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ellenripleysbelieveitornot · 3 years

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What about an Akechi/Joker role swap AU where Akechi is still the detective prince and Joker is still the Shujin delinquent, but the major difference is that Morgana never lost his memories and found Akechi before he approached Shido with his metaverse assassination plot?

Like, imagine Akechi, bitter and jaded, who has just awakened Loki and felt the terrifying and thrilling rush of the berserk power. He's formed a plan to get back at his piece of shit father, even managed to set up a meeting, which he had to set up months in advance, and on the day he's going to present Shido with info on the metaverse, he winds up arriving a few minutes late, because even though he intended to be early, he was accosted by a talking cat (he's been in the metaverse, so he can hear him) on the way over, and in the whole wtf-ery of the moment, lost track of time. Shido, being Shido, refuses to see him and will not reschedule because he doesn't like having his time wasted.

Pissed off, Akechi leaves to find Morgana still waiting for him outside. So he doesn't look like an idiot yelling at a cat on the street, he brings Morgana back to his shitty apartment, where Morgana explains why he had found Akechi and whats up. He doesn't know about Yaldobaoth taking Igor's place, he just knows there's two champions, and Akechi was the one he found first, so he must be Igor's chosen champion. (It is my theory that it doesn't actually matter who was Igor's and Yaldobaoth's champions, it was more about the choices they each made and where they ended up.)

Akechi has no interest in saving the world, but he knows that if he wants to get back at Shido, he needs to become someone of consequence, so he agrees to undergo Morgana's training, since Morgana clearly knows more about the metaverse than he does, and he can use it to solve cold cases, earning him a place as the Detective Prince. He changes a few hearts, to pacify Morgana, too. It takes a couple years, but during his senior year in high school, he makes it, earning himself the cooperation of the police and the spotlight of the public eye. He's getting so close to making Shido notice him that he can practically taste it. Also, what’s this ‘velvet room’ he keeps dreaming about?

Then Morgana finds Kamoshida’s palace and is like ‘heyo, you thought changing hearts in the metaverse was cool, check this shit out’ and Akechi is admittedly intrigued , so he takes a look. He sees the inside of Kamoshida’s heart and is appropriately disgusted and says to Morgana, ‘hey we should totally kill this guy’s shadow.’ Morgana’s like ‘why is your first suggestion always murder, we don’t know what would happen if we killed his shadow, Igor wasn’t very clear about that bit, we should try stealing the treasure instead’ and Morgana has been useful (and it’s been really nice to have the company these past two years, though he won’t admit that) so Akechi agrees ‘fine, we’ll steal the treasure, but if that doesn’t work, then I’m killing his shadow.’

And that’s when Ryuji and Ann make an appearance (’ohmigawd, goro, be more careful with that damn app, i s2g.’) Ryuji’s mom apparently thinks Akechi is pretty neat and watches all his interviews, so Ryuji knows who he is and is delighted to find out that the lame-ass detective his mom has talked about is actually a grumpy badass in the metaverse, with this shadow that has some kind of insane power, and hey, he helped them bring down Kamoshida (alive,) so maybe he is actually pretty cool, even though sometimes he spaces out and talks about evil twins and some longed-nose dude. He decides then and there that he’s going to be Akechi’s best friend, since he apparently has none, and Ann is all too happy to join in for the ride, and all of Goro’s protests have fallen on deaf ears, and they know about the whole detective prince thing being a facade, so he might as well indulge them for now.

The ‘Phantom Thieves’ (a name that makes Goro want to roll his eyes whenever he hears it, and why is everyone calling him ‘leader?’) gain fame and change hearts, gaining new members such as this weird-ass artist dude who fights with ice, and oh, god, one Nijima is bad enough, don’t tell me there’s two! and she uses nukes, wtf?!

Around this time, he also meets Shujin’s delinquent, enigmatic transfer student whose talk of hope and justice never quite seem to reflect in his stormy grey eyes, and he and Goro are clearly birds of a feather in a way, he can tell, there’s just something about him, and he thinks this guy might actually be his best friend, but don’t tell Ryuji that, he’d never hear the end of it.

Akechi learns the truth behind Akira’s arrest and Shido’s involvement and he is disgusted to find that he genuinely wants to help this guy, and he can’t do that if Shido’s dead, maybe he doesn’t want his revenge as badly as he thought??? Oh, ew, I have feelings that aren’t anger and it’s all my friends’ fault, I can’t just leave them and go off to get revenge, they’d literally die without me, those lovable idiots. Also, when Ryuji saw his home, he pretty much insisted he stay with him instead, and Ryuji’s mom reminds him of the good times he had with his own mother, and he honestly doesn’t think he has the strength to disappoint her like that. So, he decides to change Shido’s heart, but he knows that there’s no way that this little group of miscreants is strong enough to take on the fucked up bullshit that he’s seen in Shido’s heart, so let’s hit pause on that for now.

Shido had Wakaba killed via completely non-supernatural ways and stole her research, same as before, so Futaba still has a palace. He found out Akira worked at Leblanc a while ago and started dropping by, and then somehow Ryuji found out about it, and now all the Phantom Thieves know, so much for a peaceful place to get away, but he actually doesn’t mind that much, and Akira lets Akechi keep an eye on the shop when there are no customers so he can go out and do errands and Boss doesn’t mind, so they’ve ended up hanging out there as a group from time to time and talking Phantom Thief business, so Futaba knows who they are, and asks for their help.

Okumura’s palace pretty much goes the same, Okumura dies somehow, are we responsible, why does murder actually make me feel kinda bad, stupid friends and their stupid good influence.

Goro attends the Shujin student fair as guest speaker, whoa, the class president being friends with Akechi does have its perks, doesn’t it? Akira finds them all there together and approaches them, tells them he saw them go into the metaverse, awakened his own persona, and saw a guy in a black mask kill Okumura’s shadow, hey why don’t I join you, you probably need all the help you can get, who’s heart are we stealing next, how about Sae, she knows my probabtion officer and has been giving me hell, plus I already checked, she definitely has a palace.

They agree, and oh, hey, Akira can hear Morgana talk now, but WAIT A MINUTE?! Didn’t he hear Morgana talk before when he told Goro that Leblanc didn’t sell sushi, even though Goro hadn’t asked for any?

They hack Akira’s phone, learn that Shido (Akechi recognizes that voice) will have thugs waiting to capture them when they leave the palace. They plan around it, pull the metaverse switch and manage to sneak a heavily drugged Akechi out of the warehouse Shido stashed him in by traveling through the metaverse. Shido’s lackey’s have written a fake suicide letter from the leader of the Phantom thieves, and the chief of police, under Shido’s orders, delivers a statement confirming its authenticity, and look the plan succeeded. All they need to do know is take down Shido.

Things are going great, until they get to the engine room, where Joker, having realized what happened, is waiting for them. Joker, who lost everything after he transferred, who discovered the metaverse completely alone, who didn’t mean to kill that guy’s shadow, but he attacked him first, and Shido had somehow known, had been keeping an eye on him, had him convicted for a crime that he didn’t commit in the hopes that he would break because he needed an agent in the metaverse, and so far he’s had no luck. Joker, who had nothing left to lose and had accepted the only hand that had reached out for him.

They fight, and when it looks like things are going badly for Joker, he pulls out... a second persona?!?! At least, it looks like a persona, but something about it is off. it looks familiar somehow. And then Akira asks if they knew it was possible to fuse personas and Akechi realizes what he’s looking at. These aren’t the clean executions that Caroline and Justine perform, these are personas that have been ripped apart and haphazardly thrown back together with no thought to form or elegance, look, there’s a Yaksini’s arm, and that bit right there clearly used to belong to a Rangda, and I think that piece might have belonged to a Seiryu, and Akechi should stop listing personas now because Ann thinks she’s going to be sick.

They keep fighting. Joker can’t understand the difference in power between them. After all, aren’t they the same? Unloved, unwanted, soldiers pitted against each other by some bullshit higher power?

When Joker shoots the bulkhead door closed and Futaba reports that she’s lost Joker’s reading, Akechi vows then and there that he’s going to kill Shido after all. And he almost does. He stands there, with his gun pressed to the head of the shadow of his father, his friends can’t blame him, and even Morgana knows better than to try and stop him. But he doesn’t. He remembers Akira’s madness there at the end, and wonders what he would have become of him if it weren’t for Ryuji, who somewhere along the way, he’d realized he’d stopped tolerating and started actually liking. Ann, who shared his woes about being in the public eye and swapped tips with him about how to handle the press. Yusuke, who, although he was still completely bizarre to him, appreciated the beauty in life and didn’t tease Goro for his taste in Grandpa clothes. Makoto, who knew the importance of hard work and who, between herself and her sister, had caused Goro to pick up some healthier coping mechanisms. Futaba, who made fun of him for his food blog, but liked the same nerd bullshit that he did and would bombard him with memes until his day somehow became a little less shittier. Haru, who dreamed of starting her own business and actually cared about Goro’s opinions, and could threaten someone with a smile in a way that even Goro was jealous of. And Morganna, who had reminded him what it was like to not be lonely, and demanded more sushi than he could afford, but always made sure Goro ate his fill, instead of getting so focused on his work that he forgot.

Akechi guesses that he must have turned soft somewhere during the past several months, but after seeing what happened to Akira, he can’t help but be grateful, knowing with certainty that if things had turned out differently, that would have been him. Hey, Morgana, you know that world-saving bs you talked about two years ago? Let’s leave this piece of shit here to rot and focus our attention on that instead.

And you guys know the rest.

Or, at least, that’s how I thought it would go. Feel free to share your thoughts. :)

#shuake #akeshu #akechi goro #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #Shuake roleswap #roleswap #persona 5

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heart-wit-strength · 3 years

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Lean on Me -Amphibia Oneshot

'Sometimes in our lives, we all have pain, we all have sorrow, but if we're wise we know that there's always tomorrow.'

*Following the ending of 'Marcy At The Gates'*

Because I just wanted to write Anne and Marcy being cute without, y'know, dying for once. My first Amphibia fic so no, it's not that good, but well, I tried. Here ya' go @milkshakekitty ❤️

––

Anne smiled warmly as she clutched onto Marcy’s hand as they swiped through the pictures, she had to catch her up with all the adventures they had in Amphibia without wasting any time. “Here’s me and Sprig by the lake. There was a snake that tried to eat us.” Anne commented. “Oh, oh, and here’s us running from a centipede that-”

“Let me guess, tried to eat you?”

Anne gasped, mouth agape in astonishment. “How did you know?”

Marcy giggled to herself. “Duh. This is Amphibia. What do you expect?” they swipe through some more pictures. “Wow, Anne. You and Sprig really seem really close, huh.” Anne blushed, twirling a strand of her hair in her finger.

“You could say. He’s…kinda the reason I've really been able to keep going, especially ever since separating with you guys, life’s been hard.” Anne admitted. “Feels like yesterday when I was absolutely freaked out was when I found myself stranded in the woods of Wartwood all alone. I’m gonna be honest with you, Mar-Mar, eating bugs ain't my favorite thing ever, or fighting tax toads…and stuff but I’ve come to think I’ve somewhat grown on this place and it’s because of Sprig and the Plantars.”

Marcy joyful smirk couldn’t help but fade slightly at the sound of all the things Anne had been through. “Yeah, I…can't disagree with that.” She muttered, looking away and pulling a strand of her hair behind her ear. “The Plantars really are sweet. And the little frog dude? He seems quite protective of you, no wonder you mean a lot to him.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry for all the…suspicion Sprig had on you earlier. I told him it was kinda uncalled-for, but a lot of stuff has happened and…”

“Oh please. I don’t mind at all. Believe me, I’ve seen a lot worse phases of skepticism in several rural civilizations I visited. Your friend seems a lot more open.”

Anne frowned, could she really blame Sprig though? Her other friend had almost killed him, and initially Hop Pop too. It just felt a bit uneasy having to tell Marcy that he had thought she was gonna be the same, what would she think? She didn't want Marcy to also hate her best friend like the other one did. Anne vaguely swiped through another picture on her phone, and what came up was her other friend. Anne’s didn't acknowledge herself holding her breath and frown at the sight of the blond girl on her phone screen.

“No way! Is that when you and Sasha reunited?” Marcy exclaimed with excitement, pushing her face between Anne and the phone screen, the picture of Anne and Sasha smiling and posing at the camera. “Heh, the armor suits her. Is that a Toad army uniform? She looks so different.” Anne rolled her eyes.

“She does.” Anne shoved the phone back into her pocket and stood up, looking into the distance, clutching the tip of her sleeve. “Literally. She’s changed.” Marcy, with a look of uncertainty, approached her.

“You said you had you had a fight, didn't you? But see, Anne…you know Sasha, we’ve known each other since we were kids, that’s the way she’s always been. Sure, she’s got a bit of temper, but I’m sure she’s still our friend. No matter what.”

‘She’s our friend. No matter what she does.’ The words echoed in her mind. ‘Nothing can change that.’That’s the one thing that had kept Anne bounded all these years. She was so busy making sure Sasha got away with all the trouble she was too blind to figured it out whatever she was doing with them was anything but friendship. All for they just couldn’t risk her somehow not wanting to be their friend anymore, for that would be the end of it all.

Wouldn’t it?

“She tried to kill my family, Marbles.” Anne’s tone cracked. Marcy’s eyes wide opened, stunned.

“She what? No way,”

Anne sniffed. “She tried to hurt Sprig, and Hop Pop. She’s far from justified. It’s too late, it’s time she takes responsibility of her actions. She’s way past treating us like we need her to make our decisions for us. Acting like…she can do whatever she wants because we just can't risk losing her because she convinced us that we’re NOTHING without her.” She panted, her face going red in exhaustion. Marcy stared silently at her friend with wide eyes. Anne breathed out and smiled warmly, looking into her eyes. “Well, we’re not. You and I are here, without her, doing just fine. The Plantars helped me make my way here to find you, we don’t need her to lead us. Dang, look how far you’ve come, Mar-Mar, you’re the literal hero of Newtopia and all, you bet Sasha would’ve never guessed that to come from the School’s science nerd, am I right?”

“Aw, quit it, Anna-Banana.” Marcy punched her playfully with a blush. Anne rubbed her arm and elbowed her with a smile. “How about we go for a walk? Bet that’d help. I know the perfect spot, c’mon, Anne!” Anne had barely processed anything Marcy had said yet before she was grasped by the arm and yanked along by her. After a moment of blindly letting herself be hauled along, when Marcy finally stopped Anne was marveled at the scene before her. What they stood upon was a hill, from where all of Newtopia could be seen. “Whoa.” Was all Anne could say, “That…sure is something, dude.”

“I know, RIGHT?! This is the most fun spot of the city next to the library, check this out!” Without a warning, Marcy hopped off her feet and let herself roll down the shimmering cool grass. “Anne, look I’m a Springroll!” Anne couldn’t help but chuckle at this until she noticed that Marcy was going to rolled herself right into a giant rock.

“Rock! Marcy, rock!” She shouted.

“I know! I rock at this!”

“NO! Marcy, look out!” Anne didn't acknowledge herself diving down and grabbing the girl before she’d crash herself. Anne panted heavily, holding her close. Marcy grinned.

“Heh, I get carried away sometimes. Thanks, Anna-Banana.” Anne sighed deeply and got to her feet, dusting herself.

“Sometimes. Pfft, sure. You can do me a great favor by being careful for five minutes for frog’s sake.” She retorted. Marcy blinked, wondering if she wasn’t being a help. Nah, there was no way for that to be, she knew how to cheer up her friend. Just as Anne began walking away, Marcy grabbed her hand and pulled her down. “Marbles, what are you…? AAAA-” she screamed as the two rolled further down the hill. “MARCY!”

“Isn't this cool?!” Marcy laughed as she gripped on her tight. When they stopped, Anne held her spinning head.

“Dude, what the frog?!” She complained, rubbing her head as Marcy continued to grin. “That was insane.”

“Insane and fun!”

“Pfft, yeah.” Anne couldn’t help but chuckle, slightly punching her shoulder. “Don’t do that again.” She looked up at the sky full of stars, sighing to herself. Funny how it was only her and Marcy now, without Sasha telling them what to do, just like back in…kindergarten? Well, that was quite long ago.

And surprisingly for all, she was actually feeling…good? It was true she always felt a lot liberated around her. As Anne had described to Sprig earlier, Marcy was indeed harmless. It was almost astonishing how she was totally living the moment and barely seemed concerned about everything that had been going on. How long they had been away from their parents, and haven’t seen each other in months until now, how Sasha tried to kill her family…

She couldn’t keep herself from remembering the tearful look in the girl’s eyes during their last encounter. ‘Hey, Anne?’ The last words from Sasha echoed in her mind again. ‘Maybe you’re better off without me.’ And in a blink of an eye, feeling her hold on Sasha’s hand loosening and having to see her former friend nearly fell to her doom.

Anne shook her head. No, that wasn’t her fault. There was no way it being her fault that Sasha rejected the help, rejected her, something she had always been afraid of. But somethings were inevitable, and in the end they were alright, she was okay and Sasha had…other people to stand by her, to follow her lead rather gladly.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Marcy spoke up, who was relaxing down on the grass.

“I often like coming out here to read. It actually feels pretty great out here, heh. Andrias prefer to join me sometimes, we had SO much fun together. Gosh, I LOVE this place!” She lied on her back, whirling her arms and legs, and enjoying the feel of the soft grass beneath them. She suddenly gasped and sat back up, eyes shining and a dreamy look on her face. “Y’know what I just came up with? What if…we made a hideout here? Brilliant idea. If we use the correct type of wood according to the air moisture, but wait we also need to bug-proof this place, we could try-” She stopped when we noticed Anne zoned out. “You okay there?”

“Huh? Yeah, and yeah we should totally do that.” Anne said, sitting down beside her, one arm wrapped around herself.

“Are ya’ cold?” Marcy asked with concern.

“Huh, no, it’s not that. I’m just-”

“Aw shucks! I should’ve known it! You always get a cold out in the night. Here, have this before you go all sneezy.” Marcy proceeded to take off her cape.

“No, Mar-Mar, really, I’m-” Anne was interrupted by her own sneeze. “…fine.”

“You’re not, Sneezy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Heh. You know? It could be a sign someone is thinking about you.” Marcy smirked, tapping her chin.

“Yes, I know that, Marcy.” Anne replied, flushed and rubbing her itchy nose. “But I think I’m just cold.”

Marcy shrugged. “Eh, anyway. Here, you can have this. Don’t worry, it’s not on fire…yet.” she joked as she wrapped the cape around her shoulder. “Remember when we used to go to the café after classes, you always ordered hot chocolate while me and Sasha went for soda. Even then, you get sneezy. You always have it colder than us.” Anne blushed as she curled up.

“Thanks, Marcy.”

“About Sash, Anne, all of that sounds real rough, hard to believe actually, I never thought she’d…go that far.” She sounded much disappointed by the finish.

Anne sneezed again. “I’m not even surprised at this point. She’s always been a jerk, we were just too blind to notice.”

Marcy leaned back, fiddling the tip of her toes. “I…kinda always thought she was like the protector of the group, and that she’d always look out for us.”

“She likes to show me that I’m the weakling,” Anne’s voice cracked. “So that she’d feel better about herself. That’s why she tried to kill Sprig, he has been the first to make me realize that I was friends with a jerk. I guess that’s it, all she cares to have is control.”

Marcy’s eyes moved back and forth for a moment before she gently placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder who just sat there, hugging her knees. She felt a bit guilty about the fact that despite always being there, she had never been the one to realize what Anne had been going through, that Sasha was basically pushing her around. Maybe if she even did, there wasn’t much she could do to change it.

“Hey, you ain't a weakling to me. Pfft- Yeah sure, Sasha always liked to show off her strength, I rolled with it because it seemed like the only thing she was ever into. But hey, you know how much you look out for me.” She lifted Anne’s chin. “Even back in that cave today? You looked out for me. My point is, you’re so much more than you think, Anne. We might need her on our way back home, we aren’t gonna leave her behind. But whether or not she is there, you know you matter so much to everyone. You’ve got me, you’ve got the Plantars, and Sprig; it’s gonna be okay.”

Anne wiped her watery eyes with a smile, Marcy blinked as Anne embraced her into a hug, she smiled and hugged back. There was a moment of silence between them while they hugged until suddenly, Marcy sneezed.

“Huh, wonder who’s thinking about me?” She remarked, wiping her nose.

“Perhaps the librarian back home, for all the books you didn't return.” Anne commented sarcastically. Marcy narrowed her eyes and elbowed her. Anne shook it off with a chuckle and wrapped the other end of the cape around Marcy’s shoulder. “There. Now you won't get all sneezy either.” Marcy rolled her eyes with a smile. Anne leaned her head against hers, staring up at the stary sky, spotting a shooting star passing by.

“I don’t ever want to lose you again, Mar-Mar.”

“Me neither.”

#Amphibia #Anne boonchuy #marcy wu #fanfiction #y'know Pix Pres is broken when she actually writes fluff instead of angst 😂#but again it's still hurt/comfort sooo idk #anyway I love these two besties sm <3

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penaltbox · 4 years

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flights, fate, and football games (4+1) - quinn hughes

*or 4 times you were in the same place and didn’t know it + 1 time you were in the same place on purpose*

if you like it let me know :) reblog it, send me a message, leave your thoughts in the tags. thanks in advance!

word count: ~3k

Same restaurant/Post playoffs

You wave at your two best friends as soon as you enter the restaurant, surprisingly being the one who was late this time. You hit more traffic than you expected, but Pop’s was not to be missed.

The little Ferndale restaurant was one of your favorites and you needed the time to wind down after the crazy week you’d had. You hear a guy’s voice behind you talking to the suddenly excited hostess as you walk past her to get to your table, but never glance back at who it might have been.

“Wow, for once we aren’t the late ones,” Abby smiles, nudging Hannah with her elbow.

“Oh, aren’t you guys funny,” you roll your eyes playfully, but take a seat with them, “it wasn’t my fault though. Traffic was insane on the highway. It’s like everyone forgot how to drive at once.”

“I hit some traffic too, no worries,” Hannah smiles, glancing over your shoulder, “did you somehow miss those super cute boys that came in behind you though? The one was so your type.”

Your eyes widen a little as you turn around to quickly survey the area you’d just come from. There’s no one waiting at the front of the restaurant though, so you turn back with a frown.

“I mean, I heard a guy’s voice as I walked in but I didn’t think to look back at him. Why? Was he really that cute?” You ask, looking around the restaurant to see if you could find who she was talking about.

Abby sighs, “I can’t see where they went either but Hannah and I noticed them as soon as you got here. We should have got you to turn around somehow.”

You shrug, checking over the menu and deciding between a pizza or the bolognese instead, “I guess if I was supposed to have seen him then I would have.”

You would have looked around for him more but the waiter showed up and you were dying to get your hands on a glass of wine to start your weekend off.

...

“Quinn, I swear if you don’t start talking to cute girls when you see them I’ll end your career,” Will points across the table.

Josh holds his hands up and laughs, “guys, come on. We all know Quinn isn’t smooth enough to seal the deal anyways.”

This gets the other two laughing, but Quinn doesn’t find it as humorous. He rolls his eyes and tries to fight off a smile. He opts for focusing his attention extra carefully on the menu rather than fueling the fire that was already started.

“Hey, by the end of summer you never know. Maybe you’ll be able to land a girl. It might take a small miracle, but we’ll help you out if we can,” Will grins, thinking it’s the funniest thing in the world.

“Great,” Quinn nods, thinking matchmaker Will sounded like a living nightmare, “I’m sure that would go well.”

He tries to brush it off, but the thought lingers a little longer. He’d find someone one of these days. His mom always told him he shouldn’t rush a good thing. It would happen when it was supposed to.

Your brother’s hockey practice/Early June

“I swear to god, Adam, you need to get moving,” you mumble, watching your brother get beat in yet another drill.

The air inside USA arena was definitely colder than outside and you were wondering how you’d managed to get stuck picking him up that night. He seemed off though so maybe he’d asked your mom if you’d get him. Sometimes he needed to talk, and definitely not to your parents.

