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mothandpidgeon · 2 years

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Helter Skelter (cult leader!Ezra x f!reader) - Chapter 6 [the end]

MASTERLIST - TAG LIST

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Pairing: cult leader!Ezra x f reader, dark!Ezra x f reader

Series summary: When you meet a mysterious thinker named Ezra, you join up with his followers and become a part of their family. Your new life is full of psychedelics, sex, and mind bending experiences. But there’s something dark lurking in Ezra’s philosophy. Will you discover it before it’s too late?

Words: ~3.7k

Rating: E 18+!

Warnings: SPOILERS dark!Ezra, elements of dubcon (this is a cult so there is psychological manipulation), cults (obviously), pregnancy, p in v sex, oral sex, pregnancy loss, violence, blood (feel free to let me know anbout anything ive missed)

a/n: This is the end of the story. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride. I can’t believe that it took me this long to get this fic completed. I remember messaging @wordsandwhiskey about an acid trip to the Green and it feels like ages ago. My personal life has been a journey. I’m working on publishing a fucking book. But I’ve wanted to come back and finish this out. I pretty much never get into drama or get personal but here’s some tea. Before I even posted the first chapter of this fic, there was a lot of negative shit being said about its content. I was blocked by people who I’d never interacted with. I saw conversations about me bleed over to twitter. I got nasty asks (not even on anon) that I simply deleted because I knew replying would just get them off. I actually considered not posting this fic at all and when my amazing friends convinced me that was silly, I still felt so much anxiety about the asks I might get. I remember posting the first chapter not because I was excited to share a story but as evidence, to prove that whatever had been assumed about what I wrote wasn’t true. Anyway, to get to the point, I know this isn’t one of the more popular things that I’ve written but thank you for reading it. Thank you for reblogging it. Thanks for just giving it a chance. I actually love this fic for all of the reasons other people hate it. I love hearing that I’ve given readers goosebumps and that they feel the pull of Ezra’s charm despite knowing how dangerous he is. I’m really proud of this. All of that being said, I warned you from the very beginning, there is no happy ending. This story gets darker still if you can believe it. I hope it thrills you.

That night there was a bonfire. Everyone was giddy, especially Cee who’d laid her hand gently on your belly, her eyes as big as saucers. She threw her arms around your neck and your tears had come even harder.

You sat in the grass by the fire soaking in its warmth, your body deliciously exhausted from emotion. Your face hurt from smiling. Ezra was behind you, his knees outside of your own, fingers tracing the skin of your bicep. On the opposite side, Clo and Rieve had already started making out. Tracy situated herself beside Ezra but you hardly noticed. When she tried passing a joint to Ezra he waved her away.

“You’re not going to leave now, are you?” Cee asked. She perched in front of you with her knees folded under. Her cheeks glowed in the warm light of the flames.

You cupped her face in your palm.

“Of course not, birdie” Ezra’s voice came as he wrapped his arm around your middle and rocked you side to side.

You laughed and Cee let out a whoop as she stood and started spinning around. She looked beautiful and delicate like a magical woodland creature. Her silhouette was dark against the thin fabric of her dress, illuminated by orange. You could feel Tracy watching you until Cee pulled her to her feet with a bubble of laughter.

Ezra pinned you in closer to his chest, pressing a lump in the denim of his jeans at the small of your back. “I want you so desperately,” he purred against your ear. A shiver of pleasure spread over your skin. His eyes looked black as they slid across you, deep enough to fall into.

He got up and took you by the hand, leading you back to the house. It was dark inside, everything covered in shadow but you could find your way up to the bedroom blind. The bon fire shone through the bedroom windows and you could hear the far away sounds of the others singing.

Ezra laid you out on the big bed. It wasn’t Muriel’s bed anymore. This place was yours now. They’d claimed this house, your family, made a place for you, for this. You slid out of the dress, your dress, and you could barely breathe as you felt Ezra’s glinting eyes drinking you in.

“My beautiful starlight queen,” he rasped. He cupped your breast and found your nipple, sucking furiously. You moaned deeply and he made a noise of approval that set you on fire.

When he was finished, his lips were glistening and he kissed you. The sour taste from retching earlier still lingered in your mouth but Ezra didn’t seem to care. His tongue burrowed against yours eagerly as if he wanted to devour you from the inside out. He wanted all of you, even the vile parts. And you would take him the same way. Whatever had revolted you, whatever you’d feared, none of it compared to the feeling of Ezra wanting you, needing you. He’d become a part of you, one that you couldn’t cut out.

You grasped his standing cock and tugged. Ezra let out a throaty groan but his hand encircled your wrist.

“Patience, Star,” he whispered, guiding your touch away. “My most precious jewel.”

Ezra put his lips to your fingertips and then slunk down your body, his nose trailing a heated path across your belly. His hand slid up your leg towards your center and you gasped. He knelt between your legs and inhaled deeply. The feeling of his stubble against the sensitive skin of your thigh lit up your entire body.

“I want to taste you. You’re already sweet as honey,” he said as he parted your thighs. “Soon you’ll be ripe as a peach.” His mouth surrounded you, tongue coaxing more release from you. He growled into you, vibrating up your spine and making your back arch away from the mattress. “Delicious.”

His palm splayed out on your belly as his tongue swirled over you, drinking you in. Ezra continued on noisily, drowning out the sounds of the celebrations outside. Your eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed by the mounting sensation, dizzy and glorious. He edged you closer and closer with his long strokes. A tingle burned up from Ezra’s mouth to your throat and it burst out in a feral grunt through gritted teeth.

“That’s right,” he cooed as you came down from your high. He crawled up beside you, held your chin in his big hand and put his slick lips to yours.

You were still reeling, pulsing at your core, and breathless as Ezra rolled you over him. His eyes darted over your body, greedily trying to take all of you in at once. You felt needy, desperate for more of him so you rocked up on your knees and slid down onto him. The long, straining sound he made was delicious.

You threw your head back, rolling your hips over him. Ezra’s hand found places to touch and grab– the curve of your hip, the muscles in your calf. It felt like you were floating, like you could take him up to the Green with your ecstasy alone.

Ezra’s hips stuttered against you, brows twisted, lost in pleasure. You pressed your chest against his, skin sticky with perspiration. He buried his face in your hair, snarling, and you felt his nose against the sweat on your temple.

“Let me defile you once again,” he said.

His ragged voice made you come apart and, just as you crested, your body quivering and plummeting like you were sliding downhill, you felt him leave you. You clenched around nothing, a cry escaping you as you panted. Ezra put your limp body onto your back and you opened your eyes to see him up on his knees, pulling at himself. Soon he was marking your stomach with his hot release, swearing and grunting.

Ezra was still sleeping when you slid out of bed. He’d pulled you into his chest before he dozed off, a heavy arm draped across your middle.

“It’ll be a girl,” he told you. “We’ll call her Ruby.” He brushed his lips against your shoulder, the stubble on his face rough and wet. “Stay with me.”

You wouldn’t dream of being separated from him now.

Dawn was breaking, painting the room in a dull purple glow. The house was quiet and you assumed the others had gone to sleep just a few hours earlier. There was a full length mirror on the door to the armoire in the corner. You crept over and studied the reflection of your naked body.

How had you missed it? You spent so much time in your own skin and yet you hadn’t paid any attention to the swell that was growing. It wasn’t a dramatic change, a little fullness in the belly like you’d feasted on a Thanksgiving dinner. You realized now that your breasts had swollen like a balloon threatening to pop. No wonder Ezra had spent all night clutching them in his sleep.

You smoothed your open hand across your stomach. What would she look like? You hoped she had Ezra’s eyes, his thick, dark hair. A smile bloomed on your lips as you pictured him with a soft little child in the crook of his arm. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from letting out a laugh.

Ezra wouldn’t let you out of bed once the mid-morning came. When you told him it was your turn to make coffee, he chuckled. “Cee can attend to that,” he said and began kissing your neck again.

You arched your back, wiggling closer to him. It could always be like this and, still, it would never be enough of him.

When you sighed you heard his deep purr in your ear. “Mhmm.”

His fingers had just began to tease between your legs when you heard the door squeak open. Tracy appeared with her hands behind her back and Ezra unwrapped himself, sitting up against the wooden headboard.

“Harmony,” Ezra said.

Irritation prickled at you as she sat herself down on the corner of the bed. You rested your head on Ezra’s shoulder, tangled your fingers into his.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize,” Tracy said. “Star, you’re like, totally glowing.”

“She is,” Ezra agreed. “Yet Star has always been incandescent.”

“What’s it feel like?” she tried.

She looked at Ezra skittishly trying to see if he was listening. You noticed it, though she hid it well. For a moment, you felt bad for her.

“I don’t know,” you told her. “It’s special.”

“Far out,” she responded. “I’ve never held a baby before.”

The image that popped into your head made you feel nauseated again. You had the urge to snatch away a child that wasn’t there. Suddenly, you grasped at your stomach and whined, curling into yourself. Ezra was immediately attentive, concern cutting his brow. You breathed in a hiss of air and buried your face into him.

“Star,” he said.

“Hurts,” you replied.

“I’ll get her some water,” Tracy said and rushed out.

Ezra rubbed your back gently, murmuring reassurances. After a moment you sighed and wiped sweat off of your brow.

“What’s troubling you?” Ezra asked.

“It’s nothing,” you told him. Your voice sounded weak. “I feel better.”

“It appears to be a wealth of something,” he said.

You sighed. “I don’t know. I just felt this…vibration.”

You could see Ezra’s eyes harden just slightly. Tracy was in the room again.

“Drink this, Star,” she said.

You winced when she handed you the glass and when she put her palm on your shoulder you shivered.

“Harmony, allow her to rest,” Ezra said.

Tracy flushed and nodded, quickly retreating from the room. Ezra got up and slid into his jeans. He tilted your chin up for a kiss.

“Sleep,” he whispered and then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

You never saw Tracy again.

You didn’t know what Ezra said to her but she was gone the next morning. There was a part of you, the part that had wondered about old Muriel, that questioned whether she’d actually left of her own free will. But you’d been able to ignore that voice before so just enjoyed the fact that she was gone and you were here with Ezra and the family and Ruby.

You were happier than you could ever remember. Every morning you woke up with your legs tangled around Ezra’s– hot, naked skin cooled by the breeze from the open window. Occasionally Cee would sleep next to you but Ezra, he was all yours. He didn’t want anyone else, never spent the night in another bed, would leave you breathless and spent over and over again. During the day, he touched you carefully and watched you with an intense desire that made you feel dizzy. Ezra whispered in your ear about how exceptional you were, how beautiful you’d become, how he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

The others took extra care of you, never asking you to volunteer for chores. Cee would pick flowers for you and write poems with words that rhymed with ‘Ruby.’ Even Clo was sweet to you and brought a pint of ice cream back when she and Rieve drove into town.

It was the best week of your life. If only you’d known how quickly it would all change.

You were on the porch that afternoon. The sky was the most perfect shade of blue, warm sun bathing the yard. It was autumn and the only leaves that still held onto the trees were red and purple. Cee braided Clo’s hair on the front steps. Rieve had just finished chopping wood. He laid against the painted floor of the porch, occasionally plucking a string on his guitar.

Ezra was happy that day. He had you in his lap, moving lazily in the rocking chair as his fingers slid your skirt up inch by inch with excruciating patience. Usually he’d be rambling on with one of his stories but he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Instead, he hummed a tune that was only loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“What song is that?” you asked him in a whisper.

He looked up at you with shining eyes and a mischievous smile. Your skirt wandered further up your thigh. Ezra opened his mouth to answer but he was distracted by the sound of crunching gravel. You turned to see a car pulling up the driveway.

“Who could that be, Birdie?” Ezra asked.

In the corner of your eye you saw Cee go rigid. Rieve sat up on his elbows.

The station wagon pulled to a stop close to the house. Its plates said Wisconsin or Washington, you never could quite remember. A woman in the passenger seat got out like a spring. She was somewhere in her 50s or 60s and the sour look on her face did little to make her look youthful. Her strawberry blonde perm was covered by a plastic kerchief and a little handbag bounced off of her arm.

Ezra slid you off of his lap and stood, stretching like a cat that had just woken up from a nap in the sun. “Afternoon,” he said.

The woman ignored him. Her little eyes looked over the property and you noticed how thickly she’d coated her lashes in mascara. “Harold, look at this place,” she said in disgust.

Harold unfolded himself out of the driver’s seat and had just managed to put his hat on as she berated him. He was balding and looked tired.

“How can I be of service to you?” Ezra inquired.

“Now, what’s going on here?” Harold asked.

“Where’s Muriel?” the woman demanded.

You swallowed. Ezra had dispatched with the old ladies easily but this woman was raring to fight.

Ezra looked between them he answered, “I’m afraid she isn’t at home.”

“Oh, don’t give us that malarkey,” Harold groaned.

Clo giggled quietly and you shot her a look. Cee’s body seemed to shrink on the other end of the steps.

“Aunt Muriel!” the woman began to call, craning her neck towards the windows on the second floor. “Aunt Muriel! It’s me, Rita!”

“Rita,” Ezra said, his voice as steady as ever. “You’ll have to forgive me but I have some tragic news.”

“I’ve heard all about it,” Rita snapped. She thrust a hand into her purse and pulled out a folded page. “A letter of condolence from her Rotary Club.”

Rieve started to gnaw at the corner of his fingernail.

“That’s right,” Ezra told her.

“And who the hell are you people?” Her face was blotchy with righteous anger as she peered at the letter. “Her granddaughter?” she scoffed. “She never had any children.”

“We live here,” you said. You weren’t sure how the words had come out so easily, so defiantly but you were standing tall with your arms crossed.

“Why in God’s name would a bunch of hooligans be living in my aunt’s house?” she snarled. “Where is she? What have you done with her?”

“She is deceased,” Ezra said, some of the cold irritation edging into his voice.

“What is this?” she went on. “You’ve turned the place into some kind of whorehouse?”

You could see Ezra’s shoulders rising and falling as he tried to keep his breath steady. Your jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might shatter.

“Harold, get back in the car. We’re going to the police!” Rita said.

Just as you’d spoken so easily, everything that happened next came like an avalanche. Your vision tunneled. Rita turned towards the station wagon. You grabbed up the axe that had been left resting by the steps. Its wooden handle was still warm from Rieve’s grip.

THWACK.

It was kind of funny. The noise of blunt side of the axe connecting with Rita’s head was a lot quieter than you would have expected. And she didn’t immediately crash to the ground either. Instead, she reeled around, stepped towards you on wobbly feet, all while making a guttural groan.

Harold cried out and lunged for you and Clo tackled him to the ground. You hardly noticed, still incensed, smashing the axe into Rita’s skull again until she’d finally gone down.

All the while, your mind flashed hot. You weren’t going to lose Ezra because of this cunt. You hadn’t let anything come between you. You weren’t going to give up this life, not when you were finally happy, not when Ruby was on the way. You weren’t going to see your family threatened. Not by this bitch who hadn’t even noticed her aunt was six feet under. Fuck her. Fuck anybody that would keep you from what was yours.

Harold was screaming his head off, begging and scraping his fingers at the dirt. Somehow he managed to wriggle away and scramble onto his feet. You were so caught up in your fury that you didn’t see him approach, didn’t brace yourself when he leapt at you, circling you around the middle and pulling you to the ground. You landed hard on your side and you heard Cee call out your name but you didn’t feel anything at all even as the wind was knocked out of your lungs. Reive pulled Harold off you easily and Clo started kicking him in the stomach.

When Rita was finally down in the dirt, she flopped around twitching like a fish out of water until she stopped moving altogether. There was so much blood. A pool of between her matted hair and the clear plastic kerchief, smeared up the handle of the axe, staining your dress all up your belly. There was blood on your legs, too hot and sticky on your thighs.

You were breathing hard and you struggled to stand, the axe suddenly so heavy. You felt your heart beating fast in your chest, too fast. No, it was beating lower. Two heartbeats out of rhythm. You were shaking and you turned back to the porch, an eerie silence taking hold as Harold stopped whimpering. The axe handle slid from your grip and it fell with a thud against the earth. Cee was staring, a look of terror over her features. It made you laugh. There was nothing to worry about now. You’d done what you had to do but you were all safe now.

Your vision was going blurry.

Ezra was on the steps, motionless, his dark eyes on you, brows raised, lips parted. His expression was hard to read but he looked so handsome like that. He was a yard away but somehow he caught you before you fell to your knees. Everything was getting dark and you were so dizzy. Now there was yet another heartbeat pounding in your ears. You felt Ezra’s palm on your belly and the last thing you heard before you passed out was his voice saying your name.

“Star.”

You sit in the hard metal chair. How many times has he said your name?

“Where are they?” one of the doctors asks.

You begin to shake, your whole body shivering, tears budding in your eyes. The beige cinderblocks of the room seem to radiate cold, all the walls bare except for a clock. On the other side of the white table are three men, one with glasses, another taking notes.

“Where are the others?” the doctor asks.

You take a shuddering breath.

“On the Green,” you say, plastering a smile on your face but your lips twitch and quiver.

You know that’s not true. But you want it to be, desperately. You close your eyes every night before you fall asleep on the thin mattress and you see Ezra there, waiting for you. He has to be waiting for you.

“Come on, Star,” one of them says. His voice is tender but the words are cruel. “They left you there, didn’t they? They took you to the hospital but they didn’t stick around. They got out of dodge.”

Your head begins to shake back and forth uncontrollably and the tears fall down onto your cheeks. Your chest is so tight it burns.

“Ezra abandoned you.”

You nearly double over. This doctor doesn’t know anything. He’s lying to you. Ezra loves you. You and Ruby. But Ruby’s just an ache in the pit of your stomach, a punch in the fucking gut. You cry and tremble.

“Stop fooling yourself. They left you behind. Don’t you think you deserve better than that?” he asks and has the audacity to sound concerned.

You want to tell him to fuck off. He doesn’t know shit about it. But you just close your eyes.

“We’re trying to help you, Star.”

The words to one of Cee’s poems come to mind and you recite it silently over and over until you can’t hear what anyone’s telling you.

“I think we’ve put her through enough today,” someone says.

Once you settle down and stop hearing your pulse in your ears, after instructions to take deep breaths, they secure the cold cuffs around your wrists before escorting you back down the hall. You can’t be sure how long it’s been since you came here. And where here is, you’re not certain of either. They give you medicine that dulls your memories, makes you sluggish and puts the edges of things out of focus. Sometimes you wonder if this isn’t just a bad trip, a wrong turn on the way to the Green. If that’s the case it’ll end, that’s what you tell yourself.

They take you back to your room. Or is it a cell? You wait.

You close your eyes and remember the feeling of Ezra’s touch, the softness of Cee’s lips. It’s lonely here but they’re still with you.

Tonight, when you fall asleep on the threadbare cot, wrapped in the itchy smock you always seem to be wearing, you wake up again on the Green.

It’s dark and there's a chill in the air and you can hear the bugs chirping. You’re not wearing your suit but the air smells clean and moist. You make your way through the tall ferns, foliage tickling your shins, the ground plush beneath your bare feet. A glow outlines the rust colored trunks— a lantern hung outside of a tent. And you know what’s waiting inside.

THE END

#cult leader! ezra #ezra prospect #ezra prospect fic #ezra fanfic #dark!ezra #prospect fic #prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Having asked your thoughts on designing Frankenstein's daemon, might I now ask your thoughts on bringing Count Dracula from the written word into illustration? (I'm definitely in favour of the 'Hairy Old Mountain Man of Horror pretending he's people' look from the original novel; one of the small tests too many Draculas fail to pass is an absolutely tragic lack of the Evil Beard and/or Wicked Moustache explicitly described by Mr Stoker).

Unlike with Frankenstein, where I think the design needs to be painstakingly thought out in order to achieve the best balance of the creature's traits for horror and tragedy alike, I think with Dracula you can actually just take an approach of "whatever works". Because as I mentioned before, I think much of the appeal and longevity of Dracula is how the character's both a layered villain as well as a shapeshifting narrative force that can be tailored to whatever you want to do with. Granted, there are bad or dissappointing Dracula designs, of course there are, but in regards to the leeway you get for reinterpretation, you get a lot more of it with Dracula than with other literary icons.

Like with Frankenstein, I'm gonna bring up how I'd tackle a less grim, more comedy-centric Dracula first, one that's less a force of horror and more of a charismatic villain, and I think to that end I definitely agree that people are sleeping a lot on the hairy old man barely-passing-off-as-humanoid of the original story. Despite very much loving these performers, I'm actually not a fan of takes that mold Dracula too closely to people who've portrayed him, like Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee, partially because I think it's a waste of an opportunity to create your own Dracula design. Since I can't draw (yet), I'll do what I usually do and make a board of images to try and convey some of my thoughts on one way I'd design Dracula.

(Pictured: Kiwi's design for Dracula, Hotel Transylvania concept art, Nandor, Castlevania Dracula, Charles Dance in Dracula Untold, Vladislav, a Transylvanian rug)

I used the images in my other Dracula post and I’ll post it here again because I absolutely adore @kiwibyrd's designs for Dracula and it's main heroes, in particular I love the way it strikes a good balance at making sure Dracula looks distinctly separate from the humans, but not too much that he couldn't conceivably operate in society as just a harmless old man. I also adore the mustache and bushy eyebrows and pointy ears and I think these three are wonderful features to keep on any Dracula design. I'm also very partial to the Hotel Transylvania concept art, even if it makes me incredibly depressed to look at all the great designs they had for Dracula that they threw in the trash because they somehow decided making him look like Adam Sandler was the idea to go with.

I deeply adore What We Do In The Shadows, both the movie and the show, and Jemaine Clement's Vladislav is one of my favorite (maybe even my actual favorite) on-screen Draculas. But I also enjoy Nandor just as much, and I think it's really great that as a character he's completely different from Vlad while also being ostensibly a take on Dracula, and in particular I bring up his Jersey look because "Dracula in common clothing" is a criminally underrated concept for a joke.

As a character, I'm very partial to comedy takes on Dracula that play him up as a decadent aristocratic supervillain, the kind that can get away with talking in third person. I also have this idea for a version of Dracula who dresses ostentatiously in finely-broidered Romanian or Transylvanian patterns, maybe even wearing a rug as a cape, claiming that he's carrying the legacy of his people on his back. And of course he's lying, he's not Vlad Tepes and he's not even Romanian, he is just a parasite pretending to have a history to be proud of, but good luck getting him to admit that. And finally, I'd like this version to be played by Charles Dance, and I consider it a tremendous crime against humanity that he has yet to play Dracula proper even despite being in a film with the character's name on the title.

So that's kinda how I would design a take on Dracula for something more comedic or more based around him as this guest character and personality on-set. Now, if we're talking a more serious version, I think the possibilities increase, and I won't be getting into all of them because I may prefer to keep them to myself, but I'll elaborate a few ideas.

