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queen-ofsunflowers · 10 months

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"You're Magic Now" WIP Preview: Chapters 1 - 5

Since these are still works-in-progress, it is likely that the following excerpts will change between now and the final draft! Please keep that in mind while reading.

Chapter 1: A Fairy on Earth

(The girls follow Dain outside into the backyard, leading the troll out of the house with them. Barbara casts a spell to try and fend off the troll. Dain looks back at Lumine, the gears in his mind twisting and turning as he tries to figure out what to do next.)

Lumine: What do we do?

Dain: I’m not sure if there’s anything that you can do right now.

Barbara: Whisper of Water! (She casts the spell at the troll, only for it to backhand her across the yard.)

Lumine: Barbara! (Luckily, Barbara manages to stabilize herself mid-air.)

Barbara: I’m alright! (Dain’s right arm is trembling. He holds his wrist steady, as if holding something back. It takes Dain a second to figure out exactly what he needs to do. He rushes past the troll, dodging out of the way of its attempt to swipe at him. He grabs the hose from where it’s wound up nearby, working quickly to uncoil it. Using the hose as a makeshift rope, he throws it, the nozzle giving it enough weight to circle around the troll’s neck.)

Lumine: Awesome! (Dain grabs the hose, digging his heel into the ground.)

Dain: This isn’t over! Don’t let your guard down! (The troll thrashes against the hose. Dain grips his arm, and in the dark of the evening, Lumine can make out some strange bluish glow.) And do something! (Barbara nods. She begins to launch a steady stream of magic at the troll, but it’s not as strong as it could be. Lumine feels that electrical zing as she looks at the stars above. She draws in a breath. It’s instinct… Just instinct, simple as that. She shuts her eyes, holds out her hands and…!)

(A small flicker of a blast shoots out of her palms, almost like a burst of starlight. It hits the troll in the face, stunning it long enough for Dain to get the hose to Lumine’s and Barbara’s hands. Immediately, they struggle to keep the troll in place.)

Lumine: Dain!

Dain: I know! Just hold on! (The girls struggle.)

Lumine: DAIN! (Dain grabs the shovel that’s situated near the garden and— CLANG! He swings it as hard as possible to collide with the back of the troll’s skull. There’s a sharp crack and it drops. The girls pant heavily as the adrenaline starts to fade. The troll disappears in a shimmer of light. Dain drops to his knee, his right arm trembling.)

Chapter 2: Welcome to Magix!

Tartaglia: It’s a pity that you had to meet us like this. Who knows? Maybe we could’ve been good friends under different circumstances. (He raises the dagger, and Lumine begins to panic, trying to call upon her magic to help her to defend herself, but it’s not working.)

Lumine: Stay away! (An electrically-charged shard strikes Tartaglia’s wrist, making him drop the dagger so it dissipates. At the mouth of the alleyway are Barbara, Keqing and Ayaka — all three of them transformed into their fairy forms.)

Keqing: If you want to fight a fairy, then we’re right here!

Scaramouche: Tch…

Signora: Pathetic… Huh…? (Her eyes land on Barbara.) The lyre… (Tartaglia gets a wicked grin on his face.)

Lumine: Barbara, watch out!

Barbara: Melody Loop! (Tartaglia rushes at her, creating two new daggers. Thanks to Lumine’s warning, Barbara is able to put up a barrier in time to trap him like a rope.)

Tartaglia: Do you really think that this can hold me? (Electricity crackles over the barrier, allowing him to break it.)

Keqing: Then try this on for size. Lightning Stiletto! (She casts the same spell that disarmed Tartaglia earlier. He faces the shards head on, most of them shattering upon impact as he summons a shield of his own to protect him.)

Ayaka: Ice Flower! (A large snowflake forms underneath Tartaglia, catching him a bit off guard as a flurry of ice and snow shoots up and surrounds him, making him stumble back a little and unable to see.)

Barbara: Lumine! (She holds out her hand, and Lumine doesn’t waste another moment rushing over to them. She grabs Barbara’s hand, and Barbara pulls her close.)

Signora: Fool…

Scaramouche: Idiot.

Tartaglia: I don’t see you two doing anything! (Signora and Scaramouche exchange looks with each other before stepping forward, calling forth a spray of ice and lightning to attack the girls.)

Keqing: Get behind me! (The girls do.) Beckoning Clouds! (She summons a bunch of clouds to surround the group in a sort of barrier.)

Scaramouche: You won’t leave alive! (Lightning fiercely crackles around him in anger.)

Tartaglia: Scaramouche! Watch it!

Scaramouche: Don’t tell me to— (Barbara takes out her Lyre and starts to play a tune.)

Barbara: Hold onto me! (All the girls grab onto her. Magic swirls around them. Tartaglia grows and rushes forward, trying to grab a hold of her, but misses as the spell finally takes hold and whisks them away to safety on the outskirts of Magix. They drop, the other girls flashing out of their fairy forms in the process. It’s more because of the adrenaline rush than anything else.)

Chapter 3: The Holy Lyre

Lumine: If I scream, everyone will come running.

Scaramouche: Are you sure about that? Can’t even face me on your own? Face it, you’re alone! (Sparks and bolts of lightning come crashing down around Lumine, trying to hit her and hurt her. Panic starts to surge in her heart.) That’s what I thought. (Wind swirls around Lumine, keeping her in place. He calmly walks towards her, taking her face into his hands.) You know, I’m getting pretty tired of you messing with our plans.

Lumine: Who the heck are you…?

Scaramouche: Wouldn’t you like to know? (The spell disperses.) I don’t even need to use my full power to take you on. (He hits the ground, causing a void to open up in it. Lumine shouts as she gets caught in the vortex, spinning and feeling fear race in her heart. She grabs the edge, holding on for dear life. Scaramouche stands over her.) Pathetic… I thought I saw something in you. I was wrong. So long, fairy.

Lumine: No! (She shuts her eyes, trying to call upon every ounce of magic in her system. something zips through her veins, rushing like electricity as Scaramouche steps on her fingers, loosening their grip to allow her to get sucked in. Golden eyes widen in panic. She can’t… She can’t let him get away! She won’t… She was a fairy. She couldn’t fail! Not again… Never again! She falls into the vortex, her eyes focused on the stars and the moon above as the vortex steals away her breath. They glow so bright… shining in the sky. The flower falls from her hair and into Lumine’s vision. Her eyes widen as she takes a hold of it. A faint memory… a faint memory of a field filled with these flowers. The magic within her moves faster, making it feel like every part of Lumine like a livewire. The field of flowers, the stars and the moon… and a golden-haired boy who’s face is incomprehensible to her, but he’s holding out his hand to her and she feels happy. She reaches out in the memory, taking the boy’s hand as he pulls her along through the flowers.)

(And then… Lumine feels like something shatters within her. A sense of euphoria overcomes her, the feeling of stardust cascades over her body, and the coolness of the moonlight seeps into her skin. She can’t recall this feeling, but everything about it feels so right.)

(Lumine can feel her clothes melt away, replaced with new ones as magic spirals around her as bright as a supernova. There’s something strange and new that glitters up on her back, and in a flash, she’s shooting straight out of the vortex that she was trapped in. She blinks once… twice… and then realizes what’s going on. She’s flying. She looks down at herself, at her new outfit, her wings and even the flower that nestles itself in her hair. She smiles.)

Not so wingless anymore, am I?

Scaramouche: Are you kidding me?!

Lumine: Looks like you shouldn’t have pushed me too far.

Chapter 4: The Melmamora Swamp

Ayaka: I have a bad feeling about this… (Kazuha puts a hand over Ayaka’s mouth.)

Kazuha: (whispering) Be careful. (He gestures over to some of the bushes nearby.) Those are Cryo Whopperflowers. They disguise themselves as other plants to trick passersby and absorb their magic.

Lumine: Really?

Kazuha: (whispering) Lumine!

Lumine: What? I don’t get what the big deal is-- (She yelps as something bursts out from the ground, throwing the girls back as it goes for Lumine. She scrambles back, dodging out of the way as the creature lowers itself to the ground, spinning around to try and knock her back with its icy petals.)

Bennett: Hold on! (He tries to conjure a spell to do something, but Keqing takes his wrist.)

Keqing: We’re not supposed to use magic, remember?!

Bennett: But! (The pair duck as a few icy projectiles come their way. Oh boy. Kazuha gathers some of the water from the swamp, flinging as much mud as possible at the flower. It hits it directly in the head, and Lumine kicks it in the face. It stuns it long enough for her to run to the group, and for them to race away. They double over once they’re far enough away, trying to catch their breath.)

Kazuha: As I was saying, they react to noise. Getting too close can also set them off. So it’s best if we stick together. (Lumine sighs and nods.)

Lumine: Thanks for that. (Kazuha only nods in return. In the distance, they can hear the sounds of fighting. It seems like they’re not the only ones who ran afoul of the whopperflowers. They race ahead to find the specialists from before, not doing too well against the flowers.)

Alhaitham: Will you stop throwing yourself into battle like that? Trying to cover for you is making it difficult to think.

Childe: At least I’m doing something! (Xiao growls as he fights with a spear alone, while Alhaitham tries to cut down the flowers.)

Xiao: If you haven’t noticed, water and ice don’t mix! (Childe huffs in irritation.)

Lumine: So that’s where they went.

Chapter 5: A Blind Date

(They’re careful, hovering a bit off of the ground as they enter the building. From the shadows, they hear a slow and sinister applause.)

Strange Man: Well, well, well… you three sure took the scenic route. (He steps out of the shadows.)

Barbara?: I’ll say. You took your time. (With a flick of her wrist, the door slams shut. They’ve walked right into a trap. The illusion on them both disappears, revealing the true perpetrators -- Scaramouche and Tartaglia.)

Scaramouche: The Fatui will have the Holy Lyre, and you’re going to hand it over one way or another! (He leaps into the air, summoning a crackling ball of dark energy before blasting them with it. The girls dodge, Keqing and Lumine taking refuge behind a pillar while Ayaka ducks behind an upturned table. Scaramouche continues to blast at the pillar, chipping away at it bit by bit while Tartaglia summons two daggers to combine into a polearm. He makes his way over to Ayaka.)

Ayaka: No, you don’t… (She zips out towards Keqing and Lumine, creating a shield of ice to protect the three of them.)

Lumine: Thanks, Ayaka. (The pillar shattered, and Scaramouche cackles.)

Scaramouche: I suggest you surrender now. (Magic swirls and gathers in his palm.) Or they’ll have to drag what’s left of you from the rubble! (The girls gear up, channeling their own magic and readying to counter when--)

Signora: That’s enough. Or did you forget that if you destroy this building, you’ll bring it down right on top of us? (Tartaglia snickers as Scaramouche’s spell dwindles and vanishes. Signora steps out of the shadows, and wrapped in frozen restraints is--)

Lumine: Barbara! (Barbara groans a little at the call of her name, opening her eyes and looking towards her friends. The look of panic immediately surges when she sees them. She’s scared. To Signora:) Let her go!

Signora: Don’t worry, we will… as soon as you hand over the Holy Lyre. (The girls grow nervous.) Poor little princess… Those coils will keep squeezing her tighter and tighter until she pops. (Barbra groans in pain as Signora spins her finger in the air, tightening the coils around her.)

Tartaglia: If you want to save your friend that badly, I suggest you listen.

Signora: Time’s running out. What will it be: your friend's life or the Lyre?

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kookingtae · 7 years

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the equation of love pt. 10 (PREVIEW)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9

→scenario: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

→genre: smut | fluff | angst

→a/n: so bc ive taken over a year to update this series (which i am SO sorry about) and bc i love you guys so much… i decided to post a little preview of the finale for you all to read :”))

Running water.

It was such a simple, yet fascinating concept—atoms and molecules coming together to form the only substance on earth that has a natural state in all forms, while having the power to kill in three different ways. Solid, by hypothermia; liquid, by drowning; gas, by suffocation. This substance can take three different forms, yet it’s most commonly a liquid, covering nearly 71% of the world with translucent bodies of water. Oceans, ponds, lakes—though the most enchanting of them all were rivers. They were always moving, crashing beyond rocks and bustling with the flow of the current and gravitational pull of the earth. Rivers were passionate, and strong, and no matter how hard one tried, they couldn’t break the whipping tide that was pushing against them. Nothing could cause the powerful force to falter.

But, like most things, even rivers must come to an end. The current stops flowing, and the waves stop breaking around the jagged rocks, and the powerful force that seemed it would never end dulls to a still, calm lull, as if the river was nothing more than a brief yet raging storm. All the passion, all the fight—all over in a blink of an eye, left to dissipate into the mysteries of the vast ocean.

Staring down at the picture of Yoongi and I kissing on the cell phone screen in front of me was like getting pulled by the current of a river; down, down, down I flowed until there was no river left around me and I was left stranded in the middle of the vast open sea. Yoongi and I were once raging, and passionate, and ready to fight against anyone who tried to tear us down, but now the fight was over. We had been dragged too far, fading into a body of water that was not our own. This was bigger than us.

Yes, like the flow of a river, all things must come to an end.

“That’s it,” Yoongi gritted his teeth, and I felt the dip of the mattress beneath me as he rose to his feet in anger.

“Yoongi,” I called his name in a warning tone, warily standing up from the bed and watching him move around the room. “What are you doing?”

“I’m over it,” he said, hastily throwing the first articles of clothing he could grab from his drawers over his body. “I’m done dealing with all of this, Y/N! I’m going up to the school.”

Despite the flare of determination that sparked in my heart at his words, his rage seeming to radiate off of him and spread onto me, I couldn’t help the trepidation that I was also filled with. Yoongi didn’t have a history of making rational decisions out of anger.

“Don’t you think you should calm down first?” I offered, trying my best to match his pace around the room.

“No!” Yoongi suddenly skidded to a halt in front of me, his eyes wild and crazed. “I’m going to find her and I’m going to fucking kill her!”

I could only stand with a gaping mouth and watch as he stormed out of the room, leaving me with no choice but to pull my old clothes on and chase his stomping foot steps. He grabbed his keys before storming out of the apartment, down the stairs, and outside into the parking lot. I tried to ignore the blindingly bright sunlight as I squinted my eyes and continued after him.

“Follow me up to the school,” Yoongi barked as he hopped into his car.

“Yoongi–” I started, but my consoling voice was cut off by the slam of his door. I frowned, scrambling to unlock my vehicle as his engine roared to life.

The drive to the university was a nerve-wracking one. I kept a watchful eye on Yoongi to make sure he wasn’t speeding or swerving all over the road; they say you’re not supposed to operate a vehicle while you’re upset. Though it would seem my efforts were futile, because he did in fact speed and swerve, and all I could do was frown and try to keep up.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t angered by Professor Lee; I was furious, rage and disgust and frustration all stewing inside of me like a pot of hot water that was ready to boil over. But I just couldn’t help but worry for Yoongi. I had always been the non-confrontational type, always hoping that with a little time things would get better if they were ignored long enough. But it would seem that my method was proven inefficient today, because as much as I had tried to ignore her antics, that wicked woman wouldn’t stop at anything to make sure Yoongi and I were properly dragged through the mud and going down like a ship engulfed in flames. Yet as much as that angered me, I couldn’t bare the thought of the turmoil it was causing Yoongi. I didn’t know when I had started casting my own feelings aside and putting his above—it was a gradual thing rather than one, defining moment—but it was only another factor that proved how much I actually loved this man. And that very thought instilled a fear that shook me to the very bone.

We had a lot more to lose now than just his job and my education. We could be losing us. And that was more important now than it had ever been before.

Once we arrived at the university there were a lot of screeching brakes, messy parking and fumbling hands as I scrambled to catch up to his looming figure that seemed to stalk towards the building at an unnatural pace. The pounding of my heavy heartbeat was what drove me forward, anxiety rising with each quickened step that I took.

“Yoongi!” I yelled once I had lessened the distance between us, now dead center on the campus sidewalk. “Yoongi, wait!”

All of a sudden he whirled around, his abrupt halt causing me to crash straight into his chest. I let out a yelp in surprise, eyes wide and ready to interrogate him, before I felt the smooth curvature of his palms on either side of my face as he tilted my head up to his and slammed his mouth onto mine.

The world stopped spinning for a moment, everything around me fading into the motions of his plush skin, his soft lips exploding with flavor the way a grape would burst onto my tongue when I bit down, its juices spilling over my tastebuds and satisfying my thirst in a way that no water ever could. I didn’t even question it for a second before I was melting into him, quite literally becoming putty in his hands as the rest of the world instantaneously escaped my mind.

It’s funny the way that worked—the way he was able to completely erase everything that had once existed in the blink of an eye, just by his simple touch. Whether it was magic, or I was just that fucking whipped, I didn’t know. But either way, I didn’t possess the power to stop it even if I wanted to.

When Yoongi finally broke away, he was breathing heavily, his breath fanning across my face in cool puffs of air. “I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore,” he spoke onto my lips, his forehead pressing against mine with a firm force. “Let them see. The only thing I care about is you.”

It was then that I was suddenly aware of our surroundings, the reality of our world crashing down around me as I glanced around at all the eyes watching us. It varied; there were those choosing to spare us a glance as they walked to and from their classes, those who stalled their current actions to lift their heads to us not once, not twice, but three times, and then there were those who stopped altogether, their widened eyes and slackened jaws dead giveaways that they knew exactly who Yoongi was: Professor Min, Algebra 101 instructor.

A stroke of his thumb across my cheek brought my attention back to him; I stared up into his eyes, the desperate look in them captivating me and making it impossible to look away. His chest was rising and falling beneath his shirt, his fingers were grappling at my face as he brushed my wisps of hair out of the way, silently begging me to understand, to agree with him.

And in that moment, I knew what I had to do.

My lungs were filled with a breath of newfound determination, dazed and driven by Yoongi’s words and embrace. “I love you,” I spoke with conviction, caressing the nape of his neck as if to give him more reassurance. “Let’s go.”

With that I grabbed his hand, holding my head high for the rest of the campus to see as I started up Yoongi’s stride towards the school’s building. He was right beside me, weaving his fingers through mine and giving my hand an extra squeeze as if to say that he was here, that he was proud to let the world know that I was his and he was mine, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

We were going to take down Professor Lee.

#YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST EVER IM SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN FOREVER #AND I KNOW THIS PREVIEW IS NO WHERE NEAR GOOD ENOUGH BUT I FIGURED SOMETHING IS BETTER THAN NOTHING RIGHT???#the equation of love #preview

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neopuppy · 3 years

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Regular-Irregular: Part 1. (M)

Preview: “Is there anything you need from me? Anything I should prepare?” You asks Lucas nervously.

“Well..hah..” Lucas nods down to his crotch, pouting his lips with a smirk. “Nothing can prepare you for this, but if you can get past me.. you’ll be perfect here.” Johnny and Lucas bursts into laughter. Your brows furrowing together, but nodding with a smile none the less.

“Thank you for this opportunity alphas. I won’t let you down.”

Pairing: Female omega reader x alpha Lucas ft alpha Xiaojun

Word Count: 2.7k

Genre: omegaverse, straight up PWOP, pure FICTION.

Smut Warning: degradation, humiliation, big alpha cock, teasing, fingering, knotting, slick, voyeur, cumshot

Intro—>

Second Interview

Red. Form fitting. Tight.

“Something red will impress.” Repeating the words over in your mind admiring over the wine red silky dress. Would this be enough? This felt so wrong, opposite of your usual sense of style. Whatever style that of a broke college graduate with huge student loans could be considered.

“What if he’s not impressed?..” you continue to question pulling into your assigned visitor parking space. “What am I even supposed to do today? I really need this job..” huffing out to no one but yourself as you pull a mirror from your purse.

“You can do this. You got this. Mr. Suh loved you!” You mentally shout out words of encouragement, applying a sheer tinted balm, smacking your lips together.

“Lucas seemed nice right?” Mumbling to yourself, riddled with too many thoughts as you walk toward the elevator. “Yea, I think he liked me? He was excited about me interviewing..” nodding your chin forward, punching the button for the 10th floor. Slapping your own hand away from your mouth before you could nibble over your freshly manicured nails. The doors ding open loudly interrupting your spiraling thoughts.

“Woah..” two alpha’s stand at the floor entrance, looking you up and down. Your pace falters as you step out of the elevator. Nerves shooting about, exploding out of you like fireworks. You pause, with a small bow in their direction.

“Hello.. I’m here for an interview with the HR manager?” you stammer out, gripping at your purse.

“HR?” The shorter alpha questions, fingers stroking across his chin with a smirk. “Hah...second interview?”

“Y-yes...with Luc..”

“Lucas.” The alpha with black hair smiles, displaying bright white teeth. “Love the dress by the way..” he moves to your side, arm resting on the dip of your waist. “Allow me..” he nods, directing you forward.

You swallow following his lead, sweat pooling at your nape. The cold air conditioning blowing across your exposed skin, making it even more obvious how hot you feel. The alpha directs you toward a large room, hand palming at the small of your back.

“Love the pedicure too. Great choice.” He bites down on his lip, pushing the door open.

“Ah, Jaemin you’re back finally... and you’ve brought a gift” Johnny holds out his arms, face brightening up with a smile. “Please come in, bring her to me.”

“Of course boss.” Jaemin directs you toward Mr. Suh, pushing into your back to encourage you forward. Eyes around the conference table all follow your figure, eyes of predators. Eyes of hungry wolves.

“You’re gonna do great, I can tell.” Jaemin leans in, mouthing words directly onto your ear. He shoots you a wink, taking a seat near Lucas. The other alpha lifting his brows pleased with your appearance.

“Let me get a look at you..” Johnny pulls you forward, large hands wrapping around your waist. The heat rushing across your flesh so fast, you’d be a pool of sweat if not for the central air.

“Don’t start without me!” The other alpha from the entrance runs in, shutting the door behind him.

“We should. So you can learn to be on time Haechan.” Johnny says shooting the alpha a glare as he seats. Eyes returning to focus on you. Johnny’s fingers skim up the fabric of your dress, reaching toward the flimsy straps.

“A bra..” he tsks displeased. “Never saw the point in those things, all they do is get in the way.” Johnnys fingers trace beneath your dress, pulling off your bra straps. Hands swiftly returning to your waist, pulling your back into his built chest. He faces you toward the table, nothing but alphas surrounding. Eyes all gleaming with interest, some breathing heavy, others getting more comfortable in their seats.

“You sent the contract back very quickly. You read everything correctly yes?” Johnny tightens an arm around your stomach, hips shoving forward into your ass. He moves your hair to the side, nose running across your neck. Another alpha leans forward on the table biting on his lip. Johnny’s fingers stroking down your upper back removing the clasp from your bra.

“Y-yes..alpha..” you stammer out squeezing your eyes shut. The embarrassment too much, overwhelming your body. Muffled words of disapproval sound out around you. Johnny pulls your bra free, hardened nipples clearly exposed through your dress.

“Keep your eyes open sweetie.” His fingers skim across your jaw, tilting you neck back. “We don’t bite.”

“Yet!..” a deep raspy voice calls out. Your eyes flutter open looking into Johnny’s. The alpha smiles proudly, finger smoothing across your lower lip.

“Good omega’s always do as their told.” Johnny turns your face forward, making sure all the alpha’s see you with your eyes open.

“They follow rules.” Lucas emphasizes tapping a finger into the table. “They don’t argue. Good omega’s listen to everything their alpha’s say.”

“Isn’t he right?” Johnny licks at your earlobe, grinding his hardening length between your ass.

