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libraryofloveletters · 4 years ago

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Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context)

Category: fluff for the most part.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do.

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Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication.

Letters had always been more of your thing.

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him.

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30.

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter.

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving.

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment.

September 30th.

‘Hi baby!

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon.

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ?

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :)

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you.

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd.

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure. I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back.

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor.

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming)

Peace out,

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind.

November 4th.

‘Dear Evan,

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you.

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter.

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up.

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer.

Anyways, signing off for now.

Yours always, y/n.

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet.

December 21st.

‘Hey y/n,

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me.

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now.

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun.

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now.

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description.

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ?

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n.

Peace out,

Evan.

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th.

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it.

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan,

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ?

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go.

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories.

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had.

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah)

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present?

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country.

February 12th.

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it, a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name.

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas.

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me.

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell)

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ?

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it.

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it.

Peace out,

Buck’

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash.

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there.

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August.

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it.

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now.

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall.

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that.

Except, she was still busy.

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile.

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n.

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties.

A fresh start.

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into.

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates.

Buck’s last letter to you.

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing.

‘Dear Buck,

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change.

Guess where I decided to go ?

Did you guess yet?

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ?

LA!

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.)

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ?

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first.

Yours always, y/n.’

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye.

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor.

The unit number was the only difference.

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in.

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address.

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall.

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years.

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you.

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door.

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door.

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?”

“I am, who are you ?”

“Y/n.”

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled.

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar.

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer.

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter.

“Water’s fine, thanks”

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you.

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile.

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?”

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose”

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums.

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before.

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?”

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact.

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer.

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?”

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.”

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles.

“Buck, we live in the same building.”

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other.

“Okay.”

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glytchfic · 3 years ago

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We started as a spark. PART 2.

David Dastmalchian x Fem!Reader

Bonjour! There goes Part 2, it’s a bit longer than Part 1. Look, i was truly inspired, okay? Anyway, i’m letting you guys decide which Tom is it, it’s up to you - wink wink -. And I’ve decided to change the name of the story, it’s still from the same song but i thought it was more fitting.

Special thanks to everyone who’s reading me, i really appreciate it. Comments, complaints, the usual!

PS: Since i’m pretty new to the whole Tumblr thing, can anyone explain to me how am i suppose to do a ‘read more’ option on my post so people who doesn’t want to read it don’t have to scroll for so long? lol, i feel stupidddddd.

Enjoy!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: slow burn, foul language, flirting, sexual tension, drinking, brief mention of marital problems.

Inspired by the song False Alarm by Matoma and Becky Hills.

___________________________________________________________

‘How about this one?’

‘You are not gonna get laid in this one, trust me.’ my friend tells me.

‘What if, and it might sound totally crazy, I don’t wanna get laid?’ I say, amused.

‘At a wedding? Bullshit.’

I laugh a bit and go back to my cabin to change again. I look at all the possibilities in front of me, pink puffy dress, green silk dress and a white dress. I scowl looking at the white dress. As if I would wear that to someone else’s wedding. I draw the curtains of the cabin, only in my underwear, and look at Alica.

‘I’m desperate. For the love of God, find me something.’ I whine.

‘Why do you care so much about this wedding anyway?’ she says as she browses through a bunch of dresses behind her.

‘David will be there.’

‘The guy who looks like a serial killer?’

‘He does not -’ I begin, walking towards her, ‘he’s a sweet guy.’

‘And he’s married.’ she states.

‘Yes, he is.’ I mutter.

After a long silence, she gently slaps me on my arm, ‘Oh my god! Are you serious? I thought you didn’t sleep with married men!’

‘I don’t!’ I defend myself, ‘I just – I don’t know. I wanna be smoking hot at Sean’s wedding and the fact that David is there might or might not have a direct link to my desperate search for the perfect dress. We might never know.’ I say with a bit of sarcasm.

‘Sweetie,’ she puts her hands on my shoulders, ‘I’m sure he’s a fantastic guy, but don’t get too hyped about him. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.’ she says in a gentle tone.

‘I -’ I stammer, ‘Look, it’s just a dumb crush. I’ll be over it after a new one-night stand.’

‘Are you sure?’ she questions me.

‘Sure. I mean, yeah, I’d climb this guy like a fucking tree -’

‘You’re unbelievable.’ she cuts me off.

‘Buuuuuut -’ I motion to her to let me finish, ‘I can’t, and I won’t. I honestly think David and I can be good friends. Whether you believe me or not, I really do think that.’ I reassure her.

‘I do believe you, but please, just be careful. I’m telling you this because I care about you.’ she says while putting a strand of my hair behind my ear.

‘I know and if you were in my shoes, I would be telling you the same thing.’ I smile at her.

‘I know.’ she smiles back.

I hesitate a few seconds, ‘So anyway, as I was saying: like a fucking tree -’ I joke and start laughing.

‘Oh my god!’ she throws a black dress at my face, ‘go try this one. Hopefully, it’ll help you get some.’

Car keys in hands, I lock my car and walk toward the ceremony. I put my keys in my purse and see I have a text message from Alica wishing me good luck for the evening and all. I text back a simple ‘Thanks, love you xx’ and I put in back in my purse. I stop in front of the door, and I observe my surroundings. I see a few faces I recognize, and they wave at me. I wave back and smile at them. This event won’t be that bad. I’ll probably run into lots of people I know – from the industry – that I haven’t seen in a long time. Good opportunity to catch up.

‘Wow! You look beautiful!’

I hear a familiar voice and turn around. I see Daniela – Melchior, aka Ratcatcher 2 – trotting towards me. She opens her arms; I do the same and we hug each other more tightly than I thought we would. I really do enjoy Daniela’s presence, but she lives in Portugal and only come to the USA from time to time for the pre-production of the film so I haven’t had the chance to get to know her as much as I would have liked.

‘I didn’t think you would be here!’ I say, surprised.

‘Me neither, but James convinced Warner Bros to pay for my plane ticket and told them it was work related.’ she says, excited.

I laugh, ‘Of course he did that.’

I’ve known James for years and I would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t arranged for Daniela to be here for his brother’s wedding. James is always like that; he wants to create a sense of family with his crew, and no one is left behind.

‘I’m so nervous.’ Daniela says quietly.

‘How come?’

‘I don’t know anyone here except for the Suicide Squad gang.’ she muttered, looking down.

‘Hey, gotta start somewhere, right?’ I gently put my hand under her chin, and I slowly raise her head. ‘don’t worry about anything, we got you.’ I wink at her, and a beautiful smile appears on her face.

‘Thanks.’

Daniela is, by far, the youngest of the group. She’s barely 23 years old, she’s from Portugal, English is not her first language, and The Suicide Squad is her first big international role. I remember the first time I saw her, she looked so intimidated being surrounded by all of us, but she’s learning so fast and I can’t wait to see what she’ll give us once we’re on set.

‘Let’s go, it’ll probably starts soon.’ I wrap a protective arm around her, and we walk through the front door.

‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!’ the priest exclaims.

Sean grabs Nathasha – now officially his wife – by her waist and they kiss each other passionately. Everyone stands up and applauds to congratulate the newly married couple. Daniela grabs my arm, all excited by Sean and Nathasha walking down the aisle. I look at them, a huge smile on my face, and something – someone – caught my attention in the background.

‘What are you looking at?’ Daniela questions me, ‘hey look, David is over there!’ she says pointing in his direction.

Oh, poor child, if only you knew. Everyone starts following the married couple down the aisle and Daniela gently grabs my hand so we can’t get separated. Walking through this crown of Sean and Nathasha’s friends, Daniela and I find the exit and get there just in time to see the newly married couple leaving the place to go to the reception. I smile as I look at the car disappearing from my sight, I turn around towards Daniela and I freeze, my smile slowly fading away.

‘What’s the matter?’ Daniela asks, worried.

She follows my gaze and sees what I was looking at. David walking towards us, hand in hand with his – I assume – his wife. He waves at us and Daniela waves back at him while I’m still not moving. This shouldn’t be a surprise really. It makes perfect sense that he’s at a wedding ceremony with his wife and – fucking hell – she's pretty.

‘Hi, I’m Evelyn!’ she says with enthusiasm.

And she seems so nice. And has a good vibe. And they look like a great couple. And – fuck – I feel horrible for all the thoughts I’ve had – and still have – about her husband in the last two months. Daniela, still holding my hand, looks between me and her a few times and squeezes my hand a bit as if she was comforting me. I can hear them make small talk about the wedding and all, but I’m not paying attention. I see David trying to catch my gaze, but every time I either look at Daniela or his wife. I feel like such a spoiled brat, I shouldn’t be affected that much by this. I don’t want to marry him goddamn it, I just wanna – but I won’t - have sex with him. It’s just an attraction. A deep, intense and consuming attraction, but still an attraction, nonetheless. Why am I like this?

‘Are you okay?’ Daniela asks, still worried.

I don’t answer as I look David and his wife walking towards their car, probably on their way to the ceremony. Daniela put her other hand on my back and hugs me a little.

‘I know what it feels like.’ she simply whispers close to my ear.

‘What do you mean?’ I mutter, getting back to reality.

‘I have been there before. It will be fine, trust me.’ she hugs me a bit tighter.

I turn my head towards her, and she gives me a warm smile.

‘Is it really that obvious?’

She laughs, ‘Come on, we have to go.’

Fuck, she knows.

Drink in hand, I’m on the dance floor with Daniela and we’re giving everything we have. Screaming the lyrics to the Icona Pop song ‘All Night’, she takes my free hand, and we start spinning, laughing and stumbling around. The last note of the song echoed on the dance floor, and I look at Daniela, out of breath.

‘How long have we been here? Jesus.’ I say catching my breath.

‘Long enough for this guy at the bar to completely undress you with his eyes.’ she subtly points me the direction with her chin.

I turn around to see the handsome stranger and I chuckle a bit. It’s no stranger, I know this guy. I look at Daniela as I finish my drink, I put it on the table next to us and I wink at her before leaving.

‘Hey Tom.’ I say seductively.

‘Good evening, gorgeous.’ He flirts back in his English accent.

Tom and I aren’t at our first ride together. We have history together, nothing serious really, but we do appreciate each other a lot. And he’s a good fuck, there I said it. For what feels like hours – who knows how long – we catch up, flirt, have a few drinks, hands wandering here and there. I feel myself getting more and more tipsy as the minute goes by. As Tom was whispering sweet nothings in my ear, something else caught my attention a bit far away. David and his wife, talking. They both move their hands a lot. Oh. I’m an idiot. They’re arguing. Not the ‘imma-scream-and-make-a-scene’ type of argument, but you can clearly see something is going on. After a few minutes, they both seem to have calm down. David put his hand on Evelyn’s hips and tries to kiss her, but she turns her head away, kissing her cheek instead. She gives him a weak smile and leaves. David sighs, rubs his forehead and walks towards the bar.

‘Tom, could you give me a moment, please? I think my friend’s not feeling good.’ I say, worried.

‘Of course, darling.’

I get up and finally realize that I’m a bit more drunk that I thought I was, but nothing too crazy. I’ve seen worse, way much worse. I stabilize myself and walk towards the other bar where David was sitting all by himself, leaning his forehead against the palm of his left hand as the other was mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

‘What is a handsome place like this doing in a man like you?’ I say, thinking I’m incredibly funny.

He turns around to look at me, a weak smile on his lips.

‘That was dumb as fuck, I’m sorry. Can -’ I sit down next to him, ‘can I buy you a drink or something?’

‘That’s very nice of you, but I don’t drink.’ He simply says.

‘Oh.’

I look around, a bit awkward. Even though there’s loud music playing permanently, it feels like there’s a heavy silence between us. I decide to stay right next to him and I start scrolling on my phone too.

‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ He mutters.

‘Oh, I insist! S’cuse me, sir -’ the barman turns towards me, ‘can I have two glasses of water pretty please?’ the barman nods.

‘You’re unstoppable, aren’t you?’ Another weak smile appears on his lips.

‘Always. So -’ the barman puts down the glasses in front of us, ‘you wanna talk about it?’ I risk myself.

‘Not really, actually.’ He sighs.

‘It’s perfectly fine! So, hmm, ah yes! I watched this horror movie the other day, I’m sure you would have love it! There’s this girl, y’know? She slept with a guy she went on a movie date with. After their sexy time this asshole fucking drugs her with – what's it called – that liquid they use on washcloths in movie to make people fall asleep and kidnap them?’

‘Chloroform.’ He chuckles.

‘This! Yes! So anyway, she falls asleep and when she wakes up, she’s tied up on a chair! And then there’s this weird looking naked woman walking towards the girl and turns out this woman is actually a ghost now chasing the girl and the guy slept with her because you can pass this ghost curse through sex. Can you fucking believe that?’

‘I cannot believe it.’ He says, clearly amused.

‘Does it make sense? Should I stop? Sorry, I’ve been drinking tonight.’ I say, a bit embarrassed.

‘No, no! Please, tell me more.’

And I keep babbling about the movie It Follows and as I go, I realize that most of the things I say don’t make any sense at all, but as long as David keeps smiling and laughing, I’ll just keep going. At one point of the story, he bursts out laughing which makes me smile so much that my jaw is almost hurting.

‘There it is. That smile.’ I simply say.

Hu blushes, ‘Thanks.’

We look at each other for a few seconds and I motion him to drink water, which he does. I do the same and I almost choke on my water when I hear ‘Dance With Me Tonight’ by Olly Murs starts playing. I put down my glass and take David by the arm with enthusiasm.

‘That’s my song, come on David!’ I pull on his arm.

He laughs and I can feel him letting himself go. He follows me on the dance floor, and I start dancing, encouraging him. He looks around, with a small smile on his lips and he looks back at me, rubbing his neck with his hand. I reach out to him, and he grabs my hands. Laughing and moving around, we can’t stop looking at each other as we’re having the time of our life. I suddenly stop when I feel a hand – not David’s - on my shoulder.

‘I was looking everywhere for you, darling.’ he says slipping his hand down my back, ‘I’m Tom.’ he stares at my partner.

‘David.’ he simply answers.

‘I’m going back to my place, darling. Care to join me?’ he gets closer to me.

Still holding David’s hand, I look between him and Tom, unsure of myself. I glance at David who gives me a reassuring smile. I know he wouldn’t be mad at me. I mean, I do wanna get laid. But.

‘Sorry, Tom. I’m staying.’ I say confidently as I feel David’s hands gently squeezing mine.

‘Oh, I see.’ he bends towards me and kiss me on the temple, ‘call me, okay?’

I nod and watch him leave the place. I exhale deeply and turn back towards David who has a cheeky smile on his face. He rubs my hand a little bit with his thumbs, and he laughs.

‘Did I just cock-blocked you?’

‘I think you did.’ I laugh back.

He hesitates, ‘It’s not too late if you want to join him.’ he says looking in the direction Tom left.

‘No! I -’ I cut him off, ‘I’d rather stay here.’ I say under my breath.

He smiles, ‘Where were we?’ he starts dancing again.

Quoting our favorite movies, David and I are walking down my street. I would be lying if I said I was still drunk, I’m not. I haven’t had a drink since I went to see David at the bar, but I don’t feel like I need the effect of alcohol to enjoy myself right at this moment.

‘You didn’t have to walk me home, y’know?’ I shiver.

‘I know, but I wanted to.’ hey says as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders.

I blush and look down at my feet. We walk down the rest of the street in a comfortable silence and I’m here, wondering what would happen next if he wasn’t married. I push those thoughts away as I see my apartment complex in front of me.

‘Home sweet home.’ I sigh, not wanting this night to ever end.

‘Home sweet home, indeed.’ he replies, ‘look,’ he hesitates a few seconds, ‘thank you for tonight. I truly mean it.’ he says with a warm smile.

I feel my heart beating faster, ‘Anything for you, David.’

He looks down, bites his lips and looks back at me, ‘I forgot to tell you,’ he gets closer, ‘you looked lovely tonight.’ he gently takes back his jacket from my shoulders.

I catch my breath, ‘Thanks.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ he whispers.

‘Good night.’ I whisper back and he smiles.

He turns around and starts walking again. I look at him for a few seconds before I enter my apartment complex with a sigh of – I don’t know – frustration or relief, I wouldn’t be able to say which one.

‘Are you okay, miss?’ Alexander, the night shift lobbyist, asks me.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’

No, Alexander, I’m not fine. My core is throbbing, my heart is racing, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking horny.

#we started as a spark #part 2 #david dastmalchian x reader #david dastmalchian #abner krill x reader #polka dot man x reader

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kurowrites · 4 years ago

Note

May i ask for WangXian? With nos;

1 (roomates rite?) with 6 (fake dating i think?)

And 5 (something about emotional capacity of a brick? Strangely enough i wish that LWJ would be the one to say this to WWX..if possible 🥺🥺)

I also sorta hope this evolves in to a FWB situation but just the thought of fluff n hilarity from this prompt is already making me squeal n cackle 🤣🤣🤣

Please n thank you 🥰🥰🥰

Have some dumb weekend fluff.

---

When Wei Ying arrived at home, he had a very precise plan how he wanted the rest of the evening to go. He was feeling an exhaustion that barely left him standing, and all he wished for was to eat (though that one was optional, honestly), get fucked into his mattress (though he would probably have to do with a quick wank), and then sleep for the next twelve hours.

Not more, not less.

As they are wont to do, things didn’t turn out quite as he had imagined them on his tedious way home. When he finally walked through the door of the apartment that he and Lan Zhan shared, his first target was the kitchen, where he hoped he would be able to stealthily unearth something from the freezer that could be warmed up in the oven.

When he entered the kitchen, however, he found Lan Zhan at the stove, stirring a pot of food that smelled heavenly. Lan Zhan turned around when he heard the door open, and he gave Wei Ying a critical once-over before he announced: “Take a shower, the food will be ready soon.”

Well, Wei Ying thought, turning around and heading towards the bathroom almost as if he was guided by some higher power. It was rather hard to argue with that.

He had no idea why Lan Zhan was awake this late at night, and why he was cooking dinner, of all things. But Wei Ying was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when he was this tired. If a shower was the most direct path to food prepared by Lan Zhan, then he would do that without a single complaint.

The shower helped slightly with his exhaustion and general sense of discomfort, and when he finally left the bathroom, he felt slightly more conscious and decidedly more human than before. And when he stepped back into the kitchen, a steaming, hearty bowl of curry was waiting for him at the table, looking perfect and delicious and like everything that Wei Ying had not dared to hope for tonight.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying moaned, making a beeline towards the table, stuffing the food into his mouth almost before he had even taken a seat. “You are the best. The bestest. A god among mortals.”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with that statement. “Eat.”

That, Wei Ying did without needing to be told twice. Lan Zhan had made the curry exactly the way Wei Ying liked it, rich in flavour and very spicy, and it was just so good. Getting to eat Lan Zhan’s cooking, full stop, was already a boon. And Lan Zhan had made this curry just for him, had waited until after his bedtime to feed Wei Ying. He truly was the bestest roommate that ever lived.

Wei Ying eagerly devoured his bowl, and Lan Zhan even gave him seconds.

So good! So delicious!

After he had finished his curry, Wei Ying still felt exhausted, but now he had a warm belly full of delicious food, and a warm flicker in his chest that was the knowledge that his roommate cared enough about him to make food when Wei Ying was down on his last leg. Things were looking a little brighter now.

And Lan Zhan was still in the kitchen, putting away the last of the cookware that he had washed while Wei Ying was eating.

Wei Ying looked at him, and considered. After he had already received the deluxe version of the first item on his to-do list tonight, he decided that maybe his luck was just good enough to get the second item on the list checked off, too.

He got up and put his dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and then he waited until Lan Zhan had put away the last pan. Once Lan Zhan’s hands were free, he smoothly slipped in between Lan Zhan and the kitchen counter, and wrapped his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, a sneaky smile playing on his lips. “You are still awake.”

“Indeed,” Lan Zhan calmly observed.

“Mh, I missed you, oh roommate mine,” Wei Ying sighed, a little dramatically. “I feel like I haven’t seen you forever. And now that you’re here…”

He leaned in, gently rubbing his nose against the soft skin of Lan Zhan’s neck.

He felt the tiniest of shudders in response, and then Lan Zhan’s arms wrapped around his waist.

Jackpot.

It wasn’t always easy, figuring out when Lan Zhan was in the mood. They were roommates after all, and generally they just lived together. But sometimes, even the rigid Lan Zhan needed to let off a little steam, and when he was in the right mood, he was perfectly fine with fucking Wei Ying into various surfaces around their apartment. Wei Ying obviously had no objections to that; not only was Lan Zhan really hot, he was also really good at sex.

Maybe it was sad to say that his entire sex life consisted of occasionally seducing his roommate, but it was good. Really good. And Lan Zhan seemed to feel the same, because Wei Ying was pretty sure that Lan Zhan wasn’t having any kind of ‘relations’ with anyone else.

So yes, they had done this many times before, and by now, Wei Ying had become pretty skilled at reading when Lan Zhan was open to seduction. Still, the moment before he could be sure that Lan Zhan was willing to respond was always a nerve-wracking one. Luckily today, Lan Zhan’s hands on his waist spoke a clear language.

He grinned up at Lan Zhan and said cheekily, “I’ve been wanting to get fucked into my mattress very, very thoroughly all day. Honestly, I think all that’s between me and twelve hours of sleep is one good orgasm.”

Lan Zhan didn’t reply, but his hands squeezed Wei Ying’s waist once in response to Wei Ying’s words.

