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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

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"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 1?*

So this is interesting:

So "Not My Yacht" was my very first fic. Like, I'm talking VERY VERY first.

So when I started asking around about ideas for a new series, a few of my lovelies went through my one shots and this story and "Doodling" got some good votes.

So, I decided to include the one shot and just added to it for a POTENTIAL new series. We'll see how this chapter goes over.

Also I'll be including Rita Calhoun in this for the FIRST time ever, so I may need assistance from @storiesofsvu to get her voice right. I did my best here. I'll be honest I've never really watched her, just that one where that guy blackmailed her or something.

Also Also, if it wasn't obvious enough this is obviously the beginning of the SVU episode "Her Negations".

I don't want to give anything away because I haven't even really thought that far, but I'm 95% sure this is going to turn in a William Lewis situation fic. So...pretty dark. I'm just warning you NOW.

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

And yes, the results are in. There is a part 2!

You breathed in the salty air of the sea of the sunny South Hampton shore; It was a beautiful day for a yacht party.

You walked along the pier as you got closer to your boss’s boat: The Crime Wave. Her husband’s idea of a funny name she claimed as she had invited people from the office to this soiree. You were lucky to even get an invite, just being the assistant to the owner of the law firm. “Who else is going to help me dodge boring conversations with men who just wanted a "free ride” on the bosses boat?“ She had teased you; or at least you hoped she was kidding.

You really wanted to just relax and mingle among the elite lawyers of NYC, seeing as you wanted to be one of them someday.

You saw your boss, Rita Calhoun waving you down as you reached the dock space.

"Ah! There you are, for a minute I thought I’d have to mix my own drinks!” She laughed with a wink. You laugh nervously, unable to discern if she was kidding.

“Calm down sweetie, I’m a big girl. Besides, I like to make them myself, strong,” she laughed again, patting your shoulder. Crap had your face looked that panicked? Keep it cool!

“Go ahead, enjoy yourself. I’ll be here, making sure none of those damn punks tries to sneak on here for free booze,” she scoffed, nodding to a group of highly dressed teens playing chicken on the shoreline.

You nodded with a half laugh, stepping onto the yacht. It was a decent size, a second level deck and a very spacious main level. Not a lot of people had arrived yet, so you decided to pick a spot on the yachts back bench area before all the seating was taken. You began removing your over clothes revealing your swimming wear when you hear Rita greet someone else.

“Ah, Barba. You know we have flare guns on board,”

You turn to see the ADA of New York, Rafael Barba. He’s dressed in a windbreaker and what could be either a dark red or salmon polo. You realize Mrs. Calhoun is referring to the almost neon yellow color of the windbreaker, and you can’t help but giggle. It must have been way too loud because they both turn to you which caused you to immediately shut up and go back to undressing and laying out your towel, but ever so slightly still honed in on the conversation.

“You can never be too careful Rita, who knows how many enemies I’ve made in this town; someone might throw me over,” he smirked.

“And anyone here could make it look like a very convincing accident….even my aspiring protege over there,” Rita nods over to you, knowing full well what you were doing.

Barba turned and looked at you, your body frozen in mid towel thrust. You didn’t know whether to throw it over yourself or just run off the boat right there.

“I know it’s an awful jacket dear, you don’t have to keep staring at him.” She called over to you. God why did she have to be so….her.

“Jesus Rita give the girl a break, or did you invite her just to torture her on unbillable hours?” Barba scoffed with a half smile, walking over to you.

“Is it really worth the minimum wage to put up with her?” He asked.

“Mmm…it’s more for the experience, honestly.” You replied surprisingly smoothly.

“Oh….well I mean I could give you the experience without–” He started but was interrupted by your boss’s loud exclaiming.

“Yeah I’ll BET you’d give her experience Barba! Stop hitting on my intern and mingle with the adults.”

If you could dig a hole straight through the boat into the ocean you would do it right then and there.

“…..Without THAT.” He rolled his eyes, lightly flipping her the bird behind his back. You see her respond with a laugh then turns her attention back to the guests boarding.

“She’s probably been drinking since she got on the boat, yeah?” He asked you.

“I…I don’t know I just got here….” You managed to squeak out as your towel strayed from your hands. Barba grabbed it and helped you reposition it on the bench.

“Kinda windy for a yacht party, but Rita will take any chance to celebrate anything remotely resembling a boost to her ego. Am I right?” He chuckled, before sitting down on your towel.

“Just to keep it from blowing away, do you mind?” He asked, gesturing for you to join him. You nodded a boisterous “NO”, plopping next to him on the bench.

“I’m Rafael Barba,” he extended his hand to you, which you took and shook gently, praying to God he didn’t notice you were literally shaking. You had probably had the biggest crush on him since you started working with Mrs. Calhoun, he was constantly in her office challenging her with warrants and favors.

“Oh yeah I know,” you blurted out, mentally facepalming immediately.

“I see….” He raised an eyebrow. “And you are….?”

You were about to answer when his phone went off. He answered it putting one finger up and mouthing the words “one second.”

“Barba. Yeah….what? Seriously, Olivia? On a Sunday?!” He groaned into his phone with an exaggerated eye roll. He raised his hand and ran it over his face begrudgingly as he talked.

“Yeah….alright, fine. Yeah I’ll be there, give me an hour. I’m in the Hamptons. Because it’s my day off, Liv! Do you think I lock myself in my office over the weekends like a vampire in a coffin? Yeah…I’m sorry, I just…” He glanced at you.

“I was enjoying my Sunday.” He gave you a small sad smile.

“Yeah. Ok. See you soon.” He hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go back to the city. Don’t let Rita push you around too much, okay?” He chuckled, rubbing the top of your head like a puppy. You felt your face scrunch up in annoyance, seriously? He thought of you as a kid?!

He obviously noticed, and quickly held out his hand again very sternly.

“Sorry, future counselor.” He said in an overly serious tone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Again. Like an idiot.

Relieved he had fixed his faux paux, he gave you one last beautiful Barba grin as he jogged over to Rita and told her something before nodding to you once again, then walked off the boat and disappearing down the pier.

Your boss sauntered over to you, a shit eating grin across her face.

“Well Cinderella, you sure kept that cool.” She gestured for your phone beside you.

“Be sure to tell him your name this time,” she winked, handing it back to you. You glanced down at it as she walked away; she had added a number to your contacts.

“BHole Barba.” You laughed out loud. Nice. Maybe she wasn’t such a horrible boss after all….

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

By Monday you still hadn’t had the balls to text Rafael Barba. You had just stared at the number in your phone, imagining all the possibilities contacting him would lead to. You may have gotten so far as planning your summer wedding in the Hamptons, but nobody needed to know that.

But you had chickened out and left it alone, and now you were sitting at your desk typing up a memo for Rita when you saw him come waltzing through the door.

“Ah, Cinderella!” He smiled at you.

“Hey…” Your mind went blank, you couldn’t think of words. Wait, had he already given you a nickname?

“Cinderella?” You blinked in confusion.

“Well I never caught your name-- But I guess I shouldn’t even push it, you’ve clearly moved on and I must seem like a creep,” His train of thought proceeded out loud as he realized you hadn’t taken his number and here he was still flirting with you. Rita had given it to you, he had seen her type it in your phone. Obviously you weren’t interested, why was he pushing this?

“What? NO!” You said a little louder than you intended, actually a lot louder than you intended. You slapped your hand over your mouth after your little outburst, but to you relief he was still smiling.

“Oh? Well I suppose that’s good…” He was obviously fishing for your excuse as to why you had waited until he popped back in your face to talk to him.

“No, I um--” You racked your brain for an excuse that wasn’t “I was busy planning our lives together”.

“I….couldn’t think of something interesting to say,” You finally admitted with a pitiful sigh. You were not a good liar, and under pressure, forget about it.

Again, he still smiled-- but this time he laughed along with it.

“I mean, ‘Hello’ is always an option,” He chuckled. “Or...your name?”

“Oh!” Idiot. You hadn’t even given him your name, how was he supposed to fall madly in love with you without a name?

“Y/N,” You stuck your hand out awkwardly, Was this a ‘shake hands’ moment? Hadn’t you already met before? You stared at your hand as you moved it slightly back and forth, arguing with yourself whether or not this was necessary. Luckily, Rafael settled the argument by taking your hand and shaking it firmly.

His hands were so soft, his long fingers enveloped yours in them. You lost yourself in the moment, and before you knew it he was making an uncomfortable cough, snapping you back to reality. You dropped his hand and snapped yours back into your body like a zip cord, your face in a horrified stare.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, that was so weird. I’m weird. I’m--”

“Well I don’t know what you were so worried about Cinderella, you’re clearly a chatterbox,” He gave you a tongued smile, referring to the word vomit you just couldn’t help spill all over him.

“Oh yeah, I’m a total word machine,” You laughed nervously. A word machine? What the fuck was that?

“...Word machine. Right,” He nodded in amusement. “Well word machine, would you mind shooting some words to my phone, or do you just enjoy this face to face thing?”

“With that face? Definitely the latter. But you can have my number anyway,” You typed a quick message and sent it to his number. Damn that was smooth! How did you do that?

Rafael made an impressed face with your line, but when he opened his phone his brows furrowed.

“Hit?” He gave you a curious look as he read the text out loud.

“Fuck it was supposed to be ‘hi’-- stupid autocorrect,” You muttered angrily. Yeah, that was more like you.

“Oh yes, the dreaded autocorrect,” He nodded while saving your number. “Turning fucks into ducks since 2011,”

“Oh I didn’t have a phone in 7th grade but I’ll take your word for it,” You laughed, but stopped when his face twisted into a mix of horror and discomfort when he realized how young you actually were.

Dammit. Why...why would you do this?

“....Right, is Rita in?” He quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed into Rita’s office before you could answer.

“...Idiot!” You yelled at yourself as your hands went over your face and your face planted into your desk.

Well, that was nice while it lasted. All 2.5 seconds of it.

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

“Well Barba, about time,” Rita smirked as Rafael abruptly burst into her office trying to get away from you. “Done flirting with the intern are we?”

“Shut up,” He rolled his eyes, though his face was a deep shade of red.

“Oh no, what happened? Did your dentures fall out in front of her?” She smirked.

“I’m younger than you!!” He scoffed.

“Yeah but I’m not the one trying to boff a 25 year old,” She smirked harder, making Rafael angrier.

“Can I just get the warrant I came here for, Rita?” He huffed.

“Oooh, struck a nerve there, did I?” Rita chuckled as she grabbed some papers from her desk and started to hand them to him. “Barba, for the record I’m really not judging you. If I were 20 years younger, I’d hit it too,”

“Excuse me?”

“I had a lot of ‘cats’ in college,” She winked.

“Wow,” Rafael held up his hands. “Rita, we really don’t need to be that personal.”

“Fine, but all I’m saying is if you like the girl, don’t let a stupid thing like age deter you. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s actually very competent and organized. I would almost prefer her not to graduate, unless she'd come work for me. She’s going to be a hell of a lawyer,” She gestured outside to your desk.

Rafael looked at the ground as he mulled over what she was saying, a small smile crawled across his lips as she complimented your potential.

“I’ll take that under advisement, Mrs. Calhoun,” He nodded as he walked towards the door with the papers in his hand, a huge smile across his face now.

He walked out to find you cursing at yourself and whimpering in embarrassment at your desk. When you heard the door shut you snapped to attention and stared at him, shocked he hadn't sprinted out of the office like Usain Bolt. Even more shocking was that Cheshire cat grin now upon his face.

“I-I’m sorry, I totally meant I was--” You tried doing math trying to make yourself reasonably older.

“It’s fine,” He chuckled as he put a hand over your counting fingers. You blushed at the touch of his skin on yours again, but quickly shoved your hands under the desk nervously as you tried not to look him square in the eye. His eyes were so gorgeous you were positive staring straight into them would actually get you pregnant.

“So does Rita ever unchain you from this desk?” He smirked as he was now very aware and very amused at how nervous he made you. He may be old, but clearly he’s still got it.

“Oh yeah, if I ask very nicely she let’s me--” You tried to think of something witty, but it wasn’t coming with him staring at you with those eyes. “....Yes,” You wanted to put your hands over your face but you didn’t want it to be a ‘thing’.

“Well, maybe if you’re an extra good girl she’ll let you off your leash early tonight,” He winked.

“....Am I a dog or a toddler in that situation?” You were genuinely asking, but Rafael clearly realized how insulting that must have seemed.

“Oh no no no, I just, shit,” He tried to backtrack but if he was being totally honest, you made him nervous. Maybe he didn’t have ‘it’ as much as he thought.

You noticed he was the one blushing now, oh my god were you making him nervous? QUICK, BE SMOOTH. BE SMOOTHER THAN YOU’VE EVER BEEN IN YOUR LIFE.

“Are you asking me out, counselor?” You did your best “sultry “voice with a bat of your eyes. Were you batting them too much? What was too much? Oh god you’ve done it for too long now. STOP BATTING.

“...I don’t know, guess you’ll have to wait for me to text you, future counselor,” He was impressed by the line, and decided to bow out before either of you made idiots of yourselves again. He gave you a wink and sauntered out of the office.

Great. Now he’ll probably make you wait two days for a--

*BEEP*

Your phone went off in your desk. You pulled it out to see a text message:

BHOLE BARBA: Dinner? Tonight?

You really needed to change his contact name. But that wasn’t the point right now. He just asked you out. Rafael Barba just asked you out. You stared at in your hands, unsure of what to do. Then you realized you couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t just sit there and imagine things, this required an immediate response.

You nervously typed a reply and hit SEND:

Sire ;)

“DAMMIT!!!” You cursed your autocorrect. You instantly sent another text.

Sure***

Before you could lecture yourself again, your phone beeped again:

BHOLE BARBA: Play

Play? What did that--

BHOLE: Okay** ;)

You typed the word ‘okay’ into your text reply bubble, ‘play’ came up in the autocorrect word list.

He was joking with you. He was flirting with you. RAFAEL BARBA WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU.

This work day could not end fast enough.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanficton #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #not my yacht #raul esparza

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oddsnendsfanfics · 3 years

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It’s the Best Time of The Year

Genre: Fan Fiction (Night Hunter) Pairing: Lt Walter Marshall /Reader Warnings: Pure Fluff! Get your sweet tooth ready! Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: A little fluffy, okay a lot of fluffy, Christmas-ish Walter.

Henry Cavill Master List

From outside the house, Walter could hear Holly Jolly Christmas blaring throughout, unlocking the door and trudging inside he kicked the snow off his boots before leaving them on the mat beside the front door. Typically, this would lead to him lecturing you about being aware of your surroundings. Anybody could break in and...he stopped seeing you and his daughter attempting to waltz through the kitchen.

Racks of cookies were littering the counter tops, various sized boxes took up what cookies didn't. Squares, pies, and handmade chocolates took up even more space on the table, spilling into the dining room. Someone had been busy. Blissfully unaware of his presence, you and Faye continued to laugh and dance. Aprons and cheeks covered in flour. Faye's dark hair had splatters of red icing here and there.

Foregoing the lecture, Walter gave in – this once. Watching for a few more seconds before clearing his throat to alert you of his presence.

“Walt!” You exclaim letting go of Faye, the two of you giggling like crazy, “You're home early.” You rush to give him a quick peck.

“Harper forced me out.” His laugh is soft and deep. Eyeing you and his daughter, he raises his brow. “Did I interrupt, ladies?”

“Not at all. We were working on dinner, while finishing up some baking.” You answer happily, smiling wide. The music continues to play, at a lower level, thanks to Faye.

“Hey dad.” The teenager hugs her father tightly. Kissing the top of her head, Walter takes a deep breath resting his chin there for a moment. “So, off early. Did Hell freeze over?”

“Language.” Walter mumbles, nudging her. “And no. I am home early, because I have decided to take a few days off. Harper decided I should start early. Come home and enjoy the chaos.”

“Excuse me?” Faye is wide eyed. “Did I hear that right? You, my father, Walter Marshall, are taking a few days off? Dad, are you dying?”

“No,” Chuckling Walter shakes his head. Sliding his arm around you, he pulls you closer. “I had some time to use and decided to spend Christmas home. Is that a big deal?”

Giggling, you wink at Faye indicating that there is more to this story than her father is telling her. Tapping her foot on the tiled floor, Faye wrinkles her nose. She's not buying it. No where in her memory, did she recall her father taking time off.

“Uh huh. Right, okay.” Rolling her eyes she scoffs.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Walter glances at you.

“Because you never take time off. Ever.” You answer for Faye.

When Walter had told you that he wanted to take Christmas off, it was startling. He rarely took time off and always worked the holidays. Faye would stay with her mother, while Walter practically lived in his office. “Crime doesn't take Christmas off.” He would fuss. In the four years that you had known Walter, two that you were together, he hardly took time off for anything. Upon further discovery, it seemed nobody could remember the last time the Detective took more than a day off. A whole week off, including Christmas, this really was some sort of Christmas Miracle.

“Which is why I have decided to take the time. Is it a crime that I want Christmas with my family?”

“No.” Faye shrugged. Stirring the sauce in the pot, Faye sighed. She was not buying whatever her father was selling.

“Why don't you run up, get changed, and we will have dinner nearly ready by then.” You gently pat Walter's chest, giving him another quick kiss. “Go, we can marvel at the impossible when you come back down.” Not missing the chance to tease him.

Shaking his head and muttering about what terrible influences you and Faye were on one another, Walter returned the kiss, before turning on his heel and heading to change out of his office attire. Downstairs you and Faye had reverted back to your antics, tossing a piece of lettuce at her you laughed when she smacked you with the salad spoon. Walter would pretend to ignore it, but you knew that he enjoyed the chaos. He especially loved that you and Faye got on so well.

He would tell you every time she came over, how much he loved that she had decided to love you as much as he did. It was pretty hard not to love her back. When you had started dating Walter, you knew he had a daughter, and an ex-wife. Both, who at times, gave him grief. You had quickly worked out that it wasn't in a malicious intent, they simply worried about him. Especially Faye.

“My god that smells fantastic,” Walter commented walking through the house to rejoin his family.

“Faye made it,” You beamed with pride, arms wrapping around Walter's torso. You loved how warm he always was. Even more so since the winter had once again came. Snuggling into his side, you felt him relax while you watched Faye finish dinner.

“And who made all these?” He gestured to the baking.

“It was a joint effort.” Looking over her shoulder from the stove, Faye answered with a smile. “We're taking some down to the station tomorrow.”

“They will love that,” Walter smiled softly.

“Since you're off for vacation, we could use the extra pair of hands.” Faye winked, sticking out her tongue. “Or if we take you to work, will you end up staying, because crime doesn't take Christmas off.” She did her best impression of her father. You couldn't help but snort a little.

“Hush, you.” Walter bumped you with his hip. “I can go to work and not work.”

“Oh really?” Faye challenged. “Why did you all of a sudden decide to take time off, anyway?”

“Well,” Walter cleared his throat, leaning over you to reach for a snowflake shaped cookie, “I wanted to take some time to celebrate.”

“Should we tell her?” You ask watching Faye's expression. Confusion growing.

“Think she can handle it?” Walter teased.

“Yes!” Faye urged, bouncing on her feet. “Yes, tell me!”

The suspense was going to kill her. There were a million things in her mind. Whatever her imagination was telling her, you could only hope this was going to be as good. Faye was a good kid, you had worked hard all afternoon, worrying that you would let the cat out of the bag. Walter would have been fine with you sharing the surprise, but you wanted him to be there, too.

“Okay, but I want you to know that this changes nothing. I am still going to love you and...”

“Oh my GOD!” Shouting and squealing, Faye waved her hands excitedly. “You're pregnant!”

Wide eyed Walter nearly choked on the second cookie he had swiped. Laughing, you can feel his heart racing like a damn cheetah. Her face was priceless, but it was time to break her poor little heart.

“Uh, no.” You pout and shrug. “No brothers or sisters, yet.”

“Okay, so then what...”

“We're getting married.” Walter announced, unceremoniously. His eyes bright and his smile infectious.

“Dad!” Faye exclaimed, her hands wildly waving in excitement. “You were supposed to let me help you. Holy shit, how bad did he screw this up? Where's your ring? He did buy a ring, right? I told him about the...”

“Faye,” Walter's tone was stern.

“He didn't screw it up, at all.” You pat his chest, beaming. “And there is a ring, but it had to be sized. I'll have it back next week, but I have pictures.”

“Oh my god, I NEED to see them!” Shouting happily, Faye forgot about the dinner she was making. “Let me see! I need to see it! Dad! This is amazing!” tears in her eyes she hugged Walter's neck tightly.

Hugging his daughter, tight, Walter felt a wave of relief. He had assumed that Faye would take the news well, but one could never be too sure in these situations. Letting go of his neck, Faye wiped her eyes quick, before attacking you in her next hug.

Excitedly squealing as she loosened her grip, Faye paused. “Who else knows?”

“Us, you. We wanted to tell you first.” Walter spoke, as he took over dinner.

“How long have you...”

“Four days,” You wipe your own tears. “Oh my god, Faye. It was so perfect and so unexpected. Your old man has charm.” You giggle like a teenager. “I was getting ready for work...”

“You asked her while she was getting ready for work? Dad,” Faye rolled her eyes at him.

Walter shrugged it off. Whatever, you'd said “yes” that was good enough for him.

You had been upstairs in your bathroom, getting ready for work, when you'd walked out to Walter in the hall way. Kissing you, he took a step back, revealing the black box in the palm of his hand. No words. No grand gesture. But you knew exactly what he was asking. Tears, blurring your vision you allowed him to open the box and slide the slightly larger than needed ring on your left hand.

“It was so cute, though.” You defend your fiancé – You can't help but mull the word over. It feels so...odd to think of Walter in such terms.

“Dinner,” Walter announced turning off the gas on the stove. Not that it mattered, the two of you were still talking about how he had proposed and the things you loved, verses what Faye would have had him do differently. Whatever. You two would eat when you were good and ready.

“This is so amazing! This is going to be perfect. Can I come dress shopping with you?”

“I would hope my maid of honour wants to come dress shopping.” Catching Walter's eye, you winked.

“Really? I don't know...wow.” Breathing deeply to steady herself, Faye shook with delight. “Really? You want me?”

“Yes, silly!” You exclaim, hugging her again. Oh god it felt so good to tell Faye the news. Your head would have exploded if you'd had to keep this quiet any longer.

Grabbing your hand, Faye linked her fingers with yours, the two of you twirling around laughing and chattering about weddings. Walter was comfortable to lean against the counter watching the two of you dance around like fools. Dinner would keep, he could heat it in the microwave later. Dancing and singing to It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas, you broke away from Faye, dancing over to Walter.

“May I have this dance?” You wink, pulling his arm.

Unfolding his arms, he allowed you to take his hand. Expertly twirling you around, Walter smiled when Faye whistled. Who knew her dad could dance? Moving you back to him, Walter held you against his chest gently swaying to the time of the music. He had spent a few nights this week dancing happily around the kitchen, living room, hell even the bathroom with you. It was silly, but Walter was beginning to enjoy the laid back approach to life.

“Faye,” Walter furrowed his brow, sighing. Pretending to grump as she recorded the two of you.

“What? You two are adorable. Dad, when did you get those moves?”

“I happen to be a fine dancer,” Walter let go of your hand, grasping Faye's free hand and taking her by surprise. Quickly handing off her phone, Faye carefully followed Walter's lead.

Laughing when Walter spun her around, sending her across the room, Faye caught her balance on the edge of the breakfast table. She could never remember her dad having this much fun or laughing this hard. Dancing around, you laugh when Walter quickly dips you pulling you back up and kissing you softly. Faye's mock retching noises going ignored.

“Thank you,” his lips against your, Walter smiles.

“For?”

“For saying yes and agreeing to marry me. For making me take time to enjoy my family.”

“It's nearly Christmas, Walt. A few days off, a party or two, it won't hurt. You work hard, sweetheart. You need to relax.” You lean into his chest, inhaling the scent of amber and sage.

Clearing her throat, Faye stood with a cookie in her hand, nibbling casually. “Uh, I know that you said I wasn't going to have a sibling, but um...could you not make one right now.”

#henry cavill #walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #nomis #night hunter

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bular · 3 years

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Welcome to Live Commentary

I had no one to talk to while watching the movie and I hate being alone with my thoughts so I wrote everything down in my notes app. It's not coherent! Enjoy!

Aw yeah 1.5 seconds of Bular that is all I needed! Might as well stop now I've seen my boy I'm satisfied.

Why is there a nearly 4 minute recap as if I haven't watched the show at least 50 times. I should be the one giving the recap.

The beginning felt a bit forced to me but maybe that's just me? Like they just tried to squeeze too many things into a small timeframe without any buildup, it just didn't really work. Congrats on the engagement! This is my OTP so I'm very happy! But it came out of nowhere.

Nari in Douxies body is so wrong and I love it and hate it at the same time (positive)

Eli is BIG. I knew he was gonna be tall but I was not prepared for that chiseled face. Or the fact that he stepped off the ship without glasses? I wear glasses and I would not choose to step off a spaceship blind.

OkAY who had mpreg on their bingo card?

AAARRRGGHH actually said a full sentence 🥺 there is no heterosexual explanation for this scene and I'm here for it

Arcadia being the center of the universe really does make a lot of sense. I hate how much sense it makes. Despise it.

Strickler in a Christmas sweater is something i didn't know I needed. Jim's jacket too but that's just adorable, Jim's adorable. Oh sweet baby you're about to get fucked over so bad.

Love seeing Barbara actively participating in battle too. Good for her! Power family!!

Where are the kids tho? Is NotEnrique babysitting? Either that or they hired the girl from the Incredibles movie.

Nomura is so talented I love seeing her fighting on the good side. I can't explain it but I love digitigrade legs they're just so pretty?? Aesthetically pleasing??? Fuck yeah, legg! I could watch Nomura run around and be badass all day.

WAIT NO OH SHIT HOW DARE YOU FUCK

STRICKLER DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE NOT YOU TOO THAT'S TOO FUCKING RUDE DON'T DO THIS TO ME

THERE'S NO WAY HE'S DEAD RIGHT WE SAW NO BODY

Barbara does not deserve this I refuse to accept it. He's fine he'll be back they wouldn't kill two Changelings at once. Also Nomura is with Draal now I take no criticism.

So my favorite characters were Bular, Draal, Gunmar and Angor. And before this movie I always half-joked that everyone I love dies, how I still like Strickler and Nomura but apart from them all of my faves were killed in the very order of favoritism. AND NOW LOOK AT THIS. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I LOVE A CHARACTER. MY LOVE IS TOXIC.

OKAY I LOVE GUN RO- WAIT NO I DON'T LOVE HIM FUCK ABORT ABORT

It's great tho omg

I didn't realize it was Gun Robot when I saw it in the trailer this is amazing

Okay but imagine you're chilling in your trollmarket minding your own business when some misfit group of strangers waltzes in, steals your favorite shiny and celebrates your death before running off

"I AM GUN ROBOT" IS THE HORN LMAOOO

Nana better show up at some point to reunite with her boytoy, I'll cancel this entire franchise otherwise

Something bad is going to happen to Toby isn't it. He's getting too much screentime

Jim's hand got DEEP FRIED

ARCHIE NO

We can play Scrabble okay if they don't free them (which they must) I want an after credits scene of them playing scrabble

Douxie and Nari's bond 🥺🥺🥺

Nari pls just say what you fuckin mean the world is ending

Oh god is she going to remember killing Nomura oh nooo

Claire don't make the portal you will die again. Your hair gon be white all over

EVERYONE AVOIDING THE SCHOOL JUST RIGHT THERE LMAO RIP

I love how Darci is just with the school bus. Civilian girlfriend. But also love how the world is ending and Coach is like "fuck that I'm gonna teach these kids"

Does he know his son is pregnant

"Going back to the city where it's safe" buddy have you been to that city

Whatever happens, Nari has the coolest looking titan. Giant four legged gremlin. I'd adopt him.

WAIT SHE CAN FEEL THE PAIN?

Me: oh i love that titan

The titan 5 seconds later:

Did Nari just fucking die what the FUCK

Oh of COURSE the pages are stuck together RIGHT THERE

Seriously tho how do you not notice an entire nougat nummy in a book

Wait so Arcadia has another heartstone? Or OH SO IT'S ALIVE. OKAY GREAT. GUNMAR COULDN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT HUH

Love how the Heartstone has been dormant/dead for months and apparently heard Blinky say it's alive and decided to wake up RIGHT THEN

Finally they're evacuating the city. This is like, the third apocalypse there. About time.