For example, the edition of Dracula I personally own comes with these really scratchy, really creepy B&W illustrations related to the story, that I can't find scanned online so I'm uploading them here so you can look at. They don't necessarily depict the scenes but rather some of the story's moments, like Van Helsing staking Lucy, Renfield in a straightjacket, Dracula as a coachman, and they are more focused on conveying the horror of the concepts at play.

Dracula never looks the same way in any of the illustrations, in fact you kinda have to piece him out of them by trying to find teeth or capes or eyes or bat-features to see where he's hiding this time. In the first, it's the half-man half-bat, in the 2nd, he's the shrieking bat silhouette next to Renfield, and in the latter, he's the gaping jaws and eerily humanoid eyes in the wolf. The effect to me almost feels like if you were to look at a bunch of tv static and then see a humanoid shape form for a split second before everything went back to normal, something like you'd get from Slender Man or other modern creepypastas, and I’ve argued before that Dracula’s form of horror is a very modern one.

In terms of illustrations of Dracula that keep up the original traits while still pulling off horror, I definitely have to hand it to the one at the left of the image above, drawn by regourso on Deviantart (account deleted at present). Going back to Castlevania’s many takes on Dracula, two in particular that stick out to me would be Castlevania: Judgment’s armored dress Dracula, who’s got this great twisted heart/rose motif going on in his outfit, and Dracula’s final form in SOTN where he just sits in his throne and his cape twists into all these monsters, particularly how it’s depicted by witnesstheabsurd’s depiction.

I’m not particularly a fan of how Dracula’s “final form” in these games is usually just some big demon, and part of what I like about his final form in SOTN instead is that, while it’s not a particularly challenging final boss, I do find it interesting the idea of us never actually getting to see what Dracula’s true final form looks like, only an ever-shifting pitch-black torrent of teeth and claws and bloody veins pouring out because that’s ultimately what Dracula is and brings to the world.

On the flip-side of the rotten old monster, we have the charming seductor Dracula, and while I’m really not a fan of how various adaptations have convinced people that “the point” of Dracula is that he’s a seductive force and an allegory for Victorian xenophobia and I’m reeeally even less of a fan of adaptations that make Dracula some misunderstood tragic hero (and I think I’ve made rather violently clear my feelings on interpretations that play up a romance between him and Mina), that the seductive force part exists is impossible to deny, so conversely, while on one hand we can have Dracula as the gargantuan whirlwind of predatory violence, we can also go for Dracula as the tantalizing lover.

I’ve seen a lot of opinions proclaiming Frank Langella as the best Dracula because he was the best at actually being seductive while still playing Dracula, although I haven’t yet seen his performances. If I had to point at one picture I look at and do buy for a second the idea of Dracula as a romantic character, it would be that particular still of Raul Julia in the left of the above image. And it’s strange for me to think of Raul Julia as attractive because I mainly associate him with his brilliant comedy performance of M.Bison (I know it’s far from the highlight of his career but, look, I grew up with Street Fighter, I can’t help it) but those eyes are definitely looking pretty convincing to me, if nothing else.

And I’ve included this still of Sebastian Stan in the right because, during a conversation between me, @krinsbez and @jcogginsa about who could be a good fit for Dracula, jcog suggested Sebastian Stan, partially because he’s Romanian, and I’ve learned recently that Stan was actually interested in playing the character in Blumhouse’s upcoming remake. And you’d think I’d hate this idea considering how much I don’t care for tragic anti-hero Draculas, but who says that’s what he’d have to play?

Do you have any idea how much actors, who are traditionally known for heroic or supporting roles, usually LOVE it when you give them a chance to cut loose as the main villain?

I’d want Sebastian Stan to put all of his charm, all of his talent, all of his good looks and etc, into playing the absolute most vicious, bloodthirsty and irredeemable Dracula put on screen. Someone who is exceedingly, eerily good at being a lovable protagonist, who’s all smiles and charming eyes and politeness mannerisms and maybe even a funny accent, and then it isn't as funny when he's flying through your window intent on kidnapping babies to feed to his brides, except he may take a moment or two to do so because he's feeling pretty hungry himself right now.

Now, admittedly this is kind of a lot to juggle in regards to a single character, which is why my answer for questions like these inevitably has to be “depends on what I’m going for”. That being said, if I was going to try and cast someone who I think could both look the part of Dracula, as well as respectively, play “cartoon aristocrat” Dracula, “mercurial embodiment of evil” Dracula, as well as realistically be an attractive, even seductive performer who can charm viewers even as the character descends into horrible villainy, and juggle these performances even?

I think I’d have to go with Mads Mikkelsen. Not specifically because of Hannibal (I actually haven’t watched it yet), although it’s definitely a factor, the thing that actually made me pick him specifically is, other than his looks, his voice, his reputation for playing sinister characters, the fact that he loves the role and wants to play it, or how many people are deeply in love with this man, or that people already joke that he looks like a vampire, was watching him in Another Round, and specifically that glorious final scene where he’s just dancing to his heart’s content and just, moving with such spring in his step and such joyful vitality even though he’s past his mid-fifties, and that was the moment where, in regards to how much you all love this man, I went

And now I am going to add “casting Mads Mikkelsen as a dancing Dracula” to The List of Reasons Why I Became a Filmmaker.

#replies tag #dracula #horror tag #bram stoker #charles dance #sebastian stan #mads mikkelsen #castlevania #raul julia #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #vladislav #nandor

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

supercluster

this is my entry for @hollandsrecs 'toms birthday fanfic fest' event - go check it out!!! I know its a early but im v bored so have it now. also im acc kinda really proud of this one, any feedback would be v appreciated 🤍

the prompt was: 'you and tom are best friends and you tell him that you love him on his birthday'

summary: its toms birthday but he has a few things to get off his chest and into the night sky, y/n joins in with a bit of a revelation too

best friends -> lovers

warnings: mentions of alcohol, bit angsty but promise ends all fluffy and a shit tonne of dialogue

wc: 3.5k ishhh

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Everything got a little too wild and stuffy in the living area, Haz and Harry screaming sweet caroline, whilst Greg (Tom’s stunt man) was pouring *another* round of shots. The sweatiness and clamminess of the room meant Y/n took a moment to escape, sliding out the double doors, and closing them softly behind her to ensure no one would notice her little escape. Something about the midnight air, the slightly dewy smell of the neighbouring fields, felt like it was refreshing Y/n from the inside out. When she turned around, back facing the fancy rented house, she was slightly shocked by Tom standing in the garden. It was his birthday party after all. In all honesty, Y/n felt a bit guilty she hadn’t noticed he wasn’t in the thick of it with his brothers and castmates.

His silhouette was set against the clear night sky, the stars extra prominent this evening and the moon casting a soft glow off the left side of his face, exaggerating the natural contours of his jawline and cheekbones. Clearly, he was enraptured by the sky, staring up at it with a thoughtful look on his face.

And Y/n recognised that look instantly; she knew what he was doing.

In fact, he had taught her to do precisely the same thing. As kids, the Hollands, Y/n’s family and another two families from the local area all went camping together. It was an annual event, ‘the Kingston collective camping adventure’ as Dom had named it. Y/n couldn’t remember a year when they hadn’t gone actually - it was that much of a tradition.

One year, though, when she and Tom were about 9, her mothers’ due date coincided with the camping dates. So, sensibly, the decision had been made that Y/n and her brother would just be looked after by the Hollands - whilst her mum and dad were safely tucked up in bed at home, awaiting the arrival of her littlest brother.

Y/n, her brother Alex, and Tom were all sharing a tent, and it must’ve been at least midnight that Tom was awoken by shuffling and zipping up of the tent. He’d realised she was gone through sleepy eyes and, without a second thought, went to go find her. Sure enough, she wasn’t far away, not even 50 metres from the tent, crouched on the grass. Immediately Tom’s presence had been noticed, making Y/m quickly snivel and wipe her face.

“Are you upset?”

“Go away Tom.” The comment didn’t do a lot, though; instead, 9-year-old Tom had planted himself down next to her - his pyjamas getting wet on the moist grass floor.

“Are you missing Auntie Sarah and Uncle Mike?” In the same way that Y/n called Nikki and Dom auntie and uncle, the Holland boys mirrored the nicknames for her parents. Y/n replied with a long sigh before hiccuping, failing to control the stream of tears. Yes, he was right - this was her first night away from her parents- but she wasn't about to spill her heart out to the 'stupid boy' who had stolen one of her marshmallows that evening. Tom’s little brown eyes swelled, looking slightly terrified and out of his depth, whilst with all his 9 years of wisdom, trying to come up with an answer.

“Do you want to play football to forget about it?”

Unsurprisingly Y/n shook her head violently. Tom cursed inwardly at himself for saying the wrong thing, apparently football wasn't the answer to everything. The two children went back to silence until Tom had the metaphorical light bulb moment. “My mum told me something for when I got to sleepovers? Look!” He grabbed Y/n’s little hand, extending it upwards towards the night sky.

“No matter where you are, you’re all looking at the same stars too, right?”

Tom jumped a little before looking over his shoulder and recognising Y/n with the softest smile that grew across his face. Y/n slowly walked to his side, arms crossed over her chest to try and keep the cold at bay, joining Tom in staring up at the starry expanse.

“How do you always know?” Tom spoke in a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly. It was true, she did always know - but his question was somewhat irrelevant. They'd spent most their childhood together, they were as easy to read as a children’s book to each other.

“Missing home?”

“Sort of, I got my own slice of home with the boys and-and you but… pads, mum dad yeh, feel like on your birthday your always supposed to see your family.”

Although Harry, Harrison, Sam and Y/n had managed to fly out to surprise Tom on his birthday- prior commitments meant his parents and youngest brother hadn’t been able to make it. They four arrived yesterday, greeted by a very shocked and pretty emotional Tom - who had clearly been missing the sense of home somewhat. He’d been away shooting a film, then straight away launching into press for the next spiderman movie. It had been a long while since he’d been in London - half a year in fact.

This time too, he’d been away without a single family member or friend - that was another truth he’d learnt about growing up. Your friends and family, they all get lives of their own. Tom used to be a trailblazer, the first to get a job, the one everyone was super proud of. They still were, of course, but didn’t dote on him in quite the same way - everyone had their own shit to deal with. It was yet another reason Tom wasn’t welcoming his birthday as much as he usually would.

“Your parents did always spoil you rotten.”

“They spoilt you worst and you’re not technically their kid.” Y/n rolled her eyes, even if it might slightly true - muttering a ‘touche’ at the brown-haired boy next to her. Their families had always been close; naturally the adults seemed to gravitate more to the kids that weren’t their own. The ones who you could ‘give back’ at the end of the day. It just so happened Nikki and Dom had always loved having Y/n around, maybe a bit more than anyone else.

“Have you had a good birthday then? You should be in there with Greg pouring that shitty vodka down your throat.” Y/n questioned, whilst shrugging back toward the house, the dull thump of Jacob's playlist just audible. Still, both stared upwards, standing close enough that their upper arms were both pressed up against each other. She expected a jovial answer, but even from his tone, it was evident there was something up. He sounded…weary?

“I’m bloody glad you all came...don’t get me wrong, I love Z and Jacob and everyone but….”

“Shitty week?”

“Shitty birthday week of promo and press.” Tom scathed, and Y/n nodded. Even if she couldn’t understand what was so bad about press, she knew that Tom hated it passionately. And in the same way, he loved all his castmates dearly, but they hadn’t known him his whole life. They didn’t understand why he did every little thing; their values lay just that bit apart. It just wasn’t the same as being surrounded with his family - you and Harrison adopted Hollands too.

“I just feel like I’ve spent all week trapped in a room answering the most stupid, irrelevant and inconsequential questions... Everything’s just so surface level and fake and, and I-“He cut himself off, for the first time meeting Y/n’s eyes. In all honesty, Tom got a bit caught up in the stars reflecting off her piercing y/e/c eyes before changing tack.

“Will you do me a favour?”

This wasn’t spoken with the normal Tom tone. It wasn’t joking or jovial; it wasn’t an ‘off the tongue’ thing. This was spoken with such seriousness and gravitas coming from his deep voice that Y/n replied equally truthfully.

“Always T, you know that.”

“Will you please ask me a personal and serious and deep question?”

She got where he was coming from too.

Clearly, even though the evening was supposed to be a light piss up in celebration, it had instead unearthed some darker thoughts that Tom had been harbouring away. Perhaps he never even realised he needed such seriousness, or perhaps with his castmates he hadn’t felt comfortable exposing himself like that. Either way, Y/n was going to respect him now. It was technically his birthday, too; the clocks had already struck 12 - it was now his day.

It wasn’t tricky to think of one; she’d often wondered the same question of him - never with the opportunity to ask. The question popped into her head again, almost as soon as Tom asked for one.

“Okay…. What’s your deepest regret that makes you feel guilty for feeling because in the grand scheme of things, it minor? Like such a 'first world problem'." What do you regret that’s just completely selfish?”

Tom immediately stiffened, his jaw tensing as he worked through his thoughts in his head. Scared she’d pushed it too far, Y/n averted her gaze back to the sky, chewing her bottom lip slightly. It took a moment, but then she saw Tom turn towards her, in the peripheries of her vision. With a tightly closed-lip smirk on his face he joked “If your gonna ask questions like that, we better sit down.”

And so they did, both sitting crossed legged on the ground, knees brushing against each other. Just on the grass lawn, almost mirroring themselves all those years ago as kids in that camping site. Y/n wondered if she should offer to play football instead - to cheer him up.

“Missing out. I miss out months at a time. Miss out on seeing mum and dad, miss out on the pub quizzes with the boys, miss out seeing you… I mean, I didn’t even know you had a new job until you mentioned it this morning. I miss out on time with nana Tess and all my grandparents, and that’s scary cos… well, every time I go, it could be the last time… I don’t know, I just… I get so much, get to travel, to see the world, but… sometimes it feels like I’m sacrificing the foundations. And without the foundations….”

“The walls come crumbling down.” Y/n finished off his sentence quietly, barely whispering the words - but from Tom’s nod of agreement, it seemed like she’d hit the nail on the head. There was silence for a beat till Y/n whispered to him.

“Well, happy birthday to you” Trying to bring the mood up a little, she bumped his shoulder, and Tom chuckled breathily.

“Seriously! This is helping me out. I-I just need to get everything out and start my 25th year fresh.”

“Hey, if that’s all you want, I’m getting a refund on my present- we can just get deep and interview each other.”

“I’m game, except I’m keeping the present too.”

“Just because it’s your birthday and I’m a bit tipsy, I’ll allow it.”

“Okay, well then, Y/n L/n”, He spoke formally, leaning in closer and making her giggle a little. “What’s your biggest regret?”

“Honestly?” Tom just repeated her in reply, but this time it was a statement.

"Honestly."

He really was going deep too. No holding back now. Y/n sucked on her cheek before replying. “Not travelling with you when we were 19… I was just so determined to get to uni and start grown-up life, but… well, grown-up life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I should’ve tried to stay a kid longer, messing about on your film sets and pretending it was work. I think I would’ve learnt more from seeing the world with you.”

“Well, I am very knowledgable.”

“Shut up, you drop out- who didn't know what a drag race was.” She wasn’t wrong, and whilst yes, he had dropped out to be a film star - he was still a dropout. (with exceptionally poor knowledge of RuPaul) He scowled, then leaning back on his hands, so he was half reclined on the grass as Y/n thought of her next question.

“Whats your biggest worry?”

“Easy.” He chuffed, making Y/n furrow her brows at him. Clearly, he’d already thought of this. “That I finally settle down with the love of my life, and then the fans or press or paps ruin it.”

It made sense; every time Tom had gone public with a relationship, it had ended in a minor car crash. Typically it was also the girl who got hurt; she was the ‘victim’ in everything. Though Y/n had seen first hand the effect it had had on Tom - he never made it out damage-free.

“You make it sound like you’ve already got this dream girl queued and waiting.”

“I wish”, Tom sighed, as Y/n took the opportunity to completely lie down on the grass, staring up at the dark abyss. She’d always loved the stars and had become a bit of a geek on them as they’d grown up too- and maybe it was all down to Tom on that camping trip. Following suit, Tom copied her, his head resting on his hands that were crossed behind his head, taking in the moment of pure peace as they lay on the grass.

“You see that bright one there?” Pointing up, Y/n shimmied closer to him so that he definitely saw the same thing as her. “It’s actually not one. Look closer.” Humming, Tom shifted a bit closer, so her shoulder slotted under the side of his body just the teeniest bit. It meant he could follow her direction and squinted up at the little patch of the sky.

“ 5…maybe 6? What is it?”

“The pliedes supercluster…. basically a big group of stars that all were born from the same place- the same stellar nursery.”

“But they’re moving now?” She hummed in confirmation to his question, briefly glancing at the way his eyes were fixed on the sky. For the first time he seemed genuinely interested in hearing her stories of the stars. It usually was an eye roll and ‘you’re so lame’.

“They’re called the sibling stars… like everything in life, as they get older they drift apart but…. but to us down here? They’ll always be associated together because they have a gravitational effect on each other. They’ll always have their thing tying them together. Like an invisible string.”

“Sounds like you’re being metaphorical.” Tom chuckled, expecting a taunt back but receiving nothing except a gentle agreement.

“Theres also actually 7. The last one people can only sometimes see… it’s a pulsing star, so comes and goes.”

“They do that?”

“Yeh, and no matter what… if you can see it or not, it’s always there. Always having an impact on its family.”

Biting his lower lip slightly, Tom repositioned his head slightly, Y/n’s words taking time to be fully absorbed. He was sure she was making parallels to him. Barely there, appearing and disappearing, but always a part of the family.

“You are being metaphorical.”

“Maybe.” She whispered shortly. “Metaphors depend on who’s listening and if they draw parallels to their own life. It’s subjective. You can’t tell anyone what is and isn’t metaphor…. it takes the beauty out of it.”

“Right, sure... But if you were…. me, harry, Sam, pads, you, Haz, Tuwaine? That the 7?” Y/n held back the little smile at his words. Tom wasn’t as ‘head in the clouds’ as she was- he was literal. Also, he was bloody stubborn when he wanted to be.

“I wasn’t being metaphorical T.” He knew she was lying. She knew that he knew. But it still helped him, made him feel a bit better. That he was always, in some way, having some effect... lives always intertwined with the people he cared about the most.

“Tell me another story about another star.”

Time for the rest of the night kind of got lost. The two young adults just lay on the grass, entirely in their own little world, using each others body heat to keep themselves warm through the early hours. Neither felt remotely tired, Y/n whispering her little stories of both the myths and science of the old stars, pointing out each planet. Meanwhile, Tom listened in awe, for once not taking the mick out of her incredibly geeky hobby. Instead, he found himself getting fascinated by all the little intricacies Y/n was so passionate about.

It was only when the stars began to fade, as orangey-red hue started to seep up from the horizon the either noticed the time. It was now the morning of the next day, the house long since had turned silent behind them - presumably, everyone finally passing out shit faced.

As the stars’ light was overtaken by the rising sun, Y/n ran out of stories; the two settled into silence - neither quite ready to go to bed yet.

“It’s still my turn,” Tom spoke into the sky before pivoting his head to look Y/n in the eye, seeing the confusion in her furrowed brows. “It’s my question to ask. My turn.”

“Aren’t you sick of my voice yet?” There was absolutely no reason that they were both whispering. It wasn’t like anyone was trying to listen or that they’d disturb anyone else my talking normally. But it was nicer that way. It felt calming... intimate even.

“One more. And then you get one more… and then we really should probably go to bed.” He didn’t want the night to end; he was immensely enjoying this weird grey time between being 25 and 26. But it was cold, Tom could tell Y/n had started to feel it a little more. To be fair, she was only in a floral day dress, not much in the way of warmth. With a hum of agreement, Y/n smiled lightly at him, urging his question.

“Whats the biggest secret you’ve kept from me?”

With a bit of a scoff, Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, trying to draw some strength she wasn’t sure she had. It wasn’t like she needed to wrack her brains to come up with it - she knew instantly. Almost painfully too.

“Uhm, honestly?” Now even more intrigued, Tom nodded, using his foot for nudge hers - encouraging her to speak. “Probably how much you mean to me.”

“Oh” He couldn’t help it; the sound just slipped out his mouth without checking with his brain first. That answer had just been so unexpected. He had honestly been thinking that it would be something about how ‘fame had changed him’. After hearing that, Y/n turned her head up the sky again, feeling like her cheeks were on fire with embarrassed heat. Tom knew he had fucked up.

“No, I… I didn’t mean- just just ask me too.” With a sigh, Y/n waved off his stumbled answer as he tried to cover himself.

“This is stup-“

“Ask me!” For the first time in 5 hours, Tom spoke at an normal volume - but it felt painfully loud, like a shout.

“What’s the biggest secret you kept from me?” Her tone was defeated, but nevertheless, he answered.

“How upset I was when you didn’t come when we were 19. I got why, but it was still annoying. Felt like you were picking uni friends over me-“ At this point on any other evening, Y/n would have interjected and argued. None of this situation was normal, though, so she chose to hear him out. “- I know it’s stupid, but…. I guess that’s how much you meant an-and still mean to me too.”

There was silence for a couple minutes, waiting whilst the sun started to peep over the horizon, the lone witness to an otherwise very private conversation. That was until Y/n barely spoke, more like mouthed 2 simple words.

“I lied.” The intensity of the way Tom stared at her made Y/n wish that the sun hadn’t been so bright, that they were back in the darkness that hid her face more. “Biggest lie I’ve told you … that I’m not in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t see because she couldn’t face looking at him, but Tom’s face erupted into the most prominent, toothiest smile. Whilst Tom was enjoying the moment of being absolutely ecstatic, Y/n was waiting for a response- feeling her world come crashing in. That she'd just destroyed one of the most important friendships in her life too.

But then he said the opposite of what she thought he would.

“I lied too.”

That had her attention, whipping her head toward him as Tom rolled onto his side on the lawn, balancing with his head resting on one hand. “I lied that I’ve not been completely under your spell since we were kids at that campsite, and you were homesick.”

Y/n’s heart was literally in her mouth, brain overwhelmed but one overriding thought oh so bloody clear.

She’d lost control of everything, arching up to mirror Tom. Using one hand, she reached out to cup Tom’s jaw, to which he instinctively leant toward - until their lips were mere centimetres apart, hot breath fanning over each other.

Y/n no control as she whispered those 3 words against his lips. No control at how immediately after he pressed his to hers; no control as Tom guided her to roll on top of him, knees either side of his torso as his strong arms wrapped around her back.

Once again, time was lost between the two, only pulling apart when their lungs burned for oxygen.

“For the record, I love you too.” Grinning from ear to ear, Tom used one hand to gently stroke his thumb across her cheek, switching his focus from her left to right eye - in wonder at how the early morning sun reflected from her y/e/c irises. He’d always thought she was beyond beautiful, but when she was this close to him, with the sun rising behind her in such a way - she looked damn ethereal.

“Happy birthday T.” Nodding in agreement, Tom chuckled before finding her lips once again, whispering against them.

