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profound-imagination · 7 months

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Come Back, Be Here - Ruhn Danaan

A/N: Longest Ruhn fic I’ve ever written! Did I break my own heart while writing this? Yes. Did I make myself cry while writing this? Also yes. Please enjoy! Angst to Fluff I think? Not properly proof read!❤️

T/W: Talks of injury and torture. Memory loss. I think that’s it! Let me know if I’ve missed any!

W/C: 5.5k

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Beep…beep…beep…

“Sorry, what was that?” You asked Declan, pulling yourself back from listening to the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the buzzing of the hospital lighting. Six months. He’d been held captive and tortured for six months until Bryce had returned with help and they’d rescued him. Flynn was sporting some nasty wounds and Ithan had a broken leg but both of them looked a damn sight better than Ruhn apparently. Dec himself was covered in dust and blood and sporting cuts and bruises. People always seemed to underestimate Declan but he was a warrior, just like his brothers.

“I said you need to be prepared for what you’re going to see, he looks bad Y/N and it is bad but the witches say he’s fighting to come back to us.” Unconscious, that was how they’d found him, breathing, but unconscious and he was yet to wake up. You had been told it was his body’s way of working to heal itself. “I’m scared.” You admitted to them for the first time since he’d been taken, pulling your hair out of the button on your coat it had tangled itself round in your haste to get here after Dec had called you to say they had him. “I’m prepared, I need to see him Dec.” He nodded and Flynn grabbed your hand and limped into the room beside you as Dec opened the door.

It was like your mind couldn’t comprehend what you were seeing. It was the little orange bottles of various medications that you spotted first, lined up neatly on the table next to Ruhn’s bed. Your grip on Flynn’s hand tightened as you took him in. Broken. Bruised. “His hair.” Was the first thing you said. Gone was the long midnight blue hair you’d spent so many hours braiding and styling, it had obviously been shaved at some point and was at the beginning stages of growing back. Then your eyes roamed over his face, black eyes, a tube up his nose, that was clearly broken, cuts and bruises littered his beautiful face.

It was his arms you saw next, again, littered with cuts and bruises but something else, something else was different, wrong, about his arms. It took a few moments for your brain to catch up and Dec and Flynn waited for you to catch up with what they already knew. “Where’s his tattoos?” You asked quietly, your lunch trying to make its way back up your throat. “They, uh, I mean we think, we think they cut them out or that his arms were completely skinned.” Flynn told you as gently as he could, squeezing your hand tighter. You swallowed the vomit that had crawled up your throat and closed your eyes, letting the tears fall. It only got worse when you opened your eyes again to look at Ruhn once more and you saw his chest.

What appeared to be letters had been branded into his skin. T.R.A.I.T.O.R. Other words had been carved into his skin using what you assumed was a very sharp, very thin blade. You threw up then, falling to your knees and spilling the contents of your stomach on the hospital room floor. Ruhn’s brothers were by your side in an instant. Flynn holding your hair out of your face, Declan rubbing your back in soothing circles. “What else?” You croaked when you finally stopped retching. “We assume plenty of mental trauma and just a lot more cuts and bruises, he’s been whipped, his back was in ribbons but Paxia managed to heal a lot of it, it’s all scabbed over now. We aren’t sure how much he went through though, how many times they took him apart and put him back together again.”

Days, weeks you spent sitting at his bedside waiting for him to wake up. “You should go to the house, have a shower, get changed, have something to eat and a nap, we’ll let you know if he wakes up.” Tharion said gently, you’d had this same argument with Ithan, Dec and Flynn all separately over the last few weeks. “I don’t want him to wake up alone.” You muttered weakly from your seat on the chair next to his bed, knees to your chest and head resting on your knees. “He won’t, I promise I’ll stay right here until you get back.” He told you. “Why hasn’t Bryce been to visit?” You asked him instead, trying to change the subject. “She’s with Hunt, trying to break through to him, he’s her mate.” You huffed “Ruhn’s her brother.” You’d also had this argument with the others as well. “He wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself, Y/N.” You sighed, he was right. “They sent you as a last resort to get me out of here didn’t they?” He nodded, “They know you can’t say no to me.” He smirked.

“I never told him.” Tharion crouched in front of you, “Told him what?” He asked, tucking a greasy strand of hair behind your ear. “How I feel about him.” Tharion smiled gently, “I think he knows kid, I think he’s known since you were a kid and you told him he could come live in your treehouse because his dad was always mad and you thought it was because his house was haunted.” You flushed with embarrassment. “He must’ve thought I was a stupid kid.” Tharion laughed, “I can picture little you, having the biggest crush on him.” You nodded, “You and Bryce were always the most important things in his life, still are, he just doesn’t see one of you as a little sister anymore.” Dec’s voice pulled your attention towards the door. “Go home, come back in a few hours, we’ll be here.” Tharion held out a hand to you and you took it and let him pull you to your feet. You placed a gentle kiss on Ruhn’s forehead. “I won’t be long.” You told him and then followed Tharion out the door.

“Wake up, Y/N, wake up!” You startled awake at Tharion shaking you, “He woke up!” You shot off the sofa and beelined towards the door, “Wait!” Tharion called after you, “You need to put trousers on!” You stopped and turned as a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie hit you in the face and you pulled them on as quickly as you could.

You hated running, detested it in fact, but as you ran down the hallways of the hospital to Ruhn’s room it seemed like you couldn’t move fast enough and that the halls stretched on forever. As you rounded the corner to his room you saw Ithan, he took a step towards you as you approached, “Y/N-“ you breezed past him and into the room. “Where is she? Dec? Where is she?” You heard Ruhn ask as you rounded the curtain that surrounded his bed. “She’s coming.” Dec told his brother “Ruhn?” You choked out as you approached his bed and threw your arms around him and sobbed. “Dec, who is this? Where’s Lidia?” His words hit you like a physical blow and you reeled back from him. “Ruhn it’s me, it’s Y/N.” You told him as he studied you. “I’ve never met you before.” He said, “Did you help Bryce?” You looked at Dec and Flynn who both looked equally confused. “Bro, do you really not know who she is?” Flynn asked, gesturing to you. Ruhn shook his head, “No, I told you, we’ve never met.” He said, your throat felt thick and tears stung your eyes. “You’ve known me since I was 5-“ your voice cracked and you backed towards the curtain.“You’re my biggest hero.” The tears fell and you turned and fled.

They found you at the house, staring blankly at the floor. Tharion approached you first and crouched in front of you, much like he’d done earlier that day. “We spoke to Pax. She thinks his mind has blocked things out, that he blocked them out while he was down there as a way to protect those he cares about.” You didn’t move, “But he knows all of you, why was it just me?” You sniffled, he sighed gently,

“She doesn’t know, maybe because you’re half fae and you haven’t made the drop yet, he wanted to protect you but she seemed confident the memories would come back, that you should visit and talk to him, tell him stories and help him remember.” You shook your head, “I’m a stranger to him now, he won’t want me there.” Flynn sat next to you, “That’s rubbish and you know it.”

You didn’t go back. It had been two weeks and he was coming home today. You’d cleaned the entire place top to bottom and changed the sheets on his bed from where you’d stayed there while he was being held, erasing any sign of yourself from his bedroom. Ithan had text you that they were on their way back as you flicked through the scrap book you’d made. Hypaxia had insisted his memories would return with a little help so you caved. You’d filled the pages with everything you could think of from his friendship with his brothers, to Bryce, to his favourite places.

The door swung open and there he was, arms wrapped around Dec and Flynn as they helped him into the house. “Hey kid!” Tharion beamed at you and you gave him a small smile in return as Ithan wrapped you in a hug. Dec and Flynn sat Ruhn on the sofa and took their place next to him. “Can I get you anything?” You asked him, shier than you’d ever been around Ruhn. He shook his head, “Y/N, right?” He asked, you nodded, “That’s me.” You said quietly, “They tell me you’re important to me, I’m trying to remember why but I can’t” You shrugged, “It doesn’t matter, you’re alive and home, that’s what’s important, besides, I think you were always more important to me than I was to you.” You didn’t miss the pitying looks from everyone else in the room.

“What’s that?” Ruhn asked after the others had dispersed. The assholes leaving you alone with him. You handed him the scrapbook you’d made with a bashful smile on your face. “They said to make something for you to look at to maybe help jog your memory, so, uh that’s what I did.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, you felt pathetic, desperate. You watched his hands instead as he took great care in opening the book. You watched him smile at the pages with his brothers and his friends, he beamed at the Bryce pages. “You went to Embers?” He asked, a shocked look on his face. “You told me once you wished she’d been your mom, even though she’s younger than you. She was like a mother to you, plus she had adorable pictures of you and Bryce.” He studied your face. “That’s like 8 hours each way.” You shrugged, “It was for you.”

You watched mortified as he got to your pages. He ran a deft finger down the first picture. “Is this us?” He asked showing you the picture. Ruhn was beaming down at you, sat in his lap, hands on his face smiling back up at him. You smiled bashfully. “Uh yeah, that was the day we first met, I was 5, I think you were around 55. Ember and my mom were friends and I was a super timid kid, super shy and awkward so they organised a play date with Bryce who’s always been my polar opposite. Then you turned up and Bryce was so excited to see you, and quite literally dragged me over to you. She made me tell you my name and then she made you play with us. Except I didn’t play, I just stood there as she started setting up the tea party we were having that I had no interest in. I just wanted to go back to my colouring. You coaxed me over to you telling me that you wanted to show me a magic trick. Well of course I couldn’t resist so I stepped closer and you showed me your starlight. I remember being amazed, like absolutely captivated. You told Bryce to bring my colouring pens over with her, which she complained about because we weren’t colouring, we were having a tea party but she brought them over anyways. You showed me your tattoos, they didn’t all have colour then and you weren’t covered yet and you asked me to colour them in and fill the gaps. I spent the afternoon sat on your lap colouring your arms while you had a tea party with Bryce.” He smiled warmly and turned the page as you told him “I think you’re why I’m a tattoo artist now. I did some of your ink in fact.”

He was silent for a while as he took in the various pictures of the two of you at parties, at the beach, at the White Raven. He hesitated on a particular photo, a look on his face you couldn’t decipher. It had been taken from the back door. Ruhn was lying flat on his back and you were straddling his hips. He was looking at you like you were special, you were completely unaware, laughing at Flynn who had caught you both and was taking the photo. “What were we to each other?” He asked quietly. Your stomach twisted. “Um, I never knew if I’m honest. You’ve been in my life since I was 5 and I was like a little sister to you and you had been my favourite person in the world since that first day, but at some point around my 23rd birthday, when Bryce came back into your life that seemed to change, like you saw me as something more like I’d always dreamed of, but we never talked about it, if we were friends or more, if we had feelings for each other. You pulled away from me about 6 weeks before you were taken, I didn’t know why until Flynn told me about Agent Daybright.” You turned the page to find a certain picture. He studied it, a selfie this time, taken where you were currently sitting with him.

“This was my 24th birthday, last year. It had been really shit for everyone. Do you remember the demon attack? Bryce making the drop?” He nodded. “My parents died in that attack, I had nowhere to go so you let me move in here, in fact you wouldn’t hear of me living anywhere else. My first night living here was my birthday. I was miserable all day, I refused to come out of my room, when you’d finally coaxed me out of my bedroom with the promise of desserts and whatever take out I wanted for dinner you’d sent everyone else out. You knew I wouldn’t be able to handle the love they’d smother me with. So we sat and smoked, ate take out and watched my favourite movies. You kissed me for the first time that night and I smiled for the first time in weeks. You told me that you’d kiss me a million times over if it meant I’d smile at you like that.”

He continued to flick through the book, taking in the pages. “Can I ask you something?” You asked softly, he met your eyes and nodded. “Who’s Lidia?” He froze for a half a second, “Lidia is Agent Daybright, Lidia Cervos.” You gasped, “The Hind?” He nodded. There was so much you wanted to ask, did he really think she was his mate? Was she actually his mate, did he love her? But he didn’t need that right now so instead you asked, “Is she safe? Is there anything I can do for her?” He studied you for a while, choosing his words. “You made this whole book to help me remember you and anything else I may have forgotten, you’ve just sat and been really honest with me about how you feel about me and then you offer to help her? You’d do that?” You fought the tears, “For you? Yeah I would. Happiness is all I want for you Ruhn.”

“She’s safe.” He finally said, “She went back with Bryce’s friends, there was no life for her here anymore, we both knew whatever we could’ve had couldn’t be fixed now.” You nodded, “I’m sorry you lost her.” He gave you a sad smile, “I’m sorry I can’t remember you, what I felt for you, I do know that I want you around though, as soon as you left my hospital room I wanted you to come back.” A tear escaped your eye and he brushed it away, “I want to remember you, little one.” He said, his face morphing into horror when you started crying harder. “I’m sorry, don’t cry because of me!” He said, grabbing your hands. “No, it’s just, you always called me that, little one, well that or-“ he cut you off “Princess.”

Your laugh was watery as you looked up at him, “Yeah, Bryce hated it when you called her that, she kicked off about it when we were 7 and you just laughed at her and called her trouble instead as she crossed her arms and huffed but you just picked me up and said ‘Y/N can be my Little Princess instead.’ and it stuck. I’m nearly 25 and you still call me that, even when Flynn teases me for it.” He smiled slightly, and asked “So you’re human then? If you grew up around Bryce and Ember?” “Not quite, there’s a little bit of Fae in me but I didn’t get the ears or the glow that you all have, that Bryce has, just the long lifespan but I haven’t made the drop yet.” He placed the book down carefully on the coffee table and turned to face you, “Why not?” You gave him a small smile, “You were going to be my anchor, it was what we were going to do on my 25th birthday.” He seemed to be registering just how intertwined your lives were, “I’ll do it eventually, I’ll get Tharion to be my anchor or use the one they provide.”

“When is your birthday?” He asked and you flushed, “Um, it’s today actually.” You both flinched at the crash from the kitchen and Flynn who appeared in the doorway, Dec just behind him. “We missed your birthday?! Why didn’t you tell us?” You shrugged, “Wasn’t important.” Flynn huffed, “Yes it is! We’re terrible! No presents, no party! We just did nothing!” He pointed at Ruhn, “I blame you, you normally remind us of all the Y/N related events!” Ruhn held his hands up in mock surrender, “My bad man, lemme go back in time to yesterday so I can remind you that it’s the girl I don’t remember birthday tomorrow!” You laughed at them, “Stop it, it really doesn’t matter!” Dec shoved Flynn out of his way, “Yes it does, you need to stop playing things off like you aren’t important, you are! Can we have a do over? What day is it now? Thursday? Give us Saturday as a do over, please?” You sighed, “Guys it’s not a big deal! Helping Ruhn heal and get better that’s what’s important, not re doing my birthday.”