Okay so you can't pull Excalibur from the rock, but you CAN carve out the stone. Couldn't you just carve it off the sword as close as possible and like. Use that? Just swing the whole damn rock around?

God i can NOT get over Steve's pants. I mean I read a spoiler he was gonna be pregnant but I thought it was a prank or shitpost. I did not see this coming and I am never going to be over it. I love how he and Aja just roll with it and nobody else even cares. They've seen weirder stuff. So he's pregnant now. Whatever.

Jim's hand is bandaged and his ribs still hurt. I love that they're actually consistent with his injuries. I mean sucks for him but hell yeah for hero that doesn't always win!

Okayyy here comes the heartstone. Why not!

IS HE IN LABOR

So if you kiss an Akiridion 7 times you will have 3-5 babies in a few hours. How are they not overpopulated?? Also Aja couldn't have WARNED STEVE BEFOREHAND?

Eli is so supportive omfg

So uh where are the babies gonna come out of? I'm not into mpreg how does this usually work

OH STEVE THANKS FOR ASKING MY QUESTION

Oh good thing he happens to have 8 friends still alive. Otherwise this would've never worked. Nomura had to die otherwise there would've been 10 of them.

Why is everyone bowing to Jim? Did they rehearse this?

Stuart if you hadn't taken a bathroom break you would've thrown off the math and doomed the world. That was a poop of fate my man

Ahhh the signature quote. Where did Douxie and the Akiridions learn it? Did they rehearse this too? It's really cliché but I do like it tbh

If Strickler were dead we'd see more Barbara right?

WOOO BLINKY DRIVING

Ah Jim just used she/her for Bellroc! Finally we're learning some pronouns. I've been wondering this whole time.

MY VIRGIN EYES. WHAT IS GOING O N

How are they not dying with all this lava?

She really just yeeted Varvatos

Did Claire just tell AAARRRGGHH to jump off the titan and he did it without question

I want to say I like Stuart and want him to have more screentime, but I won't say it because I don't want him to die

Jim's poor ribs

Toby can drive yoooo

Tobyyy you're scaring meeeee

So did they really need the different stone or was the amulet just waiting for Jim to choose death over giving up

I saw the armor before but it looks VERY COOL

Also I didn't mention this before but I love that they cut Merlin's name from the incantation. Good for them.

Toby you lost your helmet noooo

For real tho I'm terrified for Toby rn. I saw a comment somewhere earlier that just said "Toby no" with no context and I am AFRAID

So do Bellroc's eyes work after all? I thought she was blinded back in Wizards in the past.

DID SHE JUST FUCKING STAB MY BOY

TOBY YOU SHOULD NOT BE THERE GET OUT THE TRUCK

Bellroc maybe screaming "i'm powerless" in front of your enemy isn't the best idea

She sploosh

DID JIM SURVIVE THAT FALL AND ALSO IS THE TACO TRUCK OKAY

How is he lifting Claire like that buddy you have bruised ribs and just got stabbed

ELI HI CAN WE SEE THE KIDS

SEVEN KIDS! AND ELI JR I LOVE IT

This show really loves to give people more than the recommended amount of babies with no warning huh

She immediately knows which one is Eli Jr 🥺 okay listen I'm not the biggest fan of comic relief sideplot surprise babies, but I have to admit they're cute. Cute couple. Throuple. Eli is in on this. He even has a Junior.

I TOLD YOU WHERE'S THE DAMN TACO TRUCK NANA WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU AND NEITHER WILL I

Oh yea he better fuckin be alive I will commit murder

HE BETTER FUCKIN BE ALIVE BITCH

FUCK YOU

THAT'S A WHOLE ASS CHILD HE ISN'T ALLOWED TO DIE IT'S ILLEGAL

JIM IS GONNA LOOK DOWN AT THE GREEN GLOWING BITCH AAARRRGGHH CONVENIENTLY THREW THERE AND SEE HIM ALIVE OR SOMETHING

YEAH USE THE SWORD TO UNDEAD HIM! THAT'S HOW YOU USE SWORDS!

Unbecoming Part 2

So is Jim just gonna Groundhog Day it until everyone is fine? There's only 13 minutes left we're gonna need a bigger movie

Also I screamed so much about everyone's death and now everyone reading this after they already saw the whole thing is gonna shame me for clowning huh

The scene where Blinky is giving his goodbye speech, there are no babies and Steve has a round belly? Did he reabsorb them?? I mean I know Jim is about to un-birth them but he hasn't started yet

JUST HOW FAR BACK IS HE PLANNING TO GO

WAIT HOLD UP EXCUSE ME WHAT

Oh they did NOT just do that. I though he was just gonna go back to like, the start of the movie maybe. Not all the way

Imagine being in your early twenties with as much trauma as this kid has and having to pretend you're 16 again

Somewhere Unkar is complaining because "oh sure NOW it's a good idea"

I know Jim is wondering where Toby is because he was there before. But before, he made an entire meatloaf AND did his homework before leaving the house, so honey maybe wait a minute

For a second I thought Toby wasn't gonna be there and Jim would return to the right time. But there he is!

Alright so they're in school now, did they take the canal and just didn't mention the amulet on screen or did they pass it as if the Unbecoming episode hadn't been that traumatizing? Jim you know what happens when you ignore it

Jim maybe you're being too obvious here lmao

Soooo. Anyway. These whole past years I've rewatched this show over and over and over again are cancelled now?

OKAY AT LEAST WE SAW NANA FOR A SPLIT SECOND THAT'S IRONIC TIMING

So we get the quote again. And Trollhunter Tobias is nice. Cool. Cool AU I mean, but I don't know. I don't knowwww. I've been way too invested in everything to just accept that it never happened?? So uh. Hm. How about this.

Strickler survived because fuck you, and Toby also survived and just has scars now. Maybe a wheelchair but he's fine, also he can use the Warhammer for super speed and make it awesome once he's used to it. Archie and Charlie get freed once they rebuild the bridge (and they were playing scrabble to pass the time). Nomura is still dead because she died on screen and I can't really deny that but she's with Draal so it's okay. Everyone is traumatized but they'll be fine. NotEnrique is still babysitting 500 babies and Steve is about to bring 7 more.

In summary, I reject Groundhog Day ending but everything else was great, as long as it actually happened. It was a good movie. But you can't just cancel years of passion. Having the prospect of a million "canon AUs" sounds great for writing but at the same time nooo you can't do that he didn't have to go back THAT far HHHHH

I liked the movie. It was a great watch and a satisfying end to a franchise, but I gotta say I do not fancy the ending of it so I will from now on be in denial. I honestly feel kind of betrayed that this show was my whole life for so long, I learned every smallest fact, and they basically deleted it from existence. I know what they were going for, I think, but no thank you I will be going with my own opinion. Still gonna rewatch it a few dozen times though ✌🏻

And that concludes my live commentary that was supposed to be a small handful of notes. Feel free to shame me for my opinions. See ya!

#rott spoilers #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #this got a LOT longer than expected #i'd be surprised if anyone actually read the whole thing but oh well #i just. have a LOT of opinions #i started out so optimistic too #mpreg mention #can't believe i have to use that tag on a post about canon

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honeysidesarchived · 3 years

Text

THE LAND OF GODS AND DEVILS, a sequel.

—part ii.

word count: 9.2k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: naughty language, massively canon-divergent, roman gets his own tag because he’s a fucking nutso, canon-typical violence, established relationship that might not be the healthiest, age gap, domestic murder family. if you’re here i imagine you know exactly what he’s about.

notes: hello! it has been a hot minute since i updated, but i promise i am not dead. i just went on a real vacation and juggling two longfic projects at once is (surprise) very time consuming! but i am here with chapter two. it's a lot of roman pretending not to be jealous when he's actually seething inside (we love to see it), as well as a few little drops of intrigue. yes, i know, i TOO wanted an entire longfic about roman and varya just making out between dramatic proclamations of their violent devotion for each other, but alas, alack.

special thank you to my beta @starcrier who of course helped me proof a good portion of this, and is eternally my cheerleader and the loml, as well as @shallow-gravy who put her eyes on the very very rough draft of this when i wanted to bash my head into the top of the desk a-la-roman's theatrics. without you this chapter would not have happened!

and thank you to everyone who has read this so far! carry your throne was truly my baby and so getting to write a sequel for it is the most incredible feeling. your support means the world to me. <3

Roman did not like sharing his things.

It was perpetually difficult enough to have let Varya waltz around the club so that she might have happily enjoyed being lavished attention on (attention that was, to be kept in mind, not his)—but watching a stranger, an interloper from her past, indulge himself in her, that was excruciating. Because that’s what it was, in the end; less about his girl enjoying herself and more about people enjoying her, realizing they would never have her, that she would always be his.

So as Irina took the twins back upstairs and Roman ushered her back into the throng of partygoers, he did so with intent; Roman watched Varya wind her way from person to person, lingering at their friend Dorian—dutiful member of the press always content to show her in a good light—before she and Maxim connected.

Roman watched them. He watched the way Maxim beamed at her, the way he ducked his head to hear her say something. He laughed and rocked back on his heels a little, and when Varya brought the glass to her lips, Roman saw it—saw Maxim’s eyes dart down to her mouth, their ascent short-lived as he busied his hand with sweeping a stray curl from her face. Maxim seemed very comfortable touching Varya, he thought. Men were never comfortable touching Varya. They were either—he had found, at least—aware of her proclivity for having hands cut off or (what he could only argue was the most correct deterrent) understanding of the simple politeness that came with not putting your hands on another man’s woman.

More than anyone, Roman appreciated having the things which others could not, so that he could be envied: but this?

This was treasonous. Poisonous. Heretical. Not in my fucking house.

Puzzling yet was Varya’s willingness to let her childhood friend conduct himself in such a way. She was a greedy thing, his girl; he knew that she so loved the attention, preening and glowing under the adoration. Greedy and hungry for love. Had she always been so active a participant in the act of touching, of being touched? Even by a stranger?

Not a stranger, he reminded himself tartly. Childhood friend, the man whose father she killed. That’s two fathers now, in her ledger—her own and someone else’s. And petulantly, he thought it a bit unsettling that it was a bond he could never have with her—dear old dad was already dead as a fucking doornail, wasn’t he? No chance Varya would want to ice him for Roman a second time.

He had determined to swallow his pride (impressive, gracious, generous) and make his way over when Dorian swept in; Dorian, preening and wrapping his arms around Varya from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder and making the noisy announcement, “Stealing her away, thank you!” just before he steered her past Maxim. There, the crowd shifted and scooted out of the way to reveal the birthday cake getting wheeled out on its little tray, decorated in gem tones and sparklers.

The determination to close the distance between himself and their newfound associate did not abate, even with Dorian’s well-timed interjection. As he wove through the crowd of milling partygoers, accepting compliments on his good work, he waited until he got within a foot or two of Maxim to stop. Everyone was applauding the cake. Everyone was having a great time looking at the expensive cake glimmering under the oh-so-obnoxious chandelier, but mostly he thought they were applauding his wife.

So, Roman clapped. He clapped, because the cake was out and the sparklers were fizzing and popping prettily, dancing golden light across his wife’s delighted face. He clapped, because everyone else was clapping, too. He clapped, and he flashed an all-teeth smile at Varya from over the top off the elaborately decorated cake (tasteful, not gaudy, of course).

Over the fizzing and popping, and without taking his eyes off of Varya, he said to Maxim, “Did you fuck my wife?”

Maxim clapped. He clapped, too, and he stood there for a moment and blinked a few times and replied, “What?” His accent was thicker than Varya’s, and thicker than Ilarion’s had been.

“You speak English, don’t you?” Roman snipped, his words and perhaps some of his annoyance masked by the party chatter. Varya shrieked delightedly when Dorian dabbed frosting on her nose. “I asked if you’ve fucked my wife?”

The blonde cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck, apparently grateful that the attention had gone from clapping now to cutting the cake. In the corner of his eye, Roman could see Zsasz lurking—watching, keeping an eye, making sure he didn’t need to intervene on Roman’s behalf. Always a good man.

“No, Mr. Sionis,” Maxim replied, talking over the din of music and laughter.

Good, Roman thought. And then: “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Fuck,” Roman bit out, “my wife?”

Maxim barked out a laugh. He looked caught off-guard by the question—like maybe he wasn’t sure if Roman was asking to threaten or offering to join their marital bed—and then he said, “You have put me in an uncomfortable position. If I say no, I am insulting my childhood friend. If I say yes, I am insulting my new boss.”

There was something about this that flared a little spike of victory in Roman’s chest. Yes, that was right—he was Maxim’s new boss. And Maxim should be nervous about pissing him off, shouldn’t he?

“But,” the blonde plunged on, “I imagine having something that other people want feels good, does it not?”

His eyes narrowed. He smiled thinly. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “Yeah,” he agreed, “it sure fucking does.”

There was a moment where it looked as though the other man was going to say something, his mouth opening but no words coming out, brows knitting together at the center of his forehead; but then silk and warm stretches of skin were filling up Roman’s vision, Varya having swept around to come to him, eyes bright. They’d only been at the party for a little while, but already his fingers were itching—he wanted, having stood by idly while greedy hands brushed against his Varya, and it was time to erase them all, he reasoned. Wipe her clean of them as best he knew how.

Still, she had not looked so happy in a while, he thought. Varya always beamed around the twins, practically glowing radioactive from the inside out, but it had been a long time since he’d seen her so delighted without them in her arms. And surely, this was a testament to his doing—his meticulous, flawless planning, regardless of whatever wrench Maxim Kuznetsov was trying to throw. Yes, Roman thought, he had done exceptionally, in this as in all things.

“Romy,” she said sweetly, “are you playing nice?”

“I’m always nice, kitten,” he demurred, sliding his arms around her waist and nosing the hair at her temple automatically. Every time she came around, the gravitational pull was inevitable—hands on, hands on, hands on, making sure everybody knew exactly who she belonged to. “But you can ask your little friend, if you’re worried I’ve hurt his feelings.”

He said, you can ask, but he kissed her after he said it, purring against her mouth and keeping her otherwise preoccupied; when she did pull away, still encircled in his arms, she smoothed her hand along the exposed skin of his sternum and looked inquisitively at Maxim.

Roman mimicked the tilt of her head. The blonde regarded him for a moment, and then Varya, and then smiled.

“Your husband is very accommodating, Varushka,” he told her, shrugging as if to say, and what else would he be? “I have never met a man like him.”

He felt his mouth downturn—Varushka, the same pet name Ilarion had used with her. It was one thing to accept that his wife’s twin brother would always be held in high regard in her memory, that he’d had to endure the Varushkas and the closeness that they had shared that purposefully, intimately excluded him.

“That’s because there’s nobody like me,” Roman idled, despite the venom thrumming in his veins. He was cool. He was cool and fine and totally cool. Varya hummed and planted a kiss against the slope of his jaw; her nose brushed the hollow of his throat, more than content to remain there.

But even though their exchange remained pleasant, for a second, the blonde Russian regarded him with the same deadpan, venomous gaze that Ilarion had so often. It was so close to the way his wife’s twin had looked at him, in fact, that the disdain which had been almost exclusively reserved for Ilarion himself now prickled up the back of his throat like a bile—instinctual, muscle memory.

He had seen the same look crossing the faces of the men from St. Petersburg, flown all the way to Gotham to meet their new pakhan, as Varya had put it: disdain. We’re not for you, those fleeting glances said, despite the acknowledgment in all other things that they were. What do we want with some American gangster?

He was vaguely aware of Varya and Maxim saying something, exchanging words, but their voices had dulled to the cartoonish wah wah wah of an old-time cartoon, with Varya’s occasional laugh vibrating against his sternum. Maxim waved a hand dramatically. There was ink, there; he hadn’t noticed it before. He’d been too busy inspecting the man’s stupid fucking face, trying to find the lip of his mask somewhere in there. False fucking face, that’s all it was.

And yet: Roman could not help but feel a little burn of intrigue at the sight of the inked Cyrillic letters on the back of the man’s hand.

“—stairs, my darling?”

Varya’s voice bled through the dull static that had overtaken his mind. He glanced at her, reaching up and tracing the slope of her jaw with his thumb, his other fingers splaying along the spine of her neck. Obediently, her chin tilted. She was complacent like this—docile, even; he could have snapped her neck if he wanted, dug his nails into that warm, dusky skin and watched the blood well, and she would have let him—so much so that he wondered at it for a moment. All of his hard work, all of his tempering, cupped right there in his hand; she was his.

Rather than admit to having checked out of their conversation, Roman pressed the pad of a gloved thumb against her lower lip and deferred, “Whatever you want, kitten.”

Briefly, the thought that he had agreed to let Maxim into his loft occurred. Oh, what a dreadful thought.

“Then it’s settled,” she replied. “You can stay while the party goes on, of course, Maxi.”

Maxim lifted his head, regarding them with a gaze that was no longer venomous, but playful. “Of course.”

“And you’ll leave the address of where you’re staying with Armazd?”

“If you want it, I will.” He cocked his head, smiling politely. “Goodnight, the both of you. I am happy to finally put a face to the name Roman Sionis.”

What the fuck is it with these people, he thought wearily, and with no absence of annoyance. This is just how it had been before—everyone saying things beneath the things they were saying, layers and layers and layers, piling up over each other. Didn’t any of these stupid fucking gun dogs say anything exactly the way it was?

“Yes,” Roman agreed, “I bet you are.”

With great purpose—and having determined that Varya was quite done with the evening—he planted his hands on her hips and turned her, steering her towards the doors which exited out of the club and into the hallway housing the elevator. It was her birthday, after all; there was nothing he could do except whatever it was she wanted.

“Goodnight, Maxim,” he said over his shoulder, steering the brunette in his grasp toward the door. A distressed ugh! sounded to his left, and he turned to see Dorian glaring at him accusingly.

“You get her all the time, Roman,” the journalist announced. “Surely you can spare her for a little longer?”

“Afraid I can’t,” he replied over his shoulder, squeezing Varya’s hip when she stifled her laughter. “You see Dorian, close to a year ago, Varya and I decided that we had plenty of other uses for cake to be explored on our birthdays—”

Another disgusted sound came, but it was too late; Roman was already nudging Varya through the doors to the hallway, and down to the elevator. Once the door clicked shut behind them, it was quiet; it was the one area of the building where it seemed like the air conditioning didn’t quite reach, having so many accesses to the outside, and so the air already felt a little humid and muggy.

“Oh, we forgot the cake,” Varya pouted, trailing ahead of him. She’d collected the hem of her silk dress loosely in one hand, keeping it from the floor as she wandered to the elevator to push the button. The neon red of the Exit sign cut across one side of her, illuminating her in half crimson and half shadow. It reminded him of the night he’d come back to the loft to find her covered in another man’s blood, kitchen knife in hand.

And mine, he thought. Varya Astakhova, the gem of St. Petersburg, only living heir to the Astakhov gun-running fortune, his wife.

“Darling,” she purred, breaking him out of his thoughts, “are you going to just stand there all night?”

“Maybe,” he replied idly. “Maybe I will just stand here all night and stare at my wife, hm? Who would stop me?”

“Well, certainly not me,” she demurred, turning to look at him fully now. “But you can hardly kiss me from there. And what am I suppose to do, go without cake and without your hands on me?”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Roman thought about the way Maxim had looked at him—just for that tiny split second—all of the disdain and venom welling in his gaze before it was wiped away. Your husband is very accommodating, I’ve never met a man like him. And that fucking tattoo on his hand. It nagged at him, dragged his attention away from the very, very delicious task at hand.

“Roman?”

“You go,” he announced. “I’ll be up in just a minute.”

A plush, ruby lower lip pouted out. Roman sidled over to the elevator, planting a gloved hand on the doorway so that the doors wouldn’t close, and she prompted, “What could you have possibly forgotten when all you need is right here?”

“You are most spectacular,” Roman agreed, reaching up and twisting a curl around his finger. “But it’s just a quick thing. Don’t worry that pretty head, kitten. I’ll be up in no time, and you had better—”

When he leaned in, their noses brushed; Varya hooked her fingers in the space between the buttons of his collared shirt and tugged a little, playfully, humming sweetly.

“—have this dress off,” he finished, voice pitching low and warm, “by the time I get up there.”

“And what if I don’t?” The cloying, saccharine tone of her voice belied the little spark of rebellion in her words. Roman made a pleasant sound against her mouth, a humid warmth plunging down his spine when she closed the tiny space between them to kiss him; it was entirely unhurried, and on instinct his free hand went to the small of her back, pulling her more flush against him as her lips parted prettily beneath his to sigh.

He said into the kiss, “Why don’t you try it and find out?”

“Is it a test?” Roman felt her smile. “I love tests.”

“Get upstairs,” he growled, unable to resist a final kiss. “Wicked thing.”

Varya did pull back, reluctantly and with a dramatic, long sigh. She’d always had a thing for the dramatics. “Fine, I will go upstairs all alone,” she drawled. “Don’t keep me waiting, Romy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He stepped back, dropping his hand from the elevator door and turning around to head back to the club. The party was still in full swing; people wouldn’t even begin to start leaving for another few hours, patiently and dutifully babysat by Armazd and Zsasz (well, mostly Armazd—Zsasz was not good at being ‘patient’ or ‘dutiful’ if it didn’t include face-carving). It was like having three nannies on payroll, instead of just the one.

The door swung shut behind him. People chattered brightly over the music, lingering around tables in clustered groups. He could see at least half a dozen mobsters and their families, associates of Varya’s from overseas, socialites she had charmed and wealthy businessmen determined to get into their good graces before the weapons chokehold came into full effect.

But there was only one man he wanted to see.

Dorian Young had been smitten with Varya since the moment they’d met, through Roman—and since then, they’d been nearly inseparable. Dorian had even done her the kindness of writing Ilarion a flattering obituary. It would have been annoying, if Roman considered Dorian a threat in the least. He did not.

“Dorian,” he barked out, catching the brunette’s attention. He smiled, full-teeth and as charmingly as he could. “Buddy-mine. I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Oh?” Dorian arched a brow loftily. “A favor outside of the eternal wisdom of Gotham’s madonna, Roman? How scandalous. You know I can’t resist a special in.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Roman adjusted one of his gloves absently, glancing around the room before inclining his head and taking a few steps outside of the cluster of milling partygoers. He didn’t have many concerns about being overheard, given the noise level, but it was better safe than sorry. “You have access to certain records, don’t you?”

Now two perfectly-manicured brows arched upward before Dorian cleared his throat, dark eyes fluttering in a bat at innocence.

“I’m a journalist, Roman,” he intoned somberly. “If someone were to give me access to records that were anything but public, it would be a grave and disgusting infringement on the American Privacy—”

“Yeah yeah yeah, shut the fuck up,” Roman interjected, waving his hand. “I don’t give a shit about that. How about this: you don’t use the records you aren’t able to access, and you don’t dig up literally everything you can on Maxim Kuznetsov.”

“The ex-boyfriend?” Dorian tsked his tongue. “Roman, green is not your color.”

“Hey? Dorian? Don’t be a fucking moron.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Well just say you’ll do it.”

“You mean,” Dorian amended, “that I won’t.”

Roman let out an exasperated noise, clapping a hand onto the man’s shoulder and giving him a little jostle that was meant to convey he wished that he could instead be strangling him in that moment. Varya would have been upset if he did. Dorian flashed him a pearly grin.

“Consider it done. Or not-done, as the case may be.” He took a swig of his drink, sucking his teeth. “Anything I should be on the look-out for?”

“Any red flags. Suspicious shopping behavior. Outgoing calls to private numbers. He’ll likely have two separate phones—one burner, one not.” Roman dropped his hand from Dorian’s shoulder. “Armazd will have his address, if you want to get that from him before you leave tonight. And—one more thing.”

The journalist looked at him expectantly, waiting.

“Not a word,” he continued. “To anyone. But especially not to Varya.”

“If you’re sure,” Dorian ventured.

“The surest.”

It was when he turned to depart the party—for real, this time; he was tired of waiting to unwrap his wife—that Dorian said, “Roman?”

A deep, calming breath. I need Dorian, he reminded himself, and V’s fond of him. Roman pulled another one-eighty. “Yes, Dorian, beloved of my wife?”

“How is Varya?” Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “I mean, really?”

The question was not one that Roman had anticipated. Why would she be anything other than great, glowing, in love with her life? Sure, the last year had been full of turmoil—but they had come out of it fine. Better than fine. Roman had gotten everything he had wanted, and Varya—well, much the same, hadn’t she?

Dorian’s prying reminded him of the way Varya’s body had stilled, the way her expression had hardened, that dark, wild look slipping into her eyes when the lights in the club had blinked on to reveal the surprise party. She’d looked frigid, the softness wiped clean from her in that split moment.

“She’s fine,” Roman replied after a minute. “I mean—she’s great. What do you mean?”

“I can’t get a good read on her. You know,” Dorian pointed out. “And she did watch her supposed-to-be-dead daddy unload a round into her twin brother while she was drugged to the gills on ketamine.”

Well, when you put it like that, Roman thought dryly.

“Some of us, Dorian,” he said primly, “are able to rise above our trials and tribulations and come out better, hm?”

The journalist smiled. He didn’t looked swayed by Roman’s words, but eventually he said, “I’ll contact you as soon as I find out anything.”

“Good man.”

It was only a few minutes from the club’s main floor up to the loft, but those few minutes felt like an eternity; stretching out, impossibly long and endless in front of him. Varya’s birthday was supposed to have been a problem-less occasion, and now he had several problems lining themselves up in front of them. Chiefly, Kuznetsov. And the rest of them, too, but mostly Maxim.

Roman tugged the gloves from his hands and shrugged the suit jacket from his shoulders as the doors to the loft slid open, the gentle ding announcing his arrival. Faintly, he could hear the classical music that Varya favored to play in the twins’ room as they slept; there would be a little speaker on the table closest to her side of the bed, so that she could rouse the second either of them needed her, but they were good babies, like she’d said; it was rare when they didn’t sleep through the night.

He tossed the articles he’d disrobed from onto the long dining table as he passed, nudging the door to the bedroom open.

“Ah,” he sighed, eyes roaming expanses of warm, dusky skin exposed to him as Varya lay stretched out on the bed, “I see we went with behaving tonight?”

“I told you,” she replied demurely, “I love a good test. I can hardly resist the challenge.” Her eyes glittered playfully, and she propped herself up on her elbows, the silk of her underclothes rustling in a way that beckoned him—his hands, his mouth. “You didn’t bring any cake up?”

A quick laugh billowed out of Roman as he sidled over, stepping out of his shoes before climbing onto the bed. “It’s vanilla, you know. Not chocolate. It would have been sacrilege, in memory of our first big fight.”

“Was it chocolate?”

“Oh, yes,” he told her gravely. “I’d never forget. Don’t you remember? You were a terrible brat to me, and then you didn’t speak to me for a week, and then you showed up with a cake—”

“Terrible brat?” She laughed, feigning insult. “On my birthday, no less.”

He grinned. Leaning down, he pressed a leisurely, open-mouthed kiss to the top of her sternum, hooking one hand in the crook of her knee to yank her down the bed so that she was more firmly under him, eliciting a playful little shriek out of her before he tugged the tie of her robe loose.

“Your birthday, yet here I am, unwrapping a present,” he murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the slope of her jaw. He rumbled, pleased, “I’ve been thinking about you all day, you know.”

Varya made a sweet little sound. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm.” Roman kissed down the pillar of her throat, dragging his tongue over a faded love-bite bruise. He’d need to renew that. “Especially when you put on that dress. Admittedly, I am a bit disappointed—I was looking forward to cutting it off of you if you misbehaved.”

“For someone who spent all day thinking about me,” she murmured coyly, “you certainly spent long enough coming up here.”

Roman paused in what he was doing—his fingers hooked in the top hem of her underwear, scandalous things that they were—and glanced up at her. He was trying to gauge where she was actually at, emotionally, but true to what Dorian had said, it was almost impossible to get a read on her.

“It’s just business, baby,” he replied.

“Oh. Of course.”

“You see? I told you not to worry about it.”

“Yes,” Varya agreed, “what would I know of business?”

Roman groaned, pressing his forehead to the smooth plane of her sternum. The scent of her jasmine perfume washed over him, and even though he was this close to indulging himself (which he, above all others, deserved the most), he knew Varya wouldn’t let go of the conversation so easily.