“Yeh, happy damn birthday to me.”

~~~~let me know what you think ;) ~~~~~

tagging: @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove @crossyourpeter

#tom Holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #writing challenge #tbff21 #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #harry Holland

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arrow-guy · 3 years

Text

Another Time (1/2)

Original request from @storiesbystarlight: I would like to request a Peggy Carter x Reader, with Reader being Steve’s sister. Peggy and Reader got married after the war, and by the time Steve comes back Y/N is already gone (died from cancer, if that’s okay). Steve goes to ask Tony about Y/N and Peggy, and that’s how he finds out they got married and that Peggy’s still alive. Cut to Peggy telling Steve about how she and Y/N had it after the war.

A/N: Alrighty, it’s been A While, but I’ve been working on lots of stuff, including this fic. The second chapter will be posted either the week after this or two weeks after, we’ll see what happens. BUT, please enjoy this extra gay fic! I’m v proud of it and v excited for you guys to read it

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: Peggy CarterxReader

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: Reader is a lesbian, vaguely homophobic behavior, major character death across the story (Reader character, Steve, and Bucky), grief, workplace harassment, unrequited love, verbal argument(s)

-Please keep in mind that this is a queer love story that starts out in the mid/late 40′s and continues into modern times. Some of the dynamics might not be as progressive as they might be in a modern story, If this is an issue for you, use caution while reading or skip this piece entirely.-

-- Additionally, please note that this is a story told from two different POVs in which Peggy is telling Steve about his sister’s life after he was no longer in it. While we do get the full story from the Reader’s point of view, Peggy is not a reliable narrator for Steve. Please assume that anything deeply intimate is not shared with him, as Peggy is older at the time of relaying her memories.

“Ms. Carter?” A nurse pokes their head into Peggy’s room. She notes that it’s odd, given the time of day.

“Yes, dear?” she says.

“You have a visitor.” Peggy frowns. “Is it alright if he comes in?”

He? She shakes her head. “Of course, send them in.”

The nurse disappears and a familiar, toweringly large silhouette fills the doorway. Peggy squints, unsure of whether or not she’s hallucinating. She mistook her niece for her sister the other day, so she wouldn’t be surprised one way or the other. But, when she can fully see their broad shoulders and blond hair, she knows she's right. It just about takes the breath from her lungs.

“Steve?”

One hand shoved in his pocket, bouquet of roses in the other, and a crooked smile on his face, he says, "Hey, Peg."

"It's been a long time," she says.

"It has," Steve agrees.

"Won't you have a seat?"

He nods and drags a chair to her bedside and sets the bouquet on the nightstand before he sits. Peggy watches him fiddle with his hands in his lap and almost wishes she could reach over and stop him. Almost. Watching him fidget, though, it nearly feels as if her love is with her again. They had so many similar ticks and habits. She closes her eyes as a pang of loneliness lances through her heart.

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to visit," Steve finally says, cutting through the silence.

"It's fine, Steve," Peggy says, "I know how busy you've been."

"No one told me you were still alive." Steve shakes his head and stares at his clasped hands. "When Tony asked if I'd seen you, I think I was just about ready to tear off Fury's head."

"Whatever for?"

"Well, for one, he didn't mention you, but he told me my sister'd died almost as soon as I woke up."

Peggy nods. "I'm afraid we lost her not too long ago. The wounds are still…" she trails off, tears stinging at her eyes. "They're still quite fresh."

"When?"

"Two thousand and nine."

Steve closes his eyes, his lips wobbling, and holds his head in his hands. "Did she have a good life?"

"She did." She wipes away a rogue tear and presses one hand to her chest. Her heart beats erratically. She hates thinking about this. "I'd like to think she was very happy. Even in the end."

“Were you… were you close?”

“We were.”

"Will you tell me about her?" Peggy opens her mouth to protest, but Steve scoots his chair closer and takes her hand. "Please, Peggy. I didn't get to live my life and I missed every second of hers. Please."

She nods solemnly. "I'll tell you what I remember."

Tears well in Steve's eyes, but he smiles. "Thank you."

Peggy remembers the first time she laid eyes on (Y/N) Rogers. It was right before she was due to leave to relieve Hydra of Dr. Erskine, and this new woman had almost been lost in the shuffle.

Some SSR official swept up with (Y/N) under his arm and brusquely introduced them. The two women shook hands and she gave Peggy a weak smile before she was ushered away to meet yet another blurry face in a crowd of incomprehensible noise. Peggy almost felt bad for her, but she knew what it was like on her first day. (Y/N) would adjust sooner or later. She had to, if she wanted to stay in this line of work.

When she returned, she found that (Y/N) had not only adjusted to life with the SSR, but excelled. Nothing seemed to slip past her, and Peggy noticed more than one operative sneaking away from their CO to ask her about something important they'd forgotten. (Y/N) would rattle off the information they needed, they'd slip her a fiver, and be on their way. When Peggy brought it up with her, she just laughed and just said her brain held onto things.

"Like a photographic memory?"

"Almost," (Y/N) said, "but not quite. My brother has an eidetic memory, though, and I picked up a few tricks from him."

"Huh." Peggy took a seat beside her and leaned on the desk. "Do you think you could teach me?"

(Y/N) rested her chin in her hand. "It'll cost you."

"What's your price?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"But you'll do it?"

She grinned. "Of course I will."

"Thank you. I truly appreciate it.

"Don't mention it." (Y/N) looked Peggy over and her smile softened. “And don’t worry about the payment.”

“Why?”

(Y/N) shoved herself up from the desk and gathered her files. “It won’t be embarrassing or expensive.”

“Oh? Have you already decided?”

"As a matter of fact, I have."

With that, she tucked her files under her arm and walked off. Peggy scrambled up from her seat and followed her off down the hall.

"What exactly is it that you'd have me do, Agent Rogers?"

"I'm so glad you asked, Agent Carter." (Y/N) glanced at her sidelong and didn't slow her pace for even a millisecond. "I want you to buy me a drink."

Perplexed, Peggy said, "That's it?"

"That's it," (Y/N) affirmed.

"That hardly seems a fair price."

(Y/N) just shrugs. "Guess that's for me to decide though, isn't it?"

"I-well, yes, I suppose it is."

"Great! Then it's settled. I'll teach you my tricks and you'll buy me a drink at the end of the month." She sharply turned a corner and said, "Lovely talking with you, Peggy," and disappeared.

Peggy stopped in her tracks, hands on her hips, half perplexed, half looking forward to the end of the month.

"So you were friends with her before you even met me?"

"I was." Peggy smiles. "Your sister was an amazing woman, Steve. The two of you were so similar sometimes, it was like I already knew you when we'd met."

"Really?" Steve chuckles. "I guess we did spend a lot of time together after our ma passed away."

"Death tends to bring people closer. (Y/N) and I weren’t particularly close before yours, but everything shifted once we returned to the states. I had no friends, and your sister didn’t really have anyone left without you and Sergeant Barnes. I did what I could to keep her company, but we were placed in different divisions of the SSR."

“Oh.”

“Work kept her busy. But-”

“She had a habit of distancing herself when things got overwhelming. Happened after dad died, and it was worse after ma. When she bounced back, I didn’t know what it was, but looking back, she’d probably just started at the SSR.”

“You think so?”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe. It was probably a year later that Erskine found me. I didn’t know what she was doing for work between then.”

“Then you could very well be right. But for quite some time, work was all she had left.”

As soon as they lost the radio connection to the Valkyrie, (Y/N) shut down. Peggy cried enough for the both of them in that communications room and (Y/N) held her through most of it, unable to believe that Steve was gone. She couldn’t sleep that night and only dozed on and off for a solid month afterward.

Everyone mourns differently, of course, but (Y/N) was just… numb. First Bucky, and now with Steve gone, the only person she had left was Peggy, who couldn’t give her the kind of comfort that she wanted. She couldn’t even ask for it without risk of damaging their friendship or, worse, losing her forever. So, when she got back to the states, she threw herself into her work.

She’d been reassigned and now worked in the research division. Not that she cared, really, she much preferred being somewhere that her brothers adoring fans either couldn’t or didn’t want to get to her. It was bad enough that she’d lost him, but being known solely as Captain America’s sister wasn’t exactly something that made her want to come into the office every day. Even so, the number of men who asked “what was he like?” and “did he really die?” was still far too high. It grew to be enough of a distraction that her boss moved her to a secluded office at the back of the archives. She knew it was because he felt she was a distraction rather than them distracting her, but she enjoyed the privacy. Still, the looks of pity and gentle hands on her shoulder coupled with a quiet “I’m sorry for your loss” she received on the way into work every day were constant and showed no signs of stopping six months in. It seemed like every new recruit somehow found out who she was and sought her out just to tell her.

As the year after Steve's death wore on, (Y/N) grew more and more detached from work and the people around her. Each time she looked in the mirror her skin seemed more sallow and it was clear that she was, however unintentionally, losing weight. She was grieving, of course, but she'd never lost herself so fully in it. If she'd been honest with herself at the time, she'd have said she was scared of the person looking back at her, and she saw the heartbreak on Peggy's face each time they were together. She understood, to some extent, what (Y/N) was going through, having lost her brother herself, but Peggy had people to help her through. Hell, she still had people to help her through this loss, even with her family across the ocean. With both Steve and Bucky gone, (Y/N) was completely alone. Add the publicity surrounding her brother’s death to all of that and she was sure she was in for a full mental breakdown before the year was out. She knew Peggy wanted to help, but it felt wrong to accept anything from her. Seeing her, as infrequently as she did, helped enormously, not that Peggy knew that.

But Peggy did pick up on one thing; (Y/N) Rogers liked spending time with her. And the one thing (Y/N) had to look forward to was sporadic lunches with her. Sometimes they'd be weekly, sometimes they wouldn't see each other for more than a month. (Y/N) couldn't blame Peggy for the lack of planning. Much like Steve, she had a habit of getting herself into trouble. (Y/N) couldn't bring herself to get involved with her cases past offering very basic research assistance, so she never really knew what was going on. All she knew was that Howard Stark managed to crop up in the middle of things a hell of a lot more than he ought to.

Knowing what Peggy was up to when they weren't together made the time (Y/N) had with her that much more precious. She knew she was taking on important cases and forming strong relationships outside of theirs. She was closer with Howard than ever, and with Mr. Jarvis, and Angie in the picture, sometimes it felt like she was just wasting Peggy's time. Gossip of her relationship with Agent Sousa had managed to reach (Y/N), even in her dark little corner. She was jealous, of course, but she wanted Peggy to be happy. She'd spoken with Sousa on several occasions when he was forced down to her department during a case. She couldn't really fault Peggy on her choice. He was handsome and seemed like a nice enough guy. Mostly she just wondered if the archive rats really had nothing better to do than whisper about people they don't even know. But knowing that Peggy had someone so important to her made (Y/N) feel even worse about taking up her time.

That didn't mean she was any less happy to see her each and every time she breezed into her office and dragged her off to lunch.

This time when the door to her office opened, (Y/N) pulled herself away from her research to investigate who it was. She perked up when she saw Peggy in the doorway.

"Are we going to lunch today?" she asked.

Peggy nodded. "If you're free, that is."

"In this department, if there's ever a time that I'm not free I'm probably dead."

"Oh, don't say that. It's dreadfully dark."

(Y/N) hummed. "I'm afraid my sense of humor has taken a turn recently, I'm sorry."

"I suppose I can't really fault you for that." She stepped into the office and settled against a bookshelf piled precariously high with files and loose paper. "Has Agent Thomas stopped bothering you about your brother?"

"Not yet. But I think he's moved on to trying to ask me on a date." (Y/N) shuddered and clicked off the desk lamp. "I don't want one of Captain America's weasle-y little fanboys hanging around longer than they absolutely have to."

"Which would ideally be not at all."

"Exactly." She leaned back and sighed. "Sorry, that's not what you came here for."

"Well, I don't know if I'd say that. I came for you, and this is part of you."

(Y/N)'s face flushed with heat and she busied herself with collecting her purse and coat. "Still, it's inconsequential. You don't have to worry about it."

"Maybe not," she said. She turned and stepped out into the archives when it appeared (Y/N) was ready to go. "But I'm still going to worry plenty about you."

"Come on, Peg. How many times have I told you? I'm fine."

"You're not fine. But I'll allow you to continue lying to me until I believe you."

She shook her head and gestured for Peggy to lead the way out of the archives. (Y/N) trailed along behind her friend, head down, in an attempt to avoid her colleagues. It worked, for the most part, and they escaped to the diner without incident. They sat opposite each other in the booth and pretended to look at their menus as if they weren't going to order the same meals they always did.

They sat and talked about work until their food came. Peggy was working on something boring with Sousa, and (Y/N) on something dreadfully more so in the belly of the SSR. Peggy laughed when she told her about Agent Thomas’ last pitiful attempt to engage her in conversation. He’d walked up, wringing his hands like a fly on a windowsill, and trembled out something along the lines of “Lovely day, isn’t it?” and (Y/N) said something to the effect of “Wouldn’t know, the archive doesn’t have windows.”

“You’re a crackup, (Y/N). I hope you know that.”

“Mm, yeah, I had to be when I was a kid because being a, quote, “bright girl” didn’t really get me anywhere.” She sighed and poked at her meatloaf. "Not that it's gotten me much further in the SSR."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that."

"Oh?"

Peggy leaned across the table and, sensing the conspiratorial change in conversation, (Y/N) followed suit. "I have a proposition for you."

"Is this a secret?"

"Of a sort, yes."

She tilted her head to the side. "What is it?"

"I've been chosen as the co-head of a new agency. I want you to go with me."

"You want me?" Peggy nodded and (Y/N) frowned. "But I work in the archives."

"That doesn't make you any less valuable or skilled." Peggy paused a moment. "Do you want to work in the archives?"

"Well I don't hate it. I just don't know why you'd want me to work for you."

"You'd be working with me, (Y/N). None of this 'for' business." Peggy covers (Y/N)'s left hand with hers. "We worked so well together during the war. I know we'd make a great team now."

Her knee-jerk reaction was to say no, simply because it was Peggy asking. As it was, she felt like she already embarrassed herself around her enough. She was sure working with her would just make it worse. More than that, she didn’t want this job simply because of Steve. His legacy had followed her through her career, never mind the fact that she was with the SSR before Captain America even came to be. There were more than a few whispers around the office that she’d only been kept on because of her ties to him. But she knew this was the case for Peggy too. Which led her to think about where she stood with the agency. Her boss already thought of her as a distraction to the rest of his men and sequestered her to the very back of the archives. She was mostly stuck with the jobs no one wanted and everyone's backlog at the end of the day, simply because they didn't want to do it and assumed she would. She'd been demoted and belittled and pushed around since the war ended. And she was tired. Tired of the job and tired of putting up with the way she was treated.

"I'll do it," she said.

"Wonderful-"

"On one condition."

"Name it."

"You hire Rose Roberts."

“Rose?”

“Yeah, the woman who’s been working front desk security for the last two years. She should have the same opportunity.”

“Of course.” Peggy shook her head. “Of course she does. I suppose I expected that you’d ask for a corner office, or something along those lines.”

(Y/N) almost laughed. “That’s not important to me. You’re building something from the ground up. That means you need people that you can trust, and that won’t be the idiots with the SSR.”

Peggy smiled and squeezed (Y/N)’s hand. “I almost hate that you always have someone else’s wellbeing in mind.”

Force of habit, (Y/N) thought. Too many years with a sick brother and no one to take care of him properly meant she was inclined to worry about others more than herself sometimes. Peggy was no exception.

Peggy moved into her line of sight and asked, “So, you’ll do it?”

“Of course I will.” (Y/N) smiled and Peggy squeezed her hand again. “Can’t say no to you, now can I?”

The SSR didn’t take losing three of their best agents lightly. Not that Rose, Peggy, or (Y/N) were well taken care of or appreciated when they were with the agency. The SSR just didn't want anyone else playing with their toys. At best, they were cold, at worst they outright accused Stark and Colonel Phillips of poaching their operatives and actively tried to stop anyone from defecting to S.H.I.E.L.D.. This, however, didn’t do a damn thing to slow down Peggy and her team. (Y/N) immediately dove into casework. She was finally working somewhere she wasn’t a spectacle for her colleagues to gawk at. Instead she was, for the most part, seen as an equal rather than a nuisance. She wasn’t secluded to the deepest darkest corner of headquarters, and she wasn’t stuck with the jobs no one wanted to do.

Rose worked closely with Peggy as her secretary, but (Y/N) was occasionally allowed to borrow her for field work. Most of the time, though, she’d leave on her own and come back bright eyed, but scraped up and bruised. Peggy would worry over her, but (Y/N) would just wave her off and shut herself in her office to finish her reports. Eventually Peggy would let herself in, bearing gifts of food, tea, and a first aid kit.

“You know you don’t have to patch me up, Peg.” (Y/N) tried to pull her hand away, but Peggy’s grip just tightened around her fingers. “You’re the director. You have better things to do than worry about me.”

“You don’t take care of yourself in the field. Someone has to make sure you get home in one piece.”

“And you do a wonderful job, but I can stick my own bandaids on.”

"If only you could be trusted to do so."

Peggy muttered something about (Y/N) and Steve being "far too similar" and (Y/N) just laughed. "We practically raised each other. Of course we're alike."

"I just worry about you." Peggy pressed an antiseptic soaked cotton pad to (Y/N)'s scraped knuckle and cringed at the resulting hiss of pain. "You've gone from archival work to almost full time in the field. More than that, you always come back bloodied in one manner or another."

"But I'm happy." (Y/N) tilted her head to the side in an attempt to catch Peggy's eye. "I'm doing a job that I'm proud of and I haven't been this happy since…" she trailed off at the feeling of tears welling in her eyes. She sighed and shook her head. "Isn't that the important part? That I can stand to come to work every day?"

“Of course that’s important.”

She didn't say anything further, but (Y/N) watched Peggy's jaw clench. And thought about how she wanted to push back harder. To continue barrelling down the path she'd chosen. But the last eight months of freedom meant nothing if she lost Peggy in the process. Instead of fighting, she plucked the cotton pad from between Peggy’s fingers, set it to the side, and enveloped the woman’s hands in both of hers.

“I’ll be more careful.”

Peggy didn’t look at her. “Thank you.”

(Y/N) almost laughed. “Don’t thank me. I’ve been reckless.”

Peggy did laugh. “Yes, you have been.”

“After I’m done with this assignment, I’ll do whatever you want. Someone else can take over the field work until you’re comfortable with me going back.”

“And if I never am?” (Y/N) opened her mouth to answer, but couldn’t find the words. Peggy looked her directly in the eyes. “What would you do?”

“I don’t know.”

"Would you leave S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Where would I go?" Peggy began to answer, but (Y/N) cut her off. "No, I mean, what other agency would take me? There's nowhere else I could work." She dropped Peggy's hand and began pacing the office. "I guess I wouldn't leave. I can't. If you never let me go back to field work, I… I'd be disappointed, obviously, but I'd have to respect your decision. And I would respect your decision."

"Good-"

"But I'd wonder if you actually trust me."

"Of course I trust you. I just…"

"Yeah, you worry, but I worry about you too. Every single day at the SSR, I'd hear everyone else talking about the things you were getting into and the people who were after you after everything happened."

"(Y/N)-"

"I mean Christ, Peg, you were impaled and I didn't even hear about it from you!"

"I didn't know that had gotten back to you."

"Well it did. And I didn't say anything because I didn't want to get in the way of doing your job." She dragged her fingers through her hair and stopped to stare out the window. "And I'm not saying this because you shouldn't bring it up with me, because you're my boss and you have to. But I need you to understand that I know exactly how you feel. I know what it's like to see the aftermath and not know what happened till you read the mission report. And I know better than anyone what it's like when someone important to you doesn't make it back."

She muttered something like "Good going, Rogers," under her breath and grabbed her coat and purse from the rack near the door. Peggy stood abruptly and (Y/N) stopped to hear what she had to say.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." (Y/N) shook her head. "I need to go home for the day."

"(Y/N)..."

"I'll be in early tomorrow. You'll have the report on your desk when you come in."

"She left? Just like that?"

"She wanted to leave before she said something she regretted." Peggy can't help laughing at Steve's expression. The deep furrow between his brows just gets deeper as he listens. "It was the first of the few fights she and I ever had. Our emotions were very close to the surface. Of course she left."

"Did you two fight a lot?"

"Heavens, no. We got along very well, actually. Far better than anyone would've wanted us to at the time." Peggy chuckles at her little joke but Steve simply looks confused. "We fell in love, Steve."

"What?"

"Well, rather, I fell in love with her. She'd carried a flame for me for years. I was just too blind to see it." Steve frowns and Peggy tilts her head to the side. "Did you not know (Y/N) was interested in women?"

"Wh-no, of course I knew! We didn't keep secrets from each other. And it's not like she was the only queer person around, I mean Bucky preferred men to women three times out of four and I…" Steve trails off and he ducks his head in a poor attempt to hide the blush steadily creeping up his neck to his face.

Peggy can't help poking a little fun at home and says, "And you?"

Defensive, Steve says, “This isn’t about me!”

“Oh, I think we can take some time out to discuss this little development.”

“Look, I've had my, erm… moments with men, I guess.”

"Oh really? Anyone I might know?"

In spite of his embarrassment, he says, "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Yes I would, actually. You'd be surprised at how sparse the gossip around here can be."

Steve chuckles. "Fine. But first, you have to tell me about (Y/N)."

On very rare occasions, a small group of whoever was either free or working late on a Friday night would go out for drinks. This was generally initiated by Howard, who dragged Peggy out with him, who, in turn, coaxed (Y/N), who could never bring herself to turn Peggy down, into coming along. (Y/N) generally only stuck around for a couple of rounds, unless the Howlies were joining them that night, or Howard was paying. Even then, she never drank much, especially around Peggy. She’d been known to say some pretty incriminating things when she was drunk. It wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.

Unfortunately, after three years avoiding it, Peggy insisted they celebrate (Y/N)’s birthday. And not only that, but that they do it with a group. Organizing S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken up enough time that there wasn’t any left to put towards someone’s birthday. And that had been totally fine by (Y/N). She could count on one hand the number of birthdays she’d celebrated without Steve and Bucky combined. WIth them gone, it felt… wrong to celebrate much of anything.

Howard was the first to bring it up. About a month before (Y/N)’s birthday, he mentioned that he’d seen something about it on the calendar. (Y/N) said it wasn’t on the calendar because she hadn’t put it there and no one else had the date. He did his best to convince her that he’d definitely seen it somewhere. Knowing full well that he was lying, she simply stared at him and waited for him to give up.

“Fine!” Howard threw up his hands in exasperation. “I looked at your file.”

“That’s a massive invasion of privacy. Not to even mention it’s probably illegal.”

“Oh come on. Peggy doesn’t even know when your birthday is, and she's your best friend. How are we supposed to celebrate?”

“There is no ‘we’ here, Howard. And no one needs to celebrate my birthday.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want it.”

“Aw, who doesn’t want a birthday party?”

“Me. Now go away. I’m trying to work.”

He scowled and leaned out into the hall. “Peggy, get in here.”

When she appeared in the doorway, (Y/N) immediately knew she was going to lose the argument. Howard stood there wearing a smirk that said he already knew this. (Y/N) decided she wanted to punch him.

“What’s all this noise about?” Peggy asked.

(Y/N) sighed, folded her arms, and sat back in her chair, only to duck her head when Peggy raised her eyebrows.

