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ssson-of-sparda · 3 years

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WHAT FORTUNE GAVE - Prologue (Vergil x Nero's Mother)

Summary: Turmoil has engulfed the small Island of Fortuna, shaken now more than ever by a never-ending civil war opposing the religious Order of the Sword to a group of rebels named the Guard of Sparda. As he tries to unveil his father's secret past and achieve some hidden dark purpose, Vergil crosses path with Elissa, a young lady whose thirst for vengeance and blood is as red as the dress she's wearing. He doesn't want to care and he especially doesn't want to get involved but you don't choose your fate in Fortuna. That's the story Nero is about to discover.

Tags: Romance / Angst / Fluff / Explicit Sexual Content / Explicit Language / Canon-Typical Violence / Blood and Gore / Religion / The Order of The Sword / Civil War / Rebellion / Demons / Action and Adventure / Sparda's past

Author’s note: This is one hell of an ambitious project I put myself into, but I hope you will follow me in this journey which is basically another fan fiction about Vergil and Nero's mother. Probably not the best (I've read some prreeety good ones) but one that should be (hopefully) different from what was previously posted.I worked a lot on this story, made a lot of research and used many artistic references that I catalogued at the end of each chapter for the curious ones among you. Since English is not my mother tongue, feel free to let me know if there's any grammar mistake or if some sentences don't make any sense. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

In twenty-five years, Aifric’s Alehouse hadn’t changed even just a tiny bit. Same hefty old furniture. Same mucky walls and filthy floor covered in layers of dry alcohol that stick your shoes to the wooden slats each time you take a step. Same lamentable drunkards in search of more alcohol to drown their sorrows in, their arms around women that would pretend to adore them for a night in exchange for a bit of money. And, now that Vergil dared breathe a little, same foul stench of humidity, staleness and sweat, typical of this kind of underground bars from the no-go areas of the Castle Town of Fortuna. And the music … Don’t let him think about the music. Never thought he would come back here one day. His firm gloved hand grabbed the backrest of a wobbly stool that scratched the old wooden floor with an unpleasant creak as he pulled it to sit on it, revealing his presence to the brown-skinned man sipping his beer in silence next to him, his defeated pockmarked face hidden under a thick dirty white cloak that hadn’t been washed in probably years and that had lost almost all its glorious golden embroideries. Vergil eyed at him for a second, the same way the Moor had eyed at him when, more than two decades ago, he had sit on this very same stool, his then young frame hidden under a cloak similar to his and yet less odorous, a young wanderer looking for stories and answers. Strange how things seems to move in circle. “You’re too late. You know that?” The man’s voice was thickly and hoarse, due to the long years of alcohol abuse and contempt towards the world, towards that silver-haired ghost back from a distant past but especially towards himself. “Twenty-five fucking years too late to be more precise.” He got no answer to that reproach, not a word, just a nod and a pregnant silence that made him scoff. But his laugh, once so hearty and alive, held today nothing but melancholy and despise. “But at least she was right. You did come back.” Vergil peeped at the man again from the corner of his icy blue eyes, longer this time, but still with that eternal impassibility he was known for, hiding his slight surprise and his judgemental thoughts he knew deep down he shouldn’t have. But the barfly next to him was nothing like the man he had met years ago. This man was just the broken shadow of the one everyone in Fortuna once called Adel the Honourable¹ , Captain of the Guard of Sparda. “What the fuck are you doing here … Vergil?” He spat on his name, literally, not caring about what the solemn Son of Sparda would think of him, would do to him. He spat to show him his disgust, his hatred, even though he knew that a bit of saliva wasn’t enough to show the extent of his feelings. “Where is she?” Vergil asked with a calm voice that made Adel grimace (that voice was as nasally and annoying as he remembered) and finally glare at him, allowing Vergil to see how the years and the pain had marked and scared his once-handsome face. “You got some nerve to ask that now.” “ I need to see her.”Adel firmly hit the counter with his empty glass before turning around to stare at Vergil, giving him a long disdainful look he thought he could only give himself. “Sure, I’ll bring you to her. But you might want to give me that damn sword of yours so that I shove it deep in your stone-cold heart first.” Vergil smirked. This was way too reminiscent of old foolish squabbles he once found very amusing … though quite pathetic and most of the time one-sided. “Why don’t you use that crossbow² of yours instead?” The taunt wasn’t meant to defy him if one could read through Vergil’s phlegmatic voice. But the Moor³ interpreted it that way and yet refused to react to it, knowing how vain it would be. “I don’t have it anymore.” Adel opened his cloak to reveal a leather sling with no weapon attached to it. “I don’t have anything anymore. And we know full well that it wouldn’t have done shit to you.” “Trust me, Adel. I know what it’s like to lose everything.” Was it an attempt at sounding

sympathetic? Probably. After all, Vergil still felt somewhat confused by the occasional waves of humanity surging up from inside of him. “Do you?” He laughed with bitterness, not believing him for one second. “Bullshit! And you know why? Cause you never had anything!” If Vergil took this as a personal attack he didn’t let his body show it, but he nevertheless let out one simple sentence, a boast he knew would displease the brown-skinned man, a display of his pride and superiority he always thought he had over that mere human. “I had her.” Quite expectedly, Adel jumped from his stool and before falling back against the bar, tried to grab Vergil by his blue collar. But it looked too pathetic and clumsy to be considered menacing or dangerous. “Fucking stop talking about her!” He pointed his finger at him in defiance while tears formed in his dull black eyes that had long lost their charming spark. “She fucking loved you! She loved you so damn much and you never cared, not a damn second. So don’t come to me with all your ceremony and shit, pretending you care now?” He sobbed loudly and wiped his eyes with his fists, a gesture that only made Vergil frown. How low had that man sunk! And how wrong he was. “Nero needs to know.” The silver-haired man finally said, not very willing to continue this conversation due to a growing lack of patience. “He needs to know about his mother.”There was a new brief silence that could only be filled with glasses clinking, noisy hubbub and prostitutes giggles. Both men gauged each other, wondering who should talk first and what to say after the name of the boy the woman they both loved had given birth to was brought into the discussion. “So you finally know.” The Moor finally said as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “How does it feel?” Vergil didn’t want to talk about his feelings, especially not with a man he hadn’t seen in years and that would be too eager to judge him. His feelings were his to ponder and only his. “My feelings are none of your concern.” The brevity of Vergil’s sentences was annoying to Adel who had almost forgotten how it was to have a conversation with the stoic Son of Sparda. And when some people would call it introversion he would call it self-importance, despicable self-importance. “Do you ever think of her?” New intended silence. But yes, there were times when Vergil did think of her because that’s what happens when someone as special as her shares even just a tiny bit of his life. He thought of her when he was at his best and when he was at his lowest. And he had been thinking of her even more lately, each time he would look at Nero or think of him, each time he would remember his journey in Fortuna. She was a part of his past he would never be able to cast away. But again, none of Adel’s business. “Look, you don’t need to talk to me about her. Just tell Nero. I bet you know how to find him.”Glad to finally leave, Vergil stood up and dusted his long dark coat he felt had been soiled by such a dirty place. But right after he turned around to walk away, his old acquaintance spoke again with disarming heartfelt honesty. “It feels like hell to me.” Vergil stopped and slightly looked back at him from the corner of his eyes, at his defeated look staring deep in his empty glass again. “Like fucking hell actually. Seeing that kid of yours growing up to be just like her but at the same time just like you right under my nose. That smug smirk he got from you on the lips he inherited from her. Everything about that child makes me want to vomit or plug my eyes out because that makes me realise all I lost, all I could have had if you had never stepped a foot in Fortuna. You took her away from me, away from everyone, and when you finally got out from my life, you dared leave behind you a living reminder of your victory over me to torture me for the rest of my miserable days.” Vergil stood still, withstanding the man’s rancour without batting an eyelash. “The fact you considered her love a victory maybe is the reason why you

never had her.” Vergil replied and before pushing the double-leaf door of the bar, waited for an instant as if he was expecting something to come in, but Adel was stubborn and not keen on accepting defeat. “You took her away from your son!” He shouted and smiled when Vergil froze again on his way out. “ If that’s true, go tell him that then.”

***

Nico was pissed. Nero could tell it by the way she was furiously trying to fix the neon blue sign of their van. But what could he do about it? It wasn’t his fault if a starving empusa had decided to snack on the E while Nico was parked waiting for her friend to come back from his demon ass kicking routine. “D vil May Cry” Nero read out loud with a pout. “I don’t know, Nico. Works for me.” And yet, he had a feeling being angry because of a damn light was just a pretext to let out some pent up frustration due to god knew what. “Really? Is that how you gonna treat your family heritage now?” The black-haired woman harrumphed, threatening to hit her friend with a monkey wrench. “Is that how you gonna treat my precious Minotaurus after all he did for ya? After he followed you right into that hellish ficus?” “Qliphoth.” He corrected with a smile. “Yeah whatever.” Nero had a brief laugh but eventually shrugged, not seeing the problem as he read the neon sign on the van again. “The E doesn’t light up anymore. So what? We still know it’s Devil May Cry.” “When your deadbeat dad tore your arm out from its socket, didn’t I give ya a new one?” Nero grumbled, not finding the comparison funny or admissible. “That’s not the same! You can’t compare my arm to a damn neon letter. I needed my arm!” “And Devil May Cry needs its E! So stop complainin’ and pass me the stillson.” She ordered as she kept on adjusting the colourful wires hidden in the dented bodywork of the van. Nero sighed but handed her the tool anyway. “I thought you were tired of being my pet mechanic.” “ I am but like I said, I can’t let you treat my baby like that.” And then, he dared say it. “Seriously. I thought you would be busy reading those new files you found in your father’s old stuff? You didn’t say anything about what they were.” And, as Nico dropped the wrench on the hood, he immediately knew he maybe shouldn’t have asked that. “Cause they were not interesting. Just pieces of diaries he wrote when he was young, explainin’ how he started working for the Order and why he didn’t want me or my mother in his life anymore.” Nero frowned, not believing Nico for an instant. Her sentence didn’t make any sense to him cause he was sure any child who had grown up without a parent would be even just a tiny bit interested in knowing who they were or what they did. He knew he was. God! What he would give to know even a just of small piece of information about his mother, about who she was, how she looked like. But unfortunately for him, the only person who had all the answers to his questions was never prompt to give them, acting more like a vault than a chatterbox. “And that doesn’t interest you? Raaah come on, Nico!” He clicked his tongue. “I’m interested in his work. Nothing else. I couldn’t care less about his adventure with that other chick which is FYI apparently one of the reason why that asshole left my mother and me.” “ You father left your mother for someone else?” Nico glared at Nero, catching a judgment in his voice that never was there. “ Well I least I know why my father left my mother… No, actually, I know my mum, period.” Nero hadn’t heard that kind of words in years but the burn was as painful as he remembered. How many times he had heard the kids in Fortuna disrespecting him, disrespecting his mother, claiming she was a prostitute⁴ from the ill repute places of Fortuna. How many horrors he had to listen to. And how many punches he had received, and given, because of them. “Damn! I’m sorry, Nero. I didn’t mean.” Nico declared, horrified by her unusual behaviour and by the sudden sadness Nero tried to conceal in his blue eyes. “Forget it. I’m used to it.” He gestured her to let go and went rummaging in the toolbox for no particular reason but to occupy his mind with something else. But Nico wasn’t willing to end their conversation like that, the feeling of guilt eating at her. “I’m sure your mother was someone fantastic, Nero.” She had a soft comforting smile.

“I mean, she had to be, you know … to stand your father.” Nero chuckled but there was still that hint of misery, that very particular misery he only felt when thinking of his mother. A mix of bitterness, void and love. “Maybe she never really had to stand him. Maybe she was … a prostitute like everybody said.” Nico frowned; refusing to believe Nero would go for such bullshit. Didn’t he know how close-minded and rumour-hungry the people in Fortuna were? “Nah, I don’t think so.” She declared as she funnily wrinkled her nose. “No money in the world would be enough to accept to spend a night with your dad. Your mother had to veeeery nice and patient and ooooh so in love with him.” Nero spared a glance at Nico, deeply moved by her attempt at comforting him and hoping she was right. “Damn, I beg that poor woman was a saint, ‘cause Vergil might look yummy to most people’s standards but he ain’t fun.” Her lips pinched together, she had a sort of deep serious frown that wrinkled her entire forehead, a somewhat amusing grimace Nero was sure was meant to emulate his father characteristic impenetrability. She kinda nailed it but … “ Did you just say my father looks yummy?” Nero asked, quite disgusted. A crush on Lady, that he could get, but on his father … It made him shiver and want to throw up. “Huh, to most people standards!” She repeating, clapping her hands between each syllables. “I’m not most people.” Nero’s eyes widened when he heard familiar slow and steady footsteps coming from behind the door of the garage. “I mean, do you really think I could feel even just a tiny bit attracted to ‘Power! I need more power!’?” She imitated with a cavernous voice and Nero tried not to laugh. But it wasn’t Nico’s new impersonation of Vergil that was making him want to do so. It was actually his father standing on top of the stairs, stoic and still like a marble statue staring impassibly at Nico making a fool of him. Maybe he should warn her of his presence. Yes, maybe he should. He timidly pointed at his father standing right behind her; still unsure he wanted this scene to stop. But he couldn’t wait to see Nico’s face when she would notice Vergil. And oh god, how priceless it was. Nico was an intrepid, loud and lovely person but when her dark eyes took a small glance of Vergil, she froze and cleared her throat, definitely uncomfortable and … yeah a tiny bit scared. “But it has its charm. You’ve got some charm. That’s undeniable.” She rectified, looking at Vergil who eventually nodded, a faint smile on his face that meant more ‘yeah right’ than ‘how funny’ in Vergil language. He didn’t find this funny at all. “Good evening to you too, Nicoletta. Nero.” He nodded once again, casting his aura of solemnity all over the garage. “Nico. Just Nico … nevermind.” Nico mumbled in a whisper that Vergil heard but chose to ignore. Nicknames were not his thing… They had never been his thing.He went down the stairs, his hand resting on the hilt of his precious Yamato as always and looked at the van with a new frown. “You two are busy working on some repairs, perhaps.” He asked in an effort to be as familial as possible, something that wasn’t his forte at all. It made the two friends exchange a curious glance. “ Yes … I mean, no, we were done.” Nero replied, wondering what his father was doing here. After all, unexpected visits were not in Vergil’s habits. “ No, we were not. Gotta fix that E, remember?” Nico tapped at the letter with insistence. “ That again?” The young man sighed. “Is Dante here?” That could explain Vergil’s presence in Fortuna. But as 90% of the time – or more – the Son of Sparda evicted an answer, changing the subject – or ignoring it – with a destabilizing yet infuriating indifference. “ Miss Goldstein is right, a E is important.” He spoke, his icy blue eyes looking towards a distant past, towards memories he held in his heart he was rediscovering more and more with each day spent with his family, with his son. “ Thank you! See, I told you!” Nico

shouted, proud to be right. “ What are you doing here?” Nero finally questioned, impatient to finally know the truth behind his father’s presence. “I was in Fortuna visiting an old acquaintance.” Vergil weighed his words with smoothness as he paced in the garage looking at his surroundings without no real interest in them. “ You … got acquaintances?” The slight frown of disbelief on Nero’s face made him suddenly look so much like his father but Vergil didn’t notice, too busy staring at the extinguished E that looked so dull surrounded by such neon blue lights when it should have shone as brightly as them if not more. “Hopefully, he should visit you soon.” “ Wait! What? Why?” Nero always saw his father as an impenetrable mystery, even when he was just V, but right now he couldn’t tolerate him being so evasive. “To give you the answers you want.” And he couldn’t not tolerate him being a stolid piece of shit either. “About my mother?” Or a mute one. But with Vergil, silence often meant a lot. “Hey! You can’t just leave me like that!” Nero caught his father’s right arm with a violent strength, a vision that stirred a new one, an old one, one Vergil regretted. “Plus, why would you send a stranger in my house to talk to me about my mother? Why don’t you do it yourself?” God! If she knew what he had done to their son. What would she say? What would she do? “Silence. I thought so. You don’t even have the courage to tell me her name so why should I expect more from you.” In his lifetime, only a few persons had been able to defeat Vergil, one of them being his son. So, after looking down at his boots for a second, he walked away, not keen on riling up Nero even more, not today.“Elissa.⁵” The name, left unpronounced for so many years, burnt Vergil's tongue when each blazing letter, probably angry to have been reduced to dormant embers for so long, managed to escape the barrier of his tight lips. But Vergil welcomed this fiery pain without blinking and even dared say it again, embracing the ignition once more with a soft melancholic smile. He was part demon. Fire couldn't hurt him. So why being afraid of it? “Your mother’s name was Elissa.” Plus there was no danger in saying her name, just liberation. It was a beautiful name, after all. And for a second, he felt like his young self again. “Now fix it, would you?” That E meant a lot to Vergil.

REFERENCES: ¹ Adel The Honourable: Adel is a Persian name derived from the Arabic عَدَلَ meaning "to act justly". I added the title "the Honourable" to reinforce the idea his character was made to be fair, honest and just. Adel also belongs to the House of Montefeltro, a name you will discover later. ² crossbow: I intended to give Adel a simple bow as it is the weapon of righteousness (ndlr: Robin Hood) but then I chose to give him a crossbow because I thought the addition of the word "cross" was giving a religious connotation that suited his character. The fact that he lost the weapon is of course meaningful. ³ The Moor: reference to Shakespeare's Othello. ⁴ claiming she was a prostitute: This idea of Nero's mother being a prostitute was directly taken from Devil May Cry: Deadly Fortune. In the novel, we learn that Nero was often bullied by the other kids claiming his mother was a whore. ⁵ Elissa: Elissa is the other name that was given to Dido, first queen of Carthage and lover of the demi-god Aeneas, in Virgil's Aeneid. Her name is composed of the Punic reflex of "El-" meaning "god", and "‐issa" that means "fire", hence why her name burns Vergil's lips when he says it. Her name carrying the word "fire" also echoes the red colour of her dress and her hair as well as her affiliation to the House of Minos you will read about later. In a nutshell, this girl is on fire! ;-)

#devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil #nero's mother #vergil x nero's mother #vergil fanfiction

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years

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You Broke Me First (C.H)

Pairing: former FWB!Calum X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Based on the song “You Broke Me First” by Tate McRae. You are trying to forget about the man who broke your heart, so it’s a surprise when his name appears on your phone again.

Warnings: Angst af. Language. Mild Smut. Mentions of Alcohol and cheating. Probably one or two grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 5K

Author’s Note: Requested by the lovely @thebasicbitch-things ✨ I loved writing this piece, maybe because I love the song so much, so thank you for requesting it and I hope I made it justice 💕. Feedback, reblogs and comments are always welcome and appreciated it! You can read my other works HERE. Happy reading! 🦋

@thebasicbitch-things : Can you write a Calum imagine based off the song You Broke me first by Tate McRae?? Like I’m just in a weeping mood. Thank you xxx

Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself

But you shoulda told me that you were thinkin' 'bout someone else

You're drunk at a party or maybe it's just that your car broke down

Your phone's been off for a couple months, so you're calling me now

The liquid burns your throat, but you don’t really feel it anymore. When the heat starts spreading around the rest of your body is when you know you need another one. And another one. And another one. Anything to keep him from your mind.

It’s ironic how the memory of him still lingers on, even more with every drink you drown. Well, it’s not so ironic as it is shitty. But it’s at times like this, when you’re at a random club in the middle of the night surrounded by strangers trying to create stories of their own while all you want to do is forget, that the only thing your mind can focus on is him.

A year ago:

“Babe?” You heard his voice as he exited the bathroom. Still shirtless and with his boxers on, hanging loosely “Are you okay?”

You sat down on the bed, your naked skin barely covered by the messy sheets “Mhmm” you mumbled, still zooned out in your own thoughts and worries as you saw Calum grab his shirt and jeans from the floor.

It was always the same. He would call or text, you would meet with any excuse, hang out for a while before moving to the bedroom. The same old story of friends who fuck each other, with the same old ending every night: you in your bed watching him get dressed and close the door on his way out.

“Do you really have to leave?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“I have to”

“No, you don’t have to”

“Y/N…”

You hated that condescending tone. Not only that, but you hated yourself, too. You and this whole messy situation you got yourself into. You didn’t know how bad of an idea it was to accept his proposal of friends with benefits when you already had feelings for him. But who could say no to Calum Hood? Especially with the hopes of becoming something more along the way.

At the beginning it was all you could dream of. The night seemed endless when he hold you close to him, breathing the same air as your bodies collided with each other, creating messes as you explored every inch of skin you had to offer, seeing stars explode with every right touch, hearing each other’s names like prayers coming from your parting lips. It was almost like you couldn’t get enough, almost.

“What? God, Calum, would it kill you to stay the night just once? Would it ruin your reputation of a heartthrob batchellor?”

“What has gotten into you?” He asked in confusion at your sudden outburst “You know the rules of this”

“Oh, the rules. Fuck them”

The rules were simple: Never overstaying, no exclusivity, don’t let others find out, never do anything public… but most importantly: Never fall in love. You had agree to that once, but most certainly broken almost every rule. You’ve fallen in love with him.

“Y/N…”

“It hurts, Calum” You said with glossy eyes “It hurts when you leave, and I- I can’t watch you do that anymore”

Calum’s eyes soften a bit. Debating whether or not he should stay. But after a pleading “Please” from your lips he caved in, laying down on the bed next to you, pulling you closer to him.

You smiled, allowing yourself to drift away in dreams and hopes of him laying next to you for the rest of your lives. Little did you know that those dreams were to be crushed next morning when you find an empty bed and a note with a little ‘sorry’ scribbled on it.

That was the first nights of many where he would lay down with you. Sometimes he would stay till morning and share a cup of coffee with you at breakfast. Other times he would disappear as a ghost in the middle of the night, only leaving the marks on your body as proof of his presence. It hurted, but at least you didn’t watch him walk away. You never watched as he did.

Took a while, was in denial when I first heard

That you moved on quicker than I could've ever, you know that hurt

Swear for a while I would stare at my phone just to see your name

But now that it's there, I don't really know what to say

You feel your friend’s grasp on your arm as they drag you down to the dance floor. Pulling you away from your own pity party as you watch how they sway to the beat of a song you’ve never heard of, soon joining them with the alcohol in your veins rushing towards your brain and taking control of your every move. ‘Tonight is not about Calum’ you tell yourself as you let the music take you away, already feeling the effects of the one too many shots you did earlier. But some things are easier said than done.

It’s funny, how after so many months of not seeing each other you can still feel him in your skin. You memorized the way his hands wrapped around your waist and the smell of his cologne. You could still feel his breath on your neck, the burning kisses he used to leave and the whispers that got lost inside a dream. Even now that you are dancing along to an ear shattering beat, the rhythm of your heart still beats and longs for him.

You can feel yourself in the dire need of another drink, desperate to push those memories away and cleanse yourself from his touch once and for all. You don’t care how many nights it would take, how many people or how many hangovers. You are determined to get that boy out of your system, where he won’t hurt you anymore.

“Y/N!” Your friend yells over the music, gesturing towards your hand “Your phone is glowing!”

You bring your phone to your face, trying to focus on the image that’s plastered across the screen. A name pops up, a name you haven’t seen in so long.

Muttering an “Oh fuck” you press ‘decline’ over and over again, until Calum stopped calling.

Seven months ago:

It’s been two weeks since you last heard from him. It’s been two weeks since he left you alone in a fuzz. It’s been two weeks since he slammed the door and he still hasn’t called.

Maybe he was right and you fucked everything up. But you were sure of your words, you know there’s truth to them, so you stan by them. He will soon realize his mistake, he has to. He wouldn’t leave you like that, would he? He must know he hurt you, he must. The words he said… they are like tattoos on your mind, they don’t seem to fade with time. But you knew it wasn’t entirely your fault. You were as guilty as he was.

For the past two weeks you’ve been glued to your screen, hoping for his name to appear. Taping your screen randomly to see if you’ve gotten a text or a call or a dm or even a fucking email. But nothing ever came.

It wasn’t until you were scrolling down Twitter that you saw it.

It was a paparazzi photo, he was wearing a classic tee and the sweatpants you once told him were your favorite on him. His hair was longer, or at least it seemed like it, his eyes avoiding the cameras as he walked through the busy streets of LA as he normally would. The only difference is the hand that was holding his.

A lump formed in your throat as you opened the tweet to find a thread of even more pictures of him with the mysterious person, grabbing them by the waist and smiling as they came closer. The paparazzi seemed to catch every single intimate moment he was able to show in public, much more than he ever showed you when you were both out and sober, at least. But Calum seemed happy, and that hurt you the most.

A thousand questions ran through your head as you ignored the happy tweets from fans celebrating that his favorite band member finally got a significant other. How long has this been going on? Did he ever tell you about it? You never claim exclusivity, so it could’ve had happen when you were still ‘together’, meaning he choose them. He left you and chose them, replacing you and everything you didn’t get to have without even saying goodbye.

Swallowing the bitterness of the memory with a shot of tequila, you press decline once again and order another drink. What would you say to him anyway? Would you curse him? Would you kiss him? Would he even apologize or pretend that it never happened? The truth is, you don’t even want to know.

You catch some flirty eyes from across the bar, but you ignore them as you try to collect your thoughts on this whole situation, and besides, don’t need another heartbreak at the moment.

“That guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he came in” Said the bartender, pouring you another drink.

You lift your gaze towards ’pretty eyes’ over the bar, but he already seemed to have lost interest in you as his eyes scattered all over the room, looking for another person to spend his time with.

“Doesn’t seem like it” You nod toward the other end of the bar.

“What? No, not him. Him!”

They point behind you and you turn around quickly, a pretty bad idea considering how drunk you are at the moment. But wasted or not, you would recognize those eyes anywhere.

Calum is standing in the middle of a sea of people, but his eyes are solemnly focusing on you as he raises his phone to his ear, raising his eyebrows as he hears the dial tone. Almost immediately, your phone starts ringing next to you with the all too familiar name popping out again.

Without breaking eye contact, you press decline once again, standing up quickly as you start to walk up to the nearest exit, trying to get away from him as fast as you could. ‘Tonight is not about Calum’ you told yourself earlier that night, and yet there he was, pushing his way through a drunk crowd to get towards you.

“Y/N!” You hear him call, but you are not stopping. You don’t need this confrontation right now. You don’t want to see him or talk to him. You want to forget him and everything you ever did.

Feeling like your chest is going to explode at any second, you accelerated your pace, not caring how many people you have to push to get to the door as long as he doesn’t find you. Your legs, however, had other plans as they give out due to the mix dizziness and adrenaline you were feeling, just mere meters from the exit. You curse your past self for having so many drinks as you try to get up. But, soon enough, you feel an arm rounding around your waist and pulling you to your feet.

After almost eight months you find yourself reflected in those eyes again. The same eyes that made you feel butterflies in your stomach everytime he looked your way. You couldn’t help but get drawn into them, remembering that the last time you saw them they replaced the desire with anger, shaking you to your core.

He was saying something, you were sure of it because his mouth is moving “What?!”

“I said, Why aren’t you answering your phone?!” He yelled over the music. Your drunk mind can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him or cry right there on the spot.

