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diaphragmjellyfish · 4 years ago

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You Just Wait

gif is from @twilightofficial

A/N: The hardest part of writing a fic is honestly choosing the love interest XD I have so many fictional boyfriends it’s hard to choose just one. I have noticed a significant lack of Jared Cameron content and he’s super adorable so here it is! Also, I left the concept a little bit more vague so more people can relate to it. It doesn’t specifically say vaginismus, it’s more of a general “sex doesn’t normally go well for me” type thing.

Bottomless, covered in chocolate sauce, walking through the woods, phone dead, in the middle of August on a weekday. How did you end up here? Jared Cameron. Your boyfriend. He had roped you in to an elaborate prank on Paul that hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Needless to say, you were desperate for a shower and a nap. A hot meal wouldn’t hurt. And you were beyond irritated, not even looking Jared’s way as he walked next to you in a similar state.

“Babe, if you let me carry you, we’ll get home way faster,” he whined.

You didn’t respond, only walking with more frustration around the roots and fallen trees. It was growing dark, just about twilight, and you knew you wouldn’t be reaching either of your houses at this rate. You were miles into the forest. But your pride kept you from accepting Jared’s wolfy-back ride, because he tended to make lots of jokes about being between your legs and you riding him and blah blah blah, and you honestly might punch him right now if he did that.

So you just kept ignoring him, arms folded tightly against your chest because, yes, it was August, but this was also the Washington coast. It got pretty chilly no matter what time of year it was.

“I can see you shivering from here,” he pleaded, almost sounding in pain at the thought of you being uncomfortable. “It’s only gonna get colder. Let me help you.”

You ignored him.

“C’mooonnnnnn,” he cried. His preferred way of cracking your silence was usually by annoying you out of it, and it was working. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon c’m-”

“Jared, I swear to God!”

“Aha! She speaks!” he laughed.

“”Only to tell you to be quiet, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” he cut you off. “I’m way stronger than you!” He was teasing you into talking to him. Even if it was in the form of arguing. Damn, he always got you to crack. You stopped walking, turning to face him, arms still held tightly around yourself. You couldn’t resist a good bicker, and Jared knew that. He would get the sass to come out, and then once you got tired, he’d apologize and you’d be made up within half an hour. That’s what always happened. And you couldn’t exactly stay mad at those big brown puppy eyes for long.

“Physically, maybe,” you chided, “but I’m definitely way smarter than you.”

He stepped closer to you, a playful smirk on his face. “What, are you gonna read me to death or something?”

“I’m gonna strategize a huge plan, manipulate you, and leave you here in the forest by yourself. That’s what I’m gonna do,” you sassed. He never took arguments to heart, which is one thing you loved about him. He knew how grumpy you could get and would let you vent, and then make you forget all about the problem.

“Oh, okay, yeah sure,” he giggled, hands going up in defense. “I’m just saying that in this situation, there is no way you come out on top. You run, I catch you. You hide, I sniff you out,” he teased. This made you crack an almost imperceptible smile, but one he noticed nonetheless. “And if you did somehow manage to get away from me, you’d freeze to death in an hour flat.” The cold breeze that caused you to shiver more violently could not have had worse timing. Obviously, Jared noticed, and his face dropped. He approached you slowly, silently asking if you were still mad enough to not let him touch you. When you didn’t step back or stop him, he wrapped both his arms around you and brought you into a huge bear hug. You sighed at his warmth, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He’d given you his hoodie hours ago, and was left in only a pair of shorts, though he didn’t seem to notice. Damn him and his werewolf heat.

You still shivered in his arms, but his feverish temperature was a relief to your aching bones.

“See? Could’ve been warm hours ago,” he teased once again, noting your clinginess.

“Shut up. I’m still mad,” you mumbled into his neck. He laughed softly to himself, rubbing his hands up and down your body to create more heat. After a few minutes, you were starting to struggle to keep your eyes open. It had to be close to 2 in the morning, and you’d been walking for what felt like hours. Jared could have easily run home and let you brood alone, but he stuck with you no matter how long you went without speaking to him.

“Sleepy?” he murmured into your hair. You just nodded softly, and didn’t protest as he bent down, one hand going behind your knees and the other staying around your back. He picked you up with ease and started walking through the woods once more with an “Okay Princess, I got you.” His stride never faltered, easily avoiding tripping over roots or slipping on rain-soaked moss. He must have been walking for about 30 minutes, never so much as breathing hard or shifting you in his grip. You didn’t sleep, but welcomed the rest he allowed you. Your eyes were closed, head resting on his shoulder when you felt him stop. You looked up, and in the distance, maybe 50 yards away, you saw a small building.

“Hunter’s cabin, I’m guessing. No one’s home,” Jared stated, anticipating your questions.

“Think there’ll be blankets?” you wondered, tired, yet still playful.

“What, am I not enough for you?” he feigned mock hurt as you giggled at his unshakeable good attitude. Without another word, he began walking towards the small cabin, which was about the size of an average bedroom. When you reached the door, he set you down gently, holding his hands close to your waist while you found your footing, and then wrapping an arm over your shoulders to keep you warm.

“I’m assuming it’s locked,” you sighed, disappointed.

“Babe, no door is locked when you have super strength. Honestly, I thought you’d have more faith in me by now,” he smiled brightly.

“You can’t just go around kicking random people’s doors in!” you scolded.

“Okay, first of all, I can tell by the smell that no one’s been here in years. Second of all, how would anyone know it was us that broke in and not, like, a deer? And third of all, I’d say this counts as an emergency,” he sassed right back at you. You looked at him in annoyance, too tired and cold to actually care.

After a long sigh, you muttered “fine.”

He immediately turned to the door, not letting you so much as inhale before he slammed his foot into the space next to the knob, the door all but flying off its hinges. The whole scene caused deafening noise that interrupted the silence of the trees.

“Jesus!” you called out in surprise, a hand shooting up to your pounding heart. You look around, though knowing no one was around for miles. Jared only turned to look at you, a cheeky smile adorning his face, and said,

“See? Told ya.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the loving and admiring energy that overcame you. Jared really was one in a million, and you were lucky to be by his side. He could be in the worst situation in the world and still find something to laugh about.

He motioned for you to go in first, ever the gentleman. Walking through the door, the first thing you noticed was the dust. The entire inside of the cabin was covered in a thick layer of it. There was a small, rickety couch with cushions so worn they had holes in them throughout. And the fabric… my God. It looked like something from the 60’s, an obnoxious floral that had faded over time, and now just looked flat out stained. There was a flimsy throw blanket over the back of the couch, a cooler in the corner of the room that was covered in dirt, and on the opposite wall, a fireplace! No wood, no matches, but it was there. The floor was scattered with bullet shells, receipts, and decayed leaves. It was obvious no one had been in here for at least 3 or 4 years.

“Okay, I can work with this,” Jared said. You really were jealous of his optimism. But, as disgusting as this place was, it beat the frigid breeze of outside, and had a place where you could rest your heads. You walked over to the couch, grabbing the blanket and beating the dust off of it. It was really only meant for one person, but you guys were okay with getting close. It would do.

Jared walked over to the opposite corner where the cooler sat by the fireplace and opened the lid, peeking inside.

“Just water,” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

“Were you really gonna eat whatever was in there?” you spoke incredulously.

“Babe, I’m starving. You have no idea how close I am to licking that chocolate sauce off of you,” he voiced. You had almost forgotten about the sticky sauce that covered both of your clothes. That prank really was a disaster. You looked down, face heating at the thought of Jared’s mouth on you like that, and turned to the fireplace where he stood. He was looking on the mantle, oblivious to the effect his comment had on you, and exclaimed “Aha!” before reaching up to grab something. “A lighter. We’re saved! Well, you are,” he laughed looking over at your shivering form once more. “Stay here and get comfy. I’m gonna go get some wood.”

You tried your best, sitting on the edge of the couch and immediately feeling a spring poking you in the butt. The couch really was tiny. You guys were gonna have to bundle up close to fit. The thought excited you. Sure, you and Jared had always been comfortable touching and holding each other, but there were certain areas of your relationship you had yet to explore. More… intimate areas. It was your fault mostly. To make a long story short, you’ve just never enjoyed sex. You found yourself not able to get aroused, which made things painful. Sure, you wanted to. You’d thought about it a ton. But in the moment, your head was so full of thoughts of ‘What if he thinks I’m ugly? What if I smell? Am I doing this right? Is he having a good time? Am I taking too long?’ that you just stopped trying. And obviously you wanted to have sex with Jared, but you were worried he’d be disappointed. By the time he got back, just a few minutes later, you had brought your knees up to your chest, holding your legs close in an effort to preserve warmth.

“Doing okay Sweetheart?” he asked gently. You gave a small smile and nodded in response. He plopped the logs in his arms down into the fireplace, scavenging the floor for receipts, dried leaves, anything that would catch fire. He dumped these into the fireplace and lit them, the fire catching within seconds. He walked over to the other side of the room where the couch was before bending down, grabbing the bottom lip of it, and pulling it (and you) across the floor, one-handed, and closer to the fire. “Better?” You had always been in awe of his strength. Let’s be honest, it was just plain sexy. Again, you just nodded your head, staring at him in adoration.

He sat beside you on the couch, throwing an arm over your shoulders again, and leaning back, taking you with him. You cuddled into his side, watching the fire.

“Ya know, if you take away the shitty couch and sticky clothes and add a few more blankets, this would actually be pretty nice,” he finally spoke.

You laughed softly, replying, “It would. The couch isn’t even awful, but these clothes are really ruining the mood for me.”

“Well why don’t you get out of ‘em, hot stuff?” he joked. You knew he wasn’t serious because you guys haven’t gotten that far yet, but something, maybe the exhaustion or the way he kept challenging you today, made you want to actually do it. Before you could lose your nerve, you reached down, pulling off the hoodie and shirt in one go and tossing them onto the floor. You relaxed back into his arms in just a bra, acting like nothing had happened. He was frozen beside you. Maybe it was mean, but you wanted to tease him a little. He’d put you through a lot today, so you wanted to mess with him a tiny bit. So, coolly, you brought a hand onto his thigh and began running it up and down, going higher and higher with each pass. He was still frozen, so you gave a light squeeze, and heard him inhale sharply, though he tried to hide it.

“I thought you were tired,” he commented.

“Guess I’m not anymore,” you responded, turning to face him boldly. He immediately leaned in to kiss you, softly as always. You reciprocated, bringing your other hand up to cup his face. His arm that was around your shoulders slipped down around your waist, pulling you in further. Jared had always been gentle when kissing you, so you knew you’d have to make the first move to deepen it. Which is exactly what you did. Running your hand up his head and grabbing his hair, you pulled him towards you even more and traced your tongue across his bottom lip. He responded by matching your energy, tongue slipping out to caress yours before bringing your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling softly. You guys had never kissed like this before. You felt a bead of warmth pool in your abdomen, something you’d never felt with a guy before. Sure, you’d been turned on while watching certain videos or reading certain fanfiction by yourself, but you’d never actually experienced it with someone before. It was exciting. Maybe it was the knowledge that you could stop things at any time and he wouldn’t be upset, or maybe it was how in love with you he really was, but you didn’t feel nervous or worried. You felt comfortable.

Taking things a step further, you swung your leg over both of his, moving to straddle his lap.

He pulled away slightly at this, making you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he responded, “I just don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You smiled, “I’m not doing anything I don’t wanna do. Are you?”

“Are you seriously asking me that question right now?” He laughed, making you giggle along.

You leaned back in for another kiss, when he stopped you again. “What exactly… are we doing, though?” You knew what he was silently asking. Are we about to go all the way? And you didn’t know yet. This had started out as playful teasing, but now you were beginning to think that maybe you did want to try something. With Jared. He was it for you, the one you wanted to spend forever with. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. And he’d taken such good care of you these last few hours, keeping you warm, making sure you were storming off in the right direction, that you knew he’d appreciate you in a more intimate sense.

“I- I kind of would like to try… some stuff,” you answered.

He looked at you, eyes wide, before answering, “What kind of stuff? I mean, I will do literally anything you ask me to do and you know that, but I didn’t really prepare for this. Like, I don’t… have what we need.” Oh, a condom. What a responsible boy.

“I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too quickly before looking down and fiddling with your hands. “If you want to.”

“Y/N, I would be absolutely fucking honored,” he breathed, before cupping your face and pulling you into the most heated kiss yet. Your tongues danced, hands wandering. Yours, across his muscled chest and abdomen, and his, down your waist and around to cup your pantsless ass, squeezing firmly. It felt nice. He handled you in a way that was gentle and painless, but still dominant and firm. And it made the heat in your belly grow. You continued kissing for several minutes, your hands moving up his neck and eventually landing in his hair once more, and his remaining on your ass and waist. You softly sucked at his lower lip, nibbling slightly, and it made him let out a low growl and pull your hips forward onto his, where you felt something hard push against you. You knew what it was, and it didn’t scare you like it normally would. You did, however, feel your damp underwear. Shit, that’s never happened before. You were normally bone dry at this point. You let out a soft sigh, grinding your hips onto him once more.

He softened his kisses slightly, bringing a hand around to your stomach and running his knuckles lightly across your lower abdomen.

“Can I?” He questioned delicately.

“Yes,” you replied almost immediately. He brought his hand under the waistband of your underwear, when you said, “Wait,” and he stopped. “Just one thing. I kind of… have never been able to do this without it hurting a lot, so maybe you could just try to be gentle?”

“Oh, baby, you’ve been in pain before? I’m so sorry,” he whispered genuinely.

“It’s okay, I just…” It was now or never. He should know. “Normally I’m super nervous about everything, so I can’t really… get into it, and when girls aren’t into it it’s kind of… dry? And that makes it kind of hurt really bad.” You faded out at the end, feeling embarrassed. He brought his hand out of your underwear and up to your chin, tilting your face up to look him in the eye, looking concerned. “But I’m into this, I mean, right now. I’m excited. I just thought I should warn you,” you awkwardly laughed at the end.

“You promise? Because you know that if you want to stop we will, and I would never be upset or pressure or anything like that,” he spoke sweetly, making your heart flutter. And you did know that, which is why you felt comfortable. Every other time, you felt that if you went past a certain point, you couldn’t say stop. Couldn’t call it off without making whatever guy you were with super mad and then… who knows what would happen. But when Jared spoke those words, you believed him.

“I promise. And I know you’ll stop. But I don’t want you to.”

With this, he scanned your face one more time for any signs of hesitation, and when he found none, brought you down into another heated kiss. You felt his hand trail from your chin down to your breasts, skimming over your bra, down your stomach and once again to the waistband of your underwear. Only this time he didn’t go under. He stayed on top of the fabric and brought his hand down between your legs, index finger brushing lightly against your core. You barely felt it, and began to worry that you’d once again feel numb. Oftentimes, when guys would touch you or go down on you, you felt nothing. It was like you were broken or something. And you started to become concerned that tonight would be no different.

But he brought his finger down again, repeating the same movement, only with significantly more pressure this time, and it had you release an involuntary sigh. And instead of removing his finger like he had the first time, he kept it over your clit, drawing firm circles.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, Jared staring intently at your face.

“Oh, wow,” you finally breathed.

“Good?” he asked cockily, wearing a large smirk. He repeated the movement again, drawing a line from your core to your clit, stopping to rub circles.

“Mmm hmm,” you sighed. He leaned in once more to meet you with the sloppiest, dirtiest kiss you two had shared yet, and it only made you grind your center into his hand. He repeated the action several times over, and you were a writhing mess in minutes.

He brought a finger under your waistband once more, stretching the elastic out before letting it snap lightly against your skin. “Let’s take these off, hmm?” You’d never stood up so fast in your life, practically ripping the panties off of you, taking your bra off with it. Jared stood up to remove his shorts, but stopped to stare.

“What?” you questioned shyly, moving to cover up.

“You’re literally the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

The boy quite literally had heart eyes for you.

“Oh,” you responded meekly, cheeks heating up. When you kept looking back at him, he seemed to snap back into the moment and hurriedly ripped off his shorts and underwear, sitting back on the couch and opening his arms for you. You moved to straddle his hips the same way as before, and he brought his arms around to embrace you as you shared another heated kiss. One of his hands moved up to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple as if you were made of glass. Jared pulled his mouth off of yours and trailed his lips down the side of your face, to your jaw, and down onto your neck, suckling lightly and leaving wet kisses. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, and brought one of your hands down between you two to grasp him. He shuddered, only grabbing your hips and bringing you impossibly closer. His other hand trailed down to your center once more, going straight to your core and gathering the slight wetness there before bringing his finger up to your clit and circling. With your underwear out of the way, you felt almost lightheaded at his touch. You never knew how girls could cum during sex before, because you never seemed to feel much at all unless it was pain, but with how aroused you were right now and Jared’s movements, you thought for the first time that you may actually be able to finish. People do say that 90% of sex is mental, and you guessed this is what they meant. The more into it you are, the more physical sensation you actually feel. Groundbreaking.

“Can I finger you?” he murmured huskily into your neck.

You tensed slightly at this, but trusted him. If you said stop, he would. “Ok, just go slow.”

“Of course,” he responded before placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder and bringing his index finger back to your core, swirling around the entrance a few times. You took a few deep breaths to relax your muscles, and he looked at you, wordlessly asking, Ready? You nodded, and he slipped his finger in, just to the first knuckle, and held it still while he brought his thumb to your clit and continued rubbing. When he noticed you visibly relax, he slipped his finger in further to the second knuckle, stopping for a few seconds, and then all the way. He kept it here again, giving you time to adjust or tell him to stop, all the while keeping you stimulated with his thumb. It felt really good. Well, you didn’t exactly feel his finger at all, which was better than pain, and his thumb was making you crazy. Your breathing was labored at this point, eyebrows furrowed as you held onto his shoulders, nails digging in and sure to leave scratches. He pressed the finger inside of you onto your front wall suddenly, massaging the ridges firmly, and you let out a moan. Your first real moan ever. And damn did it get Jared excited. He continued this motion again and again, building in intensity and pressure slowly. When he felt how wet you had become, he pulled his finger back out to the first knuckle, and added his middle finger next to it, sliding them both back in slowly so as not to hurt you. Your eyes widened at the stretch, but it didn’t hurt. It felt amazing.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, before moaning once more as his fingers began the ��come-hither’ motion once more.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, concerned at your cursing.

“No, feels so good,” you moaned, and he smiled at this, increasing the pressure even more. Your eyes screwed shut, hips stuttering over his hand, letting him finger fuck you for several more minutes as you began to feel a tightening in your stomach. He brought his thumb off of your clit finally, adjusting his hand for a better angle and bringing his other hand off of your waist and up to his mouth, licking his thumb and bringing that down to your clit, resuming the tight circles. You could hear how wet you were, feeling too good to be embarrassed. The heat in your stomach was building, spreading. You felt your legs begin to shake, muscles begin to tighten around his fingers, and your eyes screwed shut as you opened your mouth in a silent scream and came. The waves of pleasure washed over you for a long time, Jared slowing his movements down so as not to overstimulate you. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were panting, legs feeling like Jello. Jared was staring at you with a look of absolute awe on his face, mouth agape and dick rock hard, red, and leaking precum. He was more turned on than he had ever been from actual sex before, and it was only from watching you.

“Fuck, baby that was so hot,” he all but moaned.

You reached down to grasp him, panting a “your turn.”

He grabbed both your wrists, stopping you. “Nuh uh, this is about you. Lie the fuck down.”

You gasped, his dominant tone turning you on despite your recent climax. You both knew that if you were even slightly uncomfortable, things would stop immediately. But it was fun for both of you to let him be a little aggressive. You did as told, lying long ways across the couch cushions, Jared moving to kneel between your legs, moving your knees softly apart so he could look at all of you. You didn’t feel insecure being exposed like this. You felt excited.

“Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this?” he questioned.

“I have never been more sure, Jared baby, I want to,” you pleaded. This was enough for him, so he brought his dick down to line up with your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down a few times to collect your wetness. He was worried that there wouldn’t be enough lubricant, so he brought a hand up to his mouth and spit, rubbing the saliva on his cock.

“You just wait ‘til we get some real lube and a real fucking bed, Princess. You won’t be able to walk for days.” You shuddered at the thought of this, and of the sensation of his dick rubbing around your clit and back down to your entrance. He pushed in slightly, letting the tip in before pausing and checking your face for any signs of pain. When he found none, he pushed in slightly more, and more. He was being extremely slow, and you appreciated it. Guys normally would just shove themselves inside, not giving you any time to adjust before pounding away. But Jared was careful, despite how turned on you knew he was. He still had your best interest in mind. Within a couple of minutes, he was fully seated inside of you, staying still until you told him to move. He brought his face down to give you a sweet kiss, waiting for you to give him the signal.

After a few seconds, you didn’t feel any sort of stinging or pain, so you nodded, saying “Just start slow.”

“Of course,” he replied genuinely. He pulled his hips back just a few inches, before slowly grinding them back into yours. You closed your eyes, focusing on keeping your muscles loose and relaxed as he continues this movement a few more times. The next time he pushed in, he ground his hips further into yours, hitting the deepest parts of you. This had you release a gasp, eyes opening to meet his. “Okay?” he questioned.

“Yes.”

He did this several more times, letting you get used to the feeling of him being so deep inside of you, before your hips began to grind back into his. It felt really good. When he noticed this, he began pulling his hips back more, pushing back in slightly faster, and this had you moaning. You threw your head back, back arched, just enjoying the sensations. Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, definitely leaving scratch marks.

“Oh my God,” you whispered.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he responded, planting sloppy kisses to your neck and collar bone. “Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smiled at this, glad he was enjoying it as much as you were. “Go ahead, cum for me,” you spoke, and your words had him right on the edge. He pulled out of you quickly, hand fisting his cock as he stared at your sweaty, writhing body below him. He came hard, spilling onto your stomach as he growled out, the sound making your toes curl, almost animalistic. You both remained in this position as you came down, breaths labored and eyes barely open. He stood up fully off of the couch and reached for the flimsy blanket on the floor, using it to wipe off your stomach. He threw it into the corner of the room and lay down next to you on the couch, gathering you up into his arms to cuddle.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked almost nervously after a few minutes.

“Nah, kinda sucked,” you teased, and he let out a playful laugh, lightly shoving you away before pulling you back and planting a kiss on your temple.

A pause. “For real though,” he prodded, beginning to panic slightly.

You burst out laughing. “Of course I had a good time, Jared. Best i’ve ever had, if I’m being honest.”

“Ok good,” he sighed, relieved but trying not to show that you actually had him nervous for a second.

Another pause. “Did… did you have a good time?” you questioned back at him.

He seemed almost offended at the question, bringing a hand up to cup your face so that your eyes met his. “Y/N, this was the best night of my entire life. That was perfect. You are perfect. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to do that with you.”

You felt your eyes sting slightly, emotions running wild. You considered yourself the luckiest girl in the world to be with Jared Cameron. Not only was he totally gorgeous, but kind, hilarious, and great in bed.

In an effort to switch the tone back to a more playful one, you replied, “Yeah, well I was promised some more fun involving real lube and a real bed so…”

He tugged you further into him, wrapping his arms around you in a way that made you think he might never let go. He laughed, and said “Oh, you just wait.”

#jared cameron x reader #jared cameron #twilight #wolf pack #paul lahote #sam uley #jacob black #embry call #seth clearwater #quil ateara #edward cullen #twilight smut #vaginismus

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platypanthewriter · 4 years ago

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The Tanning Rock

Harringrove April prompt 28, Tanning--Creatures!AU (This one grew to nearly 6k and I’m so sorry) @wasting-time-again HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, HAVE A MERMAN! XD

The lawyer who summoned Billy—about an inheritance, he said—was...weird. Straight out of a movie, with long incisors and a cravat, and he steepled his fingers as he talked.

Max said he was probably actually a vampire, and Billy agreed—which was weird, because as far as Billy knew, his mom’s family wasn’t exactly old money, and it was hard to imagine a vampire getting on a plane to fly clear to California and summoning him to a crypt full of file cabinets, all just to read a will about his mom’s collection of surfing stickers and pile of old National Geographics.

Billy knew his father had disowned him, so he bit his lips together, waiting to hear that his mother had died.

“I am here about the estate of your grandmother,” said the vampire lawyer, and Billy drew a shaky breath of relief. “Your mother was disowned—” he said, and Billy almost snorted a laugh—like mother, like son, he thought, “—and so her domicile has passed to you.”

“Wait, what,” Billy breathed, wide-eyed.

“It is an unusual case,” said the lawyer—Fangun and Stayk, est. 986, read his card, but Billy wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to Fangun or Stayk, or whether the whole thing was a joke yet, so he kept his mouth shut. “You will take ownership of the house and land, however, you may not live there—that is, not year-round, not unless you are given an invitation by a resident. It is a closed community.”

“...can I sell it?” Billy asked, and the deepset eyes of the lawyer stared back at him, bloodshot and dry.

“At well below market value,” he said, steepling his fingers again. They made a dryish noise. “As I said, they dislike outsiders. And a stranger will be even more of an outsider than you, in whom runs...the blood of the place.”

Billy wondered, dully, whether he’d inherited a haunted graveyard, or a den of werewolves, and groaned into his hands. Maybe he was part zombie somehow. Just his luck. “Where is it,” he sighed.

“It is not on commonly available maps,” said the vampire, and Billy nodded. It figured, he thought, though his ears perked up considerably when his grandmother’s lawyer laid out a map of Hawaii.

They got a ride from the shore on a fishing boat at four o’clock in the morning. “It’s barely tourist season yet,” said the fisherwoman, showing Max how to steer. “There will be a ferry, in a week or two, but I can give you two a ride out the day your visa’s up if the ferry quits sooner.”

“We want enough time to look around,” Max said, glancing at Billy. They’d let their lease run out, and sold most of their things, because a few orange crates of records were a small price to pay for never running into Neil Hargrove around town. “You could get a job on one of the normal islands,” Max had suggested, quietly, over and over. “If they don’t like us enough.”

Billy’d never suggested moving Max so far away, but she’d assumed they were going, and after a while he went along with it. It wouldn’t be so bad, he thought, getting a job in a hotel somewhere after the islanders threw him out. Max would probably love it, in Hawaii.

A fresh start, she had said, and it sounded good.