The whistle blows loudly and you watch your little brother skate off with his head down. He’d been lucky to make the U17’s but you could tell he was struggling. It made your heart hurt and you knew the drive home would involve the long route that day.

You wait in the lobby, responding to your group chat that had somehow blown up while you watched the end of the practice. You’re in the middle of a message when an oddly familiar voice catches your attention.

You pick up your head and look around just as a group of guys head down the stairs to the locker rooms. You don’t manage to see any of them but something about the voice you’d heard seemed to catch your attention for some reason. Where had you heard that voice before?

Adam comes barreling out of the doors, an annoyed look on his face, “let’s go.”

“Hi to you too, asshole,” you scoff, but the look on his face matches the tone he’d given you. Something was wrong.

You grab your keys and walk out of the arena, glancing over at your only sibling, “Adam, what’s wrong? Wasn’t there another practice after that you wanted to watch or something?”

“No, some alumni guys rented the ice next and pushed the 18’s back an hour,” he mumbles, his hands dug down in his pockets.

You reach over and ruffle his hair, despite the fact he’s well taller than you now, “come on, we’re getting ice cream before we get home. And you can tell me what’s got you so worked up on the way.”

A smile takes over his face finally as he reaches your car, “okay fine. So there’s this girl in my chem class but she’s dating a football player.”

“Ew,” you laugh, playing along with the story, “also if you’re playing like shit because you’re mad that a girl you like is taken then I’m kicking your ass”.

“Hey, it was one bad practice. Just don’t tell dad,” he looks over, “surprised you didn’t want to stay and watch the next practice though. You know it’s the guys who went on to play college and pros and stuff right?”

You almost smack him when you see how smug he looks, but you hold off for once, “the last thing I need is some trouble maker hockey player to deal with. I already have you.”

“Suit yourself. Every girl I know loves Hughes though,” he shrugs.

The name sounds familiar but you don’t think twice about it for some reason. Of course you wanted a boyfriend but you weren’t sure you wanted your younger brother setting that up for you.

…

“Try not to suck tonight, okay?” Jack laughs, shrugging his bag a little higher on his shoulder as he picks on his older brother.

Quinn laughs and shoves him sideways, “try not to get run over. Are you gonna put any weight on this summer, bud?”

“You’re both getting lapped,” Alex interjects, walking between the two and entering the arena first.

Quinn notices you leaning against the wall in the lobby and does a double take. Had he seen you before? Why did you seem so familiar? You had to be waiting for someone if you were there, he knew the 17’s had the ice, so maybe you were younger than he thought.

He shakes off the odd feeling he gets from seeing you and turns to find his brother grinning. Quinn knows he’s been caught staring and he immediately bumps Jack into the wall.

“Don’t even think about it!” He says, hurrying down the stairs as Alex holds the door.

“I’m just saying!” Jack yells after his older brother, “I could go play wingman for you!”

Quinn thinks that sounds like the worst thing ever, if he’s being honest. The last thing he needs is to rely on his brother to set him up. He could see that going wrong in a million different ways.

The airport/pre-4th of July

You sigh, slouching down in your seat a little further as you take a sip of your coffee. You wish your anxiety didn’t have you at the airport almost two hours before takeoff, but here you were.

You watch a few planes take off, ignoring your surroundings for a little while as you wonder where the people might be going and why. You respond to a text from your aunt in Boston, who you were going to visit, and quickly get lost in your thoughts again.

You let your eyes start to wander after a bit and they land on a cute boy a few rows over. He’s sitting with a few other boys around his age and you glance over at their gate. New Hampshire? What was even in New Hampshire?

You watch him for a few more minutes, but shake your head before looking back out the window. You certainly weren’t brave enough to go talk to him and you didn’t want to get caught staring. Something about him seemed so familiar but you brush it off, figuring you were just imagining things.

…

Quinn drops his backpack and sits heavily into the creaky airport chair, arguing with Luke about what they’d do first when they got to the cabin. There was no winning the argument but Luke liked to be a pest and Quinn had learned from being gone so much that sometimes he just needed to let his little brother bug him while he could.

Airports were so boring and he’d luckily stalled enough that his parents didn’t have them all there three hours early for once. Quinn lets Luke “win” the argument finally, agreeing that they’ll go on the boat as soon as they get there.

Quinn’s attention wanders and he looks around the airport, his eyes seeming to focus on the gate heading for Boston. His eyebrows pull together as he tries to squint and see the line of people boarding. He swears he sees a familiar face but he’s not so sure.

There’s no way it was the same person he saw at the arena a few weeks ago, right? He blinks hard and suddenly he’s hit with a water bottle in the chest.

“Dude are you good?” Jack questions him, waving a hand in front of the older boy’s face.

Quinn looks at his brother quickly before checking where you’d been standing, only to find you’d already boarded the plane, “yeah, knock it off. Can’t you leave me alone for like five minutes ever?”

Quinn is mildly annoyed that his brother pulled the stunt when he did and he’d lost sight of you before he could be sure. Maybe you were from Boston and you were headed home. That wouldn’t explain why you were at USA arena unless your brother played there, too.

He turns to Luke then, elbowing the youngest Hughes to get his attention, “do you play with any kids from Boston?”

Ann Arbor/football game/late August

You laugh as you try and keep up with Abby and Hannah, excited for one last year at the school that held your heart. You were convinced you could never leave Ann Arbor and luckily for one more year you didn’t have to.

The weather was perfect that night as the first football game was set to kickoff in no time but the three of you had left a pregame a bit later than you planned for. You’re being rushed through the crowd by Hannah, who has a tight hold on your hand, when Abby suddenly veers off.

“Hold on, I need to say hi to him!” She yells over her shoulder, causing Hannah to stop in her tracks and you to slam into her back.

The two of you stumble a little but fix yourself, standing and watching where Abby had run off to. She moves to a group of guys and your stomach turns a little with worry, hoping she actually knew who these people were.

You’re about to march over when you see the boy. The one from the airport. You shake your head a little, trying to make sure you weren’t imagining what you were seeing, but he really is there. Abby is talking to his friends and he’s got a soft smile that makes you want to know more about him. He’s not as outspoken as his friends and his hands are stuffed in his pockets like he’s not sure what else to do with them.

Hannah catches you staring and laughs, “that’s Quinn by the way. I know you’re looking. Abby met those boys a couple months ago while she did her classes on campus. Can you believe they’re the ones we saw at Pop’s at the beginning of the summer?”

“They’re who?” You ask, your brain speeding through the memories, but all that keeps coming up is Quinn.

Pop’s, the airport, and now here. Was he the guy from the rink too? Was that the voice you’d recognized. There was no way you’d been in all the same places for the last three months and never talked to each other or actually truly met. What kind of fate was playing around with you two?

You glance back over at Quinn only to find him looking at you, too. Your cheeks feel instantly hot and you bite your lip, looking away quickly. You hated that you reacted so quickly to something so simple. Maybe he was looking at Hannah, you tried to reason with yourself. Or maybe he recognized you too.

…

Quinn is shocked when a bouncy little blonde runs up to Josh and says hello to him. She’s happy as can be and Quinn would be lying if he said she wasn’t cute. She quickly introduces herself and motions back at her friends, talking a mile a minute, when Quinn realizes he’d definitely met her earlier that summer.

Her and her friends were going to the game but if the boys wanted to hang out after they’d be having a small party at their place and they were more than welcome to come. Quinn gives Josh a little nod when the taller boy checks with him for plans and Josh smiles at the girl he’d been talking about for weeks now.

Quinn looks around the crowd of maize and blue, looking for the friends she’d mentioned, and his eyes freeze on one in particular. You’re so familiar in that moment and suddenly you’re the prettiest girl he sees there. It was the same feeling as the rink, the airport, and now here in Ann Arbor. What were the chances that he’d ran into you this many times but never talked to you?

He sees you and your friend watching in their direction and he catches your eye. You blush and bite your lip, making him smile right away. That had to be the cutest thing he’d seen in a long time. He forgets that Abby has mentioned her friends and he’s about to walk over and talk to you when Josh grabs his arm.

“Come on, we have to go this way to get to the field,” Josh says, nodding in the opposite direction of the girls.

Quinn is about to argue, but sighs instead, “yeah, okay. Did you say we’re seeing them again later?”

+1 Your friends set you up/late August/post football game

“You wouldn’t stop staring at him. Don’t even try and lie about it now!” Hannah accuses, pointing her finger at you.

You feel like you’re dying of embarrassment and Abby can’t stand up straight because of how hard she’s laughing over the situation. You were being bullied by your best friends and none of you could contain your laughter over it all. There were more than a few people watching the scene as you made your way around the field, trying to find which section your tickets were for.

“Stop, I don’t even know him!” You say, though it’s only a partial lie.

Abby snorts a little and carefully wipes a tear away from the corner of her eye, “holy shit, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Yeah, Quinn is awkward as hell but I think you two would be amazing so you’re definitely meeting him tonight.”

She’s quick to pull out her phone and text Josh, already making a plan with him to get you and Quinn cornered in the same area. You can’t fight her on this. Once Abby set her mind to something it was going to happen so you were just along for the ride at this point.

The football game goes by too fast considering it was the last first game of the season you’d ever get as an undergrad, but the three of you are in such good moods that you hardly have time to be sad about it.

You leave the game a few minutes early to try and beat some of the crowds as you head back for the house you all shared. You almost forget the boys are coming over as you head to the kitchen and grab a drink. You figured you had a little while before they’d show anyways.

Popping the top of your can, you take a big drink and sigh. You hear Abby’s little giggle behind you and you whip around confused. You’re suddenly face to face with Quinn and you immediately blush in embarrassment.

“Uh, hi,” you stutter, giving him a little smile even though you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Hi,” he says, and you know immediately that he was the one you’d almost run into so many times that summer.

His smile is just as nervous as yours and you get why Abby had called him awkward before. He fidgets with his hands as he stands in front of you but it’s endearing somehow. He’s not overly cocky or trying to impress you somehow and yet you’re completely on board with getting to know him.

He’s a stranger, technically, but he feels so familiar that you laugh a little. Quinn’s eyebrows furrow over the noise but he doesn’t actually ask.

“Sorry, it’s just… did you want a drink or something?” you offer, trying to keep yourself from getting giddy over having him in front of you after all the months of fate making sure you dodged each other.

His smile gets bigger then and he seems to relax, “yeah, that sounds good. Maybe I could steal you too and get to know you? If you want anyways.”

You nod, not hiding your smile anymore, “I think I’d really like that. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

#quinn hughes #my writing #mine #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes

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mypunkpansexualtwin · 3 years

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Pegoryu week 2021 is here and I have two whole entries that are gonna be done on time! The rest will happen, I promise, they'll just be late.

Anyways! the fic is under the cut and the link is in the reblogs as per usual. Hope y'all enjoy!

“Man, y’know you don’t hafta let Ann bully you like that, right?” Ryuji whispered over to Akira and reached for the flower poking out of his hair. To his surprise, Aki actually batted his hand away with a huff and tucked the thing a little more tightly behind his ear.

“First off, I do have to let Ann bully me. And then I bully back. That’s just what our friendship is,” he explained, not bothering to lower his voice while the girls were off getting more drinks. Not that it woulda made much difference, he was a pretty quiet guy even when he was being obnoxious. Usually. Ryuji cringed as Aki noisily sipped the meltwater from the bottom of his glass and held up a second finger. “Second, I like flowers, thank you very much. And thirdly,” almost against his will, Ryuji’s eyes tracked the swipe of Akira’s tongue across his lower lip as it shifted the straw from one corner of his mouth to the other before he continued, “red’s my color.” Ryuji swallowed.

“Y-yeah. D’you gotta chew your straw like that, dude? It’s kinda... gross.” Gross. That was the word he was trying to hold onto in his brain with both damn hands. Gross. It was gross, dammit. The straw chewing and the obnoxious slurping were habits that usually grated on his brain worse than a Metaverse confusion-and-psychic-attack double whammy. Today, though? Today he barely noticed it, he was too distracted. Maybe it was the heat or the jet lag, or the fact that seeing all these American girls with bikinis and curves that made Ann look downright bland by comparison meant that his brain had glued itself into the gutter. The fact that he almost never saw Akira with his glasses off sure as hell wasn’t helping either, considering the damn things had to be for everyone else’s sake. Under the scruffy nerd look Akira Kurusu was as much of a damn pretty-boy as Yusuke Kitagawa or that asshole Akechi with those effin’ eyes. That was an objective fact that even a guy as straight as Ryuji could see. Hell, if it weren’t for the glasses he’d probably be Shujin’s favorite bad boy--regardless of which way any of the students swung--instead of Ryuji’s fellow delinquent outcast. This wasn’t news to him, but for some damn reason something was different today.

Today, some goddamn wire got crossed in Ryuji’s brain and he kinda wanted to beat its ass. Today, he’d lost track of how many times he’d caught himself staring at those stupidly long eyelashes that any of Ann’s coworkers would kill to have, and the way they cast soft shadows over those perfectly smooth cheeks. Or the way Akira’s usually dark grey eyes looked almost silver in the sunlight. Or how they’d crinkle just a little at the corners when he smiled that soft little hint of a smile that already did weird, mushy things to Ryuji’s guts on a normal day. Or the way his lips were just a little fuller than either of the girls’ were but just as soft-looking. Ryuji wondered if maybe he used some kind of lip balm or something, but one without any color. If it didn’t have any color, would it at least have a flavor--

...Anyways.

Ryuji had decided to blame it on that damn flower. Akira stared at him, a little confused, the straw still resting on his lower lip as he breathed out a quiet, “huh?” Then he glanced down at his mostly empty drink and then frowned sheepishly as the realization hit him. “Oh! Sorry, I know that drives you crazy.” Oh right, Ryuji had asked a question and had already forgotten. Akira set the glass on the table next to where Ann had given up and dropped the other hibiscus she’d been hellbent on putting in Ryuji’s hair. He had enough time to grimace at the sad, mangled end of the straw--and the thoughts his traitorous, overcooked brain conjured up about where it had just been--before Aki reached out, swiped the other flower, and tucked it next to the other behind his ear.

If Yusuke were there (because that was what Ryuji needed, more clueless pretty-boys punching holes in his sanity), he’d have his hands up in that finger-frame thing he always did when he was planning out a painting in his brain. The artist would be ready and raring to try and turn Akira into his latest masterpiece... that he’d end up bitching about not being good enough to capture right a week later. That wouldn’t be Yusuke’s fault though, Akira was just weird like that; in every picture of him he just looked like Some Dude, like a background character in his own life, Guy With Glasses #3 or something. But right now, right in front of Ryuji he looked… compelling, or some shit like that. Pretty as a damn painting that you couldn’t help but stare at for a while and contemplate your life, ‘cause that was easier than tryin’ to understand what was in front of you.

“Seriously, Aki?” Ryuji sighed at the second blossom now peeking out of Akira’s unruly frizz. He shoulda kept his damn mouth shut, let Akira keep chewing on his damn straw and drive him crazy in the annoying way and not… whatever this was. It had to be the heat. Ryuji was secretly dying of heatstroke, that had to be it.

“Red. Is. My. Color.” Akira crossed his arms and pouted, and Ryuji had to bite back a laugh at how his best friend had puffed out his cheeks while he sulked. Cute, but a safe kind of cute. Like back at the buffet, in that open kind of way that made Ryuji wonder what Akira had been like as a little kid. That looked like his opening to get things back on track, back to something resembling their usual dynamic.

Ryuji cracked a grin and flicked the bottle that everyone had passed around earlier. “Yeah? That why you didn’t put any sunscreen on, you gonna be the first guy to pull off havin’ a sunburn?” Akira deflated slightly, then snatched the bottle off the table and-- Oh goddammit.

That had backfired spectacularly. Genius move, Sakamoto. You can’t quit ogling your best friend like some kinda weirdo, why don’t you convince him to oil himself up! That’ll help! Effin’ brilliant. Ryuji hastily turned around in his chair and fixed his eyes on the shoreline. He occupied himself with trying to guess how quickly he could sprint to the ocean, and for once he hoped that the water would be cold cold. The girls walking by, all dressed in bikinis that’d look small on skinny little Futaba and were probably held onto those insane curves with more wishful thinking than fabric, might as well have been invisible to him. Since he had apparently pissed off god or something, all he could think about was Akira, very intentionally just outside the edge of his vision, slathering his chest in sunscreen. His incredibly flat chest; if he’d at least had enough bulk on him to have pecs or something, that might have taken some of the sting out of his stupid brain fixating on his leader instead of any of the women who looked like they’d walked straight out of his dreams. Ryuji was gonna set those stupid flowers on fire when he got his hands on them.

He swallowed around a mouth that had gone dry and tried to break the awkward silence that had settled over them. At least, Ryuji sure as hell felt awkward, Akira was usually fine with a little quiet and didn’t seem bothered at the moment. Still, Ryuji had to do something before he went crazy. “Man, I thought Ann was impressive, but compared to these foreign ladies… eh.” Akira snorted somewhere behind him.

“I’m sure she appreciates the break from being leered at,” he deadpanned. “Do you not have anything better to do than check people out?”

Ryuji’s stomach dropped a little as he whipped back around to shoot Akira a dirty look. Sure, he’d felt pretty obvious, but he hadn’t actually been obvious about staring-- Wait. Aki meant the girls. False alarm, no need to panic. “Man, shut up. And don’t even try to tell me you don’t agree. Like, these ladies are massive, the girls back home don’t even compare!” Ryuji snapped. Someone had to be appreciating all these beach babes, otherwise what even was the point of staying out when it was so damn hot?

Akira actually paused and glanced over at Ryuji with a weird look on his face before he sighed and shook his head. “I’m not really interested, honestly.”

“Man, I am gonna rip that tongue outta your head!” Ryuji exclaimed. Seriously, all those lovely ladies going unappreciated had to be some kind of crime. An international one. It was probably too much to hope Ann or Makoto would be taking up the slack, wherever the hell they were. It was apparently definitely too much to hope that Akira would let that comment pass; even if he was quiet, the guy almost always needed the last word.

This time, it was muttered irritably under his breath. “Yeah why don’t you come take it, then?”

...What?

“What?!” Ryuji didn’t even bother turning around, he just broke down laughing. “What the hell does that even mean, dude?”

“You heard me,” Akira sounded serious, except for where the last word turned wobbly at the end. And then he dissolved into his own fit of laughter, snorting once before he continued, “I don’t even know, man. I just kinda blurted it out.” The two of them cracked up a little longer, glad to be back to something a little closer to normal--and Ryuji didn’t think Akira’s laugh was cute, it was quiet and dorky and weird, definitely not cute--before Aki caught his breath and then stretched. And sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“You alright, man?” He may not have been able to see Akira’s face with the two of them sitting facing in opposite directions, but Ryuji still caught how his leader had winced when he tried to raise his arm over his head.

Akira nodded. “Slept weird on the plane.” He rolled his shoulder again, then tossed the sunscreen to Ryuji. “At the risk of putting you in tongue-ripping range, can I ask you to get my back?” Ryuji was already up and moving his chair behind Akira, always eager to help his best friend.

“Sure thing, dude.” He had the bottle open and hovering over his hand before his brain caught up to him. Wait. Shit. Bad idea, bad bad idea! If he’d gotten all weird about Akira doing this for himself, how was Ryuji gonna survive getting his own hands involved, especially now that he was thinking about it? But he’d already agreed and if he backed out now, Akira would ask why. He sure as shit wasn’t gonna explain that.

“Earth to Ryuji?” Akira turned his head to peek back at him and… Welp. Apparently this was just Ryuji’s life now. The image of Akira looking over one bare shoulder with those damn eyes just barely visible past the flower petals, his face a little bit pink from the sun overhead, and his lips all flushed and swollen--because, oh right, when Akira didn’t have something to chew on, he’d worry at his lips instead--was seared into Ryuji’s brain. Straight or not, that picture just lived in his head now. And apparently so did about half of his blood, mostly in his face. And the other half… Again, he wondered again how cold the water was. Act natural, Sakamoto.

“Uh, sorry dude. Bottle was stopped up, I got it now!” He laughed nervously as the bottle squirted into his palm with a loud ‘pbblblblt’. Definitely no awkwardness here, no sir. Just a totally normal assist with sunscreen between bros. He was fine. He definitely wasn’t red enough in the face to look sunburnt. Deep breath. He was cool.

...God, he was gonna throw those stupid hibiscuses into the ocean. Hell, from this angle, he could probably grab them and slam them into one of the mostly-empty drinks before Akira could stop him. And Aki wouldn’t want to put them back in his hair after they were all covered in sugar water, right? It was a flawless plan. Ryuji was a damn genius.

He was just gonna finish putting on the sunscreen first, ‘cause he was courteous like that. No sense in letting Akira get a weirdly shaped sunburn because he chased Ryuji down for a couple of damn flowers. That was definitely the only reason he was still rubbing his hands down (and down and down) Akira’s back. Smooth and pale and soft, but surprisingly well muscled underneath, Akira’d been holding out on him while they were training. And those damn dimples on his lower back. Had he been wearing his trunks that low a minute ago? Ugh. Ryuji would definitely be going for a swim after this. He winced as he ran his hands back up over Akira’s shoulders.

“Shit, Aki, I think I found that knot in your neck. No wonder you couldn’t do this yourself,” he muttered and dug his thumb gently into the muscle. Akira sucked in another breath through his teeth, but tipped his head forward and let Ryuji work. The damn thing was probably about the size of a ping pong ball, and Ryuji couldn’t help but feel a little guilty every time Akira tensed up or hissed under his breath when Ryuji dug in a little too hard. And a lot guilty at the temptation to just bury his hands in his bro’s hair. But finally, after the longest two minutes of his life, the knot released and Akira…

Akira fucking groaned.

Ryuji was done. He reached out, snagged both of those stupid red flowers--and a little bit of Akira’s apparently insanely soft hair, oops--and stood up to walk away, ignoring his friend’s protests. The ocean could have both of the damn things, and Ryuji right along with them. He was done. Unfortunately Ann and Makoto had chosen that exact moment to return with fresh drinks, cutting off his escape route. Effin’ great.

“Aaannnnnn, Makotoooooo,” Akira whined as he draped himself dramatically over Ryuji’s shoulders, halfheartedly reaching out to try and reclaim the hibiscuses. “Ryuji deflowered meeee--” Makoto’s face fell into the most unimpressed look any of them had ever seen from her, Ann snorted loud enough that it sounded painful, Ryuji about jumped out of his skin with an indignant yelp that probably could have been heard back in Tokyo, and Akira continued whining undeterred, “--make him give it baaaack.”

Ann had doubled over cackling, and didn’t seem to care that she’d just sloshed about a quarter of one of their drinks onto the sand when she did. “I- I don’t- *snrk* I don’t think it w-works like tha-ha-ha-ha-at!” She managed despite howling with laughter so strong that it looked like she was gonna fall over. Makoto had set her two drinks down long enough to drop into one of the empty chairs and bury her face in her hands with a long, drawn out sigh.

“Why are you two like this?” She glanced up long enough to shoot that tired, unimpressed look up at Akira and Ryuji.

“Hey, don’t look at me!” Ryuji all but shouted as he shrugged Akira off of him and started stomping down towards the water, flowers still crushed in one fist. “This is all on him this time!”

God, Hawaii was off to one hell of a start.