“That’s none of your business! Now please let go of me, I want to go home”

You push yourself away from his grasp “Y/N, please I need to ta-“ He interrupted himself as he watched you almost trip over your own feet again, clearly too drunk to stand straight. In a matter of seconds, he was by your side again, this time pulling your arm over his shoulders so you could lay on him “Wha- How many drinks did you have?”

“As many as I needed” You scoffed, trying to pull away, but his grip on your waist was stronger.

“For what?! Drown yourself?”

“I needed to forget you” Calum clenches his jaw, feeling like his heart was shattered into a million pieces “But that’s clearly not working, given that you are here. Would you please let me go?”

“Y/N you are too drunk to function,”

“Am not!”

“Please, let me take you home. I need to talk to you”

“Leave me alone, Calum. I don’t need you and I most definitely don’t want to talk to you”

You turn your face to him. It has been a long time since you last saw him. He has more curls now, and a little five o’clock shadow, but his yes,,, oh, his eyes. The time stops, or at least it feels like it, it was almost like the first time you saw them, magnetic and filled with something you couldn’t decipher, but now they had something different. They were hurting, pleading, almost begging you for something you didn’t quite understand at the moment, but you know you couldn’t say no to those eyes, at least not here and not in your condition.

So after making sure you could stand properly, you caved “Fine”

I know you, you're like this

When shit don't go your way you needed me to fix it

And like me, I did

But I ran out of every reason

The car ride was as silent as a tomb. The sounds of the city night and the flashing of streetlights were your only source of distraction. You looked through the window, not wanting to make any eye contact with the man that broke your heart. He, however, was anxious for you to spare a glance towards him. Calum’s fingers taped the steering wheel nervously, he wanted to fill the silence with something, anything. But his words came short as he realized that you weren’t the person he knew, you were a stranger sitting in his car. The clothes you were wearing, the state of drunkenness you were in, the anger behind your eyes and words, and the fact that you couldn’t even stan him touching you… that was not the Y/N he knew.

Once you reached the house, you didn’t even wait for him to turn the car off as you practically jumped out of the seat and went to open the door. Calum quickly following you, half of him afraid that you might hurt yourself, the other half afraid that you would lock him out.

He let out a breath of relief as you let him in. Remembering the last time he was here.

Seven and a half months ago:

It was a normal afternoon for the two of you. Things were going well, Calum started to be more open towards you, spending the night, cuddling and hanging out more without the promise of sleeping together afterwards and you loved it. You were having fun as well, you would walk Duke together or cook dinner or just exist together by watching a movie or listening to his favorite songs that you “absolutely needed to hear” And today was no different as you cuddled with him watching one of Netflix’s crappy teenage movies. Things were going well, or so you thought.

You were straddling him, lips melting together as the movie was long forgotten. His hands were cupping your ass, setting a slow pace with your hips as you grinded on him. You whole body was on fire, ready to burst when his lips made their way down your neck, leaving marks that you would later trace with your fingers as you try to hide them.

“Calum,” You moaned softly as he found your sweet spot under your ear, sucking and biting it like only he knew how. Your hands flew to the back of his head, fingers lost in his hair, tugging it lightly every time he met your hips with a dry thrust.

He groaned, drunk to sounds you were making. He loved the effect he had on you, almost as much as the effect you had on him. It was addictive, dangerous. He knows he shouldn’t play with fire, but what a lovely way to burn it was.

You moaned again when you felt his teeth grazing your jaw, finding their way to your lips again. The rolling of your hips was faster, more desperate than before, the friction was almost unbearable. You needed him with a passion “C-Calum…”

“Tell me what you want, baby” He said with a raspy voice, breathing onto your neck “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you”

You shuddered at his words, getting dizzy with his touch, his soft groans and his eyes filled with lust, looking straight into your soul, burning like the sun.

You grabbed his head by the sides, pulling him closer until your foreheads pressed together “You” you whispered loud enough for him to hear “I want all of you, Calum”

A couple of hours passed and you were still laying on the sofa, cuddled against the naked chest of the bassist. His fingers were caressing your sides as both of your breathings became even, coming out of your highs.

You felt infinite in his arms, safe and wanted. You wanted this to last forever, to have him only for yourself and be his everything. You craved for more intimate looks, for innocent touches while in public, you wanted to show the world how in love you were with this man that has, not only conquered your heart, but also your soul. You loved him, and you hope with your whole heart that he loves you too.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, drawing circles down your arm.

You debated on whether to tell him the truth or not. You knew Calum had always denied himself the possibility of love, stating time and again that he doesn’t really believe in it. But you’ve seen a change in him for the last few months you were together. He was more caring, more attentive, staying longer than he should and being there for you when you needed, not only for a quick fuck anymore. Maybe the chances of him loving you back were not as low as you thought.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?” You ventured, lifting your gaze to meet his. He gave you a quizzical look, not really sure of what you were referring to “I do want all of you, Calum”

He smiled “You have me now”

“Yeah,,, but that’s not what I meant”

Taking a brave step, you pushed yourself forward and kissed him. You were done hiding the feelings you’ve been accumulating over the years, ready to let yourself go and drown on him. Only him.

Calum, however, was taken by surprise. Pulling himself from you.

“I thought we agree on not to catch feelings for each other” He said coldly. Already sitting up and looking across the room for his clothes.

You sat and watched as he got up from his spot on the couch and started to dress as fast as he could.

“Cal-“

“We agreed, Y/N. We said no string attached. Goddammit, everything was going so well, but you had to fuck it up, didn’t you?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Shattering you completely from the inside. You tried to collect your thoughts as the tears threatened to come out, but Calum kept going.

“What the hell were you thinking? What were you expecting? Huh?”

“It’s not my fault that I love you” Your voice sounded broken, weak, and you hated that. How could he be so angry? What gave him the right when you were the one who was hurting?

“Well, it’s not mine either! Is it?” Calum said with exasperation, putting on his shirt.

“I thought-“

“What? That I loved you? Y/N, I don’t love anyone! You knew that when we started this!”

“And what am I to you then?!” You matched his tone of voice, tears were already spilling down your face but you didn’t care. You were fuming “What am I, Calum? A friend? A good fuck? Huh? Was I just a toy that you could play with every time you felt needy? Have you ever thought of me as something more?”

Calum’s stare was cold as ice. He was standing in the middle of the living room, clenching his fists to either side of his body until his knuckles became white. You, on the other hand, were sitting on the couch, crying. But your eyes burned with anger as you saw how carelessly he was invalidating your feelings, throwing everything away just because he couldn’t admit his own. A silent war was being fought between the two of you, both of you so scared but with nothing left to lose.

It seemed like ages had passed before Calum spoke again, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door.

“Was there ever something more?”

You kept staring at the nothing he left behind, the last thing you heard was the slamming of your front door, leaving you alone and completely heartbroken.

Calum followed you into the kitchen, completely avoiding the living room where he last saw you, where he left you. He felt weirdly unwelcomed as you poured yourself a glass of water without even offering one to him, maybe he was.

You drink your water slowly, thinking that that will give you time to think on what to say to him. Maybe he would start talking soon, but the only thing he does is stare at you from the other side of the kitchen island. “How did you know where I was?” You asked.

“Your friend’s stories. You may have blocked me from yours, but they haven’t”

Then, silence came over you again. It was almost like he was waiting for you to say something, just like you always did. You played this game before, you are not going to cave. You are not going to give him the satisfaction of controlling the situation here.

“I need to talk to you” He finally said, letting his shoulders relax for a bit.

“You keep saying that. But you sure haven’t done a lot of talking”

The tension in the room was so thick that it could easily be cut by a knife. You always wondered what you would say to him, what would you feel the next time you saw him and, right now, you felt like there was nothing more to say. He had no right appearing into your life again, not when you were picking yourself together after he shattered you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“For what, exactly?” The venom in your voice was palpable, Calum knew this was not going to be easy for him “For leaving me here alone and then got yourself another person to play the ‘couple’ part? For practically calling me a whore? Or for giving me shit because of what I felt for you, knowing damn well you felt the same?”

You tilted your head, waiting for his answer, but it seems you left him speechless. Good.

Calum ran his hand through his curls, staring at the floor then back at you “I fucked up”

“That much is true”

“I’m serious, Y/N” He started walking towards you “I’m sorry for everything, you are right. You always are. I just- I didn’t know what to do! I panicked and-“

“And that’s your excuse of why you ran away instead of facing the problem?”

“I was scared! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Calum raised his voice. He was now standing a couple of feet in front of you, so close and yet so far away from you “Y/N, I was so fucking scared. You know that I’ve never had a committed relationship before, that I never let things get too far but with you.. God, I never felt the same with anyone like that before not after you. And then you said all of those things and I- Hearing you say that you love me was too much, I couldn’t process it and instead of saying something coherent I just lashed out on you and you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry”

Calum took a step forward, softly grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He took your silence as his cue to continue.

“You were always there for me, every time I needed you were there. No questions asked, no judging, not waiting for something in return. Always making me laugh, supporting me and letting me take a break from the messy life I have. You were the best thing in my life and I took you for granted. I hate that it has taken me this long to realize that, but I just miss you, Y/N. I miss us, so much that you can’t imagine how much it hurts. I need you with me, please let’s just go back to where we started. Or we can start over, whatever you want! But, please, baby, please don’t leave me”

And just before you know it, Calum cupped your cheek with his free hand and brought your face closer to him, crashing his lips into yours. You responded almost immediately by parting your lips and granting him more access, getting completely lost inside the kiss.

For a moment it felt like the old times, he tastes just like you remember and his touch stills makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. For years you’ve been waiting for this, for him to feel the same about you and love you without any fears or doubts, claiming that he was yours and you were his. You wanted this for so long… but why does it feel so bad?

Gathering all the courage you could manage, you push Calum away from you.

“S-stop!” You said, trembling “Stop, this isn’t right”

He gave you a confused look as he took a step back “Y/N-“

“What about your partner? Calum, did you at least break up with them before you came to find me?” The way he looked at the floor gave you all the answers you needed. You raised your hand to your forehead, suppressing the urge to cry or laugh at his antics “Oh my God”

“I was going to! I swear I just-“ He failed to find an excuse “Things were doing awful between us lately, Y/N. You have to understand, I-“

“What?!” You spat “that you had to make sure I was on board with all of this?! I am not a consolation prize, Calum. I am not a second choice!”

“Baby, I know. I-“

“Don’t call me that!”

Calum took another step back, he has never seen you so angry before.

“How dare you? How. Dare. You, Calum. Coming here after eight months! saying all that shit about how much I mean to you when it’s just bullshit”

“Y/N, it’s not-“

“I’m not fucking finish” You say raising a hand to silence him “Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve? I don’t get a single text or call or fucking smoke signal from you for eight months, knowing how I felt about you, and now suddenly you're asking for it back? Saying that you miss all that we had? We had nothing, Calum. We were nothing more than just a fuck around, you said it yourself, didn’t you? There was no ‘us’ for you to miss. You made damn sure of that. You don’t miss me, not really. You miss how I made you feel. How easy it was for me to be there for you every time you called, well, I’m tired of fixing all your problems, I ran out of every reason to do it.

And I was so stupid, you know? For believing just for a second that this could actually mean something when it never meant something to you in the first place! Did you even think about how I would feel about all of this? Of course not! Why would you? After all, I’m just Y/N! The one who always gets stepped on, why should my feelings matter? If I’m always going to be there for you and everything you ask for. Well, fuck that!”

“Y/N..” Calum tried to intervene, but you couldn’t hear him.

“You want to know what I did after you left? I cried myself to sleep for weeks, reliving every moment we had, every word you said just before you left. Waiting by the phone for hours just to see if you’d call. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I was the living incarnation of death because I realized I lived just for you. Well, not anymore. You said you were hurting, you have no idea what I went through so, I’m sorry, but I don't really care how bad it hurts. I’m done. We are done”

You walk by him and towards the front door, opening it as an invitation for him to leave. Calum, however, remained standing in your kitchen, staring at you with glossy eyes.

“Baby, please don’t do this” He said with a trembling voice “I don’t know what to do without you I’m- I’m broken”

You were still standing by the door. Unmoving and without an inch of sympathy for the man crying in front of you.

“You broke me first, Calum. But I’m all glued back together now, and I did it by myself. Hope one day you could learn to do that too”

And, for the first time in months, you saw him leave.

398 notes · View notes

thattimdrakeguy · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Bruce hugs Tim after Tim fought with Jack

Alright, fellas, gonna be honest. Got way into the whys and hows of the actual fight with Jack over the actual comforting hug with Bruce.

It’s in there, oh boy it’s there, but I’m curious to see if this thing even fits into a Tumblr post cause I don’t know what the limits are actually.

So uh,

Trigger Warnings for: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Mentions of Drugs, Threats of the Police (is that a trigger warning? cause I feel like it should be nowadays), traumatization, and potentially more. Oh, and Alfred has a gun but idk if that falls into any triggers.

It’s not a “Jack is evil” fiction. I tried to stay away from that. But I didn’t try to not make him do something I did feel like he’d do at the same time. He never hits Tim, I’ll say that.

Hoping it’s not too bad. I feel it’s half decent. So ayy.

Wasn’t sure what to call it.

Maybe “Assumptions and Consequences” idk.

Also probably has lots of typos and grammar mistakes so sorry for that lol.

Tim Drake loved his dad. His biological mother had already died, and Jack was all Tim had. Dana Winters was only Jack’s girlfriend who was wanting to become Tim’s mother, but it hadn't happened quite yet. So Tim only had one parent left, and man, did it suck to have a parent sometimes when you’re Robin. All the lying from having to be Robin drove Tim mad some days. Plus neither of them were quite compatible with one another. Honestly how were they even related?

Jack thought Tim was a bad kid. Well, he didn’t, but look at the evidence. Tim kept sneaking out, leaving school early, getting into fights. That was a kid acting out if Jack ever knew, and Jack would blame himself, until he couldn’t be bothered about it. Was it Jack’s fault? Jack had a habit of forgetting it a day or two after an accident. So he never really did improve yet, despite saying he would.

But the thing was, Tim wasn’t a bad kid. He was a great kid; a really great kid. Tim Drake was Robin the Boy Wonder. Not that he was the most talented, or most efficient at being Robin, but Tim filled the job out well. Being a good kid as Robin, meant having to be a bad kid as Tim though. When Tim saw bad things happening, Tim had to disappear, for Robin to take a beating, and for Tim to keep the bruises.

One day it got too much for Jack to handle. Tim wasn’t even home yet, and Jack’s face was red. The man of the house kept pacing back and forth really considering what he had to do to contain Tim this time. In his sea of tension he started biting down on his fist to get out some of the anger but it wasn’t stopping. What would Tim’s mother think of Tim right now? All those years of Janet protecting Tim and coddling him, and all it took was--what a few years for Tim to turn into this? Janet would’ve been so disappointed in him.

Jack sat down in his recliner past midnight to wait for his son, and only seconds after the creaking sound of his chair did he hear the doorknob twisting on the opening door that must’ve been his son. Must’ve been a lazy day for Tim. Normally Tim would come in through the window of his bedroom. Jack was actually listening for a creak on the walls. After a quick sigh that came deep within the chest, Jack tossed down his remote swiftly onto the table making a loud smacking sound, as he stood up and turned around.

It was darkly lit like a shadowy alley way in the house. All Jack wanted to do was scare the crap out of Tim. He didn’t care how small Tim was, or how young he was, if Tim was so willing to let Jack be scared, Jack thought it only made sense for him to scare Tim right back to make it only fair. Jack grabbed a flashlight on the coffee table and shined it in the eyes of the small figure that stood right in his doorway. And he made sure to make himself seem as big as he possibly could. Standing up straight, broadening his shoulders, and holding his flashlight up higher.

He prepared his voice as something similar to Clint Eastwood. All he did all day was watch movies and take phone calls, and it really showed. “Tim, do you mind telling me, why in God’s green hell are you so damn f--” Jack quickly squinted his eyes. This wasn’t Tim he was looking at. It was Ariana Dzerchenko, and she was shaking in her boots, while Jack seemed disappointed it wasn’t his son. “What the hell are doing in my damn house?! You’re telling me at 3 A-#@!@#-M you don’t have anything better to do, then open my door when I never even gave you a key? My son isn’t even here. You trying to steal from me?” Jack went over to grab her arm after the brash accusation. “Get over here, I’m calling your Uncle.”

Ariana moved her arm away and backed outside, still shaking. She stared at Jack scared, and concerned. Ariana could tell he was disappointed for the wrong reasons

“Look, it’s either in my house and I call your uncle, and you take another foot and it’s the police.” grunted Jack. He stopped bothering doing the gravelly voice, but he was still oh-so-damned pissed. After Ariana didn’t bother making any move of any sorts, Jack relented and tried to talk a little more normal. “Do you know where Tim is?” he asked like it was only the afternoon and he happened to pass her in the park.

“N-no.” was the only word Ariana could manage to get passed her lips.

Jack’s brow lowered, and angled. “Then why are you here, Miss?” He took a step closer to Ariana. “And be honest.”

“T-Tim, uh, he, uh, he asked me to bring back this and put it on the kitchen counter.” the girl held up the house key. “And all he said to me was that he was going to be late. Really late, and that he didn’t want his dad to worry again.”

All Ariana could see of Jack was the way the shadows contoured around his aging face. Making him not even look human. It made him look paler, with black eyes and a still face that would barely move except when it got angrier.

“He tell you where he was?” Jack asked again as he turned his head to the left. His left ear was his good ear.

“No, sir. He just sounded...swollen-y.”

“Swollen?”

“Like he just got hit in the face again.”

“Did you hear anything else?”

“A really loud engine and some gunshots later when I called him. Look, Mister, I’m really worried about him too. I didn’t even want to come over here--but I was just--I was just hoping he’d be here again maybe. Do you know what he could be doing?”

“Hell no. At this point my son doesn’t tell me anything. All I can guess is that the son of mine, I spent all that money on, is dealing drugs, like my money isn’t good enough for him.”

“Drugs? Timmy? Drugs? I’m not his parent or anything, I’m just his friend, but Tim would never do anything like that. I think he’s in trouble in another way.”

“That’s what I thought, but somehow every week I’m getting a call from the school counselor telling me that my small-fry son is dealing with a bruise of some kind. They found him passed out in school one time, and I found dirt marks on the outside of his window. What kind of normal former-board-school-student do you hear about ending up like that?”

“But Tim went on for hours one time about how he hates drugs. He saw a kid with a bag of something and wouldn’t stop ranting for what felt like an hour. He--”

“Ari--”

“--wouldn’t ever--”

“You can go home, Ariana! And thank you for your time. I won’t tell the police, or your uncle. But just go home now.”

“I--” Ariana closed her eyes and realized she better just go. “Okay. Okay, I’ll...go. Just tell me Tim’s okay when he comes back. And--if it actually ends up being drugs...tell him--tell him we’re over.” she fled the scene not being able to handle it anymore.

Jack didn’t answer back, but he knew that she knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything that was going to happen. Once he heard a ruffling in the bush right where Tim’s room would be, he knew that the boy came home. Taking another chest deep breath he slowly walked to that wall where he saw Tim, and he used the flashlight on him for real this time.

That middle parted bowl cut, and baby-face were impossible to misidentify. His already large eyes grew larger and he looked like he saw an entire army of ghosts coming for his head. Sneaking into his own house was something he’s done dozens of times. Tim loved sneaky time, but this time he thought he really messed it up. His Robin career and life flashed right in front of his eyes.

Nothing in Jack’s mind resembled pleasant. Everything was fire and disappointment. Actually seeing his son in the act of sneaking around outside, when he should be in bed made everything he thought felt true as the solution to a math problem. Just like the outlaws in the westerns he watched, Jack narrowed his eyes as he paid attention to his target. He really needed to get outside himself fast.

Tim gasped, as his mind had no thoughts besides a realization that his dad finally caught him sneaking in. “Dad?!” he uttered before being grabbed by the collar of his sweater.

“So you finally decided that my house is better than whatever alley you've been laying in every night?” pushing himself closer to Tim, Jack made it so the only thing he could see of Tim was the panic in his baby blue eyes.

Meanwhile, all Tim could see was the anger in his dad’s face. “W-what are you talking about?!” Tim’s voice cracked. He knew his dad thought something was going on, but he never imagined it’d be this intense. He could break the grip on Jack at any time, but would Jack find that even more suspicious? Tim still had Dana thinking he was too small to play football. Could Jack believe Tim would be able to take down someone over a foot his own size?

“The drugs, Tim. The drugs.” The hoarseness to Jack’s voice was painful. If his hand was around Tim’s neck and not just his collar, he’d be strangling the kid. “I've been staying up each night for the past three days waiting for you to come home. To have a fatherly chat, but all I ever hear is you sneaking up the wall, and I’ve had enough of that. I try to be a father, and you just try to treat me like an obstacle. Is all I am to you, is in your way, Tim? I paid for your freaking ninja camp, and it ends within a week of you being there. If the people running the camp didn’t end up in jail, I’d have the mind to ask them what you exactly did there. A fake piercing, and fake stubble to look tougher? I’d be real curious to know where exactly a 14-year-old kid can buy a fake stubble.”

Tim was really doing his best to try and seem calm. If he didn’t everything would get much worse. Then it donned on him that he was treating his own dad like he would a master criminal in the middle of a breakdown. “Dad, I really know this looks bad. I really do. Trust me. But this isn’t at all like what it seems.”

“Answer me immediately: If I searched your room would I find drugs? Narcotics? Booze?”

Booze. Tim could smell the booze in his dad’s breath. If Tim showed up just a bit earlier it wouldn’t have been this bad. And you know Tim would beat himself up over that when he shouldn’t.

“No, you wouldn’t find anything of the sort. I need you to listen, I’m going to need you to let go of me, and put down the light. It’s hurting me.” Another half second passed where Tim’s brain suddenly tried to process this. And like someone running away from the scene, it hurt too bad to stay on it. “I don’t deal drugs...I--I stop people from selling drugs!” Even in a moment like this, not having to lie for once felt like a weight off of Tim’s shoulders.

The man standing above Tim was about to blind him with that flashlight, but he eventually dropped Tim down onto the wet and muddy grass below them. Where he left him lay and to get mud all over his clothes without any sense of regret. Jack could only think of his late wife. Which seemed rare ever since he got to know Dana better. Strangely, this Janet that Jack was remembering seemed to be a lot more on his side than anyone that knew them back then would remember.

“Don’t talk down to me.” said Jack in an uncomfortably soft voice. “I let you stay in my house because I loved you enough to let you. Your room is my property, everything in there was bought with my money.” The pace he spoke was slow and methodical. His mind was quiet and released. “I am going to look in your room. You’re going to stay here, and when I come back to you. I’ll decide then what’s going to happen to you.”

Should Tim speak? Should he not? What was better right then? When he heard Jack talk about his room, he wasn’t worried about the punishment he’d have to deal with. All he was worried about was any proof about being Robin. That wasn’t just Tim’s own secret to keep. It was a secret he had to share, and was honored to share.

“I--I can’t let you do that, sir.” another voice crack from the kid.

“I bet I know why.” spoke Jack with full eye contact. To him he wasn’t lying to himself. It was a fact he had to find the evidence for. “Let it be known by the way, that I don’t hate you. I’m scared for you. But you also make it awfully hard to love you lately.”

That was one hit Tim couldn’t dodge.

Being 3 AM not too many people were able to witness any of this happening, except for one particular neighbor in Alfred Pennyworth. He was tidying up around the side windows on the second floor when he could see some sort of commotion at the Drake residence. Using binoculars like a bird watcher that exclusively looks for Robins, he saw Tim on the ground and Tim’s dad above him. That wasn’t going to fly past anyone in Stately Wayne Manor.

Very quickly he let Bruce know that Tim needed help and why. It’d only take a few minutes for him to return to his home, but it felt crucial. Tim needed a father figure that felt like he’d protect him, and not vilify him. In no world is Batman the best for the job of dad, but he gave it his best unlike Jack.

Outside it was wet from the harsh rain earlier in the evening. Most of the lights in the neighbors were out, signifying they had gone to sleep. A foot felt like a yard when everything was so quiet and dark.

So though the owner of the manor wouldn’t exactly appreciate it, Alfred brought a small fire-arm in the inner pocket of his suit jacket just in case things went worse. Very quickly he rushed his way over to Tim, making it just after Jack entered the Drake residence again. Tim still seemed in such a shock that he didn’t even try to get himself up.

In his head, Tim meant to go after his dad, but his mental legs just gave out on him. Leaving him to sit in the mud as he panics about what could happen next. He recounted where all of his Robin stuff was. During his messy messy thoughts he was almost certain that it was all on, wearing it under his clothes. Confidence was never Tim’s highest attribute though. Normally it was his perceptiveness, but it was failing him. He was lucky he could still recognize Alfred.

“Alfred?” said a confused Tim who was dazed more and more as the night went on.

“Young Master Timothy, are you alright?” greeted the Butler as he helped Tim up to see his feet. “I didn’t see everything, but I saw everything I needed to.” He quickly noticed a bruise on Tim’s cheek. “Young sir, did he do this to you, or was it another person?”

“Who’s ‘he’?” Tim’s eyes widened and looked past Alfred. “Dad?”

Alfred may have been an older man, but he wasn’t a man you should bother trying to stand taller than. The quiet, noble man turned around promptly and stood his ground and he saw fit. Only reaching his hand in, just in case, with no intent on striking first. When Alfred turned around to see the returning Jack, there wasn’t any cowardice within him. Former British Secret Service agent Alfred Pennyworth could get the drop on anyone if he tried hard enough, besides those with powers. Tim’s dad wasn’t someone with powers, so Alfred had his number ready just in case.

Jack on the other hand only had a vague sense of right and wrong keeping him from hurting anyone. Just sick of the lies, and obvious sneaking around. Whoever thought Jack was a good dad never really saw enough of him.

“Who--Are you--are you Wayne’s butler? Did he call you?” Jack asked, pointing at Tim. “The kid’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s just being sensitive.”

“Jack Drake, I want to let you know that I am not a blind man, nor an easily fooled man. And that all I see when I look into the eye’s a man such as you, that all I see is an inner-pain that I’ve seen nearly everyday since my eyes could first see, and my mind could first retain thought. All you do is feel bitter, distract yourself, and in the moments where you can’t, you take it out on everyone else. If I look at the ground behind me, I can see a very brave boy have a fear so bad that he didn’t even want to get out of the mud. Either meaning he’s about to be killed, or he’s being traumatized, and I don’t see a gun in your hand. So sit down and get some rest, and think about it. While I’ll take young Timothy with me where he’ll be safe for the night, sir.”

“You know I’m not going to let you do that.” growled Jack.

“Then allow me to let you know that in my inner jacket pocket I have a firearm that you know I’ll use. Not to aim at your head, but below the waist where, if you don’t already know, it won’t count for attempted murder.”

“I’ll call the cops on you then, you bum. You’ve freeloaded on Wayne before that man could walk. To this city you’re nobody but the guy that used to wipe Wayne’s ass.”