“Yes alpha’s..” your eyes flutter blinking away the moisture gathering up.

“Good omega’s know their place here. You’re nothing more than a stupid fuck hole to take our cum.” The alpha leaning forward closest to you voices out. The rest of the alpha’s nodding in agreement. Your thighs squeeze together, vision blurring behind the pools of tears you try to hold back.

“She likes it..” Johnny’s smile widens, nose digging into your cheek. Forearm gliding down your stomach, hand reaching under your dress. His fingers push between your thighs, squeezing around your mound.

“She’s so wet Jaehyun.” He responds to the alpha leaned on the table. Your own eyes locking with his, receiving a nod of approval.

“Of course she likes it.” Lucas stands up, pushing back his seat. Hands working on removing his belt with ease. “These omega sluts all know deep down inside the only thing they’re good for.”

“Might want to keep this one for myself Lucas” Johnny glares at him, roughly thrusting against you. Lower half bouncing forward into his hand with every movement.

“Aw come on Johnny! It’s been weeks since the last one quit. We’re fucking bored!” The alpha from earlier- Haechan, whines out smacking at his arm rest.

“You’re funny man.” Lucas head shakes, removing his blazer. Lustful eyes roaming over you, working the buttons around his wrists open.

“I’m being serious.” Johnny presses a finger into your slit, thin fabric of your underwear drenched in slick already. “I think I could conduct this portion of the interview better than you.”

“Is that right?” Lucas unzips his pants, pulling out a dick girthy and long enough to pull a shocked gasp out the back of your throat. “Should we grab a ruler?” The alpha smiles proudly with hands on his hips, cock laying against the table. Johnny sighs, pecking over your cheekbone.

“Get through this, you’ll be mine tomorrow.” He murmurs lowly into your ear. Gripping your flimsy underwear with a harsh tug up. Folds wrapping around the soaked fabric.

“Being the boss can be so exhausting.” He groans, shoving your body in Lucas direction. You fall clumsily landing into the alpha’s lap sat near Lucas. His jaw tightens, lifting a thick sharp brow.

“Xiaojun... help me out here.” Lucas snaps fingers at the alpha wrapping arms around your waist. Xiaojun gives you a look, swiping away a tear that finally breaks free.

“I love when they cry.” He grins full of mischief. Something mocking in his tone. You suck in air swallowing down a hiccup nervously. Xiaojun stands up, holding onto the back of your thighs and waist.

“Where do you want her?” He asks with a glance around the room.

“Set her down right here.” Lucas points his chin to the spot on the table in front of him. “Won’t distract you too much from your work, right boys?” The alpha taunts out with a laugh.

Pleased grunts and responses follow. Johnny focuses on setting up a power point, clapping hands together for attention from the group of alpha’s. Xiaojun lays you down in front of Lucas. The alpha grabbing onto your calves, pulling you in closer to fit between your legs.

“Red’s my favorite” Lucas smirks, long fingers gripping your knees, parting you open. “We won’t be needing these.” He bunches your dress up, ripping off the sides of your panties.

“Give me those!” The alpha that led you here- Jaemin calls out with grabby hands. Xiaojun rolls his eyes picking up the slicked up fabric.

“He’s kind of strange.” He peers down at you, shoving the underwear toward Jaemin seated to the side.

“What are we?” Lucas laughs out, hands squeezing down over the meat of your thighs. “Damn, you really are wet.” His brows waggle, fingers pulling your folds open. You squeak out in embarrassment, feeling slick slide down to your ass thick and heavy.

“You’ll never fit in there..” Xiaojun whispers staring between your legs from over Lucas shoulder. The alpha circles around your entrance curiously.

“..but she’s so wet” his forehead creases down the middle. “You taken real alpha dick before baby?” Lucas looks into your eyes with question. Your chest rises rapidly, digging nails into your hands. You lick at your drying lips, trying to regain moisture in your mouth, weakly shaking your head. Lucas sighs, prodding at your entrance.

“You can take it.. “ he pushes a finger inside you, long enough to reach deep in you. “Damn..” Lucas smile widens, pressing into your walls.

“Come here..” he mumbles, pulling you up by your shoulder with his free hand. Lucas leans in gazing at you with lazy desire filled eyes. Another finger working way in you, thick lips pouting out floating near yours.

“If you can’t take my cock, you won’t be hired.” The alpha lowly whispers against your face. Pouty lips skimming up your cheek, pulling your earlobe in. “How badly do you want this job?” Words muffle into your ear between sucking and licking. Lucas pushes a third finger inside you. They’re so long and thick already, the size of his cock can’t even compare.

“Yes alpha..” your face scrunches up in pleasure, fingers working you open. “I want it. I need it.” The high paying position, the alpha’s incredibly fat cock, whichever.

Xiaojun’s hand reaches between your bodies, fingers finding your clit quickly. The alphas work expertly, Lucas thrusting lengthy fingers into you, spreading open and stretching. Xiaojun circles around you clit, squeezing the bud between two fingers. Your head falling forward into the alpha’s chest too overwhelmed and shy to voice out anything.

“You have to take my knot too..” Lucas bites your earlobe, tongue lapping over the abused skin. Your eyes widen, neck weakly lifting. His smile turns vindictive, forehead pressing into yours. “Most omega’s can’t pass this interview.”

“I will.” You purse your lips swallowing down a whine, a fourth finger pushing your walls open. “Fuck..” your head drops forward into his chest again, biting back a moan. Pleasure passing through your stomach with each thrust.

“That’s right..” his fingers slip out, shoving away Xiaojun’s hand. Lucas lifts you off the table, returning to his chair. He turns you around like you weigh nothing to him, biceps flexing through his dress shirt. Lucas sets you on his lap, hard very hard cock nestling between your thighs. An alpha with a hidden forearm below the waist is what he was.

“You ready?” Lucas turns you to look at him, large hand covering the entire side of your face. You hesitate squirming about his lap before stiffly nodding. He holds back a smile digging teeth into his lower lip. Xiaojun swivels his seat closer to Lucas, gripping at the top of your dress. He gives you no time to react, pulling the garment below your breasts. Cold air kissing at your erected nipples. Groans sounding out from the alpha’s less focused on Johnny’s presentation.

Lucas gathers your dress up to your waist, lifting you up enough to prod at your entrance. Cock head sloppily sliding and poking between your heat.

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” He grunts out behind you, keeping you held up. You drop your head for a better look, reaching down gripping around the base of his length. Finger nails barely meeting around him. You swallow in trying to relax with determination. If there’s one thing you had, it was the will to fight for what you want.

Lucas lifts his hips impatiently, cock head pushing past your opened entrance. You squeeze at his base tighter, panting out for air. Slowly inching down the fat length, teeth grinding together in exertion. Head falling back against his shoulder releasing your hold around him. Xiaojun leans in lapping over your nipple, earning a jolt of surprise out of you.

“Fuck.. I’m already half in” Lucas drops back against the chairs head rest. Jaw hanging loosely soaking in your clenching walls. Xiaojun’s fingers return to your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves with quick rubs. You finally cry out, trying so hard to not break. Trying so hard to not appear weak. Lucas let’s out a cocky laugh, thrusting up into you completely. Slick coating around his size with Xiaojun’s help. They play you like a toy, like the helpless little omega you are.

“How’s that feel?” Lucas wraps a hand around your entire neck, pulling you flush against him. He grinds up into you, cock fucking deep past what you even thought possible. Your eyes roll back letting out a deep cry, a pathetic wanton mewl. “Come on, I said fuck yourself on my cock.”

Your eyes squeeze, tears pooling out over your cheeks. Head nodding rapidly- good omega’s always do as their told. You reach a hand out gripping the ledge of the table pulling yourself up. Cunt so stretched and full, slick covering the entirety of Lucas slacks. You fall back down on the size ripping you open, eyes locking with an alpha across from you. His mouth hung open, tongue out like a dog. It’s filthy, a group of attractive alpha’s treating you like nothing but a hole. It’s hot, it’s beyond your wildest fantasies.

“Ugh..” you grit out, working into a speed. Ass slapping back against Lucas. The wet fabric of his shirt uncomfortable against your skin. He lifts his arms behind his head, watching you put on a show.

“Fuck, good omega. Taking all that dick.” The alpha inside of you moans out. You ride him faster, grind against him, balls squishing into your ass. Lucas moves his hands around your neck from behind. He grinds up as you circle around him. Xiaojun bites over your breasts, rolling a nipple bud between his teeth.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum. Pussy’s too good.” Lucas hisses out, he sinks into the seat, thrusting forward roughly. Strong, fast, relentless chasing the urge to knot. You gasp in harshly, fingers gripping at the table. Getting fucked into so good, sensors overloading in lust. Your mouth falls open, walls clamping as much as possible around the alpha. Crying out as slick pours around his size.

“A-alpha!” Your stomach sucks in deep. Lucas jerks in past your orgasm. His face glistening under the lights with sweat. He thrusts in deep one, two, three more times with force. Knot expanding into you, hands around your neck the only thing keeping you in place.

“Fuck! Fuck!!” He cries out raspy, deep and manly. Loads of cum shooting into your womb aggressively. A mixture of many different groans passing through your ears. Lucas sighs, releasing your neck. Body weakly flopping back against him.

“Get her on the table. I’m about to cum.” Xiaojun pants out from beside you. Lucas grunts, standing up with you hanging off his knot. He lifts you with hands under your knees settling you down on all fours. You squirm around, heated cheek pressing into the cool metal. Lucas pulls out, knot only barely starting to go down. Cum spilling free out of your gaped hole immediately.

“Fuck fuck that’s hot.” Xiaojun screams out from behind. Sounds of jerking, slapping his cock over your ass. “Oh shit!” He cums with a shout, shooting in between your ass. You whimper, vision blurred under moisture. Room spinning with alpha’s in suits gazing at you like you’re their next meal. Which you just may be.

“You two done yet?” Johnny questions Lucas and Xiaojun. Lucas shoots him a wide smirk, tucking himself back into his pants.

“She’s hired.” He finishes with a thumbs up before stepping out of the room. Xiaojun’s eyes stay focused on your ass. Pushing and squeezing together your cheeks watching large amounts of cum drip down to the table.

“I’ll get her account connected for direct deposit right now.” You hear Xiaojun’s voice from behind you. He slaps at your ass one final time, nodding Johnny’s way.

The rest of the alpha’s make to head out with Johnny ending the meeting. All slowly walking around the table to get a look at the mess you’ve made. The mess you’ve become.

“You’re going to be a great addition to the team.” Jaemin expresses with a loud lip smack against your ass cheek. “Can’t wait to have fun with you.”

Part 2–>

Tag:

@seuomo @unknown5tar @nanascupid @doieclayed @johnjaespeach @eggbutnotyolk @skittlez-area512 @jaehyunluvcult @lauraneuuh @hyucksslut @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @sweetmoonlight9 @multifandombtvh @notsooperfect @lenaluvs @hyunsannie @reinventingpersona @kawaiiayasan @resceluwu @winwiniee @hemlockbeauty @jaeminielovebot @aaaaalex05 @sheytanni

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lutawolf · 2 years

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pretty sure kinn will be recovering for at least half the episode if not all (maybe even unconscious??) and judging from the preview, vegas is “trying” to help the main family figure out who might be behind the kidnapping. so that’s how vegas gets porsche, pete and arm? into minor’s family house. also i don’t completely think korn will send porsche to work with vegas, but i do think porsche will ask to go himself because he feels guilty for kinn getting shot and wants to find the people who did it.

i think kinn might wake up and start asking where porsche is only to be told that he’s with vegas and he COMPLETELY misunderstands the situation. he goes all crazy and goes to get porsche back and we get the bathroom scene and “you never trust me!” it doesn’t make any sense to me to get the bathroom scene any time later because we know we’re getting the pool scene in ep 8-9 by which point kinnporsche know they love each other. also they need to start vegaspete’s arc and for that to happen they need to finish the whole vegasporsche mess.

their previous always make me anxious cause they don’t show anything 😭😭 but it’s fun to theorize with everybody else

I'm pretty sure Kinn will be hospitalized as well. I'm not sure about the unconscious part because that would be a stretch for a shoulder shot but who knows. I have high doubts though that Kinn is aware of this plan at all. There is no way he would let V near Porsche with a ten-foot pole. Really any pole at all, especially not a pole. 🤣🤣🤣

I really don't think that Porsche would ask to go work with V unless somehow V talks him into it. Porsche is fully aware that Kinn doesn't want him near V. Yes, he broke that rule when they rode on the bike but honestly that was Porsche getting some of his back. Now though, he is going to care what Kinn thinks. If you watch Porsche, when him and Kinn are good, he wants to please Kinn. Also, he doesn't completely trust V. You can see it in the way he looks at V and walks around him. Something bothers his instincts, but he has nothing to go on yet.

No, I think either Porsche is sent by Korn to maybe remove him from Kinn's side. Cause maybe he isn't leaving Kinn's side at the hospital? Otherwise, V used his charisma to somehow talk Porsche into it. Maybe suggesting that people would be less familiar with him?

Whether Kinn wakes up or just notices that Porsche isn't there. I'm sure his ass gets lit by a fire when he realizes Porsche is involved in any way with V. I agree that this is also likely where we get the bathroom scene, which I'm dying for. I'm dying for this scene you guys. Kinn's hair isn't wet then it's wet which means a slap and a scuffle and yeahhhhhhh.

In my opinion I think both are completely aware of their own feelings. I think Porsche is still confused about his feelings with Kinn because he doesn't feel like his feet are on solid ground. He is in love with one portion of Kinn but not sure about the rest of him. He would give up a hand for Kinn, run back into danger for Kinn, and honestly, he is walking away from everything for Kinn. Yet, I also think he is one of those people that feels love doesn't solve everything. It doesn't necessarily conquer all. Thank hard knocks life for that.

Kinn especially knows his feelings. Has in fact, likely known his feelings, ever since Pete told him Porsche was heartbroken. Ever since he completely disregarded his father and ran to get his man. He locked his man to him, so that they could fix things. Then he let him go because you can't lock up the person you love. We could literally hear his love and pain in all the noises he made as Porsche left him. In his kick of those cuffs. Kinn loves Porsche so much that he wants to breath him in. That he is willing to put his life before Porsche. Always before he moved Porsche out of the way of bullets. This time he became the barricade and not because he couldn't move him in time but because he knew moving him wouldn't be enough, he would still be in danger. He needed to be in front of him so that he could be the bigger target even after the first hit.

The issue lies in that neither really knows how the other feels. Kinn works off of action not words. So, all he knows is that Porsche actually left. Yes, Porsche came back but Kinn knows that is in fact Porsche, just like him giving up a hand. He is willing to put Porsche before everything else but is Porsche willing to do the same? Add in the fact that Kinn has deep set trust issues because he has been emotionally betrayed before and you got one confused mafia prince. Porsche on the other hand needs words and acts of kindness. Kinn has figured out that Porsche needs and wants to be taken care of but he isn't so good at words. Yet Porsche isn't going to believe that Kinn really cares until Kinn uses his words.

I don't think they will figure that all out by the pool scene. I do think it will be a honeymoon stage though. Woot!

I'm actually excited about VP. I think it should be really interesting. I don't think it will be as traumatic as the books, but I hope everyone is ready for even more dubcon.

And this totally went off the rails, but you got me thinking so much. Thank you for that! I had a blast tossing ideas around. 💜💜💜 Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I did.

#kinnporsche the series #streaming kinnporsche #streaming kinnporsche on iqiyi #kinnporche the series #kinnporsche question and answer #kinnporsche thoughts #kinnporsche luta #kinnporsche luta question and answer #luta question and answer #luta opinions

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miserablesme · 3 years

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The Les Miserables Changelog Part 3: 1987 Broadway Production

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. This time, we're going through all the changes between the musical as it existed on the West End around 1985-1986 and the revised libretto for the 1987 Broadway production.

In some ways, this is a much easier changelog to compile than the last two simply because it is much easier to find audio evidence of the show from this era than from its pre-1987 self. We have a full soundboard of the original Broadway cast as well as a very good quality bootleg of the very first Broadway preview, as well as several audios from the next few years which use exactly the same script. We also have an officially released Symphonic Soundtrack which almost (but not quite) follows this version of the libretto exactly. So no more relying on unclear bootlegs and speculation to figure out what was changed when!

Having said that, the changes in this production were MASSIVE. It's almost certainly the most extensive edit the show's libretto has received to this day. As such, this will be a very long edition of this blog. So make sure you have a bit of time on your hands before reading it! With all that cleared up, let's begin.

The first change literally can be heard as soon as the musical begins. The pre-Broadway show opens up with the same recurring motif also heard, for instance, at the openings of "At the End of the Day" and "One Day More". This music then transitioned to the instrumentals to the opening "Work Song". The post-Broadway libretto cuts right to the chase, with the opening instrumentals to the "Work Song" starting right up without any preamble.

One interesting little non-scripted change occurs later in the "Work Song", but only in American productions. For whatever reason, every American Javert from the original Broadway cast until the first Broadway revival sang "And I am Javert" instead of "And I'm Javert", for reasons that honestly baffle me. Again, the libretto retained the original contraption as far as I'm aware, and the West End production as well as later UK and Australian tours still used it as well.

The next change happens while Valjean is on parole. After Valjean pleads against the farmer underpaying him, this was the farmer's original response:

Do you believe

A yellow ticket of leave

Allows a criminal like you to earn full screw?

Since Broadway, his response is instead as follows:

You broke the law

It's there for people to see

Why should you get the same as honest men like me?

I much prefer this revised version. Though the information is essentially the same, it feels more dramatic, as well as feeling less awkward now that it is in the form of separate sentences as opposed to a single sentence spoken in three lines with pauses in between. Moreover, the phrase "honest men like me" as used here provides interesting foreshadowing for its more well-known usage in "Master of the House". One could spend quite some time analysing the implications of this recurring description, but this blog is long enough as it is so now isn't the time!

In the same number, originally the innkeeper's wife had the following remark:

My rooms are full

And I've no supper to spare

I'd like to help you really, all I want is to be fair

Since Broadway, her line has been slightly modified:

My rooms are full

And I've no supper to spare

I'd like to help a stranger, all we want is to be fair

I suppose "I'd like to help a stranger" sounds less slang-y than "help you really". Presumably this is why it was changed. I find the change of subject from singular to plural far more interesting. My hypothesis is that the writers wanted to make it clear than this is a communal grudge, not a personal one. Everyone around sees it as perfectly fair to deny shelter to a former convict, not just this one individual. I definitely prefer the revised line, but evidently the producers of the West End production didn't; that production held on to the original lyrics for more than a decade after they were originally revised! More on that in a later edition of this blog...

A more minor change can be heard during "At the End of the Day". Originally, Valjean asks the factor workers "What is this shouting all about?" The Broadway script changes this to "What is this fighting all about?" Much less trivial implications now. I'm curious as to whether or not a staging change may have accompanied this. Usually the two workers get into quite a bit of physical scuffle by this point, far beyond the realm of shouting. Did the original pre-Broadway production use more subdued choreography?

"The Runaway Cart" has some noticeable differences. After Valjean asks the townspeople for help, the original response was sung by the entire ensemble, and went as follows:

(SOLO)

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

There's nothing at all you can do

(ENSEMBLE)

The old man is a goner for sure

Leave him alone

The Broadway libretto revised this into a sequence sung by one individual at a time with the following lyrics:

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

The load is as heavy as hell

The old man is a goner for sure

It will kill you as well

A female ensemble member sung "The old man is a goner for sure" while a male member sung the rest. I sort of like it better as an ensemble piece (something that would be largely brought back in later years, as I'll soon discuss) although I think it's cool that it rhymes now. Having said that, I'm fairly confident that no one in the real world has ever actually used the phrase "Heavy as hell"!

An official change in the libretto occurred in "Who Am I?" but listeners to the original Broadway cast would not have heard it. While the pre-Broadway show had Valjean refer to "This innocent who bears my face", the revised libretto instead refers to "This innocent who wears my face". Perhaps a means of avoiding repetition, given that the word "bear" is used again later in the number? Regardless, Colm Wilkinson didn't actually bother to adapt to this change! He still sings "This innocent who bears my face" in the Broadway production (as well as the tenth anniversary concert; not until his 1998 stint in Toronto did he ever start singing the revised lyrics). Since every future Valjean (except Ivan Rutherford for some reason) sings "wears", I still see it as appropriate to mention here.

At the end of the song, Valjean's "You know where to find me!", used on and off in the Barbican previews before becoming a settled part of the production by the final pre-Broadway libretto, is once again removed for the Broadway show. However, the West End production would keep it for a few years - more on that later...

Just listening to the original Broadway cast, one might think Javert's "Dare you talk to me of crime?" becomes "Dare you speak to me of crime?" However, this seems to be a Terrence Mann-exclusive change. Every Javert after him reverts to the original lyrics (as did Terrence himself when he returned to the musical fifteen years later). I'm still making note of the change here for the sake of clarification.

An instrumental change occurs between "Castle on a Cloud" and "Master of the House". Mme. Thenardier's "You heard me ask for something and I never ask twice" was original followed by three bars of notes, then by six more bars of notes that are identical to each other. After the Broadway production, however, those six bars of notes grow increasingly more dramatic as they go on.

A very slight change happens during the preamble to "Master of the House". Originally one of the guests proclaims "Hell, what a wine" while the revised libretto instead has him claim "God, what a wine". Definitely more natural in my opinion, though not a huge difference by any means.

A few subtle differences exist in the "Waltz of Treachery" number. First off, Thenardier originally asks "Have we done for your child what is best?" The Broadway libretto changes "your child" to "her child". I personally like the original lyric better, as it goes back to the idea established earlier that Valjean is metaphorically bargaining through the spirit of Fantine. It's definitely not a difference that makes or breaks the number, though.

Towards the end of the song comes another change that cannot actually be heard by listening to the original Broadway cast. In the pre-Broadway show, Valjean used the line "Let us seek out a friendlier sky", while the revised libretto has him say "Let us seek out some friendlier sky". However, Colm Wilkinson once again doesn't bother to adapt to the change, and unlike the "Who Am I?" change he wouldn't learn it over time either. He continues to sing "a friendlier sky" throughout his on-and-off performances as Valjean, right up to and including his 2002 run in Shanghai!

After the bulk of the number comes a more significant change. Prior to the Broadway production, as was discussed in the last entry, the "Waltz of Treachery" was followed by about forty-five seconds of vamping and then this exchange in the tune of "Castle on a Cloud":

(LITTLE COSETTE)

We're going home right now, monsieur

What is your name

(VALJEAN)

Now my dear

I've names enough, I've got names to spare

But where I go, you always will be there

Nor will you be afraid again

There is a sun that's shining yet

(LITTLE COSETTE)

I'm going to call you my Papa

(VALJEAN)

I'm going to call you my Cosette

The Broadway libretto replaced it with just under twenty seconds of vamping, followed by a sequence in the tune of the "Waltz of Treachery":

(VALJEAN)

Come Cosette

Come my dear

From now on I will always be here

Where I go

You will be

(LITTLE COSETTE)

Will there be children

And castles to see?

(VALJEAN)

Yes, Cosette

Yes it's true

There's a castle just waiting for you

This is followed by another fifteen or so seconds of vamping, and then the humming duet between Cosette and Valjean carries on as before.

