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rosalineandrosemary · 3 years

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he reached for the sun, and the sun took his hand.

Ao3

There are benches both inside and outside of their school, even without counting the cafeteria, but they’re all encompassed by the hustle and bustle of their school. And so, when Marinette starts walking away from the school after the lunch bells ring, Felix follows like a moth to a flame. She walks past her house, waving at her maman through the windows of the bakery, and he waves too, stiffly. Her maman smiles at them, and points to the display cases to ask if they want anything. Marinette shakes her head and raises the bag she’s holding, to which Mme. Cheng nods, and they keep walking.

Marinette stops them at one of the benches in the park, and sits down in the shade. He sits down without prompting, and Marinette beams at him, a smile that could challenge the sun. He freezes and looks away, trying to hide the warmth growing in his cheeks, and pulls his lunch out of his bag.

“Did you hear what Lila was saying in class today? Talking about her latest trips to far off places but all the images she showed you can find online with five minutes of searching. Like, it’s nice to sit by you during class, but sometimes I wish I could still sit by Alya in the seat we earned, you know?”

He hummed in agreement, perfectly content to let her talk while he ate his lunch, but she instead let the statement hang in the air before pulling out her own lunch.

The silence was companionable, broken only by remnants of conversation from other small student groups and the laughter of some of the playing children. Around halfway through their allotted lunch time, Marinette puts away her containers with a content noise and a full body wiggle before pulling her sketchbook from the confines of her backpack. “Do you mind if I sketch? I have a couple ideas for some outfits that I really want to get down!”

“Feel free.”

“Thanks, Fe!” She smiles again and he’s lost in it, left staring even after she’s turned away. It’s as if her smile is burned into his eyes, an entoptic phenomenon that steals his breath from his lungs. By the time he pries his eyes away, Marinette is already immersed in her designs, her tongue poking out from between her lips. He reaches into his bag to pull out his book, but none of the words stick in his mind, eyes trailing back to stare at Marinette’s quiet joy.

Eventually he gives up, placing his book back in his bag and sitting there, staring into his own personal sun, sitting right next to him. The ice in his chest is melting into a pooling ocean and it feels like he’s about to overflow with it, surface tension being the only thing keeping his feelings from spilling out and he can’t bear to stare at her for any longer.

He tears his eyes away, trying to turn the water back into ice, to freeze the feelings back in his chest and keep it contained, but there’s too much water and too many feelings and even if he can turn some of them into icebergs it doesn’t change the amount of water and finally everything comes spilling out.

“It hurts to look at you sometimes, Marinette.” His words, soft as they may be, break the silence between them. She turns to look at him, endlessly blue eyes piercing into his skin, eyebrows furrowing with worry, an expression he’s seen time and time again: when he gets too close to akuma fights, when the bags under his eyes are darker and he forgoes his usual coffee order for something with more caffeine, or when she’s worrying about other people and he gets to watch the all-consuming flames of her care.

“Felix?” Her voice is soft and confused, and it takes everything within him to not turn to look at her, to not let the words freeze on his tongue, to not shove everything he’s feeling back underneath his infamous “ice prince” persona that she so carefully took apart.

He watches her out of his periphery, continuing to stare ahead and try to figure out how to melt the ice in his chest that he had tried so hard to freeze. He can’t take this back now. He can’t leave her with just that phrase, not with the twists and turns and dark corners all throughout her brain. “You’re incandescent, a sun of your own volition, and I fear that I am forever just going to be orbiting you at a distance.” He tightens his grip around the strap of his bag, white knuckled and shaking softly, before releasing it and stretching out his fingers. Felix sees her move, place her hands down on the bench, moving to get up, to stare him in the eyes. Her mouth is opening, an indignant cry of his name on her lips, and he feels like he’s going to burn from the inside out.

“Please,” he croaks, voice unsteady. “Please, let me finish, Marinette.” His tone is worrying her even further, and so are his words. It’s written plain on her face, a book she never chose to lock. Her emotions are her strength and it’s awe-inspiring to see from inside his several layers of ice, carefully frozen to keep everything locked inside. She continues to melt it with ease, leaving him scrambling, but he needs to tell her.

“Try as I might, I can’t keep this in any longer. I feel as though I am bursting at the seams, combusting. You melted the walls and pillars of ice I formed for years, nosing your way into every nook and cranny of my being, and I believe I have fallen for you.” Marinette lets out a soft gasp and he turns away, lacing his fingers around the strap of his bag once again.

He can’t bear to see the look on her face when she rejects him. Disgust? Horror? Her quiet kind of upset, where her eyes fill with tears and she tries to stifle it, to push away her own feelings over and over again?

He keeps talking, a desperate bid to keep himself away from the truth for as long as he can. “I apologize for the hastiness of my confession, and I hope I didn’t upset you too much. I’m sorry if I did, I truly had no intention to, but I understand if you reject me and I’d even understand if you never wished to see me again, I just wished to--”

“Felix.” Her voice stops him in his tracks, body tensing. “Felix, do you mind if I touch you?” Her voice is soft and her words kind but he flinches regardless, giving a jerky nod. He didn’t expect her to want to touch him, not after he ruined their friendship, but he tensed further as he thought of all the power contained in her body and prepared for backlash. He knew, intrinsically, that someone as kind as Marinette could never hurt someone maliciously, but that knowledge fell into the chasm of fear in his chest, and all he could hope was that she would choose to spare him, even a little.

One of her hands enters his line of sight and he flinches, closing his eyes, before her warm hand is placed softly on his cheek, slowly turning his head to face in her direction. “Felix, I could never be upset with you for that.” Her tone is impossibly tender, her hand is still cupping his cheek, and he exhales slowly before opening his eyes.

There are tears dripping down her cheeks, rolling down to the beaming smile stretched across her lips, and she raises her other hand to hold his face like he’s something precious. “I adore you, did you know that?” She smiles even brighter, looking him in the eyes before continuing.

“Each pen has a specific place in your pencil case, and you change which pen you use each school period. You take your coffee with cream and sugar even though you say it’s black when anyone asks. You pretend you’re made of ice because it’s everything you’ve known, but you still care even if it’s not in your best interests. Everything about you is something to love, and I do. And you’re here. Despite everything, you’re here, not orbiting some foreign sun or wasting away in a cavern of ice. You’re right here, with me, and I am holding your face in my hands and you are beautiful.” She’s still crying, tears catching the sunlight, and she presses her forehead to his but it’s just warm. Nothing burns and she is so close and she’s not a sun, she’s simply Marinette, and he loves her more than anything he’s ever known.

“Thank you, Marinette.” Those words, choked out his throat, try to compact everything he’s feeling into one simple statement. The love, the awe, the feeling of reaching something he never thought he would be able to reach, the pure joy filling in every gap where fear laid just moments before, like the sun rising over Paris. But instead of being that sun, Marinette is here and she is right in front of him and she is watching the sky turn pink and the darkness retreat and it may be noon but he thinks this is the prettiest sunrise he has ever seen.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Felix.” He smiles at her, leaning against one of her hands, placing his own on top of hers. He feels ridiculous holding his own face but she brightens impossibly more and there is blush flaring on his cheeks and he tries to look away but she’s still right there.

“Well then, how about saying I love you instead?” He tries to put confidence in his voice, but he is putty in her hands and she can tell, her smile turning from something big and beaming to something small but so fond it almost makes his chest ache.

“I love you too, Felix.” And she locks eyes with him and looks down and he tries to nod but forgets that she’s that close and bumps heads with her instead.

Marinette laughs and it’s joyful and he just stares at her and hopes that she can see the fondness building in his chest when he looks at her. She stops laughing and her cheeks flush to a pink color that he thinks could be his favorite color. Every part of her is his favorite color. The blue color of her hair in the light, the blue color of her eyes, the color of the faint freckles on her cheeks and the pink of her blush and he’s staring again, he knows he is, but she just smiles and places her forehead back against his.

“Can I kiss you?” She whispers it, like they’re in their own little world, and he presses forward and kisses her first. Her lips are soft and she tastes like a fruit flavor he can’t quite recall, not with her hands on his face and her lips on his.

There aren’t fireworks, or sparks. There’s no burning or fire or hurting. There’s just him and there’s Marinette and a feeling of home and rightness like everything he’s ever wanted.

He breaks away first, offers another whispered “I love you” against her lips before she pulls away too, far enough away that he can actually see things beyond her eyes and her cheeks and her hair.

She moves one of her hands and he lifts his so she can take it back, and she puts on a mock-serious face that can’t hide the joy in her eyes.

“If you ever talk about yourself that way again I’m going to fight you.” She waggles one finger at him, lips curling to conceal her laughter, and he raises his eyebrows even as he melts further into her remaining hand.

“You’re going to fight me?”

“Yes! With love and affection and pets.” He doesn't get a chance to ask what she means by pets before her nails are scratching through his hair, and he wished he could deny the way that his eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

“You make a formidable opponent, my dear.” She giggles, moving to scratch behind his ear before the alarm goes off, telling them that they have to make their way back to school if they don’t want to be late.

She reaches her hand out to him and he takes it, lacing his fingers between hers.

#felinette #this is the wip i was ignoring!! i finished it!!#thank you notte and nebula for beta-ing!!!!#marinette dupain cheng #pv felix #miraculous ladybug #rosaline writes

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aquarii-writes · 3 years

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Memories (Foolish x GN reader)

Notes: heavily implied AFAB as well as Reader being given different variations of momma/mommy. This turned out a bit sadder than I intended fuckin hell

WARNING: Death, pregnancy/after birth

Genre: angsty

WC: 1,864

Memories meant the world to Foolish. The memory of meeting you, your first kiss, and when you first spent the night were ingrained in his head. They were everything to him; especially since one-day he knew you wouldn't be here again.

Though seeing you now with his son? This might be the most special yet. Your baby boy sat wriggling in your arms. His eyes had yet to open but Foolish could already guess that they'd be green like his.

The baby's skin was already shining a gold color once all the blood was wiped away from his body. Tears fell from Foolish's eyes as he got closer to you. Sweat lined your forehead but you couldn't have been more beautiful.

"Can.. can I hold him?" Your husband's voice broke as he spoke to you. With a gentle chuckle you allowed your husband to take the baby in your arms; your precious son.

Holding the bundle in his arms, Foolish swayed to try and get Jr to open his eyes. "Common buddy. Lemme see your eyes" Foolish cooed at his son.

Puffy attended to you. Your bleeding had yet to stop but so far it was normal, just needed a few stitches to patch everything back up.

Jr kept wiggling around in his father's arms. Poor thing just wanted his momma so he cried out for them. Jr's crying broke his father's heart, did the baby already not like him?

With a swift hushing Puffy pulled the baby boy away from his father and placed him back to his momma.

"Dad?" Puffy turned to her son, a curious look settled on her features. "Are they supposed to be this tired? I know birth is hard but-"

Puffy cut off her boy. "Everything (Y/n) is experiencing is normal bubs. They'll get their strength back in due time"

But that was nearly two months ago. You had suddenly grown weaker. Puffy couldn't find a reason nor could Ponk. The two of them checked you over and over yet still found no reason why you got so sick.

However your baby boy kept getting stronger. After you and Foolish were home and got back settled into a routine Jr quickly found comfort within his father's arms. Sweet thing was passed around between aunts, uncles, and grandparents but he would cry and scream towards everyone of them till he was back in your or Foolish's arms.

Though Jr seemed the sense that his momma was getting weaker. His glassy eyes would only stop when he found you.

Time seemed to work in Foolish's favor. He tried everything he could think of but nothing seemed to make you better. Till eventually just four months after Jr was born you started to finally get better.

So everything got better. You started to become yourself again and eventually the two of you had another child. A baby girl named Fin.

Jr was around a year and a half when his sister was born and the boy wouldn't stay still as he wanted to see you. Once everything was said and done Jr couldn't wait to see his momma and sister.

His jumbled sentences calling for Foolish to let him see momma. "Calm down we're gonna see momma" papa's chuckles made Jr smile. Once finally in the room Jr cuddled up to you and asked to see Fin.

Finley was wrapped in Jr's old baby blanket and small fins poked out from her head and back. Tiny little scales littered parts of her skin and looked like freckles. She looked more like a shark than a totem, but she was very much still Foolish's daughter.

A familiar worry bubbled up in Foolish's stomach. Would you get sick again like you did after Jr's birth? Birth will always be hard, but maybe it was easier this time now that Finley was a second baby.

Sensing his worry you waved for your husband to come over. "I'll be okay love-" the sweetness in your voice could've made him cry, "But incase something happens promise me that you won't neglect the babies. They will need their father"

Foolish's kisses lingered longer than he intended. Your two children were now asleep in your arms, but Foolish still worried. Your smile, albeit rather tired, was still bright.

"Can I hold her?" the line brought a sense of nostalgia. A gentle smile rested on your face as you held your daughter out to your husband.

"Of course my love"

Rain fell in waves as your daughter slept against her father. He held an umbrella over himself and Jr. The little boy didn't understand what was going on but kept crying that mommy wouldn't be able to get up if they were in the dirt.

While somber Foolish didn't let his tears fall till well after his children's bed time. Finny was only 4 months old and Jr was almost 2 a widow in just a matter of months.

The atmosphere was somber as Puffy picked up her grandson and attempted to explain that mommy won't wake up again, but just gave up in the end. Silent tears would just run down the rams face.

Foolish wouldn't leave your grave for a while. His arms numb from holding his baby girl but she was still asleep; it was only her whimpers to the cold and rain did he think to finally return inside.

Once the children were down to sleep did Foolish finally let out a sob. Heart wrenching cries filled the living room as he poured his heart out to his hands. You had written a letter before you passed and he couldn't bring himself to read it, at least not now. Not after he had to bury you.

Memories meant everything to Foolish, and he didn't think that he could forget you any time soon. Though he could still see you from these memories and from your letter and he could still physically see you in your children.

Jr had your hair though it was much darker while Finny had your eyes. Beautiful (e/c) eyes always shined through the little girls iris'. He could see you in how Jr acted and the way he touched his sister; always so gentle just as you had taught him to be. Finny would always reach for the things she knew were yours.

It just brought him to tears however Foolish knew new memories would be made with you still in them. Your beautiful eyes and personality will always be present in your children.

After a few years, once he got a handle of caring for two children on his own, Foolish finally opened your letter. Elegant script was written on the page.

'My Dearest Foolish,

If you're reading this then I've died. Whether it be not long after I write this or after a long life I am still dead, though I have a feeling its the former. How have our children turned out? I don't know if Jr will understand and Finley will have no memory of me... Does Finny still have my eyes? Is Jr still gentle with Finny? I know little boys can be so rough..

But aside from such please know that I love you. If I held the choice I would've stayed longer, but I'm on my last life. Maybe Lady Death could give me a pass? Maybe I could come back and see my babies? Oh if I continue thinking like this I'm going to cry..

I love you more than anything in this universe and I love our children all the same. I know that some day you'll find another to love, maybe it'll be me reincarnated? Just.. don't dwell on my death too long, if not for me for our children. Jr and Finny deserve to see their father happy.

I do hope that the both of them know I love them very much.. I know memories mean everything to you so please make new ones with Jr and Finny. Let me live on through them.

Forever with love, your dearest (Y/n)'

Tears fell on the aged parchment. It had been weathered before, presumably from your tears, but new wrinkles formed. Foolish has new memories. Your children did keep you alive within them.

Finny's eyes, while hers, were still yours. Her eyes shown just as bright as yours once did. While Jr is as gentle as ever with his baby sister. Snowchester was a new home for them all when you died, but it now means so much to the babies.

Foolish covered his mouth as he leaned over the coffee table. He didn't notice the tiny feet padding towards him. Finley's small hands gripped at her fathers fore arm. Big (e/c) pools stared into him.

Acting as though he wasn't crying Foolish dried his eyes and picked up the little girl. "What are you doing here sweetheart?"

"I got cold" Finny mumbled to her father and curled into him. Her scales had turned a golden color after you had passed. It was a shame you couldn't have seen how pretty Finny turned out to be, even at 5.

"Where's bubbas then?" evening out his tone Foolish sat back with Finny. The snow outside had started back up again to add a new layer to the landscape.

"Bubba is playing with Michael still. Mr. Tubbo and Mr. Ranboo asked if I wanted to come inside, but I wanted to play with you" Finny looked up at Foolish. She was tired and wanted a nap so she cuddled further into her father.

"Well you look pretty tired, sweets, how about we just go to sleep?" Finny shook her head no and stared at the open letter.

"Why were you crying daddy?" Finny's voice was quiet. Almost like she wasn't supposed to ask the question.

"Well... I was remembering mommy and reading a letter she gave me.." squeezing his girl, Foolish rested his head on hers. Jr nor Finny had ever really asked about their mother.

"What was mommy like? Mr. Ranboo says she was really nice before she went to sleep for a long time.." Finny played with the ends of her hair as she spoke to her father. Memories of you flooded his mind. The most prominent thing was how loving you were. You gave up all 3 of your lives for people you cared for.

"Well.. mommy loved you and bubbas very much. She loved a lot of people. Mommy was also very kind and helpful.. She would do anything to make sure people were happy-"

"Do I look like Mommy?" Finley gazed at her hands. The golden freckles that glittered her skin were something she had seen on no one else.

"You look a lot like mommy, Finny" Foolish lied through his teeth. She had your eyes but looked very similar to him over all. But if his little girl is happy then what of it?

Seemingly satisfied with her prodding Finny became silent again, and soon enough her little snores alerted Foolish to the fact that she was asleep.

I don't think I'll ever forget you (Y/n), but Finny sure won't let me try

#mcyt imagine #dsmp imagine #foolishg imagine #foolish gamers #foolish x reader #foolish x y/n #dream smp #mcyt #dsmp #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader

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younganarchist · 2 years

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I daydream a lot, but refuse to write them, because I get mad it's not perfect.

ANYWHO, here's this twisted wonderland world I have.

So far I have seven female oc's, one being a staff member. In this world Yuu is still present, but not as the mc of the world. Each character have their own story / love Intrests. These girls were saved from dire situations by a woman called Mistress Nadia, and in turn, she made a coven. (These are witches by the way, they aren't overly different was wizards in this world, but like, they also are? idk) Eventually, she sends them off to NRC in order to help the headmaster start a coed program. Here's our lovely girls. Also as an FYI, I'm so bad at last names, so no one has one lol.

THE FOLLOWING ISNT PROOFREAD, THERE MAY BE TRIGGERS

Nerissa

Octavinelle

(siren mer thing)

Unique Magic :

Shockwave -

Can feel soundwaves and manipulate them, works best when she's singing

Also specializes in volcal magic

Year : 2

Age : 18

Height : 5'8

Looks : medium light brown hair, piercing blue eyes, fangs, sharp features, scars

Siren Form : hair has blue throughout it, scales, muted blue tail with some green, pointed ears, fangs get sharper

Dress : grungy ish, can dress well if she feels like it, doesn't really give a shit though

Love Intrest(s) : Jade and Flyod Leech (They share her, nothing between the two) Azul Ashengrotto (enemies to lovers? bullies to lovers? rivals to lovers? idk theyre all just toxic and red flags)

Malvolia

Unique Magic :

(snek)

Medusa's Gift -

Can turn someone into stone or make them freeze in place.

Fangs have venom

Year : 2

Age : 18

Height : 5 ' 6

Looks : tight curly hair, green at tips, fangs, mixed skin, scars, tattoos, green eyes, scars

Dress : pretty fashionable unless she's tried, then she just throws on whatever, sticks to darker and muted color pallets

Love Intrest(s) : Doesn't need a man when she has herself. Has Intrest in Kalim but definitely won't say anything for a VERY long time

Celeste

Savannaclaw

(ram hybrid beast men thingy) (I have so many ram oc's why did I do this again)

Unique Magic :

Clouds -

Like Aries for Fairy Tail, can produce a Fluffy cloud

Specializes in Celestial Magic

Year : 3

Age : 19

Height : 5 ' 3

Looks : shoulder length hair, light ginger, curly, ram horns, ram tail, plus size, nice hips, stretch marks, freckles, chestnut eyes, bottom and top fang things (crocodile ones?)

Dress : a mix between lighter and darker aesthetics, really can't choose, pretty artsy / natural

Love Intrest(s) : Leona Kingscholar (Guy falls first, kinda slow burn)

Lilith

Diasomnia

(Vampire, will bite you bc she can)

Unique Magic :

Slowdown -

Time slows down when someone goes to attack, giving her time to evade

Specializes in Blood Magic

Year : 3

Age : Ancient

Height : 5'1

Looks : blonde hair, long, keeps it in pony tails a lot, red eyes, VERY sharp fangs

Dress : goth.

Love Intrest(s) : Lilia (Second Chance)

Echo

Pomefiore

Unique Magic :

Year : 2

Age : 17

Height : 5'9

(uses She / They)

Looks : very pristine, long legs, afro, dark skin, heterochromia (green, brown)

Dress : should be in fashion school, drop dead gorgeous

Love Intrest(s) : None, they're ace

Clove

Heartslabyul

Unique Magic :

Flower Power -

Can grow flowers where she pleases, some even only exist with her magic, specializes in making one choke on them, like that one thing

Year : 2

Age : 17

Height : 5'5

Looks : wavy medium hair, hazel eyes, freckles (light) hip tattoo of flowers. definition of small but deadly

Dress : wears flower crowns a lot, sundresses, soft girl aesthetic

Love Intrest(s) : Cater Diamond / Trey Clover (Friends to Lovers)

Vivian

Staff

Unique Magic :

Healers Delight - Can heal someone with the cost of her own energy.

Age : 30

Height : 5'2

Looks : flat dark hair, thin eyes, brown

Dress :

Likes : her culture

Dislikes :

Love Intrest(s) : None (Kinda)

I mainly focus on Nerissa, Celeste, and Clove at the moment, because it's all my brain wants to focus on, if anyone wants to know more about any of those three lmk.

Nerissa ? Red flag, just like her lovers

Celeste ? So sweet, "innocent" ig

Clove ? Looks like a sweet doll, would argue for hours

#maladaptive daydreaming #various twst #twst #twisted wonderland #oc x twst #original character #polyamourous #i dont even know that much about the canon storyline #someone please explain it to me

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curiousscientistkae · 3 years

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oh yeah since I have new peeps here is a rundown of myshe ra kiddos +finally adding some i never talked about. Ages are just to show gaps between kids, they are not "canon". Under the cut stuff. I uh....ramble

Glimmadora:

Harper-20, eldest daughter/child. Born Feb 1st. She/Her, Demi-Bi. Heir to Brightmoon, gets called 'AJ' (Adora Jr) a lot by Glimmer since she looks and acts a lot like Adora. Has shoulder length two toned blonde hair (top half light like She-ra, bottom darker like Adora) with sparkles at the edns, sparkling purple eyes shaped like Adora's, tan skin like Glimmer, glasses, sometimes wears a hearing aid in her right ear. Has cream/purple wing markings on her back that later will turn into feathery cream wings with purple tips.

Sound based powers (cause my brain was like light and sound) but still can create light stuff they just make sounds also. Also can turn invisible. Being unable to control the powers as a toddler, she lost her hearing in her right ear. Everyone in the family knows sign language.