Another crash, this time, “It’s your birthday?!” Ithan shouted as he skidded at the bottom of the stairs. The front door opened and Tharion strolled in, a gift bag and a balloon in hand and waltzed straight over to you, “Happy birthday, kid!” He smiled as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head and handed you the bag and balloon. He took in the others, the looks on their faces, “Was I the only one that remembered?” Dec nodded, Tharion pointed at Ruhn, “I blame you, you normally remind them of all Y/N related events.” Flynn threw his hands in the air “That’s what I said!!” Ruhn rolled his eyes, “Thank you, Tharion.” You smiled up at him as you took in the freshwater pearl earrings he’d gifted you. “You’re welcome kid, I know you loved those ones you pawned to get to Embers the other day so I-“ he seemed to realise what he’d said, “I wasn’t meant to say that.” Dec, Flynn and Ithan all looked confused, Ruhn’s expression was unreadable as you muttered, “No, you weren’t.”

Ruhn took that scrap book with him everywhere, studied it for hours as if it’d force his brain to remember what it had blocked out. You’d agreed to let them give you a birthday redo in the end. Flynn wouldn’t stop whining about it. Ruhn had been quiet for the most part. He asked questions as and when they came to him. You’d just gotten out of the bath, your hair wrapped in a towel, one of Ruhn’s old T-shirts thrown onto wear while you got ready for the party they were throwing you. You’d just finished your skincare when you heard a crash from down the hall, Ruhn’s room.

You didn’t knock on his bedroom door. You strolled in to find Ruhn sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands wearing only his boxers. You saw the full extent then, the bruises and healing cuts, the lacerations that were now scabbed over on his back from where he’d been whipped. “Ruhn?” You said his name quietly so you didn’t startle him, “Are you okay?” He didn’t move as he mumbled, “My hair.” His long locks gone, it had been shaved at some point, it was now more like Flynn’s boy band hair as Ruhn like to joke. An adjustment you were sure. “What about it?” You asked him, approaching carefully. “It’s gone, I don’t know what to do with this!” He exclaimed tugging at the strands. “Can I?” You asked, gesturing towards him, he nodded and you knelt behind him on his bed.

“I loved your long hair, but y'know I think I love the short hair too.” You told him as you ran your fingers through it. “Really?” He asked and you hummed, “I used to spend hours braiding and styling your hair.” He raised an eyebrow at you through the mirror on the wall opposite the bed, “I gave you some right questionable hair styles over the years, you wore them all with pride.” You ran your fingers through his hair again, “I can do something with this for sure, if you’re okay with that?” He met your eyes in the mirror, “Please?” You nodded and got up and walked into his bathroom to get the products you wanted, he watched you go.

“Nice shirt.” He said as you returned to his room, “Oh this old thing? Some guy I hooked up with once gave it to me so I’d stay and sleep in his room rather than going back to my own.” He looked like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said, “That’s my shirt though.” He said, so he remembered the shirt then, you smirked, “Yeah, I was talking about you.” His mouth dropped open and formed an O. “We? When?” He stuttered out, “You didn’t mention that the other day!” You laughed, “The walls had ears the other day! I mean they probably all already know.” He looked at you still waiting for an answer. “Christmas eve, after too many mulled wines.” He contemplated, “What?” You asked him with a laugh, “Was that the first time?” You nodded, “That was the only time.” He hummed, “Drunk after too many mulled wines?” You laughed again, “Yup.” He hummed again, “What?” You repeated, “It just seems like if you’re as important as the guys say you are to me I’d have made it special, not a drunk hookup on Christmas Eve.” You smiled at him as you walked past him and crawled behind him, “It was kinda perfect actually. I know it sounds like it was just a quick drunk hookup but it wasn’t, it was slow and sweet, we giggled a lot, it was special, because it was us.”

He didn’t say anything else as you styled his hair. When you were finished he was staring at his arms, “I’ll fix them for you, if you want, when you’re fully healed.” He smiled slightly, “I’d like that.” You nodded, “No problem, but for the time being a might have a solution!” You sprang from his bed and ran down the hallway to your room. One you had found what you were looking for you walked back to Ruhn, grinning ear to ear. “Glittery stick on tattoos?” He laughed when he read the packet. “I volunteer as a big sister for a little girl who lost her parents in the attack, I got these for her but I can replace them and I think they’ll look amazing on you.”

By the time you were done you were both grinning and laughing, Ruhn had arms full of glittery tattoos and he’d stuck one on your cheek. It took you both a moment to realise you’d ended up straddling his hips as you stuck the last two on his neck. Ruhn cleared his throat, a blush rising on both of your cheeks. You lightly traced the letters burned into his skin, “If this heals well I can cover it,” you told him, “How do you feel about an awesome chest piece?” He gently removed you from his lap and smiled, “I feel pretty good about that, princess.” You weren’t sure he even realised he’d called you that and you weren’t about to question it. You awkwardly scratched the back of your neck and said, “I should probably go and get ready.” And hightailed it out of his room, he watched you go for the second time.

You had to hand it to the guys, they threw together an amazing party and they had spoiled you rotten with gifts. You were currently handing Flynn’s ass to him in beer pong when Ruhn approached you and offered you a hand, you met his eyes for a couple of seconds and then took it without question. He led you out of the living room and front door and out onto the street. “Where are we going? The party is back there!” You asked him, “Do you trust me?” He asked, “Always.” He smiled down at you, “Good, I have something to show you.” You followed him through the streets until he stopped outside a building. You gave him a questioning look, “Why are we outside an abandoned building?” You asked him, he rolled his eyes, “Look up, Princess.” It was then that you spotted the sign, brand new and freshly done, it read, ‘Starborn Tattoos’ you gasped, “Dec said the studio you worked in got destroyed during the attack and that you’d been living on your savings since then, he also said it had always been your dream to own your own shop, so, Happy Birthday, Princess.” He said as he handed you the keys from his pocket. “I-I don’t know what to say, Ruhn, this is too much! You aren’t just doing this because you feel bad that you can’t remember me are you?” He shook his head, “I’m doing this because it feels like the right thing to do.” Tears escaped your eyes, “Thank you! Can I hug you? Is that okay?” He laughed and pulled you into his chest.

He gave you a tour inside the shop, “It’s perfect!” You sequeled as you told him your vision for it. “You’ll be the first person I tattoo in here!” You circled the space once more, “Starborn Tattoos, how did you know? Did Dec tell you the name?” He shrugged, “Lucky guess after you told me you thought I was the reason you’re an artist.” You nodded, you couldn’t believe the heart this man had, after all he’d been through. “We’re not done yet, we’ve got once more place to go.” He told you and you span to face him, “Ruhn this is more than enough, like seriously, you don’t have to get me another present for the rest of my life.” He rolled his eyes and took your hand again, “Come on!”

You stopped dead when you realised where he was taking you. “We don’t have to do this, Ruhn.” You told him as you looked up at the Drop centre. “Yes, we do, we made a deal.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “But you don’t even know me anymore.” You felt his hands on your face and opened your eyes, “Trust me, Princess.” You nodded and followed him in.

You were falling, and falling, and falling. It seemed to go on for an eternity before you hit the bottom. All you could see was white and a runway. You could hear the clock ticking down, you needed to run, to make the leap to go back but then there he was. Long hair, covered in tattoos, smoking a rolled cigarette as he walked towards you. “There’s my princess!” He cheered as he flicked his cigarette off to the side and pulled you into him. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. The clock was still counting down but Ruhn was here, the one that knew you. The one that maybe loved you. “You need to go back, you know that right?” He asked as you wrapped your arms around him tighter. “I want to stay here with you, you know me.” He kissed the top of your head, “I’ll always know you, Princess. You’ve been so strong for me, so kind.” You cried into his chest. “It hurts that you don’t know me!” You wailed, “It hurts that you asked for her when you woke up and everyone was convinced you were asking for me!” He ran a soothing hand down your back, “I know little one, I know.” You let out a shuddering breath, “I can’t say any of this to you though, because it isn’t your fault and you’re trying, I know you’re trying, but I’m so sad without you and I can’t voice that because it isn’t fair! None of this is fair! You never should’ve gone and got caught up in Bryce’s drama and obsession with Danika, she hasn’t even been to visit!” He pulled you away from his chest, “She’s my little sister, baby, I’m always going to get involved.” You nodded, “I know.”

He wiped the tears from your face, “You left me Ruhn.” He kissed your forehead, “That’s not true, I’m waiting for you right now.” You heard him then, the Ruhn that was waiting for you, the one that had bought you a building. “Come back, Princess.” You looked into his eyes, “Go.” Was all he said, “Will you come with me?” You asked, “Of course, I’ll always come with you.” He said as he took your hand. “Come back, you can do it!” You both took off at a sprint and when you reached the end of the runway you jumped, Ruhn with you. A quarter of the way Ruhn fell behind and pushed you, still grasping your hand, half way he started to fade, three quarters of the way, “I love you, little one.” He said, his voice quiet, he was gone as you reached the top and your eyes shot open.

Ruhn was hovering over you, “I know you.” He said, he voice a whisper, “What?” You asked, your voice just as quiet as he helped you sit up. He cupped your cheek and stood between your legs. “I know you, Princess.” Your eyes welled at what you thought he was telling you. “As you ascended, my memories of you came flooding back.” You let the tears fall, “You were there, you before, you jumped with me.” He smiled down at you, “You bought them back, baby, gods you’re amazing.” A sob escaped your throat, “Do you really remember me?” He leant down and kissed your forehead. “I remember.” More sobs followed his confession, “I’m going to kiss you now, something I didn’t do enough of before.” You let out a tearful laugh as his lips met yours and a golden thread tied the two of you together. “Marry me?” He asked when he pulled away and you gasped, “What?!” “I asked you to marry me, I’ve wasted enough time.” You cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, “We haven’t even been on a date, Ruhn!” You laughed, “Let’s start there, let’s get you healed and finish dealing with the mess Bryce made, then, when you ask me again, I’ll say yes, hel I’ll marry you then and there. But I want to be your girlfriend first.” He smiled, “Anything you want princess.”

#crown prince of the valbaran fae #ruhn x reader #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn danaan #crescent city #house of sky and breath #house of earth and blood

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arcaneauthor · 1 year

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Tattoos Tell A Story

Part 2 now up (here), Part 3 (here)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!reader

Summary: Coloring in Ghost’s tattoos has become somewhat of a habit. It’s this habit that’s leads you to discovering a tattoo he had gotten done without your knowledge.

Warnings: Fluff, like so much fluff

A/n: This is my first time posting on tumblr and I have no idea what I’m doing. Requests now open! Pls give me some ideas😭

You found it one day during one of your little “coloring sessions”,A little habit you’ve picked up ever since that one rainy day in July. Ghost had just come back from a mission and you both wanted to soak in as much of the other as possible, just bask in one another’s presence. Three months with nothing more then a letter exchange here and there, you were gonna enjoy as much time with your boyfriend as possible.

You remember lightly stroking his arm as you curiously asked him why all of his tattoos were so dull.

~*~

“Pardon?” He questions if he heard you right.

“Your tattoos, all of them are just black. There’s no color.” Your eyes still haven’t left where you are softly tracing one of his tattoos, a depiction of an assault rifle rapped in thorns.

He raises his other tattooed arm for inspection, as if he had forgotten what it looked like.

“I don’t need em’ all flashy. Besides,” he shrugs,”Think they look better this way.”

You make a noise of disagreement, shaking your head, until a thought seems to strike you, raising your head from where it was previously laying on his shoulder, eyes looking up at him with a mischievous glint.

“Wanna bet?” Is all he gets before you bolt out of his grip, standing up to dig through the bedside drawer, grabbing a case of markers out before diving back into bed, a little too excitedly seeing as how the whole thing rocked.

You hold the case up to him as a kid would show a crayon drawing to their parents.

He stares at the markers before flicking his eyes to you.

“What are ya doin’?

You completely ignore him as you smile, a little manically, and turn to grab his arm and get to work.

He may have complained, but he never stopped you.

And he would never admit it out loud, but it did look kinda cool

It also put him to sleep

~*~

And now your little “coloring sessions” have become a bit of a recurring thing.

Sick and stuck in bed? He gives you his arm.

That time of the month and you’re curled under the covers with cramps? He’s already grabbing the markers for you.

Just having a bit of a lazy cuddle session? You’re instinctually grabbing his arm.

Today, it’s the third option. He had once again just got home from a mission and, though not as long as some of his other send offs, it still seemed way too long to you. You were sitting against one another, your back to his chest, one arm hugging you to him, the other clutched in your grasp as you fill in his uncolored tattoos with your pack of markers. His masked face was pressed against the side of your head as he watched your hands delicately glide the marker across his skin, sometimes throwing in a cheeky comment or two about how a certain color didn’t go somewhere, which earned him a slap to the thigh.

You finished filling in the rose near his elbow, moving further down towards his hand, but something catches your eye.

You’d done this countless times now, you probably know his tattoos better than he does at this point. You know that the ink goes a little off line on his skull tattoo, you know that there’s a little stray mark beside the oak tree on his bicep. You know every detail and mistake.

That’s how you know this wasn’t here before.

It’s a small little heart on the inside of his wrist, not filled in because of course it isn’t.

You bring it up closer to your face for inspection, and that’s when you notice it

The writing inside.

Y/n

It…was your name?

You whip around to look back at him with questioning eyes.

The mask completely covered the lower part of his face,though his eyes gave away the soft smirk lurking beneath.

“The boys wanted to celebrate the win. Tattoos were Mactavish’s idea.” Bastards trying to be all nonchalant about it.

“But-but, why this?” You shove his own arm into his face, like he didn’t already know what was on it.

He shrugs,”Racked my brain for an idea, but, seems you’re the only thing on my mind these days. Couldn’t get ya out of my head-“

He huffs as you plow into him with a hug, immediately engulfing you in his muscled arms.