Arguably the biggest change in the entire edited libretto happens now. Whereas the number was originally directly followed by "Stars", things have been moved around so that it instead transitions directly into "Look Down". "Look Down" itself receives a lot of adjustments. First off, the number began in the pre-Broadway musical with a bar of music that was then repeated. The Broadway version only plays the bar of music once, and the sung part happens immediately afterwards.

Gavroche's verse receives some lyrical updates. Originally it used the following lines:

This is my school, my high society

From St. Denis to St Michel

We live on crumbs of humble piety

Tough on the teeth, but what the hell?

If you're poor, if you're free

Follow me, follow me!

The Broadway production rewrote that sequence a little:

This is my school, my high society

Here in the slums of St Michel

We live on crumbs of humble piety

Tough on the teeth, but what the hell?

Think you're poor? Think you're free?

Follow me, follow me!

Better lines in my humble opinion; "slums" conveys the poverty of Gavroche's community much more effectively than the original line, and phrasing the "poor" and "free" lines as questions is more dramatic than their original statement form.

The old beggar woman's original "You give 'em all the pox" becomes the less grammatically accurate "Give 'em all the pox" for Broadway, though I have no idea if the original "You" was part of the libretto or simply an improvisation. Since seemingly all actresses used that line for the first few years of the West End production, it strikes me as warranting a mention.

Right after this comes another change. In the pre-Broadway show, the argument between the beggar woman and the prostitute was followed by an exchange by a few individual beggars. All of the following lines were said by one person at a time, the first three being said by female beggars and the last one by a male beggar:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen, dearie

Something's gotta give

The Broadway libretto changes this to an ensemble piece performed by all the beggars simultaneously:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen now or

Something's gotta give

I really like the switch to a group effort, as it really emphasizes that the beggars are a community sharing the burden of poverty. It really feels like an epidemic to an extent that it doesn't when it's just a small conversation. Evidently the producers of the West End show didn't agree with me though, as they held onto the original sequence for more than a decade after the official change, and by that point it had already been largely reverted worldwide! More on that in a later blog...

Originally, the exposition about General Lamarque was given by a few random students (supposedly not specified in the libretto, but in practice portrayed as Combeferre and Feuilly). Some ensemble dialogue between beggars was put in between. Feuilly sings over the end of the ensemble's lines - but many have speculated that this was not intended by the writers, as the background music sounds super out of sync with his singing! Here's how the scene went:

(COMBEFERRE)

As for the leaders of the land

As for the swells who run this show

Only one man and that's Lamarque

Speaks for the people here below

(BEGGARS)

Something for a meal

Something for a doss

Something in the name of Him who died upon the cross

On the cross, come across

On the cross, come across, come across

(FEUILLY)

Lamarque is ill and fading fast

Won't last the week out, so they say

With all the anger in the land

How long before the judgement day?

Before we cut the fat ones down to size?

Before the barricades arise?

Fortunately, the writers of the Broadway libretto had the sense to change the purveyors of the message into people actually relevant to the show's plot, namely Marius and Enjolras. Moreover, the beggars' dialog was rewritten into a sequence that feels far less clunky to me. The background music was fixed to account for the solo singing (now done by Marius) overlapping the beggars' lines, so it is now perfectly in sync. Here's the edited exchange:

(ENJOLRAS)

Where are the leaders of the land?

Where are the swells who run this show?

(MARIUS)

Only one man and that's Lamarque

Speaks for the people here below

(BEGGARS)

See our children fed

Help us in our shame

Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name

(SOLO BEGGAR)

In the Lord's holy name

(BEGGARS)

In His name, in His name, in His name

(MARIUS)

Lamarque is ill and fading fast

Won't last the week out, so they say

(ENJOLRAS)

With all the anger in the land

How long before the judgement day?

Before we cut the fat ones down to size?

Before the barricades arise?

Much better in my opinion! It should be noted that David Bryant instead sings "these people here below", but as far as I can tell every future Marius (or later Enjolras - more on that later) sings "the people, which is the actually phrasing in the libretto.

One final change in Look Down: Gavroche now says that all of Thenardier's family is "on the make", as opposed to the original "on the take". A rather pointless change in my book, though it certainly doesn't hurt anything.

"The Robbery" is another heavily edited number. Thenardier's line after acknowledging Brujon, Babet, and Claquesous was originally as follows:

You Montparnasse, watch for the p'lice

With Eponine, take care

You've got all the hash, I've got all the cash

The Broadway show rewrote those lines into their still-current form:

You Montparnasse, watch for the law

With Eponine, take care

You turn on the tears, no mistakes my dears!

This changed lyric more naturally transitions the scene into the gang's actual plan, though the original is an interesting continuation of Gavroche's recollection of Thenardier once running a hash house.

Mme. Thenardier's response is also altered from the original lyrics:

Here come a student from our street

One of 'Ponine's peculiar gents

Our Eponine would kiss his feet

She never showed a bit of sense

Into the current ones:

These bloody students on our street

Here they come slumming once again

Our Eponine would kiss their feet

She never showed a scrap of brain

It's interesting how the edit shifts the focus from Marius in particular to the students in general. It seems that Mme. Thenardier is less aware of the specifics of her daughter's personal life now, something that makes sense for her character.

After Mme. Thenardier's "You'll be in the clear", there was originally just eighteen seconds of a musical motif (the same one which opens "At the End of the Day" and "One Day More") followed by Thenardier's speech. Since Broadway, it's instead been followed by a few more lines of dialogue:

(MARIUS)

Who is that man

(EPONINE)

Leave me alone!

(MARIUS)

Why is here?

Hey Eponine!

Only now does the musical motif play. But instead of staying silent upon seeing Cosette, Marius now sings "I didn't see you there, forgive me..." Interestingly, in this video of a 1987 performance of the original West End production, Marius just stops without bumping into Cosette as he usually does. This makes me wonder whether or not the bumping was added into the Broadway version, and the lyric was added to accomodate for the blocking change. Of course, this is all speculation; I have no way to know for sure.

Thenardier's con job is also quite a bit different post-Broadway. Originally it used the following lyrics:

How you do? Spare a sou

God will see all the good that you do

Look monsieur, lost a leg

Hero of Waterloo now has to beg

Wait a bit, know that face...

The Broadway libretto edited it into its current form:

Please monsieur, come this way

Here's a child that ain't eaten today

Save a life, spare a sou

God rewards all the good that you do

Wait a bit, know that face...

It's interesting how Thenardier's facade shifts in focus from his own supposed hardship to that of an alleged child. I suppose the latter would be a good bit more effective in convincing passersby to donate!

During "Javert's Intervention", Thenardier now says "It was me that told you so, as opposed to the original "Wot told you so"; however, this seems to be a regional choice to account for a lack of Cockney accent, not an official libretto change. British productions retain the original "Wot".

“The Robbery” ends quite differently. Its pre-Broadway form had Gavroche’s remarks directly follow Javert’s “Clear this garbage off the street!” However, now Javert’s line is instead followed by some instrumentals to a slower version of the same tune as, for instance, “Honest work/Just reward/That’s the way to please the lord” and “He will bend/He will break/This time there is no mistake”.

After these instrumentals come the “Stars” number, now in a much more natural location given that Javert now has a logical reason to be thinking about Valjean!

The number itself is mostly the same, up until the final segment. After Javert’s “Those who falter and those who fall must pay the price”, he originally had the following lyrics:

Scarce to be counted

Changing the chaos

To order and light

You are the sentinels

Silent and sure

Keeping watch in the night

The post-Broadway show replaced this with a much more climactic remark:

Lord let me find him

That I may see him

Safe behind bars

I will never rest ‘til then

This I swear

This is swear by the stars

WOW, what an improvement! Now the stars are tied much better to Valjean himself, and Javert’s motivation is much clearer!

Now that “Stars” is over, we finally get Gavroche's remarks. The lyrics are the same; however, instead of the tempo progressively getting faster as it goes along, it now gets progressively slower. Interestingly the audio of the first preview has Gavroche saying "mother dear" instead of "auntie dear", but it's back to the original line by the second known original Broadway cast audio. Both audio feature Braden Danner; whether the "mother dear" was a choice on his part or a director's, a flub, or a libretto change that was later reverted is unknown.

"Eponine's Errand" has some significant changes. First off, the original libretto gave Marius and Eponine this exchange:

(MARIUS)

Did you see that lovely girl

(EPONINE)

A lovely two-a-penny thing

The Broadway libretto edited it a little:

(MARIUS)

Eponine, who was that girl?

(EPONINE)

Some bourgeois two-a-penny thing

Marius' request has also been changed from its original lyrics:

Eponine, do this for me

But careful how you go

Your father mustn't know

He'll strike another blow

'Ponine, I'm lost until she's found

Into some far clearer and more direct instructions:

Eponine, do this for me

Discover where she lives

But careful how you go

Don't let your father know

'Ponine, I'm lost until she's found

And yes, the line was "your father" right from day one. Michael Ball flubs it as "her father" on the complete symphonic recording, leading many to assume that was the original lyric which was changed later. But I'm not aware of a single live performance to use that lyric (which doesn't make a lot of sense anyway).

Another side note: Some Marius actors have very slightly changed the third line to "Be careful how you go" or "But careful as you go", though neither lyric is the standard.

Post-Broadway, as the instrumentals to "Red and Black" play, a student (I'm not sure which one) now shouts Enjolras' name before the singing begins.

During "Red and Black", Michael Maguire changes the original "It is easy to sit here and swat 'em like flies" to "Oh, it's easy to sit here and swat 'em like flies". However, this is an individual choice of the actor, not an official libretto change. Every future Enjolras I'm aware of (except Ramin Karimloo for some reason) uses the original line.

An actual libretto change occurs soon afterwards. After Marius' entrance, Grantaire originally asks, "Marius, what's wrong with you today?" The post-Broadway show changes this to "Marius, you're late. What's wrong today?" This makes it much clearer why Grantaire might suspect something is wrong.

Soon afterwards, Grantaire's original line "We talk of battles to be won, and here he comes like Don Juan" is slightly tweaked to "You talk of battles to be won". This is a little more appropriate, since Grantaire isn't actually doing a lot of talking!

After "Red and Black", Gavroche's part is very slightly changed. First off, American performances for a few years would have Gavroche whistle right before everyone quiets down, though I have no idea if this was in the libretto or not.

Secondly, Gavroche's original remark, "It's General Lamarque! He's dead!" is shortened to just "General Lamarque is dead!"

In another contender for the biggest change in the entire edit, the entire "I Saw Him Once" number is totally removed. I have mixed feelings about this. It does give Cosette, a frustratingly underwritten character, some additional content. However, stylistically it's not all that much like any other number in the musical, and it doesn't really add enough information to the show to warrant a whole song. So I say with regret that it was probably for the best to delete the number.

To compensate for the lost number, "In My Life" is lengthened to include the establishing character moments that "I Saw Him Once" originally did. Originally it opened as follows:

(COSETTE)

Dearest papa, can I tell him of this?

How can I tell him the things that I feel?

How could he understand?

(VALJEAN)

Dear Cosette, you're such a lonely child...

The post-Broadway opener is instead as follows:

(COSETTE)

How strange, this feeling that my life's begun at last

This change, can people really fall in love so fast?

What's the matter with you Cosette?

Have you been to much on your own?

So many things unclear

So many things unknown

In my life

There are so many questions and answers

That somehow seem wrong

In my life

There are times when I catch in the silence

The sigh of a faraway song

And it sings of a world that I long to see

Out of reach, just a whisper away, waiting for me

Does he know I'm alive? Do I know if he's real?

Does he see what I see? Does he feel what I feel?

In my life

I'm no longer alone

Now the love in my life is so near

Find me now, find me here

(VALJEAN)

Dear Cosette, you're such a lonely child...

After Valjean gives Cosette his cryptic defense of his secrecy, Cosette had a remark that is sadly incredibly hard to understand in the quality of the recordings we have. It apparently went something like this:

There are voices I hear

That come into my mind

Full of noise, full of fear

When the noise was unkind

In my life

I'm no longer afraid

And I yearn for the truth that you know

Of the years, years ago

Her post-Broadway response is much shorter:

In my life

I'm no longer a child

And I yearn for the truth that you know

Of the years, years ago

Shorter, but just as effective in my book. Plus, the use of the word "child" nicely ties into Valjean's initial remark that Cosette is "such a lonely child", as well as Cosette's frustration that he still sees her as "a child who is lost in the woods".

The next number, "A Heart Full of Love", also has a LOT of rewritten lyrics. First of all, after Marius' "I do not even know your name", these are his original lyrics:

Dear mademoiselle

I am lost in your spell

The Broadway production changed the lyrics into:

Dear mademoiselle

Won't you say? Will you tell?

I suppose this fits a little better with his remark about not knowing Cosette's name.

After Marius and Cosette finally learn each other's names (an important step in a relationship if you ask me!) this was their original way of showing their affection:

(MARIUS)

Cosette, your name is like a song

(COSETTE)

My song is you

(MARIUS)

Is it true?

(COSETTE)

Yes, it's true

The Broadway production rewrote it into the following:

(MARIUS)

Cosette, I don't know what to say

(COSETTE)

Then make no sound

(MARIUS)

I am lost

(COSETTE)

I am found

In my opinion, the rewrite captures the slight awkwardness of young love much better, as well as making a lot more sense!

Immediately afterwards, this is the original exchange:

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

A heart full of love

A heart full of you

(MARIUS)

The words are foolish but they're true

Cosette, Cosette

What were we dreaming when we met?

(COSETTE)

I can sing

(MARIUS)

Dear Cosette

(COSETTE)

A heart full of love...

The Broadway libretto redoes the scene as the following:

(MARIUS)

A heart full of love

(COSETTE)

A night bright as day

(MARIUS)

And you must never go away

Cosette, Cosette

(COSETTE)

This is a chain we'll never break

(MARIUS)

Do I dream?

(COSETTE)

I'm awake

(MARIUS)

A heart full of love...

Almost a totally different scene! The post-Broadway variant is better structured, but I do like the original too.

As the trio of Marius, Cosette, and Eponine exchanges inner monologues, Marius originally has the line "I saw her waiting and I knew". The Broadway libretto changed this to "A single look and then I knew". I kind of prefer the original, as it implies a little more than something as trivial as a cursory glance.

In the closing lyrical overlap of the song, Cosette originally sings "Waiting for you", but post-Broadway she sings "I knew it too". Then, she originally sings "At your call" but post-Broadway she sings "Every day".

During the opening to "The Attack on Rue Plumet", Montparnasse refers to Valjean as "the one that got away the other day" as opposed to his original "the bloke wot got away the other day". However, this is another regional change made for the sake of making sense outside of a cockney accent. The official libretto still had the original lyrics.

A tiny change occurs during Thenardier and Eponine's fight. Claquesous originally thinks it's a palaver and an absolute treat "to watch a cat and its father" picking a bone in the street. The Broadway libretto changed this to "see a cat and a father". Why exactly the writers felt the need to make such a miniscule edit is mystifying to me, but it certainly doesn't hurt anything.

Another change occurs later in the number, after Eponine's scream. Originally this was Thenardier's reaction:

Make for the sewers, don't wait around

Leave her to me, go underground

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

These lines were mixed up a bit for the Broadway libretto:

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

Leave her to me, don't wait around

Make for the sewers, go underground

The post-Broadway variation arguably is a bit less climactic due to it not ending on a threat. However, the original climax isn't all that appropriate since Eponine and Thenardier never actually interact at any later point in the musical. I like that the post-Broadway version ends on something that's actually relevant to the remainder of the show (namely, that Thenardier will be in the sewers). Evidently the West End producers didn't agree with me; this is another line in which the original was kept there for more than a decade (at which point a rewrite closer to the original was already being used worldwide)!

In "One Day More", Javert's "One day more to revolution" is slightly changed to "One more day to revolution". However, the number is otherwise unchanged.

And that's it for Act One! The opening barricade scene to act two has a small change. Grantaire's pre-Broadway "Some will bark, some will bite" was changed to "Dogs will bark, fleas will bite". Makes a lot more sense in my opinion!

The opening to "On My Own" is changed as well. Originally it was performed as follows:

And now I'm all alone again

Nowhere to go, no one to turn to

I did not want your money sir

I came out here 'cause I was told to

The Broadway version rewrote it into the following:

And now I'm alone again

Nowhere to turn, no one to go to

Without a home, without a friend

Without a face to say hello to

A huge improvement in my book. It actually rhymes now, and is far less likely to be misconstrued as ungrateful.

After receiving a massive overhaul not that long before, "Little People" was slightly tweaked for the Broadway show. The pre-Broadway version had this ending:

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

You’d better run for cover when the pup grows up!

Another line (taken from the original longer version of "Little People" as well as all versions of its reprise) was added for the post-Broadway show:

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

We'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up

So you’d better run for cover when the pup grows up!

Grantaire's line afterwards is literally reversed in meaning from the original "Better far to die a schoolboy than a policeman and a spy!" into "What's the difference? Die a schoolboy, die a policeman, die a spy!" This post-Broadway lyric fits better into Grantaire's cynical personality.

A very subtle edit is made in "Little Fall of Rain" (to the point that I only just realized its existence by reading an old internet forum!) Pre-Broadway, Marius asks Eponine "Did you see my beloved?" The tense is changed from past to present perfect for the Broadway libretto, so that he now sings "Have you seen my beloved?"

"Drink with Me" receives quite a bit of editing. The opening few lines are originally all sung by Grantaire:

Drink with me to days gone by

Sing with me the songs we knew

Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads

Here's to witty girls who went to our beds

Here's to them and here's to you

Now, those lyrics are split between various students:

(FEUILLY)

Drink with me to days gone by

Sing with me the songs we knew

(PROUVAIRE)

Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads

(JOLY)

Here's to witty girls who went to our beds

(ALL STUDENTS)

Here's to them and here's to you

A far more touching scene now that it entails an entire group of friends reminiscing about their lives, as opposed to the thoughts of one heavily drunk individual.

Originally this was followed by a segment by the male ensemble:

Drink with me to days gone by

To the life that used to be

At the shrine of friendship never say die

Let the wine of friendship never run dry

Then, this was followed by the same lyrics, but sung by the male and female ensembles overlapping. The Broadway libretto removes that and replaces it with an all-new segment with Grantaire. It's much more cynical and philosophical than his original lines:

Drink with me to days gone by

Can it be you fear to die?

Will the world remember you when you fall?

Could it be your death means nothing at all?

Is you life just one more lie?

The lyrics from the pre-Broadway show, in their male-and-female overlapping form, are played afterwards.

The next change occurs during the Second Attack. Pre-Broadway, this was how the opening lyrics went:

(ENJOLRAS)

How do we stand, Feuilly make your report

(FEUILLY)

We've guns enough but bullets running short

(MARIUS)

Let me go into the street

There are bodies all around

Ammunition to be had

Lots of bullets to be found

Some very small edits were made for Broadway:

(ENJOLRAS)

How do we stand, Feuilly make your report

(FEUILLY)

We've guns enough but ammunition short

(MARIUS)

I will go into the street

There are bodies all around

Ammunition to be had

Lots of bullets to be found

The following exchange also is a bit edited. Here's how it went pre-Broadway:

(ENJOLRAS)

I can't let you go, it's too much of a chance

(MARIUS)

And the same can be said for any man here

(VALJEAN)

Let me go in his place, he's no more than a boy

I am old and alone and have nothing to fear

Post-Broadway, it instead goes as follows:

(ENJOLRAS)

I can't let you go, it's too much of a chance

(MARIUS)

And the same is true for any man here

(VALJEAN)

Let me go, he's no more than a boy

I am old, I have nothing to fear

Finally, Gavroche's final lines are as follows pre-Broadway:

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

You’d better run for cover when the pup grows up

And we’ll fight like twenty armies and we won’t give…

A small edit is made for the Broadway production, so that the latter two lines are reversed:

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

We’ll fight like twenty armies and we won’t give up

So you’d better run for cover when the pup grows...

I'd say this is an improvement, since Gavroche's death is all the more impactful when his literal last unfinished words are about growing up.

Not long afterwards comes the Final Battle. Leading up to Enjolras' climactic moment, the original lines went as follows:

(ENJOLRAS)

Come on my friends, though we stand here alone

Let us go to our deaths with our face to our foes

(COMBEFERRE)

Let 'em pay for each death with a death of their own

(COURFEYRAC)

If they get me, by God, they will pay through the nose

(ENJOLRAS)

Let others rise to take our place

Until the earth is free

The sequence was edited for Broadway, giving a bit more breathing space:

(ENJOLRAS)

Let us die facing our foes

Make them bleed while they can

(COMBEFERRE)

Make them pay through the nose

(COURFEYRAC)

Make them pay for every man

(ENJOLRAS)

Let others rise to take our place

Until the earth is free

"Dog Eats Dog" is a very heavily-edited number. First off, the vamping at the beginning originally lasts about 30 seconds. By Broadway, it has been reduced to about nineteen seconds.

After Thenardier's "As a service to the town" line, he originally sung the following lines:

It's a world where the dogs eat the dogs

And the worst is as good as the best

It's a stinking great sewer that's crawling with rats

And one rat is as good as the rest

I raise my eyes to see the heavens

And only the moon looks down

That entire sequence was cut for Broadway.

Soon afterwards, Thenardier originally proclaims "Here's a little toy". The Broadway edit changes it to "Here's another toy", perhaps to make it seem less repetitive after his "pretty little thing" line.

The exact same lines from after "As a service to the town" are repeated in the pre-Broadway number after Thenardier's "When the gutters run with blood" line, with one more line added afterwards:

It's a world where the dogs eat the dogs

And the worst is as good as the best

It's a stinking great sewer that's crawling with rats

And one rat is as good as the rest

I raise my eyes to see the heavens

And only the moon looks down

The harvest moon shines down

Unlike the first instance of those lines, they aren't completely excised for Broadway. They are, however, significantly rewritten:

It's a world where the dogs eat the dogs

And they kill for the bones in the street

And God in His heavens, He don't interfere

'Cause He's dead as the stiffs at my feet

I raise my eyes to see the heavens

And only the moon looks down

The harvest moon shines down

I really like how the edited version focuses more on godlessness than on how gross the sewer is. Not that a lack of a god is inherently sinister; I am quite agnostic myself and I think the unbreakable connection between religion and morality alleged by some is ridiculous. But it is blatantly obvious that Thenardier sees no reason to be moral provided no one will punish him.

As a side note, the 1985 London official soundtrack oddly uses this variant, yet the 1986 bootleg audio I have uses the original. Perhaps the original was experimented with, reverted, and later put in again? Who knows...

After the number, Thenardier now shouts Valjean's name.

The encounter in the sewers between Valjean and Javert originally ended as follows, with Javert's first two lines here in a tune not heard anywhere else in the musical to my recollection:

(VALJEAN)

Come, time is running short

(JAVERT)

Go take him, I'll be waiting at the door

I've never met a man like you before

A man such as you

The sequence was extended for the Broadway libretto, to the tune of "Look Down" and the "Work Song":

(VALJEAN)

Come, time is running short

Look down, Javert

He's standing in his grave

(VALJEAN - simultaneously with the next two lines)

Give way, Javert

There is a life to save

(JAVERT - simultaneously with the previous two lines)

Take him, Valjean

Before I change my mind

(JAVERT)

I will be waiting, 24601

A slight change can be heard in "Every Day". Originally Marius sings that he and Cosette will "remember that night and the song that we sang". The Broadway libretto edited this into the decidedly less medium-aware "remember that night and the vow that we made".