Smart af, witty, as the eldest of all the kids can be protective to a fault, anxious, wants to not fuck up and be a great queen. Will overwork herself and is a perfectionist, though can be forgetful. Is a great shoulder to lean on/be listened to.

Grows to 6' (she got them angella genes (who is alive in this au, not micah) and athletic build like Adora. Named to match the 'er' at Glimmer's name, her sound powers, and the Lyra constellation. Glimmer was the one to have her.

Mira-13, youngest daughter eldest twin. Born July 9th. She/Her, Lesbian, about 5 mins older than Micah. Powerless Princess. Got her great aunt and grandpa's hair color, pale skin (same as Adora), ice blue eyes shaped like Adora's, freckles on face. Usually has hair in ponytail held up by that butterfly pin from princess prom. Also almost always has a red cloak around her. Called 'Mimi'

Born with no magic and not connected to the moonstone (long story short in my au, First Ones cannot use magic without help or it will kill them. Mira got the most FO genes thus she cannot use magic. Whole ass idea i need to explore). Tries to make up for it with fighting skills. While she doesn't show it a lot, she hates the fact she is powerless and will not grow wings either.

Clever, rebellious, loves to explore. Can have a temper to her, wears her heart on her sleeve. Natural born leader. Butts heads with her mothers the most and has run away a few times (once for a very very long time heh). At the end of the day, she doesn't want to be in the shadow of anyone/wants to make her own mark.

Grows to 5'6", chubby build like Glimmer. Named to match the 'ra' in Adora's name and the 'Mi' in Micah's name. OG she was going to have healing powers before I got rid of that so it was also sort for Miracles. 'Mira' is a star, one that is an actual shooting star. Adora was the one to have her

Micah-13, youngest child only son. Born July 9th. He/Him and They/Them. Demi-Boy. Bi, about 5 mins younger than Mira. Has spell powers. Messy, chin length dark purple hair (the same shade as the bottom half of Glimmer's hair), sky blue eyes with sparkles and shaped like Glimmer's, freckles on face. Light tan skin (between his sisters). Has purple wing markings on back and later will get purple feathered wings. Called MJ (Micah Jr) or Mickey

Like his grandfather, great aunt, and Ma before him, he can use spells. Struggles with it but eventually learns he is best at defensive ones. They look up to many of the guards in the castle and wants to be one when he grows up.

Quiet, soft spoken, nervous boy. Def keeps his twin sister from doing something totally stupid. Trusting, sometimes too much, can hold grudges if wronged badly. Tries to see the best in others. Named to honor his grandfather, they want to live up to them and be a great sorcerer

Grows to 5'11, more avg/a bit stocky build. Named to match the 'Mi' with Mira and as Micah is dead in this still (i made them a long time ago) after him. Adora was the one to have them.

Scorpia's Kid

Onca-13, only child of Scorpia. Born May 4th. They/Them. Non-binary Pan. Magicat/Scorpion. OG a scorptra kid but Catra no longer with Scorpia. Has medium length snow white hair, usually in a small pony tail, light brown skin, amber eyes (only iris has the color not the whole eye). Cat fangs and white cat tail. Has those scorpion shouler pads and venom their fangs (not as strong as their mother's) and blue blood. No fur. Called 'Onc' or by Scorpia her 'Lil' Kitling'

Has electrical powers like Scorpia. Venom will only make the part they bite numb, does not fully knock anyone out. Is quick on their feet.

Laid back, quick to adapt, resting bitch face, can be a little lazy, sometimes acts without thinking, and easily distracted. Before growth spurt, they were small and grew a hatred of being seen as always needing help. Just a gentle giant really.

Grows to 6'3, strong build like Scorpia. Named after the latin species name of the Jaguar.

(i so need to work and the following kids more rip)

Bowfuma

Robin-18, eldest son/child of Bow and Perfuma. Born March 20th, He/Him. Gay. Dark brown skin, dark brown, short hair, dark brown eyes. Wears glasses. Has plant powers. Called Robby. Heir to Plumeria.

Plant powers are a WIP kind of, might be like Perfuma or a little dif but is connected to the Runestone. Knows some archery but prefers a crossbow.

Self assured, he knows who he is and what he wants to do, fair-takes both sides of an argument into account. Is the least likely to cause shit. Can be messy and hates when his things are moved. Procrastinator.

Grows to 6', lean build. Named after both Robin Hood, the archer, and the bird

Eliza-16, only daughter. Born Sept 15th, She/Her, Aro/Ace. Dark brown skin, dark brown hair in two braids, dark brown eyes, freckles. Needs glasses but wears contacts. Powers allows her to talk to animals. Called 'Liza'.

Also connected to the runestone, Eliza and talk to animals. She actually started to talk to them before speaking to her parents. When she talks to them, to others it sounds like she is making the animal sounds.

Passionate and loves animals. While her cousin Mira puts her energy into trouble, she puts it into being outside and building things or helping her mom and dad. Hates being stuck inside. Can be whimsical. Loves to be challenged and doesn't back down from stuff, even when maybe she should. Can be a bit dense.

Grows to 5'8", lean build. Named after Eliza Thornberry.

Ash-15, youngest of their siblings. Born Nov 23rd. He/She/They genderfluid. No real label-uses queer. Medium brown skin, medium length, wavy blonde hair, dark brown eyes. Freckles. Has no powers but does not mind it at all.

Unlike his younger cousin, Mira, Ash does not care they do not have powers or are not next in line for the thorn. They are happy to just learn from their father or others. Kind of a jack of all trades.

Has a big heart and a love for all life. Once she is set on something, she sees it through to the end. Very observant of the world and what goes on in it. Can be impatient and doesn’t always take things seriously. Jokes way to often. Free-spirit

Grows to 5'10", thin build like his mom. Named after the type of tree which you could use to make a bow.

Seamista

Newt-18, oldest and only son of Sea Hawk and Mermista. Born Dec 11th, Trans Man He/Him, Pan ace. Dark brown skin, dark brown eyes, short blue hair. Has no runestone powers but can still turn into a merman when in the water.

Newt was next in line for the throne but stepped down, not liking the idea of being a king. He likes to spend time at the beach, swimming, and enjoying being in the sun. Usually keeps his sisters from killing each other.

Hard worker, does not usually slack off, does hate being in the spotlight. Humble. Good at reading emotions. Can lose track of time easily. Has his mother's dry sense of humor. Will faint at the sight of blood

Grows to 5'7", build like Sea Hawk. Named for the salamander that is associate with fire. And with it being an amphibian and transitioning from one stage to another, kind of works there also.

Sandra-15, oldest daughter. Born Mar 7th, She/Her, Pan. Medium brown skin, brown eyes, dark long brown curly hair. Has water based powers (still a WIP whoops). Can turn into a mermaid when in the water.

After her brother stepped down, she is now the heir to her kingdom. Still working a bit on her powers but is connected to the runestone. FIGHTS with her sister all the time.

Very much a girly girl, loves pink, skirts, sparkles, all that jazz. Takes her role as princess seriously. Dutiful and punctual. Hates messes, likes things to be neat. Does not like things randomly being dropped on her.

Grows to 5'8", Mermista's body build. Nickname is Sandy and is called that the most. Named cause yeah....sandy.

Yamuna-12, youngest child/daughter. Born Apr 13th, She/Her, Greyromo/sexual Lesbian. Long blue hair though will dye it many colors, usually orange, light brown skin, brown eyes. Water powers. Cannot fully turn into a mermaid when in the water, just gets webbing and gills.

She can control the temperature of the water around her, freezing it or boiling it at will. Is a great sailor

Pure Sea Hawk child, pretty much his clone. Wild, hyper, will set shit on fire. Takes pride in everything she does. Will blurt out things without thinking and can be pushy. Doesn't like to be told to do things. Zero filter.

Grows to 5'2", small body build. Named after one of the largest rivers in India.

(these guys are VERY WIP so not much to them)

Ada-Entrapta child, on the younger end. Adopted, trans woman, het. Does love robots and what not, helps their mom out a lot. Probably can run on little sleep and still be fine. Name was given to me by my good friend Dorku named after Ada Lovelace, a mathematician and first computer programmer. Very close with Onca

Luka and Felix-Catra's sons, adopted. Both magicats. Catra moves away from everyone and wouldnt really come into focus until much much later when Mira runs off. Luka and Felix idk ages yet but are only a year apart in age. Luka means light (he is one of Catra's lights now) and Felix is a cartoon cat. Would become close friends with Mira later on

(im too lazy to proof lmao and free to ask questions or change stuff up lmao god)

#she ra #spop #spop fankids #she ra fankids #glimmadora #bowfuma #seamista #future of etheria #harper #mira #micah #onca #robin #eliza #ash #newt #sandra #yamuna #ada #luka #felix #she ra ocs #spop ocs

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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years

Text

Colours of Love

Characters → Y/N & Dean Winchester, Other Supernatural characters

Summary → Until you meet your soulmate, everything will be black and white. But what happens when you see the colours of the rainbow but no soulmate in sight?

Word Count → 1.8k

Prompt → Soulmate AU + Stolen by Dashboard Confessional.

Warnings → Fluff.

Beta → the superstar that is @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.

Dividers → @firefly-graphics.

A/N → This is for @justagirlinafandomworld Pick Two challenge - I’m so sorry it’s late, hope you enjoy it!

Fear wrapped itself around your chest as you tried to recall the previous night while also having to deal with the adjustment of seeing all these vibrant colours.

The previously faded grey armchair was now an emerald masterpiece and you couldn’t help your fingers trailing across the velvety material, enjoying the switch between the shades.

The gold embroidered cushions enveloped you in a squishing hug as you curled around and let your legs dangle over the armrest.

Jessica was sitting opposite, sharing the couch with Sam, her head resting in his lap whilst he snored softly, “Are you sure you don’t remember anything else?”

“I drank a lot last night.” You groaned, your eyes stung with the strain of looking at her newly colourful features and the floral curtains behind her.

You looked away and around the pokey apartment; the photographs of your friends were now more alive than before and the bookcase full of varying shades and tones framing the many books and ornaments.

Your head pounded against your skull and your mouth felt like there was a cotton ball stuffed in it. The graduating class had celebrated late into the night, to welcome in the start of summer before they went off into the big adult world. You remembered throwing back shot after shot.

The thought of the clear burning liquid had your stomach bubbling with nausea and making you sit up, “I remember leaving you two lovebirds by the firepit, I was dancing-”

“-If you call that dancing.” Sam interrupted, his head still tilted back, and eyes closed.

You attempted to roll your eyes, but the muscle movement hurt your head more than it was worth, “-in Brady’s kitchen and then I remember nearly falling over but other than that. Nothing.”

Jessica offered you a reassuring smile, “You’ll find them one day.”

Once your head and body had cleared itself of the alcohol, you relished in periwinkle, fuchsia and evergreen. But weeks later, you still hadn’t found your soulmate, the one that had enabled you to see all these new and beautiful colours.

Eventually, after many conversations with Sam and Jessica, you decided to let fate play out. You’d already planned to travel the world and now you were able to see it in colour, you were even more excited

Well, for a few months of your solo adventure, until the colour began to fade into muted tones alongside your aching heart.

One Year Later…

It was the last chance for the Winchester’s to enjoy the summer. To soak in the sun and spend time with their loved ones before the chaos of Autumn took over their lives.

Sam and Jess had rounded up all the usual gang for a barbecue to celebrate their engagement as well as Dean and Castiel’s new business venture; a bar in the next town over.

Across the garden, Sam had his arm around Jess while they welcomed guests as they wandered through the side gate. Ellen and Jo were the first to arrive, a selection of beers and chips in hand. Not long after, Bobby and Rufus brought in the burgers and more beer.

Dean welcomed them all and then retreated to the other side as they all began to gush about Sam and Jess’s engagement. He hovered over the barbecue as the charcoal heated up, sipping on his beer, watching the excitement unfold across the lawn.

Of course, he is over the moon for his brother; finding his soulmate, settling down in this beautiful white picket fence home and, now, getting married. He recalled how Sam’s name flashed on his mobile out of the blue, Sam’s words a little slurred and the raucousness of the college party in the background as he recounted how he needed his older brother’s advice on how to get the girl.

Sam’s vision had changed the moment he caught sight of Jess across the lecture room, he spoke of how her blonde hair glowed, the way her pink plump lips grew into a huge smile then turned into a breathy chuckle once Sam realised he’d been caught staring at her.

Dean glanced back over to his family and friends, the strip of freshly mown grass was dull and the flowers he’d helped plant were no longer hosting vibrant petals. The feeling of jealousy and the worry that he was being left behind took over and he looked down at the grill.

It all started years ago, it happened the night of Sam’s graduation party; the beautiful woman in the kitchen, dancing completely out of time to the music. Instead of going towards her and relishing in this newfound vision, Dean had decided to keep it to himself. He wasn’t ready for settling down, falling in love or even meeting his soulmate.

Dean decided to rush past her and out of the house. His mission nearly failed as she collided into him and nearly fell over. He set her steady and without a second glance, left the party. Deep down, he knew he’d regret his actions, and that he’d end up in this position; watching his brother lead a life that he could only dream of.

The dull colours were a constant reminder of what could have been. He turned his focus back to the grill, placing the burgers down and drowning out the sounds from across the garden.

The moment the porch door swung open, you wrapped your arms around Jessica and nuzzled your face into her curly blonde locks. The travel tension dropping from your body, the soft gesture and the sepia tone of her face brought a warmth into your chest.

Jessica held your hands as you soaked in each other’s appearance “Y/N! Would ya look at yourself? Your video calls have not done you justice!”

“Says you!!” The pair of you grinned at one another before you glanced down at your right hand, pulling her left one up to expect the sparkling diamond, “The boy did good!”

"That he did.” Sam sauntered over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his locks fell across his face as he grinned down at you. “It’s about time I made an honest woman out of her. I’d crash and burn if it wasn’t for Jess.”

You rolled your eyes and slapped at his chest and turned back to Jessica, “Is he always this cheesy? I don’t remember him being this bad!”

“You’ve been away too long,” Sam chuckled and tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Nice to see you again Y/N. Let me take your bags; I’ll let Jess give you the tour.”

The lounge was homely with its large plush corner sofa and the floating shelves full of books, framed photographs and ornaments. Jessica guided you to the guest room and you relished in the normalcy, especially after years of owning nothing but a rucksack and a few days’ worth of clothes.

“Our bedroom is up the stairs and to the left, the room opposite is Sam’s office and then the bathroom on the right.” Jessica then rushed out the final words, “Dean’s room across the hall. He’s been staying whilst he sorts out the bar with Cas.”

“I’ll just freshen up and I’ll be straight out.” You smiled and shooed Jessica out of the bedroom. “Go and entertain your guests, I won’t be long!”

You wandered through the kitchen, a slight smirk on your lips as you twisted around to do a full rotation of the room; it was just how you imagined it would be. With the refrigerator adorned with magnets, gadgets neatly placed on the counters and the photographs dotted along the walls.

Without realising, you turned and walked straight into someone. Your face smashed into the soft cotton adorning someone’s chest. You gasped and stumbled backwards; the heat of embarrassment settled on your cheeks as you looked up at the wall of muscle you had collided with.

You found the bright green eyes of Dean Winchester looking like a deer in headlights. The golden flecks around his dilated pupils pulled your gaze across his features. His tanned skin and freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks had you follow the darker stubble along his jawline. His mouth was slack, and his pink fleshy tongue darted across his bottom lip.

A laughter echoed from outside, bringing you out of your trance. “I am so sorry!”

You rushed past him and out into the garden with the want for the ground to swallow you whole. The only time you had met, well-spoken to, Dean, was during a phone call with Sam and then you had seen him when Sam had video called him. Of course, the webcam footage back at college was not the best but you had felt a warmth grow each time you walked past Sam’s room and could see Dean catching up with his younger brother.

A warm welcome by Bobby and Rufus was exactly what you needed to distract yourself from how the first time of meeting Dean Winchester had gone completely wrong. The offer of a beer and a patted spot on the blanket from Ellen had you grinning but not enough to stop your thoughts from wandering back to the man you collided with in the kitchen.

It had always been a surprise to you that it had taken this long to meet Dean, you’d met everyone else in Sam's circle except the closest member. You sipped on the beer, relished in the sunshine and the laughter around you as your thoughts drifted back to the way Dean looked, frozen in the spot just like you.

The pictures and videos did not do the man justice, and well, the last few years had done wonders and the way his bright green eyes sparkled in the frame of soft wrinkles.

Bright green eyes. You almost choked on your beer as you looked down to the ground. The navy and white striped blanket was no longer a dull tone, it was almost vibrant. Your heart raced as your hands glided along the soft fabric.

Slowly, you glanced up at the raised flower beds to your left; luscious green leaves and dazzling pink petals facing upwards. You followed the flowers’ gaze; the cotton white clouds looked delicate against the contrasting blue sky.

Your mouth dried and your skin shivered in anticipation as your eyes fell back down to the house, and the man standing on the decking in front of the French doors.

His sparkling green eyes focused on you, and only you.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan / @aroyaldarknessblr / @thefridgeismybestie / @kitkatd7

Supernatural Tag List: @deanwanddamons

SPN Pond Tag List: @manawhaat / @thing-you-do-with-that-thing / @nichelle-my-belle-spn-con-blog / @notnaturalanahi / @deanscarlett / @whispersandwhiskerburn / @roxy-davenport / @deathtonormalcy56 / @samsgoddess / @frenchybell / @for-the-love-of-dean / @mysupernaturalfics / @spn-fan-girl-173 / @deandoesthingstome / @jelly-beans-and-gstrings / @fiveleaf / @deansleather / @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname / @waywardjoy / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious / @kayteonline / @supernatural-jackles / @wevegotworktodo / @quiddy-writes / @babypieandwhiskey / @wi-deangirl77 / @deantbh / @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki / @deanwinchesterforpromqueen / @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog / @memariana91 / @plaidstiel-wormstache / @chelsea-winchester / @becs-bunker / @writingbeautifulmen / @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell / @castieltrash1 / @supernaturalyobessed / @ohwritever / @ruined-by-destiel / @inmysparetime0 / @winchester-writes / @evilskank-inthemegacoven / @maraisabellegrey-blog / @faith-in-dean / @winchestersmolder / @bennyyh / @clueless-gold / @deanwinchesterxreader / @melbelle45 / @winchester-family-business / @4401lnc / @there-must-be-a-lock / @just-another-winchester / @canadianjelly / @emoryhemsworth / @cas-backwards-tie / @coralanadianspnhunter / @mostly-shawn / @sierra-grace1227 / @flamencodiva / @kalesrebellion / @emilyshurley / @deanwanddamons / @ellewritesfix05 / @idreamofplaid / @emptycanvasposts / @herfalsegod

*Bold - unable to tag

#Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester Fic #Supernatural #Supernatural Fic #SPN #SPN Fic

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yeehawfolk · 4 years

Note

Hi! I think yr totally right about Felix's teeth probably not being great and how he and the rest of the crew should have more scars! Do u have any other lil appearance HCs for him/the whole gang? (:

OK! SO! I have a Lot of HCs about the crew, appearance-wise, anyway. Don't get me wrong, I love their canon designs, but I feel like they didn't utilize "Halcyon is fucked" enough with your companions? If that makes sense. I'm going to break this up character by character, so it'll be an easier read!

Also, I'm gonna put a TW on this for slight self harm on this?? It's not emotionally motivated at all, it's like when you'd compete to see who can get the gnarliest eraser burn in middle school, but nevertheless, I want to warn y'all ahead of time, it's on Ellie's part.

Parvati:

-Honestly, her eyes are gorgeous. They're brown, but an amber kind of brown, and very bright.

-I personally HC that Parvati chews her nails when she's nervous, so they're always nubs and usually pretty dirty, bc Mechanic and all.

-Her hands have faint scars from nicks and burns from working on machinery. The skin on her hands doesn't scar easily, but she still has a few gnarly scars from particularly bad burns or cuts that she wasn't able to take proper care of.

-Constantly has bruises of unknown origin on her arms and legs. She bruises very easy, and always has, which is kind of precarious when you're a mechanic.

-This might already be canon and I just haven't noticed bc I'm using the Switch version, but I HC Parv has some freckles sprinkled around her face. Not a lot by any means, but I HC she gets frequent sun when she's working on certain parts of the town, and freckles are a bi-product of that.

-She has a couple small scars on her face; one just below her eye on her cheek, and another on her chin. I like to think she fell on her chin, and the other was from her first project that blew up in her face, literally.

-Her skin is just a bit ashy because she hasn't had access to a lot of good lotions over the years.

-Despite taking a shower every morning, she accumulates grease smudges and dirt from her plants on herself very easily. She cleans up for her and Junlei's dates, but for casual visits both don't really bother. Sometimes they make a game of smudging each other with grease while they work and by the time they're finished their faces look like they were going for war paint.

-I like to think Parvati and Junlei eventually wear rings with each other (like, years down the line) and when Parvati gets deep in thought, she rests it against her lips. Junlei does something similar by turning her ring on her finger.

-Parv has ok teeth, not like great, but she takes pretty good care of them, even if sometimes she has to forgo it for a day or few while out with the Captain.

-When she's in Edgewater, she's always skinny, and if you squinted you probably could pick out a rib or so. But after she moves in with The Captain, she gains weight, and finally has the little pooch of fat that you're supposed to have around the middle. Ellie helps her keep up with nutritional needs (what you can get in Halcyon, anyway) and gets very proud when she makes her goals.

Felix:

-This boy has horrible teeth. His sweet tooth + being an orphan in the Back Bays didn't leave much time for proper teeth cleaning. He probably never really had enough bits to get toothpaste with, either.

-Oh, boy. He has scars galore. Some are from scuffles (he has some on his back from when he was a kid and used to get in trouble for stealing) but a lot are also from getting burned by pipes, or jagged metal. A fair few are from him doing dumbass things in his teenage years ("I wonder what would happen if I heat up these rounds of light ammo with a flamethrower??") because you can't tell me this boy didn't do dumb things like every teenage boy did but with more disasterous results bc SciFi.

-His nose has been broken quite a few times, so it's crooked in a couple spots.

-Can frequently be found with bloody knuckles just because he forgets that punching someone with a mask over their face really isn't the best idea. This eventually culminates into him making the "Millstone Drop-Kick!" his go-to move.

-This isn't exactly appearance related, but I HC Felix has a fucked back from his life of hauling heavy boxes. It doesn't help that he drop kicks literally everything that moves tho.

-Probably has chronic pain in his hands from his hands getting crushed by boxes at some point or another. Several of his fingers are crooked from being broken and improperly set. His bones probably aren't the best bc of poor nutrition growing up, either, so they're a little easier to break.

-Just. Me thinking about Felix in his 40s, or even early 30s: Honey, you have a big storm coming.

-This is also a little random, but I like to think that it takes a long time for Felix to grow any kind of facial hair (he has chronic babyface) so he's super proud of his scruff.

-Max: That's peach fuzz. If that.

-Felix: Leave me alone you big hairy bastard, just bc you have to shave like every other day to keep a clean face doesn't mean all men do!!

-(He's just a bit sensitive about his facial hair)

-(He one day dreams of growing a glorious beard like Sanjar's, but it would take him like 50 years)

-(Shut up Max one day he'll have an amazing handlebar mustache and you won't be laughing then)

-I have no idea if piercings or tattoos are a Thing in Halcyon (probs not, honestly, but I can dream) but if they are, he tried to pierce his ears by himself once, they got infected, and he got really sad when he had to let them close. The marks are still there but the holes have closed by now.