Simon never was one for excessive pda or poetic words, rather he showed love through his actions. Attempting to cook for you, making you bubble baths, bringing you heating pads and medicine for your cramps. And this was just another one added to the list, maybe the best of them all in your opinion, cause a tattoo-a tattoo’s pretty dang permanent. In his mind, you know, this is his promise of forever to you. His version of a promise ring.

There’s no tears shed, you never were much of a crier, but the emotions were definitely felt. The warmth, the happiness, the love, all of it was basically drowning you at this point.

“You know tattoo removals hurt right?” You lean away enough to look him in the eye,”Like-like what happens if this doesn’t work out, if you decide you’re tired of me,I don’t know, piggy backing you all the time or something and you have to go get this covered?” You motion to his arm.

It’s said as a joke, but he can still somehow detect the hint of serious worry in your voice.

He lightly grabs you under the chin,”Sweetheart, if I let a catch like you go then I deserve the pain.”

Alright you know you said you weren’t a crier, but that might have brought some moisture to your eye.

He doesn’t even try and stop you as your reach to roll the mask up to his nose, a testament of how much he trusts you. Overwhelmed with emotions, you tenderly cup his face to pull him into a kiss.

It’s slow and gentle, just a smooth glide of your lips against his. His hands gently rubbing up and down your sides. You lovingly gliding your thumb across his light stubble, breathing in his musky cologne. Although intense, the kiss contains absolutely no heat, no sexual insinuation. Instead, you feel only one thing.

Love

“I love you.” You relay breathlessly as you pull away, gently knocking your forehead against his.

You share a few breathes before he replies

“I….care, about you too,” you slap his arm with an unimpressed look,”Kidding! Of course I bloody love you, got your name tattooed on my arm for gosh sa-

You cut him off with another kiss.

~*~

Bonus:

You were once again laid on the bed, squished up against his side with a thick arm wrapped around your shoulder. Your eyes caught sight of your name engraved in his skin.

You smirk at the sight,”You know,” you break silence, catching his attention away from the tv,”It would have looked better if you had gotten the heart filled in with red.”

He’s a little confused for a second before catching your line of sight. He rolls his eyes, jostling you slightly as he sat up to reach beside the bed. Now you’re the one confused.

“Well, if that was the case,” he rolls back over to present you with a red marker,”You wouldn’t get to do it yourself, now would ya’?”

You grab the marker, sparing glances between it and the proud look on Simon’s face.

Your man, This man really got a tattoo with the intent for you to do your silly little coloring on it.

Yep, definitely love him.

#ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #call of duty #ghost cod #reader insert #ghost fluff #fluff #writers on tumblr #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #x y/n

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words-4u · 1 year

Text

blind date (not really)

pairing: christian pulisic (romantic), ben chilwell (platonic)

wc: 848

a/n: this is based on prompt from @jasminesfury

getting set up for a blind date but turns out they’ve had a one-night stand before

“i genuinely can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this,” you said into your phone. you were sitting at your vanity getting ready for a date that your friend has set up. why you trust ben chilwell that much, you’ll never understand but here you were getting ready to spend the evening with someone you know nothing about.

“c’mon, y/n, you have to live a little. when was the last time you made a fulfilling connection with someone?” ben’s voice filled your room.

“i’ll have you know i make some very fulfilling connections with people,” you smirked.

you let out a laugh when he groaned at your insinuation. “i am trying to help you here! listen, y/n/n, you deserve to be happy and i’m sorry but having random guys in and out of your bed isn’t make you happy.”

“oh but this date tonight will?” you retort.

“maybe… the point is that you don’t know cause you don’t go on dates and give yourself that chance. also, i know this lad and he’s so nice he wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”

ben had come into your life unexpectedly a couple of years ago when you met at a random event in london. he had spilled a drink on your dress and gave you his jacket to cover up. you’d think that’d be the perfect meet-cute right? wrong. the two of you hit off in a very platonic way as you were fairly new to the city and he assumed the role of a city guide and as months went on, an older brother.

“you’re selling him so hard right now, he better live up to it,” you singsong as you applied a layer of lipgloss. you grabbed your bag and shoved some important items in there, gum being the most important.

you gave your outfit the once-over happy with what you pulled together. an all-black fit is what you loved to wear most despite it looking very morbid.

“i’m just about done chilly so i’m gonna head out but i’ll call you later, yeah?” you said with a finger hovering over the ‘end call’ button.

“sounds good. look, i’ve already sent over the restaurant he’s meeting you at so have fun and be nice…”

“aren’t i always?” you smile sweetly and pressed the red button ending the call.

in about 5 minutes flat you were in an uber heading over to an italian restaurant that ben had suggested. as you sat in silence while radio music played in the background, you made a mental list of what you actually know about this mystery guy. you knew that he was a friend of ben’s, that he was relatively attractive because ben swore he was “your type to a t” and that’s pretty much it.

you were looking forward to the date because deep down ben was right, you were tired of having random hookups. you wanted something that lasted. someone that was yours.

the car slowly came to a stop signalling that you arrived at your destination, snapping out of your thoughts you thanked the driver and headed inside.

you pulled out your phone and texted your date.

you walked into the dimly lit restaurant making your way around busy tables to get to the bar. you were about to whip out your phone and text the number ben slid you a couple of hours ago before you spotted a very familiar face…

before you could think of your next move, the man looked up and your eyes locked. you watched as the same realization crept in. ben had set you up with his teammate christian pulisic.

you pressed your lips trying to stifle a laugh because once again ben was right. christian definitely was your type which is why you hooked up with him… a month ago.

since he worked with ben and you were his friend, you decided to leave it as a one-night stand and never discuss it again.

he looked good, you thought. you’d always found it hot when he let his beard grow in.

“y/n,” he breathed getting off the cushiony stool and making his way to you. “you are…”

“you’re blind date? i am,” you couldn’t help but grin. now that you knew who ben had set you up with you were giddy. you’d always wanted to explore things further with christian but never did because you were too busy living your best single life but you’d be extremely dumb to pass up this opportunity.

you shifted uncomfortably under his hungry gaze. “are you happy it’s me?”

“are you kidding? I’ve never been happier about anything,” he said and you believed him. “you haven’t left my mind since that night.”

that confession only widened your grin as you looked away for a moment before echoing his sentiment. “and as much as i tried, you haven’t left my mind either.”

christian smiled widely as he held out his hand. “in that case, y/n, would you like to go on a date with me?”

you placed your hand in his. “thought you’d never ask.”

hope you enjoyed xx if you want to send in a request you can do it through my bio!!

#one shot #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic one shot #cp10 #football imagine #football one shot #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader

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shearlin · 2 months

Text

Word count: 2678

Chapter 7: Time

First || << Previous || Next >>

Happy International Women's Day that was yesterday! As a gift, have a cameo!

Fun fact! I noticed that on average I'm adding 1k words to my "final" drafts when I search for typos and errors before posting. Good thing I put an uploading schedule for myself in place or I would ended up in the editing limbo.

(I also discovered I cannot write accents for the life of me. There was an attempt, but I had to scrap it because I just couldn't do it justice. The accents live in my head and in my heart.)

Enjoy! :D

Another day, another fight, another close call. This time it was… well, Time.

They were on their way to Lon Lon Ranch, landing in old man’s Hyrule only a day's walk away from it. Their spirits were high, the sunbeams bright and the monsters stupid enough to think they didn’t notice them hiding in sparse shrubbery on the side of the road.

The fight didn’t look like anything special. They were so used to working together by that point, it felt more like a choreographed dance routine than a real battle. Legend twirled the ice rod in his hand, wielding his sword in the other, freezing and shattering any monster coming too close, while being covered by Sky with the Master Sword and a whip. Hyrule was dancing around the Darknut with ease giving Wind and Four an easy shot at his back, the two of them making quick work of its armour. Wild was giving them all multiple heart attacks by letting a giant moblin stab the air inches from his face, only to kill it in a rapid fire of blows in a blink of an eye. He would later claim he was ‘training his magic abilities’ and acting all innocent, the madman. Twilight was going after archers, covering the distance between him and them in a blink of an eye as a wolf, coming out of the shift with his sword already swinging. Warriors was taking care of the supposed leader of the pack, separating it from the rest and not letting it bark out any orders or call retreat.

And Time was dealing with a pair of black lizalfos from Sky’s era.

Legend didn’t see how it happened, not that it mattered, only heard the old man coming down with a yell of pain as the spiked metal ball connected with his left knee and rendering him vulnerable and unable to fight.

Twilight and Wars were to his side in an instant, covering him while Time tried to do his best to not move so as to not upset the crushed joint any further. Sky went absolutely ballistic on the monsters he and Legend were dealing with, allowing the veteran to provide additional aid to the old man's defence with his ice rod, allowing Wars to start on the first aid.

They might have been overeager in making sure Time was okay, but to be fair, they were just a few hours away from Malon. They were not going to bring to her doorstep her husband all broken and beaten up.

They defeated the monsters quickly after that, powered by their righteous fury. A fairy that was travelling with them for the past few hours, straight up phased through the glass of her bottle as soon as the last monster fell, so she could heal his leg, despite old man's insistence he would be fine with a red potion, since they were going to the ranch to rest anyway. She had none of that, healing him in a tirade of bells and chimes and then zipped ahead to have her fill of sugar water as a reward.

Legend might not be able to speak with the pink fairies, but by the way Time chuckled as she offered her farewells, he was convinced that that particular one had enough excitement for her life .

Once the injury was mended and Time led them back on the road, the good mood from earlier returned to their group and they started joking around again. Just their local old man being too slow with his reflexes and not being able to keep up with them younglings.

But Legend couldn’t help but feel the uneasiness prickle under his skin once more, as he fell to the back of the group, brushing off Sky’s questioning look and Hyrule’s attempts at conversation. They got the hint easily enough and he was left alone with his thoughts.

The ‘old man’ jokes were all in good fun. The old man himself was often pointing out with humour, how he can’t possibly rival their vigour during training sessions or with the long days of trekking across the lands of Hyrule, no matter his ability to move with deceptive ease and speed when he really wanted to.

And it wasn’t like those jokes were unfounded. He was the oldest. If anyone, Legend would know how years of heroing can weigh on one’s body. Time might have only two (three?) official quests under his belt, but he did spend his teenage and young adult years hunting monsters, clearing and cleansing dangerous cursed places and doing all sorts of work for the crown as the Hero of Time. He might have found peace and tranquillity in the life on the ranch with Malon once he officially “retired” that title, but it didn’t erase years of injuries, scarred tissues or impaired-or-possibly-lack-of vision in his right eye. The entire chain could attest that it would be weird if that life didn’t leave any strain on his body.

Occasional injuries caused by slower reflexes or lingering stiffness was to be expected.

Logically, Legend knew that. But it was happening too often.

Well, not really, it was happening too often for his taste.

Read the rest on Ao3!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu fanfiction #linked universe fanfic #linked universe legend #lu legend #linked universe time #lu time #my writing #a piece of heart

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after-witch · 5 months

Text

Bright Lights [Chapter 9] [Small Spaces Sequel]

Title: Bright Lights [Chapter 9]

Synopsis: Sam, Owen and Elisa enter the wild animal tent, filled with exotic animals and impossibly large cages that contain jungles, savannahs, and lush greenery. But everything is not as it seems.

Word count: 3409

notes: getting to the midway point~ also don't pet tigers

A03 CHAPTER LINK

The scent hit Sam in the face the moment that they entered the tent. Strange, that it wasn’t wafting into the first tent at all. It was almost like there was an invisible barrier between them. But the scent was there now, powerful, lingering in her nostrils no matter how much she tried to snort it out.

It was an animal scent. Deep and primal. It was warm fur-covered bodies, it was mud and wild trees, it was the undercurrent of pungent markings left on bark and grass.

“How big is this place?”

Sam’s thoughts were cut off by Owen’s disbelieving voice. It was only then that Sam really took a good look around the tent. He was right--it was big. Really big. It couldn’t have been this big, only it was--it must have been an optical illusion. The type that made things look small on the outside and big on the inside.

The inside of the second tent was extremely long and extremely wide. Big enough that the enclosures weren’t tiny concrete spaces, like they might have been when Sam’s mom was a kid. Most circuses didn’t even have animals anymore.

Sam’s mom had once told her about seeing elephants in a circus as a child. They were all dressed up in fancy costumes, and they performed tricks every time the ringmaster slapped his whip on the ground. Ollie--she was only 4 at the time, she’d reminded Sam--had thought it was amazing. But her mom had frowned the entire time, and vowed to never take Ollie to a circus like that again.

But this circus did not have elephants trussed in glittery costumes and whipped backstage so they would perform for the audience under the Big Top lights.

Each cage seemed just as impossibly big as the tent, offering an almost panorama view of the enclosure inside. The front foot or so of the enclosures were bare concrete, but behind them were jungles and savannahs and landscapes of grass that--Sam was sure--were moving from an invisible breeze.

Inside of each cage was a little world.

And most importantly, inside of each cage was something wild, something that didn’t belong in the cozy little town of East Evansburg.

There were tigers pacing in a jungle. Lions stretched out on an outcropping of rock bolted to the side of their expansive cage. Parrots sitting in jungle-branches, whistling a song that Sam had never heard before. Snakes, slithering and sneaking.No wonder most of her classmates were still inside this tent, marveling at it.

It was amazing. Truly. The trio said nothing as they began to walk amongst their classmates, gaping at the animals.

It made them forget about the strange occurrences in the first tent. It made them forget about the whistling man and the young man’s warning. It made them imagine they were hiking in jungles, stretched out on savannahs, or wandering through the forest.

Even the little kids seemed entranced. They ignored their parents’ proddings for bottles or stuffed animals, and simply stared into the miniature worlds behind the bars. Sometimes, the animals even stared back.

Elisa, Owen and Sam worked their way from the last cage towards the inner part of the tent, where the entrance to the Big Top was. They wanted to savor each enclosure–and, Elisa said, she wanted to save the best (meaning, of course, the tigers) for last. The tiger enclosure was the closest to the Big Top entrance.

As they got to the much-anticipated big cats, however, they came across–nothing.

In between a cage holding a sleepy-looking orangutan and the tigers,, there was nothing. Just an empty cage, with black bars that held no animal behind them. No trees or grass or rock outcroppings. Only a small slab of concrete as a floor--the cage didn’t even go far back, like the others did.