"Valjean's Confession" has been reworked to the point that it can scarcely even be considered the same song. After Valjean's "There's something now that must be done", this was how the song went:

(VALJEAN)

Monsieur, I cannot stay a night beneath your roof

I am a convict, sir, my body bears the proof

My name is Jean Valjean

I never told Cosette, I bear this guilt alone

And this I swear to you, her innocence is real

Her love is true

Our love, our life, are now her own

And I must face the years alone

(MARIUS)

I do not understand what's the sense of it all?

Is the world upside down?

Will the universe fall?

If it's true what you say, and Cosette doesn't know

Why confess it to me?

Why confess it at all?

What forces you to speak after all?

(VALJEAN)

You and Cosette must be free of reproach

It is not your affair

There is a darkness that's over my life

It's the cross I must bear

It's for Cosette this must be faced

If I am found, she is disgraced

(MARIUS)

What can I do that would turn you from this...

After the Broadway rewrite, Valjean's "There's something now that must be done" is followed by this:

(VALJEAN)

You've spoken from the heart, and I must do the same

There is a story, sir, of slavery and shame

That you alone must know

I never told Cosette, she had enough of tears

She's never known the truth, the story you must hear

Of years ago

There lived a man whose name was Jean Valjean

He stole some bread to save his sister's son

For nineteen winters served his time

In sweat he washed away his crime

Years ago

He broke parole and lived a life apart

How could he tell Cosette and break her heart?

It's for Cosette this must be faced

If he is caught she is disgraced

The time is come to journey on

And from this day he must be gone

Who am I?

(MARIUS)

You're Jean Valjean

What can I do that will turn you from this...

The few lines afterwards are the same, but as you can see not much else in the song is! Even the tune diverges a lot between the two variants. I'm very conflicted about which one I prefer. I gravitate towards the final one, though it's nice that the original actually tried to address to confusing notion that Valjean wants to tell his son-in-law of his past yet not his own daughter.

"Beggars at the Feast" originally ended with a solo for Thenardier:

(THENARDIER and MME. THENARDIER)

We know where the wind is blowing

Money is the stuff we smell

(THENARDIER)

And when I'm rich as Croesus

Jesus, won't I see you all in Hell!

The Broadway libretto switched this to a group line:

(THENARDIER and MME. THENARDIER)

We know where the wind is blowing

Money is the stuff we smell

And when we're rich as Croesus

Jesus, won't we see you all in Hell!

I much prefer the revised version, as the two Thenardiers clearly are in this act together. It seems more appropriate to let them both have the last laugh.

A small change occurs in the Epilogue. Pre-Broadway, Fantine sings "You raised my child with love". However, post-Broadway, she instead sings "You raised my child in love".

Another change occurs later in the epilogue. In the pre-Broadway show, Cosette tells Valjean that "It's too soon to ever say goodbye". The post-Broadway libretto instead has her sing "It's too soon, too soon to say goodbye". Repetitive as it may be, I prefer it over the original because the original awkwardly combines language clearly denoting the moment with language implying eternality.

Phew, we're finally at the end! Rest assured this is almost certainly the longest changelog you'll ever be forced to endure. I'm fairly sure it's complete, but this particular rewrite was so extensive it's not impossible that I missed something. Please feel free to let me know if that is the case.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, or some audios that you haven't traded in a few years, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

#les miserables #les mis #changelog #les mis changelog #marius #valjean #cosette #javert #eponine #enjolras #thenardier #1985 #1987 #broadway #part 3 #long post #the les miserables changelog

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someonestolemyshoes · 3 years

Note

Yo, saw your post about levihan prompts:

How about Hange discovering Levi’s secret hobby (of your choice)

Feel free to do whatever you feel like

And I love your work! 💕 have a good day

Hello! So sorry for the delay in this one, but thank you so much for your patience 🙏 I got stuck for such a long time in the middle of this ksksks but it is finally done! I also played around a little bit with the whole...discovering a secret aspect, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway! And I hope you're ready for some sweet sweet childhood friends levihan~

Levi likes photography.

This, in itself, is no great secret. Hange can barely remember a time he wasn't following after her with a camera strapped around his neck, or packed into his bag—always within reach, should something striking catch his eye. A little neon plastic toy, at first; each click of the shutter cycled through preloaded images, expert shots of famous landscapes, places they could only dream of seeing. And then, a polaroid—still a toy, in essence, still plastic, still gaudy, but this one took real pictures in real time, and spit them out into their eager, shaking fingers within seconds.

Hange remembers them ruthlessly wafting the little laminate squares and watching with bated breath as black mottled into foggy grey, as the blurred silhouette of the park bench faded slowly into being. It was a fascinating thing, at the time. Magic at their fingertips. The picture turned out fuzzy and overexposed in places, where the sun had glared in over the corner of the park bench, but Levi had settled the little square on his little palms and looked at it like he held the whole world in his hands.

There were innumerable disposable cameras, too. Light little things with reels of film, never enough for Levi's insatiable desire to snap pictures of every single thing he saw. They spent half their childhood in the chemist, sitting in the hard plastic chairs, wriggling anxiously as they waited for the film to develop. Kuchel always handed them the envelope, fat with prints, with a small smile curling the corner of her mouth and a fond twinkle in her eye, and Levi always took it politely, while Hange gave a boisterous thanks, and the pair of them delved greedily into their spoils.

He was older, in his early teens, when he was gifted his first real camera. It was heavy, compared to all the others, a case made of metal with buttons and gadgets and a fancy screen on the back, to preview each picture he took. Levi was wholly enamoured with it. He spent hours adjusting it, figuring out what each button and knob did, how they affected each picture; took countless shots of the same rock in the park until he'd tested every combination of settings he could think of.

He had cycled through more cameras since then. Grown a small collection, each one a little different, a little more suited to particular shots. Hange understood the concept in theory, but the particulars were lost on her, and Levi never took the time to explain. Not that she minded—Levi's pictures were beautiful, breathtaking in the way he could capture even the most mundane details and make them something wondrous. Perhaps for the first and only time in her life, Hange had no desire for the magician to reveal his tricks.

He has an eye for things that Hange simply cannot see. She is observant—to a fault, at times, intensely analytical and endlessly curious. Everything is a question, an opportunity to research, to learn, but she doesn't see the way Levi does.

Wild daffodil. Narcissus pseudonarcissus. Hange sees a perennial flowering plant, native to Western Europe, classified by its pale yellow petals and elongated central trumpet. She sees phylogeny with a rich taxonomic history; subspecies originating all over the globe, some larger, some smaller, some more vibrant and some more muted. She sees anatomy, science.

Levi sees the way the evening sun rusts the buttery petals until they blush; sees the way dew drops hang like pearls from the tips of the leaves in the early morning, when the light is still smoky and thin. He sees a moment to be captured.

It should be impossible for a picture to hold so much detail. Hange can look at Levi's daffodil and feel the way the spring wind blows gently on her skin, the sun warm but the breeze a little biting, a remnant of the fading winter. She can smell the pollen heavy in the air, feel the tickle of short grass on her ankles, hear the trill of songbirds in the branches of distant trees.

His proclivity for photography grows with them. Hange's interests spear out in a thousand different directions, from physics and chemistry to botany, to engineering, to literature and mathematics, to history, languages and landscapes—life is a limitless source of information and Hange chases it every which way, insatiable.

And wherever she goes, Levi dutifully follows, with his camera in hand.

Until now.

Now, they are eighteen. The summer is lazily drawing to a close, and tomorrow, at 8:45am, Hange will be boarding a plane that will take her to the other side of the world to attend the university of her dreams.

And Levi will be staying here.

Despite Levi's perpetual scowling and indiscriminate grunting, their last evening together had overall been a pleasant one. Levi and Kuchel had worked hard on their meal, and it had been nice in a warm, filling kind of way, to spend her last night at home with the two of them.

Now, she and Levi are holed up in his bedroom, while Kuchel had insisted on doing the clean up herself. Hange's mind has been churning non-stop for weeks now, ramping up with each passing day, and tonight, her thoughts are unstoppable, and they spill from her with giddy, jittery excitement.

"The university is huge, but my course is pretty small—only like, 30 places. It'll be easy to get to know everybody."

"Nn."

"And did I tell you? There's a museum right on campus? They've got a huge collection, and I heard students can access it after the first semester."

"Hm."

"And there's a flower garden, too—they've got species from all over the world, Levi. They'll have plants I've never even heard of."

"You said."

"Oh! And—my accommodation isn't all that far from the coast. The water looks beautiful in all the pictures I've seen—look, see?"

"I know. You showed me already."

Hange looks up from her phone, where the screen is lit with a bright, sunny beach, tan sand and a stark blue ocean. Levi flicks his gaze over it and offers a noncommittal shrug of his shoulder. Hange frowns at him.

"You could at least pretend to be excited, you know."

Levi gives her a deadpan stare.

"It looks...warm."

Hange sits back with a thump, and kicks weakly at Levi's shin. She pouts over at him. "Better than nothing, I guess."

They sit at opposite ends of the window bench in Levi's bedroom, legs tangled haphazardly together in the space between them. The window was thrown open in some vain hope of tempting in a breeze, but the air is thick, and the soft wind that does blow is still stiflingly warm. It sways Levi's fringe against his brow, but does little to stave off the oppressive heat.

The sky outside is dark, but it is alive with stars. They cast bright sparks on an inky black canvas, and there is no moon in sight. Already, Levi has snapped pictures of it, twisted dials and pushed buttons and switched lenses until he was satisfied.

It is a beautiful sight. Infinite.

Hange lets one leg dangle out the open window. Levi gives her a sour look and wordlessly closes one hand around her other ankle. She has a long history of behaving carelessly—Levi has borne witness to one too many slips and stumbles to trust her entirely. It would be just like Hange, to miss her flight in favour of a trip to the emergency room.

His thumb strokes back and forth absently. There is a callus there, rough and catching, that scratches against her sensitive skin.

Her predominant feeling is one of excitement. Studying abroad had been a dream of hers for almost as long as Levi had owned a camera—to travel beyond the bounds of their small rural town, to see more, learn more, fuel the relentless hunger in her. But there is an undercurrent of something else, some squirming discomfort that refuses to settle. It intensifies with every sweep of Levi's thumb against her skin until it sits heavy in her gut.

She looks over at him. His gaze is trained out the window, a small frown furrowing the skin between his brows, but his eyes are glassy, with none of their usual sharp, unwavering focus. Whatever he is looking at, he is not really seeing it.

It would be a lie to say that his silence had not troubled her. He had been quiet throughout dinner, opting instead to listen to Hange and Kuchel's companionable chatter as he pushed his food around his plate, and he had barely said a word since they had cleared the table and retreated to his room. He had hardly even looked her way.

Irritation bubbles within her. Levi is always more subdued than she is, content to sit quietly while Hange babbles endlessly, about anything and everything. But he usually has something to say. His silence, today of all days, makes her angry. They have one night left like this—one more night to talk, face to face, before they will be separated for who knows how long, and Levi is offering her nothing.

"Levi," she says, before she can think. Something in her tone must startle him, for he blinks rapidly, as though pulled out of a daydream, and rolls his eyes to look in her direction. His gaze settles somewhere near her shoulder. She bristles. "Can you at least—"

"Levi?" Kuchel's voice is distant, floating up from the bottom of the stairs. Levi looks at the door instead. "Can you come give me a hand for a minute?"

Hange clamps her jaw shut. Levi casts her another sidelong glance, and ticks his tongue against the back of his teeth. He squeezes her ankle once, then pushes himself to his feet. "Don't fall, idiot. I won't be long."

Hange feels distinctly like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum. It's immature, and perhaps it's unfair of her, but she had assumed that Levi's invitation for dinner might, at the very least, come with a little conversation.

She takes a deep, steadying breath. They never fight, not really—they bicker endlessly, poke each other's cheeks and pull each other's hair, childish rough housing that they never grew out of. But they don't fight and as grumpy as Hange feels about Levi's near silence, she doesn't want to start now. She runs a hand back through her hair and sweeps her eyes about the room, counting long, even breaths as she does.

Levi's room is immaculately neat and tidy. Everything has its place, on clean, dusted shelves, or stacked in straight, neat piles atop his desk. It is a level of organisation Hange has little energy for; she herself is a hurricane, picking up and dropping off detritus everywhere she goes.

But Levi's borderline obsessive cleanliness makes it easy to spot something that is out of place.

Hange's gaze falls on a drawer in the desk. The drawer itself is as immaculate as everything else, gleaming wood and a reflectively polished brass handle. What catches her eye is the corner of a glossy piece of paper, caught when the drawer had been closed.

Hange is a curious creature. Rarely can she hold herself back from exploring an unknown, and now is no different. She unfolds herself from the bench and stretches to stand, then crosses the room on light, tip-toed feet.

Levi is, by and large, a rather private person. He does not share much of himself openly, hides behind an impassive mask, guards what is dear to him close to his chest. Hange is an exception to this rule, whether Levi wanted her to be or not.

As such, she has no real issue prying the drawer open, and is unsurprised by the predictable contents within.

Photographs.

Of course it was photographs.

Her lips tug up in a fond smile and her eyes roll, but it is as she is reaching in to flatten out the rumpled picture that had been poking out of the drawer, that she notices what they are photographs of.

Her.

Hange picks out a stack and sits cross-legged in the desk chair. She flips through them, eyes growing wider with each new picture she uncovers. Every single one is of her. Some recent, some not so recent—some must be from the very first real camera, for she is still in her braces, all thin, gangly limbs and scruffy hair and taped up glasses.

There are pictures of her in the winter, mitten-clad hands wrapped around a paper cup of hot chocolate, blowing steam into the chill air. She can see in stark clarity, the red tip of her nose and the chill bitten over her cheeks; she can almost feel the cold, taste the cocoa on her tongue.

She finds a picture of her from an autumn years gone by. She remembers it as though it were yesterday—they had spent the whole afternoon raking fallen leaves in the courtyard behind Kuchel's cafe, scooping them into a terribly tempting mound beneath the shedding tree. Hange had been unable to resist. Levi had captured her moments after her dive into the pile, sitting up with her weight propped back on her hands, dry leaves clinging to her messy hair and sticking to the fibres of her cardigan. The sun was low, and it cast her in a golden glow, highlighting the vibrant red and orange of the fall foliage around her, drawing out the auburn undertone in her hair and the amber of her eyes. Her smile is almost blinding.

Another shows her in the spring, laying on her belly in the long grass beside a row of blooming daffodils. There is a book spread open before her and she is, as expected, engrossed in it; Levi has snapped the shutter as she was turning the page, the thin edge of the paper caught between the delicate tips of her fingers.

Hange has never considered herself to be particularly pretty. She is just...Hange, a little bit of wild, a little bit of manic, a lot of clumsy and dirty. Being attractive has never been of much concern.

But there is something in the way Levi has photographed her, time and time again, in the way the light catches her, the candid ease of each new picture, that looks....beautiful, in its own way. Somehow, he has made her mess into a masterpiece.

Levi likes taking pictures of things. Plants, rocks, rivers, landscapes and skylines—he likes capturing the mundanity of everyday life and turning it into something spectacular, but he has never done the same thing with people. As far as Hange was aware, Levi had taken very few pictures of anybody at all.

And yet, she holds this pile in her hands, and there are plenty more pictures littering the drawer before her.

There is a strange feeling brewing on her as she stares at them. She had been so excited about moving away to study, so eager to explore the world beyond their quiet countryside home, that the reality of leaving had never truly sunk in. She feels it now though, acutely; a hollow ache in her chest that grows with each picture she flicks through.

Levi has been her shadow for as long as she can remember. There are few memories that he is not a part of, few moments that she can recall in which Levi was not by her side—he has been a constant for her. Something certain and dependable.

And from tomorrow, he will no longer be there.

Hange had known this. She had known it from the moment she had accepted her offer, and she had known it as they looked through her options for accommodation together, as they explored the local area through pictures and videos and maps online. She had known it as they had prepared her visa, organised her finances. Booked her flights. Every step of the way she had understood, logically, rationally, that studying abroad meant leaving Levi behind.

But the weight of it is only hitting her now. The reality of it is like a slap in the face, a punch in the gut—it leaves her shaken and breathless in the worst way.

From tomorrow, Levi won't be with her at all.

Her grip tightens on the photographs hard enough to wrinkle the glossy paper.

She had done a pretty good job of not getting too emotional about the whole thing. For the most part, Hange had been overwhelmed by her own excitement—there had been no time for sadness between all the loose ends she’d had to tie up in order to make the move a possibility. Now though, all that is left is to head to the airport and board her plane. No more distractions.

Hange doesn’t realise she is crying until the bedroom door opens again, and Levi steps into the room, coming to a sudden halt halfway over the threshold.

Hange can't tell if Levi's look of shock is because of the open drawer and the pictures still clutched in her hands, or the tear tracks on her cheeks. He stops dead in the open doorway, fingers still curled around the handle, and for a moment he stares at her with eyes wider than Hange has ever seen them, but then his brow dips low and his lip curls, and his grip tightens around the door handle. Hange holds the pile of photographs close to her chest.

She is expecting anger. She doesn't suppose she could blame him if he lost his temper with her, then. She has a terrible habit of bulldozing into everything, after all, and perhaps this was the one thing Levi had longed to keep secret from her. Her snooping, on top of his already sullen mood—perhaps this is the final straw.

But instead, he turns his face away, staring resolutely into the corner of the room. Starlight spills through the open window. Even in the thin, muted light, Hange can see a vibrant flush colouring the skin high on Levi's cheeks.

Hange sniffles, and wipes clumsily at her cheeks.

"I didn't have you pegged as a closet pervert, Levi," she says, waving the handful of pictures at him. Her voice comes cracked, and weaker than she'd hoped. Levi's knuckles turn white.

It's a funny thing, seeing Levi embarrassed. His emotional expression is usually limited to small twitches, here and there—a slight furrow of his brow, a wrinkle of his nose, a soft twitch of his lip. Hange can count on one hand the number of times she has seen his feelings show so completely. It's almost painful to witness.

"I don't mind," she says. Levi doesn't look at her. Hange looks down at the pile again. "They're nice."

Levi finally releases his death grip on the handle and pushes the door closed. His eyes are still downcast and his cheek is still cherry red, but he hasn't run away and he hasn't snapped at her (yet). Hange takes these things as good signs.

"I didn't know you took pictures of people," Hange says.

"I don't."

"Are you saying I'm not people, Levi?"

Levi lets out a disgruntled sigh. He crosses the room, and plucks the pile of pictures from Hange's hands. His cheeks are still pink, and his brows are still furrowed, but he has composed himself some.

“No, you’re not,” he says. “You’re a creature. You’ve got snot all over your face.”

Hange laughs wetly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and rubbing the mess on her pants. Levi gives her a look of pure disgust, parking his hip against the edge of the desk beside her and skimming through a few of the pictures. There’s a curious expression on his face, a softness in his eyes that Hange isn’t used to seeing.

“Stalker,” she says. Levi kicks at the desk chair without looking up. “If you wanted a photoshoot, you could have asked.”

Levi scowls. He straightens the edges of the pictures with care, and sets them carefully on the desk. “If I wanted to take pictures of you posing, I would have asked.”

“Wanted to capture me in all my natural glory, huh?” Hange braces her elbows on the desk and rests her chin in both hands, grinning cheekily up at Levi. It must look ridiculous, with her watery eyes and the red point of her nose, but Levi isn't even looking at her to notice.

Levi says nothing. His gaze lingers on the pictures for a little longer, and the colour in his cheeks deepens. Hange nudges him with her elbow, smiling. The pictures are...sweet, in a way. There's something flattering about it. She slumps back in the chair, her smile wavering where a fresh wave of melancholy tugs at the edges of her lips.

“I’ll miss you, you know.” Hange’s voice cracks humiliatingly as she speaks. Levi looks over at her. Hange curses the wobble of her bottom lip and wipes at her eyes beneath her glasses. She isn’t expecting much; Levi is terrible at expressing feelings at the best of times, and so it’s more than surprising when, after a moment of consideration, he nods at her.

“Same.”

Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. Hange presses her fingers into her eyes, trying to stem the flow, ease the sting there. She doesn’t want to spend their last evening together crying, but now that the tears have begun, Hange can’t seem to stop them. A lump builds in her throat, aching beneath her tongue and she can feel her chin wobbling, lips pulling down at the corners. She sniffles pitifully, draws a shuddering breath.

“Oi…” Levi says, though he doesn’t sound angry, or even uncomfortable like she had expected. His tone is gentle. It rips a sob from her.

Hange feels him move closer. He jostles the front of the chair, and when she opens her eyes to look at him she finds him standing right in front of her, between chair and desk, looking at her with a furrowed brow. It’s different to his usual scowl—his brows are a little upturned in the middle, exposing some kinder emotion; something like worry, or concern.

Hange tilts forward until her forehead presses into his chest. Levi’s hand comes up quickly to the back of her head. His touch is familiar, comforting, and Hange cries a little harder when his fingers tunnel into her messy hair, cradling her against him.

She cries until she feels spent, sniffling and gulping empty air. Her fingers twist into the hem of Levi’s shirt as she composes herself, mumbling, “you’ll keep in touch, right? You won’t forget about me?”

Levi clicks his tongue at her. “Stupid,” he says. “As if you’d let me.”

“I’m serious.” She sits back and looks up at her. Her eyes are burning, raw and wet, and the skin of her cheeks stings from crying, but she looks at him with as much determination as ever and says, “call me. Every day.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not! Just once, every day. Even if it’s only five minutes.”

Levi flicks her between her brows. “You won’t have the time, dumbass.”

“I’ll make time.”

Levi scrutinizes her for a moment, then says, “I’ll text.”

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

Levi curls his lip and pulls at a lock of her fringe, muttering, “brat. Why don’t you call me?”

“I will,” Hange says plainly. Levi’s eyes widen a fraction. “I’ll call as much as I can. But you need to call me too, okay? I wanna hear from you a lot.”

There is a long pause, and then Levi turns his eyes away. The light in the room is pale and muted, but it is just enough to highlight the pale flush gathering anew on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. It’s almost cute.

“Fine. I’ll call. Happy?”

Hange grins at him. “Very. And I’ll send you photos of everything, all the time.”

Levi leans down towards her, pinching her nose between his thumb and forefinger and giving her head a little shake. “On your shitty phone camera?”

Hange nods. She bats his hand away and cranes herself up into his space, smiling something wicked. “You’ll hate it. They’ll be all blurry and I’ll have my thumb in the corner of every picture.”

“Pest.”

“Lots of selfies, too. So you won’t forget what I look like.” Hange blindly swipes up a picture from the desk, holding it up between them in front of her mouth and nose. Between Levi dipping down into her space and Hange stretching up into his, they are so close that Levi has to cross his eyes to get a look at it. “Not that I think it’ll be a problem.”

He rolls his gaze up to look at her over the top of the photograph. Up close, Hange can see just how bright the blue of his eyes is, how dark his lashes are; she can see the shadows they cast on his cheeks, the deepening flush bruising the skin red. Levi has always been a pale thing, but now, Hange can see the smattering of light freckles across his nose, barely visible in the low light. He looks pretty. Her heart stutters in her chest at the sight.

Hange has never fully understood Levi’s drive to photograph everything. To preserve any given moment, bottle up every minute detail. She sort of understands it, then—it’d be nice, she thinks absently, to save this particular view for forever. The thought makes her face grow warm.

“I won’t forget.” Levi’s voice is quiet, caught somewhere between embarrassment and uncertainty. He sways closer, rocks back, hesitates. And then he leans down and lets his forehead drop against hers. Hange can feel the press of his nose against her own, separated only by the picture between them.