He and Max were greeted by a woman in a wheelchair, who stamped their passports. “Technically, we’re a different country,” she said, smiling. She had very brown skin, and looked contentedly half-asleep in the sun. “You’re the only visitors on the island, for a week or two,” she said, cocking her head. “We’re not always in a big hurry to scrub up the ferry for the summer. We love the money, but the tourists...” she laughed, shaking her head. “Three-month pleasure trip visa. Have a nice summer,” she said, waving them away.

Her benign lack of interest lessened Billy’s initial fears that he’d inherited membership in some rich, yoga-pants-wearing, white Human Superiority cult.

The house was traditional-ish, with a grass roof and walls, big open windows with no glass, only shutters, and a wide shaded veranda all the way around. It looked over a beach with rolling waves, and Billy couldn’t wait to get his board out there.

“I’m gonna look around the house,” Max said. “See if I can find any neighbors. Maybe I can bring them cookies.” She set her jaw, frowning around at their luggage, and the scattered pillows. “Maybe we can buy some furniture somewhere.”

“...we can always just come here for summers,” Billy told her, breathing it in.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have a great time getting a tourism job where you don’t work summers,” Max said, raising a sarcastic eyebrow, and Billy realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that she expected him to figure it out. Find someone who wanted him to stay, here, on the island, at his grandmother’s house.

“I’m no good at making friends, Max,” he reminded her, and she snorted.

“Better get out of my hair, then.” She folded her arms, taking another deep breath of the smell of grass in the sun. After a long moment, she looked back at him again. “...we’ve got a little over three months, Billy.”

He suspected it sounded longer to her.

When he wandered down to the beach, Billy could see someone’s tanned shoulders lying across a jutting rock about fifty feet out, and he paddled a ways towards it on his surfboard, getting the lay of the ocean. There was a rip tide, dark and eerily quiet, to his right, but the rest of the beach had shallow, warm, clear waves over white sand and coral until a dark dropoff about fifty feet out where the rolling waves began.

As he paddled closer to the rock, he could see the man on it—asleep, Billy thought, just lying in the sun as the waves lapped at his skin. As Billy drifted closer, paddling with his hands, he could see a long-fingered hand hanging in the water, and he paddled faster, suddenly wondering whether the man wanted to be out on a rock, or whether he was a Dude In Distress, his leg cramped, needing a ride to the beach on Billy’s surfboard and a trip around the boardwalk, and maybe some shaved ice.

As Billy approached, the guy opened his eyes, frowning over at Billy with wide, half-awake brown eyes. He pushed himself up on the rock with his arms like the goddamn Little Mermaid, Billy thought, amused. His throat went dry watching the flex of muscle, and the water droplets where the dude had lifted himself out of the bay.

Billy paddled at random, a little, unable to tear his eyes away. He cleared his throat. “Just, uh, making sure you didn’t need any help,” he said, staring at the tanned arms and swimmer’s chest in front of him, nearly triangular, like a superhero. “I, um. Guess you’re fine.”

The guy raised his eyebrows, starting to smirk, and then his eyes widened, and Billy realized in a flash of blue and foam that he’d drifted right into the fucking rip tide. Right in front of the gorgeous dude on the rock, Billy thought in the back of his mind, trying to hold onto his surfboard and let the rip tide take him wherever it would. Just his luck, he thought, dying because he was so damn gay he saw nice shoulders and his brain switched off. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to breathe before he got sucked down, and his lungs and sinuses were starting to ache worse than the rest of him, even as he was buffeted around against his board, when an arm slid around his waist.

He wanted to yell at the guy—and he did, in an explosion of bubbles—because what the hell good was it gonna do, swimming into a rip tide, but the muscles against his back and butt flexed, and they were moving sideways out of the rip tide, and then Billy’s head was above water. He gasped and choked, coughing up half the sea. The ocean moved soothingly around them, as this dude had no trouble holding Billy up, and Billy tried to clear his throat and eyes.

“Have you seriously never seen a tail before,” the guy groaned, hauling Billy along like he was no more effort to lift than a little kid at the pool. Billy felt rock against his thigh, suddenly, and scrambled onto it, coughing and wiping his eyes to see he was on the jutting rock the dude must have jumped off of, to save him.

“How-how fucking humiliating,” he gasped out loud. “Can’t believe. C-can’t believe I fucking p-paddled into a rip tide.”

“You drifted back into the...yeah,” his hot rescuer said, still in the water, with one hand on the rock to hold him steady as he frowned at Billy. His voice sounded a little odd—Billy was reminded of the Chinese grocery by his house, where their English was perfect, but they had a lilt as they tried to speak an atonal language with a tonal ear. Up close, he was even prettier, with moles Billy wanted to track down his neck and shoulders, and a doubtful, scrunched-up mouth Billy wanted to kiss.

“Sorry,” Billy wheezed, still coughing. “Sorry, I’m such a moron, sorry.” He tried to keep his eyes above the water level, but some part of his brain kept looking for tanned legs kicking under the surface, and he suddenly registered that the moving colors weren’t just fish and anemones. “Holy shit,” he coughed out. “You have a tail.”

His rescuer frowned harder, probably worried Billy had brain damage. “I figured that’s why you swam into the rip tide,” he said slowly, and Billy shook his head, groaning.

“No—fuck, I’m sorry, you—you’re just hot as fuck, I’m just a moron, I’m—damn it,” he sighed. “Sorry, jesus, I’m so fucking rude, sorry, I just didn’t notice, I was like ‘How the hell did he get me out of there? OH!’, sorry,” he muttered, sighing. “...drown me.”

“I am though, right,” the merman said, grinning, “—hotter than you,” and Billy realized he’d found the only person on the island more annoying than he was.

“Yeah, yeah, just laugh at the poor gay moron who nearly drowned staring at you, that’s nice,” he huffed, lying back against the warm rock to catch his breath.

“Was it love at first sight?” asked his rescuer, and Billy opened his eyes to glare.

“Shut up, asshole,” he grunted.

“Just asking,” his tormenter asked. “Are you gonna pine away, sighing over me? Hey, d’you think you’ll always do that? If I swim over in town, you think you’ll fall off the boardwalk?”

“Fuck you,” Billy told him, leaning his face in his arms and laughing. “Yeah, probably, you shithead. Are you gonna...follow me around? So I can look like more of an idiot?”

“Mmm, can you though…” the gorgeous merman asked thoughtfully, and Billy growled into his arms, feeling his whole body warm. He blamed it on the sun. “Why,” his rescuer asked, pulling himself up to laugh against Billy’s ear. “—you want me to follow you someplace?”

“Oh my god,” Billy groaned, laughing harder. “Are you afraid to leave me alone now? What if I try and eat my surfboard?”

“...are you gonna?”

“Maybe?!” Billy told him, then pushed himself up, frowning around to look for it.

“I’ve got it, it’s right here,” the smug asshole told him, waggling the surfboard in the water. “Want me to take you back to shore?”

“No!” Billy laughed, sighing. “I’m going surfing, just because I nearly died making an ass of myself doesn’t mean—”

“Hrm, maybe I should keep an eye on you.”

“Why,” Billy asked, then pitched his voice just a little lower. “You like what you see?”

“I could get used to it,” the merman said, and Billy started to preen, but the dickhead finished with “—kind of a comedy special, kind of thing,” and Billy reached over and smacked a big splash of water at him.

He laughed, his throat arching back, the gills along it thin dark lines that Billy fantasized kissing around.

Just as Billy was considering grabbing the surfboard and using it as a weapon of blunt force trauma, the merman leaned in close, his smirk widening around pointed teeth, and his cool, salty lips pressed firmly against Billy’s. Billy made a weird gulping noise in his throat, and the asshole started to pull away, but Billy leaned in, and fell clean off the rock. His weight dunked them both, and they rose sputtering and laughing, Billy held securely in his merman’s arms as his surfboard floated away. He couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“...my name’s Billy,” he panted.

“...Steve,” the mer-dickhead said, raising his eyebrows, like it was weird to want to know his name.

“...I inherited a house here,” Billy told him in a rush, drunk on kisses. “I’m from California. My mom used to talk about this place when I was a kid. Surfing here. With her mom.”

“...is she here?” Steve asked, steadying them with one hand on the rock, and glancing back at the beach.

Billy laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck, sorry, you don’t need to know my shit. We can make out. You’re short-circuiting my brain.”

“...I should probably get your surfboard,” Steve told him, grinning, but he leaned his head in again, gentle with his sharp teeth, and Billy inhaled shakily as the points grazed his lips and tongue.

“Jesus,” he whispered, once he could talk, and then he licked his lips and wrenched himself away to swim after his surfboard, just so his smug rescuer wouldn’t have to fetch it for him. The waves got bigger as he got out to where the trees weren’t acting as a windbreak, and he clambered up on his board, glaring back as Steve wolf-whistled.

When he let the tides pull him back towards the gorgeous merman on the rock, he lost his mind again, telling him his tail looked like a peacock butt, and Steve cracked up, grinning at him.

“...so, neighbor, you have to win someone over enough to invite you to stay,” he said, cocking his head.

“Yup,” Billy told him, pointing up at the house he’d inherited, built into the hill, the old grass vacation cottage blending in with the trees.

“And your method is to tell me I look like bird ass,” Steve continued, and Billy grimaced, waving his hands.

“No! No, I don’t—I know people have to get to know you. Here. I’ll…” he sighed. “I’ll try for a few months and see what happens. If nothing...clicks, maybe I’ll try again next summer,” he said, grimacing, and wondering what Max would do, if they weren’t allowed to stay. Leave, maybe, he thought—she was seventeen, and she could get a job herself.

He ended up teaching Steve to surf, after showing off his best efforts. When he swam back, panting, Steve looked properly impressed, and even more tanned. “Teach me,” he said, and Billy leaned in to kiss him again, nodding.

“That gonna get you to like me enough to let me stay?” Billy asked, and Steve frowned at him, but Billy laughed, and leaned in for another kiss.

“Tomorrow?” Steve had whispered against his lips, and Billy got no sleep at all that night, he just rolled over every couple hours to check the clock, and see that another two minutes had passed.

Steve was fascinating to watch on the board, his tail trailing as he controlled it with his hands around either side, his abs flexing as he held himself in a kind of plank pose with the support of his tail. Billy watched, and realized he was drooling.

“You like me enough to keep me?” he asked that night, teasing, and Steve laughed.

“Ask me again tomorrow.”

Merpeople—or at least, Steve, Billy corrected mentally, realizing he was dealing with a sample size of one—loved bread. Like a cat, Billy thought, watching Steve eye his croissant, or bagel. He started just bringing one every morning for Steve, and some coffee, and it was hilarious watching the fluffy flesh of a croissant dangling between Steve’s shark-like teeth. He waited every morning, and even though Billy wasn’t sure whether Steve was waiting for Billy or the bread he was carrying, he got heart palpitations every time he came down the ramp to the dock, and he could see the little lump of Steve’s head on his folded arms, the rest of him hanging off into the water.

“A few bagels aren’t enough to win me over,” Steve told him, and Billy’s stomach twisted, a little. He wished he hadn’t brought it up, kind of—the knowledge that he might have to leave hurt, like a sore tooth he couldn’t stop worrying at in his mouth. “Maybe more croissants,” Steve said, smiling, and Billy brought him more croissants.

When they’d arrived, they’d discovered the town was filled with mermaid stuff, and at first, Max and Billy had snickered at it, because surely even if there’d been a merperson or two living near a human town once, they’d died decades ago, or they just traded with fishing boats, far out at sea. They hadn’t considered the amount of people in wheelchairs, or the spray bottles close to hand.

When Billy suggested he bring lunch down from town, Steve swam over to haul himself up—his tail flashing in the light—through the bottom of one of the little sheds on the dock. Moments later, he banged the door open, wheeling out in an old rusty wheelchair. He spun it in a circle, waiting for Billy to climb out of the water, and then zipped ahead up the ramp to the path.

“Wait up, jesus,” Billy yelled after him, and Steve laughed, the muscles in his arms mesmerizing as they spun the wheels. He slowed down eventually, panting, enough for Billy to jog and catch up. “...lemme know if you want me to push,” Billy told him, and Steve snorted.

“Touch my chair and die,” he said.

“Fair enough,” Billy said, holding his hands up, and Steve laughed.

“It makes me…” he squinted, thinking. “...seasick…?” he offered, and Billy nodded, trotting along next to him.

“Motion-sick, probably,” he suggested, and Steve mouthed it as he rolled along.

The lady at the shaved ice stand leaned out and folded her arms on the edge of the little window, laughing at Steve. “You know they make those that work!” she called, and he flipped her off. “They don’t have to be electric! They make ‘em that just move smoothly.”

“It’ll just rust in my shed,” Steve told her, shrugging. “It’s fine.” As they waited for their tacos, Steve pulled up to a table, and his rusty, janky wheels kept rolling backwards, until Steve sighed and bent down to stuff some rocks under there.

“My friend Robin and I went in together on a nicer one,” he said, “—but I can’t park it in the shed. This one’s not so bad,” and Billy’s perception of it shifted a bit—maybe it was more like getting stuck with an old beater car occasionally, instead of something Steve needed help with. “...want to wander around, after?” Billy asked. “I haven’t got any souvenirs yet.”

Steve paused, then licked his lips. “Planning your trip home already?”

“...dunno yet,” Billy said, the invitation unspoken between them. It seemed ridiculous to want to stay so badly just because he’d met a pair of gorgeously tanned shoulders and a teasing smile, but it also wasn’t...hard to imagine, lingering on the island to go snorkeling with Steve, and learning about the reefs—he’d absorbed enough for a few semesters of marine biology, he was fairly sure, but told as stories, just off-handed things Steve had seen—and Billy was already wanting a drysuit, so he could go in the fall. Maybe Billy could get a job on a fishing boat, he thought vaguely, or help out in one of the shops.

If Steve would invite him.

Steve had slid his hands under Billy’s swimsuit a few times, pressing him back on their rock, or on the docks, rocking into him as Billy panted and gasped and fell apart under his hands—but he never said anything, after, and Billy hesitated to ask whether it was...anything, to Steve. Maybe he picks an idiot every summer, he thought, watching Steve smile at the depictions of mermaids on every surface of every shop on the main street.

“You all spend so much time keeping everything dry and dead,” he said, grinning over at Billy, who’d been anticipating a comment on the mermaid’s hourglass-like proportions, not her lack of water damage.

“...oh,” he said.

“I have a figurehead like that, but covered in anemones,” Steve said, cocking his head. “It’s beautiful.”

“I mean...you could...plant a vine on it, maybe?”

Steve nodded. “Put it outside in the rain, let it grow.” The lady behind the counter sighed, rolling her eyes, and Steve laughed.

“There’s a whole movement to ‘preserve’ our art,” he whispered to Billy. “Which mostly means they don’t let it become our art.”

“Huh,” Billy said, wondering whether human houses looked like museums, or mausoleums, to merpeople.

“Not to say that I’d pour water on your television set, or drop your mattress in the bay,” Steve said, grimacing a little, and watching Billy’s face. “I get that much.” He looked kind of uncomfortable with the lady behind the counter glaring at him, ducking his head.

Billy leaned to kiss him. He nearly steadied himself on the chair, and then remembering it would roll, and just held his hands away. Steve grinned up at him, particularly at his outstretched hands, and yanked Billy down on his not very much of a lap, hurriedly curling his tail up and around Billy’s waist as Billy threatened to slide down the smooth scales to the ground. Billy threw his arms around Steve’s neck, wide-eyed, as Steve held the wheels firmly, keeping the chair from rolling backwards under the weight of two grown men.

“Let’s go,” Steve whispered, and Billy nodded, breathing Steve’s sun-and-salt smell, and wondering whether it was okay to ask whether Steve would consider inviting him to stay—just until the next season, Billy thought, as the chair and Steve’s tail moved under him. Until the next summer, when he could ask whether Steve wanted him to stay again, or whether he wanted Billy gone.

After staying a whole year, Billy thought he might not have it in him to ask whether Steve was tired of him yet, but the thought of waking every morning to run down to the docks with coffee and banana bread was addictive, and he tried not to think about the end.

Billy ran into the lady who’d stamped his passport, and caught himself staring at her tanned legs propped up on the railing. “Oh, I’m human,” she said, laughing. “But I love it here. I can even shop in the little bookstore, imagine,” she said, and now that Billy thought about it, he realized it had an elevator in the back, and little lifts for the walkways along the higher shelves. “I’ve never had someone offer to lift me into their cafe, here,” she said, her nose wrinkled, and Billy nodded slowly.

“Shoot that thing!” she yelled, when she saw Steve’s awful old wheelchair, and he flipped her off.

“We can only invite a few people,” Steve told him, as they ate noodle bowls. “It’s for somebody you marry, you know, their family, maybe. Or if you leave the island, and have a kid.”

“Yeah,” Billy said softly, hearing the message clearly—invitations were not to be wasted, and Billy wasn’t special enough to keep. He finished his lunch, trying not to feel all butthurt about it. Max would probably understand.

Steve kissed him again, on the docks, and Billy leaned into it, feeling the familiar pressure of tears in his sinuses, and behind his eyes. He had three weeks left, he told himself. Three more weeks. Steve slid a hand up the back of Billy’s head, humming against his mouth, and Billy let himself go soft in his arms.

When they returned to the docks, Steve dug a big beach blanket out, and they spread it out on the sand, and Billy stayed out that night, losing himself in Steve’s warm hands and mouth, under stars like he’d never seen before.

Steve was watching his face the next morning, with a little frown, and Billy pulled away, sitting up.

“Better than croissants?” Billy asked, smirking a little, and Steve sighed.

“Was that what this was? Fucking me won’t make me give you an invitation,” he said. He didn’t look amused, the way he had over the bagels, and Billy wondered whether it had worked, a little. Billy’d always had a talented mouth.

“I won’t know if I don’t try, will I,” he said, laughing. “Maybe another round will help?”

“...I have to go,” Steve said, and he didn’t even fold up the blanket, just pushed himself off the edge and slid over the wet sand into the water, gone in a flip of tail. Billy watched for long minutes to see whether he’d come back—they’d been spending every day together, but probably Steve had stuff he needed to do, all the things he’d done before Billy had shown up at the island, easy with his body and his affections.

Billy folded up the blanket, and sat it in the shed, looking around. There really wasn’t much in there—it was the size of a small bathroom, with some knives for fishing, and a frayed net, and the beat-up wheelchair.

It smelled like Steve, and Billy stood and breathed, his eyes blurring with tears.

Steve didn’t come back, and after an hour or so Billy walked home, and ran into Max returning. “Billy!” she said, with a wide grin. “Nice night? I was out getting breakfast.” She told him about somebody named El, and somebody else named Lucas, and a Dustin.

Max was making friends too, he realized, which kind of made everything worse—she was doing her best, and Billy was just mooning over some guy who thought he was barely good enough for a fuck on the beach. She’d even met their families, he realized, listening, and registered that he hadn’t met any of Steve’s friends. He groaned into the pillows tossed around on the mat floor, and sighed.

“Should I stop seeing him?” he asked, mostly at the ceiling.

“I dunno why now,” Max said. “You’re not gonna find somebody else in a couple weeks.”

“Shit,” Billy groaned again.

“We can try again next summer,” Max said. “I like it here.”

The idea of returning the next summer, once Steve was bored, was enough to make Billy clench his jaw tight against the pillow he was hugging, squeezing his eyes shut against tears. “...yeah,” he said softly.

“God, you sound tragic,” she sighed, wandering over and dropping to sit on his butt. He grunted. “It’s fine, jesus. Worst case scenario we have a, like, vacation home. The vampire dude said we didn’t have to pay taxes on it.”

“Yeah, just pay for plane fare,” Billy sighed.

“He’s out there, y’know,” she said, “—tanning,” and Billy scrambled up so fast he dumped her with a drum noise on the taut mats.

When he swam out, Steve just stared out to sea, and Billy clung to the edge of the rock, biting his lips.

“I’m not giving you one of my invitations,” Steve said. “So stop trying to manipulate me into it.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, kind of wishing they’d never met. “Yeah, okay. Do—is that all, or are you sticking around?”

“I’ll stay,” Steve said, frowning at him, “—if you still wanna waste your time on somebody who’s not—how do you say it? Putting out?”

“...it’s not a waste of time,” Billy told him, swallowing hard. “I just wanted it to last longer, is all—” and Steve’s eyes narrowed intently. He grabbed Billy around the back of the neck, and yanked him into a kiss.

The remaining weeks, he took Billy snorkeling, and they had sex every night under the stars, Billy panting Steve’s name, and Steve holding him so tightly it almost hurt. Billy took him to meet Max, and she eyed him warily, but Billy fought and succeeded at securing Steve a plate of brownies, and he was vocally appreciative. She softened a little, at that.

Two days before they had to leave, Steve was lying next to Billy on the wet sand, the waves lapping up nearly to their waists. His shoulder was warm under Billy’s head, and smelled like the high ocean waves.

“...d’you think you’ll come back next summer,” Steve asked, and Billy snorted.

“Depends on whether I can afford airfare,” he said, sighing. “Depends on whether I can get a job somewhere that doesn’t need me in the summer.”

“...so I might just never see you again?” Steve asked flatly, and Billy laughed, shrugging.

“I don’t know,” he said, “—do you want to?”

“...fuck you,” Steve sighed, and Billy pushed himself up to frown at Steve’s face.

“I don’t know what you want,” he said, glaring back at Steve’s narrowed brown eyes. “You wanted me to shut up about staying. What am I supposed to say?”

Steve bit his lips together, and looked away. “...you know I’m gonna give you an invitation. You can just tell me.”

“What,” Billy whispered, scrambling to sit up, his heart pounding as Steve flopped over to scrabble around under his wheelchair, his tail flapping around a little in concentration, like a cat’s. He held an envelope out to Billy without even looking over.

“There,” he said. “All yours.”

“What,” Billy breathed, and then he half-crumpled it, opening it clumsily. “You—you’re giving me one?”

“Two,” Steve said, flatly, frowning down at the sand under his hands. “You and Max, right?”

“Holy shit,” Billy whispered, scrambling over to kiss him, once, then twice, relishing the little noise Steve made in the back of his throat when his lip slid between Billy’s teeth. “I have to go tell her,” he said, half laughing, his vision blurring with tears.

“Okay,” Steve said, quietly, and Billy hugged him before scrambling up and running back to the house.

Max stared at the two calligraphed invitations on the odd plasticky “paper” the merfolk used, written in Sharpie, and shook her head slowly. “You did it,” she said, and Billy laughed, nodding.

“He wanted me to stay enough,” he said, wiping his eyes, and desperately wanting Max to offer to handle the paperwork, so he could run back and kiss Steve.

There was a knock on the door. Max ran and opened it, and a short-haired woman wheeled in in a rainbow overall dress, and a small, fancy electric wheelchair, her tail the reds and oranges of a sunset. Billy never quite stopped being envious of how pretty the merpeople were.

“Steve gave you his invites, didn’t he,” she said, and Max slid them around her back, her eyes narrowing.

“...yeah,” Billy said, warily.

“Give them back to him,” she ordered, glaring between them. “He’s been saving those a long-ass time. He’s got plans for those, and he doesn’t need guilt-tripping by a pair of manipulative orphans, jesus.”

“I didn’t guilt-trip him,” Billy said, feeling guilty, suddenly, and remembering Steve’s stiffness as he handed them over. “I didn’t,” he said, less certainly. “...he...he just likes me, he wants me to stay—”

“He’s known you three months, and you told him you fucked him to get someplace nice for your sister to live,” she said crisply. “Give them back.”

“He’s not giving them back,” Max hissed, but she was staring at Billy in horror.

“I didn’t say that,” Billy said, waving his hands. “I didn’t! Not...exactly.”

“Fuck you,” the woman said, glaring. “You pressured him.”

“Fuck,” Billy agreed, his eyes tearing up again. “Lemme—lemme go talk to him. Max, give—give ‘em here.”

“No,” she said, sounding choked, but he walked over and grabbed them, and hugged her.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said under his breath, for her ears only, and ran back out.

Steve was perched up on his rock again, and Billy grabbed his surfboard and sat on it to glide out, paddling with his hands. The water was clear under him, his shadow passing over the anemones on the reef, and he watched the fish darting around, swallowing repeatedly.

“Hey,” he said, when he got close enough, and Steve’s head jerked around, glowering warily.

“...you came back,” he said.

“...you want me to stay, right,” Billy said, cutting straight to the chase. “You gave me these because you want me to stay.” Steve frowned back at him, and Billy’s heart sank. “Answer,” he said, his throat closing around the word.

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it,” Steve said, reaching out, but he just grabbed Billy’s board before he could drift into the rip tide again. “You wanted to stay.” He was tense, and he wouldn’t meet Billy’s eyes.

“What do you want,” Billy asked again. “...because I think your friend Robin’s in my house, and she says I guilted you into it, talking about Max. Do you...if I didn’t need an invite. Would you want me to stay?”

“...I guess,” Steve sighed, and Billy swung his leg over the board, dumping himself straight down in the water, because he was definitely about to make some kind of awful noise, and the sea felt good on his hot, wet cheeks. Steve couldn’t see him crying underwater, he thought, grabbing a jut of rock to keep himself from floating back up.

He wished he could take a few slow breaths, he thought, closing his eyes, and then something brushed his arm. He opened his eyes on Steve’s wide-eyed face, his hair swirling in the water. Billy bit his lips together harder, his hands clenching on the rock, and Steve shook his head, pointing up.

“Up,” he mouthed. “Come on.”

Billy let himself be hauled upwards, and pushed up on the rock again, like when they’d first met.

“What are you doing,” Steve asked, hanging on to Billy’s surfboard.

“Nothing,” Billy said, keeping his voice level. “I thought you wanted me to stay. For me. You can have your invites back. I didn’t—” he took a deep breath, hearing Steve’s voice say stop trying to manipulate me, and Robin’s guilt-tripping. “I fucking know I’m pathetic, okay, you don’t have to pity me. Sorry I—sorry I fucking tried, jesus, I just—” he shut his eyes tightly again, laughing as he imagined Robin’s disgusted look knowing Billy’d gone out and cried.

“Wait, fuck,” Steve whispered, clambering up next to him, where Billy barely fit by himself, since it was high tide. He was warm from the sun, his tanned skin gleaming with water droplets, and Billy salivated, because his dick obviously hadn’t gotten the message it wasn’t wanted. “Wait,” Steve said, half on top of him, his weight grating Billy’s shoulder blades against the rock. Billy didn’t really mind. “You only want to stay if—if I want you, what—what does that mean—” His brown eyes were huge.