#my writing #pegoryu #persona 5 #fun fact this is kind of a deleted scene from wingman #because apparently that's just 90% of what I write these days is wingman stuff #have I mentioned wingman y'all should read wingman

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soupwaffle · 3 years

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p5r rant!! *spoilers*

okay. so. i’ve played p5 and p5r many times over the past few years, and my thoughts and feelings towards the game have mostly stayed the same, if not became more critical of its flaws. however, there is one thing that has changed the most, and that is my opinion on goro akechi.

the first time i played regular p5, i was doing a playthrough with an old friend of mine, and i wasn’t super into it. i used to really hate turn-based combat styles (except pokemon because, well, it’s pokemon. come on) so i was kind of just along for the ride. i really, REALLY hated goro during that playthrough, especially upon reaching the shido arc. i saw him as the surface level character archetype that he was, the antagonist of the game and akira’s foil. i could not comprehend why he did what he did, and why he committed all of the murders. He hated his father, hated doing what he was doing, so why did he do it? i despised his actions, and in turn despised him. which, honestly, is valid- you don’t always need a deep and thoughtful reason to hate a character- sometimes you just don’t like them. however, i feel like goro is a character that deserves an analysis and reflects more humanity than is displayed at the surface.

goro despised his father and his actions, truly and genuinely. however, there is always, ALWAYS, going to still be that lingering hope and love in him. the concept of parental relationships is often times built upon the idea that your parents are your world as a youth- you have to make them proud, you have to love them no matter what, because they are your caregivers and can do no wrong. the plot of persona 5 is, quite literally, going against this exact narrative, every villain arc in the story centering around a parental/adult figure in one of the phantom thieves lives and how their desires and cruel inward view of the world harms the children they raise. every phantom thief comes to terms with the abuse and trauma they hold from their guardians- ann and ryuji dealing with kamoshida’s child abuse and pedophilia, yusuke dealing with the false love and encouragement that turned out to be just using and fraud out of greed, futaba and the death of her mother, believing herself to be at fault in the situation, makoto and her sister’s desire to be the best and succeed on all accounts, ignoring the plight of her sister and the issues she was facing, haru and her negligent father, who saw her as an object used for personal gain, and finally, goro and his father, the man who forced him to go into the metaverse on his own for years and kill anyone that he considered to be in his way, in terms of his political and business careers (which p5 does a great job of showing the dangers and negative impacts of intertwining business and politics, i think- but that’s for another time).

and every single phantom thief, upon realizing that there is an issue with the situation they are in, become determined to fight against the evil of those people they trusted throughout their youth- the awakening of their personas- and avenge their lost childhoods, all while attempting to fix the cruelty in those that they loved.

except for goro.

goro was a phantom thief, yes, but he is the only one who actively did not (or, more accurately, could not) go against his father and follow the path of akira and his friends and find that acceptance of himself and his past. he could not move on from the abuse of his father, and could not accept that there was any other way to gain the man’s love than to cater to his every whim- even if it meant destroying his own life and the first true friendships and loves that he had ever had, and eventually dying because of it. this is a fantastic representation of how the abuse towards children from their mentors/guardians can change the course of their lives and how they perceive the world forever. goro wanted so, so deeply to be loved by his father and for him to be proud of him that he was driven to insanity trying to achieve it, when it was impossible all along. akira knew this about him, knew that deep down, goro was never evil, and was never an antagonist to him. goro had simply become a slave to the very evil akira had been fighting against, and was unable to help him overcome the trauma-induced insanity at the point in which they had met. goro was too far gone, and, although he canonically showed before his death that he held that desire somewhere inside to be free of his father, and to live like akira- a hero to many, and a kind soul. that’s why he despised him so much, his first and only friend, and refused to refer to him as anything other than a rival- he envied the life he led, and the ability and strength he held to fight against everything shido stood for. goro would’ve given anything to be like that, and to fight against his father, as the rest of the phantom thieves did. but he couldn’t- couldn’t bring himself to, and almost certainly lived in fear of what would come once he didn’t have his abuser’s hand around his neck. despite the trauma and terrible experience that is abuse, it is really common for a victim to fear a life outside of the abuse, and a life of comfort- something that seems impossible, ESPECIALLY if the victim has always been living like this.

he would’ve also had to come to terms with the terrible things his father had made him do, and would have had to learn how to live with what he’d done, despite the fact that he did not want to do it in the first place.

after knowing all of this about goro, and understanding his character and how he and akira reflect yet contradict each other and relating on a deeper level to his story and emotions, i have decided he is one of my favorite characters in the series. i don’t condone his actions by any means, and he still held the ability to make decisions and act on his own, so the blame is not entirely off of him. however, i understand why it was done, and hold a lot of sympathy for the broken child that he was, and how deeply he desired to be loved.

#persona 5 #goro akechi #p5 #syd video game rants

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fanfic-corner · 3 years

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Wrapped In Red

Merry Christmas, @masterofevilmonkeyness! I’ve really enjoyed writing your secret santa for @destielsecretsanta2020 this year, and it has actually ended up being the longest fic I have ever written!

First of all, here’s the playlist. My friend found some perfect songs for the different scenes, and we had a lot of fun trying to find songs with specific vibes!

Without further ado, here’s the fic. And, if you’d prefer, the link to it on AO3.

{o0o}

“So you’ll do it?” his brother’s voice crackles though Dean’s cracked phone, and he sighs. So yeah, maybe he hasn’t been on a case in a while and has been going slowly insane just hanging around the bunker, but he also doesn’t want to leave Cas alone. Since his grace had faded completely a few days ago, the former angel had hardly left his room, and Dean wasn’t sure what he could do to help.

He rubs his forehead, already feeling a headache coming on simply from this conversation, and replies, “I’ll ask Cas.”

“Okay, text me if you’re going,” Sam responds, the phone making the muffled noises that Dean has learnt means that he is holding his phone on his shoulder, freeing his hands to talk to Eileen.

“Stop worrying, anyway,” Dean tells him, cracking his back as he stands up. “You’re on holiday. Leave the cases for a while, and I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Alright, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Dean slips his phone into his back pocket and wanders down the hallway, so engrossed in his plan to invest in some thick socks because the bunker floor is freezing that he nearly walks straight into Cas. His dark hair sticks up in every direction and he is wearing an old Zeppelin shirt of Dean’s and a pair of Sam’s sweatpants, which look like they are being held up by some kind of miracle. Paired with the bags under his eyes which are so dark that Dean mistakes them for bruises, he could be mistaken for a ghost.

“Hey, uh,” Dean stutters, not sure what to say. “Sam has a case that I was thinking of going on, but we don’t have to, we can just pass it on to Garth or-”

“I’ll go with you,” Cas interrupts, his voice hoarse and croaky.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You don’t look...great. No offense.”

“I’m fine, Dean.” Cas’ steely blue eyes had always been able to pull off a frighteningly good stare, and Dean just decides to go along with it. It would do them both good to get out of the bunker, in any case.

“Okay,” he agrees, “shall we go in about an hour? That’ll give me enough time to pack for both of us and you enough time to have a shower.”

Cas nods, and they part ways, Dean watching the angel hoist his borrowed pants up and disappear around the corner before shaking his head and fishing his phone out to text Sam.

We’ll take it. Send me the details, setting off in an hour.

{o0o}

Dean had tried his very best to hold a conversation when they set off on the fourteen hour drive, but he had long given up and they were only at the two hour mark. Every question he asked so far had either gone unanswered or had been graced with a monosyllabic response. It was like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall. Well, no one could fault him for trying.

Flicking his wrist out lazily, he turns on the radio without looking with the kind of graceful expertise that only comes from years of driving his baby at night. It takes a full ten seconds for him to realise that the sound of jingle bells is coming from the speakers before he groans. “Nope.”

A surprisingly warm hand shoots out to stop him before he can turn it off, and Dean looks up in surprise at Cas’ imploring face. “Please can we listen to it?”

Considering what the dude had lost recently - and the fact that apparently his puppy eyes are almost as effective as Sam’s - Dean was hardly going to deny him this one thing. He did, however, have one condition. “Okay, I’ll leave it on, but only if you fish out my Christmas mixtape from the box.”

Dean never took his eyes off the road, but he was acutely aware of the way Cas stared at him for a moment before excitedly rummaging through the old box of tapes. Eventually, he pulls it out, admiring the battered stickers and fading drawings that he and Sam had added when they made it all those years ago. Cas gently slides it in and the first few notes of Mariah Carey grace the air.

“Hell yeah,” Dean says, grinning wildly. “You, Castiel, are about to be educated in some proper Christmas music.”

By the time the mixtape finishes, they are both in a much better mood, so Dean decides it is probably a good idea to stop for a little bit to get some snacks and some gas. Frowning, Cas informs him that he needs the toilet, before disappearing towards the nasty looking bathroom. Dean can’t help but feel bad for him; as much as he loves being human, he knows it must be annoying to suddenly have the weird experience of a human body. They always seemed to hurt or need something, and he could tell that Cas found the whole thing incredibly repetitive and exasperating.

The gas station is like every other gas station Dean has ever seen; empty, with a layer of grime that seemed to cover everything and the bright lights that ensured that no matter what time of day it was, it always seemed to look the exact same. This one, however, is also covered in Christmas decorations. Glittery tinsel and rainbow paper chains swing from the ceiling, the air conditioning coaxing them into a gentle dance. Fake snow covers every surface, and flashing fairy lights force him to blink and look away.

Dean moves on autopilot, picking up snacks that Cas hasn’t tried yet and a couple of bottles of water, before reaching the counter. He has to yell to the cashier - who is decked out in a festive jumper and Santa hat - in order to be heard over the deafening Christmas music.

“Here,” she practically sings, disappearing into the back room for a second before reappearing with a ridiculous pair of reindeer antlers. “These are for you, sweetie! No charge. Cheer up, it’s Christmas!”

Dean tries to refuse the antlers, but the lady - Lucy, her name tag reads - is not taking no for an answer, so eventually he gives in, telling himself that it is just so he can leave this Christmas Hell and get back to driving. Cas is waiting for him outside, leaning on the car and watching as the first few flakes of snow start to fall.

Dean hesitates for a moment before offering the antlers to him. Cas just stares at them, his head tilted to one side. Sighing, Dean just steps closer and puts them on Cas’ head, laughing when the bells jingle as he tries to look up at them without taking them off. He slips his phone out and sneaks a picture of the bewildered former angel, hastily putting it away and bundling Cas in the car so that they can set off before the snow gets too bad.

“Why did you give me a pair of fake antlers, Dean?” Cas asks as they set off, turning them over and inspecting them in his hands. Much to Dean’s dismay, they wouldn’t fit in the car.

“Thought you liked Christmas stuff?” he replies, grinning.

“What do fabric antlers have to do with Christmas?”

And so, Dean finds himself spending the last leg of the journey attempting to explain Christmas traditions to Cas, who can’t help interrupting and pointing out the real facts, rather than Dean’s Christmas cracker knowledge. They go over Santa and his reindeers (“reindeers can’t fly, Dean”), the birth of Jesus (“I remember Balthazar telling me about that”), and mince pies (“why are they sweet? Mince isn’t supposed to be sweet.”). By the time they arrive Dean is so eager to escape the onslaught of questions that he doesn’t know the answer to, he hits someone with the car door as he gets out.

The actual reason that they have driven into the middle of absolutely nowhere dangerously close to Christmas is because a couple had gone missing last week and hadn’t been seen since. Usually, they would assume that this case wasn’t their kind of thing, but Sam had been asked to check it out by another hunter who knew them (and who apparently had some beef with a ton of shapeshifters), and so here they are..

Dean suggests that FBI agents might be a bit too suspicious for a small town in the middle of nowhere, so instead he and Cas decide to pretend that they are just family visiting them for the weekend. They knock on next door under the pretense of asking for the spare key, and are greeted by possibly the grumpiest people Dean has ever met.

“Fine,” the lady snaps, the half of her face visible from behind the door frowning at them in disgust before turning back into the house. “Harold, get the spare key for next door!”

“Do you happen to know where they have gone?” Dean asks politely, the pleasant smile on his face starting to ache.

“No.”

Cas raises his eyebrows at Dean, before he tries. “When was the last time you saw them?”

The woman huffs impatiently. “Probably when they went to that stupid office Christmas party. We could hear the music from here. It was so inconsiderate.”

“Oh,” Dean replies, sharing a look with Cas. “Where was this party?”

The door opens fully, a man appearing behind the lady - Harold, Dean assumes - who hands the key over to them. “It was those blasted Mitchells.” He turns to his wife, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Did you hear that they are throwing another goddamn party tomorrow, Ann?”

“Thanks for all your help,” Dean interrupts before they can get too carried away.

“Merry Christmas!” Cas adds, already backing away.

They speedwalk back across the victims’ house, making sure that the neighbours’ door is shut before they completely break down laughing. Dean can barely open the door, but when he finally manages to correctly align the key in the lock, they both tumble into the front room, shaking uncontrollably.

Dean collapses next to the couch, sliding to the floor. He takes a couple of deep breaths before managing to speak. “Sounds like we’re going to your first Christmas party, Cas.”

{o0o}

After making their way through most of the people in the town, two things have been made very clear. First of all, the last anyone had seen of the victims - Adam and Amelia Knapp - was at their office Christmas party. Which nearly everyone in the town had been at, and yet no one knew anything remotely helpful. Secondly, there was another Christmas party being held tomorrow night by the somewhat popular Mitchell family, and the chances of their mystery monster striking were high, in Dean’s opinion.

The most logical course of action would be for Dean and Cas to pretend to be guests at the party, so they could stop their creature before anyone else went missing and then they could disappear back home in time for Christmas. However, Dean had found that nothing in his life could ever be that simple, so instead he found himself standing in front of a wide array of hats, trying to wrestle a fez away from a former angel of the Lord.

Because of course it had to be a costume party, and just as the icing on the cake, it had to be a couples only costume party.

“Dude,” Dean says, finally managing to wrench the fez from Cas’ iron grip, “if we’re wearing hats, at least try a good hat.”

Dean plops an example on Cas’ head, laughing as it slips over his eyes. “These aren’t Christmassy, Dean.”

“Sure they are,” Dean says, grabbing a hat more in Cas’ size and a matching one for him. He strolls over to the till, grabbing a couple more things on the way. “You’ll see.”

Since they have a few hours to kill before the actual party, Dean decides that they can waste some of the day doing some Christmas shopping, especially after he finds out that Cas hasn’t got any presents yet. He drives them to a nearby mall, throws Cas a handful of notes and his antlers, and gives him strict instructions to buy some presents and then meet Dean in the food court in an hour.

“Why can’t we do it together?” Cas asks, and Dean could swear he was pouting.

“Because the presents are supposed to be a surprise,” he explains, shooing Cas away with his hands. “Look, I’ll see you in an hour, and if you need anything you can just call me, ‘kay?”

Cas nods and meanders off, disappearing into the crowd without further complaint.

It is nearly ten minutes later, while he is rummaging through some shirts in an attempt to find one in Sam’s size, when Dean realises that this is the first time that Cas has been alone since he lost his grace. A sudden jolt of panic rushes through him, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath.

Castiel was older than humanity. He had led armies of angels. He had fought against demons and archangels and every monster under the sun. He could handle buying a few Christmas presents.

But, at the same time, Dean can’t help but worry. The dude has questionable social skills at best, and he is still trying to get to grips with his brand new human body. He often has to be reminded to eat or drink water or sleep, and there were several embarrassing occasions in the beginning where he had forgotten entirely.

Dean’s hand itches, his fingers curling towards his back pocket, but he resists the urge to call and check up on Cas. He doesn’t need a babysitter. He tells himself that he should just get his presents for people and then he can meet back up with Cas as soon as possible.

The mall is packed, the usual last rush as people get the last few things they need for Christmas. Conversations and the sound of toddlers crying fight to be heard over the echoing music, festive music adding to the deafening noise. While dodging people, making his way to their meeting place, Dean tries to remember the last time he was in a mall. Certainly not recently - he thinks it may be some time before he met Cas - and he definitely doesn’t remember them making him feel this claustrophobic. The sea of people pushing against him makes him want to throw up, and he finds himself having to duck into the nearest shop to avoid the crowd, shutting his eyes and leaning heavily against a railing.

“Dean?” a deep, familiar voice asks him, concerned. “Are you alright?”

Dean cracks one eye open, laughing when he realises what shop he found Cas in. He knew he should never have introduced him to Hot Topic. “I’m fine, Cas. Just hungry.” he deflects, standing up straight and patting his friend on the shoulder.

Cas gives him a look that says ‘I know you’re lying but I’m going to let you get away with it just this once’ and instead says, “Let me pay for this, and then we can go and get some lunch.”

Not even twenty minutes later, Dean is watching Cas eat a taco for the first time and has completely forgotten that he ever felt bad, because he is laughing too hard to care. Cas looks highly bemused at the stain on his precious trench coat, but Dean thinks that, secretly, he doesn’t mind.

{o0o}

There is no question that they are in the right place when they pull up outside the address they were given a few hours later, if the ridiculous amount of fairy lights and assorted decorations are anything to go by. They can’t help but stare at the blinding display for a moment, before Dean turns to Cas to make sure he remembers the plan. “Okay, so we go in, find our mystery monster-”

“Sam thinks it is a shapeshifter.” Cas interrupts.

“Okay, so we grab this shifter, gank it, grab some food on the way out and then drive home in time for Christmas. You remember the cover story?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Yes, Dean. We’re the Bassons, and we’re thinking about moving here. Do I need to repeat the rest?”

“Alright then, you ready?” Dean intertwines his fingers with Cas’ - in order to keep their cover, obviously - takes a deep breath, and then opens the door.

A wave of heat rolls out from the crowded house, contrasting with the painfully cold air outside. As they step inside, Dean picks up a delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen, a mixture of turkey and cranberry sauce and mulled wine and gravy. The third thing he notices is the music blaring in from the other room, loud enough that he can feel the vibrations thrum through his body. He laughs when he realises what song it is. Space Cowboy; he couldn’t have picked a more fitting song.

After they had come home from their spontaneous shopping spree, Dean had spent an hour making the perfect couple’s costume. Considering the only supplies he had were ones he had picked up from the dollar store, he was actually pretty impressed with his handiwork. Both him and Cas were wearing their normal fed suits, however, it was the hats that really sold it. Dean had affixed - using an alarming amount of superglue - a strand of purple and blue glittery tinsel to his cowboy hat, and a set of fully functional Christmas lights to Cas’.

Cas had protested at first - “How are cowboys Christmas related, Dean?” - until he had been convinced by the hidden practicality of it: any weapons they brought with them could be written off as part of the costume. Also, cowboys are awesome. Dean has yet to find someone who can prove him wrong on that point.

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand to get his attention, nodding towards two people who appear to be the hosts of the party. The music shifts into some Christmas classic, and they make their way over so they can start ruling people off the list of suspects.

An hour later, Dean officially decides that he is never attending a Christmas party again. Luckily, they’ve only had to deal with one homophobe, who Dean ‘accidentally’ dropped a whole plate of food on, but that doesn’t mean that none of the other guests are driving him up the wall. It seems that everyone is slightly drunk apart from them, and the only reason Dean hasn’t joined in is because of the dirty looks Cas sends him every time he so much as glances towards the punch bowl.

It’s the karaoke that does him in. Cas is somewhere (Dean couldn’t tell if he genuinely needed the bathroom, or if that was his attempt at saying he was going to scout the house) and there is a woman wearing a skimpy reindeer outfit and wailing along to Last Christmas. God only knows what caused her to get on top of the table and join in while crying, but Dean suspects the answer includes lots of alcohol and the fact that the man who she had arrived with had disappeared upstairs with an elf some time earlier. Her rendition certainly isn’t going to win any awards.

With Cas not there to see, Dean manages to finish two plastic cups worth of surprisingly nice punch before he can be stopped. Considering the dude has flashing lights on his head, Cas can be remarkably sneaky when he wants to be.

“Dean, I don’t think-”

“Oh, what wonderful costumes!” a woman interrupts, and Dean forces a smile back on his aching face before he turns around to face her, just in time to see wink at him. She is wearing a green dress and is covered in baubles and tinsel, and the man standing next to her is literally wearing a massive cardboard box, wrapped to look like a present. It takes all of Dean’s self control not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

“Thank you,” Cas says, and Dean wraps an arm around his waist in order to confirm that they are, in fact, a couple. The few times he had touched Castiel, he had been cold; it had felt like touching a corpse. As a human, Cas was like a hot water bottle, and even though the house was boiling, Dean couldn’t help but latch onto him whenever the opportunity arose.

“I’m Natasha,” the woman continued, staring at Dean in what he had to assume was her version of ‘seductive’ and completely ignoring Cas. “Oh, and this is Cole,” she adds as an afterthought.

Cole also winks at Dean. He has never felt so uncomfortable in his life, and he went to Hell. Although, he has also never had both members of a couple separately flirt with him while fake dating someone else.

“I’m Dean, and this is Cas,” he replies, pulling the former angel even closer into him. “My husband.”

“Oh,” Cole says, and Dean doesn’t think he is imagining the disappointed tone.

“Sorry,” Natasha adds, not sounding in any way apologetic. “I didn’t realise you were a couple!”

Dean didn’t think he could make it more obvious, but… if she didn’t believe them, then they might be at risk of blowing their cover. There were already at least seven people who had been avoiding them after the usual weird questions and some not quite realistic ploys to get them to touch a silver coin that they had brought with them.

“Why’s that?” he asks, and regrets the question almost as soon as it comes out of his mouth.

“For starters,” Natasha proclaimed, way too eager for this to end well. “You’ve been standing under mistletoe this whole time and haven’t kissed!”

Dean’s whole body freezes as they both look up, and sure enough, the bastard plastic plant is hanging directly over their heads.

“I didn’t realise,” Cas says, somewhat dazedly.

Dean takes a deep breath - there’s nothing they can do now, not with these nosy, weirdass people watching and waiting and expecting a kiss - and pulls Cas closer, turning to face him so their bodies are pressed together. In the dim lights, the lights on Cas’ hat make his startling blue eyes twinkle like starlight, and Dean wonders how he never saw how gorgeous he was before now. Maybe he had, and it had just been buried along with everything else.

“Dean,” Cas’ low voice rumbles, but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

Kissing a man is not so different to kissing a woman, and Dean can’t help but notice how much he likes the feeling of Cas’ chapped lips on his own. Something lights up inside him like a firework, and he realises exactly how much he wanted - no, needed this. He feels better than he has in a long time, as if a missing puzzle piece had suddenly slotted into place.

Cas pulls away first, and Dean’s mind suddenly catches up with his body. Holy shit, he just kissed Cas. He barely registers Natasha and Cole walking away, still transfixed by the fact he finds a former angel of the Lord - who is a man - devastatingly handsome.

“Dean. Dean, are you okay?” It is only the feeling of Cas’ body heat leaving him that gets him to look down, absentmindedly fixing the shorter man’s hat.

“Yeah,” Dean replies, choking on the words. “Yeah, I just gotta - I’m just gonna…”

And, like a complete and utter cowardly dick, he walks away.

{o0o}

It has been twenty minutes, so Dean can be fairly certain that Cas isn’t gonna come looking for him. Which is fine. It’s not like he was expecting him to. They only kissed to keep up the pretense, and Dean’s weird behaviour has probably ruined that anyway. It meant nothing.

The problem is that Dean can’t stop thinking about how amazing it had felt to kiss Cas. He had tasted like mulled wine and honey and the promise of a thousand lazy mornings. It had felt like flying and drowning all at once. Dean had never understood when people had described kisses as things that had nothing to do with the act, like earthquakes or lightning or fireworks, but the only way he could explain the ecstasy he had felt when their lips had touch was an act of God.

And that thought only spiraled into another: Dean had kissed an angel of the Lord. An angel. Even though Cas was human now, he still remembered the birth of existence and every word that came out of his mouth was fueled by eons of knowledge and memories and experience. He held himself with a grace that only a true warrior can execute, and to him, Dean must seem so small. How insignificant was he compared to that brilliant man?

Finally, there it is. The real issue. Castiel is a man.

It had taken some time, but Dean had taught himself, eventually, that John Winchester was a terrible parent. In fact, it was generous to call him a parent at all. It was Dean who had raised Sam, raised himself. And, even now, he couldn’t help but fall back into his old mindset, into an old version of Dean who would have done anything for his father’s approval. But, if he is being honest with himself - and, let’s be frank, it’s about time - Castiel was not the first man he had liked. He probably wasn’t even the third.

In that moment, Dean decides that he doesn’t want to be a coward any longer. If he never expected his life to be a long one, then it is all the more reason to go for what he wants now, rather than later.

Yeah, maybe he’ll lose Cas, but… the possibility of what could await him if Cas does reciprocate is far more frightening than the former angel laughing in his face.

{o0o}

Castiel considers himself very knowledgeable in Dean Winchester’s emotions. He knows exactly how long to avoid Dean after eating a slice of his pie, he knows that he can hold full conversations with just a look, and, as an example, he knows that after their kiss, Dean Winchester was panicking. Badly.