“It’s nothing,” he insisted. He let the fabric of her underwear snap back into place against her hip bone, sliding down her body to kiss down her abdomen. “Focus on enjoying your birthday,” he added, “and let your man worry about everything else, hm?”

Varya’s lashes fluttered lightly, eyes watching him hungrily as he worked his way lower and lower still.

“Ambitious,” she murmured, “to think that I will let go of it so easily.”

“Well,” Roman replied against her skin, “I suppose it’s lucky that I love tests, too. And I always—”

The thin, silky fabric of her underwear made the most delicious sound as it ripped, tearing satisfyingly. Varya made a soft, sweet sound, and he glanced back up at her.

“—pass with flying colors.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

In his experience, Roman found that the best time to approach Varya about things was first thing in the morning. If he was exerting any amount of true self-awareness, of course, he would have acknowledged that “approaching” Varya about anything was not about the time of day, but rather how it was done—a skill Roman thought he had only honed in their short time together.

It was nearly ten; they’d roused late, thanks to the previous evening’s festivities—including an after-hours indulgence that Roman was more than pleased to drag out— and now Varya was chatting conversationally with Zsasz, who provided minimal noises between mouthfuls of food. It was as though her annoyance from the previous night had faded with the glow of morning, which left only the bones that Roman had left to pick.

Therefore, in a show of good faith, he let the chatter carry on for a little while before he decided to Broach(TM).

“So,” he said, sitting in his usual spot at the head breakfast table, “Maxim is funny.”

To his right, the brunette hummed and idly stirred her coffee. The gentle clink-clink of her spoon against the side of the mug was almost soothing; little creature comforts Roman hadn’t realized very often that he truly liked.

“I don’t remember you ever mentioning him,” Roman continued casually.

“I do not like to talk about boring things.” Varya’s brow was furrowed, lips pressing into a little line as she read the newspaper. “Pass me the cream, my love?”

She was feigning disinterest, but he thought she might have been listening more closely than she let on; one wolfish little ear swiveled in his direction, always.

He did as she asked. “He has an interesting tattoo on his hand.”

“I did not notice.”

“No?”

Varya finally tilted her head to look at him, dark eyes inquisitive. She didn’t ask what it was she was thinking, not right away; instead, she waited, did that thing where she let him sit in silence, maybe in the hopes that he’d fill it with his own chatter. He didn’t, of course. He wasn’t stupid.

“Romy,” she said sweetly, setting the paper down and resting her chin in her hand as she gazed at him, “won’t you just ask me what you want to ask me?”

There was no room to stop the irritated noise that came out of him at her words. He scoffed and settled more comfortably in his chair, lifting his chin a little and watching her.

“Or we can play the little game,” she acquiesced, as though she were speaking to a particularly tedious child. “You don’t really care about Maxim’s tattoo. You just care what I think of him.” She fluttered her lashes. “Hm?”

“No,” he replied tartly. “I’m curious about the tattoo.” He paused. “And also what you think of him.”

“I think he is boring.”

“Well, I could have told you that.”

A smile curved her mouth, delicate and fine a gesture as gossamer spread across those soft, Renaissance-features. That painting of her that had been done in the ballroom of the Astakhov mansion was still around somewhere, wasn’t it? Not that he needed a painting when he had the real thing, but maybe he’d hang it in the foyer, as a reminder to anyone who just happened to pass by.

“As far as I’m concerned,” Roman continued idly, “this man of yours—”

“My man, is he?”

“—is just one more obstacle to getting what I wanted. How do you think he’s going to react when he finds out that you put his daddy in the ground?”

“If,” Varya replied. “And what do you mean, obstacle?”

Another scoff came out of him. “Varya,” he chided, voice welling with a patronizing tone, warm and buttery, “come now.”

“Roman,” she replied. Her tone mimicked his. “Explain it to me like I am five.”

“I know the oh-so-omniscient lords of St. Petersburg and Moscow are dragging their fucking feet because they don’t like me.”

“You are trying too hard.” She settled back, dipping a bit of cream into her coffee and stirring again. Clink-clink. It offered him no comfort now; it had become a way for Varya to dismiss him. Don’t you see, Roman, how busy I am? “They are like cats. If you try too hard to gain their affections, they will balk and bolt. They hate being coddled, except by a woman. It’s terribly outdated, but what can you do?”

“I’m—” A sharp, incredulous noise came out of him. “I haven’t spoken more than a handful of words to the lot of them!”

“You see? That is already too much.”

“Well, I don’t want them to like me,” he managed out, feeling the bubbling frustration rising up in him. “I couldn’t give a shit if they like me or not. I want them to accept that leadership is changing hands and they have a new boss to answer to, now.” He leaned forward, forearms rested on the table. “And I know Daddy Astakhov liked to brand his things, hm? So what’s Maxim’s tattoo mean?”

Varya leaned forward, too. “I do not know,” she replied evenly, “and I wish you would stop bringing that man up in my presence.”

“I can’t very well erase him from the conversation completely when I’m inheriting his business.”

“My,” she snapped out viciously, suddenly, “you are inheriting my business, Roman.”

It was just a split second. It was only a split second of venom welling up in her expression, suddenly so wicked that not even Roman was shielded from it; it was worse, now, than it had been before. Those times he’d seen the switch inside of her flip had been under great duress. Was this duress to her, now?

Women, Roman thought, watching her smooth dark hair from her face and collect herself. Perhaps motherhood had not made her soft, but rather emotionally volatile. He couldn’t afford to look more hysterical than his wife, so he waited—with great patience and grace, he thought—for her. She cinched the silk robe at her waist more snugly.

“You know that I am happy to do so,” she continued, as though she’d not just bitten his head off in front of Zsasz, “and that I have no problem with it. I just want...” Now, her voice trailed off, and she skimmed the pad of her index finger along the rim of her coffee cup before she picked up the newspaper again, as well as the red-ink ballpoint to her right. “I want it done right, that is all. And if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

A buzzing sound vibrated from the marble hallway leader to the elevator. Roman was waiting for Varya to issue her apology (which she was certainly going to do), and Varya wasn’t looking up from the newspaper.

“Who could be coming so early?” his wife idled, spurring on that molten-hot frustration inside of him as she continued to avoid the topic at hand. “Not someone you called on, Romy?”

The buzzer was the last thing that Roman wanted to think about, let alone deal with. He had much more on his mind; Varya’s elegant dodge of his questions, and—most importantly—her blatant dismissal of his concerns about their current timeline. She was all well and peachy over there, wasn’t she, drinking her coffee and reading her paper and not doing him the courtesy of looking at him?

She had always been a needler, Roman reasoned; she had always had a wild, stubborn streak in her. He’d watched her sit and push Ilarion’s buttons for an entire dinner, once, just to see him get to the edge of snapping at her. She was good at it. He liked it about her, liked watching her do it; might have even made a past-time out of the whole sport of it. How quickly can my little viper unravel a man? Place your bets, gentlemen, time ends when the idiot’s screaming his fucking head off in a public place.

And he would have been foolish to think that she never did it to him.

“Zsasz,” she said, without looking up from the paper, “be a darling and get that, won’t you?”

Zsasz, who had been sitting at the far end of the table watching all of this unfold the way a man might watch a trainwreck happen, moved to come to a stand. Roman barked out, “Stay,” and the movements stilled considerably, immediately. It was satisfying, at least, in an exchange which had been everything but up until then. He turned his gaze to the brunette on his right.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he said tersely. He gestured to Zsasz. “Sit.”

The blonde did. Roman could feel Victor’s eyes darting between them.

“Oh, darling, you are spoiling my morning.” Varya set the newspaper down on the table and smoothed it out primly, the thin paper edges fluttering between her fingers. “Why would you ever say such a silly thing?”

“Varya.”

“Surely you do not mean to.”

“V,” he snapped.

“Well, I do not know what you want me to say,” she replied after a minute, leaning back in her chair to finally look at him. “My father never deigned to share his operations with me. It was always ‘what a tedious child you are, Varvara’ this, and ‘since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved’ that. I mean, the man spent most of my life quoting Machiavelli at me. Do you think he told me what all of his little art projects meant?” She shrugged, picking her newspaper up again, ignoring the second sound of the buzzer. “You could just ask.”

The irritation spiked high and hot in his throat. Of course, he could just ask. Of course, he could, but he was the fucking boss, which meant doing things like asking an employee what a stupid fucking tattoo meant were below him. He replied tersely, “Why don’t you figure it out for me? Clerical work and employee management is your forte, after all.”

Varya hummed. It was a prim, musing hm, the sound she made when he’d said something she found to be particularly annoying. “If you wanted me to personally manage Maxim,” she demurred, glancing at him through dark, sooty lashes, “you only had to say.”

Somehow sensing this particular phrasing was not going to go over well with Roman (it wasn’t), Zsasz said, “Can I buzz ‘em up?”

“Yes,” Varya replied.

“No,” Roman insisted.

“Romy, there’s a guest.”

“I’m not through with you,” he snapped.

“I’m gonna buzz ‘em up,” Zsasz announced.

Roman felt the frustrated note rising in his throat, strangling it before it could quite make its way out of him. His jaw set; his eyes followed Zsasz on his way out of the main room and toward the elevator to—presumably—let up their guest (intruder). He drummed his fingers against the top of the dining table and said, “You think you’re very funny, don’t you?”

“Darling.” Varya leaned forward, elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together and cradling her chin atop them. She looked awfully pleased with herself, the little snake, that gigantic stone sitting on her finger. “If I knew what the tattoo meant, I would just tell you. Why not? I could tell you what the word is, but that is hardly ever what the tattoo actually means.”

Darling, she said, as though she hadn’t just snapped her teeth at him moments before. Roman sucked his teeth. Yes, it was very reasonable, he thought; Nikita had always cherished his son over his daughter, had always anticipated Ilarion taking over the business, as Varya had framed it—and even once, Ilarion had confirmed himself. He wanted you and only you, Ilya, and that’s why you couldn’t look at him when he died. That’s what she’d said, and the memory of that night—of Varya, needling the person she was closest to in the world, weaned from venom and taking so much pleasure from inflicting it on someone else—reminded him that there was still much about his wife left to be unearthed.

And it would be an unearthing. Roman had no doubt that it would be a graveyard he would be turning over, full of skeletons—not just a closet.

From the other room, the sound of an infant’s cry drifted down the hall. Varya’s gaze flickered to the space over Roman’s shoulder, behind him, and she came to a stand.

“I will ask, if you would like me to,” she told him, coming around the table and smoothing her hand along his shoulder in what was supposed to be a peace-making gesture. “But I don’t think there is a reason to bother yourself with the detail.”

He felt his mouth press into a thin line. Fine, he thought, fine, the tattoo isn’t a big deal. But what about everything else? “This is all taking a long time, V.”

“I know.” She paused, and then softened a little, all of her button-pushing and needling having dissipated for the moment; Varya leaned down and kissed his temple, and then the top of his cheekbone. “These things take patience, you know. It is not just a—used car business we are inheriting. There are processes, formalities, the like. The men have to know they can trust you.” She paused, tilting her head and regarding him with dark, inquisitive eyes. “You just have to trust me, Romy.”

Roman sighed. I do, he thought, turning his head to look at her. Don’t I?

Of course, he did. She was his wife, the mother of his children—and Roman hadn’t even wanted kids, not really. Not until he realized how much they, by proxy, made Varya belong to him. There was nothing quite so devoted as carrying someone’s child, was there? So yes; he did trust her, in the same capacity at which he supposed a man trusted a relatively-domesticated panther on a chain. Maybe just a smidge more than that. But enough to expect she’d bite off someone else’s hand, and not his.

“Fine,” is what he said, and the word still came out a little petulant. “I will. I do.” Reaching up, he snagged her wrist when she started to pull away, keeping her in place. She watched him expectantly.

When he didn’t say anything—just watched her, gauging her—she prompted playfully, “Are you going to scold me?”

Roman pressed the pad of his thumb to the pulse point on her wrist. His eyes narrowed. “I ought to, vicious girl. You just can’t resist pushing a button when you see it, can you?”

Her pulse jumped pleasantly under warm skin, whether by the term vicious girl or his touch, he didn’t know. It seemed that storminess had passed as soon as it had arrived; and though she hadn’t yet uttered the words I’m sorry, he almost preferred her like this. Coy.

“You would be bored, otherwise.” Her eyes glittered, mischievous. “Don’t you think?”

His fingers stayed curled around her wrist, but she didn’t try and pull away. Watching the flutter of her eyelashes, the way the corners of her mouth quirked upward in a smile, he felt nearly won over. How tedious, Roman thought, that even when he was irritated with her, he found her endearing. That’s amore.

“Don’t goad me,” he warned, and Varya smiled dreamily at him.

“I love you,” is what she replied, and then leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Let’s never fight again.”

He dropped his grip from her wrist and she stepped around his chair, the silk of her robe fluttering behind her as she started to the sound of babbling infants. The one or two cries that had roused her initially had melted down into baby-chat. Roman was reminded, once again, that they had a nanny on the payroll for seemingly no reason.

“Varya,” he called, taking the newspaper from where she’d left it on the table, “I mean it.”

Her voice drifted from down the hall: “Of course, Romy.”

The sound of the nursery door opening echoed, and then Varya’s voice; saccharine-sweet, honeyed and muffled by distance. He glanced over the front of the newspaper, but it was impossible to focus on the words—what did they matter, anyway? He didn’t give a fuck about what was going on in Gotham. He had bigger fish to fry. Bigger, Russian, potentially radioactive amalgams of different fish that seemed to be stalling on a deal that should have been up and done with already. Not to mention, one of those fish breaking off of the nightmare-fish and showing up, unannounced, sporting tattoos likely administered to him by Nikita Astakhov himself?

These things take patience.

Roman suppressed a scoff. Like he didn’t have patience. He’d been the most patient. Varya had dragged her feet for about a month after they’d put Ilarion in the ground, but after that, things had typically moved fast—the engagement, the twins. Everything except the thing Roman had been waiting for since the beginning. Of course, he’d never anticipated inheriting the business himself and had only gone into the whole thing wanting an exclusive deal, but now he knew better. He knew what was owed to him. He knew what belonged to him.

The elevator door down the main hall dinged. Roman didn’t bother stifling the sigh that wanted to come out of him; it was only ten in the morning, who could possibly need him and for what? He pushed the chair back from the table and came to a stand, sucking his teeth and prepping what he thought could only be the tranquil expression of a man ready to murder before Maxim stepped inside.

He blinked. The tranquility fled his face. Zsasz trailed in after him, looking uneasy. There was something about his expression that didn’t sit right with Roman, the hard lines of the blonde’s face setting him even further on edge. Would his suffering never end?

“Oh, Maximillian,” he greeted, keeping his voice the pinnacle of lazily annoyed. “Clocking in for work a little early, aren’t we? Over-achieving?”

“I am an early riser,” the blonde acquiesced. He looked genuinely apologetic, the fuckhead, in Dolce & Gabbana, no less. “I hope I did not disturb you.”

“A big wager to make, first day on the job.” Roman trailed Zsasz with his eyes, watching the blonde pace around the far end of the table. What had gotten into him since he’d gone to buzz their guest up? Idly, he sat back down at the table, resuming to glance over the words of the newspaper he couldn’t have given two shits about.

And he said nothing. He instead enjoyed, immensely, the act of letting Maxim stand there in silent uncertainty. It was probably almost a full minute before Maxim cleared his throat, prompting Roman to set his newspaper down with a sigh, as though it were very troubling that he had to stop this thing he didn’t even want to do.

“If you’re here to play catch-up with Varya, she’s busy today,” he deadpanned, turning his gaze reluctantly to where Maxim stood. “And every other day. Generally, I think it would be safe to assume she’s much too preoccupied to assist with whatever problems you might have; that type of work is beneath her now, you know.”

“I am sure being a mother and wife is more than enough to keep her busy,” Maxim agreed soberly.

“And transitioning the business in my name,” Roman replied pointedly.

The blonde shrugged, smiling a little. “Of course.”

He felt his eyes narrow. He leaned back in the chair, interlacing his fingers while his elbows rested on the armrests of the chair. It was impossible to figure out what it was about Maxim that Varya might have liked; the man was painfully well-mannered and non-confrontational, which Roman knew wasn’t her style at all.

Never mind that Varya had not once said that there was a romantic interaction between them. That didn’t matter. He knew how men looked at his wife, and Maxim had been a little too comfortable touching her for there to have been nothing at all.

“But, I did not come here to speak to Varya,” the Russian continued, taking a few steps toward the table. “I actually came here to speak to you, Roman.”

Roman blinked. Well, that wasn’t what he expected.

“What?” he asked flatly.

“I wanted to come and see if you were free today,” Maxim elaborated casually. “I was Nikita’s man. Now, I am yours. It only seems right I get to know you better.” He gestured with his hand. “I know you have more than enough help around here, and I was tied up in Turkey before, but...”

Roman’s lips pressed into a thin line. He saw no trace of yesterday’s venom in Maxim’s face, no indication that he was trying to be sarcastic or pull some kind of joke. Instead, Maxim’s face looked completely open and earnest.

“You’re here to ask me on a fucking lunch date,” he began, “and not Varya?”

“Varya,” the blonde replied demurely, “is not my boss.”

Huh, Roman thought. He swept his gaze over Maxim scathingly, and then looked at Zsasz, who remained unreadable. Well, wasn’t that just the most unhelpful thing? It did feel nice to hear Maxim say it, even if Roman would rather see him crying or begging or bleeding out.

“I’m busy today,” he replied after a moment, turning his attention back to Maxim. “But you can swing by the—”

“Maxim.” It was Varya’s voice. Roman turned to look at her. There was no baby in tow. This wouldn’t have been unusual, if Maxim had been a stranger; she tended to keep the twins as far out of reach of people she did not know as much as possible, nested away for safety. But Maxim had been her childhood friend, hadn’t he?

“Good morning,” Maxim greeted her warmly. “I was just asking Roman if he would—”

“I know what you were asking,” Varya interrupted. “You overestimate yourself, showing up to your boss’ home unannounced, don’t you think?”

Maxim looked about as lost as Roman felt; the sensation that he’d stepped into a fever dream very suddenly was washing over him. He looked at Zsasz. The blonde gave a little shrug, as though to say, Why the fuck would I know?

“Varushka,” Maxim ventured after a moment, “you know I did not mean...”

“I don’t know anything at all,” the brunette replied coolly. “You should have called ahead.” She paused, and then added purposefully: “Temka never showed up unannounced.”

Roman found himself in the very strange position of feeling...bad (?) for Maxim, standing there a little helplessly, the poor thing. Varya’s words had gutted him. He could only assume that she was referring to the blonde’s father when she said Temka, by the look on his face, and that—

Oh, you wicked thing, he thought, affection welling up inside of him as he looked at Varya, you know just how to unravel a man. Sticking a salted hot-poker straight into his grief-wound, aren’t you?

“I am sorry,” Maxim said after a minute. “I did not mean to be so thoughtless.”

“The transgression is not mine to forgive.” Varya swept around Roman then, sitting back down in her seat. She looked at him, expectant. “Roman?”

“Me?” he asked.

“It is as Maxim said,” she replied. “You are his boss, not me.”

He waited to see if there was some kind of strange undertow to her words, but he could find none; just Varya waiting, expectantly, for him to excuse Maxim’s showing up without having called ahead. It was odd, and he couldn’t figure out why it was that she was acting like this toward Maxim now—had it been the Varya is not my boss comment? Was she trying to make up for their little spat?

It was commonplace for nothing to be straightforward, with Varya. This was different.

“So,” she continued primly, turning to look at Maxim now, “apologize to your boss.”

“I am—” Maxim stopped, like he didn’t want to do it, drawing Roman’s gaze to him. Quite suddenly, Roman thought he knew exactly what his wife was doing; putting the blonde in a position where he’d have to put good faith behind his words. Varya is not my boss, he’d said, but did that matter if he couldn’t even apologize to Roman?

He finished, more smoothly now, “I am sorry, Roman.”

Roman beamed. “Insolence forgiven,” he replied, all thoughts of his disagreement with Varya gone now. He reached over the table, snagging her hand and dragging the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand. “As I was saying—I am busy today, but you are welcome to swing by the club later this evening. Before midnight. We get busiest just before the witching hour.”

Maxim ducked his head. “Of course.”

Varya’s nails skimmed Roman’s palm. She didn’t look up when she said, “Was there something else, Maxim?”

“I do not think so.”

“Then,” she replied sweetly, “have a lovely afternoon.”

A moment stretched where the blonde looked a little unsure, and then he cleared his throat and said, “Of course,” and excused himself down the hall. Varya circled something in the newspaper with her red-ink pen, her other hands still interlaced with Roman’s.

“Mr. Zsasz,” she began, “did you let Maxim up?”

Zsasz looked at Roman. “I didn’t,” he replied after a minute. “Armazd did.”

“Hm,” came the reply, even as she noted something in the margins of the paper.

“Were you apologizing for your tantrum, just now?” Roman asked. He would puzzle out why Armazd letting Maxim up was worthy of a hm later. Now, he could see the hint of a smile ticking the corners of Varya’s mouth upward, but she did not sway from whatever it was that had captured her attention in the news of Gotham; instead, she circled something absently.

Varya said, “Did you find it a suitable apology?”

He considered. “Well, I would have liked it better if you’d made him cry.”

“It would have spoiled my appetite,” she demurred, folding the newspaper primly and coming to a stand. “I am taking the twins to the park with Irina. And Zsasz too, if you’ll spare him. I won’t be back until late afternoon.”

“Late? Then you’d better come here, wife.” Roman tugged on her hand, watching her expression warm when he said wife. Once, he might have squinted at loaning Zsasz out to her. Now, he didn’t mind; especially if it gave a peace of mind that she and the twins be that more secure. “So that I can get my fill of you before you’re gone.”

The brunette laughed, letting him tug her down onto his lap. She carded the fingers of her free hand through his hair and brushed their noses together; it was all glowing affection, now, warmth buzzing under her skin.

“Oh, darling, now I want to leave quicker, and more often,” she murmured, “so that you’ll never have your fill of me.”

Roman supposed that was how she’d gotten him in the first place. Hooked him with being inaccessible, with being coveted—as if she had always known he was not a man could resist something considered off-limits—and now that he had her, he couldn’t get enough of her. He’d seen the way that others looked at her, and by proxy him; with want. With envy. Bruce Wayne could eat shit.

“Roman,” Varya said, “I want you to be careful when you are around Maxim.”

He paused, pulling back to look at her a little. She smoothed her hand over the slope of his collarbone affectionately.

“You are right,” she continued. “When Maxim finds out what I did—if he does—he will be angry about it. He is used to being the right-hand man, you know. Do not...” She glanced down, looking for the words. “Do not give it to him so easily. Make him work for it and prove himself to you.”

Tracing the lines of her expression—soft, concerned—Roman dragged his thumb across her wrist.

“I told you, doll.” He planted an affectionate kiss to her wrist. “Don’t worry about these things. I’ve got it perfectly under control.”

“I know,” she agreed. “I know you do, Romy—”

“Then stop this fussing,” he interjected mildly. “You’re spoiling your very charming apology. You know I love a good public humiliation. Which park are you taking the twins to?”

The dark eyes of his wife swept over his face for a minute, contemplative and impossible to gauge, before she smiled at him warmly.

“The one just a few blocks away. It has the most shade. Mr. Zsasz, won’t you bring the car around?”

And just like that, things were back to normal. Varya swept away to busy herself with getting ready and loading the twins, and Zsasz went to pull the car around, leaving Roman at the table for a rare moment of peace. Soon enough, he’d have all the information he needed from Dorian, and he could well-and-truly mitigate Maxim Kuznetsov as a problem, and everything would be back on track. He could bet money Varya didn’t think he’d had the foresight to dig up information on Maxim—it wasn’t his style to get his hands dirty, but extreme circumstances called for extreme measures.

Roman sighed, quite pleased.

Back to normal.

#spilled ink #f: the land of gods and devils #roman sionis/oc #x: this smile is a loaded gun #c: varya astakhova #c: roman sionis #c: victor zsasz #c: maxim kuznetsov #honorable mention to dorian for being a true homie #birds of prey fic #birds of prey oc #i think uhhhhhhhh yeah i think that's it!#thank you thank you thank you everyone who has even given me a tiny bit of love for this #it's definitely a project that's self-indulgent but !!!!#<3

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

Superstar | Julie Molina

JATP x BTR crossover week, Day 4: Elevate

Song used: Superstar - Big Time Rush | Also a tiny bit of This Is Gospel (piano version) - Panic! At The Disco

Pairing: Julie x reader

Summary: For a psychology project, the students have to shadow someone completely opposite from their own personality to notice difference, similarities and other things they notice. Julie knows exactly who she’d want to pair up for this. Though it doesn’t quite go the way she thought it would.

A/N: Thanks @jatp-btr, @meangirlsx and @darlingsteveharrington for this amazing idea! Honored to be a part of this!

Warnings: Mention of abusive parents

Words: 5,107

Fire and ice. Good and bad. Dark and light. Hot and cold. Black and white.

All polar opposites. All words that perfectly describe Julie and y/n. Which is exactly why Julie immediately looked at the girl with the smokey makeup and all-black outfit when their psychology teacher told them to pair up with someone that wasn’t anything like yourself.

While Julie is all light and fluttery like a butterfly, y/n is dark and sturdy like a castle. But Julie knew that even castles can have the most beautiful interiors even if their exterior seems nothing but stone and impenetrable.

Y/N started packing up her stuff at the ringing of the bell, signaling the end of class when she felt a presence in front of her. Slowly, she looked up from her bookbag where she’d just stuffed a binder into and her eyes landed on the overly sweet Latina girl the entire school knew as Julie, from Julie and The Phantoms. She was a celebrity at Los Feliz High School, though y/n didn’t really care about that. It wasn’t quite her scene.

“What are you looking at me for?” she asked, her tone annoyed at the preppiness of the widely smiling girl.

“I think we should do the project together for miss Silburn.”

Y/N let out a loud cackle as she stood up from her chair, shouldering her black bookbag. “Good one, Angel Face.” Y/N moved to navigate past Julie, but the persistent girl mirrored her movements, blocking the way. “You’re kidding,” y/n deadpanned.

“I am not. I think it would be super interesting to do this project together, we’re the complete opposite of one another! I think we could learn something from this!” Julie was way too chipper for a first period, which was indication enough for y/n to know that it would indeed be an interesting project to do together. But y/n wouldn’t be y/n if she let this girl waltz all over her. She had to put up a fight, even if she knew she was going to lose.

“Yeah, I’m learning that you’re annoying and are gonna make me late for PE.” She pushed past Julie, but the girl didn’t give up.

Julie crossed her arms over her chest. “I know for a fact you don’t go to PE.” Y/N stopped in her tracks in the doorway. “You suffer from migraines and thus don’t participate in PE because the physical activity triggers them.” A silence fell for a few heartbeats, five, to be exact. Y/N counted them until the loud, thumping heartbeats in her chest were drowned out by the girl’s voice. “If I can find out this information from just a few sources, imagine what else I can uncover. I’m gonna do this project about you, y/n, with or without your help. So, take your pick.”

Y/N whirled around to face the Latina girl again, her head tilted to the right ever so slightly as her eyebrows pinched together. “Why?” she asked and crossed her arms in hopes to come off as more intimidating, though it didn’t seem to phase Julie too much.

Julie shrugged. “Because I find you fascinating. You don’t seem to give a crap about anything, nothing ever phases you. You don’t seem to have very many friends besides Damian, who’s practically glued to your side. Nobody knows anything about you, not even Damian.”

“Then how do you know about my migraines?” Y/N asked as if all the other words she had spoken didn’t make the tips of her ears go warm.

“Connie,” Julie replied. Y/N nodded her head at the mention of the principal’s secretary. The woman knew everything about everyone. It was kind of terrifying. “So… Will you do this project with me?”

Y/N considered her options. It was either not participating and have Julie uncover everything about her or participate and have a say in what goes into the report and what doesn’t.

She inhaled deeply before finally muttering, “Fine. I’m in. But we start tomorrow.”

Julie’s face lit up as she nodded her head vigorously. This was too good to be true. Y/N, the mystery no one knew anything about was going to work on a project with her. A very intimate and mentally challenging project. This was about the best thing that had happened to her all day and it was only ten in the morning.

Julie had decided for the both of them that they’d start with her, so she texted y/n her address to make sure they really started from the first second of the day up until the last. Though none of it was without a whole bunch of whining from y/n as she never spoke to anyone in the mornings.

