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cuttoothed · 3 years

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Day 7 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt "You are my reason". Still living in post-200 AU land.

There comes a day when Jon doesn’t wake up afraid.

His alarm goes off before the sun rises; he wakes tired, but feeling a little thrill of anticipation, because he and Martin have plans today. Nothing earth shattering, but they’re both off work, and the weather is due to be nice, so they’re going hiking up in the hills. Jon’s been looking forward to this all week; he's even okay with being up at dawn on his day off.

The hike is challenging, but the views are worth it, as the morning clouds part into sunshine and leave them gazing out across the craggy, verdant landscape. At the crest of the trail, they sit on a boulder to eat sandwiches and drink tea from a flask; Martin spots some cows on the hillside below and points them out with delight. By the time they get back to the car, they’re exhausted, and they agree that nobody’s going to be cooking tonight, so it’s takeaway from the Indian place near their flat.

That evening they eat too much curry, and drink red wine, and end up curled sleepy and sated on the sofa together, watching nonsense on telly.

“This was a good day,” Jon says; Martin only hums in agreement, so it’s probably time to get him to bed.

It’s only as he’s brushing his teeth that Jon realizes that he hasn’t thought about the end of the world all day. He usually wakes up from dreams of the ruined world; at the very least, it’s always in the back of his mind, guilt and fear and grief tapping at the windows of his consciousness through the day. He’s never had a day where he didn’t think at all about what happened—about what he did.

The realization jolts sharply through him, like a missed step in the dark; it makes something drop like a stone into his stomach, though he doesn't understand why.

He tells his therapist about it at their next session, couched in the careful untruths he’s crafted to convey the vast weight of it all without mentioning the literal apocalypse. Stuart listens, nodding, as he describes what happened, and then when Jon is finished he says:

“You know this is a good thing, right?”

“S-sorry?”

“Trauma plants its roots deep, Jon. It’s pervasive, like chronic pain. The days you have without pain in your leg or your hand, those are good, right? Even though they don’t mean that you’re permanently healed?”

“Yes,” Jon admits, flexing his fingers.

“This is the same. Your trauma isn’t gone, but the fact that you were able to enjoy a whole day without thinking about what happened—that’s really, really good.”

“But I can’t just forget—” Jon starts, and he’s not sure what he’s trying to say; I can’t forget what happened, I can’t forget that it was my fault, I can’t stop looking over my shoulder for what’s coming next.

“Of course not,” Stuart agrees. “But part of healing is letting what happened move into the past. Not forgetting it, but recognizing that it isn’t part of your present. That you can move on.”

Except it is the present, in the thousands of worlds he unleashed the Fears into. It isn’t something that can just be forgotten, that he can move on from. They’ve seen and felt no trace of the Fears in this world yet, but even that doesn’t mean they won’t come; it may just be a matter of time. Jon feels his chest tighten with that knowledge, that fear.

“The people I hurt,” he says carefully. “It’s not in the past for them—they’re still hurt by my actions today.”

“That might be true,” Stuart says. “But from what you’ve told me, you can’t change that. And your guilt doesn’t help them. All it does is punish you.”

“Maybe I deserve to be punished,” Jon snaps angrily, but Stuart only smiles, his face kind.

“Nobody deserves to be punished forever, Jon. Eventually, you have to forgive yourself.”

They’re nice words, but Stuart can’t possibly understand what he’s asking Jon to do. He’s been responsible for immeasurable pain and fear, the unchecked torture of billions of people; he will be responsible for so much more, across thousands of worlds. His whole life has been nothing but a means to a horrifying end. How can he just absolve himself of guilt, enjoy this charmed life he’s somehow gained while damning countless others?

(How can he believe that the consequences will not find him, someday.)

Martin must notice his mood when he gets back from therapy, because it’s not five minutes before a mug of tea and a packet of Jon’s favorite biscuits are placed on the coffee table in front of him.

“All right?” Martin asks, sitting down on the sofa with his own tea. He never asks Jon questions about his therapy —just as Jon respects the privacy of Martin’s sessions—but if he thinks Jon is upset, he’ll ask an open question like this, so Jon knows the offer is there to talk about it.

Jon considers. He hasn’t told Martin about what happened—or rather didn’t happen—the day they went hiking, not wanting to spoil it for him. But Martin’s the only person in this entire world who can possibly understand how Jon is feeling, and he’s the person Jon trusts most. Jon doesn’t want to hide things from him, not anymore. They’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.

So he tells Martin what happened, and how it made him feel, and what Stuart said, and how that made him feel. At the end of it, Martin gives him a fond, teasing smile.

“So what I’m hearing is that you’re feeling bad for not feeling bad,” he says. “That is...so incredibly you, honestly.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Jon protests.

“I know it is. And I’m not trying to dismiss how you feel. I promise. It’s just…” Martin pauses, his brow furrowing as he considers what to say. “Sometimes, when I feel sad for no reason—when parts of me go sort of...numb, I start looking around, expecting to see the fog curling in under the windows. But it isn’t, because the Lonely isn’t here, and I have to deal with the fact that there’s no—no fear monster making me feel that way. It’s just me.”

“Martin…” says Jon, his heart aching. Martin doesn’t often talk about the bad days, after they’ve passed; he prefers to save it for his therapist, since “that’s what I pay them for”. He reaches for Martin’s hand, and Martin laces their fingers together.

“I think you’re the same,” Martin says. “Ever since we got here, you’ve been waiting for something bad to happen. For all of it to—to catch up with you. But it hasn’t. There’s no Fears coming after you, and there’s no...universal justice, or whatever, to punish you. It’s just you, Jon.”

Jon feels a lump in his throat, his eyes stinging. Has he been waiting all this time for something bad to happen, for the other shoe to drop? Has he thought of this as only temporary—a longer respite than that three weeks in the cottage, but just as impermanent? He shakes his head.

“That doesn’t take away from what I did,” he says. Martin nods.

“It doesn’t,” he says. “And nothing takes from the fact that I didn’t kill Jonah Magnus when I had the chance, either. We can’t change the past. We just have to find reasons to live with it. To carry on living. Now, as we are.”

“You know what my reason is,” Jon tells him, his voice thick with emotion; he told Martin a long time ago. Martin ducks his head, smiling, and his fingers squeeze around Jon’s.

“I know,” he says. “But it’s okay to have other reasons too. A nice hike in the hills, or going to the pub with some friends, or petting the many cats you seem to have befriended in our neighborhood. It’s okay to just...be happy, Jon. I promise.”

“I-I’m not sure I can,” Jon tells him; he’s not sure he deserves the chance to be.

“I know,” Martin says. “I know it’s difficult. But you do deserve it. And I’ll be here to keep telling you that until you believe it. I’ll be here to help you keep getting better, like you help me. As long as it takes.”

Jon feels a sob rising in his chest, and dives in to stifle it against Martin’s shoulder, burying his face in the solid expanse. He can feel the tears wetting his cheeks, soaking into Martin’s jumper, but he knows Martin won’t mind. Martin’s arms go around him.

“I hope you’re okay with the long haul, then,” he mumbles against Martin’s shoulder. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this, probably nothing, but he has it, and he doesn’t want to let it go. Martin chuckles warmly, petting his hair.

“That’s what I’m here for, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll be your reason, if you’ll be mine.”

“That’s the deal, then?” Jon says; he’s not sure if he’s laughing or sobbing, but he knows he loves this man with all his heart.

“That’s the deal,” Martin agrees. And Jon might not deserve a deal like that, but he’d be a fool not to take it.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartinweek2021 #my fic #jonmartin

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lumosinlove · 3 years

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Vaincre

Part ii: August

For the hope of it all

The river was crowded, but the pier was their own.

Happy Birthday Harzy, was spelled out in big balloon letters, turning in the summer breeze, backwards and bumping.

Logan stood at the waterfront and looked at Leo’s—as it was mostly Leo’s—handiwork. Lobster rolls and soft-shell crab buffet, corn bread and iced tea. Chilled white and orange wines. Summer dresses fluttered and crossed each other as people talked, making new patterns, and Logan let himself settle into the laughter. He had a bad habit of taking peace and worrying it away. He didn’t want to do that today. He wanted to watch Finn enjoy himself, his team, his family. Logan had spent every one of Finn’s birthdays with their Harvard team, and then there had been that one, horribly absent year when Finn had been in Gryffindor and he hadn’t—not yet. He wanted to watch the way Leo put his long arms around his friends, in the same way his mother did, warm and strong. Logan wanted to watch without feeling that sharp tug of worry. He couldn’t have even said what he was worrying about. It was vague.

He’d done a lot of watching this summer. He loved it to the point of never wanting to do anything else. Finn and Leo were alike to each other in more ways than Logan would ever be. Whatever rapid-fire conversation they were in the middle of would often quickly leave Logan behind, but Logan didn’t care as long as he got them stumbling and laughing over each other to try and explain it to him—a book, a TV show, some sort of video game. He knew they liked telling him about it, and Logan loved watching them love things—including himself. Logan had never thought of himself as acting as a grounding point before. That had always been Finn or Leo. He always felt too wild in his own head, unsure, reserved. Vague. But Leo had said it to him this summer.

“When me and Finn lived together, we stayed up so late just talking,” Leo had said one early morning on the beach when they had left Finn sleeping. Logan wouldn’t be quick to forget the feeling of just being able to hold Leo’s hand for so long, in such an open space.

Leo had kissed the back of his palm too many times for Logan to think he’d be forgetting it, either.

“And you and I did the same thing, you know?” Leo continued. “On roadies.”

“Playing cards,” Logan smiled. “And our sundaes.”

Leo nodded, and his smile grew a little softer. He stared at his toes digging into the sand. “And I knew how connected you two were. Well, I guess not how connected, but I knew you two were better friends than anyone on the team, even Sirius and James. Even if you didn’t always act like it. I feel like good friends can do that, handle distance and snap back into place.”

“And?” Logan remembered asking playfully. “Which long talks were better?”

Leo just laughed. “No, no. Not better. Finn talking is like…wild. Like wind. Talking to you is stillness. I love both. The point is, that was…that was my connection. To both of you.” He had cleared his throat then, and given Logan’s hand a squeeze. “My mama always says if you can talk to someone forever then—“

“They’re yours forever,” Logan finished. “My maman says the same thing.”

Leo’s answering smile had been blinding.

An arm circled his waist, another pressing right over his heart.

“Nice party,” Finn said softly into his ear, and Logan only had a moment in that warmth before it was gone, wary of prying eyes. It made Logan miss France, and their brief stay at his mother’s family home that summer.

No one had known them there, and Leo had adored the markets, cooking elaborate meals while Finn and Logan had sat on the counter, watching him and loving him. They’d eaten out on the stone patio, overlooking the sea.

Finn looked a little like he had there, cheeks sun-hot. Logan wanted to reach for them, as he had then, cool them with his thumb. Finn smiled, making the sun-kissed skin crease a little.

“What?” he asked.

Logan shook his head. “Remember that picture?” he asked. “The one of us. It was on your wall at Harvard, you were standing behind me, hand on my chest.”

Finn’s mouth quirked, and he nodded. Logan hesitated for a moment, realizing that Finn was wearing his NASA t-shirt, the same one he had worn the day he’d left Harvard for good, leaving Logan behind. Logan stared at the logo, then looked away, back up to his brown eyes. Bambi, the boys at Harvard had called him.

He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “I don’t know where it went. I know you packed it, took it with you, but I can’t find it. Do you know…”

Logan trailed off, as Finn had taken out his wallet. He set his beer on the pier ledge, flipped the worn leather open, and slipped out a folded piece of paper, thick, and well-loved. He held it out to Logan, biting his lip, and then leaned back against the railing, as if waiting.

Logan let the photo fall open in his fingers, and exhaled a shaky, steadying breath. There was a laugh in it somewhere.

“Oh,” he said.

“Didn’t know you were looking for it,” Finn replied, and trailed his fingers, cold from his beer, over Logan’s wrist, then reached up to fiddle briefly with his necklace.

Logan traced his eyes over the same, gaudy string lights in the photo, their same smiles—the one Logan knew he wore more freely these days.

Logan folded the picture closed again, and slipped it back into its place in Finn’s wallet.

“You want it, Lo?” Finn asked.

Logan shook his head. “I like that you have it.”

Finn stretched out a foot, ankle hooking around Logan’s, pulling him a little closer again, to stand nearly between his legs.

“I had it all that first year,” Finn smiled. “On my own.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

Finn grinned, singing off-key. “Pretending he’s beside me—”

Logan groaned, shoving his shoulder a little. “Okay, D’accord, I walked into that.”

Finn laughed loudly, and then swung his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go find Le, get more food.”

They strode towards the tables.

“Hey!” Evgeni called out. He was standing with Olli and Jackson, his looming form leaning over the pier. “Ten bucks I jump!”

“Kuns, you don’t want to swim in this river,” Finn said.

“He’s going in whether you pay him or not,” Jackson shook his head. “At some point tonight.” He grinned, the scar that ran down one of his cheeks dimpling when he smiled. “Bet you twenty.”

“Nado,” Evgeni gasped, slapping his arm. “We split. Even.”

“No fucking way.”

Logan let Finn lead him away from their bickering, towards where he could immediately spot Leo, standing with Remus and Thomas. Logan felt everything just—soften.

“Do you ever think you could just find him?” Finn asked softly, the hand around Logan’s shoulders gesturing in Leo’s direction. “I mean, even if you couldn’t see him. You know?”

“Ouais,” Logan said, voice just as soft. “I know.”

Leo was mid-laugh when he spotted them, too.

“I gotta say,” he said as he met them halfway, hand on his hip, sunglasses in his hair. “I did a pretty damn good job.”

Logan huffed out a laugh. “You did. Really good.”

Finn snorted. “Way to take the credit, Nut.”

“He deserves it,” Logan said. “I was just here.”

“Lo’s the gift master,” Leo swung his arm around his shoulders. “And I’m the food master. Sounds about right?”

Logan patted Leo’s chest. “Are you going to jump in?”

Leo raised his eyebrows, squinting out at the water. “Do I want to swim in this water?”

“I’d swim if it was with you two,” Finn said. “I’d risk the murky monsters of the deep.”

“You gotta wait twenty minutes after eating,” Leo said. “And I haven’t tried the soft serve yet. They have swirls, they have mango, I mean, come on. I did so good.”

Finn laughed. “And I’m going to kiss you stupid later.”

“And I’m going to hold you to that,” Leo leaned in a little. “Birthday boy.”

They found Sirius holding a cone out to Remus by the machine, and Remus wrinkling his nose.

“C’est la vanille!” Sirius was laughing. “Quoi? Really? You don’t like vanilla?”

“You do?” Remus shook his head.

“Y’all we’ve caught the couple splashed on the front of every magazine in a, dare I say,” Leo paused, “fight?”

“First it’s pineapple pizza, now it’s vanilla,” Remus reached up, pushing Sirius’ chin length hair out of his eyes. “What did I sign up for?”

“Carrying his hair ties for him, apparently,” Finn reached out and snapped the tie around Remus’ wrist.

Remus rolled his eyes, and Logan thought Sirius might have blushed. When Logan reached up to poke at his cheek, he slapped his hand away and Logan laughed.

Sirius dragged Remus away towards where Julian, Remus’ little brother, was calling them over to the beanbag toss, and, momentarily tucked behind the shade of the soft-serve station, Logan felt Leo pull the both of them closer.

“Pretty good beginning to the end of the summer,” he sighed, licking his own cone.

“It was a damn good summer,” Finn grinned. “Hey, give me.”

Logan watched Leo hold out his cone to Finn, and agreed. It had been more than a good summer. It had been a perfect summer, and something in that made Logan stupidly worried. Sun and salt, and cold wine, and hot bodies pressed together as the moon rose. Logan closed his eyes for a moment, tucked between the two of them, and tried not to ruin this peace by thinking about all the times peace hadn’t been there.

This was Finn’s day. This was their season. Logan tilted his chin up and let the sweet mango of Leo’s ice cream sweeten his thoughts.

Noelle wasn’t at Finn’s party, and Thomas could feel it. He fiddled with the new, thin gold hoops she’d gifted him, barely circling away from his ears, the left one with a pearl strung along.

I’m the lucky one who found you, she’d said.

And he’d had to go and ruin it by trying to be funny, even while tears were pressing up as close to him as she was.

What does that make us, oysters?

She’d laughed, looked happy, but Thomas wished he’d said something else. He wished he had gotten something for her. He wished she wasn’t so far away.

I miss you, he tapped out on his phone, and that felt perfectly honest. Simple. Enough.

The three dots popped up and then went away. Thomas tried not to let it mean anything. She deserved to be busy. She worked just as hard—harder—than he did. Still, something like relief flooded through him when a long string of pink hearts answered him.

I miss YOU, T baby. Good party?? Tell Harzy happy bday for me.

Thomas blew out a breath. Will do. Say hi to the girls for me.

“You look like sad sunshine,” Natalie’s voice came, and he looked up to see her walking towards him, taking a sip from a honey colored beer with a lime wedged into it.

“I’m a little sad, Sunshine, like it or not,” Thomas laughed softly, pocketing his phone. “Where are the boys?”

“Canoodling,” Natalie sighed, hopping up onto one of the stools beside him under the umbrella. She had her long blond hair swept up into two french braids. “We’re both getting in our last drops of Alex, I think.”

Thomas nodded. “Hey, I never really asked, Nat. That just…happened this summer, or what?”

Natalie smiled. “Well, when I met Kasey, he hadn’t made it big yet, still on the Rangers farm team, but Alex had been on the Rangers for…maybe about a year? I can’t quite remember. I think Kase had only gotten called up a few times, so they’d met. But anyway, we start dating, two years later he gets a big boy contract with the Rags, and we get to know Alex. I saw him at team dinners only at first.” She smiled. “I was like, cutie, look at those freckles. But I had Kase, you know? I was pretty confused when I started looking a little closer. I mean, I was so happy.”

She pushed her sunglasses into her hair, leaning an elbow on the table and fiddling with a gold necklace at her throat that had the number 30 strung across the leather cord. Thomas wondered if she was going to add a 28 to that, Alex’s number, or if she’d get another one. He wondered if Noelle would want something like that. Maybe they could wear each other’s. He liked the thought.

“Well,” Natalie said. “I was confused until I noticed Kasey looking, but he wasn’t pulling away from me and I thought, hey…maybe this is something?”

“But that was how many years ago?”

Natalie took another drink. “No, yeah, nothing ever happened. Actually, I think they kissed once or twice. Roadies, you know? But Kasey gets traded, and then Finn arrived and we were like, wow, cruel joke.”

Thomas laughed. “I bet. But it meant Alex comes around again.”

She grinned. “That it did.”

Thomas held his drink up for a cheers. “Guess we owe those Cubs a lot.”

She clinked their bottles together. “Life’s weird. But, yeah, it happened this summer officially. Went to the O’Hara Hampton house, and I think we just loved being together. I forgot a little, how wonderful Alexander is. But,” she was smiling wildly again. “I woke up one morning and the boys had gone on a walk, they got back three hours later holding hands, Alex kissed me, and something changed. Maybe they worked through some history of theirs. We’re his now, he’s ours, whatever you want to call it.” She laughed. “Pretty good for a morning’s work.”

“Pretty good,” Thomas repeated.

“I’m worried it’ll be hard, though,” she sighed, chest rising and falling dejectedly. “He’s all the way in Florida and we’re here, together.”

Thomas glanced back down at his phone. “Yeah.”

“I bet that makes me sound like a snob to you,” she reached out and squeezed his hand.

He waved her off. “No, no, I just…we’re new, me and Noelle. Sometimes I worry that we’re too new for…for this.”

Natalie shook her head. “I think distance is distance. And, if it doesn’t work, it isn’t the physical space between two people. It’s a different sort of far away.”

Thomas tapped his fingers against his glass. “You just have something to say for everything, huh, Nat?”

She grinned. “Pretty mouth, gotta use it.”

Thomas snorted. “You’re not wrong.”