That was fine. Castiel was fine with that. It wasn’t like he had been secretly in love with a man who had repeatedly called him a brother for over ten years. Nothing like that.

Sighing, Cas gently puts his paper plate on the corner of the kitchen table, the food he had been so excited to try half an hour ago now making his stomach roll. He figured that Dean had just needed some air; he would cool down, shove all of his emotions down in true Winchester fashion, and then return and pretend that nothing ever happened. The problem wasn’t just with the fact that Cas would very much be remembering that kiss until the day he died, but that Dean had been a really long time.

Time moves differently now that he was human. As an angel, everything seemed to move so much faster. There was always something to do, the faint crackling of angel radio like a comforting background noise or a million particles to study. A blink of his eye and a century could have passed, and yet here he is, thirty minutes feeling like an eternity.

It’s by the time Cas has checked every room downstairs that he really starts to worry.

Dean is not in the kitchen stuffing his face, and he is not in the dining room drinking punch, and he is not dancing to the rather annoying upbeat song that is playing in the living room. He is not in the hallway, or on the stairs, or in the bathroom. When Cas starts asking, people give conflicting answers. A bauble saw him go upstairs, a Christmas tree could swear he was in the kitchen, an elf insists that he went outside.

Since it is the only place he hasn’t checked, Cas heads outside. There, on the floor, is Dean’s stupid hat, the tinsel loose on one side, dangling pathetically into a puddle of melted snow.

Cas immediately calls Sam, who picks up surprisingly quickly. “Cas? What’s up?”

“ImighthavekissedDeanandnowIdon’tknowwhereheis-”

“Cas, slow down,” Sam urges, forcing Cas to take a deep breath before continuing.

“We’re, uh, at a couples’ only party, and we had to kiss and then Dean freaked out but he’s been gone for ages and I think he is in trouble,” Cas says, only marginally slower than before.

“Shit. Okay, send me the address. We’re on our way.”

Sam, Cas thinks as he tries a door handle that he missed before, is excellent at coming up with plans. Maybe it’s the time spent in college, maybe it’s his years of hunting experience, but even over the phone he had pointed out things that Cas had failed to spot. Like, for example, the door to the basement.

Cas turns the phone flashlight on like Dean taught him, the beam still not strong enough to light up the impenetrable darkness. The music fades to a distant hum in the background, becoming distorted and frantic as Cas feels. His eyes have barely adjusted enough to see the familiar but unconscious form on the ground - “Dean?” - before something solid connects with the back of his head, and Cas tumbles forwards, crumpling at the bottom of the stairs.

{o0o}

“Cas?”

Cas groans. When he had finally fallen completely, he had been surprised by how much being human hurts. Something always aches, and everything is so easy to damage. Even the smallest of injuries - a stubbed toe or a papercut - hurts way more than it should.

Apparently, a combination of blunt force trauma to the back of the head and the general bruises one acquires from falling down a flight of stairs hurt a lot more than a stubbed toe.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” A familiar voice asks, and Cas tries to turn his head so that he can see Dean, instead finding out that that particular head movement causes his vision to blur and swim. When he attempts to bring his hands up to survey the damage, he can’t understand why they don't move for a moment, before his brain finally manages to catch up and he remembers the night’s events.

So, maybe he wasn’t expecting his first kiss with Dean to be followed by being kidnapped and tied up in a basement, but this is a Winchester they are talking about here.

“Come on, talk to me here.” Dean says, sounding worried.

Cas swallows, aiming to say something to ease Dean’s concern and instead causing a coughing fit. “I’m fine,” he eventually manages to gasp.

Dean snorts. “Sure sound like it.”

They are silent for a moment, the only sounds in the room an echoing drip and Cas’ raspy breaths. Cas isn’t sure how long they have been down there, but since Dean isn’t wriggling about in an attempt to escape, it has probably been long enough that he has already checked whether or not he can untie himself. From what Cas’ fumbling fingers can tell, though, the knots keeping them bound to this stupid pole are very good.

He feels utterly pathetic. He used to be a soldier - he had led armies, fought battles that humans couldn’t even comprehend - and here he was now, entirely useless, taken out by a baseball bat and kept prisoner by a length of rope. If he was still an angel this would have never happened. He could have saved Dean, he would have killed whoever did this, and they would have been back in time to enjoy the end of the party.

“What do we do now?” Cas asks, finally breaking the silence.

Dean sighs, and Cas can feel him against his back as his whole body sags down. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do but wait.”

Cas didn’t think he had ever heard Dean give up so easily, and it scared him. “What?”

“I don’t exactly see a way out of this, Cas. I’ve been trying to get these ropes off for half an hour and I think they’re probably just tighter than they were when I started.”

Cas gave an experimental yank, and Dean hissed in pain. Suddenly, the wetness on Cas’ hands made sense. “You’re bleeding, Dean.”

The hunter didn’t reply.

Cas had always thought that his death would be noble. Previously, it had always at least been in battle or a sacrifice, but this was just… pitiful. He was going to die at the hands of some random shapeshifter in someone’s disgusting basement, while wearing a cowboy costume.

“I - uh, I just wanted to say,” Dean starts, sounding unsure, “that I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s fine, Dean,” he replies, shutting his eyes in an attempt to block out the conversation. If he was going to die, he would rather not be rejected first.

“It was a dick move,” Dean continues, as if he hadn’t heard Cas. “I was just - I mean - I want to say…”

“What, Dean?”

Dean’s voice is barely a whisper. “I think I’d like to kiss you again.”

Cas’ eyes snap back open, and he hits his head on the pole in his confusion. “You would?”

“You don’t… I thought… I mean, I’m just kid-”

“Shut up,” Cas interrupts, not wanting Dean to panic all over again. “I would like that.”

“Oh. Really? Okay,” Dean replies, and Cas shuffles around until he manages to hold his hand. It’s sticky and wet with blood where Dean’s wrists have been hurt by the ropes, and every aching muscle in Cas’ body screams at the awkward position, but he thinks it might still be the happiest he has ever been.

{o0o}

Dean isn’t sure how long it is until he hears the footsteps on the stairs, but it’s long enough for him to feel much too tired for a fight. Can’t the universe just let him be happy for once? Is it too much to ask to not have to fight tooth and claw for one scrap of peace?

“Well, hello there,” a man’s voice says, and Dean feels Cas stiffen. It sounds oddly familiar, but he can’t quite place his finger on where he would have heard it before.

That is, until a second voice speaks. “What have we got here, Harold?”

The next-door neighbours. The old couple who had been complaining about the parties. Of course the only two people in this godforsaken town who they hadn’t checked were the bad guys. He should have seen it. They should have asked them more questions when they weren’t tied to this stupid pole in this stupid fucking basement.

“A pair of cowboys, Ann,” Harold tuts, and Dean cannot believe he is about to be killed by a weird old couple, of all things. He had prevented the apocalypse at least twice, had defeated God, and yet he was going to be killed by the monster of the week. Who looked like they were about three hundred years old, owned fifty cats and knitted in their spare time.

Ann walks around them, her heels clacking on the stone floor, until she comes to a stop in front of Dean. “What a shame,” she says, looking down at him like he was a stain on her shoe. “I was hoping we’d get a crier. Men rarely cry. Apart from that last fellow, of course.”

Dean’s stomach rolls, and he suddenly regrets eating so many pigs in blankets at the party.

“What are you?” Cas practically growls, his hand squeezing Dean’s to comfort him.

“Whatever do you mean, son?” Harold asks, and he sounds genuinely confused.

Oh shit, Dean thinks, letting out an amused huff of breath. Great. He isn’t even going to be killed by the monster of the week. He’s gonna be killed by an actual old person.

“Is something funny, sweetie?” Ann demands, frowning.

Dean smiles up at her, deciding that he may as well die how he lived: a snarky bastard. “Sorry, I just can’t believe that I got kidnapped by someone’s grandma.”

Ann steps closer to him, crouching down so she is his height. A sliver of silver reflects in the dim light like a shooting star, slicing downwards and cutting a thin line across Dean’s neck. “Don’t give me cheek, boy.”

“Let’s kill the other one first, sweetheart. Then that rude fella has to watch his boyfriend die.” Harold suggests, spitting out the word ‘boyfriend’ like it physically hurts him.

Dean clutches Cas’ hand tighter, trying not to let the panic that is welling up inside him, cold and merciless, show on his face. He tugs desperately at the ropes around his wrists one more time, hoping for a miracle that he knows isn’t coming.

“Say goodbye, now.” Ann says, and Dean shuts his eyes. He knows that he can’t deal with losing Cas again, even if he’ll be gone soon after. He spares a brief thought wondering where Cas will go when he dies; is he human enough to avoid the Empty? And even so, would he go to Heaven or Hell?

“I love you, Cas,” Dean whispered, because even though he is scared, he knows that Cas deserves to know.

If Cas says anything back, Dean doesn’t hear it over the gunshot.

{o0o}

Dying was not a new experience for Castiel, nor was dying as a human. What was a new experience was the pain he felt in his chest that no bullet or knife could replicate. It was the knowledge that he had the opportunity to be happy and it had been ripped from him. It was knowing that someone loved him and cared for him and was being taken away from him.

When Harold dropped dead instead of Cas, his heart fluttered. Maybe he did have a chance.

“Dean, are you alright?” Sam’s voice calls out, and Cas finally allows himself to relax slightly.

“Sam?” Dean asks, surprise and confusion and relief all mixed together.

Eileen appears from nowhere and stoops down, grinning at Cas and slicing through the ropes. She winks at him but doesn’t say anything, simply helping him to his feet when it becomes obvious he can’t do it by himself. Sam has backed Ann into the corner of the room, his gun pointed at her with an unwavering hand, but Dean whispers something in his ear and he lowers it slightly. He signs something over his shoulder, not even glancing away from the threat, and Eileen rushes off upstairs, essentially shoving the injured Castiel into Dean’s side.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” Dean asks gently, wrapping his arm around Cas’ waist to hold him up. His wrists are still bleeding and they are both cold from sitting in a freezing basement for ages, but the simple action fills Cas with a warmness.

“I’ve been in love with you for twelve years, you assbutt,” he mumbles.

Dean smiles down at him, somehow looking charming even covered in dirt and blood, only looking up when Sam clears his throat.

“Look, we should get out of here,” Sam suggests, standing up. He’s tied Ann to the same post that they thought would be their deathbed only a few minutes ago, and he is shooing them towards the stairs back up to the party. “Eileen’s getting someone to call the cops and we don’t wanna be here when they arrive.”

Cas ducks down, for a moment, holding Dean’s hand so he doesn’t completely keel over, and grabs the two hats off the ground. Reaching up, he puts his on before gently placing Dean’s on his head. The tinsel is falling off on one side, the lights have run out of battery, and they are both caked in dirt, but it still makes Dean smile.

“Let’s go home,” Dean says, leaning down and softly kissing Cas.

{o0o}

Much to Dean’s surprise, Sam and Eileen said nothing about his new relationship with Cas. In fact, when he tried to bring it up - he knew Sam had seen them kissing for Christ’s sake - Sam just shook his head and rolled his eyes at Dean. “Jody owes me fifty dollars,” was all he said, and their discussion was over.

Cas didn’t seem too perturbed by the whole situation, and Dean found himself wondering whether it was just him who found their new relationship strange. Not that anything much had changed, for that matter. They both behaved the exact same way, with added kissing. So what if Sam thought Dean was weird for still calling Cas ‘buddy’? He wasn’t the one dating a former angel.

What Dean had decided, after their fun little kidnapping escapade, was that Cas deserved an awesome Christmas. It was his first one as a human, after all, and what kind of boyfriend would Dean be if he didn’t show Cas all the wonders of the holiday season?

And that is how they found themselves turning the drive home into a Christmas road trip.

Cas wore his reindeer antlers wherever possible, and Dean took a million photos of him. On the first day, they visited a Christmas market. Dean thought it was much too busy and annoying, but it was all worth it for the smile Cas had after drinking his first hot chocolate. On the second day, they went to a drive-in movie. Cas gave both the funniest and most irritating running commentary that Dean had ever heard, having to remind him every five minutes that “it’s a romcom, Cas. It’s not supposed to make sense.”

On Christmas Eve, they spent most of the day driving to make sure they got home in time for the dinner that Sam and Eileen had promised. They sang carols at full volume and blasted Christmas songs and Dean taught Cas how to play the air guitar. Dean couldn’t remember a time when he had felt such a sense of freedom and happiness. Maybe it was just a Christmas miracle.

Christmas day rolled around, and it was the nicest Christmas that Dean could remember having. Sam and Eileen had decorated the entire bunker with tinsel and streamers, and had even managed to bring in a huge tree from outside. So maybe not all the decorations on it were technically Christmas related, but the silver bullets were shiny and although no one was quite sure what the pentagram they were using a star on the top did, it looked pretty cool.

By the evening, they had eaten enough food to feed twenty people for a week and had exchanged presents. Sam was sitting at the table with his new fancy pens, Eileen had disappeared to take a shower with her new soaps, and Cas and Dean were firmly planted on the couch. Cas’ new fuzzy socks were warm and ticklish against Dean’s feet, and the angel was a surprisingly good cuddler.

All of a sudden, Dean sat up, dragging Cas with him. “Come on, dude. We should dance.”

Cas snorted but agreed, wrapping his arms around Dean tightly. They swayed slowly to the music, his head on Cas’ shoulder, gently singing along to the slow music.

Now you hang from my lips

Like the Gardens of Babylon

With your boots beneath my bed

Forever is the sweetest con.

Dean’s mouth twists into a smile. “I could spend forever with you,” he whispers, and he leans down to kiss his angel again.

#i hope you enjoy!#destiel #destiel secret santa #my writing #fanfic

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

We’re Five (and a half)

“Catherine, this isn’t going to work!”

“Will you stop complaining? You’ve been on my ass about this since we got back from the hospital! Understand that Anna’s only understudy that’s free today won’t get here until her plane lands. Which will take four more hours!! We don’t have a choice!”

“Isn’t there anyone else that can go on as Anna of Cleves?”

“Unless you can magically pull another girl who has all the lines and blocking memorized out of your ass, then I don’t think so!”

“Well, at least you don’t have to stand next to her!”

“Will you just be quiet?! You are driving me insane! And don’t forget it’s Kitty’s fault that more blood had to be taken!”

“It is not!”

“She played with the pouch and dropped it!!”

“...So?”

“Oh my god—”

Aragon rolled her eyes at the silver queen and stomped onto the stage. She diminished her rage when she got near their Anna of Cleves understudy- Joan, who had three pints of blood sucked out of her just an hour ago after the first two pouches were ruined by slippery hands and a certain hot pink queen with a mother who refuses to own up to what her daughter did. The blood was for the actual Cleves since the woman was going through surgery to get a hernia removed and Joan was the only person who shared her rare blood type: O-. And because she couldn’t be there, her donor had to go on for that evening show for her. And it wouldn’t have been a problem if, again, it hadn’t been three whole pints.

“How are you feeling, sweet girl?” Aragon asked, gently touching the understudy’s shoulder.

Joan looked up from her hands, which she had been gazing at as if they were made out of the most valuable jewels in human history. She blinked several times, but her eyes still remained very cloudy. Her pupils were way too big.

“‘M fine,” She said, reaching out to also touch Aragon’s shoulder, but missing completely. Her hand awkwardly flaps in the air, not understanding why there wasn’t a queen under its palm, then pulled back after a moment of hovering. “I’m feeling...great!”

Aragon smiled wryly. “That’s good. The costume feels okay?”

Joan looked down at the light blue alt costume she had been put into, since Cleves’ actual one didn’t fit her. She looked back up at Aragon with an awed expression.

“I forgot I was even wearing clothes!” She exclaimed. “Wow. This is very.....” She trailed off.

“Joan.” Aragon shook her slightly.

“Hi.” Joan snapped awake. She reached out and felt Aragon’s face. “Hello.”

“Hello, sweetheart.” Aragon replied. “We’re going to get started really soon. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Joan nodded lazily. “I got all the lines! And dances!”

“Good.”

“Great.”

Aragon gave her another quick smile before patting her shoulder and getting into line with the others. Several of them were glancing nervously at Joan, who kept swaying treacherously on the heels she was wearing.

“Ooh can’t see—” Joan said after the blackout.

“Hsst.” Jane hissed.

It wasn’t long before Ex-Wives began and it went surprisingly well. Not great, not even good, but it was enough. Perhaps new viewers would think that Anna of Cleves bumping into literally everyone was how the song was always scripted. But at least the little blood Joan still had pumping through her body fueled her enough to stay in tune and remember all the wounds, even if the introduction solo was mumbled more than spoken. But still!! They made it— SHE made it.

Somehow.

The show ran through the first speaking portion until they eventually got to the first lady in waiting shout-out. The sudden rise in Aragon’s tone seemed to snap Joan out of whatever reverie that had been hypnotizing her and she spun around to face the band so fast she nearly spiraled right down to the floor in a tornado of baby blue and black rhinestones.

“We got Maggie on the guitar!” Anne shouted, and her dear friend played her solo.

“Bessie...yeah!” Joan said helpfully, flapping a hand in the bassist’s direction, who was so daunted by the awkward introduction that she hesitated a second before rushing into her solo.

“And killing it on the keys, we got Joan,” Jane said, slightly startled by the actual Joan’s mess up.

“That’s me,” Joan whispered to herself as she alt played her bit.

“And with beats so sick they’ll give you gout is Maria on the drums!” Aragon said hurriedly, casting Joan an uneasy glance.

“So, you’ve come to party with us old school.” Joan said right after, and although her timing was on point, she somehow managed to slur every single word in the line.

“Really, really old school,” Jane recited, then began to laugh. Joan laughed, too, until Kitty not-so-subtly kicked her in the shin, which was nearly enough to bring her to the floor if Jane hadn’t shot out an arm and grabbed the girl by the shoulder. Her laughter died off as she craned her neck around and shot Kitty a “don’t you dare do that again or so help me—” look.

Jane didn’t release Joan’s shoulder until they got to the “we’ve heard it all” bit. She actually found herself wincing when she pulled her hand back and saw the five angry red marks left in the girl’s skin from her pointy, perfectly manicured fingernails.

“Who lasted the longest was the strongest.”

“The biggest sinner is always the winner.”

“Who had the son takes number one.”

“Who was most chased shall be first...”

“Placed,” Jane whispered.

“Cased!” Joan shouted with too much volume and enthusiasm.

“No, placed!” Jane whisper-yelled again.

“Huh?”

“Who was most chased shall be first placed!” Jane finally just said for Joan.

“...The most inglorious shall be victorious!”

“The winning contestant was the most Protestant!”

And so, the show went on, punctuated by perfectly recited lines by five queens and horribly slurred ones by a lady in waiting missing three pints of her blood.

No Way soon began. All the singing and lines were done as usual, no problem, everything on point. The dancing, on the other hand... Well, the Anna of Cleves was a bit off, reviewers would definitely say after that performance. Like, really off. Like, “she’s two feet away from the other dancers and is continuously being chased down, grappled, and pulled back over by the Catherine Parr” kind of off. But nobody fell over, so it was okay!

However, those reviewers would definitely also mention how the Anna of Cleves weirdly said, “Why is she on her phone?” and then got mouthed to “shut the fuck up” by the Jane Seymour and Katherine Howard during the bit right before Don’t Lose Ur Head. But again! Nobody fell during that song, either! But then again, there were several close calls... That Anna of Cleves was wobbling A LOT. And then there was the blocking for Wearing Yellow To A Funeral where she would reach out and grab Anne Boleyn to stop her from cussing, but she apparently reached way too far, tipped forward, and definitely would have careened right off the stage if the Anne hadn’t spun around and caught her a second before she keeled over the edge.

“Over my dead body,” Aragon said immediately after that predicament, although her voice was lacking its usual bite to the words. It was covered up completely by worry for the girl Anne was trying to stand up straight.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jane said, moving on. “I’m pretty sure it’s my turn now.”

“You?” Joan said, voice dripping with exhaustion and fatigue. Her energy was running out fast.

“Oh, weren’t you the one he truly loved?” Kitty teased.

“Yeah, didn’t you give him the son he so desperately wanted?” Aragon added.

“Yeah, I actually had a daughter and he copped my head off.” Anne quipped.

“I had a son named Hercules,” Joan mused, and Cathy quickly covered her mouth before Kitty could kick her again.

Jane began her monologue and then soon started Heart of Stone. Aragon guided Joan over to the steps so she and the other queens could sit down during that song.

“How are you feeling?” Aragon whispered to Joan, rubbing her shoulder tenderly.

“Huh?” Joan said loudly, which caused a cacophony of “Shh!”’s and a confused glance over the shoulder by Jane.

“I asked how you’re feeling,” Aragon said again. She took one of Joan’s hands and stroked the knuckles with her thumb. She couldn’t tell if the girl was trembling out of fear or exhaustion—maybe both? Or maybe she was just vibrating as a symptom of blood loss.

“Oh.” Joan said. Then, she threw her head back, laughed, and didn’t say anything.

Kitty groaned and rolled her eyes. “We can’t keep her on anymore. She’s ruining the show!”

“Will you shut your fucking mouth?” Aragon hissed. “You kicked her! Oh yeah, don’t think I didn’t see that one, princess.”

Kitty huffed and looked away angrily.

“Yeah, but she has a point,” Anne said gently. “Look at her. Joan is suffering.”

“No I’m not,” Joan mumbled. “‘M just tired...” Her head lolled to the side and rested against Aragon’s shoulder.

“See!”

“No, no, no, no—” Joan spoke again. “I’m just- I’m okay— I just— Do you think I can sit down during Haus of Holbein?”

———

“Not only did the show as a whole feel like a humorous fever dream,” A Gen Z reviewer would later report on their blog, “but the most relatable thing that happened in the entire performance was when the Anna of Cleves sang Haus on Holbein while waving glow sticks and wearing giant light up sunglasses on the floor!”

———

mess

/mes/

a situation or state of affairs that is confused or full of difficulties.

"the economy is still in a terrible mess"

Calling Get Down such a word would be an understatement.

If it wasn’t the slurred singing, then it was the way Joan would seemingly black out in the middle of the song, and if it wasn’t either of those, then it was definitely how she felt the need to say, “I don’t know how to snap” into the microphone at the very beginning when everyone was supposed to snap along to the beat.

But that wasn’t all. Unfortunately.

The lack of blood in her body already made her very dizzy and out of it, but all the dancing and moving around definitely wasn’t helping. Her ankles would frequently buckle under her own weight and she would stumble awkwardly to the side, causing one of the other queens to frantically scramble after her and steady her.

And then there was the part where she was supposed to squat and sing to the front row near the very end. But that didn’t go as planned, because she was unable to hold herself up while kneeling and would have fallen right off the stage if Aragon hadn’t lunged forward and caught her. She then had to hold Joan up for the rest of that bit and then held her back to her feet afterwards. As she was slur-singing, Joan patted Aragon’s shoulder in thanks—except she missed Aragon’s shoulder and instead patted her face. Several times.

“Cause I’m the queen of the castle!” Joan finally concluded, then nearly fell over again, but the queens managed to anchor her upright. She winced at the applause she got. “Absolutely..heartbreaking....”

“That doesn’t sound horrible at all,” Aragon said.

“You- you are horrible..at all,” Joan garbled, stumbling forward slightly and Anne has to jump forward quickly and assist her down the staircase before she could fall and hurt herself. “I probably...won’t win the..uhh. Oh well, back to the— the— uh...”

“Palace,” The queens whispered in unison.

“Back to the palace!”

And so, the show went on. At that point, Joan’s brain had practically melted- the poor girl couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t anymore, and was solely running on muscle memory. Which wasn’t much because she wasn’t a regular performer.

“Guys, I have...the plague!” Joan shouted after the “boohoo baby Mary” speech by Jane. The queens turned to her and, as scripted, began to fuss and worry loudly. “Lol! Just kidding! I just got three pints of blood taken out of me and now I can’t feel a—”

A series of loud hushes and stern looks came from the queens until she shut her mouth. She gave them all a tired, pitiful look, now regretting her decision to do this—although she didn’t really remember WHAT she was doing at this point. She’s pretty sure she was performing...but she wasn’t completely sure.