But Julie knew exactly what she needed to do to change that. She had to bribe the woman with pastries and a hot mocha. That’s all y/n needed to be ready to go on Julie’s porch at eight in the morning.

For a whole day, y/n ran behind Julie like a little shadow. She stood back whenever she spoke to any of her friends, not feeling like engaging with strangers, ever. Or at least not until Flynn complimented her black suede jacket and in particular the pin that she’d stuck on it. It was a pin she’d made herself that read “Your ‘everything better plan’, somewhere in Neverland”, one of y/n’s favorite All Time Low lyrics.

“I love All Time Low!” she said with a wide smile. “Where’d you get that pin?”

“I made it myself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

Conversations normally ended there for y/n. It was enough for people to find her weird or a nerd. Enough for people to suddenly lose all interest in her. But Flynn surprised her when she uttered her next words.

“Can you make me one?”

Y/N looked at the big, brown-eyed girl in front of her, then glanced down at her best friend who was looking at y/n with expectant eyes. She knew her coffee order and she knew about migraines, but she did not know about people not furthering conversation after that confession. She did not know all of this was new to her.

“Uhm, yeah. Sure,” she tried to be as indifferent as she could to try and keep up her persona of being the bad girl of Los Feliz high. Of course being with two angels, the polar opposites of y/n’s own personality, she had to go soft at some point of the day. “Just message me on Instagram or something with your general idea of what you’d like and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cool! Thanks!” Flynn beamed.

The bell rang and the three girls dispersed. One of them heading to drama class, the other two heading down to maths together. Miss Silburn had Connie adapt her students' schedules to match one another’s, so that they could actually spend the entire day together for the project. So, y/n and Julie could just stick by each other’s side for a day.

Y/N had to admit it was a nice change of pace for once. People smiled at her and said hello, while they would normally avoid all eye contact or they wouldn’t even notice she was in the room as she always sat in the back everywhere. She was happy when the final bell rang and Julie and y/n could head home together.

“You wanna come and sit into my band rehearsal?” Julie asked as they exited the school building, heading into the cool October air. As the wind picked up, y/n’s long hair swept up, giving her an angel-like glow, almost. Julie had yet to see her in another light other than the broody, black-all-day-all-the-way girl, but even as the wind swept her hair back, Julie could see a sliver of the tranquility that rested on her face.

Y/N felt Julie’s gaze on her, and to not show the Latina girl the back of her neck heated up, she asked a question instead. “So, I heard your band consists of holograms from Sweden?”

Julie nodded her head as they walked down the sidewalk into the direction of Julie’s house. “Yep, they are… From Sweden. And holograms.” Y/N raised her eyebrow at the girl before a chuckle tumbled out of her mouth, causing Julie to look up in confusion.

“You don’t think I believe that, do you?”

“Uhm…” Julie scratched her temple. Her brown eyes stared up into y/n’s suddenly brighter ones.

“I see you talking to them in school all the time. I know they’re ghosts. My grandmother used to be into some voodoo shit. She used to try to convince us she saw ‘shadow people’ all around the house all the time and we never believed her. But when I saw your little stunt you pulled a few months back and I could still see them when they weren’t on the stage, I guess I figured gran must’ve been right and she had some sort of gift that she passed onto me.”

Julie had a tender smile on her face as she listened to every word y/n spoke. She loved how the normally closed-off girl was blossoming like a beautiful flower in spring right in front of her eyes. She would’ve never blurted any of that out to somebody else.

“I don’t know, sounds kinda lame, I know.”

“No! No, it doesn’t sound lame. I wonder all the time why I can see them and no one else can…” Julie trailed off a little as her mind went over a thousand questions at the same time. “Do you think I have a gift like yours or your grandma’s?” she finally settled on.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know enough about that to tell you for sure. And my gran passed away last year, so I can’t ask her either.”

Julie pressed her lips together and a silence fell over the both of them. For the first time in an entire day, the quiet didn’t feel like a dark looming shadow that hovered over them. This time, it felt comfortable. Like they were wrapped up together in a fuzzy blanket of silence.

The curly-haired girl broke said comfortable silence when she walked into the garage with y/n in tow, where three boys sat chilling on the sofas. Two of which with an instrument in their lap. “Hey boys!”

The three boys looked up, all smiles and lit up eyes, glad their friend was home after a long day at school. Until their eyes fell upon the girl behind their friend and their happy faces were replaced with confused, curious faces.

“Who’s the new girl?” The dark-haired one with the rosy cheeks asked.

“I’m y/n, Julie and I are working on a psychology project together.” Her answer had the boys’ eyes widen and sputter some exclamations of confusion as they scrambled up from their spots and rushed towards the two girls to investigate a little further.

“She can see us?” the blondie finally spoke up. He was tall and skinny, a healthy glow on his face. “Jules, why can she see us?”

Julie and y/n exchanged glances, both trying to withhold their laughter. “We’re not sure.”

“Yeah, I mean, it might have to do with my grandma being gifted with the paranormal things, but we’re not sure,” the new girl explained, “I saw you guys after you performed that song at the pep-rally.”

Mister Rosy Cheeks’ eyes widened as he remembered what he’d done that day. “Y-you mean you saw… You saw….” he sputtered in absolute horror. Y/N chuckled and nodded her head, remembering how she saw the guy in the flannel run up the steps and shake his booty, presumably to check if no one could see them anymore.

“You got moves, bro,” she simply said and held out her fist for a fist bump.

Without thinking about it twice, Mister Rosy Cheeks pounded his fist against hers, only for his hand to go right through the girl’s. “Oh… right…” the boy muttered and returned to his spot beside the brunette with the beanie.

“I’m Luke, by the way,” he said and saluted y/n.

“Alex,” the tall blonde said with a kind smile as his eyes scanned y/n’s entire body as if trying to detect something.

She ignored it and let her eyes land on Mister Rosy Cheeks. “I’m Reggie.”

“Let’s get rehearsing, yeah?” Julie suggested, clapping her hands together. All three boys nodded curtly before getting to their usual spots in the garage whilst y/n took a seat on the big couch on the opposite side of the space.

“What song do you want us to play, y/n?” Reggie asked as he plucked a few strings on his bass. The girl raised an eyebrow at the boy. She knew exactly what song she wanted them to play, but for some reason, she felt the need to be defensive over the fact she liked their music.

“What makes you think I know any of your songs?” she asked.

Reggie stuttered and incomprehensive sounds tumbled out of his mouth. Luke then took the lead from his buddy. “Let’s just do Finally Free,” he said. Y/N’s mouth curved up on one side as the song she wanted them to play came off Luke’s lips. Either he can see right through her or she’s just so predictable, which is a word no one would use to describe y/n. Ever.

“That was pretty decent,” y/n half-complimented when they finished their rehearsal.

Truth be told, she was having a difficult time trying to keep still to the beats Alex was creating on his drums. She’d always had a weakness for the drums. As a kid, she wanted to play the drums, but her parents never let her. Instead, they sent her off to piano lessons instead and though she loved the instrument, she’s always loved the drums a little more.

“Decent?” Luke exclaimed as he placed his guitar on its stand. “You know you’re talking to the band who opened for Panic! At The Disco at the Orpheum, right?”

Y/N stared at him, an unimpressed look plastered onto her features. “Do you even know who Panic! is?” This question rendered Luke silent. “That’s what I thought.”

Y/N got up and made a beeline to the grand piano. As she took a seat on the stool behind it, intrigue peaked within the band and they gathered around the piano, leaving their instruments behind.

Her fingers softly caressed some of the white keys, sending a high-pitched note through the studio before properly placing her fingers and creating a beautiful melody. Soon thereafter, her voice rang out into the space as well, blowing the very talented band in front of her away, especially Julie. She did not expect this girl to be this talented.

“This is Gospel for the fallen ones Locked away in permanent slumber Assembling their philosophies From pieces of broken memories”

She had her eyes shut the entire time, not daring to even take a peek at the reactions of the small audience in front of her. It had been a while since she even sang in front of her parents, let alone strangers she had met not even an hour prior.

“The gnashing teeth and criminal tongues Conspire against the odds But they haven't seen the best of us yet”

Finally, she opened her eyes to find Luke resting his head in his hand, his elbow propped up on the piano wing while Reggie and Alex had just dropped their hands on the top. Julie’s eyes were wide as she had her hands wrapped around Alex’s arm and an endeared smile resting comfortably on her lips.

Y/N smiled before taking her voice up a notch, belting out the chorus.

“If you love me let me go If you love me let me go Cause these words are knives that often leave scars The fear of falling apart And truth be told I never was yours The fear, the fear of falling apart”

Her hands came to a halt and she pressed her lips together, anticipating their reaction. Julie took a sharp breath in while letting go of Alex’s arm.

“You have the voice of an angel,” Luke whispered as he stood up straight again.

Both Alex and Reggie nodded their heads in agreement while Julie stayed silent. Y/N braced herself for the girl’s critique, the only critique that really mattered to her right now. They were doing this project together, so y/n wanted to give her something to write about in the report, especially if it was something Julie herself was really good at.

“You…” Julie whispered. Y/N heart beated in her throat. “You are one big mystery and you keep surprising me.” The girl behind the piano allowed herself to breathe again. She stood up and came out from behind the piano to where the others were.

“I had to give you something to write about in your essay for psych, right?” she said nonchalantly as if her heart wasn’t beating faster with every glance and smile Julie gave her right now.

“Right…” Julie mumbled, unable to take her eyes off the girl.

She grabbed her bookbag from the couch and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m gonna get going. Meet me tomorrow at my place, Julie?”

The Latina girl didn’t entirely trust her own voice to speak right now, so she just nodded. Y/N waved at the boys, muttering a ‘bye’ before exiting the garage, leaving Julie and her phantoms by themselves.

All three boys whipped around simultaneously with the exact same expression on their face.

“What?” Julie asked.

“Someone has a crush…” Reggie replied, a smirk playing at his lips.

Julie’s face flushed red. “What? No! We’re just doing a project together.”

The boys raised their eyebrows. They knew Julie well enough to know when she had a crush. She looked at y/n the same way she used to look at Luke when they were dating a few months back.

And they were definitely right. Julie was developing a crush on the mysterious girl but she didn’t think y/n would ever feel the same way about her. She didn’t even know if she was queer or not. She knew barely anything about the girl, and still, she felt intrigued by her. She felt like she needed to get to know her better. Especially after having uncovered so much today already.

Maybe tomorrow would bring more clarity.

The next day was pretty similar to the first with Julie following y/n around to her classes instead. Though this time, they sat with Damian at lunch instead of Flynn. And while y/n was a bit more subdued around Flynn, Julie definitely wasn’t around Damian. The two chatted all-things music the entire lunch break long.

Y/N couldn’t help but admire Julie. She was so easy-going and chatty with everyone, a characteristic y/n wished she possessed. It was a good move of Julie’s to partner up for this project. The differences were immaculate.

“There’s a party tonight at Carrie’s, wanna go?” Damian asked the two girls, making y/n snap out of her thoughts.

“Uhm, sure,” she replied, then turned to Julie who gave her a pained expression. “Come on, Molina! You kinda have to for the purpose of the project.” Julie glared at the girl next to her before letting out a deep sigh.

“Fine. But I’m not gonna drink!”

“That’s what I always say, but never hold myself to,” y/n muttered and although Julie rolled her eyes, she couldn’t hide the smile that was threatening to spill on her face.

That night, after a lot of discussion as to why they couldn’t get ready at y/n’s house, Julie agreed to let it happen at her place. She had snacks and drinks at the ready upstairs and her makeup all laid out for them to start working on their faces.

When the bell rang, Julie sprinted down the stairs to make sure she’d beat her dad or brother, but by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, y/n was already inside with the boys by her side. Julie raised her eyebrows at her band members before letting her eyes land on the girl in their midst.

She was dressed in dark red military pants with a chunky belt and a silver chain hung from the belt loops. A black mesh top covered the top half of her torso, a black crop top underneath it, and just a fragment of her stomach exposed, which revealed the tattoo that decorated her skin.

“That’s a banging outfit, y/n,” Julie beamed before turning to the boys. “And what are you guys doing here?”

The boys sputtered, exchanging panicked glances. Neither of them had thought of a well-enough excuse for them to be there besides to see the girls’ crushes on each other blossom. “They’re coming with us,” y/n then said, unaware of the real reason why they were waiting for her on the driveway.

“Uhm… Okay?” Julie narrowed her eyes at the boys, who all tried to avoid her inspecting gaze. “Let’s go then, y/n. Make me pretty!” She said and added a ‘like you’ in her mind.

“That won’t be too hard,” y/n muttered before following behind the Latina girl.

About half an hour later, y/n had finally finished Julie’s makeup look. Though she didn’t need that much at all, her skin was practically flawless and her eyes were too pretty to heavy it up with lots of eyeshadow. So, she simply added some highlighter and a bit of contour, and used only nude tints on her eyelids. To finish off, she added a toned-down winged eyeliner.

“There you go!” the makeup artist stated and placed the brush on Julie’s vanity table. The girl opened her eyes and looked into the mirror in front of her. A gasp left her lips as she inspected her entire face. The gleaming highlighter on her cheekbones, the chiseled look the contour gave her, the eye-makeup. All of it looked perfect. And not at all like the no-makeup makeup look Julie normally sported.

“What can’t you do?” Julie mumbled.

Y/N giggled at the compliment before starting on her own makeup, hoping to mask the fact that she was blushing like crazy. While she did her makeup, Julie admired her in the mirror. She watched her every move like a hawk. Not because she wanted to see everything y/n was doing, but because she just thought it looked incredibly attractive to watch the girl pour out her art in such a unique way.

At this moment, Julie saw a completely different version of her. She wasn’t the dark, mysterious girl the school made her out to be. She didn’t even look like the girl in the studio, playing the piano. No, this girl had different levels to her personality and Julie had only been awarded with a few.

Though she might be the biggest subject of the school’s gossip cliques and she lets herself go wild more than the average teenager in Los Feliz, Julie could see that there was more to her than just that. Y/N was a star, but only Julie could see that. She only let it out around her.

It had already been an hour past the time the party would commence by the time y/n and Julie rolled up to the Wilson house. Music was thumping through the speakers, the bass palpitating through the floor and the girls’ lungs. It was one of y/n’s favorite feelings in the world. No matter what party she went to, it was always the best way to forget about anything that’s happening at home.

For the entire night, y/n let herself go with Luke and Reggie quietly by her side. They were dancing beside her, giving her enough space to move freely without having to accidentally run through them. All while Julie stood on the sideline, watching, when Alex poofed in beside her.

“You still gonna deny you have a crush on her, or?”

“I’m--” she cut herself off, knowing she can’t fool anyone. “Just look at her, Alex. She acts all mysterious and dark when in reality, she’s the brightest star out there. She’s so talented and so intelligent and kind and not at all what the rocklike exterior makes her out to be. Someone snuffed out that light of hers and it makes me sad, you know?”

“Then why don’t you tell her that?”

Julie looked up at her friend, her mouth opening without any words coming out. “I don’t know how to tell her all that?” she finally settled on.

Alex shrugged. “Sure you do.” Julie’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “What’s the one thing you both have in common?” Her face fell and was exchanged for a bright smile that lit up her entire face as the idea seeped in.

“You are a genius, Drummer Boy.”

For the entirety of the week, the two girls spend every waking hour together. They wrote the essay together and spent a lot of time writing a few songs together. But there was one song Julie wrote all by herself and kept away from the prying eyes of y/n and her three boys until it was the right time.

And the right time was their gig at a local food festival. To say Julie was nervous was a big understatement. After all the gigs they’d done, this one was the most nerve-wracking one out of all of them. Even more nerve-wracking than opening for Panic! at the Orpheum. Only because of the girl that stood in the crowd, awaiting their arrival on the stage.

“Hi, I’m Julie,” she said into the microphone. The festival quieted down as her soft voice flowed through the air. “From Julie and The Phantoms.”

Y/N cupped her mouth with her hands and whooped, sending a blush to Julie cheeks as she immediately recognized the voice. With a smile tugging on her lips, she placed her fingers on the right keys.

“This is a new song of ours, called Superstar.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. She did not know this song. They’d played her the entire set during rehearsal except for this one song. Julie’s eyes landed on y/n with an intense stare. Her friend in the crowd shot her an encouraging smile that told Julie she was there. No matter what.

“It’s about a girl I know. A girl that shines like the brightest star. A star of which the light was snuffed out. I hope you like it.” Y/N now realized Julie had her eyes on her because the words were directed towards her. Her heart started beating faster while her hands became clammy and her face heated up.

Julie started playing the synth-like notes on her keyboard and just before she started singing, the boys appeared with her on the stage, playing their instruments.

“Oh no, it's on tonight Here we go You're looking right, I know you know So go ahead and let it go, go, go, go”

Julie’s eyes locked on y/n’s as she came out from behind her keyboard and made her way towards the middle of the stage.

“You're shining like a star I wanna be where you are, are Oh no, oh no Let's take over this club You're shining bright in the dark, dark You light up the night”

The boys sang along with her on the chorus and got the crowd to their feet to dance.

“You wanna wil' out, then wil' out All eyes on you It's going down, down, right now You can't lose You wanna wil' out, then wil' out That's what you do Talk of the town now And you already know that you're a star A superstar That you're a star, a superstar That you're a star, that you're a star, a superstar And you already know”

Luke then took over the singing, looking at Julie as he did. She was dancing around the stage, interacting with the others or the crowd.

“It's time, I love this feeling Can we rewind To the beginning of this crazy night So, baby, we can let it go, go, go Hey-ey-ey”

Julie’s voice chimed through the speakers then, her eyes locking with Luke’s as they did.

“You're shining like a star I wanna be where you are, are Oh no, oh no Let's take over this club You're shining bright in the dark You light up the night”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride welling up inside her, mixed with a rush of jealousy. She realized she wanted Julie to look at her the way she was looking at Luke.

The music slowed down as Reggie worked Julie’s keyboard whilst she sang the bridge to y/n. It almost seemed as though the entire crowd vanished and it was just Julie and y/n in there.

“Forget the moon, ignore the sky 'Cause the whole world is all yours tonight Get it girl, it's your time Shine until the morning light The light The morning light 'Cause you're a star A superstar”

They picked up the pace again and as Julie threw her fist in the air on the high note, y/n mimicked her, a bright smile lighting up her entire face. A smile the neighborhood had never been graced with, but Julie had.

As the crowd roared and the boys vanished after having taken their bows, Julie rushed off the stage towards y/n, who was already running up to her. They met in the middle of the room, wrapping their arms around one another.

“That was magical!” y/n whispered as she burried her face into Julie’s soft curls. They smelled of violets and honey, she noticed.

“I meant every word of it.”

“You did?”

Julie pulled away from the hug and let her hands glide down from her shoulders to her hands, intertwining their fingers together as she spoke. “Of course. Y/N, you are so special and so freaking talented, seriously. I see how you shine on that dancefloor the other night or even when you’re playing the piano. I hate to see you hide all that talent away. I don’t know who snuffed out your light, but what I do know is that you are a superstar that can shine so brightly if only she surrounded herself by the right people, if only she let herself shine.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what this girl had done to her, but she felt changed. She felt as though she could conquer an entire world. As though she could conquer her abusive parents. She felt like a superstar.

JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @alexpjoyner @n0wornever @kaitieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading @happinessinthedarkesttimes @pxperphxntom @crybabyddl @happinessinthedarkesttimes

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp #jatp x btr #jatp x btr week #jatp x btr crossover #julie molina #julie x reader #madison reyes #tw abusive parents

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

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Eternal Love ~ Diavolo x Reader

Today was supposed to be just an ordinary day of school, until I was informed by Lucifer that Diavolo wants me to attend the council meeting as well, so who am I to deny such a gracious invitation?

Apparently, we were supposed to discuss the plans for the school’s festival, and they picked me to be the leader, which should be pretty fun!

“That sounds like fun! Thank you for trusting me with something as big as this! But...What do I have to do? Is there anything fixed already, or do we brainstorm and come up with the most exciting thing?” I asked, giving the prince a cat-like smile of excitement. “We change ideas yearly, so I’d like to hear all your thoughts and ideas that come into your mind.” Diavolo asked us, which made us all ponder.

After discussing the official problems, like budget, what each class wanted to do, if there were any problems, or two classes who wanted to do the same things, any objections, we started coming up with ideas.

“How about a band? I’ve seen you during Karaoke nights, and Asmo’s voice is amazing! Besides, you’re all thousands of years old, I’m sure all of you know how to play at least one instrument. And Levi, if you don’t want to take this as a Guitar Hero type of game, and are too socially anxious, you can make the band’s costumes!” I suggest, which made the brothers talk between themselves. “I wanna be the vocalist! And we gotta sell lots of merch...How much are we gonna charge for admission?” Mammon got incredibly excited, which made Lucifer sigh and shake his head. “Well, that settles it. The idea is rejected.” he muttered, making me sigh as well. “Great...No more music...But how about a play? Doing little plays is quite a thing down there in the human world. What do you say?” I asked, snapping my fingers in realisation. “Ohh, I bet that would be fun!” Asmo chimed in, along with his brothers. “And it means we can cosplay! I’m all in!” Levi grinned in glee. “Sounds like fun! Y/N, you’ll be in charge of putting together the production.” Diavolo nodded at us, giving the approval. “That means I am allowed to come up with the play’s script? And the roles? What to do with the background, music, costumes, magic effects and all that?” my grin widened even more, as did his. “Of course! Have fun, that’s the most important thing! By the way you’re so enthusiastic, I’m sure the end result is going to be great. Do you already have an idea?” he asked, which made me nod vigorously. “Y/N, what are you going to work on first? Also, you’re going to have to give all of us an assignment.” Lucifer pointed out, but most of it got overlooked. “I’m going to write the script! I am inspired by a beautiful story from the human world, written a century ago, but only published recently. Is that okay?” I asked, trying to hold on to my excitement. “Ohhh! Is it a tragic love story, like Romeo and Juliet?” Asmo asked, jump behind me, and hugging me. “Yes, much so much better! It has romance, it has fantasy, it has adventure, it has tragedy, it has despair, it has sorrow...It has everything you can think of, all thread together in such a wholesome story!” I explain, which made Asmo take a hold of my hands, waltzing together messily. “I love it! Let’s do it! Can I be the prince charming?” he giggled, which made me stop and smirk. “I...Had something else in mind. Diavolo, do you want to be in our play?” I let out a low chuckle, which seemed to make him widen his eyes. “Of course! I would be honoured to get included in it!” he grinned, giving a mirthful laugh. “Sweet, then it’s settled! I will do my best to work on the script and give everyone their roles, come up with some music, special effects, the background decor and costume ideas. Now, you’ll have to excuse me, I have to go have a talk with Simeon.” I smirked mischievously as I skipped out of the council room, not caring about Lucifer’s protests, since I wasn’t officially dismissed.

The whole night I spent revisiting the book I had in mind that would be the influence for the script, and started writing on my laptop everything, while listening to Eurielle’s many angelic songs and sending them to Simeon, so he would know what to do.

Needless to say, I was nothing short of excited beyond borders of imagination, clearly never having expected to be able to take part in something so great, as to create and take part in a play of such caliber...There’s no way I won’t make this anything more than perfect, that’s for sure, especially since this book has been so close to my heart and soul for a long time now.

And so, days passed, Simeon agreed to be the harp player, since he’s an angel and nobody could best him, and the narrator was Solomon, who would help me and Satan with the magic effects.

I would be the female protagonist, while Diavolo would be the male protagonist. Barbatos would be the one to sacrifice his life to save Diavolo. Satan was going to be the frenzied werewolf, while Lucifer will be the enemy hound turned ally that would fight alongside Diavolo.

Belphegor will be the evil king, and Beel will play the role of his most loyal servant, while Asmodeus shall be the girl’s father, and Mammon would be one of the Gods, the Judge of the Dead, Master of Doom.

This left Luke to be one of the enemy werewolves, while Levi, who would have as few lines as possible, considering he would be too busy with the costumes, would be the owner of the Hound.

And so, we began rehearsal for the play, earning lots of praises from everyone for writing something so great in such a small amount of time, while also keeping it short, making sure nobody would forget their lines and timings by mistake.

“You’re doing very well, Diavolo! But try to be a little less stiff, okay? Try to relax, it will make things more natural.” I started massaging his shoulders as soon as I gave everyone a little break. “Sorry, I guess I’m a bit intimidated since you are a natural at this.” he chuckled lightly, offering me a thankful smile. “Hmm...I wouldn’t say I’m a natural, per se, but I read the original book a few times before, and I wrote the script. Or maybe it’s because I’m a human...I don’t know, it’s always been easy for me to act.” I shrugged, dragging a chair to sit in front of him. “That much is obvious. Look at them, you inspire all of them to learn their lines and come up with the best version of themselves. It’s very rare when I see everyone working together so diligently...Thank you for you effort, Y/N.” Diavolo took ahold of my hands, squeezing them lightly. “No need to thank me, Dia...I’ve always dreamt of doing something like this, but I never really had an opportunity to do anything more than 1 minute skits. This is a dream come true...So really, I should be the one thanking you instead.” I chuckled, tilting my head slightly. “I’m glad to hear that, then. There is no doubt in my mind that the festival is going to have more success than it ever has before.” he grinned, making him look something like a Golden Retriever puppy. “And you don’t even know about my Trump Card. Well, in truth, nobody really does...Except for Simeon, but I have a reason to that, so you better be eager and awaiting for that.” I winked at him playfully, which seemed to get him in an even more curious and cheerful mood. “I certainly can’t wait until we perform on stage.” he nodded, making me take a deep breath and smile softly. “Yeah...Me too.”

I said that, and yet, time sure flies so fast that I barely realised today was the day of the play, and Asmo and Levi were helping me into my costume, doing my hair and make up, while the others were in their demon forms - Except for Diavolo, of course - and so, we went backstage, checking that the lights were perfect, the background decor was in check, Solomon had his lines written down, since he will be backstage, yet his voice will resound throughout the room regardless.

“Is everyone ready?” I clapped my hands together, grinning and biting my lip, trying to keep my nervousness in check. “I’m a nervous wreck!” Levi whined, and yet, he was thankful he didn’t have to do too much on stage. “I can’t wait to get up on stage and SHINE!” Asmo chimed in, pushing Levi to the side. “Diavolo...Are YOU ready? You are the protagonist, after all. You have the most lines, the most interactions with everyone and so on.” I look at him with a gentle smile. “Y/N, Diavolo has been doing public speeches for centuries and longer, I doubt he’d be as anxious as others are...Or you, that is.” Lucifer gave a side smirk. “Don’t speak for others, Luce~!” I thrilled playfully, earning nothing more than an amused scoff. “I am more excited, than nervous, but Lucifer isn’t wrong.” the prince chuckled softly, giving me a nod of thanks. “Very well, then, the play is going to start now. Solomon, Simeon, it’s your cue.” Lucifer pointed out as Levi and Satan raised the curtains just as Diavolo got on the stage, and was surrounded by fire and some magic-made enemies.

Diavolo’s make up made him look as if he had been fighting long and bravely, and yet, he and his army lost, his father was defeated by the enemies, and now, he was trying his best to escape with his life.

“Diavolo, the son of the Leader of Men, was the sole survivor of the attack from the Dark Lord, the feared Belphegor, the once God of Valar, who turned evil and stole the Sacred Jewels, the ones who gave immense power to Elves, the pure Silmarils, and so, he was able to easily wipe out every village of men, dwarves, dunedain, trents and elves alike, with no such thing as discrimination. And so, the brave Diavolo ran away from the place he once called home, that was now nothing more than fire, ruin and ashes flowing in the sky, and found himself in another place altogether. It was the realm of Elves, the most beautiful and gracious beings alive, and here, in Doriath, he ended up in a glade, filled with so many colourful flowers, illuminated by the silver light of Mother Moon...And there he saw her.” Solomon narrated the story, and then stopped for a few seconds, allowing him, Satan and myself to mutter some spells so the background will change, along with the holograms and the lights.

There was nothing more than darkness, for just a split second, which allowed me to jump up on the stage, and thus, a gentle light appeared, with me in the spotlight, as I did a small dance, while surrounded by holographic forest critters and a unicorn.