“You’ll never believe what our dear friend (Y/N) has been hiding from us,” Howard said.

“What is it?”

“Her birthday is next month.”

“Oh?”

“But she doesn’t want to celebrate.”

“Really?” (Y/N) could feel Peggy’s eyes on her. She wanted to hide. “Why not?”

She shrugged. “I just don’t want to. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“No one should be alone on their birthday.”

“I won’t be alone, it’s a work day.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Of course. That doesn’t mean you’ll change my mind about celebrating.”

And they seemed to take that as a challenge rather than a fact because they spent the next three weeks wearing (Y/N) down. Or, rather, Peggy did all the work because Howard knew he’d leave with a new bruise every time he so much as poked his head into her office. He also knew that it was nigh unto impossible for (Y/N) to say no to Peggy. He hadn’t figured out why, yet, but he didn't really care so long as he got his way. And he did. Three days before her birthday, (Y/N) finally broke down and said they could celebrate. She refused a large party, as she still didn’t want to actually do anything. So, Peggy planned a small gathering at the bar they frequented. She made sure to keep the guest list short and only invited Dum Dum Dugan, Rose, Mr. Jarvis and his wife (who were unable to make it), and Colonel Phillips, who only showed because Howard said he’d take care of the tab.

When that Friday arrived, (Y/N) walked down to the bar with the group from the office and had a couple drinks with everyone. She then ordered a double scotch and escaped to a back corner booth to be alone. She watched her friends laugh and drink and chat from the quiet of her little table. LIke that, the night wore on. The bar got louder and her drink slowly disappeared. When the tumbler was empty, she found it suddenly cleared away and replaced with another.

“I didn’t order this.”

“No, but if you can’t have one too many drinks on your birthday, when can you?”

Confused, she looked up to find one of the men she’d seen behind the bar earlier smiling at her.

“Uh… thanks, I guess.”

“Ah,” he waved her off. “No need to thank me, your friend’s the one paying.”

“Right.”

“Anyway, happy birthday!”

(Y/N) gave him a tight-lipped smile and silently willed him to walk away. He stood there for a few seconds too long before he seemed to get the idea. When he was gone, she went right back to people watching. Then, when her drink, which she decided would be her last for the night, was gone and she felt pleasantly warm, she folded her arms on the tabletop and rested her chin on the back of one hand.

Rose sat on a stool at the bar and giggled at something Peggy said. A happy flush colored her cheeks. She seemed content. Dum Dum and Howard laughed uproariously at nothing in particular. Dugan gestured for another round and Howard clapped him on the back. (Y/N) looked away from the group and saw Philips shuffling towards the door. Before he stepped out onto the sidewalk he turned back and nodded once, directly at her. (Y/N) saluted him and he, unexpectedly, smiled, shook his head, and headed out into the night.

“You do know this is your party, right?”

In the time (Y/N) had been watching Colonel Phillips, Peggy had taken the seat across from her.

“Yeah, but you know I didn’t want it in the first place,” she mumbled. “It’s more of a party for you guys than anyone else.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. You guys should have fun.”

Peggy sighed and nodded. “Why don’t you want to celebrate your birthday?”

(Y/N) didn’t want to answer, but she knew Peggy was asking out of genuine curiosity. The liquor she’d had that night wasn’t doing much to keep her quiet either.

“I haven’t celebrated much of anything since I lost Steve n’ Bucky.” She picked at a spot on the table. “Not my birthday, not Christmas, and certainly not the fourth of July.”

“Oh, (Y/N)...”

“I just really miss my brother.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “And I figure if I just avoid the things we used to do together, then I don’t have to think about the fact that he’s gone. I can pretend that he’s still out there somewhere and that I’m not alone.”

“You’re not alone, darling.”

Coming from Peggy, that pet name shot directly through her stomach and only served to make her cry harder. She didn’t know how to express exactly what she felt. Because it was so much more than loneliness. It was loss and grief and pain and sadness rolled into one and made her sick to her stomach. What’s worse is that at that moment, (Y/N) realized that she hadn’t taken the time to grieve or process anything after she lost what was left of her family. Now it was spilling over with the one person she didn’t want to cry in front of. The only one she’d been strong for since Steve died. She was embarrassed.

“He was all I had left.”

“You have me.” Peggy tried to soothe her with a hand on (Y/N)’s arm, but she hardly noticed.

“But that won’t always be the case, I mean-” she sniffed- “You’re bound to get married someday and I’ll just…”

“You’ll get married too, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) just laughed. She couldn’t think of anything else to do at that moment, so she laughed. And Peggy couldn’t quiet decide how she should react, so she simply sat there, discomfort painted across every part of her, and waited till (Y/N) was finished.

When she’d quieted to a hiccupping giggle, Peggy asked, “What’s so funny?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I’m just realizing how little you actually know about me.”

“What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“Mn, who knows.” She gathered her things from the booth and brushed the wrinkles from her trousers when she stood. “I think I’m gonna head home for the night.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I think I should.”

“Then let me call you a cab-”

“I’ll just walk. I think the cold’ll do me some good.”

“Then at least let me walk you home. It’s not safe to be out this late alone.”

“It’s no safer for you, and you’d be alone after you leave my apartment.”

“I’ll phone a cab when we get there.”

“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?”

“No.”

(Y/N) allowed herself a rare moment of visible exasperation, but conceded. “Fine.”

She walked off and left Peggy in the bar to gather her things. She was sure Peggy would need time to say goodbye to everyone, so (Y/N) leaned heavily against the brick wall outside. The rough stone dug into her shoulder and her breath turned to fog in the cold and briefly billowed around her as it dissipated into the night. She’d almost forgotten she’d been crying until the tear streaks on her cheeks grew cold and sticky as thy started to dry. She rubbed any lingering wetness away, all while muttering to herself about ‘never drinking again.’

“One well worded question and you spill your fucking guts,” (Y/N) mumbled. She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Secrets are secret for a reason.” She stopped abruptly and stared at her hands. “Why the hell am I talking to myself?”

“Why are you talking to yourself?”

Peggy stood just outside the bar, adjusting her scarf and waiting patiently for (Y/N)’s answer. (Y/N) found that her face suddenly felt as if it were on fire. She hoped it was dark enough to hide how flustered she was.

“How much did you hear?”

“Just the bit about you talking to yourself.” She flipped her coat collar up against the wind. “Why? Private conversation?”

“Something like that.”

“Is it urgent?” (Y/N) rolls her eyes and Peggy laughs. “I can wait, if you need to finish up.”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m sorry.” She giggled and coughed once when she saw (Y/N)’s expression. “You’ve been so serious tonight, I wanted to try and lighten the mood.”

“Not the best way to do that.”

“Understood.”

(Y/N) offered Peggy her arm. “We should get going.”

“Of course.”

Peggy tucked one gloved hand into the crook of (Y/N)’s elbow and allowed herself to be led down the sidewalk.

They walked in silence, for the most part. Peggy occasionally tried to spark up conversation by commenting on the weather or something she’d overheard in the office, but (Y/N), not wanting to say too much, mostly responded with two or three word answers or vague noises of acknowledgement. Peggy didn’t seem to mind. Then (Y/N)’s pace began to slow. They were only a couple blocks away from her apartment at the time. If Peggy didn’t ask her questions while (Y/N) was nearly asleep on her feet, she may never get any answers. Ordinarily, if (Y/N) didn't want you to know something, she was a vault with a long forgotten combination. But, when she was even just a little buzzed, she was far chattier. Even someone half the agent Peggy was would know to take advantage of the situation, even if it was a little unethical. But that would be something to worry about if (Y/N) remembered anything come morning.

"So," Peggy started. "What's this about me not knowing you as well as I think you do?"

"Which part?"

"Well, you laughed when I suggested you could get married." (Y/N) laughed again. "Why do you do that?!"

(Y/N) just laughed harder. "You really don't see it, do you?"

"What?"

"Me." (Y/N) tipped her head back to look at the sky. "You don't see me, but I see you."

"You've lost me."

She pressed her lips together. At this point, (Y/N) did want Peggy to know. She wanted the person most important to her to understand a huge part of who she was. The problem lay in finding the right words.

"Look," she started. "Have you ever seen me with a boyfriend? Or a man I didn't work with or wasn't related to?"

"Well… no."

"Have you ever heard me talk about a date?"

"Well, no." Peggy followed (Y/N) up the stairs to her apartment. "I just assumed you weren't interested in dating or that you didn't have the time!"

"Oh, I wish I had no interest in dating."

"Then what is it?" (Y/N) fumbled with the key and sighed when she dropped it. She picked it up and tried again, only to rub at her temples when she couldn't get it. Peggy lost what little patience she had left and said, very clipped, "(Y/N). What. Is it?"

She finally got the door open and turned to face Peggy. "My favorite poet is Sappho."

"I didn't know you enjoyed poetry."

With her face in her hands, (Y/N) tipped her head back and groaned. "It's not about the poetry!"

"Well for God's sake, tell me what it is about then!"

(Y/N) looked up and down the hallway and, when she was sure that the coast was clear, dragged Peggy into the apartment by the front of her coat. Peggy batted her hands away and by the time she'd straightened out her lapel (Y/N) had closed the door and was once again facing her.

"Really, (Y/N), don't you think this is a tad drama-"

"I don't like men," (Y/N) hissed.

Dumbfounded, all Peggy could manage was a feeble "What?"

"I'm not attracted to them. I don't date them, and I sure as shit won't marry one."

"So you-you-"

"Love women?" Peggy nodded. "Yes. Exclusively."

"I see." Peggy's face was blank, save for the crease between her brows.

"Is that all you have to say?"

“Well I’m not exactly in the right state of mind to say much more, now am I?” She shook her head. “I mean, really, what do you expect from me?”

“I don’t know! Disgust? Intolerance? Literally any negative reaction other than shock or quiet confusion.”

“How else am I supposed to react? This is a lot of information to process after drinking for a significant portion of the night.”

“Right.” (Y/N) took a deep, shaking breath and moved past Peggy into the apartment. “Right.”

She shed her coat and tossed it over the back of the couch. She stopped just short of her reading chair and stared at the embroidered pillow propped up against the back. Her head was full of static and she couldn’t make sense of anything. Not Peggy’s reaction, not her own reaction, and certainly not how and why she’d blurted everything out. Her chest felt tight and she was on the verge of tears, but all she could manage was a few shaky breaths. If she wasn’t embarrassed earlier, she sure as hell was now.

“How did you want me to react?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“Honestly? I never thought I’d get this far.”

“Really?”

“If you didn’t figure it out on your own, I’d never have told you.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes and sank into her reading chair. “God. I’m just so tired of being so scared all the time.”

“What are you scared of?” Peggy crouched in front of (Y/N) and gently folded one of her hands between hers. “Getting caught? Rejection?” (Y/N) nodded. “Do you think I’d really reject you over something like this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Honestly, darling-”

“Don’t.” (Y/N) shook her head. “Don’t call me that.”

“(Y/N)-”

“With you knowing about everything, it’s too much. I can’t handle it.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” She tried to smile, but it was weak. “And I can’t ask any more of you than that.”

“I don’t understand.”

(Y/N) sighed. “You don’t have to.”

“All right.”

“You should stay the night,.” (Y/N) quickly changed the subject and got up from the chair. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go home on your own this late.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not, I’m offering. Insisting, really.” She skirted around Peggy and headed for the bedroom. “I’ll lend you some pajamas.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Well, you can’t sleep in all of that-” she gestured vaguely at Peggy- “And you sure as hell aren’t sleeping naked.”

Peggy did a passable impression of shock, but couldn’t suppress her laughter. “All right, fine.”

(Y/N) pointed at Peggy from the door of her bedroom. “I’m taking the couch.”

“You are not!”

“Nope, you’ve got the bed. I’m on the couch.”

“You really are impossible.”

“I come by it honestly.”

(Y/N) spent another good fifteen minutes going back and forth with Peggy about sleeping arrangements. (Y/N) won out in the end, but she was sure it was due to Peggy's alcohol consumption. She eventually found herself snuggled up on a surprisingly well me up couch. Peggy was gone in the morning and she didn't see her again till Monday.

Peggy didn't bring up a single moment of their conversation that previous Friday, so she assumed she'd forgotten about it. Almost a month later, Peggy approached her when they were the last two people left in the office. Peggy wanted to know how (Y/N) knew she was interested in women. (Y/N), sorting through old files, searching for evidence from a previous case to cross reference, didn't know if she should answer.

"Well?"

(Y/N) sighed and said, “Well, I wasn’t interested in boys all through school and couldn’t figure out why I looked at women more than men. Bucky’d gone through something similar and said I should listen to what the other girls were noticing about boys and see if that was what I was noticing about women.”

“And?”

“Ah, well,” She chuckled and scratched the back of her neck. “He was right. I was noticing bodies, not clothes. Eyes and lips without regard to makeup. Hands, not nail polish colors. And I found myself wanting to be the things girls wanted from the boys they were interested in. I wanted to be strong and dreamy and capable.” She shrugged. “That’s pretty much it.”

“How were you certain?”

“Dunno, I just was.”

“Have you ever dated anyone?”

“Uh… yeah.” (Y/N) flipped through the file cabinet. “There’ve been a few women over the years.” When she turned back to Peggy with the file, she saw something flash across her face that she might’ve taken as jealousy if she hadn’t known better. She brushed it off and continued, “But nothing lasted. Never really felt a connection. Why?”

“No reason.”

There had to be a reason, but (Y/N) didn’t push it.

“Are you on some kind of journey of self discovery or something?”

“Maybe.” Then Peggy muttered, “Not that I’ve discovered much.”

(Y/N) laughed. “Okay, well you're still attracted to men, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m not gonna be a very good resource for you.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never liked men. Never forced myself to either. I’m not much help in that department.”

“Ah.”

“Talk to Angie.”

“Martinelli?”

“Mhm. She should be able to help fill in any gaps.”

“She’s…?”

(Y/N) frowned. “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know, I’ve only ever seen her with men!”

“She likes both. But it’s safer to date men, so she does. Doesn’t mean she hasn’t gotten it in with women in the past.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Or in between.”

Peggy blushed tomato red. (Y/N) laughed. She’d never seen Peggy so flustered. Normally, she was so calm and composed. Seeing her flustered over a little innuendo was magical.

“We are in the office!” Peggy hissed.

“I am well aware.”

“Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed saying something like that so publicly?”

“We’re the only ones here. But-” (Y/N) shrugged- “I won’t make those jokes if they make you uncomfortable.”

“Thank you.”

(Y/N) nodded and went back to searching the files.

“Am I allowed to ask who she is?”

“Who?”

“The woman who’s got you this worked up.” She pulled a file, examined the contents, and put it back upon not finding what she wanted. “She must really be something, if she’s making you question who you are.”

“Yes.” Peggy’s voice sounded unfocused and far off. “She is.”

It hurt to hear that, of course. But (Y/N) knew where she stood with Peggy. And she was fine with that for the most part. She knew that, even with this shocking, albeit welcome, development, she shouldn’t get her hopes up. But there was a small part of her that had always fantasized about something like this. She did what she could to tamp that down. Which wasn’t hard, as she didn’t hear from Peggy much for several months.

Peggy avoided her for the better part of a month after that initial conversation. (Y/N) asked her if she’d talked with Angie, but only got a dismissive answer about “meeting with her soon.” She didn’t think much about it, as she was preparing for a long term assignment that was set to start within the month.

Due to incompetence on the part of several FBI agents she’d been assigned to, (Y/N) was stuck in the field for three months. The paperwork after the fact took nearly a full week to sort through and fill out. On top of that, she was forced to hound the men she’d worked with to complete the reports necessary for S.H.I.E.L.D. records. By the time everything was finalized, (Y/N) was pissed, tired, and ready to go home.

Peggy was at the airport when she returned and joy swelled in her chest when she saw her. When she was close enough, Peggy hugged her with everything she had, and (Y/N) very nearly dropped her luggage upon impact. She managed to stay on her feet and wrapped her arms around Peggy and pressed her nose to her shoulder. (Y/N) didn’t know when she’d be able to hold her again. She decided that she wouldn’t let go until Peggy did.

Howard let himself into her office her first day back at S.H.I.E.L.D. exclaiming, “She lives!”

“Pardon?”

He plopped down in her visitor chair. “Do you know how worried our fearless director was? She thought you’d died.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah. You were held up for two months. Peggy was starting to think the FBI was trying to cover up your death.”

“If you’re fucking with me-”

“I’m not, I swear. Anyone we could contact said the FBI wouldn’t allow communication in or out on your mission. We didn’t even know you’d been delayed until last month.”

“That’s ridiculous,” (Y/N) muttered. “They were the ones who screwed up in the first place."

Howard hummed. "But you made it back in one piece."

"Yeah…"

"I'm surprised the FBI guys did, though." He smirked when he caught her fighting back a smile. "You should be canonized."

"Ugh, don't say that. I just didn't want to get in trouble."

"With who, Peggy?"

"No, the government. You know how they love their bullies with badges." Howard nodded and (Y/N) added, "I'm pretty sure Peggy would've understood my reasons."

"Yeah, probably." Howard glanced at his watch. “Ah, I should get back to the lab.”

“What, are your alien specimens gonna take over if you don’t get back in time?” He froze and (Y/N)’s eyes widened. “I don’t like that reaction.”

“I’m just surprised. Our current project does have biological components, and-”

(Y/N) waved her hands and cut him off. “Nope. The less I know, the better. I refuse to get dragged in as a witness if your experiments get you in trouble.”

He laughed. “You say that like I’m some kind of mad scientist.”

“Well, you’re no Frankenstein, but you’ve done some crazy shit over the years.”

“And I’m sure I’ll do crazier before I leave this rock.” Howard hauled himself out of the chair and headed out to the hall. “Don’t disappear while I’m gone!”

“No promises.”

(Y/N) spent the rest of the day in a fog, unable to keep herself from thinking about what Howard had said. She hated even the idea of worrying Peggy, but this? This was ten times worse. There was nothing she could’ve done to stop it and she still felt guilty. Peggy had enough on her plate, she didn’t need to add anything more on top of it.

By the time she tossed her final report to the side, the sun had nearly set and she was sure she would be the last to go home.

She’d just closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair when someone knocked on her office door.

“Yeah?” The door opened and she cracked one eye open. Peggy stood there, looking unsure and (Y/N) immediately sat up. “Hey.”

“Do you have time to talk?”

“Of course.” Peggy closed the door and took a seat across from her. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking about your birthday.”

(Y/N) forced her expression to remain neutral. “Oh?”

“Would you really have kept it from me, had you not been tipsy?”

She said, without hesitation, “Yes.”

Peggy looked hurt. “Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you more than anyone. And I’m not ashamed of who I am, but it’s something I never wanted you to worry over.”

"It is my job to worry about you."

"No, Peggy, it's not. And I honestly don't want it to be." (Y/N) shook her head. "What is this actually about? Because I find it hard to believe that all these questions about liking women are suddenly so pressing."

"Don't talk to me like that."

"You're right." She sighed and apologized. "Just… please get to the point. There's no reason to beat around the bush." Peggy's expression turned apprehensive and (Y/N) said, "Peggy?"

"Am I the reason I'm not allowed to call you darling?" (Y/N) raised her eyebrows, surprised that Peggy had caught on so quickly. "Is it because you li-hmm... because you love me?"

Her chest tightened. How was she supposed to answer? If she told the truth, their relationship would change forever. And part of (Y/N) thought that wouldn't be a bad thing. Peggy had been curious about being attracted to women before the mission. That had to mean that she had some interest, right? But another part of her worried that, if she were to tell the truth, she'd be falling into a trap. She should deny it. Try to move on. Find someone else.

Peggy knew when she was lying though. Surely Peggy wouldn't want her to lie about this?

Slowly, (Y/N) nodded. "Yes."

Peggy took a shuddering breath. "How long?"

"A long time."

“How. Long.”

"Peggy-"

"I have a right to know."

"And am I not allowed to protect myself here? I mean… I'm the one who's confessing. I'm the one who's getting hurt. Not you."

"(Y/N), I-"

She cut her off. "I've had feelings for you since that first drink."

"I didn't know."

"Yeah. You weren't supposed to. Because I value our friendship and my own safety over the fleeting high of telling someone I love them."

"But Steve-"

"Steve had shit luck with love, and you were the first woman to spare him a sideways glance. As long as you were both happy, that's all that mattered."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be. Because I was fine before you pried all this out of me. But now you give a shit about who I am and am not fucking and my head feels like it's on wrong and somehow I'm still the one who feels guilty." (Y/N) shoved herself back from her desk and headed for the door, grabbing her things as she went.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m sorry, but I need some time to cool down.” She paused in the doorway. "With your permission, I'd like to work nights for the next few weeks."

Peggy nodded. (Y/N) disappeared into the hallway.

----------

Part 2

So I’m pretty sure this is the gayest story I’ve ever written. I’m sure the pining in my head isn’t obvious in the text, but just know the intention is there. I mean, who wouldn’t have been taken with Peggy from day one?

That being said, I’d love to know what you though of this chapter! Do you like the Reader character? Does she feel like Steve’s sister? What about her relationship with Peggy? Do you think she

Tag List:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101-blog, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @buckysendoftheline, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @feelmyroarrrr, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @hermionie-is-my-queen, @darling-loki, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @lemonadeorange73, @princess-unicorn124, @tofeartheunknown, @avengerscompound

#peggy carterxreader #readerxpeggy carter #peggy carter x reader #reader x peggy carter #peggy carter #agent carter #agent peggy carter #reader insert marvel fic

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saintzoya · 3 years

Note

if you don't mind me asking/saying, I LOVE this edit. / post/ 671492657985519616/longing-regret-hope-and-fear-i-dont-think how did you put yens face on yennefer and geralt like that it's so incredible!!

Firstly, thank you!! I was proud of that edit :)

Secondly, the secret here is that photoshop does a *lot* of the work for you - these kind of blends can look far trickier than they actually are. With this form of blending (I largely use 'lighten' or 'screen') choosing the scenes you want to blend is actually the hardest and most important bit. It's possible to blend scenes that don't work together well, but it'll take far more time.

These particular scenes work together particularly well because one has a very defined dark silhouette and the other has a light and relatively neutral background that will be easy to make disappear.

I learned how to do a lot of this from Becca's (@yenvengerberg) wonderful blending tutorial, she particularly talks about how to choose the right scenes far more clearly than I can!

That being said, there's a walkthrough on how I made this particular example below the cut:

I'm using the latest version of photoshop (v22.4), but this will work for most versions. I'm also using frames rather than timeline because for me it's easier. This will be fairly easy to adapt if you're using timeline though!

Step one: Find and make your base gif.

For this example that’s the gif of Yen and Geralt. This is a particularly good scene to use as a base for this method of blending because they are already a dark silhouette against a light background. Go ahead and sharpen and colour your gif - I’ve sharpened, added a slight curve to increase the contrast and then added a bit of selective colouring to make it have the tone I want.

Step two: Find and make your ‘overlay’ gif - the one we’re going to be blending into the base gif.

For this example, that’s Yen’s face. I’ve sharpened it but otherwise, I’ve left it pretty much exactly as it was, I will most likely add some colouring after I’ve blended.

Step three: blending the gifs!

Okay, so now you have both of your gifs sharpened and coloured and in separate windows. You’re going to go to your overlay gif - yen’s face. Select all frames, copy all of the frames, and then paste it on top of your base gif like so

