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hubookunaluwawa · 10 months

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the horrifying realization that someone genuinely knows you

it wasn’t supposed to go this way. it was supposed to be easy. casual. fun. but now, you feel like puking. because the second those forbidden words left his lips while he was buried deep inside of you, after a night of the both of you pretending not to know how the other felt, all hell broke loose in your heart. you were able to keep your composure through the end, but once he cleaned you up and fell asleep, you quickly grabbed your stuff and got the hell out of dodge.

your throat tightens up, and your eyes start to sting as you head for the bus stop. one minute passes. then five, and then ten. and then, as if this night hadn’t been bad enough, droplets of rain began to drizzle from the sky. this bus couldn’t be coming any fucking slower, you think, and you nervously tap the side of your leg, hoping with all your might that he didn’t realize you left, because if he did–

“y/n?”

fuck.

“hey!” you feign innocence as you quickly glance at him, “what’re you doing up?”

“i could ask you the exact same thing,” he returns, his smile masking something foreign… something vulnerable.

“oh, well, yeah, i mean, i have an 8 am class, so i have to head back to my place.” you feel your easygoing facade beginning to crumble as you continue to stare straight ahead at the road. you felt gross, lying to someone you always felt so comfortable around. you just hope he doesn’t realize it before the bus gets here.

“really?”

“yep!”

“i mean, i thought you said you don’t like doing… this…” he motions between the two of you, “the morning before an early class. said it fucks up your internal clock and stuff,” he remarks in a tone that makes it crystal clear he’s not buying a word you say.

you turn to look at him once again, and he’s staring at you with a hooded unwavering gaze that you’d mistake for apathy if you didn’t know him any better. unfortunately, you do know him better: enough to notice that the unfamiliar look in his eyes is blatant fear, as if he thinks you could disappear at any moment. and then, how much he knows you hits you all at once, and you’re left a scared little kid with no idea what to do.

“yeah, i guess i just forgot.” you’d have to be in complete denial to think he couldn’t hear the distinct crack in your voice, fake smile be damned. the two of you stare at each other for what feels like hours until the tears threatening to spill from your eyes make you look away.

“y/n.” but his eyes are still on you.

“mhm?” don’t.

“y/n, please.” only on you.

i can’t.

“i need you to tell me if i just fucked everything up back there.” the desperation in his voice is unmistakable, making you catch your breath. your face falls, and your heart hurts more than you ever thought possible.

“why’d you say it,” you whisper, “why’d you have to go and say it?” and his heart shatters at the brokenness of your voice because it was him who did this shit to you.

“when we started this, we promised it wouldn’t turn into anything. and it was fine when it was just me feeling something, but it won’t work with the both of us–”

“why?” something’s changed. he’s angry. “why won’t it work? why can’t we let it work?”

“because shit like this never does!” you scream, and you can feel everything you’ve been bottling up inside for the past few months escaping your body in one go.

“it never does,” you say with a quiet laugh. “we’d get together, and then you’d get bored with me–”

“i could never get bored with you–”

“–or i’d get bored with you,” you continue while noticing the fleeting look of hurt in his eyes that’s quickly overshadowed by anger, “and then we’d only be with each other out of obligation. we’d be ruining a really good thing just for the chance of something different, so just forget it, because whatever… it is that you feel won’t last,” you say as if it’s the funniest thing in the world while gesturing towards him.

“oh, fuck you.” he laughs, tugging his hair in frustration.

“fuck you!” you retort, delirious from the fact that this conversation is even happening at all.

“no, fuck you for trying to tell me that what i feel isn’t real.”

“okay,” you scoff as you begin to walk away. you don’t know where you headed, but as long as he’s not there, you know it’s where you need to be.

“and fuck you for making me love you! in more ways than just one!”

you freeze for probably the 50th time tonight, and you finally look at him again to see the shine in his eyes as he speaks.

“please don’t disappear when i tell you this,” he practically whispers to you with a once-again fearful look.

and you don’t. you’ve heard your fair share of “i love yous” in your life, and they all meant the same, substanceless, conditional thing. and so, the more you heard it, the less you believed it. you’ve seen relationships–both yours and those of the people you care about–fall apart because people will romantically love those that they don’t even like platonically. so you believed, and continue to believe, that romantic love without a platonic basis is an incredibly common recipe for disaster. you know this, and yet, you don’t think you could run from him right now even if you tried.

“i’ve never felt what i’ve felt for you with anybody else. i think about you all the time. like, you’re the first thing i think about in the morning and the last thing on my mind every night. and whenever i see you, it feels like what everybody talks about in the movies and the songs, and it’s like the heavens open up and everything makes sense and my world’s brighter because you’re in it. i’m completely and utterly head-over-heels in love with you.”

he just thinks he is, you try to remind yourself, but this shit isn’t real. it’s just infatuation, a burst of attraction, a trick of the mind. it’ll go away eventually–

“but it’s not just infatuation like you always say.” you mentally curse him for being able to read your mind and peel back your layers so easily, but he takes a step closer to you as he speaks.