-ELLIE PIERCES HIS EAR AND HELPS HIM KEEP IT CLEAN

-Felix is strong, but he's skinny and gangly as all hell and it's hard as fuck to get him to gain any weight, mostly because he still has his habit of eating only what he needs and stashing the rest. It takes him a while with the crew to get over that, and when he does, he gains a healthy amount of weight around his middle. Ellie teases him a bit, but is 1,000x happier that he's no longer damn near a walking skeleton.

-Listen. Ellie and Felix are bros I don't make the rules. She denies it but she would kill for Felix.

-Usually has slight dark circles under his eyes, because he has nightmares sometimes and can't sleep.

-His eyes are really, really pretty. Like. Super fucking pretty. He has long lashes and they sparkle when he smiles. His eyes are hazel like Max's, but more on the brown side, with streaks of green radiating out from the pupil.

-Speaking of smiles. He has the goofiest and sweetest grins around. A little self-conscious about his teeth, but honestly that doesn't stop him from laughing and smiling with everyone. He has a couple broken teeth, but honestly it just makes his grin a lil lopsided and cute.

-He gets the Worst bed-head. It stands almost straight up in every direction, but it's really easy to tame. Mostly because he just runs his hands through it and calls it a day.

-He found Max's hair gel once and went Ham. He used the whole can sticking his hair up into a mohawk, and proceeded to parade around for Ellie and Parvati. Then bolt to his room and lock the door when Max shouted his name from the bathroom. Max's hair was out of whack for like. A week. He kept blowing it out of his face and Felix and Ellie would giggle like madmen when he did.

-*BANGS FISTS ON TABLE* FELIX IS BABY! FELIX IS BABY!!

Max:

-My MANS

-Listen, I am extremely gay for Max. This needs to be known before I continue, because I have a metric fuckton of Max HCs.

-So, first off, Max takes VERY good care of his appearance. Like. Insanely good. His hair is always perfectly held back by a moderate amount of gel, his nails perfectly trimmed and cleaned. He keeps a clean-shaven face.

-But don't let that fool you, Max can and will get down and dirty when need be, he just doesn't care to stay like that.

-Quite a few scars from his prison and Tossball years. But because of the clothes he wears you wouldn't be able to see them easily. Mostly on his back/sides, though he has a couple on his torso and legs.

-The Captain calls him Bigfoot because his grows hair really fast and his arms and chest have some pretty thick hair. Max is very confused, because he personally doesn't think his feet are that big.

-Not an appearance HC per se, but he smells like soap, aftershave, and books.

-When he doesn't gel his hair, it falls in his face constantly, and it annoys the fuck out of him.

-Fuckin ripped bro. Just. What the fuck. Why is a priest this fuckin shredded. Why make my gay little heart ache more than it already does, Obsidian??

-Despite his arm muscles being like. Huge, he still has a healthy layer of fat over his middle, mostly because being an OSI Priest, he got a little bit better nutrition VS. literally all of Halcyon.

-When his knee gets Bad (like hiking through Monarch with the Captain) he has a slight limp? Barely noticeable, but you can tell he's not putting weight on it. I HC its an old Tossball injury (that might be canon, I haven't played in forever).

-Its hard to tell in the different lights of the game whether his hair is Black or Silver, and I like to think he's greying, but not fully grey yet. He can have a little hair color, still. As a treat.

-Fuckin no lashes to speak of. None at all. Baldy eyes. Its the only part of him that doesn't have really thick hair and ngl he is very salty about it. Tho his actual eyes are very pretty; they're hazel with a lot of green. He has a darker ring on the outside and flecks of brown in them.

-Has very good teeth, whiter than most of Halcyon's because of the OSI providing for him.

-Broke his nose once during Tossball, though he was able to get it set alright. Slight crook in the bridge of his nose.

-He has a lot of those moles from his face scattered around. Particularly his shoulders and back.

-Also have you seen his fuckin canon thighs??? Bro. They could crush a watermelon. Once again, I must say, what the fuck, why is this priest so fuckin shredded.

-Actually takes his physical health very seriously, so I like to think he's in great shape for his age. Seeing him in some of the canon outfits though makes me more inclined to think that's canon.

-Sorry, I have thought about this A Lot, and the gay jumps out of me sometimes.

-A fair amount of scars on his arms. Not as many as Nyoka, but a little bit more than Parvati.

-Has calloused hands, but they've softened over his years as a priest.

Ellie:

-Now I feel like Ellie wouldn't have many scars that she didn't let scar up on purpose to give her an edge. They're essentially superficial; they look cool but didn't do any real damage.

-Also, her skin is very pale, so she doesn't scar easily anyway.

-Though she does have some, and they're more recent. A couple of gashes on her arms, and a bullet wound in her side. She's proud of them.

-The dark circles under her eyes are because she likes to stay up late at night. Sometimes she contemplates her life, but she doesn't like it, and usually doesn't bother too much.

-Her lashes are very thick and full, and they compliment her eyes very well. Her eyes aren't exactly ice blue, they're a bit darker, and have real pretty lighter streaks in them.

-Yes, her lips are naturally that color. Good for picking up women, bad for looking intimidating to marauders.

-Really soft skin, she's always had access to good lotion. After she leaves Byzantium, she purposely looks a bit more grimy than she did then, which is easy to do because of her skin tone.

-Has a few moles and freckles, but not many, mostly on her shoulders and back. She was inside a lot prior to her leaving Byzantium.

-Her hair doesn't really sit down when she sleeps, but it does lose some poofiness, so she has to meticulously push it up in the mornings.

-Not quite an appearance HC, but I feel like when she gets comfortable with ADA, she gives her compliments. Stuff like "Your screen is very bright today, ADA!" ADA does the same thing. "And your hair is looking very bright as always, Dr. Fenhill."

-Muscular, but lean, and puts on weight a little easier than others, so she wouldn't look like she could kick your ass without her pirate get-up, but she could 100%, no holds barred kick your ass.

-Very good teeth. Despite wanting to look like a gnarly pirate she takes dental care very seriously. Tho she thinks about getting punched in the mouth occasionally so she could like break off a piece of her tooth. Not the whole thing, just enough to make her look tough.

-Idc if piercings and tattoos aren't a Thing in Halcyon, Ellie has pierced ears. Three in each ear, and I like to think an eyebrow and maybe nose ring. She doesn't wear them when she's in Dangerous Situations because she firsthand had to fix ears that had their earrings ripped out during rich catfights that she does NOT want that to happen to her.

-She also has tattoos covering most of her back, and some of her upper arms. She got them "illegally" (meaning it's illegal to The Board, but the Groundbreaker doesn't really give a shit) on The Groundbreaker and she's proud as fuck of them.

-I have Feelings about the missed opportunities for illegal tattoo/piercing parlors. Like I know there's not a lot of self-expression to be had and no Art aside from fonts, but c'mon. Humans have drawn on their skin since the beginning all around the world and we WOULD find ways to do it again, even if it's needle-poke tattoos.

-Anyway, back to Ellie.

-You ever hear of a "lighter tattoo"? Basically, you heat up a lighter and then stamp the hot metal into your skin and it makes a mark in the shape of the lighter head. If you get it hot enough and hold it long enough it can scar. They have a similar thing in Halcyon with Plasma Cutters. Instead of Stab, you heat it up, turn it off, and press the blade to your skin and it pretty much scars within a couple seconds.

-Ellie 100% did a few of those when she was in Byzantium as like the "hahaha edgy" thing that teenagers do.

-Like I know technically kids aren't around but... bruh... you can't tell me that teenagers in a SciFi setting wouldn't do dumb ass shit like that.

-Ellie is honestly the baddest bitch and I love her, ok, she just reminds me so much of of those high school delinquent tropes in 90s movies

Nyoka:

-SO I HAVE SOME FEELINGS ABOUT NYOKA'S CANON DESIGN... IN THAT SHE'S ESSENTIALLY A MONSTER HUNTER BUT SHE HAS NO SCARS!

-Listen, ok, she would 100% have a lot of scars from her life on Monarch. I share some HCs with @nyokaacore in that she has three scars over one of her eyes, and a few others around her face, like on her lips.

-The bulk of her scars are on her arms and body, though, as she usually is able to get the Canid or Rapt off before they get to her face.

-I like to think the scars on her eye are from Freida, the first Rapt she ever killed that's taxidermied on her wall.

-But she has a lot of scars from Raptidon claws and Canid mouthplates, sprinkled with some Manti burns and burns from Rapt spit.

-She also has her fair share of bullet scars on her, and definitely has some patches of skin discoloration from incidents regarding the sulphur pools. Chemical burns are a bitch.

-She's tall, and not exactly curvy? But broad. Big shoulders, wide hips, sturdy legs. Looks like she could kill you, could actually kill you alignment.

-The sand and sulphur in the air plays Hell on her skin, so she's got some old acne scars and places that scarred up into moles on her face. Has an issue with dry skin.

-Her skin is also pretty oily, and she washes it when she can, but water is usually better spent being drunk than washed with. However, she does carry a spare bottle of non-drinkable water to wash Rapt acid off in emergencies, so sometimes she'll pull from that to wash her face with.

-Big hands, calloused, pretty scarred up from her time on Monarch.

-I also like to think that she can tell you stories about most of the scars she has, lmao.

-Her nose, like Felix's, has been broken quite a few times and is pretty crooked.

-Most often, you see Nyoka with a slight sunburn on her face. It's hard to see, but her cheeks are usually warm to the touch.

-Her teeth aren't the best, but she does take as much care of them as she can out on Monarch. Still pretty yellow with some cavities, but not as bad at Felix's.

-Honestly the dark circles around her eyes are usually because she doesn't sleep a lot. She has dreams about CHARON, and that's not her favorite thing to do.

-At a pretty healthy weight for Halcyon, and ofc, has muscles as big as your head.

-Surprisingly soft hands, though.

#the outer worlds #tow #the outer worlds hcs #headcanons #hcs #parvati holcomb #felix millstone #ellie fenhill #nyoka ramnarim wentworth iii #vicar max #maximillian desoto #appearance hcs #asks #anon #i need to stop now or i'll never stop

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1994sunflower · 4 years

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Hey I really love your writing it’s amazing I was wondering if you could write an imagine where like A girl from micheals past makes an appearance and the reader gets really insecure. A fight maybe? Smut? but he like fix’s everything idk whatever you think is best honestly I just love reading your writing .

so….i definitely went overboard on this haha, it’s sooo long. but!! i loved this prompt so much. i got really into this. hope you like it!!!

also again, just so no one gets confused this does NOT take place during the locked out of heaven. time period.

in which you get jealous

Before there was you, there were countless of nameless (and frankly, with how drunk he could get, faceless) girls that Michael had been with. It was a fact you had come to accept and it was also very public knowledge. What wasn’t so public knowledge was the girl who started his tirade of women.

Michael never talked about her. Why would he? He didn’t care about her, never did. She was just a easy fix whenever he got needy - she was there and he knew he wouldn’t have to spend a lot of his energy to get laid with her around. But, especially after meeting and falling in love with you, he could barely even remember her.

‘Accessible’ soon proved to be more baggage than he wanted or needed with her. She got too comfortable, confused with her title and place in his life. Which, for the record, was just a warm body. But eventually, her affection for him got too much for Michael to care for and he settled for spending just a little bit more of his energy to find new girls, ones who would know he only wanted one thing and then leave it at that. And he made sure it was once and done to avoid any of the unnecessary drama he had found in April.

Which is how he lived out his college years until you stumbled into his life that fateful night. Now he had no need for other girls, no desire for them and, were it not for the constant rumors and mumblings of his past as a player, it seemed like those parts of his life never happened. Like those girls never happened. Like April never happened.

And he was perfectly content with that.

You were, too. Even with the knowledge that there were many girls who had once experienced your boyfriend you didn’t mind too much because no one had gotten Michael fully before you. Because he was a different experience when he was fully devoted to the girl he was sleeping with. So even knowing about Michael’s past, your mind never wandered with doubts or questions. Especially when Michael made feel you so secure.

You never searched out the girls he had been with prior, didn’t really care. It was before you and you knew he was different now, at least with you. So you never asked and you were never bothered with the idea of the girls before you. Because they weren’t really ‘before you’, no one had the same place in Michael’s heart that you currently own.

Hearing April’s name for the first time didn’t bring a rush of preconceived notions or history because of this. In fact, you weren’t exactly sure what an April was when Ashton walked by you and Michael as he was leaving home and you were heading there.

“April’s in the living room. Sorry bro, she just showed up and wouldn’t leave.”

You knew April couldn’t be good news by the way Michael’s hand closed tighter around your small one. You looked up to see his eyes go a little darker in anger and his jaw set. Michael had gotten angry really quickly and you weren’t sure why.

But he was silent until you reached his house. He didn’t open the door for you like he normally would’ve done but as he stealthily kept you half hidden at his side, you knew it was so he could deal with April full on and not have you be in the middle of it.

“What the fuck are you doing here, April?” His voice was rough and sneering.

And it was directed to a dark brunette sitting on the winding couch in the living room. She was sitting sideways and staring directly at Michael with an amused, teasing smile. One only capable when you were someone who had dealt with Michael extensively and weren’t so much afraid of his tone anymore.

This thought, the though that whoever this girl was, knew Michael in a much deeper way than you’d never encountered before, never had to worry about before made you wrap your other arm around Michael’s. A deep set worry settled in you. Who was she to Michael?

April stood up. Her long, shiny brown hair flipped behind her and you couldn’t help the way you tightened your hold on Michael. She was beautiful. Her olive skin paired nicely with her green eyes and lightly freckled face. She was tall, much taller than you and the shorts she wore made sure to show her long legs off. She was someone you’d exactly expect to see with Michael. Not at all like you.

And you couldn’t help the comparisons rushing through your mind.

“Turns out we’re in the same Psych class and we’re a group project together. Luckily, I remembered where your house was.” Your heart constricted in a way you weren’t used to. You’ve experienced insecurity before but never justified. Michael had made sure of it. But with this girl, the one who knew Michael enough to be used to his temper, the one who had been in his house before, this felt very justified.

“I don’t do group projects.” Michael’s answers were short and held a warning tone hidden behind his words. He wasn’t sure how convinced he was that their partnerships as pure chance.

You pulled away from Michael just enough to be able to look up to his face fully. You reached just barely to his chest but then you felt even smaller. “Who is this?”

You tried not to notice her eyes narrow down at your small figure. The way she trailed her gaze up and down your body, sizing you up. Or the small smirk that formed when she decided she didn’t have much to worry about when it came to Michael.

A hot anger brushed through you but you didn’t want to be that girl. The one who was insecure over her relationship even when nothing had happened yet. There was nothing to be insecure about.

You weren’t the only one who had caught April’s judgy gaze on you. Michael noticed it too and as soon as he did, he pulled you tightly into his side, holding onto you protectively. As if trying to shield you from the girl who didn’t deserve to make you feel bad or uncomfortable. Not when you were home while she wasn’t even welcome.

“No one.” He said and his tone held no room for debate. For him she was no one. An icy glare was fixed on April as he said it. But, paradoxically, his hand rubbed up and down your arm gently to comfort and reassure you as much as he could.

April sighed dramatically, looking away towards the open kitchen at her side. “Look, I already did most of it. I just figured you’d want to at least try finishing it with me. Plus, it’d be nice to catch up don’t you think?”

“No.”

You took a hold of his big hand and squeezed it, sending his gaze shooting immediately down to you. His brows furrowed in confusion, searching for anything that could be wrong. All you had to do was say the word and he’d kick her out if it was making you too uncomfortable.

But your mind was drifting more to him. He needed the points. No matter your opinion or the way your mind filled with possibilities and fears of who exactly April was to Michael, you knew he should do the project with her. What would it hurt anyway? It was for school and you would be right there if anything were to go awry.

“Mikey, it’s okay.” Michael looked at you in wonder. You really were such a good person and he wondered not for the first time how exactly you were his. He didn’t think it was possible to love you more. You were perfect.

He would never be so understanding in the same situation. In fact, he couldn’t really think of himself even allowing a man that had been with you the way April had with him close to you or your home at all. His chest constricted in anger just at the thought.

April watched with narrow eyes as you persuaded a reluctant Michael into not only not kicking her out but to even move to the couch where April was standing behind. She never truly got over Michael after he iced her out of his life. Especially when she was starting to fall for him. But she learned to live without him even if her mind always wandered to what could have been if he hadn’t ruined everything. When she heard he had gotten a girlfriend it was the icing on top of her anger. When she saw what you were like compared to him and hell compared to her, it was disbelief that covered her. The great Michael ended what he had fought against her so much to get…for you?

Michael only moved because you seemed to want him to. He kept his gaze on you, studying you for any sign that would tell him you were changing your mind. But when he finally stood right at the couch, next to April with your little body right in front of him he understood; you were doing it for his sake, to help him with his class and get the grades he needed. Even if it meant sending him to someone you didn’t feel secure with. He wanted to tell you he didn’t care, especially if it meant having to work with the brunette nightmare beside him and making you uncomfortable. But if it would keep you from being disappointed in him, if it would give you a sense of pride in him then he would do it. Not happily of course. But he’d do it for you.

He didn’t even glance at April though she was the closest she’d been physically to him since the moment he stopped talking to her. No, his entire attention was on you and he intended to keep it that way. You were his priority. If he had to balance making you happy and keeping you comfortable, he’d do it.

So when he finally sat down at the couch, he took you by your waist and brought you down to sit on his lap with his arms around your body. While you knew how touchy he was, at that moment you never appreciated it more. It gave you a reassurance you didn’t realize you needed so heavily. He was willing to stake his claim in front of a girl from his past and it felt like he was sending a bigger message than usual. He was yours.

The atmosphere was tense as April slowly sat down next to him, her hands grabbing for the notebook next to her on the couch. Her gaze was cool as she glanced at both of you. Even up close you could see her almost model-esque physique. While you very much embodied more of a doll-like look. You were so different that you wondered how Michael had gone from her to you. Even if you two obviously played different roles in his life.

Lucky for you, Michael seemed to prefer you, evidenced by the way his eyes never left your profile and his hands couldn’t stop moving along your legs. He loved your submissiveness, your size, your innocence. You couldn’t help the smug smile on your face.

April was just a figure he vaguely acknowledged was there. After all, he didn’t really want to deal with her in the first place.

His gaze didn’t even turn to her when she began going over the work she had already done for class. And, to be fair, it was a lot. It was a big project and she had done all but the last couple slides. Which, you couldn’t help but think, meant she didn’t need Michael’s help. Yet she had gone out of her way to search him out.

Your discomfort manifested itself further when April stopped talking and moved her eyesight from her notebook and laptop to look directly at you two again. You could see her going over exactly how to say what she was thinking for a moment. Michael didn’t notice, his eyes were looking into the distance, bored with only the way his fingertips trailed featherlike along the skin of your arms to tell you he was still conscious.

“You know we really don’t need you to be here, it’s distracting.” Her words were blunt and harsh. While you had gotten used to your boyfriend being so straightforward, hearing it from her, someone who clearly didn’t have an interest in your feelings, it stung.

Her tone was enough to have Michael’s eyes finally snapping to her. “What the fuck did you just say?” His arms tightened around you protectively as if wanting to physically keep you from her words.

April’s eyes widened just a bit at his flare up. “I’m just saying you’re not paying attention because she’s here and we could finish this a lot quicker if-”

Michael sat up just slightly, his eyes blazing as he stared at her incredulously. “I don’t know who you think you fucking are to even be able talk to her. From where I’m standing, she’s the only reason I haven’t kicked you out. So if you want anyone to leave, you leave and finish your own shit because I’ve seen more of your face than I ever wanted to again.”

His words were so mean that even you felt hurt. But more so hurt to hear your boyfriend speak that way. And upset to know that he was willing to lose the percentage points this project would give him because of you. April was right in a way, the anger between them was just being amplified by your presence because Michael cared more about how April was making you feel than anything else.

So, you took a hold of his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you instead of her. His eyes immediately became softer as he stared into your eyes. Worry swirled with anger in his light colored pupils.

“I’ll be in your room, okay Mikey? Just finish your project up quickly and I’ll be right here.” Your tone was soothing and you felt your heart constrict with appreciation as he nodded slowly. He was willing to obey you, to stay with someone he nearly hated to make you happy and proud.

Before you stood, you made sure to place your mouth to his in a deep kiss. You always kissed him before you left but this time you went deeper and more passionate than usual. It was more for your sake and reassurance that you trusted him than it was to send a message to April but if it did both, then that was just a plus. His tongue prodded your mouth, he was never one to care about who was watching when he was with his girl. You felt yourself start to react more but you pulled away before it became too much of a spectacle.

He let you go reluctantly after that as you made your way to his room and made yourself comfortable on his bed. But not before seeing the way he crossed his arms across his chest and stared emptily at April. You watched as April moved slowly closer to him, using her notes and showing him her slides as an excuse. Your heart constricted at the sight but you trusted Michael enough to make yourself leave and besides you would be a few seconds away if anything went wrong.

It was for Michael’s sake. To get him the grades he needed. You wanted him to be involved in his academics and this would achieve that. Even if you knew April’s motivations were anything but her grades. It would all be fine.

You repeated that to yourself for the first half hour. Even when you tried to distract yourself on your phone, your mind kept wandering to Michael and April. What could be taking them this long? She said she was nearly done and you were sure Michael wouldn’t do anything to prolong the time he would have to spend with her. Was she moving slowly on purpose?

Standing up, you began pacing nervously around his room. You wondered just how close she had managed to get to him on that couch that suddenly seemed too small. This was all out of your realm of expertise. You’d never had to worry about another girl knowing Michael so well. You’d never had to be insecure to this extent. But how could you not be when she was so beautiful and obviously had a past with your boyfriend? Worse even was that Michael never talked about her, never even mentioned her so you had no idea how far their history ran. Or why Michael disliked her so much. Was she an ex-girlfriend? Though you distinctly remembered him telling you he’d never had a real girlfriend before you. Just several hook ups.

The insecurities ran through your mind faster than you could even process them. Maybe that was why you decided to go get a drink from the kitchen, you could just glance at them to see their process. To make sure Michael’s temper was still in check.

So that was exactly what you did, nearly an hour after you left him, you gently opened the door and silently made your way to the fridge. You glanced at the couch on your way, noticed the way April was typing mindlessly on her laptop and the way Michael was leaned as far he could away from her, his arms still crossed and still silent. The only sounds were the keyboard clicks.

As soon as Michael heard his door open, you felt his eyes following your every move. Your heartbeat quickened because there was just something so erotic to know that you had the power to focus his entire attention to you, even when he had another beautiful woman right in front of him. He didn’t speak but every move you made had your body heating up just knowing his silent gaze was trailing you from the bedroom doorway to the fridge.

You had to blame it on him when you bent over unnecessarily to search the bottom row of the fridge for a bottled water. You were hyperaware of the way your, already short, skirt skimmed just enough to give him a peek of your panties.

It was quick but effective. You knew because as soon as you turned back to him, you saw the way gaze hardened on you. His jaw was set and his eyes trailed up and down your body slowly, effectively undressing you with his eyes. You knew it was taking everything in him not to get up and just deal with you right then and there.