You’re then going to group the frames of your overlay gif by selecting all of the frames and hitting the little folder icon.

You should now have something like this, with ‘group one’ being your overlay gif

Now you’re going to go to the drop down menu that currently says ‘pass through’ and change it to lighten. As you’ll see - with this particular example photoshop really does do a lot of the work!

Step 4: Tidying up. As you can see we’re most of the way there. Now all there is to do is tidy this up a little

We’re going to add a vector mask and mask the bits we don’t want - the background from our overlay gif. Sometimes I keep some of the background - I’d perhaps use shades of grey in the mask to achieve this, but today I want clean lines so I’m going to go in with a black brush.

At this point it’s still a little rough around the edges, and this is the bit that takes time. I’ll play around with various curves and masks until I’m happy and it looks like this:

It isn’t perfect but it’s pretty close! Then you can add any text/play with the colouring etc. until it's looking the way you want to. From memory I added a bit more selective colouring and a curve over the whole thing before adding on my text layers and it ended up looking like this:

I hope that helps!

#asks #lovely people #blending #tutorial #photoshop #photoshop tutorial #gif making #ztdtutorial #witcheredit

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helnjk · 4 years

Text

I Never Planned On You - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x reader

This is part of my showtunes fic list based on the song I Never Planned On You from the musical Newsies 💗 also i am SUCH a simp for Charlie it’s crazy

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: when the twins bring their best friend to the burrow for christmas, charlie can’t keep his eyes off of her.

Warnings: very brief mentions of death (minor character) & the war, injuries from dragons (?), mentions of food & alcohol consumption

I’ve got no use for moonlight, or sappy poetry

Girls are nice, once or twice,

Til I find someone new

The pub was unusually packed, Charlie noticed.

As he scanned around the crowded room, his friends idly chatted around him. This was their usual routine, every Friday they would clock out of work and make their way here for a round of drinks and some fish and chips.

He hadn’t noticed until she was directly in front of him, but one of the girls he saw around the reserve had made their way over.

“Hello Charlie,” She drawled, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder, “It’s so nice to run into you here.”

Despite the freezing temperature and the fact that everyone else was dressed comfortably, having come straight from work, the girl was wearing barely anything. Not that it mattered what any bird wore, as long as they felt confident in it and in themselves. But, as she bent down to be eye to eye with him, her breasts practically spilled over from her too tight top.

It was obvious what she was trying to do.

His friends watched with amused glints in their eyes, already knowing how this interaction would go. Her appearance was not out of the ordinary. Despite each incident involving a different bird, they had seen this kind of thing happen quite often when they went out with Charlie.

“Erm, hello,” He muttered, trying not to make eye contact, “Louise right?”

Her attempt at a sultry conversation was shattered as she replied, “It’s Leanne.”

“Right.”

Sensing that he was not at all interested in whatever was going on, Leanne huffed and turned on her heel. She angrily strode across the room, making as much noise and ruckus as possible, just to get a reaction out of the redhead, but her attempts were futile.

Mark, one of Charlie’s friends, let out a low whistle as the girl left hearing distance, “That one was rather presumptuous, don’t you think mate?”

Charlie let out a soft chuckle, “I don’t understand why they all think they can pull the same move and expect me to react any differently.”

“They’re all hoping to be the lucky one that the Charlie Weasley falls for, or some other crap like that,” He winked, taking a swig of his beer.

“Reckon that won’t happen for a long time yet, mate.” The redhead replied.

“You never know, Charlie boy!”

He merely shook his head and took a sip of his drink. Dating wasn’t really on his mind anyway.

Love at first sight’s for suckers

At least it used to be

The crack of apparition sounded through the pale morning light.

Charlie landed steadily on his feet as he appeared on the top of a hill, just on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. Nothing had really changed since the last time he visited, the same silhouettes of different houses littered the landscape, the same sleepy neighbors about to begin their day. The familiarity of it all blazed in his heart like a warm fire at the end of a cold day, comforting and all consuming.

The Burrow stood proud and tall in the horizon, and he couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips. He was home. It was the Christmas holidays, the war had ended, and he was home.

He took his time, trudging up through the blanket of snow surrounding the house. Smoke rose from the chimney signalling that his mum was already puttering about in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the army of people no doubt housed under her roof.

“Mum!” He yelled as soon as he crossed the threshold, “Mum, I’m home!”

As he banished the remaining snow on his boots with a wave of his wand, Molly Weasley came bustling out the kitchen door. Apron adorning her waist and a smidge of flour flecked on her fiery hair, she grinned and opened her arms.

“Charlie,” She said as he bent down to wrap his arms around her in an embrace, “Oh love, it’s so good to see you!”

“You too, mum.” He smiled at her, “Anyone else here yet?”

From eldest to youngest, she listed off the plans of each of her children and where they were to spend the holidays. Everyone would be ‘round on Christmas and Boxing day, but the only ones spending the night that day, Christmas Eve, were the twins, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The younger ones of the bunch had arrived the day prior, but were still asleep from what she knew.

Charlie nodded his head before he was sent away to unpack his things in his old room. His mum had kept it just as he left it, even though it had been many years since he moved to Romania. She said something about not being bothered to think of anything to turn it in to, but he knew that she kept it for nostalgia’s sake.

As he made his way back down the stairs, the commotion at the front of the house caught his attention. Fred and George had arrived, noisily announcing their appearance, taking off coats and scarves and calling out to their mum. However, Charlie could also just barely see the outline of a third person behind them.

She was nearly a head shorter than the twins, but when she came into view, he felt the air get knocked out of him. The light streaming in from the open door behind her seemed to glow in a halo around her, her eyes lighting up at whatever the twins had said and a laugh falling from her lips.

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on.

The twins took notice of Charlie’s presence, as he was paused halfway down the stairs, and called out to him.

“Oi, Charlie!” George called, making his way to his older brother, “Nice to see you, mate! How’ve you been?”

“Good-erm, good yeah.” He managed to stutter out, head still spinning at the sight of the beautiful girl, “What have you lot been up to, then? Who’ve you brought over?”

“This is Y/N,” Fred said, motioning to his best friend.

At the introduction, she smiled brightly and held out her hand for Charlie to shake, “I work with the twins at the shop, nice to meet you.”

Charlie spotted Fred and George roll their eyes playfully.

“Oh come off it,” Fred nudged her before turning to his older brother, “We’ve been mates with this one since Hogwarts. She was usually the one getting us in trouble, though.”

“Oi!” She laughed, “Don’t make me sound like the bad influence, I was a perfectly good student.”

As Charlie watched their interaction, he had flashes of a little girl always in step with the twins and causing mischief in the halls of Hogwarts during his last few years there. Back then, she had only been a child, bright eyed and inquisitive, but now she had grown into a woman, confident and sure.

“Nice to meet you,” He murmured as their eyes locked, “The more the merrier around here.”

He might have been imagining things, but he swore he could see the faint beginnings of a blush creeping onto Y/N’s cheeks.

The ruckus made from the twins & Y/N’s entrance was enough to wake the rest of the inhabitants of the household. It seemed like the Christmas celebrations had begun early as they all clambered into the slightly too small kitchen table and had a meal together.

For the rest of the day, Molly had them all helping out in preparation for the real celebratory meal the next day. Charlie hadn’t had the time to strike up a conversation with Y/N and instead settled with (not so) subtle glances her way.

Once or twice, one of the twins would catch onto his game and send him knowing looks. He paid them no mind, though, being used to their antics.

“So Charlie,” Fred began, as the family was settling in around the living room after dinner, “Y/N, huh?”

The pair of them leant against the wall in the corner of the room, away from any prying eyes or ears.

“Shove off, mate.” He replied with a slight shake of his head and his lips barely twitching into a smile.

The younger brother rolled his eyes playfully, “It’s alright. Georgie and I have been fending off boys for years with our Y/N. She’s quite fit, but no guy’s been good enough for her in our eyes, or in hers I reckon.”

“Don’t you go playing the protective best friend on me now, I haven’t even done anything!” Charlie playfully shoved his shoulder against his brother’s.

“Nah, I’d never. Just wanted to tell you that she’s never been romantically involved with anyone.”

“Well, that makes the two of us then.”

The Burrow was uncharacteristically silent as Charlie crept down the staircase. It was definitely past midnight, but he hadn’t been able to fall asleep, tossing and turning from the moment his head met the pillow.

He paused for a moment as he reached the bottom, not expecting to see light filtering through the open kitchen door at this time of night. His heart only picked up its pace as he noticed that it was Y/N who was sat by the counter, nursing a cup of tea in her hands and staring out the window.

“Care for any company?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe.

He noticed her body jump slightly at the noise, but when she turned to face him, the smile she sent in his direction could light up any room, “I’ve just heard from a certain redhead that around here, the more the merrier.”

“Fred tell you that?”

Her laugh was a sound he knew he would never tire of hearing, “And I see cheekiness runs in the family as well.”

“Nah,” Charlie shrugged, taking the seat across from her, “It’s our good looks that you should be watching out for.”

He flicked his wand and the kettle began to boil once more as a mug floated its way towards the counter. The pair of them had settled into a peaceful silence, taking in the comforting atmosphere of the winter night.

It was Charlie who finally broke the silence, “So, how’s it been working with the twins at the shop? They drive you mad yet?”

She gave him a knowing smile, “When you’ve spent nearly seven years in close quarters with them, you tend to get used to it. Plus it’s good to have steady company, especially when it comes in the form of Fred and George.”

“What about your family? How’re they spending the holidays then?”

The moment the question escaped Charlie’s lips, he knew he had made a mistake. The light in Y/N’s eyes seemed to dim and her grip on the mug in front of her seemed to tighten.

“Oh I’m sorry, you don’t have to–” He began.

“No it’s alright,” She assured him, “My parents died in the war. I was going to spend the holidays alone, but the twins refused to even entertain the thought.”

“Well, I’m glad they brought you along this year.” He sent her a timid smile.

“Me too.”

But I never planned on someone like you

Christmas comes and goes in a flurry of cable knit sweaters and too much food. Y/N and Charlie found themselves tucked away in a corner or out in the snowy landscape taking a walk together more often than not. A quiet conversation at the dead of night did wonders for their budding friendship.

It was as if they were magnets now, drawn to each other in a way that couldn’t be explained.

Sooner than he’d like, Charlie found himself in one of the Ministry offices, hand tightly gripped onto a portkey.

As he settled back into his daily routine at the dragon reserve, his mind often wandered to Y/N. The way her eyes lit up when she saw the snow fall, how her smile bloomed at any of the twins’ (albeit not so funny) jokes, the little crinkle in her nose when she had a particular thought in mind.

“Look out, mate!”

He only had a second to react as he saw one of the younger Welsh Greens open its mouth and shoot flames in his direction. Charlie had been so distracted by his thoughts that despite his best effort and his exceptional flying skills, he still felt flames lick his skin and singe his clothes.

Full of adrenaline, he managed to land his broom properly before rolling onto the grass and performing the protocol for accidents such as these. Mark reached him quickly, as the rest of the team he was with went to settle the dragon down. A quick aguamenti charm at the still burning areas of Charlie’s clothes got rid of the remaining flames, but he still suffered a few burns and scrapes.

“You alright, mate?” Mark asked, helping the redhead get to his feet, “I think we’ve still got to get you to the infirmary for those burns.”

“Nothing I haven’t gone through before.” He smiled, wincing slightly as his clothes rubbed against the new burns on his skin.

As it was protocol for the reserve to inform next of kin of serious injuries, Molly Weasley received an owl detailing the accident and the procedures done to make sure that Charlie was well taken care of.

When she received it, she just so happened to have Y/N over for some tea. As the matriarch of the Weasley family couldn’t help but be drawn to children who had lost their parents in unfortunate circumstances, she made it a point to have her over every once in a while.

“Charlie’s hurt?” Y/N asked, concern leaking into her voice. She had peered over Molly’s shoulder to see what could be so urgently delivered from Romania.

Molly tried to hide her smile as she noticed how much Y/N cared for her son. She wasn’t the only one who took note of how quickly they were drawn to each other over the holidays, and she was thrilled at the thought of Charlie finding someone to love.

Of course, she knew it wasn’t love just yet.

“Got a few burns from one of their younger dragons, it says,” Molly clarified, “He’s confined in their infirmary until further notice. Usually we’re allowed to visit them when we get a notice like this, but I don’t think I’d have the time to go this week… And I don’t want to bother Arthur, he’s been so busy these days with the Ministry as well.”

Having been around Molly for much of her Hogwarts years, Y/N knew exactly what she was doing. But she couldn’t deny the flutters in her stomach when she realized that the person she looked up to as basically her second mother was trying to push her into the arms of her second eldest son.

“Molly,” She began, already set to turn down the offer.

Mrs. Weasley was quick to the chase, however, “Oh I hope he wouldn’t feel too bad, being injured and not having anyone come to visit him.”

A small chuckle escaped Y/N’s lips as she shook her head, “I’m sure he’s got friends over at the reserve.”

“Oh Y/N, but I know he’d love to have you over!” She protested, “And I know the twins would let you go and visit him as well. I would be truly grateful if someone from the family could visit him and come home with news.”

Y/N’s resolve faltered as she noticed that Molly had said she was family. The Weasleys had been practically her second family the moment the twins took her under their wing, but hearing the family matriarch say it so casually moved something in her heart.

“Oh alright.” Y/N smiled, “I’ve never been to Romania, might as well go and see what all the fuss is about.”

The infirmary wasn’t new to Charlie.

Working with dragons was a little more high risk than his mother would’ve liked, but his love for magical creatures overrode whatever concerns she might have had. It helped that everyone working in the place was a top notch healer and got him patched up in no time.

Still, he found himself on bedrest for at least the next few days as he waited for the various balms and soothing creams applied to his skin to work.

Just as he began to feel a little stifled and antsy, a knock on the door rang and the familiar head of one of his healers popped in, “Looks like you’ve got a visitor, mate.”

Charlie furrowed his brows, “But, my mum said she couldn’t come ‘round and visit–”

“Sorry to disappoint, love.”

The sound of her voice was enough to fill his heart with immeasurable joy. In that moment, he forgot all about the uncomfortable sting of his burns and the itch he had to get out of the ward and onto the field again.

“Y/N?” He asked, as she stepped into the room, looking as radiant as when he first met her, “What’re you doing here?”

“Molly said that you were injured,” She shrugged, nonchalant, “Just thought I’d keep you company while you recovered.”

“You came all the way to Romania just so that I wouldn’t be bored out of my mind?”

“Well when you say it like that, it sounds like I went through loads of trouble! I just got the next portkey out of Britain.”

Despite all appearances, the two of them bantered with each other with rapidly beating hearts. Charlie couldn’t believe that his own mum had sent the bird he was pining after to visit him in the infirmary. Y/N couldn’t believe that she had actually gone through with the plan and was going to be around the boy who caught her eye.

As soon as she took a seat next to his bed, though, their conversation flowed from where it left off. No awkwardness or uncomfortable pauses, just the two of them chatting as if they were still back in the Burrow, nursing warm mugs of tea and watching snow fall outside the window.

Y/N had to avert her eyes when the healer came back to redress his bandages, not because she was embarrassed to see him practically naked in front of her, but because seeing the burns nearly made her gasp out loud. She knew that he was a dragon tamer, but she hadn’t known the severity of what accidents on the job looked like.

Of course, he noticed and once the healer had left them again he said, “I’m alright, love. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be all patched up in no time!”

“Yeah,” She nodded, “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Without thinking, she reached out and took his hand in hers. The both of them looked at their intertwined hands atop the stark white bed sheets. His skin was calloused and rough, she noted, but tender and gentle too. It was evident that he enjoyed what he did and he did it with a lot of care.

“Tell you what,” He stage-whispered, finally meeting her eyes, “I know what’ll help me feel better.”

“Oh yeah? What?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to him and playing along.

“For you to go on a date with me once I get out of here.”

“You are something else, Weasley.” Her eyes glimmered as she shook her head, and Charlie felt his heart hammering in his chest, “If you weren’t injured, I would’ve shoved you off this bed.”

“You didn’t give me an answer, Y/L/N.” He replied, hoping that he didn’t come off as too eager, but still squeezing her hand to show that he was serious.

“Of course I will, you silly man!” She rolled her eyes, but pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

She relished in the way that simple gesture brought a rosy pink tinge to his skin.

#kai's showtunes fics #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley imagines #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley fics #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x y/n #hp fanfiction #tw injury #tw mention of death #tw food #tw food mention #tw alcohol #tw alcohol mention

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stopbeingrude · 3 years

Text

I've been working on this for a while now. Since my one-shot on Gruvia-day went over pretty well, I figured why not? Probably another fanfiction about Juvia's past, but how could you blame me? Her backstory has so much potential I'll try to publish new chapters , every week or maybe more ( we'll see) So without further ado , i present you my newest work. ( Feedback is welcomed of course)

,, I like the rain, it always seemed like the only thing that was like me..."

Chapter 1. ,,Where are you?"

-"Juvia…." - he said quietly -" this is the last time you will be seeing me…"- For the moment she felt like she couldn't breathe. Until a little while ago, everything was fine. He visited her as usual, they talked as usual. However, she felt that something was wrong, she could see it from his behavior. He was terribly tense, but...

- "You're old enough to understand the situation I'm in. I've chosen this life, so I've always been aware of the fact that one day I would be in danger. But you have nothing to do with it. I won't let anything happen to you…"-he said with a shaky voice.

It was probably the only moment in her life ,when Juvia saw fear in his violet eyes. Who would have thought that unbeatable Jeremiah, the guy with a sharp tongue, incredible self-confidence and enormous power... would be standing in front of her unsure and quiet...

-" I came to say goodbye…"

'No...please no..' - she felt tears running down her cheeks. He was joking , he had to be joking. It was another one of his pranks , he never went that far , but it couldn't be truth....

- "That's not funny…. Stop...You're joking right? You can't.... you can't be serious.. No…"- the girl sobbed. She looked at his face again, hoping he was wrong....The man turned his gaze away from her.

...No...

-"You want to leave Juvia alone?...No..please..I'll be training harder, I'll become stronger…you can't!..." - her voice broke down. She hugged his legs.

The girl was still trying to convince him with all her strength. She begged , she pleaded , she cried...but nothing made him change his decision.

-" Juvia!" - this time he spoke to her in a cold, firm voice. The voice that was always directed at his opponents not her. It wasn't his usual feisty, slightly sleepy voice. For the first time in her life Juvia was a little scared of him.

-"I will not accept any objections from you. You will do as I have told you. Do you think your mother would be proud of the way you behave?"- he looked straight into her eyes.

........

Mother?.. Every time she was mentioned, Juvia wasn't sure how to react. She didn't know what to think about her…nor did she remember her….she knew practically nothing..

Every time someone mentioned her, Juvia felt like she was being told about some character from legends, or fantasy books…., not a mother she should feel some kind of connection to, not even a REAL person.

A wonderful and beautiful mage who, after arriving to Tempeville together with Jerry, saved the village from an attack of bandits. And that's all.

No one except Jerry really knew who she was, nor where she came from..

Only information that Juvia had was that the golden-haired man was on one of his missions, when he saw Eliana Lockser for the first time.She helped him and after that they started to hang out with each other, to the point they were practically inseparable....

Though, he always said that he felt like Mother had never completely opened up to him. He stated that there were many things that Eliana never shared with him and he couldn't do anything about it.

Juvia never understood that, weren't he and Eliana supposed to be…..friends..?

Well, Juvia never got their relationship, till she grew older.

-We…were close- that was all he would always say. They lived, ate, trained together, spent time with each other and he took care of her child after her death..

......................................

What would her mother think?

Honestly Juvia didn't care...In the end ,she would still end up being alone. Why would that matter?

-"Fine…"- said the girl quietly- "Go...but please don't die and take care of yourself.." - she said , this time devoid of any emotion.

Her guardian looked at her strangely. Then hugged her for the last time.

-"Farewell froggy…"-Funny, she used to hate this pet name ,but now, the thought that this was the last time he would ever call her that, destroyed her completely - "Don't let them push you around, you're strong girl..."- he whispered. Then disappeared into the darkness, leaving Juvie all alone in front of the orphanage door.

So that's it, now she was left completely alone . No mother, no uncle, no friends....no one.

The girl could not stand it any longer. She fell to her knees and started crying as loud as she was able to, drowning in her own tears.

Her screams didn't stop until she heard someone calling her name.

……….Juvia!...

'Who's there?'

….Juvia!….

'What do you want…!'

…..Juvia!.....

'Leave me alone!

....Juvia!....Juvia!...

The girl watched as everything around her began to fall apart

-Juvia...Juvia…JUVIA!!

She knew that voice... Gray?....Wait, he wasn't there at that time...he couldn't be..

-"Juvia, please wake up!" -yelled her terrified fiancé.

Woman finally opened her eyes. Tears were streaming from them, she felt a huge pain in her throat, caused by the screams. She couldn't stop shaking.

'Dream….stupid dream….'

She felt the hands of her beloved on her face. She looked up into eyes that were looking at her with great concern. She couldn't help but whisper his name

-"....Gray…?"

'It was just a bad dream, a meaningless memory from the past'-she told herself.

They looked at each other like that for a good amount of time, until Gray spoke up, in a very quiet and gentle voice.

-" Please..tell me what the nightmare was about," he asked, pulling her into his arms. It had to be a nightmare, he knew that well. But it was the first time he had seen her like this and Gray was petrified.

-"Juvia doesn't remember anymore..."- she knew that lying wasn't the best idea, but she didn't want to tell him about her past now. She was sure that he would be angry at her for hiding it from him.

-"I know you're lying, now tell the truth"- said Gray firmly. Did she really believe Gray would let her go so easily?- "...Please.. be honest with me. You know you can tell me anything."

- "A childhood memory" she said vaguely. It wasn't a lie.

-" I'm sure you didn't dream about the usual bullying you have been through. Please...Juvia..I have a right to know.."

She took a deep breath

-"Juv..I dreamt about my uncle leaving me alone at the orphanage…."- she said quietly, lowering her gaze towards the pillows, she wouldn't be able to look straight into his dark eyes.

- "Uncle? What Uncle?....But you told me you had no family left, that you were all alone.."-he said, shocked.

He has always been sure that he knew everything about his Juvia. She was always very open and straightforward with him. After they became a couple, Gray stopped hiding his thoughts and secrets from her. He thought that she did that too…

And now he finds out about some uncle... who... left her? In the blink of an eye, his mood changed.

-"All this time you've been covering the ass of the asshole who abandoned you?" -he asked, filled with rage.