Wei Ying moaned in return, leaning up to press soft kisses against Lan Zhan’s lips.

“You can do with me whatever you want,” he promised. “I’m all yours.”

His clumsy attempt at seduction was apparently deemed sufficient, because Lan Zhan started herding Wei Ying towards his bedroom.

Being in Lan Zhan’s care was always amazing, because Lan Zhan never failed to really take care of everything, especially in moments like these. He silently guided Wei Ying to his bed, stripped him out of his clothing (folding and putting everything away properly, which shouldn’t be hot but was, anyway), then readied lube and condoms, and before long, he was arranging Wei Ying on the bed with almost adorable intent and focus.

Wei Ying let it all happen; he felt too lazy to move on his own volition and was perfectly willing to let Lan Zhan take the wheel after he had signalled his willingness. Lan Zhan moved his limbs around, lifted his hips, and suddenly, Wei Ying found himself in a position where he was more or less pinned on the bed, open for Lan Zhan but not really able to move otherwise.

It was perfect. This was exactly what he had fantasised about. When Lan Zhan worked him open and slowly pushed into him, he was unable to do anything but moan and take what Lan Zhan was giving him. It was incredible, getting slowly fucked into the mattress by Lan Zhan. As he was wont to do, he tortured Wei Ying, letting his orgasm build slowly as he thoroughly worked Wei Ying’s body with precise movements. He had never really told Lan Zhan as much, feeling that such a confession end up on the wrong side of revealing, but he felt safe in Lan Zhan’s hands, and only this let something inside him unfurl slowly, something that had been tense and stressed out all day.

It wasn’t necessarily the physical act in itself that made Wei Ying want to sleep with Lan Zhan occasionally, but this feeling of safety, of being taken care of that Lan Zhan seemed to naturally inspire. He sometimes got horny for that feeling alone.

When he finally came, it was with an almost hazy, sluggish kind of intensity, one that made his eyes close and sleep pull at his consciousness almost before he knew it.

He felt a gentle hand on is back, and a whispered ‘Sleep,’ and then he was gone.

---

When Wei Ying woke up the next morning, finally feeling halfway rested again, Lan Zhan was obviously long gone. He always woke so much earlier than Wei Ying, and had probably finished half of his planned tasks for the day already. It was enough to make one feel bad about one’s own achievements, if Wei Ying didn’t have absolutely no hope of every reaching Lan Zhan’s levels of competence.

Wei Ying stretched lazily and wandered into the kitchen to look of food. His plans today mostly consisted of eating and lazing around; the first day in a long while that he would be able to enjoy without having to stress about work, and he intended to enjoy it by doing absolutely nothing.

In the kitchen, he found breakfast prepared for him already – Lan Zhan really was too good to him! Grateful, Wei Ying sat down and dug in with enthusiasm.

Once he was finished, he considered for one moment that he should probably go to the bathroom and try to make himself at least somewhat presentable, but he really wasn’t feeling it. His primary goal today was to vegetate. He didn’t need to look actually human to do that. Instead of going to the bathroom, therefore, he went in search of Lan Zhan. It didn’t take long; he found him in the living room, reading a book on the sofa.

Without ceremony, Wei Ying flopped onto the sofa next to Lan Zhan, leaning his weight onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder. Lan Zhan, Wei Ying couldn’t help but notice, looked and smelled as good as he always did, while Wei Ying was still a disaster zone. It was truly enviable. Not that Wei Ying felt he had enough energy to put effort into it, right now.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighed, rubbing his face against Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “What would I do without a roommate like you? You are the best. Roommate of the year. Maybe of the century. The breakfast wasn’t needed, but appreciated anyway.”

He had expected one of Lan Zhan’s customary little “Hn”s, ignoring Wei Ying in favour of keeping his eyes on the book he was reading. Instead, he felt Lan Zhan’s posture grow stiff, right before Wei Ying was gently pushed off of Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan heaved a heavy sigh that Wei Ying didn’t know how to interpret.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said with a certain sense of gravity in his voice, not quite looking at Wei Ying. “I hate to agree with your brother on anything, but I think he was not entirely wrong when he told you that you have the emotional capacity of a brick.”

Wei Ying jerked back a little. He wouldn’t want to admit it, but the words hurt.

He knew that he wasn’t always the most sensitive person on the planet, but for Lan Zhan to use words like that… He racked his brain, trying to think of what he had done to make Lan Zhan this upset.

Lan Zhan had cooked for him yesterday without Wei Ying asking him to do it, and Wei Ying had said thank you. Wei Ying had asked for sex, but he’d checked in with Lan Zhan first to make sure he was okay with it. And the rest of the time, he’d been unconscious.

Was Lan Zhan upset that he hadn’t really done his share of housework lately, since he’d been so busy with his job?

“Lan Zhan, I –” he laughed nervously, pushing his hands through his hair. “You’re probably right about that, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lan Zhan sent him a look, which was somewhat less angry than Wei Ying had expected it to be (what a relief, Lan Zhan wasn’t actually angry at him), and then he sighed.

“Wei Ying,” he said, and suddenly he sounded a little sad. “You keep calling me roommate.”

“That’s… what you are?” Wei Ying asked, confused.

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say, because Lan Zhan’s expression soured.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaimed, keeping himself from latching onto Lan Zhan at the last moment. He doubted Lan Zhan wanted Wei Ying to touch him again right now. “Is that wrong?”

Lan Zhan huffed once.

“No, I guess it is not,” he pressed out. “I had simply hoped I would at least merit a ‘friend’ by now.”

Wei Ying gaped at Lan Zhan. Sat and stared at him in disbelief, watching as Lan Zhan’s ears slowly turned a brilliant pink.

“Lan Zhan!” he exclaimed, and then he couldn’t go on, because he was choked with too many feelings.

Lan Zhan, that Lan Zhan, considered him a friend?

A friend??

“Wait,” Wei Ying suddenly realised. “At least a friend?”

Lan Zhan sent him the flattest look he had ever seen. It was genuinely impressive.

“We’re fucking, Wei Ying,” he said, in a tone of voice equally as flat.

There was a beat of silence, a pronouncing ringing that went through the living room, freezing the air in between them for a moment.

And then Wei Ying tipped his head up and burst into laughter, loud and unrestrained. How could he not? Lan Zhan was funny, and Wei Ying was so relieved, and so happy, and…

“I thought you were barely tolerating me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighed as he back flopped against the sofa, the sudden storm of emotions ravaging his already exhausted body and dragging him back down as he took a deep breath. “I never thought you would ever –”

He bit on his lips and looked up at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who always took such good care of him.

Lan Zhan, who–

“I love you, Lan Zhan.”

The words left his lips almost against his will.

How could he not say that, when Lan Zhan looked at him with soft, molten eyes, the trace of a blush still staining his cheeks a pretty pink?

He loved this man.

“I really love you, Lan Zhan,” he couldn’t help but repeat. “So, you see, maybe slightly more emotional capacity than a brick. Though I wouldn’t–”

Lan Zhan, judging from the way he lifted Wei Ying into his lap, pressed their hot faces together, and peppered Wei Ying’s lips and cheeks with little kisses, apparently felt the same.

Definitely more than the emotional capacity of a brick.

#kuro writes #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #prompt meme #prompts #izzy-isme92

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

Text

Just Another Class Trip :) Part 6

Marinette goes on a nice peaceful trip to the pool. Me? sarcasm? how dare you sir!

First< Previous >Next

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

“Did you find what you were looking for Marinette?” Kagami asks oh so foolishly.

“Kagami look into my eyes and ask me that again,” Marinette dares, her eyes red rimmed with bags underneath bigger than Chloe's luggage.

“... You found your glasses?”

“Never mind,” She sighs, finishing the rest of her coffee, “At least that one isn't missing,”

“I thought you only wore them as M-you-know-who,” Chloe whispers, a purposeful look towards Lila’s posse leading the way to the bus.

“Just wanted to try them out without a mask,” She brushes off easily, she needed to be able to transport back to Paris at any time after all.

“Oh it was just terrible!” Lila cries, capturing the attention of everyone surrounding her.

“Did she finally hear a recording of herself?” Chloe scoffs, making Adrien shush her and Marinette crack a smile.

“This Starling kidnapped and tortured me for information,”

If only I had

“Luckily Batman was there to save me, but I knew he would be,” Lila croons, the class fretting over her all the while, “He was probably searching furiously the second I didn’t return his call,”

“When did she get Batman’s phone number?” Chloe whispers to her.

“No idea, think she’d give it to me?” Marinette smirks.

“Oh sure I bet it's 3825968,” Chloe laughs at her own joke.

Marinette doesn't get it but Kagami starts laughing, so she moves to stand next to Adrien while they share a moment.

“Any idea?”

“Not really,”

They reach the door going through it to find Gotham in the nice peaceful state it's always been.

Just kidding, lights start flashing in their faces and everyone around them is yelling. Lila of course tries to take this opportunity to get attention. To Marinette's great delight they push right past her, and to her horror opt to shove a million microphones in her face.

“Miss Wayne were you adopted?!”

“Yes but-” the cameras start flashing and the yelling increases tenfold.

“When?! How long ago!?!”

“A baby I guess?” She hadn't known her birth parents after all.

“How have you stay'n out of the public's eye for so long?”

By not being like Lila for one

“Mari I don’t think you’re talking about the same thing,”

“Yeah thanks, I’m getting that Adrien,”

“Adrien Agreste? Are you two dating?!”

“Great,” She ignores them, instead whispering to Adrien, “From now on Buttercup will be your codename,”

“Cool,” He leans in to whisper in her ear, “But I don’t think that’s helping things,”

It’s at this point the cameras are going crazy taking a million pictures of the two whispering in each others ear, while Kagami and Chloe try to push them all back. The class follow behind just as confused. Madame Bustier is trying to reason with the crowd, trying to . They reach the curb, fighting not to be pushed onto the road by the crowd. A limousine pulls up and for a wonderful second Marinette thinks Liam has come to save her, the wonderful manager he is. Instead Alfred steps out, surprising to say the least. He ushers her inside and tells the rest of the class the bus will be through momentarily. Marinette slides into the car right next to Bruce Wayne… well.

“Hello again, I um…” Marinette thinks back to their last meeting, “I don’t think I actually told you my name,”

“No you didn’t,” Bruce chuckles, “And Selina has been avoiding me ever since,”

“Sorry, well I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng Auntie Selina’s niece,” Marinette shakes his hand, “She didn’t tell me she was engaged,”

“Bruce Wayne, Selina didn’t tell me she had a niece,”

“Yeah, that's a bad habit isn't it?”

“Indeed,” Bruce pauses, both trying to reach for a conversation topic, “So you like fashion?”

She had said she would design her aunts wedding dress. She should probably double check that with the groom, whoops,

“I do I already sketched out some designs,” She takes out her sketchbook which has a good thirty pages dedicated to wedding dresses, “Oh you were probably going to hire a professional designer weren’t you?”

“We were considering MDC,”

“.... I think that’ll work out just fine either way,”

“Hm,” Bruce looks curiously at her as she hides away her sketch book, she would be using those designs either way.

“Anyway!” She changes the topic oh so subtly, “About those reporters…”

“Theres a certain rumour running rampant that you are a Wayne, after someone took a photo of you with my son at the airport,” Bruce explains, switching over to business mode in a heat beat, she could appreciate that, “We’ve been doing our best to contain it, but…”

“At the airport…” She mutters to herself, “Oh! Tim’s your son, that explains Alfred, that must mean Dick is too!... work at Wayne tower, yeah very funny,”

She tries not to roll her eyes at their understatement of the century, wasn't Tim Drake a CEO there?

“Impressive, have you met Damian too?” Bruce asks, a slight smile that would have called Kagami expressive.

“Not yet, but should I invest in a bingo card?”

“Maybe so,”

They fall into silence Marinette would usually hold polite conversation but her thoughts were in turmoil. Lila didn’t seem to know anything about the miraculous then again her interrogation was cut short by a certain someone . However Tikki had advised her against placing all the blame on Lila, she needed to consider other options as well. But who else could it be? she was in Gotham Hawkmoth couldn't reach her… unless he somehow...

“Marinette are you alright?”

Marinette startles look over at Bruce who is blurred by tears. She hadn't even realised she’d been crying.

“I-I’m sorry,” She hiccups trying fruitlessly to wipe away the tears, “I-it just…”

“It’s ok,” Bruce rubs her back comfortingly, but boy did he choose the wrong words.

“IT’S NOT OK!” Marinette yells not looking at anyone in the car, they didn’t matter, nothing else mattered, she had failed and people were going to suffer for it, “I left it behind! It’s all my fault! Now it’s GONE! It’s been stolen and I don’t know where it is!”

“What was stolen?” Bruce presses, getting over the shock of the polite and put together girl melting down into a puddle of sobs.

Now I’ve gone and messed up, time for a classic cover story and some half truths

“A good friend of mine gave me a very important jewellery box,” Marinette sighs, wiping the tears away and rebuilding herself, “It was stolen shortly after arriving in Gotham and I’ve been trying to find it,”

“Do you know who stole it?”

“I thought it was one of my classmates,” Marinette frowns, they should have certainly been there by now, “Still do honestly,”

“Which one?”

“Lila probably,” Marinette tries to keep her tone neutral, tries, “Brown hair that looks like sausages,”

Marinette could almost see the words ‘oh fuck’ written across his face.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, we have arrived,” Alfred speaks up for the first time, not leaving her time to puzzle over the reaction, “Your class arrived some time ago,”

“How did that happen?” Marinette frowns, they should have arrived ages ago.

“Alfred must have taken the scenic route,” Bruce shrugs, acting like an innocent party in all this.

“Well then I guess I’ll see you for the wedding,” Marinette tries not to rush out of the car, certain her class or rather Lila would have caused some grief by now.

“I’ll make sure to send the invites to your family personally,” Bruce promises, shaking her hand before she can run off.

“And I’ll make sure Auntie Selina doesn’t destroy them,” Marinette smiles back brightly, she can see the concern for her all over Bruce's face but doesn't have time to reassure him.

Marinette walks into the indoor pool, knowing her luck the class was already inside. They were and the owner was not happy about it.

“First your class was late then you waltz in here late as well?” The manager berates her.

“I’m sorry sir,” Marinette tries to seem more sincere but her tardiness falls short on the things she has to worry about now.

“That class mate of yours came an yelled at me that one of our pools were dirty so we had to drain the whole thing,”

“Let me guess, sausage hair?” Marinette raises a bow, it really being all the energy she can put into the action.

“Yes,”

“Sorry sir I’ll talk with her,” Marinette promises, she slips into the changing rooms as they grumble about lazy employees.

There is absolutely no way Marinette was going to talk to Lila. She enters the changing room, a shower running somewhere. She tucks Tikki and Kaalki into her bag, Tikki had insisted she relax today, recharge and get ready to find the miraculous. She couldn’t find enough will to argue not after having to wake up in the middle of the night to fight an Akuma back in Paris.

She slowly changes into a red and orange ruffled one piece swimwear. She honestly just wanted to take a nap in here, hide away from the class and the well meaning questions from her friends. Instead she drags herself towards the shower, they are all open and there's someone towards the back standing underneath the spray in their bathers.

Something fires back at her to be careful, it puts her on edge but with miraculously potentially loose in Gotham city it’s no wonder her instincts are screaming at her. Instead she steps under the spray hoping to loosen up.

She doesn't, after standing there for ten minutes she still can’t relax. Maybe it’s the cold water, maybe its the other person. The were still standing there, they had been in the shower even before she entered the changing room. Marinette peaks over, they are still standing still, with their arm out… the same way they had been ten minutes ago.

“Are you ok?” Marinette calls, no answer, not even a twitch.

Marinette creeps over. They are standing stock still, she can’t see evidence of them so much as breathing.

“Hello,” Her voice echoes off the tiles, not a noise in the empty room besides from the shower running.

She is right behind them, they haven't even moved, arm still raised. She walks around to see their face. Frozen in a look of concentration, not so much as blinking with water running into their eyes. She follows their eyeline to see them peeling off dead skin from their arm, stretching towards their fingertips. There's a faint glow of yellow all around them, concentrated at their back.

Marinette steps away, walking out the showers, she closes the nearest door to find herself in the pool area. Her friends are on the other side. Kagami is dunking Adrien as Chloe waves her over. Marinette sprints over to them.

“No running!” The life guard yells.

But that doesn't matter, all that matters is that there is someone using the bee miraculous for evil, she has to stop them before they get another Hawkmoth. They probably have the whole miracle box! She'll need the back up.

“Mari-”

“Come with me,” She doesn't let them have another question helping Adrien out of the pool.

She pulls them along despite Chloe's protests, pushing them through the door.

“Mari what's-”

“Hush now Buttercup,”

“You were serious?” Adrien gasps, Chloe just giggles.

“Yes,” She walks over to the frozen body, “Look at this,”

“Whats-” Chloe pokes them, immediately recoiling, “The fuck?”

“They’re frozen,” Kagami does the same.

“We have to help them,” Adrien waves in front of their face, looking on in horror.

“We have to hide them,” Chloe pokes them again, getting slapped away by Kagami.

“We have to find the culprit,” Marinette races at the idea that this could be the Bee miraculous.

“We’ll do all three,” Kagami decides, getting their attention, “Now first let's put them in a stall so we don’t alarm anyone or the villain, then we need to look for clues,"

They all nod, Marinette turns the water off. Adrien tries to move their arm to no avail.

“Looks like we have to carry them,” Adrien suggests, he and Marinette each taking an arm.

“Ew, no I’m not touching it Buttercup!” Chloe cringes away, backing up as Kagami lifts a leg off the ground.

“Has that really stuck?” Adrien asks Marinette, as Kagami sends Chloe a powerful enough death glare to get her to help.

“You bet Buttercup,” Marinette grins, as they shuffle through the changing rooms to the toilet stalls.

“Fine then, I’m calling you Cupcake,” Adrien teases, sticking out his tongue.

“As you wish Buttercup,”

“Someone get the door,” Kagami commands.

“I will!” Chloe lets go of the leg, the body becoming no heavier.

They manage to fit them inside the stall without too much hassle.

“Who could have done this?” Adrien looks on sadly at the person, tilted at a slight angle to fit into the stall.

“I’ve been thinking,” Marinette speaks up, “If this is a villain it doesn't make much sense to attack a random person, and if they were trying to be stealthy they would have hidden the body,”

“They aren’t dead!” Adrien says aghast.

“Exactly, why wouldn’t a villain just kill them?”

“That's very dark of you Cupcake,” Kagami says, missing Adrien’s pout, “What’s your theory?”

“This is likely a new villain, one not ready to kill,” Marinette decides, not even blinking at the nickname, “They have something against the pool, they probably want to ruin its reputation,”

“You did say that this was a very safe pool for Gotham,” Chloe closes the stall door, “Minimal murders, so why would someone want to ruin it?”

“Insurance? Sick of their job?” Marinette’s eyes go wide in realisation, “The pool!”

She darts out the changing room the others close on her heels.

“No Running!”

“Where are we going!?”

“The manager said they were refilling the pool,”

“Why- oh my god,” Chloe gasps, overtaking the lot of them, “Run faster!”

They burst into another pool room, the pool noticeable empty with diving boards on the other end. They run to the edge of the pool. A frozen body wearing employee uniform frozen at the bottom the water slowly rising.

“Get them out! Get them out!”

Marinette jumps down into the pool, causing a splash, the water is up to her ankles, barely a centimeter from covering the person at the bottom. She runs over and tries to pull them up. Kagami makes a splash behind her running over to help. They drag the person, frozen in horror the yellow focused on their chest instead. The pool is far too deep to climb out of so they pass the body up to Adrien and Chloe.

“Who would do this?!” Adrien can just reach them when Marinette and Kagami lift the person over their heads.

“I heard the manager mutter about lazy employees,” Marinette gives one last push, Chloe and Adrien pull them up over the edge.

“So we have a suspect,” Kagami says, water rising up her leg, “We should check their office next,”

“Well, they went from no murder to yes murder in record time,” Chloe huffs, the employee safely to the side.

“It’s concerning, but they may have more of a grudge against them than the other person,” Marinette points Kagami towards the ladder to get out.

“More evidence towards the manager,” Kagami nods, letting her up the ladder first, “We should choose codenames if the manager is potentially familiar with us,”

“They did have the class roster,” Marinette nods along, then grins, “You should be Teacup!”

“Fine by me,” Kagami nods, not showing how happy she truly is with the nickname.

“Oh I want to be-” Chloe cuts herself off head snapping towards the door.

They hear scratching at the door, everyone tenses. Marinette crouches in a position to defend her friends. The door slowly creeps open and… a little snout pokes through followed by the rest of the dog.

“Is this what you wanted to see Cuppy?” A person wearing a lifeguard uniform follows in a second later.

“Excuse me is your dog named Cuppy?” Marinette plasters on a fake smile quickly pulling a nearby towel over the body.

“Yes it’s a weird name I know,”

“No! It’s perfect! On another note could we please borrow your dog?”

“Um... sure?”

“Thank you, we have to go! Careful the pool is empty!” She calls as they race out the room, the person tucked away out of sight, “Come on Cuppy!”

"NO RUNNING!"

The dog wags its tail following them out the pool area and through the changing rooms. They come to stand outside the staffroom door, dripping water on the carpet.

“Everyone ready?” Marinette asks, hand on the door, they nod and Cuppy lets out an 'off', the door slowly creaks open.