“I’m mighty gracious I don’t have any worry of convincing you of anything. The reputation I actually do have serves me enough just fine. As for...your reckless statement on the police, I should let you know we have cameras showing everything that happened. You wouldn’t be the one winning in court.” Alfred didn’t look pleased when he took another glance at Tim who was struggling to process any of this. Alfred was there in the same home Tim was in when he found out his mother died. This wasn’t something Alfred enjoyed doing. “You can come with me now, Timothy. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Surprisingly, Jack let them walk away. Jack wasn’t an evil man. But not being evil doesn’t equal being good. Life was just complicated, and so was he. Did he regret his actions? Well, he isn’t a monster. Of course he did--Well, maybe he did. Who really freaking knew. But did he know why exactly he did if he had? Not quite. Was he going to get better? There was going to be a while before that’d happen.

Inside Tim’s own heart he felt dead. The remains of his biological family seemed to break down into crumbs of dust. Where was home anymore? Jack didn’t say he wasn’t allowed to come back home, but the message was made plenty clear that he couldn’t go back home easily. Actually, Tim didn't know if he wanted to go home after that. Even for such a great detective, Tim had no clue what his dad was going to be like after that.

Mud. Ew, the mud. It was all over Tim’s clothes and hands from his fall. It certainly wasn’t going to help Tim’s mood.

“Young Master Timothy, I think it’d be in your best interest to get a bath and relax. You can give me your clothes for me to wash, and I’m sure we have some of your clothes around here somewhere for you to lay around in.” he stated as he opened the door to Stately Wayne Manor for Tim.

Tim barely said any words, and said none of all during the walk to the Manor. “Oh, okay, Alfie.” Even his tone of voice seemed down on himself.

Seeing Tim so frozen stiff over it was breaking Alfred’s heart bit by bit. He’s seen Tim shake in fear, he’s seen him panic, but never frozen. This really was different. It was obvious it would be, but seeing it in person is always a different feeling. As they went up stairs you wouldn’t know Tim was an athlete. Alfred saw how natural Tim was at acrobatics in front of his own eyes, and now he saw the young boy struggling going up stairs.

Batman wasn’t able to make it till after Tim was in the bath. So he’d have to wait a bit to speak with him. He took off his cowl and how upset he was, was immediately evident. He had a stubble covered frown, and was breathing heavily, which was odd since he came home in the Batwing. As someone who stops domestic disturbances like this when he has to, he was fuming.

“We have to do something about Jack Drake, Alfred.” said Bruce drinking the tea Alfred gave them, as they waited for Tim in the kitchen.

“Something involving the courts may I assume?” assumed Alfred.

Bruce shook his head. “No. At least not yet, unfortunately.”

“Sir, but we have the evidence. There’s no doubt we’d win.”

“He’s still Tim’s father. That means something, and is a bond that’s hard to break, and shouldn’t be broken.”

“If I was only a second or two late, I would say it’s accurate to assume Mister Jack Drake was going to strike Timothy. He reeked of liquor and tossed him onto the ground.”

“But he didn’t hit him. Sounding harsh isn’t my imperative. But accusing a child of doing something they didn’t do, wouldn’t classify as anything that’d allow Tim to leave. And again, Tim and Jack are family. We shouldn’t break a family. That isn’t a good goal to set.”

“Are you really defending a man that didn’t bother to raise his own son, that he threatened with boarding school over something he should be more sympathetic with, and berates him when Tim actually acts his own age? People can change, Master Wayne, but when people are constantly given chances, those chances should run out eventually.”

“What would you suggest, Alfred? I’m doing what's best for Tim in my eyes. If we took him from his dad he’d hate us forever. Once Tim is able to function properly again, he’ll just look at it like another incident in his life. He’ll want to go back whether he wants to or not, because in his heart he loves his father.”

“Please forgive me for what I’m about to say, Master Wayne. But your over glorification of genetic parents because of the death of your own seems to have left you forgetting that whether biological or not, your family isn’t truly who’s related to you by blood.” Alfred sighed having to speak in such a rough way. “You’ve brought in Master Grayson as your ward, and Master Todd as your son. Family is who you bring in close and who you choose to stay with, and if you all care for one another. Sir, you know this best. And I’m not forgetful that they had no parents left when you brought them in, but don’t forget that just because they live right beside your home that damage isn’t being done to a child.”

The chair Bruce was sitting on squeaked as he moved back to stand up. He made his way up the stairs to where Tim was getting a bath. He took a deep breath, and took a moment to consider his actions, and knocked on the door.

“Tim--Tim are you decent? I’d like to speak to you about what happened. Now, it doesn’t have to be right this moment. Take any moment you need. But we need to know if--”

In a quick unhesitating moment, the door opened, and Tim never looked smaller to Bruce. The vulnerable look in his eye mixed with the oversized sweater he had on. The kid was still damp from a poor job drying himself, but it didn’t stop him from leaping at Bruce and putting his arms around him for a hug. Tim rested his head on Bruce’s chest as it was the highest he could reach, and he squeezed as hard as he could. A slight tear went down Tim’s face. Did he hear Alfred and Bruce? In the moment it didn’t matter, and Bruce hugged him back in a fatherly embrace. Neither of them knew what to do.

As the hug continued on longer Bruce lifted Tim into the air in a similar matter as Jack and Tim as Tim went to make sure they were okay during No Man’s Land. Would Tim remember that and choose to stay with Jack? Did Tim still believe Jack would get better? Or would Bruce’s rare act of physical affection convince Tim to tell everything he knew to make a case to stay with Bruce? Did it even matter yet?

It felt like a part of Tim’s life died, but as an era of your life is killed, another is born. Something new you have to make the best out of. Maybe the era will stay and it’ll get better, or maybe not. The future was a mystery, and could be scary. If it wasn’t then people wouldn’t be pretending to be fortune tellers. Sometimes though, it’s best just to remember and focus on the present.

“I love you, R--um, Tim. I hope you know this. I care about you, and want to protect you for as long as I can, and if needed I’m absolutely willing to--” Bruce was cut off by a still tearful Tim.

“I love you too, Bruce.”

#Tim Drake #Robin #Alfred Pennyworth #Jack Drake #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Fan fics #Fan fictions

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miss-nov · 3 years

Text

Over-Emotional: Danny Phantom Oneshot.

Original idea by @amabsis on their post right here!!

[Originally written on a reblog of the prompt but it went all screwy and left an incomplete version so I made it it's own post and I've made a few grammar and spelling edits. Sorry for any confusion!!]

(This is the first thing I've ever written for the DP Phandom so I apologize if it's a little OOC)

⚠️(TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK AND GORE!!!!!)⚠️

Danny drifted through the skies of Amity Park, following the streets which were slick with recent rain. The stars twinkled merrily above and the beams from the street lights seemed to buzz through the comforting, crisp air. Not a sound disrupted the mellow atmosphere and ghosts had appeared to leave tonight alone and retired to their lairs. A soothing night such as this would have been Danny's favorite; it would have been a much needed break from his overly stressful life.

Yet Danny couldn't shake off the creeping apprehension even as he twisted in and out of alleyways back into the lit roads.

His parents had been working tirelessly on a project that they wouldn't tell him and Jazz about. Jack, their father, would always jump at the chance to describe what he was doing and couldn't keep his antics quiet for long. Maddie's, their mother, eyes would have brightened as she recounted the innovate idea she had conjured and the necessary calculations she could toy around with. These facts coupled with Jazz and Danny casually inquiring about their latest project would make them incredibly ecstatic.

But whenever the two had asked about it, put off by the unusual quiet of the parents, had only been given an amused smile and an occasional wink.

Tonight, before Danny's patrol and during dinner, Jazz had managed to weasel some information out of them. Though, it left more questions than answers.

"So, you guys have been in the lab a lot recently," Jazz said conversationally. "Working on some new ghost stuff? It seems important if you're spending most of the day down there."

Maddie had given her a deliberate look like someone who'd finally decided to take a second cookie.

"It's our greatest invention yet," she said lowly and excitedly. "I think your dad and I have found the solution to our little ghost problem."

The siblings gulped and tried to suppress their shudders.

"It's not going to hurt them is it? Phantom and the other ghosts." Jazz's voice was even and didn't show a hint of a tone shift.

"Surprisingly, no. No harm will be dealt to them. It's not like they can feel anyway. That's exactly the problem," Jack chimed excitedly before going back to his ectoplasm contaminated lasagna.

"Besides, we wouldn't want to hurt the object of our daughter's affection. We all know about your crush on Phantom," Maddie teased but then added with a small frown. "Though it's not healthy to have a crush on ghosts at all."

Jazz gave an aggressive gagging noise and Danny was torn between hysterical laughter and a gag of his own. Dinner resumed as normal —well, as normal as you could get being a Fenton— and Danny took note of the fact his parents had refused to say anymore.

Danny was busy going over and dissecting the conversation and lax in his attention to his surroundings by the inactivity that he didn't notice the two shadow-cloaked figures tailing him. The taller one with a broader build was holding an intimidating gun, that looked like it was straight out of an eighties sci-fi movie, on his back.

Maybe I should head back, Danny thought to himself. I have so much homework due and a test tomorrow. A pop quiz in calculus and a lab in science. I have to meet Nathan at my study hall period and at lunch. Liz needs my help…

On and on the list went as Danny subtlety started flying home. Just thinking of things that needed done was making him more anxious and tired.

"Phantom, we'll have you now," Jack cried, his voice echoing in the hollow streets.

Danny turned around, slightly aggravated when he was struck by a violet beam and plummeted, crashing to the sidewalk.

"Jack! I told you to wait," Maddie chastised as they walked over to Danny who had barely sat up.

His head swam and Maddie and Jack looked like the reflections of a carnival fun house mirror. Though his vision corrected itself quickly.

"I think you might have given him a concussion. But that doesn't make sense, ghosts don't have brains," Maddie said, slightly confused. She reached out to gingerly place her fingertips on Danny's temple and he flinched.

"Don't touch me!!" Danny had yelled louder then he meant to and his voice came out with an extra echo; like he had been about to use his ghostly wail. The three stilled before Danny began crawling backwards, keeping his eyes on Jack and Maddie at all times.

"I don't wanna hurt you," Danny whimpered and tears sprang to eyes like a line of men ready to battle. Why the hell was he crying!? He didn't cry easy, at least not of late, and he'd been in these situations and worse without crying so why was he breaking down now??

Maddie looked at him with wide eyes and her hand, which had still been suspended in shock, dropped to her belt and Danny panicked.

"Don't hurt me!" Danny tried to pick himself up to fly, to get the hell out of dodge but when he went to stand his vision and black an —god why were his veins burning with adrenaline???

Danny's chest was caving, that was the only explanation as his ribs seized and threatened to crush his lungs. His heart had left its place and sprinted from the back of his throat down to right beneath his collarbone before starting all over again. Has his hands always been this sweaty??? Tremors wracked through his limbs —he couldn't deal with this now!! He needed to finish his Hamlet essay, and review his history notes, and hadn't Liz asked him to buy popsicle sticks for their art project??? That's what he had forgotten!! He can't think of this now!! Maddie and Jack could easily catch him now —but oh, God was he screwed when —if— when he went to school the next day.

"Phantom, you're having a panic attack," Maddie said calmly.

"No, shit there, Sherlock." Danny bit his bottom lip to prevent another scathing comment from escaping. Usually he had better control of his mouth believe it or not. He put his head between his knees, closing his eyes and trying to focus on, well, nothing. He felt tears slip from his eyes and barely stopped himself from screaming.

"You know what a panic attack is?" Jack titled his head as he scanned over his shaking form.

"Jack did you put the settings up too high while we were following him?"

"Of course not! I was very careful not to bounce anything out of place. You've Done the math, four times, it should be perfectly calibrated." Jack twisted the purple and silver metallic gun in his hands, giving it a thorough look over.

"What the fuck are you two talking about!!" The scientists' head whipped back to see Danny's eyes glowing a tad brighter than before and his mouth transfixed into a snarl. Maddie slid a careful hand to her holster.

"Our newest invention. Ghosts, well most of them, are just whispers of feelings that people once had. They can't actually feel and so they do bad things or... or they mimic human behaviors really well to make it seem like they do, like they're human." Maddie's voice trailed off at the end as if seeing if he would explode.

Danny felt that normally he would have but he started to hyperventilate. How was he going to reverse it??? Was there even a way to do so or did they not include a reverse button by mistake (on purpose?) like they had mistakenly put the 'on' button inside the portal??

"We're going to take you to the lab. Check your... concussion and to stabilize your mood. Run a few tests..."

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodoh—

They would strap him down and cut and lay his chest open like a butterfly steak and their hungry eyes would roam over him and their hands would devour him by pulling at his nerve endings and removing his organs and Danny would scream until his voice was hoarse and then some like a helpless lamb. Would he bleed blood or ectoplasm when they drained him? Would they take turns as he bleed out?? Or would they flow out together like some sort of demented, holiday dinner?? Or—

"Phantom! You need to calm down." Maddie was at his side (when had she gotten there?) and was squeezing his hand. Danny briefly noted her eyes were filled with worry as her goggles hung at her neck. "Just breathe with me okay, please."

"Breathe with her, buddy" Jack, who sat on the other side of Danny, whispered as he gently rubbed circles on the boy's lower back. "It's gonna be okay. We aren't going to hurt you."

Danny wanted to say a smart aleck remark about them not having the same sentiment five minutes ago but instead focused on his breathing. He faced his head skyward and tried to count the stars. Nothing but him and the stars, no home— just the stars.

Danny was reminded of the time he went stargazing with the rest of his family. A rare occasion as Maddie and Jack seemed to always be working. They had smiled so big at him as he pointed out constellations, awestruck. Jazz had nodded along as she listened attentively with a smile of her own. The night hadn't been more clear in months and more stars then usually were out. The picnic blanket they laid on was soft and him and Jazz had rested in between their parents and God they had been so happy then—

Danny let out an involuntary sob. The melancholy seemed to come from the depths of his chest but at least it seemed to push out the panic.

"Phantom," Maddie asked as she huddled closer to him. Phantom, not Danny. It hadn't really bothered him before; they didn't know it was him so why would they call him by his name?

But it still made him cry harder. He wanted to tell them. He wanted to so, so bad.

Jazz had urged him to tell them. But Danny had always been afraid. Scared that they wouldn't want him anymore.

Now the sadness had overwhelmed the fear and the panic. He felt so isolated even when his parents were next to him, right there, trying to coax him into being calm. He had to tell them. He had to do it now because he wouldn't be this impulsive again.

He felt the white rings gloss over him and heard Jack yell out "Phantom". When it was over he heard them gasp.

"D-Danny," Maddie choked out.

"I'm so sorry," Danny said through his tears. He chanted it over and over again as his parents reassured him that he had nothing to be sorry for and that they should apologize.

The three sat there for quite some time, huddled close and crying together.

Soon they would head home and take care of Danny's quickly healing concussion and reverse the effects of the gun. They would ask questions tomorrow after school but, for now, they tucked him into bed, something they hadn't done since he was eleven, and gave him their good night kisses on his temple before creeping to their room unaware of Jazz watching them from her bedroom door. She would text Sam and Tucker an explanation and ask them to give Danny the answers to the homework in the morning. She slipped into bed and fell asleep.

The streets were barely slick with rain anymore. The stars twinkled merrily and the street lights buzzed. The crisp, cool air was calm and mellow. The night soothing and the Fentons were a family once again.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #danny phantom prompt #danny phantom prompt fill #danny phantom oneshot #danny phantom fic #prompt fic #prompt fill #prompt oneshot

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innocent-chris-evans-slut · 4 years

Text

The Assistant - Part Five

My Masterlist ✨

Series: The Assistant - Part Five

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Word Count: 3.3k

Type: angst

Summary: Y/N is Ransom Dysdale’s assistant. She’s the closest person to him and spends everyday with him at his house. Usually she gets in at nine o’clock and makes sure everything is perfect. One day he doesn’t want to get up and Y/N goes in his room. She finds a surprise.

Warning(s): some swearing, Ransom being an asshole

You wanted to let Ransom come in. You couldn’t lie to yourself; since the moment he had told you would have joined him on his business trip, you first thought was that he would have dragged you in his room and -to be honest- you quite liked the idea.

All the things you’d thought he would have done to you. Maybe Ransom would have forced you to bed all day long and you wouldn’t have fought it.

What Ransom Drysdale wanted; Ransom Drysdale obtained.

You couldn’t deny it, you started feeling something for him. You didn’t want to label it -because, for sure, you would have label it as ‘love’.

You had never experienced anything like that. Your body was aware every time Ransom was in the same room as yours; your cheeks would heat, a shiver would go down your spine, and your knees would cave in. Then there was another part of your body which would be aware of his presence in a crowded room: your core. Your clit would throb, and your slips would be wet just at his first glance.

The day after you got up early in the morning, remembering that the last part of your thesis was to be written and after that you would be able to send it to your Professor. And you thought you could have finished it before going back to Boston -maybe check the form and the grammar once on the plane.

At ten in the morning you were dressed and ready to knock on Ransom’s room’s door, yet none -on inside the room- answered you. You stayed there, uncertain about what to do. Should you have called him, or not? It was your boss and you had to be sure where he was; on the other hand, Ransom was a grown man and he could take care of himself.

Still reluctant, you walked away and reached the bar at the first floor of the hotel. There you met James Barnes, drinking coffee and reading the first page of the newspaper, “Good morning”, he smiled at you and offered you a cup of coffee like his.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes”, you left sugar fall into your cup and placed it back on the counter once it was enough, “How are you?” you clearly didn’t know what to say to him, yet you didn’t want to stay silent.

“Pretty good. How was your night?” he closed the paper and turned completely to you, his piercing blue eyes on you. Yet they weren’t like his, you loved his eyes.

“The mattress is really comfortable. Nothing compared to my bed in Boston”, you took a long drink of coffee and felt caffeine running into your veins, definitely waking you up. “If I can ask, where’s your assistant?” it wasn’t something like her to leave Barnes alone at the bar.

“I don’t know. She wasn’t in her room this morning.”

Funny, you though, Ransom wasn’t-

And, as if someone had stabbed you right into your chest, the realization hit you violently. You set your coffee down on the counter and tried not to choke on your own saliva.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Barnes tried his best to help you, yet he didn’t know why -all of a sudden- you became pale, as if you’d seen a ghost, “I really don’t want- Are you fucking kidding me?” he made sure you were okay, before approaching someone behind your back.

You turned and you were stabbed another time: in front of you there were Ransom -your Ransom- and Jenny entering the dining room with a huge smile on their faces.

Barnes was in front of them before you could and, judging by his hands closed in fists and his grinded teeth, he wasn’t less happy than you to see them.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Drysdale? My assistant?”

The entire room was now paying attention the group right next the entrance. You jumped down the stool and approached them, in the meantime apologizing for the noises, “Mr. Barnes, Mr. Drysdale, I would be better to discuss outside”, you pushed them out of the dining room and led them to the less crowded area in the hotel’s garden.

“I’m gonna ask this only once”, Barnes’ whole attention is on his assistant. Only her. “Were you with him the entire night?”

Jenny shared a look with Ransom, who had become the most horrifying human being at your eyes, “Yes”, she didn’t even flinch when Barnes’ fist crushed on his friend’s jaw. She screamed, while you got between them, desperately trying to separate them.

“James! Ransom! Stop!” though you were much less strong than them, you pushed Mr. Barnes to a side and Ransom to another, finally making them stop.

“Get out of here!”, the man with long brown hair yelled in the middle of the corridor, “I don’t wanna see you ever again!”

Ransom was about to reply when you yanked him, motioning with your eyes to get back to his room. The last thing you wanted was a picture of Ransom punching his best friend in Miami. When you finally got him walking to the elevator, you glanced over Barnes, making sure he was okay.

“Take him back home”, was the only thing he said to you, before disappearing behind the doors of the dining room.

Once he had closed the door of his room behind his back, Ransom started cursing and throwing everything away. First of all, the sheets on his bed, on the floor one second later he had entered the bedroom, soon followed by pillows, couch’s cushions and other covers from the wardrobe. Not happy with the mess, he threw his suitcase out the closet and filled it up with all his clothes.

“Fucking Barnes and fucking Jeanie, Jimmy or whatever her name is”, a bottle of Whiskey crushed on the wall and the liquid inside of it poured on the wall and on the white carpet on the floor, “Her and her stupid boss. How dar-“

The door of his room opened, revealing you behind it, “Mr. Drysdale, the plane will leave in a coupl- What the hell happened here?” you had a quick look around the room and it seemed like you had to hand a couple of thousand dollars to the receptionist on turn, “What did you do?”

Ransom turned towards you, an angry look on his face, “Of all people you come here, teaching me a fucking lesson”, he approached you with a killing glare, “Guess what? You can’t. You’re my fucking assistant and your job is to make sure my plane is ready in an hour. Nothing more”, having said that, Ransom got rid of his shirt and headed to the bathroom, closing the door with a loud noise.

When he was out of your sight you sat down on his undone bed and recollected all the things he had thrown away. You put his clothes in his suitcases and tried to tidy the room up -with mediocre results. Once the room had been cleaned enough, you sat at the table, waiting for your boss to show up.

Since that moment Ransom Drysdale was no more than your boss. Everything that had happened between the two of you was nothing and it clearly had no importance for him, or else he wouldn’t have ‘cheated’ on you with Jenny. But could you really talk about cheating? In fact nothing was going on between you and, evidently he didn’t feel the same about you. No butterflies in the stomach when he saw you, no feeling of breathtaking when he saw you entering his office.

Nothing like that.

Nothing like how you felt being around him. From your point of view, butterflies had taken residency in your stomach since last month. Your knees would melt every time Ransom looked at you, just like your heart every time he commented your outfits, every time he decided to grab dinner, or lunch with you, instead of calling the service in his room. And then there was your skin, which would burn every time Ransom brushed against you, touched you, or simply looked at you with eyes full of lust.

You were falling hard for Ransom Drysdale -you knew it- and you couldn’t help it.

Nothing more than foreplays had happened between you and Ransom. Or better, something could have happened, if only he didn’t decide to fuck everything up the night before.

With Jenny.

When you let out a sob, you realized you were crying, so you wrote a note to Ransom, telling him you were in your room packing up, which wasn’t a lie since you really had to pack and you still were at a dead point.

Ransom heard you leaving, he heard the door being shut by you and he closed the stream of water in the shower. Of course, he wasn’t, he was just waiting for you to get out of his room so that he was free to get outside without having to look you in your eyes.

Your empty eyes.

Ransom Drysdale was an asshole, yet he still could recognize his feelings and he really didn’t like what his heart said about you. It would beat so fast every time he was around you and he certainly didn’t like how much he quivered every time you were around him. It was so strange for him to experience some kinds of feelings -feeling he had never experienced before you’d come in his life. You brought him back to his childhood, with your scent of berries and wood. Quite an odd mix, though it reminded him of his childhood -entirely spent with his grandfather at his manor. It recalled at his memory the moments he had spent with his family, when he believed that actually someone cared about him. Growing up Ransom discovered that none of his parents -or relatives- took care of him and as time passed, he became what he was at that moment.

A perfect asshole who could have done the biggest mistake of his life.

You barely stand out a word on the plane, back to Boston. The flight took three hours and a half to land in Massachusetts; you worked on your thesis the entire time, finally finishing it up. Once at home you would have been able to edit it and eventually delivering to your Professor.

You kept yourself far away from your boss, avoiding eye contact and talking to him only if strictly necessary. You saw as he smiled at the flight attendant, who had offered him a drink, or at the pilot, who showed him the route before the take-off. Yet when it came to look at you, his eyes were empty, no emotion showed and definitely he hadn’t talked to you until the plane landed in Boston.

“I’ll wait in the car”, as soon as his feet touched the ground, Ransom literally walked away from you, still near the flight assistants waiting for your luggage and making sure the right ones were delivered to you in the late afternoon.

You thanked those you had flight with and greet them. Not knowing that would be your last time flying with them.

Once in the car, you found Ransom wearing his sunglasses, which was strange considered that he hated having them on in enclosed spaces -especially narrow spaces. But you didn’t say anything, too scared of his reaction or just too scared to be ignored by the man, you had acknowledged, you were falling for.

The ride home, just like the entire flight, was silent. The only noises in the car were made by your breaths, which to the both of you seemed too heavy. You heard Ransom clearing his throat more than once; you pretended it’d never happened and kept your eyes on the road.

Then he decided to talk: “I’d like you to sit in the front seats from next time”, he turned to you and added: “Actually there won’t be another time. You’re fired”.

Just like your heart in the moment, the car stopped its ride in front of Ransom’s house and the driver got out of it -as if he was leaving you two to discuss the bomb your boss had just dropped.

“Excuse me?” you tuned your body completely towards him, shocked by his words, “Did I miss something? Or are you out of your mind?” and you were certain it was the second one. Until he confirmed you that he was firing you.

“As a king would say: your services are no longer needed. You’re free to go”, he made a quick movement with his hand and in a matter of seconds he was out of the car, heading to the front door of his house.

“What?” you mumbled to yourself, still alone in the car. The you got out of it and followed your boss -or former boss- inside his house. “What?!” you shouted in the empty and silent house. Your voice echoed between the walls, “Do you think it is that simple to throw me out of your house, and life?”

“Actually”, Ransom turned towards you as he untightened the blue tie around his neck, “Yes, it is”, he threw his phone on the couch and sat down, “Now, grab all your belongings and get out of my house”.

You stood there, in silence, as you watched him getting rid of you as if you were an old piece of furniture, “Why are you doing this?” it came out as no more than a whisper but in the empty house Ransom heard it as if you’d yelled it.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you. Put your things away and get the fuck out of my house”, his voice is calm. Dead calm. Too calm for Ransom Drysdale. You couldn’t see it. None could. But Ransom was holding back his tears, he just hoped you would get out of there in the next two minutes, otherwise he would have forced you to. “Get out.”

“No. Look me in the eyes and tell me why you’re firing me”, you imitated his tone, standing erect in front of him -blocking his view on the TV. “Tell me, Ransom!”

“’Cause you’re not as good as you think you are. ‘Cause you’re nothing special. Y/N Y/L/N you are replaceable, just like everyone else”, Ransom got up and approached you, towering over your tiny figure, “Yet, where’s the problem? Today or in a week, does it change anything for you?”

And in that precise moment you understand. Everything is clearer at your eyes.

“H-how did you-“

“How did I find your letter of resignation? You know, keep it in a drawer in my office wasn’t your brightest idea.”

You couldn’t say anything. He was right.

When you first had written that letter, you hoped you’d never drop it on his desk, that maybe you’d continue being his assistant for ever. Though the thought of getting out of that house had crossed your mind more than once in the last months. You began to worry a couple of weeks back; “how do I tell him that I’m leaving?” “how can I sugarcoat it?”. All of a sudden, all your worries faded away and you were in front of Ransom, who was waiting for you to tell anything.

He really hoped you would say something, maybe even tie yourself in his house, to the couch, or chair, or desk. He wasn’t strong enough to keep you there, to prevent you from step out of his door, to tell you to stay there and hold him.

Hold him.

For the first time in years he admitted he needed someone. And that someone was you.

Yet he wasn’t brave enough to admit it out loud, not brave enough to grab you and force you to stay with him.

Maybe she understands, he thought, but you didn’t.