“because you’re also the one person i feel most comfortable around. i could be having the worst day of my life and seeing you for a few minutes would make it the best, because everything about you makes me happy! everything! i mean your smile and your eyes and the way you giggle at the corniest jokes and the little crinkle you get on your forehead when i say something dumb and… how you make me feel safe enough to talk to you and know you won’t think i’m crazy, and how passionate you get about the things and people you care about: all of it has me completely obsessed with you, and all i know is that i wanna keep making you breakfast in the mornings and holding you close at night and going on late night drives with you and hearing you laugh because your laugh makes me feel like i’m dreaming whenever i hear it and i can’t help but laugh too because i just can’t believe that, out of everybody on this planet, you keep choosing to be here with me and i just… i love you, y/n. and even if this doesn’t last, i wanna be with you for as long as i’m able, because it doesn’t feel like my love for you is ever gonna go away.”

and he breathes out the final declaration with a confidence that leaves you stunned because holy shit you’re actually starting to believe him. you can’t tell whether the wetness on your face is from the pouring rain or your own tears. maybe it’s both. but all you know is that, now, he’s holding your heart in his hands. and the scariest part is that he’s holding it with as much care as he’d treat his own heart. no, as much care as you want to treat his. and then, he starts to ramble, which you’re sure you’ve never seen him do (in fact, you’re pretty sure this is the most you’ve ever heard him speak).

you can’t stop yourself from looking at his lips, and the space between you grows smaller and smaller until it ceases to exist.

“i mean, it’s like you’re branded on my heart. you have this insane amount of control over me and i’m constantly wanting to be around you and hold you and make you happy because you feel like home to me but in the best way possible and i just want to be that for you too, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s completely cool, and we could just forget this conversation ever happened, because you’re also my best friend and i don’t wanna lose you, and i–”

your lips taste sweet against his, and your hands cup his cheeks with a delicateness that makes him feel like crying, and he feels happier than he thinks he’s ever felt because he knows what this kiss means.

you take a moment to break apart, the tip of your nose brushing against his as he chases after your lips, and you desperately proclaim, “i’d never get bored of you either. i love you. i love you. you’re all i want.”

the bus you were waiting on passes you both by, and he meets your lips again, sighing into the kiss with relief. and you both make a silent promise, right then and there, to never let each other go again.

#eren x reader #eren jeager x y/n #eren x you #fwb to lovers #college!eren #angry rain confession #love confessions #this was made w eren in mind but you could imagine it w whoever honestly #iwaizumi? erwin? suna? aki? choso? sakusa? the world is your oyster !! :D #this is my first fic so y/n is kinda based on me 👀#but i might make a series out of it on ao3 (bars)…#is delicateness a word???? i honestly have no idea #it's as real of a word as substanceless i'll tell you that much #the ending is very dookie and there’s a lot of run-ons but we move !!!#constructive criticism is very much encouraged like please tell me if it's trash !!!

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deepperplexity · 11 months

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Prompt: 24. Christmas Party

Pairing: Is there even one? It’s a secret… Read and find out, much like unwrapping a Christmas gift, no?

POV: Second, Reader [+First, Narrator]

Setting: Your home, kinda? More secrets I guess…

Continuation of: 23. Cherishing Joy (and 23 + 24 of RICKMAS 2021)

A/N: This fic, well, my late-night brain surprised me… Remember how I said I couldn’t possibly top the final fic of 2021? Well I think that may still hold true (it was so good last RICKMAS, wasn’t it?) HOWEVER(!) I still managed to come up with something COMPLETELY NEW for the final fic of this year and I seriously hope you will like it, gosh, I don’t know what to do if I disappoint you with this one… If that’s the case, I’m sorry RICKMAS 2022 didn’t end how you thought but for me, with all the new beginnings 2022 offered I find it rather perfect with something old turned into something new. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this during the decade I’ve been writing and reading fanfiction. Tell me if this has already been done and where I can find something similar if that’s the case please 😂

I’m very sorry I’m five months late… I promised I’d finish this, so here it is. Something different, something new yet old, something I hope will make you ugly-cry but in the end make you feel warmth and joy 💚

As always I have to take certain liberties with the Reader Character, or I can’t write a functional story, but I hope I’ve managed to make the right choices for the majority of you — like having an undying love of Snape for example 👀 And I usually avoid involving other forms of media directly but part of this fics creation is a fanedit I saw a long time ago that I to this day find to be absolute perfection, and it also happens that it’s something that not only brings me immense joy but fucking terrible pain as well since it’s an impossibility. And this fic, this story, is about just that. Accepting you cannot do anything about the impossible but you can find joy in this life and the possibilities within it — even if there will always be things we wish to change and things we cannot see ourselves.