Which, you definitely wouldn’t mind. You were teasing him and you knew it. But it gave you the ability to emphasize that you were the only girl who clouded his mind, the one he could make him react that way. Even with April, clueless to what was going on right in front of her and to the fact that Michael’s mind had trailed away from the work to his fantasies.

Your eyes met his directly as you trailed one of your hands down to push the front side of your skirt up, giving him a tasteful look of your thigh and panties while you cupped yourself and the other using the wet water bottle to push the front of your shirt collar down, giving him a full look of your cleavage as you kneaded your tits.

It was dirty and it wasn’t something you normally would even think of doing. Especially in a situation where April could turn around any second and catch you. But given your discomfort at the situation she brought with her and the way you had Michael’s full attention despite her, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You definitely had Michael’s attention. He tried to be inconspicuous when he grabbed a hold of a pillow and placed it on top of his lap. But he didn’t shy away from gazing at your exhibited body. His hands were clenching and unclenching in an attempt to control himself from doing exactly what he was currently imagining doing to you in that moment. Honestly, he didn’t really care what consequences it would bring but he knew you likely wouldn’t appreciate it.

But the sight was downright sinful. Seeing his shy, usually nervous and too kind girlfriend teasing him so out in the open, in a way that was not so subtly staking her own claim on him was a turn on he’d never experienced before. But he loved it. He thought he might cum in his pants when you bit your bottom lip as your fingers trailed over your clothed pussy, all while staring directly at him.

Fuck.

His eyes were infinitely darker with lust as his gaze followed you when you collected yourself and all but skipped back to his room. Skipped. You fucking skipped like a giggling schoolgirl back to the place he could so easily go and fuck you in. He wanted to ruin you, his eyes nearly rolled in the back of his eyes at the images flashing through his mind.

You gagging around his cock, you crying from the pleasure as he took you from behind, you covered in his cum.

He had to cover his eyes with his hand to collect himself. Keeping his hand on the pillow firmly to hide the large bulge forming in the front of his pants.

If only he wasn’t stuck with the annoyingly slow-working girl from his past. He could go to where you were laying down, vulnerable and willing in his bed.

But instead of doing what you both wished he would, but knew he couldn’t, you were left for a few more minutes alone in his room and now unnecessarily horny from your own actions. You really didn’t think it through as now all you wanted was for him to finish his project so he could make you feel good.

It was only a few minutes though because soon enough you heard Michael’s gruff voice even through the closed door. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

You ran out of the room as fast as you could just to see a very angry Michael holding on to April’s slim wrist painfully. It was in such an angle where it was clear she had gotten too close, laid her hands on him and he reacted.

April was gasping but you weren’t sure if it was from pain or from the surprise at his swift actions. But that soon developed into a teasing smile, “I almost forgot how rough you could be.”

You saw Michael’s eyes widened and his lips curling in disgust, likely more so at the fact that you had to hear what had just come out of her mouth. He let go of her almost immediately. Her words would have no impact other than the fact that they were meant to almost exclusively humiliate you with how she had had Michael before you. He never regretted his past as much as he did right then. You didn’t deserve to be in the middle of his actions. He knew if the sides were switched and one of your old fuck buddies (if you had any) said that in front of him, it would not end well.

This time, his eyes weren’t the only ones that were blazing with anger. You felt your throat tighten in anger as you moved forward. You had suspected that was what their relationship was but to see her say it so crudely and disrespectfully in front of you unleashed an anger that you didn’t experience much of.

You got in between them quickly, you were shorter than she was but you were also angrier. “Get away from my boyfriend.” You said with a authoritative voice you didn’t even know you were capable of having.

Even Michael’s eyes glanced at you with surprise. You’ve never been the jealous one or the angry one, that was all him. So this was a first for him. And he couldn’t say he didn’t like.

April gave you a mocking grin, “Maybe you’d have a right to be mad if his dick hasn’t fucked half of the girls at this school.” When she took a step toward you, Michael took a hold of you and effectively threw you behind his large frame to step in between. His way of protecting you from her cruel words even if you didn’t think you needed the protection right then, you wanted to face her even if you’d never been in a fight before in your life. It was the principle of it. She had disrespected you.

But Michael seemed to take a hold of that burden because he glared down at her and spoke in a tone that was so icy, you had goosebumps. And you knew he was still controlling himself, because you were there and he didn’t want to scare you. “Get the fuck out before I make you. Get your shit and don’t ever even look at my girl again. You’ve never mattered to me for you to think you have anything over her.”

He was mad, so mad you could almost feel him shaking. The pure thought of his past actions being thrown in your face the way it had made him see red. You didn’t deserve to hear that. He felt so much anger at himself, at April, that all he wanted was to collect you in his arms and apologize, to reassure you that you were the only one who mattered, the only one he loved.

You tried to look past him just enough to see April clench her jaw and weigh her options. But it appeared that no matter how much time she had known him for, or how well, even she knew not to mess with a Michael that was this angry. Because she hadn’t faced his anger when it came to protecting you, it was lethal.

Michael moved with her as she packed up and headed to the door, making sure she was gone as quickly as possible. You’d never heard the door slam so loudly as he locked the door behind her.

And just like that it was like a flip had been switched. He was still mad, you could tell by his tense shoulders but he was mostly worried and almost nervous as he moved back to you. His hands took a hold of your forearms, “I’m sorry.” He said, looking down at you for any sign of your distress. “I’m sorry you had to hear her say that. I was hard because of you and she was too fucking stupid to know it wasn’t for her. I should’ve kicked her out as soon as I saw her, I should have-”

Your lips cut him off roughly. You nearly pushed him backward at your spontaneous actions, as you swung your arms around his neck to pull yourself up to his mouth. Even he was surprised by your actions though he still didn’t hesitate to kiss you back and pick you up so you could reach his mouth more comfortably. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair. You weren’t one to start anything sexual and he was perfectly fine with it. But this was a welcome change.

But you weren’t yourself fully right then. The knowledge that April had experienced him like you have, experienced the roughness he exhibited with you that you loved so much had sent you into a frenzy. You didn’t know how much of what he was like in bed with you was similar to other girls. And that bothered you much more than you’d like to admit. You wanted to be special for him. And you didn’t want to share that dominant part of him that you loved so much. Especially knowing you were the most submissive girl he’d ever been with. You were more inexperienced than most but you were the only one Michael would react to, the only one who could get him so hot.

You vaguely felt yourself being moved as Michael carried you to the couch, sitting down so you were directly straddling his lap. It was closer than his room and he needed to feel you. All of you. You felt his hand go to the back of your neck to hold you still as his tongue explored your mouth. Your hips ground against his jean-clad crotch desperately.

You were moaning against his kiss and you felt Michael push your hips deeper into his own, groaning under his breath when you pulled away from the kiss. He was left with taking the sight in front of him in. You, moaning and blushing wildly on top of him, your skirt pulled up to your waist and your shirt exposing your cleavage to him. You were a sight for sore eyes.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into you but he wasn’t complaining. Especially not when you lifted your shirt off of you, leaving you bare for him. You were moving quickly.

He was so mesmerized at this pleasant turn of events that had shifted the mood of the afternoon so far that he let you off of his lap easily. He watched as you shed yourself of your skirt and panties and he was quick to follow. He fumbled rapidly with his belt and took his shirt off as quickly as he could with one hand.

He was slightly out of the realm he was used to. He’d always been the one who led your sex life so with you being the one to initiate this once was new to him. But it was so very hot.

When you straddled him again, his length was pressing against his stomach at the feeling of your naked body and pussy on him. His hands traveled through every curve of your body and he made a move to lay you down on the couch and get on top of you but you stopped him.

Part of you worried that Ashton could come back and walk in at any moment and see you two. You tried not to have sex in the shared living space for curtesy to Ashton. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t care at all when it came to being with you. Not about being interrupted or even about being watched. And right then, you didn’t care either.

“Let me ride you.” You sounded so cute when you asked something so dirty and that had him cursing under his breath. He was the dominant one in the relationship, always had been and always will be. So he had never let you be on top before, couldn’t imagine not having complete control. But you needed this, right then. You had something to prove.

Instead of denying you, he just smashed his lips to yours again and nodded. You broke the kiss as you held yourself up to be able to lower yourself onto him. Michael, one of his hand on your waist, spit on his palm and stroked himself with it as you were hovering above him. You were practically dripping on him.

“Fuck, I’m so hard for you, little one.” He muttered as he slowly maneuvered you down onto his big cock. His words, the exact ones you needed to hear, along with the foreign angle for you was a lot to take. His girth stretched you out perfectly and you squeezed your hands on his shoulders as you moaned out his name. You were almost worried about the scratches you could have left on him as you took in the pleasure but you knew you wouldn’t be able to see them through the dark ink that took up nearly every inch of skin on his neck and upper body.

Michael began setting the pace for you as you began bouncing on his dick. He could give up the control of being on top but he was still in charge, always. And you didn’t mind. You constricted your walls against him and sighed out in bliss as he moved you closer to him so that he could drive into you at a faster, more pleasurable pace but also so that your face could be directly at his ear.

Enough for you to whisper, “This is m-my cock.” Your possessive words were more broken and stuttered as the pleasure of riding him was more incredible than you could have imagined. Every time he bottomed out in you, your skin slapping against his thighs, you couldn’t help the loud elongated moan that left you.

Your words were new for you and Michael loved it. Hearing you so possessive over him made a surge of pride flow through him. You were his and he was yours. Just like it was meant to be.

He pulled your hair tightly, making your head pull back with it. Your entire body so much more exposed and vulnerable for him. Even at a moment when you were more serious than usual, your cheeks were still painted red nervously, your bent legs reaching just to his knees as your small figure moved on top of him. That dichotomy had him craving for more of you. Even as he was currently driving into you at a rough pace. He’d never get tired of feeling you around him.

So he moved his hands from your hips and moved to take a hold of your ass so that his control of your pace and movements was practically complete. You were so easy to control. He was lifting you so easily. He moved your lower body at a faster rate that had his cock disappearing into you at a new speed you’d never experienced before. He knew because of the way you gasped out and held onto him weakly, your strength slowly leaving you.

“Oh, yes!” You couldn’t even really close your mouth anymore at the nonstop whines filtering out of you, pairing nicely with Michael’s deep groans and curse words littering out of him. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the feeling of your boyfriend’s big cock filling you to the brim. Your walls hugged him tighter than usual as he squeezed himself into you. He could definitely get used to this position with you.

“Yeah? Gonna make me yours?” He watched your face in fascination as he stopped his pace, holding you still just for him to be able to hold you still and drill into you. He swore he nearly saw his bulge poking near your abdomen and he nearly came right then and there. You were so small and this position was so close spaced. And still you stared at him with the big doe eyes he loved so much and even as you rode him like a fucking whore, you still managed to be the innocent little virginal girl he had fallen for. God, he loved you. How anyone could think you were anything but the embodiment of everything he could ever want was beyond him.

He wasn’t expecting it when you moved to whisper in his ear, “You’re already mine, daddy.”

That was enough for all the self control and sexual tension he had pent up since the moment you left his room and teased him to snap. He was done with giving you even the illusion of control.

Michael flipped you roughly so your back was now on the couch and his large figure eclipsed yours. He wasted no time in taking over the pace completely. He thrusted into you expertly at a rough, bruising snapping pace. One that had you writhing and reaching for anything you could hold on to.

It was like he was waiting for his moment to be able to be on top again because his hand immediately found your neck and choked you deliciously. You took a hold of his tatted wrist but didn’t try to move it and instead just held it as you stared up at him, your mouth open and your eyes crunched up in pleasure.

“That’s right, baby girl. So fucking good.” He groaned as he moved his face closer. “You’re such a fucking slut for my cock and it’s yours. Only yours. Look at you almost drooling for it.”

The sound of skin slapping was louder and more punctuated, matching the volume of your high pitched moans. Still staring down at you, he moaned out as his free hand massaged your tits sensually. “That’s it, moan for daddy.”

His words made your walls tighten around him and his hips stuttered at the feeling. But you needed more, your hips began moving right alongside his thrusts, meeting them with a desperate vigor.

“P-Please.” You were blushing wildly but you weren’t even sure what you were asking for. You just needed more of him so you could know that whatever happened in his past, didn’t matter the moment you came into his life. You were his only and his best.

Michael pushed three fingers against your mouth, all the while choking you harder in the best way possible. When you opened your mouth to him, he wasted no time in shoving his fingers deep into your mouth. You were gagging against his long fingers as he kept them as deeply as possible in your throat. You felt tears at your eyes but you still wanted more.

“Take it.” Michael was watching with dark eyes. “You’ve had me hard all day.” He loved the way your spit coated his fingers as he drew them out of your mouth, trailing them down to where you two were united and began working on your clit. “Wanted to ruin you from the moment you went into my room.”

He leaned down to capture your lips for a quick kiss. “I wouldn’t have cared about ditching her, would’ve fucked you so good you’d be crying like the good little whore you are for me.” He could feel himself ready to cum and the sight of your small body being so destroyed under him was just helping that fact.

Your moans had become more broken and you looked almost delirious with your incoming climax. “Yeah, you like that?” He growled down to you, “You know exactly what I like, taught you so well. Fuck, you’re perfect for me. You’re mine. This cunt was made only for me. No one can even compare.”

And that was exactly what you needed to hear. You came around him, your walls tightening around him as you rode out your high. He never stopped thrusting, even when your cum coated his thighs. In fact, he just groaned out louder.

“Look at you creaming all over my dick.” His thrusts slowed down and his grip on your neck loosened as he reached his own release inside of you. It was a mixture of your tight walls around him and the way you looked so euphoric under him, tears down your cheeks from the pleasure and shaking from your release, the way he knew you had gotten like this because you were claiming him as yours (even though you had nothing to worry about), that did it for him.

He didn’t pull out of you immediately. Instead he enjoyed the feeling of you being so close, so connected to him. Especially when your eyes held such a content glint, a glint that said that all your insecurities had just vanished.

When he did pull out, he glanced down to see the way his cum oozed out of you, he had filled you so good and the sight had him closing his eyes to prevent himself from ravishing you again.

You were both glistening and panting. His tattoos looked even more prominent and you bit your lip, closing your thighs quickly to stop the heat rushing to your belly at the sight. Your boyfriend was so hot. Your body felt like jelly and you didn’t really think you could move even if you wanted to.

Michael moved down to kiss you again. The kiss was open mouthed and heavy even after all you had already done. “I don’t know what just got into you, little one but you were so hot.” He said in between kisses. “I’d say you were jealous but you have nothing to be jealous of.”

His hands was laid on your stomach and he laid himself down as comfortably as he could on the small space. He brought you close to him, burying his face into your neck. You were on top of him as he held you almost like a teddy bear.

You bit your lip and weighed your next words carefully. “I wasn’t jealous just….insecure.”

Michael paused and stared at you, silently. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed just exactly what you said. “I don’t know how you can say shit like that.”

His words were harsh but his gaze was very much worried and protective.

“Is this about the shit April said to you? You should’ve never heard that. And you never will again, I’ll make sure of it. I don’t want you thinking of it, everyone else, her, I don’t fucking care about them, never did.”

You trialed your hand up and down his chest, your eyes never meeting his as you nodded. “I know. It’s not that, it’s just…all these girls have been with you the same way I have and I don’t feel like I have much ground to stand on, especially when what might be so special and new to me isn’t so much to you.”

His hands found your chin and forced your gaze to his serious expression. He hated that his own actions, even if they were from the past, made you feel that way. Especially when he so obviously worshipped you like he never had with anyone before. Your beauty and very person was unmatchable. You were more than special to him.

“You think I’ve fucked other girls like I fuck you? Baby girl, you’re the only one I’ve ever been this way with. I never used pet names or talked to them like I do to you, I always kicked them out right after. You’re the only one who can take me, you have no idea what having you be fucking innocent but still letting me be the only one to touch you does to me. They don’t matter, not compared to you.”

His words filled your body with a sense of love. His words weren’t the most traditional but it meant a lot coming from your blunt boyfriend. You whisper of ‘I love you’ was a soft whisper before you pecked his lips.

His reply came in the form of neck kisses. A lot of them. You weren’t sure if the hickeys he was forming on your neck was for your sake or his. But it felt good either way. Both the sensation of his lips on your skin and the pride of being claimed by him. And you were even prouder to know you were the only would who had ever or will ever wear his marks.

He was right. You had nothing to be insecure about. He was yours.

#michael clifford smut #michael clifford x reader #bad boy smut #jealous smut #bad boy michael #5sos #5sos imagines #5sos smut

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weasleydream · 4 years

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Forever and a day

Hey guys Hope you’ll enjoy and as usual, likes, reblogs and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

(gif not mine)

The night was like the ones you only see in the middle of summer even though it was Christmas. The deep blue sky, almost dark and dotted with thousands of bright stars, was only lightened by the moon, a fantastic crescent illuminating the garden of the Burrow along with Fred and me. The only thing blurring periodically our sight was the cloud forming in front of our mouths when we breathed, except that, this was a magical vision.

The Burrow, as each and every Christmas, was animated and full of joy and laughter. It was awesome, really, but Fred and I had needed a bit of time alone as we hadn’t had a lot of occasions since his departure from Hogwarts, a few months ago. We had escaped the loud cheers, preferring the peaceful silence of the night, accepting the biting cold as it gave us an excuse for cuddling, losing ourselves in the stars.

A particularly violent shiver shook me, and Fred tightened his grip around my waist.

“We can go back inside, if you want.” he said while rubbing my sides with energy.

“No, I want to stay.”

I looked up again to the stars and noticed a few seconds later that Fred’s gaze hadn’t followed mine.

“What? Do I have something on my nose?”

“Except that adorable red colour, no, you have nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s because I love Rudolf the rednosed reindeer.” I declared before chuckling when Fred frowned.

“Is that another muggleborn reference?” he asked. “Dad never told me about this one.”

“I guess you know him as Patrick the red tailed niffler.”

In front of Fred’s incomprehension and once my laughters had eventually calmed down, I explained who Rudolf the rednosed reindeer was.

“And we wonder why muggles don’t believe in magic,” he mumbled. “If they present it like something that childish…”

I didn’t want to debate on the muggle’s capacity of imagining what magic could be - I knew it could turn into a heated argument - and decided to change the subject.

“If nothing was hanging from my nose, then why were you eyeing me so intensely?”

Fred’s cheeks and ears, who were already red because of the freezing air, darkened and I smirked when he scratched the back of his neck, a recurrent gesture that never failed to show when he was nervous.

“That’s because, well, the moonlight… It makes you look, err- it makes you look cool, I mean- Stop laughing, I just wanted to compliment you!”

Indeed, I was laughing softly, melting on the inside because he was so cute when he was nervous… And Fred was almost never nervous. He was always so self confident, such an adorable and cocky boy, yet when he wanted to express his deepest feelings, he became a stuttering mess. And I loved this side of him, way more than the side that always wanted to dye my hair in green, that was for sure.

“And you did well complimenting me, Freddie. The moonlight suits you too pretty well, love.”

And it truly was, from the freckles on his nose that contrasted with his pale skin to the sparkle in his eyes and including his hair that seemed softer than ever, everything of him which was usually awesome appeared just perfect under the moonlight. No kidding, my boyfriend was the best of all.

Fred chuckled, mumbling something that sounded like “Your compliment was still better than mine” and pulled me closer to him. We were sitting on a bench, far enough from the house to be sure nothing - or no one, and especially not George or Ginny - would disturb us. We were still stargazing, both lost in thoughts deeper than the other could imagine, and not necessarily really happy. When a shooting star crossed the sky, that’s all naturally that my dearest wish crossed my mind, and fear flooded suddenly in my body.

I hope we’re all gonna survive this war.

I immediately felt the urge to be comforted by Fred, like every time I thought of the war inexorably approaching, and like every time, he tightened me a bit more and laid soft kisses on my hair.

“It will be okay love. We’ll be okay.”

“How can you be so sure? Fred, it can happen so fast…”

“Y/N, listen to me.” His tone was firm but it was only to make me calm down, I knew it. “As long as I’ll be there, nothing will happen to you, I promise. And as long as you’ll be there, nothing will happen to me because I just cannot bear the thought of you being alone. Do you understand? I’ll be yours for forever, and you’ll be mine for forever. If you keep that in mind, then we’ll stay together.”

Our foreheads were now pressed against each other, and my hands were cupping his cheeks. Fred’s eyes were burning, a flame I had only seen a few times making them shine brighter than the sun. It was pure love. At the moment, I was so scared, so terrified and yet feeling so stupid for doubting of us that I reacted the only way I knew.

“Forever? It isn’t long enough for me, love.”

“Then let’s say for forever and a day.”

“It doesn’t make that much of a difference, does it?”

“A lot can happen in a day.” he whispered before leaning in and pressing his lips against mine.

And as the fire of our love was slowly consuming us, as the cold air seemed to disappear to be replaced by a warm atmosphere, I was so absorbed in the moment, so focused on his lips and his hands, that it never crossed my mind that Fred had expressed his deepest feelings without stuttering once.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Molly, you better tell these delinquents to stop their traffic!”

“That’s not traffic, dear aunt Muriel, that’s business.” said Fred with a smirk before tying an imaginary tie.

Muriel grumbled and threw an imperious glance at Molly, who didn’t do anything but shrugging.

“They don't listen to me, Muriel. I’m sorry.”

This dear old aunt Muriel had accepted to hide her family, the Weasleys being in danger now that everyone knew Ron was with Harry, and Fred had made a scene as he wanted me to hide with them. Muriel had firstly refused, pretending she wouldn’t have the energy to bear one more person.

“Trust me, you’ll never survive with me if she doesn’t come with us.” He had muttered, after what Molly had ordered him to shut up for once and had pleaded my cause.

Muriel hadn’t had any other choice than accepting, and I suspected her to know Fred would have found a way to make me come here anyway. As a revenge, she had decided to be more insufferable than usual, which was an exploit according to George.

“Shut up, it will begin!” suddenly exclaimed Bill, who was here with Fleur for one of the visits that were becoming more and more frequent as the weeks passed.

Everyone gathered around the radio, Muriel complaining that she was busy writing a very important letter - Ginny confessed to me she had read a few sentences, and Muriel was in fact writing to one of the old blabbermouths she had for friends. After several hissing begging her to shut up, we all waited for Lee to begin his emission. We waited, but… Nothing.

“I don’t understand…” muttered Bill. “I thought-”

“Do you think it means something happened to him?” I asked, petrified at the thought that one of my best friends could be hurt because he had always kept bringing us hope.

“No, he’s too smart to be caught.” assured George.

But I caught the worried glance he exchanged with Fred. The silence seemed to last forever, and Bill eventually stopped trying.

“Maybe he just can’t right now,” he said. “I’ll keep trying to catch the signal, we’ll see.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Ginny’s voice was blank, and I turned to see that her face was pale. However, the flame of her determination was burning in her eyes.

“Harry is at Hogwarts, and apparently the fight is for soon.”

Fuck. That was the first thing that came to my mind. As my brain was trying to process what Ginny had said and what it implied, Molly pressed her on with interrogations.

“How do you know that? Ginny, is Ron with him? Is he safe? Ginny!”

Without a word, she handed her mother the false galleon I recognized easily.