All You Wanna Do soon began and that seemed to be an eternity of wrong dance moves, slurred harmonies, awkwardly placed hands on Kitty’s body, and several kicks from Kitty herself. In Joan’s shins.

During the big fight after that song, Joan just stood there looking dazed. The queens waited for her to say her line about Cathy’s consciousness, but she didn’t, so Anne had to jump in and say it for her while Kitty glared at the delirious understudy.

After that, I Don’t Need Your Love started up and Joan was content to just sit down and let her heart rest and resupply her body with blood, but she soon had to get back on her feet during the segment in the middle of the song.

“Who was Henry the VII’s wife?” Cathy asked.

Over the mix “I don’t know”’s, Joan mumbled, “I don’t even know where I am...”

Which was true. The blood loss was REALLY getting to her head.

“Yeah, because if we had realized,” Aragon said further in, “we could have thought of some really cool ways to, like, reclaim our stories for ourselves. You know, remove Henry’s love from our lives once and for all.”

“Aww,” Joan whined. “We could have done it as a thong.”

“SONG—” The queens yelped in a harmony of panic.

“Song!” Joan quickly corrected herself, but the damage was already done. The audience was going nuts at her mistake. Now the remainders of I Don’t Need Your Love would never recover. And it didn’t. But it was over.

Joan couldn’t stand still as she stood in the lineup for the last few lines. Her eyes kept closing and then snapping open—she didn’t know how much longer she could stay awake.

“We may just be remembered for being...” She trailed off tiredly.

“Married to Henry,” Kitty hissed, fed up with the understudy.

“Carried to Penry.” Joan said.

After a few confused glances to her, the show went on...somehow.

“Yes, we can redefine how we tell our stories,” Aragon said as the show was wrapping up, “but we can’t rewrite them.”

“And we wished we could tell you our lives had happy endings.” Jane added.

“But in...brutality...corn mint...” Joan slurred, then nearly collapsed but Jane was able to get her by the arm and hold her upright. Jane also had to keep her from beelining off the stage after the mock-ending.

“This is our show and we can literally do whatever we want!” Anne said, waltzing back up to the front of the stage. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Jane tugging Joan along with her.

“So, London, because we have five minutes left of the show!” Kitty went on, then looked at Joan expectantly.

Except Joan didn’t say her next line.

“We’ve decided to do our own,” Jane mouthed to Joan.

“Cheese hymen to do our clone,” Joan attempted to recite.

Jane stared at her in baffled horror before sputtering out, “Edited version.”

“Of what...really went down...all those years...bow tie....” Joan gurgled, her eyes fluttering shut. Kitty elbowed her in the rib cage to wake her up, which was rude, but at least worked. For now.

“Because we’re one of a kind,” Cathy began, glancing nervously at the understudy’s swaying form.

“No category,” Kitty went on.

“Chew many tears,” Joan mumbled weakly, and nobody cared enough to correct her at that point.

“Lost in history,”

“We’re free,”

“To take our crown in glory,”

“For five minutes,” They all, minus Joan, who was just awkwardly babbling along, harmonized. “We’re Six!”

And so, Six began. And it went really well if you didn’t look at the understudy for Anna of Cleves standing very still, clapping out of tune with everyone else. Or listen to the way she sang her bit as, “What a shame...la la la la la la la la la......” and then just hummed the rest weakly.

The show soon concluded. The final applause was given. There was an uproar of cheers, despite the awkwardness that happened during the entire performance. But it was over!

“Do you want one more song?” Kitty said, smirking teasingly at the audience.

The people cheered, ready for the MegaSix, and it was at that moment when Joan finally collapsed.

Kitty looked at her, then looked back at the audience, and said, “Nevermind.”

#please read I tried very hard to make this funny and not angsty #six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six fanfiction #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #katherine howard #catherine parr #joan on the keys #we're five (and a half)

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madamebaggio · 5 years

Text

Caring Deeply

Anne x Gilbert ONE SHOT

Possible spoilers for season 3!

Notes: I promised a friend to make a one-shot with this idea she had, so...

I’ve done it and now I’m sharing it with you all.

Hope you like it!

***

After Mary’s passing Marilla and Anne tried to help Gilbert and Bash as much as possible. They had little Delphine, and -although he was better -Bash was still lost without Mary.

This was what made Anne the saddest; Mary and Bash were so good together, so full of love and they had a whole life ahead of them. It seemed unfair that Mary had to go like this.

Gilbert seemed to be better, but she could never tell with him. Everytime Anne thought she had Gilbert figured out something happened and kicked that notion aside.

She knew she could try harder to understand him, however she’d been on her guard for so long when it came to him, she didn’t even know where to begin.

And the thing was… She hadn’t liked when he talked about giving up on his dream. Seeing Gilbert -Gilbert Blythe! -without hope was sadder than Anne thought it might be.

But that was friendly interest from her. She cared for him as friend. Not the same way she might care about Diana or Cole -because they were more than friends, they were souls made to meet -but she cared about him. Like a human being. Or something.

Anyway, if she could help somehow, then she would.

That was why she was at Gilbert’s house today.

Matthew had come around to help with something related to the farm -Anne would have to confess she hadn’t paid attention to that part of the conversation. She could hear Gilbert finishing his homework in the other room -she’d finished hers already! Marilla had taken Delphine to Green Gable, because she had things to do there.

Anne was supposed to leave some things ready in the kitchen, in a way that would make their lives easier, without wasting food. Fortunately, Mary had taught her a few tricks.

She could come back in a few days and do it again, and maybe leave…

“Ouch!” Anne yelped as she cut her finger.

That was what she got for not paying attention to what she was doing.

Anne dropped her knife on the table and looked around for a clean rag.

“Anne?” Gilbert called from the other room. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” She called back, finally finding a rag. “I just cut myself.” Her tone was derisive, but directed at herself for her lack of attention.

She really didn’t expect Gilbert to come barreling in the kitchen, an absolute wild look about his eyes. “You cut yourself?”

“Yes.” She answered carefully. “Gilbert, it’s just a small cut.”

“That was we thought about Mary!” He spoke, clearly beside himself with worry. “I was the one that cleaned her wound, and I thought it was fine.”

“Gilbert.”

“And I was wrong! And she is gone.”

“Gilbert.”

“I can’t take this, Anne.” He suddenly turned to her, his hands grabbing her shoulders, and Anne saw he was one second away from actually crying. “If something happens to you, and it’s my fault…”

“Gilbert!” She shouted, shocking him into silence. “It was just my finger.” She showed him said finger, and its minimal cut. It wasn’t even bleeding anymore.

Gilbert stared at her finger for a long time, like he couldn’t assimilate what he was seeing. Then it was like he woke up from a dream; he shook his head and looked at her, then his hands on her shoulder.

“Oh my…” He let go of her and took a step back. “Anne, I am so sorry. I…”

“Have you been carrying this guilt with you all the time?” She asked, her voice full of concern.

Gilbert cleared his throat and gave her his back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Gilbert.” She grabbed him by the shoulder and made him look at her again. “You think Mary died because you didn’t care for her properly.” It was so obvious now. Why Gilbert was quiet, why he didn’t want to be a doctor anymore.

He’d been the one to dress Mary wound and she’d died of sepsis. He felt he’d done something wrong, and he’d been carrying this.

Alone.

“I checked the wound, I cleaned it. I know I did.” He was talking, but Anne didn’t feel it was to her. “And yet…” He stopped talking and that one tear fell down.

She grabbed his hand. “You listen to me, Gilbert Blythe.” She told him firmly. “I know you did all you could, and that you would’ve done more if you could. I know you’d have done anything for her. Nobody would’ve done better for her, because you cared more deeply than anyone else would have cared.”

He was looking at her, and Anne just hoped he understood what she was saying.

“Caring deeply will always be the right thing.” He murmured to her the words she’d spoken to him before.

“Yes.” She whispered. “Exactly.”

He sighed and squeezed her hand a bit. “Thank you. How come you always know just what to say?” He discreetly wiped his tear and Anne let him get away with it.

She gave a breathless chuckle. “It is the advantage of having such an extensive vocabulary.”

Gilbert offered her a small smile. “Are you sure you are fine?”

She showed him her finger again. “Just a very small cut.”

Gilbert gently grabbed her hand to take a closer look at her finger. “You’re right, just a small cut.”

It should be a simple gesturing, just a caring sign, but… Anne’s heart was going all over the place over it. She didn’t know what was happening.

“Yes. Miniscule.”

“I’ve heard there is a great medicine for that.”

There was something a bit mischievous in his eyes, and Anne didn’t know if she liked it or not. (It was a lie, she liked it a lot.)

“Really?”

��Yes.” He was looking intently at her now. “It is something simple.”

“What is it?” Why were they whispering if they were the only ones in the house?

Slowly -so slowly that Anne thought it might have taken hours -Gilbert lowered his head, his eyes still fixed on hers, like he was waiting for her reaction -for a protest, perhaps? - until she could feel his breath on her finger, he closed his eyes and then…

Then she felt his lips dropping a single kiss to her finger, a soft kiss so gentle she barely felt it. Her heart felt it, though. The thing was beating so insanely, she wondered if Marilla could hear it back home.

Time seemed to stop as he raised his head to look at her again, something tentative and questioning in his eyes. “Anne…”

Two things became quite clear to Anne in that moment: Gilbert had panicked because it was her. Not just because of what had happened to Mary, but because she was the one hurt now. And the second one was...

Well…

She really wanted to feel his lips again.

What should she do?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to figure that out, because Gilbert cupped her face with his right hand and leaned back in her direction, this time clearly aiming for her lips.

In the seconds before he reached them, Anne felt like a thousand thoughts crossed her mind, the most pressing one was to keep breathing normally.

And he kissed her!

There were no words she could use to describe that feeling. His lips were chapped, but they were still painfully soft and gentle. His thumb was caressing her face and his other hand was still holding hers, and Anne felt like was floating and falling at the same time, over and over again.

Her free hand moved on its own violation, until it rested on his chest and she moved a bit closer, inebriated on him and this feeling. His other hand went to her waist, pulling her even closer as one kiss turned into another and another and another…

The world was spiralling in color and sensation and Anne felt like she would never see things the same way again.

Her hands closed on his shirt, looking for something solid to hold her to the ground, or she would fly out of that window. She just felt she wanted more and more.

There was something so sweet about this, so right, so…

It was Bash’s voice that brought her back to Earth.

She could hear him talking to Matthew, which meant they were coming to the house!

Gilbert clearly didn’t hear it, but he did notice she’d stiffened. Then he must have heard the voices too, because he took a hurried step away.

“There you are.” Matthew smiled entering the kitchen. “We came for some tea.”

“Sure!” Anne said brightly -too brightly, oh no! -and hurried to prepare said tea.

Bash was looking from one to the other -would he know? HOW? -but didn’t say anything, but Anne was almost sure he was giving Gilbert knowing looks.

Anne busied herself with tea as the conversation settled around her, but once the men were sitting and she started serving them, her eyes found Gilbert, and he was already looking at her, with a soft smile on his face.

She smiled back and felt that this special secret was something that belonged to them and nobody else.

For the first time in days, Anne was perfectly happy.

#madame baggio #one shot #anne with an e #anne shirley #anne shirly cuthbert #gilbert blythe #anne x gilbert #season 3 #post episode 3

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cardandpixel · 4 years

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9 Board Game YouTubers I Follow & Why (plus a few others)

In the literal dim and distant past when I started boardgaming (honestly, the biggest threat was tallow wax on your board), the internet was still accessed by whatever IP address you could remember off the top of your head (there’s no place like 127.0.0.1 as they sayI) - and the only TikTok was the clock ticking, waiting for half of Louise Nurding’s left leg to download only to realise it was Anne Widdecombe and you’d hit the wrong link on a BB. Boardgames had some quiet and shady corners of the internet, in those same Bulletin Boards, there was one for HeroQuest and Space Crusade when they came out. But sadly, if you wanted to see a boardgame being played or learn the rules, you either had to go round to your friend Tim’s house where he had a new chits-for-days wargame going, or sit down and actually read the rulebook yourself. As a result, I bought some interesting games in my time, including a game called Operation Overlord - a mighty chit-tastic WW2 N African campaign monster that I bought in desperation from the Games Workshop in Manchester on the first morning that it opened in 1979 (?) as we were so far back in the queue that there wasn’t a space marine to be had for miles. But now, we have a plethora of kindly folk available on our blistering shiny Windows NT 486sx machines to inform and delight us in full 8-bit glory. Everything from reviews, buying guides, rules tutorials and even painting & crafting guides, we can be bathing in just about whatever aspect of board or wargaming we so desire in an effort to stave off the clattering realisation that it’s been over 3 months since we spent any quality time with another breathing soul outside our houses. The question gets frequently asked on boardgame FaceAche forums “What YouTube channels are worth my time and why?” so in an effort to throw my own towel into that controversial ring, here’s my pick of probably 9ish, maybe more by the end, but let’s start with 9 in no particular order..... 1) 3 MINUTE BOARDGAMES

One of the first board games ‘er across the table (TM) and I bought together was a copy of Gloom from a little games and comic shop halfway round the world in Hamilton NZ, Mark 1 Comics. As we were achingly close to moving to NZ a few years ago, we’ve kept up with many aspects of what might have been our life over there, so it was a delight to discover Jarrod (and now Stephanie) on YouTube, a friendly and familiar accent reviewing board games. But it’s not just the NZ vibe that I love, Jarrod does a great job of cutting thru the hyperbole and bloat often associated with trying to keep YouTube vids ‘long for the algorithm’ (ugh) and just gives very pragmatic reasons for a game either joining or leaving his collection. He has a great approach, and it’s nice to see him finally on camera instead of the disembodied voice. Great reviewer, and Stephanie is utterly hilarious. 2) THE BROTHERS MURPH

Mike & Nick are two of the most engaging brothers on YouTube let alone just in the boardgaming community. Their series on thrift shop finds has dredged up some hilarious and often tragic specimens from the grand days of Palitoy, MB and Parker Games. They are also masters at ‘speed reviewing’ often piling reviews of 50 or 60 games into the same number of minutes. I think I favour the ‘don’t outstay your welcome’ approach to YouTube in general, and the Brothers Murph are at great ease with this philosophy and yet they take on simple party games thru to the heaviest euros with the same distillation equipment, and yet their reviews are never trivial or throw away. We had the chance to chat to Nick at Airecon this year and he was a lovely guy, slightly blown away by the fact that people liked his channel. He’s also an awesome artist too.

3) ACTUALOL

There are many reviewers on the web who have cost me a fair amount of money, the worst being Zee Garcia, however, a close second is Jon Purkiss aka Actualol. Jon has a terrifying gift for finding games, and especially ridiculously affordable games, that I buy on spec and then end up absolutely loving. Jon has a light and breezy style which is instantly engaging - I also really want his comfy chair (surely in exchange for a nice review on here Jon???). His videos are tidy and concise and yet still convey a deep enthusiasm and joy for games. His reviews very clearly portray what the setting of the game is and what you’ll be doing, without getting embroilled in the rules. He always has great footage of the game on the table (please reviewers - look at the ratio of your face to the game you’re talking about - less than 10% game and i’m walkin’) and often favours the less pricey end of the market which suits me fine. Brilliant games I love thanks to Jon include: Second Chance, Magic Maze and Ninja Academy

4) OUR FAMILY PLAYS GAMES

There’s not much to be said about Mik & Starla Fitch that cannot be gained from watching a mere 3-4 minutes of their channel. For sheer exuberance aimed squarely at a love for bringing families together via our glorious hobby, you cannot top these guys. If you are ever - EVER - feeling slightly lacklustre about gaming or losing your mojo for whatever reason - heck if you are just feeling slightly down, treat yourself to 10 minutes in the company of these two excellent human beings. Their reviews and playthru’s have all the humanity you need in a game and after five minutes you are thinking “Is the US too far to go just for a gaming evening?” We’d both utterly love to sit across the table from these lovely people and just play, and I can’t say that about every reviewer, I’ll be honest. Their reviews are often centred around unloved classics (watch their vid dedicated to why they love Catan as an example - you’ll be clicking Buy Now before your know it) and also some great quirky unknowns that I’m trying to hunt down even now. They’ve just had a brilliant couple of boosts from both a spot of Good Morning America recently, and becoming reviewers for the mighty Dice Tower. I’m immensely grateful for a tweet by Rodney Smith for pointing me in their direction, my social media is a much brighter place with the Fitch family in it.

5) RAHDO RUNS THROUGH

“Heeeeey Everybody”. One of the first board game reviewers I ever caught on YouTube was the inimitable Richard Ham aka Rahdo. And I’m so glad I did. I would genuinely never sit down and try and learn a game from one of Rahdo’s playthrus, they are what I imagine being in a wind tunnel full of 50 tonnes of feathers is like. BUT and this is crucial - if I want an idea of what a game is going to feel like to play, there is no finer deliverer of the remote game experience than Mr Richard Ham. His unique ability to explain how a game is going to work, turn by turn; the decisions you will make; the things you’ll have to consider; the short and long term goals; are all brilliantly covered in one of Rahdo’s videos. His ability to make different choices for his ‘ghost partner’ Jen (who does exist in real life, we have bought jewelry off her, she’s lovely) also adds a real dynamism to the games, showcasing the flexibility in a design for different play strategies. Rahdo tends towards 2 player games and usually at the heavier end of the scale, but if there’s a game you are thinking of buying, check Mr Ham out first!

6) WATCH IT PLAYED

It’s often been said that Canadians are some of the politest folk on the planet, but when it comes to ranking Canadians, well, I’m sure they’d be too humble to rank each other so I’ll have to. Rodney Smith is the loveliest man in the world. There, end of article. But it’s true. We’ve been watching Rodney since we first got confused about the rules for Mice & Mystics (which we still got wrong but that wasn’t Rodney’s fault) and his ever chirpy, ever positive approach to his rules rundowns is utterly remarkable and frankly, enviable. And it’s his attention to detail and clarity for explaining rules that have rightly made Rodney one of the most important resources in the gaming hobby. If you have ever struggled over a rulebook and haven’t raced to Watch It Played, I will guarantee you will have spent far longer on that rulebook and lost way more hair than you ever needed to. We had the great honour of playing Rajas of the Ganges with Rodney at Airecon in 2019, and I mugged up on the rules sooo much. Regular imbibers of this rag will know my sloth for reading rulebooks is legendary but fortunately ‘er across the table (TM) loves them. But, for the 3 days running up to our trip to Harrogate, I did nothing but read that rulebook - this was THE Rodney Smith, you can’t get a rule wrong with Rodney. But of course, nerves kicked in and I could barely remember the rules of Snap, but the nicest man in the world could not have been nicer. Really, quantum mechanics has proved it. He was just the same man off the computer telly. Funny, engaging, warm and happy to chat as well as play (which I was also really nervous about doing!), if you don’t watch Rodney, are you really internetting?

7) TABLETOP MINIONS

“Pachow” From boardgames to wargames. As well as my slight addiction to cardboard, my other opiate overlord is 28mm plastic miniatures. Specifically those involved in tabletop skirmish games like Malifaux, 7TV, Fallout Wasteland Warfare, GuildBall and a smattering of others. Though recently more focused on the frankly insane amount of content being released by Games Workshop, Tabletop Minions is presented by the splendid Uncle Atom. (In fact, I identify his content so much as Uncle Atom’s stuff that I honestly had to double check the name of the channel for this article!). My plastic habit uncle (sounds so wrong, but so true) has possibly the gentlest delivery of anyone on the internet. It’s not so much content, as therapy. I know the net is awash with AMSR channels at the mo, but if you don’t want to listen to some overmonetized southern californian with some bubble wrap and a large capsule condenser mic, just hop over to TTM and listen to the Uncle for 5 minutes. He’s like a soothing bubble bath of content about painting figures, philosophy of the hobby, general art & design principles, and great life advice. He also wears a fez.

8) GIRL PAINTING

“Hello Tchoobies!” I painted my first 28mm figure when i was about 12ish - it was, ironically, a space marine of some sort - the old clunky Ral Partha ones. It looked terrible, but each model got a bit better till I stopped for some reason a few years later. When I got into Malifaux a few years ago (ie decades, several of them, later), I knew I was going to have to get back into painting; heaps of grey plastic does not a skirmish game make. (Little did I know I would have to revisit my microscopy days either when assembling damn Bayou Gremlins!) Two channels were recommended to me, the Esoteric Order of Gamers (more later) and Girl Painting. EOG put me on the path to believing I could paint again, but Alexandra at Girl Painting actually made me believe I could learn to do it well. GP’s approach to painting figures, terrain and vehicles is based on solid art theory. Her explanation of colour relationships and the colour wheel is something I can quote to this day. All of the techniques that I lean on so heavily in day to day painting both for table and display I learnt from Girl Painting. Correct use of washes, wet blending, non-metallic metals, shading, drybrushing, highlighting, model reading, all of it from studying intently, often with a brush actually in my hand while watching the channel. I cannot recommend GP enough if you want to put paint to plastic. Whatever your ability, you will learn something from this hidden gem of a channel.

9) ESOTERIC ORDER OF GAMERS

Another dang fine antipodean and another slightly unusual channel. I have a terrible, terrible memory when it comes to rules. In our early days, we also had a a lot of games with seemingly very over-bloated rulebooks - FFG games basically. I suddenly realised what I wanted was to lift the lid of a box and find in the lid, a summary of the important stuff i needed to remember about the game. Apparently I was not the only one. In 2013 a chap known as Universal Head started publishing an amazing series of rules summaries which condensed down some of the bloatiest rulesbooks down to often one or 2 pages of A4. It was a (pardon the pun) gamechanger for me. I can’t count the number of games in our collection that have a friendly sheet of A4 now as the first thing you see when you open the box. They are brilliant. And he’s still doing it to this day. I would argue that the more useful leg to his activities is the website rather than YouTube channel, but his channel does have the aforementioned brilliant figure painting tutorials, unboxing videos and some crafting stuff. The website is definitely the place for the rules summaries and also a fantastic resource for build-it-yourself foamcore box inserts. Though Folded Space have now made box inserts pretty affordable, there’s still no feeling like the satisfaction of building your own, and I would argue that some of EoG’s designs actually make more sense than some of the Folded Space ones anyway. AND THE OTHER ONES (Who probably don’t really need the exposure, but hey, only 11 people probably read this so......) Why aren’t these on the list above? Just because I wanted to highlight some of the more marginal channels above or more specialist rather than the pure reviewers. SHUT UP & SIT DOWN Possibly my favourite channel on YouTube, whose name sounds more like a menacing Yorkshire greeting than a boardgame channel. SU&SD seem to be a real Marmite issue on the board game communities. And I genuinely don’t understand it. Yes, their reviews are often really funny but honestly, if that’s all you take away then you are missing some amazingly detailed and thought provoking work. Quinns and crew’s reviews are some of the most measured and balanced reviews in the gameyverse. Their reasoning for the conclusions they come to are incredibly well thought through and often very surprising based on the tone of the rest of the review. They have steered me to some games I would never have looked twice at and steered me away from some very shiny games that I might have blown a lot of money on otherwise. Flagposting great alternatives is also a signature of their reviews, and that again has often lead me to some fantastic games. We don’t always agree (their recent review of 10 Oink Games was savage imho) but we always disagree for the right reasons. Again, I would argue their website is actually a better overall resource, especially their podcasts which are superb, but all their content is fantastic.

in a highly similar vein I would add NO PUN INCLUDED. Efka & Elaine produce some of the most thoughtful and intelligent boardgame review content today, and often for some of the deepest and most complex games. The joy of boardgaming is that it is highly subjective and there are lots of times when NPI like/dislike a game that I do/don’t, but they are engaging and warm enough as presenters to hit you with a gentle subtext that says “It’s ok - I know we like this game, we get that you don’t, it doesn’t make any of us bad people, just people y’know, have a sandwich with us” Efka criticising a game reminds me of when Dennis Healey once described an argument with Geoffrey Howe as being ‘savaged by a dead sheep’, though not in the cynical manner of the original. The criticism is loaded with that crucial dose of ‘hear me out’ that is sadly lacking in 90% of all other reviewers out there. Efka & Elaine are no GoggleBox reviewers, they are the real deal - they genuinely understand how games work and why. The sheer moral turmoil that Efka expressed over the cultural issues in Rising Sun was some of the most thoughtful YouTube content I have ever seen. I just wanted to do a little shout out to Johannes & Sunniva at BOARD GAMING RAMBLINGS - I don’t have as much to say as they are relatively new on my radar, but I have really enjoyed their content so far and find them to be like one of those adorable gaming couples that you might see every once in a while at your gaming group and have a blast with, and then not see for months and go “Awh - I really miss Johannes & Sunniva - where’d they go?” that feeling, you know the one. Adorable, with a hint of the esoteric. Also, a quick but important mention to the other titan of boardgame rules explanation that is Paul Grogan of GAMING RULES!. Like Rodney Smith, Paul is meticulous about rules explanation and is really clear and simple to follow, even for very heavy games, which Paul tends to do more of than Rodney, which is probably why I end up watching Paul slightly less, but certainly not for any less quality. Paul has such a reputation in the industry that he now works closely with many designers and publishers to help craft the best rulebooks around as a consultant. So that’s it - congrats for making it through folks. Didn’t think it was going to run this long, but turns out.... I quite like a lot of the YouTubers I watch - who knew? Until next time... happy gaming y’all.