I’ll let you get on with the fic, after all, you’ve waited for months 🙈😅💚

Tags/TW’s: Honestly, there’s no real warnings beyond this fic being emotional af and based on the real you…

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 6.5k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

You bolted upright. The little blue star glowing atop your table had come from nowhere. It just appeared, out of thin air. You clutched your wrist, feeling the strings from last year beneath your palm. Again? You thought and the joy which shot through you mixed with terrible dread. You remembered the pain from last year, the tears and the goodbyes. The horror of having to leave them all behind, knowing they had all been waiting for you to arrive.

But then there was the purest of joy, getting to hug them, see them, talk with them. It had been more than you could ever have dreamt of. So, it wasn’t really strange that you reached for the star with trembling but quick fingers, was it?

It unravelled, unfolding itself in your hand as if it were made by paper. The faint blue glow turned brighter as the star disintegrated into glittery dust floating into the air. You watched with wonder while I felt my entire body morphing, this is not gonna be pleasant, but what wouldn’t I do for you, darling.

Your eyes widened before a scream left your mouth as I appeared. “You’re-, what-, who-, you’re Helena Bonham Carter!” you shrieked while I coughed out some universe dust. “You know, travelling between dimensions is not comfortable, do you remember that awful feeling of falling upwards?” I asked, tugging on the puffy sleeves of my sparkling white dress with tiny hands before flying over to the window. The darkness outside offered me a hazy reflection.

“Oh, well, this is a rather pleasant form,” I said with a voice not my own. “You’re-, you’re a fairy?” you asked and I turned mid-air, my little wings flapping behind me while the huge dress swished about, all sparkles and shine. “I think, you may have conjured me as a fairy godmother, doesn’t Miss Helena play that role in Cinderella?” I asked while floating forward, being a miniature version of a human. “I conjured you?” you asked and I nodded, a glittery wand appearing in my hand while my dress turned even shinier. Now, I couldn’t very well begin explaining the ins and outs of magical creativity or the flow of magic, nor the many layers of the universe or the way a wish in one world may be granted in another. That was too frikkin much to get into - and you looked kinda shocked, still.

“Next time, try thinking of someone less, umh, puffy, if you don’t mind, darling,” I said with a smile and I couldn’t help but adore the confused blush creeping across your cheeks. At least you seemed to relax a tad more. “Did I fall asleep?” you asked. “Nope, not at all, I can slap you if you want to make sure?” Your hands shot out into the air. “No, no, I’m good, I’m all good,” you protested while I fluttered down to stand on your table, pushing at the leftover glitter with my shoes.

My mannerisms seemed to take after those of the person whose form I was in and I quite liked Helena’s ways of moving around a lot and always doing very loud expressions with her face, very much like myself in my own world. I shook my wand, sparkles coming out of it after a few waves. “There we go,” I said and plopped myself down on the edge of the table, dangling my feet. “Well, sit, I’m gonna strain my neck if you stand like that.” You flopped down on the couch faster than I had expected.

“Thanks, now—” “I’m sorry, but who are you if you’re not her, or a fairy godmother?” you asked and I tilted my head, a tad offended truth be told but I guess the question was valid. “Plex, obviously, who else would I be?” “You’re Plex?” “Well yeah, I don’t look like this usually, but magic is strange and I think since you conjured me into this world I had to take on a form you would find comfort and safety with, one of the rules of magic that’s summoned. The summoned can’t really choose their form, it’s complicated, shall we get on with it?” “With what?” you asked, looking confused yet again. “You’re heart’s wish of course.” “My-, what?”

I sighed and got myself up (not bloody easy when wearing an enormous dress you know). “So, every heart has several wishes, one of those wishes got me here,” I began while pacing over the table, “and given I’m here it has to be a creative wish about Alan Rickman, that’s the wishes I grant, so what’s your wish about him? And no, I can’t get him back or allow you to see him - he’s quite the angel though, I must say, and he’s fantastic at dinner parties, always entertaining.” “You know him?!” you shrieked and I stopped, looking at you in that bored way of Helena’s. “Well, obviously, how do you think I manage to get all his characters so on the nose? Pun very much intended, mind you,” I said with a smirk. “He’s a terrible co-writer, by the way, being a director and all that, so I only allow him to give me five comments per work and that’s it. He’s still rather pissy about me killing you off at the end of Death’s Judge you know,” I continued with a pointed look toward you, “but he’d already used his five comments for the last book, so, whoopsie-daisy, what can you do?” I half giggled and half sighed while shrugging my shoulders in that distinct way of Helena’s.

I looked around, allowing you a moment to stop gaping at me. “This isn’t really festive, is it?” I flicked my wand, getting the sparkles to work again and drew it all around the room, making Christmas lights, candles, little figurines and even a gingerbread house appear with a skating little elf on a mirror made to look like ice. “Much better.”