Hange is used to being close to him. She’s a clingy person by nature, always grabbing him and hugging him, smooshing her cheek against his or shoving her face into his hair, but she is always the one to initiate such contact. Levi is tactile, in his own way—small, non-invasive touches, his fingers on her wrist or his palm at her back, always delicate, understated.

To have Levi enter so wholly into her space like this is new. It’s nice. Hange finds herself feeling very, very thankful for the paper between them, for the urge to lean forward and kiss him comes unbidden, so suddenly she isn’t sure she’d be able to resist the impulse if there hadn’t been a barrier in her way.

“Is it my dazzling good looks?” she says, acutely embarrassed by how breathless she sounds. Levi makes a small, noncommittal noise. His fingers find hers where she’s holding the picture, gripping it and pulling it until it slips out from between them. For the smallest moment, Hange feels the skin of Levi’s nose against hers, and the warm puff of breath on her lips, and then Levi straightens up, flipping the picture for her to see it.

“I’ve looked at your ugly mug every day for long enough. Don’t think I’d forget it so easily.”

It’s a truly unflattering photograph. Hange has her head tipped back, laughing boisterously at some thing or another, with her eyes pinched closed and chocolate sauce smeared over her lips, a drop of cream stuck to the end of her nose. Hange is sure she has looked better, but the thing is—despite her state, the picture still isn’t bad. Hange can hear the lilt of her own laughter and feel the tacky syrup, savour the sweetness of the cream on her tongue. There’s something so...animated about it, about the way the light dances over her skin and in her hair, and the way the background blurs around her, drawing her into sharp focus.

It’s nice, in a strange, unreserved kind of way.

But she’s still a mess. Hange snatches it and slams it down on the desk, glowering up at Levi.

“Why would you take that,” she whines, petulant. “You’re supposed to take pictures of nice things!”

“Because it’s very...you,” He says, neatly slotting the pictures back into the drawer, and moving back to sit on the window. Hange follows, drops herself onto the ledge opposite him with a pout.

“What, disgusting?”

Levi shrugs. “Messy. But...not bad.”

“I’m supposed to take that as a compliment, I guess? That’s almost sweet coming from you, Levi.”

Levi scowls over at her. She dangles one leg back out the open window, dropping the other heavily into Levi’s lap. He adjusts it until he is more comfortable, his hand wrapping again around her ankle, but does not let go once he has settled. He keeps a hold of her, his fingers tracing thoughtless patterns on her skin. The space between them is warm, comfortable. Hange leans her head back and breathes it in—the peace, the quiet, the simple pleasure of spending a tender evening with her favourite person in the whole world.

It’s nice. A small, frightened part of her doesn’t want it to ever end.

Hange has been set up in her student apartment for three weeks when the package arrives.

Moving had been harder than she had anticipated. She’d accounted for common issues—problems with her visa, her plane tickets, and had checked multiple transport options from the airport to her accommodation in case problems arose—but she hadn’t put all that much thought into what would happen once she settled at her apartment.

Unpacking had been boring. Her roommates were nice enough, the studious, bookworm-y type, but unlike Hange they weren’t overly sociable. They kept mostly to themselves in their rooms, perfectly content with brief conversations in the kitchen before retiring again, and with classes still two weeks away, Hange was finding the lack of social interaction difficult. She had explored some, but the city was vast in a cluttered, claustrophobic way. Hange had always enjoyed travelling, and had talked relentlessly of every adventure she could take herself on in a whole new country and all the new places she could explore, so much so that it was almost embarrassing, the way she had found herself so unwilling to stray too far from her accommodation without a companion by her side.

She’d felt a little homesick in the first couple of days, lonely and isolated. She missed the small comforts of the country, things she hadn’t even realised she had taken for granted. Quiet nights. Star studded skies. Long grass and trees and the fresh, earthy smell on the breeze. The city was unbearably loud at times, and even when the wail of sirens or the beep of car horns quieted, there was an unidentifiable hum beneath it all that never ceased even for a moment.

She felt Levi’s absence most acutely. Hange had known she would, but she hadn’t been prepared for how much it would hurt to be apart. She felt silly for it—it was ridiculous, to miss her friend more than she missed her own family, even. But Levi’s presence had been more constant than anything else, back home, and without him, she felt like a small part of herself was missing.

He called, as promised. Once a day, though oftentimes it was very late in the night for him, and he sounded tired. If Hange were less selfish, she might tell him to get some sleep instead—but she missed him. Hearing from him was the best part of her day.

It was about an hour before their designated call time when the post came. Hange answers the bell with a frown, which only deepens when the delivery driver hands her the package.

She takes it into her room, settling cross legged on the bed and inspecting the mystery item. It's a decent size, like a large shoe box, wrapped neatly in brown paper with her address lettered in tidy, familiar handwriting in one corner. Hange’s stomach lurches—she’d have recognised the writing anywhere, but her suspicions are confirmed by the return address. Levi’s.

She rips into the paper quickly, snatching up her keys to tear through the tape on the top of the box. It is stuffed full with packing paper, an envelope with her name on it sitting on the top. Hange picks it up and with trembling fingers, she opens it and unfolds the short note inside.

Hange,

Sorry things have been kind of shitty. This stuff might help or it might make things worse, but I figure you can just throw it out if it’s no good. Or give it away. Whatever. I don’t even know if all of this shit will make it through customs, so if you get an empty box it’s not my fault.

I don’t get how you eat half this junk, but I hope it makes you feel better, anyway.

Look after yourself. Eat real food.

Levi

Hange presses the note to her chest, grinning. Her heart aches, but having Levi go to this much trouble for her...it feels nice. Knowing he is still thinking of her. She’d never have admitted it out loud, but Hange had been concerned that perhaps Levi would forget about her after all, without her there to pester him all the time.

She pulls out some of the packing paper, and smiles widely at the rest of the contents.

Levi had put together what Hange can only call a care package. There are packs of her favourite snacks and sweets, things she’d complained she hadn’t been able to find in stores here; crisps, chocolate, hard candy, little mini boxes of sickeningly sugary cereal. There are tea bags with blends Levi knows she likes, each neatly labelled with instructions on what temperature to brew at and how long for. Levi had also packed some of the soaps Hange likes, the ones he uses but she refuses to buy for herself. The lavender scent drifts up out of the box and Hange’s heart squeezes tight in her chest. There’s a shirt in there, too—Hange recognises it at once, as one of Levi’s old, worn tees, thin grey cotton that feels impossibly soft in her hands. It’s far too big for either of them, and had always been the go-to item Levi would chuck at her when she decided she was staying over for the night and had nothing to wear to bed. Hange pulls it on quickly, savouring the soft feel and the smell of it.

In the bottom of the box, there is another envelope. This one is thicker than the first, and Hange knows what it contains before she even opens it.

Photographs. A small pile of them, depicting places she and Levi had frequented from when they were children right up until this last year—her favourite part of the forest, where the trees thin out and the river pools at the foot of a small waterfall. The great, open fields, sometimes full of long grass, sometimes clipped short and striped with windrows. Kuchel’s cafe, with umbrellas raised to block the sun on the tables outside, or else warm and low-lit and cosy in the cold winter. Hange settles back on her pillows as she flicks through each picture, a soft smile on her face. Looking at the images of home hurts, but it isn’t a terrible pain—she longs for these old times and these familiar places, but each recovered memory makes her happy.

In Levi’s pictures she can vividly recall moments in each and every location. He works some kind of magic with a camera, to trigger so many sensory memories—the scent of freshly cut grass, the feel of hay, dry and sharp, poking into her back through her clothing, and the gentle trickle of the river water, the splash of it as it runs over the falls, the feel of it cool on her skin. The tangy zest of fresh-pressed orange juice in the cafe, peach fuzz on her lips and the soft flesh of ripe fruit bursting between her teeth, sticky nectar coating her fingers.

Hange looks at each picture in turn, until she reaches the bottom of the pile, and there she stops abruptly, eyes widening at the last photograph Levi has packed for her.

It is one of Hange, taken in the window of Levi’s bedroom. She was looking out at the night sky, her elbow braced on her bent knee, chin in her palm, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth. The starlight haloed her, shining from her hair and illuminating the jut of her chin, the curve of her nose and the slope of her brow. Behind her, Levi had captured the bright glow of the stars like jewels on a deep velvet canvas. She looked peaceful. Happy. For lack of a better word, beautiful.

Hange grins widely. Her eyes sting and her throat aches, but the picture—the whole box, really—makes her happier than she's felt in weeks. She brews her favourite cup of tea from the blends Levi had sent her and settles into the corner of her bed, lifting her phone to snap a quick selfie. She sends it to Levi, complete with a caption: thank you for my presents 😊 all ready for your call!

Levi responds almost immediately, first with a simple you're welcome. And then, after a minute, you look good. Speak to you soon.

Hange sinks deeper into the cushions, cradling her tea close to her face, masking the pleased flush on her cheeks with the heat from the steam.

Hange keeps him longer than usual, today.

There is a simmering warmth in her stomach as she listens to Levi's voice over the line. It comes tinny through the speakers, low and rough in the late hour, and his dark, grainy image looks tired, lamp light casting him half in shadow. They talk of everything and nothing, same as always—Levi tells her about his day, about the cafe and Kuchel, and Hange pouts as she tells him how little progress she is making in befriending her new housemates. Levi never voices any concern for her aloud, but Hange can sense it in the dip of his brows as she talks. She gives him a genuine smile when she reassures him that classes will start soon, and she's confident she will settle better after that.

Levi seems reluctant to leave, but after a little over an hour of aimless, comfortable chatter, he is yawning and blinking heavily, the lower half of his face nuzzled into his pillow. In the end, Hange makes up some watery excuse about visiting the coast while the sun is still high, if only to let him get some sleep.

"Sure. Have fun."

"I will! Sleep well, Levi."

Levi hums. The view shifts, blurry and indistinct, the mic muffled by the rustle of sheets, and when everything settles he is laying on his side, fringe mussed and falling over his eyes. He covers another long yawn with his fist. "I will."

"You'll call tomorrow?"

Levi rolls his tired eyes, but the corner of his mouth pulls up in a fraction of a smile. "Sure."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Hange grins. Levi watches her for a long moment, eyes scanning over her face. Then he holds up a hand in a tired wave. "Night, Hange."

"Night."

Hange stares at the screen for too long when the call ends. That terribly selfish part of her would have loved to keep his company for the rest of the day. Maybe, with a little travel sized Levi in the palm of her hand, she'd have been brave enough to explore some more, enthused about all the new things to see with somebody to share them with.

Sighing, Hange drops her phone to the desk and stands from the bed, stretching. There are still things she can do—she has plenty of recommended reading to get through, a small mountain of books at her disposal, and she has mapped the route to her campus often enough that she isn't feeling too overwhelmed by the prospect of the journey.

As she heads for the door, Hange notices something on the floor beside the bed. A neat, rectangular piece of paper; one of the photographs Levi had sent her, laying face down on the ground.

She picks it up again and brings the paper close to her face. Levi had written something on the back of it in small, quick letters, less tidy than his usual practiced script, as though he’d scribbled it as an afterthought, or else that he wasn’t sure he really wanted her to read it.

There is a date, the same night she had found Levi’s secret photo stash, followed by Hange’s name, and the location of the shot. And beneath that Levi had scrawled a few words. Hange squints to read them, and then her eyes grow wide, blinking owlishly down at the note. Her heart swells almost painfully and something solid balloons within her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Her lips tremble into a smile as she props the picture carefully on the bedside table.

The day is still young. Hange brews herself another cup of Levi’s tea and settles on the bed with one of her books, content to spend the next few hours reading—though she finds it strangely difficult to focus, with the words Levi had written on the back of the photograph swirling round and round in her head. Hange doubts they will leave her any time soon. They left her feeling more homesick than ever, but there is a soft, giddy kind of comfort in them all the same. It's a feeling that Hange will savour for as long as she possibly can.

It's weird here without you. Come home again soon x

#ask #levihan #my writing #snk #the way this has kicked my ass for hjkjhg MONTHS #I'm so sorry for the delay but thank you so much for the prompt!!! I was so excited to work on it #and I'm glad I finally got it finished :)#sorry it once again got incredibly out of hand length-wise #drabble my ass

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bvccy · 4 years

Text

Nothing to Despair | Preview 2 / Work In Progress

PAIRING: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before are asked, because of their language skills, to go undercover as married on a two-week mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, and notices his partner feels similarly isolated. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily persuaded.

WARNINGS: Just nightmares and hurt/comfort, MORE ANGST

WORD COUNT: 2K

A/N: It's been 84 years and the fic is still not done, so have another preview. I didn't wanna post more, and this is a rough version, but then N I G H T M A R E S happened and NEW GIFS I was just bouncing to contribute so here, have this. Ironically, it's not Bucky having the nightmare in my fic, it's the reader/MC having one and being comforted by him, but still gonna take advantage of this lovely gif <3

She was running aimlessly away, but he was always behind her. She could hear him catching up, and if she turned her head she could see him coming closer, and his angry heaving breath was almost right behind her, and then she woke up.

Laying in bed frozen stiff with fear, her eyes took in the darkness of — oh, her hotel room at the Grand Continental in Cer. She stood up in bed and looked around: safe, quiet, and if she tried to remember her dream she already couldn't. She picked up her phone on the bedside table, fiddling with the Stark tech to see the time: 3:36 AM.

The fear was so intense she thought she would die if she didn't hold another person, right now. She had never felt anything like this in her life: not when falling out of a tree, not when flying, not when she got the mission from Steve, not when Bucky cornered her…

Bucky. He was sleeping in the other room. If she could just — No. He would either laugh at her for being silly or resent her for waking him up. She could almost hear him now: "You woke me up, for this? Take it like a big girl and go back to bed."

But there's never been a fear like this… in her blood and her bones, and her mind and underneath it. Through the silence of the room, she could hear her own heart thrumming, and though she knew it was impossible, a part of her mind was certain there was someone there with her, waiting, ready to —

It took three minutes of hugging herself in bed and trying, uselessly, to not be scared to absolute death before her heart won over her head and she stepped lightly to Bucky's room. She didn't even knock, she scratched at the door lightly. If he was awake, he'd hear it; if he wasn't, she won't wake him up.

No response. When she turned the handle slowly and inched the door open enough to poke her head through, only then did Bucky stir in bed. She could just make out the shape of him through the light from the window.

As he groaned sleepily and shifted in his sheets to get up, she wasn't sure if he was upset with her or not, and it didn't escape her notice how his hand went underneath the pillow — a weapon hidden there, most likely — but then he spoke into the dark and sounded gentle, if groggy.

"That you, doll?"

"Yeah… Can I come in?" she whispered, clinging to the door and trembling.

"Something happen?" asked Bucky, practically awake already.

"No, nothing, but — " How to tell him, how to explain a reason as dumb as this?

He was sitting up in bed by now, rubbing his face with his flesh hand, and then he looked right at her. "Come on in."

She stepped through gratefully but still ashamed, holding onto herself in her flimsy nightgown as she padded to his large bed. As she got closer, she could finally see him: soft hair ruffled, a stubble just barely grown, a plain white tank top stretching across his chest and the hint of scarring around the left shoulder.

His eyes looked curiously up at her, even worried. She hated depending on him, or anyone, and he'd noticed it. So when she looked at him pleadingly from beside his bed, he looked ready to listen, and to do almost anything.

"This is so stupid but —"

"Tell me."

"I'm really sorry to bothe—"

"It's ok, just tell me."

"I had a nightmare please don't laugh at me."

He wordlessly lifted the duvet and patted the bed for her to lie down.

She got in quickly and, before she could think of whether it was the smart thing to do, snuggled up into his body, her face at his neck and knees brushing against his stomach. She had enough control to keep her arms folded to her chest and didn't grab onto him, although she wanted to. Her heart was still beating powerfully away, her ribs and neck pulsing with its rhythm, her breath near panting.

"Thank you. I'm so sorry I woke you up."

"It's ok." he shushed her, one heavy arm going up to tuck her in then staying curled around her, braced against her back on top of the covers.

"This never happened before." she whispered apologetically. "I think I'll be fine in… a few minutes."

"Get the adrenaline out of your body, I know."

She paused and wondered if she should ask, then decided. "You get like this too?"

"Night terrors? Yeah, used to have them a while."

"I don't think it's a night terror… Not really."

"Good." he breathed into her hair, a touch away from a kiss.

It made sense why he'd be so sympathetic. He probably understood what she was going through better than she did, and suddenly she was filled with pity at the thought of him going through that alone — that and even worse, which was unimaginable. She snuggled in just slightly closer, but this time it was not for her own sake, and she regretted, with the strength of real guilt, that she did not know him sooner, that she couldn't be there for him when he needed someone —

"H-how did you get over yours?"

— if, in fact, he didn't have someone already.

"Slowly."

She sighed and rubbed her knuckles against his chest, the closest thing to a caress she could manage, and all around her she felt him freeze for a second in an intake of breath.

"M-must've been some nightmare." to get you to cuddle with me, he left unsaid. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." she sighed. "I already forgot it. But this fear, it's not going away…"

"It's quite something, isn't it." Bucky softly said, the arm around her back moving slightly to brush a thumb over her shoulder in slow, caressing motions.

She burrowed deeper into his chest, feeling surrounded by his warmth as his chin rested lightly on top of her head, both of them melting into the pillows. Slowly, her fear left her, and she became aware of the scent of him burning her up from the inside, sharp and spicy and just a bit sweet, and how she could just about hear his heartbeat, and his breathing, and how she had never seen that much of his naked skin before — though she barely could at all in the dark.

His fingers started making circles over her shoulder, lazy and absentminded, and she had to bury the mournful thought that this was the first time she'd ever felt anything like it.

Bucky pulled her imperceptively closer, bit by bit as the tension left her, and soon the back of her curled hands fell to rest against his chest, her knuckles pressed against a naked patch of skin. She felt him inhale sharply at the contact, and underneath his sheets she too trembled at the quiet tenderness.

"Don't worry, doll." he breathed into her hair. "I'll keep you safe."

She must have dozed off at some point. She became aware of Bucky's hand now hung around her hip, her own arm flung around what measure of him she could reach. Her head was resting on his broad chest and one leg was curled on top of his underneath the blankets. He seemed sound asleep, breathing softly beneath her, head tilted toward her as the faintest sliver of morning light shone through the curtains.

Without moving her head much, she looked up at his face. Bucky seemed more grim asleep than he did awake, his delicately drawn mouth resting in a frown, his brows low and with a hint of tension, his unshaven cheeks scruffy and dark. He must've put on a bit of a show to seem cheerful in front of her, when he did…

She let her eyes lick across his figure, down his thick neck, the stretch of tough skin, and the chest with the hint of hair peeking from underneath the tank top. She breathed in the warm scent of him and suddenly the feeling of his arm gripping her waist, even in the gentleness of sleep, was overwhelming.

There was too much of him, too close, too trusting, too intimate, so wide open just for her, and the inescapable hint of his affection distressed her: with how impossible it was, with how demanding it promised to be.

Slowly, she lifted her cheek off his chest and slinked away, his hot hand scraping across her figure as she went and stepped backwards onto the floor, trying to move the bed as little as possible. She looked at the watch on the bedside table: 4:55 AM.

Tip-toeing away, she left his room and closed the door with the faintest click she could manage.

Bucky opened his eyes to find his bed empty, the room quiet and just light enough for shadows to stretch across the length of it. It was just like every other morning but somehow, through her presence the night before, she'd taken something away. It's not like he'd hoped to wake up to her in his arms. Of course not. That would be silly.

His hand moved over the sheets: cold. She probably left as soon as he fell asleep. It was amazing enough that she had come at all, but then again he had an idea of how her nightmare made her feel; if hers were anything like his, she'd have gone to just about anyone. Even… Don't finish that thought.

He turned in bed, his back to where she'd been, facing the windows and the balcony glass doors beyond which the crowns of far trees swung in the morning air, big and beflowered and brimming with birds. It was, in every other way, a beautiful morning.

And things were so close to being perfect. He had her there, he'd held her in his arms, he'd been given the chance to be good to her, and wanted, and there when she needed him, and over it all hung the cloud of wonder at what a rare person he had found in her. Yes, she was a bit sullen sometimes and unassuming, but he realised those things were what he liked so much about her, that opening to being cared for so precisely shaped for what he had to give.

She wasn’t like the women he remembered from before; she didn’t try to make herself seem softer or sharper or more cheerful than she was, with a carefully curled mane of hair or an impossibly fertile figure, nor was her every gesture an invitation to flirt. She was dull and tender by comparison, a little sensitive and a bit sad, like a girl that never grew up but who, with so small a twist, might suddenly become beautiful.

When he pushed aside his guilts and longings, Bucky was grateful for all those little faults she had. He knew that if she poured her energies into seduction, she could be terrifying and irresistible. So he decided that he liked her distant and sullen and shy, even if it kept her from him. If anything, it only made him like her more, long for her more, want her for his own flawed self; take his pity, that her pride couldn't stand, and turn it into the most dedicated caring.

But he wondered was was wrong with her — what was wrong with him for her. She could hardly stand more than a few seconds' touch from him, like a raw nerve. Did she just not like the way he looked, or walked? Or the things he said, or how he treated her, or talked? Was it the arm? Was it his age? Was it who he was?

All of these were plausible, but somehow it felt like he was missing something. She wasn't just indifferent, she was so deliberately distant it almost seemed calculated. And she didn't just decide to avoid him, he realised: she did it instinctively. Her body reacted first, and she followed. At the periphery of these unhappy thoughts was the pitying realisation that she'd had practice.

Bucky wasn't heartbroken by her tacit rejections, of course not, he wasn't that far gone yet (but there was no way his was the first heart she'd broken).

He thought back to how she was around other men. Charming, more cheerful, joking and flirty but still, in the end, distant. All the teasing jokes distracted from her, all deep conversations distracted from her, all heartfelt consolations distracted from her, every incline of her body faced away.

After only a few minutes, Bucky relented and turned, burying his face into the pillow she'd slept on. It actually still smelled faintly of her hair. It was so specific to her and so comforting, her perfume mixed with something sweet and cloying and just a touch salty, it made his mouth water and his loins burn.

He rolled onto his back, lifted the sheets off his body, and looking down he noticed the state of himself.

"Down, boy." he sighed. "She's not here anymore."

Bucky rolled out of bed and got ready for his morning push-ups. They always made him feel better… Maybe he could add another couple hundred today.

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 4 years

Text

no body, no crime - allison argent x reader

(gif source)

Summary: When y/n disappears after confronting her husband about his affair, Allison takes matters into her own hands. Based on “no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)” by taylor swift [x]. You can find the mood board for this fic here

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: cursing, infidelity, implied kidnapping, implied murder, murder, alleged murder, alleged/implied death of reader, reader is married to a man with a j name 🤢

a/n: hi everyone! it’s been a hot minute since i posted a new fic & this is why. i’ve been working on this since late december of 2020, so this is the longest i’ve ever spent on a stand-alone work. i’ll include more gory details about the writing process at the end if you’re interested :)

dedicated to: elle (@demxters) for all of her help and ideas! this fic literally wouldn’t have gotten finished without her, send her some love <3

this is also dedicated to caoimhe (@free-pool-trash) for not murdering me after i gave her a preview several weeks ago and then just ✨stopped writing✨

master list

Este's a friend of mine

We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine

“Hey!” Allison greeted cheerily as she met y/n at their usual table tucked in the corner of their favorite restaurant. y/n returned the brunette’s smile as she stood up to hug her friend, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Allison saw through y/n’s facade and furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” she asked as concern spread across her features.