“Come on,” she said. “I’m going to whip your ass a ring toss.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

“Apparently they closed down a bunch of streets,” Remus was saying, still bleary-eyed and waking up as Sirius made the coffee. “That’s awesome.”

“It’s a parade. Of course,” Sirius said as he pushed the lid of their french press down.

Remus looked up to see him smiling and rolled his eyes, laughing, “Okay, sure, but it’s still crazy. They say it’s going to bigger than the Cup Parade was in June.”

That made Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “Really?”

Remus hummed in agreement, clicking his phone off and popping his back. “Well. I know Pride is in June, but I’m happy we get to do this, too.”

Sirius nodded, sliding onto the stool beside Remus with two waiting mugs. “Captain gets the Cup last. I don’t make the rules.”

Remus just yawned and let his temple fall against Sirius’ shoulder, closing his eyes as Sirius’ warm palm came to brush over his hair and neck.

“September is in two weeks,” Remus mumbled. “How the hell did that happen?”

Sirius poured their coffee and pressed a kiss against Remus’ hair. “You’ll be fine.”

“Hm?”

“I know you’re nervous for training camp. You’ve seen it a million times, though.”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed and sat up pulling his steaming mug close. “Seen it.”

Sirius laughed, going to the refrigerator for the milk. His hair was in dark, glorious tangles, and Remus vaguely wondered how much time they had before they needed to get ready.

“I meant,” Sirius leaned over the island and poured them both milk before capping it again and going for the brown sugar. Remus smiled when he realized that Sirius had picked that up from Remus’ mom, Hope. “I meant that you know it never comes across like…like some insane competition for spots.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “It is, though. I mean, not for the Sirius Black, but…”

“D’accord,” Sirius nodded. “Okay, okay. But you know what I mean?”

“I’m not worried about the team,” Remus said as Sirius came to sit down again. “I’m worried I’m not going to make the team.”

Sirius shook his head, set his mug down, and all but pulled Remus off of his stool to gather him close. Remus mumbled something about cold coffee, but smiled as he let himself be kissed good morning, kissed calm, kissed loved.

“I’m not worried,” Sirius whispered, and kissed him some more.

Remus had barely shut his car door—having opened it to cheers—before he was getting an armful of his little brother.

“Oof,” Remus grunted, but squeezed him, lifting him off of his feet. “Nice outfit, Jules.”

Julian jumped back, his Lupin Lions Pride jersey actually fitting him for once. “Thanks, dad found it for me.”

“He insisted on wearing it,” Hope Lupin smiled as she walked up. “But you’re going to roast so tell me when you want your t-shirt, baby, it’s in my bag. Hi, Re.”

“Hi, mom,” Remus let her kiss his cheek a few times.

“Salut,” Sirius grinned from beside him. Remus watched them hug, warmed more deeply than by the heat. Hope patted Sirius’ chest where a faded rainbow twelve was printed on his t-shirt. Remus was going to steal that thing as soon as he took it off.

“What a party!” Hope grinned. “Is someone grilling? Thought I smelled it.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, they got this restaurant downtown to bring BBQ.”

“Is there ice cream?” Julian said, huffing. “I’m hot.”

Sirius plucked at his jersey jokingly. “Mais, ouais, it’s almost ninety!”

Hope laughed, and put a hand on Julian’s back. “I’ll get him cooled off. Your dad’s around here somewhere with Pascal. Meet you on the float in ten. And make sure you’re wearing sunscreen!”

Remus watched his family wind their way through the colorful, crowded streets, felt Sirius’ fingers lace through his own, and smiled.

The sun did beat down hot, but Remus didn’t mind so much, not when they were filed onto the float that was equipped with a red and gold Lions head roaring at the front and rainbow streamers at the back, like an extension of the mane. The Cup sat on a high pedestal between them, strapped in shining.

The crowd was wild. People were hanging out of the tall parking garage that lined one side. The pavement was painted in thick strips of rainbow in some places, and red and gold in others.

Gryffindor loved their Lions. It almost made Remus want to cry, seeing how happy Sirius was. Half of the team was on their float, some of them walking beside. Remus spotted Logan sporting a rainbow brimmed hat walking with Kasey and returned the peace sign Logan sent up.

“Everyone is decked out, man,” James shouted in Remus’ ear from beside him, Harry on his hip. He and Lily had returned in time for Finn’s birthday. He was wearing a Lions Pride shirt, and Harry had a tiny one to match and a sunhat that practically covered his entire body that Lily kept coming over to adjust. James grinned. “Damn. Good Cup Day.”

“It’s not my Cup Day,” Remus laughed. “But I do sort of feel like this is my day.”

James just smiled, pointing at people for Harry to wave at. “Maybe won’t have to make that distinction next year, eh? Look, Har, see the flags? You want one, bud?”

“Re,” Sirius leaned in, and Remus felt his hand on his back. “Want to walk a bit?”

Remus nodded, eyes finding where Leo, Jackson, Evgeni, and Olli were walking together, keeping time with the floats and talking to the crowd. Leo had a rainbow flag painted on one cheek, Natalie’s work.

Remus felt for his own hat, flipping the colorful brim backwards as he hopped down.

“Hey,” Jackson grinned, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders. Evgeni had one of Sergei’s daughters in his arms, chatting with the crowd. He wasn’t wearing Jackson’s rainbow-striped shirt, but it looked like one of the kids had stuck two stickers on one of his cheeks that he wasn’t bothering removing. Remus wondered if he was worried, about his family, or his country, like he had told Sirius. It sent a wave of thankfulness through him, the fact that he was here.

“Nado,” Remus hugged Jackson. “Jesus, seriously, what did you do this summer? You look fit, man.”

“You see him,” Evgeni called over, handing a sharpie back to someone wrapped almost entirely in a flag covered with glitter. “Stare in the mirror, in love.”

“I don’t,” Jackson protested.

Evgeni just shrugged, spinning Sergei’s daughter around. “I’m see you.”

“Well, hand some over,” Remus said.

Jackson just gave him a shake. “You’re going to make the team.”

“Maybe,” Remus groaned out a laugh, knocking him away.

“No maybes,” Sirius said, sidling up to Remus’ side and replacing Jackson’s arm.

“Sirius! Cap!” someone called, and Remus felt Sirius tense a little, as he always did in crowds, or media.

The person calling had short brown hair and seemed to have tailored a loose jersey of Sirius’ into a form-fitting dress. The sleeves were cut and hemmed by the twelves on the sleeves.

“Salut!” they said, accent stiff, and laughed. “I tried.”

That seemed to ease Sirius a little, and Remus tugged him to a stop.

“Salut,” Sirius smiled. “Wow, that’s my jersey?”

They nodded, eyes sliding over to Remus. “It is. My girlfriend was hoping to have a Lupin one so we can match, but…”

The girl beside her, black hair tucked up in a bandana, smiled and threw her hands up. “When are they stocking those! I have two hundred bucks I’m ready to drop, I mean, let’s go before I second guess myself!”

Remus laughed. “Oh man, I’ve been there.”

“With my jersey, ouais?” Sirius grinned was teasing as he signed an autograph and Remus blushed.

“Here,” Sirius took out his phone. “You can give me your phone number, if you’re okay with it, and I’ll get you one? Yeah?”

“Oh…are you kidding?” the girl put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I…yes, Cap, you can have my phone number, sure fucking thing.”

They moved along the crowd easily. Sirius grabbed the Cup at one point, walking it along for people to touch just as their entire team had in June. Remus stayed well away.

“No jinxes here,” an older man in a Lions Pride shirt laughed, his arm around his son. He held out his hand. “My entire family’s been Lions fans for generations. Glad to have you on the team.”

His son, the very image of his father, smiled and tentatively held out a sharpie. “Would you sign my shirt? I’ve seen your tapes and everything, I…you’re my favorite. I was thinking about getting out of hockey before you.”

Remus blinked. “I…” he took the sharpie, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “I’m glad you’re staying. Are you a defenseman?”

He lit up. “How’d you know?”

Remus shrugged, smiling. “You hold yourself like one.”

“I hope that’s a good thing!” Remus heard Olli call from a little ways down.

He laughed. “How did you hear that?”

Remus signed the boy’s shirt, thanked him, and jogged a little to catch up with Sirius.

“I’ll take that,” Jackson grinned, and plucked the Cup from Sirius’ grasp.

“It’s my Cup Day!” Sirius laughed, but wrapped his arm around Remus instead. “Hi.”

“That was my first signature,” Remus said softly, to Sirius only, and Sirius squeezed his shoulders.

“The first of many.”

It was a bit of a blur after that. Natalie brought them ice cream and cold lemonade, which turned Sirius’ kisses even sweeter when they made it back home, out of the heat and stumbling, happy and sun-kissed. Sirius’ entrance hall was dark to Remus’ unadjusted eyes, and he focused on his palms, splayed over Sirius’ broad back. He yelped when a voice rang out from the living room.

“We’re on the couch!” Regulus shouted. “Just so you know!”

Sirius broke the kiss, looking flushed and dazed. “What…why?”

“I live here!” Regulus’ voice called back.

Remus suppressed a smile, and leaned his forehead against Sirius’ chest, trying to calm his breathing and any flush of arousal that had been beginning to stir up.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore. “How did he get home before us?”

“Who’s we?” Remus called out.

“Howdy,” Leo’s voice came.

Sirius sighed. “It’s my Cup Day.”

Remus gave his hip a short pat before walking down the hallway and rounding the corner to find Leo and Regulus slouched on the couch, AC on full blast.

“Right,” Remus nodded. “You’re suppose to be helping Reg pack for school.”

Regulus glanced up from his phone. “There’s twenty different gifs of you jumping down from the float and turning his hat backwards on Twitter.”

Remus blinked. “What?” He didn’t even remember doing that.

Leo nodded, crunching a potato chip. “And we’ve only been looking for ten minutes.”

“Huh,” Sirius said, turning towards the kitchen. He stopped, hesitated for a moment, and turned back. “Let me see.”

Remus huffed out a laugh. “I need water.”

“Donne-moi!” Sirius demanded of Regulus, grabbing for his phone.

“You have your own phone!” Remus made out Regulus’ reply in French.

Remus filled his glass, downed in, and was filling it again when Leo came into the kitchen, rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Thought I’d leave the brothers to fight. Can’t believe I used to be scared of both of them.”

Remus laughed, too. “Right?”

Remus watched Leo grab a glass, spinning his own slowly around on the counter. “Are you…”

Leo glanced up. “Hm?”

Remus took a breath. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but I know today must’ve been a little…” he took his hat off, the colorful bill bright against the dark stone of the counter.

Leo nodded in understanding, sliding onto a stool. “It wasn’t…hard. It was actually good to see all of the support. I could see it in Finn and Logan, too. Logan is nervous.” He nodded to himself. “More nervous than me and Finn. Understandably. I mean, you know how long he and Finn…” Leo shook his head. “I was happy he got to see that. And Finn was happy, I know, too. Maybe we’ll start making plans. I mean, this summer was just fucking heaven. Just being together. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

“Me too,” Remus sat on the stool beside him. They smiled at each other, then laughed. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“I am, too,” Leo grinned. “All right, I think me and Reg have to actually put his clothes in suitcases now.”

“Good luck.”

“That boy owns, like, five t-shirts,” Leo drained his glass and put it in the sink. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Remus grabbed a third glass and followed Leo back into the living room where they found Sirius leaning over the back of the couch, squinting at Regulus’ phone. He did a double take when he spotted Remus.

“Hey, where’s your hat?”

Remus snorted. “I’m not a twitter gif. C’mon, I need a shower.”

Regulus raised a teasing eyebrow. “And you need him for that?”

Remus stuck out his tongue. “Yeah.”

Sirius flicked the back of Regulus’ head. “Go pack.”

Remus tugged his t-shirt off on their way up the stairs. “That was wonderful, but fuck do I wish it wasn’t a thousand degrees.”

“I don’t know,” came Sirius’ reply from behind him as they entered their bedroom, followed by his hands on Remus’ hips and his lips against his neck. “When it’s hot, your hair sticks to your neck just…” he kissed just by Remus’ ear gently. “Here.”

Remus bit back a smile. “With sweat.”

“It’s handsome, I think.”

Remus laughed, turning in Sirius’ arms. He was summer tan and happy. Remus didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that grin, one that was more and more present lately. Sirius laughed and made small talk with fans who asked for pictures—even today, he had seemed to almost enjoy the crowds and the media. Remus touched his number twelve necklace. He brought it to his lips. “You’re handsome.”

They stepped into the shower together and stood in the peace and quiet of the beating down water, turned cool against their heated skin. Remus rested his head against Sirius’ chest, and smiled when he felt Sirius lace their fingers together. It wasn’t exactly a new thing anymore, but it still felt new. It had been that way when James, Lily, and Harry had first arrived home and Sirius had done it on the table between them at the restaurant, just as it had been early in June, when Sirius had done it while they waiting in line to board their plane.

Remus looked up, squeezing his hand, and Sirius bent to take Remus’ mouth against his own again. It was softer, but Remus felt just as giddy from the day’s events. A parade. A Cup Day.

He wanted one of his own.

“Love you, mon loup,” he smiled. “Thank you for today.”

Remus ran his hand over Sirius’ broad shoulders. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything,” Sirius whispered back. “You are part of me allowing myself things.”

Remus felt his expression soften.

“Heather explained it that way,” Sirius said. “I thought it was well put.”

Heather, the team’s sports psychiatrist. Remus had only actually met her a few times, but Sirius valued her highly, had called her a few times during the off season.

“I like it, too,” he said, and let Sirius pull him close again.

They threw the windows open to let the cooling breeze in once they were back downstairs, and Sirius put steaks on the grill for the two of them.

“Where’d Reg and Nut go?” Sirius asked.

“I think out with some of the boys,” Remus said, and followed as Sirius went back out to the patio. He notched his hip against the door frame. “Hey, do you want to go to the rink tomorrow? All this Cup talk has got me wanting to skate, like, now.”

Sirius tilted his head back and laughed. “With you? Always.”

Remus grinned and padded back over to the counter where the salad was waiting for dressing.

“I’m glad we didn’t end up having everyone over,” Remus said as he tossed it. “As much as I love them.”

Sirius hummed, sliding the screen door of the deck closed. He set the plate and tongs down before wrapping his arms around Remus.

“As much as I love them,” he repeated quietly, lips brushing against Remus’ neck. “I want you all to myself right now.”

Remus leaned back against him. “My thoughts exactly, baby.”

Sirius smiled against his skin. “Glad we’re on the same page. Vanilla hater.”

Remus pinched his arm. “Pineapple hater.”

Cole woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting down to his room from the kitchen—and Katie Dumais curled up at the foot of his bed.

He jumped a little, and then sat up slowly. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t asleep, but that she was fiddling with a little charm bracelet, her eyes down.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, Katie.”

She looked up, and a grin lit up her face. “Mom says breakfast is ready. I didn’t want to wake you up, even though she told me to.”

He sat up a little more. “How long ago was that?”

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe four hours?”

Cole blinked, and picked up his phone from his nightstand. It was eight-thirty. He glanced back at Katie.

“Can you tell time?” he asked slowly.

“Not really,” she sighed happily, and kept fiddling with her bracelet. “You still have rainbow paint on your face.”

Cole laughed, rubbing a hand over his cheek, where Lily Potter had painted a flag the day before, for the parade. Where the Stanley Cup had been.

It still all felt surreal to say.

“Okay. Um, tell her I’ll be up in a second, okay?”

Katie nodded. “Okay!”

Cole listened to her footsteps scamper all the way up the stairs before he flopped back down on his pillows and chuckled to himself. He gave his teeth a quick brush and followed.

“Bon matin,” Celeste smiled as she flipped a few more pieces of bacon onto a plate. “How did you sleep? I think that heat yesterday tired everyone out.”

Cole slid onto a stool beside Marc and Louis, Katie to his right. “Really good, thanks.”

“The air conditioner isn’t acting up again?” Celeste asked. “Logan was always having trouble with that thing.”

“It didn’t turn on right away, but I fixed it,” Cole smiled when she set a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and fruit in front of him, and then another plate with toast. “My mom’s big with her tool kit, so, I mean, if you ever need anything around the house, I know some stuff. Just so I can…help out. Thank you for letting me stay.”

Celeste beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re not just letting you stay. We’re very happy you’re here. Someone your age shouldn’t be alone, especially with all the pressure that comes with this job. But I will absolutely take you up on that. You wouldn’t know how to build me some planters, would you? Pascal bought the wood ages ago,” she turned back to the sink, waving a spatula. “Always saying he will take care of it, and yet there it sits!”

Cole laughed softly. “Yeah, I can do that. Sounds good.”

“Well, good,” Celeste smiled, pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Now, Pascal is with Sergei for an ice session—which you’re always invited to, he says, by the way—I’m taking Louis to tennis, and Marc to space camp. Layla will be here soon, but do you mind looking after Katie until she gets here? Adele’s up in her room if you have any questions. She’ll know.”

Cole nodded, trying to swallow the eggs quickly. “Of course. No problem.”

Celeste smiled. “She loves you enough already, she’ll be no trouble.”

“She’s always trouble,” Louis mumbled.

Celeste tisked, but kissed his head. “Come on, up. Cole, you have some of the boys’ numbers, too, right?”

“Um,” Cole thought of Sirius Black’s number in his phone from when he called him. “Yes?”

“Good. I know you don’t have a car yet, and you’re always welcomed to ours when it’s available, but if you ever need a ride anywhere, I’m sure any one of them will drive you.”

Cole, for the life of him, didn’t think he would ever be able to bring himself to call Sirius Black up and ask him to drive him to, what, Target? Jesus.

“Right,” Cole tried for a smile and knew it came out nervous. “Thanks.”

Katie did turn out to be a pretty easy kid. Even if she did seem to switch activities at a rapid pace. She drew, and then she watched half of a TV show, and then she was hungry, but she did all of it herself. After less than 30 minutes she had parked both of them on the couch where they were stringing beads for necklaces.

“I’ll make you Lions colors,” she said seriously.

That had been Cole’s best—and only—idea. He glanced at the multi-colored kit. “What colors do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Cole smiled. “All right. What’s your charm bracelet?” He nodded to the small silver ring around her wrist.

“It’s from Tremzy,” Katie thrust her wrist forward. “He gets me one every one of my birthdays. There’s a hockey stick, because we love hockey, and an ice cream cone, because we love ice cream, and this is a book because we read together, and—”

There was the ding that told Cole that Layla had arrived, coming in from the garage, and Katie was off again.

“Hi,” Cole said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Layla looked up from trying to put her things down and hug Katie at the same time. “Hey, Cole.”

“How’s it going?” Cole asked, feeling decidedly more prepared this time. Layla was in a green tank-top today, but her same shorts and gold rings.

“Busy,” she laughed. “I actually have my first orientation this evening, at the rink.”

Cole nodded. “Nice. I’ve never actually been inside. Well, not yet, I guess.”

Layla straightened at that. “Well…I’m driving over once Celeste gets home, just to see the place first.” She seemed to take a breath. “Do you want to come with?”

They didn’t have full gear, but the chilled rink was a relief against the sweat they worked up anyway. Remus borrowed a helmet—his own hadn’t been sent out yet—and used his old, worn in CCM skates.

“I can still beat you in these,” Remus panted as he skated backwards, tapping the puck back and forth and trying to gauge which way Sirius was going to dodge first.

“Oh, I know,” Sirius said, then lifted his right foot and went left.

Remus knocked the puck out of his stick towards the boards, and it sent them both chasing it.

“You use that trick too much!” Remus laughed, it echoing across the empty rink, as he shoved Sirius against the glass, the puck trapped between his skate blade and the foot of the boards.

“What about this one?” Sirius said, and turned to press their mouths together. Remus smiled into it, and it was enough to allow Sirius to steal the puck back.

“No!” Remus laughed as Sirius carried the puck expertly across the blue line, winding his stick up and taking a deadly slap shot, notching it perfectly in the upper left corner of the empty goal.