“Mum, we’ve got to go to Hogwarts.” said George.

“How?” asked Molly with a quiet voice.

“The Hog’s Head. There’s a tunnel leading to the room of requirements.” replied Ginny.

Molly sighed and murmured she had to warn the order. Fred and George got up in the same movement, and I immediately did the same.

“Y/N, you stay here.”

For a second, I thought it was a joke. A particularly bad one, but a joke. However, I had never seen Fred being so serious. His jaw was clenched and he was frowning, and at the moment his eyes were darker than they had ever been.

“I- what?” I asked in disbelief.

Fred glanced at George before sighing. He grabbed my hand and half dragged me to the room we shared with his twin. He sighed once more and quickly passed a hand in his hair.

“Y/N, I want you to stay here with aunt Muriel.”

“Are you crazy? I won’t stay on the sidelines, Fred. Don’t count on it.”

“Love, please, I just-”

“No!” I yelled. Fred winced. “There’s no way you’re going to fight without me!”

“Love, I just want you to be safe.” He grabbed my hand and lightly kissed my knuckles. “How long will be our forever if something happens to you?”

“Why do you keep thinking I’m the only one who could get hurt? Fred, I know how- how reckless you can be and… And I need to be with you, Fred, I need to be sure you won’t do anything stupid, you understand?”

“And if something happens to me? Y/N, if I die-”

“Don’t say that!” I squealed.

“If I die, who will keep you safe?”

Maybe Fred hadn’t heard me, all absorbed in his thoughts as he was, or maybe he felt the need to get this out of him. I would understand, I was feeling the exact same thing, I wanted to say out loud that maybe I would die too. This way, it would be real, totally real, and I could focus on something else. The way of keeping us alive, for example. But if something had to happen to Fred, if despite all my efforts, his fate was to leave me, then I knew what I would have to do. It was obvious.

“If you die,” I murmured, “then I’ll make sure our forever is still a thing.”

“Don’t say that. Y/N, please, don’t say such a thing. I- I forbid you to… Y/N, if I die- if I don’t make it out alive, promise me- promise me you’ll live. No matter what love, I need to know you’ll carry on.”

“Only if you promise the same.”

And that promise was sealed with the saddest kiss we had ever shared, our tears giving it a salty taste, our hands grabbing the other’s clothes in the same way you grip on the last thing that makes you alive. And it was true; at the moment, Fred was the only thing that helped me stay sane, and I had the firm conviction that our survival depended on each other.

From the moment I had stepped in the room of requirements until the moment everything had gone black around me, from the moment Fred had made me swear to stay next to him until the moment I had lost him between two green flashes of light, from the moment I had stumbled upon Percy to the moment I had run into Fred’s arms, my own body had been controlled by the most primitive survival instinct. A rage I didn’t suspect had taken over me, making me kill enemy after enemy, without ever considering the fact that they were human. One the wrong side, maybe, despicable, for sure, but still human, with maybe children that were waiting for them at home. Not one second did I think of anything else than being enveloped in Fred’s arms after the end of the war, enjoying our victory hopefully without any loss and living our life like we deserved. But I had to get through this, I had promised him I would, and he had promised me too.

I was unable to open my eyes, my body being entirely sore and my head seeming on the verge of the explosion. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move to get rid of this small pebble that was planting itself in my shoulder blade. The blood was rushing behind my ears, and the sound was not without recalling the sound of a river. It was somehow soothing.

And slowly, or as it seemed for me as I didn’t have any way to measure time, the adrenaline in my veins disappeared, letting my heart beat less quickly and I could eventually hear what surrounded me. At first, it only sounded like a buzzing, and some noises gradually distinguished themselves. Steps near my head. Loud voices. Laughters. Cries. And after the hearing, it was my sight that came back to normal.

The light surrounding me was forming a bright halo behind my closed eyelids. When my eyes were finally used to such a brightness, they flickered open. The very first thing I saw was a bunch of vaults above me, some of them half destructed and the sky being visible in some places. The second thing I saw was a glimpse of red hair. A smile immediately stretched my lips before disappearing. It was George, and something was wrong.

“George?” I asked quietly, my throat being so sore that this only world almost made me throw up.

When George looked at me with puffy red eyes, my stomach twisted into a painful knot. It took a lot of energy for me to do something as simple as looking around me, but nowhere did I see the smile I needed. I wanted to ask him where Fred was, if everyone was okay, but I only managed to moan weakly. Much to my horror, tears flooded from George’s eyes and he pulled me against him without an ounce of delicacy. He just tightened me against his chest, clutching desperately on the back of my shirt, loud sobs shaking his shoulders. Without even knowing what had happened - or knowing it but refusing to believe it - I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him as tight as I could, feeling the tears rolling on my cheeks despite myself.

George cried for a long time, and so did I without even being fixed on why we were such a wreck at the moment. When finally he stopped crying, he pushed me back just enough to look at me in the eyes without letting go of my shoulders. And when I looked into these eyes I knew so well and not only because they looked like Fred’s, when I saw the most heart wrenching desperation I could ever see, I slowly understood. And slowly, I felt the same desperation invading my eyes, and an excruciating pain taking over my body, because he had promised. He had promised nothing would happen to him.

George grabbed my hand and without a word, he helped me get up. My legs were too weak to support my own weight, let alone the weight of my pain, and I clung onto him like the lifeline that prevented me from drowning in my sorrow. We walked slowly, one step after the other, and it felt like we were struggling against a powerful courant. When they saw us, George’s siblings - I couldn’t recognize who - stepped backward, none of them saying anything. Another step, and another. Arthur helped Molly get up, and she obliged in a painful sob.

When she got up, I saw Fred’s body.

His clothes were torn and dirty. Blood covered the fabric and his skin. His eyes were closed, and he was still smiling. But he was dead.

My knees gave up on me and I fell on the ground. I grabbed his hand desperately, his skin was as cold as ice and I didn’t recognize its touch, which used to bring me so much comfort because it was always so warm. And the tears were continuously rolling, blinding me whereas I wanted to memorize each detail of his face. Then the sobs arrived, all more painful than the precedent but still pleasant compared to the pain in my heart. George was crying next to me, an arm still around my shoulders, and we stayed like this for a long time.

The night was falling on the castle, yet what remained from the Great Hall was still full of broken souls like George and I. People who weren’t ready to leave the last place they had seen their loved ones. George’s family had come back to the Burrow, preferring to mourn Fred in the intimacy of their house, but we weren’t ready yet. We were still sitting on the ground, in front of an empty place where Fred’s body had been laying before being carried away.

We were staring blankly in front of us, George’s arm around my shoulder and my head resting on his, probably doing the same thing, namely recalling Fred.

“I didn’t say I loved him…” My throat was sore after all the sobs that had shaken my body, yet I needed to say it, because the guilt and the regrets were suffocating me.

“He knew it.” replied George, his voice as weak as mine and oh so broken.

And I couldn’t know it, but George was remembering the last time Fred had rambled about me in front of him. “You have no idea on how much I love her, Georgie.” he had said with a goofy smile. “I would do anything for her… She’s the love of my life, I know it. You know what? When all of this is over, I’ll marry her.”

“He knew it and he loved you too, Y/N.”

“And he loved you too. He was so proud of you, George.”

And we burst into tears, hugging each other with the same strength we wanted to hug Fred with, with the desperation we shared of having lost one of the most important persons in our lives.

We cried because Fred was dead and at the moment, it felt like we would always cry because this loss was too much for us to bear.

“I’ll be yours for forever, and you’ll be mine for forever. If you keep that in mind, then we’ll stay together.”

“Forever? It isn’t long enough for me, love.”

“Then let’s say for forever and a day.”

“It doesn’t make that much of a difference, does it?”

I was so stupid, because now, I would give anything for just one more day with you.

One day to say I love you.

One day to live the forever we deserved.

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #angst

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irishseeeker · 3 years

Link

rules don’t apply - chapter three

Having a crush on your boss is embarrassing. Inappropriate. Wrong. Especially when your boss is Anthony Bridgerton, the most insufferable man on the planet whom you actively despise.

What does Kate have to say on the matter?

…No comment.

read chapter 1 here or here

read chapter 2 here or here

chapter 3: hold onto your leash

“Kate.”

Kate didn’t know where she was. She was sitting in a chair behind a wooden desk, which was covered with various files, a laptop and multiple picture frames. The frames were blurred and she couldn’t make out the faces. Everything looked familiar, but she felt completely out of place. Something felt..off. Everything looked fuzzy, her vision was slightly blurred and the air slightly darker, as if there was a shadow over her.

She noticed him then, he stood in front of her, glowing like an angel.

She could see him crystal clear.

What was Anthony Bridgerton doing in her office?

He wasn’t wearing his usual work attire. He was wearing the suit he wore at the gala, except his collar was untucked and loose, his tie no longer wrapped around his neck.

His lips were slightly swollen, tints of red smudged across his pink lips.

Her reflection became clear in a small compact mirror open on her desk. More importantly, she could see the bright red lipstick slightly smudged on her lips.

What was going on?

His voice sent shivers down her spine as he said her name, enunciating each letter, his voice low, rough like gravel.

“What do you want, Kate?”

She opened her mouth but she couldn’t speak, nothing would come out. All she could do was gape as he walked towards her, around her desk, slowly coming to a stop as he stood in front of her. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his muscular forearms.

He moved closer, she could count the splatter of freckles across his nose as he closed the inches between their lips. One, two, three, four, five-

Kate woke up with a gasp. Newton let out a whine beside her, scowling at being woken up.

“Sorry bud,” She said, her breath hot and heavy as she scratched her corgi’s ears.

She did not just dream of Anthony Bridgerton. He was her worst nightmare.

Kate grabbed her phone, flicking open her google app and tapping impatiently at the screen as she typed her search.

What does it mean when you have a dream about your boss?

She flung her phone away from her, hearing it land on the duvet. What the bloody hell was she doing?

Kate had spent the previous day in bed with her sister, staying off her phone and eating takeaway while they watched movies all day. She needed any distraction from the article published. She even let Edwina convince her to do some yoga on Youtube. When she did pick up her phone last night, she flicked through some of the comments left under the article.

I thought you had to be pretty to be a gold digger?

Her sister is much prettier than she is

who even is she?

She quickly opened another bottle of wine to distract herself from the sinking feeling in her stomach.

How could she ever show her face in work again? What would everybody think? There was absolutely no truth to that article, but the truth had never been something people were concerned about when reading gossip.

Kate was hardly a scandal, she was a nobody. Anthony Bridgerton, on the other hand, was not.

She eventually got out of bed, washing her hair and exfoliating away the anxiety and dread that clung to her skin. She ate breakfast with Newton after getting dressed, opening her balcony doors and leaning against the railing as she looked out at London on a Sunday morning.

The air was bitter but the sun was shining despite it being winter, and Kate needed to clear her head and walk Newton. She texted Edwina, who suggested they grab a coffee and walk in the park. Edwina was a morning person, she had already been up for hours and had been to a pilates class.

Kate, on the other hand, had to set five alarms to get up on time and considered her walk to work sufficient exercise.

Cameras started flashing everywhere. Her eyes stung as the flashes started to blind her, she could barely make out Newton barking at her feet or the swarms of people waving a camera in her face.

“Kate Sheffield!”

“Kate, when did you and Anthony Bridgerton start dating?”

“Is it serious?”

“Will we be hearing wedding bells soon?”

Kate momentarily froze, gaping at the blinding flashes. What the hell was going on? How did they know where she lived?

“This is private property. You need to leave right now.” Her neighbour, a middle aged woman called Agnes Danbury, had appeared at her side. The woman tended to appear out of nowhere, trapping you in a conversation that wouldn’t finish until she was done. Kate actually liked her a lot, the woman just scared her a little. “Go out the back, darling. Through the car park.”

Kate hastily turned around and ran back into the building, down the steps and to the car park. She exited through the back entrance, which led to an empty road. She sprinted down the end of her road, away from the photographers and down the steps to her tube station. She got lost in the swarm of people in the busy station and by the time she turned around, panting, she did not see a camera in sight. She put her sunglasses on, pulled her beanie down lower on her head and cuddled Newton to her chest.

She wasn’t bothered after that, the ride on the tube and arrival at Hyde Park station was uneventful. Kate was shaken and paranoid as she glanced around her, but no one actually cared about her. It was Bridgerton they cared about. Newton was happily toddling along beside her as they entered the park gates. Edwina was on the other side of the park, near the pond, waiting with their coffees.

“Kate?”

The blood in her veins turned cold. She knew that voice anywhere. It was the unfortunate voice that she had become accustomed to hearing five days a week, a voice she did not get paid enough to listen to, a voice she could not get out of her head and now dreams.

Anthony Bridgerton stood behind her, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead as he stood in front of her. He had clearly been running, his flushed cheeks and damp t-shirt clung to his skin.

He looked good.

Why did he have to look good?

This was not the time to get distracted, Kate.

“Are you following me?” Kate managed to speak, flexing her fingers that weren’t holding Newton’s lead.

“What?” She couldn’t read his face. He didn’t look displeased to see her, which he usually did-but he didn’t look happy, either. He looked pensive. If she had seen him first, she would have run in the opposite direction or hid behind a tree.

He, for some reason, had approached her.

“Are you following me?” She repeated, bending down to scratch Newton’s ears. She needed something to do other than blankly stare at him.

“Why would I be following you?”

“Oh, so this is just a coincidence then?”

“I run in this park everyday,” Anthony said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. “I have lived near it for years. So, yes. This is purely a coincidence.”

“Alright.” That was slightly embarrassing, but Kate was more preoccupied with getting away from him, getting away from this conversation and getting away from the thoughts spiraling in her head.

“Kate, wait.”

“No.”

“What?” He sounded exasperated, letting out a deep sigh as he appeared at her side.

“I am not doing this,” She said, gesturing between them. “We’re in public. Someone could see. I do not have the mental capacity to deal with you right now.”

“I presume you saw the article,” He said, putting his right foot on a bench to tie his shoelace. He looked completely unbothered, as if the events in the last two days hadn’t had any affect on his life whatsoever.

Two could play that game.

She just wouldn’t play it looking directly at him because he was bent over slightly and his shorts were rather right, which gave Kate the perfect view of his rather nice-

Kate, no.

“What article?” Kate simply shrugged her shoulders, her eyes flickering around the park. She didn’t see any photographers or anything unusual, which made it slightly easier to breathe. She needed to find Edwina and get away from him.

“Don’t play stupid, it doesn’t suit you.”

Kate narrowed her eyes. “You really have a way with women, don’t you?”

“My ways have never failed me before,” He replied, smirking smugly at her.

She mimed gagging. “It’s a Sunday. We are not working. I have no obligation whatsoever to talk to you.”

Anthony simply rolled his eyes.

It was incredible how she could be so attracted and annoyed by a man at the same time.

“Could we try to have a civilized, mature conversation? For once?” His voice was almost pleading, he still had his usual stern, arrogant tone but there was a hint of desperation in it.

He might actually feel bad.

“I don’t know, can we?” Kate mimicked him, making a sour face. She may be the problem here. She swiftly changed the subject.

“There were a lot of photographers outside of my flat. How did they figure out where I live?” Kate still hadn’t figured that out and it worried her beyond belief. She might stay at Mary’s for the next few days, Edwina’s flat was too small for anything more than a night.

Anthony’s face fell and he looked as if he felt bad for her. “You would be surprised how quickly the media can work. I’m sorry that happened, I really am.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

“The article doesn’t mean anything, Kate.”

“That is quite easy for you to say. Do you have any idea how this looks for me? You’re my boss. It’s inappropriate. I have to go to work tomorrow and face everyone. It’s mortifying. What everyone is probably thinking-” Kate would usually be embarrassed by such a display of emotions, how high pitched her voice was and the anguish in her face-but she wasn’t even thinking about that.

She was slowly coming to terms with the consequences of the events of this weekend.

The realization hit her and she felt quite faint.

It was that or the sprint to the tube station earlier-she was really unfit.

“I’m going to have to quit and move to Australia.”

“What?” Anthony said, his eyes bulging out his eye sockets as he stared in bewilderment at her. “You’re not quitting-what?”

If he hadn’t thought she was mad before, that ship had definitely sailed. Anthony’s voice had increased a pitch as he spoke and he looked scared.

“I don’t do well in hot climates. I grew up in Somerset, where it rains most of the year, for fuck sake. I’m also not a fan of spiders and snakes.” Kate groaned, covering her eyes with her hands. “They’re the size of Newton over there. My sister still has to remove them from my flat.”

“Would you calm down?”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Kate said, shaking her head profusely. “That’s the one thing you don’t say when you want someone to calm down. I have no reason to be calm.”

“You’re not moving to Australia,” Anthony said, trying to give her a reassuring look but it just came across as him looking slightly constipated. “It doesn’t matter what anybody thinks. Our personal relationship has nothing to do with our professional relationship. If anyone in work has anything to say, they can say it directly to me. Then they’ll get fired.”

It was Kate’s turn to roll her eyes and snort. “There’s definitely a human resources issue in there. Oh, well, that makes everything better than. Problem sorted.”

He was rather calm about the whole situation, really. It was infuriating. “Those gossip articles mean nothing, Kate. It will blow over in a few days and everybody will move onto the next story. That’s how it works.”

“That’s just amazing. I’ll just be known as another notch on your bed frame. I’ll have to add that to my CV.”

��I have a lot more experience with this than you,” Anthony said, his mouth forming a flat line. “I have been subjected to this for years-I do know what I’m talking about.”

“Yes, well, I haven’t. I never asked to be. It’s my worst nightmare. There were cameras outside of my flat this morning. They knew where I lived. That is terrifying. The comments online were much kinder to you than they were to me.”

“I know.” He actually sounded sincere and she felt a pang of guilt for being so rude to him. A slight pang of guilt. “I wanted to reach out and apologize. I wasn’t sure if it would make it worse to hear from me, given that we have never exactly seen eye to eye. I was going to speak with you tomorrow at work. I’ll send security to your flat tomorrow for when you go to work.”

Kate scoffed, rolling her eyes. Honestly, rich people. “I don’t need security.”

“Yes you do. They’ll harass you for a few days and then eventually stop. It’s not a discussion, Kate. This is a safety issue.”

“Okay. Fine.” Kate conceded, letting out a deep breath. If he really was concerned, that worried her. She wasn’t used to this type of attention. “Thank you. Send me the bill.”

How much was security? She’d had a shop online last night after a few glasses of wine and had bought clothes she definitely didn’t need, and her bank account had been hit hard.

It was his turn to scoff. “You are not going to pay.”

“I am going to pay-” Kate protested, but Anthony didn’t let her finish.

“Do you argue over everything? Or is this special treatment just reserved for me?”

“You do pay me to argue. Maybe work on your personality and I wouldn’t argue with you so much.” “Thank you, though-but only this time.”

Newton barked loudly. They broke eye contact with each other and stared down at Newton, whose tongue was wagging happily out of his mouth. He circled around Anthony, jumping up and down eagerly.

“He’s a bit overweight.”

Kate’s jaw dropped and she gasped. “You are so rude. He’s a corgi, his rolls keep him warm! He probably heard that!”

“He’s a dog.” Anthony glanced down at Newton, quite unimpressed.

Of course Anthony Bridgerton didn’t like dogs. He probably didn’t like anything that caused any joy.

“Newton,” She said, particularly emphasizing that he had a name and was not just ‘dog’, “-is incredibly intelligent.”

They both simultaneously glanced back at Newton, who was sprinting in a small circle, trying and failing to chase his tail.

Anthony hummed, his eyes bulging slightly that infuriated Kate further. “I’m sure.”

“Please do not project your insecurities onto my dog.”

“My insecurities? I’m quite confident in my body.” His cocky smirk infuriated her more. His tight t-shirt was not helping the situation.

Kate swore she could see the outline of his chest, the faint lines of his abdominal muscles were clinging to the west material of his t-shirt.

“Good for you.” Kate managed to conjugate.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with my body, Kate?”

“I don’t think about your body at all.” Liar, liar.

“We both know that’s not true, Miss Sheffield.”

Newton saved Kate from replying by jumping onto Anthony, his paws resting on the thin material of his shorts covering his thighs.

“Down, dog. Sit.” Anthony pointed at the ground, and to Kate’s surprise, he sat. She usually had to bribe him with some ham to do any tricks.

She needed to make a swift exit. “We have to get going. My sister is waiting for-oh!”

Newton sprinted away from them, jumping from his sitting position and charging off so ferociously he yanked the lead right out of Kate’s grip. Kate landed flat on her face.

She felt Anthony’s hands on her waist, easily pulling her off the grand. Kate spat out a mouthful of grass, ignoring the tingling feeling his fingertips left as she stood up, immediately taking off after her dog.

“Newton, no! Come back!”

“Can’t you call him back?” Anthony said, easily catching up with her as they sprinted after the dog. They had gathered a few people’s attention, it was an interesting sight-two people running after a manic dog.

“Thank god you’re here. I never would have thought of that one on my own.” Kate cast a disgruntled glare at him before squinting her eyes to make out Newton’s little figure, a good bit ahead of them.

“Newton!” She roared after him, but the runaway corgi paid them little attention.

Kate felt like she was going to vomit. She had to stop, coming to an abrupt halt to bend over. She was panting heavily, resting her hands on her knees. She may have been dressed in running gear, a jumper and leggings-but she had never actually ran in them.

“I think I’m going to get sick,” Kate said, half-panting, half heaving. Her stomach was not feeling good.

Anthony, who stopped a few meters ahead of her, glanced back at her unimpressed. He wasn’t even sweating. “We’ve ran about fifty meters.”

“I’m failing to see your point,” Kate said, biting her bottom lip hard before mustering the strength to take off again. She needed to find Newton-she wasn’t worried he would run off, he had severe attachment issues, as did Kate-but he would make it difficult for her in the meantime.

“Don’t you exercise?” He asked, easily jogging beside her. He still hadn’t broken a sweat and Kate couldn’t stop, the beads of sweat trailing down her forehead.

“I don’t have the time.” She wasn’t willing to try to find the time. She worked, she spent time with her family and Newton and she slept. An exciting life, truly.

Anthony, rather judgmentally, snorted. “We have a free gym in the building at work. It’s about making time, Kate. I exercise everyday.”

“Would you like a medal?” Kate tried to sound unimpressed, her tone flat and dull. It wasn’t news to her, he had raised a lot of money last year for the marathon and it had been advertised all around the building.

Kate had been treated to Anthony Bridgerton’s face everywhere for a whole month before the marathon. She not only had to see his smug face in person daily but she had been subjected to it on newsletters, in emails, on badges and on bloody biscuits.

“I have plenty, thanks,” He said swiftly, his usual arrogant tone alive and well. It was the voice he used in meetings at work when they were arguing over something and he was trying to irritate her-it usually worked. “I was captain of the rugby team at school and at Oxford. I also ran the London Marathon last year.”

“You’re so modest.” Kate laughed as he scowled at her sarcastic tone. His achievements were quite impressive, she had donated to his fundraiser last year-she just wasn't going to inflate his ego any further. “I pass the gym everyday and I swear I’ll go tomorrow. The thing is, I really couldn’t be arsed.”

Kate fell off a treadmill last year and still hadn’t emotionally recovered. It would be a cold day in hell before she stepped foot in a gym again.