Marinette looks through to see, nothing, the hallway is desolate and dark.

“It’s safe,”

“You call that safe?” Adrien pokes his head through the door, followed by Chloe and Kagami.

“Be brave Buttercup be brave,” With that Chloe pushes him into the corridor.

They creep along the empty hallway, footsteps echoing around them. The manager's office door could be seen at the end of the hall. Gold color plate glinting in the few stray beams of light filtering through. Marinette could feel every hair stand on end, danger seeming to lurk from every shadow in the dark hall. The pressure of something ready to pounce and immobilise them at any moment hung heavy in the air, dragging them down into a pressure that-

“HIC!”

Everyone jumps out of their skins, Adrien actually hits the ceiling, rubbing his head on the way down. Kagami draws her sword, Marinette falls into a defensive position.

“Hic!”

“Chloe!

“I’m sorry! Hic! It’s not like I can help it! Hic,”

“Thats it! You’re Hiccup!” Kagami snaps, Marinette tries not to snort.

‘What?!” Chloe screeches stamping her foot, “No way!”

“Deal with it and lower your voices!” Marinette shouts, Cuppy barks along, “Not you too Cuppy?”

Another yip

“Traitor,”

“Cupcake stop picking fights with the dog and lets move on,” Adrien implores, still rubbing his head.

Marinette rolls her eyes speed walking to the manager's office before the tension rises again. The reach outside the door, Marinette counts down to three on her fingers and they burst through the door.

Inside is silent, the bright light blinds them for a second, she shuffles in front of her friends acting as a shield, waiting for them to adjust. When she does she sees the desk chair is turned away, Cuppy pads forward Marinette doesn't grab his collar in time.

He starts licking someone's hand, Marinette creeps around the desk, waiting for the hand to snap out and grab her. The others follow, surrounding the chair preparing to come face to face with the villain. She peeks around the edge they are sitting there, she freezes the others following her lead. A beat, another one, nothing. They’re frozen.

“It’s not the manager,” She relaxes, patting Cuppy’s head.

She lets out a sigh, releasing all her tension.

BAM

Turning around the door is slammed shut, a striped villain standing before it. They all drop into a fighting stance watching for the stinger on their right hand. Cuppy starts wagging his tail, trying to approach the villain.

“Cuppy no,” Marinette grabs his harness, bringing the Pitbull back.

“He’s my therapy dog,” The villain growls, Cuppy wagging his tail happily.

“Not a very good one is he?” Chloe sneers, looking the villain wearing her stripes up and down with disgust.

“Wait, you’re the lifeguard at the pool?” Marinette gasps, maybe she really shouldn't have run, “Why did you-”

“I work here, you can’t imagine the horrors I face every day, people are disgusting,” The villain shudders, this was the guy who stole the miracle box?

“Yes, but murder?” Kagami gets a nod from Chloe and hissed at by Adrien.

“My co workers are completely useless and the boss always yells at me,” A sinister smirk crosses their face, “Or at least they did,”

“So you thought murder before you thought quitting ,” Adrien points out, probably not the best time to imply a villain is stupid.

“I didn’t kill anyone,”

“Ah yeah thanks to us!”

“Shut up!” They lash out at Chloe, stinging her in a single strike.

“Run!” Marinette shouts, they all scatter.

Marinette dodges the first swipe, ducking down. They get distracted by Kagami lashing out. Marinette darts around them to get closer to the door, Kagami gets hit. Marinette reaches the door the villain comes after her, they are inches away. Adrien leaps in front of her, getting stung. With the distraction Marinette bursts out the door Cuppy on her heels.

“Traitor,” She sprints down the hall, “Did you know?”

Cuppy happily pants beside her. She can hear the villain banging around the corridor behind her and runs faster. She dodges into a room around the corner, hiding among the pool noodles. She sees the shadow pass under the door. Pause. She holds her breath intently watching the shadow, she has no one, not even Tikki. He heart beat rises, she can feel her breaths shorten, this is it, this is it, this is it, this is-

Something nuzzles her hand, she looks down to see Cuppy. He starts to lick her hand, letting her relax into it, focusing on him as the shadow continues on. With a sigh Marinette starts to take off her skirt, flipping it inside out to the cape side.

“You aren't going to tell anyone about this are you?” Marinette asks Cuppy, right before pulling up her mask, he lets out a happy bark, “Good boy,”

She sneaks out the room, looking up and down the clear hallway. She walks the opposite way of the office. She doesn't need to see her friends paralysed, she just needs to help them, she just needs to fix her mistake.

She reaches the pool area, hiding behind a lounge chair, watching through the slats as the villain gathers everyone together. Starling sneaks closer, Cuppy on her heels. There are several civilians, locals if their calm demeanour is anything to go by, although they do seem uneasy at an unknown villain. Her class is significantly less calm.

She had told them time and again that there was no coming back in Gotham, no miraculous cure. It seems for once they had decided to listen to her. Unfortunately they did not do well under pressure. Lila of course was aggravating the situation, making empty threats. The villain reared up to silence her and man, Marinette could relate.

“I don’t suppose I can wait a minute can I?” She whispers to Cuppy, he settle a paw on her knee, letting out a quiet whine, “I guess that’s a no,”

She runs up behind the villain, signalling the civilians to be quiet. Lila looks down at her, anger flashing over her face. Starling bears her teeth right back, she can just try it. Lila ultimately decides her life is more precious than petty revenge, a hard choice for her to be sure.

Starling stands up to her full height behind the villain tapping them on the shoulder. They turn around in surprise, to find her dazzling smile. But the real thing that makes them see stars is her right hook. As the fall Starling rips the bee miraculously right out of their hair, their transformation falling. Marinette stands above them as they detransform, Pollen hiding behind her. It makes her stomach churn watching them detransform, looking up at her with fear. The twisting of her insides lessens when Cuppy nuzzles up next to her. She busies herself with hiding the miraculous away.

“It’s them!” Lila screeches, ah now she can get to that petty revenge, “The one that kidnapped me!”

“Look what you did,” Staling bites instead, looking down at the villain.

“I had nothing to do with this!” Starling is highly entertained when Cuppy growls at Lila, actually getting her to back off.

“Sure you didn’t,” Starling openly rolls their eyes, grabbing the villain and hauling them up by their shirt, "Where is the rest!"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" She scowls, making them whimper, guess they really didn't know,

Shit

"Where did you get this?" She holds up the miraculous.

"I found it! it was just lying out on the street!"

Shit

"Did you see any others?!"

"No!" the blubber swearing by it and begging for mercy.

Shit

The police sirens can now be heard, Starling drops them and runs from the room.

“NO RUNNING!” She turns on her heel and glares down at the villain, “... sorry, it’s a reflex,”

She nods running from the room to change, grabbing her bag with Tikki and Kaalki on the way. After a small celebration at finding another miraculous and reunion with Pollen, they have to make a plan to find the other miraculous. They are cut short when sirens are heard outside. She wears the Bee miraculous under her ponytail, to keep it hidden from view.

When she is ready she goes to find her friends. They are outside talking to the police. Marinette only gets the chance to signal she’s ok before being intercepted by officers to get her statement. When she’s retold her account of trying to find the pool freezer she is finally allowed to check on her friends.

“Hey Cupcake, glad to see you missed all the fun,” Chloe teases.

“Sorry Hiccup,” Marinette looks her in the eye deadly serious grasping each shoulder, “You were an adequate shield,”

“Shut it,” Chloe pushes her away playfully.

“Teacup, Buttercup are you alright?”

“It was nothing,” Kagami assures.

“Didn’t you guys think their powers were a lot like Queen Bees?”

“You would know Hiccup,” She nudges Chloe playfully, “If it was I think we should keep that to ourselves, wouldn't want that information somehow getting back to Hawkmoth,”

She looks purposefully towards Lila, the others nod along.

“Still some random person now might have the miraculous,” Chloe glares down at the ground, “Can we really trust this Starling person,”

I mean no I'm operating on negative six hours of sleep, but also yes

“I don’t think we have much other choice,”

“Marinette,” She freezes at that familiar, low gravelly voice.

“Batman, sir,” She adds, trying to look like someone who wasn't chased down by him yesterday, “How can I help you?”

“I heard you knew the most about this villain,” How did she get in trouble for interrogating Lila when this is how he talks to civilians.

“Not really I just found someone paralysed and tried to find the culprit,” Marinette shrugs, hoping her friends wouldn't point out that she is lying to The Batman.

“You didn’t call the police,”

Well thats a good point, not that I would have

“... To be honest it absolutely did not occur to me,”

“These abilities were spontaneous and now they seem to be gone,” Batman points out, damn he already knows too much, “Do you know what caused this?”

“I do not,”

“Very well,” Batman nods turning away, “Go to your class,”

“Yes sir,” Marinette walks away far too quickly.

How was she going to search the city with that hunting her down?!

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

Taglist

@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16 @caffeinetheory @g-arya @Maribat-2k20 @ladybug-182 @Actual-disaster-human @fusser90 @messrs-weasley @soap-lady @paintedhope7 @zeneralla @mochegato @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster @Purplegeekypanda @awkward0ghostfan @theymakeupfairies @tikki-marinette @insane-fangirl-of-everything @elmokingkong @inarachi02 @slytherinhquinn @moongoddesskiana @dast218 @buginetye @redscarlet95 @biodad-bruce-month @hansa-12 @waiting247 @toodaloo-kangaroo @how-to-fuction-properly @trippingovermyfeet @greekmythgal @whatthefox22 @the-alice-of-hearts @bigpicklebananatree @indecisive-mess-named-me @nalu-ismyjam @deepestobservationwombat

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kjack89 · 3 years ago

Text

Impasse (Pt. 3/3)

Part 1 here, part 2 here.

E/R, Modern AU, former relationship. Being stuck together leads to the more or less inevitable conclusion.

Given the sheer quantity of alcohol the man had managed to drink, Enjolras wasn’t at all surprised that Grantaire slept through dinner and all the way until the next morning. He was also, frankly, a little relieved by it. He wasn’t entirely sure that he was ready to have the conversation with Grantaire about what he had said.

Or, worse, ready to pretend to ignore it because Grantaire couldn’t remember it.

Enjolras honestly wasn’t sure which would be worse.

But all too soon, the early morning quiet was interrupted by a prolonged groan from the futon, and Enjolras sipped his glass of water with only a small amount of sympathy as Grantaire rasped, “Holy fuck, why?”

“Bourbon,” Enjolras told him dryly. “That’s the answer also to who, what, when, where and how, in case you were planning to ask those next.”

Grantaire cracked one eye open to glare at him. “Why did you let me drink that much?” he managed.

Enjolras just gave him a look. “Have I ever once successfully stopped you before?”

Grantaire groaned again and flopped over onto his back. “No,” he said. “But you still could’ve tried.”

“Maybe I did, and you just don’t remember it.”

At that, Grantaire sat upright, and Enjolras had to bite back a laugh at the man’s hair sticking up in a million different directions. “Oh God,” Grantaire said, eyes wide. “Whatever I said, just remember, in vino veritas is more a guideline than a hard and fast rule.”

“So I’ll take that to mean there are some parts of yesterday afternoon that you don’t fully remember?” Enjolras asked carefully.

Grantaire waved a dismissive hand. “Some parts, the entire thing, something like that.” His expression tightened as he glanced at Enjolras. “I’m sorry for absolutely everything I said or did, by the way, especially if it was, uh…” He trailed off. “Untoward.”

Enjolras arched an eyebrow. “Untoward?” he repeated. “You’ve been hanging out with Courfeyrac too much lately.” He paused. “Besides, you’re fine. It was nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He meant for the latter to come off as a joke, but Grantaire’s expression didn’t change. “If you say so,” he said instead, not sounding remotely convinced, but luckily, he changed the subject instead of making Enjolras convince him. “But you should still let me make it up to you.”

“How?” Enjolras asked, curious.

Grantaire looked pointedly at Enjolras’s midsection. “Well, for starters, you can let me take a look at your ribs to make sure they aren’t actually broken.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I think I’d know by now if they were broken,” he huffed.

“Says the man who walked around for over a week with a broken wrist that you kept claiming was just a bad sprain.”

Enjolras considered it for a moment. “Fine,” he finally allowed. “If it’ll get you to drop the topic, at least. Not that there’s anything that either you or I can do if my ribs are broken, but…”

Grantaire patted the futon next to him and Enjolras rolled his eyes but reluctantly perched on the edge of the futon, hesitating for only a moment before lifting his shirt up so that Grantaire could examine his side. He avoided looking at Grantaire, well aware that the bruises certainly looked bad, and he flinched only slightly as Grantaire lightly pressed against the bruises. “Sorry,” Grantaire said softly. “I know my fingers are rough.”

“That wasn’t—” Enjolras exhaled sharply as Grantaire increased the pressure. “Ok, that doesn’t feel great.”

Grantaire hummed in agreement before looking up at him. “Well, the good news is, based on my own fairly extensive experience with a variety of rib-related injuries, I’m fairly certain they’re just bruised and not actually broken.”

“Pretty sure I said that, but…” Enjolras trailed off, suddenly very aware that Grantaire’s fingers were still lightly pressed against his skin, and he flushed, tearing his eyes away. Grantaire dropped his hand as if he had been scalded, and Enjolras tried not to flinch again at the sudden loss of heat. “Anyway, uh, thanks,” he said gruffly.

Grantaire cleared his throat. “No problem,” he murmured, and for a moment, they sat there, side-by-side, in silence, every fiber of Enjolras’s being acutely aware of Grantaire’s thigh pressed against his, of how he could reach out and tangle their fingers together or rest his head against Grantaire’s shoulder, or— “You’re lucky that it wasn’t worse,” Grantaire continued, as if he was entirely unaware or unaffected by their proximity, and it took Enjolras a minute to even realize what he was talking about.

“I know,” he said after too long a pause for such an innocuous comment. “The police were even more violent than usual, and everyone in the crowd was getting bruised and bloody, and…”

He trailed off, sudden realization hitting. “Hang on,” he said slowly, and as if knowing what Enjolras was about to say, Grantaire quickly got off the futon, making his way over to pour himself a glass of water while conspicuously avoiding Enjolras’s eyes.

As if he knew he would see the accusation there.

“Everyone was getting hit,” Enjolras said slowly, watching the shoulders in Grantaire’s back tighten as he drained the glass of water. “Everyone was getting injured. But there’s not a scratch or bruise on you.”

“You don’t know that,” Grantaire muttered, still not turning around to look at him. “You haven’t seen me naked. At least not recently.”

Enjolras ignored the obvious attempt at what could have been either a joke or a come on (or, knowing Grantaire, both). “Why weren’t you injured?” he asked instead, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Grantaire jerked a shrug. “Luck, I guess,” he said, his voice sounding equally strained.

“Grantaire.”

Grantaire sighed. “Look—” he started, but Enjolras cut him off.

“Don’t you dare lie to me. Not now, not after—”

He broke off, but Grantaire’s eyes flashed to his for a brief moment before he looked away again. “I wasn’t injured because I wasn’t there,” he said flatly.

Even though Enjolras had put it together, it somehow still shocked him to hear Grantaire admit it. “What do you mean, you weren’t there?” he asked, almost mechanically.

Grantaire shrugged again. “I mean, I didn’t go to the protest.”

Enjolras stared at him. “I thought you were calling it a riot,” he said, the words popping out of his mouth almost without thought, but it was enough to get Grantaire to finally look at him again, his own face flushed a dull, mottled red.

“Whatever you want to call it,” he muttered. “I didn’t go. I came here instead.”

“But – why?”

“I figured you’d show up here eventually,” Grantaire said, as if that even began to answer Enjolras’s question. “And before you ask me how I knew which safe house you’d go to out of the, what, five we’ve got sprinkled throughout the city, give me some credit.” Enjolras had not even thought of asking that, and wisely kept his mouth shut. “This one was furthest from the action, which means it would take longest to get here, making whoever came here most vulnerable. There’s no way you would ask anyone else to take that risk.”

That had been Enjolras’s exact thought process, but he wasn’t going to give Grantaire the satisfaction by admitting that, and besides, he had a far more pressing question. “That’s not what I meant,” he said quietly. “I mean, why did you come here?”

Grantaire just looked at him. “You know why,” he said. “I came here for you.”

“But I thought—” The words stuck in Enjolras’s throat, because he knew what he had thought, knew that he had done what he thought at the time was a kindness, but now… “We broke up.”

“I know.”

“So then—”

“Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I want you to bleed out in some safe house,” Grantaire snapped, uncharacteristically sharp.

Enjolras wet his lips, trying to figure out what he wanted to say next. “I didn’t realize you still felt that way,” he said, which wasn’t even remotely true, and probably justified the look Grantaire gave him.

“You and I broke up for a lot of reasons, some valid, some bullshit,” Grantaire said impatiently. “But none of them were because I stopped loving you.” He met Enjolras’s eyes, something defiant in his expression. “And I don’t think it was because you stopped loving me either.”

“Grantaire—” Enjolras sighed, but Grantaire didn’t let him finish.

“I don’t remember everything from last night, but I remember enough.”

Enjolras swallowed. “What do you remember?”

“I remember this.”

Grantaire closed the space between them, kissing Enjolras fiercely, hungrily, but this time, Enjolras didn’t hesitate before pulling away, just a little bit. “And do you remember me telling you this was a bad idea?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Grantaire said, his nose brushing slightly against Enjolras’s as he shifted. “But I don’t remember you telling me you didn’t want to.” He hesitated, his eyes searching Enjolras’s. “Just like I don’t remember you telling me that you don’t love me anymore.”

This time, it was Enjolras who surged forward, unable to stop himself, unable to remember just why this was such a bad idea in the first place. He cradled Grantaire’s face in both his hands, Grantaire’s hands falling automatically to his hips, the two of them slotting together perfectly like they always had.

Like they had never stopped.

They stumbled backward until the back of Enjolras’s knees hit the futon, but before he could even attempt to sit down, Grantaire had picked him up, and Enjolras automatically wrapped his legs around Grantaire’s waist. Grantaire laughed lightly against his lips. “Fucking Christ, did you gain weight?” he asked breathily.

“Shut up.”

For once, Grantaire seemed only too happy to do so, depositing Enjolras onto the futon before following after him so they could finish what they had started the night before.

----------

“Well,” Grantaire said, his voice a low rumble against Enjolras’s ear as his head was pillowed on Grantaire’s chest. “That’s a helluva way to cure a hangover.”

Enjolras huffed a laugh, tripping his fingers up the coarse hair of Grantaire’s happy trail. “That explains why you seemed to have less hangovers when we were dating.”

Grantaire carded his fingers through Enjolras’s curls. “It’s one reason, anyway,” he said quietly, before bending to press a kiss to the top of Enjolras’s head. “So now what?”

Enjolras twisted his head to look up at him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean…” Grantaire sighed, and Enjolras felt his contentment slipping rapidly away. “Fuck, Enj, please don’t make me spell it out for you. What does this mean for us? Where do we go from here?”

Enjolras sat up slowly, avoiding looking at Grantaire as he felt around, trying to find his boxers. “We don’t go anywhere.”

“Oh.”

The single syllable somehow cut Enjolras more than any of the screaming fights he and Grantaire had had, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, steeling himself. “I love you,” he said finally, not really seeing the point in continuing to deny it. “If I’m being honest with myself in a way that I’ve been avoiding, I probably always will.” He forced himself to look at Grantaire, to meet his eyes. “But we broke up for a reason, the biggest of which being that we don’t have a future together.”

“We could,” Grantaire blurted, his eyes wide, pleading.

“Grantaire—”

“No, listen to me,” Grantaire said, his tone turning urgent. “I know that I will never be everything you want me to be. But I'm not completely useless, and at the very least, I'd like a chance to try.”

Enjolras shook his head. “It’s not about that,” he said. “It’s not about you.”

Grantaire’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Enjolras took a deep, steadying breath. “My die has been cast, so to speak. And where I'm going when we finally get out of this godforsaken apartment...you can't come with me.”

Grantaire went very still. “What are you talking about?” he asked, but before Enjolras could answer, he recoiled, the blood draining from his face as he finally understood. “You're not waiting for the heat to die down, are you?” Again, he didn’t wait for Enjolras’s answer. “You've been waiting for Combeferre and Marius and whomever else to make all the necessary legal arrangements.”

Even though that part wasn’t a question, Enjolras still nodded. “Yes.”

“You're planning on letting yourself get arrested.” Grantaire’s voice sounded strangely hollow, his expression impossible to read. “And not just on a minor charge that keeps you in county lockup overnight.”

“Yes.”

“So, what, you attacked that cop on purpose?” Grantaire asked harshly.

Enjolras shook his head. “No, that actually wasn't part of the plan,” he said, because he owed Grantaire the truth. “But when I saw what the cop was doing...well, let's just say it accelerated our timeline a little.”

“Do I even want to ask why you're letting yourself get arrested?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras lifted his chin defiantly. “Because once I'm arrested, my defense team gets access to body cam footage, arrest statistics, everything they've been stonewalling us trying to get via FOIA requests. Marius will have a hundred plus subpoenas ready to go the minute I'm arrested on the grounds that my arrest was retaliatory. And if all that happens to get leaked to the public, well…”

He shrugged, and Grantaire just stared at him. “And if, God fucking forbid, you’re actually found guilty?”

“Then I'm prepared to do my time in service of all the people who are unjustly doing time for crimes they didn't commit.”