He dropped to a knee, sliding into a celebration before wrapping around the goal with a final whoop and crashing back into Remus for another kiss.

“Wanna run plays?” Sirius asked. “I’ll be your center if you’ll be my winger.”

Remus smiled as they reset themselves, pushing the used pucks towards the boards. “That might not happen.”

“Maybe I have more pull than you think.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Not that much, baby. What’s going to happen is I’ll start on the fourth line, go from there. Anything else and every journalist in the city would go batshit crazy.”

Sirius just scooped another puck into the goal, then hooked his arms over his stick, the body behind his neck. “Wouldn’t be our first time causing that.”

Remus smiled. “True.” He nudged Sirius towards center ice. “Face-off.”

Sirius took his helmet off to push his hair back. “Let’s do it.”

Remus was just tugging off his shirt, smiling as he listened to Sirius rattle of plans for the season, when he heard two voices laughing from the hallway. Sirius’ smile dropped, and he narrowed his eyes at the door.

“Don’t know,” Sirius said. “Hey, where are we meeting the guys for—”

“Should we check out the locker room?” one of the outside voices said—higher. “Do you think it’s open?”

“Non,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, grabbing for the back of his own shirt.

The door opened hesitantly at first, then wider, revealing Layla and Cole.

Cole flushed, and Layla’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Sorry, we didn’t think…”

Remus glanced at Sirius, but when he didn’t say anything, just pretending to fiddle grumpily with his bag, he waved them off.

“Hey, we were just swinging by for a quick skate. It’s not our locker room,” he smiled. “Well, not only ours. You guys have the same idea?”

“Not skating, maybe,” Layla replied, twisting one of her braids around her finger. She looked up at Cole, who still looked like he thought he was in the wrong place, and smiled. “But neither of us have really gotten to look around yet, so, we thought we would.”

Remus smiled, using his dirty t-shirt to wipe sweat from his brow. “Nice. Well, maybe Cap and I can give you a tour or something some time.”

Sirius glanced up. “Marls does that.”

Remus tried to send Sirius a look with his eyes, but Sirius just glanced mournfully towards what Remus thought might be the video review room.

“Well…” Remus said hesitantly.

“We’ll keep looking around,” Layla said quickly. “See you guys around.”

Remus watched them to make sure the door was closed, then turned and punched Sirius in the arm.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked.

“Grumpy.”

“I liked it just us,” Sirius mumbled. “I thought we could plan plays or—or watch tape.”

Remus laughed, pressing his forehead to Sirius’ chest. “You’re such a baby.”

One corner of Sirius’ mouth raised. “So?”

“You wanted the rookie to stop making moon eyes at you,” Remus said. “Here’s your chance.”

“D’accord,” Sirius’ grin spread as he gathered Remus closer by his hips. “But will you keep making moon eyes at me?”

Remus leaned up for a gentle kiss. “I’m going to ask them to lunch. Wait here, Captain, you scare the rookie.”

“I don’t,” Sirius sighed, and Remus pushed out the locker room door.

“Hey,” Remus jogged to catch up as Cole and Layla turned at his voice. “Us and some of the other guys are planning to get lunch. How about it? You, too, Layla.”

Layla blinked. “Seriously?”

Remus laughed. “Team lunch isn’t a team lunch without the PT. Or, one of them, at least.”

Layla grinned. “Right. Well, I’d love to.”

Cole nodded quickly. “I—yeah. Yeah, cool. That rooftop place again?”

“You’re already picking up on team favorites, I see.”

Cole smiled sheepishly. “Kuny makes us go there every time.”

“It’s the sushi,” Remus laughed. “He’s a man obsessed. Well, cool. Meet you there in twenty?”

Layla jingled her keys. “See you there.”

“Sushi,” Evgeni all but moaned as he picked up a piece of yellowtail.

“Jesus, Kuns,” Jackson said. “You can’t eat all of that by yourself.”

Evgeni was chewing with his eyes closed. “You don’t know.”

“All right,” Thomas leaned forward, folding his sunglasses into his shirt in the shade of their umbrella. “What do we think this season, boys? Predictions, let me hear them.”

They all looked to Sirius first, who leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back of Remus’. He took a sip of his iced tea.

“Rangers,” he said finally.

“Uh-huh,” James nodded.

“Same,” Layla said, taking a spoonful of her miso soup.

“Caps, maybe,” Sirius continued.

“Definitely,” Remus said.

“I’m feeling Avs?” Thomas offered. “And I don’t want to say Snakes, but…yuck.”

“More like Vegas,” Remus said.

The table paused, and Remus just shook his head.

“It’s true,” he said, glancing at Cole and Layla, trying to decide if they’d noticed the shift in the air. He had to be able to talk about this. About him. "They’re deep this year.”

“Yeah,” Cole said softly. “Greyback’s killer.”

Remus felt the entire table tense and felt immediately guilty. Cole didn’t know what he had said, and Remus all but watched him wonder if he’d said something wrong.

“And us,” Thomas grinned, slapping Cole on the back. “We’ve got Lupin now. We’ve got Reyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but laughed. He tried to express his thanks silently, and Thomas winked at him.

This felt different. He had known it would. Team dinners would be his dinners now, not a friendly tag-along invite. Driving to practice with Sirius, they would go through almost the same routine, not split off for his office and the locker room. These were his teammates. He’d win and lose with them, and they with him, in a way they hadn’t before. Sitting there, in the sunshine that was going to turn colder, Remus looked forward to a year of this.

215 notes · View notes

miawin6 · 3 years

Text

PERCY JACKSON CHARACTERS AS EVERMORE LYRICS

Percy Jackson

And if it was an open-shut case

I never would've known from that look on your face

The more that you say, the less I know

Wherever you stray, I follow

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

When we were younger, down in the park

Honey, making a lark of the misery

And we live in peace, but if someone comes at us

This time, I'm ready

And when I was shipwrecked, I thought of you

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you

Annabeth Chase

You know that my train could take you home

Anywhere else is hollow

There is happiness

Past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries

Beyond the terror in the nightfall

Haunted by the look in my eyes

That would've loved you for a lifetime

Leave it all behind

Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk?

When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

I can't make it go away by making you a villain

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness

Never be so kind, you forget to be clever

Never be so clever, you forget to be kind

Piper Mclean

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night

Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife

As if you were a mythical thing

Like you were a trophy or a champion ring

And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

If I can't relate to you anymore

Then who am I related to?

And the skeletons in both our closets

Plotted hard to mess this up

Jason Grace

It's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass

But I felt it when I passed you

There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me

But if it's all the same to you

It's the same to me

You can run, but only so far

I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave

But if it's okay with you, it's okay with me

I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay

Sorry for not making you my centerfold

Were you waiting at our old spot

In the tree line, by the gold clock?

Did I leave you hanging every single day?

Were you standing in the hallway with a big cake?

Happy birthday

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?

A universe away

Sometimes walking out is the one thing

That will find you the right thing

Hazel Levesque

Show me the places where the others gave you scars

I sit and watch you and notice everything you do or don't do

You're so much older and wiser and I

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid

Use my best colors for your portrait

Lay the table with the fancy shit

And watch you tolerate it

Will you forgive my soul

When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

No more tug of war now, I just know there's more

I rewind the tape but all it does is pause

On the very moment all was lost

If our love died young, I can't bear witness

And it's been so long

Frank Zhang

And in the disbelief, I can't face reinvention

I haven't met the new me yet

Fatefully

I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me

If the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go

Never be so polite, you forget your power

Never wield such power, you forget to be polite

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

Leo Valdez

"This dorm was once a madhouse"

I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own

To leave the warmest bed I've ever known

We could call it even

Even though I'm leavin'

There'll be happiness after me

But there was happiness because of me

Both of these things I believe

There is happiness

After giving you the best I had

Tell me what to give after that

I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered in you

I'd live and die for moments that we stole

On begged and borrowed time

And you know in your soul

When it's time to go

Nico di Angelo

I'm begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans, that's my man

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

They count me out time and time again

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea

'Cause you know it could never be

My mind turns your life into folklore

There'll be happiness after you

But there was happiness because of you

Both of these things can be true

And you passed right by

I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides

Long story short, it was the wrong guy

Now I'm all about you

Actually

I always felt I must look better in the rear view

And he's passing by

Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

And he feels like home

Long story short, it was a bad time

Long story short, I survived

And I couldn't be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

This pain wouldn't be for evermore

When the words of a sister come back in whispers

That prove she was not in fact what she seemed

Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano

You had a speech, you're speechless

Love slipped beyond your reaches

While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life

But what would you do if I, I

Break free and leave us in ruins

Took this dagger in me and removed it

Gain the weight of you then lose it

Believe me, I could do it

This place is the same as it ever was

But you don't like it that way

It's never too late

To come back to my side

Yes, I got your letter

Yes, I'm doing better

I know that it's over

I don't need your closure

I know I'm just a wrinkle in your new life

Staying friends would iron it out so nice

Guilty, guilty reaching out across the sea

That you put between you and me

Right where you left me

You left me no, you left me no

You left me no choice but to stay here forever

96 notes · View notes

blackcatrph · 3 years

Text

** evermore sentence starters.

willow.

“ i'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night. ��

“ you cut through like a knife. ”

“ i never would have known from the look on your face. ”

“ the more that you say, the less I know. ”

“ i'm begging for you to take my hand. ”

“ life was a willow and it bent right to your wind. ”

“ i could feel you sneakin' in. ”

“ you are a mythical thing. ”

“ i come back stronger than a '90s trend. ”

“ wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark. ”

“ show me the places where the others gave you scars. ”

“ anywhere else is hollow. ”

champagne problems.

“ you booked the night train for a reason. ”

“ bustling crowds or silent sleepers, not sure which is worse. ”

“ i dropped your hand while dancing. ”

“ your mom's ring is in your pocket, my picture is in your wallet. ”

“ your heart was glass and I dropped it. ”

“ you told your family for a reason. ”

“ you couldn't keep it in. ”

“ no one's celebrating. ”

“ your hometown skeptics called it champagne problems. ”

“ love slipped beyond your reaches. ”

" this dorm was once a madhouse. "

“ don't think we'll say that word again. ”

“ sometimes you just don't know the answer. ”

" she would've made such a lovely bride. ”

“ what a shame she's fucked in the head. ”

“ she'll patch up your tapestry that I shred. ”

gold rush.

“ eyes like sinking ships on waters, so inviting I almost jump in. ”

“ i don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch. ”

“ everybody wants you. ”

“ everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. ”

“ i don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bones crush. ”

“ what must it be like to grow up that beautiful ? ”

“ i see me padding across your wooden floors. ”

“ it fades into the gray of my day-old tea. ”

“ it could never be. ”

“ my mind turns your life into folklore. ”

“ i can't dare to dream about you anymore. ”

“ the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure. ”

'tis the damn season.

“ If I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would have asked you. ”

“ it's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass. but I felt it when I passed you. ”

“ there's an ache in you. ”

“ but if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me. ”

“ you could call me "babe" for the weekend. ”

“ the road not taken looks real good now. ”

“ the holidays linger like bad perfume. ”

“ you can run, but only so far. ”

“ i escaped it too. ”

“ remember how you watched me leave ? ”

“ now I'm missing your smile. ”

“ hear me out, we could just ride around. ”

“ i won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay. ”

“ i wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm faking. ”

“ the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own. ”

“ we could call it even, even though I'm leavin'. ”

tolerate it.

“ i notice everything you do or don't do. ”

“ you're so much older and wiser. ”

“ if it's all in my head tell me now. ”

“ tell me I've got it wrong somehow. ”

“ i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it. ”

“ i greet you with a battle hero's welcome. ”

“ i take your indiscretions all in good fun. ”

“ while you were out building other worlds, where was I? ”

“ where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? ”

“ i made you my temple, my mural, my sky. ”

“ i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. ”

“ always taking up too much space or time. ”

“ you assume I'm fine. ”

“ what would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins. ”

“ took this dagger in me and removed it. ”

no body, no crime.

“ he did it. ”

" it smells like infidelity. ”

“ that ain't my merlot on his mouth. ”

“ i think I'm gonna call him out. ”

" i think he did it, but I just can't prove it. "

“ no body, no crime. ”

“ i ain't lettin' up until the day I die. ”

“ his mistress moved in. ”

“ there ain't no doubt. ”

“ somebody's gotta catch him out. ”

“ i've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene. ”

“ they think she did it, but they just can't prove it. ”

“ i wasn't lettin' up until the day he died. ”

happiness.

“ i see this for what it is. ”

“ all the years I've given Is just shit we're dividin' up. ”

“ i can't face reinvention. ”

“ i haven't met the new me yet. ”

“ there'll be happiness after you. ”

“ there was happiness because of you. ”

“ there is happiness past the blood and bruises. ”

“ haunted by the look in my eyes. ”

“ leave it all behind. ”

“ tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk? ”

“ when did all our lessons start to look like weapons? ”

“ i hope she'll be your beautiful fool. ”

“ no, I didn't mean that. ”

“ i can't see facts through all of my fury. ”

“ there'll be happiness after me. ”

“ in our history, across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise dappled with the flickers of light. ”

“ i can't make it go away by making you a villain. ”

“ no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you. ”

“ now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head. ”

“ after giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that? ”

dorothea.

“ do you ever stop and think about me?”

“ you got shiny friends since you left town. ”

“ i got nothing but well-wishes for you. ”

“ this place is the same as it ever was. ”

“ it's never too late to come back to my side. ”

“ the stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo. ”

“ and if you're ever tired of bеing known for who you know, you'll always know me. ”

“ you'rе a queen sellin' dreams. ”

“ they all want to be you. ”

“ are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? ”

“ i guess I'll never know. ”

coney island.

“ break my soul in two looking for you. ”

“ if I can't relate to you anymore then who am I related to? ”

“ did I close my fist around something delicate? ”

“ did I shatter you? ”

“ sorry for not making you my centerfold. ”

“ lost again with no surprises. ”

“ it gets colder and colder when the sun goes down. ”

“ what's a lifetime of achievement If I pushed you to the edge? ”

“ you were too polite to leave me. ”

“ will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care? ”

“ sorry for not winning you an arcade ring. ”

“ were you waiting at our old spot? ”

“ did I leave you hanging every single day? ”

“ did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey? ”

“ the sight that flashed before me was your face. ”

ivy.

“ i'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones. ”

“ your touch brought forth an incandescent glow. tarnished, but so grand. ”

“ i just sit here and wait, grieving for the living. ”

“ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand. ”

“ i can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland. ”

“ my house of stone, your ivy grows. and now I'm covered in you. ”

“ i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed. ”

“ your opal eyes are all I wish to see. ”

“ clover blooms in the fields. ”

“ what would he do if he found us out? ”

“ he's gonna burn this house to the ground. ”

“ i'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time. ”

“ so tell me to run, or dare me to sit and watch what we'll become. ”

“ it's a goddamn blaze in the dark. ”

“ it's the goddamn fight of my life. ”

cowboy like me.

" dancin' is a dangerous game. "

“ now I know I'm never gonna love again. ”

“ i've got some tricks up my sleeve. ”

“ takes one to know one. ”

“ you're a cowboy like me. ”

“ i never wanted love, just a fancy car. ”

“ i could be the way forward. ”

“ the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up. ”

“ the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one. ”

“ now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon. ”

“ forever is the sweetest con. ”

long story short.

“ i tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me. ”

“ the knife cuts both ways. ”

“ if the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break. ”

“ i fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. ”

“ long story short, it was a bad time. ”

“ i always felt I must look better in the rear view. ”

“ missing me at the golden gates they once held the keys to. ”

“ but if someone comes at us this time, I'm ready. ”

“ i wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things. ”

“ your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing. ”

“ rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. ”

“ long story short, I survived. ”

marjorie.

“ never be so kind that you forget to be clever. ”

“ never be so clever that you forget to be kind. ”

“ what died didn't stay dead. ”

“ you're alive, so alive. ”

“ never be so politе that you forget your power. ”

“ nevеr wield such power that you forget to be polite. ”

“ if I didn't know better I'd think you were listening to me now. ”

“ you loved the amber skies so much. ”

“ and if I didn't know better I'd think you were singing to me now. ”

closure.

“ it's been a long time. ”

“ seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain. ”

“ it wasn't right, the way it all went down. ”

“ i got your letter. ”

“ i know that it's over, I don't need your closure. ”

“ don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled. ”

“ i'm fine with my spite, my tears, my beers and my candles. ”

“ i know I'm just a wrinkle in your new life. ”

“ it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary. ”

evermore.

“ i replay my footsteps on each stepping stone trying to find the one where I went wrong. ”

“ i was catching my breath. ”

“ i had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore. ”

“ I can't remember what I used to fight for. ”

“ you cannot think of all the cost and the things that will be lost. ”

“ can we just get a pause? ”

“ is there a line that I could just go cross? ”

“ when I was shipwrecked I thought of you. ”

“ in the cracks of light I dreamed of you. ”

“ it was real enough to get me through. ”

“ i swear you were there. ”

#sentence meme #sentence memes #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #rp meme #ask meme #roleplay meme #lyrical meme #lyric meme #memes by j

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aquilaofarkham · 3 years

Photo

title: mishpachah rating: T+ word count: 3,085 summary: Five years after rebuilding the manor—and the birth of a new Belmont into the world—Trevor decides to share an old recipe with his newfound family.

For @fibulaa 💛 Thanks so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

The first bread Trevor Belmont ate while living his newly orphaned vagabond life was so dry it cut at the inner walls of his throat. He swallowed each bite with grimace after grimace, knowing that despite the pain, the already hardened child of thirteen could stave off starvation for a little while longer. Until he tasted the faintest tinge of copper on his ruined tongue.

Putting those years far behind, he now stands in front of a wooden counter, blurry eyed and with a yawn reminiscent of a sun drunk cat. It seems clean at first glance but in every corner Trevor notices fragments of past meals which he tried wiping away once they were finished and placed on a more pristine table meant for family. Bits of salt, half minced vegetables, and crumbs of bread much softer than the ones belonging to a later childhood he would rather forget. This kitchen, warm in its early morning sunlight, was the final instalment of the manor, newly risen from the ashes. Or rather, simply rebuilt thanks to the calloused, blistered, and splintered hands. No more ruined stone, no more fire blackened beams holding together little less than an architectural skeleton. The somewhat mirror image of Trevor’s lost home has been faring better than the castle. Too many memories, fresh, ranging from bitter to incomprehensible.

Slowly, he grows conscious of his surroundings and his own self. A continuing habit of being the first to wake not just in this manor hold but in life. Reluctantly opening his eyes prior to dawn covering the landscape while still traveling alone only to drag a pair of worn boots back along a similar muddy road. Trevor never wanted to wake up before the sun. He just couldn’t bear to stay in the same place for much longer whether due to the laundry list of dangers or more often than not, his newfound hatred of whichever backwater hamlet he unfortunately found himself in.

He’s happy to wake up early. Happy to never feel a need to leave or escape, happy to know that lack of food replaced with pints of liquid pleasure mixed with death will never plague him again. Happy to prepare breakfast in a hot iron pot over a well stoked fire. What he thought he lost forever has come back, along with new additions to the family he’s carved out.

Another presence bounds her way into the kitchen and ambushes Trevor from behind. He’s not old—not yet, he’ll give it time—but years of drinking have made their permanent stay, dulling the more acute senses. Makes it easier for a five-year-old to catch him off guard. Trevor’s eyes bolt open as tiny arms hold him in a tight cage.

“Good morning, papa!”

His ears ring at the sound of Mirele’s loud voice, but at least he won’t have to worry about nodding off. He stares down at the youngest Belmont who looks as though someone had split Trevor and Sypha straight down their centres into four pieces and sewed each differing half onto the other in order to create a new person. A homunculi of messy dark chocolate hair, bright eyes shining with blue ice, full rosy cheeks somehow conspicuously smeared with some sort of dirt or jam, and enough energy to wear out an electric powered jackrabbit.