Weird, thought Sam. Maybe it was for something small that they used to have, like lizards, that didn’t need a lot of room.

Sam leaned forward to look between the black bars for hints of what might have been there before. There was a faint streak of dark mud, or maybe, she thought grimly, a bit of leftover animal dung. It reminded her of farm mud, the kind her classmates sometimes trekked in during the fall. It was smeared by some kind of animal paw.

A flash of color appeared in her peripheral vision, and she jumped. But it was just an employee, wearing the striped vest uniform that she’d seen towards the front of the circus. It was a young woman with pigtails, who looked just a few years older than Sam and Elisa. Maybe, Sam thought, she was doing a gap year before college.

Sam laughed and smiled reflexively, but the young woman only stared into the cage.

“What used to be in here?” Sam asked.

It was then that the young woman finally smiled back.

“Oh,” she said. She shook her head and her pigtails jostled with it. “He let that one out this morning.”

Her words didn’t make any sense.

“He?” Sam asked. “Who let it out? And where did it go?” Sam imagined lizards roaming the circus, finding their way into the stands in the Big Top, surprising unsuspecting babies in their strollers or climbing up the legs of her classmates. “Isn’t that dangerous, or…”

The young woman smiled wider. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but Sam thought her smile reminded her of the clown. Eager and maybe--maybe just a bit hungry.

Then someone cleared their throat. It was a red-headed, bearded man leaning against the front of the tiger cage. He was wearing a black leather vest, and his arms were covered in tattoos. He looked at the group of them sternly and, keeping his gaze on the woman in the striped vest, shook his head.

The young woman shrugged, zipped her lips comically, and walked away.

Sam watched her leave. The bearded man continued to look at them for a moment, but then he returned his gaze to the front, eyeing everyone who walked by the tiger cage.

Elisa scoffed.

“Are all the employees here weird, or did we just get the worst luck?”

Elisa could blow it off, but Sam couldn’t. The worries that had dissipated began to creep back into her. She leaned towards Owen and Sam, and whispered low.

“Don’t you think that was… I mean… don’t you guys think something might be wrong here?” Her stomach felt like it was beginning to churn again. She didn’t know if things were genuinely off at this place, or if it was just her nerves and ridiculously active imagination working against her.

Elisa spoke in a regular voice, unperturbed. “It’s just bored employees tired of dealing with school groups and screaming babies. They’re pulling our legs.”

“But what about Aiden?”

They stared at Sam, until she realized that he’d only given Sam his name when they were alone.

“The guy in the employee…” She glanced at the bearded man and lowered her voice even more. “The guy in the employee room. He said his name was Aiden. Do you think--do you think he was serious, saying we should leave right away? Aiden said we shouldn’t let “him” find us, and now this girl says that “he” let something out?”

She didn’t tell them–not yet, and she wasn’t sure she would–about the man mentioned in the book her grandpa gave her. The smiling man. They probably already thought she was losing her mind, and bringing up some sort of Daniel Webster and the Devil type character wasn’t going to help with that.

“He didn’t want us to get caught,” said Elisa. “We’d probably get kicked out or have to miss the big show or something.”

“But he seemed really worried.” Sam frowned. “About something more serious, like…”

“He was just acting,” said Owen. “Probably makes his day more entertaining. I’d do, too, if I worked here.”

Sam sighed and stared again at the empty cage. It had a different smell about it, too. It reminded Sam of one of their neighbors, back in the city. She had two huskies that practically tackled Sam whenever she came over, and that’s what came to mind now. It was a dog-like scent. But stronger, muskier. Maybe this was where the dog from the first tent had been, before, with his two fake heads.

Sam hoped that was true. But then she recalled the way the employees at the circus kept looking at them, with eyes that seemed to analyze them, take them in. Want them, all eagerness and hunger. But why?

Elisa’s intake of breath next to her made Sam realize that her friends had marched her lost-in-her-thoughts self to the last cage before they left. The tiger cage.

It was like looking into an open doorway that led straight into the jungle. Beyond the thin concrete slab was an entirely different world. Sam thought–it was impossible, but she swore it was true–she could even hear the chirp and caw of jungle birds, the buzz of insects flitting about.

The tiger’s cage was filled with dark green jungle trees and dirt stamped with imposing paw prints; there was a stream that trickled beautifully, and as they sat there and watched, a tiger walked out from the dense brush and began to drink from it.

He was beautiful and immense and just a few feet away from them. Sam had seen tigers at the zoo, of course, but they were always far away; always lounging inside the cool cave of their habitat, far away from the fence where people stood and craned their necks, hoping to get a look.

The tiger stretched its long paws–someone behind them squealed out, “Big stretch!”--and began to approach the bars. Its claws clicked on the concrete slab, and then it sat down, tucking its paws underneath it.

Sam’s breath caught in her throat. Beside her, Elisa made a soft noise of delight.

From far away, like the vantage given from the fence at the zoo, tigers were beautiful. But up close, they were unbelievable. Sam could see the muscles underneath the striking pattern of its fur. She could smell the musk clinging to its coat. Its chest rose and fell with slow, languid breaths. The whiskers around its mouth twitched, and its eyes gazed through the bars, blinking slowly.

This tiger was right there. So close that if she leaned forward, she would be able to touch it.

She wanted to feel it. Didn’t she? She wanted to know what that thick brilliant coat felt like, she wanted to feel the warmth of its body, the strength of its sinew. And the tiger wanted her to know. She could feel that, somehow. Could feel the tiger calling to her. That’s why it sat so close to the bars. That’s why it was so calm.

Her hand reached out towards the bars, and no one said anything. No one stopped her. She glanced at the bearded man standing next to the cage, and he simply smiled. Then he nodded at her.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Her hand reached forward, twisted, and slipped through the bars.

Elisa’s hand was next to hers. Their fingers just brushed the edges of the thick coat when their hands met.

Sam looked at Elisa, and Elisa looked at Sam. Both of their eyes widened. Sam became aware of sweat beading on her neck, trickling down into the fabric of her sweater.

What were they doing?

And just like that, both of them yanked their hands back through the bars. Suddenly, it was like the world started moving again. The tiger leapt up from its position and stalked back into the forest of the jungle trees. The rush of noise around them, the myriad smells of the animals, even her own heartbeat seemed to flood back into her senses.

Sam and Elisa took a step back from the cage. Owen put a hand on either of their shoulders, and was about to speak when the man with the beard began shooing them away from the cage.

“What are you doing?!” He snapped, low and harsh. He was glowering at Sam and Elisa now, gesturing all three of them away from the cage. “Unless you want to leave here with one less hand than you came in with, you’d better get moving. Just be glad I don’t tell your teacher.”

“But you said–” Sam began. But he shook his head and physically put himself in between Sam and the cage.

She wanted to argue. She looked at Elisa–who normally had no problem telling off anyone, adult or not, in sticky situations. But what Sam saw made her almost flinch. Elisa looked—shocked. Her lips were set in a worried frown, and she wasn’t even looking at the man.

It was Owen who pulled them away from the cage. He led them to a quiet corner of the tent, where a few empty buckets had been stacked.

“Okay,” Elisa said softly. “There’s definitely something going on here.”

Relief and anxiety settled in Sam’s stomach. Relief that maybe she wasn’t talking nonsense–and worry over what it meant for things to be “going on” in the first place.

Sam reflexively took Elisa’s hand and squeezed. Eliza jumped a little, then looked up at her friend with a thin smile.

“Thanks,” she said. Then she laughed, a little breathy thing, and pulled her arm away. She shook her head and seemed to shake everything else off, her anxiety, the shock, the vulnerability that Sam rarely ever saw or even knew she had.

“So uh, what just happened there?” Elisa jerked her thumb back towards the tiger cage. The bearded man was eyeing them warily, but at least he kept glancing back at the other guests instead of glowering at them the whole time.

“You guys almost touched a tiger,” Owen said simply. “Because you’re either very dumb or very brave, and I don’t know which is worse.”

Sam frowned.

“It wasn’t like that. You don’t understand. It was like… like the tiger wanted me to touch it.”

Owen snorted.

“I think you’ve been watching too many of those ‘I raised a tiger and now it recognizes me as it’s mom’ videos. You know most of those are deliberately skewed to get views, right?”

“She’s right,” Elisa said. “I felt it too. Like it was just me and the tiger. And I wanted to touch it. And he–” Elisa, for once, actually lowered her voice before she continued. She jerked her head towards the bearded man. “He said it was okay. He told me I could do it. Then he acted like–like–”

“Like we were too unruly kids about to get our hands bitten off?” Sam added.

Elisa glanced back towards the tiger cage, where the brilliant strips of orange and black fur could be seen gliding through the jungle brush.

“We were definitely about to get our hands bitten off, I think. But not because we’re unruly.”

Sam thought about the book in her lunch bag.

“And that’s not the only weird thing that’s happened, right? The clown, and the knife-thrower, and that guy Aiden wanted us to hide from.”

Owen shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess you two have been acting kind of weird.” He crossed his arms over his shoulder. The position of his arms made it look like the Pennywise graphic on his shirt was peeking out cheekily over them.

He sighed, then looked thoughtful. “Be honest. Did that guy really tell you that you could touch the tiger?” He was looking at them so seriously that Sam bit back her instinctive desire to feel offended.

“Yeah,” she and Elisa said together.

Owen uncrossed his arms.

“Okay. Then I guess things are getting weird here. So what do we do about it? Go tell Mr. Wheeling?”

Sam dragged her lower lip underneath her teeth. The book felt like it weighed a thousand pounds in her backpack. She wanted to tell them, and she wasn’t alone in thinking things were off, so it should be okay–right?

Her frayed nerves pushed her forward, and she asked the question quickly and quietly.

“You know that book my grandpa packed in my lunch box? That old looking one? I think maybe he packed it for a reason. He was acting really strange this morning, and not in a–” She felt her cheeks flush. “Not because he had a stroke, I mean. I don’t think he’d pack my grandma’s watch for no reason, which means the book must be here for a reason, too.”

Sam told them about the book. About how it was supposedly written by someone named Beth Webster, whose husband had made a deal with this mysterious man who came out of the mist. About how he smiled. About how Jonathan’s brother came back to life, but then both of them disappeared, and Beth could only hope they were really dead.

“And I know it sounds weird, and it probably is weird, but what if we’re dealing with something like this? Like whoever “he” is that we were hiding from, the same guy who probably let the mystery animal out of the cage, is something…”

“Otherworldly?” Owen suggested.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “That.”

Owen and Elisa both looked at each other, and then at Sam.

Elisa spoke sensibly.

“Do you really think that guy in the back room–what was his name, Aiden?–was warning us about some otherworldly devil guy from a book written about 200 years ago?”

When she put it that way, it sounded ridiculous. It would sound ridiculous, Sam realized, if Elisa had put it a hundred different ways. Because the real world wasn’t like fantasy books. There were no such things as monsters and creatures that came out of the mist to offer you your greatest wishes.

Were there?

“No? Maybe?” Sam sighed. “I don’t know if he’s the same man as the one in the book. Maybe it’s just a book. But there must be a reason my grandpa put this in here. It’s the same guy or he’s the same type of thing or it’s just a warning that something’s not right here.” She looked around. The bearded man had wandered away from the tiger, and was currently crouched low in front of the lion cage,, answering questions from a little boy.

“Don’t you guys feel like something’s weird here? I know I don’t get out much, but…”

“It’s not just you,” Elisa piped in. “The knife thing was… whatever.” She shrugged, but Sam felt like she didn’t actually dismiss the knife thrower as easily as she wanted them to think. “But I heard that guy tell me to touch the tiger. I heard him!” She clenched her fists and glanced at Sam. “And maybe that clown was looking at you a little funny. Not ha-ha funny, either.”

The clown’s smile came back to Sam. So did her happy wave. And the way her eyes roamed, empty, starving, over her.

“So what do we do?” asked Owen. He was eyeing the entrance to the big top tent. He pulled his phone out of his jeans and whistled low when he looked at the screen.

“Tell Mr. Wheeling?” Sam offered. It seemed like the most logical thing to do. The safest thing to do.

Owen slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Time went by fast. We’re supposed to meet him there in a few minutes, so let’s go now. Maybe we can catch him before the show starts.”

“Sounds good to me.” Elisa grabbed both of her friends’ hands and began walking them towards the entrance to the last tent.

Cool relief shivered through Sam as they approached the flap. She could see twinkling lights and a ring of white bleachers beyond the entrance to the tent; Mr. Wheeling would be there, they’d find him, tell him they felt uncomfortable, and it would be out of their hands.

As they left, Sam heard a little boy’s voice.

“Are you sure they’re big enough? I heard lions need lots of space!”

The bearded man laughed low. “Don’t worry, little man. These cages are bigger than they look. Oh, they go on for a 100 miles back there.”

Sam felt her cool relief harden into ice.

The last words she heard as Elisa pulled her into the final tent were from the bearded man, still chuckling.

“100 miles…”

#small spaces #bright lights #fanfiction #katherine arden #afterwitch writes

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the-raging-tempest · 16 days

Note

For both of your swans 💕

🍎: Do they share any features or traits with any family members?

🍾: Does your OC believe in luck? If so, do they have any charm or ritual they do before a stressful event?

🍟: What does your OC admit to be their guilty pleasure? What actually is their guilty pleasure?

Thanks for the ask Dujour!! I answered 🍟 here! Once again Dolly rambling because can never make any answer short lmao. Sorry it's so long to anyone who reads this.

🍎: Do they share any features or traits with any family members?

Fun to have it all in one place! Yes! I’m a dork who likes to think of silly things like this! So! This will be probably way longer than it needs to be HAH. Too much info perhaps… Do I think people can inherit personality traits from people who didn't raise them? … I don't think so, but they aren't real so I shall do whatever LMAO

(Neither of the twins really took up the more detached and apathetic personalities of their elven family, but it's definitely how they were raised so it's their 'default', but they are both more passionate and impulsive.)

Lariel looks very much like a combination of her two grandmothers. With her father's coloration.

I see her having more the lightness of her build in her shoulders, wrists, ankles etc from her Elven grandmother Lahaliel. Has the pointiness of her nose. The heart shaped faced! So similar to Ordielau (who also got her mother's face shape) though most would say they look nothing alike. I think certain mannerisms she has probably remind Ianthos of his late wife. That strange thing where they never met but Lariel covers her mouth to laugh like her. Holds herself with that quiet grace much like she did.