You were empty, neither an emotion crossed your face as you stayed there, on your feet, your arms rested at both sides of your body and you stared at him, your eyes cold like a stone can be, “So…that’s how it is gonna end? With you kicking me out?” you grabbed your bag and put it over your shoulder, “That’s fine, if it’s what you want”. You were on your way to the door, one hand on the handle when you turned around to face him, “You know what? If this is the last time I’ll ever see you, I’m gonna say a few things”. You completely turned towards his and kept going: “Probably you haven’t read the letter. Actually, I’m pretty sure of it. But I ask- no, I want you to read it once I’ll be gone”, you swallowed the knot in your throat and fought the tears which were about to run down your cheeks, “You’re a coward, Ransom Drysdale. The biggest coward I’ve ever met. You think you are an asshole and everything. The truth is that you’re afraid of risking in your life. You’ll lose everyone. You will lose the one you care about and those who care about you. Those who love you. Those who would do anything for you. Ransom Drysdale you’re weak. Once I’ll be outside, I’ll never come back”.

Having said that, you opened the door and rushed outside. Before jumping in your car, you looked over your shoulder and for the first time ever since the day you met him, you saw a vulnerable Ransom Drysdale, through the window. He got rid of his sunglasses and that was the moment in which you saw the built, strong man crying.

The teenage girl inside you -the one who dreamt about a fairytale for years- wanted to get back inside, hug him and tell him you weren’t going anywhere without him. It was your heart talking. Your mind, instead, was telling you to run away from there as soon as possible. And you did it. Without thinking about it twice.

You were running away from Ransom and, unconsciously, from the only person you loved and cared about you.

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eremiie · 3 years

Note

Hey! I’m one of your new readers/followers and I can say I almost read all your post/fics, they’re so good- by far you are my favorite writer! Please keep writing, it really suits you, I love how you make your own realites with the characters :)

I know you aren’t doing Matchups right now, but this is for more later when you start them again, (Take your time, there is no pressure)

This is a bit of a description of myself.

I am 5’0, quite petite, a mix of hourglass and pear shape body, my breast are just in between of an a and b cup if it makes sense, I would say my bottom is decent LMAO, my hair is ebony black that reaches 3 inches past my shoulders, it’s sort-of has capes is that’s what it’s called- I’m hispanic with pale like skin, my lips are pinkish and medium sized, I have long lashes, and a small/medium nose.

My zodaic is Aries, Aries sun, and my Leo moon. My personality type is also INFJ-T.

My personality is kimda confusing but I make it work- Im very affectionate with people I habe deep and close bonds, I don’t really like telling random people about my trauma or past events nor my feelings but I do definitely try and help others if they need someone to talk to. I have a really serious rbf which kinda gets in between people thinking I’m looking at them in a bad way- I have an “I dont care” personality because sometimes I really dont care but most of the time I do I just have no way of really showing it, I get random outbursts of energy at some times, I also like making my close friends feel special and I try my best to show them my gratitude and my love for them, I have a bipolar disorder that also gets in between me and my close friends, at some points I feel like getting bored of them and even feel like ghosting them, and I feel a need to start arguments with everyone, but I try my best to prevent from that happening :) Some good traits of mine are that I care a lot for others, I try and help people when they need help, I don’t pressure people into situations or into things they don’t want to do, I give really good advice, I sometimes learn from my mistakes and know how to fix them in the future// Some bas traits, half the time I always know I’m right and I brag about it, my past mistakes and failures still stay in my head even if it happened years ago, I sometimes hurt people’s feelings on purpose or on accident, at times depending how I feel I won’t really care about anyone around me only myself, I always want to put up a fight to prove my intelligence and strength, I lie but I’ve realized I do it to leep myself balanced and my reputation with others, other than that I lie just for my enjoyment because I find it funny when people believe me, but I use it to my advantages. I take time to see what people like in others so I can do the complete opposite so they wouldn’t want to be friends with me, I don’t want to end up hurting them with my brutal words, I try my best to keep my circle small.

My love language is touch and gratitude, I love to remind close people of mine how much they matter to me and that I’ll always be here even if we don’t feel the same for eachother, I will still be here to make them feel wanted and special. If I had a partner to show me a love language, it would probably be anything they want, I’m a people pleaser, I wouldn’t judge them for how they show their love towards me, if it’s harsh, cringy, or just not showing enough, I wouldn’t really care as long as I remind them they matter a lot to me.

Some of my hobbies are running, going on adventures/places, hanging out with a small group of friends (I’m really extroverted I just don’t like interacting with others, I find everyone annoying.)cooking, cleaning, a lot of cleaning, I just dont like having a messy place, it makes me feel uneasy and lazy, I also like competing/competitions.

Some turn offs are when people lie, it’s so easy for me to tell and it gives me second hand embarrassment, another is being a little too clingy or a pick me person, acting like a baby, such as saying “pweese” or crying about EVERYTHING.//Some turn ons for me are when people remember the small details of me and in the things I like, when they take me places, often remind me how much they’re happy to be with me, letting me work on my own problems if I want to, keepinng up with me, being patient with me, putting up with my bs, insulting me, I know it’s kinda weird but I find it nice, good spelling and grammar, I don’t know I just find it attractive- not judging the type of person I am, arguing with me, <—-I really love arguing and even more if it’s with my partner.

Sorry if that’s tmi, I just wanted to make it easy for you to get to know me, again take your time! I really love your writing style and your page :)

hi thank you so much!!! i appreciate that you enjoy my work so much <333

but can you copy and paste this into your notes or somewhere where you can send it again for another time because having to sit it in my inbox takes up inbox space, tysm!! (plus matchups won’t be open again for a while, i hope you don’t mind)

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mrsamaroevans · 4 years

Text

Finally Free

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female Reader.

Words: 3,839.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual assault, murder. Please, don’t read if you’re too sensible to these subjects.

A/N: It took me three days to write it because even if it’s not too explicit, I needed to let my brain rest from this narrative. Also, English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor. *Gif is not mine*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

|| PROMPTS LIST TO REQUEST ||

“Should I be jealous?” Angel asked when he saw that your attention was in a man a few meters away from your table.

You didn’t even know how much time you’ve been watching him, but it was like your brain didn’t give orders to your eyes to look away, like, Angel was in front of you after two weeks of being away with the club.

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head, trying to take all the bad memories aside.

“What happens?” Angel took your hand and looked back to the man you were seeing “Amor… I know that look in your face, you have it and then I lose you for days”

Angel was right, but you couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t something you could fight against for, you knew it ‘cause you’ve been trying for the past twelve years.

You tried everything; meditation, going to therapy, books, music, painting, working out, baking, boxing… but nothing seemed to work. You kept going back to that event that changed your life forever.

“I think I’m seeing ghosts,” you told him and quickly added “But, never mind… what are you gonna order?” You tried to change the subject ‘cause you didn’t want to make it a big deal, and, you didn’t want to lose yourself now that Angel came back. You had missed him so much.

“Well, I’m taking an espresso ‘cause I didn’t sleep all night and I need energy when I get you home” he winked at you and you just laughed, looking down at your menu when you felt your cheeks getting warm.

You’ve been dating Angel for two years and he still managed to make you feel nervous with the simplest thing, and he loved that.

You made all your effort to keep your attention in Angel and in the end, you made it. You had an amazing time at the cafeteria just like ninety-nine percent of the time you’re with him.

“You’re telling me what’s going on?” Angel insisted once your gaze got lost in the same direction. He took your hand and that’s when you looked at him.

“Nothing’s happening,” You said, half-smiling “I’m fine… actually, I think I want to go home now”

If Angel didn’t want you to be mad at him, he knew he had to push that subject aside until you wanted to talk about it, so, he swallowed and smirked at your words, he took out his wallet and placed some dollars in the table, took your hand and led you out the cafeteria.

As you walked outside, you tried not to look to the person who caught your attention earlier, but you couldn’t, and, the worst thing was that he looked back at you.

You felt fear, you felt embarrassment, and a giant need to throw up when he dared to smile and wink at you.

Your arm ended in Angel’s waist, trying to be closer to him ‘cause that way, you felt safe. He, placed his arm on your shoulders in response until you got to his motorbike.

The air hitting your face made you feel better, you even almost forgot the feelings you had in the cafeteria and as your chin rested in Angel’s shoulder, all those memories of your past vanished away.

The first thing Angel did just you both crossed the door of the apartment you shared, was to pull you against the wall to kiss you properly ‘cause earlier he didn’t have the chance. You smiled and kissed him back two seconds after, your arms around his neck and his on your waist, allowing you to be closer to each other.

“I love these jeans” Angel said, taking his lips lower to your neck as his hands to your ass.

“I know” At that point in your relationship, you knew each other pretty well. Angel knew you, even more than you know yourself and vice versa.

You walked backward to your shared bedroom and once there, you helped each other to get rid of your clothes in record time. You pressed your body against his, feeling how warm he was and just to realize once again, how much you had missed him.

“Can we leave the foreplay for later?” Angel asked, his lips were on your shoulder “Te necesito ahora [I need you now]”

You chuckled but nodded.

You laid on bed and Angel got on top of you quickly. You smiled when he looked in your eyes and leaned to captured your lips.

“God, I love you,” Angel said once he pushed inside of you and kissed you again.

But suddenly, all the pleasure disappeared.

Suddenly, Angel’s lips were not the ones kissing you, his hands were not the ones touching your body and he wasn’t the one between your legs. Everything went back to you; his smell, the way he squeezed your body, the way your cheek burned after he slapped you, and the way he was fighting with you to keep your legs open. The sound of your clothes when he was ripping them from you, the sounds he was making, and your crying.

“No, stop it!”

Angel pulled back when you hit his chest, his eyes were wide open for the surprise. He looked at your face, trying to figure out what did he do wrong, but you started crying and that’s when he freaked out.

“Amor… amor, what’s wrong?” He asked, but you pushed him away to curl up on your side of the bed “Amor…”

“Don’t touch me!” You asked him, trying to cover your body as best as you could “Don’t… it’s enough…”

Angel’s eyes filled with tears because he didn’t understand why you were saying those words, you didn’t sound like you and the situation was turning scary to him, ‘cause he didn’t know what to do or how to help you.

“I want Coco… I want to talk to Coco” you sobbed.

“You can talk to me; you know that…”

“No! I want Coco!” You cried even more so, Angel stood up to look for his phone.

You met Angel through Coco.

Celia was a friend of your mother and when both of your parents passed away, you went to live with them and even though Coco was older, you and he had a bond he didn’t even have with his own sisters.

Angel knew that, but he didn’t know the whole story of your stay in Celia’s place. He didn’t know the real reason why you and Coco moved out together.

“You need to tell me what’s going on,” Angel asked Coco, an hour later when he walked out of the bedroom after talking to you and leaving you calmer.

“I can’t… I promised her I wouldn’t say anything, plus, the only one with the right to tell you is her” Coco said, shaking his head “Just, give her space and time for now, she’ll tell you when she’s ready”

Angel thought that he would get to know more about what happened once Coco talked to him, but he didn’t. He was back at the beginning and even more confused. What was happening to you that you didn’t want to share with him? But, most importantly, why didn’t you want to share that with him?

He did exactly what Coco told him, he stayed in the living room, sitting on the couch, but even knowing that he was giving you what you needed, he couldn’t help but be frustrated for leaving you alone in the bedroom. He wanted to hug you and keep you safe from whatever thing was happening in your head.

Angel’s eyes opened when you tapped his shoulder, maybe five hours later. He looked at you, trying to find something that lets him know how you were.

You looked better, but your eyes weren’t shining like always.

“Hey” he whispered, sitting up “How are you?”

“Fine,” you said even though you knew he wouldn’t believe it “Can we talk?”

“Yeah” he nodded and moved aside to let you space in the armchair.

You sat at his side, leaving some inches separating your body from his. You looked at your lap, grabbing the end of Angel’s t-shirt you were wearing and playing with it as he looked at you, patiently waiting for whatever you wanted to tell him.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” you said.

“It’s okay…”

“It’s not” you shook your head and sighed “You know? In the morning, you said I had the look in my face that tells you you’re gonna lose me for a couple of days, and I want to thank you for giving me space whenever that happens, but… there’s a reason behind it”

He nodded, not wanting to say something to not interrupt you.

“When my parents passed away, I moved in with Coco and his mom, you know that” you started “Uh… Coco moved out a couple of years after that happened, and even though it wasn’t anything like my life with my parents, at least I had a roof above my head” you cleared your throat once you started to feel the lump growing “One night… Celia brought some friends to the apartment; she told me that they were going to be quiet ‘cause I had school the next day, so I went to bed…”

At that point in the story, Angel knew what happened to you but he was praying for him to be wrong. Seeing your eyes filling with tears though, made him know he wasn’t wrong.

“One of her friends… he… uh, came into the bedroom and…” your voice broke and you couldn’t keep going.

Angel took your hand before thinking you could not be fine with it, but you didn’t push him away. “I understand; you don’t have to say it”

“I was just fifteen” you cried and leaned your head into Angel’s shoulder.

Angel wrapped you in his arms and just let you cry in him. He was worried for you, but at that moment, hearing you cry, he felt anger at the bastard who did that to you. He was mad and all that he wanted to do was —besides staying with you and hold you close until you were okay— to look for that man and killed him, but before, making him suffer the same way you’re still suffering because of what he did.

For the moment, he held you until your last tear fell.

“How’s (Y/n)?” Was the first thing Coco asked Angel the next day when he saw him at the clubhouse.

“Better, but she didn’t want to go to work, I called and said she’s sick,” Angel said, leaving his helmet in the seat of his motorbike, “She told me everything”

Coco nodded, taking his cigarette to his mouth “You have to make sure she knows you’re there for her”

“Yeah” Now Angel was the one nodding “You know who was it?”

Coco looked at him for a few seconds and shook his head, taking a step closer at the Mayan “Forget it”

“How do you want me to forget it?” Angel exploded, his muscles tensing and suddenly, he was mad at Coco too “You weren’t there, you didn’t see how scared she was yesterday… she didn’t recognize me, I just want—”

“I know what you want ‘cause I feel the same” Coco interrupted him “But she’s already worried for what we do for a living, let’s not worry her more with the idea of killing him”

“She doesn’t have to know—”

“Forget it, Angel”

Angel sighed in frustration. He knew Coco was right. If you ever get to know that the two most important men in your life committed murder —That they had before but you always tried to not think about it— for you, you could freak out, and you were already under a lot of stress.

Then, Angel looked at the metal door and saw Letty walking to them with Chucky at her side. He frowned and slapped Coco’s arm.

“What are you doing here?” Angel asked Letty and both —Letty and Coco— were confused for the question “(Y/n) said you were going to spend the day with her”

“She didn’t call me,” Letty said, taking her phone out of her pocket to confirm she didn’t have any call or text from you “See? Nothing” She showed him the screen, so Angel took his phone to call you “She lied, maybe she wanted to be alone… it’s not the first time she does that”

Angel shook his head and Coco looked at him “No, she looked fine this morning…” He pressed your contact name and it ranged maybe three times and then sent him to voicemail. “Didn’t pick up… she always picks up”

“She’s in the bathroom…” Coco commented.

“No, listen to me, I don’t like this”

“Call her again” Letty suggested while she was writing some texts and that’s what Angel did.

He called you four times, but you never picked up, so he grabbed his bike and drove to your apartment with Coco following him.

And some people could think that Angel was overreacting, but when he said you always pick up all the calls, it’s because you do it at a level that is annoying. No matter what you were doing, you always pick up your phone when it rang and if, by any chance you couldn’t, you call back the moment you could.

The only thing Angel wanted was to know if you were okay and he didn’t care that you could get mad at him for his overprotectiveness. And, when they got to your building, your car wasn’t in your parking spot so they got to your apartment, but, of course, you were nowhere to be found.

The first thing Angel did, was to go to open the closet feeling scared of what he could find, but all your clothes were there. All your makeup and beauty products were in the bathroom; all your shoes were there too.

But then, he saw the cabinet where he kept his other gun opened and when he walked to it to check it, the gun was gone.

“What?” Coco asked once he heard Angel swearing.

“She told me she saw the bastard in the cafeteria yesterday,” Angel said and Coco nodded ‘cause you told him that too “She took my second gun”

“Shit”

All the M.C knew you as the one who changed Angel Reyes and the one who could make Coco shut up, so everyone in there loved you. Obviously, when Angel explained the situation they were in, Bishop ordered all the club to look for you.

Santo Padre is not a big city, but you having a really common car made it hard for them to find you.

It’s been ten hours without knowing anything about you, Angel and Coco were going crazy and even Letty was worried, she was in your apartment in case you came back. You never called back and either Coco nor Angel wanted to keep calling you, they didn’t want your phone to run out of battery.

“We’re so stupid,” Letty said to Coco when he picked her call.

“What?” Coco asked and Angel got closer to listen.

“Why don’t we track her phone?” She suggested, she was so frustrated for not thinking that before “She has this apple tracker thing…”

“We need the serial number to do th—”

“Letty!” Angel raised his voice for Coco to shut up “The box of her phone has to be in the drawers under the T.V…”

“In the living room?” She asked and Angel responded with an affirmative sound.

They heard Letty moving things while Angel opened an app on his phone, waiting for her to find the serial number of your phone. At that point, Angel was desperate to know anything about you, he needed to know you were fine and that you hadn’t done anything you could regret.

When Angel tapped the number Letty gave him, a small circle appeared in the white screen ‘cause the page was charging and he felt the app was working too slow.

But, when the map appeared with a small circle in red, he got up on his bike, so Coco, Gilly, and Ez did the same. They didn’t remember the last time they drove that fast, they even ignored the red lights. Angel didn’t care to get a ticket, he would pay twice the price if that meant that he would get to you sooner.

Everything was dark, the only thing lighting the road were the four bikes, and then, Angel saw your car in the middle of the lonely field.

“Help!” They heard someone screaming once they got closer “The bitch is crazy!”

“No one’s gonna help you!” Angel heard your voice and then when he got off the bike, he saw you hitting the face of the man with the butt of the gun in your hand “Keep digging!”

“Amor…” Angel called you, trying to make you turn to him ‘cause you haven’t keep your eyes off of the man who was digging in the ground.

“Back off, Angel!” You said, without looking at him.

“I’m not” he shook his head and gave a few steps to you. Someone else wouldn’t get that close to you now that you have a gun, but Angel knew you wouldn’t hurt him “Escúchame… [Listen to me] This is not you, amor, let me do it…”

“No” you responded, “I have to do it myself…”

“No, you don’t”

“You don’t understand!” You placed your free hand in his chest and pushed him away “I have tried everything to move on... everything! And nothing has worked. I know I have to do this. Me! No one else…”

Angel saw all the pain your eyes radiated and even though he didn’t want you to kill the man in front of you, he knew he couldn’t stop you. You have made the decision maybe a long time ago.

“I’m here for you,” Angel said and walked over to you again, his hand on your neck as he leaned to kiss your head “I’m here if you change your mind”

“We all know she won’t do it,” the man in the ground said, Angel threw a kick at his face, breaking probably his nose and you aimed the gun at his head.

“I’m not asking you to stop this time, keep digging!”

Behind you, Coco, Gilly, and Ez had their guns ready. They exchanged looks for the next fifteen minutes that the man kept digging his own grave.

“Look, it’s been twelve years, right?” Alfonso said, looking at you before spitting more blood “Why don’t you get over it? Look, I’ll go away, you’ll never see me again…”

“You promised that to Coco once, and you didn’t keep it”

“I didn’t know you lived here…”

“I don’t give a damn… keep digging” you ordered, walking to him and aiming the gun at him again.

“You won’t shoot at me,” he said, chuckling “If you would, you would have done it already… we’ve been together for the past six hours… the truth is that… you’re not capable of shooting…”

So you shot but not to his head. You shot to his crotch and the men behind you closed their eyes. “What were you saying?” You asked, shooting again in the same spot “You’re my slut now”

You couldn’t hear his screams of pain, the only thing you could hear was your own crying when he was raping you twelve years before.

“All the pain you’re feeling, it’s nothing compared with what I’ve felt all these years”

He was doubled over in agony, his chest moving up and down faster every second, but that didn’t stop him to look at you and smirk “You may be fucking around with your Mayan, but you can’t change the fact that I was the first one that was inside of…”

And you shot at his head.

You stood there. A whole minute you didn’t hear anything —not even the bikes of the rest of the club—, you didn’t smell anything, it was like, all your senses turned off for that minute, but the most important was that you felt at peace. You felt at peace for the first time in twelve years.

The gun hit the ground and before your knees could do the same, Angel was there at your side, hugging you and keeping you in your feet as you cried in his chest.

Angel looked at his brother and both nodded, understanding what they had to do. Coco took the shovel to finish digging and you heard Bishop saying something about your car but you didn’t pay a lot of attention to it.

Twenty minutes after, you were in the backseat of your car with Angel while on the outside, the mc was working to throw everything away. Your head was in his shoulder as he tried to keep you close the best he could. You saw the sky lighting up through the windshield.

“It’s gonna rain?” You asked and Angel was relieved when he heard your voice again.

“It seems so” Angel answered before kissing your forehead “You want to jump in puddles?”

“I’d like that” You chuckled, trying to remember the last time you did it.

“Or do you want me to kiss you in the rain?”

You hit his ribs with your fist and chuckled again, but nodded “That would be nice, too”

“(Y/n)” you heard Bishop through Angel’s open door “We’re cleaning your car… you’ll have it back in two or three days”

“Oh… thanks” You nodded and he smiled at you.

“Take her home,” Bishop told Angel “I’ll call you if we need you… you did what you had to do, niña” he added, looking at you and cupping your cheek.

When you got out of the car, the first one to approach you was Coco. You smiled when he hugged you and told him: “I’m fine”

“I know you are” he smiled and kissed your forehead “You’re strong, you’ve always been”

That night, you took a shower and Angel took care of your knuckles that were hurt when you beat Alfonso until you got tired. Letty cooked dinner before she left you two alone and you ate while you talked about anything but what happened earlier.

You went to bed, Angel kissed you and while he spooned you, he whispered in your ear how much he loved you, how proud of you he was and how much he admired you for deciding to stop being prisoner of your past.

You turned around to face him, your eyes went from his lips to his eyes and you couldn’t help but touch his cheek and then take your hand up to his hair “I’m finally free” you said, half-smiling “I don’t want you to lose me again, but if I ever do… make me come back to you”

Angel kissed your lips and nodded “I will” he promised.

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

|| PROMPTS LIST TO REQUEST ||

#angel reyes #angel reyes drabble #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fic #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x female reader #Mayans MC #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfic #coco cruz

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fandomandflowers · 3 years

Text

Beta Reading Guide

A Beta Reader is someone who reads an Author’s, usually unpublished, fan-fiction, or work of writing. Not every Writer is a Beta Reader and not every Beta Reader is a Writer. There are many different ways to Beta Read and it is about finding what works for you and your Author.

To me, Beta Reading is about working with your Author to help them feel as though their work is the best it can be.

You’re offering an outside, Average Reader’s perspective which is incredibly useful in picking up plot holes, spelling and grammar mistakes, changes in tone or theme, and where a sentence structure may not be so good.

Just as there are different types of writers, there are different types of Beta Readers.

I, myself, have very little clue when it comes to Spelling, Punctuation and Grammar (or SPaG) so the Beta Readers I use are usually pretty good at that sort of stuff. At the same time though, I can manipulate dialogue and actions to express what the author wants to happen while also being in character. Everyone has a different skillset, and that is part of what makes fan-fiction writing so wonderful. Everything is different.

If you’re interested in becoming a Beta Reader then here are some things that may help you along the way:

Don’t Beta read ‘just for fun.’

While Beta reading is fun, please don’t be one of those people who offer to beta read just because of that. The first thing to know about Beta Reading is that it isn’t about you. That seems harsh, but at the end of the day, it is about helping the Author. While helping them is really fun, and a great way to build relationships with people, your main focus shouldn’t be on what you’re getting out of it, it should be about helping the Author put out the best work they can.

You’re allowed to say no.

This has its importance in every aspect of life, but here we’re talking about if someone asks you to Beta Read a fic for them. A simple ‘No, thank you,’ can save a world of trouble. You don’t have to have a reason, and you are under no obligation to share your reason if you have one. It is better to say no before you start than in the middle of looking into someone’s fic. While you can leave at any point you should never ghost an Author by just dropping out. It is always better to tell them you can’t do it anymore, Authors are lovely and understanding people (Or at least all the ones I have encountered).

Communication is so important!

I am a big fan of Google Docs! Even if you don’t usually use it for writing it is incredibly helpful for sharing, editing, suggesting, and communicating. There is a chat function on Docs, once there are two people (on desktop) in a Document, the chat function will be there in the top right of the screen. But if you and your writer don’t use Google Docs, you must have some other way of communicating. Discord is great; Whatsapp and Messenger work too if you are more familiar with your partner.

Be Open and Honest.

If you get squicked or triggered by certain things, or even if you just don’t like reading them, then let the Author know, because they know what is in their fic! While I know many people who have or do on a regular basis, it isn’t necessary to get squicked or triggered just to beta a fic for someone. If you tell your partner, it might only be one line, and they can block it out for you. If not, then you can move on to other projects.

Be honest about what you are and aren’t good at in terms of writing and editing. I always tell anyone who asks me to Beta for them that I am rubbish at picking up on SPaG errors. And it is okay that you aren’t good at everything, no one expects you to be, but it is expected that you know your own limits. Often Authors aren’t looking for a whole editing progress, just someone to go through it and tell them if it sounds alright.

Ask what the Author is looking for before you start reading.

Is the Author asking you for knowledge on Canon? For SPaG? Tone? Brit Picking? Plot holes? Dialogue? Is the Author asking you if you think everything is in character? It is important to know what sort of advice/help/information they are after so you know what to look at more closely.

If they explicitly tell you they aren’t after help with SPaG (or any other point) then don’t give it to them. Offering something like: ‘I noticed some spelling errors, would you like me to tell you about them?’ is perfectly fine, but if they ask you not to do something, then don’t.

It is also important to establish if this project has a time restraint. Many fests require Beta Readers and so an Author might have a due date enforced. Or they may simply prefer to get it posted as soon as possible. So ask how in-depth they want you to go; are they after accuracy or speed?

There are many different types of fics, and each is written differently so it is important to know what sort of fic theirs is. Crack? AU? Canon? You don’t want to be telling your Author all the Canon mistakes in an AU fic, and you don’t want to miss out telling them about Canon mistakes if you think the fic is supposed to be AU.

Some authors aren’t after a lot of robust and constructive criticism and instead are more looking for support and cheerleading. Also, I like to ask, if they haven’t finished the fic, whether they are looking for ideas on where to go next.

Suggest. Don’t Edit.

Never edit someone’s writing. That seems counter-intuitive, but what I mean is don’t write over what they have written. It is rude and a sure-fire way to make enemies.

I will say it again and again. I love Google Docs! You can change the setting to only make suggestions, so if you cut a word it only shows a strikethrough. Then that suggestion can be accepted or declined. This is great for editing and apart from that, it is also great as the author can pick up on mistakes they have made multiple times which helps them grow.

Commenting is excellent for giving ideas about specific sections, asking questions, and pointing out things you like and think work really well. If you don’t use Google Docs but are still editing on a word document then you have other options, but always ask the Author what they’d prefer. You can use [these handy brackets.] <These too.> You can change colors, or bolden your edits if there is no bold text in the rest of the document. Another alternative is to simply make a list, quote the unedited passage then list the changes that you think should be made, underneath.

If you think something major should be changed, explain why.

I like to do this with almost all my edits, to be honest. If I want to change the structure of a sentence, I explain: ‘I think this makes it more readable’, or 'I think this lends itself to the flow’, or 'I think this allows for more descriptive language’.