You were still gaping at me when I turned back; I sighed. “You know, we don’t have all night so what’s your wish darling?” I didn’t mean to be rude but the magic would only last for an hour, and the sooner that hour could start the better I could make that hour for you. “I-, I don’t know,” you said. “Sure you do, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before you shook your head. You seemed all out of sorts and even if I could feel your wish I couldn’t grant it if you didn’t tell me something about it. So, I floated about the room for a moment longer while your eyes followed me. It was strange being seen by you. Usually, I was the one watching and none would be the wiser about it — ever.

“Tell you what,” I said and flew up to your face, “what do you wish for most regarding Alan? That he’d said something specific? That he had worn some specific clothes?” I asked. “Well, no, not really. I just…” “Yes..? You what?” “Oh, I just wish there was more of him, you know… Like, just, more. He left us too soon and now there’s nothing left I haven’t seen of him. And, he should have played more parts like Turpin and Snape, you know, the dark and truly brooding type with a streak of callousness almost. He does-, did those so well and I wish there had been more.” “Well, there you go then,” I said with a smile while twirling away from you, feeling my magic pulse and sizzle within my veins — my creativity already running away with me when my eyes snagged on your bookshelf filled with knick-knacks, figurines, books and movie-related items. There was the standard Harry Potter merch too of course, but that was not what my eyes got stuck on.

“A Disney fan, are we?” I asked with a smirk, feeling things fall into place. “Well, yes, who’s not in love with Disney?” “True, true, very true,” I admitted while nodding and thinking, the tip of my wand tapping against my bottom lip.

THAT’S IT! “This whole time-, but of course! How silly of me,” I chided myself with and turned back toward you with quite the mischievous smile — Helena truly has the most marvellous expressions, perhaps I should take on her form more often? “Umh, what? What’s silly?” “Oh, don’t you worry, darling. Plex has this in the bag! Now, let’s see, we’ll need, some sparkle, some… twirling, annnnd-, there!” My wand turned into my magical pen while the inkhorn, glowing a marvellous shade of purple with red mist coming from it, plopped into existence right at that moment.

My hand instantly began filling the air in front of me with sparkling words. I couldn’t believe the luck of having to grant your wish, the magical force of creativity always the most strong and powerful when shared and wished for by others.

“You still have the strings around your wrist, good, good, good,” I muttered to myself while glancing toward you, your wide eyes seemingly enchanted by the glowing letters quickly turning into sentences and paragraphs mid-air.

“Remember last time you had to hold your breath?” You nodded eagerly. “Well, you might wanna close your eyes and do just that in three, two, one!” I flicked my pen, slashing the air at the end of a sentence and was pulled out of your universe when my creativity alone took over, catapulting you through time and space, sending you to another world nearly identical to your own…

≪⁕≫

Not again! You thought and cinched your eyes while barely having enough time to inhale a deep breath. The pulling around your stomach, the feeling of falling upwards just as horrendous as last year.

You gasped for air as your feet hit the ground. The world spun for a second longer before you managed to open your eyes only to scrunch your eyebrows. “What in the world?” you asked out loud while looking around your own home, your own living room. Yet, it wasn’t. There were little things out of place, small objects you didn’t recognise on your shelves, the windows a different shape and the curtains a different shade than your own. Same colour though.

The TV was on, some strange talk show with a Christmas theme to it. You didn’t recognise the woman who seemed to be the host. Not that it mattered, you were too busy wondering why you felt at home yet also didn’t. Why there were no posters of Snape on the walls or why the room lacked all the details, merch and fandom creations you’d had of him in your true home. Where is-, is this another-, why wouldn’t I have Snape everywhere? Oh god, no, don’t tell me there’s a universe where Alan didn’t play Snape?!

Your reactions made me smirk as I hovered next to you, unseen once more. I was there, but you would never know it. I was waiting, with my heart fluttering as I listened in on your nearly panicked thoughts.

Applauding erupted and your eyes got snagged by the TV. There he was. In the flesh, with his distinct smile and that gentle waving he always did when walking up on a stage or passing fans. Alan Rickman. Alive and well. You gasped as you sank down on the couch, your body instinctively knew where it was while your eyes were glued to the TV.

Your hands went to your mouth, staving off another harsh exhale. He looks… older. Oh my god, he looks older! Tears formed in your eyes while you watched Alan take a seat opposite the host, still smiling widely with more wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, slightly longer and more white hair than before and his belly was there. He was rounded and healthy looking, no sign of the cancer that stole him from your world.

“What a greeting,” the host said. Alan chuckled and your heart stuttered. “Quite the welcome, indeed,” he said and your brain seemed to falter at hearing him speak, new words in a new manner in a new environment. “But we’re not here to discuss greetings and the amount of love the world has for you and your phenomenal character portrayal, are we?” the host continued, her dark eyes alight with appreciation and a hint of wonder while she viewed the man you loved above all else.

Alan chuckled on screen, leaning back and then laughing a bit louder while he gave the audience and camera a direct look. Oh god, he’s alive… He’s alive and well and… happy. “So, now, to the question we’re all wanting to hear your answer to,” the host said while she leaned forward and Alan gave her his attention while you leaned forward as well, entranced by the screen and in utter havoc at seeing him once more.