“I think Justin is having an affair,” y/n admitted. The statement dropped like a bomb between the two women, causing Allison to nearly spew the wine in her mouth all over the table. She coughed a few times and drank some water to clear her throat before she composed herself enough to ask questions.

“What happened? Did you see something?” Allison asked hesitantly. Her mind was still reeling from the mere concept of y/n’s husband cheating on her. Sure, Justin had never been Allison’s favorite guy, but it was normal for girls to think that no guy would ever be good enough for their best friend. Right?

Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity

She says, "That ain't my merlot on his mouth"

"That ain't my jewelry on our joint account"

y/n explained what had been going on over the past few weeks. Justin had been acting distant, which wasn’t too abnormal, but when he started coming home from work much later than his shifts ended and disappearing at odd hours of the night, y/n got concerned. The day that she had planned to approach him about everything and ask if anything was wrong, she got a call from her bank while driving home from work.

“Hi Mrs. y/l/n, this is Kathy from the bank. I’m calling to inform you that there have been a few large cash withdrawals from your joint account recently under your husband’s name, as well as a pretty expensive purchase yesterday at the jeweler,” the rest of Kathy’s words sounded muffled to y/n. It was nowhere near her birthday, Valentine’s day, or their anniversary, so y/n didn’t know what he could possibly be spending all their money on.

The next incident came a few days later when both y/n and Justin were home. y/n’s husband was in the shower and his phone buzzed with a new text message alert. Typically, y/n was never the type to snoop on her husband’s phone, but she figured she should check in case it was a work message. At least that’s how she justified it in her head. Justin had saved the sender’s number under the contact name “Spam Risk.” It was clever, y/n had to give him credit for that at least. Upon further inspection, y/n quickly realized that those texts weren’t sent from a telemarketer bot.

6:24 p.m. I can’t wait to see you tonight, baby - Spam Risk

6:25 p.m. Don’t keep me waiting too long ;) - Spam Risk

y/n thought the messages were strange, but the picture that followed the messages was definitely what threw y/n for a loop. There, on her husband’s text message thread, was a racy photo of a woman’s body that definitely wasn’t hers. y/n was quite literally stunned to silence as she dropped the phone back down onto the dresser. For the rest of the night, y/n was numb and quiet, not that Justin noticed. Then, like clockwork, he left the house at 11 p.m. with no explanation of where he was going or when he would be back.

By the end of y/n’s story, Allison’s mouth was open so wide she was sure her jaw would hit the table.

“What are you going to do?” Allison whispered, still in shock. y/n grimaced before clearing her throat and speaking her next words with finality.

No, there ain't no doubt

I think I'm gonna call him out

Este wasn't there

Tuesday night at Olive Garden at her job or anywhere

“Hi, there should be a reservation for two under Allison Argent or y/n y/l/n for tonight,” Allison greeted warmly as she approached the hostess stand at their go-to girl’s night restaurant.

“Right this way, ma’am,” the hostess said with a smile as she grabbed two menus and led her towards their usual table. Two menus. That must mean that y/n wasn’t there yet? Allison thought it was strange, y/n almost always was the first of the two to arrive. Allison brushed off the thought as she thanked the hostess and sat down. She had intended to look over the menu, but the strangeness of it all wouldn’t leave her mind. y/n was late. She was never late. Allison pulled out her phone to text her best friend, and it then occurred to her that she hadn’t heard from y/n since last week. Allison had been away on a “work” trip with her dad for the past six days and had just gotten back into town. After 30 minutes of sitting at the table alone, half a dozen unanswered text messages, and even more calls sent straight to voicemail, Allison dropped a few bills on the table and left.

As Allison pulled out of the parking lot, she turned on the radio in a futile attempt to drown out some of her racing thoughts. Between songs the radio host took to the mic to make an announcement.

“Hello Beacon Hills, we now interrupt your regularly scheduled listening with an urgent message from the Sheriff's department. Speaking now is Sheriff Noah Stilinski,” the host trailed off before there was a brief crackle as the audio transitioned to the Sheriff’s press briefing. Allison turned up the volume as the Sheriff’s voice carried across the radio.

“Thank you all for attending and tuning in. It is with great displeasure and a heavy heart that I inform you all that y/n y/l/n has been reported missing. Shortly after 8 a.m. this morning, we were informed by her husband that she didn’t show up for work yesterday morning and also didn’t come home last night,” Sheriff Stilinski continued speaking but it all began to sound like white noise to Allison. It took everything she had in her to focus on not veering off the road so that she could head to the Sheriff’s station and speak to Stilinski in person.

Conveniently, her route took her right past y/n and Justin’s house. Allison didn’t know what to expect as she sped by their house, but the fact that Justin’s normally filthy truck had been cleaned and waxed definitely caught her eye. The truck and driveway were soon out of sight due to the speed she was driving at, but at first glance, it looked as though his tires and grill had been replaced.

He reports his missing wife

And I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires

About a week had passed since y/n had been reported missing. Allison wasn’t sure how many search parties had been held, but they all resulted in the same thing: nothing. There wasn’t a single trace of her best friend, in fact, everything in Beacon Hills looked completely unchanged and normal. Allison’s focus and appetite seemed to have left with her other half, try as she might to desperately hold onto them. Her marksmanship had even been affected, something that hadn’t happened since high school.

Allison started driving around town during her free time. She wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, she mostly did it to try to clear her mind, though most times she was unsuccessful. She’d been mindlessly taking right and left turns and before she realized where she was, she passed y/n’s house.

Allison hadn’t planned to slow down as she passed the house, it was a mindless act if anything. Seeing a moving truck backed up to the house while Justin and some unfamiliar blonde woman were unloading boxes ensured that her decision to park her car where it couldn’t be seen and spy on the pair wasn’t mindless. Despite her gut telling her not to, Allison decided to give Justin the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he needed a roommate now since y/n couldn’t pay her share of the rent? Allison tried her best to keep all of her judgments and suspicions at bay as she watched the otherwise uneventful event unfold while biting her fingernails.

A few boxes later, Justin pulled the blonde in by her waist and kissed her with a fervor that would make most people blush. Allison’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she sat there in shock with her mouth wide open. It took a while, mostly because the kiss lasted for an obnoxious amount of time, but Allison finally regained control of her body. It was like her brain had to go through a hard reset before she was able to face the reality of the situation.

y/n was right. Justin was cheating on her. Not only that, but Justin had cheated on y/n, spent less than a week grieving her disappearance, then allowed this to happen.

And his mistress moved in

Sleeps in Este's bed and everything

Allison found out that Justin Smith’s mistress’s name was Rebecca Baker. She was a few years younger than y/n and she worked at the same company as Justin. It didn’t take long for Allison to hack into both of their iCloud accounts. A few hours of scrolling later she was really regretting her decision, especially when she got to Justin’s messages to Rebecca about y/n.

2:47 a.m. What about your wife? - Spam Risk

2:47 a.m. What about her? - Justin

2:48 a.m. Are you going to leave her or kick her out or something? - Spam Risk

2:48 a.m. It’s been taken care of. - Justin

2:48 a.m. Taken care of? Justin, what does that mean? - Spam Risk

2:49 a.m. Justin??? - Spam Risk

Each new message ensured that bits of Allison’s fingernails had been gnawed off while her left hand fidgeted anxiously in front of her mouth. Allison decided that those messages were probably the most incriminating thing she’d find digitally, but the time and date stamps caught her eye. The texts were sent early Monday morning, the day that y/n allegedly left home and then didn’t show up for work or return home.

A chill spread from deep within Allison’s bones up to the surface of her skin, making goosebumps appear. Allison didn’t know what exactly, but she knew something terrible had happened to y/n and Justin had something to do with it. She shut her laptop a little harder than necessary as a resolved look spread across her face.

No, there ain't no doubt

Somebody's gotta catch him out

Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen

Allison regularly accessed her personal armory, whether it was to prepare for a job or pack for a trip to the shooting range, but it had been a while since a powerful and unforgiving feeling hung over her shoulders. Allison carefully ran her fingers over her custom silver arrowheads as she considered her options. Her father’s words from one of her adolescent archery lessons rung in her head.

“The type of bow and arrows you use doesn’t matter. As long as you use them right, you’ll be able to make any shot. Don’t get hung up on the technicalities.”

Not too long after, her bag was stocked with her essentials: a bow, her trusted black leather archery glove, as well as a handful of arrows, though these ones lacked the silver heads she typically reserved for more exotic expeditions.

The rare dark clouds in the California sky at sunset were reflected in Allison’s cold eyes. The drive to her target’s house was familiar, the turns she made were almost instinctual. Normally these roads reminded her of her coffee dates with y/n and nights they spent talking for hours until sunlight crept through the windows. Now, her mind was blank and her heart was devoid of all emotion.

Even though Allison had disabled her car’s GPS earlier, she parked her car about a mile away from his house. When she was done, there wouldn’t be any evidence that could be traced back to her. She memorized his schedule; at 5:00 p.m. his shift ended and recently he’d been getting home by 5:20. His girlfriend got home sometime between 5:30 and 5:45, but she would leave for her pilates class around 6:30 and wouldn’t get home until 7:45. Allison had just over an hour window to get the job done, but it wouldn’t take that long. If everything went according to plan, she’d be off the property within a few minutes of taking the shot.

When she arrived her target had just come home from work and was alone in the house. She waited patiently, hidden by the trees that the property backed up to. She watched as he moved around through the open curtains and then as his girlfriend entered the house and kissed him with a passion that made Allison’s stomach churn. She watched as they ate dinner together, as her target’s girlfriend got ready for her gym class, and watched as she got in her car and drove away. When Allison checked her watch it was only 6:25 p.m., she had far more time than she needed.

The plan was simple, really. Under the cover of darkness, she’d flip the breakers, effectively cutting the power. When her target came out to investigate, she’d let him fumble around in the darkness for a while. He’d always been a paranoid individual, so it wouldn’t take much to get him on edge. A rustle in the bushes here, a small snapped tree branch there, and then something that would get his attention. Allison wanted his eyes to be on her when she took the shot.

Allison’s target was watching TV so he knew immediately when the power went out, plus the fact that the once illuminated house was suddenly bathed in darkness. The high-pitched yelp that escaped his throat almost made Allison laugh. She had to keep quiet though, at least for now. As expected, the dopey man scurried around to the side of the house where the breakers were located in no time. The batteries in the flashlight he held were on their last leg, that much was evident in the way the light beam flickered every few seconds.

Just as he opened the door to the circuit breaker panel, Allison moved. A rustle here. The sound practically echoed in the silence of the night, causing the man to whip around and shine his flashlight directly at the source of the noise. There was nothing there. It’s just the wind, he reasoned before getting back to work. After a few switches had been flipped - none of them for the outdoor lights - he heard another noise. This one was much louder than the last, a small snapped tree branch there. Again, the flashlight’s flickering light beam uncovered nothing, but it was enough to make all of the hairs on the back of Allison’s target’s neck stand up straight. He hastily flipped the rest of the breakers and the outdoor lights finally came on.

When yellow light from the backyard fixtures flooded the area, both Allison and her target were revealed. Allison stood a considerable distance away from the man, but she was close enough to see the blood drain from his face and his Adam's apple bob. When his eyes darted to the bow hung by her side, realization dawned on his face. He began to turn away with the intention of running, but Allison’s voice held him frozen in place.

“Don’t move,” she ordered quietly without any aggression behind her tone. Her face wasn’t threatening, she just looked calm and focused. Allison’s smooth features and peaceful expression was what scared the man the most.

“I- I’m sorry- I didn’t-” he stammered out, his arms and legs beginning to tremble.

“Shh,” Allison chastised as she raised her bow, loading it with an arrow. Her fingers moved with precision, her muscles knew this routine well.

“Please don’t- no, you can’t, you can’t do this!” the man pleaded. He wasn’t above begging on his knees, but Allison wasn’t about to give him the chance. Her gaze was sharply focused on her target, the view of her tightly grasped bow in her peripheral vision.

“Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.”

When Allison’s fingers let go of the bowstring the arrow flew smoothly through the air. The only sounds heard were the arrowhead piercing skin and the man wordlessly falling to the ground. The arrow went straight through his heart. Maybe Allison’s shot landed right where she intended. Maybe there was a metaphor in there. Allison checked her wristwatch, the numbers 6:45 shining back at her. An entire hour to spare.

Time to take out the trash.

I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene

The job didn’t take long at all and it was definitely one of Allison’s least challenging ones, but it still felt nice to take a hot shower and sit in front of her fireplace with a cup of tea. The fire served a dual purpose; the crackles of the burning wood soothed her like a lullaby while the flames licked around and destroyed her bloody clothes from earlier. All of her equipment had been cleaned and put away, positioned exactly as it had been before. Everything was the same, nothing changed or out of place. There was just one less heartbeat in the world that night.

Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me

On the second day of the trial, Rebecca Baker’s lawyers were throwing whatever they could against the wall to see if something would stick. That morning they began to argue that Allison Argent might’ve abducted and murdered Justin Smith in retaliation for y/n’s disappearance. It was all speculation at best, but the theory unfortunately made sense to the jury. Before things could get too far, the prosecution called its first witness of the day to the stand.

“Mrs. Martin, where were you on the night of Mr. Smith’s suspected disappearance?” the prosecution lawyer questioned calmly.

“I was with Allison at my house. We were having a girls night in, you can check my security cameras,” Lydia answered confidently. Lydia still had a pocketful of favors from her MIT days, so when the jurors were shown the clips from Lydia’s home security cameras, they saw exactly what they would’ve expected based on Lydia’s testimony.

Truth be told, Lydia didn’t know anything about what happened that night; including Allison’s whereabouts and any details related to Justin’s alleged demise. All she knew was that Allison called and asked for a simple favor - an alibi for just a few hours. Lydia didn’t ask questions and Allison didn’t give answers.

Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

On the third day of the trial, Rebecca Baker took the stand. Her lawyers tried to help her as best they could, but the prosecution was ruthless. All of the evidence was circumstantial at best - all parties, including the judge and jurors, knew that - but it was enough to make everyone reconsider the spotless image the defense had tried to create for Ms. Baker.

“Ms. Baker, is it true that you knowingly engaged in a romantic relationship while Justin Smith was married to and living with his wife?” another one of the prosecution’s attorneys began.

“Yes,” Rebecca replied meekly. Allison internally scoffed from her seat in the gallery. She found irony in the fact that Rebecca didn’t find any humility or shame in sleeping with another woman’s husband until she was under oath.

“Is it also true that within approximately a week of Mrs. y/l/n’s disappearance, you moved into Mr. Smith and Mrs. y/l/n’s house?”

“That is correct,” Rebecca said as she began to wring her hands together anxiously. The judge tapped his wrist watch and shot a stern look towards the prosecutor. The man nodded in response and continued to his final points.

“I’ll wrap up my questions for you, Ms. Baker. Can you confirm that shortly after moving in with Mr. Smith, multiple legal and financial arrangements and adjustments were made? And these new arrangements make you the sole beneficiary of Mr. Smith’s life issuance policy, assets, and investments?”

By the end of the prosecution’s final question, every jury member and spectator sat up straighter and waited to hear Rebecca’s response with bated breath. The blonde ball of nerves sighed defeatedly before turning to face the attorney directly as she answered his question.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“No further questions, your honor.” As the lead prosecutor returned to the plaintiff’s table, Rebecca’s attorney stood up to address the judge.

“Your honor, the defense would like to request a brief recess,” the defense attorney nearly pleaded. Though his poker face was much better than his client’s, it was clear that he was getting nervous.

“We’ll reconvene in 15 minutes,” the judge ordered with a stern glare cast towards Rebecca.

They think she did it but they just can't prove it

It soon became clear to Rebecca that the recess her legal team requested was nothing more than a “kiss your dignity goodbye” meeting. If she hadn’t been queasy before the recess was called, she definitely was upon re-entering the courtroom.

The rest of the trial seemed to move in slow motion for Rebecca. A few more witnesses were called to the stand, more lackluster evidence was presented, both sides made their closing arguments, and the jury left to discuss the verdict. After what felt like an eternity, the jury returned with an official decision.

Silence settled over the room as a single juror stood to address the court.

“The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 1 of murder in the first degree based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 2 of kidnapping based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant guilty on count 3 of insurance fraud based on…”

The rest of the jurors’ statement sounded like white noise to Rebecca. She was just barely coherent enough to hear the judge deliver her punishment a few minutes later. $50,000 fine and 200 hours of community service.

Allison stuck around to the bitter end of the trial to hear the verdict in person. In all honesty, Allison didn’t want Rebecca to go to jail. It wouldn’t be right for her to serve time for a crime she didn’t commit, but Allison did find satisfaction in the fact that Rebecca would soon be picking up garbage in a fluorescent orange vest.

After the majority of the spectators had vacated the courtroom gallery, Allison leisurely gathered her things. Justice had been served to Justin, she personally made sure of that, and now justice had been served to Rebecca. The blonde and brunette women briefly locked eye contact as Allison made her way towards the exit.

“You did this,” Rebecca whispered to Allison. Suddenly, it was like a flip switched within her. One moment she was numb, yet calm and collected, and the next moment she was screaming (literal) bloody murder and had to be held back by her lawyers.

“YOU DID THIS! YOU KILLED JUSTIN, YOU BITCH!” Rebecca cried, though her words fell on deaf ears. Allison exited the courtroom with her head held high as the courtroom deputy and defense lawyers did their best to calm the hysterical woman.

She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it

A week later the court case was still on Allison’s mind but the emotional scars had begun to scab. Healing was never a straight or smooth path, Allison had learned that the hard way over the years, but this was a start.

y/n’s landlord had been generous enough to allow Allison to gather y/n’s things before he cleaned out the house for new renters. As Allison walked through the home she once considered to be an extension of her own, she felt her throat dry out and tighten up. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she was wiping salty tears off of the picture frames she’d carefully picked up. Each photo unlocked a new memory, some even elicited a chuckle out of Allison amidst her tears.

A photo from y/n’s wedding day stood out among all the rest as Allison’s eyes jumped from frame to frame. It was a candid shot Lydia had taken while they were in y/n’s dressing room before the ceremony. y/n looked as beautiful as ever in her flowy white gown and Allison’s mulberry maid of honor dress complemented it well. As Allison put the final touches on y/n’s hair and makeup, y/n fastened the clasp of a custom necklace behind Allison’s neck. On a thin, medium-length chain hung an arrowhead from the first time Allison had ever tried to teach y/n how to shoot a bow and arrow. y/n failed miserably, but it was a cherished memory for both girls. Since that day, Allison had only taken the necklace off a handful of times.

Allison smiled bittersweetly at the memory and wiped a fresh tear off of the decorative frame before pulling her necklace out from underneath her shirt. She pressed a gentle kiss to the cool silver arrowhead and then to the photo frame, right above y/n’s styled hair.

A feeling that Allison couldn’t quite explain flowed through her body just then; it was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being stuck underwater or seeing the gentle rays of the sun for the first time after a hurricane, it felt like freedom. Allison felt almost as if y/n was right there next to her, with her head resting on Allison's shoulder and wrapping her arms around the brunette’s torso. In that moment, Allison somehow wordlessly knew with every fiber in her being that y/n was finally at peace.

No, no body, no crime

I wasn't letting up until the day he died

a/n: AHHHH DID YOU LIKE IT? it was kind of a wild ride from start to finish and i definitely shed a few tears while i was writing it. please lmk what you think!

okay, now onto the writing process from hell: i started drafting ideas for the fic on dec. 21 or 22 of 2020, after i put together a mood board. i had written more than half of the fic when i decided i hated it and scrapped the whole thing on xmas eve (~3000 words 🤡). after that i was kinda in a rut and couldn’t decide how i wanted to end the fic so i ended up writing and deleting ~2500 words over the past month and a half. @demxters is an absolute GODDESS and helped me come up with the ending, so i am eternally grateful to her for that. if any of this seems a lil strange it’s probably because i finished writing it at 4:45 a.m. after working on it for 3ish hours straight. have a great day lovelies!

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knifefather · 3 years

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Hello guys! Uploading this chapter of Tutor Me for yall on tumblr! Only one more chapter to go before the story is complete. It’s been so fun to write this and I hope you enjoy this emotional train wreck of a chapter! Don’t worry though, I plan to finish Reader and Diego’s story with a bang, if you know what I mean! Anyway, I bring to you, chapter 5~

➼ Title: Tutor Me, Chapter 5 ➼ Pairing(s): Diego Brando/Reader, Johnny Joestar/Reader, Johnny Joestar/Gyro Zeppeli ➼ Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure ➼ Word Count: 4.3k ➼ Rating: Explicit, 18+ ➼ Contains: Chubby AFAB!Reader, college AU, angst, alcoholism, parental abuse, hurt and comfort. Grab your tissues!

ミ★ View this on ao3! ★彡

ミ★ Ko-Fi | Commissions Info ★彡

Preview

“This wasn’t supposed to happen...” he proclaimed, his tone growing more grave the more that he talked.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, he thought to himself, a crease settling into his brow. You were supposed to be a quick fuck. An experiment. That was all. But now look at where we are...

A soft look passed over his eyes before his expression contorted back to agitation. He angrily wiped the tears from his face and a bit of snot from his nose. When he moved his hand away, his expression was more determined than ever.

“Now get out of my way.”

Diego clasped the buckle on his helmet, straightening his posture and squaring his shoulders, before walking away from you yet again.

You stood behind him, mouth open, unable to even begin to form words. The dirt of the track whipped around you as a breeze passed through the stadium. The dust swirled around Diego as if it parted for him and only him, leading him towards victory.

The brightly lit stadium was packed to the brim with jockeys, paparazzi, and audience members when you arrived. You drew in a deep breath to calm your nerves, causing the thick, hot air to catch in your lungs. The atmosphere was almost oppressive as you made your way towards the admission line. Johnny, Gyro, and Hot Pants were already down on the track, having practiced for several hours before the actual tournament began. You were excited to see your friends but anxious about seeing Diego. Being around him tonight was a certainty that you had to deal with. Your throat grew dry at the realization, and you fleetingly thought about hitting the concession stand after you said hi to your friends.

You waited in line with the other attendees for God knows how long before the worker behind the counter took your ticket, allowing you entry. Quickly, you zipped past the stands and pushed through the crowds, heading down to the track before one of the staff members could stop you. As you made your way across the dirt, Johnny and the crew noticed you approaching and waved you closer. Your face broke out in a large smile as you neared them.

They all looked amazing: Hot Pants was dressed in her signature pink riding outfit and Johnny in his starry blue one. He looked cuter than you wanted to admit, and you adverted your eyes before you could be caught staring. Gyro looked more or less the same, but something about him seemed a bit more put together than usual. He gave you a distrustful look as you approached.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you made it!” Johnny said happily, wheeling over to you. His bright blue lips were tugged in a warm smile that made you forget about your anxiety for a moment.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world,” you replied.