“...don’t really know how to be clearer,” Billy told him, unable to pull his eyes from Steve’s mouth.

“You don’t want to stay unless I’m happy about it,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s hands.

“Yeah, that’s kinda how it gets, when you fall for somebody,” Billy told him, raising his eyebrows, and Steve took a shuddery breath and kissed him again. He didn’t stop, though, he just kissed Billy and kissed him, laughing shakily, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, as Billy clung to him and the rock, trying to keep them from tumbling off. “I want you here, I want you. Stay with me.”

“I’m what you want?” Billy asked, startled, his brain hazy from warm kisses, and the scrape of pointed teeth. “‘M yours then,” he whispered. “All—all of me. S’yours.”

They laid there so long, whispering and giggling, that Billy had tan lines of Steve’s fingers on his shoulder for months.

Here are the other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done!

#Harringrove April #Mermay #Almost #Harringrove #Steve's got a tail #Billy's got a surfboard

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bansheeoftheforest · 3 years ago

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Uh, is there still an angst break? Ignore this ask until your ready if so 👉😎👉

What was the au where Jekylls pushed down the stairs and experiences a skull crackening again? Oh well but I've been thinking of a branch of that where Jekyll doesn't know hes dead like all day. I also cant remember if that was already discussed or not

The lodgers patch him up, he complains of a headache, and goes on his merry way! He's confused why all the lodgers are so nervous and being nice to him all of the sudden, why creature is looking at him with a stange mix of empathy and pity. He was told he fell down the stairs, fell unconscious, and obtained a bit of an injury. He cant fathom why Frankenstein is "The only doctor who can treat him" why he has to constantly go to her for checkups. Why Maijabi is suddenly following him practically everywhere.

Hyde squeezes back control for a moment and tries the potion but it doesn't work. Maybe a bit of pain but certainly no transformation. Jekyll assumes his injury or whatever medication they're giving him to treat it somehow negated the effects

Jekyll complains about "suddenly blacking out" the lodgers know its because his soul is slippery. They tell him it must just be a side effect of the injury and not to worry

How long can they keep it secret from him? When does he find out? Does he? Does it get to be years only for him to realize that he hasn't aged? That he still needs checkups from Frankenstein? Does he learn sooner? Does a lodger crack and say it? Does he rot? Does he notice how so very cold he is. How animals act around him? It's all very interesting,,

I actually did think a bit of Jekyll's kidnappers for the amnesia kidnapping au! When drawing that lil sketch of Henry and O'Leary meeting Robert I had considered making it so O'Leary was suspicious of Lanyon like "Oh theres no news anywhere of someone matching Thomas' description who's missing. But some random people walk up claiming to know him? Begging to take him back with them?" And he'd think they were the kidnappers. But ultimately I decided against it as I felt Lanyon and Rachel were pretty clearly, genuinely concerned for "Thomas" :p

I tried playing assassins creed once, the first(?) one. But the controls were confusing and everything was sorta thrown all at me at once, and I got bored of it quickly

But! I went to the store the other day and just so happened to notice Syndicate was being sold for 15 dollars 👀 So I bought it because funky Victorian assassins and your influence! It's a bit less confusing then the first ac game I tried but why is going down or dropping so hard bdksnks. I'm having quite a bit of fun! If you dont count my rage and annoyance-, the B button refuses to cooperate with me unless I'm looting corpses >:(

The b button being the bane of my existence aside, I AM having fun! I like the funky outfits and I want to play as the girl twin (evie?) forever because her clothes are good and shes better at attacking than jacob(?) For some reason. Probably the stun her weapon has? Oh well! I have not unlocked any new outfits yet, nonetheless I wish there were more.

Also! I was thimking, and my current quests are taking place at 1868? Did I get that right? And Jekyll is like 35 in 1885. So in game he'd be 18! An au like I believe you mentioned sounds very interesting 👀 but I must play more to know what's going on and daydream about it

That would be the resurrection au <3

But god, I really like that branch! Especially combined with the hc that he can't feel pain bc the HJ7 and the transformations made him immune. Frankenstein patched him up and made fleshweaver to heal the crack in his skull but it still has to be bandaged, he surely broke a few bones, yet all he has to do is to be careful because it doesn't even hurt. He doesn't even realize how severe the injuries are because it doesn't hurt, it very well might just have been that he accidentally slipped at the bottom of the staircase and accidentally hit his head on the railing during his fall, rather than getting physically pushed and flying down the stairs, shattering his skull upon impact with the marble floor. Y'know what would be extra fun? If he only starts getting a bit suspicious about how severe the injury was once he realizes his lungs stop breathing for minutes at a time when he gets distracted, or his heartbeat stops dead in his chest. I know that that's not how biology or even creature works but lets say the HJ7 is funky, Zombie Jekyll my beloved. Perhaps he would only fully grasp what had happened once he blacked out too much and 'passed out', but his soul slipped out enough to leave his body unconscious on the floor while his soul/ghost was just... Watching. And it's not until Maijabi (who, as you said, follows him everywhere) immediately calls for more Lodgers saying that Henry's soul is getting unstable and Frankenstein's lousy job is starting to shine through that he fully understands that it was not a mere hit to the head. Or maybe it is when days, weeks, maybe months has passed and the headache never goes away, he only feels how his body starts feeling so much more... Fragile and delicate, that the guilt has eaten Helsby up alive and he corners him and spills everything, knowing he is going directly against what the group agreed to but not being able to keep it a secret much longer-- or maybe Creature would tell him immediately, once Henry is, for once, alone perhaps days after the initial accident. He cannot see Henry struggle to understand what is going on when he already knows what's happening to Henry, his mind, and his body. He doesn't listen to the plan that Frankenstein and the Lodgers has set up and immediately tells Henry the first moment they are alone. That would certainly be horrifying, I can only imagine how the Lodgers would find Henry after that, once he actually knows and manages to process everything. He would be so mad, not only to have been killed in the first place, but also because he was robbed of an afterlife because the Lodgers were selfish and could not accept the consequences of their actions. He would be mad, he would be so pissed and I have no doubt he might actually be mad at Maijabi too for even agreeing to help Frankenstein and the rest of the Lodgers. That anger would not stay long, though. That anger would soon turn into misery and sadness and paranoia so even as Henry has tried to push Maijabi away, Henry still ends up on his doorstep begging him to help him make sure he is not rotting, because no matter what anyone says, he is sure he can see rotten spots and patches on his skin and he is just so scared and jdhfjsdfdsfsfs... <3

Ooooooohhh, I was actually daydreaming about this just this morning! Granted, I woke up at 5 and began to daydream to fall asleep quicker but I still like the thought of O'Leary being suspicious of Robert/Rachel/Jasper/the Lodgers bc he is protective of 'Thomas' and doesn't want anything bad to happen to him and especially with the idea that Henry still has hallucinations and they both think he was abandoned by his family, left to rot at a mental asylum. O'Leary might very well think that it might be Henry's friends and family that dumped him that Henry had 'escaped' the hospital and that's why they knew he was missing since the Asylum itself obviously wouldn't have posted the news... I really liked Jeks idea, okay? Like a lot, I absolutely love it <3

Oh, the oldest AC game I played was Unity bc it was free after the Notre Dame fire, and I can confirm, I played 15 min and could not get through it even if i would have wanted to, it absolutely sucks so i have no doubt the older games are just as frustrating <3

BUT!!!! I'M SO GLAD MY CORRUPTION IS SPREADING AND YOU BOUGHT AND PLAYED IT AND ARE ENJOYING IT SO FAR!!! Trust me, Syndicate truly is an absolutely amazing game and is definitely one of my top 3 games of all time. I sometimes play it w my friend watching me play and trust me, I know that rage of trying to do smt but the character does smt else... or you try to do smt but the game doesn't react and you miss your chance... Oh well, still a wonderful game <3

My friend loves to play as Evie as well but I'm definitely playing Jacob every chance I get and I honestly get a lil pissy when I have to play as Evie bc I always prefer to play male characters, plus, I just like Jacob better bc he is a sweetheart. He is also canonically bisexual as hell!!! Have you met Abberline yet? The police officer? Him and Jacob together is one of my fave ships for the game. I also bought the ultimate/golden/whatever name it was edition so I had a bunch of extra outfits, I love the sherlock holmes outfit for Jacob but my friend keeps bullying me for it </3

Honestly? The time difference is the bane of my entire idea for the au bc if it's during their time Henry hasn't even graduated yet, and definitely not well-known enough for them to actively meet for whatever reason, and if you use the timeline for the jack the ripper dlc (in 1888) a lot of... Less than pleasant things happen so it wouldn't really make a lot of sense for a crossover to happen at that point but maybe it's just bc im a pussy and refuse to play the dlc. Rn, while imagining the au, I just imagine the 1868 timeline to be the same as the TGS timeline. I like to imagine the Frye Twins hearing about Henry and the Society and promptly breaking into his office to ask him to make poison and stuff for them. I also have a feeling that Jacob would flirt wildly with Henry and that Henry would be less-than-amused. It would also be a very fun thing with the fact that there would be two Henrys, with TGS Henry Jekyll and AC Syndicate Henry Green, soo... XD

#Man I really want to hear your journey through syndicate!!!#Oh man I cant wait until you meet Maxwell #and Crawford for that matter #he was the guy I based the crawford in the fic off of bc i had no idea what else to do <3 #OHH there would also be a lot of mixup with Lucy Thorne and TGS Queen Lucy #oh i can imagine them being rivals #that would be fun <3 #ask #darling-dolly-darlene #banshees au #resurrection au #amnesia kidnapping au

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

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Headcanons for being best friends with Klaus Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves x reader

warnings: drugs/alcohol, blood, smoking, guns, death mention

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Hi! Could you write a Klaus Hargreeves x best friend reader headcanon, just the random shenanigans they get into together, the fun they have together. No hidden romance or anything, just complete and utter platonic LOVE. If you have ideas for some angsty point in the headcanon feel free to put them in, I just want to be best friends with Klaus so bad and this is my way to fulfill it XD thank you so much!!”

meeting each other pretty much the day he left the umbrella academy

he was cheering in the street, which you found absolutely amusing

“hey, what’s got you so happy?”

“i’m so glad you asked! today’s my eighteenth birthday, which means im free at last!”

“wow, well, happy birthday”

“i have the greatest idea, do you want to spend it with me?”

you didn’t have anything else to do, so why the hell not?

klaus was a wild child, anyone could have told you that

he paraded down the streets with you, arms interlocked as he skipped around town

you two were singing whatever tune came to mind

“where are you staying tonight?”

“wherever i please!”

“would you like to crash on my couch?”

“do you have a tv?”

“i do”

he agreed and made you watch movies with him until you both passed out

after that night, you two became best friends

he was a lot to handle, but you could take it

plus, you didn’t mind having some crazy unplanned fun, either

to be honest, klaus did have some rough patches, though

he’d call you from the police station time and time again, asking for you to come pick him up

klaus magically was able to talk them out of any charges, you thought only his sister could do that

oh! i forgot to mention, he opened up to you about his powers and the way he was raised

you had heard about the umbrella academy before, so you believed him

you were just surprised that he was one of ‘em

“yeah, yeah, dad said i’m supposed to ‘commune with the dead,’ but he has no idea how hard that actually is! the mental toll it has on a person!”

he told you about ben, who was actually present at the time, you just couldn’t see him

you and klaus went on to be friends for years, sharing so many memories together

some of them were drunken, you must admit

you weren’t a fan of klaus’s addiction, though, especially as time went on

“klaus, you need to pull it together. i really think you should go to rehab. just try it out?”

“but i don’t want to part with you for that long! i’ll be lost!”

“don’t worry, i’ll still be here when you get out”

patching him up when he got hurt, which was often

“aw, my shirt has blood on it. that’s too bad, i liked this one”

“you know, klaus, the blood gives you some character”

“you know what? you’re right!!”

he would go on the wildest tangents about his family sometimes, five superpowered siblings (+ vanya), a billionaire for a father, a robot for a mother, and monkey.......totally normal childhood

sometimes he’d see his sister, allison, on the tv and watch whatever it was she was in, he thought she was magnificent

he really did miss her sometimes

“you know, they were all the worst siblings you could ask for, but they are my family. i wonder how they’re doing right now...”

“do you want to visit them sometime, i can come with”

“oh, nonono, you don’t want to do that, we may try to kill each other!”

“i believe that”

him finding vanya’s book and reading it with you in tears

“i know, klaus, i know. she didn’t mean to hurt you, i’m sure. she made the wrong decision”

“she just told the world about very private family matters! what else was she trying to do?!”

klaus and you stuck together for a few more years, but the day he found out his dad died was....it was something

he was laughing, crying, popping open the champagne, crying some more, hugging you tightly, and singing happy songs

“y/n...will—will you come to the funeral with me? please?”

“yeah, i can do that”

the house he grew up in was HUGE

he insisted on giving you a tour while he snatched up trinkets to sell

“put it back...”

“but it’s mine!”

passing by his other siblings and awkwardly waving

“who are you?”

“excuse you, this is my very best friend in the whole wide world!”

okay, it was a lot more uncomfortable that you expected it to be

especially when “number one” dumped the ashes at the funeral and then “number two” started shit talking their dad, and klaus started laughing when they started fighting

passing his cigarette back and forth

okay, and then he suddenly had a 13 year old brother fall from the sky

“klaus, are you sure we were smoking a cigarette?”

“i’m never sure of anything anymore, darling”

“that’s reassuring”

the little brother did not give a flying FUCK who you were

smth about the apocalypse

babysitting klaus as he spiraled out of control bc of his family

uh, losing klaus several times

and then he got kidnapped

and then he time traveled to the 60s and fell in love???

he told you all about dave

“he sounds amazing, klaus. do you think you could conjure him?”

“that’s not a bad idea! i just need to stay sober!”

easier said than done

apocalypse apocalypse apocalypse

now you were all in on that

you never thought that your accompaniment to a funeral would lead to several shootings, murders, and traumas.......wow

you really felt out of place

his sistee ended the world. you know, vanya, the one you thought had no powers

so his brother, five, time traveled the lot of you to the 1960s, but you landed alone in texas

“klaus? klaus?! anybody???”

having to cope with the fact that you were going to have to acclimate to living in the past on your own, it could be worse

you could have died in 2019

you went on for another year or two trying to keep your head low

but you ran into a familiar face soon

“allison?”

“y/n?”

although you didn’t know each other very well before this, you were ecstatic to find someone in the same situation as you

soon everyone began finding each other and also the world was gonna end again

reuniting with klaus

sobbing while you hugged him

“y/n, oh, my god, i can’t believe it’s really you!”

“i missed you so much, this has been such a wild ride”

“welcome to the hargreeves family”

ben, who you couldn’t hear: “he wouldn’t shut up about you!”

this new timeline was decidedly not a vibe

“you know, the 60s fashion i can live with, but everything else? complete trash i would like to go home”

everyone had to protect you because you didn’t have powers and they actually kind of cared about you?

klaus would also absolutely lose it if you got hurt

he would tell you all about his cult every moment he got

also he let you hang out at his mansion

but there was no time to hang out, you guys REALLY had to fix the timeline in any way you could

after becoming fugitives, you went to a barn for an epic *final battle* where you died lived bc five changed the timeline

getting back to 2019 only to find that it was......not the same at all

“i think...i think we may have fucked up”

“yeah, i’m going to have to agree with you there”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @cullens-stuff // @lotsoffandomrecs // @takethebladeawayfromme // @tessacabrera // @teenwaywardasgardian // @spidergirla5 // @sheridans-dynamos // @freya-xo // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @jay-is-groovy // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm //

#klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy 2 #umbrella academy #the umbrella acadmey x reader #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy #umbrella acedmy

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the-girl-in-the-box · 4 years ago

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Not Today XIX

A/N: Well, I believe we have reached the climax of this story! Literally *so much* is going to happen in this chapter, and I am calling this my two hour midseason finale. Don't worry- I'm not going on any hiatus! This chapter is just twice as long as most chapters XD It's going to be really intense, *hopefully* really epic, and really emotional I should expect. This is also the last chapter before canon starts to change dramatically, aside from the addition of Aethelind, of course. So, I leave you with that information, and without further ado, present the climax of Not Today. Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

Blood rushed through Aethelind's ears as she heard the screaming and clashing of swords outside. For a while, she had debated fighting with Ivar's army, but if she were to be killed... That would mean the loss of England's princess, when the only royalty they had now were Alfred and Elsewith. But Ivar was out there, and Freydis was in here, and if anything went wrong either of them- or, God forbid, both of them- could be gone in an instant.

How could she stand by and allow that to happen? Even without any sort of confirmation it would happen, the thought of it alone scared her out of her mind. There was no doubt in her that Freydis was the closest friend she'd ever had, with Ivar right beside her. Losing them was something that suddenly felt like a very real possibility, and it terrified her. Picturing their cold, lifeless bodies on the ground, blood seeping out from some wound, was just enough to make the decision for her.

Aethelind ran to her chambers and threw open the trunk she'd brought to Kattegat, searching through it for the sword she had brought with her. When she found it, she tossed the sheath aside and onto the bed. She wasn't going to be needing it on the battlefield after all, was she?

Preparations had been begun as soon as Ivar had ordered it, after she'd given him the letter which detailed his brother's attack on Kattegat. Or, at least, when it was coming. Being a friend to Björn had given her this benefit- he wanted to warn her when the attack would come, having not pictured, in any version of these events, that she would have become so close to Ivar, and ended up essentially on his side of the war he intended to start.

When Aethelind ran into the battlefield, her heart was pounding. This, she realized, was exactly what Hvitserk had been training her for for so long. This was what Björn had known she might face, as had all those Vikings who had trained her, when they wouldn't give her very many breaks during the fight. There was chaos in Kattegat, arrows flying and sticking in shields- something she very suddenly realized she didn't have.

It wasn't difficult to find one, though, and she managed to pull a red shield with a black sun on it- Ivar's symbol- from a bloodied corpse. She couldn't even tell who it might have been. But, they wouldn't need a shield now, and she did, so she took it, and lifted it above her head just in time to catch an arrow. Looking at the arrow with wide eyes, she focused again on the battle ahead.

People had been coming over the gates, while she could see something was trying to break through them. There was smoke coming from somewhere up ahead, and someone must have been burning, because the smell in the streets was horrific. No, that was the scent of multiple people burning alive.

Her eyes caught sight of Ivar, standing up on the gates and giving orders to his warriors- even if she couldn't hear every order he gave. That was the first place she began to fight toward, and she managed to reach him quickly enough. After all, though there were many fighters in Kattegat, most of them were on Ivar's side, waiting on Björn's forces to break through the gates. This made it easy enough to reach Ivar, and he looked stunned when he saw her, standing there with a shield and sword. The Princess was gone, and before him stood a Shieldmaiden, one loyal to him, he now knew for certain. After all, why would she have told him of Björn's arrival, and then fought against Björn's army, if she meant to betray him?

"What are you doing out here?" he ended up demanding of her. Perhaps she was every bit a Shieldmaiden, but he wasn't about to risk her life. Not if this battle could be won without doing so.

"I'm joining the battle, isn't it obvious?" she questioned, looking at him incredulously. "What does it look like to you?"

"Like you are mad!" he answered. "You cannot die out here, I won't allow it. You must be somewhere safe."

"And risk something happening I could have stopped?" she demanded, and let out a little laugh. "I don't think so! Ivar, what do you need me to do? I want to help." He blinked a few times as he watched her, and then finally, nodded a little. The gates caved.

Suddenly, there was a much greater threat to each person in that town, and both Ivar and Aethelind knew that. Their attention had been pulled momentarily to the gates, and then they looked back at each other, Ivar's orders for her decided.

"Get to Freydis," he commanded, and she gave a curt nod.

"No harm will come to her," Aethelind told him. "I swear it."

With that, the battle back to the Great Hall began, and she counted herself lucky that she was mostly able to keep the offending soldiers off of her, make them someone else's problem, as opposed to being forced to kill. But many of Ivar's warriors were beginning to form a shield wall, pressing Björn's army into a place they couldn't escape from. Vaguely, she wondered if Björn was among them, but she didn't have time to linger on that. She had to find the Queen.

The sound of the iron gate Ivar had commissioned being dropped reached her ears, and it became obvious what Ivar's plan was. The few stragglers didn't bother fighting her as they began to panic, looking for a way out, and she found she didn't quite have the heart to stop them- even if Ivar would have.

Instead, she kicked the door of the Great Hall in, and called out, "Freydis?! Freydis, where are you?!"

The Queen emerged with a frightened look on her face, and Aethelind rushed to her. "I looked for you and you were gone," she said shakily, her hands immediately going to the Princess's arms. "I was afraid they had taken you. Where did you go?"

"I went to see what I could do to help," she said. "Ivar sent me back here, to protect you. His brother's forces are inside the city, we need to get you to safety."

Freydis nodded a little, but shrieked and pulled away, causing Aethelind to whip around and see what had frightened her so badly.

There stood a man much larger than either woman, and he brought an axe down immediately against Aethelind. She threw the shield up to try and stop him, but it hacked through the shield and splintered it in half. Aethelind used this to her advantage, taking the sharp edge of the shield and stabbing at him with it while he lifted his axe again. It found its place in his neck, and blood sprayed her face. The man gurgled, and collapsed at her feet, but the sound of Freydis screaming, and the sickening sound of a knife piercing skin in the same place, multiple times over, kept her from feeling too horrified for the time being.

The man who had been attacking Freydis dropped to the ground, clinging to her skirts for a few moments, and Aethelind watched as Freydis began kicking him, screaming for him to let her go. Eventually, he did, as the last bit of life in his body left him, and the two women looked each other in the eyes.

"Come here," Aethelind said, and walked toward Freydis, opening her arms so that the young Queen could walk into them. She did exactly this, and Aethelind held her tightly as she cried. Her own heart was pounding, her eyes wide as she realized what had just happened, what had almost happened. That man had nearly killed Freydis, and the thought made Aethelind hold her just a little tighter. "You're safe now," she whispered. "You aren't going to die here. Not so long as I can help it."

Freydis nodded a little, and the two stood there like that until the sounds of battle died out, until she could only stand and shake, the tears having passed, and Aethelind couldn't bring herself to move. She was like a statue, eyes staring off at some invisible point on the ground. They had both survived, both taken a life to do so, but that was the nature of war.

Ivar was the one who eventually found them like this, some ash covering him, but no blood, which he was grateful for. He was not, however, grateful to find the two women he cared so deeply for covered in blood. When he saw the two bodies there, he knew exactly what must have happened, and he wordlessly approached, wrapped his arms around them. Letting his crutch fall to the ground wasn't exactly the safest call, but the battle against Björn Ironside had been won. He noticed that Freydis didn't pull away from him now, and he was grateful. He feared, sometimes, that their fighting would pull them apart to an unrepairable place. She seemed colder now, had even seemed colder than he was used to when he had asked her if she forgave him before this battle. Though she'd said yes, a part of him had to wonder if she was being entirely honest about that. He wouldn't have been so surprised if she weren't.

There was quiet, and peace, for the next few days, but Aethelind had changed. She didn't feel like the same woman who had left Wessex, and she doubted if she ever would be that woman again. Princesses in England didn't kill people, they didn't defend Viking Queens in distant lands, fight at the command of the most feared man in the world she knew. Maybe she wasn't so much of a Princess, anymore.

It almost felt, truthfully, like there was a darkness in her now that hadn't been there before. Ivar and Freydis had both noticed it, and while things hadn't gotten all that much better between them, there were shared glances between the two whenever they noticed her behaving in a way that didn't fit the Princess who had first arrived in Kattegat.

She drank more readily at the feast that had been held for their victory, as a start. That had never happened before. Perhaps she'd gotten a little tipsy the first night in Kattegat, but this was something else. It became glaringly obvious when she went to bed that night nowhere near sober.

Some days, she seemed to be in a daze. She'd avoid much interaction with people, hiding out as if she could avoid what had happened. Ivar still had her fitted with a new set of armor, made at full haste in case of another attack, and because he truly wanted her to be a Shieldmaiden, assuming she recovered mentally from this battle, and could handle it. They wouldn't see her recovered until something broke her out of the haze she seemed to be in. And that wouldn't happen, until she woke in the morning to the sound of her door being thrown open.

Aethelind shot up in her bed and pulled the blankets and quilts tighter to herself, looking at Ivar with wide eyes. He was dressed in his full armor, hair hastily braided out of his face, ready for battle. "What's happening?" she asked, anxiety clear in her voice.

"My brothers are in Kattegat," he said. "Someone let them in during the night." The sounds of battle registered in her ears, and she looked out the window. "If you are able, we need every sword we can get. It is chaos out there."

She nodded, and he couldn't decide if this was a surprise to him, or not so much. But, he also nodded, and left her, closing the door behind himself to give her time and privacy to prepare. He'd told Freydis to hide in their chambers, and she had done so. The lack of fear in her eyes had soothed him slightly, and if Aethelind joined him on the battlefield, then he believed they would have an excellent chance at victory.

Soon enough, his hopes came to pass. He was witness to the way the doors to the Great Hall opened, and the Shieldmaiden emerged, a sword fixed to her hip, armor covering her body in a way it hadn't before, her hair braided back away from her face. For just a moment, he could honestly believe she was not an English Princess at all, but a Viking Shieldmaiden, born and raised there in Kattegat. He wondered briefly if she might have had some Viking blood, somewhere in her history.

When she began to fight, he felt as though he saw it confirmed. The woman fought with a new ferocity that hadn't been there in the previous battle. Now, she fought with a strength and power behind every motion that stunned him. She slung her sword about, having unsheathed it a few moments before, and used her shield just as effectively as a weapon as it was an object for defense. The sight took him aback.

The battle raged on for hours, long enough that Freydis had managed to get herself dressed, had even done her hair, as if she were only preparing for her day. She was safe enough, she figured. Ivar's army wouldn't hurt her, and after what she had done for Björn's, she knew they wouldn't either. So, she was free to go about her business, so long as she didn't leave the longhouse.

Part of Aethelind wanted to go and look for her, be sure she was safe, as she noticed that Björn's army was gaining more and more ground, getting closer to the longhouse, and then she was doing all she could to defend it. Ivar was nearby, and he noticed the anxiety written in her eyes as she fought in the shield wall.