“Is it a Christmas movie, or isn’t it?” the host asked and your mind got flung to Die Hard, the scene where Alan entered the building with his goons and you giggled at the fact that even in other universes this appeared a question that was repeated time and time again, every December. You knew he’d say no but you couldn’t wait to hear it, hear his voice in this new manner, even darker and slightly raspier than in your world as he was now seventy-nine — six years older than he’d ever be in your world.

Alan’s laugh pulled you out of your remembrance. “Angelika, must we do this every year? My answer remains the same, darling,” he said with a smile and your mind screamed like a school girl at hearing him use the term ‘darling’. The host, Angelika, smiled and asked him to indulge her. “It’s not a Christmas movie,” he said, “it will never be a Christmas movie.” “Yet every year, on the twenty-first of December it plays on television,” Angelika said with warmth in her voice while Alan shrugged and did that specific little lifting of his brows.

“I mean, what sort of Christmas movie has nothing to do with Christmas?” Alan continued while the audience laughed. “There’s fire, death, a manhunt and all sorts of un-Christmas-like things, not to mention the backlash about the romantic interest he took in her, and in this adaptation her of him.” “What?” you asked out loud, sitting up straighter while Angelika nodded and agreed with him. “What romance? What woman?” you asked the TV as Alan leaned back in his seat.

The host turned toward the camera. “Text us a yes or a no, tell us what you think, is Paris In Flames and Lust a Christmas movie? Is this upturned, distorted live adaptation of the classical story a must for Christmas to be complete for you?” she asked the audience and camera and you had no idea what movie she talked of. There was no movie like that in your universe.

“Angelika, honestly, how could a movie about a judge falling in love with the thing he hates the most be a Christmas movie? He kills her and himself in the end, it’s more the retelling of Romeo and Juliette, a tragedy, than that of the Hunchback Of Notre Dame that’s about freedom,” he said and your entire body stiffened. Your heart hammered, your mind turned utterly quiet and the world seemed to hold its breath along with you. As if time slowed down as realisation dawned on you.

“I’m sorry, Alan, but I think you’ll be outvoted on this one,” Angelika laughed along with the audience’s clapping in agreement. Alan simply laughed and shook his head. “I’m grateful for the love this story has received though, with its darker theme and twisting of the original story it nearly feels like the untold story behind it all,” he said and the audience cheered anew, chanting Alan’s name with love.

“Well, we’ll see what the voters say in a few minutes. First, we’ll watch one of the numerous fan edits sent in for this celebration of Paris In Flames and Lust’s twentieth anniversary!” The crowd erupted in cheers while the camera zoomed in on Alan, his warm smile unmistakable. He was flustered and honoured, you knew all his expressions and the way his eyes darted between the crowd and the host had your heart in upheaval.

And then the sound slowly died out, the sound of a song you’d never heard before began to play, the male singer singing in French as the screen went from black to an array of colours, a woman dressed in the most beautiful saree, laughing and moving in slowmotion across the screen while colours were thrown and her face was split in absolute joy as the music turned louder. That’s-, no way! Deepika?! Oh my god, she’s-, is she Esmeralda?!

There was dancing and scenes of people, Notre Dame, a pope and finally, Alan Rickman… you were glued to the TV with tears streaming down your face as you watched the most beautiful fan edit you’d ever come across. The fact it played on what appeared to be national television fried your brain. This was not your world, this world was… better.

The music turned intense and you were lost to the story unfolding before you like a summary of the movie you would never be able to see in its entirety. But the edit had you in its grip as it tore at your heart with it’s beauty, the thought of having something new of Alan, of him playing the brooding, calloused and broken character you so loved him as. The screen lit up with colours and you sobbed as you watched…

[Watch THIS edit by Mina Le Fay before continuing]

Your eyes were brimming with tears, my own heart ached at seeing the pain-mixed joy you were drowning within. But you kept watching the TV as the talk show returned with a roar of applause from the audience as the camera swiped over them before landing back on Alan. I’ll never see it… You thought as he stood and bowed on the stage right before the crowd roared as the camera zoomed over to Deepika Padukone. Alan stepped toward her and they met with a deep embrace while the crowd went wild.

They spoke but the microphones didn’t catch the words and then Alan led her by her hand to the seat next to his. Your heart twisted, her beauty was striking even without the costumes and adornments she’d worn in the movie — which you’d only ever see that perfect adaptation of.

Angelika began speaking with the both of them but you cried and looked through the watery haze as Alan smiled and laughed with Deepika who seemed more than happy to see him again. Professional care and perhaps a friendship between them. He looked so utterly happy and well, so perfectly healthy and joyous. Just how you always pictured him. He was perfection and he was alive.

“So, Alan and Deepika,” Angelika said while you snivelled and swiped at your cheeks to rid you of the overflowing tears. “I’ve heard a rumour,” she continued and smirked at the two who both shared a look — as if they knew where the conversation was headed. “Go on, ask,” Alan said as you drew a shuddering breath. “Is it true you two are currently in the middle of producing the origin story of Judge Turpin where you, Deepika, will play the woman who got away in his youth?”