From the Author’s perspective, it can be hard to see why you’re suggesting changes. If there is a plot hole then explaining where or why it doesn’t work is incredibly helpful!

The authors are under no obligation to accept any of your suggestions.

Please don’t get offended if the author doesn’t accept a suggestion you made. At the end of the day, it is their creation and they are the ones to decide what happens. I love my Beta readers so much because they’re always seeing things I don’t. Sometimes they give suggestions and I love them, but they also don’t always work with the tone, or they might have changed a bit of foreshadowing… or as is more usual in my writing, they may have wanted to change a very stupid line that I love because I think it is funny, despite literally no-one else ever thinking so.

Try not to change the tone of a piece of writing.

Similar to the last point, this is the Author’s work, they decide the tone of what they’ve written. I tend to write more light-hearted, funny fics than sad and angsty ones so when I beta I try to avoid Beta reading those sorts of fics as my edits just tend to lean more toward making the fic light-hearted. Seeing as I don’t really do Brit-picking or SPaG edits then the type of fic is one of the first things I ask the creator if they want me to Beta.

If an author asks you to leave, then do not argue. Just leave.

You wouldn’t like an argument if you said no to Beta Reading, and likewise, the author doesn’t want an argument for asking you to leave. There are many reasons you might be asked to leave. Life could have gotten in the way, they might feel self-conscious about writing when others can see, they may not like your suggestions, they might feel like they don’t need any more advice or they simply don’t feel like having a beta reader anymore. While it isn’t common for an Author to ask someone to leave, it is perfectly valid and should never garner argument.

Talk to the Author about crediting you.

I only use AO3, so I am not sure about how things are on other sites. But often I will see in the ‘Author’s Notes’ a thank you to their Beta. This is lovely, I think. It lets the readers know that the writing has been Beta’d, it can make the Beta feel special, and it can work as advertising if the Beta is interested in other projects and wants to make a name for themself. There are also reasons why you may not like to be mentioned at all, if you prefer to stay anon, don’t want to be linked to the work or creator, or for no particular reason at all. So talking to the author about whether you want your name there if they decide to credit you is, I think, a good idea.

%%%

I hope this was helpful to at least someone out there. While things change in every situation, the most important thing is being able to communicate, whether you’re a Beta or Author (or both).

Beta Readers are honestly some of the most appreciated people. Ever since I learned what a Beta Reader is, I have learned so much and am so thankful to have friends who are always willing to check out my writing for me.

Special thanks to Streitkertoffel for helping me out Beta’ing my Beta Guide :P

#guide #beta reading #fanfiction

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

“SHOULD I TRY”

Gilly Lopez x Reader

Serie Index. Chapter 3.

Word count: 2.7k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @starrynite7114 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. The gif isn't mine.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @mara-mpou @dazzledamazon @sammskellington @arvedua 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You're nervous.

Gilly is holding your hand, carrying a cardboard bag in the other. You're about to sweat with every step you walk through the alley, on your way to the clubhouse. You look at him, biting your inner lip when you stopped walking. He turns at you with a raised eyebrow. Looking down for a second, you sigh.

“What's up?”

“What if I don't fit in?”

You have your own demons, a past that you wanna hide but sooner or later it will come out. It's not only about what they expected of you, or if you're good enough. It's about your shadow and what it has to say about you.

“Baby, they already love you. You don't have anything to worry about.”

“They're your family.”

“Are you more concerned about them being my family than about what they do?” Gilly laughs loud, you frown upset releasing his hand. “Cariño, come here”.

He pushes you next to his body, holding your waist between his hands. Rising up on your tiptoes and your fingers tangled in his shirt, you kiss him softly. He knows how to calm you down, with that peace only he can transmit to you.

“Shit, I ruin your lipstick”.

“Are you fuckin' serious?” You shout taking the phone of your pocket to see your reflection on the screen.

“Of course not. You're using that one I hate, 'cause it doesn't leave any mark”. He's laughing and you know you can't be upset with him, when he has that kind of smile on his face. He makes you melt every time he laughs so naturally. “Everything is gonna be ok, baby.”

You're not sure about that, but his kiss on your temple relaxed you. With an arm on your shoulders, you two finally arrive to the front yard. It's been three months since you were there last, but seems that everything is the same. You can see Angel taking care of the barbecue near the ring, with a big table full of different types of meat. Some of the guys are sitting around the bonfire accompanied by girls you supposed are from Vicky's place. Gilly told you about them. Good girls, bad life. They're drinking, smoking, laughing, focused on a conversation which is finished when they see you.

“Pretty girl is here!” Coco shouts getting up, walking next to you. “What's up, soldier?”

“Hey”. You say a little bit shy.

“What's that, ah?” He takes the bag in your hand, looking inside.

“Oh, ahm… Gilly told me… Bishop? Is that?” You ask to him, trying to remember all the names. He nods with a soft smile. “Yeah, Gilly told me that Bishop likes to dip the meat. And I made a sauce my mom showed me”.

“Well, lets see what he have to say about it”.

“No, no, wait!” Before you can say anything else, Coco already given him the sauce. Bishop looks at you with a serious gesture on his face. “Shit”. You sigh rubbing your nose.

“He will like it”. Gilly tries to calm you down, while the president walks towards Angel to asks him for a piece of meat.

With the plastic pot on the table, he dips it before eat it. He seems thoughtful, tasting every ingredient of the sauce. Then, you can see how he makes a gesture with the right hand calling someone. An older man walks next to him, while the president dips another piece to offer it to him. He eats it without asking. Gilly is trying to contain his laughs, 'cause he knows what they're doing. You're trembling as fuck.

“Gilly, they're coming”. You mutter at him without turning, with your whole body tensed.

You're about to hide behind your boyfriend when both men stand up in front of you, but you can't move a single inch.

“You made it?” The unknown man is the first one to talk. You nod remarkably nervous. Your hands are sweating.

“My mom… was living in Spain… The sauce is from there”.

“Garlic and oil?” Bishop asks.

“Lemon and salt. It's similar to mayonnaise”. After some seconds in silence, Gilly is who answers.

“Relax, pretty girl. It's fucking awesome, thanks for making it”. Bishop starts to laugh, as Taza does. “Welcome to the clubhouse. You wanna beer?”

“Yes… Sure…”

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

Thirty minutes later you almost feel like you're at home, it has its good things and its bad things. But you like it. You have a burger between your fingers, having a bite of it, while you're listening to funny stories about Gilly that Coco and Creeper are telling. He's ashamed, but at least you're calmer than before. They don't look as the assholes you thought they were gonna be. Men having fun, that's all; enjoying a family dinner.

“So, you work at a preschool?” Gilly seems alleviated when Riz changes the topic.

“Yes”. You nod covering your mouth with a hand, eating one bite. “Since two years ago”. You say after swallowing it. “With children from three years to six”.

“Is it hard?” EZ asks focusing in your words.

“Sometimes. Mostly they're good children, but when they wake up after a nap… Good god, they are like a herd of hungry coyotes”. That comparison accompanied by the gesture on your face seems so funny that everyone laugh.

“Where are you from, (Y/N)?” Bishop asks with a kind of curiosity that makes you feel uncomfortable for a second.

“Mexico”.

“Tijuana”.

Gilly and you answer at the same time.

“Tijuana, Mexico, I mean”. You add. And you can see that the president is thinking about something that you wouldn't like to know.

The night goes on, feeling a kind of strange tension installed between Bishop and you, even if you try to push it away. But your attention travel to a noisy car being parked next to the motorbikes, and you can swear that you heard a “shit” coming from Angel's mouth. Three girls get out of it. Short dresses, exaggerated makeup and smelling like tropical fruits. You turn your face to the men around you, they don't seem so happy because of the new visit.

The girls walk towards the fire, having some beers of the nearest table, believing that they're the divas in the party. You can't handle with arrogance, but you keep your mouth closed.

“Looks like you saw a ghost, what's up, caballeros?” The blonde one shrugs for a moment, before drink of the bottle. “Woah, look at that pretty girl! Are you new? What street do you work on?”

Taza and Creeper snort. Did she call you ‘bitch’? Seems like. You raise a leg on the chair, supporting your feet on the edge of it. Your arm on your knee, the beer in your hand. You adopted that defensive posture, 'cause sometimes it's better let your body talks instead of your mouth.

“She's (Y/N), my girlfriend”.

“Yea' and don' worry 'bout your work, Crystal”. Coco says smoking of his cigar. “She's a teacher. A girl with a real job”.

If it was allowed, you could clap till hurt your hands because of his words.

“A real job is what I did with Gilly. I sucked his cock so many times it has my name on it”.

Now you know what's happening and why the men look so embarrassed. You know well what she's trying, but you're not intimidated by anyone. No longer. Slowly, very slowly, you draw a soft smile on your lips. That gesture baffles everyone. Tangling the fingers of your free hand on your hair, pulling it behind your shoulders, you have a sip of your drink.

“And it only cost me to erase it a quick ride in the shower.”

At first, the front yard is silent. The men are looking at you with the eyes so opened that you're sure they could fall on the floor.

“Yo! She destroyed my ego, but man! She destroyed your existence!” Angel's laughter resounds throughout the place.

At this point of the night, the MC knows they can't fucking mess with you.

You start to think that the blonde girl in front of you thought that she could be an “Old Lady” or however they call it, but she fucked up everything before you came to Gilly's life. You try to remember her name being pretty sure that he talked you about her. Yeah, she was the one who he used to fuck at Vicky's place. But they weren't anything. A girl making a favor. That's all. And yes, of course you believe him.

“He will come back to my bed, remember my words”. Crystal says, proudly lifting the chin.

“Why don' you fucking leave, uh?” Gilly finally talks with anger, gesticulating with a hand for a second. You put a hand on his chest, palming it softly without turning your eyes to him.

You get up of your seat, leaving the beer somewhere on the floor, walking toward her. Face to face. You can smell her disgusting breath of mixed cigars and who-knows-what. Your orbs travel all over her face, studying every inch of it. You can see she's getting nervous, invading her personal space. Cross-armed, you look her from top to bottom slowly.

“You already had your glory minute. Now, leave”.

“Or what?”

“I know you're smart enough to know what's gonna happen' next”.

The three girls laugh, while the others whom were so kind with you are sighing. Seems like it's not the first time she do something similar. The problem comes when she's against someone who's ready for everything.

Crystal pushes you away with both hands on your chest, hardening her face. You laugh softly, putting your eyes on your own feet. Bad decision. Your left fist hits her ribs, causing her to bend forward with a yowl inside her throat. Moving faster, you put both hands on her nape, hitting her face this time with your knee, lifting it up tight. And when you're about to punch her again, hearing the crying, two shoots in the air make you stop. Of course, seeing how fast you move, the Mayans weren't gonna mediate physically. Your chest ascends and descends furious. Pushing your hair away from your face, you turn to the men. They're totally freaking out, but you're not able to look at Gilly. You're fucking ashamed.

The two unknown girls help their friend while Bishop keeps the gun behind his back, walking next to you. You think you fucked up things, before see how he directs his gaze towards Crystal.

“Don't talk about my man like that again, and if you can't respect his Old Lady as she deserves, then get the fuck out of my fucking MC. Or 'am gonna fuck you down and not in the way you would like it, you heard me, querida?” Then, he looks at you. “Come with me”.

Without a word, you follow the president inside the clubhouse, walking the place they call ‘the templo’; a large room with a big table in the middle. He takes a seat on the front chair, pointing with his hand the nearest. You do what appears to be an order. Taking the tobacco pack of his pocket, he offers you a cigar. You light it in your lips having a deepest puff. He does the same. You know that he knows.

“I saw the tattoo between the ring finger and the small one”.

“It's just a tattoo”. You shake your head with pursed lips.

“No, it's not”. He sentences. There's a pause, before he continues talking. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm hiding”.

“From what?”

“From a crazy ex”.

He raises an eyebrow, supporting his arms against the edge of the table.

“You can ask for my medical reports and all the complaints I made”. Your heart is beating faster than you could it's allowed.

“Are you an active member?”

“I've never been. My brother is the president, that's all”.

“You're brother is the president of Los Coyotes de Tijuana, and you say ‘that's all’?”

“Look, I'm not here to… spy or something like that. God! This is why I didn't tell anything about it, Bishop. Why would I have waited two years? It doesn't make sense”.

“Gilly knows?”

“Of course not”.

The man sighs rubbing his temples, throwing himself in the chair. He have a smoke, leaving it out by his nose.

“Your brother knows?”

“Yes”.

“You know you have to request a transfer if you wanna stay here, even if you are not an active member, right?”

“Yes”.

“And you have to tell Gilly”. Your heart stop for a second. You nod swallowing. But then happens something you didn't expect. Bishop holds your hand on the table, urging to look at him. “He's a good man, even if he does what he does. And I know you're telling the truth, but there are no secrets between my crew. And now, you're part of it. If you need protection, we'll give it to you. Although you know how to defend yourself, kid”.

You nod again in silence, while the man is getting up of his chair.

“I'll tell Gilly to come and you're gonna say him who you are, ok? And tomorrow you will arrange a meeting with Los Coyotes”.

Another nod.

The wait for your boyfriend is insanely long, feeling how your heart stops again when the door is opened. You can't turn to him, it's hard to face a situation where you are about to lose the only good thing you have had in life.

“You ok?” He sounds worried, sitting next to you.

“I have to… tell you something, Gilly. And I don't know how to do it”.

“Then make up the truth”. He repeats the words you said in Santa Madre, but you shake your head.

“I wasn't scared of Mayans”. You start, raising your eyes looking for his. “I was scared of what I have to tell you and you don't accepting it, or don't accepting me”.

He's listening only focused on you.

“My brother is the president of Los Coyotes de Tijuana”.

He has an impassive grin on his face.

“I'm not a member, I'm… just his sister, even if I grow up with them. My parents were killed because of their fault, more or less. So, they ‘adopted us’. My brother begun to be a prospect, till three years ago when they made him their president”. You sigh heavily, before showing him the tattoo on your finger. “Look… I didn't tell you 'cause…”

“Bishop already told me your story, before coming in”. He finally talks, and you're not sure what to think. “Are you really here because of me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really feel something for me, or it was just a trick to get closer to the Mayans?”

“Good god…”

“Answer the question, (Y/N)?” His voice is rough, determinant.

“I know it's been three months since we met, but… Shit, Gilly! You're everything I want. I've been hiding my whole life. And yes, I know how to fight, or shoot, or whatever. But being with you made me feel safe for the first time. And it's not only that. You take care of me without expecting anything back.” You're trying your best, exposing all your truly feelings for him. “Gilly, I love you. And I don't wanna lose you. Please… believe me”.

“Arrange the meeting, (Y/N)”. It's all he says.

“Gilly, please…”

“I have to go”.

“No, Gilly, listen. Please!” You're in tears getting up of your seat at the same time he does, trying to stop him.

“Leave me, (Y/N). I need to think and be alone”.

You nod biting your trembling inner lip, looking how he walks out of the Templo.

#mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc x reader #mayans x reader #gilly lopez imagine #gilly lopez #gilly lopez x reader

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basilflowers · 4 years

Text

Basil’s Guide to being a good Beta Reader.

A Beta Reader is someone who reads an Author’s, usually unpublished, fan-fiction, or work of writing.

In the Harry Potter fandom community, these are usually unpaid fans. Not every Writer is a Beta Reader and not every Beta Reader is a Writer. There are many different ways to Beta Read and it is about finding what works for you and your Author.

To me, Beta Reading is about working with your Author to help them feel as though their work is the best it can be.

Just as there are different types of writers, there are different types of Beta Readers.

If you’re interested in becoming a Beta Reader then here are some things that may help you along the way:

Don’t Beta read ‘just for fun.’

You’re allowed to say no.

Communication is so important!

Be Open and Honest.

Ask what the Author is looking for before you start reading.

Suggest. Don’t Edit.

Never edit someone’s writing. That seems counter-intuitive, but what I mean is don’t write over what they have written. It is rude and a sure-fire way to make enemies.

If you think something major should be changed, explain why.

I like to do this with almost all my edits, to be honest. If I want to change the structure of a sentence, I explain: 'I think this makes it more readable', or 'I think this lends itself to the flow', or 'I think this allows for more descriptive language'.

From the Author’s perspective, it can be hard to see why you’re suggesting changes. If there is a plot hole then explaining where or why it doesn’t work is incredibly helpful!

The authors are under no obligation to accept any of your suggestions.

Try not to change the tone of a piece of writing.

If an author asks you to leave, then do not argue. Just leave.

Talk to the Author about crediting you.

%%%

I hope this was helpful to at least someone out there. While things change in every situation, the most important thing is being able to communicate, whether you’re a Beta or Author (or both).

Special thanks to Streitkertoffel for helping me out Beta’ing my Beta Guide :P % Basil Flowers %

#fandom #beta reader #writing #harry potter #basil guide #snarry

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kylorenfanfic · 4 years

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Long Away - chapter 10

Kylo Ren x Female Reader

masterlist

TAGLIST IS OPEN - if you want to know when the next chapters come out, just ask me to be add in the taglist :) A/N: Hi! With quarantine all that stuff, I am having more time to write, also, I got over a little bit on my writer’s block. Wait for the next chapters, hehe, things are heating up soon enough *wink wink*. Please if you enjoy reading leave a comment, a like or a reblog, you have no idea how much that means to me and keeps me writing!!! Lots of love and stay safe everyone. #StayHome.

> Sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes :]

> words: 2.5k

You got a ship to nearer the old Jedi Temple, you parked it a bit far from it, but still near enough so you could get there walking. That region wasn’t as crowded as the one you previously were. You could feel the Force in that area, so strong there, you wondered how much stronger it was inside the Temple.

The ancient temple in Dantooine didn’t call you like this one did. That temple was so old and forgotten that maybe even the Force forgot about that place, even though you knew it was still holy. But this temple was different, maybe because it was there where the jedis died. Just like happened to your temple from the New Jedi Order. You also knew it was rebuild, it wasn’t the original one, although the presence was still there.

The five big towers on top of the construction were in front of you. In your mind, you pictured the sentinels in those towers, protecting the Order. In another moment, you could see the empire troopers protecting the place. Now, it was completely forgotten. Not even Snoke or Kylo Ren cared to check the place, it was useless, no Jedis were alive, no one knew how to open the holocroms, no one would understand or use the informations. The Dark Side sympathizers got all of their interest in there during the early Empire years.

You thought you had to fight or sneak out your way into the temple, but you didn’t have to, that was a forgotten place and you could tell that by entering the front door.

A big large hall was ahead of you, statues of Jedi heroes, masters. The place smelled death. The ruin of something once so powerful and now not even the ghosts were there to talk. Oh the battles in there, what those rebuild walls must’ve seen. What might have been the wind wending into holed hallways never before penetrated sounded like the funeral keening of spirits waiting to be avenged. What might have been the resonance of the footfalls of stormtroopers sounded like the beat of distant war drums. What might have been smoke from the fires that should have gone out years ago seemed more like wraiths writhing in torment.

You were walking further in the place, going upstairs, looking for something that maybe would be interesting.

You entered a large room, multiple seats were disposed in circle in the room, you found yourself in the middle of it, watching the viewport. There must’ve been the place where the masters discussed important things about the order and there you were right in the middle of that, a nobody who was just lucky enough to survive another Jedi massacrer. You exited the room and the crying of children echoed into your ears, the sound of lightsabers, now mixed with laughs. It reminded you of your own temple, the children laughing and training, the crying and death at the end.

The ruin of a fallen order was there and nobody to see it, no one cared enough even to remember it. A tear was about to fall from your eye but you cleaned it before it could roll over your cheek, you wouldn’t be crying over it, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened if the New Jedi Order wasn’t destroyed. Would you have died already during a mission? Would you have become a jedi already? Would you be a master someday? Would you have a padawan? All those questions about a life you never got the chance to have making you want to cry while you gave up on looking for something interesting. It was just not worth it.

Broken statues, ripped carpets, broken droids and training balls covered the whole place, just giving it a more abandoned look. You found your way back, you would have memory enough to show Kylo Ren if needed.

You felt a shiver down your spine, a weird feeling. The Force was calling you. You reached the lower floor and it was empty, but there was where the Force wanted you to be. Your heart was heavy, your hands sweaty and your stomach felt like having butterflies in, you didn’t have your saber with you, and you wanted it so badly at that moment. You got the blaster that was hang on your waist and pointed to the nowhere - you felt danger.

Suddenly the blaster was rip out of your hand and flew across the room until his hand covered with a leather glove. Kylo Ren was in front of you, holding the blaster that he just got out of your hand by using the Force. You actually was surprised, you didn’t really imagine he would show up or that he would know where you were. That was very naive of you, of course he would know where you were, he maybe knew everything you did, he probably knew about Poe, about you being an old padawan, a spy and everything else, but instead of panic or fear, in that moment you felt relief. You felt relief it was him right in front of you, and not really an enemy you’d have to fight with - he was an enemy, but you couldn’t really explain the peace that invaded you when you saw his face staring at you, even though he had a serious dangerous look on his eyes.

“Hi” you said, calmly and he remained silent. In your head it crossed a thousand of possibilities of what he would say to you next.

“Do you know which place is this?” He asked with a firm voice tone.

“Would here by any chance be a bar?” you jokily answered and by his face, you could tell he wasn’t in a mood for jokes.

“I know this is the main Jedi Temple.”

“It was the main Jedi Temple” he restated “and what are you doing here?”

“I was curious” that wasn’t a lie. You knew Kylo had thousands of thoughts in his head and you wished you could see them all – everything that you wanted was him to say something.

“Why?” he asked looking around

“I wanted to learn something about them. By myself.” By his eyes, you knew that he learned that you were more audacious than he thought, that you weren’t that naïve.

“They are dead. There is nothing to learn.”

“There is always something to learn” you gave him a small smile.

“You accepted to be my apprentice, why are you trying to learn by yourself?”

“Well, would you tell me everything about the jedis? What if I wanted to become one?” you still had a small smile on his face.

“The jedis are dead.” That ached a little bit of your heart, because you knew that for sure.

“You keep saying that, but what if I had found something here that could teach me or change my mind? You can’t be the only one to teach me things.”

“You are more ambitious than I thought.”

“Well maybe you underestimated me.” You said with a bit of proud.

“Old things must be left in the past. New things must rise. The jedis, the siths, they all were defeated, we must learn with their mistakes and be better.” He looked at you for the first time in a while.

“Why do you hate the jedis so much?”

“You know why. I showed it to you.” You blushed at this – so that was why you had that dream, Kylo Ren himself wanted you to see his memories, he wanted you to understand him.

“I understand why you hate Luke Skywalker, but why destroy all those lives?”

“There would always be the concern of someone turning to the Dark Side, what if they did? One must do whatever they please, why choose a path?”

“You mean like yourself? Obeying Luke, then Snoke, and now you are on your own.”

“I am the Supreme Leader. I have my own path.”

“Yes, I guess your method works, but at what cost? Do you even have feelings?” he remained silent, you stared at him, hoping he would say something back. “At those memories I had empathy for Ben Solo – that was your name, I guess – he felt the same as I did, but in such different circumstances. What now? All those feelings are gone?”

“Why did you want to come here… to betray me coming to the Jedi Temple?”

“Woah, hold it there. First, I didn’t betray you or whatever” you firmly stated “what? Looking for knowledge is some short of crime now? I am not going against you or anything.” You sighed “you are so paranoid, honestly. You think someone is going to betray you, to overthrow you, so you want everyone to be terrified by you, but actually you are trying to hide your weakness: your feelings. Yeah, you do have feelings, Kylo Ren.”

“Second” you started again “I came here because this place called me, I don’t know, I just felt it.” At a moment you admired yourself at how a good liar you were. “Do you want to punish me? Fine. Choke me again, throw me back to the prison, kill me or whatever, but I have done nothing wrong. And by doing any of that, you are losing an ally, an important one, because as far as I can tell… you don’t exactly know many Force-sensitive people.”

“You said you wanted people to choose their own path, I am trying to choose mine, but apparently you are doing the same as they used to do. I can be loyal to you, you just gotta let me be me. And teach me somethings, afterwards I know nothing.” Kylo had a blank expression, his eyes craving into yours, you kept staring him. You started to notice his face, his smooth lines that gave him a tough look, his nose, the scar, his dark eyes. His lips. You remembered Poe kissing you, it was your first kiss – know you knew how it was like to be kissed and you couldn’t avoid wondering how would be to kiss another lips. His lips.

“Fine” he declared at the end. Your mind wandered far away, from what the conversation was before, and your eyes from his lips immediately focused on something else.

“What?” you asked blinking, trying to bring your mind back to the moment.

“I trust you.” He said. You didn’t know it, but he wasn’t telling the truth, he wasn’t trusting you for real, yet.

“You mean… we’re friends?” you said confused, with some short of silly smirk on your lips.

“No. I mean you’re my apprentice and I trust you.” You smiled at him, believing in his words. You took a step closer.

“Give me your hand” you said, standing your hand for him. He oddly looked at it, wondering what you were pretending. “Let’s leave here together, if you trust me. Hold my hand.” You explained. His large hand touched your, you felt the leather of the glove he was wearing, it was cold but you could also feel the warmth of his hand covered by it, you squeezed his hand and looked at him, his eyes were different now, they weren’t that scary anymore.

“I have another question though” you stared at his eyes while holding his hand, the question had just popped into your mind as you recalled his memories – and yours. He remained in silence waiting for your question. “How was it like? In Luke’s Temple, I mean. You showed me your memories and I could feel how you felt but how it was for you so you could feel like that?” ‘Because for me it was like home’ you finished the question in your mind.

His hand left yours and he took a step back, you weren’t sure if he was going to answer you.

“You know what? Nevermind, don’t answer it. Let’s go” you said again starting to walk towards the exit.

“I liked it at first” he started and you looked at him like a child would look at their parent telling a fascinating story about their own past. “But all they did was look at themselves and think that they were the only ones able to control the Force.”

“Maybe they thought you didn’t want to be with them” you said also remembering your days.

“And I didn’t. My parents just didn’t want to have the trouble to deal their Force-sensitive son and educate him, so they thought that throwing him in Skywalker’s hands would solve things. I didn’t want to be there.”

“You said you wanted at first.”

“It was all new and exciting. I liked the idea of having other people around that were like me, I was just a child afterwards. I was silly and naïve and I trusted Skywalker.”

“Didn’t you stop liking them because Snoke got in your head?”

“Snoke was right all along, he was just stating the truth.”

“I don’t remember my parents” you randomly said “I guess that maybe I am lucky. You can’t really miss something you never had, right? Or at least you don’t remember you had… What I mean is that you remember your parents and they weren’t the best for you at just sending you to Luke. But they weren’t that bad, were they?”

“Have you never wanted to meet your parents?” he didn’t answer your question.

“A few times yes. I had a friend who took care of me when I was lonely the most, she showed me a good path and made me feel right about the place I was.”

“Well and where is she now?” he mocked the way you were talking about her.

“She…” you took a deep breath “is dead.” And in your head the scene of Hylia being killed by the man in front of you was on repeat. You felt a tear in your eye and you turned around to hide your face from Kylo, you cleaned the single tear and cleared your throat looking back at him. “She died protecting me.”

“Is that why you were living all alone in Dantooine? Feeling the pain over her death?”