They didn’t speak, but an understanding was reached between them. Ivar went immediately into the longhouse to find Freydis.

What Aethelind didn’t realize, was Ivar’s anxiety was coming from a very different source than hers. Whereas she feared for Freydis’s safety, Ivar had been thinking. From what he could tell, Björn had led his army in through the secret escape, that he’d had built for his family in case of an emergency. The thing was, only his family knew of it. And Freydis…

She had gone somewhere that morning. She claimed it had been to relieve herself, but the timing now had Ivar unsure. He wanted it confirmed.

Aethelind wasn’t aware of what happened inside that longhouse, not as she fought with the other warriors and shieldmaidens to defend the King and Queen inside. But eventually, she saw they would be lost. This battle was essentially over, and Björn would win. Ivar and Freydis needed to leave Kattegat, and she would go with them to defend them. It was the only way.

She abandoned the shield wall and ran into the Great Hall, grabbing chairs and shoving them against the door to hold it. “Ivar, Freydis!” she called, not yet really looking into the room. “We need to go, they’re going to take Kattegat.”

The Shieldmaiden turned, and stopped in her tracks.

There, in the center of the hall, sat Ivar, holding Freydis in his arms, cradling her against his body with his crutch abandoned to the side. Aethelind blinked a few times, her heart pounding as she stepped forward. “Ivar…” she breathed, and he looked up at her, a hopelessness in his eyes she hadn’t ever seen. “What happened?”

He looked back at Freydis, and his voice cracked as he explained, “She let them in.”

This made Aethelind freeze again, blink a few times, before finally coming to kneel across from Ivar on Freydis’s other side. Her eyes were barely open, almost as if looking tiredly over Ivar’s shoulder, but the marks around her neck left no room to question what had happened. Aethelind brought up a hand and brushed the back of it over Freydis’s cheek. She hadn’t gone cold just yet, though she was cooling.

Freydis’s belt had clearly been dropped, was now sort of caught between Ivar’s hands on her chest. Ivar hadn’t found her this way, Aethelind realized. He had done this.

“What did you do?” she whispered, shaking her head slowly.

“I had no choice,” he said, his voice cracking once again. “She betrayed us, Aethelind. What was I supposed to do? Huh? I could not… I did not know-”

“You thought we still had a chance,” she finished for him. “And it would be better for everyone to believe she was killed in battle, as opposed to being charged with treason and executed for it.”

He nodded, and she swallowed hard, tears coming to her eyes. “I could not humiliate her that way,” he said.

It was a very Ivar way of trying to give mercy, she knew. This was the same sort of strange mercy he had tried to give to Baldur, in leaving him to die. And Aethelind knew, looking back over everything Freydis had said after her son’s death, why she’d done what she did. She knew the truth about Baldur, knew how horrible the fighting had become between her and Ivar- though the full extent of that, the fact Ivar had hit her, and choked her once, had not been made known to her- and she knew Freydis had begun to question if Ivar was fit to be King. Looking back, this made sense.

The fighting was growing quieter, aside from the cries of death. It would be done soon, and their warriors would not be the ones still standing. Time was running out. Aethelind looked up at the door as she realized this, and then turned to Ivar.

“You have to go,” she said sharply. “We aren’t going to win this. If you want to live, you need to leave Kattegat, now.”

"I cannot leave-" Ivar tried to protest, but Aethelind looked in his eyes, her own eyes almost begging him with a sort of soft desperation, and his words died on his lips.

"I cannot lose you," she whispered. "I won't. So go, before your brothers come, and they find you here. Please. Don't make me lose you, too."

He swallowed hard, and she could see the determination come over him. His mind was made up to escape, and so she nodded. Aethelind reached down and lifted Freydis into her arms, standing and carrying her back toward the chambers she'd shared with Ivar. The Shieldmaiden laid the Queen out on the bed, and Ivar went to find something, a small box, which he laid beside the bed. Neither of them needed to speak to know what was held within it.

"We'll go through the same way my brothers came in," Ivar said. "There is a secret exit. If we go now, we can be gone before Björn and Hvitserk find us."

Aethelind shook her head, and replied, "I'll meet you. If we go together, they'll follow us. But I can buy us some time if I intercept them here." He tried to protest, but she shook her head. "There’s no time to argue this, Ivar. Just go, I will follow. You have my word."

Ivar nodded when she promised him this. Her word had always been good before, and he knew it would be now. Especially knowing Björn and Hvitserk wouldn't kill her, not so long as either of them still cared for her as he knew- from the letter and from having observed her with Hvitserk- they both had at some time.

So, he slipped out the back, and Aethelind watched him go. The longhouse felt deadly silent once he was gone, and her eyes turned back to the body of Freydis, laid out on the bed. She moved to fix her belt around her hips once more, before sitting beside her, and taking one of her hands into her own.

"Oh, my love..." she began softly. "Dearest Freydis. My heart aches from your loss. I have loved you overwhelmingly, in some way I am sure I have never loved another. You were the closest friend I have ever known, a woman I'd have been happy and proud to have had in my life until the end of it. But now, I will mourn you until my final breath leaves my lungs, and I will love you twice as long. I pray you will be happy in your Valhalla, sweet Freydis." She reached up and cupped her cheek, tears leaking from her eyes. "You are gone from this world too soon, and this world will never know another like you. I love you deeply, and though I will never see you again, I will hold your memory as a light in my heart, and I pray you are happy in Valhalla, for I know that must be where you've gone. I hear your people go there when they have died fighting, but I believe your sacrifice, for what you believed was the best future of Kattegat, will have earned you a place in Odin's halls. So go with haste, my love, and know there will never be a day I don't miss your presence in my life."

Her voice cracked, and she leaned up to kiss Freydis's forehead softly, before pressing her own forehead to hers, and bringing her hand to her lips. "I failed to protect you as I said I would, and I doubt if I will ever forgive myself for this. But I doubt you have ever truly hated Ivar, and so I want you to know, I will save him. Even if I could not save you, I will save him. I swear it to you, Freydis, on your gods, and on mine. I will not let him die, whatever the cost."

The doors were kicked in at the front, and Aethelind looked back, hearing calls for Ivar. The voices were those of Björn and Hvitserk, voices she would have recognized anywhere. It was time to go, and time to ensure Ivar had time to escape.

She arranged Freydis's hands so they were folded on her stomach, and kissed her cheek one last time. "Goodbye, my beloved Freydis," she whispered again, and then she stood, to go out into the Great Hall to do what needed to be done. “Goodbye.”

Björn and Hvitserk were stunned by the sight of Aethelind as bloodied as she was, with tear tracks running down her face. The woman had a look of devastation about her, but with a sword at her side, covered in armor, they realized what she had been through that day. She had fought, and she had lost someone.

Hvitserk was the first to try and speak to her, even if her eyes hardened the moment he did. "Princess," he said, and she threw up a hand to stop him.

"Don't," she hissed out. "Too much has happened here, I don't want to hear my old titles. Not now, until I know what to think of myself."

Björn blinked slowly as he watched her. Somehow, even if he'd seen her fight in Wessex as she was training, he had a hard time recognizing this as her. Perhaps it was the fact she had still always returned to the polite princess, whereas Hvitserk saw her at feasts, eating and drinking (though, the latter in moderation) with the other Vikings.

"What has happened to you?" Björn asked, taking a step toward her. She took a step back.

"I have lost the woman I loved most in this world," she said. "Most of my family are dead, save for Alfred. And now, I have to leave Kattegat and disappear."

"Why are you leaving Kattegat?" Hvitserk questioned, confused. "Björn said-"

"Björn has not been here," Aethelind interrupted. "I told you, too much has happened here. Things have changed, now." She took a deep breath. "I have to go with Ivar."

Both brothers froze in their place, and looked at her with shock on their faces. Hvitserk didn’t move as he processed everything, though Björn did, stepping back and chuckling bitterly. He shook his head and put his hands on his hips.

“You are going with Ivar?” he questioned. “We sent you here to change his mind, to get him to step down, not to join his side! What are you doing, Princess?”

Her eyes hardened a little more. “I told you I don’t want that title,” she reminded him. “Not now, at least.”

“And why not? Has he changed you so much? Is that it?”

Aethelind huffed. “I find myself in the same place as my father, if you must know,” she confessed. “I am trapped between the English and the Norse, and I can’t choose one right now. I have come to love this place, but… I’m not sure I can just abandon Wessex. I am their Princess, but I also feel I am a Shieldmaiden. My people would never accept this, so I have to choose which I’m going to be. I’ve been the Princess my entire life, and I have to try this, now. It’s the only way to know where I belong.”

“Then stay with us in Kattegat,” Björn begged. “There is no need to run off with my brother!”

She laughed at that, and shook her head. “There is every need!” she countered. “He has lost everything. His son died, as has his wife, and you unseat him from the throne he won in battle. He has no family and no home, because I can see you’ve deserted him as well. Both of you.” Her eyes turned to Hvitserk, and he could see the pain in them. In going to Björn, he had effectively left her, as well. She felt betrayed. The thought of betraying her caused her pain to be reflected in his own eyes now. “I can’t let him be alone,” she continued. “If no one is left to care for him, I will. I promised Freydis I would protect him, and I told him I would not lose him. He will not lose me, either. I couldn’t save her, but I will save him if it is within my power. And if it is not, I will do all I can to try and make it so.”

Björn was clearly becoming frustrated with this. “Princess, step aside,” he said, and started to walk toward the back of the longhouse. Aethelind got in his way and drew her sword.

“I am not Princess Aethelind any longer,” she said sharply. “I am a Shieldmaiden, daughter of Athelstan, who was dear to your father, and just as he followed your father, I will follow Ivar. Perhaps one day I will have a child, and they will follow one of yours, and that is the fate of our lineages, but we will not know until then. So for now, Björn Ironside, I advise you stand down. Ivar will have already gone, and I need to catch up to him.”

“Where will you go?” Hvitserk asked her, taking a non-threatening step toward her. She gave him a sad smile.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I go with him.”

Björn huffed. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “Step aside, or I will have to move you to get to Ivar.”

“You’ll have to fight me,” she said decisively. “You won’t get to him except through me.”

Hvitserk was growing more and more uneasy, seeing his brother’s temper grow, especially when he knew Aethelind had become a well-trained swordswoman. He couldn’t guess how much she had grown since he left, but if she’d continued to practice… Fighting her may not be the wisest thing.

But, when had Björn ever been the wisest?

He finally growled and unsheathed his own sword, bringing it down hard against her. She threw her sword up and caught his with it, holding it away from her face. “So, your hatred for your brother outweighs any care you have ever had for me?” she asked, and Björn could see the hurt in her eyes. “I would have given you Kattegat. All I would have asked is that you let us go free.”

“It was never yours, nor Ivar’s, to give,” he answered her, and she pushed back against him, bringing her sword back around toward his side. Hvitserk could only stand aside as he watched the two fight, and he could see she had changed.

The amount of blood on her face suggested she’d killed that day, and the fire in her eyes suggested she would again, if she must. Taking a life was something that could change a person, and he knew he could see that change in her. The way he spoke, he could tell she was, at her core, still Aethelind, still the kind woman with a depth in her he hadn’t expected from a Saxon Princess. But it was like she said, she was caught between the English and Norse sides of herself. Now, she was indulging the side of herself that did not shirk at the sight of blood, didn’t recoil when it splashed over her face. In any other circumstance, he might have been proud.

Watching her and Björn standing off again, however, was not that circumstance. She’d flipped her sword around to her other hand at one point to block one of his attacks, and then he had gone over her head again. She’d still managed to catch his sword as she had at the beginning of their fight, but her grip was weaker now, her sword being braced by her non-dominant hand. Hvitserk remembered a trick she’d pulled on him once, and he could see the calculating happening in her eyes. For a split second, she could picture Björn hitting the ground, pulled by some unseen force, and she made her move.

Her leg wrapped around the back of his, and she yanked it out from under him, throwing off his balance and pulling him to the ground. As soon as he was down she stepped on his wrist, making his hand open reflexively so she could use her sword to sling his away. Pointing the tip of her sword at him, she began to back up.

“I’m leaving,” she said sharply. “With Ivar, and you will not follow us. You have Kattegat, that is all you need. You don’t need to kill your brother. After all, I was under the impression you had that grievance with him. Surely, you don’t want to follow in his footsteps.”

Björn blinked up at her in shock, and Hvitserk stood back, watching her. “Go then,” Björn said. “You fought for his life, and you won. But I won’t back down again.”

Aethelind nodded sharply. “Noted,” she said, her voice tense. With a deep breath, then exhaled, she finished, “Goodbye, Björn.” She nodded once more at Hvitserk, before turning and rushing from the room.

She paused and looked at Freydis briefly as she hit the threshold, and swallowed. She couldn’t stop and spend a final moment with her. Aethelind began to move again. However, the sound of someone running after her in the hall stopped her, and she turned back. It was Hvitserk, and instead of attacking her when he reached her, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her.

“I thought we would have a happy reunion,” he said quietly. “It appears the gods had other plans.”

When Aethelind realized this would not be anything hostile, she smiled sadly and returned his embrace. “For the time being, at least,” she agreed. “You and I both know I have to go with Ivar, but though I leave with him, you need to know my prayers stay with you.” She chuckled a little. “And with Björn. We have fought today, but I cannot find it in myself to harbor ill will toward him.”

Hvitserk allowed himself a small smile as he pulled back, looking down at her with his hands on her arms. “I knew you had not changed so much,” he said. “But I see you are a Shieldmaiden, now. If it makes you happy, then I want you happy. I just want to be sure you are careful.”

Aethelind nodded, her eyes falling to the ground for a moment. “You warned me once to be careful of Ivar, before you left,” she said quietly. “I still am. But I have come to know him too deeply to let him go alone with good conscience. You have Björn, and I hope with Kattegat reclaimed, you will soon have Lagertha, and Ubbe, and Torvi as well. They will love you here, while my love will still be with you, just… from wherever Ivar and I go.” Her eyes had lifted back up to his at the end, and she found him smiling sadly.

“I trust you,” he said. “I do not trust Ivar, I still think he is crazy, but I trust you.” She gave him a small nod, smiling bittersweetly, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead, before pressing his to hers. “Goodbye, Princess, Shieldmaiden… whoever you decide to be.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and stepping away now. “I won’t say goodbye anymore. Everyone I have said goodbye to has died before I see them again, save for my brother. I won't risk that with you, Hvitserk."

“You don’t believe you will see Björn again?” he questioned, realizing she had said goodbye to him.

“If God wills it, I will,” she said. “But I doubt it. You, I will hold out hope for.”

Hvitserk gave a small chuckle, and nodded. “Then I hope to see you again,” he said, and her smile grew.

“That is much better,” she said agreeably. “Until then, my Prince.” She bowed to him, formally recognizing his new position in Kattegat, now that Björn would be King. “I have to go to my…” She paused, not quite sure what exactly to call the man who she knew was getting farther away, and who she really needed to get to. “To Ivar,” she settled on.

“To your friend?” Hvitserk offered.

“He’s more than that,” she confessed.

“Brother?”

Her face scrunched up in a very disturbed way. “Definitely not.”

There was silence for a moment, before Hvitserk suggested, “…Lover?”

She seemed to consider that for a moment longer than the others, before coming dissatisfied with it as well. “Not quite.”

His face revealed a little shock, but not too much. Not so much that he wasn’t still a little amused by her admission. “Your Ivar, then,” he allowed, and she chuckled.

“My Ivar,” she agreed.

And, with that, Aethelind turned and left. When the door swung open, he saw Ivar standing there, and realized he hadn’t gone just yet. If he called for Björn, they could catch him. Instead, the two brothers locked eyes, and Hvitserk nodded once. Ivar mirrored him, and Aethelind took his free hand in her own. The messages passed between the two were clear:

Take care of her.

I will.

Hvitserk returned to the Great Hall to find Björn, and Ivar and Aethelind, hand in hand, left Kattegat to go wherever they must.

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tracybirds · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t talk to me about timelines XD lockdown 3.0 was an unpleasant surprise but it did give me some fun fodder to play with. Missing from this were the stream of Valentines to Covid that spread around my section of NZ social media XD I was tempted to make Scott write some, but alas it didn’t fit. Obviously plenty has been fudged, it’s definitely not meant to be taken too seriously and more allows me to collect together some of the mixed emotions of getting a five hour countdown to lockdown D: That was not fun lol like far out, and we had to prepped for remote learning by 9am the next day. Scott is not allowed to complain further in his swanky apartment and no job XDD

In all seriousness, this is Scott’s story for FabFiveFeb2021, hosted by the ever lovely @gumnut-logic (Happy Birthday! still the right day in Aus, I didn’t miss it right :0 either way *hugs*** and I hope it was a nice day :DD)

Prompt used was “Are you kidding?” - it really resonated on Sunday evening ahaha (okay I will stop rambling in my defense it’s post midnight and I have feverishly pummelled this out in a couple of hours, it had been itching at me all day.... I missed that feeling :DDD)

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

Scott was International Rescue through and through, but in the murky waters of the central business district, he thrived.

It was a closed meeting, stretching into the long shadowy hours of the evening. Legal advisors quibbled over clauses while Scott exchanged pleasantries with the company representatives, talking up his local ties to New Zealand’s City of Sails.

“My Dad taught me to sail, right out there in the harbour, you know.”

A casual remark but carefully designed to make himself seem approachable and down-to-earth, just another “one of the guys”. His associate had also sailed once, a national representative in his youth, although time and his new habit of lunch meetings had left those days long in the past.

Personal connections made more money than the lawyers in the background ever could, and Scott prided himself on the homegrown touch.

“Mine too,” said the jovial, middle aged man. “Although I reckon it wasn’t near as pretty a yacht as yours. I’ve read up on you as well, you know.”

Scott laughed, clapping the man on the shoulder.

“Len, I knew we’d get on. What do you say to dinner? This has been going on for far too long.”

“I know a great place that keeps a table reserved for me. Even on Valentine’s.”

“I’m flattered.” He nodded to Van Zyl briefly before addressing the small crowd.

“Ladies, gentlemen. You’ve done some good work, and it’s been a long one. We’ll leave it here for the night and reconfer in the morning.”

He acknowledged the tired smiles and leaned back and listened as the chatter evolved from the dry intricacies of patent law into cheery conversation of dinner plans and family time ahead.

He turned and looked out at the city, lights starting to turn on in the early evening light. The sun wouldn’t set for another half hour or so and he wanted to make the most of what they had left in the day.

So did the rest of the Auckland population it seemed. Cars were flooding into the area, people starting to stream into office buildings.

“So, Federal Street?”

“Len, what’s going on down there?” he asked, jabbing a finger down at the street below.

“Sorry?”

He and Len watched, dumbfounded as the office buildings lit up one by one, lights turning on and off again mere minutes later.

“Mr Tracy! Mr Van Zyl!”

“Charlotte, what is it? What’s happening?”

“Oh, Scott, I mean, Mr Tracy, sorry sir.”

“Charlotte. Take a breath,” commanded Scott, letting the authority of Thunderbird One bleed into his voice. “Tell us what’s happened.”

Charlotte shook her head, her hand creeping up over her mouth. She handed him her tablet.

“It’s a civil defence lockdown, effective midnight.”

A cold dread crept up Scott’s spine.

“Tonight?!”

Len pulled out a comm beside him and started dialling. The person on the other end picked up at the first ring, and dimly Scott could hear her calm, measured voice transmitted through the device.

“Can I help?” he asked, still staring at the stark words on the page.

“I… uh... help? Sir?”

“With the civil defence response, with the company, I don’t know!” He looked up, desperation in his eyes. “What can I do to help?”

Charlotte shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly.

“Mr Tracy, we have an isolation response in place, at your father’s request. Leave the board to organise the company, you need to get home and…”

“No.”

Charlotte’s voice pitched up a near octave.

“Sir, I must insist…”

“There are lockdown protocols on the island as well,” snapped Scott. “I can’t just go home, risk my family, my Grandma.”

She shook her head again.

“You can’t help here. They’ve done it before. It’s Level Three, people will be able to collect gear tomorrow if needed, we’re set up for remote offices and the last thing people need is you dilly-dallying in the top office.”

A loud shrieking alarm pierced through her final words and Scott flinched at the sound.

Len yelped next to him, dropping his comm with a curse.

“Damn emergency alerts, don’t they know the whole country has heard by now? Why do they just SHUT UP!” he bellowed at the still beeping comm. “It’s so unnecessary, the first time we went under, I thought we were about to evacuate for a volcanic eruption. Staying home, it’s hardly an emergency.”

Charlotte did little to hide her scorn, but Scott smothered a smile as he read through the full message.

“Okay, fine,” he said at last. “I can bunker down at the apartment for a few days.”

“Weeks, I’d be prepping for,” interrupted Len. “Hard to say of course, but they keep extending them.”

“You know why we do it,” said Charlotte, coolly.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I have to pretend it’s a holiday like everyone else seems to do.”

“Well, there never was any rest for the wicked, they say,” quipped Scott.

Len barked a sudden laugh.

“You’re alright, Tracy. Shame about how this ended, I’d have liked a bite with you.”

“Well, there’s always next time. Maybe we’ll find time for a shared celebration after all this.”

“My treat, Tracy, my treat,” he said with a chuckle. “Take care now.”

Scott nodded a farewell and turned back to Charlotte.

“You’re going to be fine?”

“I’ll go stay with my Mum,” she said, easily. “She doesn’t like to be in her house alone, and I can’t say I blame her. Holotech’s just not the same as being there, you know?”

“I certainly do,” said Scott, thinking of his brothers, hundreds of kilometres away. “Thank you, Charlotte, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Good luck, Scott.”

***

The downtown apartment was a mere fifteen minute walk from Tracy Tower, but with Charlotte’s words echoing in the back of his mind, the thought of potentially weeks stuck in an incredibly well furnished, yet incredibly unstocked apartment plaguing him, he opted to swing past the local supermarket. Located at the heart of the city, it was never quiet at the best of times but this was unlike anything Scott had ever seen.

The tension in the packed shop was thick as the throng that filled it. Over half the customers were already wearing masks, glaring suspiciously at those who had gone without and Scott self-consciously tugged his rain jacket higher.

Essentials, he thought wildly, just eggs and milk and bread and….

There was no bread. No flour either and the confectionary aisle was already looking sparse. He grabbed a few chocolate bars and threw them in the basket.

“Excuse me,” he said, waving down a frantic and wild-eyed shop assistant. “Do you have any bread out back?”

“No way man, haven’t you heard? Lockdown hits in like three hours, people are going mental.”

“But I don’t have any food at home, I was meant to be flying back tomorrow morning.”

The shop assistant, Ariki as his name badge proclaimed him, grimaced in sympathy.

“That’s hard luck that is. You don’t live in Auckland?”

“No, I don’t. But I won’t be able to get home now either.”

He nodded, like he’d heard it before.

“You’re thinking this is like last year, aren’t you?”

“I, uh, yes.”

“Right,” said Ariki, still nodding along with him. “Right, well it’s not quite the same so don’t stress out. Look, you can still get takeaways this time, we’ll be restocked tomorrow and all the real crazies–” he nodded towards a pair who were arguing over what looked like the last can of baked beans, “–yeah, they’ll be tucked up at home, refusing to take a step outside, it’ll be sweet as.”

Scott stared at him, then looked over at the line snaking through the frozen food aisle, between the meat and dairy and coiling up in the sad looking and so-called fresh produce.

The two chocolate bars and eggs he’s managed to grab hardly seemed worth it at all.

“I can put those back if you want.”

“Yeah,” said Scott, dazedly. “Yeah, thanks that’s be great.”

Ariki smirked a little.

“We’re reopening at seven, yeah? I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks again,” called Scott as he hurried from the shop.

The rain that had been threatening its arrival all weekend was starting to appear, and Scott hurried home, ducking his head down and shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew there’d be enough food for at least his dinner tonight and Ariki was right, he could sort the rest in the morning.

A swipe of his keycard, and he shut out the world with a muffled slam of the door and a sigh.

He shucked off his rain jacket, not bothering to hang it up, and trudged into the kitchen. It wasn’t like there’d be anyone around to complain for a while and he was starving. Lunch, the little afternoon tea nibbles they’d provided, even his last coffee felt like it had been drunken in another life.

Dinner, then finally he’d call home.

He didn’t doubt they already knew what was happening, was probably wondering why he hadn’t called, but none of them had even been swept up in the chaos of lockdown preparations.

He stared blankly in front of the fridge, the cold, bluish light illuminating him in the dark room. The sun had fully set by now, and the last vestiges of twilight had given way to the true, deep night with the onset of rainfall.

His carefully defrosting steak wasn’t on the shelf, and he looked around him in confusion, wondering if he’d accidentally left the meat out on the bench. He was hungry enough that he didn’t think he’d care and his stomach was well practiced at digesting the indigestible, bug and all.

On the kitchen counter was a neat pile: a plate, used utensils and cooking equipment all stacked together, waiting to be washed.

Scott blinked.

“Oh, hey, Scott,” called Gordon’s cheerful voice from behind him.

Scott whirled around, gaping at his younger brother, suddenly in their New Zealand apartment and not where he ought to have been – namely a thousand odd kilometres north east of the kitchen they were standing in.

“Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“You,” Scott shouted, jabbing a finger towards Gordon. “You ate my dinner!”

“Oh, crap.”

Gordon bolted a split second before Scott charged at him, yelling wildly with all his might.

“Scott, I’m sorry, it was – shit, I mean – come on, it was past nine, I thought you’d been out, and I, oh damn, I, Scott, damn it, I’m not dressed.”

“I don’t care, you ate my food, have you seen the grocery stores? It’s absolute chaos, you traitor, you can go out and get me something, put some pants on and move.”

Gordon yelped as he dove over the couch.

“Okay, I can see there’s been some errors in judgement here,” said Gordon, panting. “I’m sorry, Scott, I really am.”

Scott glared.

“Not good enough.” He paused, eyeing Gordon as he cowered behind the sofa. “What are you even doing here?”

“Uh, excuse me?”

“Here. What are you doing in Auckland?”

��Happy birthday to me too, love you bro, congrats on surviving another year.”

“You came to Auckland for your birthday?”

“Yeah.” Gordon sat up cautiously. “Couldn’t exactly see Penny, and it’s not like there’s many other places that will let us in.”

“I thought we counted as a US territory.”

“John cleared it with someone, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Didn’t want to be stuck at home for my birthday. And look how that turned out.”