Your eyes widened, the TV was utterly silent as Alan and Deepika shared another knowing look. “Indeed,” Alan said, “but you have been slightly misinformed. As this tragedy did so well, we decided to do another. So, as you can guess, Deepika will play the woman Judge Turpin loved wholeheartedly and—” “Alan, you’ll spoil the ending!” Deepika said with a laugh while she grabbed his hand. “Oh, the ending is already out there, even if few have read that intricate story. I’m still rather surprised by it, and it being out there in such a way. Freely available… Nothing but passion for the art, just the type of writer I find most enjoyable to work with,” Alan said while the camera zoomed over to Angelika’s shocked face, her mouth agape while staring into the camera. “Not another word, Alan,” Deepika said with a smile and shake of her head and Alan chuckled. “Very well.” “What? NO! Tell me!” you shouted at the TV, desperate to figure out what he was talking about, but the first string around your wrist glowed. No, no, I need forever in this universe!

“Well, we shall all wait eagerly for that story to come to the screen, but do tell, who will be playing the young Judge Turpin?” Angelika said with a gleam in her eyes, hungry for information just like you. “We’re not allowed to disclose that yet, you must wait and see,” Deepika said and you wanted to scream. You needed to know.

A loud knocking came from the door and you jolted. What the— Another round of knocking. “Come on! Open up!” a female voice called, the sound muffled by the closed door. You didn’t recognise the voice though. “(Y/N),” she called out and knocked again, harder. “You’re so slow! I KNOW YOUR GONNA WATCH IT!” Whatch what? You wondered as you snivelled and wiped at your tears as the talk show was cut for commercials.

You walked over to the door, trying to calm your breaths and raging heart. Should I pretend I’m not here? You wondered but there was a pull within you, a sensation that told you whoever was on the other side loved you and was important to the you of this universe. “I swear to god—” another round of banging “—open this door right now! You’re not watching it without me!” the voice shouted and you reached for the handle while I watched with bated breath to see your reaction.

You pulled the door open slowly, but it got pushed open as a woman you’d never seen before entered in a rush. Her hair swished about her face, and her clothes looked worn and perfectly comfy. Much like your own clothes. “What took you so long?” she asked as she dumped a whole bag of snacks and drinks on the floor.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do? What do I say? You wondered as panic crept along your veins. She just stared at you, her beauty absolutely striking and the gorgeousness of her body — despite it being hidden behind puffy clothes — made you wonder how someone so perfect was in your home. What kind of universe you’d landed in where someone like her obviously had a close relationship with you.

“You’re always so quiet, I swear to god you were broken as a child,” she said with a deep sigh but there was love in her sweet voice, and care. The genuine kind. And as you stared at her, not knowing what to do with yourself she sighed and grabbed the bag anew. “Come on, it’s starting in two minutes,” she said after having glanced at her wrist and you simply nodded, not understanding the emotions that were bubbling within you. They were so warm, so familiar, so unknown.

As you closed the door she made her way into the living room. When you arrived she’d already covered the table with all your favourite snacks, your favourite drinks and some strange candies you’d never seen before. Perhaps they don’t exist in my universe?

“(Y/n), I swear to god, if you’re gonna just stand there and look at me like that I’ll kiss you to snap you out of it. Why have you been crying anyway?” she asked and you blanched. Was this a partner in this universe? Was she someone super important? It felt like it, in your heart. It felt like the woman looking at you was beyond important, but there was a barrier there too. As if the you in this world loved her and it transferred into you but you were from another universe so perhaps the sensation was yours but not yours fully?

“Don’t tell me, you watched the Angelika Realm show?” Your eyes widened. “Ha! I knew it, you’re such a sob, love.” The woman shook her head and laughed, but it was again in that warm and caring manner. As if she loved that about you. But you hadn’t cried for the reason she thought, no matter what reason that was. “Sit your ass down, it’s starting,” she said and you obeyed, sitting down on the other end of the couch as she switched the channel on the TV.

The Fox Century intro filled the screen and your eyes flicked between it and the woman on the other end of the couch. She was just so beautiful and you felt a lump form in your gut, a knot of worry too familiar for you. The comparing started that very same second, the doubt of yourself consuming you while you tried to focus on the TV and not all the things perfect with her and wrong with you.

“God, I’m so excited, every year it’s the same but still, I can’t believe I get to do this every Christmas with you,” the woman said and you looked towards her, only to find her staring at you with a wide smile. “I know it’s selfish, given why you’re not with your family, but I’m so happy I met you… someone who understands the— THERE HE IS!” she shrieked as the both of you looked at the screen just as Alan appeared on screen dressed in a frock coat version of Disney’s Frollo. He was absolutely stunning and warmth churned within you while the hurt and pain stabbed at your heart.