“You should. It’s a good stress reliever. You always look so disgruntled every time I see you.”

Charming.

“That’s because I have to see you everyday.” Kate chimed back, shooting him a short smile before coming to a stop, beginning to walk towards Newton. They were getting closer and closer to Newton, who had been trotting around the same area of grass in the distance.

“Get him,” Anthony loudly whispered, interrupting their back and forth as he pointed towards Newton who was now rolling in a patch of dirt.

“I'm trying!" Kate shouted back, trying to keep her voice low as she reached out her hands. Her plan to pounce and grab Newton carefully before he could sprint away. "Stop distracting me. I need to get my dog. My dog, who now needs a bath and ran away, which are both completely your fault.” She was so close Newton, who still hadn’t noticed them.

Anthony was walking in front of Newton, trying to stay out of his eyeline by approaching from the side. It wasn't too difficult-Newton was quite oblivious.

“How is any of this my fault?” Anthony snapped, glaring at her from across the flowerbed as he creeped around it. “I am spending my Sunday helping you catch your beast-”

“Watch your mouth, Newton is an angel. I didn’t ask you to! I’m here because I came out to clear my head because of what you’ve done-” Kate argued, it seemed they could last a minute until they resumed bickering.

“What I’ve done?” He gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing. It was worrying how good it made her feel to make Anthony Bridgerton speechless.

“What have you done?” She was focusing on steadying her breath and controlling her panting, creeping closer and closer to Newton. She was seriously unfit. “Exist, specifically. I ended up in Lady Whistledown because of you! All because you enticed me into your fancy cars with snacks-”

“Enticed you?” It was more of an accusation than a question. “I was being nice. I can't help what the media write about me I was offering you a lift home. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“That’s fine by me!”

“Excellent”

“Great!”

“Fantastic.”

“Superb.”

Kate was going to run out of adjectives soon.

Anthony ran a hand through his hair, stopping in the middle of the flowerbed, glaring at her. "You...you are an absolute menace, do you know that? I have never in my life encountered such a frustrating-”

“A menace?” Kate snorted at the insult. “Do you always talk as if you’re from the 1800s?”

Newton spotted Kate and Anthony, narrowly avoiding Kate’s leap towards her. “Shit! Newton, come back here right now!”

Kate’s stomach dropped as she saw exactly what Newton had spotted and was now running towards.

The pond.

“Newton, no!”

“Isn’t he trained? Tell him to stop! Stop, dog!” Anthony shouted at her, his jaw clenched so tightly he looked like he was in pain.

“Yes,” Her voice wavered slightly, glaring right back at him. “He’s a dog. He’s having fun!” Truthfully, Newton had been asked to leave the three training courses Kate had signed them up for. Anthony was not going to know that.

“Kate!” Edwina waved her hand in the air. She was standing in front of the pond, a circle of ducks crowded in front of her. She appeared to be feeding them crumbs, a bagel waving in her hand.

She had completely forgotten about meeting her sister.

“Edwina.” Kate was roaring at her sister, waving her arms frantically. Edwina didn’t seem phased by her sister’s frazzled state at all. Kate wasn’t usually this dramatic, was she? “Move! He’s going to go for the bagel!”

Anthony had joined in on her shouting, but it was too late.

Newton launched himself at Edwina, specifically at the baked good in her hand-pushing her straight into the unbarricaded pond.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #bridgerton fanfiction #ao3 #my fics #modern AU #so sorry for the delay on this one #newton is the main character that is all #kate x anthony

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suituuup · 4 years

Text

aloha

Beca and Chloe are on their honeymoon in Hawaii

Written for @thedilemmacontinues for their generous contribution to @ppfandomdrive. Thank you, hope you enjoy! :)

rated: E

word count: 4k

AO3 link

Beca is rarely the first to wake up.

On week days, Chloe has to leave the house every morning at 7:00am while Beca gets to stay in bed a little longer, as she only needs to get in the office between 9 and 9:30. Chloe always brings her a freshly brewed cup of coffee in bed - black with one sweetener - just before she has to leave and kisses a still half-asleep Beca goodbye.

They get to spend more time together at night, as Chloe finishes her shift at the clinic at four and Beca never comes home later than five.

They've been making up for the last few busy weeks over the last three days. Beca’s label booked a gorgeous, secluded villa in Hawaii for them as a wedding gift, and she and Chloe have been thoroughly enjoying their honeymoon so far.

Beca sighs as she comes to, giving in to a lazy stretch before her eyes fully open. She catches the glint of the platinum wedding band around her finger as the morning light bounces on it, and yet again feels the need to pinch herself.

She’s married. To Chloe. Her best friend, the love of her life and the most incredible human being Beca knows.

Had you told Beca when she landed in Barden that’s where she’d be in ten years, she would have asked you if you were high.

It hasn’t been all rainbows and butterflies of course, especially because Beca was a useless gay for the better part of that decade, but she eventually pulled her head out of her ass and told Chloe how she really felt.

The four years following that day have pretty much been domestic bliss.

Beca twists her head, then shifts onto her side. Chloe’s head is turned away as she lies on her stomach, but Beca knows from Chloe’s steady breathing that she’s still asleep. The sheet pooled to Chloe’s waist at some point during the night, gracing Beca with quite the view to wake up to. Her eyes dance over the lines of Chloe’s back, her skin a couple shades darker and lightly freckled from spending the last three days sunbathing by the pool.

Chloe adopted a nudist lifestyle since their arrival, strolling about naked pretty much all the time. Beca wasn’t totally on board at first, concerned that paparazzis might have learned about their location and would snap pictures of her naked wife through the bushes, or that neighbors would catch a glimpse. She eventually accepted the fact that they were very much isolated from the outside world and the next house was at least a couple miles away.

Beca reaches out, fingers dipping underneath the sheet to brush over Chloe’s hip as she leans forward and presses a feather-light kiss to the top of Chloe’s spine, then another right below. She keeps going just like that, taking her time and shuffling down the mattress as her lips move across Chloe’s skin. Eventually, the sheet presents an obstacle to her progression, so Beca tugs it down inch by inch, exposing Chloe’s perfect butt. She kisses the dimple right above Chloe’s left asscheek, smirking when she feels Chloe stir.

“Whatcha doing?” Comes Chloe’s raspy question, her amusement leaking through her tone.

“Appreciating my wife’s gorgeous body,” Beca replies, catching Chloe’s eye when Chloe shifts on her back. Beca props her chin on Chloe’s hip, one arm draped across her legs while her other hand reaches up to push a red curl behind Chloe’s ear.

“Sweet talker,” Chloe murmurs, catching Beca’s hand and brushing a kiss to her palm. “But don’t feel like you have to stop just because I’m awake.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Beca murmurs back, pressing a kiss to Chloe’s skin before shuffling to the end of the bed until her knees touch the floor. She settles on her stomach between Chloe’s legs, which instantly part when Chloe registers Beca’s intentions. Beca hooks both Chloe’s legs over her shoulders, nipping and kissing the inside of her thigh until she reaches her destination.

Chloe’s already wet, and that fact sends a chill rolling down Beca’s spine. “You’re so fucking hot,” she whispers, locking eyes with Chloe as she presses a few kisses to Chloe’s glistening lower lips and hooded clit.

“Bec,” Chloe whimpers, her hips greedily rolling towards Beca’s face. “Don’t tease, baby.”

They’ve been kicking off each day with morning sex, sometimes slow, sometimes a little wilder, according to the mood. Chloe seems to be needing her release sooner than later this morning, and Beca can only oblige, knowing they’re bound to have several rounds today anyway.

Her tongue parts Chloe’s folds and dips inside of her, Beca humming against her when the sweetness of Chloe’s juices coats her taste buds. She keeps her eyes open, the sight of Chloe arching and tilting her head back in pleasure from her ministrations one Beca will most likely never get tired of.

Beca knows Chloe’s body like the back of her hand; what she likes and what drives her wild. One hand drifts up to palm Chloe’s breast while the other sneaks under Chloe’s thigh, Beca slipping two fingers inside Chloe’s tight heat as her lips wrap around her swollen clit.

Chloe’s fingers scrape along her scalp, tightening around locks of hair when she inches closer to her release. Beca doubles down in her efforts, picking up her pace and curling her fingers each time until her name flits past Chloe’s lips in a broken cry. Her walls clamp down on Beca’s fingers and that sweet moan of bliss echoes in a sweet loop in Beca’s mind.

Beca takes her time, lapping at Chloe’s juices and peppering her sex with kisses while Chloe comes down. She makes her way back up, half draping herself over Chloe to kiss her languidly.

“Mm,” Chloe hums against her lips, nuzzling Beca’s nose as they part. Her fingers start tracing nonsensical patterns at the base of Beca’s spine. “Best way to kick off the day.”

“I love you,” Beca murmurs, sighing softly as she angles her head into the crook of Chloe’s neck.

“I love you, too.”

They fall silent, and Beca is in no rush to have Chloe return the favor, perfectly content with just lying there pressed up against Chloe’s warm body as the sunshine pours through the open windows, the ocean breeze occasionally sweeping in.

She dozes off a few minutes later, lulled by the gentle, rhythmic sound of the waves as they roll onto the beach in front of the house and the featherlight pattern of Chloe’s touch along her lower back.

When she wakes, Beca is alone in bed. Chloe’s spot is still somewhat warm and Beca grabs Chloe’s pillow, hugging it to her chest and inhaling her wife’s scent as she allows her eyes another minute’s rest. The smell of fresh coffee and bacon eventually drags her out of bed. She pads downstairs, across the spacious living room with the jaw-dropping view and into the kitchen, looping her arms around Chloe’s waist.

“Morning,” Beca rasps, pressing a series of kisses along the side of Chloe’s neck. “Can I help?”

“Nope,” Chloe replies, twisting her head and accepting the kiss Beca lies on her lips. “Coffee’s ready.”

“Thanks babe.” Beca squeezes the dip of Chloe’s waist and makes a beeline for the cup already waiting on the counter for her. She cradles it between her hands, enjoying the soothing warmth seeping through her palms. “You wanna go to the beach today?”

Chloe pours the eggs into the waiting pan, then turns to Beca. “I was thinking we could go for a hike?”

Beca grimaces before she can help herself. “Really? You wanna… exercise? On vacation?”

A giggle puffs past Chloe’s lips as she stirs the scrambled eggs. “Yeah. It’s beautiful out there, I wanna check it out.”

Beca grumbles something inaudible behind the rim of her mug before she takes a sip.

“You know, when we have kids we’ll do plenty of outdoor stuff.”

Beca cocks an eyebrow at that. She freaked out a little bit when Chloe first brought up the subject of wanting kids a year before they got engaged. She’s made some progress since, knowing that as long as Chloe is by her side that raising another human being won’t be so terrifying.

“Oh yeah?” She says, keeping her amusement at bay. “So um, when do you see that happening, exactly?” Softly, she adds, “Us having kids.”

Chloe shrugs. “Not anytime soon. I’m not ready to share you, yet.” She pushes a kiss to Beca’s lips on her way to get a couple plates. “Maybe we could start trying in two years to three years? Like, choosing a donor and stuff.”

Beca nods, the imagery of a mini-Chloe or mini-Beca running around their home popping in her head and making her heart flutter. “Sounds perfect.”

Chloe winks at her as she plates their breakfast. “So that’s a yes on the hike?” She asks, popping a piece of watermelon in her mouth.

Beca lets out a pained sigh, aware Chloe knows she can make her do anything (she did draw the line at parading around naked, though). “I guess so.”

Beca wasn’t prepared for how hot and humid it was going to get during that hike. Or how much incline she’d have to climb. Honestly, doesn’t Chloe know by now that endurance and cardio are not part of Beca’s DNA??

“Are we almost there, Chlo?” Beca sputters, doubling over with her hands planted on her hips as she pants.

She’s a sweaty mess, her hair is acting up because of the humidity and she’s pretty sure she’s got a sunburn on the back of her thighs.

“Not sure,” Chloe mumbles as she squints at her phone. “I think we were supposed to see the sign by now, it says so on the app. Take a left at the sign and follow the trail up.”

“Up?” Beca whines, using her shirt to wipe her forehead. “Jesus Christ. Not married a week and you might kill me.”

“I promise it’ll be worth it in the end,” Chloe says, barely showing any signs of fatigue as she smiles brightly. She pecks Beca’s lips and slaps her butt lightly. “Come on, babe.”

“Ugh,” Beca grunts, dragging her feet more than necessary as they resume their journey. “You’re lucky I love you, woman.”

Chloe simply chuckles. “Oh! I see the sign. It’s right over there.” She points to the direction board at the end of the narrow trail, then promptly breaks into song, much to Beca’s horror. “I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign.”

“How soon after getting married can one ask for divorce?” Beca deadpans, catching a playful glare from her wife. “Shoulda put that in the prenup. No freakin’ Ace of Base.”

It takes another grueling half hour, but they eventually make it up to the top of the mountain. Beca’s afraid she might die from overheating and chugs down half a liter of water in one go.

Only after she’s convinced her heart isn’t going to give does she actually take in the landscape, and the air is knocked out of her lungs for another reason than the physical exertion. They have an amazing view of the ocean surrounded by the lushy hills, the sky a watercolor of pink and orange hues as the sun dips into the horizon.

“Wow,” Beca breathes, taking it all in. Chloe was right; it’s definitely worth the shortness of breath, the aching muscles and the sweat.

“C’mere,” Chloe requests, tugging Beca into her side so they’re standing with their backs to the view and raising her phone. Beca doesn’t have time to protest about looking gross, besides, Chloe would say she always looks cute anyway. She brushes a kiss to Chloe’s cheek for one of the selfies, and Chloe turns her head to kiss her lips for the next one.

They stay at the top of the hill another twenty minutes, making their way back down before it gets too dark.

“Instagram worthy enough?” Beca asks as she plops down on the couch next to her wife, handing her a glass of red wine. They got home over an hour ago, relaxed in a bubble bath and dinner is now on the way.

Chloe’s been posting a photo of them a day along with a cheesy caption on her instagram page, and Beca likes to tease her about it.

Chloe smiles, angling the phone towards her so she can see the one she picked. Beca didn’t even notice it at the time, but she’s staring at Chloe’s profile instead of directly at the camera, and the look in her eyes can only be described as unconditional love. No matter how many photos Beca sees of herself staring at Chloe that way, it always catches her off guard.

For someone who’s so shy about sharing her feelings out loud, it’s weird to see them displayed so transparently.

“My badass rep is going to take another blow if you post that one,” she grumps, throwing Chloe a heatless glare.

“Your badass rep,” Chloe echoes, smirking. “Right.”

Beca huffs, shoving Chloe lightly. “Shut up.”

Giggling, Chloe all but unceremoniously climbs onto Beca’s lap, looping her arms around her neck and pressing a series of kisses to Beca’s mouth. Beca’s hands settle on Chloe’s hips and she chases Chloe’s lips for a longer, deeper kiss that warms her entire body from the inside out.

“Dinner’s going to be here any minute,” she mumbles when Chloe starts kissing along the edge of her jaw and down her neck, her words and actions at odd with each other as she cranes her head to give Chloe’s lips better access.

“We can warm it up,” Chloe husks into her ear. She stands when the doorbell rings, extending her hands to help Beca up. “I’ll deal with that. Go up to the bedroom, strip and don’t start without me.”

A whimper surfaces from Beca’s throat before she can reign it in. She loves when Chloe gives her orders, but tries to keep her eagerness in check, slowly walking up the stairs instead of taking them two by two like she’d dying to.

She hears Chloe greet the delivery person with her usual chirpiness while she sheds her shirt and mesh shorts. As she stands naked in the middle of the master, Beca decides to give Chloe a subtle hint about what she wants Chloe to do to her tonight, fishing into her suitcase for the purple strapless strap-on dildo Stacie got them as a wedding gift and setting it on the bed along with the lube.

She’s already wet thinking about Chloe wearing it and railing her into the mattress with it.

“Is that what we’re doing tonight?” Chloe’s sultry tone sends a thrill rush down Beca’s spine, and she glances over her shoulder to find Chloe standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over her chest. The smirk on her lips indicates she’s definitely on board with Beca’s unspoken suggestion. She pushes off the door frame and struts over, placing her hands on Beca’s waist and capturing Beca’s lips in a kiss that makes her knees wobble.

With her mouth still attached to Chloe’s, she turns and backs up towards the bed, sitting down and shuffling back so she’s laying in the middle. Her fingers untie the knot to Chloe’s floral kimono, the material parting and granting Beca with an amazing view of Chloe’s toned abs.

Chloe’s own hand wanders as they kiss, the tip of her fingers following down Beca’s side and back up, curling around her breast and squeezing. A moan spills into their liplock as Beca arches into the touch, her hips tilting up against Chloe’s.

“Be patient,” Chloe warns across her lips, nuzzling her nose against Beca’s as she backs away. Her mouth latches on Beca’s pulsepoint before Beca can protest, teeth nipping and lips suckling until the skin bruises. She leaves another mark or two on her way down, taking her sweet time, and Beca is positively writhing with want and soaked by the time Chloe come back up.

She parts Beca’s legs with a nudge of her knee, her fingers skimming through her folds. Chloe can’t suppress a gasp upon realizing just how turned on Beca is. She teases Beca with the tip of her pointer finger, swirling it at her entrance and spreading the wetness to her clit. “I don’t think we’ll need that lube after all.”

“Chlo,” Beca’s plea is hot and desperate across Chloe’s lips. She grinds her hips down, chasing more. “Just fuck me, baby.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow at that demand, completely pulling away and sitting up on her heels. Beca feels cold all of the sudden, despite Chloe’s scorching gaze slowly roving over her body like she’s a meal.

“Spread ‘em wider. Touch yourself for me.”

More warmth pools between Beca’s legs at that command and she obeys, opening her legs further as she starts rubbing two finger tips around her clit and entrance.

“Like that?” She murmurs innocently, raking her teeth over her bottom lip just because she knows Chloe can’t resist that move.

“Mhm,” Chloe hums, resting one hand on Beca’s knee and stroking her thumb over her skin. “Inside baby, fuck yourself properly.”

Beca slips one, then two fingers inside, pumping in and out slowly as her gaze remains locked on Chloe’s features.

Chloe traps her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes positively brimming with a mix of lust and pride as she watches Beca’s movements. “Good girl. I love watching you.”

The words make Beca moan; she’s always been a slut for Chloe’s praise during sex.

“Fuck, Chlo,” Beca breathes, eyes slipping shut as she rubs slow circles on her clit, her pleasure steadily building.

“That’s it baby, keep going,” Chloe murmurs as Beca’s lips part, a whimper spilling out. “You’re so fucking sexy. Go faster, rub that clit, Beca.”

Beca forces her eyes open, her fingers speeding up as she holds onto Chloe’s gaze. She’s so close it hurts, and she wonders if Chloe’s going to stop her before she comes.

She doesn’t, watching with a smirk painted on her lips as Beca barrels off the cliffside, her body trembling through her climax.

“Such a good girl,” Chloe repeats, taking Beca’s hand away and raising it to her mouth to suck Beca’s fingers clean. “Turn around, on your hands and knees, babe.”

Holy fuck.

Beca lets out a barely there whimper and shifts into position while Chloe puts on the contraption. She stands at the foot of the bed and rubs the head of the toy through Beca’s dripping folds before inching it inside.

“Fuck,” Beca mutters, her breath catching in her throat as the stretch is almost painful. “I think it’s too big, Chlo.”

Chloe stops, smoothing her hand over Beca’s spine. “Want me to pull out?”

Beca feels her muscles slowly adjust to the length already inside. “No, just… go slow, okay?”

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees, her soft and gentle tone a contrast to her earlier stern commands. She pauses again when the dildo is buried to the hilt, her thumb at Beca’s hip drawing soothing circles over her skin. “Okay?”

“Yeah, just gimme a sec,” Beca breathes, willing herself to relax a bit more. She gives it a go a handful of seconds later by tilting her hips forward and then back, biting back on a moan. “Kay, yeah. Keep going.”

Chloe chuckles, bending down to kiss the top of Beca’s spine. “I knew you could take it.”

Beca rolls her eyes, her retort dying in her throat when Chloe starts to move in short, slow thrusts, the dildo sliding in and out without trouble given Beca’s arousal and the lube Chloe applied to it beforehand.

“Feels good?” Chloe asks after a little while, squeezing Beca’s hip as she keeps up with her steady rhythm.

“Huh-huh,” Beca manages, the angle and thickness of the toy shooting a spark of pleasure throughout her body with each pass. “Would be even better if you fucked me properly.”

Chloe barks a laugh, pinching Beca’s hip. “Brat.”

“You love it,” Beca quips, squeaking out a moan when Chloe drives her hips back, only leaving the tip inside Beca before sliding it back in the whole way. “Shit.”

“Is that what you want?” Chloe asks as she goes through the same motion, barely pausing. “Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow morning?”

The only reply Beca can muster is a short hum as she lowers herself on her elbows, her entire body jolting forward with each thrust. “Chlo. Faster.”

As Chloe is standing at the foot of the bed, it’s easy for her to pick up in speed. She grips Beca’s hips tightly, her breathing turning to pants as her rhythm switches to shorter, faster thrusts.

Mewls and moans of pleasure fill the room (the fact that she knows there are no neighbors within hearing range makes it easier for Beca to let loose on the vocal side of things) mingling with the wet sounds and the headboard hitting the wall in rhythm with Chloe’s thrusts.

Chloe slows down, going back to grinding. She’s in charge, and she clearly doesn’t want Beca to come too fast.

“Fuck, Chlo. You’re killing me.” Beca croaks, her arms feeling like jelly as she pushes onto them so her face isn’t pressed against the mattress anymore. She whines and pushes her ass back, a zap of intense pleasure rushing through her when the bulbous head of the dildo rubs against her g-spot. “Oh my God.”

“You’re so hot,” Chloe murmurs, resuming her thrusting. Her nails dig into Beca’s hip bones as she pounds into Beca. “I love fucking you from behind like the good little slut you are.”

“Chlo,” Beca chokes out, her wife’s name one of the only things she can muster as her brain fogs up. That and, “Don’t stop. Please.”

Her elbows give once more and she grasps tight fistfuls of sheet as she feels the coil winding tighter and tighter with each thrust, ready to snap. Chloe is truly ravaging her and she doesn’t show any intent of stopping until Beca comes, this time.

“Oh God, baby,” Beca pants, unable to drive her hips back anymore as her whole body starts to quake. She just needs-

Chloe must read her mind, her thumb finding her clit and drawing precise circles on it does her in, and she comes with a hoarse scream, her vision blinded for a handful of seconds.

Chloe doesn’t stop. Her thrusts shorten because Beca’s walls are still clenched around the dildo, but she doesn't stop. Chloe's hands at her hips are the only thing holding Beca up as she continues fucking Beca until she comes again less than a minute later, right with Chloe.

“Holy shit,” Beca puffs out a full two minutes later once she’s more or less caught her breath. Chloe plopped down next to her in the meantime, and Beca twists onto her side, her body still twitching with aftershocks and her heart pounding against her ribs. “This might be my new favorite toy.”

Chloe chuckles, reaching out to take it out and set it aside. “Should we send Stacie a thank you note?”

Beca groans, hiding her face in Chloe’s neck. “Was it good for you, too?”