“How’s my little monster doing this morning?” Everything Trevor says is laced with his own personal touch of affection and Mirele loves it.

“Mama and papa are still asleep. Help me wake them up! Pleaseeee?”

This doesn’t surprise him; Sypha has always preferred to savour her last moments of sleep longer than normal and Alucard is… well, Alucard.

“Tell you what.” Trevor places a lid onto the simmering pot with a heavy clank. “While this heats up for our breakfast, we’ll go wake up those lazy bones.”

“Right!” Hand in smaller hand, the two make their way upstairs into the shadowy master bedchamber. Curtains drawn with only a sliver of light cutting its singular path across the floor and over two distinct lumps covered by blankets and furs. They seem conjoined, linked in each other’s arms, unaware that a third party has been missing for long enough. Mirele plunges into the room first, jumping onto the bed as all children do when parents refuse to join the land of the conscious. She playfully shoves and cuddles her way between the two bodies who sink deeper beneath the covers, lazily moaning like ghosts.

“Mama! Papa! Wake up! It’s time to get up!”

Trevor hopes that his tactic of throwing open the weighted curtains works in a more effective manner. Listening to the rising chorus of wordless protests coming from behind, he’s pleased with the results. “Never thought I would be the one setting a good example for our daughter.”

“Do not get cheeky, especially this early.” Sypha’s response spills out like running water. It’s clear her mind isn’t quite all there yet. But she can scoop Mirele into her arms, find every ticklish spot, and illicit giggles that only canines might hear. “At least we both know how to have fun, right my sweet?”

“Vampires… nocturnal…” A deeper, muffled voice emerges from under one of the pillows.

“Something you’d like to share with us, Alucard?” Trevor quips, amused at how the other father of the household can never seem to shake off his morning dishevelment. Perhaps sleeping in a coffin would help—a very large one so he doesn’t have to be alone. Alucard reluctantly removes the pillow as tangled heaps of gold fall over his face.

“Vampires are supposed to be nocturnal. Would you rather I burst into ashes upon contact with the sun? Think of our girls, Trevor.”

“We’ve all seen you in the sun before, it’s about as dangerous as a clove of garlic.”

“I have my own means of physical protection. Far beyond your measly human comprehension, love.”

“Personally, I’ve been able to comprehend you plenty.”

Mirele stares up at Sypha, her bushy brows furrowed. “What does… comp… sshhheshion mean?”

“It’s just another word your fathers use whenever either of them want to feel smart.”

Alucard gives Sypha a gentle pinch on either side of her abdomen. “I thought you were on my side.”

“What about my side?” Trevor asks, excelling at the greatest strength he possesses—the ability to never take anything seriously, only when he must.

“I’m hungry,” Mirele speaks up. “Hungry and bored. Can we eat now?”

This life is not normal, but then again it is. It always has been for them. Normal once meant coming together because of violence, encroaching darkness, and some flimsy prophecy stringing them along one dead body at a time. A prophecy which never said what had to be done after they followed it to the hard earned letter. Perhaps that’s why Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard floundered afterwards. No instruction on how to live their upturned lives.

Fuck prophecy.

They made this life by their own standards and in accordance with their own desires. They loved how they wanted to love and no prophecy could have foreseen Mirele. How she calls for her father while both Trevor and Alucard turn their heads at the same exact second. How she quickly calms herself when presented with a bowl of warm oatmeal drowning in honey and wild fruits hand plucked from the surrounding forest. But it’s not enough. Nothing ever is for someone always growing, always wanting more from life at such a young age.

“Can I have bread?”

Trevor, half way through his bitter coffee, turns to Sypha then Alucard as all three parental figures exchange glances. They haven’t the heart to tell Mirele. No bread at the ready, only the necessary ingredients and a considerable amount of flour bags to blanket Enisala. There’s the option of making it themselves, yet it depends on a certain someone’s capacity for patience.

“How do you feel about baking our own?” Trevor’s voice wavers, which he tries to mask with his characteristic dry tone. It’s been a long time since he’s made bread. Then again, helping the manor cooks was a somewhat selfish endeavour as it meant extra servings for the baby of the Belmonts. Yet his proposal goes over well with Mirele, whose inherited eyes light up at the prospect of trying something new.

“I wanna make bread! Can we? Can we please?”

“When was the last time you baked anything, Trevor?” Alucard asks, genuinely curious and with a healthy dose of skepticism. “You still won’t tell us much about anything concerning your former life, let alone the sort of foods your family ate.”

Trevor feels a twinge in his gut—still better than a punch. His two lovers, even his daughter, they only know of his mother; a matriarch in her own right. They know her name, the monsters she killed, and not much else. Trevor’s excuses: he doesn’t remember anything about her, despite the fact that he does. He didn’t know her for very long or very well, so there’s no point in missing her. Trevor did know Sonia and he does miss her, sometimes more than he can handle. Then the easiest excuse: it’s just another self-preservation tactic.

Out of this inner reflection comes an idea. It breaks tradition in a way. For the Belmonts and other Jewish families, everything is passed down through the mother—recipes, forms of worship, blood memories, centuries old tactics of bruising one’s knuckles and temples. Trevor doesn’t think this slight deviation from his culture’s norm will make him any less of what he’s always been. Mirele will simply have to pick up where he left off when she’s grown.

He doesn’t want to think about that now. She’s only five after all. One lesson at a time.

“Alright. Gather round, pupils. The bread we’re making isn’t just any bread. Forget everything you know and everything you’ve been taught because this will be the closest thing to heaven you’ll ever taste.”

“How dramatic…” Sypha mutters under her breath. Alucard joins her amusement with a subdued chuckle.

“I believe you were partially his influence.”

Trevor knows how much trouble he’ll be in if he puts Mirele through the most agonizing cruelty of waiting a second longer than necessary. Fearful of her pint-sized wrath, he gives everyone the order to start gathering ingredients: flour, eggs, honey, and some indulgent herbs to make this particular bread something special. As much of a strategic leader in the kitchen as he is when the world is coming to an end. With everything spread out on the countertops, Trevor guides his family step by step through the only recipe he remembers. He calls this bread “challah”, which Mirele immediately strains her freshly green vocal chords, trying to pronounce the word exactly as her father does. She quickly gives up and focuses on mixing the ingredients with an intense look—almost to a fault as bits of sloppy dough fly out of the bowl. Good. This enthusiasm is what Trevor wants to see.

Kneaded and allowed time to rise, the next step is the most important. Trevor divides the dough into four halves, then again, and again until each participant has their own handful of raw unbaked strips.

“We have to braid them?” Mirele asks following his explanation.

“That’s right. It’s what makes this bread different from all the rest.”

“Just like when papa let’s me braid his pretty hair!”

Every pair of eyes turns to Alucard, whose smile widens in that way which causes his eyes to shut tightly. Fangs happily bared as he pulls Mirele into his flour and dough covered arms while she giggles in delight. After they all return to work, her loaf turns out the same way as the braids she gives to him—lopsided, uneven, lacking a few outsticking stray hairs, but filled with affection and genuine resolve.

Three loaves are placed into the oven, including a fourth crudely constructed but still adequately done piece. Mirele is now more willing to play the waiting game—so she claims. Sitting in front of the oven while staring directly into its insides, utterly fascinated, oblivious to her surroundings. Unaware that her three parents are whispering behind her back. Eventually, Sypha has to gently pull her away with her bottom dragging along the kitchen floor.

“How about you and I do something a little more interesting while your fathers keep watch over things.”

“But what about the c… the calla!”

“Don’t worry, they will look after it. And we are not going far, my sweet.”

“We’ll make sure nothing burns down.” Trevor assures, despite it being Sypha who usually revels in cinders and ashes, intentionally or not.

The two retreat down the corridor past diamond shaped stained windows and into one of the manor’s smaller libraries where the cabinets reach the high ceiling painted in deep blue hues. Scattered from corner to corner are constellations of stars and midnight clouds obscuring each phase of the moon. Once when Alucard found Mirele curiously asleep atop a number of pillows when she should have been in her own bed, it was his decision to paint the library in new colours. Sypha moves aside an entire shelf of thick volumes as though trying to find a carefully hidden switch that will lead them into a secret chamber. It’s what Mirele hopes but turns mildly disappointed when the books do not in fact magically shift to reveal a stone passageway. Her soured anticipation is only countered when Sypha places a box on the desk.

“Can you guess what’s inside?”

“Is it treasure?”

“Close! You are almost right.” Sypha opens the lid just as Pandora did except there are no horrors, no evils to be wrought upon humanity. Mirele peeks inside and her eyes shine with the glistening silver of trinkets, pendants, and talismans. She resists the innate urge to reach her hands, still white with flour, into the box only to briefly experience the sensation of holding one between her fingers. Even children know when something is sacred.

“These belonged to your grandparents. They used them for protection and strength. A long time ago, before you were born, their home burned down and everything was destroyed.”

“Papa’s home?”

Sypha nods, grateful that this story now has its happy ending, slight as it may be. “However, when your other father started building the manor we live in, he found this box trapped amongst all the rubble. It managed to survive.”

“What do they say?”

Mirele points to one pendant molded in the shape of a sword. Inscribed along the curve of its ash-riddled blade are the Hebrew names of angels which must have been muttered by Sonia or Gabriel. The longer Mirele stares, attempting to decipher yet another new language, the brighter her cheeks grow red with frustration. Her mother acts quick just as her eyes begin to water.

“It’s alright if you don’t understand what any of them say.”

“I can learn! Please, mama? I promise I’ll study really hard!”

Sypha’s lips curl as Mirele continues her begging. Oh the mind of a child. How quickly it changes.

The kitchen feels hotter, wafting through the air. Enveloping the room and everything caught between its walls. Trevor stands by the oven, a thick cloth ready in his hand. It shouldn’t take much longer. At least there’s no stench of something burning. Almost makes him pine for the days of his family’s massive stone oven and how he would sneak around at night and pick out leftover morsels from inside like an insatiable mouse. Not unlike the actual beasts which he hunted throughout the hallways before moving onto larger prey typical of a Belmonts’ work—or as large as his own runtish body mass could handle.

Minutes of quiet pass, still eyeing the loaves with a keen gaze. Trevor’s concentration soon broken by the feeling of two arms wrapping around his softening yet still robust midsection. Slow and careful, until his back is pressed against an equally broad chest.

“Can I help you?” He asks as Alucard buries his face into the curvature of his shoulder blades.

“You’re already helping.” The dhampir, unchanging in his physical appearance (a revelation both Trevor and Sypha refuse to acknowledge for the time being), tightens his embrace.

“Something wrong?”

“No… I just enjoy feeling how much softer and warmer you’ve become.”

Trevor’s cheeks blush ever so pinker and not because of the oven’s heat. By now he should be used to Alucard’s sudden bouts of outward affection.

“You even smell better.”

There it is. Trevor thought he would be waiting forever to hear that little jab, though said with nothing but a good heart.

“That might be the herbs you’re smelling.”

Alucard shifts around so that the two of them are side by side, cheek to cheek, as he chuckles in Trevor’s ear. “Come here.”

He doesn’t offer a kiss, not where Trevor was expecting. Instead of his lips, Alucard singles out every patch of stray flour on his face, kissing, wiping, even licking them clean. Cheek, jawline, and nose. Trevor’s expression twists into a ticklish, surprisingly delighted facade.

“You’re a half vampire, not a cat.”

“Better to clean you now than later.”

“Always so fucking odd…”

“You love it.”

Much to his lucky stars, Trevor manages one curse mere seconds before Sypha and Mirele return. They let their daughter speak at a breakneck speed neither one can fully comprehend—something about silver pieces and whether they can teach her a new language—until one series of questions finally sticks.

“Is the bread ready yet? Can we eat it now? Can we please?”

Trevor placates Mirele by revealing the fruits of their joint hard earned labour: four freshly baked and perfectly shined challah loaves each representative of whoever did the braiding. She bounces in her chair before simmering down to an excited tremble once Trevor warns her of how they need to cool. In order to make this more of a meal, he rummages about in search of two other beacons from his childhood. He’s rewarded with one of the few fresh apples they have left while Sypha, ever in tune with his inner thoughts, grabs another small pot of honey for him.

Trevor thanks her by gently running his palm across her lower abdomen, over the growing bump. He keeps it there for just a second longer, a subtle gesture of love noticed by Sypha. Fingertips intertwined with each other, they join Alucard and Mirele at the table as the midday sun shines golden through the windows.

#castlevania #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #alucard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #trephacard #my writing #*cvfic #jewish trevor

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house-of-galathynius · 3 years

Text

Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Eight: Distractions

Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Nine

@aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @fredweasleyhasadhd @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas If you’d like to be tagged, just let me know :)

Aelin tried to busy herself in the coming days. She would wake just as the sun bathed the palace in its soft glow; when the world was still and all was quiet. She would leave her rooms, and would run for miles, until her lungs were burning and her legs sore. She would bathe and eat breakfast in her room, usually on her own, but sometimes with Aedion or Lysandra. No one mentioned Rowan or their curiosity to what had happened.

Aelin had not gone back to training with her magic, something always feeling off, like she was missing a piece of herself— it wasn’t hard to figure out what that could be— nonetheless she avoided using it.

The days meandered on, passing by with little excitement. Her afternoons were spent looking after the other Whitethorn family members or joining Orlon in meetings. Aelin found the monotony of meetings kept her mind from wandering too far into itself— they kept her from thinking of the gaping hole that was left in the absence of Rowan.

It had been nine days since his departure and she couldn’t deny the ache in her chest. She still did not know the real reason for his leaving. Endymion had said it was urgent business, but wouldn’t state what business, and Sellene wouldn’t even see Aelin alone, only acknowledging her existence at dinners or to deliver glum looks in passing. So Aelin tried to forget, giving herself no time or opportunity to sulk over Rowan or Sam.

The weekend proved difficult when she couldn’t busy herself with court dealings, but she found solace in Lysandra and their rides through the mountains. Which is where she found herself, bundled up in fur and leathers, teeth trembling at the bitterly cold wind that was blowing against the two of them as they made their way up the steep mountain path.

“Tell me again why this was a good idea?” Lysandra said. Her voice muffled by the maroon scarf she had wrapped up to her nose.

“It’s good to get fresh air. Plus the sunsets are beautiful from up here at this time of year.” Aelin could feel her toes going numb, she’d already lost the feeling in the tips of her fingers.

Lysandra let out a huff, her sandy horse doing the same. “I could’ve been curled up by the fire devouring the almond tart that Aedion got me.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. She would never admit it to Lysandra, but she too, wanted to be bundled by the crackling fire with a good book and a hot cup of tea. She would never admit it though.

“It’s only a few minutes longer, Lys.” She could already see the final curve in the road that led to a ruined temple; abandoned hundreds of years ago, but still in good enough condition to go in and watch the sun as it would flood the inside with a golden glow. She imagined the temple was built there for that specific reason.

“Is there a reason you’re not heating us both up with your fire? I could really do with that right about now.”

Lysandra was right of course, but Aelin hadn’t touched her magic, and every time she went to use it, she froze, her magic nowhere to be seen. “We’re building character. It’s good for us.”

“I have plenty of character already.” Lysandra pulled the scarf up higher, her emerald eyes squinting. “Please tell me that’s the top.”

The temple was in front of them now, the grey stone crumbling in places, ivy and plants swallowing the walls in their green claws; winding their way into the cracks and crevices.

“This place is so creepy.” Lysandra hopped of her horse, inspecting their surroundings. “I hate it.”

“Stop being such a baby. There’s literally nothing here Lys.” Aelin followed suit, jumping from her own horse and following Lysandra inside.

The ceilings were high, a huge dome rose above them as they entered the central part of the temple. The floors were once white marble, the walls covered in markings that had become indistinguishable. Tall pillars of stone circled the outer edge of the room, plants curling around them. Aelin could almost imagine the beauty that this once would have been. Towards the other side of the room a tall window stood, the view looking over the meadows and forests that eventually turned into the sparkling waters of the sea. The sun had started sinking into the horizon and Aelin lent on the ledge of the window, basking in the last rays, watching as the sky changed colours.

“Okay, so maybe it was worth it.” Lysandra had come to lean next to her, her friend staring out to the world beyond. The two of them silent as they watched the sun sink lower and lower, disappearing for another day. Lysandra broke the silence first. “I have something to tell you.”

Aelin looked to her, curious.

“I slept with Aedion.” Aelin didn’t reply as Lysandra continued. “We had been into Orynth to go dancing with a few friends. I had planned on leaving earlier, but they all convinced me to stay… so I did.” Lysandra sighed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. But we were the last to leave, and he walked me to my room and I invited him in; and… you know.”

Aelin mulled it over. “You know you could’ve told me sooner. You went dancing last week.”

Lysandra shrugged. “You were preoccupied with Rowan and Sam,” she flinched at the names, but Lysandra continued. “I didn’t want you to think my problems were more important.”

Aelin couldn’t help but let the guilt rise up. “Your problems are just as important!” She faced Lysandra. “I don’t care if my life is a shit-show right now. I will always have time to listen to you. Always.”

Lysandra smiled. “I know, but I’m pretty sure your problems trump mine anyway”

Aelin huffed. “I would much rather not talk about my problems.” She turned back to the sunset. “Have you spoken to Aedion?”

“We haven’t spoken about what happened, if that’s what you mean. But we’ve talked, yes.” Lysandra twirled a strand of hair. “I don’t think he wants to scare me off. I think he’s worried I regret what happened.”

“And do you?” Aelin asked.

“Yes. No… I don’t know.” Lysandra pushed off the window ledge and leant back against the wall. “Everything is so complicated with us. He’s been chasing me for so long… and I’ve finally given in; and now I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She looked at Aelin. “Does he want it to be casual? Does he want to be in a relationship?”

Aelin let out a laugh. “Lys, he literally told you he would marry you one day. I think it’s pretty obvious what he wants.”

She groaned in response. “That doesn’t help! He might have been joking!”

“Gods above. He is in love with you Lysandra! I think he has been from the moment you tried to fight me when we were twelve.”

Lysandra smiled at the memory. “I would’ve won if it hadn’t been for your father interrupting.”

Aelin chuckled, Lysandra had been a force to be reckoned with when she was younger.

The two remained silent for a while longer, dusk falling over the landscape.

“Have you heard from Rowan?”

“No.”

“He’ll come around. You’re mates, he won’t be able to stay away for long.”

Aelin wasn’t so sure about that. “I really messed up. Like catastrophically.”

“It can’t have been that bad.”

“I was practically crawling after Sam, bawling my eyes out, begging him not to leave.” She started to pace. “Rowan just stood there, he just watched as I begged for another man. And when he tried to offer some comfort, I refused. I turned down my own mate because— because…” she didn’t know. Pride? Embarrassment? Stubbornness?

“Sam meant a lot to you, and you didn’t want him finding out about Rowan that way.” Lysandra thought for a moment. “Life is messy and unpredictable; and so maybe this didn’t go exactly the way you planned it. But you’re still here, you still have a family that adore you, friends that would do practically anything for you. You just have to give Rowan time, give Sam time. They’ll both understand eventually.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” She smiled. “You know what? I think with everything that has happened we need a night in the city, just us women. We’ll see if Elide can tear herself away from Lorcan and then we can get absolutely plastered in town and forget all of the crap in our lives.”

“My parents will never let me go out without guards.”

“They can stand at the doors, or sit at another table making sure you’re fine. I don’t care, we just need to let loose, have some fun!”

Aelin hesitated just a second before squeezing her eyes together and letting out a long groan. “Fine. For a couple of hours tops. I want to be in bed by midnight.”

“Anything you wish, old lady.”

Lysandra grabbed Aelin and led her to the horses. The mountains were cloaked in darkness, the night air cold. They rode back to the castle in record speed, Aelin heading straight to her rooms to change. She knew this was a bad idea. Going into the city on the busiest night of the week… going drinking. But maybe it would be a good thing. She could forget about her problems for the night, relax with her friends for the first time in forever. Aelin pulled out the first dress from her wardrobe, an emerald green gown with gold lining the cuffs of the sleeves. She threw off her old clothes and dressed quickly, giving her hair a quick brush letting it fall in golden waves down her back.