As for the overall shape, pear shaped body she got from her father’s mother, Saesha. I imagine that's also were she (and Zrise) get their stubbornness. Lariel has her smile, lips, and cheeks. Has the slight upturned button like part of her nose. Lariel's kind of default expression is very similar to Saesha. Lariel has her pale skin, though not to her extreme. The wild whipping between gentle kindness and a powerful fury. And the sorcerer bloodline comes from her as a stormsoul sylph.

Lariel has her father's dark auburn hair and it's wavy texture. She also has his green eyes, though hers hold a slightly more blueish tint. He is also a sorcerer, so he is where Lariel inherited that.

Zrise looks a lot like his father. With certain traits from his elven side.

He has the triangular face shape of Ianthos but his chin is wider and stronger like his father. Has a very slight underbite, where his father has a more noticeable one. (When not cursed) Had his father's more ruddy skin color. Got part of the roundness, less harsh, nose from his father. He also has his father's smile. Which can be surprisingly disarming, boyish and mischievous. But not the one Zrise usually wears. Zrise has his father's eye placement. As in they way Zrise's brow comes forward and his eyes are deeper back. The strong brow being one of Banom notorious traits. It can make him come across much more unfriendly or intimidating when he wishes. Zrise also inherited his father's quick temper. Ordielau makes strange comments about Zrise's appearance as he ages and looks more noticeably like his father.

Zrise inherited his red hair (the curse makes it black) as more a combination of his elven grandmother and his father. That recessive gene just popped out for him. His grandmothers strawberry blond meeting the dark auburn meaning they both carried red. Zrise's build is a strange amalgamation. He didn't inherit the more slight elven build of narrow shoulders and hips, but he also didn't inherit his father's more top heavy build of wide shoulders narrow hips. He more so got a hybrid trapezoid.

From his elven side. He got his silver blue eyes he got from Ianthos. Got the strong nose, it's length, and downward point from him as well. Zrise has his mother's slight chin dimple. His mother and elven grandmother's lip shape.

🍾: Does your OC believe in luck? If so, do they have any charm or ritual they do before a stressful event?

This is such an interesting question. I think they sit on equal but opposite sides.

Lariel believes in luck in the sense of the randomness of the universe. Where you are born, who your parents are, what magic you have, what god listens to you, it's random. That's 'luck'. Not that it's something one can change or influence. She doesn't really believe in fate. Not a fan of the divine she rejects that some greater power might control your destiny. She has a strangely indifferent opinion towards luck. Things just are or are not. Things you can't change just are, but what you do with them is what matters. She does NOT view institutional or 'human' made problems as unchangeable. To be clear. More than she believes luck is irrelevant to the good deeds you do. 'Luck' might mean you are struggling to survive, she has empathy for that. And that does not mean she would not try to change the situation. But she believes in PEOPLE and the good they can accomplish over luck.

Lariel is not a very superstitious person. Despite loving stories and folklore. She views the world in very non-judgmental terms. Very passively accepting. She has curiosity. But not really interested in changing something, unless it hurts others. So she has no charms or rituals. She just looks inward for comfort. It's not about succeeding or failing. It's that she'd rather live in the world were she made the difficult choice and sacrifice for what a better world could be, than not.

Zrise says he does not believe in luck. Then turns around and says things like 'If luck is real I have the worst of it.' He deep down DOES believe in luck. But it's a hard pill to swallow. It makes him feel helpless. If every bad thing that happened to him was actually out of his control… then he's well and truly fucked. If every good thing that happens to him is only luck, fate, or destiny… then he should give up. His belief in luck harshly chafes against his wish to be in control. It's also WHY he so strongly devotes himself to a god. If it's all out of his control, he might as well have someone divinely better than him in his corner. If he must be a mere piece on the board he might as well try to ingratiate himself to the one who might move him around. This fight within him is often what can make him cycle between the two extremes of 'I must do everything I can to control my situation' and 'it's all hopeless and nothing matters I'm doomed'.

Depending on the stressful event, if its battle or something within the realm of his Goddess. He prays. Even though Calistra is not the most active or communicative Goddess. If it is something he would NOT like Calistria to be witness to… he has no comfort or ritual to turn to. He is a more superstitious person than his sister. But he is very fatalistic when it comes to his own luck. Deep down he wonders if even appealing for good luck would just turn itself around on him. Slapping him with something worse.

#oc: zrise #oc: lariel #ask game #ask #lmao I am so sorry this is so long #hope this is coherent

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kurocrowdetective · 1 year

Text

@persona-ramblings

That Akira was in awe was an understatement. The man? just materialized behind the other boy ‘Robin Hood’ he never had seen anything like it…it looked like something ripped straight out of a comic book. It paid him no mind but the guards of this place were destroyed in seconds dissolving in black smoke. He didn’t have time to react when the last one came at him. It knocked him to the ground knocking off his glasses in the process. He scooted backwards reaching for something anything to defend himself with.

He found nothing. His school bag just had his books and some pencils and he could tell it would do nothing against this thing. He squeezed his eyes shut putting his hands up to half heartedly protect himself when he heard a voice.

‘Going to give up this easily? What about your justice?’ The voice was like his own but deeper more modulated.

Instead of answering he got to his feet wind whipping around him throwing the shadow away.

“No I’m not ready to give up not yet” he said.

‘Very well I have heeded your resolve’ the voice answered as a spike of pain went through Akira’s head. He held it crying out as the voice continued.

“Vow to me. I am thou, thou art I... Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name, and release thy rage! Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained to Hell itself!”

Something had covered his face something that he had to get off…now. He reached up and tugged. It didn’t come loose so he tugged again throwing the mask to the ground.

It turned into blue fire that surrounded him.

‘Call upon my name release thy rage’

“Come Arséne!”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Akechi watched the spectical from behind his own mask now. His arms crossed as he watched the shadow knock the boy to the ground. He couldn’t help his lips from turning upward slightly into a smile. He was just about to jump in with Robin until something happened. His crimson eyes staring at the figure the boy just released. His smile grew wider.

“So you are special after all” he mused to himself as he watched the red and black figure appear. The boys clothes also changed. All black. The complete counter to his own. He would have to keep an eye on this boy. He wasn’t going to let some random Persona user foil his plans.

After the last shadow had been defeated by the boy Akechi walked towards him, clapping his hands as he did so.

“You really are...” he started to say but stopped himself. No. He wasn’t going to give him too much information. Not yet.

“It seems you’ve awakened to your true self. We call it...a Persona.” he said as a matter of factly. He knew the other was going to have more questions, but everything in due time would be revealed.

“I do apoligize but it isn’t safe here for a new user. Although, it seems you could be a natural. If you venture here again...” Akechi said as he thought of his next words. He was going to use him to his advantage, so he hoped the other would heed his advice.

“Try not to die.” he said before walking past the other and vanished, leaving Mementos and back to the real world.

Once Akechi made it back to his apartment flat in Kichijoji he pulled out a chair and leaned back, his head relaxing all the way back so his hair was off his face. He thought about the boy and his Persona. He couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. Up until that point Akechi had never met another Persona user, much less one with so much potentinal. Akechi thought himself special, but it was not proven that it may not have been the case. His eyebrows nitting in the center of his forehead. He sighed deeply.

“Whatever the case I do hope we meet again.” he spoke to himself as he let his eyes fall shut.

#oop another long one lol #lets time skip to the tv station if thats okay #akeshu #shuake #akechi goro #akechi muse #persona 5 #persona 5 roleplay #persona-ramblings

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mischievous-serpent · 1 year

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Scheming in a Winter Wonderland (Loki X Reader)

Summary: Y/n wakes up to find her yard looking like a Winter Wonderland and immediately calls her boyfriend to come over and play in the snow with her. Although reluctant at first, Loki would do anything to make his girlfriend happy.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,241

Note: This one-shot is also available on Wattpad under the username WaningMoon_125.

***Y/n's POV***

The harsh sound of branches hitting against my window awakens me from my deep sleep. I slowly blink open my eyes and stretch out my arms, only to quickly pull them back underneath the covers when the frigid air touches my skin. This is the first morning since winter began where I'm too cold to get out of bed. Why is it so chilly in my bedroom?

The cold is forgotten as soon as I glance out my window. White flurries of snow are steadily falling, forming piles around the base of my house. I fling the covers off of me and race out of my bedroom, my legs getting tangled in my blankets on my way out. Grabbing my phone, I hastily dial Loki's number. The phone only rings once before I hear Loki greet me from the other side of the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Loki, I have an emergency. How fast can you get here?" I question him through the phone.

Before I even have time to process what's happening, Loki's in front of me, holding my shoulders in a firm but gentle grip. "What's wrong? Are you injured, sick? Did your cat die?" he frantically interrogates me.

"What? No, I'm fine, and so is Maya," I quickly assure him. As if to prove my point, my orange and white tabby cat wraps herself around his legs.

"Then what's wrong, darling?" Loki wonders, brows furrowing in confusion.

"Nothing's wrong, Loki. It's snowing!" I exclaim, pointing to the window, where snow can still be seen dancing around in the cold winter air.

Loki blinks a couple of times before slowly removing his hands from my shoulders. "While I'm glad you're alright, the fact that it's snowing outside hardly constitutes as an emergency," he states, glaring at me with a disapproving look.

"It is an emergency, Loki. It's snowing outside, and we're in here," I point out in exasperation.

"Exactly. We're nice and warm inside while the harsh winds and freezing snow are outside," Loki reminds me. "I don't see how that's a problem."

"It's a problem because we can't make snow angels, have snowball fights, or build a snowman from inside," I exclaim.

Loki starts spluttering in indignation. "I'm not going outside while it's snowing just to make snow angels with you, darling."

"Alright. It's such a pity, though, that I'll have to drink the hot chocolate all by myself," I tut.

Snapping his head toward me, Loki questions, "What hot chocolate?"

"Well, I planned on making us hot chocolate when we come back inside after enjoying the marvelous snowy weather, but if I'm the only one going outside, then I'm the only one who needs hot chocolate," I tell him, a sly grin on my face. "Too bad. The hot chocolate's salted caramel flavored, too."

Ever since I found out that there isn't candy or many sweet things on Asgard, I always use sweet treats to bribe Loki whenever I want him to do something, and most of the time it works. Loki glances at me for a few seconds, an annoyed expression on his face, before face palming. He sighs before shaking his head in surrender, causing a large smile to make its way onto my face. "Fine, I'll go outside and play in the snow with you," he agrees. He snaps his fingers and a fluffy black jacket, a black pair of snow pants, black snow boots, a red scarf and hat, and black gloves appear on my body. "You're not allowed to freeze, though," he tells me. Snapping his fingers once again, a pair of black and green snow pants, a green jacket, black snow boots, and black gloves suddenly materialize on him. I happily hum before opening my kitchen door and stepping outside.

The frigid winds immediately whip against my face. The snow continues to quickly fall, landing on my face. It melts within seconds, which causes water to drip into my eyes. The outdoors almost looks like my own personal Winter Wonderland. Blinking rapidly to clear my vision, I make my way over to my yard, which is now covered in a thick blanket of snow and start making a snow angel. "Come on, Loki," I encourage, waving him over with my hand.

"If it'll make you happy, I suppose I'll demean myself by rolling around in the snow like a bumbling idiot," Loki sighs, trudging over to me.

"Hey! I'll have you know, I take offense to that!" I shout in indignation. Loki laughs before dropping down onto the snow next to me. Together, we begin to make snow angels, and when we finish, they look as if they're holding hands.

"Let's have a snowman competition," I suggest, already heading over to an open area, where I can roll snow to create my snowman's body.

"I don't see how mortals find this amusing," Loki comments, "but that won't stop me from winning this competition."

For the next half hour, Loki and I work really hard on building our snowmen. My snowman has eyes and a mouth made of small pebbles, a carrot nose, a plain blue scarf, and a pink hat with snowflakes covering him. After I'm completely satisfied with my snowman, I spin around to see how Loki's doing on his. Any words I might have had, die on my tongue once I see Loki's creation. Instead of a simple snowman like we were supposed to be doing, he made an entire snow sculpture of himself, complete with his horned helmet. "What the..."

"Oh, hey, Y/n. I'm just finishing up my snowman," Loki says with a chuckle.

"T...Th...That is not a snowman!" I splutter.

"So you admit that I won this little competition?" Loki asks, gesturing toward his snow sculpture.

"No way!" I exclaim in offense. "I'm the one who actually followed the rules and..." I squeal in surprise when a snowball hits me directly in the forehead. I slowly lift my arm and wipe the snow out of my eyes before glaring at the person who threw the snowball.

Loki bursts into laughter but immediately stops once he sees a malicious grin appear on my face. Picking up a small pile of snow, I compress it together before sending it flying toward Loki. He dodges just in time to avoid a snowball to the face. "I'll get you for that, darling," Loki promises as he begins chasing after me.

Another hour of flinging snowballs at each other leaves me soaking wet. I barely notice, though, because of how much fun I'm having. Loki and I eventually get to the point where we're too tired to continue throwing snowballs. We flop down in the snow next to each other and convulse with laughter, our voices full of joy.

Not long after, we go back inside, and I change into a dry pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt before making Loki and I a cup of hot chocolate. "I know I can be unbearable sometimes, Loki, so I really appreciate you spending your day playing in the snow with me," I thank my boyfriend, who is happily sipping his cup of hot chocolate.

"You're not unbearable at all, darling. Besides, I quite enjoyed playing outdoors in the snow with you," he tells me. A small smile suddenly graces his features as he whispers in my ear, "I still won the snowman competition, though, my dear."

#loki imagine #loki layfeyson x you #loki odinson #mcu loki #x reader #marvel #god of mischief #snow

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tinyzoologist · 11 months

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Happy

ofmd mini fic, Edizzy angst & fluff, pre/post canon tw: blood, injury, scars. also on ao3

“Are you happy?” Izzy looks out at the black expanse of ocean before them, wonders if the wind swept his words away before the other boy could hear. Something twitches at the edge of his vision - a narrow shoulder hunched into a shrug.

“Hm,” Teach says. His face is soft and boyish where Izzy’s is sharp, but his eyebrows are dark, drawn together like storm clouds. “‘s not the point, is it?”