“There, his eyes found her, a maiden more fair than any he has seen before, and he was unsure whether he was being cheated by some spell, or if what he was seeing was reality, for the pain he felt was no more...And he was wondering whether seeing her cured if of all wounds. Blue was her raiment, as the unclouded heaven, but her eyes were grey, as the starlit evening; her mantle was sewn with golden flowers, but her hair was dark as the shadows of twilight. As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness ; and in her face was a shining light...And so, Diavolo fell in love with the Elleth dancing in front of him.” Solomon continued the story, which was my cue to stop dancing.

“What is this I am seeing? A mortal ranger, wounded, seeking refuge in Doriath, the Realm of Elves? You must be rather bold, are you not?” I stopped dancing, and approached him, circling and interrogating him. “I had nowhere else to go, My Lady, for the Dark Lord, Belphegor, has laid waste to my home and my family. I am the sole survivor, yet my heart burns with sorrow and need to wreak vengeance upon the enemy who took my father’s life so cruelly.” he explained, regaining his senses and breath. “I see...So Belphegor has started his rampaging once again...It truly is a pity that life cannot be without death inflicted before its time. Very well, then...I shall welcome you in my home, so you can feed yourself and have your wounds treated.” I nodded at him, motioning for him to follow me, only for him to stop me with his questioning. “My Lady...May I know the name of the fairest elleth in the world?” he asked with such a gentle and sweet tone, that it made my heart skip a few beats. “My name...Is Luthien.” I answered, looking down for a few seconds, before turning away once again. “Y/N...Y/N...Such a beautiful name, for such a beautiful woman...And your voice rivals any nightingale. You are a wonder among wonders.” he spoke out, making me widen my eyes and blush, flustered, turning around to face him properly. “You should not speak such sweet words without telling your name first, stranger. It would be nothing less than disrespectful, especially should my father be informed of this folly of yours.” I spoke a bit harshly, yet the jesting tone was obvious in my voice. “My name is Diavolo, my dear, and from the moment I laid my eyes upon you, I fell in love with you. You will have to forgive me for being so bold and rash with my words, I am but a simple mortal man, yet my heart will know no more joy unless you know my feelings for you.” he spoke, kneeling in front of me, which took a lot of effort not to blush more than I already was. “Raise up, brave warrior, and let me heal your wounds, both the flesh ones, and the ones your heart felt so far, for I seem to share the same feelings as you do.” as so, I put my hands over his, and humming a little song, I made a spell to remove the dirt and make up from him, so it would look as if his he had his wounds treated.

The lights went down once again, the background changed to that of a kingdom, and Asmo, wearing a crown, as he was the Elven King, sitting on a throne, and of course, he was shining, beautiful, glorious, just as he always is.

“You think you are worthy of my daughter’s heart? How foolish! You, nothing more than a mere human, whose life is hanging by the thin thread of a spider that could be so easily severed, even by something as insignificant as an illness? I commend you for your braveness, so I would not say, foolishness! I shall allow you to stay here, but you are a mortal, and your place is not here, among the elves!” Asmo’s voice was serious and booming, which was something not many would expect from someone as soft and adorable as him. “My Lord...With all due respect, but my heart belongs to your daughter, and no power in this world is strong enough to erase my love for her. I beg of you, Lord Asmodeus, allow me to marry your darling Tinuviel, and if you need me to prove my worth, give me any task, and it shall be done!” Diavolo kneeled in front of the throne of the lord, who frowned in displeasure. “Tinuviel...? Now you went as far as to give my daughter the nickname of a Nightingale...You heard her angelic voice...You are truly undeserving!” he leaned forwards in the throne, slamming his fist on one of the armrests. “Father, please, hear him out! His love for him is as true as the beauty of the stars, and so is mine for him! You will doom me to an eternal life of sorrow, should you not accept him, so father, please be reasonable!” I fell to his feet, hugging his legs, and I was sure Asmo’s face softened with conflict, as he put his hand on my head, as a way to make me raise my gaze. “My daughter...You, an immortal, fell for someone who will die before you can even realise you were courting him. However, if you are so sure of your own feelings for him, then I shall give him a task, to prove himself worthy of you, my darling. Listen carefully, Diavolo, for I will only say it once - Should you succeed in getting back at least one of the Sacred Jewels, I will allow you to wed my wife.” he spoke, which made me jolt to my feet in an instant. “But father...! The Three Silmarils were all stolen by the Dark Lord Belphegor, the very foe who destroyed his family and village! You are dooming him to sure death!” I gasped, letting a few tears fall down my face. “If that means I will be allowed to marry you, then I will do anything you wish me to. I thank thee for this opportunity, and I shall depart at morn, at the earliest hour.” Diavolo nodded, sharing a look with Asmodeus, which made me throw myself at the man. “No, Diavolo, don’t go! You will perish, if not by the Dark Belphegor, but by his lackey, Sauron, or one of the countless orcs he’s making! You cannot succeed...Not on your own!” my eyes were wide with fear, and he only smiled softly, kissing my forehead gingerly. “Have faith in my, my darling nightingale, for I shall return to you, no matter what. I vow on my pride as a human, so wait for me, and if I shall not return, I beg of you to sing me a wonderful requiem, but not to mourn for me. I love you, Y/N.” he spoke, before leaving off the stage, and so, the lights went off once more.

The stage became now an elvish stronghold in the middle of a wasteland, where Diavolo met Barbatos, Leviathan, Lucifer and a few more generic elf-holograms, and they talked about how to get inside the enemy’s garrison.

“And so, Diavolo arrived in the wasteland, the territory of the enemy, only to stumble upon an elvish stronghold, where he met Barbatos, another Elven King, Leviathan, one of the sons of the Elven Lord who once created the Silmarils, and his loyal Hound, Lucifer, the most powerful Hound, dating from the First Ages. Prophecy has it that only the most powerful werewolf could ever defeat Lucifer, so Leviathan knew that he could trust his companion. While Lord Barbatos agreed to join Diavolo’s cause, as he once swore an oath to Diavolo’s father, to aid his kin if in need, so they took a few warriors and went to the enemy territory disguised as nasty orcs. Leviathan, however, was very much against their quest, as he believed the Silmarils belong to him, legacy from his father, so he took Lucifer and went after them.” the white haired wizard spoke out, letting the scene unfold before him.

“Are you with me, brothers? I will be honest, my quest is a selfish one, and by taking the Jewel, I will be allowed by Asmodeus, the Elven King, to marry his daughter, the fairest maiden to exist. However, I am sure that no matter what, as soon as the Jewels are out of Belphegor’s posession, the world will have less peril and ruin.” Diavolo spoke out, which seemed to impress the Elven King. “As per the oath I swore to your father long ago, when we first fought side by side in wars, I shall aid you in any quest you will find yourself, young Diavolo. To hear that my old and dear friend met his doom by the hands of the Belphegor’s lackeys is nothing short than an insult! I am with you.” Barbatos spoke out, patting Diavolo on the shoulder and taking a few trusted men by his side. “You cannot take the Silmarils from the Dark Lord, Diavolo, no matter with how many men you march to his garrison. The Silmarils belong to my family, for my father forged them, and they gave power to the Two Sacred Trees of Valar! You have no right to take them, no matter the affections your mortal heart holds for some elleth you don’t deserve!” Leviathan frowned, at them, but Diavolo didn’t heed any of his warnings. “I am sorry, Leviathan, but this must be done. I shall not allow Belphegor to wipe more innocent lives from Arda, out Earth!” Diavolo spoke with much confidence, fire and conviction, leaving the place, while also igniting a fighting spirit in his men. “Not fair...That’s not fair! How could they even think of doing something like that?! Lucifer...We must stop them at all cost! And did you hear that? That stupid, wretched human wants the hand of the daughter of King Asmodeus! Ha, as if! But imagine...If we take the Silmarils, and I give the King only one, without him knowing that I possess the other two, he will surely let me wed Y/N, and we will create a strong alliance this way! Everyone will bow down to me, the Mighty Leviathan!” he chuckled darkly, motioning for Lucifer to join him as they ran away after Diavolo’s party.

“What nobody was aware of, however, was that Y/N, afraid for her paramour’s fate, fled from home in search of Diavolo, to aid in the task he was given - And yet, just as she arrived on the enemy’s territory, she was found by Lucifer’s keen sense of smell, which allowed his owner to kidnap her and imprison her in a tower, guarded by Luke, one of the most powerful werewolves in Beelzebub’s army. As she was left alone, in a cell, she pleaded to Lucifer to let her escape, and it seems he, for once in his long life, felt pity for the elleth, and decided to aid her.” Solomon continued the story, and so, the stage changed to the prison tower I was held captive in, with Luke, dressed very uncharacteristically evil, was guarding me, and Lucifer’s eyes bore straight into my soul.

“Why would one, so strong and great as yourself, aid the cause of evil? Leviathan, a once proud elf of benevolent will...His heart became darker than the nightly abyss. Look at what he is doing - Trying to cheat my father, to deceive him, only for his own selfish desire to quench his thirst for power. He is miserable, that one, but he is more pitiful than ever. I wonder, my poor Diavolo...Have you seen him? Is he still alive and well? Oh, how I miss him so, and fear for his life, for he is fragile, and brittle, nothing more than a human resembling the first Snowdrop of Spring. May the great Eru Illuvatar watch over him, for I cannot but mourn and sing for his glory the way I am now.” I grabbed the bars of the cells, letting tears fall down my face as soft sobs escaped my throat. “Tell me, Y/N...” Lucifer spoke, for the first time in ages, as he crouched down to my level, and said, in a softer voice, as to not alarm the enemy. “Are you willing to do anything to save your beloved mortal? You speak of my master’s pitiful state, and yet, you do not see yourself and the misery in which you wallow as we speak. I can sense your magic is strong, and you could aid the one you hold so dear to yourself. Should you lend me your power, I will be able to properly defeat your enemies and help your reunite with him. Will you accept me, Elleth Princess?” his voice was velvety, as with one hand he raised my chin up, to look into my glistering eyes. “Yes.” was the only answer I gave him, as he raised with a smirk, piercing poor Luke with his glare.

Muttering a spell, I proceeded in putting a protective shield around Lucifer, that grated an improvement in his powers, and so, he was easily able to take down Luke. However, sensing danger, Beelzebub, the Dark Lord’s most powerful vassal, came forth to attack him, in the form of a werewolf, knowing the prophecy, the only way of defeating the Great Hound Lucifer.

But it was in vain, for my power, combined with Lucifer’s, meant for nothing short of greatness, and so, we were able to defeat him.

“Beelzebub, you have been defeated, and so, you must free all the prisoners you have taken! There is nothing more for you to do, except to obey!” my voice was firm, and clear, and with a growl from the defeated lord, he begrudgingly freed the prisoners, before he became one himself. “You will not escape this place with your lives still your own, you silly elleth! You think anyone can defeat the Dark Lord? Never! Belphegor is undefeated!” Beel’s dark, booming voice echoed throughout the dark prison tower. “We seek not to defeat him, but deprive him of most of his power. And we will succeed, without question, nor fail.” I spoke with grace, sure of myself, until Lucifer guided me away from the cell. “Maiden, you must flee. Enemies are making their way here. Take this passageway and be reunited with your lover. I will make sure not even one of these disgusting orcs may come and hinder your path.” Lucifer said, staying on high alert. “I will eternally be grateful for your aid, Lucifer. I wish to see you soon, and well.” I nodded at him, running away, and the scene cut with Lucifer getting ready to fight some holograms, while Beel was able to flee by transforming into a fly and getting out through the barred window.

“But not everything turned out as great on Diavolo’s side, as he, too, was ambushed by enemies, and his whole little army was taken captive, and executed one by one, until only Diavolo himself, and King Barbatos remained. Enraged by this folly, just as the human was about to get mangled by the great werewolf executing them, the Elven King managed to break the shackles and wrestled the beast with all his might, until both of them perished, and thus, successfully completing the vow he swore to his father.” Solomon continued on the narration, as the stage showed, for just a little bit, the heroic act of Barbatos sacrificing himself, allowing Diavolo to escape with his life.

“Go, and complete the task you set yourself on! Be successful, and reunite with your lover once more. There may came a day when you will die, but I assure you, today is not that day. I have already foreseen your greatness.” were the Elf’s last words, as Diavolo thanked him, and the scene was cut once again, to where I and Diavolo are reunited at the gates of the throne room.

“Diavolo, my darling, you are alive! I prayed and prayed for the great Eru Illuvatar to shine his light upon you and protect you from harm...And here you are, alive, and in my arms once more! I cannot but weep in joy, seeing you before me, my beloved Diavolo!” I cupped his face, examining him for any wound, before kissing his face, not caring that the height difference was making it pretty difficult. “Y/N...! My beautiful nightingale, what fareth thou in this terrible place? You should be safe, at home, with your father, not on this plagued wasteland of death, in the heart of the very enemy we fear the most!” he was shocked, and afraid for my well-being, but before I could reply, a long tail swept him away from my embrace, throwing him to the ground, and the enemy was revealed none other than Leviathan, who wore an evil smirk on his face, looking down at the mortal. “You...! How dare you do such a thing! First, you imprison me, wanting to use me for my father’s power and title, and now, you try to destroy the one being I love the most in this life? Unforgivable! You will never be welcomed back to Valinor, not matter how much you beg and grovel on your knees!” I threatened him, but he only seemed to laugh mockingly. “How adorable of you, some weak elleth, to think that you could come between me and my aspirations. You truly believed some mortal would be able to take the great Silmarils, feat that so many armies of Elves failed to do? You have lost your mind, Y/N! But here, with his death, you will have no more reason to be here. I heard your voice is truly magical...If your voice was to put to sleep the whole place, stealing the Silmarils would be an easy feat, and so, I will be the most powerful an Elf can get!” Levi spoke out, his long tail swishing left and right, as I ran to Diavolo, holding him to my chest as I healed his wounds...Only to notice a figure rushing towards us, and it was now my turn to smirk, as the enemy was trampled to the ground, easily destroyed. “Lucifer, you have returned so fast! The enemies proved to be no match for your might, did they?” I grinned brightly at him, as he only scoffed in amusement. “And your paramour seems to be doing great now that you’ve healed him. It seems that my former master became driven by evil more than I anticipated...It truly is a pity that he turned this way, but there was no way to live the way he did.” Lucifer spoke, and so, the place went dark, so the stage would change to Belphegor’s throne room, him, wearing a crown.

Taking a deep breath, I started singing a spell, just as Leviathan previously suggested, which put to sleep every living being in the place, and so, Diavolo was able to cut away one of the Jewels from his crown. He continued with the second one, but misfortune seemed to follow us, as a little piece from the crown fell on the Dark One’s face, waking him up from his slumber.

“You...! You, puny worms, truly think you could defeat me? Steal away the Silmarils from my possession, and walk away, unscathed?! How impertinent of you! You shall be tortured for an eternity, and even longer than that!” Belphie’s growl resounded through the place with an even graver tone, thanks to Solomon’s magic.

Diavolo took my hand, and we started running, the light flashing, to make it look as if we were going for a longer pace, until we arrived at the gates, guarded by none other than Satan, a werewolf bred specifically to kill Lucifer, to complete the long-foreseen prophecy.

“Satan attacked Diavolo, and before he, or Lucifer, could retaliate, Satan bit off the hand that was gripping the Jewel tightly. As Diavolo ell to the ground, gripping his hand and wailing in agony, the purity of the jewel emanated a strong light in the werewolf’s belly, which set him on a frenzy. He was berserk, clearly lost his mind, and there was nothing that anybody could do to reverse the process. This feat of luck, however, allowed the maiden to call out to the mighty Eagles, who flew them back home. Together, they spoke the tale of their adventure to King Asmodeus whose heart softened by everything they have been through, and despite not completing the task, allowed the two lovers to marry.” the sorcerer spoke the tale, that seemed to be the happy end...

The scene cut to just a few weeks later, the background showing the Kingdom getting destroyed by the Werewolf Satan, and Diavolo and Lucifer going to bravely destroy it, but unfortunately, the triad ended up perishing altogether.

“The story that was fated to have a happy ending, became drenched in blood, as both her beloved Diavolo, and her trusted companion, Lucifer, died together to prevent the rampaging Satan from destroying anything more in his path. The girl, who was waiting by her father’s side, was worried beyond belief, as her father embraced her, trying to sooth her concerns, as Diavolo was a strong human, and had Lucifer by his side... But not long afterwards, a ravaged Diavolo, barely dragging himself upwards, grabbed Asmodeus’s hand, putting the Sacred Jewel that he extracted from the Werewolf’s belly.” Solomon continued the story, as the music turned even graver.

“No...No...! Diavolo, my darling, hang on, please, I will heal you! You cannot die! You cannot leave me like this...After everything we went through! We weren’t even given the time to marry...!” I sobbed, holding Diavolo’s body to my chest. “My beautiful Y/N, all I did, was for you, and now, I am truly worthy of even daring to ask you to marry me. It is selfish, I am aware, but I am but a mere mortal, and thus, as my life ends, I ask you to please hold me in your heart and memory, as dear as I hold you. I love you, Y/N” he spoke with his last breath, before going limp in my arms. “Y/N, my sweetling, I’m so sorry this happened...” Asmodeus knew no words were going to stop my wailing, take away my sorrow, or mend my irredeemably broken heart, and only held me, as I screamed to the sky, cursing fate, and the Illuvatar, the stars, the moon and the sun. I cursed everything in existence, even time, for taking away the one I loved the most, until the scene was cut by the lights, and we could hear the audience gasping, some of them lightly weeping, some even cursing as well and telling their pity.

“There was nothing more her father could do to bring back the joy in his darling daughter’s life, and with his heart broken, just like hers, he allowed her to leave his home, and watched her walk away, to the Halls of Mammon, until he could see her no more, and the horizon was overshadowing her unseeable form. So, she arrived at the Halls of Mammon, the Judge of Death, the one who was stoic and unmovable in front of everyone, never wavering from his judgement of anyone’s souls. The walls were covered by tapestries woven by his wife, depicting life as it is, from the beginning of times, until the present. Y/N laid on the ground, singing the song of her ill fate, of how she will never be able to meet her beloved once more, not even to properly say goodbye to him, feat that would break her heart even more.” the scene revealed only myself, in the Halls of Mammon, in front of the stairs to his throne, as Simeon’s harp started slowly mellowing everybody’s senses, giving them a sense of amplified sorrow, as if the play so far didn’t already play with their heartstrings.

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“Oh great Mammon High among Valar I come to you in sorrow And with a broken heart Long has been my journey That led me to these halls But now I kneel before thee As grief my spirit calls I seek a man named Diavolo Whom I bid await me here I pledged that I would find him Before he leaves this sphere This man of whom I speak He gave his life for me But thence my soul grew weak And at last it too broke free So borne upon an urgent breeze I travelled to this place Where only one thing could appease The torment I now face Oh tell me I am not too late To see my love once more For that would be too cruel a fate I beg him be restored That we may take a little time To bid our last farewell And remember all we shared erstwhile Such joy no one could quell For never was a greater love Than that within our hearts Once born, forever binding us E’en though through death we part”

My voice was powerful, mournful, my face wet from the river of tears streaming my cheeks, and I am sure I shocked all the demons present, for sans a few basic, simple songs, I never showed them my skill in singing, nor that my voice was, as Simeon described it, pretty angelic, so adding the harp was nothing short of heavenly.

The scene ended with me, dying, as I laid on the stairs of the throne, and through the silence, as the lights were slowly dimming, I could hear Mammon sniffing and trying his best not to sob.

“I cannot let this be the end of you and your fateful love story. With the power that has been bestowed upon me, I shall change this dreadful fate, into one more wonderful, as you deserve. You have fought and braved such a storm to be together, and death will not be the place of your eternity.” Mammon spoke, his voice wavering, barely able to keep himself straight.

“The Great Mammon, for the first time in his eternal life, felt his heart moved by the elleth’s song, feeling pity for the fate of the two lovers, so ruthlessly torn apart, so he allowed himself a tiny bit of self-indulgence, for as soon as the fair maiden’s life ended, from her broken heart, he restored both her and Diavolo’s life, yet this time, he awarded her mortality, so she would be able to live her whole life together with him, in happiness, as they deserved.” Solomon’s words were the cue for the scene to change back again, to the glade where he first laid his eyes upon me, and we were embraced in each other’s arms, gazing at each other with love.

“Why ever would you give up your immortality, my darling Tinuviel? You were immortal, had the time on your side, and your father, and people, there for you. I do not understand, my sweetling, so please explain to me.” he asked, looking down at me, brushing away a strand of hair from my face. “I would rather spend one short life time with you, then be teased with a few years by your side, that would pass for me similar to blinking, and then realising that you are in my life no more. Life without you is meaningless, my beloved Diavolo. I love you, and this time, an untimely death is not going to keep me away from letting you know my feelings loud and clear.” I spoke out in a soft voice, getting on my tip toes and pulling him into a loving kiss, which he reciprocated. “I will love you forever, with all my heart, my beautiful Y/N.” he said, as so, the curtains were closed, indicating that the play was over.

The audience started cheering, whistling and clapping loudly, as I motioned for everyone to come on stage so we could give the final courtesy to them, as a thank you for watching our play.

As we got off the stage, Asmo jumped on me, kissing my cheeks, and continuously praising me for how amazing I was. “You, my darling, were truly the star of the play! Why did you never tell me you had such an angelic voice?! Honestly, we should definitely go to karaoke and have you sing more!” “Sure, Y/N’s voice was a shocking surprise for everyone, but we have to applaud how amazing Lord Diavolo’s performance was as well, don’t you think?” Lucifer mused, earning an agreement from the butler. “And let’s not forget that Levi’s costumes were absolutely amazing. And the magic was amazing.” I pointed out, clapping for everyone. “Everyone was completely awesome today. Thank you for doing your absolute best...You managed to make my dream come true, and I’m very happy.”

And so, we all changed into our comfortable clothes, and went to celebrate at Diavolo’s castle, drinking and eating things we ordered from Hell’s Kitchen, setting off some fireworks, doing karaoke and all that...

But for some reason, I was feeling rather...Off, so I went out in the garden, taking a nice and relaxing stroll through the flower-guarded path, until I reached a nice gazebo by a pond and I sat down on the grass, dipping my feet in the cool water, looking up at the moon and letting my thoughts wander.

I wasn’t sure for how long I was there, alone, until a voice woke me up from my trance, and Diavolo sat down next to me.

“It’s not safe for a human to go wandering carefree in Devildom, you know?” he spoke jokingly after a few seconds of silence. “I am in your gardens, aren’t I? I find this the most dangerous, and yet, the safest place in Hell.” I let out an amused breath, which he seemed to mimick. “You wouldn’t be wrong to believe that. Why did you leave?” he asked, looking at the reflection of the silver moon’s on the mirror sheen of the water. “I needed some fresh air, I guess. And you?” I asked back, doing the same as him. “I noticed you weren’t around, so I went to look for you.” he smiled softly, leaning back a bit. “Thank you for your concern, but I am fine. Go back there and have fun. You earned it, after the amazing performance you put there. You were absolutely terrific.” I tilted my head to give him a small smile. “But there is something on your mind, isn’t it? You can talk to me, if you want and feel like it.” I tried to encourage him, as he nodded to me. “You are unbelievably perceptive for a human, aren’t you? No wonder you managed to get Lucifer’s brothers to finally get along. I was just thinking why you chose me to be the lead of the play. I wasn’t expecting that, to be fair. I thought you’d choose Lucifer, or Satan or maybe even Asmodeus...But you didn’t, and I’d like to know your reasoning.” he asked, his voice going softer with each sentence he spoke. “...I wonder if anyone noticed how lonely you are. You try so hard to have the brothers, and others, forget that you are a Prince, and act with you normally, to include you in their activities, so chat with you leisurely...And yet, they all get intimidated by your status. I know what it’s like to be an outcast, and it’s the last thing I’d want you to feel like. I know you like to have fun, so I thought that maybe, for once, you would have enjoyed playing the mortal, while I am the immortal one.” I chuckled softly, hugging my knees, I was met with more seconds of silence. “I was right when I said you would be an amazing influence on us. You are right in everything you said. I’m grateful. If I think about it, it has been a long while since anyone said such nice things about me, without wanting to gain something...Especially since I am a demon. The Demon Prince, nonetheless.” he explained, making me sigh, shifting my gaze to the moon. “I...Well...I think I drank a bit too much champagne, so I guess telling you this won’t hurt, in the long run, anyway. You don’t even have to acknowledge anything I say. Just play it off as a tipsy rant or something...But honestly...You are amazing. You are the kindest person I’ve ever met in my life. I know it’s very short compared to yours, but it’s much more meaningful and impactful to us. You have showed me nothing but kindness and understanding, lots of opportunities to have fun with events, and pranks, jokes, trips...You looked out for me all the time...Especially when Lucifer almost killed me...Which wasn’t few times, really. And you try to bring everyone together, no matter their race or ranks...You are like a big golden retriever who just wants hugs, attention and affection...And your smile and laugh is to die for. If only you’d see the way your eyes sparkle when you’re happy, or feel the warmth of your embraces and how soothing they are. I picked you for more than one reason, Diavolo, and I’m pretty sure it’s obvious now.” I chuckle lightly, not caring about the consequences of my words. “I...Am speechless. Nobody managed to stir such feelings inside me since I first saw Lucifer as an archangel, and this tops it. I cannot but thank you...But now it seems like you’re the one who has things on her mind.” he pointed out, wiping away a stray tear going down my face. “My performance on the stage was so great because those feelings of mine were genuine...But reverse. I am going to die before you even realise it, and just a little later, you’re going to forget me. There is no place for my feelings, no matter how I look at it. I’m mortal, and you’re not. I’m a simple, ordinary human, while you’re the Demon Prince. I will never even be close to being as great as you are. I’m selfish, I’m a jerk, I’m mean, I’m jealous, I’m not talented, I’m not smart, I’m not beautiful...I’m nowhere close to your level, no matter how much I try to get better. Soon, I will have to return back to the human world, and you will still be here, becoming the best Demon King the Devildom ever had...” I shook my head, smiling sadly. “How long have you felt this way?” he asked softly, putting his arm around me, pulling me close to his chest. “A long time...And it only got stronger since then.” I sighed, leaning my head on his chest. “I’m glad to hear that...Because my emotions from the stage were as true as yours. Every word I spoke up there, is true. For a while now, I have been thinking about you and how we could make this work without any of us having to suffer like Beren and Luthien from your story. You are the most unique and beautiful person I’ve met, and I don’t mean only your looks, but your personality and heart as well. I hate it when you bring yourself down and compare yourself to me, because everyone has their own traits that make them who they are.” Diavolo’s voice was gentle and heartfelt, making me raise my head to look at him, searching for the truth in his eyes. “Did you know that this story was written as a tribute to the author’s wife, whom he nicknamed Luthien? The author, Tolkien, fell in love with her when she danced and sang for him in the glade, and since then, he has been very much in love with her...Going as far as to have her nickname, Luthien, written under her name on her grave stone. If that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is.” I smiled softly, feeling my heart skipping quickly. “Humans are truly capable of the most incredible things. They never cease to amaze me, no matter how much time passes. In your short, mortal lives, you are capable of unbelievable potential and wonders. You praised me so much today, but trust me when I say it, I could go for ages complimenting you, and I wouldn’t run out of nice things to say about you. Y/N, trust me when I say it, I love you, and I promise you that your feelings are safe with me, and I won’t let you die. I know a way to make it work.” Diavolo said, putting his hands on my face, as his eyes held only love. “If you’re certain you are okay with it, and aren’t afraid of any consequences, then I can say with no fear that I love you as well, Diavolo. Endlessly.” I grin at him, chuckling lightly as he leaned in, sharing a loving kiss, yet this time, the emotions were flowing much more powerfully than on the stage.

It was true, it was pure, it was ethereal, and definitely, it was eternal.

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reidrco · 4 years

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teacher

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: draco malfoy x slytherin!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿‘𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i‘m not 100% happy with this but i hope y‘all like it anyway!! i apologise for any mistakes i made!! (the gif is not mine!)

It was still early as you sneaked out of your dormitory, the sun hadn’t woken up yet either and the sky was almost pitch-black. You checked the time on the watch around your wrist, quickening your pace as you ran down the stairs to the exit of your common room.

In five minutes you had to meet up with your classmate, Draco Malfoy, and you definitely didn’t want to be late and annoy him. The corridors were quiet and empty, which was no surprise considering that nobody woke up at 4am on a school day. You didn’t like it either, but before breakfast started was the only time Draco and you both weren’t busy with homework or Quidditch training.