Elide was the first to knock on her door. She looked lovely in a simple blue gown, her hair piled on the top of her head, small silver ribbons running through.

“Lorcan was adamant about keeping us safe… so he’ll be chaperoning tonight.”

Aelin barked out a laugh. “He couldn’t bear to let you go?”

“Something like that.” She smiled timidly, moving to the couch. “He won’t bother us.”

Lysandra entered at that moment, her red dress low and revealing. “Are we ready? I could do with some wine.”

Aelin gave a look to Elide, who returned it with her own. The three of them made their way down to the foyer where five guards were waiting, as well as a sullen looking Lorcan, and her parents.

“Remember to stick together.” Her mother said as she fussed over Aelin’s hair. “Don’t drink too much, and please be safe.” She kissed Aelin’s brow.

“Stop fussing! We’ll be fine.” Aelin swatted her mother’s hands away as she looked to her father who was chuckling at her mother.

“Just be careful.”

Elide and Lysandra started to lead the way, the doors of the palace opening to reveal a carriage waiting for them outside.

“Remember to pay your tab! We don’t need a bill being sent here and then having to explain to Darrow why you spent so much gold on wine.” Her father called out as they were climbing into the carriage.

“Did anyone bring any gold?” Lysandra laughed as the doors closed.

Aelin couldn’t help herself but laugh too. Gold had been the last thing on her mind as she had hastily got dressed.

“Looks like we’ll be explaining to Darrow.”

The carriage jolted forward as it began its journey. The city was close enough that it would take only ten minutes at most to reach it. Aelin was excited to go out, despite her reservations, she was looking forward to spending time with her friends. It had seemed that over the last couple of weeks she had neglected them and she had forgotten how nice it felt— to be with people who weren’t foreign royals or generals or mercenaries. She could feel herself starting to relax as they neared the city.

The tavern they had picked was not by any means fancy, nor was it the worst that Orynth had to offer. But it was nice enough, and it had enough privacy that they could sit in a booth and not be bothered by people. As soon as the barmaid saw who was entering the tavern a bottle of their finest wine was brought to their table.

Lysandra lifted her glass. “I’d like to make a toast.”

Aelin and Elide lifted their glasses in unison, waiting for Lysandra to continue. “To my two best friends who I love and adore. Thank you for putting up with me and joining in with my impulsive ideas. Cheers!” She lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip, the others following suit.

They remained in the booth whilst they polished off the first and second bottles of wine. They chatted about everything and nothing. Elide telling them about her newlywed life with Lorcan, whilst Lysandra prattled on about Aedion. Aelin mostly stayed silent, chipping in here and there with jokes or comments. By the end of the second bottle she had started to feel tipsy, her body going light and she found the lure of the music and the dance floor too much to resist. Lysandra and Elide refused at first, claiming they needed more to drink; so Aelin had marched up to the bar and ordered their strongest liquor, taking it back to the table and demanding they all drink.

It didn’t take long for it to kick in; and soon enough they were all up in the middle of the tavern, laughing and spinning to the music. Aelin couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free… so light. The music changed to another upbeat song, Aelin joining hands with Elide and Lysandra, dancing in circles, her head to the ceiling, smiling from ear to ear.

They stayed dancing for a while longer, going back to the table a few times to swig some more wine that they had ordered. Not long after that Elide claimed she was going to be sick if she continued, Lysandra agreeing and the three of them going to sit. A guard came over shortly after exclaiming it was late and they should leave, much to the protests of Lysandra.

So they headed back to the carriage, Lorcan looking relieved that they were finally leaving. Even the guards looked happy at their exit. They scrambled into the carriage, giggling and breathless.

“I am drunk.” Elide said as the carriage pulled away.

“I’m hungry.” Lysandra leant her head against the side of the carriage, her eyes watching the scenery pass.

“We should raid the kitchen when we get back.” Aelin suggested.

“I still want to devour that piece of almond tart Aedion left me.”

“I want to devour Lorcan.”

Lysandra and Aelin stared at Elide, at the words that had left her mouth. Aelin could never remember Elide being so cras, the words so alien from her mouth. She couldn’t help but burst out laughing, Lysandra doing the same.

“Who knew you could say such things, Elide.” The three of them still laughing as the carriage pulled in front of the doors to the palace.

Elide and Lysandra were the first to stumble out, Aelin following. She didn’t pay attention to where she was stepping, and couldn’t stop herself as she tripped on the skirts of her dress and fell face first into the ground, her head smacking against the hard stone.

She didn’t hear much as she remained there, splayed on the ground, her head now pounding. The world was spinning and she could’ve sworn she could smell blood. She heard muffled voices around her, alarmed shouts of guards.

“Someone get a healer. She’s hurt.”

She didn’t respond as she felt herself being picked up, her body heavy and limp as they rushed her up the steps of the palace and inside.

“What happened?” She could hear Orlon as he walked beside whoever was carrying her.

“She fell getting out of the carriage, she’s bleeding. We’re taking her to a healer.”

The words of people around her became hard to decipher as she felt herself going in and out of consciousness, the pounding in her head only increasing.

She didn’t remember the rest as she plunged into darkness.

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birdiefw · 3 years

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TONY STARK | HOME

Summary: Losing your husband was the worst thing that had ever happened to you, but you weren’t about to let him go without trying to get him back.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, implied Stucky (though, you don’t have to see it as that), fluff, Endgame changes.

Word Count: 1,751

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago to try and cope with what happened in Endgame because it literally broke me + there were many things I didn’t like about it. And in this imagine, the compound didn’t get destroyed nor was Morgan born as it works best that way for this imagine.

Sadness.

That was all you felt.

It was like all of the air had been sucked straight out of your lungs while you watched your husband take his last breaths after sacrificing himself for the sake of the universe.

You didn’t know if it was real at first, but when he failed to move despite your loud pleas and sobs that wrecked through your body, your heart tore into millions of pieces and fell into the deepest pit of your stomach where you could no longer feel a single thing. It took everything in your body to not completely crumble right then and there, but with strong arms pulling you up to your feet and into their tight embrace, you crumbled, letting out every emotion you felt through your flow of tears.

Tears of anger, grief, sadness, and every other emotion you felt tumbled down your face and soaked into the fabric of Steve Rogers suit as he held you tightly. You could hear his own sniffles, saddened with the loss of Tony, as was everyone else.

The world would never be the same without Tony Stark—everyone knew that—but none of them would feel the pain of it as much as you.

No matter what anyone said or tried in an attempt to comfort you over the loss of your husband, it meant nothing.

Tony’s funeral had felt like a complete blur for you, dozens of faces mixing together and words never really registering in your mind even if you nodded along or mumbled out a short response. You know you heard them, but your mind was completely blank as was your heart without your husband by your side, whispering in your ear that everything would be alright.

Everyone walked on eggshells around you, not wanting to make you even more sad or be at the wrath of your anger.

You felt terrible for not talking to anyone, but each time you tried, memories of Tony trying to speak his final words to you popped up into your mind and made tears brew in your eyes. You didn’t know what was to come next for you, but alone at the compound where you were meant to be picking up some things, you found yourself aimlessly wandering around the enormous building.

It was something that you and Tony would do in your spare time and when no one else was around, sometimes using that to your advantage to have some fun in the many open spaces with the full risk of being seen or caught. However, you found yourself standing in Scott’s guest room, eyes suddenly locked on some Pym Particles that were placed on his messy dresser.

You hadn’t spoken to Scott much, but he did offer you his condolences and said if you ever needed anything to let him know. The same had been said by the Pym family, having caught you off guard with the known fact Hank Pym had never been the biggest fan of any Stark, but you smiled as a thank you nonetheless. You didn’t even mean to go in Scott’s room—you thought it was Bruce’s—but a small spark inside told you it was meant to be.

Thankfully, the time machine was still around and perfectly intact, Bruce having wanted to keep it to study it for a while. No one besides him paid much attention to it anymore, everyone else having begun to move on with their lives and try to live the life Tony would’ve wanted them to. You, on the other hand, got an idea and found yourself standing in front of the time machine, two vials of Pym particles held in each of your hands, lips tight pursed together and an idea swirling around in your mind.

After Steve returned the stones and came back to live his life with Bucky after he passed the mantle of Captain America to none other than Sam Wilson, they’d all left the time machine alone. Bruce was taking some time to research the particles and how it reacted with the machine, which made you believe that’s why Scott had more of it.

You knew you shouldn’t, but every fiber in your body ached to be with Tony, to see his warm smile, to hear his intoxicating laugh, to feel his gentle touch run along your skin and make your heart flutter. His smile was your favorite thing in the world, and you craved to see it again.

Standing in front of the daunting machine, you sucked in a breath and swiftly turned it on.

You were there when they all went off the first time, taking the infinity stones from the past and returning with them a minute later. You’d watched every move Bruce made, taking note of what he pressed and turned, happy that you’d paid so much attention to it at the time.

You softly smiled to yourself, glancing to the suits that were thrown off to the side; no one planned on using them anytime soon. You quickly snatched two up and rushed up the platform, feeling the suit begin to form over Tony’s AC/DC shirt you were and jeans after you pressed the button, a quiet gasp leaving your lips when it was finished and you had the other stuffed in a case that was clutched in your hand.

You sucked in a sharp breath, glancing down to the particles; you had four with you. One to go, and one to come back. The other two were in case you actually managed to convince Tony to come back with you, but you knew there was a chance he wouldn’t believe you, but still, you wanted them.

You shook out your arms and legs, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to attempt. There were many things that could’ve gone wrong, but the hope of seeing Tony again was enough to push you to do it.

“Y/N? You in here?” A voice called out. Your eyes widened and your head snapped to the side, shock appearing on your features when you saw Tony entering the room. The helmet of your suit slid down, revealing your face to him as he walked closer. He instantly froze, your eyes flicking behind when you saw Bruce Banner following Tony.

Bruce offered you a sheepish smile. “Hey, uh, yeah, I guess I kind of beat you to it.”

Your lips parted, looking back to Tony in utter shock.

He looked so much different, but still the same somehow. He was a little younger, wearing the same shirt you had on, but yours was more worn and faded.

Tears brewed in your eyes and you shakily stepped down from the platform, hand covering your mouth as Tony and Bruce approached you.

Your gaze shifted back to Bruce, slightly lowering your hand and brows furrowed. “But. .how? Why—?”

“I missed him, too,” Bruce admitted. “Besides, our world still needs him, but not as much as you. I’ll give you guys a few minutes.”

Your eyes softened and you sniffled, taking a small step towards Tony. You two had been together ever since he defeated Ivan Vanko and Justin Hammer, having gotten married a little after Peter Parker had managed to web himself into your lives. You’d yet to have any children of your own, always saying you would when the time was right, but things always got in the way of that.

“Oh my god,” you murmured in disbelief.

“Well, it is me. Many people feel that way when meeting me,” he said, causing you to let out a genuine chuckle at his cockiness. Tony sighed, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers together without hesitation. “I’m still not entirely sure what happened. Jolly Green Giant over there wouldn’t give me all the details, but it took some time and he told me a few things that only I would know, and while I did have my doubts, I thought it would be nice to see the future, and of course, you.”

You let out a little laugh, playfully rolling your eyes. “Seriously? That’s why you came here?”

Tony grinned. “Maybe, maybe not. I didn’t really peg you to be one to ruin the past all for—”

Your face slightly faltered when his voice abruptly stopped, concern washing over your features. You opened your mouth to speak, but your eyes followed his gaze, noticing he was staring at your wedding ring that shined on your wedding finger. He slowly looked up to meet your gaze, a small smile working its way onto his lips. “You always did have the best taste,” you softly told him.

Tony beamed, his grin widening. “Yes, I did. But. . .what do you say we get married? I know we already were, but technically that wasn’t—”

“Tony, are you trying to propose to me with the ring your future self already bought?”

“Uh, maybe?”

“You’re such an idiot,” you giggled, pulling into you to give him a hug. You were still sniffling some, but joy was overtaking you.

“But I’m your idiot, right?”

“Of course. Forever and always.” You pulled away, a content sigh leaving your lips. You still couldn’t believe he was standing right in front of you. You allowed your eyes to take in every feature of him, your smile never once faltering. You finally had him back, and he had you. “And, you know, we never actually got to have those kids we wanted. . .”

“Say no more—”

A throat suddenly cleared behind you, your eyes tripling in size at the sight of the woman. “I’m sorry, did I step on your moment?”

Your eyes instantly darted over to Bruce who was off to the side of you and Tony, fiddling with part of the machine. He innocently shrugged his shoulders, timidly grinning as Natasha Romanoff made her way into the room. “Did I forget to mention we brought Nat back, too?”

You laughed, shaking your head.

You finally had your family back.

Tony squeezed your hand, recapturing your attention. “About that family—”

You playfully rolled your eyes and moved forward without a second thought, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. You hands pressed the sides of his face, one of his arms shaking around your waist while the other firmly pressed against your back, pushing your chests’ together. You tightly held him onto him, promising to never let go of him and basking in the joy that Tony Stark, and Natasha Romanoff, were both home.

———

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man #iron man x reader #tony stark imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers #avengers imagine #robert downey jr

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somanysigns-13 · 3 years

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Making my case on why haunted and ghost are Taylor euphemisms for all things gay...long story short, ghosts aren’t typically seen by the general public and they are usually feared by many. Ghosts haunt those that do see them. Part 1

1. Haunted - Speak Now - (Emily Poe or Liz Huett?)

Lyrics: “Come on come on don’t leave me like this I thought I had you figured out. Something’s gone terribly wrong won’t finish what you started. Come on come on don’t leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can’t go back now, I’m haunted.”

Interpretation: She thought what she had with a “girl” friend was more than friendship. The other girl started the relationship or the flirtation and maybe it was more at some point but something got in the way (maybe Taylor’s management team). Taylor fell hard and got her heart broken and now she’s unable to forget about that feeling of being in a relationship with another girl. She’s “haunted” by this feeing.

2. Ours - Speak Now

Lyrics: “Seems like there’s always someone who disapproves. They’ll judge it like they know about me and you. And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do. The jury’s out, but my choice is you.” “You never know what people have up their sleeves. Ghosts from your past gonna jump out at me. Lurking in the shadows with their lip gloss smiles. But I don’t care ‘cause right now you’re mine.”

Interpretation: The management team is aware of the relationship and are trying to decide what to do. If it were up to Taylor she would leave it all behind to be with her girlfriend. She wonders if there are past girlfriends “ghosts” that will come out and ruin what they have especially if they have to keep it hidden. We also have a mention of shadows which make shade and we all know “shade never made anybody less gay.” ;)

3. How You Get The Girl - 1989

Lyrics: “Stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain, rain. She’ll open up the door and say are you insane-ane. Say it’s been a long 6 months. And you were too afraid to tell her what you want, want.”

Interpretation: The lyrical style of this song seems very similar to the song “Innocent” on Speak Now. It feels like a diary entry where Taylor is referring to herself in the story as the “you”. Like that inner voice that can pump you up or put you down. This is the story of Taylor apologizing for pushing away a new potential girlfriend because she’s afraid it’ll end like they have in the past possibly due to her management team and contracts interfering. The ghost here is Taylor being haunted by her past failed attempts at having true love.

4. This Love - 1989

Lyrics: “Your kiss, my cheek, I watch you leave. Your smile, my ghost, I fell to my knees. When you’re young, you just run but you come back to what you need.”

Interpretation: I feel this song is about Taylor falling in love with Karlie, but being so afraid to lose her due to both of their careers. Karlie is optimistic (your smile) but Taylor is apprehensive due to past relationship failures (my ghost) and likely management intervention. As I’ve said in a past analysis of this song, I feel that Taylor has always known that she liked girls but has tried to “run” from those feelings or has been forced to hide them but she knows it’s what she needs to be truly happy. There is also a scene in Miss Americana where she’s a little girl and she says “Okay, this is a song I wrote yesterday. And...it’s about a girl who’s just different. And I really like it because it’s just s-so happy. So this is called “Lucky You” 🎶 There’s this little girl in this little town with a little too much heart to go around. “Live forever, never say never, you can do better” That’s what she says.🎶 Obviously the “different” little girl could be based on her talents or could be that she believes that loving another girl is considered “not normal” in the eyes of many people. Either way how profound for someone that age to recognize that.

5. You Are In Love - 1989

Lyrics: “Morning his place, burnt toast, Sunday. You keep his shirt he keeps his word. And for once you let go of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much but it said enough.

Interpretation: Taylor flips the pronoun here which she doesn’t do often or doesn’t include often. It almost seems like she’s acknowledging that she can make this work by hiding her “ghost”. Her songs can still be about her relationship but the “one step” of using a male pronoun as one of the points of view is enough to maybe appease the management team for now.

6. ...Ready For It - Reputation

Lyrics: “Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him wonder how many girls he had loved and left haunted. But if he’s a ghost then I can be a phantom holdin him for ransom.”

Interpretation: Bearding references. The “boyfriend” is also a “ghost” and she is a phantom (ghost/figment of the imagination) and they can use each other as covers.

7. The Archer - Lover

Lyrics1: “I wake in the night , I pace like a ghost. The room is on fire, invisible smoke. And all of my heroes die all alone, help me hold on to you.”

Interpretation: The fear is back or she’s remembering a time where it almost fell apart due to the rumors. All of her heroes could be referring to female poets from the 1800s (Emily Dickinson, Dorothy Wordsworth) that had to hide their sexuality or use male pseudonyms in order to publish their work and make a living.

Lyrics2: “Cause they see right through me, they see right through me, they see right through the me, can you see right through me. They see right through, they see right through me I see right through me, I see right through me.”

Interpretation: Reminds me of the Indigo Girls song “Closer to Fine”.....“And I went to see the doctor of philosophy, with a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knees. And he never did marry or see a B grade movie, he graded my performance, he said he could see through me.” Also this song begins with “I’m trying to tell you something bout my life. Maybe give me insight between black and white.” and a few lyrics later “And I wrap my fear around me like a blanket, I sailed my ship of safety til I sank it, I’m crawling on your shores.” These lyrics really link to multiple Taylor songs. Also she refers to Indigo eyes in “I Think He Knows”.

8. Death By A Thousand Cuts” - Lover

Lyrics: “Now I’m searching for signs in a haunted club”

Interpretation: perhaps a gay “haunted” dive bar on the East side, where you at?”

9. Cardigan - folklore

Lyrics: “I knew you’d haunt all of my what-if’s The smell of smoke would hang around this long, ‘cause I knew everything thing when I was young. I knew I’d curse you for the longest time, chasing shadows in the grocery line.”

Interpretation: her feelings haunt her because she’s not being true to them. She’s trying to push them away again. The smell of smoke and another shadow reference..she knew the rumors of her and Karlie wouldn’t go away but this time she’s chasing the shadows rather than waiting for something to come out at her from them. (Tabloids ref?)

10. my tears ricochet - folklore

Lyrics: “we gather stones never knowing what they’ll mean. Some to throw some to make a diamond ring. You know I didn’t want to have to haunt you but what a ghostly scene. You wear the same jewels that I gave you as you bury me.”

Interpretation: stones = knowledge/information on someone ..it can hurt or it can be used for good. Maybe Scott and Scooter threatened to out Taylor and Karlie if they didn’t go along with a certain plan. Now Taylor has no choice but to have to make them pay for it.

#taylor swift #kaylor #karlie kloss #gaylor swift #evermore #folkore #speak now #1989 #lyric analysis #ghost #haunted #gay #ghost=gay

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myfanwymusings · 3 years

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TAYLOR SWIFT / EVERMORE

The following is a collection of lyric sentence starters from Taylor Swift’s ninth studio album evermore. Some lyrics have been slightly modified for ease of role-playing. Feel free to change any tense or pronouns. May contain mature content. This has been reposted from my old blog.