“Fuck me, he’s perfection,” she said and sighed happily while positively ogling the screen. It made you giggle, that spreading warmth taking over more and more while your eyes watered at seeing Alan Rickman in something new, something perfect, something dark and perfectly suited for his portrayal. “What you giggling for? You’re a bigger simp than me,” she laughed and threw a pillow at you. You caught it just in time.

“You know, having you is like the best gift from the world, ever.” Her words were sincere but spoken in a passing manner as she reached for a snack from the table. As if it was something obvious, something she said often, something you were already supposed to know. I’m lucky in this universe, you thought as you hugged the pillow. “You okay?” she asked while your eyes got hooked by the TV, showing Alan walking through a giant church while choir music began to play softly. “I’m-, no sure,” you confessed. Not knowing what to say. You were all over the place and the feelings of real life mixed with those of the other you. “Are you already imagining the scene where he burns her? You’re like an hour ahead in the movie!” HE BURNS HER?!

Your head whipped around, the image of Deepika as Esmeralda burning on the stake filling your head. “Why are you looking at me like you didn’t know? We’ve watched this like twenty times, and for the past five years on Christmas. You’re so emotionally invested it’s almost scary,” she laughed. “God, I’m gonna have to hold you through your bawling this year too when he takes his own life, aren’t I?” she asked and your mouth plopped open in horror.

Alan’s death roared in your veins, the loss of him filling you to the brim as he began to sing on screen. You were instantly entranced as he sang about righteousness and civility, about being in God’s eye and under his command. His baritone voice was perfect, the music effortlessly consuming, and the look of severity he held his features to was absolute perfection. He was made to play Judge Frollo. And I won’t witness it all, I’ll never have that, never ever… The thought was stark and hurt something fiercely as you watched the movie unfold before you.

Tears wetted your cheeks, your teeth biting down on your lower lip. You wanted to bawl, wanted to scream and shout how unfair it was that you’d never have the life of the universe you were visiting. But I knew, deep down I knew you loved the glimpse of the world where he was alive and well. I knew it was painful, knew it would torture you, but also give you a small relief — seeing him again, fulfilling your wish even if it could never truly be granted fully. Death was permanent. No amount of magic could ever undo it.

“He’s so beautiful,” you whispered as the song came to its crescendo. “Perfection,” the woman next to you whispered as you were both enthralled. “I can’t wait to see him in Death’s Judge next year, gosh, he’s going to be perfect… Even if it won’t be many scenes. You know, given it’s the history of him. I bet they’ll only have a few scenes at the end tying it in with Sweeney Todd. But I’m glad it’s Tim Burton doing the movie, I just know he’ll make it perfect and we already have tickets for the première.” We do? I’ll— No, I won’t… Fuck, I hope you know how lucky you are in this universe, you thought as you clutched the pillow even harder.

You blinked, your eyes widening as the dancing Deepika entered the scene, her depiction of Esmeralda pure perfection. You gasped as the scene switched, showing Alan anew, showing Frollo gasping at the view of the dancing beauty — him falling in love at first sight. It was beautiful acting, perfection as always. The story was different from the original one, not a real retelling but an adaptation.

You snivelled and a warm hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you swiftly toward the woman whose name you didn’t know. But in her arms you felt comfort. “You’re such a baby, love,” she whispered and kissed the top of your head with the sound of a smile in her voice. Your whole heart fluttered and hammered but it wasn’t truly your emotions. It was false yet true, confusing yet so absolutely clear.

You sank deeper into her, relaxing in her embrace as you watched Paris In Flames and Lust unfold, nearly forgetting for a moment it would all be ripped away from you, not remembering that the words spoken through the speakers would never ever be hard again for you.

The second string around your wrist began to glow and you jolted, bolting upright as reality sank its shiny claws into you. No, no, no, not yet! “What’s the matter? You’ve never reacted to this scene before? Don’t tell me you’re getting hot for Phoebus too. Come on, we watched one fanedit of him and Frollo and you’re getting all jolted now?” “No, no I-, I have no time,” you exhaled as you wrapped your hand around your wrist, pressing the strings into your skin while you tried to burn the image of Alan as Frollo into the very fibres of your brain. “No time? We have all the time in the world, what are you on about?” “I—” Can’t tell you… Fuck, I don’t want to leave. This feels so right. “You’re acting weirder than usual, I love your weirdness but—”

The world began to spin around you. The TV blurred and the hands grabbing your shoulders were barely there. You couldn’t focus your eyes on her when the whole room looked as if it were breaking down, piece by piece. No, no, no, not yet! I need more time! This feels perfect, I-, I need more time! Plex! Give me more—

All air left your lungs as the hands holding your shoulders fully disappeared, you were falling upwards, your limbs being tugged in different directions while your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. The sound of Alan singing about love killing him came and went in waves as darkness pushed and pulled at you. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see but you felt it all.