“Suppose not,” Izzy agrees. He tends to do that, agree with Teach. He’d just wanted to ask because lately he’s been feeling… lighter. Less alone, like the worst is behind them somehow. But survival isn’t happiness, that much he knows. Teach looks at the stars and Izzy looks at Teach and their night watch passes in silence until dawn.

***

“Edward, you can’t fucking keep doing this. You could’ve- you could still- Fuck. Fang!” Izzy feels his knees buckle under his captain’s weight. Ed must have passed out, either from the knife wound or just to make Izzy’s life more difficult.

With Fang’s help, he drags him to the great cabin, peels away his bloody leathers to assess the damage once again. There’s a gash across Ed’s chest, not too deep but steadily oozing red. It needs stitches. The scar will go nicely with all the others - Edward has quite the collection by now.

There’s the nest of raised bumps just left of his navel. One is from Izzy’s own rapier, made to run Ed through at gunpoint because his captain is a fucking lunatic. Bullets, whips, glowing embers, all have left their mark on Blackbeard’s skin and still it’s not enough. Still he’s the first across the plank with too little cover, like he’s hungry for something more than blood and gold.

Izzy’s needle pierces his captain’s flesh and Ed stirs, hisses a pained inhale.

“Got me good, huh, Iz?” Ed’s lips pull back revealing bloodied teeth. It’s something like a smile but it’s giddy, manic.

“Yeah. Happy now?” Izzy rolls his eyes, pushes the needle back in, one hand firmly on Ed’s hip to stop him from twitching.

“We won, didn’t we?” Ed laughs, rough and mirthless and Izzy nods. Power isn’t happiness, he knows that. He bites off the thread, wraps a bandage around Ed’s ribcage and goes to clean his own wounds.

***

It’s more bearable at night, when the stifling heat of late June days gives way to darkness and a cool breeze coming in from the ocean. They can see it from here, even smell it when the wind is right.

Ed’s steps are uneven, teacups rattling slightly on their saucers but Izzy knows better than to offer help. Not like his own gait ever fully adapted to solid ground. Izzy takes his cup from Ed’s hands, hears him settle into the rocking chair beside Izzy’s with a groan. When they close their eyes, it’s almost like the swaying of a ship.

Ed’s hair is pure silver in the moonlight, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiles to himself.

“What?” Izzy asks, blowing on his tea.

“Nothing, Iz. Just happy.”

Ed looks at Izzy, Izzy looks at the stars.

“Yeah, Ed. Me too.”

#ofmd #writeblr #edizzy #thinking about sad old men working through decades of trauma again. as you do.

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furashuban · 1 year

Text

Vernon’s Straitjacket

Words: 1.1k

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43791514

Summary: Mr. Vernon couldn’t help but notice how abnormally lengthy they were on the little girl’s arms, how smaller she appeared to be with the garment being so oversized, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Ah, so that’s where my straitjacket went.” he pointed out.

When Mr. Vernon comes to tuck in Leila for the night, he finds her still awake and practicing with his straitjacket on.

The Other Mr. Vernon would not be home tonight, called by Mr. Arnold at the Grand Oak Resort to show up last minute and help manage their understaffed kitchen. Before leaving, he made sure to whip up a nice and plenteous dinner for his family—his husband Dante (the Mr. Vernon) and their adopted daughter Leila. It also meant that for this evening, after all the delicious food had been finished, it was up to Mr. Vernon to check up on their child and wish her goodnight.

The now-vacant magic shop was closing, and the white-haired magician still suited his fanciful black tuxedo as he strode around making sure everything looked to be in place. Wands, magic kits, Presto the parrot resting on his perch, and most importantly, a cardboard-covered ledger, which he clapped on both sides and flung it upwards—only for the book to vanish without a trace. Mr. Vernon let out a tired but relieved sigh once everything in the store was all in order. Vernon’s Magic Shop officially bid the comfy town of Mineral Wells goodnight for now; a big sign reading CLOSED on the door and the bright lights in and around the store blipping into darkness. All that was left now for the magician was to head upstairs and see how his little girl was doing.

Mr. Vernon had tucked in Leila almost a hundred times by this point; it became his and his husband’s routine ever since she was adopted from Mother Margaret’s Home. The girl was not used to sleeping by herself, but what’s more, in the days between when she first met Mr. Vernon and when she was taken in, Leila had nightmares of being trapped in Mother Margaret’s office closet once again. Unlike before, she could not get out, only able to escape by waking up out of fright. The girl feared these nightmares would never end, but thankfully, they came at a halt once her parents kept her company every night since she first moved in. She had a habit of saying sorry for keeping them awake before they could head to bed themselves, but her parents allayed her guilt, promising they were there because they wanted to, and the sincerity in their words and voices convinced her to rest soundly at last.

A gentle knock on the door, yet no answer from the other side. It was barely after a second until Mr. Vernon turned the knob and lightly pushed the bedroom door open, expecting to see Leila already in bed and half-asleep. But to his surprise, there was his child, sitting in the center of the room and staring back at Mr. Vernon with curious eyes. Belts, ropes, padlocks and hair pins scattered on the floor; a rope in her grasp and a long belt dangling over her shoulder, looking as though she had been figuring out how to fasten and unfasten each harness all at once.

“It’s almost time for bed, Leila, what are you still doing up and about?” Mr. Vernon asked gently.

“I, um…” the girl could only let out, the sleeves of her coat forming the outline of her fists clenching through the cloth. Mr. Vernon couldn’t help but notice how abnormally lengthy they were on the little girl’s arms, how smaller she appeared to be with the garment being so oversized, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Ah, so that’s where my straitjacket went.” he pointed out.

“Sorry, dad.” Leila’s face flushed. “I promised I was going to return it later. I just thought it would be cool to wear while I practice, b-but I wasn’t actually gonna use it like it should either.”

“No worries, dear, it gladdens me to see you keeping up with your practice.” Mr. Vernon kneeled down, gathering all the loose ropes and belts; Leila helping tidy up by picking up the hair pins. “But nonetheless, it’s getting rather late, and rest is very important for any magician.”

“But so is enthusiasm to practice.” Leila sang, yawning afterward.

“Which I’m proud to see you have a lot of.” Mr. Vernon patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll always have plenty of time tomorrow.”

Leila took a look at her hands sheathed by the straitjacket’s sleeves. “Actually, I was wondering…”

“Yes, Leila?”

“Would it be okay if I slept with the straitjacket on tonight?” Leila asked. The funny thing was, the straitjacket somewhat reminded her of the old gowns she wore when she still resided in Mother Margaret’s. “That way I feel motivated to continue practicing the moment I wake up.”

It was only a half-truth of course; Leila Vernon was always motivated no matter what. She also knew that Mr. Vernon would never allow her to practice escaping in the straitjacket yet, not until she had practiced enough about untying knots and picking open padlocks. But deep down, if not a bit oddly, there was something about the straitjacket that made the girl feel more at home. It was cozy without the ropes and belts, sure enough, but knowing it belonged to her father—the magician whose show at her old orphanage inspired her to take up escapology and stage magic—wearing it not only strengthened her, but it also felt like her father was right there with her, practicing or not.

And maybe, just maybe, she thought it would help to be a little sentimental when sleeping alone. “Also,” Leila continued, deciding to tell a little more of the truth, “I think it will help me sleep better, too, and then you won’t have to wait here until I fall asleep anymore.”

Whichever reason Leila had to keep the straitjacket on, Mr. Vernon believed in them wholeheartedly; he knew it would all lead to his daughter being happy like he wanted. “I wouldn’t mind that at all, my dear.” he assured, grinning once more. “Just don’t have any of the harnesses strapped on while you rest. I can say from experience, it won’t be very comfortable.” The two then shared a sprightly giggle.

Mr. Vernon walked his daughter to her bed. “Right.” he left a kiss on the girl’s forehead. “Hope you rest well, my dear, and if you need anything else, me and poppa are just across the hall.”

“Thanks dad,” the brunette quickly gave the old magician a tight embrace. “Nighty night.” she whispered, feeling her dad’s arms wrap back around her.

“Nighty night.”

When Mr. Vernon stood up from the bed, Leila finally laid down and cuddled up under her blanket. As the door shut gently, so did the girl’s eyes before sinking deeper into slumber. She had a dream where she was trapped in somewhere familiar, difficult to move around and see. Back in the office closet at Mother Margaret’s—except she would not be stuck there the whole night anymore. In the dream, nearly as it had happened in real life, she finally freed herself with swiftness and with ease, like she had been practicing how to escape a million times to her heart’s content.

#the magic misfits #my works #fanfiction #leila vernon #dante vernon #mr vernon

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90363462 · 2 years

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At this point if you white folks keep dressing up in blackface you might as well take your whipping and the foot in your butthole because I’m super done talking. Get your whipping you disobedient cracker you

Spooky Soup Cookies: A Ghastly Gallery Of Ghoulish Celebrities And Politicians Who Dressed Up In Blackface

Bossip

Bossip Video

Source: James Andanson / Getty

Welp, it’s that time of year again. While most people are dressing up and going to Halloween parties to have fun, we’re sitting here waiting to see which ignorant, tone-deaf, non-room-reading white person will don Blackface for clout points and feel the 280-character backlash.

This train is never late and the tradition of mocking Black skin is something that a great many elite whites have practiced over the years. The list is long but we took the liberty to point of some of the “standouts” if you will.

Source: Randy Holmes / Getty

Late-night host Jimmy Kimmel had a longstanding sketch where he performed as ex-NBA baller Karl Malone.

Apparently, people like *peers through spectacles* @clockdiesel think this type of thing is pure comedy…

Source: Christopher Polk/NBC / Getty

Speaking of Jimmy, the other Jimmy, Fallon, was also a big fan of painting his face to mock melanated skin. He once performed a Chris Rock impression on Regis Philbin’s show in full Blackface complete with racist jokes. Jamie Foxx ain’t trippin’ tho. #NeverForget

Source: BLAIR GABLE / Getty

But its not just actors and comedians who have enjoyed the white privilege of consequence-free Black skin, Canada’s gun-banning Prime Minister Justin Trudeau once painted his skin to appear ethnic while wearing an “Arabian Nights” “costume” at the big age of 29-years-old. Hard to believe he didn’t know better…

Again, certain people see this as hilarious. We’re not laughing…

Source: Lou Rocco / Getty

We also have wince-worthy woke white Joh Behar from The View who outed herself as a proud Blackface participant saying, “It was a Halloween party. I went as a beautiful African woman,” she told her cohosts. “That’s my hair… I had makeup that was a little bit darker than my skin.”

We’d be remiss if we left someone as A-list as Howard Stern off the list. He was outed during an ironic case of white-on-white crime AND the pot calling the kettle black at the same damn time!

Cool, Donnie Jr., now do yourself, we have no doubt whatsoever that there are photos of you somewhere in blackface or using the n-word to degrade Black people. It’s practically part of your DNA.

Source: Orlando Sentinel / Getty

In lesser known political circles, Florida Secretary of State Michael Ertel resign from office back in 2019 after he was outed for dressing up like a “Hurricane Katrina victim” in Blackface. Which is doubly interesting because it is an acknowledgement that the Hurricane affected Black people the most as did the subsequent lack of aid and resources.

Source: Gotham / Getty

Multi-hyphenate do-nothing socialite jawn Gigi Hadid took heavy fire after appearing on the cover of VOGUE Italia looking…not like this above photo in the slightest…

Stop it, 5.

Source: Icon Sportswire / Getty

Back in the 60s when Ivey was in college, she admittedly wore blackface to act in a skit. According to INSIDER: “I fully acknowledge — with genuine remorse — my participation in a skit like that back when I was a senior in college,” she said.

Sure, Jan.

The list goes on and on and on and we suspect that by the end of this spooky day, there will be more names to add to list.

Happy Halloween.

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mxtxnovelrealm · 2 years

Text

Heavns Official Blessing's Chapter 2 review!

Chapter 2 starts simple with them at the cafe still and discussing the last bits of the mission of the ghost groom. We see a bit more of Nen Feng and Fu yao's personality here. One is sipping the tea that is offered while the other is ignoring it while whipping off his fingers.

I think the both really do want to help his Highness with this task but I also think one wants to more than the other. At this point its hard to say what they could be thinking. However Fu Yao is more sarcastic and gives off the 'lets get this over with type of vibes.'

Right at this Xie Lian is like 'ok I'm done for now I'm going to lay somehwhere.' and he really meant anywhere because he was heading for bushes! This just shows how much he got used to just laying wherever in the last 800 years! While the other two are like 'No. Let's get a temple!'

They find a Nan Yang temple and settle in there. This is where is different to the Donghua differs from the book and Manhua. Which I am not sure if it has to do with censoring or to speed up the plot point or a bit of both?

For example in the book and Anime this is where we first see the young maiden where in the Donghua we meet her right off the bat outside the tea shop.

Of course before she enters we learn why the temple of Nan Yang has meny female believers as once a time his temple was the temple of 'Dick Yang' which is funny and it was a delightful bit of humor there that I enjoyed.

That is of course when the young Maiden enters and right off the bat Fu yao calls her ugly. Another difference is her appearance. In the Book she is read to have a flat face with a crooked nose. In the Donghua she is just plane looking with freckles but the Manhua she is actually drawn kind of cute. I don't know why the change? I just thought it odd? But yeah she is pictured be a bit more.... Odd looking in the book. If I think about it later I'll post screen shots of her in both appearances along with Xie Lian's description about her.

At this point they notice she has a tear in her skirt. Nen Feng becomes very nervous at this and Xie Lian seem to notice as he quickly tells him not to be nervous. Though the Junior is so nervous he can't even speak.

Xie Lian takes action here. He takes off his outer robe and tossed it down to Xiao-Ying. She takes it off though unsure where it came from and lays it out on the alter. This of course causes Xie Lian to jump down with Hsi chest bare and try again to get her to cover. Of course Hsi luck is bad and he ends up with a slap to the face! Poor guy!