WILLOW

I’m rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife

If it was an open-shut case I never would have known from the look on your face

Lost in your current like a priceless wine

The more that you say, the less I know

Wherever you stray, I follow

I'm begging for you to take my hand

I'm begging for you

I can feel you sneaking in

There was one prize I'd cheat to win

They count me out time and time again

Anywhere else is hollow

That's my man

I come back stronger than a '90s trend

Wait for the signal, and I'll meet you after dark

I'll meet you after dark

Show me the places where the others gave you scars

This is an open-shut case

I should’ve known from the look on your face

Hey, that's my man

Yeah, that's my man

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

You booked the night train for a reason

Your heart was glass, I dropped it

You told your family for a reason

You dropped my hand while dancing, left me out there standing

Love slipped beyond your reaches and I couldn't give a reason

This dorm was once a madhouse

Well, it's made for me

Soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls that we once walked through

I never was ready so I watch you go

She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head

Sometimes you just don't know the answer til someone's on their knees and asks you

You won't remember all my champagne problems

GOLD RUSH

I don't like a gold rush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

I can't dare to dream about you anymore

My mind turns your life into folklore

I won't call you out on your contrarian shit

‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON

If I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would have asked you

There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me

But if it's all the same to you it's the same to me

You could call me "babe" for the weekend

We could call it even

Remember how you watched me leave

You can run, but only so far

And the road not taken looks real good now

Hear me out, we could just ride around

The road not taken looks real good now and it always leads to you in my hometown

I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay

I wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm faking'

The heart I know I'm breaking' is my own

Even though I'm leaving' and I'll be yours for the weekend

'Tis the damn season

TOLERATE IT

I notice everything you do or don't do

You're so much older and wiser

If it's all in my head tell me now

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow

I know my love should be celebrated but you tolerate it

I take your indiscretions all in good fun

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky - now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life

I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life

You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins?

Believe me, I could do it

NO BODY, NO CRIME

He did it

Her husband's actin' different, and it smells like infidelity

That ain't my Merlot on his mouth. That ain't my jewelry on our joint account

I think I'm gonna call him out

No, there ain't no doubt

I think he did it, but I just can't prove it

No body, no crime

I ain't letting' up until the day I die

Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen

I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene

She was with me, dude

They think she did it, but they just can't prove it

Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

I wasn't letting' up until the day he died

HAPPINESS

I see this for what it is

All the years I've given is just shit we're dividing' up

I can't face reinvention

There will be happiness after you

There was happiness because of you

Haunted by the look in my eyes that would've loved you for a lifetime

Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk?

I hope she'll be your beautiful fool, who takes my spot next to you

No, I didn't mean that

Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury

You haven't met the new me yet

There will be happiness after me

There was happiness because of me

I can't make it go away by making you a villain

I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties

No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him, too

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness

After giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that?

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness. You haven't met the new me yet and I think she'll give you that

DOROTHEA

Do you ever stop and think about me?

A tiny screen's the only place I see you now

I got nothing but well-wishes for ya

This place is the same as it ever was but you don't like it that way

It's never too late to come back to my side

You're a queen selling' dreams, selling' makeup and magazines

From you I'd buy anything

But are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers?

I guess I'll never know

If you're ever tired of being known for who you know, you'll always know me.

CONEY ISLAND

If I can't relate to you anymore then who am I related to?

And if this is the long haul how'd we get here so soon?

Did I close my fist around something delicate?

Did I shatter you?

Sorry for not making you my centerfold

What's a lifetime of achievement if I pushed you to the edge but you were too polite to leave me?

Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?

Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

We were like the mall before the internet

Were you waiting at our old spot: in the tree line by the gold clock?

Did I leave you hanging every single day?

When I got into the accident the sight that flashed before me was your face

IVY

Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

I just sit here and wait, grieving for the living

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

I wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed

Your opal eyes are all I wish to see

I'd live and die for moments that we stole

What would he do if he found us out?

Dare to sit and watch what we'll become

It's a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it

It's the goddamn fight of my life and you started it

COWBOY LIKE ME

Dancing' is a dangerous game

I'm never gonna love again

I've got some tricks up my sleeve

Takes one to know one

Never wanted love, just a fancy car

You're a cowboy like me

I’m telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear

You're a bandit like me

Never thought I'd meet you here

We could be the way forward and I know I'll pay for it

The skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up

The old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one

Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon

Forever is the sweetest con

LONG STORY SHORT

I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me

I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides

Long story short, it was a bad time

If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

I clung to the nearest lips and long story short, it was the wrong guy

Now I'm all about you

Actually, I always felt I must look better in the rear view - missing me.

If someone comes at us, this time, I'm ready

No more keeping' score, now I just keep you warm

Past me, I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things

Your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing

He feels like home

Long story short, I survived

MARJORIE

Never be so kind you forget to be clever

Never be so clever you forget to be kind

If I didn't know better I'd think you were talking to me now

If I didn't know better I'd think you were still around

You're alive in my head

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, so alive

Never be so polite you forget your power

Nevеr wield such power you forget to be polite

I should've asked you questions

Should've kept every grocery store receipt cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

I know better but you're still around

I still feel you all around

CLOSURE

It's been a long time and seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain

Yes, I'm doing better

I don't need your closure

Yes, I got your letter

Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled

I'm fine with my spite and my tears, and my beers and my candles

I know I'm just a wrinkle in your new life

Staying friends would iron it out so nice

EVERMORE

Gray November, I've been down since July

I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone trying to find the one where I went wrong

I couldn't be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore

Guess I'm feeling unmoored

Can't remember what I used to fight for

Can't not think of all the cost and the things that will be lost

To be certain, we'll be tall again

Is there a line that I could just go cross?

And when I was shipwrecked I thought of you

It was real enough to get me through

I dreamed of you

I swear you were there

I had a feeling so peculiar, this pain wouldn't be for evermore

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

Friends break up

I'm right where you left me

Help

I'm still at the restaurant

I swear you could hear a hair pin drop

What a sad sight...

I felt the moment stop

They expected me to find perspective

Everybody moved on, but I stayed there

You left me no choice

You left me no choice but to stay here forever

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everyone else

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

Breakups happen every day

I was still the one you wanted

If our love died young, I can't bare witness

If you ever think you got it wrong, I'm right where you left me

IT'S TIME TO GO

He's insisting that friends look at each other like that

The words of a sister come back in whispers

She's a crook that was caught

She was not in fact what she seemed

You know when it's time to go

Twenty years at that job, then the boss of the son gets the spot....

Keeping it how it was will only break hearts worse

Sometimes giving up is the strong thing

Sometimes walking out is the one thing that will find you the right thing

Sometimes to run is the brave thing

I gave my all

He gave me nothing at all

He's got my past frozen behind glass but I've got me

You will know in your soul that it's time to go

#inbox memes.#rph #rpc #roleplay memes.#taylor swift lyrics.

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by-wife-of-god · 3 years

Text

AU: Loki survived Thanos' attack on the ship with the people of Asgard, giving him a tesseract.

"I'm not a traitor. I just want to live..."

***

- Thor, you have to talk to him! He's your brother!

Once again he repeats Romanov, but the thunderbolt, as if he can not hear it, shakes his head in delirium.

- My brother is long dead...

He speaks in a whisper, causing goosebumps to run through Wanda's body. She doesn't need to touch him or read his thoughts to understand how painful it is for him to be aware of what happened.

- Suggest to continue to watch how this god betrays us and kisses the ass to this Thanos?

Of all those present, only Sam walked back and forth around the room. His nerves, like many, surrendered, but unlike the rest he could not contain them.

The first battle with the alien ended in his favor, but at what cost? People who became unwitting victims of the war were killed. The soldiers of the Waqanda, devoted to their work, fought to the last beat of the heart, while the powerful hands, no, paws and claws tore out their insides. But their number does not compare with the fallen "guests." A thousand versus a hundred?

- Sam, now is not the best time... - Strange tiredly rubbed whiskey, in the hope that the pain will subside, and the cries of the innocent will be silenced forever.

- Will it ever be the best, Strange? When will one of our comrades die or when the next city will be under ruin?!

- Your cries won't help anything, - Natasha tried to speak coldly, without hints of fear and excitement, but only one person could see in her eyes the horror that she was hiding - and Steve will not return it. We can continue to orsed or decide what the next step will be.

Wilson had no choice but to turn around and walk away.

- Like old-fashioned, - Stark gushed, recalling how he once "escaped" after news of Coulson's death.

- Well..., - began Stefan, but fell silent.

All this time in the far corner stood a black figure with a dredked head. He heard it all. Every word, every angry remark against him, but for the time being was silent.

- Your happiness, Laufeyson, is that he's gone, - Stark said, drawing attention to the silence in the room.

- He's not afraid of me, - he replied dryly.

- Maybe you're not afraid of him, horned, but what about all of us?

- He already has experience in such matters, - Natasha picked up, getting up from her chair and mechanically reaching for the gun.

- I am not an enemy to you or a traitor...

- Then why did you give him the stone?

Loki didn't have to turn to the person who asked the question. He felt the look of his "brother" a mile away, and his thoughts were shared with the trickster. Years of living together have made themselves felt or so called fraternal ties?

- I had no choice, - Loft raised his hand up, not allowing Strange to utter the words, - We had a deal. A couple of years ago I fell into the abyss. Fell for several hours, maybe days - the laugh of the magician did not go unnoticed by God and he had to reward the villain with the despicable look of emerald eyes - until he woke up in a world like yours. Their race consisted of mighty warriors and...

- Get to the point, Loki, - the blonde shook, continuing to hold her hand near the gun in the event of an attack. Reflex, - We know how long your tongue is. Don't pull it.

- I was a prisoner until their leader recognized Odin's son as me. I was too weak to fight back because I had no choice but to give up and accept the persuasion. In exchange for my life, I should attack your world and return the tesseract to its owner. I swear I had no idea why he needed this stone, and how powerful it is! I was forced, bewitched, just as I bewitched your fellows. Everything was against my will, but... I just wanted to live...

In the last words, the voice of the God, the villain and the murderer trembled like a boy in the yard. His head was lowered again and his eyes covered. He surrendered, for the first time admitting his defeat as it should be.

- Perhaps their magic did not completely leave me, but when I was in the basement and saw this cube again. And I succumbed to him, not realizing it. Wouldn't any of you do the same to save your skin?

Looking around the audience, Loki chuckled.

- Of course I would. Just afraid to admit it to yourself. Each of you would like to live, albeit worthless and short, life. You are ready to find an excuse for everything you have done, to blame everyone by hiding your mistakes. Has your curiosity helped you in anything? Without touching the tesseract and not letting him splash out, Thanos would not find him, the reader did not attack. If you hadn't put your experiments on technology, - Loki turned to Anthony, who had long been out of bed - Her family would have been alive - the next second he glanced at Wanda, and then at Vision, - Or did not subject him to death because of his stone in his forehead. In all worlds, any entity has its skeletons in the closet. But their number depends on how far you hide them, trying to forget, let them be covered in dust and disappear. Once someone look into someone's closet, you are looking for the culprit, not noticing the obvious facts. Fear – is a deadly weapon, and you are its prisoners. It is necessary to accept it and the world will fall down until each of you will take the trigger, putting the barrel on your true enemy. Don't any of you want to live?

Silence.

What else could Loki expect from those who pointed the muzzle of the gun to his temple?

- Prove that you're not a traitor, - Sam and Tony demanded in one voice, hanging over the trickster.

- I wouldn't be here. I'm alive until I personally bury Thanos in his shit.

#au #loki laufeyson #the avengers #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #doctor strange #wanda maximoff #vision #thor odinson #tony stark

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

Note

Ma'am- how dares thou leave us off on a cliffhanger for both Empires on the Horizon and Kingdom Collisions V >:L I demand to know whats going to happen next!! (also take your time to write them lol )

Ah my friend you are right I am sorry for being so rude😭👀here's a Kingdom Collisions update. Please forgive me?🥺

Y’all know the drill by now. This is a fic i’m writing to try incorporate more descriptions into my writing. I do not have pre-written chapters so we’re both lost on what comes next or when the next update will be?! Please enjoy!

masterlist

TW: Suicide mention

Kingdom Collisions VI

Once upon a time in a land known for water and jewels there lived a young boy. He had skin the colour of soil and eyes the colour of oceans and were your gaze to ever fall upon this little figure you knew the earth was created just for him. The boy lived in a white-stone castle, surrounded by guards in clanking silver armour and blue-feathered helmets. Swords gleamed with their newness. They are decoration, a rite of passage. They only reflect the water. Children darted between their legs as they swoppeed shifts and if you looked closely the boy was often one of them. The castle stood proud and tranquil in the kingdom and gave the people hope.

If the white walls stand tall the queen will rise above all.

A piece of poetry long since washed away.That single line ran through the city streets like rain water. Ran into people's homes, and under the wheels of rumbling cars. Generations had forgotten the poem to time but that line for it's power and rhyme had weathered the changing tides. If you listened closely the trees still knew the words. But nobody ever heard. The world was too busy and the day too new to remember what it was like to become one with evergreens.

Percy Jackson wakes up with a gasp, heart beating like conga drums. His fingers curl into his chest, leaving red marks as he winces sleep away. The world is still pitch black; stars hidden behind a blanket of storms. He wonders if they find comfort wrapped in the clouds. If those white puffs feel as soft as they look. Sleep is faraway, a distant friend stuck at a cold airport terminal. So he drifts to the window, ignoring the wind prickling his skin and sits down at the bench. The chiffon curtains rustle softly, talking to him in a language he hasn't quite yet learned. He knows they're saying something important. They must be if they brush against his legs every few minutes. Everyone is always trying to tell him something important. Something life changing and groundbreaking. He wishes he could pause time for a little while. Stroll through the gardens and into the ocean without anybody running after him.

The curtain drifts towards him again and he sighs as if the universe has made him designated driver. An unwanted, unwilling task.

Somewhere a bird caws and he snorts softly, "Okay, okay. I'm handling it."

He let's the sounds of the wind take him through the endless corridors, let's it carry him like a dying flower, like autumn leaves, like bonfire embers. The stone floor is cold under his bare feet and his body is littered with bumps. He misses the warmth of his castle. Misses the warmth of the hearth in every room and the smell of the sea that drifts in through open windows. Mostly, especially, he misses his mom. There is something distinctly missing from the Castle of Caelum. He hasn't quite put his finger on it but it doesn't feel right.

He doesn't have time to delve into that thought because all at once everything goes quiet. A large door looms before him.

"So this is it huh?" His voice is soft, afraid to disrupt the silence.

Taking a deep breath, filling up his lungs with the air of the Kingdom of Wind, he knocks on the wood. It is gentle and solitary and he's almost certain no-one heard it but his ears perk up anyway. He knows you can't pick up footfalls on stone but it doesn't stop his heart from racing in anticipation. The door opens with a soft click and tired eyes look at him.

"Percy," Jason's voice is raspy with crying and his heart shatters.

"Hey, can I come in?"

The blonde looks at him, brows furrowed and tear stains carved into his cheeks. Percy can see the tiredness in the prince's bones, like x-rays of exhaustion. He's about to say nevermind, about to walk away, walk past his own chambers and into the lifeless night. But the Prince nods once and moves aside.

He feels almost disappointed that he couldn't escape. Disappointed he couldn't just go back and never return. His mother's voice flitters into his head.

When your people are suffering you must lie down with them and ask them to tell you their story.

Why mom?

Because little one when the time comes you will know what to do.

How momma?

We are made of stories little one. We are made of all the things people tell us. Our dreams and hopes and memories are just threads in a tapestry and every person is connected to it.

I don't understand momma?

She smiled at him, perfect white teeth and dark blue eyes: When you think of me little one, what comes to mind?

Ten year old Percy frowned, Chocolate chip cookies, and your bedtime tales, and the beach, and hugs.

And what do you think about Grover?

Percy's green eyes had lit up like the sun: Play time and movies and ice-cream!

She laughed: And what about Dad?

His little brows furrowed: Fancy clothes and swords and paper and cuddles.

And Princess Piper?

His nose scrunched up: Cooties! He squealed and then he was running around the room; the world a flowing river, him a little fish learning its current.

You see little one, you didn't think about bones or skin or blood. You thought of memories and stories. Do you understand now?

He nodded as he scrambled into her lap: I think so momma. So if my people tell me who they are I can use their stories to help them when they're sore?

Almost little one. Half of hurt is because nobody listens. If you just listen to what your people are saying they will not hurt so much.

Is that because we have to tell our stories momma?

"Exactly. That is how we live. And live on."

Prince Perseus Jackson takes a deep breath and steps into the room. Immediately he can feel the icy wind, so much colder up here, stinging his bare arms, chest, legs. Save for the small silk boxers covering his most sensitive parts his body is exposed to the brutal temperatures and he cannot hide a shiver as he settles on the couch. The fire has died long ago, maybe not even put on for the night, if the grey ashes and lack of heat are indication enough.

"What are you doing here?" The blonde prince looks at him.

"The curtains told me to come."

"What?" He can hear the confusion, but more than that the weight of a thousand heartaches.

He wonders if every person who has their heartbroken feels like they're the first to ever go through it. If that feeling is so perfectly human it feels unique and special to each one.

"Sometimes the world talks to me and sometimes I listen."

"I don't really know what game you're playing but I'm not in the mood so if it isn't an emergency," Those eyes are ice blue, "And I honestly wouldn't care even if it was, please get out."

"I cannot." He shrugs and pulls a velvet blanket over him.

"I'd appreciate," Jason's teeth grit, "If you respected my boundaries enough to leave. I am not in the mood."

"The window is open, there is paper sitting on the desk and many crumpled pieces on the floor, and I can see you haven't even sat on your bed, never-mind slept in it. What do you plan to do Grace?"

"You know what." That voice is hard, malicious with fear, pain.

"I will not leave. And you will not either. You can sit there on your bed hating me till the sun graces us once more. You can punch me until I am the same colour as the dusk but I am not leaving."

"I hate you. Leave me alone." He can hear the tears hit the cold stone. He doesn't react. A shadow blocks the moonlight finally peaking through the clouds.

"I said leave me the fuck alone!"

"I cannot do that Prince."

"Don��t call me that." He snaps, pushing his face into Percy's, "Go away! I want to be alone."

"I can't Jason,"

"JUST LEAVE!" Golden fists pound at his chest, droplets of salt soaking into his skin, as if trying to wash away the bruising.

He grabs his husband's hands gently and pulls him to the couch.

"I'm not going to leave you."

"They all left." Jason gasps, "They left. HE LEFT!"

The scream draws blood from his ears, pulls oxygen from his veins.

"I'm here. I'm not leaving. I am here."

"Please," Sobs wrack that broken body, and Percy can feel the first cracks in a kingdom. "Please don't leave me. Please, please please."

He rubs his hand over a shaking back and mutters over and over again, "I will not leave you."

Prince Jason Grace cries a new ocean and he names it after the fire that caused it. When the sun peaks over the horizon, fracturing a wall of crystal, and attempting to warm those cold grey stones, Percy Jackson takes his husband to bed and ignores the fissures running under his feet.

Once upon a time in a kingdom known for storms and gold there lived a little boy. He had eyes of lightning and skin the colour of sunlight and if you ever caught a glimpse of him you knew only the darkest nights could ever produce something so beautiful. The guards are bathed in riches, weighed down by diamonds cut from dreams and earrings weighted with the pureness of gold. Swords are varied and prized. Bred for fodder. Used at will. He lived in a castle made of grey stone and it loomed over the kingdom like a black cloud. The people looked at it and shied away. For they too had a poem about their crown but they remembered every line.

Those who fell under the shadow of stone were sure to be left to ruin by their king and cursed forever alone. A young boy with hair spun from starlight is trapped inside. Who will save him if he cannot hide?

Forgetting was a death warrant.