Gray imagined the silhouette of a man dropping a little, crying Juvie at the door of the orphanage. He felt both anger and hatred towards the mysterious man. He would find him, tear him apart, and make him beg Juvia for forgiveness.

-" No, no...you have misunderstood me.."- he looked at Juvia's red but still beautiful face and all the anger disappeared instantly.

' She stopped using third person'- he noted

-"Firstly he is not my relative, but my mother's companion and secondly he didn't abandon me "- she started- "He's been taking care of me since I was baby. He took care of my needs, he taught me how to use water magic, he basically raised me…But because of his job, he had to travel a lot. Jerry -that's his name- said that it would be dangerous for a weak child like me to stay with him , so I started living in an orphanage. He would always visit me or the other way around...Till.."-she stopped for a moment to compose herself -" Till one day he told me that he needed to leave and that It was for my safety. After that I have never seen him again. "

For a while they sat in silence , hugging each other. Gray wasn't sure what he should say to her…

-"You never saw each other again?''-he asked. 'She just told you that, idiot...Why are you asking her again? To make her cry even more?' - Gray mentally scolded himself.

-"Yeah... I wanted to know how he was doing, i tried to find out what happened to him but..there was nothing"

- "Juvia... he can be…"- he didn't want to finish his sentence. His beloved was already devastated enough.

-'' I know"- she answered-" I have always been prepared for that.. That's why I've stopped looking for him. I accepted that…Until I met with Mrs Revee this afternoon. She used to work at a library in Tempeville - my hometown.

We started talking about old times , then she brought up the topic of Jerry. She asked me if I knew what happened to him….After that I couldn't stop thinking about him…...I guess that's where nightmares came from."

- "Juvia….."- Gray tried to find the appropriate words- "If there is anything I could do…"- He was desperate to do something...He hated being so powerless.

- "No and nothing can be done anyway, he traveled all his life. Trying to find him or his grave would take months if not longer…"

- "Juvia…"

-" It's nothing, darling. Good night"

The girl lay down on her right side and covered herself with a blanket. She tried her best to fall asleep as quickly as possible. She needs to forget all of this, so she can go back to being her happy and positive self. Not gloomy, scary Rainwoman.... Suddenly she felt Gray's breath on her neck and his strong arms around her.

- "I know I don't say this often...but I love you…...and I hate to see you like this...I will do everything in my power to find out what happened to him..."- he whispered ,- "We will start with your home village."

- "Gray...I.... - she didn't know what to say. How dare he make her fall in love even more...-Thank you..Juvia loves you too."

After that both of them were finally able to fall asleep. Tomorrow… they will start preparing for their journey..

************************************************

Author's note: This is probably the most upsetting thing I've ever written , especially the scenes with little Juvia....Ouch..

#gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fanfic #juvia's backstory #oc #pro gruvia

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joshstambourine · 3 years

Text

What Friends Do Pt. 4

Word Count: 2047

Warnings: Cursing, Drug Abuse

Synopsis: Josh and Jake are surprised when an old friend stumbles back into their lives, taking their world by storm with old feelings, new feelings, and problems they never would have expected.

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader x Jake Kiszka

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll @gretavanfleetlove

"Thanks for coming out with us (Y/N), we definitely need to do this again sometime." Josh smiles at her, his hands in his pockets with his book tucked under his arm.

"Yeah we really do." (Y/N) agreed, holding her bag tightly despite it hanging off her shoulder, fingers tapping against the strap of her bag. She tried not to make it obvious, as her leg began rattling itself back and forth--- she was getting noticeably fidgety.

"Sometime soon maybe?" Josh continued to suggest, "Maybe we could like... I dunno do a chill dinner or something at my place with everyone?" Josh suggests looking at Jake to get some form of confirmation.

Jake nodded a little, eyes lightly glancing to (Y/N)'s leg as it moved. They then jumped up to look at her side profile. 'Why is she shaking so much…?'

"Maybe… uh… what day is it again..." (Y/N) starts as her eyes shut a touch, beginning to rub at the back of her neck. Head leaning from side to side in thought, there was a beat of silence as she thought. “Uh.... Saturday maybe?” She suggests finally, an expression across her face showed that she… might not have figured out what day it was in the end.

Josh is soon nodding to her, “I can make that work.” He smiles, he didn’t seem bothered by the sudden antsy movements (Y/N) had begun to make, nor the slightly vacant look in her eyes. “Text me?”

(Y/N) nods quickly, “I will!” She hums, “I better get going! I’ll see you guys later?” She continues just as swiftly.

“See you!” Josh cheers, watching as (Y/N) began to walk away from them.

“Yeah see ya…” Jake utters, unlike his twin her movements didn’t sit well with him. Quite the opposite. When (Y/N) was far enough away, Jake turned to Josh with a curious look. “...Did… did she seem off to you?” He asks with a sideways expression.

Josh’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean by “off”, exactly?”

"I dunno… she just seemed really jittery, all of a sudden." Jake utters, he honestly just curious.

Josh began to start down the sidewalk, it took him a moment, he seemed to be deciding himself if he wanted to branch onto the matter. "She did yeah…" Josh finally responds with a small sigh, it wasn't in a nonchalant way, but Josh’s tone made it clear to Jake that he wasn’t surprised by the thought.

"...should we ask her about it?" Jake slowly inquired, his brow perking up a little.

"No we shouldn't." Josh quickly replies, picking up the pace as his hand searches his pocket for his car keys.

Jake is startled by just how quick and how loudly his twin had responded. "...uh… why not?" Jake soon inquired.

"It's none of our business." Josh says in a serious tone, which was a strange look for him. Not that Josh wasn't capable of being serious, just that he normally didn't show so much fervor in being serious.

Jake's brows furrowed a touch more. "Josh… why can't we ask her about it?" He said in an equally as serious tone.

By this point Josh was reaching to unlock his car, his gaze keeping low.

"She's your friend isn't she? If it's something important shouldn't we talk to her?" Jake continued to press, Josh gritting his teeth a little though he didn't notice.

"There's nothing wrong okay? We don't need to talk to her. She's fine." Josh quickly snapped,

"But--" Jake started,

"It’s none of your business okay Jake? So just--” Josh stopped before shaking his head, his arm now rested along the edge of his slightly opened car door. “I'm not talking about it anymore okay?" Josh finally says. "I'll see you later." He muttered a little under his breath, opening the door wide to slip behind the steering wheel.

Jake’s eyes had narrowed as his twin did this. What was he hiding? More importantly, why was he hiding it? Jake was his twin, and (Y/N) was his friend… so what was the point?

Even after Jake had moved on and left Josh behind, his twin sat in his car without making any movement to start the engine or drive off; he just stared ahead tiredly. Josh had noticed many things about (Y/N) in that brief meal. Some that made him proud… others that made him more upset than he would care to admit.

(Y/N) was her own person. She always had been. A little wild and fun when he had needed it. A little sweet and affectionate when it was important to him. (Y/N) had always been what Josh had needed despite all the bullshit in their lives. Sometimes Josh found himself wishing that he had been more like that for her… maybe she would have kept in touch with him if he had. He was still sour about that. Not that he would ever say anything to her about it, it was her choice to "lose touch" to lose touch after all.

It was becoming all consuming. That one thought; it had been there the whole time just lingering, waiting for it’s chance to spread throughout his waking consciousness. Jake's mentioning it just freed it from its cage. That bag in her purse had clearly dwindled down but the white powder was still seen and could be clearly recalled.

(Y/N) was using again. That was a certainty. The question that Josh kept wondering was; had she ever actually stopped? She… wouldn’t have lied to him about going sober… would she?

Josh slowly came to rest his forehead against the steering wheel, pinching his eyes shut. Those questions were so bitter, absolutely poisonous to his thoughts. Was he just that untrustworthy? Maybe… maybe he had been, at another point in his life. It wasn’t something Josh liked to consider, but perhaps he had lost her trust a long time ago and he had just never noticed.

The feeling of warm sun against his skin lulled him into distant memories, ones that he had tried to feign ignorance to.

(Y/N)’s silhouette barely able to be made out. Her arms spread wide as she spun in circles. Unbothered by the fact that she was dripping from head to toe in some sort of punch. Her dress stuck to her sides as she moved, tracing every slight twist in her torso. Her laughter was what had always been unnerving to think about. How absent it was.

She was standing dead center in the middle of a party. One of those senior parties that you just couldn’t afford to miss if you were invited to. Josh could remember her hair falling but still sticking to her skin, mascara running in dark smudges across her face. Everyone in the room knew that she wasn’t there. (Y/N) was somewhere entirely else. The way she sang her own song out loud made that abundantly clear.

It was one of the first times Josh had seen her like this; lost in some other place. It wouldn’t be the last. It was the beginning of something… unhealthy.

Josh couldn’t remember what he had said to her exactly at that moment. Was it… something along the lines of “Are you stupid?” or “You’re so embarrassing!”, he couldn’t be sure. What Josh did know was that his hands were clenched on her arms tightly not long after that moment. Her eyes reflected the lights floating around the party, and something else… something deeper. (Y/N) was terrified.

Despite how far away she was on everything else… she had been with him for that moment. That moment Josh had shown more anger than he had intended. The fear would only be there for a moment, as recognition came in to replace it.

She squirmed in his grip, “L-let go of me!” She exclaimed, finally able to shake his hands off her person. “I’m fine.” She said in a roar, despite the fact she had stumbled and now was leaning a little to her side.

Her hands rubbing at the spots he had once held in a fanatical way. “I’m more than fine!” She continued, “This is the first time in my… in my whole life I’ve felt… free.” (Y/N) exclaimed, her eyes narrowing at him. “I know you don’t want me to be. But I do!” She sneered.

Josh always remembered her saying that; he didn’t really understand what she had meant until later on when he looked back. (Y/N) had liked him for a lot of their youth… and perhaps the way he had treated her --- always taking and never really giving back, made her feel… suffocated or trapped? That wasn’t all of it… but he knew that certainly was a part of it.

Her arms had soon lifted not long after, “Can you not let me feel free for a little while?” She asked, gesturing out words to the room full of other classmates and other kids that attended the schools in the area. Not many had paid attention; it wasn’t the first time someone's girlfriend had a bad trip or was drunk at one of these parties, they were good at tuning it out. Teenagers tend to be good at that; being very selective in things they wanted to give their concern to.

He knew that she had lost trust in him at that moment, but what he did next only added to it.

Seeing the few lingering looks of concern from people he knew, he felt his cheeks get red with embarrassment. He began to shake his head, “Fine… fine, you’re not my problem anyways.” Josh began to say, pursing his lips a little in annoyance at her behavior. “Be free.” He tells her, stepping back and turning on his heels.

Josh had left her alone at that party. He went off to hang out with another girl, and really didn’t think any more of that moment. He had woken up hungover and just unwilling to budge on his anger towards her for being so embarrassing.

Josh still strongly thought that maybe if he had done something more, even just… took her home? If her trust in him would have healed a little. After that point (Y/N) had become much more secretive, she wouldn’t talk to him about personal things any more like they used to. She wouldn’t tell him who she was hanging around with. Josh had… accepted it. It wasn’t like (Y/N) was his girlfriend, nor was she his property. He didn’t need to know those things, but… it was just a full 180 from where they had been before as friends.

Josh took a long breath. Lifting his head from the steering wheel slowly and glancing out the window to his side. Was Jake right? Should he ask her about it? His hand went to his pocket, tugging free his phone to look at it for a moment.

Eventually though, he tossed it to his side. ‘She wouldn’t tell me even if I did say something…’

(Y/N) sat alone on the floor in her apartment, it was so dreadfully quiet in there. Painfully quiet. The sound of the silence rang around in her ears, making her head spin. Head hitting the wall with a thud. "Fuck…" she let out in a small whine, fingers lacing into her hair.

"Oh… fu-fuck…" she continued choking a little as she shuffled quickly to throw her head out over the open toilet. Her body was revolting; it wanted to rid itself of everything it had been carrying in her stomach till this moment… and it did.

As her body began to scramble to get itself back together, a pause came. All that she could think was, 'What a waste of a good lunch.'

Her hands came to rub at her eyes tiredly. She was so goddamn tired… but, she was in so much pain. This was the process. Every time she had ‘stumbled’ back into it again, she always promised herself it would be the last time. She would try to push through withdrawals… only to use again immediately after.

(Y/N) would never accept the truth.

She was an addict.

//I feel like it’s been forever since I wrote for this series! I both missed it and was.... scared of it...?? Don’t get me wrong! I love this series. I think I just have a high set of expectations for myself as I continue to write it --- despite the fact that I started writing it as like just a fun side thing in my time. This chapter especially was giving me a very hard time. Always making me feel like I was stuck in a writers block situation. Think I was just wanting to write it... properly. It felt like an important chapter and I really didn’t want to fuck it up. But anyways, that’s part four guys. Let me know what y’all think!//

#Greta Van Fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #what friends do

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satoruvt · 4 years

Text

for now; forever

pairing → kwon soonyoung x reader

word count → 9015

genre → mostly fluff, angst ↳ tags: ooh boy. firewatch au, banter, like a little bit (a lot) of pining, strangers to friends to… something, FLIRTING, reader’s kinda fucked up but its ok, hoshi’s weird and endearing (as always), a tiny bit of hurt/comfort, minghao best boy, soonyoung is very sweet it makes me want to cry

synopsis → after an unfortunate burnout that lands you in every critic’s negative and all-seeing eye, you decide to take a break from the one thing you know. you’re not sure if you’ll find what you’re looking for out in the middle of the woods - if you’re looking for anything at all - but at the very least, soonyoung will make the hunt a little less lonely.

warnings → there’s eventually a forest fire (starts on day 64 and is mentioned throughout the rest of the fic) that leads to an evacuation but it’s not super detailed, mentions and descriptions of creative burnout/breakdown

a/n → IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! i made a fancy banner nd everything <3 i know 9k isn’t a lot to some people but this is probably the longest one shot i’ve ever written LMAOO so i hope it’s paced ok and everything <33 PLEASE let me know what yall thought about this i am insanely proud of it. ok thats it hehe. hope you enjoy!!! see u on the other side!!!!

btw here’s a fun playlist of songs i listened to while writing mixed with some songs i think reflect the fic super well <33

DAY ONE.

So. You’re… out here, now.

Save for the bugs you have to swat at every fifteen seconds, the outdoors doesn’t seem that bad. The weather isn’t too hot (yet, your mind reminds you) and there’s something about the color of the sky that makes your heart constrict in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s good or bad, but given your luck recently, you’re hoping it’s not a warning for the coming months - God knows you need a break. The weight of the journal in your bag feels heavier than any of the camping gear you brought with you.

You debate texting Minghao that you’ve made it to the park safely, but when you check your phone after deciding yes, you see the words no service instead of the familiar lines of a signal. It’s not that big of a deal - you’d told him when you left that you probably wouldn’t have service at all - but a little part of you feels the tender shake of anxiety at the thought of not being able to contact your best friend.

He was the most worried out of everyone when you told him you were leaving for the summer. You can’t really blame him - it was abrupt, you saw the flyer at the grocery store and took it - but after what happened… doing something felt, feels, better than sitting around and waiting for nothing to happen. Waiting for a healing you aren’t sure will ever come, at least not completely.

“Is this really…” Minghao had started upon first entering your apartment after getting your text. Clothes were thrown all over your bedroom floor in an attempt to pack. “Do you need to do this?”

The tone of his voice told you he wasn’t going to try to stop you, that he just wanted to make sure this was what you needed. You had only nodded, sitting down on the edge of your bed to fold clothes and pack them into your suitcase.

“I just don’t want you to run away from it all,” Minghao said softly, sitting next to you. “You’ll need to face it eventually.”

“Is escaping really such a bad thing?” You asked, looking at Minghao. He gave you the look he did when you said something stupid, and if you weren’t still so wired from everything, you might have laughed. Instead, you sighed, placing a pair of pants into your suitcase. “I just need some time.”

Before you can face it, before you can come back, before you can write again… you still don’t know. Minghao had placed a kind hand on your shoulder to tell you there was no rush.

It’d taken no more than two days for you to get everything ready - including buying some apparently necessary survival equipment from Target. In a matter of a few hours you had gathered everything up, texted some other friends and your family that you might not be available the next few months and then… you left.

(Your manager was pretty pissed off that you left so suddenly, but she was also pissed off at you when you told her you needed a break for at least a few weeks, so you’re not really offended.)

You take one last longing look at your car before locking it, pocketing the keys, and starting on your hike.

The hike takes almost the whole day.

You think you almost cry when you finally see the watch tower you’re supposed to be staying in, your legs barely able to hold the rest of your body up. The hike wasn’t hard, really - long, though, and for someone who usually spends a work day sitting at a desk, you’re surprised you’re still alive. You find the little lock that holds the keys to the tower at the bottom of the stairs, fastened onto the railing. It takes a few seconds for you to enter the code you’d been given earlier, relishing in the soft breeze the cools the sweat on your face and neck. The sun is just barely starting to set beyond the mountains, a beautiful sight that you can’t properly focus on because all you want to do is pass out. You’re pretty sure you almost do on your way up the stairs.

The cabin at the top of the tower is pretty scarcely furnished, save for a few basic necessities (a gas stove rests on one wall, a small desk opposite to it by the door, a mini-fridge, and a bed in the corner plus what looks like a map table in the center of the room). It’s a little weird, a feeling caught between the nostalgia of moving into a new place and something you can’t quite name, but you figure you have a few months to make it all a little more comfortable.

For now, though, you feel like you’re on the last leg of your energy. Your mind is saying eat, sleep, eat, sleep on repeat and you have to agree with it, so you change the sheets on the bed, take down the boards over the windows while you wait for the macaroni from the Kraft box to cook. You end up eating a few forkfuls of poorly-made mac and cheese before crashing.

When you wake up, it’s to gentle static and a semi-clear, unfamiliar voice. It takes you a minute to remember where you are and what you’re doing, too disoriented to even think about the voice, but then - oh. Forest. Watch tower. Escape. Okay.

“Yo, Cottonwood! Am I coming through okay? Pick up your radio!”

Right. The voice. Radio?

“Come on, I saw you get in yesterday, I know you’re there. Unless,” a gasp, “you died! Oh my God, this is like a horror movie… and I’m next!”

You manage to wake up enough to locate your radio (a walkie-talkie resting on a charger on the desk) and, after a few seconds of gentle struggle, work it. “Not dead,” you say, then clear your throat because your voice does not sound good right after waking up. “I mean… almost. But not dead.”

There’s barely a moment of hesitation before the person on the other end hoots, apparently excited. “Arisen from the dead! Brought back to life by none other than the legendary Hoshi!”

A brief thought crosses your mind about having to listen to this guy all summer, but you quickly shoo it away. You won’t have to deal with it for the whole three months, right? “Who… who is Hoshi?”

“Me!” The voice answers, sounding a little too smug. “But it’s really just an alias. You can call me Soonyoung. I’m at Twin Peaks tower, west of yours!”

You spin around your cabin, looking through the windows cluelessly - how long have you been asleep, it’s practically afternoon - until you see a very small silhouette of another tower in the distance. You nod, then realize Soonyoung can’t see you. “Oh. Cool.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?” Soonyoung asks, but his tone is light, breezy. You blink, reciting your name to him in a daze. “Pretty! So, what brings you out here?”

You weren’t expecting that question. “What?”

Soonyoung giggles into the radio. “Everyone comes out here for some reason. Like… Jihoon says it’s ‘cause it helps him write music. And Joshua loves the outdoors, so… what’s your reason?”

“You…” you start, not exactly wanting to tell a stranger the reason you ran away from everything you know. “Do you normally ask this many questions?”

“Yeah!”

You feel yourself sigh, already tired again.

“I… just wanted to get away for a while,” you end up saying. A half-truth. “I live in the city.”

“No way,” Soonyoung gasps excitedly. “Me too! I wonder if both of us have ever been walking and, like, passed each other without knowing…”

This isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you thought of escaping.

DAY TWO.

The next morning, you dedicate time to getting a little more settled into your home for the next few months. You didn’t bring a lot of decor - you didn’t think you needed any - but even seeing your blanket on the bed and a few books you need to catch up on reading stacked on the desk makes the place feel a little bit more like you. You eventually reach the journal you packed (that Minghao made you pack) and stare at it like it might do something. Like it might tell you to write again, or like it might tell you to leave everything behind. You don’t really know what you want from it.

A sing-songed version of your name comes from your radio and you blink away from the journal, set it down on the desk. “Good morning!” Soonyoung says from the other end, and you feel yourself take a deep breath as you pick up your radio and press down the button so he can hear you.

“Morning, Soonyoung,” you respond, calm compared to his excitement.

“So… what are your plans for today?”

“Um,” you pause, brows furrowed, looking towards the direction of his tower even though you know he can’t see you. “Looking out for fires?”

“That’s boring,” is Soonyoung’s immediate response, and you laugh a little.

“Kinda my job for a while.”

And listen, you’ve known Soonyoung for less than a full 24 hours, but even before your brain really comprehends what he’s saying you know you’re not going to like it. “Wait, that reminds me,” he says, tone of his voice a little less overexcited puppy. “What did you do before this? Or, like, what’s your career? I mean, you don’t have to answer, I just thought it could be a way for us to get to know each other…”

His voice fades away for the split second you remember a little too much all at once, but somehow your voice still sounds put together when you speak. “Nothing special,” you say. There’s a pause when you don’t elaborate any further, but instead of asking about it, Soonyoung changes the subject.

“Okay!” he says, back to a more playful tone. “Anyways, I asked about your plans ‘cause I kind of need you to do something for me.”

“Already asking favors?” you tease. “We just met, Soonyoung.”

You hear him laugh, loud and hearty, and it’s contagious even through a radio line so you feel your own smile pull at your lips. “One of the other lookouts found some teenagers with fireworks,” he informs you. “I need you to meet him and get the fireworks from him.”

Your feet are already in your shoes, one halfway tied. “You can’t do this?”

Soonyoung’s voice is strangely thoughtful, but you catch a hint of mischief at the end of his sentence. “I would, but Jihoonie said he’d eat me if I tried to see him again and I think he’s serious this time.”

He tells you where the other lookout - Jihoon - should be and gives you a quick lesson on how to properly use your map to get there. You’re not really excited for another hike this early on (you’re still sore from even getting up here) but by the time you meet the halfway mark you’re convinced it’s not that bad. It’s neither long nor challenging, and… well, Soonyoung’s insistent on keeping you company the whole time.

When you see what looks like a guy at the edge of a now-abandoned camp, you tell Soonyoung you’ll radio him when you’re on your way back to your tower. “Hey,” you call out as you get closer. The man looks up at you, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “Jihoon?”

“Yeah,” he replies. Under his cap you notice that his hair is a gentle silver, almost purple. He’s dressed casually, like you, and you suppose it’s a given since there’s no exact dress code for this job. “You’re the newbie?”