Here we see that Xie Lian is covered in bandages from his chest, neck, and arms are wrapped in bandages and some cuts could be seen underneath. We read here that Xie Lian had actually sprained his neck even! It's healed by now but still! He fell that hard! At least he says he fell. Nan Feng and Fu Yao don't believe it of course. However Xie Lian states (at least to himself) that if it was a fight he wouldn't have been so hurt. Which means he has confidence in his abilities. (why wouldn't he though? Being alive 800 years! He should have Amazeing skill!) This is also when we see the cursed shackle. Which is described as a collar. It's also mentioned later that it's something Xie Lian can feel. However again in the Manhua and Donghua it looks more like tattoo markings? I am guessing that will be changed later? I mean I am not sure. Though even the drawing in the book it looks like a plane black band around his neck.

They two 'juniors' stare at it and Xie Lian thinks it has to do with them never seeing one before? Though I have a hunch it's something else.

When that is settled and Nen Feng grabs robes for Xie Lian they sit and talk again only for the two 'Juniors' to start fighting. And what do they fight about? The Crown Prince Xie Lian himself!

They fight and throw stuff and Xie Lian thinks about eating a meat bun that is old only for one of them to fling it from his hand. They even scold him about it being dirty. It's a very fun read and you really can see dispite 'first time meeting one another' that they are all also comfortable with one another. At least that is how I see it? It must also help that they are not on the heavenly realm and can be more relaxed? I am not sure. However it's enjoyable to read and I really like the interactions between all three men here. It ends with Xie Lian scolding them only for Men Feng to scold back about eating dirty food.

It skips to the next day here. They are back at the tea Shop. Fu Yao asks why they are discussing the mission there in the open and Xie Lian simply explains 'If people over hear us they will just think us insane.' Which I love him for. Like this and that is no big deal hahah!

Then Xie Lian asks simply what do they do with the creature once it's found.

Fu Yao: Kill it

Nan Feng: No shit.

I died. Like Can you be any sassier? I love these two and their bickering with one another. 'No shit' hahaha.

Then Xie Lian is like 'Dont be rude. What did Fu Yao say that was wrong?' like Seriously tho. Haha!

Of course the fun banter is interupted with the men of the town pretending to do a wedding to lure out the Ghost Groom. Ah the leader I off the bat don't like.

Poor Xiao Ying gets pushed about to and she is just trying to stop them from hurting a possible inocent person only for it to be a wooden puppet of sorts. It's honestly pretty poor attempt and they are blinded by greed to see that this plan won't work. Fake bride, fake wedding, and roudy men. Xie Lian sees it off the bat.

The chapter of the book actually ends here with the fake bride's head falling off and rolling out of the sadden.

I want to review Chapter 3 however seeing as it's also the introduction of Hua Cheng (so to speak) I want to really focus on it and make it nice.

However Chapter 2 was a fun chapter. We really get to see Nen Feng and Fu Yao's personality in this and just how much they seem to be annoyed to be there. Are they actually annoyed to be helping the Prince or to be partnered together? Xie Lian really seems to think it's helping him but I think it's the other. It's protrayed as they are annoyed to be helping Xie Lian but the way the two argue it seems like it's more working together. However Fu Yao seems to be perhaps a bit of both? Like he is just annoyed in general? Where Nen Feng seems more serious about the situation.

Non the less it was a fun chapter and one of the more shorter ones of the book! Review on Chapter 3 and probably 4 will be coming soon!

#heaven official blessings #tiān guān cì fú #Xie Lian #hua cheng #Nen feng #Fu Yao #Hulian #book review

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foxtricksterwriting · 8 months