You tiptoed your way to the direction of the room of requirement, trying to be quiet but also quick. Draco had probably arrived already, but he had promised to wait in front of the room so you could get inside together.

The reason for your meeting was slightly embarrassing. The Yule Ball was right around the corner, but you had no idea how to dance. Professor Snape had noticed your weakness too and told his favorite student, who was an excellent dancer too, to teach you the steps so you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself while dancing the waltz in three weeks.

Saying you were nervous was an understatement. Draco and you weren’t friends or anything, only having a conversation about potions class because you often worked on your essays together, but you still had a tiny crush on the Slytherin Prince.

Whenever he was around you, you couldn’t help but smile and feel a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, blush rising to your cheeks. Draco wasn’t known to be kind or caring towards other people, but he had always been very nice to you and even helped you with your homework sometimes. Maybe he only acted like that because you were a Slytherin and not a filthy mud-blood, but maybe he just liked you. At least you liked to imagine it.

You walked around the last corner on the seventh floor, your (y/e/c) eyes landing on the platinum-haired boy immediately. Draco turned around as he heard your footsteps approaching him, a weak smile on his lips.

“Good morning, (y/n),” he whispered, making your heart skip a beat as he said your name. You greeted him with a friendly smile, staring at his beautiful grey eyes for a little too long.

He looked gorgeous as always, his hair was slightly tousled, but compared to you his appearance was nearly perfect. You had only brushed your teeth and tried to but your hair into a high ponytail, wearing no make-up which you regretted now. You looked like a trash can next to the handsome boy.

Draco was wearing his black Slytherin robe, just like you, but it looked much better on him than on you, his tie almost perfectly adjusted around his neck and his white button-down shirt neatly tucked in his black trousers, making him look as attractive as always.

“How did you sleep?” Draco asked while walking closer to the room of requirement. You were surprised that he started a conversation, making you feel a bit nervous, but it was definitely better than uncomfortable silence.

“I didn’t get much sleep, but good, and you?” you answered while Draco pushed down the door handle and held the door open for you. You thankfully smiled at him and stepped inside the room, your dance partner following you.

The room of requirement had turned into a glamorous ballroom, the floor was made of expensive-looking white marble with golden ornaments and huge, sparkling chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling. There was a record player placed in the back of the corner of the room, which already played slow music. On top of that, a ceiling-high mirror hung on the wall in front of you. It was magical.

You looked at Draco in the mirror, trying to hold back your chuckle as you noticed how amazed he was by the beautiful, gigantic ballroom. He looked incredibly handsome this morning and the thought of being pressed against his chest in a few minutes didn’t stop your heart from skipping two or five beats either.

“A few more hours in bed wouldn’t have been bad,” he suddenly admitted before walking past you over to the record player. His words made you feel bad because you claimed all his free time, but on the other side, did nobody ever force him to help you. It had only been a suggestion from Snape and Draco had volunteered to help you.

While he probably regretted being here with you now, having to teach someone talentless how to dance at almost five in the morning, you couldn’t be happier about spending some alone time with your secret crush, but you wouldn’t tell him that. You didn’t even want to show him how excited you were, but that would probably be impossible.

“I assume that you have no idea how to dance the waltz, am I right?” he asked, unable to hide the teasing tone in his voice. Draco chuckled as you nodded your head, a faint blush rising to your cheeks as you watched him taking off his robe and putting it on the floor, rolling the sleeves of his button-down shirt up to his elbows.

“But maybe you should take your clothes off too. Dancing can be pretty exhausting, especially when you have to learn the steps first,” he suggested before turning around to stop the music. You were glad he couldn’t see your face in that moment because you probably looked as red as a tomato, not being able to ignore how ambiguous his choice of words had been.

You cleared your throat before doing what he had told you, taking off your black robe and hanging it on the door handle to prevent it from getting dirty on the floor. Draco turned around to face you again, a comfortable silence taking over as the two of you walked to the middle of the room. You wiped your sweaty hands on your black skirt, unsure what to do next.

“It’s easy once you memorise the steps,” he tried to calm you down as he noticed your shaky hands and how nervous you were. Draco hesitated for a moment before he reached out to touch your hand and placed your left one on his shoulder and took your right hand in his left one, placing his other hand on your lower back.

You stood much closer to him now, your body pressed against his chest. To avoid having to look into his grey eyes, you focused your gaze on your black shoes. You would make a fool out of yourself, only thinking about it made you want to run away.

“You have to put your left foot back first,” he explained, unable to control his chuckle as you moved your right foot, “The other one, (y/n).”

You blushed from your cheeks to the root of your hair, quickly taking a step back with your left foot. Your nervousness and the smell of Draco’s aftershave didn’t make it easier for you to concentrate.

“Now your right foot to the side and then you close the space between your feet with your left one,” he tried his best to understandingly explain the steps to you, slowly following your steps.

You looked up at him, your face suddenly unfamiliarly close to his. A smile tucked on his kissable lips and you thought you had caught him looking down to yours as well, but it happened way too fast to tell if your eyes had tricked you or not.

“And now you basically do the same thing again, but this time forwards and you start with your right foot,” you had to admit that Draco was an amazing teacher. It didn’t take you long to understand and memorise the six, simple steps. Soon, the two of you danced through the gigantic ballroom.

You had to admit that it felt really good to be so close to him, his strong arm wrapped around you and leading you through the room.

“Who’s your date for the ball?,” he suddenly asked full of curiosity, but without daring to look into your (y/e/c) eyes. Surprisingly, nobody had asked him yet and he hadn’t asked a girl either. He had thought about attending the Yule Ball with you because it would be the perfect chance to get to know you a little bit better and hold you in his arms for an entire night, but he was too scared and not confident enough to ask you.

Because Draco liked you, a lot, but he had no idea how to show you that he was interested in you and would love to spend more time with you. He couldn’t just ask his friends for advice because he was sure they would make fun of him and that was something he didn’t like. It was the first time Draco found himself thinking about a girl almost every second of every day, having the urge to see your smile every minute. It was new to him, maybe even a bit scary .

“I’m probably going alone,” your answer surprised him. He was sure that somebody had asked you already, why wouldn’t they? You were a beautiful girl, kind and caring to the people around, always wearing a smile on your face. Draco was convinced that you were the closest girl to being perfect.

“Would you like to go with me?” the words had left his mouth before he had even thought about them, causing your brain to forget the steps immediately. Just like you, Draco couldn’t believe he had already said that.

You clumsily stepped on his shoe before Draco finally stopped dancing.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologised as you noticed the dirt on the tip of his black, expensive shoes, looking up into his beautiful, grey eyes. Your heart was beating faster than ever before, your cheeks turning red again because of Draco’s intense gaze. His lips were so close to yours, you couldn’t help but think about how soft they would feel on yours.

Ever since your crush on Draco had started to develop, you had hoped to at least have a boring conversation with him once a week or maybe just sit next to him in class. You always tried your best to be around him and somehow get his attention, but not in a bothersome way. A hundred scenarios of what it would be like to be in a relationship with the young, handsome Malfoy crossed your mind every day.

And now you stood closer to him than ever before, your chest pressed against his and your lips only inches apart. On top of that, he also wanted to go to the Yule Ball with you. This had to be a dream.

“So? Would you like to... be my date?” he quietly asked again, nervously biting his bottom lip while waiting for your answer. You still hadn’t processed his words yet, but nodded slightly.

“Of course! I would love to,” you finally managed to say, a bright smile on your lips. You hoped you didn’t sound too excited, but it was hard for you to hide how happy you were.

Draco felt incredibly relieved, exhaling the air which he had kept in his lungs for the past seconds. A boyish grin appeared on his lips and you were sure you had never seen such a happy expression on him.

“But you definitely have to learn how to dance first. I don’t want you to embarrass me in front of everyone,” he chuckled as you stuck your tongue out. He was glad he had asked you, hoping the night of the Yule Ball would last forever.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x you #harry potter #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #harry potter imagine #slytherin #slytherin reader

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hopesbarnes · 4 years

Text

Black Swan (4)

Summary: Y/N used to be a Russian spy under the code name Black Swan. But that was a lifetime ago, now she’s a part-time avenger, dance teacher, surrogate sister to Natasha Romanoff, and trainer to new Shield Agents. She’s come a long way from the days of killing targets and being tortured. But when someone from her past comes around will she be able to ignore her history anymore? Or will she end up falling in love with the only man her sister ever loved?

A/N: Will be reblogged to @rogvewrites at 12 pm tomorrow. I am also taking next week off from posting bc ya girl needs a mini-break.

also! tell me thoughts and feelings abt this one:)

The two of you return from your adventure in the grocery store and unpack the car and restock the fridge together. You even make sure to organize in the way Steve likes to avoid arguing with him later. Why the spices needed to be alphabetical, you didn’t know. But you did it anyway. Better to just do it than have the same argument for the thousandth time.

“Do you maybe wanna watch another movie?” you ask as you put his precious ice cream in the freezer after he puts a note reading ‘Eat and I will kill you - Winter Soldier’ on the top of the tub.

“How about that one you mentioned at the store, Going to the Future?”, he suggests.

“Back to the Future, Bucky. It’s called Back to the Future. And you sure? It’s a trilogy and that’s a lot of time to spend with me!” you say half-joking, half-serious. He was still getting used to the tower and sitting through three movies is a lot

“I’m sure. I don’t mind spending time with you,” he admits.

“I kind of have to work on some choreography for a bit, but we can watch it later?” He nods and heads towards his room. You head towards the studio Tony constructed for you and Natasha and stretch while playing ‘Waltz of the Flower’, the song you assigned to the youngest group of girls, all aged 6-8. It would be their first ‘big girl dance’ and you had to make sure the choreography wasn’t too complicated for them to remember. It was Tuesday night now, and the girl’s class was tomorrow night. Trying to come up with a dance at the same time as teaching them was disastrous, so it’s better to come prepared and focused.

It only took an hour or so to map out formations the girls would be in, and edit the music down to the time you wanted. You planned out the first minute of the song, and couldn’t do more until you see how it looked with the girls. Nobody else was around so you decided to play some music on the speakers and free dance. You let John Mayer’s voice fill the room and put on your pointe shoes, letting the music take control. Unbeknownst to you Bucky stood outside the room and watched from the window in the door. Your fluid movements and rhythmic turns captured him, and he knew he was starting to like you more than a friend.

When you felt lighter and less stressed you stopped the music and removed the shoes. It was still pretty early so there was time to start the movie marathon. After a quick shower, you called him through Friday and arranged to meet him in the group living room.

Bucky came, ice cream in tow, and hesitantly laid against the couch. You popped a bag of popcorn and got settled in.

“So there’s three of these?” he asked and you laughed.

“Yup! We can watch the others another time though, we have time,” you said and he smiled at the idea of having time. Time to just relax, and time to relax with you. You start the movie and he stays pretty quiet until the Delorian flies. Bucky looked amazed as the car flew.

“You know Stark almost had a flying car before the war. I remember seeing it, it hovered a second or two ‘fore falling to the ground again.” he said fondly. You smiled at him, not wanting to ask any more questions in case it led to what happened to Tony’s parents. It was good that he remembered the event though. You had read all about the Stark Expo and Howard Stark’s car that floated in a time before cars even had mandatory seat belts.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for most of the movie, only adding small comments towards the movie or laughing as it played. When the movie’s credits roll, you look over to his spot on the couch to see what he thought. But instead, you see him sleeping soundly, his bowl empty and beside him on the couch. He looked peaceful, and you didn’t dare disturb that. You draped a blanket over him as the rest of the tower tricked in from their day’s activities. You shush them and send a stern look their way and they get the gist. Everyone but Steve retreats to their rooms. He points at Bucky and puts his arms out questioning but you just smile and shrug in response. He drops his things off by the wall and motions his head towards his room, silently asking you to follow.

You followed Steve to his room and plop down on his couch, ready for a lecture. It no doubt was coming, he had his ‘dad look’ on. You had no idea the topic, but he always did this when he wanted to talk about something serious. Motioned to his room, and then sat on the chair opposite the couch.

“You and Buck seem close.” he starts, forming the words hesitantly. You just nod in reply.

“I haven’t seen him this close to someone since ‘fore the war. It’s nice,” he admits. “You know I worry about him, he spent so long taking care of me. Back when I was that scrawny little asshole who didn’t stop fighting. Figured I owe it to him now. He won’t ask for help, ‘s not him.”

You nod. Boy did you know that feeling well. “It’s like me and Natalia. I took care of her when she was younger when she was naive. God, she used to think she was invincible and would get in such trouble. Never would’ve imagined it with how she is now. I mean, now I feel like she’s the mature one. Don’t get me wrong, I still have to hold her when she gets emotional, but she watches out for me more than I do for her now. The years have definitely flipped our roles.”

“Never seen her emotional, huh.” He says blinking in surprise. To Steve, she was the Widow that saved his ass one too many times. “But yeah. I guess like that. I, well, bring it up because I want to make sure you and I have the same idea when it comes to Bucky. He can’t handle getting hurt right now, it’d break him,” Steve says in an authoritarian voice. You were getting the strict girlfriends’ dad talk from him.

You laugh, “Isn’t the talk usually given to the guy not to break the girl's heart? Trust me, we’re just friends.” you sigh audibly. You didn’t want to date Bucky, even if he laughed at your jokes and looked like a good person to cuddle with. You shake the thought from your head. “Plus, I mean we can’t even date! Girls don’t date people their sisters were in love with that’d just be horr-.” You pause, realizing the word vomit that just came out.

“Shit,” You say softly.

“Shit,” Steve repeats back. He slumps back in the chair confused. “Shit is definitely right. I didn’t know Natasha was in love with Bucky. Heck, I didn’t even think they crossed paths. Wasn’t she KGB not Hydra?” he asks.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that, I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone. And she’s not in love with him now, she was when we were younger. Hydra and KGB were different sides of the same coin. They intersected at times.” You can’t believe you told Steve. What a great sister you are.

“Please promise you won’t say anything. Just try and forget I said anything,” you add on beggingly.

“So you knew him too? Before the airport?” Shit, you just accidentally opened a door to a story you hated going through.

“If you promise not to say anything, I’ll explain.”

“Deal,” he says. So you start retelling the story for the second time in two months.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan

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bunnimew · 3 years

Text

Yule Never Live This Down

Rating: G Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Relationship: Gen or Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: You can read it as Gen or Blackice, It's mostly just shenanigans, Hogwarts AU, Yule Ball, I didn't sort them so you can sort them in your heart, Jack dances with everyone Summary: For @rotgsecretsanta 2020 #45: A ROTG Hogwarts AU crossover maybe?

It's time for the Yule Ball. Anyone and everyone at Hogwarts is crowded into the Great Hall.

And they all want to dance with Jack.

On AO3 Here.

For a month the Yule Ball was all anybody at Hogwarts talked about, and now it was here.

Jack felt pretty fancy in his nice robes. They weren’t top of the line, but they looked good on him and chances were something would be torn by the end of the night so best not to invest too many galleons in them, anyway.

As if thinking it brought fate on, Jack felt himself swept up into a huge pair of arms as soon as he walked through the doors of the Great Hall.

“Jack!”

“North!” Jack cried happily. He tried to get his arms around the man who might as well be his father, but physics wasn’t on his side.

“Yes!” the man agreed and Jack laughed. “We must dance!”

Jack squirmed and North put him down, only to push him toward the dance floor. “Aren’t I supposed to dance with other students?”

North waved him off. “You can do that later. First dance with me!”

Jack shrugged and accepted it as how his night was going to start. They didn’t have to wait; the champions always had the first dance but Jack had been fashionably late (or at least he imagined it to be fashionable), so everyone was already crowding the floor. North parted the mob like only he could do and lifted Jack into his arms once more.

“Yanno,” Jack said with his arms pinned at his sides, “usually dancing implies I get to use my feet. At least a little bit.”

North grinned at him with such beaming pride and joy that Jack couldn’t even pretend to be bothered. “Nonsense! Dancing is dancing! We are on the dance floor, no?”

Jack thought about it for roughly two seconds. He was pretty sure there was a flaw in the logic, but. “I’m just gonna go with it.”

North spun him around and Jack ducked his head and prayed his robes would make it longer than ten minutes.

The song hadn’t quite ended when North finally let him go. He was confused until a flutter of color caught his eye. North bowed out of their dance and Jack spun to face Toothiana, who looked absolutely gorgeous in her gown of every color.

“Wow, you are looking magnificent,” Jack said in awe. She giggled and took his hands for a dance.

“You’re too good at flattery,” she accused. “How can I know when you’re telling the truth?”

Jack gave her his most earnest look. “I am always telling the truth when I compliment you.”

She gave him a look of her own. “Seriously, you’re dangerous.”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, that I can’t deny.”

She laughed again and they fell into something that resembled a waltz, but there was no coordination to their steps. They skipped and twirled around the dance floor to any and all quick beats, even knocked into some other couples, but if anyone minded, nobody stopped them. Jack was out of breath long before the song was over but he didn’t care. Tooth was one of the few people who could keep up with him at his fastest and he was going to enjoy every second of terrorizing the dance floor with her.

They only stopped when the music finally did, and collapsed into the nearest pair of empty chairs to grab their breath. Difficult to do, because they were still laughing so hard.

They grabbed the first drinks they saw without caring what they were and only realized after half the glasses were gone who their hydration salvation was.

Sandy set the rest of the tray on the table and sat down to join them. He conveniently had handkerchiefs for both of them and Jack had never been more convinced that Sandy was a being of pure magic than he was then. Somehow a plate of food appeared, and Jack was even more impressed.

“How do you do that, Sandy?” Jack asked. “Know just what everybody needs?”

Sandy winked and pushed another tiny sandwich toward him and Jack gave in with a roll of his eyes.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let you have your mysteries for now.” As if Jack ever had a hope of unraveling Sandy. “But I’ll figure you out, one day!” Best to keep his bravado firmly in place. He had a brand, after all.

And sure enough, just as Jack was beginning to bore sitting there at the table, Sandy grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the floor.

Their dance was smooth and easy and Jack definitely pissed less people off this time. Jack twirled Sandy, then Sandy would twirl him. He let Jack lead, which Jack appreciated, except half way through Jack realized he wasn’t the one setting the tone or the pace at all. They were dancing to Sandy’s calming beat, with little steps here, a bit of a kick there, and a slow spin that was all fluid grace.

Jack loved it. Just because it wasn’t his usual didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate taking it slow. They made it through two songs like this, before the peace inevitably had to end.

A throat cleared, and only one person cleared their throat like that.

“May I have this dance?” Bunnymund asked pointedly, holding his hand out for Jack and definitely not Sandy.

Jack had half a mind to pretend, anyway, just to piss him off. But tonight was supposed to be a fun night for everyone, so he took mercy on him and grabbed Bunnymund’s hand. “Yeah, sure. See you later, Sandy!”

Sandy pivoted on the spot and saluted with a casual grace that only he could pull off before disappearing into the crowd, which… was also something he was remarkably good at doing, come to think of it.

That’s when the war started.

Bunnymund stepped forward to lead before they even had their hands in place. Jack had been going for the lead position and nearly tripped when he had to step back. So when Bunnymund went for the lead position, Jack purposely stepped into his space to return the favor. Jack’s hand dove for Bunnymund’s back, but he caught it just in time, which happened to be exactly what Jack did to Bunnymund’s hand on the other side.

They managed to shuffle in an odd circle and at least not interrupt everybody else as they struggled and pressed against each other’s hold, each trying to lead, neither gaining an inch. They mostly staggered sideways, neither willing to step back, neither willing to give any ground. It was basically a metaphor for their entire relationship, including any and all group projects Hogwarts had ever given them. Jack really wondered why Bunnymund had decided tonight was a grand night to subject each other to this.

It was even more exhausting than dancing with Tooth, but also… a lot of fun in its own way. Jack had never claimed to be a good dancer anyway, so why not spend a whole song formally wrestling in dress robes and pretending he actually cared about leading just to piss Bunnymund off?

It was his favorite pass-time, after all.

Jack would never know if it was Toothiana or Bunnymund himself who took pity, but as the instruments quieted and the song began to change, she fluttered by in a whirl of color and stole his dance partner away.

Jack had just begun to slink off to the side of the dance floor when a voice stopped him.

“You seem to be on your own for the first time all night. Does that mean you’re free for a dance?”

Jack thought he knew that voice, but no. His ears had to be lying. Jack turned on the spot to face his newest challenger and was shocked to find it really was Pitch Black.

They didn’t have a single class together. They weren’t even in the same year! How did Pitch Black know Jack was alive, much less that he was free for a dance?

Apparently, Jack in a shocked state would agree to anything, because his hand was in Pitch’s and he was back in the middle of the dance floor again. The song was a quick one, and Jack simply adopted the same method he had with Tooth: step wherever he damn well pleased and hope it matched the music. Pitch seemed much more practiced, which was probably a good thing, because Tooth was easy to forgive, but Pitch and Jack tended to encourage grudges. If they slammed into another couple now, house points were definitely going to be lost.

The realization came slow, the same it had with Sandy. Jack wasn’t leading this dance, and he probably should have noticed that a while back, but the shock was still running through his system. They skated across the floor, somehow in time with the music and somehow in tandem with the rest of the dancers. Jack tripped and Jack slipped but the little hiccups didn’t seem to matter; he was quick enough on his feet not to fall and always hopped right back into the swing.

He was finally starting to relax and really feel the rhythm of the beat when everything stopped with a record scratch only he could hear as Pitch pulled him close and tipped him arse-over-teakettle right there on the floor.

Jack clung to Pitch’s shoulders to make sure he didn’t fall, and wondered what the fuck was happening, and when his brain would catch up.

The answer was never. Pitch set him back to rights and twirled him half a dozen more times for good measure, and when the beat was gone, so was he.

Jack stared after him until Pitch was impossible to see through the crowd of people and… hey, Pitch and Sandy had that in common. Who’da thought?

Suddenly Bunnymund and Toothiana were back at his side and Jack couldn’t quite make himself look away as he smacked a hand into Bunnymund’s chest.

“Hey,” Jack said, hearing the daze and distraction in his own voice. “Was that real?”

“Which part?” Bunnymund asked. “Getting ditched or losing your virginity on the dance floor?”

Jack spun around and smacked him much harder.

Tooth laughed and grabbed for Jack’s hands. “No, you’ve definitely just been standing here for the last six minutes fantasizing and all of us left you to it because we’re horrible friends.”

“You’re horrible friends, alright,” Jack muttered.

Just then he felt a nudge at his hip and turned to find Sandy, who winked multiple times, waggled one eyebrow, did a gesture with his hands and arms that made Jack feel uncomfortable, then smiled.

Jack shook his head and turned around. “Why do I even admit to knowing you people?”

Toothiana snorted, but Bunnymund’s laugh was louder as Jack pushed his way off the dancefloor.

“You’re all terrible people and I am going to bed!” Jack announced.

Just shy of the doors out of the Great Hall, North stopped him with two firm hands on his shoulders and the biggest, brightest smile Jack had ever seen.

“So, he is your boyfriend, yes?”

Jack fought back rolling his eyes and kept his groan internal. He was never going to live this down.

#TheBunni #rotgsecretsanta2020 #Jack Frost #nicholas st. north #Bunnymund #Toothiana #sanderson mansnoozie #Pitch Black #rise of the guardians

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the-siren-and-the-sailor · 3 years

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It is the middle of spring, and a party is in full swing at twilight. The setting sun creates a backdrop for the island where a glowing tent buzzes with music. Dancing silhouettes can be seen playing across the canvas; a husband and wife waltz, a group of women twirl in intricate patterns, and a man with hooves stamps his feet to the beat with the crowd. Every pairing imaginable is present for the festivities. Well... All except one.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this...”

“What are you, a pussy? Just help me with this.”

“Mother and Father will be so upset!”

“C’mon Enny, you know I don’t care. Now come and be my eyes already!”

Tokos is, as per usual, staring ahead blankly, with the largest, dopiest grin known to man spread across his face. His brother Enoch, on the other hand, looks around worriedly, in part for the candle they sought, but mostly for their parents.

“What’s the hold up? Your sunlight won’t stick around forever. We gotta do this, now or never!”

As much as it pains him to admit it, Enoch, too, is curious. Their parents had always told them to stay away from the island cave, the one whose caverns were said to stretch far down underground, deep beneath the sea. They had never heard of anyone going in before, and in classic adolescent fashion, decided that they would be the first (well, Tokos decided, or so Enoch likes to tell himself).

But at last, the candle is found, and Enoch’s hope of behaving properly- despite his brother, for once- quickly dwindles.

“What’s it matter to you if we have light, anyway?”

“It doesn’t. But it does to you, that’s why I timed the sunset just right, so you’d have plenty. And the candle will help you when we go further in. See how smart I am, Enny? Aren’t I a genius?”

“Alright, Tokos, I get it. Can we just go now?”

“After you, princess!”

Enoch rolls his eyes and swats his brother on the head before making his way to the entrance of the cave. It looms before them, a foreboding gap in the hill that seems for all the world like a rite of passage, just waiting to be conquered. They arrive at it’s mouth and Enoch looks to his brother for reassurance, finding the same unseeing, milky grey eyes he’s always known. Both draw in deep breaths, take one another’s hands, and take their first steps into oblivion’s maw.

Their steps are tentative at first, but they soon trek forward a little ways more, neither saying a thing. Enoch holds the candle low at his side out of a lack of need, until he realizes he isn’t anymore and is relying on it’s light alone to guide him.

“Tokos, how far would you say we’ve gone by now?”

“I dunno, further than anyone else ever has. Why?”

“There’s no more sunlight. We must’ve been on a downward slope without realizing it...”

“Well, do ya still have the candle?”

“Well, yes, but-” Enoch stops and lets go of Tokos’ hand. What was this on the wall, here? “Tokos. Tokos, I’ve found something!”

“What? What is it?” He sounds excited.

“It’s an inscription, carved into the rock. Not our language, but it is our letter system. I’ll try to read it...” Enoch struggles his way through the foreign words, doing his best to pronounce each one correctly. He slowly gets through each sentence, working his way through every word, before finally reaching the last one.

But just as soon as he finishes, a strong gust of wind blows through the cave, snuffing out the light of the candle and leaving them in complete darkness. Enoch yelps in surprise, dropping the candle and grabbing Tokos’ hand.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t you feel that wind? It smothered the flame, and now I can’t see a thing!”

“Wow, that must be so hard for you.”

“You said you needed me to be your eyes and I was!” Enoch’s voice raises in frustration. He huffs. “Now neither of us can see.”

They quiet down after their moment of alarm, both rooted in place and thinking hard. An instant passes and Tokos sniffs the air and trudges his feet in place.

“Well, I smell water up ahead, not dirt, so our backs must be facing the entrance. I also feel a bit of mud, so if we want out we’d have to go backwards until we feel dry ground again.”

“Oh, now you want to leave? You’re the one who dragged us into this in the first place. Now we might not find our way out...”

Tokos pulls his hand away from Enoch’s. “What are you talking about? I just told you a way! What, you don’t trust me?”

“No, that’s not it! Besides, even if we do get out, Mother and Father will be furious. And, they’ll know it was you who wanted to go here from the start!”

“And you who went along with me! Besides, ‘even if’? I’ve been getting around this way my whole life and now you doubt me? And anyways, name one time Mama and Papa have been cross with us.” There is now a trace of venom to Tokos’ words. “You’re just being a pussy again.”

Before Enoch can quip back, however, he is stopped by a sound from deep within the cave. Not a sudden shriek, but a low, subtle, almost faint, guttural noise. The boys stop, stand still, and hold their breaths. The noise rumbles on for a time before slowing to a halt.

“Tokos... what was that,” Enoch whispers to his brother.

“Oh, now you want me to help you? Gimme a break,” Tokos’ voice is disdainful as he whispers back.

“Tokos, what if we’re in actual danger?” Enoch’s voice is still frustrated, but now somewhat strained. “What if Father told us not to go in here because...”

The sound returns and both boys strain their ears to try and identify it’s cause and location. It sounds distinctly wet, and is accompanied by a sound like rocks splashing into water.

“Father must’ve wanted to keep us out of here for a reason... It must have something to do with the inscription. Maybe it’s a curse and we’ve summoned whatever evil it speaks of!”

“That’s stupid. If there were a curse, we would’ve heard something about it by now. Now le-”

“Exactly. Remember what the people in Mother’s stories said? Dead men tell no tales. They were trying to keep us out of here so we wouldn’t be next!”