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samcroslut · 5 years

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The Devil's Wife - Part 3 (Lucifer Morningstar Series)

a/n: Hay guys! So the third part, I decided, was going to be a sad one but there is still a tad bit of a cliffhanger. Let me know what y’all think happened to Esther when she was gone and also what you lot think of the series! Have a great day.

Tag list:

@badwolf-in-the-impala @hismissharley13 @cole-winchester @lovereyes22 @rosepetalsandfandoms @anne-kollay @spnfan-96 @squirreln-moose @thatravenclaw04

If you want to be added to my taglist, just send me an ask!

It had been a few days since Lucifer and you had talked about it all: the things you had missed, the notoriety, even his day job (including Chloe). You were happy that he had found a friend and something to fill his spare time with but you couldn’t help but feel immensely jealous of this Decker girl. She had filled your job, even though she never filled your place he said, and been there for him when you were unable. You were yet to meet her but you also knew that he hadn’t mentioned that he had a wife and hadn’t spoke of his previous life, other than the obvious and the fact that she wouldn’t believe that he was actually the devil. To be fair on her, which was showing to be troublesome, you understood her reluctance. A good-looking guy in Prada and Italian leather who owns a popular club claims to be the devil. Any civilian would call them insane, and she did. And, unfortunately, for you that peaked his interest; following her around like a puppy dog.Stepping out of the car, Lucifer closing the door behind you before taking your arm in his and walking up to the house. After knocking and waiting a few short moments, a little girl answered. Her black braids bouncing as she bolted for him, wrapping her tiny arms around his legs and letting out an excited trill.

“Lucifer!” She was adorable, her eyes looking up at his heightened frame. “And you brought someone..” She was sceptical at first, like anyone would. You bent down, in a squatting stance, and smiled, your leather trousers squeaking under the pressure as you introduced yourself.

“Hello, sweetie. I’m Esther, and you would be?” Your voice was calm and inviting.“Beatrice, but people call me Trixie.” She looked proud as she replied, standing up straight and smiling her toothy grin.“Well do they now. Can I call you that?”“I suppose so..” Her retort made you laugh. She was a smart little thing, you’d give her that. Standing up to your full height next to your husband, his hand coiling around your waist in a protective manner. Glancing forward, you noticed a woman new standing in the archway.“Go inside and help set up Trixie,” the woman waited until the girl had disappear to continue, “Lucifer, you brought..entertainment. I’d prefer it if you didn’t bring her when Trixie-” You stopped her before she went any further. Her words offending on a whole new scale.

“Excuse you? Would you like to try that again because this will entertaining for me if-” It was your turn to get interrupted, your voice threatening and crescendoing into a harsh hiss. Lucifer had missed your short temper and had to let out a chuckle as he stopped the, what would be, growing argument, using his spare hand to create a barrier between the two of you.“Ladies. Ladies..I usually enjoy two women going at it but this surely isn’t the place,” he looked between you to and smiled when there was no escalation.“Now that’s better, a bit of civility. Anyway, detective, this is Esther Morningstar: my wife.” Her reaction was priceless and for a split second you wished that you could frame it and hang it on the wall in the sitting room. The jealousy lessened as you smirked. His wife. His. “I didn’t know you had a wife. You’ve never mentioned her before.” The tone of her voice immediately gave away her jealousy, her eyes scanning you up and down but you just smirked.His hand rubbed soothingly around your back. You leaned into his touch and took his hand in yours.

“Yes, well, we have been apart for a while but she finally came back for me.” Chloe just nodded and stepped aside, allowing you in.As the night progressed, dinner was served. Everyone gathered around the homely table and, as you became acquainted with the surrounds, you found it extremely…. cosy. Photo frames lined the walls and you found yourself becoming more calm about the whole situation. You intended to come as a show of dominance and to, hopefully, understand the mind of the woman that has replaced your space in your husband's life. However, now? You still wanted to exert your superiority but, at this point, you found it amusing to watch her fight for Lucifer’s attention and affection. The way that she placed his meal down first just to make sure that she could hold the action a little longer than necessary and how she would glare a little harder when he done something, but you knew that she was just trying to memorise every detail that made his face. The food was, surprisingly, appetising and the conversation flowed. Emotion started to come loose when Trixie was sent to bed. Chloe was clearing up the table and you made your way over to her, picking up dishes and making polite conversation. It never was your goal to cause any drama or trouble, however, you weren’t afraid to say what needed to be said if it came to it.

“So I didn’t know that Lucifer had a wife. How long have you two..?” She trailed off her question, not really sure of how to phrase it. You understood. “Well the start of time. Literally.” You tried to joke, knowing that she probably wouldn’t laugh but you wanted to put things into perspective for her. The both of you walked towards the kitchen, sorting out the mess. You began to dry the dishes as she washed them. It was quiet.

“I appreciate you looking out for him, you know? I want to thank you for that. We both know the amount of trouble he can get himself into with that mouth of his.” She did laugh at that. “Yeah, Lucifer is something else.” She scrubbed at a cup before continuing, “ Why weren’t you around? Not meaning that harshly but if he’s your husband…” You noted the tendency she had for trailing off questions around you.

“No, it’s alright. There was some family drama and it’s an extremely long story to tell. One i don’t think should be told over washing up but, rumours were spread and things were believed. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Silence fell again and you realised what that explanation must of sounded like to her.