In the distance, you could see the flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras aimed at the racers. There was a group of them nearby, snapping photos of a rider that was posing with their star racehorse. You knew it was a matter of time before the hoard would come to pester Johnny and the rest of the gang with photos and questions. You were correct in your assumptions: After a few moments of chatting amongst yourselves, the paparazzi interrupted your conversation with the crew by tapping Johnny on the shoulder and pushing a camera into his face. The interviewer flashed a too-white smile before looking into a camera that was held by another paparazzi. “And here we have racer number 7, Johnny Joestar! Johnny, tell us a little bit about your horse and hopes for the race,” they finished, whipping the microphone in his direction. His blue eyes went wide for a moment before clearing his throat. “Well…” He answered as swiftly as he could before he was hit with another barrage of questions.

As Johnny was being interviewed, several cameras snapped at Hot Pants, her outfit being praised by the rest of the team. She knew how to pose, too, and struck a different one every few seconds. Meanwhile, you had been more or less been pushed to the side and out of the cameras’ view. You looked at the scene, not envying your friends at all. Strangely enough, you noticed Gyro was standing off to the side as well, a pleased smile on his face. Unsure of how he would respond, you edged closer to him in hopes of making conversation, especially after the strange look he gave you earlier.

“What are you smiling about?” you asked innocuously, raising your voice a bit over the busy sounds of the stadium.

Gyro met your gaze, his expression shifting through a few different emotions before replying to you. “They don’t really like me,” he said.

You cocked a brow. “Why not? You’re a pretty good jockey.”

Gyro’s line of sight shifted from you to a paparazzi that was approaching him, presumably one that was new to the job. “Are you Gyro Zeppeli? Could you tell us a bit about yourself and your horse?” the young man asked, giving him the same treatment as Johnny. His cameraman pointed the filming instrument at Gyro’s face, getting way too close.

“Actually, my name is Inigo Montoya.” Gyro grinned, his gold teeth glinting in the bright lights.

“Oh,” the young paparazzi sputtered. He checked the roster in his pocket again, shaking his head before turning his attention back to him. “Sorry. Inigo. Where are you from? Why are you confident your horse will win the race?” the young man tried again.

“I hail from a land far, far away in the south. Super cold. You’ve probably never heard of it,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I came to Britain to win the championship with my horse, Ligma,” he answered, deepening his voice to sound more important than he was.

“Ligma?” the young man asked, his brow furrowing.

“You know, Ligma. Like--”

Just then, one of the more experienced paparazzi intervened, grabbing the microphone away from Gyro before he could crack his dirty joke. The other paparazzi harshly whispered to the younger one, and they exchanged glances before giving Gyro a distasteful look and walking away. All the while, Gyro was barely containing his laughter, his stomach and chest trembling with the effort. Once they were finally out of earshot, Gyro wouldn't contain himself and erupted into laughter.

You were taken aback by the scene, but you also found it hard to contain your giggles. You waited until the pair had fully adverted their attention from you and Gyro before speaking. “So, was that why they don’t like you?” you asked, still giggling.

“Yep. I always give them bullshit answers. They don’t really care about where you’re from or who you are, you know,” Gyro explained, his tone becoming more somber. “They just want a good show. To be entertained. That’s it.”

The smile had fallen from your face at his explanation. His green eyes scanned over your face before flickering away, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Is that why you’re here? Do you care, or do you want to be entertained?” he asked, still looking away from you.

You were surprised at the boldness of his question. “Of course, I care. I want to see you guys do well--”

“Even Johnny?”

You furrowed your brow at this. His eyes met yours, his gaze accusatory as he looked you over. “What does that mean? Are you implying that I don’t care about him?” you shot back, your tone growing more defensive with every word. Gyro had always been aloof around you, but never like this. You wracked your brain trying to figure out the reason.

Gyro ignored your response. “You should get back to the stands. The race is gonna start soon, and the coaches aren’t going to be happy that you’re down here.” He fixed his hat while he spoke, the brim coming down to cast a shadow over his face.

Then it hit you as if the thought were a speeding train. Gyro... liked Johnny.

The cogs in your head were whirring a mile a minute, piecing together all of the times that he was unusually protective of Johnny. You thought back to the soft way that he looked at Johnny during riding practice, or the way Gyro ignored you after Johnny had flirted with you. You were going to argue the point, but he was right. The staff members that had initially spied you were now giving you harsh glances, some pointing now. At this point, the paparazzi had released Hot Pants and Johnny from being their hostages and were retreating to other parts of the stadium. You wished all of them good luck before making your way towards the stands, leaving them behind. Gyro’s words still rang in your ears, making your already complicated emotions about the event even more complicated.

You were still quite a bit away from the stands, but you could see Diego entering the stadium as clear as day. The swarm of paparazzi that obscured your view was a good indicator. From the looks of it, he was just arriving. It’s just like him to be fashionably late, you thought to yourself, making a sour face. Cameras began to flash again and interviewers animatedly asked him questions, trying to fit everything in before the tournament began.

“I’m going to come in first place. Just watch me,” you heard him boldly claim, quite loudly at that. This seemed to please the crowd of interviewers, because the volume of their voices increased as they wrapped up the interview. With only minutes before the jockeys had to take their places, the paparazzi finally dispersed. You were much closer now, able to see Diego clearly. His turquoise outfit was as pristine as ever, every detail carefully planned out. The letters on his equestrian helmet shined when he turned his head.

Before he was able to notice you approaching, a short, fat man hobbled out from the stands and down to the track. Diego’s big, showy smile disappeared and was replaced with a solemn look once he laid eyes on him. He froze in his spot. The man was clearly drunk, his hair unkempt and his clothes disheveled. The look of surprise on Diego’s face graduated to boiling anger, his mouth contorting into a sneer. You couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but you knew how his face looked when he was saying something aggressive. The old man responded with twice as much venom, yelling and shaking his fist at the rider. Diego shrunk under his words, but hatred still twisted his face.

Now, you were curious. You stopped just out of earshot from the scene, only close enough to hear the exchange of words.

“God damn it, I’m your father, Diego! A son does what his father tells him to!” the man slurred. Diego cringed, the alcohol on his father’s breath almost too much for him to handle.

“You’re no father of mine. Fuck off, Dario,” he spat.

This pissed off the old man, because he began to howl in rage at his son. “You’re a fucking disgrace, Diego! You’ve always been a disappointment to me and the rest of the family...It’s a damn shame that you don’t give every pound to help your dying mother in the hospital. A real damn shame,” the man--Dario--rambled, parts of his sentence nearly unintelligible from the slurring.

Though, Diego understood every word. The jockey snapped, his fist shooting out and curling into the man’s shirt. He shook the old man, his lips pulled back in a snarl, teeth bared like an animal. “Don’t you FUCKING dare say that! I send everything I have to support her, and you spend it on BOOZE! If there’s anyone here who is a disgrace, it’s you!” Diego shouted, pushing the man away before the violence could escalate any further.

Your mouth was gaping at the scene, unable to believe that the foul-mouthed drunkard was Diego’s father. He was the complete opposite of his son physically, bearing little to no resemblance to him. You couldn’t imagine his dull grey hair being the same shade as Diego’s blond locks. Though, they both had the same burning look of passion behind their eyes. Nonetheless, you continued to listen in.

“It’s no surprise that I smell booze on your breath. Like always,” Diego growled, his voice much calmer now. His blazing anger had turned cold, his words mechanical in quality.

“You’re a horrible child. A worthless waste of space. Win that money and bring it home to me, or you’ll never see your mum again. You hear me?” Dario said, waving a finger in the jockey’s face. Diego bit his lower lip, looking at the ground defeatedly before nodding his head yes. All of the fight left him, his frame deflating significantly. He understood the implications of his father’s words: The little money that Dario did use to help his mother would stop altogether. And then, she would be gone.

“Good. And after this is over, be useful and bring me a pint,” the old man said, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand before hobbling back off towards the stands.

You were completely at a loss. You blinked slowly, unable to believe the horrible sight that you witnessed. Diego was still staring at the ground, the fist that was once in his father’s shirt now clenched at his side. He was still biting his lip, hard, a small trickle of blood flowing down his chin. You felt horrible that he was clearly being abused by his father, but you were on a mission: You had to get to the bottom of why he was mistreating you, why he had ghosted you and threw you to the side like nothing. You had a sneaking suspicion that the treatment from his father was a part of the reason, but you had to know for sure. You decided to be the bigger person and put your thoughts of confrontation on pause. It could wait until after the race.

You approached him uneasily, taking light steps on the dirt like if you stepped too hard, he’d be disturbed. As you approached him, his eyes slowly rose from the ground and met your form. You were wearing a crop top and high-waisted shorts, along with matching shoes. You were beautiful, glowing, so much more confident than the first time he saw you. You proudly allowed your belly to show with your shirt, and the shorts showed off your legs and hugged the curves of your hips perfectly. It was faint, but a bit of makeup dusted your cheeks and kissed your lashes. You were the same, but different somehow. Something had changed in you along the way. If Diego weren’t devastated, he would be enamored by you. Part of him was, despite his pain.

When your gazes locked, you saw a look that you had never seen on Diego before. His eyes were those of a completely broken, desperate person. You had heard enough to know his secrets, and the both of you knew this while you stared silently at each other.

You flub, not sure what to say for a moment. “I… I had no idea,” you said, your voice small and full of hurt.

“I know.” Diego’s jaw was clenched. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so vulnerable and weak. His first instinct was to hide, to get away from you. Your empathetic gaze made feelings rise in him that he didn’t want to be feeling.

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with that…” you said, feeling stuck. “Is that the reason why you wanted to stay away? What your dad said about your mom?” you asked softly, as if you were comforting a child.

The gentle, caring look in your eyes only frustrated Diego further. He looked away, blinking hard and trying to restrain his emotion. He already made the mistake of arguing with Dario in public, which the paparazzi more than certainly saw him do. He wasn’t going to get emotional and have another scene with you, not when he had a race to win and a mother to save. Diego opted for silence, not giving a response and just looking away.

You sighed sadly before taking a step toward him, your hand outstretched. “Please. I need to know. You don’t have to tell me now, but I want to talk about this,” you tried, setting your hand on his shoulder. He promptly shrugged you off with an exasperated noise.

“I don’t want them to see,” Diego said, already turning on his heel and walking away from you. Your feet were moving before you had time to think about it, making you follow him across the dirt.

“That’s fine. But at least tell me after the race,” you implored, your tone growing more desperate. You swallowed, hard, and tried to get yourself together.

He was quiet again, worrying his lip between his teeth as he struggled to hold back all of the things he wanted to say. Diego tried to keep his eye on the ball, focusing on an image of him holding a 10,000 pound sterling check in his hand. Except, the image grew fuzzy in his mind’s eye, and he saw you instead. Your smile. Your eyes. You, choking on cigarette smoke. You, in the back of his car, blushing and looking at him like the most important person in the world.

You sped up, jogging next to his side. He walked faster, leaving you in the dust.

“Why? Why do you keep walking away from me? Every time? You always deflect and you never want to talk about anything. It’s not healthy, Diego,” you said, your voice breaking. “I’ll leave you alone forever if that’s what you want. If you want to talk about this later, just tell me. Communicate with me, please.”

This got Diego’s attention, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Diego, what’s going on? What are we?” you tried one more time before giving up for good. You were well aware that you were crossing the line, but you needed something. Your hand went to his arm, your thumb gently caressing him.

You didn’t expect the furious expression on his face when he whipped around to look at you. Surprised, you took a step back from him, watching his hands curl around nothing at his sides.

“I don’t know!” Diego yelled, ripping his sleeve from your grasp. His eyes were smoldering with anger and fear in their basest forms. He sniffled a bit at the end of his sentence.

You stopped in your tracks, frozen by disbelief. Tears were now freely flowing down Diego’s cheeks, hot and wet and dripping onto the dirt below his feet. “You saw Dario. What an absolutely disgusting, no-good, drunk fucking swine he is,” he said through gritted teeth. “What’s what I deal with. That’s what my mother deals with. He doesn’t love her, doesn’t care if she dies young. That’s why I have to win this race. I have to have that money in my pocket; failure isn’t an option. I don’t know what we are. This wasn’t supposed to happen...” he proclaimed, his tone growing more grave the more that he talked.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, he thought to himself, a crease settling into his brow. You were supposed to be a quick fuck. An experiment. That was all. But now look at where we are...

“Now get out of my way.”

Diego clasped the buckle on his helmet, straightening his posture and squaring his shoulders, before walking away from you yet again.

Where you thought you would feel disappointment, you felt numb. You didn’t know what exactly to feel. You turned around and walked towards the stands, the scene below catching the attention of a few audience members. They looked at you curiously as you made your way towards your seat, but you paid no mind to them. Something in your gut told you that this wasn’t over. And, despite everything, you knew who you would be cheering for once the tournament began.

★・・・・・・★

The thundering of hooves on the dirt and the roar of the crowd reverberated in your ears. You watched as the riders were approaching the last lap, many of them bracing themselves for one last push of speed. Many of the jockeys who started in first place had sunk to the back, and others who had restrained themselves were rising to the occasion. Such was the case for your friends and Diego.

Gyro was currently sitting in 5th place, Hot Pants in 4th, Johnny in 2nd, and, surprisingly, Diego in 6th. You nervously watched as Diego bided his time in the back. A shadow was cast over his face from his helmet, and you and the onlookers alike struggled to read his expression. The announcer was going crazy with play-by-plays, calling out so quickly that the words lost their meaning to you. You wanted your friends to win, but you couldn’t help but cheer for Diego on the inside.

Johnny’s horse was speeding ahead of the contender in first place, the red-headed woman yelling a profanity at him and shooting him a dirty look. She maneuvered her horse to the side, trying to throw him off balance, but Johnny was quick. He swerved, avoiding the collision, and zipped past her into first place.

“Johnny Joestar has taken the lead! Can he keep this up? Do we have the winner?!” the announcer boomed, riling up the crowd. They all clapped and shouted, the sounds making your head buzz. The smell of alcohol was also heavy in the air and it didn’t help the knot that settled in your stomach. You hoped that Dario wasn't sitting nearby.

What are you doing, Diego? You thought to yourself, making a “tsk” sound under your breath.

Hot Pants surprised you next, overtaking the 3rd place racer and claiming their place. There were only a few meters left, and you began to sweat as the end of the race approached.

Suddenly, you heard a gasp from the audience. You flicked your eyes over to the back riders and saw what the audience had seen. Diego was jetting past the other racers, taking 5th, 4th, and 3rd like nothing. You found yourself scooting to the edge of your seat, your hands gripping the edge of the stands hard enough to make your palms white.

Diego was steady for a moment, riding next to Hot Pants, almost as if he was taunting her. Down on the track, he flashed her a cocky grin before snatching 2nd place away from her. Now, he was right behind Johnny, the two riders only a few feet away from each other. The announcer was hollering his head off, but silence settled over your ears. You watched them, side by side, sweat flying off of the both of them.

Johnny looked to his side, his brow furrowed, his upper lip curled in concentration. Diego’s eyes flashed as they locked gazes, a thousand words being exchanged from one intense look. Johnny pressed on, encouraging Slow Dancer to give everything that she had. Diego’s own horse still had a bit left in her, and, with an expert maneuver from her rider, Diego cut perfectly in front of Johnny, making Slow Dancer falter.

You gasped, you hands gripping the metal edge of the stands even harder. For a split second, Johnny’s horse lost her balance, stumbling, but he pulled hard on her reigns and recentered her. By then, it was too late, and Diego was several paces ahead of him, the finish line within his reach. Your heart raced as you watched him, you jumped to your feet and leaned in as close as you could, unable to look away.

“AND THERE HE GOES!” the announcer howled, the entire stadium screaming at the top of their lungs. The moment that Silver Bullet crossed the finish line happened almost in slow-motion. You could see the exact moment that her hoof touched the dirt right over the line, how the beast’s muscles ripped under her hide as she carried them both to victory. Diego was almost standing, braced so forwardly that he almost flew off the horse when they passed the finish line. You could feel the breeze ruffling your hair as he jetted past you.

And just like that, it was all over. Johnny wasn’t far behind him, and neither were Hot Pants and Gyro. Your heart was beating at a million miles a minute, and you couldn’t help but break into a huge smile and join the crowd in their cheering. You cheered until your throat grew hoarse and scratchy, until you couldn’t produce sound any longer.

Diego’s face was broken out in a toothy smile as his horse slowed. “We have our winner! Give it up for Diego Brando!” Everyone did accordingly, many whooping and hollerings taking place. Cheers still sounded off for the rest of the participants, and even though they were dejected, many were still happy to have made it in the top ten. Diego did a victory lap around the stadium, cameras going off like crazy and admirers reaching over the barrier for a chance to be close to the celebrity. He waved, a grin still dancing on his lips while he rode the high of being the winner. You could see from your seat the rise and fall of his chest as he drew in ragged breaths, trying to calm himself down from the excitement.

Slowly, you sat down, your hands stilling from the abundance of clapping. Even as you sat, you were still beaming uncontrollably. You couldn’t help but feel proud of him, to be happy for him at this moment, even though you knew that the happiness was only temporary.

#diego brando x reader #johnny joestar x gyro zeppeli #tutor me #jjba #not sfw #my work #chubby reader #cw alcoholism #hurt and comfort

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cutegirlmayra · 4 years

Note

I know you did a prompt a while ago about Amy having a fan and Sonic told him to basically get lost. So could you do something like that but make the guy feel more entitled to Amy and she owes him her love. And when she rejects him he gets really aggressive so it justifies Sonic being more aggressive in turn? I love how your depict protective Sonic soooo cute!

So, I have MANY jealous and protective Sonamy stories XD Shifting through them, I think you meant this one? (x) For future reference, if any of you lovely Anons want to maybe just... link?... the actual prompt I would be very much appreciative since I have over 900+ lol

(Preview prompt image provided by ArtsyAnnieRose (x) Please support the artist :)b)

As I mentioned when reviewing this Prompt on my youtube --> Pajama Blogs Ep. 1 Prompt Requests (x) Timecode: - 54:21 - I try and not do the same prompt twice, which means I like to rewrite things so that I don’t just keep making the same stories for different requests. So with this one, I’ve thought a lot about how to present it, and I think this will be fun! (Also, side note: I’m not making this cute and parody-like, I’ve changed my mind XD I have the right to do that! lol)

***TRIGGER WARNING***: (now you know it’s gonna get good.) I have subtly littered red flags throughout this story, if you have experienced stalking or manipulation strategies in your life please be aware they will be showing up in this fic. Due to the subtle nature of these traits, please be informed that I am in no way trying to downplay the danger of these situations, but showing that to the main character currently in these situations, her view of them is naïve and she sees no danger. Therefore, the gravity of the situation seems friendly and kind, but in no form am I saying these techniques are alright or acceptable. The ‘stranger’ character in this story is a creep, no matter how ‘charming’ or ‘sweet’ he may be portrayed in the innocent main character’s view. (If I write this correctly, hopefully, that message will be more clearer towards the end of the story.) I encourage any who recognize these toxic behaviors to please question your relationship with that individual and find safe, healthy relationships to pursue/keep instead. Whether your relationship with these kinds of people are platonic, friendship, or romantic in nature--please keep yourselves, families, friends, and other such loved ones safe. I will not be listing or detailing all occurrences of these moments within the story; however, with some psychology basics or google searching, you can find these common red flags or complexed manipulation strategies and how to better identify them.

Prompts are on shutdown! Do not send in any prompt requests at this time. Thank you!

Okay... let’s dive right in.

DIVE, DIVE, DIVE.

Note: This is another unconventional, more mature-themed story that I- well...

But my hope is that it’s still a story worth telling, so if you choose to, please enjoy.

Prompt:

Upon a rather dark and greying sky, as though the mentions of brief rainfall and storm weren’t apparent, many citizens in this bustling city were making their usual rounds around the mall. Carrying a thin jacket with an umbrella’s strap swinging at her side, Amy light-heartedly mused over a recent magazine’s article on the most eligible men, and read the chatty writer’s remarks on how Sonic The Hedgehog seemed to be away when the interviews for them were called.

She thought that so like Sonic, always away, but secretly just close enough to still keep tabs on what’s going on with the many locations in the world.

Eggman seemed to have a base everywhere, and while things had been pretty quiet as of late, she looked up from her magazine and once again wondered where in the wide, blue world he could be.

Was he bored? Off on another adventure? ... Napping? Eating? Was he eating enough?

She sighed with a dreamy look on her face, lost in her thoughts before a stranger flicked his wrist as he approached her, and a charging wind blasted in her direction. Blowing her back, it swiftly hit against her loosely closed umbrella, since Amy wanted to be prepared for any sudden downpour, and triggered it’s spring to further yank her back.

“Ah!” Amy tried to turn around to catch herself, the strap around her wrist forcing the sudden about-face as she grabbed her umbrella’s long steel pole to try and counter the pull.

“Woah!” the stranger that was passing her from the front suddenly stumbled at the sight and quickly rushed behind her, leaning over and grabbing where her hand was on the open umbrella as the wind suddenly stopped. His hand lingered by her side as though to brace with her and help, before noticing the wind stop and looking dumbfounded at the umbrella.

There was a silence as Amy felt the stranger was almost holding her, and turned to him with blinks, “Heh-heh... umm... Thank you.” her body was bent as she tried to use her heels against the pavement to counter-force the sudden rush of heavy wind, but with it’s immediate halt, she stepped forward and away from the strange, intimate moment to close her umbrella.

He stood more straighter, fixing himself up too before smiling kindly to her, “Does this happen to you often? Sudden, emmmm...” He swirled his palm-facing upwards hands around as he held the long, hummed note. “Bursts of photo-aesthetic air through your hair?”

Amy chuckled lightly, briefly looking back at him before continuing to fix her umbrella, worried it may be broken as the spring wasn’t going down well enough. Realizing it was probably jammed, she blew up some air to her bangs, figuring the worst, “Yeah, real convenient for a photoshoot. Maybe the photographer will settle for a water effect?” she gestured humorously up to the clouds, “All I need is a chair,” she teased, “Thanks again for the help. Really! You came out of nowhere!”

“Much like wind.” He joked back, putting his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to her. “You... wouldn’t mind if I take in the view of that shot, would you?”

“Huh?” she didn’t quite understand what he was making reference to.

He smiled as if realizing she didn’t get it and shook his head, “Nothing, nevermind. I’m clearly wasting your time,” he took out his own umbrella, looked at her a moment, then back to it. His long, brown and heavy jacket then flopped back to his side as he offered her it, “No offense, but I did just meet you. I would offer you my umbrella, but I’m worried I may never see it again. However, I have a solution,” He opened the umbrella and then gestured his hand to a restaurant near him. “So that we’re not strangers anymore, and I can trust you with something so dearly precious to me as an old, fifty cent umbrella I literally picked up from a second-hand store... might I entreat you to a meal?”

Amy smiled, relieved he was being so gentlemanly. “I wouldn’t mind at all!” she cheerily perked up, looking at her umbrella and tossing it in a garbage can. “I’m Amy,” She took his hand, curtseying. “Amy Rose.”

She did notice he was probably older than her, but he did a little bow and she realized she hadn’t notice his real height until his eyes matched her level. He held his eyes with her sights... and she wondered why he was pausing so long, “I know...” He finally whispered out, tilting his umbrella over her head, “You’re pretty famous, you know. Anyone would be lucky to help you out in a pinch. I’m Oscar, I work around here.”

Guiding her into the outdoor restaurant, he sat her at one of the white tables with it’s own umbrella on it and closed his, settling down on the opposite side of her. “Well, then! Do you mind this spot?”

“Oh, it’s my favorite, actually!” Amy chimed, knowing the location very well.