The noise once again rumbles through the cave, followed by the sound of rushing water. Enoch gulps before continuing to speak. “Okay, well... Let’s just keep our heads and-”

“Hey, I’ve been keeping my head. You’re the one acting like a coward.”

Enoch huffs again, ignoring his brother. “We should figure out what’s going on here. I know Father has said something-”

“We need to get out of here, and I already told you how.”

“You go ahead. I’m going to figure out what’s going on.”

“You don’t know what’s in there. We have to stick together!”

“Ha! I knew it. You’re showboating. Now look who’s being the coward!”

“I’m not being a coward, I’m making sure you don’t do something stupid to screw me over while I leave.”

“All I want is to find out more, I’m not gonna do anything!”

“Yes, you will! You always do! And then your curiosity will end up getting me into more trouble!”

“Excuse me, I’m the one who gets you in trouble? Just who pressured me into going in here in the first place?”

The sound booms now, silencing them both. The boys suddenly feel freezing water touch their toes. They jump back, only to have the water rise to touch them again. But the sound once again slows to a grinding stop and the water stands still, allowing the boys to turn from their fear back to their anger.

Tokos is the first to speak, his voice icy and quiet. “They say Father murdered his brother when they were young. Maybe I should do the same to you.”

“How dare you! You insult Father and you insult me, too. No wonder he prefers me over you!”

“Mother and Father don’t play favorites and you know it!”

“They do. They began to favor me the moment they saw you but you couldn’t see them,” Enoch spits back spitefully.

“Well it’s not like I asked for this! It’s not like I asked to always be missing a piece of the world. And I certainly didn’t ask for pussies like you to keep on telling me that I need them! That I need you!”

Enoch takes a breath to shout back, but stops short. He is quickly overcome by a wave of guilt and he hangs his head. The sound thunders past them again and the water now flows up around their ankles. Enoch thinks over everything that had just been said and feels a terrible remorse. Tokos is right after all, about everything.

And they do need to leave.

The sound quiets down some after a few minutes but doesn’t go away entirely. The water continues to creep up their legs as they continue to shuffle backwards. At last Enoch lets go of his pride and speaks up.

“Alright. We’ll do it your way, okay? We’ll leave.” He almost has to shout to be heard over the sound.

Tokos hesitates for a moment before grabbing his brother’s arm and begins to pull him backwards. “Now you realize,” he grumbles after a moment.

They slowly wade their way through the now waist- deep water, speeding up their way as the water level lowers the further they go. Part way along, Enoch stops Tokos.

“What?” Tokos’ voice is testy.

Enoch hesitates. “Look, I’m... I’m sorry. I really am. I have no excuse. Will you forgive me?”

Tokos hesitates and lets go of Enoch’s arm. It seems for a moment that he is going to run off and leave Enoch behind (or follow through on his earlier threat), but instead he sighs and takes Enoch’s hand instead.

“I... I don’t know yet. Let’s just get out of here.”

And get out they did. With Tokos’ expert guidance through the dark, they eventually find their way back to the entrance of the cave. They whoop and holler under the stars before quickly shushing each other for fear that the party is still going and someone would see them.

But the party isn’t still going. In fact, the tent and everyone in it is gone, leaving only the embers of long-doused bonfire. Enoch looks around; the only life around is a few wandering goats. Nobody is in sight.

“Where’d everybody go?”

“Maybe they went back to the palace?”

The boys look up to their city across the waters, and to the palace, their home, which sat high atop everything else. They stay in place for a moment before beginning their trek across the bridge and into the capital.

Their walk is sullen and silent for a while, and they both simply listen to the sound of water dripping off their clothes. But after some time, Tokos decides to speak up.

“What did you mean by curse?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there is one, who knows? But you’re right. Father would’ve told us if something like that was going on. He’s told us about plenty of other things.”

“Yeah,” Tokos pauses. “Sorry for threatening you. And for dragging you into all this in the first place.”

“And I’m sorry for everything else. I shouldn’t have been so high and mighty, and I shouldn’t have insinuated you were less capable than everyone else, either.”

“Well. Better blind than paralyzed.”

Enoch chuckles. “Isn’t that kind of missing the point?”

Tokos laughs in return. “Maybe. And anyway, that story about Papa is a load of dung anyway.”

“Are you sure? Then why do we know about his siblings without actually knowing his siblings?”

“I dunno, they probably just live really far away.”

“That’s fair. Hey, what do you think that sound was anyway?”

“Eh, probably the Scarlet King.”

Enoch stumbles and stops. “Are you serious?"

“Oh, sure, we were both getting pretty nervous. ‘Fear alone feeds the beast,’ remember? Makes sense to me.”

“Uhh... You’re joking, right?”

“Of course I’m joking! What are you, a pussy?”

Enoch smiles. Unlike the last few times he has said it, Tokos’ voice has returned to it’s usual playful tone.

“I forgive you, by the way.”

“So do I.”

The rest of their walk is peaceful, and they talk more along the way. That is, until, the palace doors come into view and their anxieties abruptly spike.

“Well, guess we should start with the meeting room...”

They slowly make their way there, making sure to stay out of sight of the servants and the guests, all the while whispering their plans to explain themselves.

But these plans are quickly flattened as they approach the doors right as they were opened. A servant walked out and walked away, leaving the boys staring their shocked mother and father in the face. They stand like this for a moment, awkwardly shuffling in place as their parents looked at them in disbelief.

This disbelief is soon suspended as they run around the table that they and a variety of maps had been situated at. Their mother quickly sweeps them into her arms, and their father soon follows.

“Enoch! Tokos! Where have you been, are you hurt? What were you thinking!”

“No, Mama, we’re not hurt. And, I, uh, dunno. We, uh...” Tokos’ hand searches for Enoch’s hand and swats it.

Enoch takes the hint. “We, well... went in the cave.” Their parents share a look before Enoch continues. “It was Tokos’ idea to go in-”

“Hey!”

“-but I’m the one who made him stay.”

The sharing of the blame doesn’t go unnoticed.

“But you both got out safe, correct?” their father asks, eyeing their still soaked sandals and trousers.

Both boys nod, and sheepishly tell of their misadventure.

Their father sighs. “Boys, we told you not to go in there because it floods easily. That inscription you read is an old warning; it’s how we knew to keep you and everyone else out. Those sounds you heard were likely a sea wall collapsing and water rushing in.”

This makes the boys feel rather stupid.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” their mother says.

“Nah. Now are you gonna throw us a party for being back or what?” Tokos grins his classic grin.

“Actually, I was thinking something more along the lines of several restrictions,” their father says in a stern yet fond tone. The boys groan. “Now go take baths, both of you, and then it’s straight to bed.”

The boys mumble their affirmations and begin shuffling off towards their rooms.

“Boys?”

They turn around and run back into their parent’s arms. Their mother strokes their hair as their father rubs their backs.

“It’s good to have you back.”

#does it count as f/o x s/i if it's about their kids??#siblings #short story #hi Teresa! yes references to your s/i are going to become a thing now >:)#my writing #sibling scenario #📝 written in the history books 📜

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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 3 years

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Writing Prompts (Applicable to Any Fandom)

This is just a compiled list of prompts I’ve collected from Pinterest and other random places and can be used in any fandom that I write for. I have other prompt lists that get more specific. If you want to use one in a request to me, just use the following ‘Character Name and Prompt No. 35 from the Any Fandom list′ for example + some details if you’d like.

There’s quite a bit on this list, so be wary.... I mean, it’s only like 800 prompts... Also, I did not organize it due to its vast size.

Key:

‘*’ Denotes something that could be used as dialogue.

[*] Denotes a swear word that I removed.

"I don't like [NAME]. I like you."

"You're a wonderful person, never forget that."

"I'd do anything for you."

"I've been thinking about you a lot lately."

"Can you picture it? You and I together?"

"'Us'... I like the sound of that."

"You always know what to say."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Are you ever going to listen?"

"Don't leave me. Don't you dare leave me."

"I know for a [*] fact that wasn't supposed to happen."

"Sort yourself out first."

"Shh... I know."

"Tell me a story."

"My mum asked about you again."

"He already knows."

"I was doing fine. Really, and then you waltz back in like you didn't break my heart."

"You deserve so much better."

"I've never met anyone as rude and pigheaded as you. Marry me?"

"Hey, don't do that, you'll hurt yourself."

"How long has it been since you've slept?"

"You're burning up."

"No, don't cry. I hate it when you cry."

"Because nobody cares about me."

"Because I care about you."

"You look sad."

"Please, don't leave me alone."

"Oh no, you're bleeding." (Exclamation point optional I suppose, this version without seems a bit too unconcerned)

"I heard you scream. Nightmares again?"

"Hey, just look at me. Breathe."

"Hold my hand. You're going to be fine."

"You need to eat something."

"Stop telling me you're okay."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't touch me!"

"I could just use a hug."

OTP on a hammock together. Person B is asleep on Person A's chest while Person A keeps one foot on the floor so they can rock the hammock in hopes of Person B

remained asleep.

"It's really not that complicated."

"Close the door."

"I should have told you a long time ago."

"Why are you helping me?"

"You have to leave right now!"

"Just trust me."

"I've been waiting a long time."

"You're in love with him/her."

"Come here."

"We could get arrested for this."

"What are you thinking about?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"I thought you were dead."

"Was that supposed to hurt?"

"I can explain."

"Love is overrated."

"Watch me."

"I've missed this."

"I don't believe you."

"You scream like a girl." I did not scream like a girl." "Well, you sure did a high-pitched scream." "I did not scream." "Oh yeah, so what did you do?" "That was me merely trying not to have a heart attack with a little dignity."

*He was never mine, but losing him broke my heart.

*How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?

"I'm afraid you'll end up seeing me the way I see myself."

"Did you guys used to be best friends?"

"Don't ever forget me. Please."

*They lived to be the greatest.

*The world stopped breathing that night.

"You're my regret."

"Don't tell me to give up like everything is meaningless."

"I screwed up."

"I trusted you!"

"Does it ever stop hurting?" "No, you just make room for it."

"I loved them more than anything in this world, and they're dead because of me."

"Sometimes I wish I could just fall asleep and never wake up."

"I'm trying, all the time, but it's just too hard."

"It's just you. You're all alone."

"I loved them, and now I'm going to kill them."

"They can't do anything to me. I have nothing left."

"How could you do this to me? After everything we've been through?"

"I don't care about you. No one does."

"I don't have a choice--I never had."

"Why are you glaring at me?" "I'm hoping you'll spontaneously combust."

Imagine Person A of your OTP trying to secretly kiss Person B's cheek while they're asleep but Person B shifts and Person A accidentally kisses their mouth and pulls back flustered, looking down to find a wide-eyed Person B who pulls them back for a real kiss.

"I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties of your life." "You are the WORST at this comfort thing."

"Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture."

"So, that's what you are..."

"Are you flirting or starting a fight?"

"You here to finish me off, Sweetheart?"

Imagine being unexpectedly cornered by your favourite character. They tilt your chin up to make you meet their intense gaze as they press forward against you, lean in so close you can feel their hot breath on your ear, and purr, "do you have any idea what I want to do to you?"

"So where were you when this all happened?" "Where was I? Hmmm... That is a very good questions." "You're not going to tell me?" "Nope."

He knew he was hope when her lips touched his.

"Stop that!" "Stop what?" "Doing that thing with your face when you're happy. It's making me nauseous."

"So you're the guy who saved my life?"

"You found me after all this time." "Of course, I never stopped looking."

"Whatever possessed you to do that should possess you more often."

"Look, I know you don't like it. But it's time to woman up and get. This. Done."

"Don't try to shut me out of this. I've been here since Day 1. I'm more a part of this than you are."

"Take my hand." "Why?" "I'm trying to ask you to marry me, so take my damn hand!"

"Are you insane?" "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Their eyes met, and suddenly, they were alone in the crowd.

"I love you." "That's pretty stupid of you."

"Love is scary. This feeling of falling terrifies me. The only way it ends is with hitting the ground. "Not if I catch you." "You can't catch me if you're falling with me." "Darling, I started falling long before you did."

He looked at me. His hair was still a mess, and in the bright morning sunlight he looked more handsome and more human than I'd ever seen hum. "I guess I'm asking you to trust me." He said.

"We were always going to say goodbye, weren't we?" "Yeah, I think so." "I loved you though. I loved you so much." A pause. "I know, I know. I loved you too."

"Look, I know we don't know each other that well, but I'm still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone."

"Mmm... You're warm."

"If I could, I would kiss away all of your scars."

"I think I might be falling in love with you."

"Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day."

"It's not bad to cry. In fact, I think in makes a person stronger."

"You're so cute when you're half asleep like this."

"I've had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with."

"No, you can't get up! You're my prisoner for today."

"Shh, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream, okay? None of it was real."

"You know I'm/we're always here for you, right?"

"Please talk to me about it."

*I loved the woman you were before. Not this monster.

"If I'm dying, let me eat cake." "You're not dying." "Let me eat cake anyways."

"Dance with me and pretend the world doesn't exist." He pleaded. After that, there was no going back.

"Sometimes it just gets too hard to keep pretending."

"I can't help but stare."

"Why am I always the one carrying you?"

"Is there a reason your knees are shaking and your hand is squeezing like there's no tomorrow?"

"You've got a little something.... Right there.... No, there."

"And if I don't?"

"Make me."

"Can't you pretend to love me?" Just once?"

"Is that b-blood?"

"Kiss it and make it better."

"Stay by my side... Please."

"Come on, dance in the rain with me."

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on m-"

"Just shut-shut up for one minute."

"Come here." "Why?" "Just come here." "No, you're gonna hit me."

"I'm way too sober for this."

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-" "At least a twenty."

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!" "And I'm trying to subtly avoid it!"

"Did you just... Agree with me?" "Oh, I wish I could--" "Nope! You said it! No take-backs!"

"Don't breathe on that, it's expensive."

"I regret a lot of things. Having this conversation tops the list."

"You have to listen to reason!" "But reason is boring!"

*I want to make her mine.

"That's not a happy story." "Well, I don't live a happy life."

"Is that blood?" "No?" "That's not a question you're supposed to answer with another question."

"Are you sure I can't punch him in the face?" "Yes." "What if I just break his nose a little?"

"You're okay, right?" You're not hurt?" "No, no, no, I'm fine. Totally fine, no, no, I'm fine." "Really? Because you are repeating your words, you look pale, and you look like you're about to topple over." "Yeah, you might wanna catch me."

"I love you." "Lying isn't a good look for you."

"Damn right I'm pretty." "I said petty."

The kidnapped [something] replies, "but I don't want to be saved."

"Your hair is so soft..."

"You're so cute when you pout like that."

"Just relax, I'll wash your hair for you."

"What, does that feel good?"

"HA! I found a weak spot on you, didn't I?"

"You are ridiculously comfortable..."

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

"I'm in a mood to make some bad life choices!" "Don't sound so excited about it."

"But do you REALLY want your heart back?"

"This is the third time I've been kidnapped this week. It's getting old."

He would never forget that smell.

Dirt and leaves tangled in my hair as he/she pushed me to the ground. He/She pressed his/her hand over my mouth and whispered, "hush or they'll hear you."

"Take your mask off when you speak to me."

He was flirting with every woman in the room, until he saw her.

"Right now, I don't know if I want to kiss you, or shove you off a bridge." "Can I pick?"

*My heart and this world don't fit each other.

*I knew if I ever saw him again, I'd never leave.

"Why do you have scars there?"

"I will never regret loving you."

"I hate you." "Why? I'm lovely."

"Do we need wine?" "No, I need wine, you need to put your pants back on." "But life is so freeing without them." "Pants. On. Now."

"Just, take a deep breath or something!" "TAKE A DEEP BREATH?! It feels like my insides are being RIPPED OUT!"

"Oh no." "What is it? What happened? Who died?" "I think I just felt an emotion." "You've got to be kidding me."

"I think I broke him."

"Ohh, so you think I'm cute when I'm angry? Well, get ready because I'm about to be GORGEOUS!"

"I don't care if you're panicking--just do it quietly."

"You didn't seriously...?" "Yep." "You just...?" "Yep." "Does that mean...?" "Quite probably."

"Oh, you're still alive." "Don't sound so disappointed. I might think you don't like me."

"The real treasures are the memories we made along the way." "I almost died!" "Ah, yes, that was my fondest memory."

"Hello, Life Ruiner." "Oh, calm down, that was years ago. Your life doesn't look too

ruined to me."

"I-I can't stop it. I'm sorry..." "It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything. I've got you."

*She has the favour of all the men. Why in the world would she choose a ____?

His eyes rose to meet mine. I was the only one left.

"Maybe one day, in my dreams, I'll find that perfect person." "Well, you must be dreaming because I'm right here."

"Hello, Darling. We are long overdue for a chat."

*How could he look at her like thaT? That was the look he gave me.

*We grew up together. You just never noticed I existed.

"What happened to your--" "I lost a bet." "Why--" "I don't want to talk about it."

"You gotta stop doing that." "What?" "Saying things that make me want to kiss you."

*I wanted you back

"You're hurting me."

"Can you please stop?"

"Why did you come back?"

"Go. Away."

"What you said really hurt."

"I can't do this anymore."

"I'm not fine. I know I said I was, but I'm not."

"I can't love you. I don't know how."

"I had no choice."

"It's too cold! Come back!"

"No, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed."

"Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go."

"He/She did it." "No, he/she did."

"I think I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified."

"No, no, it's alright, come here."

"I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise."

"Why did you come back?"

"What really matters to you?"

"I get why she/he chose you."

"I'm running from the mess I made."

"That was unforgivable."

"What are you doing here?"

*If only he knew she would be his downfall.

"I move with a dangerous crowd. The kind of men I don't want you to ever meet.

*Broken hearts win wars

"I can't breathe when I'm away from you."

"I can't have you, so I've decided I don't want you."

Handsome, broken and a mistake from the beginning. Are you sure you're comfortable with this?

"Are you decent?" "Not morally, but I'm wearing pants, if that's what you're asking."

*Never trust a survivor until you find out what they did to stay alive.

*We looked at each other a little too long to be just friends.

"You're just not the same anymore."

"Why do you run away from your problems all the time?"

"You can't keep it all inside, you know? Bottling it up won't do any good."

"Hey, I know you're hurting... But you're not alone, okay?"

"I hate you! I'm sorry it took me so damn long to realize that!"

"You lost your chance."

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

"You can't just lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset!"

"Calm down! You're scaring me!"

"Don't look at me like that."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I'm done trying to help you!"

"Sorry doesn't fix everything."

"Your hair is really soft after you wash it."

"Shh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair."

"You smell really nice."

"Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you."

"Here, let's share the blanket."

"You're comfy."

"You are my new pillow."

"You are very endearing when you're half asleep."

"But I want to hear you sing."

"Don't be stubborn, try it."

"Don't get up, I'll do it."

"Will you let me rub your back?"

"Star-gazing was a good idea."

"You look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight."

"I'll always be here for you."

"I'll be here to protect you."

"I think I love you."

"How about something warm? It'll help you sleep."

"It's okay, I couldn't sleep anyways."

"Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you."

"It's not morning yet."

"Shush and go back to bed."

"I heard you talking in your sleep."

"Your bedhead is really cute."

"How about a kiss?"

"This changes nothing... I'm still me, even if I'm with you."

"That kiss... Did you mean it?"

"No one has to known about us, I know this could ruin you."

"Yes, I love you, but I can't ignore everything you did in the past."

"Listen, we have to move on. Past is past, what we have now is everything."

"Are you messing with me? Because if you didn't mean what you said, I will kill you."

"Was that 'just a [*]'? I don't think so."

"You don't have to say you love me. No one means it anyways."

"Just let me love you, and you can pretend to love me. I don't mind."

"Don't leave me now, I can't bear it. We can go back to hating each other if it makes it easier, just don't leave me."

"I don't expect you to change. I don't want you to."

"People will talk. Let them. Their opinions mean nothing to me."

"It's us against the world now, isn't it?"

"Every time you kiss someone else, you'll be thinking of me, I know it."

"If fighting tells a person's true nature, than no one knows you better than me."

"If anyone lays a hand on you, I'll break their every finger."

"I've wanted you for so long, I could never say before."

"I can't go back to the way things were before. Being with you changed everything."

"We can pretend that nothing happened last night, but it did. And now we have a choice to make."

"You know every time you made me angry, I fantasized about you...."

"I don't regret one single moment, not one. It led me to you."

"I guess this means we belong to each other now, hm?"

"If anyone tries to talk me out of this, I won't hear them. I promise."

"Are you sure about this? There's no going back now."

"If you break my heart, I will deny everything and erase you."

"This may be the worst decision I ever made, I don't know. But we have to see if we can work."

"Woah, are you okay?"

"Get up!"

"W-what happened?"

"Steady now."

"What happened to you?"

"I got you, don't worry."

"You look like you're going to tip over at any second."

"Why am I on the ground?"

"Hey, wake up."

"Please tell me you aren't dead..."

"Please groan if you're awake."

"I... I need to sit down...."

"I have you, it's okay."

"Can you make it to that ___?"

"Do you need to sit down?"

"You belong to me."

"You're mine to own, understand?"

"No, you're not going out without me."

"Where do you think you're going dressed like that? You're body is for my eyes only."

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you sneaking out?"

"You're not allowed to see them anymore."

"You're being too friendly with them."

"I don't like it when they touch you."

"I can't stand how they're looking at you."

"You can't leave me. You couldn't live without me."

"I provide for you, you don't have to work now."

"I'm locking you in your room until you learn."

"Who were you talking to?"

"Come over here and make me."

"Stop thinking about him/her/them."

"You're beautiful/handsome and I'm not the only one who thinks that."

"I need your forgiveness."

"If you don't rest, you won't heal."

"You're the only one I can trust."

"Kiss me."

"I love you."

"I told you not to fall in love with me."

"I forgive a lot, but I never forget what's said and done."

"Please shut up, I can't stand how appealing your voice is."

"Shut up. Just shut up."

"Again?"

"I've been in love with you my entire life."

"I'm tired of being your secret."

"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

"How dare you."

"I dare you."

"It's you, it's always been you."

"Well, this is awkward...."

"Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you've been dying to ask me?"

"You think I'm dumb enough to fall for that stupid move?"

"When you love someone, you just don't stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy... Even then. Especially then!"

"I think I've been holding myself back from falling in love with you all over again."

"Those things you said yesterday.... Did you mean them?"

"You know we're supposed to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it too. I know you do."

"I'm not going to apologize for this. Not anymore."

"I will protect you with my life."

"Please don't let me fall." "Never."

"You'll catch me right?" "Always."

"I told you that I'd never leave you; I've not going anywhere."

"Wait, something doesn't feel right."

"Did you hear that?"

"Stay here and don't move. I'll be right back."

"You told me you were okay! You promised!"

Ẅhy didn't you tell me?!"

"How long have you been covering this?!"

"Who did this to you?"

"[NAME], this is serious!"

"Cut the [*] and tell me what happened."

"You've been trying to deal with this yourself?"

"You idiot!"

"Why did you lie to me?"

"We could have prevented this!"

"If you didn't want to be a burden, you should have gotten it treated right!"

"You didn't think it was that bad? Are you looking at it?!"

"You are not fine!"

"I'm in love with you."

"Please don't leave me."

"It's always been me."

"Shut up and kiss me."

"I've wanted this for so long."

"I can't wait any longer."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Can I touch you?'

"I missed you so much."

"Stay with me forever."

"I thought you didn't want me."

"I want you. Only you."

"The way I feel with you..."

"I'll always love you."

"Please marry me."

"Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

"Because I love you."

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen..."

"I can't stay away from you."

"I've been waiting all my life for you."

"I'm better when I'm with you."

"You make me so happy."

"I like the way your hand fits in mine."

"You have something in your hair, umm.... Do you want me to get it out?"

"It's nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today."

"Half the time I get to embarrassed to say anything."

"No, it's fine. I can wait until you're done talking with them."

"You're a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly."

"Geez, you always make me blush so damn much."

"I don't deserve you."

"Don't tell me you're fine, I can see the blood."

"I'm sorry, but.... I don't remember you."

"I wish I'd never met you." "No.... You don't mean that."

"Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It's not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying that someone was made for you. It's.... It's the love. It's too trong, and you can't fight it. I've tried. Believe me, I've tried... But I'm always going to love you. And I need you to know that."

"I thought I could trust you!"

"I should've known."

"Are you just going to leave me here?!"

"Where are you going?"

"Why did you do this?"

"Don't. I don't need to hear your pathetic excuses anymore."

"You can still do the right thing!"

"You knew about this all along, didn't you?"

"I will remember this..."

"I thought we were friends!"

"Please, let's just go back, please."

"This is a joke? Right?"

"What are you doing? What...?"

"I still believe there is a good person in you."

"It was necessary."

"Did you think I really cared about you?"

"This was my plan all along."

"There was no other way."

"This is what you get from trusting me."

"It's too late to go back."

"I'm sorry this had to go down like this."

"That's right, I lied."

"It's all for a good cause."

"You were so stupid. You should've known."

"Just so you know... I don't regret anything."

"Shame. I kind of liked you."

"This is my responsibility."

"You will no longer love me if you see who I truly am."

"It's alright, I'm right here."

"Why did you choose me?" "You know very well why, [NAME]."

"I'm a monster." "No, you're not."

"You deserve so much better than me."

"Stop lying."

"Why are you being like this?"

"Please hold me."

"I can't take this anymore."

"Please don't cry."

"I'm begging you, please don't lock yourself in your room."

"Don't shut me out."

"Give me one single [*] reason why I should/n't leave."

"Can't you tell he/she's broken?"

"You'd better put that knife down."

"Don't listen to them."

"Just leave."

"I don't need you."

"Get away from her/him/them before I break every bone in your body."

"No, wait!"

"Hear me out." "Why the [*] I listen to you?"

Person A doesn't talk much, but sometimes they shyly whisper cute/kind things into Person B's ear whenever they think Person B needs it.

Person A gently running their fingers through Person B's hair.

AU where everyone is born with a very unique tattoo on their ankle, nobody else in the world has that tattoo. Every time you fall in love, their tattoo appears somewhere else on your body. (i.e. a new tattoo appearing on a celebrity's body in new photos and a very lucky fan (who'd just met them,) realizing that it's their tattoo.)

"Whatever is wrong, I'll fix it. I'll fix it for you,"

"I've missed you so much."

"In a room full of people, it feels like it's just us two."

"I wanna be with you."

"Let me help you with that."

"There can only be you. I don't want anyone else."

"You look amazing in anything."

"I'm the luckiest person on earth."

"Don't forget this moment."

"I could never say no to you."

"I'm yours. I always have been."

"Kiss me and I'll forgive you."

"You're all I can think about."

"Man, I can't pay attention to anything else but you."

"Please me mine."

"When you look at me like that, it makes me want to give you my heart."

"Good morning, angel."

"When I'm with you, nothing hurts anymore."

"You're my everything."

"I'm gentle with you because I love you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I love waking up to you."

"You taste like forever."

"Sweetheart, come here. It's been far too long without seeing your face."

"You make me forget."

"I could kiss you all day."

"Thank you for taking care of me."

"You don't have to do all the things you do, but I truly appreciate it, and I love you."

"Please look at me."

"Is he/she really just a friend?"

"I'm just disappointed."

"You know I'm not like that."

"Don't give me space. That's the last thing I want with you."

"I know you still love me."

"I can't think straight with you."

"Why are you so stubborn?"

"Don't do this here."

"Trust me on this."

"Please don't misunderstand me."

"You... You never had a problem with it before."

"I know I shouldn't be here."

"What do you mean by that."

"You deserve more."

"Can you just kiss me? One last time? That's all I ask."

"I'm scared."

"I swear I'll do things different this time."

"She/He's beautiful. I hope she/he makes you happy."

"I want to believe you. I do."

"Not everyone is going to hurt you."

"I'm... I'm trying. I really am."

"I can't sleep."

"How long will this go on for?"

"Can I hug you?"

"Do you ever mean the things you say?"

"You won't understand."

"You're making me think that what they told me about you was right."

"Am I too late?"

"I loved you first."

"You broke my heart."

"I was alone."

"We have to stop."

"You left me."

"I can't do this anymore."

"You should have been here."

"I need you."

"You never cared."

"I'm so afraid."

"Just stay."

"You mean everything to me."

"You mean nothing to me."

"I can't do this alone."

"Don't leave me."

"I should have told you."

"Sorry isn't good enough."

"I still miss you."

"We can't fix this."

"I'm broken."