“I love that man, you understand that right? We were, literally, meant to be together and now that I am back, I’m not letting him go ever again. He means everything to me.”

~~~~

It wasn’t until later that night that you and Lucifer talked about what happened while you were gone. He had grown curious of the reason for your absence and you knew that the subject was inevitable. As you were preparing for bed, not that the two of you needed sleep, he sat behind you as you perched at the end of the bed. His hands unzipping the back of your top and mouth placing kisses to your exposed shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” You turned around before he had the chance to fully see your back. Taking in a deep breath, you kept your back to him, attempting to deter conversation.

“Nothing. I just… I want to explain why I wasn’t there for you. I know that you are curious and you don’t want to ask but..” Lucifer knew that there was more to it than that for the reason you pulled away so suddenly from his touch but he dropped it, hoping that you would tell him in your own time. He nodded, urging you on and taking your spot on the bed, you standing straight in front of him. Your feet stuttered forward, kneeling down before him and gazing up into those eyes that you fell in love with all those eons ago, capturing his toned hands in between yours, cradling them.

“When you were exiled, your father was a mixture of emotion. My one job in his eyes was to ‘save’ you, and I failed. He thought that I would know more about your true intentions and how to get inside your head. He wanted to be one step ahead. He tried to get the information out of me but I didn’t even understand the questions he was spewing half the time.” Bowing your head, avoiding certain details and aspects, “in the end he gave up, claiming I was useless. He cast me out just like he did to you. That’s when I came to find you. I promise you I tried to escape, to come find you but I couldn’t. He had me guarded 24/7, there was no possible way.” Tears dripped from your eyes as you relived the memories of the guards and the events that took place in that monstrous chamber: the torture, the pain, the suffering. With your mind reeling, you didn’t even notice Luci’s hand come up to grasp your chin, the contact nearly making you jump but you refrained. He noticed. He noticed all that emotion flood out of you. He noticed the fact you were breaking in front of him but still keeping a strong face, one thing he admired most about you. He also noticed the horrid scarring poking out from the slightly unzipped back of your shirt. He said nothing, it wasn’t the time. Pulling you up onto his lap, kissing your forehead and whispering love into your ears in the british accent that you adored so much. Lucifer’s mind went into panic and submerged with anger. What exactly happened to you?

#Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer imagines #lucifer morningstar imagines #lucifer morningstar series #lucifer tv show #lucifer x reader #tom ellis #chloe decker

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heyyyharry · 5 years

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In Another Life Series: Chapter 5 - The Love Triangle

…in which Harry gets back with his ex and Y/N thinks it’s a terrible idea.

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, assistant!y/n, witch!y/n.

Chapter 4 - The One He Loved: Heartbroken Harry and his assistant Y/N disappear for a day.

I know spooky season ended already but…

“I was alone in a room, in a big castle…There were many portraits on the walls, the faces I cannot remember…” Y/N narrated with intensity in her eyes. Her eyebrows were pinched together as she shifted to be more comfortable in the velvet armchair. “I walked to the closest door, which led me to a long corridor. Standing at the other end was a shadow of a man. He was just standing there, like a statue, so I called for his help and started running to get to him, but no matter how hard I tried I always stayed in the same spot. Then suddenly, I fell down into a big black hole…just keep falling…falling…until I see them again…two flames in a pair of green eyes.”

“Wow…” her best friend Jason finally spoke to break the silence she left for him. “And then you woke up?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “My dreams, they always ended that way.”

“Are you sure those are the eyes in the King’s portrait?” Jason questioned and she could see the obvious doubt in his facial expression. He either thought she’d been doing drugs or she was just out of her mind. However, the fear she had after waking up told her she had never been saner.

“I’m 100% sure!” Y/N asserted. “There’s still one more thing I haven’t told you.”

“What’s that?”

“Harry Styles’ got the same pair of eyes.”

“Harry, your boss?” Jason tilted his head down and raised both eyebrows as he stared at his best friend in disbelief. She didn’t reply with words, just gave him a slight shrug in return.

“Y/N…” he began. “Are you seriously telling me your boss is the reason you’re having these spooky dreams every night, and that he is somewhat related to the king who died like five centuries ago?”

“Look…I’m not joking, I’d never had those dreams before I started working for him.” Now not only did she sound completely crazy, but she also sounded obsessive.

“Maybe you’re just stressed that’s all. Being a celebrity’s personal assistant is a difficult job,” Jason assumed, giving his friend a smile. “Do you wanna go grab a coffee?”

Y/N exhaled exhaustedly and rose from the chair, leaving Jason a bit disappointed, knowing beforehand that his offer had been declined. “Nope, sorry. I have a meeting with Harry’s team to discuss his next tour.”

“This is exactly what I was talking about! Your life has been all about Harry Styles for the past month, he’s driving you insane.”

“Well, the man does pay me to follow him everywhere so…” She paused and lifted her shoulders slightly “…if he’s driving me insane, so be it.”

Jason knew too well he couldn’t convince her to quit her job for her mental health, so he just stayed quiet and watched her head to her room to get changed.

“Y/N?” He spoke after a while.

“Hmm?” She hummed, her voice was muffled behind her closed door.

“I’m sorry about the kiss…”

Silence.

“I’m glad you decided to forgive me. I won’t do it again.”

He was holding his breath while waiting for a response (if she was gonna give him one). Maybe he should not have brought up this topic and just felt grateful to be the first person she’d call for help.

Y/N exited her bedroom shortly after, wearing a white blouse and her favourite pair of high-waisted jeans. She stood at the door with her hands on her hips and shot him a smile.

“Jason, you’re my best friend. I love you but only as a friend.”

“I know…”

“I don’t want to ruin this friendship we have.”

“I know,” he repeated those two words, which sounded less depressing this time so she would take it as a good sign.

“Now get up! You’re giving me a ride!”

Despite the look of surprise on her best friend’s face, Y/N picked up her bag and her coat then headed straight to the front door.

…

It’d been a week since Ann decided to stay at Court and she had started to get impatient. The King was taking too long to consider her simple requests. If it hadn’t been for Edward, maybe she wouldn’t have stayed that long.

She was well aware of her social status, a girl like her would never end up with a prince like him, but like her mother had once said, ’you love who you love’. She couldn’t be at fault for loving someone, right?

“But mother,” Ann mumbled, watching Edward and his fiancé in the garden from her room’s window. “What if the person you love doesn’t love you in return?”

Her heart ached to the sound of her own question, to which she thought she might already know the answer. Therefore, Ann decided to try and focus on more important things rather than the fact that the man she loved was soon to be married. She took advantage of the absence of the guards outside her bedroom to sneak out and head into the woods.

Most people in the Kingdom would find the woods a very scary place. However, to Ann, the scariest place was the King’s Court. She could handle hungry wolves lurking in the dark, not angry and malicious people wanting the blood of her kind to spill.

There were myths about witches being ugly old ladies with pointy noses, dark souls and black hearts, the ones that would cook you for dinner and put you in a curse just because they could. However, people like Ann were nothing like that. They were just unfortunate human-beings born with dark magic on the tips of their fingers, the gift they’d never wished to possess. There were just a few families of witches in one village so as to not draw much attention. Once in a while, the young witches in an area would meet up to practice their spells and learn to have better control of their powers.

There was a little cottage far in the woods, underneath of which was what they called ‘the meeting hall’. On the night Ann met Edward, she was on her way home from there.

“Ann darling! It’s so good to see you again!” Exclaimed an old witch when she saw the young girl. She took Ann by the hand and led her to the long table nearby, where sat a few others. Some were mixing potions, some were learning spells, some were putting them to practice.

“These girls are only sixteen, seventeen.” The old woman sighed contently as she held onto Ann’s hand with both of hers. “I remember when you first came here with your mother. How time flies.”

“Yeah…” Ann nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she went on, “I need your help, Madam Maggie.”

“What is it dear? You look distressed!”

“Well…it’s about a man.”

“It’s always about men.” Madam Maggie rolled her eyes, smiling to show her gold front tooth. “Ann, darling, are you in love?”

“Not with whom I’m supposed to be in love with.”

“Who’s the lucky young man?”

“The Prince.”

“Ann!” Madam Maggie gasped, looking around to make sure no one else could hear this conversation. “Are you insane?”

“I think I am! I don’t know what to do! Is there a spell to erase my feelings for him? Or is there some kind of reverse love potion?”

“Darling, calm down!” The old witch puckered up her forehead as she pursed her lips to think for a second or two. “I’m afraid magic cannot help you with this, at least not without consequences. But how do you know the prince? His father is a terrible man—”

“He’s nothing like his father! It’s a long story, but I’m—“

Without waiting for her to finish, Madam Maggie took her right hand and started observing her palm. Ann knew what she was doing, in fact, it was something Ann was capable of doing as well, telling someone’s past, future, and present through their palm lines. The only downside to this was that you couldn’t read your own palm, someone else had to do it for you.

“You’re trying to help us by staying at Court!” Madam Maggie widened her eyes at the girl in shock and terror. “Ann, you’ve got to leave as soon as possible!”

“Why? W-What did you see?”

“Terrible things are going to happen if you stay for too long.”

“I need to wait until the King's made up his mind.”

“It’s a matter of life and death here Ann!” That sentence put the young witch to silence immediately.

“Life and death?” She asked, unable to believe it was true. “Whose?”

“Yours.”

For a second, Ann felt her entire body stiffen. Her face turned a shade lighter and her mouth fell open. “I’m going to die?”

“Different courses of actions can lead to different results, so I’m not sure, I just don’t think you should risk putting your own life in danger.”

“Everyone’s dying, it’s the risk I have to take!” Ann insisted, still the older witch didn’t agree.

“You cannot help anyone if something bad happens to you, darling. Leave the King’s Court, and go home.”

Ann looked down, frightened and at the same time downhearted. She couldn’t decide which one was worse: going home empty-handed, or never seeing Edward again, either way, it would be too painful to bear.

…

The meeting finished shortly because Harry couldn’t seem to concentrate. They all agreed to meet up again the next morning to continue the discussions. Jeff was slightly mad, he didn’t say it but everyone could tell. They assumed the reason for Harry’s distraction was Lillie, his girlfriend, who had been caught cheating but they’d got back together at the end of the day.

However, it wasn’t Lillie, well, not entirely her, it was Y/N as well. It might sound weird to say his assistant had anything to do with him not being able to focus. Harry couldn’t explain it himself, he just knew from the first moment he’d met her, he couldn’t shake her off his mind. Maybe it was the fact that after their first day spent together, she refused to talk to him about anything else besides business, and he loved talking to her much more than he could admit.

As the rest of Harry’s team went out for lunch, he was left alone with Y/N. They were going to a fitting next for him to try on his new suits for a movie premiere, which he’d be attending tomorrow night.

“Hey, Y/N,” Harry spoke nervously as he tapped lightly on her shoulder. The girl turned around and stared at him with round eyes. “Would you like to go to the studio with me later?”

“I’ve got a lot of work to do, sorry.”

“I’m your boss, I decide what task I want you to do.”

Y/N snorted, raising an eyebrow at the man in front of her. “Don’t use that tone on me.”

“Sorry…” Harry shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. He didn’t know where that demanding tone of his came from. He’d never been like that before, maybe he was just upset because she was acting so coldly towards him. “I just can’t write, I need someone to talk to I guess, makes me feel more at ease.”

“Where’s your girlfriend? Maybe she’ll be happy to help,” she reminded him. Even though she’d tried to not sound too bitter about it, she thought she might’ve failed somehow.

“Lillie’s busy today, the entire day. I'm not even allowed to call her.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, just nodding her head, the thing she normally did when she was tired of hearing something and she just wanted it to be over.

“This is about me getting back together with her, isn’t it? You’re not talking to me because of it?”

“I am talking to you, Harry.”

“Not like this, I mean…really talk,” he explained then rolled his own eyes. “I’m not making sense but, I miss the conversations we had the day we first met, it’s only been about work since.”

“Okay, you want me to talk to you like a friend?” She asked, holding the folders to her chest with both arms. “You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, your assistant would say you’re so clever because she doesn’t want to lose her job, in the role of your friend, I’m saying that you’re an idiot,” she told him straightforwardly. “You got back together with a cheater. There are plenty of nice people around you Harry. You went around spreading the slogan ‘Treat people with kindness’ then ended up dating someone who treated you like you didn’t matter.”

“Lillie loves me.”

“Does she? Or is it only you that love her?” She shut him right up. He could only stare. “Do you even love her, Harry? Are you just staying because you think you have to or what?”

Harry actually stopped to think. She waited patiently as he did. Having only known this man for a month, Y/N cared about him way too much, more than she should. She really wanted him to be happy, and ever since he’d got back together with Lillie he’d been stressed. That was when you know the relationship was no longer valid.

Finally, Harry began, “you have no idea how hard it is to find someone who’s willing to stay with you for two long years despite everything. Lillie has sacrificed a lot to be with me. She told me her friend kissed her without her consent and I believed that. You should understand more than anyone because that’s what happened with your best friend right?”

“But—“

“You know what? Maybe I prefer you as just my assistant.”

Harry turned as soon as he finished that sentence and then stormed away, leaving her speechless. Little did she know, he regretted saying that immediately.

…

“Edward!”

“Ann, how are you?” Edward’s eyes brightened the moment he saw Ann. She looked beautiful today, even more than yesterday, if it was possible. He hoped he wasn’t showing how infatuated he was with her, but he was already smiling too wide to keep it hidden.

“Have you spoken to your father?” She asked, looking very worried. “It’s been a month, more people are dying of hunger, and not to mention more witches are being burnt. You’ve got to do something.”

“I’m still convincing him. I’m trying my best Ann,” he said, looking straight into her eyes. “But don’t worry, until he approves of abolishing the witch hunts, you’re safe here at Court.”

Ann shifted her eyes to her feet and Harry’s heart fell with them.

“What is it?” He asked, eyebrows pulled together as he laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “Why are you so upset?”

“If I don’t have my answer from the King by morning, I’m leaving tomorrow night, to go home. I don’t feel safe here, your mother hates me, Princess Emilié hates me, and your father…he looks at me like I’m his prey. Just...let me go home, at least I feel safer there.”

“You have me here, I’ll keep you safe, love.”

Ann took a step forward, taking his right hand in hers and brought it to her chest. “You’re going to be King one day, you have more important things to care about.”

“Nothing is as important as you,” he told her softly, cupping her cheek with his other hand. There was no one around so he could just kiss her without worrying about her reputation or his own. However, he wouldn’t do that, not until she wanted to.

Ann was taken aback by those words. She wanted to raise a question whether or not he felt the same as she did, but it didn’t matter as she was going to leave.

“Is there another reason?” He asked after a moment of silence. She couldn’t look at him in the eyes, so that made him feel alarmed. Ann wanted to tell him the truth, but even she wasn’t sure what it was.

“Is it me?” Ironically, his question was the answer she was looking for. Yes. It was him. He was the reason she couldn’t stay. “Ann, please tell me…”

“You’re getting married to a princess,” was all she said before running off, ignoring him desperately calling after her.

Whether he loved her, or he loved her not, they would never, ever, belong together.

…

Harry couldn’t write.

It had happened before but this time it seemed worse. It was getting late and he was lying on the floor in his home studio, a pencil in his mouth, holding a notebook above his face. He had been staring at the blank page for an hour now, still...nothing. Maybe he was stressed, or maybe he wasn’t inspired enough. It was a song about love, and he was in a relationship. It shouldn’t have been difficult to write about love when you were in love!

The knock on the door caused Harry to sit up straight. He told the person to come in and Y/N opened the door, leaning her shoulder against the wooden frame as she stared at him.

“Why are you on the floor?” She asked, raising an eyebrow but he just gave her a shrug and said nothing at all. “I brought you the Gucci suit for the movie premiere, left it in your bedroom.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Y/N pressed her lips together and told him she would see him tomorrow morning before turning around. Before Harry could even think twice about what he was going to say, he opened his mouth and the words escaped all on their own.

“Please stay.”

Y/N was left speechless. She turned back, eyebrows knitted together, lips slightly parted but she didn’t know what to say.

“I mean…stay here and talk to me for a while. I’m under a lot of stress and I don’t think my mind’s working anymore,” Harry sighed heavily while holding his head in his hand. “I need to get to the chorus before tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think I can help,” she responded softly and slowly, but the look on her face told him she was weighing her options.

“I’m…” He hissed, looking up to lock eyes with her. “I’m sorry about what I said. I really don’t want to be alone now. I’m gonna go insane.”

She was quiet for a couple seconds, which seemed like hours to Harry. Finally, she nodded her head, making him sigh in relief.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” the assistant said with a small smile as she closed the door behind her.

“This is not a request from your boss, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he told her out of guilt when she joined him on the floor. It was very demanding of him to ask her to stay here this late at night. She could just quit for this reason.

“I’m here as your friend.” She giggled, watching dimples appear on his cheeks. She might not notice, but it was the first time that day Harry genuinely smiled.

An hour passed by.

Then two hours.

Then three.

Then four…

The two had been so lost in the conversations to realize how fast time flew. Harry had only known this girl for a month, yet he felt he had for much longer than that. He’d told her a lot of things and she wasn’t afraid to confide in him either. It was indeed a magical night, in the quiet room lit up by the moonlight, two lonely souls healed each other.

“Is that your mum?” Harry broke the silence when he saw her lockscreen when her phone lit up in the dark.

“Yeah.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks. I lost her when I was fourteen, never got to know my dad.” She laughed sadly staring at the phone though the screen had turned black and all she could see was her own reflection.

“I’m sorry. I never should’ve brought her up.”

“No, no, I love talking about her, she’s taught me so much in life.” Y/N lifted her shoulders slightly and gave him a small smile. “She put so much trust in me. I just want to make her proud.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you.”

“Yeah right, she must be so proud of how lost and clueless her daughter is in life.” She rolled her eyes and exhaled a sarcastic laugh and expected him to react the same way. However, Harry’s face remained serious.

“I don’t think you’re lost and clueless. You have a passion for painting, right?”

She nodded.

“As long as you have something you’re passionate about, you’re doing fine.”

“Wise words from Mr. Harry Styles!”

“I’m serious!”

“I know.” She was beaming at him. “Thank you.”

The silence sank in for a little while, they were just staring at everywhere else in the room but each other. Until Harry couldn’t take it anymore, he had to be the first to speak, “can I ask you a very personal question?”

“Yeah, sure. What is it?”

Have you been in love?

“Harry, what is it? Don’t just stare at me like that!” Y/N snorted and Harry only smiled awkwardly. He had no idea where that question had come from. All he knew was that he was curious, or he was probably just searching for confirmation to be sure if her idea of being in love was the same as his, though honestly, now he wasn’t so sure if he had an idea.

He almost let it slip. Thank God he stopped himself just in time, for Harry knew such question would be too invasive, and she was still his employee despite him not seeing her as one.

“How do you feel about going to a movie premiere?”

“I’ve never been to one so how do I know?! And it’s not even a personal question, Harry!” She tossed her head back and laughed, but then she was quick to notice the look on his face and realized what he was truly implying. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yes! I want you to go with Jeff and me.”

“Harry, I’m not a celebrity! There’s no way I’m going!”

“It’ll be fun!"

“I—I have nothing to wear!” That’s a very good reason, she thought to herself. The face of Gucci would not take someone so underdressed to a red carpet event with him, and she was sure the most expensive item in her closet was cheaper than the cheapest one in his.

“You won’t have to worry about that if you say yes.”

“I don’t know…”

“What if I say going to a movie premiere with me is part of your job?”

“You’re overusing your powers!” Y/N scoffed as she picked up a wrinkled ball of paper and tossed it at him playfully.

“You left me no choice but to bring out boss Harry!” He defended himself, raising both hands in the air, cracking her up.

“I’ll think about it.” She pointed a finger at him and squinted her eyes. “So that’s a maybe.”

“Great! I’ll have your dress ready.”

“You’re unbelievable!” She rolled her eyes though there was no way she could hide the joy written on all over her face. He had made her day a thousand times better.

When the first ray of sunlight sneaked into the room through the gap between the window curtains, Harry and Y/N were still sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall. Harry had finished the first verse and chorus of his new song, and Y/N was still asleep, with her head on his shoulder.

Sure he had got the work done before the deadline, which was worth to celebrate. Nevertheless, Harry didn’t know what to feel, when the song which was supposed to be about the love of his life, wasn’t inspired by his girlfriend of two years.

He carefully moved his head to the side and looked at his sleeping assistant who was subconsciously smiling in her sleep. Then he started to wonder, what would happen if she found out he’d written a song about her.

#harry styles #in another life series #soulmate!harry #boyfriend!Harry #prince!harry #assistant!y/n #witch!y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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bethhxrmon · 5 years

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All I Ask of You Pt. 39

“Is this how I die? Frightened like a child, lazy and numb” - “Dust and Ashes” from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

Pairing: Peter Paker x Female OC

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Well, it’s infinity war time lol

Warnings: Sads, major character(s) death (it’s infinity war what do you expect)

A/N: Here we are, the last full chapter of the fic! It’s really sad, I cried writing it, but I hope y’all enjoy this. It’s been an insane ride. As always, you can get the full masterlist in my bio!

It was another normal morning. Well, not quite normal since there was a field trip, but it wasn’t like anything crazy was going to happen. Annie was sharing a seat on the bus with Peter, and she was using him as a pillow while she took a nap. The night before had been completely revolutionary. Only because she finally figured out what her audition song was going to be, but that took hours of work. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to patrol that night or not. Maybe she would, if only because Peter would be there.

Right when she was comfortable, however, Peter shifted and caused Annie to knock her head into his collarbone.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell was-” she stopped herself.

Outside the window, there was a huge doughnut-shaped spaceship in the distance. At least, Annie assumed it was a spaceship. Somehow, no one else seemed to notice it. She looked at Peter and she already knew exactly what he was planning on doing. There was that look of determination in his eyes that he only seemed to get whenever there was something that was clearly dangerous happening.

Annie leaned over and whispered, “I’m coming too.”

“What?! No way.”

“Yes way, we’re a team, remember?” she pointed out, “You don’t just get to pick and choose that.”

Peter sighed before nodding, “Fine, you’re right.”

He then turned behind him to get Ned to cause a distraction. Annie made a mental note to get a hold of Harper in case they hadn’t seen. How no one else was seeing this amazed her. Still, she shook the thought away and made a mental plan of how to get out of the bus without anyone seeing.

“We’re all gonna die!” Ned shouted.

Right as everyone rushed over to the side they were sitting on, Annie pulled Peter over to the other side, and he shot a web to get them out of the bus through the open window in the back. It would have been so easy to catch both of them, but if no one say the spaceship then she guessed it didn’t make much of a difference.

Before she knew it, they were in their suits and headed straight for the spaceship. Even though everything inside of her was screaming to just stay there. She ignored the thought, there was no way she was letting Peter just go by himself if she had any say in it. And she did.

As she followed him, gliding, she sighed, “Hey, Eve, can you do me a solid?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Can you call Harper real fast?”

“Yes, dialing ‘my idiot best friend’.”

Annie kept going as she heard the dial tone before there was a click, “Dude are you seeing this?!”

“That’s what I was calling you about. I’m headed right there,” Annie said.

Harper sighed, “I figured… just, be careful, okay? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be smart about it. I’m good with this type of stuff, and I’ll look great while doing it.”

“Whatever you say…” they trailed off.

Right then, a huge alien-looking thing almost hit her, “Okay, super sorry, Harper, but I gotta go there’s a big alien thing, love you, bye!”

Just like that, Annie was thrust into fighting some aliens that she knew nothing about. But they were giving her a lot of energy to work with, so she wasn’t complaining. She was just barely listening to what Peter and Tony were talking about, though she couldn’t remember when he showed up. Not that the fact he was there surprised her.

“Yeah, I want you kids to protect the wizard,” he said, gesturing to another alien that was a little bit away.

It caught Annie’s attention, “Wait, what wizard?”

“The one over there, don’t let them get the necklace,” Tony told her, “Good luck!”

Annie sighed, rushing over with Peter. When she got a second glance, she gasped. That was the wizard. The same guy who kind of saved her life. She would have to ask about everything later, there wasn’t any time to focus on anything but what they were supposed to do.

Peter shot a web at the wizard, and Annie used an energy barrier to keep him where he was. However, whatever the alien was using seemed to add more energy at a faster rate than she could take. They were losing ground, literally. Annie felt herself being lifted up off the ground. If Peter wasn’t going to let go then that meant they were headed straight for the spaceship.

“Peter, what do I do?!” Annie yelled, feeling her heart rate pick up and her hands grow shaky the further up she was lifted without anything below her.

He quickly grabbed her hand, giving her just a bit more confidence, “Hey, Mr. Stark, we’re getting beamed up.”

“Seriously? You make a Star Trek reference now?” Annie asked, rolling her eyes.

If nothing else, it managed to keep her from freaking out. Although, she was beginning to realize that she couldn’t breathe as well. Almost as soon as there was a piece of the ship for her to hold onto, the air seemed to get thinner. She couldn’t quite hear what Peter and Tony were talking about. But there was energy. Maybe it wouldn’t work but it was worth a shot. She created a barrier of energy around her face. It wasn’t the best way to breathe, but it gave her something.

That was when she looked up at Peter, “Did you get a costume change or something?”

“Um… you could say that. Come on, um… let’s get back,” he said, looking like he was about to drop off.

Annie looked at him, “Cut the crap, Peter, you just don’t want me going up to space with you. I get it. But I’m a big girl, and I can handle this.”

“Ann, we gotta go back.”

“You’re not gonna leave him here. I know that. Besides, I have a few words for that wizard dude. He has a ton of explaining to do.”

Once it was obvious that he wasn’t going to lose Annie any time soon, Peter started to look for a different entrance into the ship. Annie was more focused on keeping her energy barrier intact. If she lost concentration, she’d probably die. After a few moments, Peter found a way in, sneaking Annie inside as well.

It was about what she would have expected for an alien spaceship. She looked around, but it seemed like Peter was losing his mind over the tech. If the situation didn’t feel like it was going to affect the fate of the world, she probably would have let him look around a bit more.

“Come on, we gotta find them,” she whispered, pulling him further into the ship.

Peter frowned, “Why are we whispering.”

“In case there’s any more aliens. Stay on guard,” she told him, making sure that she could feel the energy and electricity coursing through the ship.

First, Annie saw the wizard and the alien. It looked like the wizard was being tortured, and it wasn’t looking too good. She didn’t know what was in the necklace, but she could see it was glowing. Quickly, she pulled Peter down with her so they wouldn’t be seen by the alien. That was when she heard it.

“...loyal piece of clothing,” Tony mumbled.

Peter jumped down, “Speaking of loyal-”

“What’re you doing is… Annie too?”

Annie sighed, hopping down, using the energy to make her land quietly, “Yeah.”

Tony looked between the both of them. The last time she saw him look at them with such irritation and moderate anger was after they nearly blew up the lab back at Lake Tahoe. Maybe they should have gone back to Earth.

“H-hey, I can explain,” Peter stammered, his eyes darting from Annie to Tony.

Tony looked at Peter, “Really? Do either of you realize what this is? You guys aren’t just going on a field trip to space. This is a one-way ticket-”

“Yeah, yeah I-I get that, but… the drop was too far down to really take Annie with me properly, a-and then the suit ended up landing on the ship and she was still there. I-I mean, you were still here too and the suit’s pretty intuitive, Sir, a-and so I guess it’s kinda your fault I’m here,” Peter paused.

Annie covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing out of shock. Then she elbowed Peter. What in the world was that boy thinking?

“Um… not that it’s my fault but um-”

Tony glared at both of them, “There’s no way in hell you guys thought this through.”

“I did,” they both said in unison. Annie raised an eyebrow, but nodded at Peter to go first.

Peter sighed, “W-well, you can’t be a neighborhood friendly Spider-Man if there’s no neighborhood… okay, that didn’t really make sense, but you know what I meant.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, what’s your excuse.”

“There’s a few. One, did you really think I was gonna just let Peter stay in space and spend all my time worrying about him like an idiot? And two, I never really made up for everything… you know, Tina and Carnival were kinda my fault and I never really solved either of those problems,” she said, shrugging.

Tony sighed, “Okay, fine, look down there, that’s the wizard, what do you guys do?”

Right as Annie was about to suggest a plan, Peter cut in, “Have either of you guys seen this really old movie, Aliens?”

The plan he came up with was better than anything Annie had in mind and Tony seemed convinced, so that was what they went with. Annie was in her position. She had to be backup and make sure the alien was the only one who went through the hole. So far, the alien wasn’t facing them and the wizard didn’t even know they were there.

That was when Tony started speaking to the alien. Now that she thought about it, the guy kind of looked like Squidward, but that wasn’t important. What was important was paying attention to what was happening, but the alien was so full of himself.

“My powers are far more superior,” the alien said, stepping towards Tony.

Annie rolled her eyes before muttering under her breath, “Bet.”

“Maybe, but the kid’s seen more movies,” Tony responded.

That was the signal, and Annie jumped right into action, not even hearing the blast as she made the knives around the wizard move away. Then came the harder part, there was so much energy that it almost felt like her powers were on high alert. She moved to pull everyone back by reversing the energy. What she never bothered to consider was that she was just some teenager literally going up against the cold, dark void that was space.

Though, everything ended up being just fine, and Tony patched up the hole. So she went right up to the wizard.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, crossing her arms.

The wizard nodded slowly, “I don’t need to talk to you. Now, are we going back to Earth?”

“The ship’s on autopilot and headed straight for Titan,” Tony said, looking at the screens.

He shook his head, “We cannot take the time stone to Thanos. Not under any circumstances.”

That seemed to send Tony into a raving rage. He started to go on about how he was going to fight Thanos. As soon as he mentioned Thanos being in his head for years, Peter and Annie exchanged glances.

Annie frowned, “Did he ever-”

Peter shook his head.

“Now we’re stranded thousands of miles away from Earth with no backup!”

“Um… we’re backup,” Peter interjected.

Tony looked at the pair again, “No. You’re both stowaways.”

“Okay wait, who are they? Are they your wards or something?” asked the wizard.

“I’m Peter actually-”

“Doctor Strange.”

Peter gasped, “Oh, we’re using our made up names! I’m Spider-Man.”

“Um… I’m Annie, or White Swan. Whatever works.”

The wizard, or Dr. Strange, went right back to Tony, “Look, we can go to Thanos, but if it comes down to it being between you, the boy, the girl, or the time stone. I’m choosing the time stone.”

“Right, good to know that you have a moral compass,” he commented before going up to Annie and Peter to mockingly dub them, “Congrats, you’re both Avengers now.”

With that, they were all kind of left to their own devices. It was the perfect time to finally get some answers for questions that had been in Annie’s mind for months. This time, she didn’t hesitate to go right up to the man.

“So… what’s up, Doc?” Annie asked, taking off her mask so it hung around her neck.

Dr. Strange rolled his eyes, “Very original. What do you want?”

“Answers, lots of answers. And if you’re gonna choose a piece of jewelry over me, then this is the least you can do.”

He scoffed, “This is not a piece of jewelry, this is the time stone. One of the six infinity stones. It literally controls time as we know it.”

“Okay, okay, whatever, I have a question or two for that too then… but I’m starting from the top. Where were you when Carnival was in Seattle? Because I was facing off against him on my own. Do you get that? I was barely even fifteen at the time-”

“That was your choice.”

“Because I have powers! So answer the damn question, where were you?” she asked, frowning.

He shook his head, “I barely even knew what I was doing at that time. I’m not sure if I was even in charge of the Sanctum at the time.”

“Right… okay, and that time stone thingy… actually, I can answer this one myself,” Annie paused, starting to see if she could take any energy from the time stone.

At first, Annie felt fine and she could see that her hands were glowing green and it was starting to travel up her veins. Then it took more effort, but then she fell to the floor, feeling dizzy.

The man sighed, “It’s an infinity stone. No one can just sap all the energy out of one of those things. Though, you might be able to.”

“Well I’m not your average person,” Annie said, pushing herself to stand back up, “That kinda made me feel sick, though.”

He looked at her, “How badly do you want to save the universe?”

“Um… pretty badly. Kinda the only way I can make up for… never mind, you wouldn’t care about that. What’re you on about?”