“Mhm, yeah,” Chloe says softly as she wraps her arm around Beca’s back. “It was amazing.”

Beca brushes a kiss to Chloe’s skin, draping her own arm over Chloe’s middle and intertwining their legs. “Do you ever think about… filming ourselves, sometimes?” Blush rushes to meet Beca’s cheeks as soon as the question is out of her mouth.

Chloe snickers. “Pretty much all the time.”

That makes Beca lift her head, not caring if Chloe can see how flustered she is. Chloe knows how she gets when talking about sex outside of the moment, anyway. “Really? You do? How come you never told me that?”

“Mm, yeah.” Chloe shrugs. “I dunno, I was going to bring it up at some point, but I’m glad you did.”

“Let’s do it,” Beca says.

Chloe cocks an eyebrow. “Now?”

“No.” She scrunches up her nose. She can't even feel her legs after those three back-to-back orgasms. “I’m gonna need at least an hour before you fuck me with that thing again. Besides, I’m hungry.”

Chloe laughs heartily. “Okay, then. Let’s go eat, then we can shoot some porn.”

“Jesus.”

#bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #ppfandomdrive

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antivirus-mh-au · 4 years

Text

Antivirus - Chapter 4

First Chapter Previous Chapter Ao3 Link TW: None Note: I am completely exhausted and working on a laggy computer. I will add these links when I’m not a zombie trying to use a zombie laptop. Thank you for your patience.

Click the link. Let the page load, the old laptop whirring as it opened. A YouTube video, like so many others. Opening shot, an abandoned building in the middle of the night, muffled voices talking.

Shrieking, screaming. The camera lowered as the one holding it ducks for cover. Four voices yelling at once. Suddenly, laughter. Relieved laughter.

"Fucking bats!" A man called out. The camera raising, focusing on the dark shapes fluttering out the window.

"We need to be careful," a woman said, voice light-hearted. "Those things carry rabies."

Laughter breaking through the group again, a logo of a camera appearing on the screen.

He paused the video and glanced down at the title. "OUR GREATEST HITS, VOLUME ONE."

He sent a text to his friend.

Phoenix: who are these assholes?

The reply was immediate.

Skully: they're my assholes. College kids I made friends with on Twitter. Really cool. I don't remember being that cool when I was twenty.

He grunted aloud. Lucky him, remembering anything about his twenties. Not everyone was so fortunate.

Skully: They’re part of the MH fandom. They actually live in Alabama and were able to track down some of the locations in the videos.

He rolled his eyes.

Phoenix: Find any bodies?

Skully: Just blood.

He shuddered, pulling his hooded jacket closer to his body.

Phoenix: Cool. Morbid, but cool.

He was such a liar.

Skully: Anyway, not what I was sending them to you about. They just made a new video today and I think you might be interested in it

He grimaced.

Phoenix: This is about your crazy boyfriend, isn’t it?

Skully: He’s not my boyfriend!! I don’t know him!!!

Skully: And you know my partner doesn't share.

Phoenix: But it’s still about him. The prophet guy.

Skully: … Yeah. But you should still watch this! I think you’ll find it interesting

He leaned back against the wall and huffed.

Phoenix: Why?

Skully: … the kids talk about Tim, alright?

Skully: They talk about him a lot.

His fingers hesitated over the keys. He lingered, reading the words again and again. Tim…?

Phoenix: Fine.

Phoenix: Send me the video.

The video, almost thirty minutes long, took its sweet time to load. First thing on screen was the same logo as before, a camera with a generic full face mask behind it. The name of the channel followed, MH Unlocked. He shook his head.

The name faded out, replaced by three people on a couch. Two women, one man. A second man sat on top of an end table on the right side of the couch. The lamp that probably belonged in that spot sat on the floor at his dangling feet.

The woman on the left, a bushy haired brunette with deep tan skin, a high ponytail and golden brown eyes, gave the camera a grin.

"Hey investigators!" She waved. "We're back with another video."

"And this one's a doozy," the woman beside her said, raising her mug, which proudly bore a pride flag. If he had to guess, it was the lesbian one. Her hair was dyed orange, peachy skin flushed by makeup or a light sunburn, it was hard to tell.

"Before we start," the first woman said, "be sure to leave a like and give us your thoughts and theories in the comments! I promise, we read all of them."

"Eventually," said the man on the end table with a grin. He was the palest white guy ever, with curly black hair, glasses, and about a thousand freckles on his face. The man next to him gave him a shove, and the first man burst into laughter.

The other man, with skin several shades darker than the brunette and a suit far too good looking for this kind of environment, rolled his eyes. He waved a hand, with a silver ring on his index finger, at the camera.

"You already know us," he said. "I'm Mix."

"I'm Holly!" The brunette on the other end said.

"I'm Wren," the orange haired woman said.

"And I'm Steve!" The freckled man grinned wide, his green eyes practically glowing with excitement. "We've got a big story for you guys today."

"Oh, very big," Wren said, before taking a drink from her mug.

"Big like the worst headache you've ever had," Mix said with a smiling roll of his eyes. Wren smacked him on the shoulder without looking away from her drink.

"So." Holly reached up from the floor and pulled up a laptop. The brand logo was covered up with a pineapple sticker. Her eyes scanned the screen as she fiddled with the touchpad, Wren leaning over to see what she was doing.

"Last night," Holly said. "Something weird happened over on the Neophyte_Calling YouTube channel."

"Weirder than normal," Wren said.

"Yeah," Holly said. She glanced over towards Steve, who swiped at the screen of his phone. He looked up.

"We'd show the footage but people don’t seem to like when we do that," Steve said. "Something something spreading the sickness." He shrugged with a smile. "But we've all watched it and we can give you a play by play of what happened."

"It might not seem that dramatic," Wren said, "but the implications are pretty intense."

"I'll say," Mix said.

"Last night, at around ten pm," Holly started, "in the middle of his usual stream, the Neophyte went quiet. The way he does when whatever he's supposedly channeling is trying to talk through him. After about thirty seconds of silence, he started bleeding onto the table from his head, which remember, is mostly off screen. He said, "he's coming," and fell over as the screen glitched out. For another hour there was complete silence before the stream randomly ended."

"Weird shit," Steve said.

Holly nodded. "Very weird shit - but in character for him."

"Now, for those of you that don't know who the Neophyte is," Mix said, "he's the guy you see people calling 'the Prophet' in this fandom. Talks like a drug addict on a high, but many people believe there are secret messages in his words that can be decoded. They say those messages predict the future."

"Not everyone believes this," Holly said.

"I don't," Steve said, hunched over and watching his friends. "But there's definitely something funny-weird about the guy. Very… uncanny valley."

"Sometimes, unprompted, he'll stop talking and do this creepy voice." Holly cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, she lowered her voice, taking on an odd pitch to her words. "Grains of sand in the hourglass of time. Your existence is irrelevant." She shuddered, and let her voice go back to normal. "Something like that."

"That's an awful impression but it gets the job done," Mix said.

"You try doing one better," Holly said.

"The one thing all of these coherent messages have in common," Wren said, "is that they're all addressed to the same person. Someone called Tim."

Steve nodded. "And you can guess who most people think that 'Tim' is."

"It's been ten years since Marble Hornets ended," Mix said. "But it would make sense if it were Tim Wright the Neophyte was talking to. He was the only survivor, after all."

"But that would imply that Tim is watching the Neophyte streams," Wren said.

"And if he's watching the streams, he could be aware of us, too," Holly said.

The four went quiet. Mix looked at the floor. Steve traded a look of discomfort with Holly. Wren took a sip of her mug. She pulled it away from her lips with a sigh.

"If he does know about us," Wren said, "why not come forward and tell his side of the story? He could change the whole game by revealing himself."

"Probably because he's a fucking murderer," Steve said. Mix glared at him, but Steve only shrugged. "You know I'm right!"

"He did kill two people," Holly said, looking at her laptop. "Just because Kralie killed Jay doesn't make what Tim did right."

"But what other choice did he have?" Mix said. "Alex wouldn't have stopped trying to kill Tim. One of them needed to die."

"That doesn't matter to the legal system," Holly said.

"We're getting off topic," Wren said, raising a hand. "It doesn't matter if the Neophyte was talking about Tim from Marble Hornets or not. What matters is that someone is going somewhere and that's apparently good news for the Neophyte or whatever he's channeling."

"You can say the Operator, it's okay," Steve said.

Holly glared at him from over Wren's head.

"It does matter, though, if he's talking about Tim in particular," Mix said. "What if Tim is heading back to Alabama? Maybe he left after the end of the series."

"It's possible," Holly said, "but that's pure speculation. We don't know that."

"Isn't speculation all we do?" Steve said, swinging his legs gently. "Come on, let's give the audience something to chew on. What do you guys think the Neophyte was talking about? The crazier the theory, the better."

Mix frowned. "Well…"

With a shake of his head, the viewer closed the tab. He'd seen enough. Enough to make his eyes burn and hands shake. He took a deep breath, and shuddered, pulling his jacket around himself. It was a warm day beyond the safe confines of this abandoned house, but that didn't stop the chills shooting through him.

Was he afraid? Or was he angry?

With a growl he thrust the laptop away from him and reached for his sketchbook. The pen he'd been using before still rested inside. Forcing his thoughts away from the video, he focused everything in his mind onto his art.

He wasn't a great artist, but his memory was good, and with nothing else to do most days, his skill was getting better. With proper art tools, he could've even gotten great at it. But there was no need for greatness right now. Art was supposed to be healing, and that more than anything was what he needed.

In his mind he captured the image, something he'd seen so many times before. Grinding his teeth, he let the image flow onto the page once more. His favorite thing to draw, the one thing that really made him smile.

Losing track of time was part of the appeal. With the light from his laptop, he could see the whole page, or at least enough of it to work. The ink bled into the paper, the lines assembling into a rough image that soon became a face. He could see it so well in his mind's eye. As if the man he pictured was right in front of him. But he wasn't. And if the man knew what was good for him, he'd stay that way.

The sound of a new message on Discord got his attention. He glanced at the time instead. An hour, flown by, his mind lost in an ink-based daydream. Exhaling hard, he looked back at the art on the page. It wasn't finished. It would probably never be finished. But as it was… it was perfect.

Tim Wright made a very good model, unaware of that as he was.

Running his hand over the page, feeling the indents where his pen dug deep into the paper, he shook his head, and smiled.

"Better not be coming back, Tim," the man, the Maniac, said. "If you do… I'll have to kill you.”

#marble hornets #mh antivirus au #mh fanfiction #marble hornets fanfiction #marble hornets au

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singingcookie · 4 years

Text

Drops of Jupiter Ch. 24 WIP

Hey there!! I’m here with the beginning segment of the next chapter of Drops of Jupiter! I know it’s been a long time coming now and I hope everyone’s eager to get back into it, considering how exciting this last arc got. Or well it was exciting for me at least lol

This is the first thousand or so words of this coming chapter (I’m actually a good bit further that this) but I thought I ought to share while I’m still working! Please look forward to it and enjoy this snippet!!

It’s the first time in a while that Izuku’s woken up with a start in a cold sweat—and even longer since it wasn’t due to One for All. He doesn’t bother to get up immediately, in spite of the way the blankets feel, as though they’re stuck to his mildly damp skin; and instead he flings his arm up and onto the headboard behind him. His fingers tap blindly on the surface until they manage to secure around his phone.

He picks it up while lowering his arm to catch a glimpse of the time. Half past eight. Only ten minutes before first period starts, so the rest of the class is probably gone already. Normally he would’ve been up by now too, but he can hear Aizawa’s drawl from the night before echoing in his head.

Izuku grabs a fistful of his blankets, tossing them off as he turns to get out of bed. His bare feet settle on the floor, but he doesn’t immediately stand up. He just lingers. There’s no real reason. No thought or feeling to it.

He just feels...nothing. The moment the weight of that word hits him, that face flashes across his mind’s eye—scarred with its red eyes narrowed at him.

Izuku sets his phone down beside him in order to run his hands up his face, into the front of his hair, and then back down to press over his mouth. The sensation of skin under his palms has helped, however slightly, but he still doesn’t stand.

There’s still this...numbness hanging over him. He knows he ran his hands up and down but it was like his face didn’t feel it. Smiling or even frowning feels like a far away possibility, it’s all he can do to take some shallow breaths in and out. He needs to wake up the nerves there. Maybe give them a jumpstart.

The idea is what finally gets him on his feet and moving, and he finds his way to his room’s half-bath. Izuku turns on the faucet, not bothering to wait for the water to warm up before he hunches down, holding his hands under the running tap to splash some on his face. When he does, his pores scream in agony from the feel of the cold droplets. But at least he can feel something. Intentionally do something.

The sound of the faucet continuously running is like an anchor to the present, and soothes him even without throwing more water on his face.

When he eventually raises his chin to look back in the mirror, the person that stares back at him feels unfamiliar. Wrong, somehow. Maybe it’s how his freckles stand out more against the pallor of his skin. Maybe it’s that the rings that have found a place under his eyes across the years appear darker now. He lifts one of his hands, his middle touching down near his puffy eyelids—had he been crying in the night or was it from fatigue...?

Why does he look at this stranger in the mirror and see her? Her face was just as pale; the bags beneath her eyes were about as stark; but unlike him, who can’t form an expression, he remembers how she grinned oh so wildly throughout their interactions.

“Right, isn’t my smile pretty, Izuku-kun?”

He splashes more water on his face. Like that can cast away the memories, the voice, that disturbing expression of pure want— Izuku reaches out, pointedly avoiding meeting the gaze of that enigma of a reflection, and turns the faucet until it screeches to a halt. He’s left himself hovering over the sink, and there’s soft plunks as droplets fall from his face into the basin below. “It’s over,” he reminds himself. “It’s already over...”

Izuku grabs the nearby wash cloth to dry off what liquid still clings to the skin of his face with a sigh. There’s other things he needs to focus on today. And hopefully, gods willing, they can distract him from the idea that it’s definitely not over until Toga uses up his blood.

The main distraction relates to his classmate who’s also contained to the dorms because he has a feeling she’s not actually planning to rest at all. He wasn’t entirely oblivious to Uraraka’s fury with being regulated to bed rest. Izuku didn’t need for Aizawa to pull him aside after they had arrived at the dorm, to ask him to keep a close eye on her for the day, because he knows what his best friend looks like when she’s itching for a fight.

And he knows how hard it is to keep yourself from doing something incredibly stupid in that situation.

So he’ll head her off before she can try to do anything like that. He wanders back to his bed and picks up his phone, shooting her a message to wonder if she’s still feeling nauseous from the night before.

By the time he’s finished getting dressed, there’s a response already waiting for him. Better. But my back still feels kinda off so probably just gonna stay in bed all day.

Yeah, right! More like claim that so she has an excuse to not be disturbed (and thus caught), but he’s not letting her get away that easily. Oh really? Cause if you were feeling better, I was gonna make us some pancakes or something. He sends the message off before typing up another. Since it’s basically an extended weekend, we can treat ourselves, right?

The response is instantaneous: (๑❛ ᴗ ❛๑) I guess I could suffer through pancakes first. I’ll see you downstairs in ten!

Wow, that kaomoji looks just like her—wait, not important. But okay, that means she hasn’t done anything crazy. Yet, at least. Because if she had, she would be refusing the offer. So now he’ll just need to make sure things stay that way.

#IzuOcha #Midoriya Izuku #Uraraka Ochako #bnha fanfics #bnha #Drops of Jupiter #the cookie sings #OTP:You're My Hero #yes hello trauma exists and this is only the following day so they're NOT over it #hopefully I should be finished with this chapter relatively soon!

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razorblade180 · 5 years

Text

Sunshower 6

The day after a party, everyone’s worse nightmare. Even with more to come indefinitely, faunus weren’t immune to the effects of partying too hard. Morning had finally kissed Menagerie and those with jobs were the first to witness or feel the shock of Blake’s Homecoming. Streets and houses were littered with festivities along with plenty of red solo cups. Officer’s were up first to deal with any passed out people that were anywhere but their home. All in all, the first night was a hit; people’s spirits seemed to be through the roof. The wave of pleasure was sure to carry over to tonight.

It didn’t take long for the outside world to start rousing people from sleep; including Ilia. Slowly her eyes open to the dim sunlight hitting them; doing no good for her massive hangover. Things are fuzzy. Not to mention.....aching? Common for downing five too many but this felt different. Since when does drinking hurt your legs? Her right hand rubbed the bridge of her nose as she tried to adjust to being being sober again.

Ilia:(Ugh, where am I? Did I......fall asleep? Am I still asleep? No, too much pain to be a dream. Even my own thoughts sound way too loud...) *rubs her temples*

Ilia:(Okay, if I can survive the white fang then I push through this hangover and open my eyes to the very, very bright lights. Easy as one.....two.....thre-

‘Zzzzzzzz’

Ilia:Was that.....snoring?

Her eyes opened one at a time to lessen the pain. It took a few seconds to see clearly but eventually she did; still, Ilia needed a minute to process what she saw. The interior design told her she was in Blake’s house. The room wasn’t really messy which told her no one had come in during the party. The only visible mess were clothes.....? Her clothes at that. Both hands shot up to her head to feel that her hair was down as well. Finally a gasp was let out as her mind was finally catching up.

Ilia:(I’m in Blake’s house still!!! Not just that, but naked two!? What the actual hell happened last night!!? Party, drank, drank some more, also cried I think? Then I got fresh air with-)

‘Zzzzzzzz’

Ilia:......

Everything in her entire body told her to not look to her left. Pieces of memories she kept recalling demanded to know if they were being remembered right however. Something Ilia knew she most likely was since it would be just her luck. Time felt like it stopped as she finally turned to see the source of the snoring. Sure enough, Sun laid peacefully next to her with his head facing away from her. His short was off and she could spot it near the foot of the bed; along with the rest of his clothes. Brown skin turned white from the shock as freckles went straight to pink from embarrassment. Sun Wukong was currently naked and sleeping next to her who is also naked but now completely awake. Even the hangover took a backseat to this dump of information.

Ilia:.........

Ilia:(Oh fuck.......)

The boy was motionless; almost unnerving motionless. A dark thought started to grow in her head so gently she pulled the cover about an inch down and listened to his heart. Ilia’s nerves weren’t calmed to discover that he sounded and looked find. Now she could focus on major crisis. Leaving. She slid herself out from the side of covers and nearly dropped to the wooden floor. Blaming only the hangover would be a lie for the state of her poor motor skills yet thinking of other reasons why moving was a chore lead to topics she didn’t want to address at the moment. One problem at a time. Right now she needed to be presentable. It took some time but she managed dress herself for the most part. The ponytail was neglected as well as the jacket she wore.

Full stealth mode was happening right now. Each foot gently went in front of the other as she watched him to make sure he was still asleep. There was something unusual about the way he slept that Ilia couldn’t figure out. Oh well. She’d think about it later. Right now she is just relieved to have reached the door knob. At least she was until it started twisting from the other side. Someone was coming in...

Ilia:(No no no no no no no!!!!!!!! Crap what do I-)

*door opens*

Kali:*whispering* Pssst Sun? It’s morn.....ing? Ilia?

Ilia:.......I can explain! Things got crazy and we weren’t thinking! I was dr-

Kali:*covers Ilia’s mouth* Relax, you look like you’re about to faint. I didn’t even know you were at the party. Guess I know why *looks at bed*

Ilia:Please don’t mention this to anyone.

Kali:I wouldn’t even dream of it sweetie. I can’t tell you how crazy parties got back in me and Ghira’s day. My lips are sealed. *steps aside*

Ilia wouldn’t call herself a religious person, but Kali had to be a gift from above. She couldn’t help but hug the older woman as she walked out the room.

Kali:Oh, one more thing.

Ilia:What?

Kali:Blake and Yang are passed out on the couch and Ghira is making coffee in the kitchen so......might wanna use the balcony.

Ilia:I’m getting real sick of that balcony. Thank you.

She made a hard right as soon as she entered the hallway towards the balcony. Ilia was starting to miss simply walking through a doorway. It was time to put her skills to the test. Carefully she hoisted herself up on the railing and looked at the closet tree, then the ground.

Ilia:Should be easy enough.

Her foot slips right as she jumps around she hits the ground below. The only pain she feels is the bruised ego and what can only be described as her brain bouncing around. The fatigue of it all made the ground feel oddly comfortable. She took a moment to stare up at the sky; the shade from the balcony blocking the cruel sun. Soon she’d have to move.

Kali:*looks down* Are you okay?

Ilia:Honestly, not my worst screw up in recent months.

Kali:Fair enough. You forgot your scroll up here by the way.

Ilia:Probably for the best considering what just happened. Kali can you do me favor? I need you to make a call.

xxx

Neptune:.......*sips coffee*

Neptune:Can you walk.

Ilia:Yeah

Neptune:Can you walk well?

Ilia:No......got a feeling I twisted my ankle a little. Among other stuff.

Neptune:And you don’t ask Kali for first aid because.....?

Ilia:I am not going back in that house right now. Just help me up please? My aura will fix it soon enough.*raises arm* Mind being my crutch?

Neptune:I could just carry you on my back?

Ilia:Neptune I need just a little dignity right now so if you could just get under my arm and then stand up please.

Neptune:But your so short. I’d have to be hunched over and-

Ilia:You dined and dash yesterday! Can you please just-

Neptune:Fine! *supports her* happy?

Ilia:A little. Can we go to your motel room? My home is way too far of a walk.

Neptune:Fine by mean. I’d get lost anyways. *starts walking*

Ilia:Thank you...

Neptune:Yep. So.....any reason why you look vanilla swirl with pink sprinkles?

Ilia:It’s been an overwhelming forty minutes since I woke up.

Neptune:Does it have something to do with sleeping with my best friend?

Ilia:*eyes widened* What are you talk- why would I....sigh

Neptune:Not even denying it. Don’t worry about responding to it right now. Just enjoy the fresh air and walk.

Ilia:(easier said then done.)

The duo hobbled in silence for awhile. It would look suspicious if there wasn’t plenty of other people still getting their barrings. Neptune kept his eyes forward to look out for anything. Ilia was busy zoning out. The initial shock of everything had finally warn off and her skin went back to its natural color; except for her freckles. The darker spots were still pink and only getting pinker as she hopelessly tried to think of anything but last night. Blood rushed to her face out of embarrassment.

Neptune:Heads up Ilia.

Ilia:Hmmm? *looks up* Oh......

A menagerie officer stands before them with their hands on their hips; a fox tail wraps around their slim frame as they stare down the two.

Neptune:Who’s your foxy friend Ilia?

Cop:That’s racist....

Neptune:Crap! I’m sorry!!! You know I kinda thought it was stupid to say out loud but-

Ilia:They’re joking around. Neptune this is Judy. Judy this is Neptune, he’s a bit dumb but I’ve been told he’s pretty valid as a person.

Judy:Haha, he must be if Ghira hasn’t thrown in the ocean yet.

Neptune:He....he does that?

Judy:Only to pests. For the record, I’d play it say and refrain from animal puns or jokes. Any other faunus might’ve gotten a bit rowdy.

Neptune:Noted. So....any reason someone as beautiful as yourself came strolling this way?

Judy:Just helping where I could when suddenly I see Miss. Bomb Defuser strolling by. You haven’t checked in with me in a couple of days. I don’t have to remind you that multiple cops and gaurds are still twitchy about your circumstances do I?