Text

Writing Dump; Roksana 1

Author's Note: None

Tags: @the-vatican-if

Pairing: Stevie x Roksana

~~~~~~~~~~

Roksana blows the cigarette smoke into the wind as fae lean on the balcony railing. The clouds are grey and black, the scent of rain and ozone is carried on the whipping wind as it rips at faer hair and clothes. They were planning on sleeping, but their mind had other plans. Paranoia would grasp at their mind as they closed their eyes, the feeling of being trapped, like they could never escape the hole- no, grave- they've dug for themself. Really, bun shouldn't even be surprised at this point. The same song and dance would happen after every job and bun would walk into the same despair-inducing pit time and time again.

"Will this ever end?" Fae mutter. The traffic catches faer eye, the cars and their lights leave a bitter taste in faer mouth. The world spins even while you stand still. Their grandfather had said that, once. He had said it in a attempt to comfort them, but it did the opposite. The saying had instilled a deep rooted, long standing fear in their heart. One that, to this day, bun cannot shake. "Roksana? You awake?" A shout from the hotel's door breaks buns spiral; Stevie. It's Stevie, at buns door. Stevie St Cloud, the man that's swept faer up into his crazy lifestyle with no caution at all. The man that's caused this whole demon debacle. The man that's currently, unknowingly, holding faer heart ransom.

Roksana rushes across the room, stubbing out faer cigarette on the way. "A moment, please!" Fae call, snatching up a robe to cover faer sleepwear. Really, there's no need since they're wearing a typical set of bubblegum pink satin pajamas but the need for professionalism-to put up a wall, to keep him out- won this time. They wrap it around their body and tie it loosely, not expecting him to stay long. Then, they open the door.

He towers over them, but that's no surprise. Roksana stands at 160 centimeters or 5'3ft, most tower over bun. He has a slight sway to his stance and the scent of cheap alcohol wafts across buns nose. He lights up when he sees bun, "Hey!"

"Hello, Stevie. Is there something you need?" Roksana crosses buns arms and holds buns head high. "Yeah, me an' the rest of the band are drinking right now an' I wanted to know if you wanted to join us," He says, trying to adjust himself to look cooler. Bun almost wants to laugh, he doesn't need to try, but bun shakes buns head quickly. "No, thanks for the offer. And you-- what is that?" Roksana's eyes zero in on Stevie's right hand. Fae grab his hand and glare at his bruised and bloody knuckles. "What happened? Who did you fight?" Fae look up at him, faer face hasher than fae mean it to be.

"He deserved it. Was the same dude that called you a whore at the venue," He explains, letting them look at his knuckles. "I told you-- it doesn't matter, come," they pull him into their room and push him towards the bed. "Sit and don't you dare move," bun points at him, as a mock warning while bun grabs buns bag. Bun rifles through it until bun finds buns first aid bag. Bun grabs some bandages and antiseptic wipes. "Oh, I'm gettin' patched up by nurse Roks?" Stevie smirks at faer playfully while fae cringe. "Do not call me that," Fae shake faer head as fae bandage Stevie's knuckles. "Maybe I should get into more fights with you around," Stevie continues, undeterred. "No, you idiot, you should not," Fae scolds him, but it barely has any of the usual bite.

They're uncharacteristically soft with him, almost like they're scared of hurting him somehow. They pat the bandages when they're done, subconsciously rubbing over his knuckles. Roksana looks up at him. Bun can see he's searching for something to say but is coming up short. They share the look in thick silence, the mood shifting to something different.

"ROKSANA?!" Ace's voice rattles both Stevie and Roksana. The younger man is outside, in the hallway, shouting at the door, also drunk by the sound of it. "YOU WANNA DRINK WITH US??" A beat of silence, then "IS STEVIE IN THERE WITH YOU?!"

Roksana shoves Stevie's hand into his chest like it burned bun. Bun rushes to the door and throws it open, revealing Ace. He smiles at bun, but bun beats him before he can say whatever he was going to say, "Stop shouting, you drunken buffoon!" Faer face is deep red and faer fluster stains faer words clearly for Ace to hear. "Oh, were y'all busy? I can--"

"No! And, no, I do not want to drink with you!! Now get out of here!" Fae bluster. "Roks, we can--" Stevie gets up from the bed and approaches them.

"OUT!!!" They screech, pointing out into the hall and almost smacking Ace on the chin. They promptly shove Stevie out and slam the door shut. Him and Ace stare at the door, a little bewildered. Then, Stevie shoves him, "You fuckin' asshole!"

"I'm sorry, man! I didn't know!!"

#MC: Roksana #the vatican #The vatican IF #Stevie st cloud #Fanfic?#writing dump #not proofread

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teatimeallovertown · 2 years

Text

I was bored and dealing with a little writer's block so here is a little drabble about Mickey and Liam. The show didn't give us much about their dynamic but I think it could have been cute. So if you're also bored, please enjoy!

Technically, Liam has known Mickey Milkovich almost all his life. Plenty of stories about him as a baby involve Mickey as a peripheral character.

He has a few memories of Mickey from back then. Or at least heard other people’s memories enough times they’ve become his.

But mostly, his impressions of Mickey came from what he heard from his family growing up.

Dirty, convict, violent, aggressive, crazy.

Liam doesn’t really understand how those fit in with someone Ian dated for years. Before Ian went to prison, he would sometimes see him swiping through old photos on his phone, fingers hovering over Mickey’s face.

Why would Ian miss someone like that?

But then he finally meets Mickey.

He stumbles into the bathroom and there’s a person already in there, brushing his teeth with Ian’s toothbrush.

The house has been filled with people Liam doesn’t know for weeks but this one is different. For one, he’s not Mexican.

But more importantly, he’s the guy from Ian’s phone.

Mickey.

“Hey.”

Mickey jumps, whipping around to face Liam with wide blue eyes.

“The fuck? You can’t just fucking scare people like that, kid. Some of us got PTSD and shit.”

He sounds like how Liam thought Mickey would sound. Looks like him too. His face is covered in cuts.

“What happened to you?” he asks, pointing at Mickey’s face. Mickey reaches a hand up to press at the cut. Liam reads the words on his fingers.

F-U-C-K.

Mickey doesn’t answer though, he’s looking at Liam with wide, surprised eyes. Liam shifts a little. It’s the look he usually gets when people see him with his siblings or find out he’s Frank and Monica’s kid. But Mickey wouldn’t be surprised by him being black. Mickey’s seen Liam before.

“What?” he asks, feeling a bit self-conscious

“Nothin’,” Mickey replies, shaking his head a bit. “You’re just uh...you’re big. Last time I saw you, you were in diapers and shit.”

“You were gone for a long time,” Liam responds.

“Yeah, kid. I was.”

“Did you break out of jail again?”

Liam doesn’t really remember that, but like when Mickey was around when he was a baby, he’s heard about it.

Mickey the violent fugitive. Who almost convinced Ian to throw his life away and run to Mexico.

For some reason, the guy in his bathroom doesn’t seem like the guy his family used to talk about.

“Nah. They let me out legally this time. But anyone comes around here and is looking for me, tell ‘em I’m not here. Alright kid?”

“Alright,” Liam agrees. Frank’s had the same request more than once. “So what happened to your face?”

“Oh, uh, I jumped out of a bus,” Mickey says, rather nonchalantly. Liam raises his eyebrows. “Thought someone was chasing me.”

“You’re kind of paranoid,” Liam points out and Mickey grins.

“Yeah well, let me know what you’re like when you’ve got a cartel after you.”

“Like a drug cartel?” Liam’s heard about those from Frank.

“Yeah kid, like a drug cartel.”

One of Carl’s friends clears his throat, clearly waiting to use the bathroom. Liam walks away, listening as Mickey says something rude to the guy about waiting his turn. He walks into Ian’s room.

“Mickey’s here,” he says. Ian looks up at him from where he’s lying on the bed.

“I know.”

“He says a cartel is looking for him.”

“I know,” Ian repeats, sighing. “He’s paranoid.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Did he tell you to fuck off?” Ian asks tiredly.

“No.”

“Threaten to kick your ass?”

“No.”

Ian frowns at him, sitting up a bit.

“Huh. Guess he likes you.”

It turns out Mickey does like Liam.

At least, more than he likes most other people.

Liam doesn’t mind having him around. He’s loud and swears a lot but he’s also pretty funny. He doesn’t take Lip or Debbie’s crap the way most people do. He teaches Liam how to throw a punch when Liam complains about a bully. Liam is never going to punch anyone, but it’s still nice to know.

Mostly, he just makes Ian really happy.

They fight all the time, like all the time. But their fights are different from Lip and Tami’s or Fiona and her boyfriends. They’re never that serious. They never last for more than a day.

And they always have sex afterward.

Liam knows this because Liams hears it. Every night.

“I didn’t know two people could fuck that much,” Carl groans one night as they both lie in bed, trying to ignore the sound of the bed frame smashing into the wall.

“It’s good, right? They love each other?” Liam asks. Because for some reason, he wants Ian and Mickey to make it. He’s only nine but he’s seen enough relationships fall apart. Mickey and Ian are the first couple he’s ever seen that seem good. Like having someone in your corner might be a good thing.

Carl just shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess. Hopefully they move out soon.”

Liam isn’t sure he agrees. Even with all the sex.

A few weeks after he moves into Lip’s new house, Lip and Tami decide to go visit Tami’s family for the weekend so Liam stays with Ian and Mickey.

He feels a little weird at first. They have almost no furniture so he sleeps on a blow up mattress in the living room. Mickey spends most of the first night complaining about everyone else in the building, and the entire West Side for that matter, but Ian doesn’t seem to care. Just rolls his eyes but still grins at Mickey over the dinner table.

Liam and Ian spend most of their Saturday at the pool. Apparently Mickey’s not allowed there anymore. Something about a chair.

Liam looks over at Mickey while Ian is out to get groceries for dinner. They’re both sitting upright on the blow-up mattress watching some basketball game neither of them cares about.

“I like your apartment,” Liam says. Mickey rolls his eyes.

“Of course you do. You’re like Ian.”

“There are a lot of white people here though.”

Mickey nods in fervent agreement.

“I wish I could have lived with you guys instead.”

It’s not entirely true, Liam knows Tami and Lip are closer to his school and his friends. Plus he gets his own room there. But Lip and Tami fight a lot and are so busy with the new baby coming, Liam spends most of his time alone or babysitting Freddie.

At least Ian and Mickey hang out with him.

Mickey is staring at him though, eyes wide.

“What?” Liam asks, a bit defensively.

“You...you’d want to live with us?” Mickey asks, his voice higher than Liam’s ever heard it.

“Sure,” Liam says with a shrug. “Your apartment is cool. Ian is a better cook than Lip or Tami. You wouldn’t stare over my shoulder while I do my math homework.”

The last one is mostly a joke, Liam doesn’t know if Mickey can do math, but Mickey still looks like someone smacked him over the head.

“Are you okay? You look kinda weird.”

Mickey clears his throat, turning back to the TV.

“Yeah kid, I’m good. Just uh figured we’d be your last choice to live with is all.”

That doesn’t make any sense to Liam. No one wants to live with Debbie. Carl can barely bathe himself.

“Why?” he asks Mickey. Mickey shrugs.

“I don’t know. You’re smart and shit. Ian and I didn’t even graduate high school.”

“Why would that matter?” Liam asks, trying to follow his logic.

“I don’t fucking know. I just figured it mattered. Plus we’re both kinda fucking crazy, you know?”

“I grew up with Frank,” Liam counters. “You guys are fine.”

“Right well uh, Lip’s better at the parenting stuff anyway. It’s good for you.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, just sulks a little. Mickey grins at him.

“You look just like Ian when I tell him I’m not gonna su-I mean when I don’t do what he says. That fucking chin.”

“Whatever,” Liam says. He pretends to watch more basketball.

“You can come over whenever you want, you know? I think we’ve got a spare key somewhere. Just uh...text first. Not always PG-13 in here.”

Liam wrinkles his nose. But he grins too.

“Really?”

“Sure. You’re not so bad. Debbie’s way worse.”

Liam grins wider.

“Cool.”

#my writing #gallavich drabble #gallavich fic #will i go work on my WIP now?#we may never know #gallavich #mickey and liam

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bush-viper-cutie · 3 years

Text

New Student, New Friend

Pairing: Young Snape x french!reader

Word Count: 2,751

Request: #1 “Hi! Can I request a young!Snape x french!reader where the reader's transferred from beauxbatons and isn't fluent in english/has a thick accent? Love your work!!”

#2 “Hi hi! Love your work! Can I request Young Snape x French reader? Sorry if I dont speak well, english is not my first language <3”

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello everyone again! :D I combined both requests because they are pretty similar so enjoy!

Posted: 9/10/21

Masterlist

---

~*~*~ = time skip

(Y/n) = first name

(L/n) = last name

~*~*~

~*~*~ = POV change

---

~*~*~*~*~ *~

There was a strange static in the air this morning, one Severus couldn't quite place. He brushed his long hair back behind his ear and listened in to the hushed whispers of passing classmates.

"...Beauxbaton, can you believe it?"

"Nice to not know someone for a change - "

Beauxbaton? Severus gathered they were talking about a new teacher perhaps? Although it wasn't that odd to get new professors in the middle of the school year. Just last year the Dark Arts professor was promptly replaced when he went mad after a spell backfired on him; In fact, every year there was a new one.

It was strange that the new teacher should be a transfer from another school such as Beauxbaton... Maybe they were fired and no one else wanted them, must be down on their luck. And if that is the case, how very fitting for Hogwarts, home of inadequacy.

Severus, still deep in his bitter thoughts, almost tripped over the shoe that had extended out in front of him. He caught himself and whirled around angrily. "Watch it!" he growled, straightening.

James Potter smirked. "Oh, Snivellus. Didn't see you there.” His Gryffindor friends snickered behind him, bolstering his ego. "I'd get along to class if I were you. Wouldn't want to be late on your first day back."

Severus grit his teeth and did everything he could to not growl his displeasure of being in so close proximity to the pinnacle of mediocrity that was Potter. It had been a week after winter holidays had ended but after another nearly fatal encounter with Black, he’d been forced to stay in the Hospital Wing un-zippering his mouth and a couple of fingers before being allowed back.

The memory of the experience made his knees weak, making keeping his riled demeanor that much harder. He was lucky he'd had the foresight to cover his nose before Black unleashed his hex. It wasn’t a quick run from the lake to the nurse, and he certainly wouldn't have made it with his nostrils zippered together as well.

"Mind your own business, Potter." Severus spat out his name like rotten apples, furrowing his brows in an attempt to seem more threatening however he could not help but notice the hallways getting emptier by the second. He knew better than to get caught alone with Potter.

He laughed and turned to catch up with his friends. Severus watched him go, only relaxing his shoulders after Potter had rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. The hall was empty.

He turned and continued down the corridor when his hearing perked at the scuff of loud footsteps. He whirled around, hand plunging into his robes, but it was too late.

"Levipeds!"

Severus' head snapped back as his feet whipped out from under him. He hung limp in the air, watching his wand roll away on the stone floor. His hair nearly touched the dirty ground.

James laughed. "Welcome back, Snivellus!"

He closed his eyes as his boiling blood rushed to his head. He was hanging upside down in the air, alone in the empty corridor. He couldn't scream for help, he'd just get yelled at for disturbing lessons, and he couldn't reach his wand - as long as his limbs might be, his wand might as well have rolled down into the dungeons. He'd have to hang there until classes were over or one of the portraits decided to help him out for once.

"Eh... Excuse moi?" A quiet voice wrapped in a thick French accent broke the silence.

His eyes flew open and stared straight into the face of a beautiful but completely unfamiliar student. She bent down low to meet his eyes. She must be the mystery person from Beauxbaton, the new student as it turned out.

This was worse, so much worse than being caught by anyone else in the school - except for a very select few. Severus looked around in search of anything that might make this all less embarrassing.

"You need help, no?" Her voice was more confident this time, laced with a hint of friendly amusement.

"Uhh..." He met her eyes and hoped this new student would excuse his red face to be due to all his blood rushing down.

She straightened and pointed behind him. "This is your wand? I'll give to you?" His wand was in his hand with one quick flick of her own.

His eyebrows automatically shot up at her use of nonverbal spells. "Thanks," he tried swallowing but ended up coughing. He covered his mouth and performed the counter-hex, dropping to the floor with a grunt.

She rushed forward, looping her arm through his and helping him up to his feet. She laughed and dusted the dirt off his back while he stood paralyzed.

"Better, no?" she smiled, facing him a foot from his stiff figure. "I'm new seventh-year transfer... And you?"

For a moment his mouth opened but no words flew out, and then all at once words poured out as fast as if under a curse. "I'm - oh - yes you're from Beauxbaton, right? Yeah - er - yes, seventh-year as well."

Her hands flew up and she waved them in front of herself with a laugh. "Slow please!" she laughed again. "One more time?"

Severus gave an awkward laugh that matched hers and nodded. "I'm also a seventh-year."

"Oh!" she held out a paper and pointed down to the class he was late for. "I am so lost! You help me now? Oui?"

She smiled up at him and his heart nearly leaped out of his mouth. He nodded quickly, "Yes - er - oui, I'll help you... Actually, that's my class too..."

"Oh!" Her smile widened, "I need partner for the class! You have one?"

For once Severus thanked his unlucky past self. His time in the hospital wing all week meant everyone would be already partnered up. "No, I don't..." his face flushed red again and he cleared his throat, looking away. "We could be partners?"

"Bon! Lead the way, partner," she motioned for him to lead, keeping a very close pace next to him as they walked. "I am lucky to find you, did not know anyone yet. You are only third person met!"

He gave her a small smile as they walked together, but he knew it wouldn't take long for her to find out his status at the school. Being a new student, he was sure she’d make all the friends she could ever want by the end of the day. Then she'd reconsider her luck after everyone tells her all about her lab partner, 'Snivellus'.

~*~*~

They made it to class late. The professor looked up and frowned, ready to tell them off when Severus' new ‘friend’ spoke up.

"Excuse us, Professor, I am new and got lost."

The professor sighed and waved his hand, giving her a pass. "And I see you're back Mr. Snape. Get to your seats, you'll both be working together - get moving."

The two back seats were empty and Severus was glad to be away from the front for once. His new partner set down her things, and as she bent to pick up her books Severus caught a glimpse of Sirius Black glaring at him from the front, a seat behind where Severus had been sitting the last term. Black had anticipated his return and was obviously annoyed with the change in seating.

"What may I call you, Mr. Snape?" The new student whispered, giving him her full attention despite the lesson continuing.

"S-Severus." He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He'd die of embarrassment if they started teasing him in front of her for daring to open his mouth. "And you?"

She smiled. "Severus Snape? That's a beautiful name." She looked back up to make sure their conversation was still private and turned back. She reached up and gripped his tie, pulling him towards her. She leaned and held a hand to his ear, moving her lips inches from his ear. "(Y/n) (L/n)."

Severus’ heart beat faster than it ever had before. The immense drumming in his ears almost made it impossible to hear her whispers. When she released him, he turned to look at her, feeling his face heat up either from proximity or from her warm breath flowing over his face. "(Y/n)... Good to know." He swallowed and realized he had not moved since she had pulled him towards her. He would have felt like an idiot if she wasn’t looking at him so playfully.

"You gonna kiss her, Snivellus?"

Severus pulled back quickly and clenched his jaw at Black.

The professor smacked Sirius' head with a roll of parchment. "Mr. Black, disturb my class again and I'll assign you an essay for every night this week." Severus smirked. "And you, Mr. Snape," the Professor smacked the board, creating a puff of chalk, "- will hand me your notes tomorrow before class - legible notes, might I add."

Severus nodded as the class snickered and turned away from (Y/n). The rest of the lesson went by agonizingly slow. Severus counted the seconds until he could run away to the library, away from taunting eyes. He hated himself for turning so red, but he hated Black even more for making him the fool.

~*~*~

You could tell the boy, 'Mr. Black', had embarrassed Severus greatly. He was hunched over his parchment, focused completely on the professor's words, and never once looking back up at you.

You read the words on the board but soon your eyes ventured down to look at the tall lanky boy currently trying to visibly shrink in his seat. The moment shared between you both still played on your mind. He had beautiful long lashes and deep dark eyes to match. It had been fun to see him so flustered over you, but the guilt of what you'd caused sat heavily on your chest. That boy had noted Severus had been in the perfect position to kiss her, which... did she kind of wish he had?... Just to see - for just a curious taste.

You didn't know what specifically was so alluring about Severus, but you could imagine yourself wrapped in his arms, pulling on his long hair, biting his lips, and hearing that deep voice of his purring for more. Something about him - or maybe everything about him - made you wonder how gentle those hands of his could be.

The bells rang in the distance, marking the end of the lesson. You packed your things and sat waiting for Severus to do the same. He was slow at first and then after a quick flick of his eyes up to you hurried along.

You stood at the same time and motioned for the door, scrambling to translate your thoughts into English. "Lunch now? We can sit together?"

People filed out of the class, which Severus watched closely before turning back to her and answering. "Look, this isn't the only time… I'm not someone to hang out with unless you like hexes and spells to be thrown in your direction."

You could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed, and his down-turned eyes filled with tears that wouldn't fall. Before you could bring yourself to respond, he sighed shakily, giving you pause.

"It's not your fault... I'll show you down and then I suggest you forget about being friends." He pulled open the door and held it open for you without meeting your eyes.

What could you say to him? You stepped out into the corridor, contemplating how to phrase what you were thinking when laughter pulled your focus.

"I see you've met our Snivellus." The stupid boy, Black, came forward talking to you but keeping his attention on Severus. He had long curly hair nearly as long as Severus' and was taller, with proud shoulders held in a loose demeanor that still made him seem important in some way. His eyes shifted to you, "Hope he didn't drip any snot on you while he tried for a kiss."

You scoffed, “You do not understand what you saw. Please leave us alone.”

“Love, maybe you’re not understanding me. For your own safety I insist YOU leave this sniffling slime alone.” Black took a step closer.

Severus pulled out his wand but held it low, at the ready in an instant. "I’m done with your games. Unlike you, you nitwitted tower troll, I have places to be." He finally glanced your way, "Excuse me," and made to leave.

Black blocked his way, laughing at the now pointed wand in Severus’ hand. "Go ahead, I’ll be glad if you finally get expelled for using wands in the corridors. Mine's not even on me."

You eyed the smirk on his face and the tiny shift of his hand towards his trousers pocket. Was that a lie then? Whatever the case, you had enough of this game too. "My friend, Severus, is showing me to lunch. We are going now." You stepped between Severus and Black, giving the taller boy an annoyed look.

"I’m telling you, be careful," Black chuckled. "He might try to kiss you again if you’re too nice."

You paused and stepped back, looking up at Severus, whose eyes were fixed on Black, staring daggers into him. You bit your lip and chuckled the same way Black had, finding a different kind of amusement than him in this situation. "I hope he will."

Severus' head snapped to you, his cheeks slowly going a light shade of pink all over.

Black made a disgusted sound and a show of his fake nausea. “Darling, I don’t think I understood you correctly. Check your dictionary and if that’s not the problem maybe your eyes.”

This boy was really getting on your nerves now. If you’d been back at Beauxbaton you’d’ve already hexed him into a soggy pile of starter yeast, baked him into the perfect Pain au Levain, and chucked him out the tallest tower window. “Move it,” you made sure your French accent coated the word heavily.

Severus’ hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you back. He kept his wand and eyes trained on Black but spoke to you. “Go down to lunch. I’ll stay here to have the chat Black so desperately wants to have with me.” He looked up again, “Let her leave.”

Black smiled, “That’s fine. Been meaning to ask how your winter holiday was after I last saw you.”

You turned to Severus, ready to protest when the door to the classroom opened, cutting Black off. You all stood very still and awkward, hoping to hide the atmospheric hostility that had been created.

The Professor locked the door with a flick of his wand and looked at everyone with concern. "Off to lunch, no need wandering the corridors. Now." He ushered everyone down the stairs, walking close behind in equal silence.

You reached the floor second to last, after Black and then Severus, and pulled on Severus' arm the second your Professor had turned towards the staff room. You kept your hand on him to make sure he didn’t decide to leave before you could talk to him. Before Black could step towards you to continue the ‘conversation’, other Gryffindor students pulled him towards a small crowd gathering across the floor. Whatever it was seemed to be of higher interest and he left with only single backwards glance.

You both watched him go dissolve into the rowdy group and suddenly the air around you shifted. Severus turned instantly, searching your eyes with an intensity you could almost feel. You blushed and slid your hand down his sleeve and lingered on his bare hand. Neither of you said a word but the electricity connecting your eyes and the comfortable silence that enveloped you both spoke volumes. "We could eat together, no?"

His eyes settled on your hand still on his until you let go. "Oui," he whispered with a smile pulling at his lips. “Lunch then.”

As you both walked on, he slowly crept closer with every step, making your shoulders brush against his arm. His pinky tickled the skin on your wrist, making you cough to hide a giggle as you entered the Great Hall. Your eyes flickered up at his and you smiled, seeing a gentle blush and an even gentler smile on his face.

~*~*~*~*~ *~

Masterlist

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General taglist:

@setsuna-meiou31

@severuslovebot

@bionic-otp

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