“Yeah, that too.” you could tell he was waiting for an explanation for your life in Dantooine – for a moment you wished you could tell him the truth. “I was hiding, I was afraid of who killed her to come after me. But I guess I was stupid all this time, they never remembered who I was. And why would they? I am a nobody.”

“You were a nobody.”

“What am I now?”

“You’re my apprentice now. And you are getting a position inside the First Order.”

“Oh, that’s new, can I get a paycheck too?” you jokily smiled.

“Is protection enough?”

“I guess.”

“You don’t have to hide anymore, (Y/N).”

“Neither do you.” You stared at his eyes.

“I don’t hide.” He firmly answered you

“Don’t you?” because you knew he was hiding his feelings. **

CHAPTER 11

taglist: @ohhh-boo-tiful @fandomshit6000 @strangedarkling @dark-night-sky-99 @moonlightsolo @shockwavee @sallyp-53 @silverlambcaptain @lonesome-loser @little-girl-who-dream-too-much @delicatesleeper @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @cynthianokamaria @alex-baebae @antoniamarie1989-blog @nickangel13 @xsar-bearx @blondekel77 @gyllnhall @greeniemoon @robindoesntloveme @kylocanyounot @oh-mymendes @ux-l3ee @we-all-are-strange @blondekel77 @fanboyswhereare-you

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tavi-hayes · 4 years

Text

challenge six ~ family time

((hello hello! massive thanks to anna for the lovely rps @hugo-stanton and @/arin-schreave, and cassey @ladyreggiewright thank you for the rp too! uncle aran is such a joy! this fic is hecking long again (11k), i’m sorry. ignore the spelling/grammar mistakes as always. finally, if anyone decides to read this then enjoy! also there is a short bit written in the pov of tavi’s mom just because i felt the need to share her feelings))

The feeling of missing my family has become unbearable. It’s the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep at night.

During the day I can suppress the thoughts simply by focussing on other stuff. Music for example. Or the anticipation for the food we’ll have for dinner. But dinner reminds me of Brooke’s elimination and how quiet it is during mealtimes without her around.

Or my mind goes to Hugo and that kiss. The thought alone makes me feel all warm inside. I still can’t believe that happened. It feels like a dream. Or a fairy tale. Something unreal.

I trace the stitching on the hem of the tablecloth with my finger. There is a beautiful golden embroidery all over the fabric. It still surprises me how these royals live. Even their tablecloths look like a work of art.

There is only one other girl sitting at my table. A pretty blonde with a sense of calmness and elegance around her. If she is excited or nervous, she doesn’t show.

I glance around the room. There are 3 other tables with two girls each. All of them seem to be paired up with a friend, their voices filling the room. Leana is sitting at a different table, happily chatting with another girl.

There are eight of us left. Seven if you exclude me.

We are the Elite. How crazy is that?

One of us is going to get married to the prince. Become his queen.

I know for a fact it isn’t going to be me. And I’m content with that.

Even if the prince and I would be the last two people on this planet, it still wouldn’t happen. We just don’t get along. Perhaps trying to shoot him with a paintball gun had been the cause of that. Or maybe we just weren’t compatible. Who knows? Who cares?

For some miraculous reason I had stumbled upon the kindest person there is. Someone who listens and makes me smile nonstop. Someone who makes me feel safe. I can still feel the ghost of that kiss on my lips.

“Tavi!”

I jump up from my chair immediately, just in time to see my brother run towards me. I kneel and he throws his arms around me.

Some tears escape, running down my cheeks.

Another pair of arms join in. Aria.

I pull both of them into a tight hug. They smell like home, a little dusty but with a hint of pinewood and cinnamon. More tears fall down my cheeks.

A hand lands on my shoulder. I let go of my little siblings and stand up to give my mom a hug. She can’t hold the tears back either. They fall on the fabric of my dress on my shoulder. I couldn’t care less about the stain they’ll leave behind. It’s just water so it will dry eventually.

The only thing I care about now is my family. Here. With me.

*****

"Good morning."

All my muscles tense at the sound of that voice.

Please don't let it be directed to us.

Please go to a different table.

We've managed to not speak to each other for so long, why ruin it now?

But unfortunately the person stops walking, his presence looming over me as he stands still behind my chair.

The expression on my mom's face tells me she wished for him to keep walking too. A nervous laugh escapes. No she is definitely not feeling comfortable with the prince this nearby. I wonder if it's because of his royal status. Or maybe there is a different cause for her to not be at ease.

Because the man looking at her now may be the only person in all of Illéa who could do something for my dad.

It seems my little sister and brother are the only ones in this family who know how to properly act in social situations.

Aria gives the prince a friendly smile, "hello." Arlan waves as a way of greeting. I feel a tinge of pride at the sight of them. They're 12 and 9 years old respectively but they apparently know better how to be polite than us.

"How are you all doing today?" Okay so he is going to have a chat with us? What have I done to deserve this?

My mom manages to reply, "it's nice to see our Tavi again." Her eyes lock with mine. There is a hint of sadness there, but for the most part her eyes are filled with warmth. Just looking at her reminds me of home.

I reach for her hand and give it a little squeeze, letting her know she is not alone in this situation. Hopefully the gesture takes some of the unease away, even though I myself wish I could run away from this conversation. I don't understand why he felt the need to come over. Couldn't he go have a talk with the girls he actually liked?

I try to relax a little but that's easier said than done. Regardless of how I feel, I know I need to say something at some point. "Allow me to introduce my family. My mom Viola, my sister Aria and my brother Arlan," I say, motioning my hand at each of them even though it's clear who's who.

The prince takes a couple of steps in my family's direction. My eyes follow his every move. If he tries to hurt them in any way, I will ...

But he simply holds out his hand to each of them. My mom first, she shakes his hand. Her eyes shift to me for a split second, the unease is easy to read. Then she lets go of his hand. My siblings shake his hand in turn.

Then he turns to me. It's first time we've had eye contact since that date. "I think later today Hugo has something planned if that's alright."

My heart starts racing right at the moment Hugo’s name leaves his mouth. I can do nothing but stare at the prince. I blink my eyes at him. "Hugo?" I try to discreetly take some deep breaths, willing my heart to slow down. "What kind of plan?"

"I promised I wouldn't tell." I don't know what surprises me more, the fact that the prince is in on this mysterious plan or the smile that is now on his face. I blink my eyes again, perhaps I'm just imagining this? But no, the smile remains. And for some reasons it feels like he knows something. Did someone tell him about that kiss? Did anyone overhear our conversation in the garden? Or perhaps the conversation during our dance?

I glance around the room, scanning every face. But my eyes can't find Hugo.

"Who's Hugo?" Aria's voice fills the silence. How am I going to explain this? I turn back to find her looking at the prince. That's somewhat of a relief, let him explain then. My mom's eyes however have settled on me and when I look at her, I know she's noticed my looking around.

"He's my cousin. He and Tavi are friends."

My gaze immediately shifts to the prince. He's still smiling at my sister. I don’t understand how on earth he would know about this friendship. I know I have never mentioned it to him. So that can only mean ...

"How did you meet him?" Aria asks, her full attention is now on me.

"Uhm," I twirl some hair around my finger, "there was this photography thing."

She opens her mouth to ask more but someone else beats her to it. Arlan asks, "is this your house?"

My little brother, my saviour. I am not ready for an Aria interrogation. Especially not with the prince present. Oh dear god no, that would have been awful.

From the corner of my eye, I see the prince nodding his head at my little brother. "Yeah, it is."

Aria holds my stare. There is a challenge in her eyes, a mischievous grin on her face. I will most certainly hear about this later.

"Cool," Arlan replies, "it's so big."

Yeah especially if you compare to our little house back in Denbeigh.

My mom's voice makes me break the staring contest with Aria. I notice the friendly smile on her face. "I'm sorry, we don't mean to take up all of your time. Other people must want to speak with you as well." I know what she's doing. She's trying to make him leave. Whether it's for her own unease to disappear, or if it's because she's noticed that I'm not the biggest fan of the prince, I don't care. I appreciate the effort and I hope he gets the memo.

"A little too big, huh?" He replies to Arlan, followed by a light chuckle.

And now leave. Please.

He doesn't. He looks at my mom instead and shakes his head. "You aren't at all. It's always a pleasure to meet new people."

I can't believe my own ears. How is this the same person who asked me if I preferred to be called Queen or Princess? He had been such an asshole. Why is he so nice now?

"Do you also have lots of cars?" Arlan's voice is full of excitement and curiosity.

"Yeah we do, down in the garage. Have you been down there yet?" The prince replies, nodding along as he speaks.

Arlan's eyes grow bigger and bigger. "No. Are we allowed to?"

"Well, we should change that. Maybe Tavi and I or Tavi and Hugo can take you down there later." He turns his head in my direction.

I don't understand why he would even suggest that first pairing. Tavi and I. As if that is ever going to happen. You can’t tell me this prince wants to spend more time with me than he has to.

And that second pairing… Why is he bringing Hugo into this again?

I’m very capable of taking my little brother to see the cars without any help. But I do need to find out the general directions to the garage beforehand.

Arlan has gotten up from his chair and is now standing by my side, clutching my arm with his tiny hands. "Please Tavi please please."

My heart aches, I've missed him so much. I muss his hair, "yeah I guess."

The prince chuckles again. Seriously who is this? "Well, then I guess it's settled."

Arlan pushes my hand away and turns to the prince with a huge grin on his face, "cool." I watch him go back to his chair. Mom is smiling at him when he turns to her. "Mom, did you hear that? I get to go see the cars later?"

I turn to look at this friendly prince. I force a smile to my face, if only for making my brother this happy. "Uhm thanks, you just made his day."

He smiles in return, "no problem." He leans down, his head coming closer to mine. This may be the first civil conversation we've had, but that doesn't mean he can enter my personal space. "Hugo does need to see you in a bit though." His voice is a whisper only I can hear.

What is this plan?

I've never been a fan of surprises, or when things being kept hidden from me. Not since I've got the biggest surprise of my life. That day in the court room.

I just want to know everything that's going to happen. Always.

"I'll go find him later then."

I watch the prince nod his head. "Something tells me you'd rather have him meeting your family than me."

I don't tell him he's right though. This is not something I want to discuss with him. Not now, not ever. "What makes you say that?"

He smiles at me. "He's usually pretty straight forward with his feelings."

My cheeks heat immediately. What does this mean? Did Hugo talk to the prince about what happened? Because I'm pretty sure that what happened classified as treason. It doesn't make sense for him to discuss this with the person currently ruling the country, who also happens to be his family. The possibility of being punished looms over me. It feel like some scary monster is breathing down my neck. How am I going to get away with this?

And besides, Hugo never talked to me about whatever this is between us.

I think you make me happy.

That's all I got. Nothing more, nothing less. There are so many ways to interpret that sentence.

Like … Friends can make you happy too.

But he did kiss me back.

I'm overthinking this.

I blink at the prince who is still way to close for my liking. "Feelings?" I glance around the room again, but there is no sign of Hugo.

When I turn back, the prince has pulled away from me and I can finally breath again.

I vaguely hear the conversation between my mom and the prince. They’re talking about their rooms in the palace. Sounds like a safe and neutral conversation topic to me.

My mind keeps getting distracted, repeating the prince’s words over and over again.

Something tells me you'd rather have him meeting your family than me.

He's usually pretty straight forward with his feelings.

“Oh my god! Really?” Aria’s high-pitched voice snaps me out of my thoughts. She’s looking at the prince with heart-eyes, like he is some magical and wonderful fairy tale creature. I can’t help but roll my eyes at her. Sometimes she acts like someone way above her age, but other times I get reminded that she’s still a kid.

The prince laughs. He actually laughs. “Of course.” I take my eyes of my sister and focus on the prince instead. Who is this guy? He looks around the room and when he turns back to look at my siblings his voice is nothing more than a whisper. “Did anyone show you the playroom we have?”

“Playroom,” Aria and Arlan say at the same time. Their voices are filled with excitement.

I’m still watching the prince when he looks in my direction. “Maybe you can have Hugo show them where it is?”

I swear to god. How many times is he going to mention Hugo? If my mom hadn’t noticed it before then she’s surely aware of it now.

“Like now?” I don’t even see Hugo in this room. Do I really have to go find him just to show my siblings where the playroom is? I’m sure he has better things to do.

My siblings however will not let go of the promise of a playroom unless they actually get to visit it. Arlan’s attention is completely on me now, “please, I wanna go to the playroom.”

There is no way I can say no to his sad puppy dog eyes.

“Why can’t you show us?” Aria says to the prince, sounding very disappointed. “I like you better.”

I turn to face my sister, I can’t believe the words that leave her mouth. How can she like the prince? Sure, he has been nice during this chat, but this is legit the first time he’s been like this since I’ve been here.

Maybe he is just pretending to be nice. Trying to make a good impression on our families.

Or maybe he’s just in a good mood.

Who knows?

“I’m sorry, I have to stay here with the other guests. But maybe another time I can come with you.”

A feeling of relief washes over me. My sister however looks like she’s forced to eat the one thing she hates most, broccoli. “Oh okay.”

Mom runs a hand over Aria’s hair, trying to calm her down. I mean it’s not like the world is ending. “I can still take you,” I say as I shoot my sister a look, telling her to get her act together and behave like a normal human being. “If I knew where to go.”

“Oh, if you take a left outside the door it’s the third door on your right.”

I turn to the prince, nodding my head. “Okay thanks, will keep that in mind.”

Left, third door on the right. That’s not too hard.

“I guess we will go have a look,” my mom says, as little Arlan jumps up and down right next to her chair. “It was nice to meet you.” Her voice sounds genuine, but I wonder if she truly means the words.

“It’s been my pleasure. I’m happy you were able to come visit.” The prince has that smile on his face again.

I turn to face my mom instead, knowing very well what’s on her mind. I’m thinking the same thing, this family is missing a member. Two members, if you include my older brother. But I would have personally put Daniel on a plane back to Denbeigh if he would have come here when his wife back home had the flu.

Mom’s eyes become watery, she blinks a couple of times trying to hide it. “Of course, we wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

My heart aches to see my mom like this. I reach for her hand and her eyes find mine. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“The last to reach the door is a loser.” Arlan’s voice is filled with mischief. Aria jumps down her chair, ready to start running.

Before either of them can do so much as blink their eyes, mom has gotten up from her chair and has grabbed them each by their wrist. “Definitely not.” She starts to guide them towards the door, out of the room.

I get up from my chair as well. When I pass the prince, I pat him on his shoulder, “great chat.”

My mom is waiting for me with Aria and Arlan on either side of her.

“Have fun, Tavi.”

I turn around to the prince one last time, “yeah you too.”

« POV switch to Tavi’s mom Viola »

I only let go of Aria and Arlan when we have left the room. They look at each other and run off together. Arlan is way faster than Aria, even though she is 3 years older than him. He would make a great athlete, if he hadn’t been born a Five. “Don’t go too far,” I call after them.

I fall into step with Tavi. My daughter who has always been so well at hiding her true feelings, all of her worries and troubles covered with a mask of calmness. She always tries to stay strong. There are only certain situations when her feelings are too intense to be controlled. Situations that bring back memories. Bad memories.

But seeing her now, she radiates joy and happiness.

Being selected and coming here really brought her back to life. A sparkle has returned in her eyes.

The sparkle that had disappeared 6 years ago.

The image of Caspar’s unconscious body being dragged out of that court room still haunts me every day. Shock had overtaken me then, freezing me in place. The only thing I could do was scream. If I could go back to that moment, I would fight and riot, anything to stop them from taking my husband away from me. But there is no way for me to go back. Not now, not ever. “You just need to give it time,” they all had said. “You’ll get over it.” It’s an easy thing to say if you have no clue what it’s like to lose someone like this.

“The prince seems like a nice guy,” I say, ending the comfortable silence around us.

Tavi scoffs, “yeah I guess.” The tone in her voice tells me that she is not too fond of him. I wonder why that might be.

“You don’t like him?” I ask even though I already know the answer. She had completely frozen up when he approached us during that family reception.

She shakes her head, “no, not really.”

“What about his cousin?” I turn my head a little. I keep my eyes trained on the little rascals running down the hall. I can’t lose them out of sight. They could get lost in this place. How would we ever find them again if that happens?

Her cheeks flush, “what about him?” The smile on her face gives her away. It warms my heart to see her like this, it has been too long and she deserves it.

When Caspar got arrested, he hadn’t been the only thing we lost.

I had lost the meaning of life altogether. Getting out of bed every morning is still a challenge, especially when seeing that the other side of the bed is untouched. It hurts. If it weren’t for my children, I don’t know what would have happened to me.

Tavi had lost her trust in people that day in the court room. Before, she had been such a social girl, always willing to help everyone. But after, the only people she trusted were her closest friends and family. Sometimes.

I reach for her hand, her fingers feel rough against my own skin. She must have continued playing her guitar here. Always striving for perfection.

It has been so quiet in the house without her despite the presence of two young children.

I missed the music she would play on her guitar followed by the occasional shit or fuck whenever she messed up a chord.

I missed the puddles of melting snow she would leave behind around the house, just because she never took of her shoes when coming back home.

I missed the mornings I would find her sleeping on the sofa because she couldn’t make it all the way to her bed after a night out.

I have missed my daughter.

But I know at some point Tavi is going to leave the safety of our home, to start her own life, independent from ours. Just like Daniel had done and just like Aria and Arlan will do some day in the future too.

The hall opens into a space with high ceilings, a wide staircase appearing right in front of us. I notice the hint of a smile on Tavi’s face as her gaze goes over the steps. A good memory perhaps?

“Mom?” Tavi says, as we watch Arlan run around the hallway. Aria is hiding behind one of the flowerpots and when her brother is close enough, she jumps into sight. They both show opposite emotions. Aria is laughing, content with herself that she scared her little brother. Arlan is on the verge of tears, his bottom lip already wobbling. But then he pokes her in the side, causing Aria to bend over. Apparently that was enough to please him because he’s already laughing again.

Kids.

“I think we’re lost.” Tavi chuckles softly. “Well maybe not lost, but we didn’t make it to the playroom.”

And now that she has mentioned it, I realize we were supposed to end in the playroom. The prince had made it sound like a short walk, just around the corner from the room that held the family reception.

“Let’s retrace our steps and start over,” I tell her. This place is very confusing, everything looks the same. And I know my daughter, Tavi is not that good at following directions. “Aria, Arlan! Come here.”

They come running to us right away. They’ve been raised well.

« Back to Tavi’s POV »

We’ve made our way back to the reception room. Okay, now what did that prince say again?

I remember the first part clearly. Take a left outside of the doors.

But the second part is one big blurry memory. Which door was it again? And on which side?

I look to my mom, but she just shrugs. She has no idea either.

Great.

I guess that means I’m going to have to try all the doors then.

The first five doors on the left are all locked. I remember thinking that the directions to the playroom sounded so easy.

The playroom can’t be more than 5 doors away. It just can’t.

I try the other side. The first door opens but to my surprise it’s just a cleaning supply closet. Yeah, definitely not a playroom for kids.

The second door on the right side is locked. What kind of secrets could the royals be hiding behind these doors? Must be something interesting, for them to all be locked. Or perhaps all the rooms are empty.

I open the third door and Arlan pops his head inside first. “Playroom!”

I sigh in relief. Thank god, no more searching. Arlan pushes the door open further and runs in, followed by Aria. I turn to my mom, “I’m sorry, this shouldn’t have taken me this long to find. If only I had listened to …”

She reaches for my hand and squeezes it softly, “Tavi, it’s okay.” She lets go of my hand and walks through the door. “And look they don’t seem to mind either”

I follow her and close the door softly. Aria and Arlan have already found interesting things to play with. Kids. “They could have put up a sign or something. Playroom, this way. That would have made things so much easier.” I sigh. If I had only paid more attention to what the prince was saying. “At least now you got to see …”

“Hi.”

I recognize that voice immediately. It makes me forget what I was even saying to my mom. I turn to find you Hugo standing there. The smile on his face is different from the ones I’ve seen before. He looks a little nervous, perhaps?

“Oh hello,” a smile appears on my face immediately. I can do nothing to stop it.

“How’s your day going?” Hugo glances in a different direction, a smile on his face. When I follow his gaze, I find my siblings sitting on the floor. Aria has all sorts of coloured pencils scattered around her, while Arlan is making vroom vroom sounds as he pushes some little LEGO cars across the floor.

“It has been alright so far, thanks.” I look back at Hugo and tilt my head a little. “How's life for you?” The soft smile on his face as he watches my siblings makes me feel all warm inside. I can’t help but smile myself.

“I’ve been a little bit busy helping my sister move into her new apartment but that’s been fun. How have you been? I’m sure it’s been hectic around here.”

Ah, that explains why I haven’t seen him in the palace lately. I open my mouth to reply, but before I can so much as form a word my mom gasps loudly. I turn my head in the direction of the sound, but she’s already moving in the opposite direction. I quickly turn my head to see where exactly she’s going to.

A new person has entered the room.

What the …

Sunken cheeks and short-shaved hair.

When my mom falls into his arms, tears spill down his cheeks.

I can’t believe my own eyes. He looks different from the way I remember him, but that is still most certainly my dad. A lump forms in my throat, I can’t swallow it down even though I try. My hands start shaking and I feel like I can’t breathe.

He has one arm around my mom, his other arm is still open for me. I run over and his arm closes around me. I rest my head against his shoulder as all the tears I’ve been bottling up for the past 6 years run down my cheeks. There is no use in even trying to stop them, you can’t stop the Niagara Falls either.

Within a second, little arms close around my leg. Aria and Arlan join in on the hug. We are one big emotional mess at this point. My mom is shaking next to me. My dad coming here might have hit her the hardest. She hasn’t seen her husband for 6 years. He tries to soothe her, even when he is having a hard time himself.

My dad doesn’t smell like home anymore, no pinewood and no cinnamon.

His skin looks so fragile, almost the same colour as a piece of paper.

Denbeigh isn’t a province with a lot of sunshine, but our skins look tanned compared to his. It looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in a very long time. 6 years perhaps? He has lost some weight, his cheeks are a little sunken. Same with his eyes. But the warmth and love in his gaze as he looks at us is still there. At least they hadn’t taken that away from him.

I feel the soft pressure of a hand landing on my shoulder, followed by a whisper. “I can step out into the hall to give you some privacy.”

Hugo’s voice reminds me of the prince’s words from earlier.

I think later today Hugo has something planned if that's alright.

Hugo does need to see you in a bit though.

I let go of my family and wiggle out of the tangled mess of arms. “You did this?” Tears are still escaping from my eyes when I turn to look at Hugo. I try to wipe them away, but there’s too many of them and they’re falling way too fast. “This was your plan?”

The tears make my vision go blurry so I can’t really see the expression on his face. But the concern is very present in his voice. “Arin helped make it happen.”

I quickly close the distance between us and wrap my arms around him. “Thank you.” My voice is hoarse and shaky as more tears run down my cheeks. I can’t believe someone would ever do something like this for me and my family.

Hugo’s arms close around me and it’s the nicest feeling in the entire world. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It's okay,” I manage to get out despite the lump still being very present in my throat. There are so many emotions going through me right now. There is sadness as I realize how much I’ve missed my dad. I can still see his body being dragged out of the courtroom. I wasn’t able to do nothing but watch as a guard held me back. But there is also happiness flowing through me. It feels so great to see my dad, to hug him again. To know that he’s still alive.

Hugo keeps hugging me, holding me close until the worst of my shaking is over. When he lets go, I’ve got myself somewhat under control. The Niagara Falls running down my cheeks have dried up. I wipe the last of my tears away. My eyes are probably all puffy and red.

What a sight.

I don’t care.

“Do you want to be alone?” Hugo asks softly. I look up to find him watching my family. Mom is clutching on to my dad’s arm. She is not going to let go of him for the short time they now have together.

One final tear escapes, I reach up and quickly wipe it away. “But you haven't met them yet.” This may very well be the only opportunity for anyone to meet my dad face-to-face. My heart aches at the thought of him being locked up in St. George again. I hope we’ll get another chance to see him in the future.

“Octavia?” It’s the first thing my dad has said since he entered the room. He’s the only person in the world who calls me by my full name. The only exception being the people who called me Lady Octavia, but I had made sure to put an end to that as soon as possible.

Every time someone called me Octavia made me think of my dad and that was just too much to handle.

I go to stand by my dad’s side and he puts an arm around me. Why can’t he stay with us forever? I clear my throat softly, hoping my voice will sound normal again. “This is my dad Caspar, my mom Viola, Aria, and here's Arlan.” I place a hand on my younger brother’s head. His hair is still sticking out in all possible direction from when I had mussed it earlier.

Dad pulls his arm away from where it had been resting on my shoulder and holds his hand out for Hugo to shake. There is a slight hint of hesitation on my dad’s face, like he’s prepared for a rejection.

“I’m Hugo, it’s nice to meet you sir.” I watch them shake hands. The gesture may seem small, but it means a lot to me. And by the way my dad’s shoulders relax, I can tell it also means a lot to him.

He’s a well-known criminal, locked up for murder. I’d understand if people would feel uncomfortable shaking his hand. But Hugo does it anyway, without flinching, without hesitating. My heart swells with happiness.

“Likewise.” Dad reaches for mom’s hand and intertwines their fingers. “I can't thank you enough for doing this for us.”

A couple of weeks ago I had told Brooke that I believe in soulmates. Seeing my parents right here and now, holding hands with their fingers intertwined, is all the proof I need. Even after 6 years of separation, with no face-to-face contact, the love is still there. They are soulmates.

I nod my head in agreement, “same.” I keep my eyes on my parents. My dad is creating little circles on the palm of mom’s hand with his thumb. Her face lights up. There is nothing but love in her eyes when she looks at her husband.

“No thanks is needed. This isn’t about me at all.”

I shake my head, Hugo doesn’t seem to realize just how much this means to any of us. To me. We have been saving money for years, but we are still nowhere near the amount needed for the plane tickets. And now he’s here. “All thanks are needed.”

Dad lets go of mom’s hand and kneels on the floor. Aria and Arlan immediately throw their arms around him. “Look how much you've grown.” The last time he saw them, Aria had been 6 years old and Arlan had been 3.

He hadn’t been there to see them grow up. He had been ripped away from us.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying again. I don’t want to spend the little time we’ve been given with my dad, feeling sad and crying.

A soft touch on my hand distracts me from the feelings trying to drown me again. I look down to find my hand covered by Hugo’s. A small smile appears on my face. Again, such a small gesture, but it gives me the comfort I need.

“I've heard a lot about you, Hugo.” My mom’s words make me blush. What is she insinuating? That I talk about him all the time? Because that is not true. I might have mentioned him a couple of times during our phone calls, but I never gave her many details. “The prince mentioned you a couple of times when we met him. You seem like a good friend for our Tavi.” The smile on her face when she looks at Hugo is genuine.

I feel his head turn in my direction and when I look up, he’s smiling at me. “You've mentioned me? I hope it wasn't about what happened on the stairs.”

It surprises me that he’s bringing this up now. The memory of that day comes back to mind, it makes me laugh. One of my favourite memories of my time here. “Of course not. What would they think of you when they hear about my great victory?”

“What happened on the stairs?” Of course Aria is the one asking for more information. She has always been very nosy. If she hadn’t been born a Five, and if we hadn’t gone through such awful experiences with that specific profession in the past, she would have made a great journalist one day.