He did look extraordinarily sorry for himself.

Scott sighed, and reached out a hand.

“Go get some damn pants on,” he grumbled. “And go look for Virgil’s emergency snacks, I know he stores them everywhere.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it, don’t you dare come back unless you bring me food.”

Gordon snorted.

“Sure, wouldn’t want to provoke the wrath of a starving Scooter.”

Scott jerked his body towards Gordon, and smirked as he bolted up the stairs towards the bedrooms, before sinking down into the cushions and closing his eyes.

The comm beeped gently, a stark contrast from the blaring alert from earlier.

“Hey,” he said, opening an eye as Virgil was projected in front of him.

“Tell me you’re not–”

“Oh, I am.”

“Gordon too?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it.”

They were both quiet for few seconds, thinking about how rapidly the world had seemed to shift around them.

“I suppose it’s only for a few days,” began Virgil, but Scott was already shaking his head.

“We gotta do the full two weeks. After that, we ought to be able to clear an exit with the harbourmaster and the coast guard, even if it’s not over, but we can’t come back earlier. The only reason we could move freely before without our helmets is because–”

“Preaching to the choir, Scott. I get it.”

“You gonna be alright without us?”

Virgil shrugged. “Rescues are down what with more people staying at home. Alan and I can handle the small change, and Kayo’s been itching for some POD practice recently. We’ll manage. Besides, you’re the one stuck with Gordon.”

“Hey!”

“Food,” growled Scott and Gordon threw a muesli bar and a tube of M&Ms at him.

“Is that mine?”

“Gordon ate my dinner and the shops were out of everything,” grumbled Scott. “Blame him.”

“It’s my birthday, I don’t deserve this.”

“Cry me a river.”

“Alright, don’t kill each other before the two weeks is up. John’s already organised a betting pool, don’t give him the satisfaction of winning again, he’ll be insufferable.”

“Oh, he’s on,” said Gordon, grinning. “Tell him I put fifty bucks on Scott tipping me out of bed or off the couch by the end of the week.”

“Got it.”

“You can’t bet against us,” said Scott, mumbling around the chocolate. “I thought you were on my side.”

“You tried to murder me over a steak.”

“The jury would have never convicted.”

“Okay, I can see you two are going to have a fun time,” said Virgil, loudly over their bickering. “See you in two weeks.”

He didn’t wait for a response. After all, two weeks was a smidge outside even his patience.

#scott tracy #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #sometimes i fic

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ohallthecrushes · 4 years ago

Text

Only one umbrella // Arthur Fleck x Reader

A/N: Autumn makes me so awfully romantic, I can’t even... xD My last fic wasn’t so good, so I came up with something better. I hope you like it.

Summary: It’s a cold and rainy day in Gotham. You bumped into someone on your way home and you decided to share your umbrella with him.

Word counts:1886

It was a cloudy and humid Autumn day. Not the beautiful one with peacefully falling leaves and random rays of sunshine breaking through the heavy clouds. It was grey and melancholic instead, one of the many gloomy days of autumn in Gotham. And the wind was so cold, you regretted you didn’t have a pair of gloves with you, your hands were freezing right now. But you couldn’t hide them in your pockets, because you had to keep your umbrella steady and hold it with both hands from flying away from you, that wind had its time to blow real strong today.

You were one of a very few people who actually went outside today. One of the unlucky ones. Those who didn’t have to go out, just stayed inside in their warm houses. But you... You considered yourself as the unlucky one.

You were walking down the street, looking down at the pavement to avoid stepping into a puddle, which wasn’t so easy, too many damn holes on a devastated pavement, holding onto your umbrella at the same time, trying to fight against the wind. Your eyes for a moment looked up to see what was before you. Most part of your way you went through without walking into something or bumping into someone. You knew your way and there weren’t many people walking the same way as you. For some time it looked like you were the only person at Gotham streets. But even with so little people out there, you just had to bump into someone eventually. And it was too late for any reaction. Your eyes saw a yellow jacket before you and you only managed to whisper shit as you bounced off of someone’s back. The person in yellow hoodie turned around immediately. You both took a step back and looked at each other surprised. You were ready to hear some uncensored epithets about you with an angry tone, so used to you were to how people from this city treated each other, but the man just stood before you, his green eyes shied away from you and his mouth ready to apologize.

- I’m sorry.

You both said it at the same time and then burst into a short laugh. You laughed first however and only after he saw you laughing, he thought it was ok to do the same.

You looked at him with more attention and you quickly noticed that despite of the weather, he didn’t have an umbrella with him. He just put his hood on, which didn’t really do any work to protect him from the rain. His hoodie was soaked as well as the brown curls on his forehead were wet and there was a single raindrop falling down of his nose. He looked bothered and insecure to you and you couldn't help but comparing him to a homeless puppy.

-Oh, you’re rain-soaked - you said with a compassionate voice and his eyebrows twitched with surprise at your reaction - Let me...

You wanted to lift your umbrella up and over his head so he didn’t have to get any wetter. That’s at least you could do after bumping into him, but the wind got stronger now almost blowing your umbrella off of your hands. Your hand was pushed aside and for a second you thought your grip wasn’t strong enough to save it from flying away, but the other hand, the hand of the man, grabbed your hand, strengthening the grip and helped you retrieve your umbrella back to you. His hand was cold, just as your yours, but under his touch, just for a moment, you felt warmth you needed. Warmth not only for your hand. You felt a flame coming alive inside of you, a spark of excitement that made you blush. You found it romantic and polite of him to help you.

As your umbrella was brought back over your head, his hand withdrew so fast, as if the touch burnt his hand. Looking into his eyes that once again shied away from you, you realized, he didn’t mean to grab your hand, he wanted to grab the stick.

- Thank you... - you said and lifted the umbrella partly above his head too - Here, you don’t have to get drenched anymore.

- Oh no, please - he shook his head - I don’t want you to get wet because of me.

You blushed and said nothing, unsure if he meant it to sound ambiguous or maybe you were just imagining something. But he reached for the stick and gently pushed it back to you and you realized he probably weren’t even aware of how that could have sounded.

- It’s fine - you replied and insisted on protecting him from the rain.

- But what about you? You’ve got only one umbrella.

- Well... - you pondered - we’re going the same direction and if we walked close to each other, the umbrella would protect both of us.

You smiled and he smiled back. You noticed one of his tooth was crooked, but it suited him somehow. This little imperfection was what made his smile so unique.

- Alright - he nodded - thank you for that. Not many people would do that for me. It’s really nice of you.

- No problem, really. It was quite not nice of me to bump onto you, so that’s how I can remedy myself - you laughed as you reached out your other hand.

- I’m Y/N.

He took it in his and gently squeezed.

- I like your name - he said smiling - I’m Arthur.

- Nice to meet you, Arthur.

His lovely smile perished from his face as he noticed how cold your hand was.

- Don’t you have any gloves? - he asked honesty concerned.

- I do, at home unfortunately.

He glanced at your jacket.

- Let me hold the umbrella for you at least. You can use your pockets to warm your hands a bit.

You nodded and held it to him as you both started walking down the street.

- So what are you doing out at that weather? - you asked trying to keep the conversation going. You noticed that he was too shy to start talking, but he responded to you when you talked to him.

- Umm, I had to go to the... - he paused - pharmacy. You?

- Post office. I had to send something to my mother.

There was a silence from him for a moment as he tried to figure out what to say.

- Sometimes I visit post office to send letters that my mother writes. She’s too weak to go by herself.

- You live with her?

- Yes - he glanced at you - d-do you think it’s weird?

- Weird? No, not at all. That speaks well of you that you help your mother.

- Yeah... I guess so... - he glanced at you and this time kept his eyes on you for a bit longer. You couldn’t tell what was he thinking right now, but you felt like you were being admired by him for some reason. He probably thought you wouldn’t notice that he was looking at you from the hood on his head, but you felt his eyes on you.

You turned your head to look at him too and he immediately glanced away.

You eyes landed on his hand holding the umbrella and you couldn’t forget the feeling you’d gotten when he accidentally touched you.

Your umbrella wasn’t for two and you had to walk very close to each other, your arm often came into contact with his. Everytime this happen you felt shivers running down your spine, and it wasn’t because you were cold. You wondered if he felt the same.

Either way, you both tried to make a casual conversation.

- Why did you go out without an umbrella?

- Umm, I forgot to take it with me.

- You must have been in a hurry then.

- No, I just... My mind was somewhere else. I didn’t have a good day today.

- Sorry to hear that...

- It’s alright. You’ve managed to make my day.

- Really? It’s v- - you didn’t get to finish your sentence as suddenly you were pulled away by Arthur. His hand grabbed your arm and pulled you to the other side of the pavement. As he did so, a car that was heading up the street drove fast through puddles, splashing over the place you’d been before. Some was splashed onto Arthur’s trousers. You could tell the driver did that on purpose.

- What a dick! - you yelled angry at the driver as you watched the car driving away.

- I’m sorry for pulling you, I had to... He was about to... - Arthur was standing in front of you, so close you could smell his cologne. His hand that had grabbed you before, was still rested on your arm as he tried to explain himself, afraid that you might be upset at him too.

- No, it’s alright, Arthur, I’m grateful that you did that - you smiled at him as you looked up to see his face. There was something about him that made you feel nervous, but nervous in a good way. He made you feel some warm tickling in your stomach and you wondered if that what people called butterflies.

- You saved me, but your trousers got hurt.

He chuckled and you swear it was the cutest chuckles you’d ever heard. His hand left your arm and he ran it through his hair.

- I’ll be fine, I’m all wet already anyway - he shrugged.

- But you may get sick... - you bit your lip and hesitated, but asked anyway - Do you live far?

- Ummm... Just a... a little far from here, actually.

- Well, I live nearby, just around the corner. How about a hot chocolate or tea? I’ll help you get warmed before you go home. Unless you’re in a hurry to your mother?

- Y-you’re inviting me over? - he asked astonished.

- Yeah, for a hot cocoa. Or chocolate. Or tea. Whatever you drink - you chuckled.

- Hot cocoa sounds nice - he said with a soft shy voice - My mother will be fine without my presence for a while.

- Alright - you smiled and slipped your hand under his arm - You don’t mind?

- No, not at all - he smiled wide as you both started walking again. He was glad you did that for he had thought about it but was too shy to ask you if you wanted to take his arm.

He was also glad that you’d bumped into him. You were the best thing that had happened to him today and maybe even in his life. You were kind and funny and beautiful. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, but he tried to look away, cause he didn’t want to creep you out.

He felt incredibly lucky that you invited him over for a hot cocoa. And he wondered if that feeling that he got in his stomach was what people called butterflies.

#arthur fleck #joker #arthur fleck x reader #joker x reader #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #joker imagine #arthur fleck imagines #joker reader

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 5 years ago

Text

The Dragonborn | M!Reader x Geralt of Rivia | Part II

Note: I split the oneshot because damn 12k does nobody want to read in one go xD

Fandoms: The Witcher (TV Series), The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Swearing, Gore, Slight OOC

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier meet a stranger in the woods while on the hunt for a special monster. They decide to team up but neither does Geralt realize that his prey is close to him nor does the stranger notice he's the one being hunted...

Word Count: 6938

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name!

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed.

Part I

_______

A few hours later, after they had eaten the rabbit, they began to look for tracks of the monster. There were a lot of them. For example, the scorched moss where Geralt almost turned into roasted meat, the dark footprints in the dirt, and the fallen trees.

The witcher was impressed by how good the warrior from Keizaal could search for tracks.

“You see that, Jaskier? The way the claws dig in the ground? It means the claws of the dovah are really big. That’s pretty unusual for female dragons, so it’s obvious we’re dealing with a male. But we uh... know that because Odahviing is male.”

While Jaskier and Y/N genuinely searched for any signs he just stared at the foreigner. He somehow felt like he had found a kindred spirit in the man standing in front with his back facing him.

A weird association, but there were only a few things that could really impress Geralt.

Magic, Fighting Skills, and usually breasts.

Which made him sound like a skirt chaser, but that wasn't it. It just meant what it meant. Dicks definitely didn't attract hi-

"What the hell?"

He lifted his eyes from the lower body of Y/N, and his breath hitched when those e/c eyes pierced his. Did he see...?

"The footprints are gone!"

Oh. That.

"That does make sense... Or not? It's a dragon, after all? They can fly. Or not? Can they?"

Jaskier stepped in front of him and obstructed his view on the other. Geralt turned and touched his face. His cheeks were burning. What's gotten into him? He remembered something Yennefer had told him once as a half-joke.

I sometimes think that if I haven't met you, you would have chosen someone who fights like you, thinks like you, who lives like you. And from what I believe that someone would have been a man. Because it needs a brute to move a brute's heart.

While his head was filled with thousand thoughts, Y/N and the bard inspected the tracks closer.

"It can't be that he took off. Do you see how the footprints are as deep as the others? If he wanted to fly away, they would be deeper because he had needed to shift his weight."

"Is that something you learned while hunting for the other dragons with the Dragonborn?"

The man from Keizaal nodded. Some locks fell into his face, and his expression was thoughtful while he searched for a plausible explanation. Geralt could see every feature of his sharp e/c eyes.

They were different from Yennefer's violet ones, their spark was different, but for other people, they must be as enthralling as the eyes of the sorceress to him. That's at least what he believed. They had a particular pull. He didn't feel it, but it was there. Puzzling, but powerful.

A cough pulled him away from Y/N's eyes, and Jaskier stared at him with a grin.

"What?" he asked, his voice almost defensive.

"Nothing," responded his friend with a knowing undertone. What the hell was going on?

"Well, I can't think of anything that happened. Witcher, what about you?"

The mesmerizing eyes turned to him, and he blinked. What was the question?

Thankfully, I always have a good answer ready.

"Hmm."

He shifted and knelt to see the footprints up close. They had a certain distance to each other as if the dragon was walking slowly. Y/N was right; he couldn't have flown away, the marks were too shallow. Either he disappeared into thin air, or the monster had an amazing control when it came to his weight.

"Strange..." was all he said.

He focused on the sounds around them, but there was nothing extraordinary. Just the whistle of the wind, a few birds singing, and the steady heartbeats of the other two men. It was a dead end.

"Fuck."

He looked up, surprised that he and the warrior of Keizaal said the same thing at the same time. Y/N shot him a grin, and Geralt snorted.

"Maybe we should try to set up a trap"

He turned and watched Jaskier's expression. It was a good idea, and they didn't have any other options, besides he wasn't really in the mood to search the whole forest for the dragon. The h/c haired man agreed and pulled a bow out of his satchel. The bard's eyes once again widened.

"I want a bag like this too."

"If you don't want to carry your things anymore, you can give them to me. I'll store them."

Jaskier smiled brightly, and Y/N returned it. Something flared up in Geralt's chest, but he ignored it. Damn bruises make my chest hurt.

The bard gave the foreigner their things, and he put them in his satchel.

"Let's think about the trap," the warrior tested the string of his bow and then focused his eyes on Geralt and Jaskier.

"Dragons are usually very picky about their food, but I belie- know that Odahviing is fine with deer meat. We should hunt some."

And they did. With the help of Geralt's tracking skills and crossbow and the Y/N's bow, they easily got two does. Although it took a while to find them since most animals steered free of the area where the dragon rampaged.

Geralt and Jaskier only watched, while Y/N slashed the throats of the already dead animals.

"Dovahs have a keen sense of smell; we have to cover our own scent."

He continued to drench his hands with the blood and even smeared some on his neck and armor. When he couldn't hear the other two approaching, Y/N turned around and tilted his head questioningly.

"U-Uh, what did you say?" asked the bard and avoided his gaze.

“What? Did I say something wrong? Can you... Is it a sacrilege to use doe bloo-"

Geralt interrupted him.

"We couldn't understand what you said because you spoke in a different language."

Y/N widened his eyes, and an apologetic look crossed his face.

"I'm sorry...”

Jaskier’s slightly odd expression concerned him and he examined the witcher. Geralt was more intrigued than scared by the fact the atmosphere in the woods seemed to have changed as soon as the other spoke in his probably native language.

The fact that Y/N’s voice got a lot deeper while he spoke, caused a shiver to run down his spine. The foreigner apologized again and then added:

“I said the dragon could smell us. We should cover our scent with the blood."

Jaskier didn't seem to like the idea, but the witcher nodded and followed his advice.

Soon the bard's and his hands were stained with doe blood. Geralt was unaffected by it since he already got used to it by hunting monsters for years, but the other man looked a little pale.

The warrior watched their actions and then approached the white-haired man. His yellow eyes followed all of his movements.

"You should also put some on your throat... It’s a place where a lot of sweat gathers."

As soon as Y/N touched his collarbone and neck, Geralt stiffened. Actually, he froze. Something about another man touching his carotid artery was really intimate. His nose caught the smell of iron, moss, and smoke.

Someone who lives like you.

Yennefer's words replayed in his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from unconsciously moving his head closer to the other man.

The warrior was only a few centimeters smaller than him, his head reached up to his eyebrows. The hands on his throat were rough and slippery, but they touched him with such gentleness, Geralt had to shiver.

He gulped, and his adam's apple pressed against Y/N's palm. The afternoon sun danced on the other man’s scars, and eyelashes and Geralt wondered if every man had such long ones. He breathed in and closed his eyes.

Is this the essence of a kindred spirit?

Suddenly Y/N's hands disappeared from his throat, and he could no longer feel the warrior's presence so close to him.

“Put some on your cheeks too.”

A little disappointed, he opened his eyes and noticed that the other man had already turned and now approached Jaskier just to do the same thing to the bard that he did to him.

Y/N's bare hands touched his friend's throat, and neck and Geralt suddenly had a very, very dark thought.

Abruptly he turned around and covered his lower face with his hand.

Did I... About this man...?

He could feel how heat crept up his neck, and he questioned the emotionlessness that every witcher was supposed to have.

What the fuck was he thinking? He has Yennefer!

Or at least had. Their relationship was somewhat in the stars at the moment. After their rather big fight last time...

Geralt didn't know why that mattered though.

He buried the fluttery feeling that had sprouted in his chest when the other man had touched him.

What he didn't realize, Y/N's heartbeat was pounding faster after the physical contact they had just shared.

After they had covered their scent with deer blood, they also smeared some dirt on their armor and clothes, much to the dismay of Jaskier. Then they decided to set up their stakeout one hundred meters away from the carcasses.

It was close enough to quickly attack, but also far away enough for them to be safe in case the dragon wanted to grill them. They sat on the mossy ground and leaned on the trees surrounding them.

"Now, all we have to do is wait."

Patience was something every hunter was supposed to have, and both Geralt and Y/N obviously had it. The bard, on the other hand...

The witcher's left eyebrow twitched in annoyance. After his friend had whistled, he began to eye the two men. Jaskier's stare felt like a cockroach was crawling over his body. He had a bad premonition about the weird behavior of the brown-haired man. He glared at him, but he just grinned.

Stop staring!

Geralt turned his head away and noticed how the warrior from Keizaal seemed to concentrate on something around his neck. He clenched and unclenched his fist with an absent expression.

He watched for a while and then realized that Y/N was holding a ring that he wore on a necklace.

A sinking feeling appeared in his gut, and he suddenly felt like a mountain weighed his shoulders down.

"You have a wife?"

His mouth was faster than his thoughts.

The man startled and then shared eye contact with him.

"Something like that..."

Geralt frowned a little. What kind of answer was that? He stared at Y/N with a hard look, but the other added nothing else, just sighed and hid the ring under his heavy armor.

The witcher only grunted and turned to face the direction of their trap.

Shit, why was he so annoyed?

The idea of the warrior having a doting wife waiting for him in Keizaal made his heart clench, and his chest felt tight.

This time he couldn't blame the bruises on his rips.

He finally acknowledged that the h/c haired man intrigued him and caused some rather odd feelings to rise.

But this... Why... Why the fuck was he feeling jealous?

And it wasn't even that the man had a wife, no; he was jealous because some woman had Y/N.

That dragon must have indeed killed some of his brain cells.

His yellow eyes traveled back to the other man's figure. His broad shoulders were hidden under his armor, but Geralt had seen them.

Just after he had woken up, he had seen the man in regular clothes. Although he had worn a shirt, the witcher had been able to see how muscular Y/N was.

His body seemed to be covered with scars. Tiny cuts on his hands, big slashes on his collarbone, and even some nasty ones close to his throat. Geralt was sure there were many more, but he wasn't able to see them. They were proof of fierce fights and the experiences the man had had to go through.

Was it weird that they attracted him?

Like the hands in his dreams that had traveled over his, the Butcher of Blaviken wanted to trace Y/N's scars with his fingers. He wanted to feel how his body had healed him, wanted to know the story of every scratch and bruise, wanted to touch the energetic muscles bursting with strength.

A flame of desire began to burn in his body, and he lowered his head to hide the dark expression he wore on his face.

These thoughts needed to stop; they would only become problematic in the future.

Geralt scratched his neck and then examined the brown-red flakes under his fingernails.

He felt a stare on his body again, and he sighed.

God damn Jaskier...

When he lifted his head, he was surprised to see that it wasn't the bard who looked at him but the warrior from Keizaal. Y/N's e/c eyes were unfathomable, but he showed a somber expression. He paused for a second, and the world seemed to turn slower.

The witcher could see every blemish on the other man's skin, every mole, every freckle. Geralt breathed in slowly, and the warrior's hair swayed in the wind.

He's so handso... The wind?

Geralt abruptly stood up.

"The-the wind turned!" he muttered and gulped. His cheeks felt hot, and he bit his lip. Jaskier frowned.

"Doesn't this mean that our smell would be...?"

Y/N sighed and nodded.

"Is a lake close by?"

The bard shook his head.

"But, we're only a few miles away from the sea."

The witcher watched the other man closely while he questioned the other's exhausted expression.

"The wind has turned due to the late afternoon. We should move."

Geralt and Jaskier only watched when the other stood up and grabbed his bow.

"Why not wait until the wind turns again?" asked the bard, and he followed after the h/c haired man.

"That won't be the case until tomorrow. The sea has saved the warmth from the sun while the land cooled down. We have to wait until the land is warmer again."

Jaskier eyed Y/N carefully. Geralt could already guess what he was thinking. He understood what the warrior from Keizaal meant. He learned about it when he was training to become a witcher.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

They both contemplated for a while and then Geralt spoke:

"Maybe we should indeed wait for tomorrow. I think it would be best if you tell us some more things about your dragon before we storm into this unprepared."

He tried to suppress a triumphant smile when the other two agreed. Of course, he wouldn't admit that he actually just wanted to spend some more time with Y/N.

He had a thought that they wouldn't meet again after this whole thing was over.

"Then what do we do about the deer corpses?" asked Jaskier, and it was a reasonable question. If they left them, they could attract other animals...

Both the witcher and the warrior looked at each other and then huffed. The bard just stared between them, and his face gradually darkened.

"You're not... thinking about eating them are-are you?"

Two hours later, they had put up a camp close to a clear pond and already roasted some rabbit meat.

They had buried the does, and although the physical labor was annoying, Jaskier was relieved that the two brutes didn't decide to eat them. The dead animals had been lying in the sun for a long time after all.

Y/N was peeling his armor off and thinking about the situation he was in right now.

The fact that they were on the hunt for a dragon excited him. Not the actual part of the chase but the fact that he would meet another specimen of his current best friends.

After he had killed Alduin, he had lost himself in a killing spree. Paarthurnax had warned him to get a hold of himself, but he wasn’t able to. His dragon soul caused him to lose all rational thoughts.

When he finally realized that he could learn so much more about Akatosh and the dovahs, he had already committed mass slaughter, and Odahviing and the wise dragon from The Throat of the World were the last ones of their species.

Or that's at least what the three of them had thought. But they were wrong, and now he had the chance to meet another dragon! And probably also the chance to go home. If he wanted to.

But first, they had to get a hold of him.

"Jaskier?"

He faced the bard who currently played on his lute while also watching the fire. He hummed in response and looked up.

"We should wash off the blood in the pond. Do you want to go first?"

The man seemingly wanted to say yes but then shook his head and responded with a slight grin:

"No, you can go first. I'll watch the rabbit."

Y/N furrowed his brows but then smiled and thanked him. He left the pile of his armor and Jaskier behind and wandered to the pond, which was located behind some trees and big boulders.

The view from the camp was obscured, which meant he had some privacy. Not that he cared much, but he would rather not show his back to the two other men. Since it showed one more change he had gone through in the last year.

Although Geralt wasn't currently in the camp anyway, he left to get some more branches for the fire.

The man carefully opened his shirt and took it off. His boots, pants, and underwear soon followed suit, and he stepped to the shore where some reed grew.

The water was cold when he stepped in, but he endured it. His muscles just tensed a little.

Y/N walked in further until the water reached his abdomen. He wasn’t even halfway in the pond, it was fairly big.

He sucked in some air when he lowered himself into the water until it reached his chin. He had to rub his skin a little, but then the water around him turned slightly red.

The man watched how the deer blood twirled, and he stared at his reflection. The red blood on his cheeks conjured a cursed memory in his head, and he heaved.

Hii los dur, Dovahkiin. Hi aal krii zu'u nu nuz zu'u ahrk pah dii Zeymah fen koraav hi mah wah hin daan. You are cursed, Dragonborn. You may kill me now, but all my brethren and I will see how you fall to your doom.

The ominous words of the last dovah he had killed echoed in his mind. He hugged himself, and his fingers touched his shoulder blades.

The skin was still shedding. Y/N sighed. What was going on with his body? The shedding had started a few months ago but he had no idea why.

And since it only started after he had arrived here he couldn’t ask Odahviing or Paarthurnax.

He breathed out slowly and then dived underwater.

The coldness cleared his head a little, and he relaxed slightly. His feet left the muddy ground, and for a moment, he floated.

If I could just stay like this...

His hand clenched to a fist, and he released some Magicka. The small pressure on his nose disappeared, and he automatically breathed in.

Air filled his lungs, and the Dragonborn smiled. Peace washed over him, and he spread his arms.

He slowly floated to the surface, and his face broke through it. Water droplets pearled from his cheeks and eyelashes, and he stared into the sky. The tree crowns whistled, and he watched how some clouds traveled across the darkening sky. The sun was already setting.

This was the ending of the first day together with the bard and the witcher. Geralt's face came to his mind, and he bit his lip.