Enjolras had prepared for this moment so many times before he decided to just end things with Grantaire, prepared for Grantaire to yell and rage and tell him what an idiot he was. The breakup had seemed the easier route to take, but he should’ve known it would come out anyway, that he’d have to sit through it anyway, and he squared his shoulders, ready for anything.

Anything except Grantaire swallowing, nodding, and telling him simply, “Ok.”

Enjolras’s automatic defense of the Cause died on his lips, and he stared at Grantaire. “What?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Do you need me to repeat myself?”

“No, I just—” Enjolras shook his head. “I sort of expected you to try to stop me.”

Grantaire snorted. “I learned a long time ago that I can’t stop you from doing anything.”

“Maybe not, but…” It was Enjolras’s turn to have a sudden realization, this time seeing the stubborn set of Grantaire’s jaw, the resigned lines that braced his body. He knew what Grantaire was planning, because he’d threatened it before, during one of their fights, when Enjolras had said he was leaving and Grantaire had pinned him down and told him that if he did, Grantaire would follow him.

(“You’d follow me?” Enjolras had repeated, his anger seeping out of him. “Even if I went all the way to Timbuktu?”

“Firstly, I have no idea what you think you’d do in Mali, but yeah, even all the way to Timbuktu.” Grantaire had leaned in and kissed him. “Face it,” he had whispered, “you’re stuck with me.”)

And Enjolras could see it on Grantaire’s face – he intended to make good on that threat.

“No.”

“No, what?” Grantaire asked.

“No,” Enjolras repeated. “I know that look, and Grantaire, you cannot—”

Grantaire shrugged, nonchalant. “Well, unfortunately for you, you are going to be in police custody, so you won't be able to stop me.” He leveled a look at Enjolras. “Will you.”

Enjolras shook his head. “Don’t be an idiot,” he snapped. “I’ve made my choice, and I know it’s not one you agree with, but it is what it is. But you—”

“If you think there is any world in which I would not follow you, you're out of your damn mind.”

Grantaire said it easily, pleasantly even, but his words were edged with steel. Enjolras shook his head and stood, grabbing his clothes to give himself something to do besides sit there and stare at him. “So, what, you’re just going to commit some crime so you get arrested, too?” he scoffed. “You don’t exactly have the kind of arrest record I do. Drunk and disorderlies don’t exactly hold the same weight as inciting domestic terrorism, so it’s not like you can guarantee you’ll get sent to jail.”

“Sure I will,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “Mandatory minimums are a bitch, haven’t you heard?”

Enjolras knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Grantaire would figure out a way to pull it off. Even if it took him multiple arrest attempts, or doing something unbelievably, irredeemably stupid.

Just like he knew that he had to do everything in his power to stop him.

“I can’t let you do that,” he said sharply. “Not for me.”

Grantaire just cocked his head slightly. “Don’t you understand?” he asked, something almost gentle in his voice. “If you were in there and I was out here…” He trailed off and shook his head. “I couldn’t live like that.” His expression tightened. “I won’t live like that.”

“That’s insane.”

Grantaire shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “But like you, my choice was made a long time ago. Whether we’re together or not.” He looked up at Enjolras. “You jump, I jump. Simple as that.”

Enjolras’s throat felt tight. “You can’t—” he repeated, but Grantaire just smiled at him, and the words of protest died on Enjolras’s lips.

“I would love to see you try to stop me,” Grantaire said softly, and he stood, crossing to Enjolras to kiss him once more.

Enjolras caught Grantaire’s hand. “You’re asking me to choose you over everything I have worked for,” he said, his voice tight.

Grantaire shook his head. “I’m really not,” he told him evenly. “I learned a long time ago that the outcome of that choice would not be one that favored me.”

“But I can’t let you do this.”

“No more than I can let you go to prison without me,” Grantaire said, leaning in to kiss the corner of Enjolras’s mouth. “6 to 30 years is a long time. And I…” He shrugged, something catching in his voice. “I mean, I’d probably survive that long without you. But I sure as shit don’t want to.”

Enjolras couldn’t stop himself from kissing Grantaire again, a searing kiss that he could only hope captured everything he couldn’t bring himself to say. “What if I broke up with you again?” he asked when they resurfaced for air, his lips so close to Grantaire’s still that they were practically sharing the same breath.

Grantaire laughed breathily. “You tried that once already,” he whispered. “And yet here we are.”

“Here we are,” Enjolras repeated, the reality of it hitting him, the magnitude of what they faced hitting him. “So where does that leave us?”

“Pretty sure that was my question originally,” Grantaire told him with a smirk, though his smile faded slightly when he saw the look on Enjolras’s face. “Same place we’ve always been,” he said with a sigh. “At an impasse.”

“An impasse.”

Grantaire shrugged. “Your choice has been made, and so has mine. You jump, I jump.” He hesitated. “And even though I know I don’t need it, I’d still like your permission.”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can give you that,” he said.

Grantaire just smiled again, a little crookedly. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “But thankfully, we’ve still got a few days of being stuck in here for me to try to convince you.”

“I love you,” Enjolras said, a little desperately, even though he knew repeating it wasn’t going to change Grantaire’s mind, any more than the opposite would.

“I love you, too,” Grantaire said, taking Enjolras hand and lacing their fingers together. “After everything. Despite everything. Because of everything. And as much as I wish it were enough – as much as I wish I were enough – I get why you’re making the choice you’re making.” He squeezed Enjolras’s hand. “I just hope you understand the same.”

Enjolras wasn’t sure that he did, or that he ever would, but he knew that it didn’t matter. Not anymore. “So we’re at an impasse.”

“Yup.”

Enjolras nodded slowly. “Well. At least there’s no one else I’d rather be at an impasse with.”

Grantaire half-smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #reconciliation #former relationship #that's not so former anymore

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midnight-lightning · 4 years ago

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A Flicker Of Green

Can I request a Loki x Reader where Y/N loves Loki (and he doesn't know) but she is insecure and jealous of another girl who she thinks he likes (could be Sigyn, Amora, Darcy, or even an original character). So on Valentines day she gets all depressed when the other girl asks him out for a date. But little does Y/N know that Loki actually loves her too. How they end up confessing is up to you :) I hope this request wasn't annoyingly detailed or anything.Thank you!<3

Request By @vonaralaufeyson

Thank you for your lovely request!

Hope you like it :)

It was times like these you wished you’d have listened to your mother and kept a diary. Not to keep the memories you don’t want to forget but just to write down your feelings you couldn’t talk about with no one.

This thought made you snort. A diary? Yeah, sure and it would just go like,

Dear Diary,

It’s currently 2am and I’m lying in bed with nothing but the thoughts of him and I.

Or,

Dear Diary,

So there’s this guy… that doesn’t want to leave my mind. There’s this guy, who’s smile could make my whole day a lot better. There’s this guy who’s eyes, green like emeralds keep me awake at night. There’s this guy, who I can’t stop dreaming about him. And every time I close my eyes it’s his face, his eyes and his beautiful damn smile I see. And this smile was just for me. Because it was me who made him smile. Me. I was able to do this. And I can’t wait to do this again. There’s this boy I crave to see again, because every conversation we ever had will never be enough to fill my satisfaction. And just the thought of him, is enough to keep me awake. And even though I know the chances we ever will be more than friends are low, in fact it’s even lower than low, I can’t let you go. Because of my hope. This damn hope.

Yeah… see. That would be pretty cheesy.

You let out a groan and buried your head deeper in to your pillow. This was bad. Real bed. And still, you couldn’t help but smile a little.

You were born into a rich, noble family. Your parents always worked close for and with the royal family. So it was only naturally you grew up alongside the princes of Asgard and it was your luck they both had gotten to like you, especially Loki. Because, if we’re being honest, life would be a bit harder, if the god of mischief would have a down on you. They’d help you escape from your Nanny and hide you somewhere in the garden or in their rooms, you would together steal food from the kitchen or play hide and seek in the garden, watch Loki do his mischief, laugh, cry together and comfort each other, when life’s or parents getting tough on you.

But the last couple of days you haven’t seen much of either of them so when you caught a glimpse of red and gold, in the hallway you couldn’t help but ignore your time schedule and follow the person, who you suspected to be Thor.

The outstanding warrior he was, Thor immediately noticed that he was being followed and stopped in his tracks, his stern face lit up when he saw you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you again! How have you been the last couple of days?”

You couldn’t help but smile brightly, a happy Thor was pretty contaminating. “You know, the usual. Trying to ditch my responsibilities, helping my parents to pack for their moving and missing you guys! What was going on?” You asked a little reproachfully and crossed your arms. Of course you wouldn’t be actually angry with them not having time for you, after all they have a whole kingdom to lead.

“My deepest apologies, Y/N, we were needed to help mother at the organizations for Day of Freya. You know how much she adored this festivity and the ball.” He suddenly realized what you had also mentioned and frowned confused. “Wait, what do you mean your parents’ moving? You wouldn’t mean the Midgardian moving now, do you? “

Thor’s smile faded at the thought of you going away to another planet for years, not being able to see you nearly every day. What would become of all the new adventures you, Thor and Loki always made together? They had always been more fun with his friends than with the kingdom’s knights.

You chuckled a little at Thor’s startled expression. “Don’t worry, I am allowed to stay here in Asgard and live with my aunt.”

“Oh, what a relief. I wouldn’t want to imagine royal life without you and neither what mess my brother would be without you here.”

You froze. What?

Thor let out a loud laugh at your puzzled expression and patted your shoulder lovingly, which only made you even more nervous somehow. “My friend…It is time to finally open those lovely eyes of yours because mine have already been a while now and believe when I say my suspicions of the affections between you and my dear brother haven’t gone unnoticed.”

With wide eyes and a burning face you stared back at the God of Thunder, utterly shocked. How could he even know? “You…I! Me and…What?”

Much to your annoyance and Thor’s amusement the right words wouldn’t want to come out of your mouth.

“Listen, you’re my best friend,” Thor said with a fond smile. “And a great person and even though I would say Loki could live a million lives and still wouldn’t deserve you… I know you would make each other happy. And when you’re happy, I’m happy. I would say it’s a win-win for all of us.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the prince didn’t even give you the chance. “Between us, right now, Loki is in the ball room, probably pretending to do some work while trying to blow something up as usual… Good luck.” With a mischievous wink, that reminded you too much of a certain other prince he put his hands from your shoulder and went away, leaving you overstrained and stunned in the hallway.

As much as you loved Thor and his sometimes over motivated intentions, sometimes things changed a little too fast and too much.

Nevertheless, you decided to visit Loki in the ballroom, of course not for confessing your feelings. You just… missed him. Like, you hadn’t seen him in a while, right? And you had wanted to search for the brothers anyways.

You bit your lip, deciding if it actually was that good of an idea, but your desire to see him again, made your heart beat louder and your stomach flutter, so you gave in.

The day of Freya was already tomorrow thus the great hall was filled with servants and attendants who gathered all around to put the final touches to the already now stunning looking ballroom. You noticed the place where the food will be served tomorrow and made a mental note to memorize it, hopefully there will be Frigg pastries. Odin, the simply thought of this magnificent dessert…

But even the thoughts of your favourite food didn’t stay a chance the moment you saw Loki.

He was sitting at the water fountain and just as Thor said (honestly it wasn’t a surprise anyway) he appeared to be focused in a book he was reading.

You squeezed you’re eyes in suspicion. Surely he wouldn’t be sitting here, in a room full of stressed out and loud people in order to read? You had the bad feeling something Loki-like would happen any sec-

Sudden loud shrieks and shouts from the west side of the hall had you dead in the tracks. You whirled around to see what was going on only to have your suspicions confirmed. The place where just moments ago gold garland had embellished the wall, were now snakes either hanging around or crawling on the floor.

You turned around again to Loki, who hadn’t moved even a little and was still reading his book. His only reaction to the scenario was the hint of a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Shaking your head, you continued your way towards him, trying not to disturb any of the servants or get crashed by one in the new panic.

“This poor people have already enough stress don’t you think, your majesty?”

Loki looked up and as usual your heart stopped for a second the moment his eyes met yours. You tried to hide your nervousness with a grin which he responded with a sly smirk.

“Maybe. But I am bored.”

You sat down next to him at the fountain and gave him a stern look.

Usually you loved his pranks and mischief but if any of his actions endangered the serving of Frigg pastries the game’s over.

As if he just read your mind Loki rolled his eyes and watched you in amusement. “You need to stop worrying about the food, love, I would never put my life in danger by risking to harm your pastries. Which I’m sure would be served nevertheless.”

You couldn’t help yourself but laughed a little. Sometimes it still surprised you how well he knew you.

Still, Loki lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately the snakes turned into dust, the garlands returned and the shouting calmed down – much to your relief.

You turned your head back to Loki only to find him already looking at you with a wary gaze.

You frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“I saw yours and your family’s name on mother’s mentioning list of the people who participate as volunteers to move to Midgard. I thought you said you wanted to stay?”

Was there…hurt in his voice?

Immediately you shook your head. “No, no! Well, actually yes, but not me! Well, my name, yes, but not- “you took a deep breath a little embarrassed and Loki’s amused grin didn’t help in the slightest ways to calm to nerves. “My parents are moving, yes. But I didn’t want to leave the poor kingdom to your mischief and was allowed to stay behind with my aunt.”

He chuckled. “Don’t pretend you don’t love to participate.”

To that you raised both your hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, you got me there.”

“But I’m actually glad you decided to stay, considering the opportunity Midgard could give.”

“Midgard doesn’t have you,” you replied without thinking and immediately got the urge to slap yourself in the face. Oh Odin…

The prince tilted his head a little.

“I mean… I mean I would be bored to death down there.”

“So I am just the entertainment for you?” He teased, but you already went into panic mode and didn’t notice he was only joking.

“No! No, of course not! You’re my friend, but like more than a friend! Wait, no, I mean best friend! Not an entertainer, I mean, yes of course you are so hilarious, but also so intelligent and charming and it’s so easy and calming to talk with you and I love your compa-“

You stopped your rambling. “Why are you laughing?”

His eyes sparkled with joy. “My apologies, darling, I’m just glad we won’t lose your adorable voice for another while.”

He placed his hand on your cheek and your breath stopped.

“Besides even if you moved, no kingdom in the world could stop me from visiting you. Because believe or not, love- “he lowered his voice and bend down to your ear, giving you shivers. “I, as well, enjoy your company.”

At this time, you were sure, you weren’t functioning anymore.

He moved his head back a little, leaving not much space between your faces. Loki’s eyes flickered between yours and you noticed the small smile on his lips.

Your heart was pounding so loud you were afraid he could be able to hear it.

What mess my brother would be without you here

Thor’s words echoed in your head and a thought flashed your mind.

Could he…?

Only an inch, just an inch you moved closer, your eyes not leaving his…

With his hand still on your cheek he pulled you even closer…

You closed your eyes and-

“Prince Loki!”

Startled you opened your eyes and immediately jumped away.

A young woman was standing in front of you.

Freydís, if you remembered right.

She and her family were visiting Asgard for the Day of Freya and were close friends of queen Frigga.

“My apologies, am I interrupting something?” She asked with an excoriatingly gaze your way.

Freydís didn’t even bother to wait for an answer instead she put on a charming smile and took a deep breath. “Loki, it’s so good to see you again! I can’t wait to spend this time with you, just like we used to when we were little do you remember?”

You were unsure of how to react. She was nobility, and even if you were as well, she was at a higher position.

Freydís cold gaze met you once more and you decided the best way to not start any trouble was to leave. You knew Loki could end this, but it was better when you left by yourself, it wouldn’t be right if he we chose you, over his mother’s guests.

So you stood up. “My lady”, you bowed quickly and intended to leave, avoiding Loki’s eyes.

As you left, you heard her scoff in annoyance. “Anyway, we certainly need to dance tomorrow at the ball as Freya’s Day is basically my day too, as we share the same name-

On the way back to your apartment you needed everything you’ve got to not get angry. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but stamp a little bit too much.

By all means! How can somebody be so rude! Like, yeah, you got it, she’s nobility, a princess, who cares, there was NO need to-

Calm down, y/n

Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalm dooooooooooown.

Deep breaths.

Think of Loki, think of what he had said to you…

Oh my Odin

Were you really about to kiss him??

Oh, dear lord…

But no matter what, you had hoped, even the tiniest, tiniest bit, to be able to dance even just one, or a half of a dance with him tomorrow. But now this Freya 2.0 has destroyed your hopes.

“Y/N!”

You whirled around to see Thor coming towards you, as usual a big, happy grin on his face.

“Just noticed you walk here, how was it?” He winked and even though nothing really had happened your cheeks heated up.

You sighted a little. “It was great. Only that…well, do you know Freydís?”

Thor’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“Oh…Oh, no, don’t worry, she’ll be gone again soon, you’ll see. There’s no need to be concerned or jealous, y/n.”

At this your head shot up. “I’m not jealous!”

Thor tilted his head, smirking. “Sure. So you wouldn’t have anything against it if she would spend the ball with Loki tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

“And dance with him?”

“Nope.”

“The whole evening?”

“If he wants to.”

“What about…eating Frigg Pastries?”

At this you squeezed your eyes dangerously. “She wouldn’t dare”, you rumbled dimly.

Thor laughed out loud and shook his head. “Well, then I suggest you show them what’s in you.”

The next day you haven’t seen neither Loki nor Thor and thank Odin neither Freydís. They were all probably too engaged in the last preparations. A certain someone needed to look even more dashing as she will be at the side of a certain prince the whole evening.

You had been trying to convince yourself to not be bitter about her, Loki and the whole situation. You knew, how much you meant to Loki, even as just best friends, you were important to him and no woman, may she be ever so beautiful and charming, could… well actually she could… No, she couldn’t replace you, at least not in that way.

You shook your head in annoyance. These thoughts were making you crazy!

But still, this certain sparkling green eyes and mischievous smile wouldn’t leave your mind.

Were you even prepared to be able watching him dance and joke around the whole evening with her?

No matter what, you were determined to look good, more than good today und prepared the best dress you could find.

“Oh darling, you look stunning!” your mother exclaimed as you walked into the saloon to meet up with your parents.

“Isn’t it a bit too stunning? It’s just a ball?”

“Well, father, it’s our last ball together for a long time, after all. People shouldn’t tend to forget us, should they?” You answered winking. “I think we are ready, right, Mom?”

Your mother eyed you a little suspicious, her instinct telling her that there’s more than you tell. “Right, honey.” She nodded slowly, linking your arm in hers. “Let’s have a wonderful evening.”

The guards opened the doors and you were greeted by so shining golden light, wonderful music, people dancing, talking, sitting or eating.

“Oh, Frigga just surpassed herself once again. It’s so astonishing!” you heard your mother exclaim delightful. You smiled a little before excusing yourself for a while.

Honestly you felt good. You tried not to let the sadness inside your head, instead you wanted to enjoy this ball, this evening. You loved your outfit, and you even earned some compliments during small talks. It was difficult not trying to search for the princes as you usually spend balls and other gatherings together, but it would be probably for the best if you skipped this little tradition for today.

Anyway…you knew where you would find yourself sooner or later and frankly you hoped it was sooner, because you were already hungry.

After some more small talks you finally reached the huge buffet table and tried not to squeal in joy when you spotted the Frigg pastries on a golden tablet.

“Oh, hello my beauties. I love you so much.”

You try your hardest not to inhale them, but they are just so rarely served…

“I’m not even in the slightest surprised to find you here.”

Your mouth full with pastries you barely managed to not choke when you suddenly heard his voice close behind you.

Very close.

“You have always been so obsessed with them, I will never understand why”, Loki continued.

You swallowed the pastries, inhaled deeply and then turned around.

“That’s because you never-“ You stopped. Loki was wearing a royal suit, you have – sadly- never seen on him. Of course in his favourite colours, golden and green. The colours only making his eyes shine even more brightly.

Loki lifted his eyebrow. “Never what?”

Right. You forced your eyes back up to his face and swallowed again.

Dear Love, Y/N…straight face. You cleared your throat.

“Because you never had taste. Clearly.”

Surprisingly he didn’t answer. Instead his eyes widen a little, trying to take you all in without his eyes leaving yours even for a second.

The corners of his lips twitched a little before he bent his head a little and offered his hand.

“My lady, would you give me the honor of this dance?”

Oh dear Odin, not gonna lie… that was hot.

Once more, you cleared your throat, tying to control your emotions and ignoring every fibre of your body that shouted to just say yes.

“I thought you were reserved for Lady Freydís?”

The prince looked up in confusion. “Why would you think that?”

“I-I well, she settled for both of you to dance and she’s the princess or whatever, I mean I…”

You shut up when the realization dawned you, that no matter what, no matter who, Loki will stay Loki and always do what he wants. How could you forget that?

“I have standards, Y/N,” he said bluntly and looked as if you’d offended him.

“And I fit these standards?”

“You preset them.”

You stared at him a little taken back.

I will never be able to predict him in any way

Softly he placed your hand in his own and you let him, smiling softly when the prince lead you towards the other dancers.

You put your hand on his shoulder and Loki his other hand on your waist. You looked up.

His face was so close… Loki smiled, a breathtaking genuine smile and not even Odin could have stopped you from returning the smile.

The music started … and then you danced.

Looking back, you wouldn’t be able what music was being played, nor what you were actually dancing. All you will be remember was his eyes looking at you, with such gentleness, his smile on his lips that never vanished even for a second. There were only him and you, no one and nothing more.