Neptune:Wait, is Judy-

Ilia:Yes Neptune, Judy is my parole officer.

Judy:Come now, you aren’t on parole. It just makes a lot of people feel better if you can be accounted for regularly by the authorities and sometimes help around the place to rebuild your self ima-

Ilia:Judy.......it’s parole.

Judy:........*nods* Yeah I guess it is, sorry.

Neptune:Well if that’s the case I can vouch for her and say for the pass few days she’s done nothing but help organize the party and decided to indulge in the festivities last night. You can even find a copy of all the decorations she’s done at the Belladonna estate signed off by Ghira himself.

Ilia:!!!!?

Judy:Woah, well that makes things easier. Thank you Neptune. I guess you really are valid.

Ilia:You’re telling me.

Judy:Anyways, I’m gonna head out but actually go check in next time so we don’t have to think about sending a search party. *walking away*

Ilia:I’ll think about it.

Judy:Ilia.....

Ilia:Goodbye Judy! Start walking Neptune before we here a long winded speech about the wall.

Neptune:*walks* Judy seems nice.

Ilia:Surprised you barely flirted through that conversation. I was waiting for you to make a mistake like most people do around Judy.

Neptune:Mistake? What mistake?

Ilia:If you haven’t figured it out yet then who am I to tell?

Neptune:*smiles*

Ilia:What?

Neptune:You’ve calmed down from the looks of it.

Ilia:Oh, I guess I have.

Neptune:Good, because we’re here.

Motels were something menagerie was getting used to since Haven. Plenty of faunus has stopped by to figure out if they also wanted to move in and even important figures across Remnant wanted to discuss human and faunus relations as a new organization formed. So a motel half the size of Blake’s home was built a little ways west of the main part of the island. Here people could easily access the beach or look inward to all the people and get a glimpse of what a regular day here looks like.

Neptune took pride and being the first human to have an indefinite stay at the beautiful place; even Ilia hasn’t been around it much. He lead her to his room there was a back porch that faced the sea with a hammock. The room itself was wood furnished with a decent sized bed in the middle and two night standing on each side. The golden brown look of it all gave off a vibe of warm flames and deep heritage. Neptune guided her to the hammock then went back inside to grab some pills and water bottles before coming back out. He didn’t have to say anything before she grabbed both of them and open the lid.

Neptune:I’m guessing your hangover headache was really bad.

Ilia:You guessed correctly. Thank you by the way, for all this. Especially with Judy.

Neptune:Someone had to keep track of supplies since you and Sun made a competition.

Ilia:Makes sense. By the way.....Judy is-

Neptune:I figured it out on the way here.

Ilia:Okay, I was gonna feel a bit bad if I didn’t say something.

Neptune:Trust me, I’ve developed a sense for these things after meeting you. Still, they are pretty cool. Probably knows how to party.

Ilia:Don’t tell your date from last night that, or is she already out of the picture? This room is surprisingly clean for a playboy after a party. House keeping works fast.

Neptune:House keeping only had to dust. Nothing happened in this room last night. I took that girl home after the fireworks because boy was she out of it. I tried calling Sun to let him know where I was but he never answered. That’s when a gut feeling told me to look for high points and I saw you two on the roof.

Ilia:Oh......

Neptune:Didn’t think much of it. Even after I saw him pick you up and lead you inside. There was a little chatter about a spunky drunk girl that told of some creep inside with the help of a monkey faunus so I assumed that you were thoroughly wasted; which makes sense after what you did at the restaurant. Sun was with you and both of you were pretty bummed out the whole night so I thought “they’ll probably go ditch the thing and I’ll see him later.” But then I didn’t......

Ilia:Uuuuuuummmmmmm.....

Neptune:Sun is a big boy and knows the place so I didn’t think much of it. I’d catch up with him tomorrow morning. Tomorrow becomes today and as I reach for my scroll expecting apology messages from him, it’s Kali telling me to come pick you up from the house as quickly and discreetly as possible. Now I hate to make assumptions, but I’ve done my fair share of unsuccessful balcony exits. What they all have in common is what I did the night before to prompt such a hasty exit.

Ilia:What are you? Some kind of jr detective?

Neptune:When it comes to crimes of the heart I find all the clues.

Ilia:It’s not a crime of the heart it’s just.....ugh. *lays down* Gods I feel stupid. What possessed me to think sleeping with Sun was a good idea to push away pain.

Neptune:I know your teenage years aren’t exactly normal but that’s about as normal as teenage thought processes go. He was depressed, you were depressed, tons of alcohol, and common ground found at a late night party. I’m not saying I expected this because I didn’t, but makes sense.

Ilia:You don’t understand Neptune! What happened shouldn’t have happened, but it did and now I just feel....weird. I can’t remember all of last night right now but I remember a decent amount. Things I wish I didn’t.

Neptune:Like?

Ilia:I said things. Personal things I don’t share freely. I was hurt but things felt, okay? Yet so wrong at the same time.

Neptune:*frowns* Do you feel used?

Ilia:No, heavens no. If anything I sort of feel like I used him a little. Which was not my intention.

Neptune:What was your intention?

Ilia:I DON’T KNOW!!!!!! I just remember feeling..... something. Whatever the hell it was....

.........

Neptune:Do you....regret it?

Ilia:What?

Neptune:Do you regret last night?

Ilia:I’m, not exactly sure.

Neptune:Well maybe start there and everything else might fall into place? I’m not saying this isn’t a big deal or anything but trust me when I say this does not have to be some staggering revelation. Beer has a way of blurring that line.

Ilia:Sigh, I’m not prepared to talk to Sun about this.

Neptune:Lucky for you, he normally blacks-out when he gets too drunk.

Ilia:Seriously?

Neptune:Yeah he doesn’t like drinking. I think he only did it because of how upset he was.

Ilia:Oh......*turns blue*

Neptune:Uh oh, what’s wrong?

Ilia:Even if he doesn’t remember, it’s wrong to keep that from him right?

Neptune:Tricky question. Personally, I’d tell him if you feel weird about it. Sort out your feelings on the situation and if it meant nothing to you and was just something that happened then by all means, I’ll keep the secret.

Ilia:But.....?

Neptune:Blake and Sun are only friends with compassionate people, so I know last night meant something to you in one shape or form. I’ll be here figure it out if you want and anything else you might need. That way you can tell him with a clear head.

The more Neptune spoke, the more Ilia had to keep rethinking her description of him. Sun wasn’t just hyping him up whenever he told her that Neptune has more heart than she realized. His words, his smile, everything he did today made that statement....valid.

Ilia:I’m sorry Neptune.

Neptune:For what?

Ilia:Downplaying you constantly. You’re actually really sweet. So I’m sorry.

Neptune:Oh *red* well don’t go spreading that around alright. Some of these girls are really buying the whole cool yet distant act I’m putting on.

Ilia:*snickers* Alright, I guess I can do that. Hey is it alright if I can just lay here for a bit and just relax?

Neptune:Sure, it’ll help get my lien’s worth out of this place. *going inside*

Ilia:How much is this room?

Neptune:Too much Ilia! It’s too much! At least the water is free, I hope.

Ilia:(Funny, forgot to call himself compassionate as well. Maybe that’s why Sun likes him?)

Neptune:*scrolling* Hmm?

*one new message*

Sun: “Hey man, sorry about last night.”

Neptune: “Don’t sweat it dude.”

Sun: “So uh....can I come over? I gotta talk to you.”

Neptune:........

Neptune: “About?”

Sun: “About something that happened last night.”

Neptune:*turns around*

Ilia:*sleeping peacefully*

Neptune: “How about we meet somewhere for breakfast instead? Just to get out and about?”

Sun: “Sounds like a plan. Thanks bro”

Neptune:(Well I guess this is happening now.)

xxx

Sun:*holding Ilia’s scrunchy*......... oh boy.

Part 5

#rwby sunshower #rwby #neptune vasilias #sun wukong #kali belladonna #sun x ilia #rwby sunspots #bmblb

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queenofeden · 4 years

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my contributions to @lovelikeyoursfest for the first prompt, “the start of something new”. these are technically both excerpts from longer in-progress fics featuring my apprentice, laurel, but they happened to fit the theme so well i thought at least part of them deserved to see the light of day. consider this a teaser for my future works if u find urself interested~

chronologically, nadia comes first, julian can be found under the cut

Nadia & Laurel

January, 5 years ago

The whole of Vesuvia thrums with the energy of the masquerade, like one large body set to motion at last after a long winter. The lights, the reeling crowds, they pulse and pump as they make their way along the arterial canals, upwards, always upwards, to the highest reach of the city -- to the beating heart of it all -- the palace. Laurel catches Asra’s hand in her own, dragging him along, or he her, or perhaps they simply get swept away together by the throng, laughter bubbling on her lips for what feels like the first time in months.

Try as one might, it is easy to get separated once the party truly takes hold of the palace. The hoi polloi of Vesuvia clamor towards the offered food and drink, while the elite swan about and entertain themselves with chatter and gossip. It is not with intent that she loses track of Asra somewhere past the room full of enchanted, talking statuary. One moment he is there, and the next he is not, the space he once occupied at her side now taken up by three bustling women in matching silver gowns and masks done up like swans, all vying for entry into the room. It matters little to Laurel. Asra will find her eventually, when he cares to be found himself. He always does, somehow, whether she cares for him to or not.

There is little intent to where she wanders, keen to let herself be drawn wherever the whims of the party may take her. She knows there is something surrounding her -- a pall of grief, though it seems too melodramatic a sentiment. It is a palpable, invisible thing about her nonetheless. People walk around her, unsure of why, rowdy drunkards don't dare to jostle or bump her. Her own personal never-mind-me spell, cast without intent simply by virtue of existing. Their disinterest rankles, but she shoves the ill-feeling down deep. It's not them she's here for, anyway. A tall glass of fizzing wine makes its way into her hand, plucked deftly from a passing servant’s platter, and she carries it along in her gloved hand, sipping occasionally, leaving a smear of bright red along the rim of the glass from her painted lips.

The heavy press of the party lessens as she finds herself on the veranda, the roar in her ears fading, carried away on the cool evening breeze. It chills her overheated skin, bare beneath only a few thin layers of chiffon and satin, and she relishes the prickle of gooseflesh it leaves in its wake like a kiss. She takes her glass and drains the last of the golden wine too quickly, and trades it for another -- something pink and dangerously sugared this time. This too she finishes in a few deep gulps, setting the empty glass back onto the bemused servant's tray and taking another before they have time to even move away. Alone, save for the alcohol that burns in her too empty stomach, she wanders the less crowded gardens, full of others who have little interest in being found. She hums along to a familiar tune as she passes through a faint cloud of sound, drifting over the tops of the immaculately trimmed hedge walls.

She feels sweet with wine and song, the lightest she has felt all year. Here, the sounds and smells, the anonymous, whirling multitude of bodies-- they keep out what Laurel would rather forget. Here there is no responsibility, no pitying glances from familiar patrons, none of Asra's well-intentioned saccharine condolences. No one knows her here, not behind the gilt painted mask. She is hardly herself, if she wants not to be, and oh how desperately she craves the chance to not be herself, if only for just a little while. That is the true magic of the Count’s masquerade, something far more powerful than what she could throw together in a mortar at home and call such. She is only the swell of the music. It lifts her slippered feet, carrying her in some semblance of dance as she walks the cobbled path, eyes closed in what would feel almost like joy, if she could remember the feeling.

There is no one on the path with her, no one to see her dizzy, stumbling attempt at a coranto, so when her body meets something else -- someone else, the slide of a silk gown against her bare arms -- her eyes snap open, and she stumbles backward with an embarrassed curse.

"Shit! Sorry, so sorry."

Laurel lifts her gaze, expecting to see the heated glare of whomever she'd been unlucky enough to plow into. What she does not expect is the countess -- The Countess -- blinking back at her with equal amounts of surprise.

With a choked sort of squeak, Laurel drops immediately into her best, lowest curtsy, knees creaking and head bowed so low her mask threatens to slip straight off her nose.

"O-oh, My Lady Countess, forgive me! Please forgive me!"

Her heart hammers in her chest. The Countess! Of all people to drunkenly stumble into! The count would likely have her head for daring lay a hand, however accidental, on his beloved wife. Or perhaps the countess herself would ask him to cut off her wicked, clumsy feet instead as a mercy.

Less likely was the countess's voice -- rich and deep and rolling over her like sweet molasses -- saying softly, "It’s quite alright. Please stand."

Laurel blinks, straightening her spine in fractions, giving ample time should the countess deign to change her mind and command her to sprawl, prostrate in the dirt, at her feet instead. She doesn't. Eventually, Laurel is able to lift her chin and look the -- only slightly -- taller woman in the eye for the first time.

She had known the countess was beautiful, much in the way that people knew the sky was blue, the grass grew green, and the south was a frigid waste, an immutable fact. People spoke often of her features in the market, lauding the beauty of her violet hair, her striking, crimson eyes, her high, royal brow. More so, she knew it to be true by the simple truth that vain Count Lucio would never settle for less. What few memories she has -- a parade, swirling streamers in the air; the profile of a distant woman, nestled like an idol on a float of white roses and purple hyacinth -- are clouded by time and distance. She had pieced her together that first year, vague impressions and gossip and distant glances in the town square where she deigned to appear. Vesuvia's very own princess had crossed her mind very little after that.

This close, close enough to smell her sweet jasmine of her perfume, to count the faint few freckles on her bare shoulders, Countess Nadia is more lovely than Laurel could have ever imagined.

Laurel's gaping leaves her uncharacteristically silent, but the countess seems to recover first. Likely she's used to filling stunned silence.

"How is that you found me here?" she asks, a faint tinge of pink across her nose, though whether it is from embarrassment or anger Laurel cannot gauge.

Laurel glances around, taking in the tall topiaries that surround them. “I-- where is here, exactly?”

Julian & Laurel

Late September, 5 years ago

The first time she arrives at his clinic, Julian doesn’t yet know that he should turn the woman he would come to know as Laurel Lobban away. She comes to his clinic like most regular patients, in a hurried flurry of skirts, eyes bright — not red, thankfully, the sclera a clear, healthy white with irises of sky blue — sharp with an edge of desperation. Perhaps a family member was sick, a spouse, or sister. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had dragged him from his clinic in the misty, early hours of pre-dawn with their pleas.

He lets the woman in — his first mistake — and leads her to the small table in the corner where he offers her a perfunctory cup of poorly brewed coffee or tea, though she doesn’t look to be in any particular need of it. There is a tension to her body, ratcheted tight as a halyard line. If plucked she might sing, high and sweet like the E string of his vielle, but that could also be his third cup of coffee before sunrise talking. From over her nose and mouth, she pulls down her paisley patterned scarf to reveal full but drawn lips, chewed raw and near bleeding. She stretches and bunches the fabric in her hands, twisting it into knots.

“You’re the doctor, then, yes?” she asks, squinting up at him. “Doctor Devorak? The one everyone talks about?”

A grin, black and bitter as the lingering taste of coffee in his throat, spreads his lips thin at that. “Well, now, that depends. What do the people say?”

The woman watches him, eyes canny as a hawk, flitting between his features, sizing him up. “They say you help people, that you don’t overcharge like the hacks in the heart district do.” She sniffs with derision then, nose crinkling up, though whether at the thought of his colleagues uptown or the smell of something in the room, he cannot tell. Astringent probably, he had just cleaned his tools for the day. Often he forgets how strong the smell can be to those far less nose blind than he. She coughs delicately, like she’s trying to suppress a gag. “They say you’re a good man.”

Ah, well, hm. Julian can’t say he’s heard that one before. ‘Foul, beaked harbinger of misery’ yes, ‘heartless bastard’ sure, ‘utter fool’ sometimes, but good man? Compliments were not something many of his patients or their families had on their minds once he was around. Her words settle like a heavy stone in his near empty stomach. This close, with her looking at him just so, her eyes are less so the color of summer. Darker, near navy, paling into a grey to match his own with a flash of almost-barely-there yellow at the center, like a brewing sky at sea -- one set to storm and tear him to pieces any moment, the look of them setting his sailor’s intuition on edge. He ignores them, words and eyes both.

“And are you in need of my help then?” he asks, stepping away to rifle through his curio cabinet, stuffed to bursting with jars of tinctures and salves. “You don’t look beplagued, perhaps some other malady? Allergies? A fungus?”

A loud, nearly surprised, scoff. “I don’t have a fungus,” she asserts with umbrage.

He feels his cheeks heat, grateful that his head is buried in the cabinet and not on view of her no doubt scrutinizing gaze. “Of course not, of course not, so sorry. I didn’t intend any offense miss-- ah, I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Laurel, Laurel Lobban.”

She’s right behind him again. He jumps, knocking the shelves with a wayward elbow as he turns. Her hand is held out to shake, and he takes it with mild surprise. Her grip is firm, no nonsense, but she squeezes a little too hard just before she lets go in a way that lets him know how intentional, how controlled those reads he took of her were. He would see nothing of her that she didn’t want him to, that much he could tell.

“Laurel Lobban,” he repeats, rolling the matching consonants on his tongue. “Laurel, laurus nobilis, lauraceae, like the plant,” he rambles, finishing rather dumbly. She snorts.

“Yes... like the plant. Are you all right, doctor?”

Was he all right? Maybe that third coffee had been a bad idea. “Fine, fine. Though I would be more fine if I knew what I could help you with, Miss Lobban. Hard to diagnose if I don’t know what ails you.”

“I don’t — ” she sighs, frustration warring across her features. “I’m not sick. I’m not here for some tincture. I — I want to work with you.”

He laughs. It was the wrong thing to do, by the telling darkening of her expression, the subtle shift in her jaw as she clearly clenches her teeth. He can’t help it though. It trails off, nervously, his stance shifting from one leg to the other. Whatever you do next, proceed with caution, Ilya.

“Work? Work here?” Nailed it.

“Do you work elsewhere?”

“I — no. This is it,” he replies, gesturing weakly at the single, cramped room, with it’s tiny storage closet and its rickety loft where he keeps his private office which is little more than a second closet. Why would anyone want to work here? With him?

“Then yes, here. With you.”

That he didn’t like.

“And do you ah — do you have any medical expertise then?”

She frowns. There’s a knot of lines between her brows that would be cute, almost endearing, in any other situation than this. Her cheeks flush pink. “Well, no. I mean I’ve read a few books, but… I had hoped you would take me on as an apprentice.”

His mouth falls open, spluttering. He weaves around her so that he’s no longer pinned, like a bug to a board, between her expectant gaze and the cabinet. “Unfortunately Miss Lobban, I’m not equipped to take on apprentices at this time. You see, I’m — well, the fact of the matter is — ”

Stop it. Stop talking.

“There are plenty of other doctors who would take you on, I’m certain.” Who? It doesn’t matter. Doctors who aren’t me. Why would anyone want to learn from a failure who couldn’t even cure his patients, anyway? What could he possibly have to offer an apprentice?

“I don’t want those doctors. They say you’re the best in the city, I want to work with the best.”

The best. Julian bites back another fit of laughter. Grinning — baring his teeth really — instead. “Now now, flattery won’t change my mind.”

She’s followed him again, standing as close behind him as she dares while he flits about the room, restless with nervous energy.

“If I was flattering you, doctor, you would know.”

Had he been this insistent when he’d come to Nazali the first time? Almost certainly, if the stories he’d heard oft repeated are true. How had they put up with him, and not thrown him out on his ear? The simple answer is that they are a much better doctor, a better person, than he. Nazali had discovered the plague, had made the greatest strides in its classification, its treatment, yet. And what had he done with their teachings? Squandered it all. Sat by and watched as patient after patient came to him for help, had plied them with false comforts, and in the end had done nothing, save for ease them into their inevitable deaths. He should tell her that. Should count out his many failures for her like he does for himself every night in place of sheep. Certainly that would frighten her away.

What he says instead is this: “Have you ever watched someone die?”

Her mouth goes slack, obviously taken aback by his question. For a moment he sees the fear flash across her eyes, but quick as it came it's replaced by something else. Something harder. She licks her lips and smiles, lips wobbling at the edges. "Do you ask all the girls that, or am I just special?"

He keeps his gaze hard, until the slight upturn of her lips collapses into a frown.

“Surely that can’t be a prerequisite for the job.”

“On the contrary,” Julian replies, nerves solidifying. “Humor me.”

Laurel’s eyes slide sideways. “No,” she says carefully, chewing over her words. “Though death and I are no strangers.”

Julian takes a deep breath, a brief flare of pain in his chest for having been the cause of the dark shadows that crossed over her features at that admission. He rakes a hand through his curls, shoving them away from his face, where they stay for a moment, before flopping back into his eyes.

“So you have lost someone?” he asks, though it is less question and more statement of fact.

Her gaze flicks back to him, sharp and pointed as the tip of a blade. “Hasn’t everyone in Vesuvia by now?” she asks him cooly.

Julian at least has the grace to look chagrined, feeling the heat of one of his telltale flushes burning under his collar. “I suppose you have a point there.”

“I don’t relish the thought of death, Doctor Devorak, if that’s your concern.” Laurel grips the strap of her bag tightly, staring up at him, imploring. “And I’ve no agenda, I assure you. I simply want to find some way to help.”

It is that moment that the door of the clinic swings open, the sharp RANG-CLANG-CLANG of the bell startling the both of them. A barrel-chested man heaves in the doorway, face shining, slick with sweat as he gasps, hands on his knees.

“Doctor! Doctor please, my husband he — “

Immediately, something shifts in Julian. One moment he is himself, good old Ilya Devorak. The next he is simply Doctor, parts within himself shuttering closed as others open, the whole of him changing as instinct takes over, just as it had every instant before a battle when the quiet set in and he and Nazali knew the first wave of bodies would soon hit; the calm before the storm, captured entirely within himself like a model ship trapped in a bottle.

“On it!” he barks, grabbing his overcoat and mask from their hooks with practiced ease, already making long strides towards the door before Laurel’s voice cuts through the quiet roar of his thoughts.

“Doctor please!” she all but hisses, chasing after him with stubborn steps. “I need — let me do something, anything!”

With a sigh, Julian reaches out and fixes the scarf about her neck back over her nose and mouth before placing his own mask over his face. Safe behind red glass, he cannot see the piercing blue of her eyes anymore, no longer at risk of being swept away by the violent current of her.

He takes her by the arm, and gently but firmly leads her to the door, past the panicked man who dumbly, silently, follows them out onto the street at Julian’s other hand. The rosy tendrils of pre-dawn light are barely making their way across the sky, the cobbles beneath their feet still heavy with morning fog yet to be burned away by the heat of the day. With a deft flick of his wrist, Julian switches the crude sign on the door front from ‘IN’ to ‘OUT’. When he turns back, Laurel still lingers under the halo of lantern light, hem of her skirts dancing around her ankles as she shifts anxiously from foot to foot.

“I — ”

“Go home, Miss Lobban,” he says, voice half muffled, mouth filling with the cloying scents of camphor and dried roses. “Truly, the best you can do for anyone is to not find yourself here again.”

With that Julian turns and follows the snuffling man where he leads, leaving Laurel behind him, disappearing into the pre-dawn gloom.

#lovelikeyours2020 #the arcana #my fic #apprentice laurel tag #nadia x apprentice #julian x apprentice

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