“It’s possible that if you sapped out all the energy of the stones… Thanos wouldn’t be able to complete his goal. But it would almost definitely kill you, and that’s if it worked. It might not.”

Annie looked at him, “But I could save the universe… you, Stark, Peter, everyone back home, they’d be okay?”

“If he’s defeated, yes.”

She nodded slowly, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before she knew it, they were headed right towards a planet. Probably the place they were going to meet Thanos. She had no clue what the guy looked like, but she was pretty sure that she knew what she’d have to do. First, they needed to land without dying.

“You gonna help your… boyfriend?” Dr. Strange asked.

Annie shook her head, “Nah, he’s basically a genius. I’m just damage control.”

“Nah, as in he isn’t your boyfriend, or nah, as in you’re not helping.”

She laughed, “Nah as in I’m not helping. Peter’s freaking great. You might not wanna protect him, but I do.”

There wasn’t much more time for talking as they started to his a rocky landing. Annie put up a barrier to protect the four of them, and it seemed like Dr. Strange was right on the same page as her. If they all got through this, she’d probably ask him how he managed to do it.

“Hey, guys, for the record, um… I’m really sorry if an alien comes and puts her eggs in me,” Peter mumbled, hanging upside down.

Tony looked at Peter, “You, I don’t want another pop-culture reference out of you for the rest of the trip.”

“Um… what I’m trying to say is something’s coming.”

That was when a group of complete strangers flooded the scene. They were under attack, and Annie was quick to block a hulking, blue man. She pushed him back, and ran off. No one else seemed to have any powers like she did, so she wasn’t too worried for herself. But she took her eyes off of everyone else and she suddenly saw Peter had a gun to his head.

“I swear if you even think about shooting him, I’ll electrocute you until you’re fried to a damn crisp,” Annie growled.

Tony sighed, “If you shoot my guy, I’m gonna shoot your guy.”

“Go for it, I can take it,” said the blue man.

An alien who looked like a cross between a praying mantis and a lady cried out, “Don’t, he can’t take it!”

“You’re right, he can’t,” Dr. Strange agreed.

The man pointing the gun at Peter removed his mask, “Look, I’m only gonna ask you one question. Where is Gamora?”

Tony took off his mask, “I’ll do you one better. Who is Gamora?”

“I’ll do you one better! Why is Gamora?” the blue man asked.

Then the man started blabbering on about Thanos, and Annie was still watching carefully in case something happened.

“Wait, what master do you serve?” Dr. Strange asked.

The man scoffed, “What am I supposed to say, Jesus?”

“So he’s from Earth,” Tony remarked.

He sighed, “I’m from Missouri.”

“That’s on Earth, you dipshit.”

The man shook his head, “Wait, who are you guys?”

Peter took off his mask, “We’re the Avengers, man!”

With that, they all quickly realized they were on the same side. At least, they weren’t serving Thanos in any sort of way. So that meant they would be able to team up. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything that would potentially kill her.

They were standing around, and Tony was attempting to come up with a plan, and Annie was mentally making the note to do what Dr. Strange suggested. Well, he never suggested it, but all the same she never would have tried it if he hadn’t mentioned it.

“Is that guy really yawning?” Tony asked incredulously.

The man, who she learned was Quill gave a shrug, “They’re not used to making plans. We’re more of the winging it type.”

“We are not winging it with Thanos.”

Peter looked over at the other two, “What do those guys even do anyways?”

“Kick names, take ass,” the lady replied.

“There was the dance-off to save the universe,” the blue man added.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, “Like in Footloose?”

“Exactly like in Footloose! Is it still the best movie ever made?” Quill asked.

“Um… it never was.”

Annie laughed, “Mamma Mia was, like, a gazillion times better.”

“The hell is Mamma Mia?”

She gasped, “It’s a jukebox musical, it’s got a ton of ABBA-”

“Wait, what?! That’s how much changed?”

“I guess so, anyways, you gotta listen to it and watch it, it’s a freaking masterpiece-”

“We’re not letting Flash Gordon get you wrapped up in musicals.”

The other alien lady looked over at Dr. Strange, “Does your friend do that often?”

Tony approached the wizard, and he sighed, “I was looking into all the alternative futures.”

“How many were there?”

“Fourteen million six-hundred-five.”

“How many did we win?’

“One.”

The word cut through Annie’s heart like a knife. There was only one shot, and it had to be the one where she sacrificed herself. That had to be the only way, she bit her lip in thought. She quickly held Peter’s hand. If she didn’t do this, then none of them were going to win. She had to do this.

Annie kept that in her mind as they went over the plan time and time again. Dr. Strange never spoke to her about the energies again, and she wondered if that meant she was just supposed to do this. And before she could really consider the weight of what she had to do, she was hiding behind wreckage with Peter.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Annie asked softly. Peter nodded, “Yeah, of course. I love you too. We’re gonna get through this, alright? I don’t know when we’ll get home, but we’ll get back in time for your audition next month for sure. We can take a few days off from all this. We could go see one of your musicals or something-”

She cut him off with a quick kiss when she heard another ship land, “That would be lovely,” she whispered.

It took everything she had in her to not let the tears stinging at her eyes fall. She couldn’t. Then he would know what she had in mind, and he’d try to stop her. But this was the only chance they had. He’d get over her, right? He had to.

She was lurched right into battle when she was the least prepared for it, and she attacked Thanos head on. Except, he wasn’t interested in her. That was fine by her, the less he noticed her the better. She wanted to make sure everyone stayed safe. Peter seemed to be having a great time until Thanos grabbed him by the neck and smashed him into the ground.

“That’s my boyfriend, you artificial grape-colored nut sack!” Annie screamed, letting out one of the largest bursts of energy she could manage.

Quill couldn’t help laughing, “You definitely lucked out. She’s a keeper.”

Annie then focused on the gauntlet. She didn’t want to just start off by killing herself. Not when there was the tiniest chance that it was unnecessary. Instead, she focused all the energy of the planet into that one gauntlet.

Things were starting to look decent enough. She could audition, and maybe, just maybe, she could even make it to her therapy appointment that was supposed to have been that day. Once the gauntlet was off, they could figure it all out from there.

Someone landed in a ship, but Annie wasn’t about to worry about who was there. She needed to focus on this, and they were starting to make a lot of headway on it.

The person who landed started asking around about Gamora. Annie really wondered just who in the world Gamora was. Probably someone important because as soon as the person who landed accused Thanos of murdering Gamora, Quill got a very specific look in his eyes.

“Hey, Quill, look, you need to keep your cool, come on, we’ve almost got this thing off,” Tony pleaded.

It wasn’t any use, Quill started to punch Thanos and yell at him. She looked at the man, shaking her head, there wasn’t anything she could do to stop him. So when Thanos was snapped out of his trance, they were all flung to the side. She noticed Peter caught the alien lady, and her energy broke her fall.

They were all together within minutes. Except for Dr. Strange and Tony. She knew what that meant and she felt tears stinging her eyes.

“Hey, I-I know this doesn’t look good, but it’ll be okay,” Peter told her, pulling her in for a hug.

Annie hugged him back tightly, “You’re right. It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” she paused for a few moments before kissing him, “I love you.”

“A-are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I’m positive, and you’re gonna be okay. Just trust me.”

Then she pushed him back before rushing off. She kept everyone else back just to give her a head start. When she got to where the main battle had been. Tony had something stabbed into his chest. There was no way he was going to survive that, but she needed to do this. Peter still had his aunt and Ned and Harper and everyone else. So she fixed her eyes on the purple stone in Thanos’s gauntlet. She started to pull the energy, and she knew that Dr. Strange and Thanos were too busy talking to notice. It started off and she was okay. She actually felt a pretty big surge of power, but she could only take so much. It was starting to feel like she was going to throw up. Everything was starting to spin, and she didn’t feel quite right. She refused to let go. This was something she had to do, and if she didn’t then more people were going to be hurt.

Peter would forgive her for doing this, right? He would have to. Maybe someday he would understand.

Right as she started to feel herself black out, she was shoved down. She could barely move, but she could have sworn she saw Thanos standing over her.

“Clever, but not quite enough,” Thanos said, turning back to Dr. Strange.

She watched him with the time stone, and she couldn’t quite make out what Quill was doing. Thanos was done before anything else could happen.

“What the fuck?!” Annie exclaimed, “Y-you said that I could-”

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” Dr. Strange said, “I never said it would work for sure.”

“But that was the only shot we had!” she cried.

He shook his head, “You should stick with your boyfriend.”

Almost like he heard, Peter made it to her, “You… what did you do?”

“N-nothing you need to worry about.”

“You were gonna sacrifice yourself, weren’t you? Annie, you don’t have to kill yourself to make up for everything,” Peter snapped, his eyes filled with hurt.

Annie buried her face in her hands, “It was supposed to work. You would’ve been okay, everyone would’ve been okay.”

“We can still be okay, come here,” Peter held her in his arms, stroking her hair, “I never would’ve forgiven myself if you died like that.”

“Yes you would’ve, it’s what I wanted,” she said, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He sighed, “I don’t know how I would’ve done it, though.”

“That’s not what matters. I know you, you’d be fine.”

Peter tilted her face up, “You really don’t realize just how important you are.”

“Obviously I do or I wouldn’t have… you know.”

He sighed, helping her up, “Let’s go see the others.”

“I’m still pissed at that Quill guy.”

Peter laughed dryly, “I’m sure you are.”

It was right as they started to get back that it happened. First it was the alien lady, then it was the blue man. Quill was next. Annie saw Dr. Strange fade away too.

That was when she literally felt energy slipping from her, “Peter!”

He turned to her with wide eyes. Annie was trying to keep herself together, literally. She was barely forcing herself to stay together.

“Hey, hey, you’re gonna be fine. W-we’ll get home, a-and you can audition for your musical. W-we need to have that Harry Potter marathon still-”

“Peter, I love you so, s-so much. P-please tell me you know that,” she felt herself still fading to the point she couldn’t speak without losing concentration.

He nodded, tears falling from his eyes, “O-of course, I know that. I love you too, so much. But you have to let go, Annie. I love you, but you need to let go now.”

Annie looked at him and shook her head, but he kissed her forehead, “Please, you can’t keep doing this.”

And with that, she fell into a pile of ash. There were a few reasons Peter wanted her to let go. The main reason was because if she stayed for another few moments she would’ve heard what he said next.

“Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good.”

Tag List (ask if you wanna be added for future works/ the sequel): @flushings-here / @moonstruckholland / @gaypanda / @twilightparker / @parkerpuff / @ironmaxn / @lcy-thot / @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy / @ijustdontknowsometimes / @dolphinsarecuteandstuff

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x oc #spider-man #spider-man x oc #spider-man x reader #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man: far from home #mcu #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel spiderman #fanfiction #all i ask of you fic

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1d-sexualdesires · 5 years

Note

10 and 20 please?

HERE IT IS! Also angst and smut - V

10. DON’T LIE TO MY FACE AGAIN & 20. SUCH A BEAUTIFUL BODY WHY WOULD ANYONE HATE IT?

Harry doesn’t know what to do anymore, he’s as happy as can be being a new father alongside his best friend and life partner, Y/N. But she doesn’t seem to feel the same and he can’t really understand why. So he’s been trying different things to show her how much he loves her, but the past few months have proven very difficult.

“Hey babe.” He whispers coming into the nursery, taking in the small smile she gives him. She looks tired and her eyes are a bit swollen and red, but that’s not from being tired. She’s swaying the bassinet to keep their little boy sleeping, “I’ve done something.” He said and she glanced up concerned, she stood and grabbed the monitor and followed him out to the hallway.

“What’s going on?” She asked and he smiled.

“Nothing bad, love. I have booked us a spa day and we will stay there overnight.” He said and she shook her head.

“Harry, no. What about the baby?” She said and he placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Mum’s gonna come over and spend the night with him and it’ll give us some much needed mommy & daddy time and a little break, yeah?” He asked smiling and she shook her head.

“I don’t need a break, Harry.” She reasoned and his brows furrowed.

“What’d you mean, don’t need a break? You’re putting in overtime for an already full-time job!” He said and she chuckled.

“S’not a real job.”

“It’s the realest and most important job, babe. Being a mum is really hard work. Besides, I already paid for it and you know I don’t like things going t’waste. And mum’s really excited to stay the night.” He said and she sighed. Yes, he had to chase her around the house and continue convincing her, but it was now midday and they were waving goodbye to Anne and their little baby.

****

The spa day was much needed, she was more tense than she realized and it had only been four months. She couldn’t help but wonder what an entire lifetime of motherhood would do to her. She feels bad because Harry has been trying to get things going again, to be how they used to be, but Y/N just isn’t how she used to be. How can she tell him that she’s not happy, that she feels less than satisfied with the way she looks, that she doesn’t feel comfortable with him looking at her in that way? She’s a mother now, things are different; literally and figuratively. She’s even embarrassed to tell him that she’s cut down on her eating and started up insanity while the baby is sleeping and he’s out, but she cannot keep up; she feels spent and that makes her feel worse about herself. Things are just different.

Harry could sense that Y/N was a bit worried, something was off, but it was expected. This would be the first time they stayed out overnight after the baby. So he did what he could, assuring her that Anne would FaceTime them before she put the baby down and that nothing was going to go wrong, as he pulled her along to the thermal bath. He stripped off his robe and put it on the lounge chair and quickly ascended down the steps and into the thermal bath. When he turned around to say something to Y/N, she wasn’t there and he frowned as he looked around until he saw her still sitting at the lounge chair, bathrobe still on just staring at the ceiling. He hurried out and sat on the seat beside her.

“Babe, are you alright?” He asked softly and she nodded, not bothering to look over to him, “Are you sure?” He pressed and she finally glanced over to him. He looked really good, he’d been working out and it showed.

“Yeah, just tired.” She said softly and he didn’t believe her one bit.

“If yeh say so…” he trailed off and he reached for her hand, “Well how about we get you out of this thing,” he said, tugging on the robe, “and you come in for a little? Supposed to help you relax and something about the minerals are good for sleep and pain. Plus, the water is really warm and we can cuddle, there’s a little bench thing over by th-”

“I think I just want to go to the room.” She interrupted and he was surprised, blinking back before nodding almost dumbly.

“Want me to come with you?” He asked standing with her and she shook her head.

“No, no, you enjoy, babe. M’just not up for it right now, could use a nap.” She said and he nodded, kissing her lips quickly.

“What about dinner, should I come get you for that?” He asked and she shook her head to that also.

“M’not feeling hungry at all.” She lied and he nodded, frowning as she disappeared down the walkway. He went back in for maybe another ten minutes, but he had a really bad feeling, so he got back into his robe and hit the showers to rinse off before heading off to their suite. He opened the door quietly, to not disturb Y/N, but he frowned when he could hear her sobbing over the shower, concerned over everything he hurried inside and drew the curtain back, making her scream in shock and he sighed when he saw nothing bad had happened.

“Harry, get out!” She shouted, pulling back the curtain and he groaned in frustration, she had been like this for months, he was so frustrated he wanted to shout at her, but instead he slammed the door to the bathroom and angrily paced the room. When she was sure she was alone in there she started crying again. He could hear her… he felt bad and he didn’t know what to do, a new wave of frustration came over him and he burst back into the bathroom, not bothering with the curtain, she was going to close it anyway.

“What is wrong? Tell me! I’m tired of trying to figure it out! I’m tired of you ignoring me! I fucking miss you, whoever you’re becoming is not the person I fell in love with and it’s so fucking infuriating!” He shouted and she cried harder. “Did I pressure you into having a baby? Are you unhappy?” He asked, voice cracking this time and she sobbed harder making him feel guilty… had he pressured her? “If I had known… I’m sorry? I love you and I just…if you regret it please tell me, I don’t want to keep you from what you want.” He said and she sighed.

“S’not that.” She sniffled, “I just… fucking look at me!” She sobbed, tearing the curtain open and he took her in, wiping his tears and shrugging. “You can’t tell me I’m the same as before.” She sobbed and he groaned, pulling her forward and hugging her tight as she broke down once more and he comforted her.

“Baby, it’s not the same, but you’ve never been more beautiful.” He assured her and she shook her head.

“You always say that and it’s not true! Don’t lie to my face again.” She said pulling away.

“I’m not, Y/N. What’s a few pounds?” He asked and she groaned.

“S’not just a few pounds. It’s the fact that I have all these gross marks on my boobs and stomach! My nipples are ugly now because our kid bites me so fucking much! I can’t even wear a fucking nice shirt because I’m always fucking leaking, and my periods are the worst thing ever now! Like I love you and I love our son, but I hate myself, Harry! I hate the way I look and the way I feel and I just wish I was better.” She cried and he almost wanted to laugh because she was talking fucking crazy, he just hugged her tight.

“It’s alright, babe. Let it out.” He said rubbing circles into her back, kissing her head, she was gasping between sobs and he wished he could make her see that she was perfect, to him.

“Don’t even want to be seen in public with you, you still look so fucking hot and I look like a fucking whale. I can just see the tabloids and comments… Harry Styles and his Whale of a Wife, Y/N!” She sobbed and he tried his best to hold it back, but he couldn’t help but laugh at that. His body was shaking as he hugged her tighter than ever.

“Don’t laugh! This is serious!” She said pushing him back and he just plopped down onto the ground shaking with laughter, he could hardly breathe and despite her tears a smile broke out on her face. “Harry!” She whined and he gasped for air, finally letting out his obnoxious laugh as he rolled on the ground, holding his stomach and she groaned, trying to suppress her own laugh.

“You’re the fucking worst! I hope our child doesn’t have your laugh.” She said crossing her arms over her naked chest and he just continued laughing, “You’re fucking drooling.” She said and finally he was calming down.

“Baby, I swear m’not laughing at you, s’just what you said, I wasn’t expecting that.” He promised and she rolled her eyes before heading into the room. “Hey, come back I wasn’t done.” He said picking himself up and stopping her from sliding into another bathrobe. “I’m sorry, love. I wish I could do more about the things that are bothering you and I know it’s hard to literally have your entire world change from one day to the next and I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but in my eyes you’re even more perfect than you’ve ever been.” He said and she sighed.

“M’just… scared. Remember Nelly? How her husband cheated on her with their babysitter? She told me that every man feels un-attracted to their wives at some point. Usually after they have kids and I just… I feel self-conscious and I am try-”

“That hurts, baby. I would never, ever, ever do something like that to you or our son. Fuck Nelly’s cheating husband, that’s not her fault. If anything, every time I see our little boy I want you even more. Like, we did that. After something like that how could I ever stop loving you or wanting you?” He asked and she sighed.

“I want the mommy make over.” She said and he grinned.

“Y’don’t need that.”

“No, but I would feel better. At least get a lift after I stop breastfeeding, they’re dropping really fast.” She said and he chuckled.

“Fine, but just know that this size is really nice. Like, really, really nice.” He whispered, kissing her softly and she smiled against his lips.

“Why are you hard? We’re still having a serious conversation.” She said drawing back and he shook his head.

“It stopped being serious after you presented me with your tabloid title a few minutes ago.” He said, started to laugh again and she rolled her eyes.

“Forget that, please.” She begged and he grabbed handfuls of her ass, pressing her closer.

“M’never going to forget that.” He said and she shook her head. “Now, you may be a mum now, but you’re still my girl.” He said kissing her hard and she hummed, “You are, right?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, m’your girl.” She assured him and he smiled.

“Good. So, m’still going to fuck you like you’re my girl.” She bit her lip and he smirked. “You’re a fucking goddess, don’t you forget it.” He said and she smiled.

“Don’t let me.” She whispered and he took the challenge. In a second his face was buried in her pussy, sucking at her clit and her hands tangled in his curls, they hadn’t done anything in more than four months, he was so ready to make her cum. His fingers pressed into her and she moaned as he pressed them in to the knuckle at a fast pace, making her legs tumble.

“Fuck, are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He asked and she moaned loudly as he began sucking at her clit again.

“Yes, fuck! M’cumming, fuck babe!” She moaned, throwing her head back as he pressed her legs open with her free hand and she came undone, she was panting, seeing flashes of color behind her closed eyelids, loving the feeling of his curls between her fingers. He was easing her through, but he was impatient, his cock throbbing of the idea of being inside of her. Of connecting with his favorite human being, his best friend in that way again. “Baby, baby,” she whispered, pulling his hair, making him glance up, “Please, I need you.” She whispered and he bit his lip.

“Such a beautiful body,” he whispered, kissing his way up her body, “why would anyone hate it?” She moaned as he carefully licked at her nipples and gently palmed at her breasts before kissing up the column of her throat. He hissed when her soft hand took a hold of his prick, her thumb rubbing in the pre-cum beading at his slit and she hummed.

“Can’t believe I’ve gone so long without your big, thick cock.” She moaned, reaching down a bit further cupping at his balls and he groaned. “Missed you, so much.” She moaned and he nodded.

“Fuck, me too, baby. Let me get in, don’t think m’gonna last.” He said.

“S’alright, H. We’ve got all night.” She assured him and at that he groaned, grabbing his prick and painting up her soaked little pussy, rubbing his tip on her clit making her shudder. “Oh god, please get inside me, H.” He wasted no time in guiding himself down and pressing into her slowly and he moaned, both hands around her head, he pressed his lips to her forehead and moaned when he bottomed out.

“M’not lying, baby, swear it. Still have the tightest little cunt. God, take me so fucking good.” He groaned, pulling back and she gasped when he thrust back in, hard, hitting right at her g-spot.

“Fuck, harder. Please! Fucking wreck me.” She begged and he obliged. Fucking her hard, the sound of skin on skin and their moans filling the room. “God, I love you so much.” She whimpered, back arching as he thrust particularly hard.

“Love you, too. You’re my perfect angel, my fucking queen.” He punctuated with every thrust and she hummed, relishing in the feeling of being with him again, feeling more like herself than she had in so long. “You’re gonna make me cum.” He moaned as she squeezed his cock, tight making his eyes roll back in his head, “M’gonna cum so hard for you baby.” He moaned and she moaned, reaching down to rub at her clit, he always wanted her to cum first.

“Harry, fuck!” She whined, back arching, breathing in his exhales as that knot in her tummy came undone. Her whole body was tingling and she was gasping as he buried his cock deep inside of her, delivering fast thrust before stilling in her.

“Fuck, Y/N! Oh baby, feel so good.” He groaned as he filled her up. They kissed hard, breathing ragged considered what had just happened they pulled back, panting. “Wanna stay in you forever, such a tight, warm little pussy.” He said, thrusting shallowing despite the sensitivity.

“Wait, wait, let’s recover. Promise, there’ll be more.” She said kissing him heatedly, sucking on his bottom lip. He pulled out, his cum started to drip out and he pressed his fingers into her pussy, keeping it in her. His eyes widened when she brought his hands up and sunk his fingers into her mouth, sucking eagerly moaning at the taste and he drew them out gently, “I miss how you taste. So good.” She said kissing his fingertips and he bit his lip.

“How about I give you another baby?” He asked kissing her deeply and she chuckled, pulling away.

“Yeah right. You’re fucking crazy.”

#1D-sexualdesires #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #blurb #request

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wendynerdwrites · 6 years

Text

Random Rant about Princess Diana, Prince Charles, and Camilla

Okay, so despite being a gauche, socially progressive American who really doesn’t get why monarchies exist anymore, I am kind of a low-key royal watcher/follower. I was a HUGE fan of/admirer of Princess Diana when I was a little girl and am still a fan of hers in many ways.

But I’m also a fan of Charles and Camilla.

“But how???? Charles and Camilla ruined Diana’s life! They are eeeevil!!!!”

First of all, NO.

Diana Spencer had intense issues way before she hooked up with Charles, for one thing. Her parents had a bitter divorce and custody battle that basically ravaged her childhood. Seriously, at one point her dad was practically holding her hostage away from her mother during Christmas. You think the Wales divorce was messy?... It was. But it was basically just a sequel to Spencer family drama.

By Diana’s own words, she struggled with bulimia from her adolescent years and had severe abandonment issues.

Ever wonder why William’s pet cause is mental health? DIANA IS WHY.

She also grew up among a very specific “set” that included the royal family. She and her sister were playmates to Prince Andrew and Prince Edward. She grew up with the same weirdo aristocratic approach to marriage as them as well which was: pop out an heir and spare, then do whatever.

While she was young and naive and apparently did have a HUGE crush on Charles that resulted in her buying into the fairy tale narrative, she wasn’t the total shrinking violet/know-nothing people sometimes make her out to be. Diana thought she’d be the exception. She was wrong. But she DID enter that marriage with a shit-ton of pre-installed baggage that CHARLES HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH.

Second of all, ALSO NO.

God... This engagement and marriage was made of such crazy fuckery. But Diana was all in, hook, line, and sinker.

Charles, less so. And the situation was just... so fucked, you guys. And, no, sorry, it wasn’t all Charles’s fault. Or Diana’s fault. Or Prince Philip’s fault. But it went like this:

Basically, Chuck was pushing 30, was heir, and had yet to further the royal line, so to speak. It had been nearly a decade since he was formally invested as Prince of Wales. And the issue of him getting hitched had always been... there, but it really got serious as he neared the big 3-0. Especially since his younger sister, Anne, was already married and had a kid. But over the years, he’d had Richard Nixon try to set him up with his daughter and had been geared towards various COUSINS by no less than his “Uncle Dickie” AKA Lord Mountbatten AKA the guy who hooked Prince Philip up with Queen Elizabeth, who was basically Charles’s second Father.

Things got serious as Charles got older, though. Rumors were getting out that he might be gay (remember, this was the late 70′s/early 80′s and Charles is HEIR TO THE THRONE. One factor is/was that Charles is/was a surprisingly progressive dude even then and didn’t bat an eye at employing men who were OPENLY GAY IN THE 70′s. But the thing was, whether or not Charles was gay, if the public believed that, it could have potentially caused a CONSTITUTIONAL CRISIS BECAUSE ROYALTY IS ALL OF THE EXTRA)

Charles was into aristocratic blonds... Fine. Perfect... Except for the part where the aristocratic blonds he tended to go for were non-virgins (and therefore completely unsuitable according to his beloved Uncle Dickie)... also married.

...That’s not Camilla, BTW. Camilla was already married to Andrew Parker-Bowles at this point. The lady in the picture there is Lady Dale “Kanga” Tryon, a fashion designer and Charles’s other mistress who actually lived a really interesting life culminating in a super tragic death. We’ll come back to her later.

But basically, Charles had to marry a virginal aristocrat, and fast. So he entered into a sort of courting pool of eligible ladies, at one point dating Lady Sarah Spencer, Diana’s older sister. But Lady Sarah went, “Nah, my sister is WAAAY more into you anyways. Date her.”

Now, if this sounds SUPER CREEPY, ANTIQUATED, AND MESSED UP, EVEN FOR THE 70′S AND 80′S, THAT’S BECAUSE IT IS. THIS IS THE WORLD THESE PEOPLE OPERATED IN, HOWEVER. AND THE ONLY THING MORE INSANE THAN ARISTOCRATS WERE ARISTOCRATS IN THE 70′S AND 80′S. THE ONLY THING MORE INSANE THAN ARISTOCRATS IN THE 70′S AND 80′S WERE THE ONES IN THE 60′S. JUST ASK PRINCESS MARGARET. THIS SHIT IS TAME COMPARED TO THE SHIT CHARLES UNCLE TONY GOT UP TO. POINT IS, THIS WAS WEIRD FROM THE BEGINNING.

Anyways, the two seemed to hit it off, but they were only dating a couple months when the press moved in and started making everything a hundred times crazier. Diana found herself hounded by the press, culminating in the papers slut-shaming her for LITERALLY TAKING AN OVERNIGHT TRIP ON A TRAIN.

This prompted Charles dad, Prince Philip, notorious for choosing his words poorly, basically sending a letter to his son telling him to basically shit or get off the pot before he ruined Diana’s life and reputation. Charles, emotionally stunted and basically terrified of his dad, took this to mean that he HAD to marry her, or he WOULD ruin her life. Keep in mind Diana was SUPER SUPER into him.

WHICH LED TO THIS DISASTER:

Charles went into this marriage feeling bound by duty, figuring Diana was game, that he could make her happy, that he was doing the right thing, and that she’d be along for the ride --- which included the model of marriages they were both used to.

He was VERY WRONG.

Diana went into her marriage completely in love, knowing that Charles had girlfriends, knowing adultery was the norm, believing she’d be a game-changer.

She was technically right, but NOT in the way she imagined. She fell for the fairy-tale Charles thought they were merely selling to the public. She was an emotionally unstable 19-year-old with severe family baggage, and Charles was an emotionally stunted prince with his head shoved right up his royal butt.

What a winner.

THIRD OF ALL, NO.

Remember that Kanga lady from the picture above? Lady Tryon was a business woman and fashion designer. And one of Charles’s mistresses.

She was Camilla’s rival. NOT Diana’s.

See that dress Diana is wearing at Live Aid? Designed by Kanga, Charles’s mistress. Yes, Diana knew who Kanga was and the nature of her relationship with Charles. At this point, Diana was cured of her delusions and was onto her own affairs. She and Kanga became friends and basically allied against Camilla.

At this point, Diana accepted that she and her husband would not be faithful to one another (it’s worth noting that during the early years of their marriage, both of them WERE supposedly faithful. Charles had his last run-in with Camilla the night before the wedding and kept away from both her and Kanga at least until Harry was conceived. But he also basically told Diana at that point that eventually, he’d be bed-hopping again. Basically, he knew Diana would have to be faithful until an heir and spare were produced and seemed to consider it fair play that he not indulge while she couldn’t. If that sounds completely fucked up THAT’S BECAUSE IT WAS). She gradually stopped caring about Charles cheating. She just hated that it was with Camilla. She very quickly embarked on a string of affairs of her own.

----And yes, Charles was a douche. He was also dealing with a wife he did NOT understand who had severe mental health issues.

Diana did things like call Camilla late at night to tell her that there was a man waiting outside, hired to kill her. She would also sometimes abscond with Baby Harry and William without telling Charles or anyone. Not a big deal in a normal family. But they’re royalty. So basically, she was happy to let her husband go into a panic about his sons possibly being kidnapped because he had no idea where the fuck they were. Keep in mind that Charles’s own sister was nearly abducted in 1974 by a gunman and that in 1982, THE VERY YEAR WILLIAM WAS BORN, a man had snuck into the Queen’s bed in the middle of the night carrying a shard of broken glass. So, yeah, Diana grabbing the boys and taking them to Windsor Castle without telling anyone, including her husband? SUPER SHITTY.

Charles tried to get Diana help, but she didn’t trust him whatsoever (because of course she fucking didn’t, no one would). Diana didn’t start getting proper help for her mental health issues until the separation. But she was prone to fits of extreme paranoia and rage, at one point culminating in her physically attacking Charles while he was praying.

Point is, she had a lot of troubles and instabilities. While Charles and Camilla certainly did not HELP, this was shit that went back years and years. Granted, that WAS exacerbated by royal life, but much of that was the strain of royal work --- constant travel, unending media scrutiny, a ton of fame all at once --- and the intense workload she was given when she became Princess of Wales did not help, either. Diana was young, troubled, and had a ton of issues.

BUT

Charles did not ruin her life. Nor did Camilla. Especially since Diana was kind of a badass.

(Pictured: Badass Diana badassing through her badass post-divorce life like a badass)

She wasn’t a Rhodes Scholar, but she was a freaking genius at handling the press and an unparalleled activist. And she got some terrific revenge on her cheating husband, too. She nearly bankrupted him in the divorce (Charles had to borrow money from the queen) and turned him into a villain in the eyes of the press.

Once out of royal life, she felt comfortable enough to get help. She got joint custody of the kids. She found great fulfillment in her activism and did some really fantastic things for causes like AIDS and land mines. She had a string of hot, rich boyfriends who spoiled the crap out of her and she was adored the world over by almost EVERYONE. That even included her ex-father-in-law, Prince Philip, who still signed his letters to her as “Pa.”

Charles nor Camilla could NEVER have hoped to ruin her life. She had too much of it. Diana’s life was ruined by a drunk driver, some paparazzi, and a traffic accident.

(And to those who want to claim that the royal family had her killed: kindly fuck off. Mohammed Fayed has had his case dismissed repeatedly despite numerous appeals and investigations. The only way Prince Philip would have had Diana killed would be if he REALLY REALLY wanted to end the monarchy. Somehow I don’t think an exiled prince-turned-royal-consort wants that. There was nothing the royal family wanted more than to see Diana married off to some rich guy and fade into the background. The LAST thing they would want is for Willam and Harry’s mother to die tragically young and cement herself as an eternal legend. Diana’s death was a fucking nightmare for the BRF personally as well as professionally).

Charles and Camilla, meanwhile?

Camilla kept her head down and did quiet work for osteoperosis research after her mother was afflicted with it. Since becoming Duchess of Cornwall, she’s done extensive work on behalf of rape and sexual assault survivors. Among her initiatives was developing “wash bags” consisting of soaps and towels for victims to use after undergoing their rape kits.

Charles spent years being decried as a complete kook for being all worked up over stupid non-issues you might have heard of --- things like “climate change”, “sustainable farming”, “organic foods”, “the ozone layer” and a supposed “housing crisis” in Britain. Oh, and his lifelong project, The Prince’s Trust, is only one of the most important charitable organizations in the Western World.

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So yeah, if I have to hear one more comment about EEEEEEVIL Charles and Camilla ruining poor, wilting flower Diana’s life again, I’ll see red. It’s insulting to all three of them.

(Once again, for the record, I think monarchy is outdated and dumb, But if you are going to have one, your heir to the throne should be a Charles. Or a Victoria. But if you can’t have a Victoria, you should have a Charles.)

#princess diana #prince charles #camilla parker-bowles #camilla duchess of cornwall #brf #british royal family #royals

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