“I feel the need to give my apologies for what happened yesterday,” he started.

You wanted to protest, because honestly nothing of that mattered anymore, but he continued.

“It wasn’t Freydís place to treat you in such way, princess or not and I think I made this very clear.”

At your startled expression he chuckled amused. “Don’t worry, she’s all right…I guess.”

At this you gave him a slight clap. “Loki!”

“May I notice how tremendously magnificent you look?”

“You may, your majesty. Thus I can only give in return,” you replied grinning.

And then he kissed you.

Just like that.

Both hands gently on your cheeks, stroking your hair behind your ears.

Just like that.

You stood there, surrounded by dancing couples, music playing, people talking around you.

But in this moment there was just him.

And there will forever only be him.

Loki.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #loki god of mischief #loki chat #marvel imagine #loki #thor #Thor lord of thunder #y/n #Loki x y/n

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chironshorseass · 3 years ago

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part 1 read on ao3

“So you’re telling me that you haven’t Iris Messaged Annabeth in a month?”

“She was with her cousin, Ma.”

His mother stopped the car right next to Goode—the high school he would (hopefully) be attending in August.

She turned to look at him, that motherly stern look that always came up when she knew he wasn’t telling her everything.

“What?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you say. But physically, you haven’t seen her since last January! I’m just worried that—”

“We emailed each other, though—”

“Yes, but it’s not the same.” At Percy’s roll of the eyes, she held her hands up in surrender. “All I’m saying is to…see if there’s anything wrong. I have a feeling she didn’t want to IM you for some other reason. And I know you, Perce. You have the same feeling as I do.”

He did, but that wasn’t the point. So he kissed his mom on the cheek and stepped out of the car.

“Good luck on your date! And with, um, school!”

He threw her a thumbs up and shouldered his backpack.

Too bad that luck wasn’t on his side that day.

She saw him before he saw her.

He’s grown, was the first thing that came to Annabeth’s mind.

His clothing peppered in burn holes, the smoke wafting further back, and the pretty girl chasing him was registered later.

She saw him before he saw her, and so Percy bumped into her in the alleyway. Her hands went to his shoulders, steadying him.

“Whoah!” she said, laughing. “Watch where you’re going, Seaweed Brain!”

Maybe he thought he’d be late for our date. That’s why he’s in such a hurry.

It didn’t matter. Because he was here, and he was just a bit taller than her—his hair was longer than she remembered, but his green eyes were the same, beautiful color, and...

Then she caught his panicked look. Then she caught the girl behind him and the smoke and his burnt clothing.

“What happened?”

Before he could reply, the redhead called out, “Percy! Wait up!”

Her flip-flops echoed across the relatively quiet street, interrupting Annabeth’s thought process.

“And who‘s she?”

Percy turned to the other girl and waited until she arrived next to them. He glanced at Annabeth, wincing. “It’s uh…it’s a long story.”

“You promised to explain,” the girl insisted, breathless. “About the monsters and the gods and everything.”

“Wait,” Annabeth said. “She’s a demigod?”

“No.”

At the same time, the girl tilted her head and said, “So you’re one of them, too, huh?”

Annabeth felt her mouth fall open in disbelief. She met Percy’s eyes. “You told some mortal about us?”

“My name’s Rachel.”

And my name’s I-don’t-give-a-fuck.

“She can see through the mist,” is all he said.

She shook her head. Out of everything that could happen today…and this was what Fate had decided on.

“Come on.” She tugged on Percy’s arm. “We’re leaving before whatever attacked you comes back.”

He followed her, but not without gazing back at Rachel as though he wanted to stay with her. As though it were easier than being with Annabeth. There was something bubbling in her stomach at that, something that boiled her insides.

“Wait!” Rachel shouted. “You promised to explain!”

She sprinted toward them and took out a sharpie marker she’d sprung out from thin air. Annabeth rolled her eyes. Rachel grasped Percy’s arm and began writing something that looked like numbers.

She wasn’t rolling her eyes anymore.

“My phone number,” Rachel explained. Then she winked at him. “Whenever you can, call me.”

“What was all that about?” Annabeth said. She’d already stormed ahead, taking the lead.

He tried to explain. He’d gone to Goode’s orientation tour, just like she knew he would. There, he’d been attacked by empousa cheerleaders, and thanks to Rachel’s Sight, he’d survived.

“I’d be dead if it weren’t for her,” he said, eyeing his marked arm. “I have to repay her in some way.”

“So now you have her phone number,” she said lightly.

“Uh…yeah.”

“She’s really cute.”

Percy stopped in his tracks. She stopped as well and looked back, realizing that he was staring at her exasperatedly.

“Aw, come on, Annabeth. You and I are literally dating, and I just saw her today—well, except for last year—”

“You’ve met her before?”

He scratched his head, shifting from one foot to the other. “I, uh…yeah. Last year at Hoover Dam.”

Right. When he was looking for me.

She kept walking again.

“Are you seriously upset because of her?” He tried to grab her hand, but she pulled away. “‘Beth, I never—”

“Anyway, I don’t think we can go on our date anymore.” Her tone was scathing, like sharp, twisted knives. But she didn’t care. The gods hated her, apparently, because she and Percy could never be a normal teenage couple.

“Oh, so now you can get all angry with me when we couldn’t even call properly because of your cousin? Not even a single call?”

“That empousai said that the camp would go up in flames, we need to—”

“Don’t change the subject.” He ran up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her halt. The few baby fat he’d still preserved back in winter was gone, replaced with the hints of someone older; with a harshness akin to his father, the Sea God. “How much time did you actually spend with your cousin? Honestly. He couldn’t have been with you all the time, and I tried to be nice and understanding, but did you really—”

“If what that empousa warned you about is true, then we need to head to camp. Right now.”

She left before he could talk about anything else involving her pathetic lies. Left before he could see her blinking back tears. She ran directly into Argus’ van, and once Percy had closed the door, she told the bodyguard to drive directly to camp. No detours.

They didn’t talk on the way there. She stared out the window, watching the passing farms and the cotton sky.

Her first meeting with Percy after months apart and it couldn’t have gone better.

The thing is: Annabeth had changed her mind about camp. In her plans, she’d stay in San Francisco for longer than usual, just to be as far away from Camp Half-Blood as possible. Then, she’d go to New York City, and her and Percy would be taken to camp by Argus.

But plans changed.

Her mother had come, weeks before Annabeth would leave as initially intended. For some strange reason, she’d knocked on her door like Luke all those months ago.

A spluttering Frederick had answered this time. Annabeth trailed behind him, cautious for anything.

Cautious for anything didn’t mean she’d thought Athena would ever consider stopping by.

“Mom?” she’d said, eyes wide.

After greetings were made, Athena had insisted she go to camp immediately. “They are counting on you to be there, Annabeth. You must go. Before it’s too late.”

Annabeth recalled what she’d told Luke:

“People are counting on you—on me”

But hearing it from her mother, seeing her so insistent—enough so that she’d come, personally, to her porch steps—made Annabeth reconsider.

Anyway, this was Athena. Her mother. Who was she to displease her?

So she buried all her worries about Luke and Percy and followed her; in the blink of an eye, she’d arrived at camp, Athena nowhere to be seen. Annabeth hadn’t even had the chance to ask her about why she’d decided to help, out of the blue.

But Athena was right; camp needed her. Apparently, Clarisse’s top-secret quest from last winter had to do with venturing into the Labyrinth. She and Chiron had rescued Chris Rodriguez, an ex-camper who was scouting it in the hopes of finding an entrance to camp for Luke’s army. He’d fallen victim to madness in those dark, underground walls. No one knew why—only that he needed help.

Not only that, but throughout those few weeks, she’d felt as if her mother’s face was implanted in her mind like a brand; she swore she saw those grey eyes everywhere. While she got familiar with Quintus and Mrs. O’Leary. While planning with Clarisse and Chiron. While hanging out with Silena. While scouring the forest with Grover and his new girlfriend, Juniper—searching for an entrance to the Labyrinth.

It got to the point where she lit a match and watched as dozens of olives burst into flames, in the hopes that Athena would respond.

“What do you want from me?”

“Please answer.”

“What do you know that we don’t?”

Everything.

That’s what she’d say, probably. But Annabeth would never know, because Athena never answered. She nearly burned down cabin seven because of this. In her frustration, she scooped up the remaining olives, stomped across camp, and threw them into the sea.

“Thanks for everything,” she muttered, watching the waves greedily drag the olives away.

She didn’t feel eyes burning into her neck after that, but coming back with Percy restarted the process all over again.

An owl was perched on Thalia’s tree. She ignored it, only for it to come back while her and Percy both sat to hear what the Council of Cloven Elders had to say about Grover’s search for Pan.

“Mom. What do you want?”

“Lovely way of greeting your visiting mother, I see.”

Annabeth sighed.

After reasurances to Grover that, ‘Everything will be alright. Don’t worry. I know you’ll find Pan before the Council’s deadline,’ she’d taken to the trees. To where that grey owl was perched.

The owl disappeared, however. Replaced by the goddess of wisdom. So now both mother and daughter stood, a few feet apart, while everyone else gathered on the other side. No one noticed the secret meeting.

“You prayed to me,” Athena said. “Of course I would answer. Even if you did throw the offerings away.”

To where Annabeth threw them away was left unsaid; Athena knew. She knew, and she’d likely come because of it.

Annabeth shrugged.

“You’re angry with me,” Athena observed. “Anger must be controlled, or else unwise decisions happen. Like throwing a prized possession into the sea.”

“Well, Mother,” Annabeth said, jaw tense. “You haven’t exactly been clear about why you’re following me around. Or about why you wanted me to go to camp early in the first place.”

Athena was rarely quick to anger. She calculated everything, patient and firm, just like now.

“Knowing the intentions of the divine can either be a blessing or a curse.”

“But you’re about to tell me something. About to answer me. Am I cursed, then?”

Athena cocked her head, considering.

“No,” she finally said.

There was a glint in her eyes, something that told Annabeth that she was holding back.

“Well, then...I am asking again: why are you here?”

“Because I foresee that you shall lead a quest.”

A pause. Her comment was precise, abrupt as a frigid wind. Annabeth felt herself gaping like a fish. Quickly, she clamped her mouth shut. That was all she wanted, wasn’t it? To lead a quest? But then why did she feel such a profound sense of dread?

“I came to warn you. It won’t be easy.”

She restrained the urge to roll her eyes. “Quests aren’t meant to be easy.”

“Never stray from the plan,” Athena said, ignoring her comment. Her eyes were grey as granite, face hard as marble. “I know that you can…manage your hubris, but this time, it’ll be the ultimate trial for what you can or can’t do. If you can yield or not. You and Perseus both. Hubris can be controlled, but if control itself is the problem...that is very dire, indeed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I may have made a mistake in assuming Perseus’ fatal flaw. Maybe not. In any case...you must be careful.”

“You assumed what his fatal flaw is?”

Athena regarded her carefully, like one does when studying an ancient scroll. “You can ask him about it. Since you two are...close.”

She said close as if it was a foregin word on her tongue, something she wanted to get rid of.

Of course she knew.

“About that, I don’t care what you—”

“I give you the benefit of the doubt,” Athena said, an eyebrow raised. “My children are known to make wise, rational decisions. I can only hope that you won’t become an exception to that rule. I do not approve, but it is your life. Your choice.”

Annabeth’s mouth felt like sand. Choices. She’d begun to hate them, now.

“What’s Percy’s fatal flaw?”

“Even to me, it’s uncertain.”

“But you have some idea.”

“As do you, my daughter.”

“I thought knowledge is power.”

“Yes. Knowledge is power. But how do you know that the knowledge you possess is true? How do you know if it’s not? Fate, however, is already decided; all we can do is prepare for the worst.”

“What’s going to happen, then?” Annabeth felt like she was barely able to grasp for something to hold on to, waiting— begging —for the ground to steady itself. “What will happen to Luke? What’s my role in all of this?”

Athena only shook her head. “Knowing something and having the wits to use it are two separate things.” Then she turned around, her time at camp over as well as her vague and unreliable warnings. “I must go. Good luck, Annabeth, on your quest.”

“A quest no one has even mentioned —”

“And watch for Percy Jackson.”

She vanished into the canopy, morphing into that same, grey owl. A single feather fell from the sky and settled quietly into the ground next to Annabeth’s sneakers. It mocked her, that feather. She kicked it away, then thought better of it and rubbed it into the dirt with her heel, destroying every single trace.

Your choice.

Neither her nor Percy mentioned their earlier fight. It became a discarded page, ripped off and torn into pieces like an old math textbook. It gave her space to breathe, to start over. A part of her knew that it wasn’t right, and that eventually, they’d have to talk about it—but that was eventually. This was now.

During the “now,” she filled Percy in on the Labyrinth.

(The Labyrinth will be the quest your mom mentioned. It can’t be about anything else)

He listened to everything she had to say and stayed even while Clarisse was there, too.

(Probably because they’re friends. They just hate to admit it.)

They ignored the catcalls and the teasing. She expected it, anyway.

(“So the rumors are true,” Malcolm said, wiggling his eyebrows and making her roll her eyes. “You and Percy are a thing, now.”

“Uh…yeah.”

“And you never thought to tell me? Like, I’m not surprised or anything, but—hey! Don’t hit me! Okay, fine, everyone knew since you two held hands and made gooey eyes at each other and stuff last January—stop hitting me!”)

Later, her and Percy sat together by the warmth of the campfire, roasting s’mores. She enjoyed laying her head on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. She laughed at his horrible singing and held his hand later that night, swinging their arms up and down as they walked toward cabin three.

Joking around and taking comfort in the sound of the crickets, Annabeth understood what it was like to love someone. It was a different kind of love than that of Luke. She watched him smile wide, watched the way his eyes crinkled as she rolled her eyes about Clarisse and Silena. That’s when it crossed her mind: their friendship hadn’t changed. Not really.

Even though they hadn’t seen each other for six months or so, and even though their newest step to their relationship had started weeks before that, their esense stayed the same. He was still Percy and she was still Annabeth. And that would never change.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Percy said, squeezing her hand.

“Oh, um. Just...thinking.”

“Well duh.”

“Shut up.”

He grinned at her, even as she shoved him off.

“No but seriously,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed. Her meeting with Athena had slipped into her mind like passing sticky notes and secret messages. “I want to talk about fatal flaws.”

She felt his hand tense. “What about them?”

“Just, I dunno, like...do you know yours?”

He was looking straight ahead when he said, “Your, uh, mom told me. Is personal loyalty even considered a flaw?”

“That’s what she said? That your fatal flaw is personal loyalty?”

He shrugged. “Guess so.”

So it’s true. She thinks she’s wrong.

“I mean, personal loyalty is considered a flaw, but...do you think it could be something else? Maybe?”

They locked eyes. The faraway hearth lit up his face, sharpening his features.

“Do you think it’s something else?”

“I don’t know.”

Another lie. Or was it? Could personal loyalty be his fatal flaw or could it be something else? Was Athena right? Was she wrong?

Percy raised his eyebrows. “You know something. You have that planning face look.”

“I don’t have a—”

“Uh, yeah you do. But whatever. It’s not like you know what my fatal flaw is.”

“I’m...yeah. I was just wondering since, well, I know about mine. And we’re so close to the Great Prophecy, and if you don’t know by now what your fatal flaw is, well—”

“It’s good that I know, then,” he cut in. “Good that I know my fatal flaw by now.” His eyes flicked to her. “Right?”

“Yeah. Right. Good.”

Nothing else was said after that. He stopped by the porch steps of cabin three and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, comforted like she had throughout the singalong. Comforted by Percy.

Until he closed his door and left her in the dark.

The next day, Quintus’ strange game involving scorpions and ribbons began with her being paired up with Percy. It was just their luck that they’d stumbled into the Labyrinth, of all places .

“So we’re stuck here.”

“Yep,” Percy confirmed.

“You’re not helping.”

“I’m only here for moral support. You’re the brains of the relationship.”

“Am not,” she grumbled. “You’re smart; stop pretending you aren’t.”

It was no use, anyway. She couldn’t find the mark of Daedalus in the darkness. They took a break from searching and calling for help to sit down, bunching up against a wall and leaning against the other.

“I never apologized.”

Percy’s voice in the hollow chambers nearly made her jump. She lifted her chin and tucked it into his collarbone.

“For what?” she said.

“The Rachel thing.”

“To be fair, I’d nearly forgotten.”

“Exactly. So I just…want to clear the air before it comes up again. And to say sorry for doubting you about your cousin.”

She shut her eyes tight. The truth was coming like undigested food; she was ready to spill it all out. But she swallowed the words instead—hating herself and loving this beautiful, selfless boy all at the same time. Round and round. Round and round it went.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“What are you sorry for? You were right to be angry with me. Like, all this time apart and suddenly a girl writes down her phone number on my arm , and then we can’t even have a normal date because I seem to mess that up, too.”

You’re perfect, she wanted to say. You’re perfect and I’m the one who messed everything up. Not you.

“We both reacted in stupid ways,” she said instead. “And anyway, I should’ve found the time to IM with you.”

He kissed the top of her head and mumbled into her hair, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah. I know.”

He pulled away from her. She could feel his gaze but couldn’t see him clearly. “Something’s bothering you, Annabeth. What’s wrong? What’s actually wrong?”

She pursed her lips.

“What if…what if we don’t make it?”

Her voice came out barely above a whisper, but in the drifting silence, it sounded like ringing bells, there for everyone to hear.

( “What if you don’t make it?” She could never dare to say that out loud, however. )

She felt Percy lace his fingers through hers. “We’ll be together. That’s something I know for sure.”

They chose silence after that. Annabeth rested her head against his shoulder once more, listening to the constant creaking and shifting of the Labyrinth.

“Hey,” Percy murmured.

She glanced at him. “Hmm?”

Suddenly, she was aware of his hand resting on her arm, of his breath warm against her cheek. She froze, just for a second.

“Can I kiss you?”

Now that she thought about it, they’d never kissed properly—just a quick peck here and there. She nearly laughed at how nervous Percy sounded, at how this was just like last winter as they asked permission for a simple kiss like the awkward teenagers that they were.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and leaned in. He didn’t need to look far, not even in the darkness; she was already inches apart, closing her eyes and feeling their breaths slip by.

When their lips met, she decided that surrender tasted sweet and pure, something she’d willingly do over and over again. He kissed her and nothing else mattered, not Time or the dark or choices.

He was the first to pull away.

“We’ve, um, we’ve been in here for too long,” he said. “Let’s keep trying to find a way out.”

It wasn’t long until they did.

By the time they’d managed to slip out of the Labyrinth, hours had passed. Night had fallen like autumn leaves, though she swore that they’d been in the maze for thirty minutes at most.

By the time the campers and Chiron found them, she already knew that a quest would have to be made.

Just like her mother had promised, she was chosen to lead.

From what the oracle told her, she wished she could hide in her cabin and never come out. She wished that all of this was a dream and that absolutely nothing would happen—to anyone.

“The child of Athena’s final stand,” she’d said, repeating nearly all of her prophecy once Chiron asked her about it.

She paused and didn’t say the last line. The worst line. That line had cut to her bones. A rusted knife against her throat.

“And lose a love worse than death.”

She gazed at Percy. Innocent green eyes gazed right back at her, unwavering. What a terrible person she was, that she’d lead him to this fate because she couldn’t leave without him. How weak.

“Will you come?” she breathed.

He agreed without a second thought.

He found her in her cabin. They were alone, for once. And when he asked her what was wrong, when he looked at her like that, she couldn’t take it anymore. She surged to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly and secure, so he could never go away.

She breathed in his scent, feeling tears already trickling into his shirt.

“Hey, it’s—it’s okay. We’ll survive.”

“But what if we don’t?”

His hands drifted up to her back, steadying her.

She lifted her eyes, pulling away slightly, if only to see him clearly. A varying amount of emotions crossed his face. Concern, fear, love. Until he settled on concern and flicked away her stray tears with the pad of his thumb ever so gently. His eyebrows were pinched together.

“I just…” she said, looking away. “I just don’t want anything happening to yo—to any of you.”

“I’ll be here,” he said softly, cupping her cheek and moving it in his direction so that she could understand. “We’ll be okay.”

She wished she could believe that. Wished she could believe it with the same amount of heart that she poured into the kiss that followed. Her hands tugged at his hair, lips moving along with his like they never had before. They were warm and sure, his lips. But they could easily turn blue and cold, as easily as a flame could cease to exist. So she kissed him with everything she had so that his lips would stay warm like this, forever—passed her oxygen to him until there was nothing left to give.

Annabeth also chose Grover and Tyson to join her quest. With two more people, the quest team turned up as four instead of three; a feeling told her that she needed them all.

But three is a sacred number. Not four. This is why Zoë and Bianca passed on.

Three, not four.

And lose a love to worse than—

She strolled past the moving walls, the footfalls of the rest echoing behind her. Until she stopped. They were in a lavish room with a muraled painting of the gods, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the two doorways, the two paths.

“So?” Grover asked. “Which one do we uh…which one do we pick?”

Before she could answer, a man formed—or rather, a man with two faces. They stood in between the pathways, leering at her.

“Yes, Annabeth,” said one face.

“Which one do you pick?” said the other.

She kept mulling it over, what Hera had said. They’d encountered Janus, the god of doorways and beginnings and endings. And choices.

“Choose,” they’d said.