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

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@nishlicious-01

@queen-of-demons-and-hell

@leydiangelo

@sparkythunderstorm

@asami-sato-has-never-sinned

#Kingdom Collisions #Part 6 #Baby fanfic #Baby fanfic series #PJSSG fanfic #PJSSG series #Jercy #Jercy royalty AU #Royal jercy #Jason grace #Percy Jackson #PJSSG asks #Ciara's Convos #She speaks #This ask made me so happy!!!#Thank you for being invested #don't ask me what direction this is supposed to be going in becaue i have zero ideas #we just vibing #it be like this sometimes

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fear-before-valor · 4 years

Note

💫

(Thank you again for your help with the trollish, by the way!!)

Tranz by Gorillaz

When you get back on Saturday night And your head is caving in Do you look like me, do you feel like me Do you turn into your effigy?

Jim stared into his bathroom mirror, where a crack remained that had never been repaired. He traced over his own doing with a very human fingertip, though he’d made the crack with, at the time, stone hands, instead of the warm ones that he was peering at now. The crack had split the mirror down the middle, and spiderwebbed into smaller offshoots that weren’t quite enough to completely distort his reflection; they were only just enough to make something look Not Right. Though, to be fair to the mirror, every time Jim had seen himself since even as far back as Eternal Night— and really, was that even that long ago? Or did it only feel that way?— something had felt Not Right. Capital N, capital R, Not Right. He’d seen it in everyone’s faces; in the brave way his mother had tried to hide her fear and worry behind support, but he could tell. He’d always been able to tell, with her. And Toby. And Blinky, after a while. He’d seen the worried faces of his family who tried to be strong for him, like he tried to be strong for them. But no amount of strength could hide when something uncontrolled in their faces blanched for just a moment, when they’d looked at him, just for a split second too late for them to cover it up.

It was one thing he definitely didn’t miss, from his time as a troll.

He wasn’t sure he even could say he missed it at all, though, if he was being honest. He’d never really asked for the form; only accepted it because it was what had been expected of him.

He supposed, if he did miss anything from it, though, he missed how utterly invincible he’d felt.

…Well.

Until he hadn’t anymore, when he was stabbed through his armor—through his heart—and suddenly he hadn’t felt so helpless in his life, as his own mind had turned traitor.

Jim never thought he’d approach anything like the singular sensation of even seeing his own effigy. Though, to be fair, he still hadn’t.

He hadn’t seen his own effigy.

He’d become it.

Do you dance like this? Forever

He could feel stone crumbling, as he met his own eyes in the mirror; he could feel his own skin crumbling, as his terror stared at him back. He could feel his own body crumbling— I’m dying…! He’d thought. I’m dying and Claire has to watch—

and then he felt the soft vibration of his phone at his hip. Three quick buzzes, a pause between them, three more buzzes, a pause between them, three more, and a pause, and Jim almost missed the green ‘accept’ button.

He raised his phone to his ear, forgetting to look at who it was.

“Jim? Where are you? My mom is demanding pictures, and my dad can only stall for so long!”

Claire.

When Jim opened his mouth to answer back, he was surprised to feel a smile stretched over his lips— he hadn’t even known he’d started to do that. He was quiet for a moment, just smiling, listening to the muffled commotion of Ophelia Nuñez nigh on a warpath, and her husband who had the distinct sound of a father trying to quiet a rambunctious toddler, while also attempting to have a civil conversation with his wife, all at the same time.

And it struck Jim.

It was so normal. So, incredibly normal. Even hearing NotEnrique chime in once in a while, sounding remarkably delighted by the chaos, was so blessedly normal, that Jim’s smile threatened to turn into a beam.

Claire had apparently gotten worried at his lack of response, however, and said, uncertainly, “…Jim? Are you there?”

He snapped back to the present. “Oh. Hey, Claire. Sorry; uh, I was having trouble fixing my—” he’d meant to decide if he was going to say his tie, or his hair, but instead it came out as, “Hairtie. I mean—”

Claire cut him off, a soft giggle chiming through his phone speaker, which set his heart spiraling. “Your hairtie, huh? Well, hurry up beauty queen, or we’re going to be late. You know between my mom and yours, we’re going to take centuries to be done with photos, and that’s not even taking into account when we meet up with Toby and the others, and their parents. It’s gonna be a brigade of parents, Jim!”

Jim chuckled, supposing that he wasn’t quite as unhappy about that as he perhaps should be. “Okay, okay. I’m on my way.” He said, and after a hushed ‘I love you,’ from Claire— who would never live it down if she was caught saying such a thing at seventeen— and a sickeningly sweet ‘I love you’ from himself in return, Jim hung up the phone, and slipped it back into his slacks pocket.

In his defense, he really had been trying to fix his hair, before he’d had his… episode. Now, he stared at it, and decided it was a hopeless cause due to the sheer amount of ruffles it would get from his mom alone, and so reached to grab his suit coat, instead. Pulling it on, he exited the bathroom, and just as he was about to slide down the railing, a hand caught him by the back of his collar.

“Now, Young Atlas, I do hope you were decidedly not going to risk ruining your dress pants on our banister?”

Jim groaned, rolling his eyes in an extremely over-exaggerated way, making sure Strickler saw. “I was gonna be careful!”

Strickler only looked amused, “I’m sure. But why don’t we take the stairs like civilized people, just in case?” He wrapped a gentle arm around Jim’s shoulders, guiding them both down the stairs together.

Barbara was at the bottom, dressed casually, for once— there had been no ifs ands or buts; she had the night off, and wasn’t on call unless the world ended. Of course, given Arcadia’s track record, that could have been an unfortunately high chance, but then again, it felt like even evil was taking a backseat that day. It seemed that that day was the first day they’d had in ages where no one wanted to destroy the world. Not even a continent.

And it was divine.

The sun was hanging lazily in the sky, golden light filtering harmlessly through their blinds, though Strickler was, of course, careful, regardless. He’d agreed to stay with the children until Barbara got back, but stood in the foyer as a mother stared at her son— looking so scarily like an adult— and watched with a smile, as she embraced the boy, trying to hide her misting eyes.

Barbara pulled back after a moment, and despite her valiant effort, hadn’t successfully stopped her tears from spilling, so as she pulled away from Jim, she wiped at her eyes under her glasses. Jim’s face softened, as he reached up to put a hand on her cheek, “Aw, mom, hey—”

“You just look so grown up, Jim.” She cut him off, going in for a second hug. He laughed, and hugged her again, and they held it, for longer this time.

After a moment too long, Jim opened his eyes to glance at Strickler, and shot him a look that screamed help me. Jim wasn’t sure he’d be able to get his mom to let go by himself. Then again, this, too, did not bother him much.

Seeing Jim’s face, however, Walt chuckled and moved to place a comforting hand on Barbara’s shoulder. “Come, now, tarn, you must get going. You two have a picture date to attend, after all.”

Barbara finally pulled back enough to give a wet laugh, saying, “I’m glad you made me get waterproof mascara.” She smiled fondly at Walter, “It’s going to come in handy, if this is only beginning.”

The beginning of many more events to come, she meant. Jim was a senior this year, and graduation was approaching far quicker than any of them were ready for.

“I’m going to go get a few more tissues, actually.” She realized, and turned to dart back into the living room, to secretly tuck the whole box into her purse. She wouldn’t be the only one who needed them, after all.

As she left Walter and Jim alone, the former teacher reached to clasp Jim’s shoulder, to get his attention, and to hold him in some way. The boy was good at hiding it, but Strickler hadn’t missed the slight shaking of his hands, which he’d tried to hide, as he’d buried them into his coat pockets, post-hug. Walt gave Jim a gentle, reassuring smile, “Jim. How do you feel?”

The boy futzed for a moment, glancing into the living room, and then back to Strickler— there was a flash of a memory, when the two of them had been watching for Barbara in a much different way— and then he shook his head, smiling—a real smile, genuine. He spoke the truth when he said, “I’m fine, actually. Just nervous. I’m bad at dancing.”

Walter gave a gentle, kind laugh, “I believe you ought not worry, Young Atlas. Were Claire to break up with you over your dancing, I fear there would be a much larger issue at play.”

Jim’s eyes went wide at the implication, and Strickler realized the poor timing of the joke. “Ah, but… you needn’t worry. The world will not end because our trollhunter has two left feet. Claire loves you, Jim. You will be quite alright, I believe.”

Jim fidgeted for a moment, looking as if he was trying to make up his mind on something.

And then Barbara rejoined them, giving Walt a quick kiss on the cheek, interrupting whatever Jim had been about to say. She slung her purse over her shoulder, and reached to place a hand on Jim’s back. “Let’s go, honey. Can’t keep Claire waiting too long, eh, Romeo?” She teased.

Jim rolled his eyes, but grinned, “Yeah, yeah.” He turned to the door, but then halted, and looked over to her, as if he’d just remembered something. “Hey, Mom? Why don’t you go get the car started? I think I left mine and Claire’s tickets upstairs.”

Barbara looked at him to joke that that was, of course, important, but as she turned, she caught the smallest glimpse of the corner of the tickets already sticking out of Jim’s coat pockets. She glanced from Jim to Walter, who gave her a nod. Ah.

She pretended to be none-the-wiser, as she walked over to hug Walter. He was surprised, but accepted it, and as she held on, she whispered, “Thank you, my love.”

He murmured, “Of course, von swin dwoyem eks klokarp.”

Barbara gave a soft laugh. “One day I’ll get you to tell me what that means.”

“Not a chance.” He winked, as she let go, and properly exited the house.

Jim had averted his eyes throughout the exchange, embarrassed. No matter how long he lived with them, it would still always be a little awkward to see the two of them like that.

He looked back up when the front door clicked shut.

It was a split-second, the silence hanging in the air between them. And then Jim surged forward, and wrapped his arms around Strickler’s neck, having to get up on his tiptoes to do so, even for his stature. He held on only just long enough for Walt to loosely wrap his arms around Jim in return. They stayed for a moment, and then Jim pulled back, standing awkwardly, as if he’d surprised himself.

Strickler opened his mouth to speak, but Jim took that moment to cut him off, blurt, “Thank you,” and make a beeline for the door.

Walt let him go. When the front door shut again, he smiled to himself.

Do you dance like this? Forever

That night, three very not-normal teenagers engaged in one of the most normal rituals of high school that any of them had gotten to do, thus far—Senior Prom. They filled their phone storage with pictures, screamed their voices hoarse, abandoned shoes, ties, coats, danced themselves breathless, wheezed when they had not the breath to laugh at that very same dancing, collapsed on each other in a giggling heap on the floor when they rested for only a moment—they had to soak up everything; they couldn’t waste time sitting!— and stole far too much food from the snack table. They saw friends, old and new, teased each other, or professed love, declared themselves best friends, and decided to abandon their plans for the future. They didn’t need them. For one, incredible night— for one, normal night, they danced, frozen in forever.

For one beautiful night, Jim danced, hand-in-hand in a three-pronged circle with his two best friends in the world, and after two long, long years… Nothing was wrong. It was perfect.

#// one: sorry this is so long omg #// two: i did not think this song would work so well?#// three: you're amazing #ask #maiolica-admirer #song prompts #drabble #not rp #// edit: added a read more #trollhunters #jim lake jr #// fandom tagging bc I kinda like this?#// I kinda like how it came out??#// so uh #// iaoefjw #// yeah #// chucks this into the tags and yeets away

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alright--okay · 3 years

Text

you ever been to a basement show? pt. 3

tsukishima kei x reader

summary: Tsukishima sees you everywhere, and for a big school thats weird. And it’s not like he’s gonna do anything, that’d be even weirder, but one day in your shared lecture he sees you wearing a shirt with some small band’s name. A band he know. And well, now he has to know who you are.

word count: ~2.8 k

a/n: the first five chapters are already on ao3 so imma post them here real quick, hope anyone reading enjoys!

read on ao3!

pt. 3 Girl Scout Cookies - Mom Jeans.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Tsukishima said as you walked into the lecture hall, gesturing to your outfit.

“I don’t understand the question.” You calmly replied taking a seat beside him, only to awkwardly bring your legs up to the chair in front of you. The attempt to look laid back and “chill” clearly not working.

Tsukishima widened his eyes and pointedly shifted his gaze to your plaid pants.

“They’re my fun pants!”

“Is fun the word we’re gonna use?”

“Yes. We are. Because these,” you gestured to the patterned pants, “are a statement piece and fashionable. I look trendy and professional.”

“You look like you got lost on your way to an underground cafe that serves farm-fresh honey.”

“That sounds delightful, not gonna lie.” You turned away from Tsukishima to start unpacking your materials for the class. “Oh, and before I forget, I figured you’d like to know that Yachi was very happy to see you again.”

Tsukishima let a small smile slip onto his face at that, “I’m sure, Yachi was close with a lot of us on the volleyball team; when we got to college it just got harder to coordinate, even if we were at the same school.” He turned to look at the pen he had been playing with in his hand, “It was nice to see her too.”

“Aw, Tsukishima, you do have a heart!” You laughed. Even though you had known Tsukishima for a short period of time, it was easy to get comfortable around him. You actually kinda enjoyed his snarky attitude and it was fun to tease him. Not to mention Yachi trusted the dude so you knew he had to be a good person (even if it was deep down).

Tsukishima attempted to ignore you the rest of the class for that comment but decided to bother you by pushing your elbow off your shared armrest every chance he got.

After the third time your pen ran down the page in an abrupt straight line, you stoned your face and silently looked forward, ignoring the chuckles Tsukishima was hiding behind his hand. You slide the small lecture desk back in its place and calmly made your way to one seat over. Once settled again you turned to Tsukishima who was already looking at you with bright eyes and a poorly repressed smile.

“I’m not having it.”

~~~

From Tsukishima archeology:

hey i don’t know if you’d be interested but me yamaguchi and our other roommates were gonna have a game night situation tonight

i think yamaguchi told yachi about it but i wanted to let you know that youre welcome

to come that is

if you want to

You smiled at the texts. Yachi had informed you of the “game night situation” happening on Friday last night, but it had seemed wrong to impose. These were friends Yachi hadn’t seen in how long? And you were just supposed to crash their full reunion? But Yachi had taken the time to assure you that yes, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were friends from high school, but their other roommates were really just “friends-of-friends”.

She had convinced you to come with her to be another familiar face, but having Tsukishima explicitly invite you made you feel better about the situation as a whole.

To Tsukishima archeology:

yeah yachi told me !! ill see you there :)

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and continued your walk away from campus to your apartment with Yachi. It was still the early afternoon and you were (thankfully) done with classes for the week, giving you plenty of time to mentally prepare for a night of socialization with a group of people you largely didn’t know.

What the fuck did you agree to?

~~~~~~

“So she is confirmed coming?” Yamaguchi asked from the kitchen, peering around the corner to see Tsukishima, hunched over his phone starring at the screen.

“Yeah, she’s coming with Yachi.”

“I still can’t believe she knows Yachi,” Yamaguchi said, shaking his head slightly as he sat beside Tsukishima on the couch. “Well, at least it gave us a reason to reach out, right? I’ve missed my favorite blonde.”

Tsukishima beside him sat up, looking at his friend, “Oh so I’m number two?”

“Sorry, but you’re number three,” Yamaguchi said with false sincerity, “Akiteru beat you out when he brought those pork buns last month.”

Tsukishima gave his friend a blank stare before falling back into the couch with a “shuddup Yamaguchi” mumbled under his breath, Yamaguchi only offering a snicker in response.

“Come on, get up. We have to prepare this place for tonight.” Yamaguchi stood, holding out a hand to help Tsukishima up.

“Prepare? It’s not like we’re throwing a party or something.”

“No, but we have a fairly tiny apartment and with eight peop-”

“Wait, eight? I thought there would only be six…” Tsukishima trailed off as he came to realize who the other two were.

Yamaguchi gave a nod, moving to fix the couches in the small space, “Yep. Bokuto was sad he couldn’t come last weekend so they’re taking the train in. They should be here in like an hour. Hope your new friend likes being interrogated.”

At this Tsukishima groaned. “I might have finally found a normal friend and those two are gonna ruin it.”

“Oh come on, Tsukki. Yeah, they’re loud and crash and have way too much energy BUT you love them.”

“I love Kenma and Akaashi, that’s the only way I deal with those buffoons.” Tsukishima paused before going to help Yamaguchi position the couch, “But for real … do you think they’ll scare y/n?“

“Tsukki, that girl can deal with you. I’m sure she’ll be fine with Kuroo and Bokuto. Plus Yachi is gonna be here, Kenma and Akaashi will keep them in line for her, and by proxy, y/n.”

Tsukishima knew this was true at least. Back in their first year of university, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi hung out a lot more and even back then Kuroo and Bokuto would come to visit their respective boyfriends. In the few times all of them would hang out together, Kenma and Akaashi made sure the two were respectful of Yachi, knowing how anxious she could get.

So as long as Kuroo and Bokuto didn’t get you alone, all should be fine.

~~~~~~

“Oho, ho, ho,” a man with black and white spiked hair approached you with wide eyes, getting borderline too close to your face before you even fully walked through the door, “who are you?”

“I’m y/n, it’s uh, nice to meet you.” you tried to give a casual smile as the man continued to make direct eye contact with you, “I like your hair.”

His face lit up with a blinding smile, “Thank you! Your hair is also very nice, very pretty, suits your face shape.” A genuine smile slipped on your face at the compliment, “I’m Bokuto Koutarou, I don’t live here.” His smile still in place, despite your now confused expression, “And Yachi! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Bokuto turned to your roommate who had been standing beside you, leaning down to give her a seemingly very tight hug.

“Hello, Bokuto-san!” This was not one of the people Yachi had told you about. She had mentioned Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s other two roommates, but nothing about a random boisterous man.

“Bokuto, please put her down.” A very pretty man came from around the corner, laying a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. Bokuto did such and turned to throw an arm around the man’s shoulders. “It’s nice to see you again, Yachi.” He now faced you with a small smile just barely curving his lips, “And you must be y/n? Tsukishima said he invited another friend.”

“Yes, that would be me. Can I assume you live here?”

“You can. I’m Akaashi Keiji and you’ve met my boyfriend I see.” Boyfriend got it. “Everyone else is in the kitchen getting snacks but feel free to get comfortable.” He gave you two another smile before going back down the hallway he came, Bokuto trailing behind him.

You and Yachi walked over to the small living room area in front of you, “Sorry I didn’t warn you about Bokuto, I didn’t realize he was coming.”

“It’s all good,” you said with a chuckle, “He seems nice.”

“He is! It probably means that Kuroo is here too, but don’t worry! He’s nice too! They can just get kind of … loud.” The two of you were interrupted by a freckled man (who you recognized as Yamaguchi from pictures Yachi had shown you) that walked into a room.

“Yachi! What’s up?” His smile was warm as the two met in a hug, “And y/n! It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Same. I’m happy to expand my social circle,” you said, returning his smile with a chuckle.

“So as for games-”

“Y/N!” You startled at your name being yelled by an unfamiliar man (possibly, Kuroo? He was already loud) power walking from the hallway. Tsukishima was quickly trailing behind him, trying to act calm but obviously failing. “Were you the vixen that swept our dear Tsukki away last Saturday night?”

Your wide-eyed gaze met Tsukishima’s (who looked physically in pain), “Perhaps.” Tsukishima closed his eyes, seeming to anticipate the following smirk that grows on the man’s face at your answer. “But in my defense, Yachi was there too.”

“Yes, but Tsukki didn’t know that, did he.” Eyes turn to Tsukishima, who was now sitting at the end of the couch, a hand rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses.

“Can we move on?”

“No! We cannot, but first,” Kuroo looks to Bokuto, both straightening their backs as they say simultaneously, “shots?”

Oh, this was going to be a fun night.

~~~

“Tsukishima. Tsukishima … Tsuki … shima”

“Can I help you?”

“Please let me try on your glasses.” Okay so maybe the sixth shot was a bad idea. “Please, I just want to see how blind you are.”

You were usually okay when it came to drinking, never getting too wild or out of control, but the vibe of the night mixed with Tsukishima still being annoyingly sober after three drinks made you more … talkative.

“I’m not blind.” Tsukishima relented, slipping his glasses from his face and into your waiting hand, and subsequently onto your face.