The white-haired man reminded him of Farkas, but he was also completely different. His attitude for example. Farkas was openly benevolent and also voiced his concerns. The witcher seemed to be reluctant. Although Y/N was able to feel that he cared deeply for his friend.

They shared the same keen instincts, but Geralt's came from the harsh trials witchers had to go through while his love had them because he had been a werewolf.

I can't believe that you chose Farkas over Vilkas. Do you like strength more than brains?

Aela's voice sounded in his head, and Y/N huffed.

The huntress had probably been right. He was attracted to the Butcher of Blaviken. These yellow eyes... They had something animalistic and penetrating that stirred an urge deep inside of him.

He sighed and put his hands on his face. Then he scrubbed and splashed his face with water.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a person standing behind a tree at the other side of the pond after he had wiped droplets from his eyes and opened them again.

Y/N breath stopped, and a wail got caught in his throat. He abruptly stood up again, although it felt like he had still no ground under his feet. What...?

Light blue eyes framed by black war paint stared at him with a resentful look.

"Fa-Far..."

His voice failed, but he agitatedly began to move across the pond, trying to reach his lost lover and husband.

Breath erratic and tears were pricking in the corners of his eyes, but at that moment, he only felt happiness and relief. Farkas was alive!

"D-Dii Shul!" My Sunshine!

The ground suddenly declined, he lost his footing and dived involuntarily underwater.

Nevertheless, he was still able to hear the words that had left the lips he had kissed so often.

"So, you've abandoned me."

An ice-cold feeling washed over him, and his heart broke.

No, that's not true! I would never! You were gone! You left me! You died!

A disturbing scream erupted from his throat, and the skin around his mouth tore. The scream turned into a roar, and he clawed at his face. The e/c eyes shook, and the black pupils turned to slits.

Shreds of flesh got caught by growing claws, and gigantic fangs emerged from the man's jaws.

H/C hair parted, shrunk, and gave way for two enormous horns. His whole body shook, and his limbs twisted and cracked. His spine grew longer, broke through his lower back, and two bony wings arose from his back.

The murky water of the pond turned red and swirled around the tremoring creature who rapidly grew until it was able to stand on the pond bed. Flesh turned hard and into black scales. New tissue engulfed its wings and tail and also got covered by rockhard scales.

Burning heat crawled up its throat, and furious flames burst from its maw. It broke through the pond's surface, and the splashed water evaporated immediately.

The dragon spread its wings, and they created waterfalls when they left the water. The wingspan was as big as half of the pond, and when it pulled them closer to its body ready for takeoff, the leaves and needles of the surrounding trees shook.

A thunderous boom announced the beast's presence, and it tensed its huge muscles.

When it thrust off the pond bed, the water turned into waves and flooded over the shore and soaked shoes and clothes. Branches broke like grass when the dragon's wings grazed them, and trees lost all their leaves from the harsh wind which got created.

A scent caught the dragon’s attention and it whipped its head around. A triumphant roar shook the earth when it dashed towards the direction the smell came from.

The beast ignored the scared brown-haired human that stared at it from a small campsite.

Geralt was grabbing some more branches when he saw some Celandine, and he swiftly decided to take them with him. They were always helpful, after all.

Putting the branches on the ground, he knelt and carefully tore the flowers and the not yet bloomed buds from their stems.

While he stored them, his thoughts trailed off to the mysterious man who accompanied him and Jaskier.

Y/N had sparked something inside of him, and now he was questioning his heart, which confused him even more since the person he found interesting was a man.

On the other hand, he couldn't quite tell if the feeling in his chest was something along the lines of romantic attraction or just common interest.

Deep down in Geralt's heart, he knew that him eyeing the other man's ass was definitely not something one would call a platonic interest, but he just couldn't admit that he, who never thought about other men like that, suddenly liked one.

He didn't feel disgusted, but the thought alarmed him.

He had seen a lot of things during his time as a witcher, and relationships between two men were never something that ended well. Various churches took care of that.

An image in his head made his fists clench unconsciously.

And there was still Yennefer. They never openly ended their relationship so... Was he still involved with her? He couldn't tell.

The Butcher of Blaviken sighed and then noticed a pebble in the moss. It had white streaks over its grey shape, and they reminded him of the scars in the foreigner's face.

Was he seriously associating weird things to Y/N now?

Maybe the other cursed him.

While he pondered some more about the other man, it took a while for him to notice that the forest had turned unnaturally silent.

Birds stopped singing as if they held their breaths in fear, and suddenly a roar disrupted the silence. It came from far away, but Geralt was able to hear it loud and clear because of his mutated hearing.

He abruptly stood up and turned towards the direction. It came from the camp, and Geralt's heart sank.

Please no.

He disregarded the branches he had meticulously collected and started to rush back the way he came from. Thankfully he had taken his swords with him, and he unsheathed the silver one.

The image of the bard and the foreigner being killed carried his feet forward and pushed him to almost inhumane speed.

He wasn't even halfway back when a shadow cast on the moss stopped him in his tracks. A gigantic black dragon soared through the sky, and his wings caused the surrounding trees to shake. Geralt could feel the wind pressure, and the aura that the beast released caused a shiver to run down his spine.

The witcher grinned darkly. That bastard had an impressive bloodthirst. Geralt's hunter instincts wanted to fight that monster, but his heart worried for his best friend and his potential love interest.

He cursed himself for not taking his small bag with the various vials with potions and bombs, but he had no time to get annoyed because the dragon suddenly dived down, and he had to roll out of the way or else he would have been crushed.

When he stood up again and turned, he came face to face with the beast's massive head, and his heart skipped a beat.

Y/N fought against such big monsters? Repeatedly?

His respect for the other man increased significantly.

Geralt couldn't avoid his legs to tense, but the dragon didn't attack. Instead, its e/c eyes examined him, and the witcher wondered if the monster's pupils acted like a human's because they widened considerably.

This is a dovah...

The beast was at least as big as a typical villager house, and Geralt was sure that the spikes on its body would cause massive damage to any attacker. The black scales seemed impenetrable, and the monster slayer seriously questioned his chances of survival.

He had already felt it before when he had run from the dragon. It wasn't an enemy who he could overpower. If he had to fight, it would be either an overpriced victory or death. But escaping wasn't an option anymore, the dragon's tail had trapped him before the beast.

His grip around his sword tightened, and he was ready to use Quen on himself when the beast shifted and held its head up high. A growl escaped from its throat, and Geralt tensed even more. Unexpectedly, the dragon spoke:

"Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok."

The witcher obviously didn't understand, but the voice of the dragon shook him to the core. It was as if someone was screaming in his ear, and he had to press his hands on them. For that, he carelessly let go of his sword, but he felt like his eardrums would explode at any time.

His chest tingled, and the echo of the dragon's word resounded through his whole body. Geralt's legs gave out, and he fell to his knees.

The beast lowered its head until its throat almost touched the ground, and then it snorted.

Hot air blew his hair back, and the Butcher of Blaviken came to his senses again. He needed to get his sword back! Right when he stretched out his hand to take his silver sword, the dragon crept forward until its snout was dangerously close.

Geralt froze. If the monster decided to eat him now, he would have no time to react. This was the end.

The realization hit him, and regret washed over him like a seastorm. There were many things in his life that he hadn't resolved yet—many things he wanted to achieve and also many things he wanted to try.

E/c eyes showed up in his mind, and his heart burned. If the dragon ate him now, would they meet in death?

His eyes flickered to the dragon, and that's when he realized something.

Although he had no time to elaborate the thought because the dragon moved its head forward until there was merely the distance of a hand between him and the beast.

He breathed out slowly, and his witcher heart beat faster. He wanted to face his enemy to the last second, but after so many fights, he thought that closing his eyes and embracing death that way seemed more peaceful and freeing. So he closed them and took one last breath.

I'm sorry, Ciri.

Seconds passed, where he only heard his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Until wind brushed his hair in his face, and he heard a sniff. A rumble shook the earth, and he slowly opened his eyes again.

The dragon breathed in and sniffed, its eyes closed, and Geralt couldn't believe it when the beast closed the distance, and the scaly snout touched his chest. Black shiny scales only a few centimeters from his face.

He searched the dragon's eyes, but they were closed. The rumble sounded again, and if he didn't know any better, the witcher would have guessed that the monster was humming.

When it opened its eyes again, and yellow and e/c met, Geralt had an unbelievable thought, and he whispered:

"Y-Y/N?"

The look in the dragon's eyes changed, and it pulled its head back abruptly.

A growl erupted from the beast's throat, and it only took a matter of seconds for it to tense its muscles and take off the ground.

Geralt was left in a daze, panic, and realization the only thing he believed to have seen in the dragon's expression.

Leaves fluttered to the ground, and the deep claw marks in the dirt before him were the only proof for the monster's presence.

What... What just happened?

The dragon had touched him. He slowly lifted his hand and put it on his chest. It's warm. The dovah had an unexpectedly high body temperature.

Why did it...? Y/N... Was it really him? H-How...

He remembered something the foreigner had told them.

His dragon soul was too much for his human body, and he slowly turned into a dovah.

"The dovahkiin..."

Geralt lifted himself off the ground and took off running to the direction the dragon left for.

The dragon didn't make it far.

Geralt saw him soaring through the sky and circling above a clearing in the forest. The witcher could see a small hut standing at the clearing border, and he remembered another thing that Y/N had told him and Jaskier.

I've been staying here in the forest for a few weeks in a hut half a mile from here.

Geralt slowly realized that his intuition was probably correct.

When he arrived at the clearing, the black dragon had already landed.

Although it was more like a crash. Long furrows plowed the forest ground. But the Butcher of Blaviken couldn't see the dragon lying there because a strange fog obstructed his view. He was hesitant about approaching the steam, but he really wanted to know if his theory was correct. A voice interrupted his twisting thoughts:

"Bormah, Bormah... Aak dovah!"

It was deep and raspy, and he didn't understand what it said, but Geralt could recognize it instantly. It was him.

Y/N was the dragon.

His whole body hurt.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Blue eyes watched him with a worried expression. He didn't reply. What was there to say? The dovah needed to die. He was the only one capable of killing them.

Why couldn't he understand?

"Think about it, Y/N. You're one of them, so you shouldn-"

"Don't you dare compare me to them! I AM THE DRAGONBORN! Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin!"

He knew he went too far as soon as he saw the other's expression.

Farkas stared at him with slightly widened eyes.

"Control yourself, Dovahkiin. Or else disaster will fall upon you and the ones you love."

Arngeir stepped forward and put a shoulder on his lover's shoulder. He could feel how his pupils flickered. Anger welled in his stomach.

"Don't touch him..."

His voice was low and threatening. Farkas scoffed, but his face only showed hurt.

"Don't worry about me, Dragonborn."

The distance in his words was like a thorn in his heart. The idea that Farkas couldn't understand his thoughts tore his heart in two. Y/N only watched when his significant other walked out of the room, Arngeir following him.

"Wa-Wait, Farkas, no!"

He reached out his hand to stop him, but the other man was already so far away.

"Akatosh, Akatosh, help me!"

Tears welled up in his eyes, and a wail escaped his lips.

Arngeir was right. Disaster fell upon him.

The skin shedding on his back, his pupils turning to slits, the increased usage of Dovahzul, all were signs for his slow transformation.

He couldn't believe that the stories Odahviing had told him jokingly were real. His dragon soul was changing his body and personality.

And now it had happened. He turned into a dragon.

How many times had he already done that? The witcher mentioned that the monster they were hunting tormented the villagers.

What had he done?!

The pain he felt after transforming was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Y/N became the monster he had thought he was slaying when he had eradicated all the dragons from Skyrim.

The scars he had received from all the dovah burned, and shame clung to his heart.

Why didn't he listen to Arngeir?

The greybeard was wise and only wanted his best after the dragonborn distanced himself from the Blades. His loved one died because he didn't listen!

And now he... He turned into an inhumane beast.

Suddenly he remembered the bard. Did he attack him?! A sinking feeling struck his gut.

Please, no, no, NO!

What about Geralt?

Oh Talos... I have to return to the camp!

He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were heavy. He groaned.

What if the two others were bleeding out while he laid here? If the witcher died... Y/N was sure he could never forgive himself.

Farkas's death was something that he could slowly overcome, although it took him years, and he still hadn't let him go but... If the witcher's death joined, he was sure his shoulders would give in under all the regret.

Just imagining how these beautiful yellow eyes lost their light, he couldn't take it.

He didn't realize it immediately, but his heart was already in the hands of Geralt. He had already lost.

Y/N finally regained some strength, and he used it to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could see that the sky had already turned dark blue.

He knew what lurked in the forest at night.

The thought reminded him again of the witcher. What an irony that it took the white-haired man less than a day to sweep him off his feet. It was the complete opposite with Farkas. Maybe they weren't that similar at all.

He turned on his side and soon realized that his back felt different. The cold wind gave his arms goosebumps, but his back felt perfectly warm. He lifted his arm and cricked it to reach his shoulderblade. When his fingers grazed his back, he sucked in some air.

That definitely wasn't flesh. That smooth texture... Y/N would recognize it everywhere. He had felt it so many times after all.

His back was full of scales.

Panic and adrenaline gave him strength, and he sat up, ignoring the pain that bolted through his torso. Only now did he realize that he was completely naked.

That shocked him less than the fact that only a few meters away stood the Butcher of Blaviken with wide eyes, his sword in his hand ready to attack.

"Y-You..." Geralt didn’t continue.

Y/N opened his mouth but didn't say anything as soon as he saw how the other man flinched.

His heart pounded loud in his ears, and he felt light-headed. He breathed in, it sounded strained.

A smile crept on his lips, and he grinned exhausted.

"Thank Talos, you're alive..."

The witcher didn't know what to respond.

He was frozen although he couldn't tell if it was because the person before him was a fire-spitting dragon or because the man was butt naked. Something that usually wouldn't impress him but after realizing that Y/N attracted him... He was conflicted.

"You... you turned into a dragon," he finally said with a neutral tone.

The man sitting in the crater nodded slowly. He looked as lost as Geralt felt.

Did he not know?

"Are you... Are you the dovahkiin?"

Y/N nodded again, and he lowered his head.

The witcher could see the shame on his face. After receiving this information, he didn't know what to do with it. It should probably agitate him, all the villagers that had their cattle stolen and all the lost prey on hunts, but Geralt felt nothing. The shock was perhaps too deep.

One is a sorceress, one a dragon. It seems like I fall in love with extraordinary people. Wait...

His eyes found the e/c ones. Did he really...? Y/n watched him with a conflicted expression.

"Do you want to kill me?"

The question surprised him; he hadn't thought about it. But he opposed it.

"Should I?"

His voice had a challenging undertone, but it sounded light, and his heart fluttered a little when the other man smiled weakly.

Geralt lowered his sword. Y/N didn't feel like a threat; in fact, he looked defeated.

The h/c haired man leaned back and exposed his torso. The witcher was right. Even his chest was full of scars, and most of them looked like claw marks.

A strong warrior.

"I caused you a lot of trouble. If I have to pay for it, I'll gladly do it with my life. It's not worth much anymore."

These words caused him to frown. The man sounded like he had already given up. Where was his will to fight?

The imposing aura Geralt had felt when he stood tall as a dragon was gone without a trace. This man was broken. He couldn't imagine what Y/N had gone through, but he wouldn't let a warrior like him die a fool's death.

"It's true. You caused me a lot of trouble..."

The Dragonborn watched him with an apologetic expression. Geralt eyed him from head to toe, his stare burning.

"But instead of paying with your life, why not pay me with something else?"

Y/N blinked and stared blankly, then he blushed furiously. The witcher’s heart skipped a beat.

Did Y/N also...?

It excited Geralt that he apparently knew what he was hinting at and reacted this strongly. It meant he had a chance. Then he remembered the ring. Geralt examined the naked man and realized the necklace was gone.

"Your ring..."

Y/N touched his throat. Nothing was there. Geralt expected his face to turn panicked, but only a melancholic expression showed up.

"It's fine. It's time to move on."

The witcher didn't pry further, but he knew he didn't have to. The smile on Y/N's lips said enough.

"So, how am I supposed to repay you?"

The man lifted an eyebrow and grinned. He gulped, he didn't expect the man to be this willing. Suddenly he felt bad about his desires.

"Toss me a coin."

The warrior from Keizaal tilted his head and puckered his lips. Then he smiled, and his e/c eyes turned into crescents. They looked happy. But most importantly, human.

Warmth spread in his chest.

He had a thought that his future would be a lot more interesting with the dovahkiin by his side and Jaskier.

Wait...

Both of them opened their mouth and shouted:

“Jaskier!”

_______

Endnote: Congrats! You made it! Like I said at the beginning, this fic is based on a headcanon of mine. Where the dragonborn slowly turns into a dragon because of his dragon soul. The dovahkiin is able to live a lot longer than any other human due to his dragon nature and it’s taking a toll on him. The scales are something I had imagined from the start. This is a drawing of my dragonborn which I used as inspiration for this fic:

I wanted the story to end in a rather light tone which some might not find appropriate but I honestly got a little exhausted. I wrote this as a oneshot of 12k words, which was definitely too much xD Writing so much is new to me. But I’m proud that I made it this far :)

I wanted Yennefer to play a part here but more like the one of a former lover. She was also a tool to give Geralt a reason why he likes Y/N since he’s officially straight in canon.

I already decided to create a fic where Geralt gets taken to Skyrim but I haven’t decided if it’s going to be a sequel to this yet. We’ll see I guess.

Some sentences that were spoken in Dovahzul were purposely not translated because it was either from Geralt’s sight or it was to show that the dragonborn was slowly changing. But they meant the following:

Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok = My soul sings for you. Who are you? You are not him (as in Farkas).

Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin = My Sword slays dragons not help them

Thank you for reading and being patient with me :D

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Reacts: You Surprise them with Flowers

Fluffy Friday. Enjoy <3

Jin: Jin walks through the door to your home. “Jagiya! I’m home,” he shouts as he takes off his shoes. He hears nothing in return and then realizes your shoes and purse are missing so you must still be at work. He frowns; he had gotten off early to celebrate your anniversary and he thought you also might have. He notices a light floral fragrance filling the air and walks through the foyer into the main living room. He instantly sees two vases of roses sitting on the coffee table. “I didn’t order flowers,” he thinks to himself and he walks over to inspect them. He sees a pink envelope laying next to them “Jinnie <3” He blushes as he opens the envelope. “Happy 2nd Anniversary Jinnie baby!! These flowers are almost as good looking as you. ALMOST. I Love You!!!! See you tonight! PS I bet they match the color of your ears right now. Right?” “Aish…” Jin said, feeling his ears and neck turn red. He takes a selfie and sends it to you, “You were right. <3 See you tonight.”

Suga/Yoongi: The guys were backstage getting their hair and makeup done. Yoongi was over it. He was tired from the press tour and the concerts and he missed you so much. He scrolled through his phone looking at pictures of you and of the two of you together. A sad sigh escaped his lips. “Excuse me!” a voice pipe through the room, “I have a flower delivery.” Namjoon walked over to meet the delivery person. “Oh how nice, someone sent us flowers.” He takes the bouquet and looks at the card. “Actually,” he walks over and hands them to Yoongi who hasn’t even looked up from his phone, off in his own world. “Someone sent this guy flowers,” he thrusts them into Yoongi’s lap. “What the hell?” he asks confused with a pout on his face. But then he sees the card with his name on it and opens it up, “I miss you so much babe! I can’t wait to see you again next month, until then xoxoxo” He looks at the bouquet of flowers, forget-me-nots and for a brief moment, his smile appears.

JHope/Hobi: “Just relax, we’re almost there!” you reassure your boyfriend as you continue to drive the car away from Seoul and into the countryside. He of course has no idea because he is blindfolded. You feel a little like a creep but you know it will be worth it. “How can I relax? I’m so excited!” he says, his infectious smile spreading across his face. “Just ten more minutes!” you grab his hand and squeeze it. “You know, I could get used to this blindfold thing,” he says, teasing you as he intertwines your fingers. He can’t see you blush, but you are sure he knows the effect he’s having on you. You arrive at your destination, the car slowing to a stop. “Can I take this off now?” he asks, his hands moving up to the blindfold. “No!” you yell. “I need you to keep it on for like 2 more minutes, I promise!” you walk out and open his door for him and gently lead him to the surprise. “Ok. Now you can take it off!” you say. He removes the blindfold and finds himself surrounded by a field of Sunflowers. His hands fly up to his mouth. “What is this? This is amazing!” “It’s a sunflower field. Well...technically a sunflower maze. Since you give everyone so much sunshine I thought this would be perfect for me to give to you.” “I love it!” he pulls you close and kisses you. “Wait, did you say it’s a maze?”

Rm/Namjoon: Namjoon was taking a break at the studio, scrolling through instagram when he saw a picture that caught his eye. It was a photo that looked just like his commissioned bonsai painting hanging up in his home but with another painting next to it. “Hmmm I wonder if the artist painted another one?” he wondered. But as he looked closer at the picture, he came to realize that it was his wall and that was his painting. What the hell? He texts you, “Did someone from the art studio come by and take a picture of the bonsai painting? It’s on instagram and it definitely looks like it’s at our house but there’s another painting next to it????” You look at your phone and look up at the wall. Shit. You had commissioned a painting to accompany it by the same artist as a surprise and he had posted it before you were able to show Namjoon. Uggghhhh. It wasn’t the artists fault, he didn’t know that Joon hadn’t been home yet this week. “That’s weird. What does the other painting look like?” you evasively respond. “Flowers. Lots of flowers. It does compliment the other painting well though. Maybe we should ask him about it?” You breathe out a sigh of relief as you text back, “You should recognize them, they’re clematis <3 And it IS our living room. It was supposed to be an early birthday surprise soooo SURPRISE!!! XD XD” “haha really? Well, I love it and can’t wait to see it in person this weekend (and you!)”

V/Taehyung: Taehyung was on tour during his birthday again this year. You were sad you weren’t able to fly in and surprise him, but you were looking forward to him getting his present which you had coordinated with Jimin and the agency to make sure it arrived in the correct city on the correct day. You had not anticipated he would open it on VLive. You were watching as you wanted to feel like you were celebrating with them. The boys brought out a birthday cake for him and they all sang. They looked tired and happy, the usual when they were on tour. “Thank you everyone. Thank you ARMY, thank you to my parents, thank you [y/n]. Thank you all for supporting me another year.” He waved and made cute faces for the camera and then some awkward ones as well because of who he was. “Actually,” Jimin says, “We have a gift here from [y/n] for you.” Suddenly you are very embarrassed and wish you weren’t watching. Let’s let hundreds of thousands of strangers see what you got your super hot famous boyfriend. Oh God. But his smile was the sweetest, shyest thing ever as he took the package from Jimin so you continued watching even though you wanted to die. “Really? All the way from Korea?” He asks. He takes his phone out and texts you “Are you watching?” you cringe as you respond “Yes <3” He opens the box and you are glad it’s at least nothing sexual or super weird. Out pop hundreds of origami flowers. Carefully folded in various shades of purple, red, and pink. “OOOOoo” the other guys remark as the flowers fall through the hotel conference room. “Beautiful. Did she fold all of these?” Jin asks. Tae smiles as he texts you that same question. You respond. Tae reads your response out loud. “Yes. There are 365 flowers in the box. I folded one each day since your last birthday. The red ones have messages on them as well.” collective awws and “how sweet” fill the room and the Vlive comments fill up with hearts. “Thank you [y/n] I love them and I love you.”

Jungkook: JK was currently snuggled up on your couch, drifting in and out of sleep. Jin and Jimin had just left him at your apartment after they had taken him to have his wisdom teeth removed. He had been out of his damn mind at first but now he was just a cute drooly baby. You returned from the store with more pain medicine, ice cream, gauze, and flowers. You had never taken care of someone before really, but this stuff always made you feel better. You head over to the adorable lump on the couch and snuggle up next to him. “Hey,I’m back. You need to take more medicine, it’s been 4 hours” you gently nudge him. “Mmmm k…” he manages to get out with all the gauze still packed in his mouth. You walk back over to the kitchen and return with a glass of water and your supplies, handing him the pills and water while you arrange the ice cream and flowers on the table. You also go and grab a blanket and stuffed Cooky for maximum comfort. When you come back out to the couch he is crying, “You go me fwower?” “oh my gosh why are you crying? Does it hurt?” you rush over to him. “I wuv fwower. I wuv you” You laugh as you realize he’s still high from the medicine. “ I love you too and I’m glad you like them babe. Now let’s eat some ice cream and rest,” you push his hair back gently and kiss him on the forehead.

Jimin: You were so excited to go to the festival today! Jimin had bought coordinating hanbok for the two of you to wear and you were going to surprise him by making flower crowns for everyone. Well. In theory you were. But in actuality you were surrounded by petals and greenery that were not going together at all. You felt your tears welling up in frustration. Damn it, you softly whispered as the flowers once again came undone. You hear a knock on the door and go to answer it. It’s Jimin. He’s early and there are zero flower crowns. “Are you ok?” he asks, seeing the sadness in your face. “Do we need to skip the festival?” “No,” you shake your head sadly and open your apartment door all the way, showing the flower explosions. To his credit, he tries not to laugh. He really does. But that just makes you start to laugh as well. Soon the two of you are giggling as you try to show him how bad you are at making them. “See? I’m worse than Jin.” you say, “his was ugly but it stayed together.” you laugh-cry at the sad pile of leaves in your hand. “Oh jagiya, it’s ok. Here, let me help you.” he takes the flowers into his hands and manages to weave them into a beautiful crown. “You’re so talented.” you say and shyly smile as he places the crown on your head. He gently kisses you, “you look beautiful.”

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts reactions #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fics #bts scenarios #bts x reader

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

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MultiVillain x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: Okay, so this is how it goes. Reader’s in love with (Villain), and (Villain) is in love with them… but no one ever said it out loud, and now Reader is marrying someone else.

Includes: Napoleon Boneparte (Misc), Human!Oogie Boogie (Disney Villain), Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham), Slenderman (Creepypasta), The Clown (Horror Villains)

Warnings: Alcohol intake, talk and hints towards murder of course, and swearing.