You didn’t know people knew about you. “I.. I guess,” you say, then tell him your name.

“Cool,” Jihoon says, voice flat like he’s distracted. He picks up the bag next to his feet and hands it to you. “Take these. Thanks.”

He starts to walk away, down a trail opposite the direction you came, but you think of earlier, when Soonyoung asked about your job (or when he didn’t). You call after Jihoon, hesitate, but then opt to make this quick since he looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Have you and Soonyoung… known each other for long?”

Jihoon turns around. He shrugs, then nods. “We met in college, a few years ago.”

“What kind of person is he?”

You watch in vague amusement as Jihoon’s nose scrunches up, but the small smile on his face refuses to hide and it makes you giggle. “Really annyoing,” he tells you, then pauses for a second like he’s looking for the right words, “kind of overwhelming sometimes. But he’s good. He’s someone you want around.”

Someone you want around, your brain repeats to you. You nod with a friendly smile as you haphazardly stuff the fireworks in your hiking bag. “Okay. Thank you.”

Jihoon offers an acknowledging nod of his own before continuing on his way back to his tower. You’re about five minutes into your hike back to yours when your radio sounds from your pocket with a now-familiar voice.

“Are you on your way back?” Soonyoung asks. “You forgot to tell me!”

“Sorry, yeah, I am now. I was talkin’ to Jihoon for a second.”

“Really? That’s weird. He rarely talks to anyone, especially strangers. What’d you talk about?”

You can’t help the small smile that lands on your face as you speak. “Stuff to blackmail you with.”

You think you hear Soonyoung’s groan all the way from his tower, and your smile only grows when it turns into a laugh.

DAY FIVE.

The clouds look dark today.

They haven’t covered the sun completely yet, but they’re closing in fast. You hope that it rains, already sick and tired of the disgusting heat, but also. Something else.

Rainy days always used to be the best to write, your brain supplies to you. You brave a glance at the still-unopened journal on the desk, thinking that maybe…

Your radio turning on drags you away from the crack in metaphorical door, coming at the perfect time as if to tell you that you’re not ready yet. You listen to it, grab the radio, murmur a greeting to Soonyoung.

“It’s getting pretty dark out, huh?” He says. He must be looking at the sky, too.

“Yeah,” you hum. “Hopefully the storm isn’t too bad.”

The line goes quiet, but you know that Soonyoung’s still there even if he isn’t saying anything. The knowledge comforts you, just a little.

“Well... got any rainy day stories?”

DAY SEVENTEEN.

“So, Soonyoung,” you call into your radio as you step outside. You’ve taken advantage of the small balcony around the entire cabin, setting up a few chairs you found in the storage unit at the bottom of the tower (just in case someone stops by, you tell yourself) and a small table you weren’t using inside. The nights are hot but still relaxing, and you find yourself sitting outside often, catching up on reading or taking in the stars.

“I can’t believe you radioed me first,” Soonyoung responds, and you hear the smugness in his voice. “I’m so happy!”

Soonyoung somehow almost always manages to be with you in the nights, too, even if not physically. Being away from the urban civilization you’re used to has been a little difficult to adjust to, but you feel significantly less alone whenever you hear him calling you. You tell him to be quiet even though both of you are laughing. The distant crickets make your chest warm.

“What do you do? You didn’t tell me before,” You ask him after a second. There’s a small wave of anxiety that rushes over you at the idea that he might call you out about when he asked you the same thing. That was two weeks ago, though, you think, and Soonyoung wouldn’t. You’re sure he’s been able to tell that it’s a touchy subject. You’re not as discreet as you think you are, even if (and you’ve learned this the past few weeks) Soonyoung’s a bit more on the oblivious side sometimes.

“I dance!”

Somehow, despite having not even seen what he looks like, it’s fitting. “Like… teach, or choreograph, or…”

“A little of everything,” Soonyoung tells you, and then starts elaborating. His voice echoes through your radio and you look up at the stars as you listen to him, trying to map out constellations from memory. He sounds so excited to simply talk about it, you can’t imagine what he must look like when he’s actually on stage. You hope you get to see it one day.

“You’ll have to teach me something sometime,” you say once he’s finished, voicing your thoughts. With a giggle that sounds like the stars above you, he tells you he’d love to.

A moment of quiet passes, spent focusing on the tiny specks of fireflies you see in the field around your tower and feeling the summer breeze as it passes. The words slip out of your mouth with much less resistance than you thought they would.

“I used to write,” you murmur into your radio. It takes you a moment to register the heavy beat of your heart, like you just got back from a run.

“Used to?” Soonyoung asks, curious but soft.

“For now,” you answer. The ache you’ve become familiar with throbs in your chest. “Hopefully not forever.”

It’s not the whole story - not even close - but you figure you might be able to tell him with time. The thought stresses you out even when you have nothing to stress about, and you think Soonyoung is psychic because he says, next, “the stars are really pretty tonight.”

You’re not looking at the sky when you answer. Your head is tilted in the direction of his tower.

“They really are,” you say.

DAY THIRTY-THREE.

You’ve fallen into a bit of a routine with Soonyoung.

Not a day goes by where you don’t talk to him - the one day you radioed and he didn’t pick up you genuinely thought something happened to him, seconds away from calling a park ranger. Right before you actually did it, though, he picked up his radio and said he had been taking a nap.

(His voice was a little groggy from sleep, sounded like he was pouting whether he meant to or not and you’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t make your heart skip a few beats - but if anyone asked, you’d definitely lie about it.)

One of you calls the other around the same time every morning and you don’t put down your radio until the sun is well behind the mountains. You’ve grown used to his presence, in a way, even if you can’t really feel him with you (though sometimes you swear you can). It’s comforting to have him out there with you, and it’s been so long since you’ve talked to someone the way you do with Soonyoung… you find yourself looking forward to every morning, waiting for when you hear him over your radio.

Today is no different.

Well, in an unrelated way, it is - you have to hike to a supply box to get your surplus of food for the next month and a half you have left. But even as you’re doing inventory of what you have left in your cabin on a piece of paper, you’re waiting for Soonyoung’s usual good morning. It comes as always, makes you smile when you hear it.

“Good morning!”

You leave your scratch paper on your desk and reach for your radio. “Morning,” you say after you’ve pressed the button down.

“So…” Soonyoung trails off. “Supply drop day.”

“Yeah,” you reply, sitting on your bed.

“Both of us are getting crates of food today…”

What is he getting at? “Uh-huh…?”

“Both of us… getting supplies… from the same place.”

A confused laugh leaves your lips. “Soonyoung, what is your point?”

Even for as often as you talk to him, you’re still always surprised when he starts yelling. “Let’s meet up!” he exclaims, obviously excited, and it clicks in your head.

“Oh my God, can we do that?”

“Yeah!” Soonyoung sounds like he’s grinning, smile palpable in his voice. “If we pull some strings with the other lookouts and get hiking at the right time, it’s totally possible.”

Holy shit. Your heart is beating wildly, butterflies swarming around it at the thought of meeting Soonyoung in person. “Okay,” you tell him, noting that you sound a little breathless. “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

It takes a few minutes to work everything out - the supply boxes should be dropped off by midday, so you can leave your tower around then and get to the drop location in a little over an hour. Soonyoung has to leave earlier than you since he’s farther away, but if everything goes well the two of you should get to the drop location close to the same time, margin of error small. You radio Jihoon to cover for you while you’re out, and he agrees, although he sounds a bit miffed.

When you finally leave for your hike, you’re not expecting how quiet it is. Soonyoung’s usually there to cover it up with his voice - you don’t hike often (you’ve not had to, given your job for the summer is to watch for fires) but whenever you have he’s been there to keep you company. You plug in your earphones about halfway through your trip just to drown out the quiet, something more to listen to than just trees and the sound of your own footsteps.

Eventually you make it to the supply box, and, well. There’s a guy. Standing in front of a long, green box - you think you see lookout tower names engraved ever few inches: Thorofare, Cottonwood, Twin Peaks. Packing some ready-to-eat meals into his backpack.

Holy shit, Soonyoung? your brain automatically asks, and it sends your heart spiraling up and down. You’re not sure what you thought he looked like, but it wasn’t this. Tall, lean - wait, you don’t even know if this is actually him yet.

Before you can think too much about it, you call out, voice tentative. “Are you… Soonyoung?”

The man turns around, shakes his head with a kind smile. “No,” he says. “I’m Joshua.”

You think about throwing yourself into the river by your tower when you get back for absolutely no reason. Somehow you manage a polite smile and a gentle sorry.

“No, don’t apologize, you’re fine!” Joshua chirps, adjusting the cap on his head. “You’re looking for him?”

You pause. Those aren’t the exact words you would use, but they’re not technically wrong, so you nod. After all, you don’t know what he looks like (you probably should have asked him before both of you left, but you weren’t expecting another person to be here).

“Please don’t tell me he got lost again,” Joshua says, suddenly looking tired, and you look back at him wide-eyed because... again? Has this happened before?

“No,” you tell him. “No, I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Since we both have to pick up supplies he thought it’d be cool if we met up in person.”

Joshua sighs, seemingly relieved, then continues packing what’s left of his supplies into his backpack as he hums. “That’s weird.”

“What is?”

He shrugs. “Soonyoung likes the outdoors, yeah, but the supply box is a pretty far hike from his tower. I think the last few summers he’s had them delivered.”

Oh, you think, and maybe say out loud, because then Joshua’s looking back at you, a mischievous smile on his face.

“He must really like you to come all the way out here,” he tells you, and you laugh like it might get rid of all the thoughts popping up in your mind that you keep telling yourself to stop thinking about.

“And yet,” you say wistfully, looking towards the horizon. “I still come second to Jihoon.”

This time Joshua laughs, a friendly sound, and the two of you fall into a playful conversation. He’s somewhat a superior of yours, though not by a far gap - as the lookout who’s been on the job the longest, he oversees the rest of you (which is you, Soonyoung, Jihoon, and a few others you have yet to come across). You get along with him easily and it’s weird to think that if you hadn’t gone through what you did a few months ago you wouldn’t be here talking to him, establishing what could be a new friendship. You wonder if that’s a new step towards healing, finding a way to be grateful even if it was horrible.

You talk to Joshua for a while until he says he should get back to his tower. You nod, tell him goodbye (and thanks for his company) and he starts to walk away -

“Shua!”

A burst of platinum blonde hair rushes past you from the opposite direction you came from, heading for Joshua. The new guy drops a bag at his feet and almost softly crashes into Joshua, who has this look on his face you can’t really decipher.

“Hey, Soonyoung,” he says, and you blink.

Soonyoung, like… your Soonyoung? The Soonyoung you’ve been talking to for weeks?

You watch as the two hug, Soonyoung excited to see Joshua and completely ignoring you (though you’re not sure he’s doing it intentionally). All you can do is stand there. This is him, your brain keeps telling you. This is the guy.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Soonyoung exclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “How are you? How have things been?”

Joshua shrugs, a small smile on his face as he puts a gentle hand on Soonyoung’s head and starts… petting. “I’ve been good, same old deal. I know that you’ve been doing good too, though, as far as I’ve seen from your reports.”

Soonyoung beams at the praise and you take note of it in the back of your mind (you also note the way Joshua’s treating him like a toddler and how it’s working). He opens his mouth to say something else but looks around and meets your eyes - for a second there’s nothing at all, but then you think you see an exclamation mark actually pop above his head.

The yell of your name is so loud it makes you jump. “Oh my God,” Soonyoung whines, falling to his knees dramatically. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!”

“This is the first time you’ve seen me,” you say. You can’t seem to hold back your smile.

Joshua excuses himself (again) and finally moves on his way, says he’s in Thorofare lookout if anything happens. The sun is mellow on your skin as you look at Soonyoung, take him in - light hair, warm eyes, tan skin. His smile matches your own. A breeze shifts by, slow and sweet.

“Hi,” you say.

Soonyoung grins.

“Hey.”

So the bag you saw Soonyoung drop on the ground before was, in fact, for a picnic.

He didn’t bring a lot of food (the whole point of the hike was to get supply boxes anyways) aside from a few candy bars he’d saved for today. He did bring a blanket, however, and the two of you set everything up on the edge of a rock not too far away from the drop location, under some trees. It looks over a small ravine, a stream cutting through at the bottom.

The time goes by like it was never there in the first place, spent talking and laughing. Soonyoung is just as animated in person as you thought he’d be, telling stories wildly as the two of you snack away a portion of your supplies. You know the two of you don’t have much time together, given how late it already was when Soonyoung arrived and both of your hikes back to your respective towers, but it’s still… refreshing, almost, to be with him like this, to finally get a piece of him you didn’t before. To hear him without the crackle of the radio and to see him.

To see him.

Something stirs in your chest when you look at him lying back on the blanket, arms supporting his head with his eyes closed. The sun lights up his skin in a golden glow, like honey, and the dark roots growing into his blonde hair are somehow endearing. The breath leaves your lungs when you finally label him as pretty. You hope you can blame the heat in your cheeks on the sun.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Soonyoung sighs, still not opening his eyes. You almost reach out to brush the hair away from his face, but a breeze comes by and does it for you. You hope it’s not a sign.

“It would be nice, huh,” you murmur in response. You finally break your gaze from Soonyoung and lean back on your hands, soaking up the feeling of the blue sky.

It’s now that you remember what Joshua had said earlier about Soonyoung usually getting his supplies delivered, and you turn back to him. “Hey, before you got to the supply box, Joshua and I were talking.” Soonyoung hums in acknowledgement. “Is the hike from your tower to here really that bad?”

His voice strains as he stretches, opening his eyes to look at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s a bitch of a hike to take sometimes. But it’s not really hard except for a few spots, just long.”

You furrow your brows. When you agreed to meet him, you didn’t think it’d be this much trouble for him. “And you came all this way so we could… what, sit here and eat? Like we do most of the time anyways? Just separately?”

Soonyoung pouts at you and you feel personally attacked. “Food tastes good when you’re with other people.”

You give him a soft, semi-playful glare, and Soonyoung offers a small giggle. You turn back towards the view in front of you.

“Did you not want me to come down?” He asks, and he doesn’t sound… sad, really, more observant. Like he wants to know where you’re at.

“No,” you answer almost immediately (Jesus, your brain says). “I just… it’s a long trip. It doesn’t really seem like it’s worth the effort.”

Like I’m worth the effort, you think to yourself.

You hear Soonyoung shuffle behind you and turn around to look at him again, finding him sitting up straight. “It is to me,” he tells you, and there’s something in his eyes that holds you in your spot. The tips of his fingers brush against yours on the blanket. You’d look down if you didn’t think you’d miss something. “I wanted to.”

In a second, it clicks.

It’s not much longer until Soonyoung needs to start heading back. The two of you get your things together, and you help him pack up the picnic supplies he brought. When everything’s said and done and the two of you are back by the supply box, there’s a second of uncharacteristic quiet that falls over you.

“Let me know when you get back,” you say after a moment. Soonyoung grins.

“You’re worried about me!” he swoons, and you hit him on the shoulder playfully, but don’t deny it. It can be dangerous out there, and even if Soonyoung has been out here longer than you, anything can happen.

“Just radio me, okay?”

Soonyoung smiles, something a little softer from before. He nods. “I will. You be safe too.”

You nod in return, taking a few steps back towards the trail that leads back to your tower. “Talk to you later, Hoshi.”

The last you see of him before you turn around is the grin on his face.

DAY THIRTY-FOUR.

It feels like forever since you’ve been here.

A window is open and welcomes a distant ambiance of the forest around you, trees and birds and animals. The journal you brought with you is open to the first page, but remains untouched - nothing on the pages. At least, not yet.

(The not yet you always tell yourself seems closer, this time, not so far away. Within reach, or at least within reason.)

Soonyoung had called in that the hike from yesterday had worn him out and he needed a nap. You had laughed fondly at how tired he sounded, told him to sleep well and that you’d be waiting for him. And you feel the words, right at your fingertips, the way the rest and wait to be written. Their presence is both terrifying and reassuring.

You don’t think they’ll be able to bleed out correctly, not the way they used to since it’s been so long. But they’re there, in your mind, in your heart.

You pick up the pen you got out, feel the weight of it as you click it a few times. You tap it on the desk once, twice, and then.

You take a deep breath and start to write.

DAY SIXTY-FOUR.

“Are you lookin’ at the fire?”

Your eyes leave the page of your book at Soonyoung’s voice crackling from the radio, looking around your cabin windows to see that, oh, there is a fire. You’d kind of forgotten that it’s… literally your job. At least there are multiple lookouts.

You fold the corner of the page you’re on as a makeshift bookmark before closing the book and setting it down on your bed as you stand to get your radio. You grab a can of soda from the mini-fridge you’ve started to utilize (as best you can, given it does a mediocre job at keeping things cool) before walking out onto the deck, sitting in one of the chairs you set up. “Now I am,” you tell Soonyoung as you adjust the chair so it faces the direction of the fire. You think you’re the closest lookout to it - which makes the fact that you didn’t notice it even worse - but not in any danger. The smoke paints the evening sky red-orange, washing over the purples and blues the sun used earlier as it set. “You’ve called it in?”

“Yeah, told Josh, who told the higher-ups,” Soonyoung responds, voice strangely… solemn? He sighs his next words. “They’ll probably send a crew in for suppression by morning.”

“Is there a reason you sound sad about putting a potentially dangerous forest fire out?” You tease, cracking open your soda and taking a sip. The carbonation feels good in your mouth, pops on your tongue.

“I’m not!” Soonyoung denies after some sputtering, and you laugh. “Just… ugh, looking at it - I’ve worked here every summer for the past, like, five years, and I’ve only ever seen two fires. Three, counting this one.” His voice gains a certain softness, like he’s lost in thought. “I don’t want the place to burn down or anything, but… don’t you think it’s kind of beautiful?”

It’s a little morally ambiguous, but as you look at the distant, licking flames you have to agree. In the dark, it’s vibrant, more than just ashy smoke and the smell of burning - it glows red, flushes out silhouettes of the trees in between it and you.

“I guess it is,” you hum into your radio as you stare at it.

“So. What should we name it?”

“The fire?”

“Yes,” Soonyoung says, dramatic as always. “She needs a name! I’ve always given them names, but I’ll let you do the honor this time.”

There’s something sweet in the way he offers you the chance to name it, and you try not to dwell on it too much. “Ah,” you start, thinking for a moment. “Barbara. The Barbara Fire.”

Soonyoung howls out a laugh and it’s infectious; you feel the tugging of your lips into a grin. “That is the worst thing that has ever come out of your mouth,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “We are not naming it the Barbara Fire.”

You huff out a fake whine. “Come on, it’s just Barb! She’s beautiful.”

“But deadly,” Soonyoung adds in a voice that sounds like it came straight out of a crime documentary. It makes you giggle, the two of you throwing around silly, stupid names.

“Okay, okay,” you say after a few minutes. “Then… hmm, the Hoshi Fire.”

There’s a long, long pause, and you hold down the button to your radio again. “Uh oh, is he broken?”

Soonyoung’s voice comes through, joking, but you sense a pinch of sincerity. “You want to name a raging forest fire after me… I feel like I shouldn’t be happy but I kind of am.”

You remember to push the button as you laugh, looking directly at the fire and shouting, “I hereby dub thee… the Hoshi Fire!” as loud as you can.

After the laughter dies down, for a second, there’s quiet - not awkward or for the sake of a bit, just quiet. Soonyoung’s not telling a story, you’re not giving witty comebacks. It’s just the two of you and the fire, alone in the forest.

It breaks eventually. Soft, gentle. “I’m glad you’re out here, you know,” Soonyoung says.

His words make you stiffen and relax all at once, and almost on instinct you look in the direction of his tower. You can’t really see the silhouette - the sun too far gone, taking the last of its light with it - but you know it’s there, can pinpoint exactly where it should be. You hope Soonyoung’s looking over at you, too.

And even if the reason you’re here in the first place is still a tender bruise to be pressed, you find yourself recovering a little more every day. “I am, too,” you respond. “I… I wish you were over here.”

It’s a roundabout way to say I miss you, but a part of you thinks neither of you are ready for something that explicit. You reach a hand out in the direction of Soonyoung’s tower, grasping at it like it might bring him to you. It’s not as if you can’t meet up with him again, but… between the distance and the fact that there’s an actual fire to keep your eye on, it certainly wouldn’t be easy. This is the closest you can get for now.

“I wish I was too,” Soonyoung says. You close your eyes to picture him, pretty smile and fond eyes. “We could hang out, like last time.”

“Without the radios,” you add.

“We could, um… you know.”

His words make you giggle, and you feel a little lucky that you’re not holding down the button. Your heart is pounding in your chest, nervous but stable, secure, as you reply. A welcomed beat, even if startling.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Your soda sits forgotten, half-empty, on the floor of the deck by your feet. You don’t bother paying attention to the fire. “What could we do?”

Soonyoung groans and this time you laugh pushing the button so he can hear you, warm and affectionate. “Don’t tease me! You know what I’m talking about.”

You do. “What could we do, Soonyoung?”

There’s a pause, but you know he’s still there.

“Well,” he says eventually. “Let me tell you.”

DAY SEVENTY-SIX.

The fire’s gotten big.

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised by it - it’s a wildfire, they’re not exactly easy to contain, but seeing it up close like this is vastly different from being in a city and barely even noticing the smoke. It is larger than life out here, consuming more and more of the forest each day. The last few days you’ve spent inside due to the low visibility (though it’s not as if you take a hike every day anyways). It makes you wonder if it’s safe to stay out here.

“...Hey,” Soonyoung radios in. “I have a question for you.”

Rationally, you know whatever it is, it can’t be that serious. But your heart picks up pace anyways, beats a little harder as you pick up your radio to respond. “Look, it was Jihoon’s idea to use the fireworks, I promise neither of us knew it would start the fire.”

Soonyoung sputters out a laugh and you match him, feeling yourself calm down. “I’ll… I’ll ask Jihoon about that later, but - I really do have something to ask you.”

You lay down in your bed, unmade and messy. “Is it… bad?”

“I don’t think so,” Soonyoung responds. “Maybe?”

“Okay…” you say, timid. “Shoot.”

“When you first got here, I asked why you took the job,” he says, and you nod to yourself, remembering the first call you got from him. “You just… never really responded. I get it if it’s, like, a touchy subject, I don’t want to pressure you at all…”

“No,” you interrupt before you realize what you’re saying. You take a deep breath, Soonyoung waits. “No, it’s probably… it might be good to talk about it. I’ll tell you.”

He murmurs an okay, tells you to take your time and you do. It’s not like you’re scared to tell him - you’ve come to trust him, you know he won’t judge you for anything that happened or think any differently of you. You’re not even sure that’s why it’s hard for you to talk about - rather than any sort of outside force that might affect you, it’s more… more of a part of you that you felt you lost. It’s more coming to terms - even after these months - and going through the motions. It’s scary to talk about disconnection, especially from the one thing you loved (love?) more than anything.

“I… write,” is how you start, looking at the ceiling of your cabin as you speak. “Or wrote, maybe? I’m an author. I have a few books published. Writing is something I’ve loved since I was so young, it’s… a part of me, really. It’s special to me.

“When I finally got a manager and a publishing company and all that official stuff, I was so excited. It was like I was finally living my dream. I wrote my first book and got it published and it did really well, so my management asked me to do another, and I did. Then they asked for one after that, and I didn’t… it felt too soon, in a way. Rushed. But I guess I did it because I had to, because I figured this just came with being a writer and not everything is what you want it to be - and I didn’t want to risk losing what I had wanted almost my entire life.”