Instantly, images had painted themselves in her mind. In one, she was looking for Daedalus alongside Percy and Grover and Tyson. In the other, she was looking for Luke. “He can be saved,” her imaginary self muttered as she trudged through the Labyrinth alone, on the brink of madness. “If I save him, there will be no more death.”

But then more flashed through her mind. Choose one pathway, and she’d lose Percy, and soon after that, she’d lose Grover and Tyson. Choose the other, and she’d lose Luke instead.

“Choose.”

Everything had come to a pause when Hera arrived. She wanted to help them, apparently—only that that wasn’t true. Gods didn’t help. They only left you confused and disoriented, spinning around with no control.

She hadn’t helped, not that it surprised her.

None of them had any clue how to navigate the Labyrinth, only that supposedly Percy knew the answer. And also that they had to search for Hephaestus if they wanted to find Daedalus.

As a parting gift, she’d said, “I delayed Janus’ visit, but be careful, Annabeth. Your choice will come soon enough.”

“Let’s rest here,” Percy said, sensing her waning steps.

Despite her exhaustion, she insisted on taking first watch. She had to think. Pray. Slowly, everyone else fell into a slumber, but her mind was wide awake, gazing at Percy’s motionless form.

Prophecies had double meanings, didn’t they?

Her world was turned upside-down once she heard the explosion, once she went airborne for a few seconds only to hit her shoulder on a jagged rock. Immediately, she felt the sharp sting of pain. She clutched her shoulder, biting her lip. Her hand came back slick with blood.

“You chose this,” the two-faced god taunted her.

Then she heard a strangled scream. Percy’s scream. She inhaled sharply and scrambled to stand up, ignoring the scuttling spider that was getting farther and farther away and the stabbing pain traveling from her shoulder to the rest of her body.

“Percy!”

She ran in the direction from which she’d come from. Too late. Searing heat slapped her in the face before she understood what was happening. Another explosion came, and this time, she wasn’t so lucky.

Her body stumbled back, rocks caving in on her.

The sky. This is like the sky—

And everything went dark.

The darkness formed into a memory:

“No! I can’t leave you!”

“I’ve got a plan—promise!” he insisted. “You follow that metal spider to Hephaestus' lair, tell him about what’s going on.”

“But you’ll be killed!”

This was the choice; leave him or stay. Stay or leave.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. From the look in his eyes, Annabeth knew that she couldn’t convince him. He was decided. “Besides, we’ve got no choice.”

Yes, they did have a choice.

No.

Yes.

She kissed him instead. A quick kiss, a promise.

“Come back to me,” she said, fighting back tears. She pulled on her Yankees cap and left, then ran.

Her sobs escaped from her rib cage by then, finally free.

She woke to that memory and nothing else, head pounding like drums. The spider was long gone, and she stumbled around, drunk with grief. It was a miracle she found Hephaestus at all.

Hephaestus, thank the gods, understood her unintelligible blabbering. He took pity on her, perhaps, because he healed her physical wounds and dropped her off at camp. Never mind that Grover and Tyson were gone, on their own path looking for Pan. Never mind that Percy…

She broke down crying for the thousandth time that day when Chiron asked her what had happened. Why she’d staggered into camp all alone. Her heart, her entire being, spilled to the floor like water from an overfilled cup.

“Four went in and one came back. Only Annabeth came back,” the campers whispered among themselves. She saw their faces, saw their horror at realizing that Percy was likely dead, Grover and Tyson gone as well without much of a trace.

It drove her to hide. She stayed in bed for the next three days, not daring to close her eyes in the fear of what she may find there.

She thought that she’d run out of tears long ago, but they came anyway. She clamped her mouth shut so as not to alert any of her siblings who were asleep.

Your choice.

For the first time in the past two days, her eyes fluttered closed. She didn’t dream of anything at all.

Clarisse came barging into cabin seven the next morning.

“Come on, Princess,” she said, staring down at her. “You’ve gotta eat.”

Malcolm stood behind her, likely the one who had told Clarisse to come in the first place, since Annabeth hadn’t listened to any of her siblings about eating.

She tried to protest, to fight. But Clarisse was strong and had a purpose; Annabeth had nothing at all. So she sat in the dining pavilion, taking her time with her breakfast and ignoring everyone’s eyes on her.

Clarisse sat next to her, making sure she finished her food.

“Slowly, okay?” she said, then murmured, “Gods, when was the last time you ate something?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Annabeth snapped.

A few minutes passed in relative silence before Silena came to their table, offering solace.

“Hey, girlie,” she said. “How are you?”

Annabeth didn’t respond. Silena softly laid a hand on her shoulder, then decided better of it and pulled her in for a hug.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” she said gently.

But it was.

Annabeth chose to leave him.

It took everything in her not to break down in Silena’s arms. Annabeth gave her a weak smile once she proposed to do something to pass the time. Like weaving, something she knew Annabeth enjoyed, being Athena’s daughter and all that.

So they did. Silena was good at it—good at making beautiful things. In the arts and crafts station, they spent most of the afternoon knitting and sewing as well, with Clarisse begrudgingly accompanying them.

She felt herself forget, her hands the only thing working. Not her mind. Not her subconscious or her guilt or her worry and fear.

It lasted only a moment. Because then she saw what she’d been working on for the past hour. Subconsciously, Annabeth had created a shroud. A beautiful one at that, with different hues of blue and green—just like his eyes. Just like the sea.

As if sensing her distress, the two girls looked up from what they were doing.

Clarisse said, “Is something wro—”

She didn’t need to say the rest, because Annabeth found her legs already moving, racing out the door.

“Let her,” she heard Silena say. “Give her space.”

She didn’t look back, sprinting to the one place where she knew Percy’s presence still thrived. Where she could be reminded that he would come back, just like he promised.

“I’ll be here.”

Cabin three didn’t look like much. Granted, she could barely focus on anything but her breathing—which was rapidly increasing its pace—but even so, she was reminded of how simple yet welcoming cabin three was in comparison to Zeus’.

It smelled like him. Like walking down the beach on a sunny day. Everything was as it always had been—clothes splayed haphazardly on the ground, bed unmade, stray papers adorning his nightstand.

She crumpled to her knees on the worn wooden planks. A great sob escaped her, and she covered her face with shaking hands

“He’s gone, Poseidon,” she cried. “He’s gone, and—and I’m so sorry.”

That night, she threw up everything she’d eaten.

“It is time,” Chiron said, his eyes dim with pity.

He preferred demigods dead, it seemed, than to try and look for them. She’d begged. Pleaded. Fallen to her knees until they bled. But it was no use; her teacher was convinced he was dead, and by the time the second week passed without Percy showing up, he was declared as such.

“He’s powerful,” Clarisse had told her. “I trust your instincts. He’s not dead. Can’t be, or else I’d have to beat him up.”

She helped Annabeth try to talk Chiron out of the funeral but to no avail.

And he wasn’t. Annabeth knew, in her heart, that Percy wasn’t dead. Barely anyone believed her, however. She didn’t blame them; no one knew about the last line of the prophecy for her quest.

But a pestering voice reminded her of something else: Percy was not, by any means, her only loved one. That voice sounded eerily like Janus.

What if it’s Luke?

He was nothing to her, now. She swore that he wasn’t.

What if Percy is dead?

That’s when Silena squeezed her shoulder, repeating what Chiron had told her the day prior.

“It’s time.”

Everyone who had gathered by the Amphitheatre waited for her to give out her statement, grim-faced. Chiron stood at the center of it all, the shroud she’d made at the arts and crafts cabin in his hands.

She hated that shroud with all her being, but she took it anyway once she stepped the last of the stairs. The fire next to her kissed her cheeks like the warmth of the sun. But inside, all she felt was cold. His body hadn’t been found…yet the shroud that she clutched in her hands would burn with Percy’s life.

“He…” Her eyes drifted to the shimmering cloth. How could she ever describe Percy Jackson? How could she ever put him into words? “He was kind,” she began. Her voice was unrecognizable, even to her. “He was probably the bravest friend I’ve ever had, and…”

And then she saw him, grinning like an idiot behind everyone else.

“Bravest friend you ever had?” was the first thing he said, after their bone-crushing hug.

She wiped her tears away and laughed. For the moment, she didn’t care that he hadn't answered her frantic questions.

“Where have you been?”

“What happened?”

He was here and he was alive. Her arms still clung to his neck; she wasn’t sure she’d ever manage to fully let go.

“You’re my friend above everything else, Seaweed Brain. And yeah, I guess you’re pretty brave.”

A question formed at the tip of her tongue—the one asking once more about what had happened in that explosion, where he’d been all this time; she knew that Percy could tell.

He was about to say something when Chiron interrupted them.

“My boy,” he said, mainly addressing Percy. “We need to talk.”

Percy’s demeanor changed like the shock of icy water to the face.

“Uh, yeah.” Something passed through his eyes; he glanced at her, then at their teacher. “I know how to navigate Labyrinth.”

Her relief became a ghost of the past once he explained himself. He told them the plan for the next part of the quest—for finding Grover and Tyson and finally Daedalus—but all she could hear was her ears ringing.

“I was marooned on an island.”

“I uh…I stayed there for some time, healing from the explosion.”

She was almost certain about where he’d been. And then he’d mentioned his plan to find Rachel, the pretty redhead who wrote her phone number on his arm. Supposedly, she could help them.

“A clear-sighted mortal,” Chiron had said. “Clever, indeed.”

Only it wasn’t. It was her quest. Her choice. Not his.

Annabeth stood from her chair. The screeching noise made Percy wince. “I can’t believe you! You’re asking me to go to that mortal for help?”

Chiron’s eyes were soft when he said, “Annabeth, calm down—”

“No, I’m not calming down, because Percy here wants—”

“It’s the only way,” Percy said, hands wrung together.

“Ohh don’t tell me what’s ‘the only way’ and what isn’t when you could’ve easily come back sooner.”

Percy opened his mouth, but she talked over him.

“You think I’m stupid? You think I’m dumb?”

“No, ‘Beth, I—”

“You were with that goddess,” she said, her voice taking a hard edge. “Calypso, isn’t it? Was she nice company for you? Did you have a good time while I sat here, waiting for you, as my life spiraled out of control because one of the most important people in my life was gone?”

Percy stammered, “‘Beth, please…just—just let me explain.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You’re not denying it, either. That’s why you didn’t recount the entire story of your fun little vacation in a beautiful island with a beautiful goddess who was probably all over yo—”

He stood up then, leaning over the table, face inches apart from hers. “Don’t act so high and mighty with me when I know you lied to me about your cousin.”

“Percy, this isn’t even about—”

“No, no. You’re hearing me out. Okay? Hey, stop. Look me in the eyes. Nothing happened between us. Okay, nothing. She liked me, yes, but that is literally her curse! I knew you’d react that way because I’m realizing that you don’t fucking trust me!”

“What? Percy, I trust you with my life—”

“Then how come you never told me what was bothering you?”

“Because I don’t know what was bothering me!”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you! You know exactly what bothers you. But guess what? You won’t tell me! So like, don’t even dare accuse me of not revealing where I was when you do the exact same thing, ‘Beth!”

Annabeth felt like falling, but this time, she found no branch to hold onto and crashed to the ground, bleeding out and breathless.

Meanwhile, Percy kept talking, throwing javelins her way. “When you didn’t want to communicate via IM last semester, I agreed because I wanted to give you space to whatever the fuck was going on with you—and something is still going on, but you won’t tell me—and like, all that time while I was with her on that island, I wanted to go!

“I wanted to be with you! Shit, I don’t even know what I’d do without you, but I couldn’t fucking leave because that place is cursed! And when I did, it’s because she’d…she’d fallen in love with me! But I…but all I wanted was you!”

Silence fell over them with the remnants of Percy’s hard breathing. She blinked a few times, telling herself that she would not cry.

Chiron saved her before that could happen. “Now, children. Settle down. Percy. Give Annabeth some space to think about this.”

He obliged, much to her relief.

“This time, it’ll be the ultimate trial for what you can or can’t do. If you can yield or not.”

It all came down to that, to her mother’s words. She understood what they meant, now.

With just enough drachmas in her bag and a bluster assuring her that she would not fail, she grabbed Percy by the hand and crossed the camp border. Argus was waiting down below.

#pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #pjo au #the battle of the labyrinth #look mom i can write #omg me updating?? so soon?? unheard of

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squeeneyart · 3 years ago

Text

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 25

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger

Nothing to do but talk.

Martin and Jon settle in for a movie night.

The documentary, if it could be called that, was absolute bunk.

Littered throughout were vague interviews and wild assumptions on the part of the very on-screen director, all tied together with a final push for people to purchase a very specific brand of smoke detector. And the low quality of the video couldn’t be blamed solely on Martin’s internet.

They watched the thing from start to finish, though, and by the end of its 70-minute runtime (“I should’ve guessed by how short it was,” Jon had grumbled partway through) their viewing had turned primarily to Jon taking the piss out of it. Academically, of course.

On Martin’s end the film itself was bad in an enjoyable way, and while he didn’t have the context for all of Jon’s complaints it was easy for him to listen. He’d even made some jokes that got Jon to snort.

He did have to sit uncomfortably straight to keep from leaning against each other. Jon had turned it a bit so they could both see, but when viewed from too hard an angle the picture looked even worse. So, Martin did his best to give Jon space and not let the effort distract him from the screen.

All of this being true, Martin was grateful for the horrible film. Nothing filled silence better than movies and television, so the nights following they settled into a routine. Someone would make dinner (with no further… outbursts) and then they would find something to watch. Afterwards they would say goodnight and Martin would escape upstairs to decompress with his little notebook.

Jon’s original idea had been to find something related to their goals. However, after another let down on night two involving a very old retrospective on the mid-century fishing industry (“Wrong century,” Martin had said about five minutes in), Jon dropped the idea, thus opening up a whole new world of cable television and old vhs tapes on night three.

“You bought yourself a laptop but never had a dvd player?” Jon yawned, getting comfortable on his side of the couch.

“We sort of… skipped it?” Martin dug through a box of tapes for something worth watching, sifting through sappier options and 80s action flicks alike. “Dunno how, but we never got one. The laptop ended up being the first thing I ever had to play dvds, but the telly is too old to be hooked up to it. S’fine, though. I like tapes.”

“And you never get bored of it? Flipping between tapes and whatever’s on at a given time?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “I have a phone for other stuff, obviously. To be honest I don’t watch a lot to begin with, nothing new anyway.”

“Hmph. Same for me,” Jon conceded, sinking further into the couch. “Feels like there are other things I could be doing.”

“Except for now?”

A wry smile. “Special case.”

Martin’s stomach did a flip. He didn’t feel guilty, per se, but he wished he had something for Jon to work on to stave off the boredom. Everything had been so quiet with Peter gone and Simon’s waiting that no new leads had popped up. It wasn’t fair that Jon had to sit around doing nothing after wandering about in the sea for weeks. The least he could do was provide some entertainment.

“Hm. Right, how about this one?” Martin looked back and waved a vhs set. It was some old fantasy series with a group of children on the cover standing in a hallway. “Haven’t watched it since I was a kid, but I remember liking it.”

“Two tapes’ worth?” Jon glanced up at the ceiling. “It’s in episodes, right?”

“Yeah, though if you’d rather find something else…?”

Jon waved his hand. "No, I can’t spend the whole evening making up my mind. If we don’t like it, then we can find something else.”

With that settled Martin popped the tape in and took up his seat. On the other end, Jon sat with the blanket pulled to his chest. He wore a new set of pyjamas Martin had picked up at the shop along with a few other things to save Jon from having to wear the same clothes day and night.

The show was a simple series meant for children, easy enough to follow in plot that some side chatter didn’t interrupt things too much. Honestly, Martin was glad they weren’t paying a whole lot of attention. He hadn’t watched it in years and wasn’t looking to be embarrassed.

A few minutes in, the children from the cover were running up the stairs to explore a large house. “Safe to assume you don’t have siblings?” Jon asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s just me. You?”

He snorted. “Even if my grandmother wanted another child running around, I was enough to deal with.”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “What, were you a terror?”

“I’d use the word ‘adventurous’, but she would’ve agreed with that description. If we’d been in that house,” Jon gestured toward the screen, “she would’ve been in trouble. Until it ate me or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how it goes?”

Jon frowned. “That’s- No, I mean if it were real it would probably mean harm. Supernatural houses aren’t trustworthy entities outside of fiction. In fiction they’re mischievous at the least.”

“Can’t imagine that, a building that likes to mess with you,” Martin said, grimacing. He really didn’t remember much about this story. Maybe that was how it went? “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I wasn’t into spooky things back then.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but I’m not letting my guard down,” Jon said. He watched as the children walked up a spiral staircase. “Would you have wanted siblings?”

Martin considered this. “I can’t imagine having them? But an older sibling would’ve been nice. Someone to know better and help me with things.”

“I think any other child would’ve found me irritating, older or younger. Best to keep to myself,” Jon said dryly. “Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes, you can imagine the additional worry of raising a child who could explore the ocean like it was the woods. It’s not like she could follow me in.”

“I bet… She wasn’t like you, then?”

Turning back to the television, Jon said, “No. She was from my father’s side.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t tell if the question was wrong to ask, so looked back to the show. It was luck of the draw, then, whether someone was born with a selkie skin. Perhaps there was nothing to do with genetics in circumstances like this.

Back on the screen, one of the children had chosen to wander outside into the beginnings of a snowstorm with no thought to the cold. Outside the real world window it had begun to hail, and Martin realized how frigid it had become both outdoors and in.

“Well, at least this story is right for the season,” Martin said, standing up. “I’m gonna grab another blanket.”

With a start, Jon looked at him and held up the one he was under. “Do you want this one? I don’t-”

“N-no, that’s fine!” He walked briskly out of the room, feeling rude and stupid. All Jon had offered was for him to use the damned thing, not share it. And it wouldn’t have fit both of them even if he had meant it that way!

Opening the hall closet, he tried to calm down. He peered at the pile of folded sheets and blankets, lifting each layer to search for one he liked. There was a flannel one somewhere, deceptively warm for how thin it was-

Oh.

Tucked far down into the pile, far back enough so it was hidden if the one above wasn’t lifted, Martin saw something dappled and grey and out of place amongst the linen. Jon had left it to dry completely beforehand, so the surrounding fabric was unwrinkled. Considerate. And in a decent hiding place all things considered. It was a shame Martin had gone and ruined it.

He sighed, grabbing one of the blankets at the top that he’d initially passed on. Once he reached the doorway to the living room, he stopped and stared at Jon who was doing his best to seem unperturbed.

“So, I saw it,” he started, squeezing the blanket in his arms into his chest. “I use that closet a lot, if you want to put it somewhere else.”

Jon winced and stood. As Martin let him pass, he mumbled, “Right. I’ll just-”

And then Martin was left to sit back on the couch and wait, pausing the tape out of courtesy.

When the skin had disappeared from the shower that first morning he hadn’t considered anything but Jon hiding it, and there was an awful satisfaction in knowing he was right. He rubbed his arm and stared at the blanket in his lap, still neat and folded.

After a couple of minutes, Jon returned empty handed and resumed his seat. Pulling his blanket back up, he said, “It’s nothing… personal.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath and pressed play on the old remote, letting the child continue their new solo adventure. “I figured you hid it.”

“I appreciate that you told me.” His voice was stilted and unsure. “That you found it.”

“Sure, whatever helps.” Unfolding the blanket, he pulled it up to his shoulders and leaned on the arm rest. He could feel Jon fidgeting in place, turning the blanket so it faced the right way and making it tuck under him in the right places. Martin kept his eyes ahead.

Finally giving up on any further adjustments, Jon slouched into place. “It does help. I know my caution can come off as distrust, but genuinely I just… I need to keep it hidden. I need to know where it is and to be the only one who does. For now.”

“You… don’t need to justify anything.” Martin sighed and had to fight back a yawn. “It’s your coat.”

A grunt of frustration. “No, you don’t- It’s not a rational thing. I trusted you enough to tell you the truth, and yet I was barely into my first night here before I panicked and stowed it away.” He sat upright and let the blanket fall to his lap, quiet distress written across the lines of his forehead.

Grasping for words, Martin said, “You still haven’t known me that long. It’s not wrong to be careful.”

“That’s not the point,” Jon replied quietly, resting elbows on knees. “It hasn’t been all that long in the grand scheme of things, but a lot has happened. I consider you a friend. And yet I can’t stop feeling like everything is about to go wrong if I’m not careful.”

The hail continued to slam against the window, almost overpowering the sound of the television and the faun describing the witch’s plans. On the far side of the couch, Jon remained hunched over his own knees with his face bent in irritation.

A wave of shame broke against him, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Carefully, Martin scooted over just enough to reach out a hand. His trembling fingers hovered just an inch away, brushing against the fabric of Jon’s shirt before coming to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Jon whispered, massaging around his eyes with his fingers. He reached his free hand up to tentatively cover Martin’s, giving it a tiny squeeze. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Do you… want to keep watching?”

Jon nodded, shaking himself out a little. Martin released the gentle grip on his shoulder, though he didn’t move away. They both settled into the back of the couch and watched.

The child had gone back inside with the shivers, but no one was to be found. Around the halls she wandered, calling her siblings’ names with indignation that slowly turned to concern and then to fear. Eventually she was running, and it wasn’t until she was on the upper floor that one of her brothers popped out to scare the living daylights out of her.

Deep down he remembered this part making him cry. Perhaps siblings weren’t worth it with how cruel children could be.

Martin coughed. “You explored the sea as a kid, then?”