“Really?” He seemed a little less intrigued at that than Amy would have normally supposed someone would, but then after putting his umbrella away, leaned forward as though very attentive and putting his fingers together, his elbows on the wooden round table of white and letting his nose press down against his hands. He had gotten comfortable, and Amy, thinking this was his way of showing interest in what she meant, continued to sweetly respond.

“This is so funny, but I come here almost every Thursday and Friday for the new deals at my favorite store! I usually order the same thing too,... I really love ice cream.” Amy felt a strange new energy at meeting someone for the first time, and continued to feel refresh at this new-found friendship.

“Ice cream? No way! That’s my favorite too!” Oscar parted his fingers as though excited to hear this. “I have a sweet tooth. I know, I know, so silly of a man like me.”

“Oh, no! Not at all!” Amy waved her hands out, “What’s your favorite kind?”

“Well,...” He thought a moment, before smiling back to her and holding a wink, “I have an idea, you tell me yours first. I bet it’s probably very different.”

“I’m a simple girl, Vanilla is mostly my cup of tea. But... whenever I’m feeling adventurous, I go for it! Scoops of Vanilla and Chocolate with some random new flavor of mint or cookie flavored and then I top it with all sorts of stuff!”

He coughed as though shocked, “...That’s literally my favorite too!”

“What!?” Amy was excited to hear this, “I thought I was the only one that eccentric!”

“I know! That’s why I thought your answer would be completely different!” As Oscar continued to review Amy’s interests, he kept nodding along and reaffirming that they shared many similar interest and hobbies before the waiter appeared. “I love to chase certain thrills and excitements. I’m sure, being an adventurer, I figured that may be the reason why you place yourself in such perilous circumstances as well.”

“Your orders, lady? Sir?” The waiter asked, trying to kindly cut in as Oscar pulled out his wallet.

“Strawberry sunday with a hint of vanilla, you?” he looked back to her.

“Ha! That’s my Thursday order!” she giggled into her hand, “Same here, please!”

He shook his head, a little theatrically, “It’s almost like... where have you been all my life?”

“I mean, I know, right!? And you work around here! That’s so weird that I’ve never seen you before... where-”

“Ah, there’s really nothing interesting about me. I’m much more fascinated in the adventures you take. What with your friends always weighing you down and everything.” He basically ignored the waiter as he tried to ask any follow-up questions, and Amy just looked between the two and then smiled politely to the waiter, showing that that was all they were going to have.

“Weighing me down..? Oh no, without Sonic and the others, I couldn’t do anything as big as saving the world! We all need each other, you know?” She happily confirmed before he spoke again, sighing.

“I guess they would have you think that way, huh?” a offhanded comment that made Amy’s eyebrows furrow, but she just continued to speak about the wonderful traits and abilities of her friends, in which case, he kept shaking his head as though she was wrong.

“What?” She finally asked, “You don’t seem to like Sonic, Tails, or Knuckles...”

“I just think you could do with some different friends.” He shrugged, “Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.” In that moment, the waiter came back to place down their orders.

“U-undergrade..?” She looked down a moment, “N-no, no one’s holding me back or anything. I choose how I help out, I can’t always keep up with Sonic and the others so-” she stopped a second and shook her head, getting frustrated, “I-I mean, I can go with them whenever I want!” she retorted, and noticing her shift in demeanor, he took some ice cream and then held out his hand.

“Oh no, no, no. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t keep up. I meant that you’re invaluable and they don’t treat you as such. But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’ll show you how a true heroine should be treated. This meal is on me.” he gestured to her ice cream, “After this, I’ll show you some places that you probably haven’t been to before.”

“O-oh... T-That does sounds exciting!”

For a few weeks after that, Amy began to hang out with Oscar frequently. They would text back and forth, and she couldn’t help but smile when he always called her beautiful and made her feel so special. However, although the places they first went to weren’t so bad... he started showing her back alleyways with clubs and other ‘themed’ places that made her slightly uneasy.

She knew he was older than her, but would decline any invitation if he stated, “But I know a guy, he’ll let you in.” and continued to protest and remind him of her age.

That being said, the parks were lovely though!

He would often bring her little gifts and flowers too, stating that the next time she came with him, he’d bring some home-made food and had a habit of patting her head or brushing something off her hair if it landed on her. Though, Amy never noticed the ‘leaf’ that had fallen on her shoulder, or the ‘bug’ that was buzzing around her headband.

He also would usually lead her when they walked and talked, if they came to a corner, he would lightly put his hand to her back, until one time she mentioned his hand went just slightly lower than normal and he apologized profusely.

All was going very well, he even carried her bags and offered to take them home with her, but she insisted she would take the train and that he needn’t worry.

Finally, on a Friday when she was heading down for her sale, texting Oscar, a familiar wind picked up and almost brought up her dress.

“Oh, look out!” Oscar appeared and grabbed her dress, pushing it down. “Phew! Close one, aye?”

“W-where did you come from?” Amy adjusted her dress as he held his hands to the rim of her dress still, but when she looked up at him, he immediately released them.

“I suppose I just naturally come when you need me.” he scratched the back of his head, looking away as though shy. “I don’t know... sometimes, I can’t sit still, I get this feeling like you need me, and lo and behold!” He gestured to her, “You really do need someone looking after you twenty-four seven, huh?” he squatted down to look up at her, then his face turned to concern. “It’s a shame you don’t have anyone to look after you... especially in moments like this.”

“W-what are you talking about? I have Sonic!” Amy placed her Miles-Electric away and gestured for him to stand upright, but instead, he took her hands and placed them on his cheeks, acting cute but a lot younger than he actually was.

“But he didn’t save you, I did~” he whined, squishing her hands to his cheeks and rotating them around as she thought him slightly weird and took them away, pushing him back as he stumbled. “H-hey!”

“Oh, you! Sonic is just the same way! He can’t sit still when he senses someone needs him... hey, that reminds me of my article...” Amy remembered the magazine she was subscribed too, and looked over to see that within his usual trench coat, was a page of that article sticking out. “Ah!” She pointed to it, amazed, “You read ‘Famous Quips’ too!?!”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he seemed to speak quickly, before shoving the magazine back in deeper. “Ehem, kinda a girlie magazine... promise not to tell anyone? I don’t wanna lose my street-cred!”

She laughed, “You are like Sonic! Always acting so cool...” she shook her head and took his arm, what she had started doing since he offered it so many times, and they walked down the street.

He bought anything her eye rested on, which made her beg him to at least let her pay for food, as he mentioned a concert happening at the club he kept trying to get her to go to.

“Come on, you’ll love this band! We adore the same music too! I know a perfect spot in the back where no one will see us and the bouncer is my friend!” his voice was enthusiastic, nudging her every now and then with his elbow as she looked away and rolled her eyes. “You’re not a babe anymore, Amy! You’re gonna end up going to clubs eventually, might as well be with someone you know, right?”

“I don’t know...” Amy looked down,... and he gently stopped walking to look away from her.

“...Do you not trust me?”

“W-what?” Amy let go of his arm, “What do you mean? Of course I do!” she was very hurt by his accusation, “I mean, we’ve hung out so much, I just don’t really think clubbing is my thing...”

“You never want to do what I suggest.” He looked down, “I go to your favorite store with you and help you bargain hunt, I take you around the park... I’m just saying, the one time I want to go and do something, you keep saying no.” he folded his arms, and Amy began to panic that he was really offended by her.

“T-that’s not true, Oscar! I...” she looked away a moment, and he looked back at her.

“...Ah, I can’t stay mad at you.” He pulled her into a hug, holding her there. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, hey, let’s go get ice cream and talk about it later, okay? I’ll pay again.”

Her eyes shifted about, not sure what that was all about. “N-no, I’ll pay.” she tried to move away but kept an arm around her and led her on.

“I wouldn’t be considered a man if I let the woman pay!” he insisted, and ended up paying for the meal.

As it got late, he offered to carry her bags home again, and whined in a goofy way when she kept saying it was too late to have guests over, but maybe sometime.

“If you won’t see the concert with me, at least take me to your place sometime. It’s the least you could do for me.” He gave her the bags, then stroked her hair again, “You really shouldn’t be taking the train at night, you never know what sicko might be on it. You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.” he laughed, but that stung Amy’s pride a bit.

She held her bags and looked away a moment, “...Is that... how I come off to people?”

“Oh sure!” he then continued to stroke her head, “...You ... didn’t notice?”

“...That I look weak?” Amy shook her head and he instinctively removed his hand.

He held it in the air a moment, before letting it rest on Amy’s head again, as though realizing she wasn’t doing that to make him stop.

“No... the part where I... gave you a new nickname.” He smiled, tenderly and squatted down to her level again, keeping his hand on her head. “Amy dear. I think it’s cute!”

“...O-oh, I mean, I don’t really like how it could appear though.” Amy had a bead of sweat form and he abruptly got up, looking upset.

“Don’t like how it could appear!? What does that mean!?” He snapped.

She flinched at his sudden uproar, as he grabbed a bag from her, “I’ve been wanting to introduce the nickname to you all day! And that’s how you think about it!?” he looked as though he was going to either smash or rip the bag, but just looked furiously away from her, “I thought about it a lot, you know! It was suppose to mean something!”

Amy grew slightly afraid, but not taking this sudden mood-swing again, she opened her mouth to say something.

He interjected and looked dead in her face, “You really don’t trust me, do you, Amy?”

Thinking she didn’t want to hurt him, she shook her head, “I-I never said that!”

“Don’t yell at me,” he looked downhearted suddenly, even though she wasn’t raising her voice that much, not like he was.

“I’m not-”

“You are, and it’s really making me feel like you’re just... you don’t consider me a friend. I told you people usually reject me,... I was vulnerable to you!”

“Oscar, calm down a moment and-”

“You’re the one who’s not ‘calming down’ you can’t do a single thing I want to do! You’re being... selfish!” he flopped the bag down in front of her, startling her as he took off stomps and a hissy-fit.

Not able to process that sudden shift in behavior, Amy was lost to her thoughts and... slowly... proceeded to get the bag and head to the train station.

Numerous texts came flooding in that week as she hadn’t gone back to the plaza and mall, and she kept wondering how he knew she wasn’t there. They had hung out multiple times, maybe he was just expecting another hang out without actually asking this time...

Still, she felt somewhat obliged to text back: Sorry, I’ll see you Friday. This Thursday, I just felt sick.

Oscar: Do you need anything? Send me your address, I’ll bring you medicine and make you some food! I really am sorry if I scared you, I shouldn’t have done that. You’re beautiful and I’m just insecure. You know how I can be, just like you, I get really attached to people and just want to be accepted. I’m really sorry, please don’t not see me again! I promise I’ll get myself under control, we’ll do whatever you want to do this time! Honest!

Amy didn’t text back...

Oscar: The concert is next Friday, I won’t mention it again but... it would be really awesome if we could see Pop Pinkies together... I know it’s my favorite band and our favorite music is what they play so... just think about it at least, alright?

That Friday, Amy was wearing something that made her almost blend in with the crowd. Unlike her usual bubbly skip in the streets, she was hiding beneath her umbrella and coat, as though not wanting to be spotted.

A sudden burst of wind and she panicked, darting behind a corner and putting her umbrella away. “Dumb wind.” she mumbled, looking around to make sure Oscar wasn’t there...

The wind suddenly shifted as she poked her head out, “That’s odd, wind doesn’t usually change direction unless...” she turned and gasped as she saw Sonic, leaning his head towards her and looking confused.

“...Since when did you start taking the back-alley ways? Don’t you know that’s dangerous, Amy?” He blinked, furrowing his brow as he straightened up and folded his arms, “Heh, long time no-”

Amy’s mind was suddenly triggered by something Oscar had said, and she tuned out Sonic completely, her world going dark...

“I just think you could do with some different friends. Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.”

“You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

“Is that... really how I appear to you?” Amy’s voice quaked as she spoke it, “Do I really look weak... even to you?”

Sonic was taken aback by the tears forming in her eyes, and immediately dropped the friendly banter, “Amy? What’s wrong? Weak?” he didn’t know where she got that notion from. “N-no, I-... Amy, is something wrong?” he moved forward to reach for her but pulled away, something Amy wasn’t used to as she really did--for a brief moment--think he was going to place his hand on her head.

Almost as if expecting that, she leaned her head in a strange way and then back, not sure why she did that.

He didn’t notice the action though, but she hugged herself, also remembering that after the light head pats was usually a strong and forceful embrace...

“...Amy?” she hadn’t responded to him, and now, Sonic was noticing a very clear change in Amy.

“N-no, of course you wouldn’t think that... I’m sorry, I really don’t... I don’t want to be around people right now.” she looked away, “I... I made someone feel really bad and I don’t know what to do.”

“Really? What did you do?” Sonic lifted his hand and she immediately looked at it, which made him pause. “...Umm... I was just gesturing... Amy...” His ears bent back, not sure why she looked so squarely at his hand. “Is everything okay?”

She really thought he was offering her hand, but she didn’t want to take it... not this time.

“I made a new friend, and he’s mad at me. I’m worried... if I hurt him again, he’ll really be in a bad emotional state, and it’ll be all my fault.” Amy put her umbrella up and started to walk away from Sonic, “I want to take a new route, I didn’t even want to come out today...”

“...Amy, you don’t control this new friend’s behavior, they do.” Sonic corrected her and walked beside her, focusing heavily on the signs of uncomfortability Amy was showing. “...What happened with this ‘new friend’ of yours?” He directly asked, and Amy relayed to him how she met him, then how he liked all the things she liked and agreed with everything in the beginning, how charming he was before the more time she spent with him, he seemed to change and start acting funny... but not in the good way.

“...He likes everything you like?” Sonic lowered his head a little, honing in on some things Amy briefly mentioned.

“Yeah, isn’t that crazy? He’s a guy but he totally loves sweet things and a popular girl’s magazine I enjoy.” Amy smiled, closing her eyes as though cheering up when thinking about it.

“...And he knew your order before you even made it?” Sonic folded his arms, putting two and two together.

“Yeah...” Amy suddenly slowed down in her steps, her eyes widening.

Sonic closed his eyes, matching her speed as he began to help her focus on the more important parts of her story, “And this... strange wind that passes by here... only comes at you and blows your dress up or opens your umbrella?”

She stopped.

He continued to walk, “And you say he works around here... which means he may have seen you come and go multiple times... and probably watched you ordered and heard what you liked, and saw what you read, and knew about you from the news and press... he disliked your friends and took you places and then entitled himself to being in charge over your Thursday and Friday venues... then, to really top it all off with the icing on the cake and all that jazz... he’s been insisting you go to a adult-themed club with him and throws a tissy-fit when you say no?”

Sonic stopped, his fists had already tightened into such hard balls of fury that he had to take silent deep breaths just to contain himself.

“And worst of all... he’s tried to copy me and put it in your mind that your friends don’t respect you the way we should... isolating you,” He put out a finger, “Grooming and manipulating you... Amy, you should have written this guy the moment he snapped at you... and probably sooner, but I’ll take that as you were just seeing the best sides of him... and not the dirty kind.” he didn’t turn around, but he felt Amy lingering behind him and knew if he said anymore, she may just start crying. “...Where do you think this creep is now?”

“He... He’s not a creep.” Amy lied, feeling in her heart that she just did lie, for Oscar’s sake...

Sonic tsk’ed and turned around, “How can you stand there and defend him!? Do you even know what Grooming is!?”

“...I... I don’t.” she wiped her eyes, “I don’t think I know anything...”

The manipulation had really set in on Amy, she was denying something she knew was true and didn’t know why. She was defending a man who clearly was up to no good, and yet... she cared about him still.

“Sonic... I think... I think I’m sick.” she held her stomach, the realization setting in. “You don’t think... he wanted me to take him to my house to..?”

“He wanted to what!?” Sonic lunged forward, holding his fists back and to his sides as he tried to remain level-headed, pulling away from her. “Amy, you know the truth now, it’s time to end this... ‘friendship’ you two have.”

Amy fell to her knees, “That’ll kill him!”

Sonic immediately looked behind him, Amy almost begging him not to make her do it as Sonic couldn’t stand to see her this broken and twisted up from Oscar’s scheming.

“Amy...” he wanted to say so many things..! But instead, just turned around and held a strong look, “You have to face this... but you won’t be alone.” He offered her his hand, “I won’t leave your side, and I’ll be there the whole way through. You deserve to go out and have fun without someone telling you that it can only be ‘their’ way of fun.” He looked so serious... but she felt a peace wash over her at how she knew his words were never lies or deceits for something devious. His words were for her and her well-being... not once did Sonic ever yell or enforce his way about things at all. He listened to her, even though she knew he must be raging inside at his friend’s predicament... it’s not like she purposefully got herself into this mess.

“You know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

She placed her hands up against her eyes, crying. “Am I... being a burden to my friends, Sonic?”

He immediately scooped her up into a bridal-style hold, “Which store did you want to visit today, Amy? Or do you want to just go home?”

“Please, I want to go home.” Amy held onto him as without a second word, he zoomed off.

The next few days, Sonic instructed that Amy block the number, but text messages seemed to not be the only thing Oscar knew... He called her home number, which surprised both of them, and the phone never stopped ringing.

That next Thursday, Sonic accompanied Amy everywhere she went, and they didn’t spot Oscar anywhere. But come that Friday...

Sonic was carrying some of Amy’s bags, she didn’t look fully recovered from anything, but at least she was wearing brighter colors in her coat she wore that day, and a nice sun hat as Sonic held the umbrella up for her.

He looked a little bored, but kept his eyes peeled when a sudden wind shoved him to the pavement.

“Ah! Sonic!” Amy turned around but was immediately grabbed around the waist, pulled back. “Gah!”

“I can’t believe you let him back into your life!!!”

Amy’s ears rang with Oscar’s voice, before shoving him back and falling down beside Sonic, who quickly shook off the wind blast and spun around to pick up Amy’s things, placing the bags by the store’s window.

“So, this is the wind-manipulator, eh?” Sonic rotated his shoulder out, having landed on it pretty roughly, “Look, I don’t know anything about you, and neither does Amy, really! So either get the hint and quit bothering Amy, or I’ll have to take matters into my own hands!” he hunkered down, getting ready for a fight, but... he also seemed not to be putting on airs or a show.

Sonic... although smiling a bit as he spoke to him, suddenly took a darker and more focused attention on how Oscar was holding himself.

Oscar looked to Amy, not even talking to Sonic, “I told you everything about me... What does that lying Sonic know about you!? I’m the one that’s been with you this whole time while he’s been off, probably with some other girl!”

Amy thought that ridiculous, and seeing him in a new light, she was able to at last come to fact with this pervert in front of her. “You... you were never my friend... were you, Oscar?”

He bit his teeth down, “Is that what he made you think?!”

“No, that’s what he made he realize!” She threw up her hammer and blasted wind at her.

She was forced to slide against the concrete, “I don’t mean to hurt you, Amy dear!” he cried out, “We’ll settle this when he isn’t around!”

“I think you’ve got it backwards, Oz!” Sonic, seeing that his hands controlled the wind, kicked it away from Amy’s direction and then spun in a rotation within the air to punch him down.

He stumbled, as though not used to physical fighting and tumbled all the way over into the street.

“I’ve known Amy much longer and deeper than you have! You’re just some creep who takes advantage of little girls!” Sonic’s fists was shaking, clearly, he didn’t want to just leave it at one blow. “Amy, get behind me!” He gestured out his hand and Amy immediately got up and moved behind him.

“I can... I think I can fight him!” She tried to state, but Sonic looked behind his shoulder and she put her head down. “I... I want to but...”

“...You still care about me, don’t you, Amy dear?”

“Quit calling me that!” Amy threw her arms down, “You used me! You weren’t my friend! I can’t believe I trusted you!”

Sonic turned to the man, “Why are you even answering him, Amy? He’s not talking to you, he’s talking to some Amy Dear girl he’s been building in his mind. You were never anything to him... it was the girl he was crafting that he was interested in.” Sonic slowly walked towards him as the man started to scoot back, clearly not able to fight Sonic The Hedgehog.

“Let’s play a new game...” Sonic suddenly lifted up a device, “Is your real name Warner Windstrom? You’ve got a bounty on your head that the cops are just dying to claim...” he pressed the button as suddenly an alarm went out, and from around the corners, police vehicles blocked his way of escape. “Oh, and that club? A typical place where your old ‘hostages’ claimed they were drugged. Trust me, pal, I’ll personally make sure you don’t get out of jail again.” Sonic let the police start moving in but Warner immediately shoved air beneath him and flew into the sky, shocking everyone as Sonic held up a arm over his eyes and moved back to Amy, shielding her as well.

She was in shock, that kind man she knew was suddenly a criminal and had previously hurt and abused other women... She didn’t know Sonic set this all up, but she probably wouldn’t have let him if she had known.

“I thought we were just gonna talk to him!” she cried out, putting her hand on his shoulder before shaking her head, “I’m defending him again... aren’t I?”

“Amy shouldn’t be with a loser like you, Sonic!” Warner cried out, “You can’t always save her! You can’t always be around to-!”

Before he could finish, a hammer slammed into his gut.

“Nice one, Amy.” Sonic complimented, as Amy stood up beside him.

She didn’t say anything, but judging from the neutral expression... and tears streaming down her eyes...

He just looked back at Warner, “I know this is a lot to take in... but trust me on this one... You’ll be alright.”

Amy summoned another hammer, “Want to give me a lift?”

“Certainly.” Sonic spun into a ball that lifted him up into the wind, then uncurled to reach out for Amy as she jumped, “Hit him hard!” he encouraged as he threw her up the rest of the length.

She pushed her dress down as he extended his arms to her, “Amy, please! You know me! I love-!”

She just growled and let out a piercing war-cry, slamming her hammer down on his face, “I’m not your friend, I’m not your anything, buzz off!!!!”

He slammed to the ground, and as the wind ceased, Sonic landed and caught her immediately, and the two watched as the police immediately took him.

He kept trying to call out to Amy but she didn’t say anything back, just ducking her head into Sonic’s shoulder.

Sonic’s eyes never left Warner’s face... but leaving the scattered bags around, he took her to the park near by and sat her down.

He waited there... as Amy was just frozen in her thoughts... unable to speak.

After some time, she got up and walked to stand beside him, “What about the bags?”

“Not concerned.” Sonic stated, then looked back to her, “You okay?”

“No,” Amy admitted, “You were right. It’s gonna take time... but I wish it would all just go away now.” she placed her hands on the side of her arms, “How... how did you know? When I was telling you about him... how did you know he was no good?”

Sonic tilted his head back and forth, then tapped his head. “When you’ve been around the block a few times... helping justice here and there... you learn a thing or two about red flags, Amy... you don’t have a lot of dating experience--or just knowing bad dudes are like that--in general! I don’t blame you... but I do think that you should be careful who your friends are.”

She scooted closer to him... then tilted her head to his shoulder.

“..Can you help me get better?”

“No,” he lightly tilted his head to hers, “But I can be with you while you figure it out.”

There was a long moment of silence as they held that comforting moment...

“Will I ever be me again?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“...No,” He responded, tenderly, as though a whisper as he looked up at the rain being to slowly drop all around them. “But I can be with you as you learn to accept her.”

Amy closed her eyes, feeling the small drops of rain before it all at once, speedily came down on them.

“...Will you still love me? At the end of it all?”

Silence...

“I already do.”

Rain scattered as Sonic held his eyes straight up into the clouds... the storm in his heart subsiding as Amy cried and her shoulder’s bounced beside him.

#sonamy #sonamy au #sonamy prompt #sonicxamy

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