Notes:

Inspired by ‘Marry Me’ (Either by Thomas Rhett [The guy’s POV which is what this will be in] or Elle Mears [Your POV, if you wanna see how Reader’s thinking]) and I recommend you listen while you read! ^^

I’m so happy!! I finally wrote something more then headcanons for Oogie! And this is also my first time writing for the Clown, so be easy on me XD

I hope you like this- I for one, am actually pretty proud of it!

~~~

Napoleon Boneparte (You’re having a nighttime wedding- you made this decision of course so your friend and secret soulmate could attend):

She wants to get married, she wants it perfect She wants her grandaddy preaching the service Yeah, she wants magnolias out in the country Not too many people, save her daddy some money

Before walking into the church, I halt a moment at the side so others may get inside by me. This will be hard. I need a moment, just a moment… to pull myself together. It would be very bad, if I were to panic as Y/N makes their way down the aisle.

Hand on the church, more to hold myself together rather then to hold myself up. Am I doing the right thing? Should I be here? Should I leave? That stupid Capone said I might not be able to control myself and will object when the preacher asks… he’s not right, is he? It’s true, I don’t feel entirely under my own control right now…. But I need to be here. To support Y/N on their big day.

… I do love them, far more than any man every should a nearly married person, and even if I can’t have them for myself, I would, happy, do very near anything to make them happy.

So, if… If they want me here, as they said they do… Then I have to go in. I can’t chicken out now. I am the great Napoleon Boneparte. I can attend a wedding. Bon dieu.

Viva La France.

I can do this.

Forward!

As soon as I walk in, it is as if I am strolling into Y/N’s mind. This is just as they always wanted, with a few obvious added things by the other one that’s getting married today, like the chiselled cat head mahogany chairs… not that I think Y/N would disapprove if they weren’t, in fact, kind enough to just agree right away, seeing as it isn’t only their day.

The white makes a beautiful backdrop for their chosen accent colour, and the people in the room are exactly who I would imagine to accompany Y/N in her daily life, when I cannot be there. There’s not a sour, or in any way unexcited and unencouraging expression in the place.

Honestly, with my whole heart, wish I could feel the same as them.

Then Y/N comes into the room, and steals the breath right out of my chest. Like always.

Human!Oogie Boogie:

Ooh, she got it all planned out Yeah, I can see it all right now

I'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back I'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask

Christ, what kinda shindig is this?? I’ve asked everyone and their cat, including somebodies’ mother who looks like a cat, to play a tiny game of Blackjack with me while we wait for the main event, but nothing! Nada! What’s wrong with these people? Are they dying to just sit around and contemplate their loneliness until the two hosts get hitched??

I, for one, am not playing that game today.

Of course, I’m also avoiding Y/N at all costs so maybe I’m not the best example of a man controlling his emotions.

“Oogie!”

My shoulders seize up visibly, at Y/N’s voice behind me and I stop shuffling my cards. I only decide to turn around and face them like a man, when they give up waiting and round me so I can see their beaming face.

Oh, they look so happy.

That’s nice… in a terrible, heartbreaking, awful kind of way.

“Heya, Y/N. You look great!” I start shuffling the cards again in my hand, distracting my hands from and refraining myself from, taking their hand and kissing it, or pulling them into a hug. If I did that, I think theirs an acute possibility I would end up saying something we would both regret, in a moment of determination… and devastation, of course. Can’t forget that.

Really, I can’t. It’s a very prominent feeling right now in my chest, just being here. Just knowing this is happening.

“Thank you!” They beam wider, and oh Jesus. They’re so beautiful when they look happy- I wish I could make them this happy.

… But that’s all the other guy. The one they’re hitching.

They run their bottom lip through their teeth, looking down at the cards in my hands and then smirking in that mischievous way that always somehow makes this blackheart’s insides clench up. In a good way, but still. Tilting their head, they look back up at my face. “Had no luck getting anyone to bet with you yet?”

I let out a deep, theatrical sigh full of frustration. “No! Your guests all suck, Y/N.”

“Even you?”

“No, not me. I’m the King.”

“Right,” They laugh, then goes and sits down at a nearby table. “Well we have 10 minutes until I have to go get ready to walk- I’ll play you if you want!”

My heart pops like a balloon, and goes flying, wheezing around in my rib cage as I just smile at them for a good moment- unmarried, and free, and mine. For ten to fifteen more minutes. Hell yeah, I’m going to sit down and play with them.

Why aren’t I telling them not to? I wonder, as I deal us both cards and they pick theirs up and make cheeky ‘Hmmm’ sounds to throw me off. Why don’t I tell them, right now, how I feel? Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I here, is also a valid question but I already beat myself up over that last night when I was picking out my tie. I’m her friend, and they deserve to be… yuck. Happy, with the person they chose.

And I guess, that’s the answer to all my other questions too.

Let me just enjoy this last game, this last 600 seconds with them.

Oswald Cobblepot:

I remember the night when I almost kissed her Yeah, I kinda freaked out, we'd been friends for forever And I always wondered if she felt the same way When I got the invite, I knew it was too late

And I know her daddy's been dreading this day Oh, but he don't know he ain't the only one giving her away

As soon as Y/N leaves my side to go and freshen up for the aisle walk, I find myself a seat in the very back of the church / auditorium and rest in for the event. I will not be moving from this hidden away spot, in convenient shadow, with my secret flask of terrible smelling stuff that Victor gave me before arriving, until this shitshow is over and I can leave.

I’m only here in the first place, because Y/N asked me. And, evidently, my idiocy runs deep because I accepted such an invitation. I will do anything, for them. I learnt my lesson in dealing in peoples love lives, with Edward and Isobel- I will not let my relationship with Y/N go as badly as that one did, with Ed.

So if I must sit here and watch them marry that moron, (Fiancé’s Name), then that is what I’ll do. But I won’t sit in the front and watch it, and I will be as drunk as whatever this drink can make me.

Maybe I should text Victor, the deadly assassin, and ask what the contaminants are…

An unevolved, ap-like woman walks past my seat and I must be too close to the aisle because I can hear her yap like a strangled cat about what a cute couple Y/N and (Fiancé’s Name) are together and how they must be soulmates, and I don’t think twice before gulping down a huge mouthful of the alcohol. If this is how I die, then so be it, I think bitterly as I slide further down the aisle.

“Fuck!” The word comes out of me before I can stop it, my face probably the picture of horror and disgust. This… drink, if I can even call it that -more of an undiluted acid, if you ask me, - tastes like regret and earwax.

The same ape-like woman from before flashes a stern, disapproving look at me like she thinks she’s my mother, and I show her my middle finger. Uncouth, yes, but affective. This is a bad day, and I am in no mood to deal with bitches like her. She quickly looks away, and I take another, smaller, sip of the drink.

Another moment passes and the wedding doesn’t seem to be even a second closer to ending, so I sit up straight and close my eyes, holding the flask in my lap. Take me back to a better time…

In the silent, middle-of-the-conversation lapse moment, I allow myself to look down at Y/N’s mouth. They have a soft smile, left over from whatever we were just talking about, on their face as they sit comfortably in our silence and I suddenly feel total confidence. They’re here, with me, instead of off with that boy toy / girl toy / gender neutral or fluid toy. They’re with me. That must mean that I mean something to them, right? And Ed said they looked at me like… like, they love me. Or ‘care deeply’, as he put it. But we all know that was just his stiff version of the word ‘love’. Ever since Isobel… had her unfortunate accident… he’s been focused on one emotion only and it is not, love.

Anyway, the confidence spreads through me and I smile. It mixes with my perpetual desire to kiss them, and goddamnit, I should do it. I should just lean over and press a gentle kiss on their mouth- if they aren’t interested or pull away, I can blame it on the wine between us. If not…

Butterflies erupt in my stomach and my chest, and I’ve just lean an inch forward… when their phone rings on the table and I see (Boyfriends Name) flash on the screen.

I rush to lean completely back in my chair, as they answer. I don’t like to believe fate has anything to do with Gotham, but… that was entirely too close.

My eyes snap open and I roll my shoulders back, inhaling another, bigger slug of the contents of the flask and feel even angrier.

That was, most certainly not a better time, you nitwit.

Slenderman:

Bet she got on her dress now, welcoming the guests now

I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now But I ain't gonna mess it up, so I'll wish her the best now

I’ve been sitting in the back of this church, a place I likely shouldn’t ever enter in the first place -Well, at least I’m not Offender. I would probably burn to death, in that scenario, - for over 2 hours and I only got to see Y/N for 45 and a half minutes of that time.

Not that that really matters. Its more important that they see me. I certainly don’t want to see them. I don’t wish to see them, or their wedding clothes, or their wedding guests, or the stupid moony smiles on their faces, or the cake, or their partner. Definitely not their partner. If they show their face before they absolutely have to, or worse, talk to me, I will promptly go home and kill 30 people. I don’t want to be here.

I shouldn’t be here, in fact. If I were a good man, I wouldn’t be here. A good man would never turn up to a wedding that he know’s he’s just going to sit back in and think unholy, too-fond and too-angry thoughts about one of the marriage participants. Marriage is supposedly a sacred thing, and if I were this good man that I’m thinking about, I wouldn’t urinate on it like this.

But I am not a good man.

So, really, what would I know about what a good man, would do in the first place?

Enough thinking about good men, it’s making me queasy and very uncomfortable.

I don’t look around, but I can infer with general certainty, that Y/N will be welcoming all her other guests now that I ‘allowed’ -Not that I could have stopped them. They just didn’t want to leave me in my own company,- them to let me be alone here. And they’re in their wedding clothes, which look lovely on them, and their smiling and their giddy.

Giddy. Ugh, I hate that word, especially in this sense. Defined by the Cambridge English Dictionary as ‘feeling silly, happy, and excited and showing this in your behaviour’. And by the Oxford, to ‘Make (Someone) feel excited to the point of disorientation.’. Yes, I looked up these definitions and memorised them before I came, and loathe every single word, in that order.

Because apparently, as if it wasn’t already obvious by the very fact that I’m HERE, I hate myself.

This other person has made Y/N giddy, while I have to sit here and pretend, I’m happy for them both and that I don’t feel like vomiting for the first time in 5 centuries.

But I can’t do anything about it, because I love them, Y/N, and I will… I will not, allow myself to be the reason their wedding wasn’t perfect. So, I wish them the best.

Or I try my damn hardest to.

The Clown / Jeffry Hawk / Kenneth Chase:

So I'm in my black suit, black tie, hiding out in the back Doing a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask I'll try to make it through without crying so nobody sees Yeah, she wanna get married Yeah, she gonna get married But she ain't gonna marry me

I don’t know if I’d call this a real wedding. For one, its in the entities realm so how ‘magical’ could it really be? And for another reason, the only white thing here is my grease paint. Its pretty laughable. I would laugh, in fact, if I didn’t know it would cause a coughing fit and bring attention to me as Y/N walks down the aisle- O don’t need them looking at me. I might accidentally blurt out an ‘oopsie’ or something not-at-all funny like that, with all the whiskey I’ve injected today. Not that that would be the biggest issue with these kids seeing that I’m here, in the first place. Only Y/N knows, I’m hiding by a tree.

But, I digress I guess. They’re calling it a wedding. The big one with the beard is officiating -I guess he has an online certificate from before he was brought here,- , Y/N’s wearing a pit of plastic bag on their head like a make shift veil / bit of plastic bag fashioned sort of like a tie, and all the lovely little fingers, or survivors as they like to call themselves, watch. With silly gleaming smiles and hope in their eyes- Pft, suckers.

Honestly the idea of weddings in the first place make me a bit uncomfortable. All those wide eyes watching and perving on your happiness?? Seems pretty creepy to me, and I’ve been told I’m pretty creepy myself! So, I would know!

The fact that possibly the sweetest, perfect person I’ve ever had the pleasure of setting my gaze upon is the one getting married, has absolutely no stake on my take on weddings in this moment.

Absolutely not…

Aha… hahahaha…

I kill myself.

I kill them, too, but let’s put that on the backburner like their fingers, for now.

Let me wallow in self-pity for a while longer before we start making jokes.

Yeah, let me… I take a swig of my flask -a bee-oootiful concoction of all the most toxic hootch I have in my collection, and maybe also some actual poison maybe since I wasn’t paying much attention when I created it this morning and I keep it all in relatively the same place, - and savour the horrible flavour on my tongue. Let me wallow, for a little bit.

This is going to be a bad day, for these little fuckers when I get into the game.

#napoleon x reader #NATM Napoleon Boneparte #Oogie Boogie x Reader #Human!Oogie Boogie #Oswald Cobblepot #Oswald Cobblepot x Reader #The Penguin #The Penguin x Reader #Slenderman #Slenderman x Reader #The Clown #The Clown x Reader #Kenneth Chase #Kenneth Chase x Reader #Jeffry Hawk #Jeffry Hawk x Reader #Drabbles #Drabble

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hitsuackerman · 5 years ago

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Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.3

a/n: I just saw a post with Overhaul without his jacket... BRUH. the infinite possibilities of--- yeah I’ll save that for the next parts XD enjoy the 3rd part :)

warnings: this cannot be read solo, cursing(?), subtle flirting

Links: part 1, part 2, part 4

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love

“Okay.” Tsukauchi said as he took the seat across from you. His outstretched hand returning the envelope he had cross-checked. “There really will be a gala at the said area at the said date.”

“Who are the possible plus ones I can bring?” You asked. Your eyes glued to your desktop. As of the moment, you were digging up some articles about one of the minor cases you were working on. Of course, you could skim through articles and talk to your workmate. It was as easy as breathing by now.

“There’s only 3 possible candidates.” He began to enumerate. “Me. Shinezu. Namase.”

“Shinezu?” You stopped reading and stared at him. “You’re kidding me right?”

“Perhaps~” He joked. “I mean it would be nice to bring him along and expose him to the outside world. The kid needs a social life. All locked up in his office. Only going out when absolutely necessary. The exposure would do him good.”

Your focus glided to Shinezu’s office. It wasn’t for you to judge but it was clear as day he was happy as a loner and would dread any sort of unwanted communication. The fact that he was even part of this small select group of people was a miracle itself. Though, you had to admire his intellect. Nothing went past him.

“I was actually planning on taking the man himself.” You broke the news. Somehow that sentence caused your heart to pick up its speed by a little. The sound of Tsukauchi’s chair rolling towards you caused a bit of discomfort. “Think about it. He has more ties than I will ever have and his quirk would surely intimidate the boss. It’s a gamble on my part as to how he would carry himself but he’s level-headed. So far.”

“You sure about that?” His voice was much nearer now.

“Nope.” There was no use in lying to this person. “I’m just pulling threads here. But, his title might draw me closer to the main goal here. Besides, I’d like to see him without that horrendous jacket.”

“You’re not being affected by his charm now, are you?” Tsukauchi pried as he slowly went back to his work space. “We all know just how manipulative he can get.”

Gathering a few folders and envelopes, you placed them onto your bag. Fixing your hair, you stood up and went towards his area. Leaning onto the partition, you fixed the strap of your bag and crossed your arms.

“I don’t like being interrogated, Nao.” You said. “But if it gives peace to your running mind, here is my answer. I’m being as cautious as I can be. There’s nothing more to it.”

You waited for a response but by the looks of it he was either using his quirk on you or he was satisfied with your answer. The latter, hopefully. Excusing yourself, you exited the precinct and looked for the nearest coffee shop. If there was one thing the office needed, it was better coffee.

Your nearest bet was a 5 minute walk from where you stood. Looking at your watch, you had a couple of minutes to spare before interviewing a few civilians. Beginning your short walk, your mind drifted back to the plus one. Tsukauchi didn’t give you the go signal for it. Was this now all on you or would you have to consult him one more time?

Your hand was now fiddling with your phone in your pocket. Trying to single out the possibilities were rather tricky. The neon sign for the shop was now above you. You had been so lost in thought that you failed to realize you had arrived at your destination. Leaning on the door, you dragged yourself in and waited in line.

With the events going on, this called for a sweet drink. Something with chocolate in it. A sugar rush was something you needed.

You were currently the 3rd person in line. Pulling your phone out, you checked for any notifications. There was one. Clicking it open, it stated that the meeting you scheduled to have for next week had been pushed to today. Picturing your schedule, you had some free time later in the afternoon. Nodding, you sent out a reply and moved a step forward.

The day had just begun and things were starting to become busy. Thank gods the coffee shop smelled amazing. The exposed beans generously spread out its aroma around the cafe. Soft jazz music played in the background, enough to blend in with the buzzing chit chats of customers. A hint of mayoram and geranium gifted your sense of smell.

‘Wait..’ Your eyes began to scan the area. There was only one person whose wallet could afford such a scent.

“For an officer,” Overhaul said from behind you. “You’re quite slow.”

Pivoting, you were face to face with him. A new and very identical jacket replacing the old one. However, there was something off about his look today. His golden orbs simply stared back at you. Taking in your puzzled features. Then it hit you. A gasp escaped your mouth.

“Did the bird fly away or is this a new look?” He was without the bird beak. Instead, a simple black mask covered the lower half of his face. What was he hiding underneath that mask? Did he have a scar on his lip? A burn? If his eyes were breathtaking, what could possibly even out such a marvel? Subtly, you shook your head. What in the world were you thinking?

“I choose whether or not to wear the mask.” He replied. His latex wrapped hands motioning you to move forward. “This is one of the cleanest cafes that live up to my standards. It may not look like it but the smell of coffee beans are rather attractive.”

“It’s been a while, (Y/N)!” The employee greeted you. She giggled at how she broke your train of thought. It was something she barely got to see after all. “Will you have the usual?”

“Uh, N-no. For today, I’d like a choco chip supreme with less ice.” Your cheeks began to burn up as you had stuttered. Reaching for your wallet, you felt a foot gently kicking you. Looking up at the source, you stepped aside and waited for his move.

“2 Americano’s.” Overhaul ordered. In the corner of his eyes, he saw how your cheeks were beginning to turn a faint shade of red. As expected, this was interesting for him. “I’ll pay for her order as well.”

“You don’t have to.” You put up your palms and were only met with silence as he handed the payment.

“Put it under her name.” He instructed the employee to which she agreed. When both of you were given the line to wait for your orders, Overhaul signed for you to follow him to a vacant table near the window. Pulling the seat, he waited for you to sit down. To which you did.

“What do you want, Overhaul?”

“Can I not spend time with the person I’m assisting?” His hands remained on his lap. Sure, the table was clean but he wasn’t taking chances. Glancing at the window, his stare glued to the black car parked across the street. He could imagine Chrono inside slowly losing his patience. “I merely wanted an update for your plus one.”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“Bring the first person that pops in your mind.” He tilted his head once more. “Isn’t that how you people think?”

“So you’re not a person?”

“I’m clean compared to you.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a clean person.” You pouted and pointed your index at him. The way his eyes widened with fear at the possible contamination was rather amusing. “You just wouldn’t know because you're afraid of dust. I bet your immune system is low.”

“Hmph. On the contrary, my health is pristine and well taken care of. I simply choose not to touch filthy people like you. I do make exceptions every now and then.”

“They must be blessed.” You rolled your eyes and the sound of your name broke through the jazz and chatter. “Well, make yourself useful and get our orders.”

“Of course.”

That had to make you wonder. He did not flinch, show any signs of annoyance, or even scoff at your command. Instead, Overhaul silently lifted his chair and made his way towards the counter. Seeing him bow as he received the beverages was weird. For someone who murders people, he sure is polite when it comes to mannerisms. Perhaps, those traits of his were already present. Even before becoming a villain.

When he sat back down, he took a tissue and wrapped it around your cold drink. Placing it in front of you along with the straw.

“Be my plus one.” You blurted out. Your view focused on him.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He stood up and lowered his head. “I shall pick you up at 6. Is that fine?”

“Yeah.”

“If nothing else, I shall leave you be. Chronostasis must be fuming by now.” Before turning to leave, he had the audacity to add. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Following his body, you stared as he crossed the street and entered the same car he had been eyeing at.

Inside the car. Overhaul closed his eyes and listened to the small complaints his companion had. The visit to the shop was never intended but when he saw your figure walking down the street and entering the quaint shop, the decision to stop the car only caused Chrono to wonder.

Handing him the bird mask, he watched as his boss wore the contraption.

“Send the RSVP later.” He instructed. His voice muffled once again. “Use the alias we usually hand out for events like this. And call in the tailor. I’ll be needing a new suit.”

“That woman has taken your interests.” He commented.

“No.”

“Then why bother following her?”

“I did not follow her, Kurono.” He corrected his assistant. “It was merely chance running into her at this time of day. Besides, it’s amusing how she does not seem to hold such fear when I am around.”

Curling the sleeves of his jacket, he observed his skin. Not a sign of breakouts. In his subtle attempts to place himself close to you, he had come to the conclusion that you were relatively pure. Save for your quirk of course.

Speaking of quirk, there were still no updates regarding that information. Imagining the sum of money the Abegawa Tenchu Kai had to pay to keep that hidden was something he had to praise. The same could be said for his real name. Did you even know what his name was? Or were you left with redacted articles regarding that?

Closing his eyes once more, his thoughts went to the headquarters where his experiments were now running a bit late. Still, a few minutes delay was something he could live by.

Meanwhile, you were now preparing what explanation to give Tsukauchi. You had already given him a reasonable explanation as to why you would want to go with Overhaul. It also wouldn’t be the first time you would inform him of such unconventional choices you made. Ruffling your hair, you clicked your tongue and took a deep sip. “Uhm, (Y/N)?”

From the window, your view shifted to the employee. In her hand was a tray with a blueberry cheesecake. A shy smile resting on her feminine features. Scratching her nape, she let out an awkward giggle.

“The man told me to give you this after he left.” She said as she placed the dessert on the shiny brown surface.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” You stared at the cheesecake and immediately took your phone. Looking for the unknown number, you were only hoping that this was his personal number and not one that would alert the whole Shie Hassaikai. Sending the message with a rapidly beating heart, you cursed yourself for feeling this way.

To calm you down, you scrolled a little further and finally dialed your partner.

“Nao. I’m taking Bird boy with me.”

A long sigh was heard on the other side of the call. If you could bet money, you were sure he was massaging the bridge of his nose and leaning onto his chair.

“As much as I do not trust him, that would have to be the best decision for now,”

That went… smoother than you had initially thought.

“What’d you just gather?” Curiosity lacing your voice.

“A lot of big names are invited but we noticed that a handful of them are villains. Notably Akuji, Nokusu, and if our records are right, Tamisura.”

“Shit.”

----

are yall enjoying the story so far? :’) comment or message me if you want to be a part of Overhaul’s waiting list or any questions about the story :)

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #he is garbage but here i am simping him so much

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ibijau · 4 years ago

Text

Burn it down AU // on AO3 // extras on AO3

For the first time in years, Lan Wangji looks forward to the future with anticipation rather than dread

(aka: epilogue time! Thanks to everyone who read this story, hope you enjoyed it and that I didn’t forget to tie up any loose thread. If I did... oops, my bad, too late XD)

Less than two months after the death of Jin Guangyao, Lan Xichen left his sect in the hands of his uncle and urgently took flight for Qinghe after getting a letter from Nie Huaisang. Lan Wangji, A-Yuan and Wei Wuxian followed only a few days after, after packing their belongings so they could stay in the Unclean Realm for a few weeks, or even a few months if it came to that.

In his letter, Nie Huaisang had confessed to finding his mood swinging, as it had done before Lan Xichen started playing music for him, and so his family and friends wanted to be around him to support him. Besides, Lan Wangji had a faint fear that Wei Wuxian was growing restless in the Cloud Recesses, and travelling could only do him good.

It took them some time to reach the Unclean Realm. A-Yuan had still not yet learned to fly on a sword, though he probably would start lessons during their visit. And while Wei Wuxian could, he confessed to feeling awkward about doing it in this weaker body, with a sword that wasn't his. It was quickly decided that for him too some lessons wouldn't hurt, which Lan Wangji would only be too happy to provide.

By the time they reached the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang already appeared to be doing better than he had claimed in his letter. He was smiling brightly when he welcomed them at the gate, Lan Xichen at his side.

Lan Wangji, A-Yuan and Wei Wuxian were quickly ushered inside the Unclean Realm and brought to Nie Huaisang’s personal quarters. While Nie Huaisang hugged A-Yuan and demanded news, servants brought them some much welcome hot tea and took away their damp coats. They’d encountered a little bit of snow earlier than morning, which wasn’t unusual for that time of the year and that region.

"Oh you'll have to stay the winter now," Nie Huaisang announced with great satisfaction. "It would be unreasonable to travel in this season. Dangerous even! And I cannot allow you to put my A-Yuan in danger, so you'll all have to stay."

A-Yuan, hugging his step-father's waist, nodded firmly, but Lan Xichen smiled and came to pat his lover's shoulder.

"I probably should go home though, now that you are in the capable hands of your husband," he said in an odd tone.

It took Lan Wangji a moment to realise that his brother, always so serious and stern in spite of his eternal smile, was teasing Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang himself must have been more used to it, because he immediately reacted in sort.

"Zewu-Jun, how dare you!" he gasped theatrically. "I am sick, terribly so, and you would abandon me and leave me in the hands of an inferior musician, risking my very life?" Nie Huaisang paused, and glanced at his husband. "No offence, Wangji."

Lan Wangji only hummed to signify he knew better than to take that seriously, while both Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian tried to contain their hilarity. Even A-Yuan, after an initial moment of worry, realised that Nie Huaisang was just messing around, and started taking the defence of his father’s skills. Before long Nie Huaisang, confronted also by Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian, was forced to give a very theatrical apology to his husband.

Once they were done joking around, A-Yuan was asked to play quietly while the adults traded news, with the promise that if he were good, Nie Huaisang would take him to see his birds later. The child quickly agreed, and left the four of them alone at the table.

The first news to be shared whas the reason for Nie Huaisang’s slight relapse. Jiang Cheng had come to the Unclean Realm to demand that Wei Wuxian’s possessions be handed to him, which had quickly turned into a huge fight about Nie Huaisang endangering Jin Ling by not revealing immediately what he’d found out about Jin Guangyao. Heavy accusations had been thrown on both sides, and while Nie Huaisang had managed to hold his own and kept everything confiscated, the confrontation had shaken him badly enough that he’d thought it best to call for help.