Jumping slightly, Jon said, “O-only a couple of times. And not far from the land. And it’s not as fun when you can only grab one thing at a time, with your mouth. I sorely missed my pockets and picking up sticks.” As he spoke, he resumed the more casual tone from before with modest success.

“You thought checking out the sea with no real limits was too much of a hassle?”

With a roll of his eyes, Jon said, “It wasn’t entirely that. Eventually my grandmother warned me away from it. Told me about dangerous animals that absolutely weren’t native to the coast where we lived.”

“Great white sharks?”

“Surrounding our seaside village on every watery side, ready to eat hapless little seal boys who didn’t listen to their nans.”

Martin chuckled, relaxing further into his seat and listening to Jon go on about all the ways his grandmother had tried and failed to reign him in. He could see it, a younger, scrappier version of the man next to him stomping around the woods and climbing fences.

The instinct wasn’t all that relatable to someone like Martin who’d kept to the front porch on nice days, but it sounded like an adventure. Maybe it meant he was less likely to get eaten by an evil wardrobe out of the two of them. In his position he could only hope that was the case.

They called it for the night when, out of nowhere, a man suddenly appeared at half opacity screen and let out a screeching noise to close out an episode, making Jon laugh in a way that only could’ve been from exhaustion.

Martin lingered downstairs for a while after they shut the television off. It was Friday, after all. For many reasons they couldn’t go out to a pub, but without the need to get up early he could afford to stay up a little longer and listen to a sleepy Jon talk over the tapping on the window panes.

Tim: not next weekend, but the one after i think. finally time to call it on preparation and get down to business, if this is something we can be prepared for

Martin: encouraging

Tim: look its been rough over here, alright?

Martin: i know, sorry. itll be easier to talk once we’re all in one place

Tim: yeah

Tim: things are ok over there, then? youre sounding better

Martin: ?

Tim: it was starting to get scary if im honest, how quiet you were

Martin: oh, sorry. things are fine, just didnt have a lot to say

Tim: yeah, i get it. its hard to fill the space. dont be a stranger though. in a few weeks we’ll be there to get you out of this mess

Martin: looking forward to it

Sighing, Martin looked from the private chat to Jon, who was ignoring his breakfast to type away at the laptop. “Sounds like the others are making plans to get here.”

Jon looked up briefly. “Good. It will be… nice to see them.”

“And show them you’re not dead?”

Ignoring this, Jon said, “How is Tim doing?”

He glanced back at his phone. “Worried. About a lot of things, I think.”

“Thinking of how he’s going to break my disappearance to you, no doubt,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. He avoided Martin’s eyes. “That’ll be resolved soon enough.”

Martin poked at the eggs on his plate. “He… lost someone, didn’t he?”

It was only for a moment, but Jon froze in the middle of setting his mug down. He seemed to struggle with an answer.

“It’s fine if you can’t say, but he implied as much,” Martin said gently.

With a frown, Jon shut the laptop. “Sasha knows more than I do, but yes. His brother, a few years ago.”

“Oh. That’s… really sad.” He leaned back in his chair. “He seems like he’d be a good brother.”

“I’m sure he was. He certainly looks out for us.” Jon took a bite of his toast.

“As best as he can,” Martin added sheepishly.

“Once this is all finished he’s earned a vacation.”

Yes, they’d all given poor Tim their share of heart attacks. Martin had managed to several times in the last month. But at least when the time came Tim would see that both of them were alive and themselves and able to apologize for making his and Sasha’s lives just a bit harder than they needed to be.

Once it was all finished.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin #selkie au

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years ago

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Chapter 19

chapter list / previous / next

Tallpaw was crouched low in the long grass of the pastures. He wasn’t searching for any prey, instead he was just sitting alone in the empty fields, looking in the direction of the twoleg barn. It had only been a couple days since his disastrous attempt at tunneling, and his father had been making a point of avoiding him, giving him nothing more than a distant glare. By now, everyone in camp had heard about the incident. He didn’t know what Heatherstar had to say about it yet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. No one brought it up but he always felt like they were watching him with pity, or worse, scorn. Tallpaw hadn’t been able to focus at all, and had slipped away from team hunting training with Shrewpaw after he’d missed his third catch. Shrewpaw had gotten fed up with him and growled in frustration “Just forget it, I’ll just catch something myself and say we caught it together!”

He felt terrible. He had no idea how to make the cats he cared about happy. Dawnstripe wanted him to focus on moor training, Sandstone wanted him to become a prodigy tunneler, he had no idea what his mother wanted at all.

He wasn’t sure he felt worthy to train as anything anymore, he wanted to curl up under a gorse bush and stay there, not have to ask any cat for anything ever again and have no cat ask anything of him. It was a cowardly wish. And it wasn't like him to desire hiding in the undergrowth. Maybe that was why he had found himself walking towards the northern treeline, and why he now crouched at the outskirts of the farm, the woodland strip behind him blocking the breeze. He hadn’t consciously intended to come this way, but this is where he was. Just somewhere far away where he couldn’t disappoint anyone, where the wind wouldn’t catch his scent and invite anyone to come after him.

Tallpaw shouldn’t be in the pastures, he kept telling himself that, but some part of him was so desperate for some respite from the anxious buzzing in every part of his body, he was willing to try anything. His tail flicked restlessly. I don’t even know where Jake is, this was a mouse-brained idea. But before he could get up and leave, a bright orange shock of fur bounced out of the grass, making Tallpaw jump.

“Tallpaw!” Jake cried, “You’re back already! I didn’t think you’d come out this far again. I saw your tail in the grass and knew it had to be you. I was practicing my stalking, did you hear me coming?”

Jake looked so happy to see him. Tallpaw managed to get out a purr, “I didn’t. You’re a fast learner.”

It certainly wasn’t a lie, but mostly because Tallpaw had been too busy arguing with himself to pay any attention to a kittypet sneaking up on him.

Jake studied him, his eyes narrowed in slight concern “You doin’ ok? You seem a little down.”

“I’m fine,” Tallpaw lied. It didn’t sound convincing even to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was confess what a mouse-hearted stunt he’d pulled before when he went into the tunnels, especially not when Jake had tried so hard to encourage him before.

“I won’t make you spit it out. I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.” Jake said politely.

Tallpaw hummed quietly but he avoided Jake’s gaze “I really just wanted to make sure you were doing ok. How are you?”

Jake seemed happy enough to oblige Tallpaw’s push for a change of subject. He told him how he caught a tiny mouse after a kestrel dropped it, and was practicing swatting at birds, and how his twolegs had been extra nice to him that day. Tallpaw still had some doubts about that last part, but he wasn’t going to interject about it today. Although Jake didn’t mention the obvious tension Tallpaw held in his body again, there was more understanding in his deep green eyes then Tallpaw would have expected. He had thought of Jake as a bit of a flighty cat who didn’t pick up on emotional cues very often, but he got the feeling the kittypet was perhaps a lot more perceptive than Tallpaw had been giving him credit for. Maybe his friendly nature wasn’t a result of naivety, maybe he was just… like that by choice. He was just nice. Why was that surprising? He smiled softly to himself as Jake talked.

“You know,” Jake said, “I’ve been getting a feeling lately that somethings going to change for me soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it. I just feel it in my gut. I finally met some of those nicer cats you mentioned, Reena and Bess. I thought about what it would be like to travel the way they do, it sounds so fascinating. ”

“Are you...considering it? Leaving with the visitors?” Tallpaw wasn’t sure he could picture it. Though he had to admit Jake and Reena had a similar friendly disposition.

Jake shrugged. “Oh I don’t know about that, they seem nice but I barely know them. I’ve never been a stray before. I think I would miss my housefolk too much, you know? It upsets them when I disappear. They’ve been acting strange lately, moving stuff out of their den for days. I have a feeling they're getting ready to leave, and I think I may go with them.”

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea. Don’t you like it here? You can’t just let them take you! You don’t even know where they’re going to go!” Tallpaw said more quickly than he intended.

Jake flicked his tail casually. “Yeah I know, but I’m not that worried. The rest of my family went their separate ways like this, and honestly I never imagined I’d stay here my whole life. Just staying put in the same place? I always wanted to see somewhere new. I guess I’m just going to see where life takes me”

Jake seemed so chipper at the idea, but Tallpaw was surprised at how sad he suddenly felt at the idea of the kittypet leaving. He shouldn’t be here, he knew that, but...it was nice to have something to himself. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. Tallpaw didn’t think about how stressed out he was in camp when he went to see Jake. He didn’t want to lose this, as selfish as it was. Well, he thought. My father wasn’t really wrong, was he? I’d rather do anything to run away from hardships. Of course this is where I’d end up.

“Well...good luck.” Tallpaw said quietly, “I should get going. Maybe it’s for the best. I’m breaking the rules coming here so often.” He turned very abruptly to leave, painfully aware it was probably rude.

“Oh! well...I’ll see you Tallpaw!” Jake called with some uncertainty.

Tallpaw wasn’t sure that he would, and felt a hollow pang in his chest at the thought. But he shouldn’t have run off and left Shrewpaw to do the assignment alone. But when he got back to the moor, instead of Shrewpaw, he was surprised to see Reena and Sparrow padding along the treeline. Tallpaw’s first instinct was to worry, but he remembered Sparrow apparently already knew he visited Jake sometimes. Reena waved her tail when she caught sight of him. She smiled in a friendly way, but the rest of her betrayed her worry. Sparrow wasn’t even looking at him. He kept staring down at his paws.

“Hello Tallpaw,” Reena said. “Have you seen Hen or Mole? They suddenly aren’t in camp and no one is sure where they’ve gone.”

“Hen? Not recently...I think I saw her just outside camp when I left early this morning.”

“Well she’s not here, so we should look somewhere else,” Sparrow hissed, already padding away.

Reena dipped her head to Tallpaw apologetically. “Well...if you see her or Mole...please tell them to return to your camp. Hen hasn’t been doing well, we’re worried about her.” With that, she turned and hurried after her companion.

***

Shrewpaw was waiting for him with a small rabbit and a disgruntled glare as Tallpaw tried not to look guilty. He was hoping he’d find the other apprentice soon enough to still be able to help.

Shrewpaw just gave an irritated flick of his tail. "Whatever. This gets us back to camp faster. I’m tired. You can owe me for it later.”

On the way back, Tallpaw scented the air carefully and kept his ears pricked for any sign of Hen. Such a frail old cat surely could not have gotten far alone, but he still didn’t see any sign of her or Mole. Hopefully they hadn’t gotten lost.

A very tired looking Briarpaw was the first cat to catch them.

“Hey Briarpaw,” Tallpaw called. “You haven’t seen Hen around have you? Reena said that she’s wandered off.”

Briarpaw looked grim. “I’m afraid we have.”

Tallpaw expected the worst judging by the look on his friends face, and his suspicions were quickly confirmed.

“She wanted to go on a walk with Mole. Apparently she needed to stop and rest while out on the moor, and she just...didn’t wake up again. Some of the warriors found Mole laying with her and had to carry her back. Hawkheart tells me she was already passed before they got her to camp. We’re not sure what the visitors will want done.”

Sure enough, when they walked into camp, there lay the still white shape of Hen, with Mole pressed close to her side. Tallpaw was a bit stunned. He had never actually seen a dead cat before. She had been alive just before he left, and had even spoken to him not long before that. And now here she lay, her fur messy and tangled with bits of thistle that Mole was attempting to lick out of her fur. Tallpaw felt a twinge of guilt then.

“She had to have gone at almost the same time as me…” He murmured to himself. “I was so distracted when I left to catch up with Shrewpaw. Perhaps if I’d paid more attention...They shouldn’t have been allowed to go walking around.”

Briarpaw pressed his nose to his shoulder softly. “A walk on the moor isn’t what killed her, her sickness was one beyond our powers to cure. She died with her mate at least. Cloudrunner and Brackenwing have gone out to find the rest of their friends.”

Tallpaw nodded solemnly, but he still felt bad. The visitors were so lively and kind--most of them anyway. He really had hoped they would be able to help.

Bess and Algernon returned shortly, approaching Mole with their heads bowed as they both in turn pressed their noses to their old companions' bodies. The clan stood back in quiet hesitation. There wasn’t a ceremony to perform for cats who weren’t clanmates, but no one wanted to step forward to offer condolences yet either, so they were silent. Do Sparrow and Reena know yet? Tallpaw thought. Sparrow had seemed so sure Hen would get better soon. However prickly and unapproachable the little loner could be, Tallpaw wouldn’t have wished this on him, or any cat. He didn’t envy whoever had to break the news to him. Who knew how he would react?

Unfortunately, they didn’t have to wait long to find out. Mole hadn’t moved from Hen’s side until he heard the two young cats’ return. Sparrow stood rigid at the top of the shallow slope leading into camp and Mole began to limp over to him, standing in front of him as if he wanted to block his view. Tallpaw was too far away to read Sparrow’s expression or make out Mole’s hushed words until eventually he heard Sparrow raise his voice, tight as he fought to keep it steady.

“Then why did we even come here!?” he snarled, “we only went so far out of the way because they were supposed to help us, and most of them didn’t even want to!”

Sparrow’s sharp gaze snapped towards Hawkheart and Briarpaw, who sat some distance away from the body of Hen. Hawkheart didn’t give much away but he narrowed his eyes at Sparrow’s accusing glare

“She didn’t get better at all! If anything she got worse, did they even try? They just wanted us to leave, the quicker she was gone, the quicker we were gone. Is that it?”

Tallpaw was afraid Hawkheart would turn on the little cat at the accusation, but he didn’t even ruffle his fur. “My orders were to treat her to the best of my ability, so that is what I did. My feelings played no part in it. There was a sickness forming from the mass inside her. It was already taking her life when she arrived here. All the herbs and remedies StarClan has gifted us could not remove what was already set fast.”

“Then why was it so fast?” Sparrow looked back at Mole. “She was alright not more than two moons ago, and she could still walk when we got here, why didn’t we have more time at least if their healers were good for anything?”

“Sparrow, please,” Bess’s voice was firm, but raspy in barely concealed grief. “This isn’t what Hen would want at her place of passing. It was her time.”

“I don’t want her to be here. She shouldn’t be here.” Sparrow's eyes darted around to the staring strangers surrounding him. He looked like he wanted to spit more insults but couldn't find the words for them as he dug his trembling claws into the soil. Mole stepped closer, but Sparrow backed away and was gone back through the entrance in a heartbeat.

Reena insisted on going after him to make sure he was ok, although Tallpaw couldn’t help suspecting he'd want to be alone, away from prying eyes idly observing his pain. It was hard to blame him for that.

Heatherstar eventually approached the small group and offered to keep vigil for her in the camp.

“Thank you for your kindness, Heatherstar,” Bess said quietly, “but we will find our own place. Wherever we bury her for her final sleep must be carefully chosen, and it can’t be here.”

They took several moments to rest before they attempted to carry her. Tallpaw spent a long while watching them silently grieve in their own way. Hen looked a bit like she was sleeping on her side, if it were not for the stiffness in her limbs, all the more noticeable when the visitors lifted her body between Algernon and Bess and slowly made their way out of camp. That unnerving scent he had smelled on her earlier came to him again. Unmistakably he knew it was the scent of death. Where would a cat go if they did not know their way to StarClan? Where was Hen now? Was she anywhere?

Tallpaw couldn't help the curiosity to look over the ridge around camp to see where the visitors were taking their friend. They were out of sight, but he did see Reena not too far off, looking around with her tail and ears drooping. Tallpaw felt an urge to approach her, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. She caught his gaze and offered a small friendly blink that he took as a sign it was alright to come closer.

Tallpaw dipped his head. “I’m... really sorry about Hen. I’m sorry we couldn’t help.” It didn’t really feel like much, but it was the best he could think to offer.

“I believe that you all did what you could. I’m just glad she was with Mole at the end…" she said.

“Did you find Sparrow?”

Reena let out a small sigh “No. I suspect I won’t. He is good at not being found when he doesn’t wish to be. I’m terribly sorry for his outburst, he’s really a good cat deep down, but...this will hurt for some time. He'll find us himself when he’s ready. We won’t lay her body to rest until he does. Now that we have no reason to hurry, we will probably travel back south to the housefolk town for the cold seasons, give ourselves time to recover. We have friends there that will make finding shelter and safety easier.”

“Will you continue on your travels as you did before?” Tallpaw asked meekly. He didn’t have time to wonder if that was inappropriate to ask after he’d said it. He wasn’t sure the right way to navigate around this topic.

To his relief, Reena gave him a small smile. “We will, eventually. There was only one thing Hen ever asked of us, and that was for us to continue telling her stories after she was gone. It all started because of her, and she wanted nothing more than for it to outlive her. You know, I really am grateful we got to perform that story to you all. It was one of her favorites. So...Thank you for giving us a chance to tell it with her one last time.”

Tallpaw walked along with her for a short ways. He hadn’t planned on it, but it felt like the right thing to do as Reena spoke.

“I think we all knew Hen’s time with us was running short, even if we didn’t want to admit it. We hoped we’d be able to get her to the sea first.” Reena trailed off with a little sigh. “She was so excited to take Sparrow there. This would have been his first time. She was so much happier when we found him as a kit. Those two were closer than anything...We’re confident she will still travel with us, and we’ll guide her spirit home to the sea come next newleaf. She always believed we all end up where we are meant to be sooner or later, in this world or the next.” She paused, looking ahead to the far woods. “I should join my family now. I hope your clanmates will forgive us being a bit distant for a little while after all your hospitality...Thank you for walking with me.”

Reena touched his nose briefly and padded away. Tallpaw could only wish the strange cats well. Even when he couldn’t see them anymore, the image of Hen’s body unnerved him and lodged in his mind like a burr.

He had a memory that was perhaps not quite real before this moment, of a still body no bigger than a mouse lying close at his side, stiff and covered in that distinct scent of death. Death shouldn’t unsettle him as much as it did, but it made him feel terribly lonely. He wished he took comfort in the ghosts that Reena’s family believed in. To him, StarClan still felt so quiet and far away, if anything more of a stern distant force staring over his shoulder to judge whether or not he was behaving as a worthy descendant of his clan. Ultimately, this sadness wasn’t meant for him. He wasn’t a visitor, and he could not afford to dwell on grief like them. Not for cats, or kits, he never really knew.

The life of a warrior meant living alongside death closely, an unforgiving force that could strike the life from a cat that he’d known and walked with just days before. He knew it was something he should accept, and feel no fear towards. But Tallpaw still hoped in vain that he would not have to meet it again.

chapter list / previous / next

#cw animal death #cw self loathing #FRU19 #chapter 19

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midnightsnyx · 4 years ago

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Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 7

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

a/n: we’re near the end! i hope you guys enjoy this part and thank you for reading <3

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none but FLUFF

Part 7

32 weeks

Ignoring tradition, you and Matt decided to have a single baby shower with everyone invited instead of a separate shower and a pamper party. It was more convenient for everyone and one party was less clean up, so bonus. What you weren’t expecting was for so many people to show up. You knew Matt had a big family but you didn’t think so many of them were invited. But, you did give Chantal and Taryn free reign to plan it so really, you shouldn’t be that surprised.

Most of his family was great and you get along with them wonderfully, especially some of his cousins who are around your age. But then there are the older women who are supposed to be mature, yet are giving you dirty looks and whispering things to each other.

It makes you self conscious because you know exactly the kind of things they are thinking and saying. It’s the exact same thing you’ve seen from some of Matt’s “fans”. Comments about how you got pregnant on purpose, and how it’s a shame now that Matt is stuck with you. You knew the comments were just people who were trying to get under your skin but knowing that some of his family and friends might be thinking the same was hurtful.

You do your best to ignore it though and focus on the people who are actually nice to you, answering all the questions they have about potential baby names, what brands you’re using for the baby, and other purposeless things. But the feeling is always in the back of your mind so at one point, you slip into Matt’s bedroom so you can just breathe for a moment.

This, of course, just gives you more time to worry about what people are thinking about you and how they’re judging you and before you know it, you feel like you might cry.

Stupid hormones.

A knock on the door breaks you from your thoughts and you look up to see Matt standing there.

“Hey,” he says quietly, shutting the door behind him and walking over to sit next to you. “you disappeared.”

“Just needed a minute.” You tell him, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks but the looks he gives you says you should know better by now.

“What’s going on inside your head?”

You shrug, not knowing how to explain without insulting his family. You don’t want him to think that you don’t like them, but you know he won’t leave you alone until you tell him why you’re upset.

So you try an approach you think he might understand.

“Do you ever feel like you’re being judged?” You ask quietly.

“All the time.” He answers easily. “Comes with the job description.”

“So you understand how it feels.” You say and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is that what this is about?” He nudges you. “You can’t possibly think they’re judging you, Y/N.”

“But they are! I see the looks some of your family and friends give me. It’s like they think I got knocked up on purpose.”

He shakes his head. “Who cares what they think?”

“You should care about what they think.” You say slowly, raising an eyebrow at his dismissal. “They’re your family.”

He shrugs. “You’re my family too.”

He says it so casually, so effortlessly and it’s like something just clicks in your brain and suddenly you have this overwhelming want, no need, to kiss him.

And that’s exactly what you do.

He doesn’t move at first when you press your lips to his, almost like he’s unsure about what to do and for a moment, you’re worried that you’ve ruined everything but then his hand comes up and cups your cheek and he kisses you back. You feel like you might melt straight through the bed and floor when he smiles against your lips and it’s absolutely perfect until Brady barges in the room.