“I slid down the bannister with your sister but then I fell.”

From the corner of my eye I see my parents sharing a look. When I turn to them, their expression says it all. What did you do now? But they don’t seem to be disappointed or angry. The corners of my dad’s mouth are slightly curled upwards, while my mom has raised her eyebrows. They are surprised but they seem pleased to hear I’m having some sort of fun here.

Aria’s laughter fills the air, “you fell?” What happened to little miss I like the prince better? She seems to have forgotten about his existence altogether.

“And let's not forget to mention that it was a race and I won.” I tuck some hair behind my ear, smiling brightly. Winning that bannister thing has definitely been my greatest accomplishment here. That does remind me of something else, a minor detail that had somehow slipped from my mind. I turn to Hugo and softly whisper so only he can hear, “you still owe me a song for that by the way.”

Hugo laughs, a sound I will never get enough of. He whispers back, “I don’t think you’ll ever let me forget.” He turns to my parents, his voice at a normal intensity again. “She beat me before I fell.”

I can’t help but whisper something back. “I will remind you for as long as you'll keep me around.”

When I focus back on my family again, my dad is smiling at me. It’s nice to see him in a good mood, like he’s forgetting about the jail situation for a minute. I smile back but then my attention goes to my younger siblings. Aria nudges Arlan with her elbow before looking up at mom. “Can we do it too?”

Arlan clutches onto mom’s leg, “mom please?”

She looks down at the two of them. She also has a smile on her face. This is such a good day for the Hayes family. She softly bops each of them on their noses. “Maybe another time, okay?”

Aria and Arlan look a bit upset, but thankfully they don’t cause a scene.

A soft whisper only meant for my ears, “it’s okay, I’ll win next time.” As if. And then he says to my younger siblings. “The banisters aren’t going anywhere, don’t worry.” My heart might actually melt.

I shake my head to emphasize my whispered words, “no you won't.”

“Tavi.” When I turn to look up at him, I notice the hint of a blush on his face. “They're looking at us.” He murmurs the words, but I get the message loud and clear.

Indeed, when I look at my parents, I find their eyes on us. “Oh,” I take a small step away from Hugo, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable in any way. He literally just met my parents.

Arlan and Aria appear to be in the middle of a poking competition. I know how this is going to end, one of them will be upset while the other is feeling content. Mom knows it too. She breaks them up before they can hurt each other. “I think we may need to go entertain these rascals.”

My dad words my very thoughts. “Before this ends in tears.”

Arlan looks up at my mom, the poking competition with his sister has already been forgotten. He pats her on the knee. “Can we go do something fun now?”

Mom bops him softly on his nose. “Yes honey, we're going now.”

That’s all the information my siblings needed. They share a look and start running towards the door. Aria is the first to arrive and she sticks out her tongue at Arlan. “You're the loser now.” Kids.

“It was a pleasure meeting you.” My dad says as he reaches for my mom’s hand, intertwining their fingers again. I can only wish to find a love like theirs one day.

“You as well, sir.” And to my mom, Hugo says, “it was nice to meet you too.” That earns him a smile from her.

My dad’s eyes land on me, “Octavia, are you coming with us?” He raises an eyebrow, “or are you staying here?”

I feel my cheeks heat up again, understanding fully well what he’s insinuating. Staying here with Hugo. I shake my head quickly, “no no, I'm coming with you.” But not yet. “One second though.”

My mom chuckles softly as she pulls dad with her towards to the door. I turn to Hugo, “thank you, really. I don't know how I can ever repay you for this.”

This is by far the nicest and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me and my family. It means the absolute world to me.

He watches my parents leave. As soon as the door falls shut, he reaches for my hand. “You never have to. Your happiness is all I could ask for.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Or maybe both. At the same time. I look down, his hand has closed around mine. “I'll be grateful forever.”

“Forever is a long time.”

Those words make me question whether I said the wrong thing. I didn’t mean to make it sound like literally forever. I meant it just to show how much today means to me and that I will never forget about it. But I still feel like I said something wrong, so instead I go for a bit of a lighter tone. “Remember what I said about the afterlife? How my ghost is going to find your ghost to talk about the bannister thing?” I stop talking, trying to order my thoughts. I’m rambling and perhaps whatever I’m saying doesn’t make any sense. I need to get to my point. “My ghost will also remind you of how thankful I am.”

He laughs and relief floods over me, at least he understands that I was joking. “I hope that’s a promise.” Or maybe not?

I tear my gaze away from our hands and look up instead. The soft smile on Hugo’s face makes me forget how to talk. My mind goes absolutely blank. “Really?” My voice is barely more than a whisper.

He squeezes my hand and it reminds me that this is really happening. It’s not a dream. “Really. I promise.”

The smile on my face keeps growing bigger and bigger. I didn’t think it was possible for one person to make me feel this happy, but here we are. “Hugo.” I bring my free hand up and tuck some hair behind my ear. “I like you.” A lot. I swallow that last bit down. It’s stupid to even bring this up with the selection going on and that contract and treason. But I know in my heart that what is true.

“I like you too.” His voice is a whisper and I wonder if I even heard him correctly. But the soft expression on his face supports the words I think I’ve heard. “And I like seeing you happy,” he adds as his eyes go to the ground.

My heart starts racing and I feel like crying again. But this time it’s not a combination of sadness and happiness. No. If I’d allow myself to cry right now, it would only be happy tears. But if I start crying now, I might never stop. “You cause most of my happiness.” I keep quiet for a second, giving myself the opportunity to realize what is happening. “You deserve to be happy too.”

Hugo looks back up at me again, searching my face for something. I can only blink, having no clue what it is he’s looking for. “Right now I've never been happier.”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek as the intense urge to kiss him fills my entire body. I really want to kiss him. But the one thing I want more is for him to kiss me first this time. I keep biting down on my cheek, that spot will be sensitive for a couple of days now. When I feel like I’ve got myself under control, I allow myself to speak. “I'm glad to hear that.”

He squeezes my hand, then softly says, “I wish I could capture the way your eyes light up when you're happy.”

I didn’t know my eyes did that. No one has ever mentioned it before, or maybe that’s because I can’t remember the last time I had truly felt happy. And the happiness surging through me now is a feeling I’ve never felt before. I chuckle softly, not really knowing what to say to that. I’m not used to these kind words. “Maybe you should take a mental picture then.”

Hugo squeezes my hand once again, “I already have.”

These 3 words cause an error in my brain and I don’t know what to say. My face heats up right away, turning bright red. That must be such a wonderful sight to see. I take a little step closer to Hugo and when I’m close enough I rest my head against his chest. “I don't know how to respond to that.”

He lets go of my hand and wraps his arms around me. “It’s okay, you don’t have to. This right here is enough.”

I like this, being here with him. I feel warm and appreciated and safe and all because of him. Any tension in body disappears, my muscles relax and I let out a breath. I don’t want this moment to end. But then I remember my parents, who are probably still waiting for me just outside of that door. “I should probably go and entertain my family.” I don’t move though, I’m not ready for this to end.

Hugo nods his head. I don’t see it, but I can feel the slightest movement of his body as his head goes up and down. The words he says don’t match his actions. “Will you wait just a little longer?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” I chuckle softly. What’s another few minutes. And besides, my mom and dad get some nice one-on-one time now that I’m distracted elsewhere. Though that also depends on what Aria and Arlan are doing but, knowing them, they’re probably running around the hallways.

He huffs a laugh. “I don’t think there’s another way to ask. Especially when it comes to you.”

There are many ways to ask actually. All with a different vibe hidden behind the words, but I don’t point it out. I put my arms around him instead, holding on tight. “What do you mean? Especially when it comes to me?”

Hugo laughs a little, “I just don’t think there’s another way to ask. How could anyone every consider being anything but nice to you?”

“I can name a few people.” And right on top of that list would be the wonderful prince Arin. He had not been nice to me with his awful words. And I had not been nice to him when I had aimed that paintball gun at him, still hurt by what he had said during the car ride. Perhaps if I didn’t hold grudges like that, my life would be so much more enjoyable. I sigh, “but I haven't been the nicest to them either, even if some of them deserved it.” There were also a lot of people who hadn’t deserved my yelling. Leana for example. I had pushed my pride aside and apologized to her and now I might even consider her a friend.

“We all have our moments. No one is perfect.”

“I'd like to believe that yes.” I let go of Hugo a little when I realize just how tight I’ve been hugging him. “But I have those not-so-nice-moments at times.” Though I must admit that I haven’t been in a bad mood at all recently. I wonder why that might be?

“Not every moment has to be good.” He steps away a bit. “If anything the bad moments just make the good moments feel more special.”

“Yeah okay,” I nod my head a little, wanting to close this new distance between us. “I guess you have a point.”

Hugo reaches up and brushes some hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. My heart is racing again. “And right now is a good moment.”

I look up at him and my eyes lock with his. I feel so many things all at once. But I’m sure of one thing: today might very well be the best day of my life. “Hmmm I'm not so sure it's a good one to be honest.”

He raises his eyebrows and for a short moment there is concern in his eyes before he realizes I’m joking. “What would make it better?”

“Hmm,” I pretend to think about it, even when I already know my answer. I shrug instead, “I don’t know.” I have to bite down on my lip to supress the strong wanting to kiss him. I might very well repeat what happened during the ball if I don’t stop myself.

But I actually want him to kiss me first now.

A little blush spreads all over his face. He leans down and kisses my cheek gently.

When he pulls back again, I poke his chest softly with my finger. “Hm interesting.” I don’t know how I manage to keep my voice this calm, because there is utter chaos inside of me. I feel anything but calm. “All of a sudden the moment becomes a little bit better.”

Hugo lets out a small laugh. “I try my best.”

Hearing his laugh again makes me smile. I stand up on my tiptoes, no longer able to stop myself from kissing him. But then in the last moment, the destination changes and my kiss lands on his cheek.

When I stand down on the floor again, I look up at him. Hugo’s eyes have gone wide and he’s not moving at all. He looks like a statue. The sight of him makes me laugh, “what?”

His face turns a little bit more red. “I just wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

“Oh,” I raise my eyebrows playfully. “You didn't like it?”

The smile he gives me is a little bashful, but I like it. He looks so cute. “No, I liked it.”

“Okay, I will keep that in mind then.” I’m having a very hard time controlling myself, I don’t know why I even try. I just want to kiss him.

I softly poke his chest 4 times.

Please.

Kiss.

Me.

Now.

He leans down, placing another kiss on my cheek. When he pulls away, he has a weird expression on his face. I try to read it, but I can’t. I raise my eyebrows at him as I’m trying to make sense of the look he’s giving me. “What's that face?”

Hugo doesn’t reply. Instead he leans down again. I’m prepared for another kiss on the cheek but then his lips find mine. It surprises me but in a good way.

My hands stay on his chest as I kiss him back. I can feel his heartbeat right under my hand. Or maybe I’m wrong and it’s my own heart as it continues beating, the frequency increasing with every second that passes. I close my hands and gently pull him closer to me by the soft fabric of his shirt.

Hugo’s hands go up to cup my cheeks, holding me in place. As if I would go anywhere. Besides to the floor maybe if the muscles in my legs decide to go mushy.

But there honestly is no place I’d rather be right now.

He lowers one of his hands to my neck, while the other stays where it is.

His fingers softly touch the skin in my neck, sending a new sensation through my entire body.

He pulls away and that is probably for the better because I need to catch my breath. My heart continues thundering in my chest. “See, now that was a good moment.” I open my hands to let go of his shirt. The fabric is now wrinkled where my hands had been just a minute ago. I try to smooth it over, willing the wrinkles to disappear.

“Like all the moments I've had with you. Even when I fell,” he says, laughing a bit breathlessly.

The memory comes back. I had been an amateur without any experience. I had risked my life when sliding down that bannister. Yet somehow I had survived without a scratch. The same couldn’t be said about the supposed expert. I shake my head a little, laughing softly at the memory. “How was that a good moment?”

“We found your iPod, didn't we?” Hugo shrugs.

“Correction: you found my iPod. I thought you had gone crazy and you were seeing things that weren't really there.”

A weird grimace appears on his face, one I can’t quite place. “Maybe, but if it hadn't been for you I wouldn't have slid down the bannister in the first place.”

I poke his chest softly again, right above the still wrinkled fabric. “You were the one to challenge me to do that.”

He nods, “yeah, I was. But I think I learned my lesson.”

I drop my hands, letting my arms rest by my side. I fidget the fabric of my dress between my fingers. “No more bannister sliding for you?”

“Well, not after I let your brother and sister beat me at it.” Hugo raises his eyebrows at me.

My heart melts quicker than the sun could melt a snowman. I didn’t think he would have remembered that part of the conversation. Or that he would be willing to do that for my siblings. “Really?”

“Yes,” he nods his head. “It's frowned upon to beat children.”

Oh. Is it frowned upon to beat children? Whenever I play boardgames with Aria and Arlan, I never let them win. Maybe it’s because I’m a pretty competitive person and I always want to win myself. I prefer to lose a fair and honest game than to win because someone else lets me win.

I shake my head, because that wasn’t what I meant. “I didn't realize you would actually do that for them. And just so you know, they're very much like me. They will never shut up about their grand victory.” Aria legit brings up the times she beat me at Uno even though that has happened months ago.

“Well, I can admire their dedication I guess.” His eyes shift to something behind me. The door. “I think our just-a-little-longer is up.”

“Yeah you're probably right.” I turn to look at the door. I have no clue how long they have been waiting for me, but I do know it’s been longer than the one second I promised. “I should go.”

Hugo takes a step away from me, creating a distance between us. “Have fun for me?”

“Of course.” A smile appears on my face immediately. “Thank you. For everything.” I don’t think I will ever stop saying those words.

He smiles at me in return, a sparkle in his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Tavi.”

I turn and head for the door. Once I’ve reached it, I look back at Hugo one more time. “Bye.”

He raises his hand to wave, murmuring a bye in return.

I open the door and quickly slip out of the playroom, softly closing the door behind me. To my surprise the only one in the hallway waiting for me is Aria. She has mischievous grin on her face. “Where are mom and dad?” I ask her.

“Dad wanted some fresh air, so they went to the gardens.” She keeps smirking at me, “you said one second. But you were in there for at least 15 minutes. What were you doing?”

I start walking in the direction of the big entry hall. Maybe if I’m quick enough, Aria will be so busy trying to keep up that she forgets to ask questions. “Nothing, just thanking him for bringing dad here.”

My plan doesn’t work. My younger sister is practically running but that doesn’t seem to bother her, she can keep up with me quite easily. “That’s not what I heard.”

I grab her by her arm and force her to stop walking, turning her in such a way that she’s facing me. “You were eavesdropping?” Oh god, did she listen to everything? Did she hear everything?

She narrows her eyes, the smirk is still on her face. She purses her lips and makes multiple kissing sounds.

“Aria!” I glance around the hallway. If someone hears her, I might be in big trouble. I let go of Aria’s arm and start walking again, trying to remove myself from this situation.

“Tavi and Hugo sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S …”

My cheeks heat up, “Aria, shut it!”

She doesn’t listen to me. “… I-N-G!”

I throw in a desperate attempt to keep her quiet. “I will tell everyone about what you wrote in your diary if you don’t stop.” The truth is I had only read a few pages and not the entire thing, but she doesn’t need to know that now.

Aria crosses her arms, scoffing. But when I look in her direction, I notice her eyes have gone a little bigger and there is a hint of fear there. “That was private.”

I raise my eyebrows at her. She doesn’t seem to realize that she had been eavesdropping on a private matter too. But she does keep quiet now for which I’m glad. Though I’m sure this isn’t the last I’ve heard of it. She will definitely bring it up later again, but that’s a problem for future me.

We find the rest of our family outside, enjoying the beautiful flowers on this warm summer day.

“Can we go to the beach?”

We spend the rest of the day on the beach, enjoying the salty air. Aria and Arlan have taken off their shoes. They’re jumping over the waves.

Dad shows us his gun shot wound. It hasn’t healed nicely at all, he’ll have to live with that ugly scar forever.

“How did they get a gun inside?” I ask. It makes no sense to me. I thought prisons are supposed to have strict security protocols and a gun is not something you can smuggle in very easily.

“One of the officers got paid by an inmate to bring in all sorts of contraband.” There is worry in his eyes. “Drugs, cigarettes, cell phones, and guns.”

And that is supposed to be a maximum-security prison. I don’t know how my dad survived 6 years in that place. A lump forms in my throat as the realization hits me that he might not make it till the end of his sentence. Especially with those corrupted officers there. It sounds like hell.

I run my fingers through the warm sand. “Did they find that officer?”

Dad nods his head, “They did. Even started an internal investigation. Four other officers got fired as well. They forced inmates to deal drugs for them.”

I let out a breath. There is so much going wrong in this country. If only someone would do something about it.

For some time, the only sound we hear is the crashing of the waves as they wash up on the beach and the screeching of seagulls as they fly high above us in the sky. We watch Arlan fall face first into the water, his clothes completely soaked. Mom gets up to see if he’s okay. When she gets close to him, Arlan starts splashing water at her. Her laugh fills the air as she splashes water at him back.

I grab something out of my pocket. Something I keep with me at all times now, in fear of losing it again. I untangle the earphones and then hold them out to my dad. “Want to hear some of my band’s music?”

Five Whispers, our band, has been together for a little over 3 years now. But with my dad being gone, he has never heard us play. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He puts the earphones in as I switch on my iPod. I scroll through the list of albums until I find our own one. I select the first song, Back to Yesterday. It’s a song about wanting to go back to the happy moments in your past. Reliving those joyful memories over and over again.

I watch my dad as he listens to the song. He bobs his head on the beat. When the song ends, he looks over at me and he is silent for a second, tears in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Octavia. Look at all that you’ve achieved.”

Hearing him say those words, breaks something inside me. A tear falls down my cheek. I quickly reach up to wipe it away.

The next song starts playing, Toothpicks and Whiskey. This one is about friendship, how unusual things sometimes just work together. I think of my best friends, Lola and Gina. My bandmembers, Felix, Gill and Bjorn. I miss them all so much.

“Great bass riff,” my dad says as he puts his arm around my shoulders. “How long did it take you to master it?”

“Long!” I laugh at the memory of so many frustrations as I kept messing it up. I was so close to throwing my guitar out of a window. But I had kept going. Trying time and time again, until the muscles in my arms were so sore, I could barely move them anymore.

We spend the rest of the day at the beach. Talking, listening to more music, or just simply enjoying each other’s company.

Why can’t we stay like this forever?

Why does my dad have to leave again?

*****

I find myself in the library with a collection of law books piled on the table in front of me. My family is still here but given that my mom and dad also haven’t seen each other in 6 years I feel like they deserve some privacy. I left Arlan and Aria in the playroom on my way to the library. It’s all they seemed to care about anyway.

Now that my dad is here and he has told some stories about life in prison, my motivation to help him has quadrupled. He really needs to get out of that place. I don’t know how he would survive the remainder of his sentence. Another 39 years.

I’ve read the same sentence at least 5 times now, but the words still don’t make any sense. Why can’t these authors, or whoever puts these books together, write clear descriptions, instead of all these difficult and confusing words. What’s the point of writing books if no one is going to understand anything in the text?

“Hello! Octavia, is it?”

I quickly place a finger on the confusing sentence I had just been reading. When I look up an unknown man is standing near my table, his hands behind his back. There is a polite smile on his face.

“Uhm yeah. Hi?”

The man seems friendly enough, though I can’t say I’ve ever seen his face before. He extends a hand towards me. “Aran Jacobson, Reggie's uncle?” Reggie? Reggie? Oh right, Leana’s friend. “Sorry if I'm interrupting.”

“Oh it's okay.” I shake his hand. “Can I help you with something?”

He smiles again, shaking his head. “No, not really.” His gaze lands on the pile of books in front of me. “I just never know if I should warn people against getting into law, or not.”

“Oh,” I raise my eyebrows in curiosity. “Why would people need to be warned for that?” I can think of a couple of reasons, especially after everything that happened with my dad. I feel like the law was stretched a little thin when he got arrested that day in the court room. Or perhaps the judge found some loopholes he could use to his own advantage.

“It's just more fun on TV, trust me.” Mister Jacobson chuckles a little. He tilts his head, “but you're the musician right?”

I blink at him in surprise. I mean I guess he’s right, I just wasn’t aware that my entire existence can be summarized in two single words. The musician. “I guess I am the musician, yeah.” I shake my head a little as I continue speaking, “no career switch, I'm just trying to expand my knowledge.” I pat the pile of books I’ve collected. Some dust flies upwards as my hand comes down on the covers.

Mister Jacobson clears his throat. “I happen to be a lawyer myself. Mostly Pro Bono cases lately...” Oh. Oh. “I hope you don't mind me bringing it up, but I read about your father.” The smile he gives me is sympathetic. “I'm sorry that happened.”

“Oh.” I look down at the law books. This is not a situation I want to be in. Firstly, because the man is a lawyer. I can hear the rejections from all the lawyers back in Denbeigh again as they pointed us to the door. Helping you would hurt our reputation. Or it’s no use fighting a battle that’s already lost. And secondly because he mentions my dad. I don’t know what he has read but it couldn’t have been pretty. “Yeah.”

He pulls a chair out and sits down. “Is it alright if I ask a couple questions?”

I let out a breath. “Why?” The pages of the book move a little as I run my fingers over it. The paper is so smooth. No tears. No wrinkles.

“Well, I read the case. And some things didn't quite... add up.”

I look back up again. Some things didn’t quite add up. Could this man possibly be on my side? My dad’s side? “Like what?”

Mister Jacobson bobs his head. “Like, there was no trail. He just happened to be in the courtroom for an unrelated case. Not to mention there's no note of any reason why he should be located so far away.”

The things he’s saying, his words, are exactly what I’ve been wondering about for years now. I could never make sense of any of it all. And people had not been the most willing to help me. “No one wanted to tell me why he had to go to St. George, I've asked so many people.”

He frowns at that, “I see.” Something about his expression changes, “does he have a lawyer?”

I shake my head, feeling a little embarrassed. I’m aware that the first step, and probably the most important one, would be to hire a lawyer. But that was easier said than done. “No, he doesn't have one.”

I watch mister Jacobson as his hand goes to his pocket. When his hand comes back to the table, there is something in it. A business card. He smiles a little as he holds it out to me. “I would love to help.”

Why would anyone want to help us? Especially now. After 6 years. I don’t understand. I take his little card anyway and flip it over in my hand. “Really?”

“I won't make false promises, yet I think it's at least possible to get him relocated closer by.”

I close my hand around the card, I’m never going to let go of this. “That would already mean a lot.” A transfer. While I don’t know what the other prisons in Illéa are like, I’m sure they can’t be worse than the hell hole they have been holding him in for the past 6 years. A transfer would also mean my family would get the opportunity to go visit him. Perhaps that would make the remainder of his sentence a little more bearable.

“Good.” When I look back up again, mister Jacobson is smiling. “Then I suggest you discuss it with your family, or legal guardian,” he nods to his business card in my hand, “before giving me a call or sending me a message.” His expression turns a little more serious. “Then we can go over the files, the options,” his gaze goes to my pile of law books, “and any personal notes you might have.”

I’m not sure my personal notes would make much of a difference. “Okay, thank you.” A small smile appears on my face. I can’t believe there is finally someone willing to help us.

He pushes himself up from the chair. “I'll hear from you then.” He smiles at me kindly. Perhaps not all lawyers are insensitive assholes. “Good luck, Octavia.” A second later he snaps his fingers, quite a loud sound in the silent library. “And see you at dinner of course!”

“Thank you again.” I bring one hand up and tuck some hair behind my ear. “Enjoy the rest of your stay here.”

“Likewise.” He nods a goodbye with a polite smile on his face before he turns to leave.

I focus back on the book laying open in front of me, I’ve lost the part I had been reading before mister Jacobson arrived. My left hand is still closed around his business card.

He probably has no idea that he has just given me one of the greatest gifts of all time.

A glimmer of hope.

((All credits go to Anna, bringing Tavi’s dad to the palace was her idea!!!))

#selectionoc #challenge 6 #fic

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runeiisms · 4 years

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hi hello everyone !! i’m h , i haven’t been roleplaying for almost a year so apologies if i seem rusty ( that’s bc i am , lol ) ! i won’t be joining the dc server since group chats make me nervous but please feel free to hit me up to plot , or just give this post a ♡ and i’ll come say hi when i can ( which’ll probably be tomorrow morning since it’s almost midnight for me and i have the sleeping schedule of an old lady - or a baby ) !!

« lalisa manoban. female. she/her. » — ruthai sion just accepted the offer from impact and will be heading to the airport soon. rune is a twenty-two year old from seoul, south korea who creates conspiracy videos on youtube. when they’re not making videos they enjoy pulling pranks on friends and doing research and they dislike sharing too much personal details about herself. their subscribers will tell you they’re joyous, while their haters will tell you they’re unstable. a room that is completely dark except for the glow of a computer screen, a face with dark circles, a wide, lying smile and eyes devoid of light, and watching the stars through a blurry window.

THE BASICS

full name: ruthai sion

age: 22

zodiac: gemini

gender: cis female

pronouns: she/her

ethnicity: thai

nationality: south korea

mbti: entp

hogwarts: slytherin

orientation: bisexual & biromantic with a lean for women

language(s) spoken: thai , korean , english , and a little chinese

height: 5′ 6″

weight: 103 lbs

BACKGROUND

alright so !! i’ll try to keep this short bc i’m sleepy and i feel like if i let myself ramble i’ll have to deal with a million typos and grammar mistakes tomorrow dfgfd ( edit : i have failed )

rune was born into a very poor family ; an alcoholic single mom , a little sister who she had to take care of considering their mom was only interested in them when it came to snatching some money from their absent dad ( which , surprise , she spent on alcohol ) so ... yeah, your classic tragic backstory , haha ... ha ...

anyways it’d be cool if it all ended there but APPARENTLY i won’t rest until i make my characters suffer more ?? oh well .

rune would often escape from home in order to work at several places and bring food to her little sister . one time , a person she met during one of her escapades came to her with an offer . you see , this person was like an older brother figure for rune and he was looking for a way to get her out of that house - he offered to teach her how to hack , which’d take time , but if she learned well he could get her a position in the agency he works for . rune spent years reading books about computers , programming and such , having lessons from that guy , while also working her jobs but eventually she got much better at hacking than the guy predicted .

though she had to cut ties with her sister while working for the agency , so she had to leave her alone for a year while she tried to get enough money to find her a house where she could handle all the legal requirements and keep an eye on her while also ,,, staying away from her . rune still blames herself for leaving her alone with their mom for a year but eventually she got to make her plan happen , although it came with the cost of having her sister ( rightfully , if you asked rune ) resent her .

she spent years working in the agency under an anonymous nickname while trying to keep the persona of ‘rune’ in real life , although she never dared to get too close to anyone , scared of putting them in danger somehow .

however , being a good hacker came with the perks of being able to erase any and all suspicious traces of her online , so rune was able to start her youtube channel where she could make money , talk to people , and all without the risks of getting close to them .

eventually , with the help of the older brother figure i mentioned earlier , she was able to quit the agency . she still does jobs that specifically require her skillset from time to time ( because lbh , it wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of them ) but since her online personality got more and more famous in years , everyone is aware of the risks of what’d happen if people found out , so she very rarely gets jobs at this point .

more about her channel !! rune loves , LOVES all the fantastic , dreamy concepts which includes everything from aliens and fairies to ghosts and myths , so she does several activities in her channel such as talking about myths and dressing up as the creature in the topic of that day’s video ( she even cosplayed big foot once , she just loves cosplaying ) and going ghost-hunting in the craziest places .

rune still sends half the money she earns from her channel to her sister , who still refuses to talk to her ( even if they’re finally able to ) .

there’s two versions of rune ; the jokester who’s energetic and almost overly enthusiastic . she displays a happy-go-lucky, outgoing, and very bizarre personality in front of other people and especially in front of the camera . she also likes playing pranks on her friends and making fun of them - all in good fun , of course . and , yeah , sarcasm is her BIGGEST defense mechanism .

however , the other version , the version rune believes to be the ‘real’ her ( and hates herself for it ) is the exact opposite . behind the humorous front she puts up , rune is actually quite depressed and serious , and she refuses to believe that anything good can happen to her due to everything she has done in the past . due to all the trauma she went through and having constant fear most of her life ( until the recent few years ) rune believes that not letting people get close is the safest way for everyone , maybe there’s no longer a danger worth mentioning , but she still gets these warning sirens in her head whenever she lets someone see too much of her , or when she gets just a bit too close to people . she has friends , she even has friends who she’d consider ‘close’ , but they’re close to the wall she puts around herself - not to the person behind the wall .

also !! rune has adhd , although she’s never been diagnosed and isn’t completely aware of it / doesn’t care enough to dig into it . ( and since i’m v paranoid when it comes to these stuff i just wanna say that i’ve been diagnosed with adhd so ik what i’m doing , you don’t have to worry !! )

she’s also always curious to learn the strangest and most absurd things and coming up with even crazier ideas ( like trying to build robots ) .