I watched as all the souls of you in a multitude of universes passed through you. Every life of yours that wasn’t truly yours exploded in an array of sensations, burying you like a tidal wave. I used every ounce of magic I had left to protect you from the sensations — but it was a common occurrence. Travelling through universes meant passing others by and souls all across the multiverse in its endlessness were connected.

You left my sight as the darkness opened up and swallowed you whole. You were back where you belonged and my power depleted, my magic consumed. “Good luck, darling,” I whispered to the darkness as I was pulled downward uncomfortably and cast back into my own realm.

≪⁕≫

You gasped for breath, splayed out on the floor in your own home, while everything hurt like hell. Your entire body ached and for a moment it felt as if you were too full. Images flashed in your mind of things you knew you had never actually seen. What was that? You wondered as you sat yourself up.

Everything came rushing back in one swoop. The universe you had visited, the things you’d seen and felt, the love another human had for you, the life of Alan, the new views and sounds you’d been granted.

You cried. Cried and wailed as you shook on the floor, holding on to the memories. It felt like dancing over a minefield, as if any second it all could be ripped to shreds. Taken from you. But it had been real. The string around your wrist was more than enough proof as the third string, from the last star of last year, glowed in pulses. The wonder of that other world still lingered, the hurt and joy as palpable as the floor beneath you.

The realness of it, unlike last year’s adventure, made it hurt even more than the loss you’d felt back then. Last year it had all been surreal, fictional. This was real. There was a world out there where you were loved deeply, accepted fully by someone who understood and he was not only alive but healthy and happy. There were words he’d never spoken in your world, characters he’d portrayed that you’d never know about, movies he’d starred in that you’d never see.

Sitting there, among the remnants of memories, made you feel beyond hollow. Abandoned and alone. There was no more of him in your world. But I got this one hour… I-, I got these memories that aren’t ever going to last, you thought while you drew a shuddering breath and wished with all your being you could have been the you back in that world.

Little sizzling sensations erupted over your skin, everywhere clothes didn’t cover it, and you looked up. Little sparkles floated down from the ceiling in a glittery rain and dissipated as soon as they made contact with something. You looked around through the haze of tears while your lips trembled.

The sparkles began to fall upwards when they made contact with something, becoming a dense mass in the centre. A glittery ball twisting in on itself. “What in the—” your words were interrupted as words began to form midair.

In this world, he’s gone. In this time there is no more of him. Even if it hurts, do not foolishly wish for another life when yours is so precious. The world you just visited may appear as a form of heaven. But did you not see? Your undying love of Snape did not exist. The fanart you adore was nowhere to be found, because in that world you never joined the community. You never went online and found the friends you now have. You never met all the people you love, who love you.

There may be things you wish were different in life, there may be things you hate and writhe in pain over. But do not let the bad overshadow the good. There are things you have done — caused — that you cannot see. How you saved her, how you made him feel seen, how you made them smile — and you’ll never know it. Just like they do not know the way that fanfiction made you feel validated, how that fanart spurred you to confess to yourself you enjoyed a controversial ship, how that fanedit made you bawl your eyes out as you realised you were not alone in your fancasting… Think of all the things you’ve felt thanks to others without letting them know, do you not think it’s the same the other way around, darling?

Do not wish for another life because of something you have no control over. Change the things you can, and evolve in a manner that makes you happier. Have care in your heart for yourself and do not dismiss the good of this life in times of hardship and pain. Do not dismiss your importance in this world even when it hurts you. There is only this life, and it’s yours for the taking. So live it, love it, accept what you cannot change but do your best to be part of the bettering of this world even when you cannot see the difference you yourself make. The only thing permanent in your life, is you. But that does not mean you cannot have a permanent effect on someone else, just like Alan has had on you…

Thank you for changing the world with your existence. Yours through the multiverse, Plex

You exhaled a deep, shuddering breath as the sparkles burst into a display not unlike fireworks before all of it disappeared in a soundless burst. You snivelled and wiped at your cheeks. This is nothing like last time, you thought while you hugged yourself. The remnants of the love you’d felt in the other universe slowly dissipated. Quietly turned to nothing.

You squeezed the fabric over your chest, tried to inhale deeply as you lost the sensation of your other self in that other world. You waited for the loneliness to come, for the hurt and sense of loss to take over. But the sparkling words were etched in your mind. You couldn’t ignore them. The feeling you waited for didn’t take hold. Somehow, you felt warm. Despite being alone, despite being the same you as before, despite having seen what could have been that would never exist in your world. You had something else in this world. You meant something else in this world. But you meant something, were someone, as others here were to you. And that was more than enough for a smile to stretch your lips…

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

A/N: Thank you for still being here, I hope this story was worth the wait for you, darling. Please, do leave a comment and share your thoughts if you wish — I adore every comment I receive and appreciate your investment in my writing ❤

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[May:2023]

#rickmas2022 #rickmas #alan rickman #rickmaniac #snapedom #fanfic #reader insert #pro snape #judge frollo #deepperplexity #deepperplexity fic

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