"You should have trusted me."

"I had no choice."

"I'm not worth it."

"Where were you when I needed you?"

"I never meant to hurt you."

"You have to let go."

"I didn't ask for this."

"I tried."

"This was never going to work."

"I should have been there."

"I lost her/him."

"It should have been you."

"Ow, yeah, okay, that's starting to hurt."

"It's just a cut."

"I've had worse."

"You're bleeding all over my floor!"

"Shall we?" "Not even in your dreams."

"Darling, stop."

"Stop... Running... I swear to... I will tackle you to the damn ground."

Who unconsciously holds their breath the first time they kiss and who pulls back and says, 'breathe."

AU where people age until they're 18 and then stop aging until they meet their soulmate so they can grow old together.

"You mess with him/her, you mess with me."

"That's it, you're staying here until I can get this sorted." "But I--" "No buts!"

"You give out pieces of yourself to people but never let them see the whole picture. I've

seen it. I know who you are."

"And if the world thinks it can keep us apart, then it hasn't been paying attention because there is nothing, nothing I wouldn't do just to stay by your side."

"I loved you at your darkest."

"I was just kinda hoping that you'd, y'know... Fall in love with me."

With one look in his eyes, she told herself, "this is going to hurt when it's over."

"I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

"I love you, you know that right?"

"Okay, so don't freak out, but I got [item/thing] everywhere...."

"Is it supposed to look like that?" "I think so?" "Is that a question or a statement?"

"Woah, I never knew you had a tattoo!"

"Are you safe? I-I don't know."

"Cuddle me you weirdo."

"Are you... Crying? You? Mister/Miss 'I don't cry, I'm tough as hell'?" "Oh shut up, we all have our weaknesses!"

"You're part of the family now, don't ever think you're not."

"Breathe, can you do that for me?"

"I'm a burden to you!"

"'I'm better off dead." "You're better off alive, with me."

"You're beautiful, and if anyone says that you're not, know that they're damn well wrong."

"You're warm, s'great for cuddling."

Character B's head hurts and Character A fusses as their thighs are used as a cushion, saying it's probably not comfy and Character B says that it's perfect because they get to stare up at their face and it has a great view. (Of their nostrils).

Character B is in so much pain and Character A knows it, so they let Character B hold their hand as tight as they want, even when it hurts and it feels like a finger just broke.

"Show me your scars," he said. "But... Why?" She asked quizzically. "I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"I thought that if I acted like it didn't matter, then it wouldn't."

Your father taught you a strange language when you were young. On your 18th birthday, you find out why...

"I don't need help! I just want the pain to stop!"

"We can be friends instead..."

"I tried to move on, but nobody is you..."

"Do I look like I've moved on?"

"I don't remember a fight or a reason, so what happened? Why did we break up?"

"I can't take the loneliness anymore."

"It feels like everyone just forgot I exist."

"Maybe I'm meant to be alone."

"I gave you your chance, and you just used it to stab me in the back."

"I've been alone for so long..."

"But you promised..."

"Isn't this, like, illegal?" "Probably."

"You're really drunk right now, I don't think you're going to remember any of this." "No, I'm not drunk at all. You're just blurry."

"I have a feeling we should kiss." "Is that a good or a bad feeling?"

"You go ahead, I'll hold them off for as long as I can."

"I'm not afraid to die, but I am afraid to lose you."

"Go on, a little liquid courage might make this easier."

"I miss home."

"Honey, I will punch you in the face and steal your food, do not cross me."

"Ew, rain."

"How long have you been standing there?" "Longer than you'd like."

His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared at me. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

"How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?"

They were looking, but I didn't care. I ran to him anyways.

"Stay for me."

"What's this between us?"

"I don't want your apology."

"You know I have feelings for you."

"Yeah, I remember the drill."

"You've never hurt me. Ever."

"Then leave her/him/them at home."

"I don't believe it."

"This is breaking my heart."

"You've met me at a very strange time in my life."

"What keeps you up at night?

"I wish you were here."

"I let you down."

"Something strange happened here."

"You're not safe here."

"I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

"We are not the same and never will be."

"You own my heart."

"You'd be a great dad."

"You'd be a great mum."

"I want to protect you."

"What's the matter."

"Stop being so cute."

"You're making me blush."

"You're teasing me again."

"This is why I fell in love with you."

"You're the best."

"They're going to love you, don't worry!"

"Oh, are you ticklish?"

"Of course I remembered?"

"You're one hell of a guy/girl."

"Are you jealous?"

"Hold me and never let me go."

"Stop hogging all the blankets!"

"Let's run away together."

"Tell me where it hurts."

"How did this happen?'

"Let me see."

"How bad is it?"

"Can you carry me?"

¨I can move.

"Don't move!"

"This is gonna hurt."

"I can't feel anything."

"You're burning up,"

"I-I threw up."

"Don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"How long have you felt like this?"

"Why didn't you tell me it hurt so bad?"

"Your pain can't be a ten, it's only a scratch--o-oh..."

"I fell down."

"Please, make it stop."

"Stop moving around, you'll make it worse."

"I don't think I can get up."

"I can't do it myself, I need you to do it."

"I'm too squeamish for this."

"It's only a scratch."

"Was there a scuffle?"

"This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well."

"Tell them how you screwed up."

"Until the day you learn how to start a normal conversation, I will have to be there to fix the messes you make."

"I don't know what the question was, but without a doubt my answer is 'I don't know'."

"Try not to gasp."

"Am I doing it right?"

"I am the backbone of this household."

"I know I've kissed you like, ten times, but just another ten, please."

"Let's just stay in bed."

"We live together. You can't blame this on anyone else."

"I think I might be pregnant."

"I want to try for a baby."

"You would make the perfect mum/dad."

"Think about it... The little patter of children in our home."

"I want to marry you."

"You're just not the same anymore."

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Why do you run away from your problems all the time?"

"I'm just tired...."

"I'm not crying, I just have some--okay, I am crying but if you tell anyone I'll make you regret it."

"Just leave me alone."

"...You're kind of an ugly crier."

"Should I come back later?"

After it happened, everyone tried to comfort me, and told me it would all be okay. That everything would turn out alright in the end. I sure hoped it wouldn't. Because little did they know, I was the one who had caused the problem, and I had done it for a reason."

Terror. Disgust. I don't really know. It's kind of a toss up when you wake up covered in blood.

I stroked his/her tear-stained cheek. His/Her eyes met mine, and I tried my hardest to remember them, because I knew that after today, I'd never see him/her again.

"You know how you always thought I was brave?" "Yeah?" "Well, I'm about to prove you wrong..."

"I've never had a child before...."

"How about [NAME] for a name?"

"Does it hurt?"

"You need to rest."

"Let me look after you."

"You're huge!"

"I want to feel it kick."

"Can I feel the bump?"

"Come quick! The baby's kicking!"

"How many months along are you?'

"Y-you're pregnant?"

"I'm pregnant."

"I think I'm pregnant."

"The baby is/isn't yours."

"I don't know who the father is."

"Is it mine?"

"You're beautiful, stretchmarks and all."

"We'll be okay, all three of us."

"I'm so scared."

They told me I'd never get pregnant, that it was a complete impossibility. In my hurt,

youthful, rebellious rage, I'd made the most of that. Oh, how I took advantage of it. You can imagine how the tiny heartbeat on the screen shocked me. But the doctors, they're accusing me of being someone else. That's how certain they'd been that my childhood injuries had rendered me completely unable to have children. Except I'm still scarred, inside and out, and I'm most definitely, one-hundred percent pregnant and I have no idea how. (Note: This one would be tweaked if used in Tolkien's universe or something similar).

"It's okay, I'm here."

"I'm not going to leave you."

"Everything is okay."

"I'm going to protect you."

"I believe in you."

"Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that."

"You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now."

"You're not going to lose me."

"I'll stay right here, okay?"

"Just breathe."

"I'm okay, you're okay, we're okay."

"You're everything to me."

"I don't care what they think. To me, you're perfect."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"You don't have to be alone."

"I feel like I'm being stabbed." "How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed?"

"Does he know about the baby?"

"You're kidding right? Hold on, you are kidding, right?"

"You came back."

"I promised, didn't I?"

"I love you a lot more than you believe."

"You're pretty."

"You have a nice smile."

"You look nice."

She ran as fast as her pregnant belly would allow her to.

*Her screams were like windchimes, stuck in a storm.

*It was less than a second, maybe half a second, but it changed everything.

When she walked into the room, everyone gasped. She was... Different.

"I didn't think you were the type to lose your sanity for a guy/girl." "I didn't either."

"You're special," he/she smiled, tucking a lock of the (h/c) hair behind the young guy/girl's ear. "I get why he/she chose you."

"It's a long story." "You conned me into thinking you were dead for [x amount of time]. I have time."

There was something about him. Something about the way he watched me.

"It's okay," he said, wrapping his arms around her as she shook with terror. "It's over now." "No, it's not." She whispered back, "it hasn't even begun."

"I never stood a chance, did I?" "That's the sad part. You did once."

"I don't know why you're freaking out about being fake married to a guy/girl you're basically married to."

He squinted his eyes, looking over her. "What's the matter with you?" He asked. She glanced down at her feet and mumbled, "I don't know."

You're vacationing in a city you've never been in before, when you suddenly find yourself in a place you've seen hundreds of times in your dreams. The person you always see in those dreams is there too, and they slowly turn and ask, "is it really you?"

He didn't even know her name, yet he felt sorry for her--for all the pain she was going to live through.

"Wait," I forced the word through my clenched teeth, but he/she was already gone.

"She/He deserves better than me."

"We're more than 'just friends' and you know it."

"It's me! It's me! Calm down [endearment], please."

"What have you been doing? Actually, don't answer that, I don't want to know."

"Touch her again and I'll kill you." "Will you? Because last time I checked, petty threats don't do [*] [NAME]. They just piss me off more."

"You don't mess with my family."

"This isn't anything like how I'd imagined it."

"Don't worry, it hurts a little less each time."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Go ahead--rip my heart out."

"I don't care what you talk about, can you just keep talking?"

"I'm not afraid of thunder, that's silly--"

"I can't sleep, so can you sing to me?"

"Stop laughing at me."

"Is it okay if I steal your heart?"

"I will protect you with my life."

"Hold this, I'm gonna go kick his [*]."

"How many of these do you have?"

"You're the one who said to be quiet, and you're not being quiet."

"I was kidding."

"Hey, do you wanna fight?"

"Where did you get that?"

"And then--hey, are you listening?"

"Watch, this is the best part."

"How long have you been standing outside?"

"Did you just throw that at me?"

He/She knew one hundred little things about him/her, but when he/she kissed him/her, he/she couldn't even remember his/her own name.

The rain bit into his/her skin like needles and he/she screamed and cried until the taste of blood was all he/she knew. But still, he/she clawed at the drt with his/her bare fingernails like that which was buried beneath was all he/she had left--because it was.

They were like fire and ash. So similar, yet so different. She was beautiful, lively, destructive. He was lost, scarred and totally in love with her.

"Go to him. He waits for you."

"The truth? I like you a lot. You make me happy. You make me laugh. You're smart. You're different. You're a little crazy and awkward, and your smile alone can make my day."

"Did any of these [*] mess with you?" "No, you've marked your territory so hard they're scared to even say 'hello'."

"Don't you get it? I chose you, over anyone else. I always [*] chose you."

"You don't need to protect me."

"You fainted... Straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes."

"You have to make a choice."

"You have the most amazing eyes."

"You have to remember!"

"You heard me. Take. It. Off."

"You know, it's okay to cry..."

"You lied to me!"

"You look beautiful!"

"You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

"You need to leave. Right now."

"You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

"You shouldn't have even been there!"

"You walked away. Not me."

"You weren't supposed to hear that..."

"You'll be the death of me."

"You're not alone."

Imagine Person A talking about how much prettier their friends are then them, and getting really down about themselves and Person B just responds with, "I find that hard to believe."

Imagine your favourite character running up to you and picking you up, spinning you around and then setting you back down with your head against their chest and their chin resting on your head. Before you can ask what's got them in such a good mood today, the whisper, "I just realized that I'm in love with you and it feels fantastic."

Imagine Person A picking up sleepy Person B and carrying them to bed, and Person B just snuggles their face into Person A's shoulder.

Imagine at your OTP's wedding, Person A says their vows and then Person B surprises them by saying their vows in Person A's first language, which Person B hadn't known. Person B had studied and learned the language special to surprise Person A.

Person B kisses Person A, normally the bold one, in a crowded public place. This leaves the normally shameless Person A a flustered mess.

Imagine Person A lightly tracing 'I love you' over and over again on Person B's back, assuming that Person B is asleep. When Person A is lying on their back, getting ready

to sleep, Person B moves closer and wraps their arms around Person A, whispering softly; "I love you too." Bonus if that's the first time Person A has ever declared their love for Person B.

Character A is hypothermic and progressively getting worse. How far will Character B got o keep them warm and alive before help comes?

"Catch me." Character A murmurs, wavering on the spot. "What?" Character B says before Character A promptly collapses, (presumably from an unknown injury/illness).

After years of being told to 'man up' or 'stop acting like a baby' or 'somebody else has it worse, you're fine' when sick or injured, Character A hides their injuries/illnesses for the sake of others being treated first... That is until their situation turns out to be much worse than anticipated.

Breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you're murmuring into each other's mouths.

Moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed.

Kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person's.

Throwing their arms around the other person, holding them close while they kiss.

Hands on the other person's back, fingers pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that makes them break the kiss with a gasp.

Lazy morning kisses before they've even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up.

Someone taking a hot shower/bath with a fever because they 'felt cold/were freezing' and stumbling out of the bathroom, holding onto the doorframe for support, realizing this was a very bad idea and only barely managing to weakly call for help before they sink to the ground, overheated, their fever significantly worse than before.

Imagine Person A has been teasing Person B all day. Whether it be slapping their butt, whispering things in their ear, or kissing them in their most sensitive places (neck, collarbone, etc.) Person B finally gets sick of it and pins Person A against a wall. Person B whispers in their ear, "you better stop."

Building a wall of pillows between them and they still wake up in each other arms.

Person A calms Person B down when they wake up gasping.

Person A soothing them by stroking their hair and they fall asleep in their arms.

Person A keeps snoring and Person B kicks them every time.

"Person A hogs all the covers and Person B's solution is to spoon them.

The two of them wake up smelling like each other when they wake up.

Person A and B are sleeping but Person A wakes up because Person B is having nightmares, moving around and mumbling. Person A doesn't know what to do at first, but then Person A slowly comes closer to them and hugs them. Person B then calms down and they both proceed sleeping.

Person A gently kisses Person B on the head and tells them it's time to get up. When Person B doesn't respond, Person A trails kisses down from their lips to just below their navel, leaving Person B incredibly horny the rest of the morning.

Person A and B are on the couch. Person A is lying on Person B while Person B gently

massages their fingers through their hair.

Imagine your OTP sitting in a room quietly, doing their own thing. Person A looks at Person B and just smiles. Person B starts blushing and they both start giggling and laughing uncontrollably.

Imagine that Person A is kissing Person B's body all over, but Person B keeps ruining the mood by giggling due to their excessive ticklishness.

Person A and B are dating and Person A's friends are always 'awwing' at the lovebirds whenever they're so much as around each other. Person C narrates their love life. "He leans closer, brushing a strand of hair out of her--" "[NAME], I am up to here with your--"

Person A is taking care of a very sick Person B. They eventually end up cuddling because Person A wanted to comfort Person B and keep them warm, despite Person B's objections that they might be contagious and don't want Person A to get sick. Then Person B throws up on Person A. Person B apologizes profusely, but Person A insists that it's okay and works on getting them both cleaned up.

Imagine Person B asking Person A to find something in a drawer in their room. Person A frantically searches through all the drawers in Person B's room. All of them, so far, filled with clothes. Finally, getting to the bottom drawer of the dresser, Person A accidentally finds Person B's underwear drawer.

"That's information only I know and I'm not going to tell you," Person A told Person B. "It takes the fun away from watching you squirm."

"I know you care and that you're hurting but..." He/she took her/his hand, "I know you love me too..." "Being with me will only bring you trouble."

"I swear if I had a choice, I'd take you with me."

*I didn't leave because of him, but he was why I never went back home.

"[NAME], I am so not in the mood..."

"Go talk to her already. You've been standing here staring at her and it's starting to get weird."

"Hey," she/he snarled. "You've been avoiding me."

Imagine Person A sitting in their bedroom, crying over something, trying to be quiet but Person B hears anyways and slowly enters the room to see them on their bed with their arms around their knees and their head resting on their knees. Person B walks over to them and wraps their arms around Person A.

His face was cloaked in shadow, but it didn’t matter. I would recognize thate (voicetone) voice anywhere.

“I got lost the other day...” “Where?” “In your eyes.”

#angst #prompt list #prompts #writing prompts #any fandom #fluff #drama #sadness #others

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camillemontespan · 4 years

Text

home [drake walker x camille montespan] [one shot]

Prompt from @emichelle “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

@moonlightgem7 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @burnsoslow @ibldw-main @katedrakeohd @saivilo @mskaneko @pug-bitch @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @gardeningourmet @walkerswhiskeygirl

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

Camille let out a throaty laugh that echoed around the ballroom. It was the kind of laugh that made Drake feel warm and whole, the kind of laugh that he knew was genuinely felt by her. It was a laugh that gave away Camille.

She was laughing at something Leo had said as he twirled her around the dance floor.

Leo shone golden, as he always did. Camille reflected back at him. Drake watched them like a rain cloud threatening their joy. Turning to the bartender, he gestured for another glass of whiskey and then closed his eyes to calm his inner thoughts.

Stop being jealous. They’re just dancing. They’re not together; Camille loves you. Stop comparing.

But as he turned back to watch Camille dancing with the abdicated king, Drake couldn’t help but feel that she deserved this spotlight. Camille deserved this life of grandeur. She had made an impression at court and many had asked why she wasn’t dancing with Leo’s brother, the king. They all watched this sparkling woman who lit up the room with her throaty laugh and smile and asked why she wasn’t the Queen.

Only Drake and Camille knew the reason.

She had chosen him. After a year of holding back feelings and what felt like torture, Drake and Camille had finally admitted they loved each other. They hadn’t wanted to admit their true feelings as they didn’t want to hurt Liam, but over time, it became clear.

It had always been Drake and Camille.

So why was Drake feeling like he wanted to punch Leo in the face? Camille could dance with whoever she wanted. Drake didn’t own her.

He just wished he could dance with her and be the only one she wanted to dance with.

They had danced a few times but it was always clumsy. Camille knew the steps to the Cordonian Waltz but Drake, a seasoned courtier, did not. He would trip over his feet as they danced together and often times, it was Camille who lead. She would whisper the steps in his ear: ‘left foot, step back twice, stop, move forward two steps,’ and Drake appreciated her help, however he felt like a fraud. He should know how to dance the waltz. He should know the correct way to use the various cutlery at dinner. But he didn’t. He didn’t because he hadn’t been bothered to learn it.

But Camille made him want to learn those things.

However, right now, she was dancing with Leo, a former King of Cordonia. Leo knew the dance moves. He knew how to lead. He knew how to use the correct fucking cutlery at dinner.

How could Camille dance with Leo and then go back to Drake? How could she bring herself down? Why choose the weakest link?

Downing his whiskey, Drake turned on his heel and began to stride through the ballroom, not bothering to stop for Camille who paused her dancing and tried to gently pull him back.

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

Drake sat on the balcony of his room nursing a bottle of whiskey as he looked out over Cordonia. The lights from the city below shone and the air was warm with the sound of crickets talking to each other in the distance. Drake wished he was down in the city, with the people like him, the ones who were normal and didn’t have to live in this world of opulence, backstabbing and power.

His bedroom door knocked. Slowly, Drake dragged himself to his feet and moved through the room to open the door to find Camille standing at the threshold with a concerned expression on her face.

‘Montespan-’

She pushed through the door and turned to face him. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking right now,’ she said bluntly.

Drake blinked. ‘Uhhh…’

‘Because I can tell you,’ she interrupted. ‘You saw me dancing with Leo and you started to compare yourself to him, even though you know that I am only friends with him and there is zero attraction between us. But, it’s not attraction you’re worried about; it’s your identity. You think you’re not enough, despite the fact I tell you everyday that you are. Have I got it right?’

Drake stared at her with wide eyes. ‘Um.. yeah. You got it in one.’

Camille crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly. ‘I knew it.’

Drake ran his hand through his hair and awkwardly gestured for her to follow him out to the balcony. She eyed the bottle of whiskey. ‘You have another glass?’ she asked. Mutely, Drake found another glass in the cupboard and brought it out for her. She poured a double measure into the glass and then settled down into a chair. Crossing her legs, she placed the glass on her knee and beckoned for Drake to sit down opposite her.

Drake braced himself. This was a deep Camille chat moment. This was what she did with Hana when things got too much for either of them. Camille was the friend you needed in your corner if things were difficult; she would be the first to brandish a bottle of wine and say, ‘Let’s unpack everything you’re feeling.’

Drake bit his lip. ‘I guess I was feeling.. Inferior.’

Camille didn’t respond. Instead, her brown eyes were fixed on his, willing him to keep talking.

Talking about feelings was alien to Drake. He had managed to build walls around himself as an act of self-preservation. Prone to expecting people to always disappoint him, Drake had learned from a young age that the only person you could truly rely on was yourself. As a result, he shut people out. He was always in the shadows at court, hidden in the corners. And he had liked it that way until Camille Montespan came into his life.

‘You’re just so born for this life,’ he continued. ‘You shine. Why drag yourself down with me? Why threaten your reputation? You could do so well in this life with the right people around you. I don’t do anything here, I contribute nothing. I have nothing to offer you.’

He saw Camille pouring another glass of whiskey for him and he gladly took it before continuing his rant. Because he WAS ranting now. For some reason, Camille made him talk openly and made him want to talk about feelings. Camille was the only one who had managed to scale his walls and pull them down. How had she done it? What was it about this woman?

‘Can you imagine our future?’ Drake continued. ‘How everyone would laugh at you when they saw you with me? You wouldn’t be taken seriously-’

‘Drake,’ Camille said softly, interrupting his tirade. ‘Who cares what other people think?’

Drake went quiet. He couldn’t admit that he did. Despite his hatred of court, all he had wanted in life was to be accepted. He had this bravado but really, deep down, he was like his sister.

Camille leaned forward to take his hand. ‘Drake, answer me.’

He sighed. ‘I do. I care because it means you would be associated with me and trust me, you don’t want to be associated with me.’

Camille shook her head. ‘You’re too hard on yourself.’

‘It’s true.’

‘You’re ridiculous.’

They were silent for a moment until Drake broke it. Drake never broke silences.

‘I think you think you love me,’ he whispered. ‘But really, as soon as you realise how difficult the reality will be, you will call it quits.’

As soon as the words left his mouth, Drake regretted them. Camille was on her feet in an instant, knocking her glass of whiskey to the floor, making it smash. ‘How dare you?’ she shouted. ‘How fucking dare you?’

Drake raised his hands and stood up, trying to calm her down. ‘Camille-’

‘You don’t get to dictate how I feel!’ Camille burst out. ‘I love you so much! All I want is you! All I think about is you! Do you really think so low of me that I’ll cast you aside? That I’ll leave you for a shinier option? You are not a fucking toy, Drake, I’m not going to discard you as soon as is fucking convenient! I am WITH YOU. I want to be with you.’

Drake grabbed her hands, desperate to get her back on side, but she pushed him away. ‘I know you have your grandmother’s engagement ring hidden in your bedside table!’ she shouted. ‘I know she told you to keep it for the right girl and I know this because you told me! I keep telling you I want us to start a life together, make it official, tell the world we’re together, but for some reason, you won’t open up. You won’t let yourself be vulnerable. You tell me your secrets at 3am but in the daylight, you call me Montespan and keep me at arms length. It doesn’t make sense. I mean, you took a fucking bullet for me! After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you? I have worked so hard to bring down your walls but now that we can finally be together, it’s like you’ve jumped ship. You say you love me but then tell me that I should be with Leo or Liam or Maxwell. Why? Why do you do that?-’

‘Because everyone always ends up leaving me in the end!’ Drake roared, losing it. ‘Dad died, mom left, Savannah left. Nobody stays with me. So excuse me for trying to make sure that I beat you and everyone else to the punch.’

He knew his words sounded brutal and stark. He knew he sounded unfeeling.

Camille wiped her eyes and then threw her shoulders back, adopting the regal pose she did when she wanted to be confident. ‘Then you clearly don’t know me,’ she whispered, her voice cracking. She pushed past him and left the room, the door slamming behind her to leave Drake alone on the balcony with broken glass and broken thoughts.

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

Camille took a hot shower, letting the water scald her skin. She pushed thoughts of Drake to the back of her mind and instead used her coping method for when things felt too much; one thing you can feel, one thing you can hear, one thing you can smell, one thing you can see.

I can feel water. I can hear water. I can smell coconut. I can see marble.

Camille hated marble. Ever since she joined court, she began to hate all things marble. Marble walls, marble floors, marble everything.. She longed for carpets and lived in houses. Home. Shiny palaces were not her environment, despite the brave face she put on things.

She got out of the shower and dried her body before pulling on a delicate pink silk camisole and short set. Pulling her hair into a messy bun, she padded through to her bedroom and out onto her own balcony. Her balcony was on the other side of the palace, which meant the other side to where Drake stayed. While his balcony looked out over the city, hers looked out over the harbour.

I can feel the warm air against my skin. I can hear the waves lapping against the harbour wall. I can smell sea salt. I can see the stars in the sky shining on the water.

She allowed herself to think of Drake. The man who stayed in the shadows at court and who initially treated her with indifference had shown himself to be a man of sensitivity, humour and unwavering loyalty. He had taken a fucking bullet for her.

He had helped her feel at home here. Yes, Hana and Maxwell had helped in making her feel settled but it was Drake who took her out to dive bars, it was Drake who shared whiskey with her, it was Drake who watched American TV shows with her on Netflix.

It was Drake who told her his fears at 3am. It was Drake who listened to her when she told him about her parents. It was Drake who encouraged her to do well at the suitor competition even though both their hearts weren’t in it. It was Drake who made her feel happy and whole and complete.

Sniffling, Camille wiped away rebellious tears and shook her head.

Enough. You will not cry over him.

But she loved him. She truly loved him. Why couldn’t he see that?

Her door knocked. Reluctantly, Camille stood up to move through the room to open it. Unsurprisingly, it was Drake.

‘Drake, I’m tired, I don’t want to get into this right now-’

Drake pushed past her and turned to face her. His eyes were set with determination. ‘I’m a fucking idiot,’ he said. ‘Such a fucking idiot. I didn’t meant to push you away and I’m sorry I even tried to. I shouldn’t have. Camille, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You make me happy. I look forward to waking up because it means I get to see you. You are the only thing that’s important to me and I was pathetic to even try and ruin it. I know you’re different; that’s one reason why I love you. You’re you. You’re Camille Montespan and in all honesty, I want you to be Camille Walker.’

Camille stepped back. ‘Drake.. What?’

Drake reached into his pocket and brought out a green velvet box. He opened it to reveal a square blue topaz ring. Camille gasped, her eyes widening. ‘Drake.. Is that..’

‘My grammy’s engagement ring,’ Drake clarified. ‘I did tell you that she told me to keep it for the right girl. She said that when I met this girl, I would know because I would be happy and feel whole. You make me feel whole, Camille. To ignore her wishes and to ignore my feelings for you would be a disservice.’

He bent down on one knee and looked up at her. His hand that held the box shook from nerves. ‘Will you marry me?’

Camille blinked and cleared her throat. Her eyes were filling with tears. ‘You mean it?’ she asked, her voice rising. ‘You really mean that?’

Drake nodded. ‘Never been more sure of anything in my life.’

Camille swallowed and Drake could see a smile forming. She exhaled and then spoke the one crucial word he needed to hear.

‘Yes.’

Their mouths crashed together in an instant. They both tasted of whiskey. Drake could smell the coconut in Camille’s hair. He realised now that he could kiss her now whenever he wanted. He could drag his fingers through her hair and pull her closer whenever he wanted. He could make her happy whenever he wanted.

Drake was going to treasure this love. He wasn’t going to wreck it. He was going to worship this woman for as long as he lived because she deserved it.

As he kissed her fiercely, Drake knew that he was home.

#drake walker #drake walker x mc #trr fanfic

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