#impact.intro #sorry in advance for all the mistakes !!#abuse mention tw #alcoholism tw #depression tw #hacking tw #idk if this is how i should tag it but-

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ikenbar · 4 years

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Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice

Author’s note:

This story is one of my own OC for the game Mr. Love: A Queen’s Choice. Except for Ike and her family, all the characters belong to the creators of Mr. Love: A Queen’s Choice. This fan fiction will contain spoilers for the game so, if you haven’t played it yet or are not caught up to Chapter 18 in the game, this is your warning. (Though it will take me quite a while to get to any sort of spoiler and I will mark it as such when it comes to it so you have time :P) This is merely a fan fiction of the game containing my own character and her story. None of this is cannon. All that said, Mr. Love is such an amazing game. It’s so much more than just some Otome mobile game. Its story is intriguing, and the gameplay is addicting in the best possible way. The development team are so respondent and understanding and honestly just want you to enjoy their game. I have! And I will! And I plan to show how much I do through this Fan fiction! I’m honestly just here for a good time so let’s have fun! Right? I plan on posting on Wednesday/Thursdays so stay tuned!! I want to show you guys the world I have been making for so long and my love for this game. So, let's get started, shall we? :D

Warnings: Talk of death (it’s just talk. There’s no real death. More like existential dread), Talk of abuse (this is just character development. It’s not an angst I swear), Grammar mistakes (I tried cleaning this the best I can but I may have missed somethings. I’m sorry ^^;), fluff, and cliffhangers. A lot of them. Prepare for one heck of a story

Chapter one:

Part one:

There is no such thing as a good way to die. Death is death. There is absolutely no way death could be justified. But that is the last thing you are thinking when it is your life that is at risk. The first thing of course being, “I hope he doesn’t miss me.”

>>>

It was hard to believe that I had been working as a producer for Ike ’n Bar Production Company for nearly two years now. I founded this company alongside my foster father, Bartholomew Schmidt. Bart had an opportunity to create something. Something that would bring love and entertainment to children and adults alike. Something that would bless the world with its presence.... He couldn’t make it past week one, so he called me in.

I am not one that wavers from the facts. There is a place for everything in this world and I do my best to put everything in that place. I didn’t spend four years of my life studying the answers of the world to be creative. So, when Bart turned to me for help with his new show idea, I was more than reluctant to help.

“Come on.” He begged wrapping his hands around each other, “They won’t let me pitch the idea until the plot holes are fixed. You’re the only person I know who will tell me exactly what is wrong without sparing my feelings!”

“Your TV show idea is a waste of my time.” I deadpanned.

“See?!” Bart stared at me with pleading eyes, “Just read the pitch... please?” After a couple minutes of awkward silence to finally cave. I read it over once. Then twice. Then a third time. I still had no idea what the show was about.

“So, let me get this straight.” I sighed, “It is a sitcom about a teenage girl, who happens to be an alien, living her life as a normal teenager.” Bart nodded excitedly. “But her family and friends have no idea what she is. And she has to keep the powers secret because… reasons.”

“See?!” Bart laughed, “You get it! For some reason the network thought it was confusing.”

“...I’m going to say this, and I want you to keep an open mind.” I handed the pitch back to Bart, “The show stinks. We are scrapping this idea and coming up with a new one.”

“Oh come-...we?”

“There is no way you are going to make it through this business alive without me. So, let’s talk about an idea that isn’t overused and unoriginal and actually has some taste.”

“.... Did you just hire yourself on my team?”

“Yes. Do you have a pen and paper on you? Someone should be taking notes.”

The new show we had pitched to the network was a hit. A sitcom about a family of robbers evading the police. They are trying to have a normal life as they live on the lamb. We called it, Show Me the Honey. Sending our average amount of views over fifty thousand. We worked on that show as we pitched others and made a name for ourselves and the company. Since I wasn’t one for limelight, Bart took care of the field work as I worked as the co-head of Ike ’n Bar Productions from behind a screen and in my office.

Things were just the way they should be. With me out of the way. Maybe if things stayed that way, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I could be at that desk right now. Working on the next show. Calling on my assistant for a coffee. Telling off the latest intern for screwing up the order of the files. I could even hear my father’s voice again as he calls me with updates from the field. But sadly, all good things must come to an end. This end started with one name. Victor.

“Victor?”

I repeated to Bart over the phone, stalling my note taking on the pad next to me. I was at my office that Monday afternoon. The sun was shining through the window behind me and onto my large, glass, desk. The sunlight reflected off my screen and into my eyes, causing my already rotten mood to worsen.

“Yes!” He excitedly sang, “You have an interview with him today at three!”

“That’s in two hours.”

“Right!”

“...Bart. This man is the CEO of LFG.”

“Correct!”

“Loveland Financial Group.”

“Wow, Ike! You’ve sure got this down!”

“...OK hold on, you want me to go to the head of the largest leading investor in all of Loveland and ask him for funding on a TV show that hasn’t even been green lighted yet?! And you want me to prepare for it in under two hours.”

“Oh, come on. Saying it that way makes it sound bad.” Bart pouted. “Miracle Writer is going to be a hit! And we are a well-known company! It's not like we are asking too much from them! Just a little something to start us off. Besides I already told him that my amazing co-head, Ike, was going to be meeting him so there is no backing out now.”

“Bart, why aren’t you going? Aren’t interviews your thing?”

“They are but… I’ve heard some ghost stories about Victor.”

“Ghost stories?” I skeptically muttered as I held my throbbing head in my hands.

“I hear he tends to be… stubborn when it comes to funding companies.” Bart said this in a low voice as if Victor would appear behind him to overhear his words.

“Oh, and you’re informing me about this now instead of a few days prior so I could prepare for such an important interview with him. Makes sense.”

“Ike, I know it’s a little out of nowhere-”

“A little?!” I scoffed lifting my head back up and pulling my bushy brown hair out of my eyes as I arched my eyebrows uselessly to the receiver.

“But just hear me out, ok?” Bart pleaded helplessly. I stayed silent. Bart continued, “Victor is known to be brash. He rarely, if ever, smiles. In fact, his poker face is known to strike fear into even the strongest of soldiers. He yells more often then he praises. His stance towers over most people and it sends a level of power that is like none you have ever seen. But most importantly, he is extremely close minded when it comes to lending his money. So, it would need to take a strong headed and strong-minded person to get through to him. To make him see that they are worth every dollar of his-”

“And you want me to do the interview because he reminds you of me.”

“Man, I can’t get anything past you.”

Bart had a point. I have a tough time with my emotions. Let alone other people’s. I am known to be inscrutable in the office and outside of it. In my defense, my tactless rule over the office is why everything runs smoothly. No one second guesses my commands and, if they do, it would result in an outcome that could only ignite more fear towards me. Besides, showing no emotions trains the mind to adapt and overcome the words of others. Which helps suggesting the amount of words the office has to say about me narrows down to about four letters.

The main reason I don’t mind it all though is because Bart is loved in the office. His bright and fun-loving attitude is a refreshment for everyone there. They all welcome him in with open arms and follow his every word with preciseness. He is so soft with them and normally brings free lunches for the office when he visits. Of course, all that sweet talk makes him a doormat when it comes to asking for things from him, but no one would take advantage of that. And get away with it that is.

Bart can barely talk to me without cowering under my intensity when we are face to face. I can’t imagine what Victor would do to him. He’d probably chew him up and eat him alive.

“Fine.” I caved, “If I’m doing this, I need to start working now. So, I have to go.”

“Ikamara Bikira, you are a lifesaver!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!”

I groaned slightly as I hung up the phone. Interviews made me uncomfortable. How do you start it off? Do you need to make small talk? Would it be rude to just jump into the subject at hand? Should you address people by their first name or something a little more formal? Do I need to smile the whole time? Or should I be serious from beginning to end? I rubbed my temples to soothe my growing headache.

“That man is going to be the death of me.” I muttered under my breath. Though this isn’t the first time he has thrown me under the bus, I owed him my life. He and his wife, Maria, were the first foster family to take me in and want to keep me. I had been through five foster homes before theirs and I had the scars to prove it. I rubbed my arm as I recalled the memories. The first home sent me to a sort of bootcamp. The second home neglected me. Third home gave me too much of the wrong kind of attention. Fourth home made me lose parts of myself. Including feeling in my left arm and my voice. And the fifth home... Snapping back to reality, I smoothed out the sleeves to my shirt and saved the sad excuse of a report on my computer. I can’t let Bart down. It’s just an interview. I can do this. I reached into the cabinet next to my desk for papers on out new show “Miracle Writer” and a couple pods of Advil.

Stuck in traffic, I impatiently tapped at the handles of my motorbike. Normally traffic at that time wasn’t too bad but for some reason, we were at a standstill. Unable to rub away my ever-increasing headache, I looked impatiently down the line of cars ahead of me. They were stalled at one stoplight. Even though the light was green on our side, the road was blocked by another line of cars ahead of them. Keeping the car in front of me in my peripherals, I unzipped my leather jacket and pulled my phone from inside my blazer. I opened my moments and checked trending. “Super Star, Kiro, Signs New Albums at The New Light Mall.” So that’s why traffic is so horrible. The line of cars blocking the road must be the line of fans heading to the New Light Mall. I looked enviously at the line. Though immensely irritating, I would kill to be a part of that line if it meant I got to meet Kiro.

Kiro was an inordinately talented superstar. The spunky blond-haired, teal eyed man was very popular among teens and adults alike. He was an idol among millions for his talents. Which varied from acting to singing to dancing to even fashion. It seems like this young boy was too good to be real. Many believed he had the superpower to woo people with one glance. I, of course, found this difficult to believe…. Though even I found it hard not to enjoy his presence.

In fact. I was a very big fan of his. He just so happened to be my idol. His music was the main thing that got me through so many things. Moving from foster parent to foster parent, when I had become selectively mute, moving to a new school, the events of the fifth foster house. Kiro meant more to me than most things in my life. But you’d never catch me screaming his name or crying at the sheer thought of him. I had self-control. I had to have it. If any mention of me being a fan of Kiro in the office and my tough manager cred would be flushed down the drain. I had to keep my obsession closeted at all costs.

The cars ahead of me started slowly moving again so I put away my phone and slowly followed. The cars stopped soon after. I moaned and checked the time on my watch. 2:30. Maybe walking to LFG would be faster than this.

Finally, my bike slowly rolled up to the stoplight. Past this light, the traffic was much more free-flowing. I was the second vehicle in line. I could almost smell the freedom. My eyes lazily drifted to the sidewalk next to the stoplight pole. There stood a young man staring intently at his phone. He wore a black baseball hat, a red and white hooded t-shirt, and black jeans. He also wore accessories containing a pair of bulky headphones around his neck and a pair of sunglasses. I looked up at the sky. Dark clouds covered most of it. Why was he so heavily protected from the sun?

The APS from the other side of the street started beeping, signaling to a group of pedestrians that it was time for them to cross. The man started impulsively making his way to the street, not paying any attention to the fact that it was not his turn to walk. I watched as a yellow sports car started making its way down to the light and straight towards the man. I looked up at mine helplessly. Still red. I checked my watch. 2:45. I didn’t have time for this.

I cursed to myself and pulled my bike to the side of the road. I quickly pulled out my keys and dashed down the crosswalk and to the man. The car drove closer to the light. The car’s horn finally started blasting which finally pulled the man’s attention off his phone and to the road. He froze in place as the car came speeding towards him. I jumped off the ground and dove into the man, shoving him off the crosswalk and back onto the sidewalk. Safe from the sports car that now had zoomed past the light and down the highway. I lay on him protectively as I caught my breath. I pushed myself onto my hands and caught the last glimpse of the car before it sped out of sight.

I cursed at it uselessly. I sighed and finally looked down at the man. “You O-” I held my breath. The fall had knocked the hat off the man, revealing wild, bright, blond hair. The sun shone onto his sunglasses just enough to show his teal eyes sparkling as he made eye contact with me. My eyes went wide. It couldn’t have been him. There was no way it was him.

“You- you saved my life!”

It was him. There was no way you could mistake that mesmerizing voice of his. Especially if you listened to him as often as I did. It was a higher-pitched voice but there was a sense of joy with every word he spoke. As if merely speaking was a gift to him. As hearing it was a gift to me.

“Thank you!” Kiro smiled at me.

(Next)

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc oc #mr love fanfic #here goes nothing #i have so much fun writing this but the anxiety i get with posting it is almost overwhelming pfft #it doesnt matter though #im writing this for fun #this will be something amazing i can feel it #thank you for reading #next post on Wednesday or Thursday #:D

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anothertinystory · 4 years

Text

Do me a favour, will you? [ Part I ]

» "If you help me, I’ll help you, remember? You don’t want to fulfill your end of the bargain? Fine. But then don’t expect to hold me to mine.“ Draco sighs defeated. She knows she has him. "You are a disease, Granger.” «

New year, new story! Hello (again?) to anyone reading this. I wish you a year, that treats you kindly! I’ve started writing this in December and truthfully, I don’t have it fully plotted out yet. I’m just writing as I go, so enjoy this - or don’t, your call. 🤷‍♀️

*note: I’m not an english native speaker, so please excuse any grammar mistakes. I’ll gladly fix them, if you point them out to me.

It’s well after dinner time when Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy cross the empty corridor on the third floor. It’s a rather unusual sight. The witch is walking in fast confident strides while the Slytherin follows after her dreadfully. When they round the corner, he stops her, a nervous look on his face.

“You cannot seriously expect me to go through with your ridiculous plan. I won’t.” She takes Harry’s cloak and unfolds it. “Fine”, she says with an unbothered voice. “Then I’ll do it on my own.” Draco shakes his head, bewildered. “What? No, Granger. You shouldn’t do this at all. Just leave it.” She raises one eyebrow, as if to taunt him. “Or what? You’ll have your father hear about this?” “No”, he says incredulously. “In fact, I’d prefer it if he didn’t hear about any of it. I happen to value my life unlike some people.” His tone is mocking but she knows he’s nervous. It doesn’t stop her from proceeding with her plan however.

“If you help me, I’ll help you, remember? You don’t want to fulfill your end of the bargain? Fine. But then don’t expect to hold me to mine.” Draco sighs defeated. She knows she has him. “You are a disease, Granger." He takes the cloak from her hands and steps towards her, before enclosing them in the space of the fabric. He wonders how she even got it in the first place, but doesn’t dare to ask.

They’re entirely too close for comfort in Draco’s opinion, although Hermione doesn’t seem to notice. This close he can smell the soapy scent of her hair. He also registers their height difference. The witch doesn’t even reach his chin. The Slytherin scolds himself for noticing these things. He shoos her straight ahead, trying to stay in step with her, so that they don’t fall over.

They reach their destination, the wooden door to the office of none other than Professor Snape. "I trust you to know your way in.” He can barely see the expression on her face in the darkness of the cloak, but assuming from the closeness of her voice, she’s looking at him. Probably expectantly, with her typical Granger stare. It’s reckless to believe they’d get into the room without problems, it’s Snape after all. After someone had broken into his office years before - someone being the very witch standing next to Draco - the Professor had taken precautions outside of the ordinary. But the Blonde is nothing if not thorough. For the past couple of days he has spent hours figuring out how to get into the room without alarming his godfather. Needless to mention that he finally succeeded yesterday.

And now - well, they’re here and he can’t really back out with Grangers promise at the forefront of his mind. It’s going to be fine, he tells himself - but optimism is not a Malfoy trait and the consequences for breaking and entering a Professor’s office are not necessarily very reassuring. Hermione, however, doesn’t care for any of that and shoves him towards the door. “We don’t have all night, you know?”

Her hand rests on his back, as if to make sure he doesn’t make a break for it. The thing is, it doesn’t help him concentrate at all. He grabs her wrist from behind and pulls her next to him. “Not helpful, Granger.” She gives him a doubtful look. “Are you sure, you can do it?”

That, ultimately is what gets him going. Hermione Granger questioning his abilities is not something he takes very well. The chance of proving himself to her is his kryptonite. He gets to work.

Once they’re in, Hermione takes over. She goes through the shelves full of glass jars, each content stranger than the last. She halts before what seems to be the eye balls of an animal. At least, Draco hopes it’s an animal. He can’t be sure. Hermione makes a disgusted face for a split second, before moving on. When she finds what she’s looking for, she summons an identical jar out of her tiny satchel and replaces it with the original. The other - containing real dragon bones, the last ingredient on her list, disappears into her bag without noise. She turns to him and smiles - that is their cue to go.

Back in the corridor, Draco once again engulfs them in the safety of the cloak. After sealing the office, they head back, careful not to cross anyones path. When she speaks, Draco finally lets out the breath he’s been holding. “That went better than I expected.” Thankfully, he mentally adds. He doesn’t want to think about what would have happened, had Snape turned up unexpectedly.

As they enter safe territory, Draco pushes them behind a statue, to step out of the cloak. He hands it back to her and Hermione puts it in her entirely too tiny satchel, charmed to be more space efficient. Hermione looks up at him then, her brown eyes showing signs of relief. “Thanks for keeping your word, despite threatening not to.” The hint of amusement in her tone eases his tensed shoulders a little. “You know what that means, Granger.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m well aware.” They hear someone walking by, and freeze. Their corner is hiding them from view and technically they’re not prohibited from being here, but nonetheless Hermione pulls him towards her, closer to the statue.

He notices, once again, how tiny she is, compared to him. Her hand is still grasping the fabric of his robe where his forearm is, when the sound of footsteps subside. She doesn’t let go for a good while after that and Draco, too, doesn’t dare to move. Eventually, though, he takes a step back again, to look around the corner. The hall is clear. He motions for Hermione to come along and they take towards their dormitories.

When their paths lead them into different directions, Hermione gives him a smile - something he doesn’t get to see from her very often. “Night, Malfoy. Don’t get yourself caught.” He nods. “Likewise.” And before he can say any more, she already disappears into the night.

“You’re not going to tell us, how you got the dragon bone, are you?” Ron watches her with a hint of resignation. “I’m afraid not, no.” Hermione doesn’t meet his eyes, when she says that. Instead she focuses on the potion before her. Harry, Ron and her are sitting on the floor of the girls lavatory on the second floor. They’re alone - well almost. Moaning Myrtle is there, too. But after being mostly ignored by the trio within the first ten minutes of arriving, she decided to sulk in one of the bathroom stalls. Every now and then, she makes a dreadful sound, but Hermione has no time to worry about the ghost.

“It’s almost ready. Check the door again, will you?” Harry does as he’s told. No one comes here, usually. But it’s best to check nonetheless. He soon returns, shaking his head. “No one’s near.” He eyes the potion with curiosity. “Are you sure, it’s going to work?” She sighs. “No. But it’s our best shot. Unless you have a better idea.” He only shakes his head. Ron on the other hand, seems to be more optimistic. “It’s going to be fine, Harry. Don’t worry. If there’s one thing we can rely on, it’s Hermione’s obsession with research.” He gives his friend an encouraging smile.

It feels like an eternity later, when the potion sizzles and fumes in a way, that indicates it did indeed work as intended, that Harry dares to move again. “It’s ready.” Hermione takes a ladle and scoops some of the liquid into the vial, she’s brought. “We’re going to get this to him, next thing tomorrow morning.”

The next day is a Saturday. Hermione meets the boys at breakfast. She also catches sight of Draco. He already sits at the Slytherin table when she enters the Great Hall. They lock eyes for a moment, long enough for them to acknowledge each other, short enough to not raise suspicions. Hermione thinks about their agreement. He fulfilled his part. There certainly were moments, when she worried he wouldn’t. But he did - and soon, she would have to return the favour.

When she reaches the Gryffindor table, Hermione greets the anxious face of Harry and at his side, a sympathetic Ron. The witch sits down opposite them. “Stop looking so dreadful, Harry. We’re going straight after the morning post has arrived. It’s going to be fine.” She tries to console him with a sincere smile and he returns it, if a little reluctantly. “Do you have the vial with you?” Ron gives her a questioning look. “No, I didn’t want to risk anything.” Ginny sits down next to her then, along with some other Gryffindors. Hermione, before giving her friends a pointed look, starts eating her breakfast in silence.

“Hermione, where were you last night after dinner?” The ginger witch turns to her, expecting an answer. She feels the curious eyes from the other students at the table. “I had work to do”, she says and merely shrugs. When the attention turns elsewhere after that, Hermione gives Ginny a knowing look and mouths later. The other girl gives a curious nod and they continue their breakfast with lighter conversations.

When the owls pass by above their heads, bringing letters and packages for the students, Hermione, Ron and Harry get up to leave. In that very second, however one of the birds lets an envelope fall into Hermione’s hands. For a second she curiously eyes the paper with her name on it in bold letters. Who’d send her a letter? It’ll have to wait until later, she decides, and tucks it away into her pocket. In the midst of the owl chaos above, the trio makes their way out of the Great Hall.

They stride towards Hagrid’s hut after Hermione has picked up the potion she safely stored away in her dorm room. Ron knocks on the big wooden door of the hut and it takes a moment until their giant friend opens it. “Ron, Hermione, Harry! You’re early. Is everything alright?” He ushers them in and Hermione and Ron look at Harry, who now seems simultaneously guilty and anxious. “Hagrid, I’m so sorry about Bertie. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Hagrid raises his eyebrows in surprise. “That was you?” Harry nods apologetically and Hagrid sighs. “I thought one of my creatures had frightened him. He’s sprained a leg, but it’ll heal in no time, no worries.” After mustering the boy, the elder continues, “I’m glad you came and told me.” “I was trying to find you, but he surprised me - and I him apparently. He bolted and disappeared into the forest and before I could go after him, McGonagall appeared and dragged me back inside. I couldn’t risk her finding out. I’m sorry.” Hagrid nods sympathetically. “It’s alright. I mean… He shouldn’t even be here. I just couldn’t leave him like that.” Sensing his sadness, Hermione interjects. “On the other hand, we have good news, too. Right, Harry?”

Hagrid turns to her then, curiously. The trio looks at each other before Ron blurts, “we have the invisibility potion. Hermione brewed it last night.” Hagrid is astonished at that, to say the least. When Hermione holds up the vial, he asks with both wonder and concern. “How did you get this?” Hermione smiles proudly. “Don’t worry about that.” In the back of his mind he does worry, because where in Merlins name would the they get the required ingredients for it. The Indespectus Potion is capable of hiding the one drinking it from danger and those who seek to harm them. It’s not necessarily easy to lay hands on the ingredients, nor is the brewing process simple. He shoves those thoughts aside, however, when Hermione hands the vial to him. When he takes it, tears threaten to escape his eyes. “You have no idea, what that means to me.” “Only a little.” Hermione gives him a smile. The trio shares a knowing look before Hagrid squeezes them all into a tight hug. “Will it help?”, Harry asks when they separate. “It most certainly should. Thank you. All of you. Let’s go see him now.”

Hagrid leads the way out of his home and they near the forbidden forest, walking along its rims. Soon a wooden hideout comes into view, messily built and specially hidden with leaves, not obvious to the unsearching eye. In it lays a creature, not much taller than a horse, but different in shape. He looks like what a dragon crossed with a bear would probably resemble if that were possible. An unusual sight for sure. The animal has the shape of a dragon, but instead of the rough reptile-like skin, it is coated in black fur. Its eyes are bright gold and the left leg is bandaged.

“Bertie. Good morning.” Hagrid bents down to pet the creature’s head. Bertie eyes the trio nervously. “They came to help you. They mean no harm. Harry, you should come and apologize for yesterday. I’m sure, he’s going to accept.” Harry steps forward, slow and cautiously. “Hold his gaze. He’s good at judging character.” Hermione and Ron watch with worried fascination as Harry and the dragon-bear get acquainted. With the potion, Hermione thinks, Bertie will stay safe. Black haired dragon birds like him have natural and unlikely enemies everywhere. Their blood makes a powerful witch or wizard beyond imagination and for various reasons Hagrid will be glad to know Bertie safe with the potion.

When they return to Hogwarts later that day, Hermione feels lighter and she’s not the only one. Both Harry and Ron seem relieved and happy. It’s only when she remembers the envelope in her pocket, that worry sets in. Hopefully not a note that would expose her of breaking and entering a Professor’s office (again, at that). She knows, of course, how ridiculous that thought is. If she were found out, then someone would have summoned her already. Once they’ve settled in a corner of the common room, the Brunette takes courage and opens the letter.

Astronomy tower, tonight after dinner. Don’t be late.

She sighs and folds the paper, while Harry eyes her curiously. “Are you alright? Who is it from?” Hermione looks at him, pondering for a second. “I need your cloak again, tonight. Will you lend it to me once more?” Both Harry and Ron look unhappy about the cryptic answer and she rolls her eyes. “I called in a favor yesterday and now I ought to return it.” “Do you need our help?” She smiles at Harry’s worried expression. “No, I can handle it myself. Only the cloak - and the map, preferably.” He nods and before Ron can question her secrecy, Ginny, for the second time that day, interrupts them. “Hey, there you are. Hermione, you promised to help me with my essay. What about now?” Hermione, of course, knows that Ginny has no intention to talk about essays, but she gets up nonetheless. “I guess, I’ll see you later then.” With that the two Gryffindor girls leave the common room.

To be continued…

#dramione #draco x hermione #short story #au #i made up a spell #and a magical creature #well #i tried #the amount of times i look up stuff in the harry potter wiki for these stories is embarrassing #hermione needs something from snapes office #draco ist the one who helps her get in #but not without being promised a favour in return #we're in it for the slow burn #but not too slow because i have no patience to write a full fanfiction

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