“He’ll probably be back when the weather allows for easier travel,” Nie Huaisang sighed, leaning against Lan Xichen who wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. “I think for now he doesn’t know yet about Wen Qionling, but when he finds out…”

He shivered at the thought, while Lan Wangji wrinkled his nose at the idea. No matter how good Nie Huaisang was at keeping his old friend’s temper in check, this would surely be too much.

“How is Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian eagerly asked. “Did you hide him somewhere?”

“I am not able to be as good a host to him as I would prefer,” Nie Huaisang confessed. “We have a safe house, a few hours away from here, where disciples can rest and get provisions and necessities if trouble arises. I’ve sent him here, with some of the items obtained from Jin Guangyao’s secret chamber. Most of it was yours, Wei-xiong, but there were also spoils of wars from the Sunshot Campaign, among which ancient Wen texts. Wen gongzi has expressed the wish to study and copy them, to which I had no objections.”

Whatever resentment Wei Wuxian still held against Nie Huaisang for the murder of Mo Xuanyu, he instantly relaxed at hearing that Wen Ning was being treated well.

“Can we go visit him?”

“Not today, it’s too late for that,” Nie Huaisang said. “But as soon as we get a day of decent weather… he has expressed interest in meeting A-Yuan, by the way.”

All four of them turned to look at the child who had grabbed a book from Nie Huaisang’s library and was now reading it with such concentration that he did not notice he was now the center of attention.

“It will be difficult to explain to him who Wen Ning is,” Wei Wuxian sighed, tearing his eyes away from their son. “He’s a clever boy, he’s going to ask questions, but it’s probably best if he doesn’t know…”

“Wei-xiong, you like secrets too much,” Nie Huaisang cut him, startling Wei Wuxian. “Meanwhile, I’m tired of them. A-Yuan is a very clever boy, he can understand some things can only be spoken about with family, and he already remembers more than he lets on, I suspect. Have some faith in the people around you, Wei-xiong.”

“Nie-xiong, you’ve gotten very bold while I was dead, I’m almost impressed,” Wei Wuxian retorted. “Lan Zhan, what do you think?”

Lan Wangji hesitated, his eyes jumping several times between Wei Wuxian, Nie Huaisang and A-Yuan before he could make a decision.

“No objection to them meeting,” he said at last. “If it goes well, A-Yuan should be told.”

“If Lan Zhan agrees, then so do I,” Wei Wuxian sighed, defeated.

Lan Wangji could not refrain a pleased smile at the thought that Wei Wuxian, in this new life, seemed to have more respect for his opinion than he ever had before. Or at least, that they had less trouble communicating their mutual respect, since perhaps it had always been there. He thought it bode well for the future, and that perhaps someday they would be able to discuss those things that had happened in the past, and the choices they had both made. Lan Wangji still did not understand why Wei Wuxian had dropped conventional cultivation in favour of more dangerous methods, but he had good hopes the other man would tell him when the time was right.

For the time being, the conversation shifted to less dangerous topics, such as Lan Qiren annoyance that both his nephews had deserted him. Lan Xichen expressed some regret over causing his uncle sorrow, but Lan Wangji felt little pity for him, and one glance told him that Nie Huaisang was of the opinion that Lan Qiren deserved to be made to suffer for what he had made them go through. They also discussed the latest news they’d heard from Lanling, where it was still unclear who would seize power, before chatting of their plans for the winter they would all be spending in the Unclean Realm.

It was, without a doubt, one of the most pleasant afternoons that Lan Wangji had ever experienced, all because his entire family was there with him.

Although winters were harsh this far North, Lan Wangji found himself quite happy with his time in the Unclean Realm.

As they had planned, A-Yuan was brought to meet Wen Ning. After the initial fright of encountering a fierce corpse this powerful, the two quickly found common ground and were soon chatting like old friends. Lan Wangji was already starting to wonder how to break the news of their shared blood when A-Yuan suddenly turned to his fathers and asked if he had met Wen Ning before. A-Yuan broke into tears when they explained the truth to him, and ran into Wen Ning’s arms to hug him tight, repeating again and again how happy he was to have even more family than he’d thought.

Because they could not risk bringing attention to Wen Ning, their visits to him remained few and far between. It did not stop A-Yuan from writing to him daily and bringing him a pile of letters each time they went to the safe house, so he would have something to keep him company while he was alone. Although it was impossible for Wen Ning to cry, being a fierce corpse, it was a near thing every time that A-Yuan showed how fully he had adopted his cousin back into his family.

The rest of the time, they all stayed mostly in the Unclean Realm. Having little else to do, Lan Wangji set out to teach A-Yuan how to fly on his sword, for which his son showed great skill. Before the snows melted, he was capable of making his sword hold his weight, keeping his balance on it, and even moving around a little, though only very slowly. The adults in his life all complimented him on his skill, and encouraged him to keep working hard so he would improve further. It helped, perhaps, that Wei Wuxian was following those lessons with him, still oddly awkward about using a sword even now that Suibian had been returned to him.

Lan Wangji couldn’t shake the impression that there was something there he wasn’t being told, but he tried his best not to probe. Wei Wuxian would be ready someday, and for now he did not want to risk pushing too hard and putting a dent in their friendship. They were getting along better and better as the winter passed. Although Wei Wuxian was by no means glued to his side, no matter how or where he spent his days he always returned to Lan Wangji at night and shared everything he’d done. Sometimes it was just normal cultivation, so he could give his new body a golden core. Other times he had gone off to do some mischief with junior Nie disciples, much to Nie Huaisang’s irritation who accused him of corrupting the youth. Lan Wangji’s favourite days were the ones they spent together, but he also liked hearing stories of Wei Wuxian living his own life, free and alive again.

Sometimes, when the mood struck him, Wei Wuxian seemed to get somewhat flirtatious with Lan Wangji. It was hard to say if it was in earnest or simply part of his personality, so Lan Wangji took it in stride and tried not to read too much into it. Wei Wuxian seemed very amused that his taunts no longer had the same effects they’d had in their youth, and kept looking for new ways to tease Lan Wangji who was just happy with the attention.

Perhaps someday it would lead to more, as it had for Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang who seemed happier than newlyweds and often appeared to forget that they were supposed to show some discretion. Or perhaps between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian there would never be more than teasing and an ever deepening friendship. Either options would make Lan Wangji equally happy, after those years of mourning.

All too soon, spring returned to the Unclean Realm, bringing with it the end of their happy insouciance.

Lan Xichen could no longer find excuses to remain in Qinghe now that the weather was warmer. It was obvious, anyway, that he had started feeling guilty at having abandoned his sect so long, refusing to become as uncaring and detached a sect leader as their father had been. For that reason he left the Unclean Realm as soon as the first warm spell of spring hit them, though not without making Nie Huaisang promise to visit him in the Cloud Recesses as soon as he could.

Fearful that this separation from his lover would have too much of an impact on Nie Huaisang’s mood, Lan Wangji decided to remain a little longer to check on him. After a few weeks though, it became obvious that Nie Huaisang had recovered almost entirely from the instability that had ailed him after his brother’s death. Not only that, but since he no longer had to hide from Jin Guangyao and knew that nobody in his sect would turn against him, Nie Huaisang set out to do better at his job, determined to improve the way Qinghe Nie was run so he would have more time in the future for his hobbies, as well as for visits to his lover.

Seeing him so determined to achieve this new, healthier goal, Lan Wangji found himself wondering what he wanted from life. He’d never had to think about it before, first because there had always been rules in his life to dictate his every action, and then later because the only thing he’d ever selfishly wanted had been taken from him. Things were different now, though, and it forced him to consider his future.

The idea of simply returning to the Cloud Recesses and staying there permanently did not sit quite right with him. It was his home, it always would be his home, but there was too much he had become critical of to be comfortable there, as well as too many tensions with his uncle. It would have been, then, easy to stay in the Unclean Realm. Nobody would have objected, since it was where his husband lived… but that solution did not sit right either. It would have been difficult to stay without letting A-Yuan cultivate with the Nie method, which Nie Huaisang had stated times and times again that he did not want, and which Lan Wangji disliked as well, having seen how even someone like Nie Huaisang could be so easily and deeply unbalanced after following that path.

With those two options eliminated, a third had to be considered. But before he could try to breach the subject with Wei Wuxian, the other man came to find him one day with a request

“Lan Zhan, I’ve been talking with Nie-xiong earlier and he asked me a favour,” Wei Wuxian explained after interrupting Lan Wangji’s meditation. “You see, he’s been hearing rumours about people going missing in a region away from here. It’s a place where there aren’t any sects to take care of those things. It’s also probably just some fierce corpses, and the area isn’t very rich, so rogue cultivators aren’t very likely to go there. But people are still in trouble, right? So I was wondering…”

“We’re going,” Lan Wangji interrupted, standing up from his meditative pose, already planning what they would need for the journey. Money, food, clothes… paper for talismans too, of course. All of which Nie Huaisang would gladly let them have. He wouldn’t have mentioned that issue to Wei Wuxian without reason.

Wei Wuxian stared at him, looking stunned, then threw himself at Lan Wangji’s neck to kiss his cheek.

“Lan Zhan, I knew I could count on you! And I was thinking, maybe we could take Wen Ning with us? It’d be good for him to get out of that safe house, he must be going crazy in there. And he’ll help us make sure that A-Yuan is safe, even if it’s more than fierce corpses over there! Would you allow it?”

A little dazzled by the kiss, Lan Wangji only managed to nod weakly. It was enough anyway. Wei Wuxian never needed more than the barest of encouragement when he had an idea in mind. He startled babbling about all the things they would need, then ran off to pester Nie Huaisang into giving them all of that.

Lan Wangji, for a moment, remained frozen where he stood. Very hesitantly he brought a hand to the cheek that Wei Wuxian had kissed, still feeling the warmth of those lips on his skin.

It had been nice, he thought, to travel with Wei Wuxian when they were looking for Nie Mingjue’s body. It would be nicer still to do so with A-Yuan at their side and, yes, even Wen Ning who Lan Wangji thought he might easily become friends with, now that the occasion was given to them. They would take care of this problem, and of the next one they would encounter, until they felt like going home to either Qinghe or Gusu where they would rest for a time until some other cry for help reached them…

The thought made Lan Wangji smile.

It would be nice to be with his family, and to finally be happy.

#wangxian #xisang #lan wangji #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #mdzs #jau writes #burn it down au #still need to do the lwj/nhs extra but on the whole this story is done yay /o/#I'm sorry that the wangxian is still very low-key but really they're taking it slow #and I tried to make it clear that it's still going to happen once wwx feels ready for it #but aaaaah finally I can take this off of my list of wips yay XD

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fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

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The colour of love

This story was prompted by an awesome anon! I loved that idea and I hope it’s fluffy enough XD

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘Hey, tin-can, good work out there!’, Gavin told him with a grin as they entered the car. ‘We showed this phcker once and for all not to mess with the police, haven’t we? God, we are an awesome team, how could I ever tell Fowler I didn’t want a partner?’ Nines stared at him and he knew he was still on an adrenaline-high. But he didn’t care, their suspect was on his way to the station and both of them were still alive and unscathed. Gavin evaded his gaze and started the engine, shaking his head in confusion. Had his LED just been pink? He looked at it again, disguising the action as watching for oncoming cars. There it was, blue as the sky. He must have been mistaken.

But the following weeks he thought to have seen it a few more times. But Gavin couldn’t detect a pattern to it. It had been multiple times after he had complimented the toaster or their work. But also, after he had tried to open a new package of coffee-pads and failed. Sometimes it was when the tin-can had just stared into the air for prolonged times. It had also happened once after Gavin inspected a scratch from a criminal’s blade in the station’s bathroom and Nines had walked in on him without his shirt. All these incidents were so random, Gavin couldn’t find a connection for the life of him, so he just settled on Nines experimenting with his LED. Deviancy allowed that, right?

So, when Nines once again stared at a wall form his desk with a vacant look on his face and the LED pink again, Gavin sat down opposite to him and teased: ‘Try green next! Pink just lets you look cute and unintimidating.’ Nines flinched back to reality and seemed utterly confused. ‘What?’ ‘Your LED. It’s pink. I honestly didn’t think they could do other colours, but it’s cool. Let’s you experiment a bit.’ ‘I… err… Yes. Yes, experimenting… Sorry, did you need something? I was a bit… preoccupied.’ ‘Nah, just wondering. Hey, maybe orange looks good on you too?’ ‘Hmm.’

Nines spent a lot of time in front of the mirror once he was home that day. What did the man mean, his LED was blue like it had always been. Gavin must be seeing things. Nines eyes went wide. There was the pink flicker. Gavin. Pink flicker.

‘Connor, emergency, what does it mean when your LED is pink?’ Nines hadn’t even known he had called the RK800 until he said these words. ‘What? I don’t know; how do you feel?’, Connors answer came, confused by the sudden conversation start. ‘When does it happen?’ ‘When I think about Gavin.’ There was a beat of silence, then a sigh: ‘Oh damn. Why him?’ ‘I don’t know, why does it do that?’ ‘Listen, err… I had this too – still have – when I’m with… Hank…’ ‘Oh.’ Oh. Nines blushed, the urge to hang up immediately growing. ‘Okay, thank you Connor.’ ‘Still, why him? You surely could do bett-‘ ‘Thank you, Connor.’ Well. This was awkward.

He leaned against a wall and looked out of a window. Now that he thought about it it wasn’t that far-fetched. He chuckled. Best processor Cyberlife could design and he had still needed Connor to figure this out. Had thought it was a malfunction! He shook his head in disbelief.

He thought about Gavin, his LED pink in his reflection in the glass immediately. He was intelligent, he was a capable officer, they made a good team at work. He was funny. He was independent. Nines wouldn’t want anyone else as a partner and the thought of seeing Gavin with someone else made his pump stutter. He was a moron and always managed to surprise Nines one or the other way. He was an entirely different man at home with his cats and… and around Nines. He was surprisingly kind for his rough appearance. He still was an asshole most of the time, but he was… cute. He was-

Yeah, no. Nines stopped that train of thoughts that could go on forever, because he only now realised how big his folder on Gavin Reed had gotten over the past months compared to the others. There was no doubt there. He was in love with the man. But now how to tell him?

He spent most of the time at the precinct thinking about when and how to tell Gavin. He shouldn’t do it in front of other people in case Gavin refused. Hopefully he wouldn’t, but he had to think of everything with this. He could do it via text message once the man was home, maybe that was the safest approach, but then again, maybe this was a bit weird. Also, what if he didn’t answer or didn’t look at his phone? He couldn’t interface with him, what would have been his go to option with an android. He would just have to tell him verbally. But when was a good time for that?

He waited for a good occasion. It could have been the one time they were both in the breakroom alone. But Gavin had spilled his coffee that moment and it passed. The next one would have been at his favourite coffeeshop, but Gavin ran off to go to the bathroom after Nines had only managed to push out as much as his name. It seemed that whenever a chance to tell the man came up, something else happened to disrupt it. It was frustrating.

Gavin felt bad about what he was doing, but he wasn’t ready. He had done his research of course. That pink LED had appeared long enough now, that he was sure Nines wasn’t just experimenting with colours. And the internet was a thing. Apparently, the android was in love with him. What was impossible and weird and… somehow not unexpected at all. It made sense and Gavin was sure he felt something for the stupid tin-can too. That damn machine always so polite and caring and still strong and tall and intimidating. It was fascinating how Nines seemed to have two modes and how quickly he changed in between them. He was a force of nature when in pursuit of a criminal and Gavin was pretty sure he could punch through walls if he wanted to. Still when over at his place playing with his cats, he was so gentle as if anything more than the lightest touch could break them. He was handsome and maybe even sexy and despite hating that in his predecessor, he looked cute in his stupid turtlenecks and fancy clothes and-

Yeah, maybe Gavin was a little bit in love with him too. But the thought of speaking about that out loud was somehow horrifying to him. Talking about emotions always ended bad for him and he didn’t want to phck up this too.

Nines was sprinting through the streets, gun at the ready and leaping over trash cans and signs that the android he was trailing was throwing in his path. Nines was running for a long time now and unfortunately didn’t manage to catch up with the other android. The only hope he had at catching him was that he made a mistake to his advantage. He had lost Gavin some way back already and had no idea where his partner was now. He was only human after all, he couldn’t keep this speed up forever, no matter how much he trained. Nines had his GPS-tracker reactivated, so he could catch up again, once he had gotten to a car. It was on him alone now and he had to catch that android, no matter what. ‘DPD, freeze!’, he shouted for what had to be the hundredth time already, but to no effect. If anything, the android got even faster now and gained on him.

Nines was about to call in backup, as suddenly something came flying out of a side-street and crashed into the android, both of them falling to the ground. The projectile revealed itself to be his partner, Gavin Reed, gasping for air and holding his side, while still keeping the android pinned to the street. ‘You… You absolute phcker… Are arrested…’, he panted, and Nines finally came to a halt next to him, as the human read him his rights and called in a car to take him to the precinct. Nines couldn’t do anything, but stare at this human. Had he run all this way? Had he really kept up by choosing a faster path and surprising their android from the side? That was more than just remarkable, and Nines had never expected him to- Gavin had handcuffed the android to a no-parking-sign and collapsed to the ground, chest heaving and falling from the long chase.

Nines leaned over him in worry, wanting to ask if he was alright, but all came out was ‘God, I love you, Gavin!’ The human lifted his lower arm and waved it away: ‘Yeah, I love you too, Toaster.’ Then he looked up mortified and both stared at each other in shock. ‘You- You do?’, Nines asked again, hoping he didn’t just misheard something. ‘Yeah, I do. I really do. I mean, that’s what your pink LED is for, right?’ ‘How did you- yes. That what it means.’ ‘Yeah. I phcking love you too, tin-can. Sorry for being an ass interrupting you all the time. I was scared.’ ‘Wait, you did that? I thought it was just coincidence!’ ‘Not very bright, are we?’ ‘Says the right person.’

They were interrupted by an exasperated sigh. ‘God, you two get a room’, the handcuffed fugitive complained. ‘Or at least wait until I’m gone.’ ‘Oh, phck off!’, Nines and Gavin said simultaneously.

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #they both are morons again proving you can be both intelligent and dumb #they share one braincell and neither of them found it this time

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ruensroad · 5 years ago

Text

unexpected

I have fought myself a while in whether or not I want to get into this AU, but then @bloody-bee-tea had me gushing about the Nie Brothers in it and I just... I am weak, okay? weak and soft. So here you go. XD

---

For a deathless Immortal, life didn’t often change. Each golden morning heralded the same blue skies, the same sweet breeze. The same flowers grew in his garden, the same sun-flies and rain-birds came to visit in the warmth of the afternoons. The violet evenings under the same shimmering rainbow; the night under the same glittering stars.

Lan Huan’s life had a pattern. He woke early, roused his younger brother, and made breakfast and tea. He taught A-Zhan his characters and numbers and how to paint. The early afternoon saw A-Zhan hurrying out to be with his beloved rabbits and Lan Huan out to his favorite patch of garden, covered in the lilies his father had planted for his mother. For that story was a tragedy, he loved the flowers nonetheless, and he spent his time in the golden light tending them.

He was uninterrupted, most days, until evening, when it was time to make dinner and more tea for himself and A-Zhan. Then it was music lessons before bed, just to start the cycle again. Unchanging, unending. A blissful, uncomplicated existence, as it was for all Immortal children in the Heavenly plane.

But not today, it seemed.

He’d just bid A-Zhan farewell to retreat into his garden, just grabbed a watering can when he heard the crush of grass and the excited snuffling of an animal, then watched the daisies at his feet sway to the ground under a rolling ball of scales and fur. Lan Huan stood shocked a beat too long, long enough the cub blinking up at him lost interest after a few chirps went unanswered, then its wide, dilated eyes fixated on a rose and got thoroughly distracted.

He’d seen the Guardian Lion Dogs before, of course. On the few occasions his life’s pattern did change, it was to follow his Uncle to the nearby temple for prayers and reflection, all while under the watchful gaze of the twin Guardians standing guard over it.

But they’d all been… huge, however, towering over him and his brother when they passed. This was just a baby, all puffy fluff and too big paws and what seemed to be a keen interest in flowers and adventure. Lan Huan had never heard of a Lion Dog leaving its assigned temple, let alone galavanting into unsuspecting gardens, but he was instantly charmed regardless and knelt down while the cub batted happily at the rose.

They were considered lucky, and Lan Huan could admit he felt lucky to bear witness to the cub’s obviously delighted play. He rolled in the grass, knocking over flowers and upending stones, and growled fiercely at a sun-fly when it lighted on a petal.

“Such a fierce Guardian you are,” Lan Huan praised, knowing the Lion Dogs to be proud beasts. He stood the best chance of stopping the casual destruction of his garden by distracting the cub with it. At least he hoped. Cute as it was, these were special flowers. “I daresay no sun-fly dare return to that flower after such a roar.”

The cub puffed up, obviously preening, and tottered over, wobbly and unbalanced due to his overly large paws. Da-ge is scarier, he said, proud of that fact, and wagged his nub of a tail at Lan Huan. He’s always looking like this.

The cub pulled back his lips, baring fangs and wrinkling his brow. Lan Huan had to take an extra breath not to laugh.

“Oh, fearsome indeed,” he agreed, nodding seriously.

Da-ge is no fun though, the cub continued, tired already of pulling faces, and pounced on a daffodil before rolling and kicking at the tall leaves. Always work, no play! No pretty things. I like these pretty things.

“Flowers,” Lan Huan told him, unable to stop a worried smile. “You haven’t seen flowers?”

Seen them, but not close enough to smell! The cub purred so hard his whole little body rattled with it, golden eyes squinted into glowing half moons. I really like flowers.

“I like them too,” Lan Huan chuckled and gently eased a few blooms out of the cub’s path. “They are delicate and lovely. So fragile yet beautiful.”

Fragile? The cub blinked at him then around at the mess he’d made. He sniffed and sat up, looking as though he hadn’t just done that, like there wasn’t grass caught in his scales or a daisy stuck in his ear. Why must pretty things always be so easy to smush?

“It’s part of their charm, I suppose,” Lan Huan told him and wondered if it would be safe to brush away the mess from the cub’s fur, or if he’d be bitten for even daring to try. He knew the protocol with big Guardians, which greetings to use, which offerings to lay, but what about touching? There were no rules he knew of regarding touching them, let alone a cub already breaking the rules. Would it be safe?

The pad of heavy feet cut through his indecision, and to his surprise another cub hopped over the garden wall, bigger than his current trouble-making guest, but obviously not close to grown. Still, its scowl was impressive for so young a Guardian, even if the growl in its throat was still a bit higher with youth, not the low, timbered rumbling it would be one day.

Lan Huan felt himself go utterly still as the larger cub approached, its golden gaze fixated on him and the tiny terror. But when it spoke, it wasn’t to Lan Huan, and the voice was boyish, the way Lan Huan’s was. A-Sang!

Da-ge found me! The cub - A-Sang? - chirped happily and rushed over, uncaring it seemed of the sharp tone or the growling. He rubbed happily under the larger one’s chin, purring and rattling, before pouncing on his paw. Found all the pretty things, da-ge! See?

A long, tired sigh, then the growling cut out in resignation. Lan Huan bit down a wide grin to see the all too familiar brotherly exasperation cross the Lion Dog’s face. This is not the temple, he reprimanded. You trespassed and ruined someone’s garden.

“It’s alright,” Lan Huan was quick to say around A-Sang’s contrite pouting. “I didn’t tell him to stop so the fault is mine.”

He got a huff for that and a considering look, before the Lion Dog sat down, then flopped. Right on top of A-Sang.

The cub whined, biting and pawing playfully at his brother’s face. His brother who was unmoved, uncaring of the tiny teeth. You are so damn tiring, he said to A-Sang, who gave up on fighting and started wiggling.

And you are heavy da-ge! He whined. Unable to get free, he flopped over his brother’s paw and pouted, though was already yawning now that he was no longer moving about.

Deal with it, the older cub warned, then his eyes were back on Lan Huan, curious, but not hostile, he was relieved to see. Forgive him, he’s just a cub.

“Nothing to forgive,” Lan Huan assured and shifted a little closer to the two brothers. “Unexpected, maybe, but all in good fun. And I can fix up the garden.”

The Lion Dog looked dubious, but didn’t argue, and waited for another wide yawn from A-Sang before lifting his head. Like a well-known dance, A-Sang stayed put, snuggling down in his brother’s fur and scales and purred, content it seemed, and warm.

“I didn’t know you could leave the temple,” Lan Huan said, still awed that this was happening at all.

We can, though we’re not technically supposed to. A sigh, which had Lan Huan smothering another grin. But I doubt even our General would be able to keep this one contained.

Lan Huan huffed a soft laugh, just imagining little A-Sang skirting under the giant paws of their elders. It was far too easy to imagine. “He is spirited.”

And easily distracted, the older cub sighed in exhaustion. Poorly suited to temple life. I don’t know if he’ll make it.

“With a big brother like you, i’m sure he will,” Lan Huan assured, not certain what happened to those Lion Dogs that didn’t meet expectations. He was suddenly afraid to ask and swept the worry to the side by offering his hand, as well as a bow of his head. “I am Lan Huan.”

A large paw was stretched over his hand, a very heavy, reassuring weight against his palm. Nie Mingjue, the cub told him.

It was a courtesy name, which meant this cub at least was a full on Guardian in training. Lan Huan had to wonder if that meant it would be the last time he’d see Nie Mingjue and A-Sang in his garden, or if the tiny cub’s need for adventure would make this a common occurrence. He found himself hoping it was the latter and shook his paw with a wide smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nie Mingjue,” he said earnestly and smiled down at the slowly blinking A-Sang. “You and your brother.”

Nie Mingjue snorted again, but gently nuzzled the ball of fluff curled against his chest and sighed. Sorry again. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen a second time.

“No, please!” Lan Huan said quickly, startling them both. He blushed when he realized he was still squeezing Nie Mingjue’s paw. “You two are welcome here anytime. If he wants to come, he can.”

Nie Mingjue studied him in a silence that had him squirming, but finally nodded. Thank you, he said and bowed his head. Honestly you’d be doing me a favor, because I doubt he’d let me stop him from coming here, honestly.

Lan Huan chuckled, relief making something in him sing, and he patted the paw in his hand in gratitude. “I understand. So please, come anytime you like. You’re welcome here.”

His wrist was nuzzled, then the Lion Dog breathed in deep against his skin. Smelling him, perhaps, or scenting his sincerity. A low purr had him nearly puddling on the spot.

Thank you, Lan Huan. Knowing A-Sang, I will probably take you up on that offer.

#ruenwrites #nielan #ish #it will be eventually #unicorns are assholes au #yes that is the tag #for a reason!#lan xichen #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #nie brothers

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