“Damn, you really aren’t, this is a pussy prescription.” Your eyes were slightly glazed as they looked around the living room, not being able to focus on the shapes of the room.

Kuroo broke into a cackle from his position on the floor playing a card game with Bokuto, Akaashi, and Yachi, “Fucking burn Tsukki.”

“Kuroo.” Kenma called, curled around a pillow on the couch, phone clutched in hand.

“Sorry, sorry. Quiet voice, shhhh.” Kenma gave a nod and returned to his huddled position.

You focused back on Tsukishima, giving him his glasses, “I used to wear glasses, you know. My prescription was really bad. I’ve been wearing contacts recently though, hence the,” you gestured to your face, lacking frames.

“So that’s how you know I have a ‘pussy prescription’?”

“Heh wait, ‘pussy prescription,’ I just realized.” You giggled at him, “Like the opposite of a dick appointment.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that conversation. Want some water?”

“Yes, but also!” You faced the other members of the group in their various positions around the small room, “can we order food?”

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Bokuto sprang up, already going around the room to take orders before calling in an order to a local restaurant, known to be specifically used by drunk college students at two a.m.

While Bokuto and Kuroo left to pick up the order, you quietly sat back down next to Tsukishima.

“I know this is very out of the blue and maybe it’s cause I’m a lil drunk-”

“A little?”

“Shaddup, I’m not that bad,” you gently slapped his chest at the comment (and wow that’s a thought for later), “just … thank you for inviting me.”

“Well, you know, we were inviting Yachi, just seemed like we were obligated to and all that.” Tsukishima wasn’t looking at you but you could see a light blush staining the tops of his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure you were very obligated to do so. But come on bro, I’m trying to have a tender moment.”

“… you’re welcome.” You stared at him intensely, he sighed before relenting, “Okay, I get it. I’m glad you came. Seriously.”

You smiled up at him, “Do you guys do this type of thing often? You guys are all really nice and I think Yachi is happy to have you guys back in her life. I think the both of us would really enjoy doing this again.”

Tsukishima gave a small smile back, “I think the both of you are welcome anytime.”

“Glad to hear it.”

The two of you sat in your own bubble for a bit before the smack of the door against the wall alerted you to the food arriving.

The night ended soon after that, everyone sitting on various pieces of furniture in the cramped space, slowly sobering up and getting sleepier at the same time while eating your respective orders (and if you stole some of Tsukishima’s french fries, no one had to know).

Akaashi had already dragged a clingy, half-awake Bokuto to their bedroom, and Kenma had been curled half on Kuroo’s lap for the last half hour. Yamaguchi, while still participating in conversation, was letting out large yawns in the middle of sentences and Yachi wasn’t much better.

“Alright, I think we should head home,” you said, turning to Yachi who slowly nodded in agreement. The two of you rose, slipping your shoes and coats on near the door, “it’s been real, goodnight everyone, I hope to see you soon.” Yachi also giving a quiet goodbye to the room.

“I’ll walk you guys home, it’s late and Tokyo can get scary at night,” Tsukishima said, walking over to his own set of shoes and coat.

“Thank you, Tsukki,” Yachi replied, continuing to settle into her coat. You didn’t voice your own thanks, but you smiled at Tsukishima.

“What a gentleman, Tsukki. It was a pleasure to see you ladies,” Kuroo said, voice much quieter than it was previously in the night.

You and Yachi waved as a final goodbye for the night before the three of you made the short walk to your apartment.

~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for Tsukki to see you and Yachi off. Just as he had done last Saturday, he walked you two to the door where you all said your goodbyes.

“Hey text me when you get home, I heard these streets can get scary.” You told Tsukishima as you entered your building.

“Yeah, I will,” You smiled at him then turned back to walk with Yachi further into the building.

Tsukishima took his time going back to the apartment, reflecting on tonight’s events. You got along with his friends. That was good. That was a normal thing to want from a new friend. Just a friend. Yeah, he could go with that.

He tried to be quiet entering the apartment, but it was no use, Kuroo and Yamaguchi were still sitting in the living room and immediately turned to him.

“So … ” Yamaguchi began.

“You and y/n seem to be getting close,” Kuroo winked and tried to raise his eyebrows at Tsukishima but the movement ending up looking twitchy and not at all smooth.

Tsukishima tried to look aloof as he answered their waiting stares, “She doesn’t like me like that.”

“Wait, so does that mean you like her like that?” Yamaguchi smiled, seeing the slight tensing of his friend’s shoulders.

“Oh, that is definitely what it means, Yama.”

“No, no it does not,” Tsukishima tried to stop the two before they had the idea hard set in their minds, “y/n is just a friend. We like the same music, we share a singular class, and yeah okay she’s kinda cute-”

“Oho, ho, ho, did you hear that Yamaguchi?” Fuck. Kuroo’s smirk was wide at this point, “So this is happening then?”

“Nothing is happening.” Tsukishima quickly finished ripping off his shoe and walked to his room to pass out for the night, he could still hear Yamaguchi’s reply to Kuroo though as he shut the door.

“It’s happening.”

Tsukishima sighed, sprawling across his bed. Before he forgot, he pulled up his phone.

To y/n:

streets weren’t too bad

i got mugged but the scar is gonna be pretty cool

From y/n:

does it at least go through your eyebrow?

To y/n:

just a little bit :/

From y/n:

i dunno man

is it really worth it at that point

To y/n:

…

goodnight y/n

From y/n:

goodnight tsukishima

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader

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shawn-mendes-post · 4 years

Text

Aftermath

A/N: Chapter 2 of Just Friends. I don’t own anything.

VMAs Recap: (Y/N) is not a little girl; she is a woman with many males wanting her.

This year there were many good performances. However, (Y/N) took the show and left us wanting more. If you do not know who she is, then let me brief you.

She was born in Toronto, Canada, in 1997. She comes from a line of prestige doctors. It came out a surprise when she would not follow the same path as all her members in the family. She would follow her best friend, Shawn Mendes, on tour. Things would heat up with their friendship as people began to speculate romance was blooming. However, it came to a stop when Shawn and Camila were spotted kissing.

Their friendship is unknown because the two are no longer spotted together. (Y/N) was busy filming in a tv show and writing songs while Shawn was doing a collab with Camila.

Next, we hear about (Y/N) is her new single Hands to Myself. Fans went wild and could not believe sweet (Y/N) could be so....sexy. She would perform the song at the VMAs.

She gave Shawn a run of his money with an alluring performance. She wore a seductive dress that showed off her curves. Hair curled down her shoulders, perfectly framing her heart-shaped face. She even had a male dancer dance with her. The dancer was all over her, and she was all over him. The two were both joined by another male dancer, and the performance was Hot. Hot. HOT.

Overall, it was an outstanding performance, and I cant wait to see what she does next. Watch out for my next article about the timeline of Shawn's and (Y/N)'s relationship.

***

(Y/N) stared at the article, rolling her eyes at how they had to mention Shawn. "Why must people keep focusing on our friendship. I don't even know what goes on in his life anymore," she complains, flipping the french toast.

Her agent sent the article after the VMAs. He wanted to let her know how everyone loved her performance. He also wanted to check up on her since she has a movie shoot soon.

(Y/N) finished making her breakfast before she sat down to eat.

Her plate consisted of fluffy, warm, french toast with glazed strawberries, topped with powdered sugar giving off a heavenly look.

A side of bacon and eggs with a soft biscuit landed on another plate. Her stomach grumbles before she digs in, not having anything since yesterday.

Agent

Don't forget to go to the shooting of the movie. Also, you have an interview tonight.

Groaning, she gets up and gets ready for the day.

***

Shawn was hungover because he could not get his mind off of (Y/N). After seeing her at the VMAs, it brought back memories of the two.

"Shawn!" A 4-year-old (Y/N) yelled, running towards him in her Halloween costume. He lets out an "oof," as she wraps her arms around him. He laughs, patting her back, hoping she would let him go.

She lets go, glancing at his costume and lets out a squeal. " My prince Eric," she said, dreamily. He rolls his eyes, not understanding why she even had a crush on a cartoon character. "Yeah, yeah," grumbles, blushing as he sees her Ariel costume. She was wearing the pink ball gown that he mentioned he liked.

"Ready?" He asked, holding out his arm for her to take. Nodding, she wraps her arm around his, following their parents out the door. They spent a couple of hours of trick or treating and having fun with each other.

After, they went to Shawn's house, having a little party. The kids were sent to Shawn's room. Shawn dumped all his candy on the floor and (Y/N) did the same thing, giggling as she sees all the different types of candy.

The two would swap candies and munch on them, watching a movie on his bed. Time passes, and the parents come in to see (Y/N) head-on Shawn's chest and his arms wrapped around her waist. Both were peacefully sleeping, and the parents took a picture of the two.

***

Shawn stared at (Y/N) with lovely eyes, finding her the perfect girl. " I will marry you, " the 7- year-old told her. She laughs and shakes her head, " oh Shawnny, we are too young. Maybe when we turn 20. Hopefully, I will be on my way to becoming a doctor, and you are on your way as a famous actor."

Shawn shakes his head, not liking the wait, "let's get married today," making her eyes widened. A chock caught their attention as they see Shawn's parents. Both of them were frozen, not knowing what to say.

(Y/N) tilts her head, thinking about what Shawn said, and then nodded her head rapidly. " Okay, Can we?" She turns to Shawn's parents making them snap out of their state, looking at both of the kid's pleading face, debating on what to say to the two hopeful kids, before nodding their heads.

***

The next day the two kids were in the backyard. (Y/N) was wearing a white gown that went to her ankles. Shawn was wearing a tux that made him uncomfortable.

The two were not able to see each other, and that made it difficult for things to get done. The two would sneak away to meet up with each other, and just spend time together. The parents would have to find the kids and separate them.

Later, (Y/N) was walking towards Shawn, smiling excitedly. Shawn was glad he was marrying his best friend. Their eyes connect, and both of them could not look away. It was time for them to exchanged vows.

"Shawn, you are my best friend and will be forever. I would follow you to the moon and back. I promise I will always be there for you, Shawn. "

"(Y/N) you are amazing. I want to stay by your side no matter what. I can not see my life without you. I will be your best friend forever."

Then Shawn places a Ring Pop on her ring finger, remembering what his father said. Then (Y/N) did the same to him before she leans and kisses his cheek, blushing as she pulls away. The parents cheer as pictures, and a video was taken of the two.

***

Shawn stared at himself in the mirror with tired, dry, and red eyes. His hair was a mess, and that was unusual for him. He knew he should try and talk to her, but after the last encounter, he thought it was best to leave her alone.

But he missed her. He missed her so much that he couldn't even stop his tears when he thinks about her. The smell of her hair because she uses a specific type of shampoo. The way her eyes lit up when she would see him. A smile always on her lips or the way she giggles at everything he says. "I miss her," he mumbles, placing a hand on the mirror.

A 15- year-old Shawn was sitting on the couch, running his hand through his hair. He was waiting for (Y/N) and her family to come over for Chrismas, the yearly routine.

He was clutching the gift he wrapped poorly in his hands, wondering if she will like her gift.

He spent countless months saving up for her gift because he wanted to make things perfect for her.

He knew he was busy after he signed the record deal, but he wanted to be there for (Y/N).

Knock. Knock.

Fumbling, he stands up, cheeks flared, as he hears his family chucking. Opening the door, he was left breathless when his eyes meet hers.

She was standing in front with a big gift in her hands, perfectly wrapped with a big bow resting on the top.

"Hi," she said, softly blushing when she saw how handsome he looked. "Hi," he replied, grinning stupidly, not noticing her family.

"Ugh, get a room," her little brother said, disgusted at how they were acting, making the two tomato red in the face as they cough awkwardly.

Everyone enters the living room, but Shawn takes (Y/N) to his room.

The two teens sat on Shawn's bed, five feet apart, glancing away from each other. There was a pregnant silence since the teens did not know what to say. "I got-" the two started, but stopped when they realize the other was talking.

" I got you a gift," she mumbled, shyly giving him the gift in her hands. He carefully unwraps the gift. He opened the box to see different items in there. He took out a pair of fluffy, slippers. " You need a pair when you go on tour. "

Smiling, he gets the next item, which was wrapped chocolate chip cookies. " I know you love my baking. "

The next item was a jar with notes. Some envelopes read "open when..." making him curious about what they say.

There were pictures of the two for him to keep when he goes on tour and to have something to remember her since she wouldn't be with him because she was going to study to become a doctor.

"It's wonderful," he kisses her cheek. " I got you something too," he said, giving her the gift.

She unwraps it, slowly opening the box before she lets out a gasp. An elegant, silver locket with a vintage moonstone stone set in the center, framed Victorian floral in an antiqued silver color, laid in the small little box.

" I can't take this," she says breathlessly, shaking her head. She tried to push the box to him, but he shakes his head.

" I want you to have it. You mean the world to me (Y/N) and want you to know," he whispers, opening the locket to show a tiny picture of the two smiling. (Y/N) stares into his eyes, tears sliding down her face, slowly leaning closer to Shawn's face.

Their lips touch in a light kiss, making both of them nervous.

He places a hand on her waist, brings her closer to him, the other hand on her neck, tilting her head more. (Y/N) has one hand on his thigh as the other is running through his curls, whimpering at his touch.

Her hand on his thigh rises up and down till becoming dangerously close to his crotch. Shawn's breath gets heavier, heart beating rapidly, blood rushing through his ears, making him pull away from (Y/N). The two were a blushing mess as they breathed heavier than normal.

"Wow," she said after a while of silence. Shawn chuckles before running his fingers through her hair. " Your right, wow."

He wanted to kiss her again, and he would if she didn't pull away from him. "We shouldn't have done that," she said, getting up and looking at him fearfully. " Why not?" He asked because it hurt him that she regretted it.

" I don't want to ruin our friendship, Shawn. We can't be together because you are becoming famous and I'm just me. You are just going to leave me for someone prettier and richer than me. We should stay friends because of the uncertainty of life," she explained, not wanting to but knowing her family would disapprove of them being together. 'You must focus on becoming a doctor,' her mom told her. 'I know we thought it was cute when you were little, but you're not anymore,' her father said about her crush on Shawn.

Shawn sat motionless, countless thoughts running through hid head before he nods his head. "I understand (Y/N). However, I want you to know I would never leave you for another girl. You are the bewitching girl in the world. It was a heat of the moment," he lied through his teeth.

"SHAWN! (Y/N)!" Women voiced was heard through the walls. The two teens rushed towards the living room to join everyone else.

***

Shawn sighs, tired of his confusing feelings. He loves Camila, and she makes him feel alive. But she wasn't (Y/N). He couldn't just mope anymore. He had things to do. He had songs to write.

***

(Y/N) was off the stage, running her fingers down her off the tight shoulder dress.

She didn't want to wear something that would bring too much attention.

She was currently a guest on Jimmy Fallon's show to help with the True Confession between John Mulaney and Pete Davidson, two of her favorite comedians.

" First we are going to need another player, we found a great one you know from Stranger Things, American Horror Story and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, she is also a singer you know well (Y/N) (L/N)!'

(Y/N), gets in motion, she spins, across the stage coming to a stop, and pose.

She laughs, the audience hollers, at what she did, " coming in hot!"

Pete was clapping as he watches her impress everyone. His eyes trailed down to see what she was wearing, and he silently admitted she was stunning.

" Here is how it works. In front of us are two envelopes with confessions. One confession is true, and the other is a lie. Once you read your confession, the other players have 60 seconds to interrogate you, and they have to guess if you are lying or telling the truth."

(Y/N) nods, grabbing the coffee cup, take a sip, holding back a gag at the taste. " Don't drink that. It's a prop," Jimmy said, shaking his head, trying to reframe from laughing.

" I had them place coffee in the cup, but I don't like this coffee," she mumbled, making a silent reminder to go to Starbucks after this.

" John, you go first. Pete, what envelope should John open."

Pete nods as he points to his envelope and then to John's. " Mine or his?" He asked, laughing.

" His," Jimmy and (Y/N) said in sync.

" Oh, number two," Pete chuckled out.

" This could be a lie or the truth. We don't know."

John picks up the envelope, "alright." He then opens the envelope, wondering what is going on. "Are we doing this correctly?"

" Is this mine or his?" Pete asked, curiously.

" His," (Y/N) mutters, stares at John, she had an idea of John's, tell when he lies.

" Who am I talking about? You?" John asked, looking at Jimmy. The audience laughs at how they are questioning the game.

" You talking about you. "

" Do you get it?"

" I should read the email." Everyone laughs as Pete covers his mouth.

John clears his throat before speaking, " my neighbor was arrested by the FBI for being a cannibal. "

" What?" A few scattered laughs were heard. (Y/N) smiles already knew the answer.

" What year was this?"

" 2013," John said, sipping on the drink.

" So cannibalism illegal at this point. "

" So wait… is this L.A?"

" New York."

Jimmy and Pete looked at each other and come to the same conclusion.

"The FBI got involved, but how did you know? They asked you questions?" Jimmy asked, needing more information.

" Uh, when the FBI were swarming our lobby and arrested the guy at 6:00 am a raid.

" Was there any clue he was suspicious or anything?"

" No, he never said to me in the elevator, "Guess what? I might be a cannibal." (Y/N) watches the interaction between the three, laughing at them. The buzzer rings, and it was time to guess.

" I say no cause if it was in L.A, I would believe it. "

" I'm going to say its false. "

They turn to (Y/N), and she smiles innocently. " I am going to say it is true."

" It's true."

"What! No!"

John then explains the story to everyone.

It is Jimmy's turn, and he opens up the envelope, silently reading to himself.

" You sure? Two is pretty good." "I like one."

" I once went for a beer with a musician and woke up in a hotel in Nashville.

"Where did the evening start?" "New York."

" Yes. It's true. " Everyone laughs at Pete's declaration. John and (Y/N) agree with Pete, nodding their heads. They begin to ask uninterested questions to fill in the time. The buzzer goes off, and all three said it was true.

" Pete, it is your turn, and (Y/N) will be picking the envelope. " " I pick one."

" Lorne Michaels and I went to Jamaica together on a vacation for New Years," Pete said, trying to not laugh. "

John made a face, not believing what Pete said. "I want that to be a lie. " The three would spend the rest of the time asking Pete questions.

"I want it to be true, but I'm saying no. " " Not true." (Y/N) stares into Pete's eyes, making him laugh. " It is true," she said. " It's true," Pete admitted.

" I am terrible at this game," Jimmy said, getting up from his seat. (Y/N) had her head held high, smirking when she knew how good she was?

" Now, it is (Y/N)'s turn. I pick two. "

(Y/N) nods, picking up the envelope, trying to remember what it said. She reads it silently before going deathly pale. She forgot she wrote this, but knew she could not change it now.

" I once had a wedding and got married to Shawn Mendes," she told them, silently wishing she was somewhere else. Screams could be heard in the audience, and that made (Y/N) more nervous.

"How old were you?"

" I was six. "

" Where was it?"

" Umm, I think in the backyard of Shawn's home."

" Did you have a real wedding?"

" Not really, we were pretending that we were getting married. I mean, we were only kids back then. "

" Were your families happy?"

" I think so. I knew Shawn's parents were, but mine, I don't know.

The buzzer went off, and it was time for them to guess. " I am going to say no," Jimmy said, staring at her to figure something out. " I think it is true," John and Pete said.

" It's true," she mumbled, cheeks flushing as the crowd hollers. " WHAT!"

" I was six, and he was seven. We saw a movie about two people getting married and spending the rest of their lives together. He wanted to marry me, and we came up with a kid's wedding. Our parents planned it out for us. There is a video of the whole thing. I'm pretty sure its somewhere in our family things.

" Our thanks to John Mulaney, Pete Davidson, and (Y/N) (L/N)!"

(Y/N) waves before getting up with Pete. She was being interviewed after John, so she was going to wait in the dressing room.

#shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #reader #reader insert #reader interactive #reader input #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn x reader #shawn x y/n #shawn x camila #shawn x you

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