You take a moment to steady yourself, note the tremble of your fingers and take a few deep breaths. Soonyoung waits for you, patient and kind. “It went like that for a while, and I lost touch with writing. I stopped loving the only thing I knew how to love. I was so detached from it. A few months before I took this job my manager set up a press conference for me, and I… kind of… had a breakdown. At the conference. So I’m out here to run away for a second. Be away from it all.”

The quiet that follows doesn’t make you nervous, really, but you’re still waiting for a reply of any sort. Even if it’s the common oh or it’ll be okay that you got from distant friends and relatives who didn’t know what was really going on. But Soonyoung was patient with you, so you can be patient with him.

“Have you written since?” He asks after a minute, and your eyes flash over to the journal on your desk. One page has the familiar strokes and loops of your handwriting, written after you met Soonyoung in person.

“Only once,” you respond, truthful.

“When you start to write again… will you show me?”

And for some reason the question is so tender, filled to the brim with something you want to name. It makes tears spring to your eyes as you look out over the rising fire, trying not to let your voice shake too much as you reply.

(Maybe it’s because he said when and not if, maybe it’s because he didn’t tell you it’ll be okay, maybe it’s because it’s him and not someone else telling you the same thing.)

“Yeah,” you say, letting go of the button to sniff. “Yeah, I will. If you let me see one of your dances.”

You hear Soonyoung’s smile through the radio as he tells you it’s a deal.

DAY SEVENTY-EIGHT.

For the first time since you started working, someone who isn’t Soonyoung calls you through the radio (not counting the time you radioed Jihoon to make sure he was still alive, because you only saw him once and hadn’t heard from him since then). You hear the familiar click that tells you someone’s on the station, and you’re fully expecting Soonyoung’s voice to light up your cabin the way it always does. Instead, Joshua’s voice rings through.

“You there?” He asks after a comfortable call of your name, and you pick up your radio.

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s been a while,” you respond, and Joshua hums. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve… been,” he tells you, which earns a small laugh. “Anyways, I called in to let you know that they’re having trouble controlling the fire -”

You take a look at the giant flume of smoke north of your tower, nodding to yourself. “I can see that.”

Joshua tells you to be quiet. You hear the friendly smile in his voice.

“There’ll be an evacuation team here within the next two days,” he says. “Maybe less, shouldn’t be more. They’re gonna get all the lookouts evacuated.”

Oh. Evacuation? That means… the city. Your apartment, back to your family and friends. You’d forgotten an entire world exists outside of the bubble you created for yourself.

“Okay,” you say slowly, still looking at the fire. “I assume you’ve told the other lookouts?”

“I’ve got a few more to call, but other than that, yeah, everyone’s covered. I told Soonyoung and Jihoon first,” Joshua tells you, and you blink at the fact that you didn’t even have to ask. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Yeah. Stay safe, Josh.”

You sit for a while after that, trying to cope with the feeling in your chest. You… you feel better about everything, about writing, for sure, but. But. It’s cut short, even if only by a little over a week. You haven’t even started packing anything up - so much of you is strewn around the cabin, in the field around your tower, in the trees of the forest you hiked through. You don’t think you’re ready to say goodbye to the place you’ve made your home and the people (person, your heart whispers) with it.

The sun starts to set and the fire grows. You sit on your bed and look at the things you’ve made your own, a sunken, unfinished emotion spreading through you. Eventually it is Soonyoung’s voice that comes from your radio, low and humorous.

“The Hoshi Fire can’t be stopped…” he murmurs, and you laugh despite the loss you feel.

“Please,” you groan into your radio after you’ve grabbed it. “We’re getting evacuated!”

Soonyoung giggles, something mischievous that makes your heart warm with slow appreciation. “I can’t believe it’s ending so soon,” you say, standing up to walk around aimlessly.

“Yeah, the summer went by super fast, huh?” Soonyoung replies. “I’m kind of excited, though. I’ve missed a proper dance studio.”

That’s… oh.

A current of mild surprise rolls through you and you think you physically feel your jaw drop, just a little. That - that hurt. More than you want it to, more than you think it should - but it’s... fine. You’ve only known Soonyoung for a few months, it’s not like…

You realize you haven’t responded and open your mouth on purpose this time. “I wish we could share the sentiment, Hoshi,” you joke, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff.

If Soonyoung notices anything, he doesn’t say it. Only laughs, sweet and genuine. “I’m sure you’ll find something to yearn for just as I yearn for dance,” he says dramatically. You laugh, forced, because yeah, you will. Maybe you already have.

DAY EIGHTY.

Evacuation day.

Last day in your tower. Last day in the forest. Last day of the job you took to escape, to heal. It’s spent packing up the things you brought with you, throwing away everything else. Joshua said helicopters would be touching down at two points - Twin Peaks lookout and Mule Point lookout. Twin Peaks is Soonyoung’s tower, and if you planned it out right, you could probably get there and leave with him.

You tell yourself that the reason you can’t is because Mule Point is closer. Safer. They’re evacuating you for a reason.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil, you think, grabbing your radio from its charging port. “Hi.”

“So,” Soonyoung says. For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems awkward. “Evacuation day.”

“Yessir…”

“What evacuation point are you hiking to?”

You pause, hesitate like you’re about to say something you shouldn’t. “Mule Point,” you manage to get out. “It’s closer,” you say after, your brain telling you to justify it, explain.

“What did the Hoshi Fire ever do to you?” Soonyoung huffs out through a laugh, and it sounds so unaffected that you feel that ache from before again. After a second, he adds, “so… this’ll be the last we talk. At least for a while.”

That realization hits you like a brick and the sting behind your eyes seems normal - regardless of whatever was built between you and Soonyoung or what lead you out here in the first place, it’s so sad that it’s ending. “Yeah,” you say quietly. Everything is packed, you just need to get hiking. “I, um. Is it cheesy to say thank you?”

“Maybe,” Soonyoung chuckles. “But it’ll also make me feel really good, so…”

You feel yourself calm down and let out your own small giggle. Maybe it was always meant to end this way, a little too soon, a little too sad. “Really… thanks, Soonyoung. I think it would’ve been worse for me if I got the silence I came out here for. I’m glad I had you to talk to.”

“Thank you, too,” Soonyoung says back. “I hope… you write again. I’ll talk to you later.”

The mention of it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, and you feel the smallest of smiles on your lips. “Yeah. Later.”

The radio clicks off and that’s the last you hear from Soonyoung.

EPILOGUE.

It’s hard to come back.

From nature, from Soonyoung - everything, really. To go from trees and fires and talking every night back to car horns, busy sidewalks and your own apartment. It’s weird to wake up and not see the immediate shine of the sun through your windows. But you come back, slowly get used to the life you had before.

And you start writing.

Given - you get back in August only start writing again in October, but you write. Little by little, page after page. Maybe not every day, like you used to, but the words are back and they are eager to get out, leave their mark as your work. You stand up to your management (with Minghao’s support) and take control of your own writing schedule. The pressure from before leaves. Writing becomes special more than ever, returns as the one thing you never get truly tired of.

Minghao asks about the job, your summer. You tell him it was easy and peaceful, and that you’re thankful for the time. You mention the other lookouts. You mention Soonyoung. Only in passing, though.

(Minghao definitely suspects something, but even if he asked, you wouldn’t tell him much.)

Sometimes you allow yourself to think of him - when you got back, you looked for a Soonyoung in the multiple dance studios in the city, but since you didn’t have a last name or any proper title, nothing came up. After that, you gave up, but he still shows up in your thoughts from time to time, bright blonde hair (the roots growing in) and glowing smile. It’s cold out, now, so you hope he isn’t getting sick and that he’s staying warm.

You’re reminded of just how cold it is when you have to brace the outside world to get your mail. There’s not even any wind, just an undeniable cold, and it makes your nose burn and eyes water as you walk the short trek to your mailbox. You find your slot and push your key in, unlocking it and gathering your mail. Most of it is junk, but you could have sworn something you ordered was supposed to come today -

“Excuse me?”

You turn your head to the voice and find a man walking towards you, his head turned down towards a small piece of paper. His voice sounds familiar, but you figure it must just be a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in a while. You turn your body to him, waiting for him to look up from the note so you can place a name on him. “Do you know where I can find an author…”

He looks up.

It’s Soonyoung.

He looks a little different - his hair is shorter, dyed black instead of the platinum you remember from last July. But it’s definitely him. The longer you stare at each other the wider his smile gets, and you stand, speechless. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world. Your heart starts to race, warms you up beneath your jacket.

“Found you,” Soonyoung grins. You can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “You did.”

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #CRIES I'M SO EXCITED #THIS FIC IS MY BABY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY IT!!!!#seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung imagine #svt hoshi x reader #svt hoshi imagine #seventeen hoshi x reader #seventeen hoshi imagine #hoshi x reader #hoshi imagine

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simpz-art-stash · 3 years

Photo

A friendship poisoned by bad blood between brothers.

Day 4 - Poison for Starsfic’s prompt list!

Have a lil fic from the rp which inspired these drawings <3

Fang had of course went the same route as she usually did via cloud. Picking up Mei and telling her to wait atop one of the nearby skyscrapers. That she'd stay connected with her via phone call to allow her to listen in just in case. And that she'd call for her help if it felt like backup was needed.

Hopefully that would not end up being needed.

But the closer she approached the peak of the tower, the more her instincts were screaming at her to bail. She could only chalk it up to nerves at that point.

Just seeing his blurry silhouette in the distance waiting for her left her a lil uneasy as she approached.

Red stopped pacing when he caught her approaching. He glared silently at her, trying to look mean. However, the pained look in his eye made the effect more akin to constipation.

"You have 1 minute to convince me I shouldn't just throw you from this roof." He said, hoping she'd be combative and he could explode on her.

"Well you're lively as ever.." Her brows furrowed a little, at least he didn't look like a dead mess inside like she did. Though he did look like he'd been put through a few restless cycles... Stepping off the cloud, her eyes barely glanced around to the garden, her sights set on him. Everything put back as it were as if their little scuffle hadn't happened at all. She stopped a few feet from him, looking just as uncomfortable to be there. "I need you're help. There's something ancient and evil lurking beneath the city working with Spider Queen. And someone told me that you've dealt with it before..." She claimed. "I'm not looking to reforge what we had because I know you're right. That we can't be together...But I was hoping at the very least..that maybe just for this, we could truce?" She looked at him hopefully.

"You're coming to me to help defeat the Spider Queen yet again?? Are you serious!? Are you all REALLY so INCOMPETENT that you cannot just handle her for once!? She's not even that strong of a demon, she just keeps getting lucky!" He snapped. "Why don't you go ask your ole daddy to save the day on this one?? I've got better things to do!" If she would just leave, get angry and run off, he wouldn't have to....

She grimaced at him blowing up at her. Any other day she'd hardly find it all that hurtful to listen to him rage his frustrations into the air about her. But then he had to go and make things personal. And she only barely manged to keep her composure at him throwing her dad into the mix like that. "My dad's missing Red...I can't.." She sighed, crossing her arms as she glared at the ground. "Interesting." A voice of static crackled to life in one of his ears. His father's voice. "Proceed with what we discussed." Red winced at the static in his ear, but tried to pass it off. "Your... dad is missing?" He asked slowly. "UuuuUUGHHH!! FINE! Just... fine, let's sit down, have a drink, and talk it out, Monkey Princess." He waved her to follow over to the table. He reached under and brought out the drink. Rather spicy water, even for him. Ancient and potent looking. He must really feel bad about their break up...

She shot him a glance, almost a little surprised to see him succumb to her words. Honestly thinking he would've told her to just 'get over it' or 'who cares'. This only stoked what little hope she had for them. She breathed out a little, "Thank you.." Before she made her way over with him, sitting herself down opposite to him. Though she'd abstained from drinking for as long as she could, all the stress was just begging her mental status to relax.

He poured the drinks white she was settling, slightly obscured to her when he did. 'Better you than me,' he thought as he dropped in the poison. This was a mantra he'd adopted over the centuries when he started to feel bad about the things he did. This was the first time he didn't quite believe it. He picked up the glasses and handed the poisoned one to her. He sat across from her and took a bigger drink from his than he ever normally would, needing this for courage not to knock the glass from her hands. To her, it would just seem that their falling out was harder on him than he let on.... which was true. Evidenced by him brushing a finger over his old facial scar, something he didn't even realize he did when he was anxious. "So what in the realms could POSSIBLY have you worried about that self-important pestilence infesting the sewers calling herself a queen?" He FINALLY asked.

Though a part of her wanted nothing more than to just drink the night away like it were any other, she knew they had more important business. And considered that through the end of it that maybe it would be better to simply savor what she could of what time they had. Opting for once to speak over her drinking for the first time in a while. "She's working with someone..someone a lot more powerful. An ancient demon with dark magic..." She contemplated aloud, "We think it might've been what gave her the boost she had when she tried to take over the city the first time..but we're not sure." She glanced at him. "You feel it too though don't you? The city has been restless for weeks...something worse is coming." He winced when she didn't immediately start drinking. He did contemplate about the city being restless. "I thought that was just me being a surly bastard." He tilted his head in thought. But now that she mentioned it, yes, for once, it did seem to effect more than just him. He sighed and sat back, swirling his glass, looking bitterly into it. "That would make sense, I suppose. That something bigger than her would be what's allowing her to be more effective at her job than usual." Fang nodded a little, "We've got a name to her but..we're unsure of just how strong she really is. She's managed to put a curse on my brother..an lead my father down a path even I can trace him back to..she calls herself 'The Lady Bone Demon." There was a bit of an avid silence between them before that same gravely tone crackled to life in his ear, "Interrogate her on this enemy." If she wasn't going to off herself then to them then they might as well gain any intel they can on this enemy.

"Lady Bone Demon..." He furrowed his brow, not needing to be prompted by his father one bit on this. "It seems like a familiar name, maybe I've come across her in my research." he shook his head. "But do go on, please." he waved, urging her to divulge everything. "Someone did say that you've dealt with her before. It's why I arranged this meeting in the first place..they claimed that you 'dug' her up from the 'pits of hell.'" She pointed out, not really sure how true it was but she wanted to cover her source as he'd claimed he wanted no part in anything regarding it all. "I'm not pointing you at fault whatsoever, I don't think you'd purposely let someone loose like that just to give them the upper hand...I'm just going on the only lead I have at this point.." She claimed. Red Son's brow furrowed at that, and he wondered how closely his family was listening. It had indeed been the Demon Bull Family to dig up this menace from the depths of the earth. "That's... That sounds like the ancient energy that my father had us dig from the earth... The one that possessed him. The soul reason we blighted our names to team up with the Monkey King and Nyoodle Boy. But we defeated that! Noodle Boy dealt the killing blow!" So he had dealt with it before. "Apparently he didn't finish her like you thought he did, because she's underneath the city working to off us all." Fang stated, "All the signs are there, and this proves it." He shook his head, cursing his father's arrogance under his breath. Not that Red would have done anything different, in fact he was one to help dig the spirit up, proud to help his father in his glorious purpose. However, he was still sore that his father had turned on him and his mother, even if his mother had forgiven DBK. "So now this horrible power that possessed my father, nearly killed me, and already nearly destroyed everything anyone holds dear, is BACK? With the Spider Queen of all people, that DOES explain how that little gnat took the city!" he growled and was on his feet. "So?? What are you doing about it? What sort of measures are you taking to combat this?" She blinked a little in surprise at his sudden boisterous attitude, well at least he was putting his anger towards something more worthwhile instead of taking it out on her. "Weeell..we've got someone currently scoping out the sewers looking for them, in hopes that we'll be able to find out exactly where they are. We've also been looking for any manner of history regarding them, or any relic's that might be of use to us for this specific demon. As well as any other allies..but we haven't had much luck..we're sort of on our own here an I..well can I just be honest with you? I have no idea what the hell I'm doing..." Red had been pacing, but when she got down and honest with him, he stopped. He looked back at her, seeing the scared, vulnerable girl that she didn't let out much to anyone. She'd been working so hard to stop this, and she was floundering, and destined to fail. Maybe it would be kinder of him to end her. Maybe this was for the best. He came back and sat down, nearer to her. "Well. I suppose that..." he sighed. "Dont worry your monkey head about this. I will do everything in my power to stop this demon, then. Not for you!" He quickly amended, remembering his parents listening. "But to avenge my family's honor! Take down anything that thinks it could possibly be greater than the Demon Bull Family! The audacity of this Lady Bonehead." Hus ears were blowing out a tiny bit of steam after his fit of passion. And though it might've made sense to him that it would be best to truce in hopes of taking down such a powerful ancient enemy. His father apparently thought it just as much of a mockery the second time around than the first. Where Red saw logic, Bullking saw the only fleeting chance he had to finally one up his oldest enemy and lose what footing he could to overtaking the city. He didn't need the aid of ANYONE, the Spider Queen had simply gotten the jump on him. But he knew now that was just because of some devious relic. And he wasn't about to tarnish the family name further. So again he had to remind his son who was really making the demands here. "Remember your place child." He warned him, "If you value what little sliver of loyalty you have towards you're family you will do as I say. And follow through with your mission." A small chuckle escaped Fang then, and a tear almost would've escaped her had she not hid it by brushing back her bangs. "That's probably the most relieving thing I've heard all week..." She smiled at him, that glimmer of hope in her eyes in knowing he had her back. Her hand raising her glass to him as a toast, "May we both be victorious in the end." He felt his blood run cold at his dad's chastisement. He knew he wasn't likely to be spared should DBK's wrath overflow. His father had proven time and again that he was more or less expendable. He had a good upbringing, though, and raised his glass to her as well. "May victory smile on the Demon Bull Family." he made as if to drink, but waited to be sure she was drinking first. Then he slammed his drink, standing up. "We'll take it from here. Just rest." he told her, brow twitching in dismay. She took her shot then, her face scrunching a bit at just how strong the after burn of it was before she sighed. "Thanks...I really needed this.." A tired smile stared down at the now empty glass, never the wiser. "I mean it..even if we'll never be able to speak to each other ever again after this. And pretend we hate each other's guts. I'll always cherish those moments spent between us all those years ago...Just so you know..in case something happens to you." She stated her claim, before slowly standing herself upright. "I'll always be here for you man." Oh sure. She was just going to twist the knife in his gut. Curse these goodie two shoes and their sentimentality! And she was outing him more and more to his family! He should have used a stronger poison. What if the alcohol nullified its effects?? "I will genuinely miss you. Forgive me that I don't have your back..." he hunched his shoulders, thinking quickly. His parents didn't have a visual on them, just an audio link, as far as he knew. Before her eyes, he started his agitated pacing yet again. And suddenly, he yanked something out of his ear throwing it to the ground and crushing it under his boot. "I'm so sorry Fang..." She tilted a little at his sudden abruptness to it all, having wondered if he was just getting misty at her being so forward of just how much she'd miss him. But watching his jerking motions prompted a bit of confusion to her. "What're you?-" Then there was a cough that escaped her, and looking back at her would reveal her holding a hand to her throat with a look of discomfort. As if trying to breathe only for further coughing to escape her. "Red?.." She wheezed a little, staring at him with a confused look. He paced a little more, trying to think of anything he could do to stop this. Any antidote. But there wasn't one, that's why they had chosen it. At the cough, he froze. "My father was going to kill me if I didn't--" was all the explanation he offered, before biting down hard on his tongue and turning his back to her. Poisoning was one of his least favorite ways of killing someone. Too personal, too up close. Imprecise and messy. This was DBK's own way of torturing Red, by choosing such a horrible demise. He couldn't look at her, and he turned his back, holding his head up. "I'll take care of things from here. Just rest." he repeated. He tried to look dignified but he was close to throwing up. Further coughing ensued, her fighting just to get any ounce of air in her lungs at that point. Her mind finding it hard to focus on his words but she heard him, and she felt a sharp panic drop in her stomach as a swelling heat rose in her core. "W-what did you-" She tried to get another word in, trying to edge around the table to meet him, but found her limbs betraying her and forcing her to collapse on the ground with a cry. Tears pricked her eyes at the surge of heat that was becoming overbearingly hot within her. Like she'd just eaten a demon pepper, only it was causing her to lose every manner of senses and replace it with pure hellfire. Where all she could do was grip at her chest in agony and let out a wrenching noise as she bellowed out a pleading cry. But that wasn't the only thing that bellowed out of her right then, a plume of red smog began to leak from her nose and mouth. Only furthering her suffering as she choked on it all, unable to breathe in nothing more than the pure rage inducing concoction she'd had forced upon her. A sickened snarl escaped her right then as one of her hands gripped at the ground, clawing at it enough to leave marks buried into the concrete that had forged it. And though her breath was shallow, it warped in comparison to the haunting fury that now laced her breath. "What did you do to me?!!" She screamed. He tried to be cold and cool, aloof the way his mother had taught him to be. A strong man, not a quivering, weak boy. But when he heard her collapse on the ground choking he let out a pained cry of his own, ducking his head and covering his ears. He should have just let his father kill him. It would have been preferable to this! His only friend choking to death behind him. His eyes squeezed shut, causing tears to fall that he hadn't realized even welled up. The last scream made his blood run cold, a particularly horrid sensation for a man so hot. Something was different about her voice at a primal level, and it caused him to spin around to face her. Any pretense he had held before this point was gone, and his face was just that of a sick, scared child. "Fang!" Another pained cry left her curled in on herself as she almost looked like she was having a stroke. But that couldn't of been farther from the truth as a wicked sense of something horrid radiated off of her, like a mix of dark magic and death. A whimper escaped her as her fur began to warp from its pure sunshine blonde to a morbidly dark black, her hands involuntarily flexing in on themselves as she let out a haggard breath. "I trusted you..." It was low, warped and hollow, and through it all somehow she forced herself up onto her knees. If not to just look back at him with a look he'd only seen her wear the first time they'd met when he'd fought for his life and given her that horrid scar of hellfire. A look a pure primal rage.

#my art #my fics #Sun Wu Fang #OctoberMASH #Red Son #LMK #Lego Monkie Kid #ain't no proof readin' on dis BITCH #JUST RAW RP

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