“Where’d you guys- oh.” Brady freezes, eyes widening before he smirks. “Oh. I see what’s happening here. I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Brady.” Matt whines, dropping his head on your shoulder. “You’re ruining the moment.”

“Sorry! People were asking where you went!” He starts backing up and winks. “I’ll come up with a cover story. Have fun kids.”

“Brady.”

“Leaving! I’m going now!” He says, darting out the door and shutting it behind him.

Matt lifts his head, resting his chin on your shoulder instead of moving away. His eyes study your face as if he’s searching for any sign of regret but you smile to ease his worries.

“That was nice.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Just nice? I think I can do better than that.”

“Okay, it was better than nice.” You giggle, feeling giddy. It’s a bit of a foreign feeling.

“Kind of overdue, huh?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You been wanting to kiss me, Tkachuk?”

“Oh, just since we met. Y’know, not that long.”

“Matthew.”

“What? I’m serious.” He says and then sighs. “I know I kind of fucked up when we first met. I was a bit of an ass-”

“A bit?” You tease and he gives you a dry look but you know he’s not actually mad.

“Hey, I’m trying.”

“Sorry.” You say solemnly. “Go on.”

He presses his lips together to hold back a smile. “You were funny and witty and kind from what Johnny had told me so I asked him to introduce me. Probably wasn’t the best idea to do it when I was drunk but he’s always had bad timing.” He shrugs. “He’d mentioned that you were fresh out of a tough relationship and I just… I don’t know, I just said the first thing that came to my mind and drunk me thought it was funny. Which obviously, it wasn’t.”

“I know we’ve already kissed-” he points to your stomach. “clearly, but I’d like to think of this as our first kiss.”

You grimace. “That works for me because honestly, I don’t remember much of that night.”

“I must have been doing something wrong, then.” He jokes.

“Guess you’ll have to show me again.”

He grins. “Deal. But first, I’m taking you on a date.

. . .

“I knew he’d come around.” Taryn grins, finishing the last of your makeup. When she heard that Matt was taking you on a date, she begged you to let her help you get ready. You were going to ask her anyway because you wanted to spend as much time with her and Chantal as you could before they went home. It was unlikely you would be able to see them again until after the baby is born and that thought freaks you out because you’re nearly 33 weeks and your doctor told you that you can deliver as early as 37 weeks.

So you only have about a month left to prepare yourself for childbirth. Luckily, Chantal has been so helpful, answering any questions you have and you feel so blessed that you have her to help you through this.

“I knew it was coming too.” Chantal says from her spot on the bed. You’re half certain you saw tears in her eyes when you told her that Matt had asked you on a date but you cried too so you can’t make fun.

“You guys have been hoping for this, haven’t you?”

Chantal shrugs and hides a smile. “Maybe.”

Taryn nods. “The way you two look at each other totally gives away your feelings. It’s weird seeing Matt like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nice. Honestly, a little unsettling.”

“Taryn.” Chantal scolds and the youngest Tkachuk raises her hands.

“I’m joking.” She mutters. “Kind of.”

Chantal just sighs but smiles when she looks at you.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your face turns pink from her compliment but it does mean a lot knowing that Matt’s mom approves of you despite the unusual circumstances. You know that some parents might have had reservations about the situation you and Matt are in but Chantal and Keith treated you with nothing but respect and kindness since the start of this and you will forever be grateful.

“Well, you’re all done.” Taryn says, stepping back to admire her work. “You’re going to knock his socks off.”

“Even being 8 months pregnant?” You ask hesitantly.

“Especially being 8 months pregnant.” Chantal assures you.

Her assurance makes you feel a little better but when there is a knock on the door, you’re suddenly extremely nervous.

“Come in!” Taryn yells and Matt pokes his head in with a grin on his face. When he looks at you, his eyes go wide and mouth drops a little.

He stutters over his words which makes you feel better.

“Cat got your tongue, Tkachuk?” You ask, trying to hide the pleased look on your face.

He shakes his head and grins, walking over and taking your hands in his. “Just admiring how beautiful my girl is.”

“Your girl? Awfully presumptuous.” You joke but your heart warms at his words. You can hear Chantal literally awe.

Matt just grins and leads you out of the apartment and to his car. He even opens the door for you and you raise an eyebrow but don’t comment.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?” You ask when he slides in the drivers seat.

“Nope.” He says, sending you a sly grin.

You know it’s pointless arguing with him so you just smile back and rest your head on the seat, watching out the window until you reach your destination.

. . .

Matt knows you better than you thought because instead of bringing you to a fancy, high end restaurant, he brings you to a small but cute diner the two of you frequently go to. He knows it’s your favourite and it make you happy knowing that he notices small things like this.

“This okay?” He asks once the two of you are seated. He looks a little nervous and you want to get rid of any worries that he has.

“It’s perfect,” you assure him. “I love it.”

And you, you nearly say and you almost fall out of your seat at the realization.

Do you love Matt? You care for him deeply, that’s not a question and you know your feelings for him have been shifting lately. The kiss proved that, but were you confusing love, with infatuation? Or were you starting to actually have those feelings for him?

The better question is whether it’s a good idea to let yourself have these feelings right now because while this is nice, the two of you are about to be parents and any strong feelings like that can make things messy, especially if Matt doesn’t feel the same way.

You know you’ll have to acknowledge and deal with these feelings soon but for now, you let yourself enjoy the night, stealing fries off Matt’s plate while he pretends not to notice and arguing playfully about baby names.

It’s a problem for another night.

......

a/n: i wanna be like OH WE GOT THE FIRST KISS but technically this isn’t the first kiss because, well, you know

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames fanficton #allies writing

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

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Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Dark [Prologue]

Monologue

ーー That burning feeling inside my throat,

is the sole thing which vividly remains in my memory.

Crackling flames flare up.

People scatter about, tears streaming down their faces

as they call out someone’s name.

And I, ran straight towards

said fire.

It’s hot. So incredibly, unbearably hot.

Yet, I desperately dashed forward.

Swallowed by the flames and smoke,

I could barely still see my own feet with my dried out eyes.

I could barely even breathe,

as the heat assaulted my throat.

Even so, I attempt to shout.

ーー Wanting to find someone.

ーー Wanting to save someone.

???: ( ...Who? )

( Who am I looking for amidst the flames? )

???: ーー ...ar!

???: ( I don’t know. I can’t remember. )

( Who was I searching for? Where was I? For whoーー? )

???: Bear!

ー A young Yuma wakes up and finds himself in town

Lucks: You’re awake?

Bear: ...Boss...

Lucks: Are you okay? You were groaning in your sleep again. (1)

Bear: Yeah...

*Rustle*

Bear: ...What’s with that face, huh? Whatcha grinnin’ for?

Lucks: It’s because you always look like you’re about to cry when you sleep. What’s wrong? Did you dream about your mommy again?

Bear: ...As if! Don’t treat me like a kid!

Lucks: Haha! My bad, my bad! Come on, eat this. It’s today’s grub.

ー He throws some food at him

Bear: ...Where did you pick up fresh bread?

Lucks: I didn’t pick it up, I secretly took it. Of course...Making sure nobody saw me?

You should hurry up and learn how to steal food (2) without getting chased after as well. I’m sure you’re fed up with getting beat up after being caught?

Bear: ...

Lucks: Well, it’s a common beginner’s mistake. Come on, just take a bite already. I’m sure you’re starving after tossing and turning around in your sleep?

Bear: ...Thanks for the food.

Lucks: Now I think about it, quite some time has passed since you hit me up, huh? You still can’t remember anything?

Bear: ...Nothing.

Lucks: I see. Well, if only it was that easy, huh? Have your burns healed yet?

Bear: They’ve gotten way better thanks to the medicine you gave me.

Lucks: I see. Isn’t it rough to be missing your memories?

Bear: ...Well...It is, but...

But, I don’t want to force myself to remember either. I feel...comfortable staying here with you after all.

Lucks: You get to eat without getting beaten up as well, huh?

Bear: ...That’s not what I meant!

Lucks: Haha, I’m joking. Well, if that’s what you want, you can stay here as long as you’d like. The gang likes you as well.

It’s just...Things may not stay this peaceful for long.

Bear: Did something happen?

Lucks: There’s been suspicious movements amongst one of the gangs at the neighboring city. The one lead by that nasty guy sporting a mohawk (3).

Bear: Aah, that idiot whose hair looks like a chicken’s?

Lucks: Yeah...He has already done a number on three of our gang members. If they won’t back down, we won’t be able to avoid a conflict forever.

Bear: Hmph! I’ll take them on at any time! They may think they’re strong together, but they’re no match for us!

Lucks: Haha. When it comes to your built and vigor, you really are formidable. You’re totally one of us now.

...Honestly, I know that continuing doing this won’t solve anything.

Bear: Boss?

Lucks: Say, Bear? Do you like this city?

Bear: ...What do you mean?

Lucks: Exactly as I said it. Take look at those worn down streets and houses. ...This city has started to rot.

All of the aristocrats and politicians keep on running their mouths about revolution or reforms and how it’s all in the best interest of the people but...This is the reality we have to face.

In the end, it’s only the rich people who get to benefit of it. (4) On the other hand, the number of children like us who end up on the streets is only rising.

But no matter how ashy and grey the city gets, only the sky is still...

Look, it’s this blue...Underneath the blue sky who doesn’t belong to anyone, status or family does not matter.

I believe that all humans are equal and deserve to be free.

...However, I am also aware that such utopian dreams will never come true in this rotten city.

Bear: ...

Lucks: That’s why I’ve decided I will guide this country towards the right path.

To achieve this, I have to fight my way to the top. Of course, using a method other than violence.

Bear: ...Seems like you have a long way ahead of you.

Lucks: It’s frustrating but I’m still a child right now. I’m not stupid enough to think I can win against adults who have political power. I know that this will be a long fight.

But you know, I also want to know just how far a single orphan raised in the filthy slums can go.

Now that I’ve told you all of this, you’ll have to watch me till the very end, Bear. From your VIP seat right next to me.

Bear: Hah, I just hope you don’t drag me into the grave with you.

Lucks: Just give up if that happens. You were out of luck, getting picked up by me.

Bear: ...Guess so. I do feel like I owe you one.

A huge debt, for giving me a place I can call my own...That is.

Fine then, I’ll stick with you. Until the day...This world changes.

ー The screen fades to black

Yuma: ( Exactly, that was our dream. )

( For us brats who had no money, let alone power, changing the country, or even the world, that was the real Utopia. )

( ...However, it’s strange. )

( Boss, I’m sure you can do it. That’s what I ended up thinking. )

Monologue

A city thorn apart by the destruction of war.

in the very corner of the slums laying in the very back of said city,

that is where I lived at that time.

About my life before that,

I could not remember a single thing.

At some point, I found myself laying on the ground,

of this filthy back-alley. Why was I here?

Where did I come from?

I did not even know who I was.

That’s the kind of situation I found myself in.

ーー Yo, what’s up?

A young boy called out for my puzzled self,

greeting with a tone,

as if we had been long-time pals.

That was Lucks.

ーー Got nowhere to go?

Come with me then.

The moment he spoke those words without asking about what happened,

without a single hint of hesitation.

I was at a loss for words,

deeply moved by this boy.

I felt indebted, as well as respect for him,

even a little envy...

But the most accurate way to describe it, would probably be admiration.

And that is how,

I decided to live alongside this person,

who was the leader of a gang.

Based on my physical appearance,

I was given the nickname ‘Bear’.

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: Haah...

( It may have been decided by drawing a card, but how could I have picked such a scary-looking person... )

( He punched me when I was brought here, and he goes around calling people ‘Sow’... )

( I wonder if I’ll be okay, having someone like that watch over me...? )

Yuma: Hold it, Sow! (5)

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Don’t just be wanderin’ ‘round like ya own this place! If ya wanna have a look ‘round, at least ask me for permission first!

Yui: ( Speak of the devil...! )

Yuma: Che. Ya really not tryin’ to hide that you’re displeased, huh? ...I’m not exactly thrilled to have to babysit ya either, ya know!?

But well, guess I have no other choice.

Oi, I’ll only tell ya this once so listen up. These are the rules attached to becomin’ my personal toy.

Yui: Toy!?

Yuma: I’m not wrong, right? My own toy which I can use as I please, whenever I want to. That’s what ya are, right?

Yui: I-It’s my first time hearing about that...!

Yuma: Do I really need to go out of my way to tell ya? That’s what Sows (6) are for, right?

Yui: ( ‘Toy’ and ‘Sow’...That’s just too cruel... )

Yuma: What? Got a problem with it, huh?

Yui: R-Rather than a problem...

Yuma: Aahn!?

Yui: ...!

( Uu...Yuma-kun really is scary with that tall physique and loud voice of his...! )

Yuma: ...

*THUD*

Yui: !!

Yuma: Can’t hear ya very well!? This toy came with a mouth, didn’t it!? Speak up a lil’ more, aahn!?

Yui: ( He’s even more scary when he towers over me like that...! )

I-It’s...nothing...

Yuma: Che, you’re so annoyin’. If ya can’t say, don’t try and mutter a halfbaked response.

This is exactly why I hate chicks who just stand there pissin’ their pants the whole time.

You’re on the same level as a farm’s pig if ya can’t even voice yer own opinion out loud.

Listen up, Sow. Watchin’ those kind of people makes me gag.

Yui: ( He doesn’t have to put it so bluntly... )

( ...However, it’s true that I’m frightened and that I can’t talk back... )

Yuma: Haah...What a fuckin’ pain in the ass.

If it turns out ya don’t taste better than Sugar-chan, I really got the short end of the stick.

Yui: ( Sugar-chan...? Could he be talking about sugar cubes? Also, he’s eating them plain... )

( I wonder if he likes sweet stuff...? )

Yuma: Well, I’ve got no other choice now that I’m chosen. There...!

Yui: Ow...!?

( He strongly wrapped his hand around my throat...!? )

Yuma: Woah there, don’t make a fuss. I’m actually holdin’ back so I don’t snap it in two.

If ya struggle too much, I might end up puttin’ in some strength.

I might just break yer neck even if I didn’t mean to?

Yui: ( I don’t want that...! )

( But it hurts and it’s hard to breathe, so I can’t just keep still...! )

*Thud*

Yuma: Did I not just tell ya to keep still!? ...Che, ya really are a pain. Come on!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...He loosened up a little. It’s somewhat less painful like thiーー )

Yuma: Dont get the wrong idea.

You’re a damn infuriatin’ woman. But it seems like ya are the chosen Eve after all. I’ll handle ya with care for now.

Well, either way...Ya chose me. Even if it’s a drag, I can’t alter said truth.

Yui: ( I didn’t choose him myself though... )

Yuma: That being said, ya better try yer best to become a toy to my liking, capiche?

Yui: Why...me...?

Yuma: Hah. Haven’t those Sakamaki’s already treated ya badly plenty of times anyway?

Yui: That’s...

Yuma: What? Tryin’ to play hard to get now? Don’t cause me any more trouble!

*THUD*

Yuma: Come on. If ya understand, do as I say. If so, I’ll treat ya decently. Hehe.

Yui: ( ...! )

Yuma: Looks like ya don’t like the ring of that? Heh. Perfect.

Ya should have just been honest back then. Don’t be havin’ regrets now...!

ー Yuma bites her

Yui: !!

( Ow...! He suddenly...! )

Yuma: Nn...Nn?

Yui: ( Uu... )

Yuma: ...Haah...Heeh...Guess this is to be expected of Eve? Ya taste quite nice.

Nn...Hah...Amazin’...The blood’s so sweet...Just like sugar...No, even sweeter?

I wasn’t lookin’ forward to havin’ to watch over some chick’s sad ass but...Hehe, in this case, it might actually be kinda fun.

Yui: Please, stop...

Yuma: Hah, already havin’ regrets? Didn’t I tell ya...!?

Yui: Uu, ah...!

Yuma: ...Hah...

Yui: ( He keeps on thrusting them in and pulling back out...I’m becoming numb from the pain... )

Yuma: Hehe...I think it’s annoyin’ when a woman goes quiet after I yell at her, but I don’t dislike chicks who keep silent durin’ this kinda thing?

I wouldn’t mind if ya expressed yer desires, or let me hear some nice cries...tho!

ー He pushes Yui away

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...!

*Thud*

Yuma: I’ve had enough. I’m sleepy too so I’m done for today.

Well, guess now ya just have to try yer hardest to be in my good grace, huh?

Yui: ...

Yuma: Hehe...See ya, Sow.

ー Yuma leaves

Yui: ( ...No matter where I go, I always get treated like this. )

( Although I still can’t believe...I actually want to have my blood sucked myself. )

( If I could, I’d honestly love to go to a world without any Vampires... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The verb うなされる or ‘unasareru’ refers to both ‘having a nightmare/bad dream’ as well as the noises and movements accompanying it.

(2) He uses the term ‘to supply’ or ‘to raise’ here, but it is obvious from the context that they are stealing food.

(3) They describe his hairstyle as トサカ頭 or ‘tosaka atama’ with ‘tosaka’ referring to a cockscomb.

(4) Literally he says they are the ones who ‘get to suckle the sweet nectar’.

(5) そこの or ‘soko no’ is a set phrase shouted when you want to stop somenoe in their tracks. You will often hear it being used by the police and such when they spot someone suspicious. Usually it is combined with 君 or ‘kimi’, in which case you can translate it as ‘You over there!’. In this case, I had to alter it a little because he uses Yui’s nickname ‘Sow’.

(6) The word メスブタ or ‘mesubuta’ technically means ‘Sow’. However, it is also a common slang word to call somewhere a ‘whore’ or ‘slut’.

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<- [ Yuma prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbyumadarkprolog

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manicmarsupial · 3 years ago

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The Smallest Outlaw - Chapter 4: Snow Idea What's Happening

A/N- Hey yo, I'm back on my bullshit. Long story short: moved house during a pandemic, injured my back 3 days into moving, spent 6 weeks unable to go through boxes to find the folder I put the ideas into.

I am writing this story...just not in order. And fiddling around with one-shots, stalling by coming up with other ideas (including one I came up with while a machine a work kept needing recalibration and it's now at 92 pages on GoogleDocs with loads of help from @tiny-james)

As usual, throw some ideas my way. Anything goes. Whee!

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I don’t know when I fell asleep. I’m no longer on a wooden surface in front of the fire. Judging from the feeling, I’m still wrapped up in Hosea’s scarf…and it’s dark. One surface I’m resting against is moving steadily. Occasionally I can hear a deep thump.

I try to adjust my position to get more information. I hear a questioning hum reverberate above me. A sliver of light above me widens. As my eyes adjust to the light, I see the towering figure of Hosea. I unconsciously attempt to retreat.

“Mornin’ Ollie,” he smiles as he looks down at me.

I look around. As well as being wrapped up in his scarf, he also had me under his coat. That explains the movement and the thumping.

“Morning,” I mumble in return.

I cover my eyes and hide back into the scarf, whining about bright light. Hosea’s chuckle rumbles through his chest as I feel the woollen material close around me. I brace myself as I feel my confines move.

“You have an explanation due,” I hear Hosea’s voice almost directly outside.

I emit a grumpy ‘no’ sound and burrow further into the scarf.

“Are you going to continue this stubbornness?”

“Yah huh.”

“Just my luck,” he mutters with a sigh.

Honestly, now I kind of feel sorry for him. I scrabble my way to the open part of the bundle, only to pull part of the scarf over my head like a hood due to the cold air nearly freezing my ears off.

“I can’t tell you what’s going on, because I don’t rightly know,” I admit with a shrug.

“How is that possible?” Hosea raises an eyebrow.

I think about this. Should I tell this giant stranger about myself? He did admit that he and his friends were outlaws. Outside, there’s wolves, bears, and a blizzard. Inside, a whole lot of giant outlaws. My question is, which is more dangerous? Well, if these guys wanted to kill me, I’d be dead already.

“Because two days ago, I was human.”

A brief look of disbelief crosses Hosea’s features.

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Your pointed ears were off putting.”

“My what?!” I exclaim.

Hosea looks confused, then smiles.

“You obviously haven’t seen yourself in a mirror, have you?”

“Uhhh, no. I woke up with my hotel bed the size of a barn and lit a shuck anywhere else. No time to preen,” I admit, hesitantly moving my working arm to one of my ears.

They’re pointed, as Hosea said, but much longer and stick out. At my surprised realization, they twitch upward.

Hosea chuckles softly and my ears flick at feeling the exhalation of his breath.

“At least you’re entertained,” I grumble.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up in Colter?”

“I stowed away in someone’s satchel. Turned out he was an O’Driscoll. Not my best decision.”

“An O’Driscoll? Do you remember which way they were heading?”

I try to recall what direction the horseman was going.

“Uh, North East, I think.”

“Ah, we’ve already run into them,” a dark look passes briefly over Hosea’s face.

“What about your arm?” any sour attitude regarding the O’Driscoll’s has gone.

“Oh, the horse bucked. I landed badly, then staggered over here for shelter.”

“How are you still unconvinced that I was human?” I ask on seeing Hosea’s dubious expression.

“It sounds too simple.”

I shrug off my makeshift hood and go to search my bag, but I don’t have it.

“Where’s my satchel?”

I’m sure I had it with me.

Hosea shifts me to one hand then rummages through his pocket and pulls out my bag. It’s positively dwarfed in his palm. I move one hand to take it from him, then reconsider. I just spill out the contents.

“If I wasn’t human, all that would be too much of a coincidence,” I gesture to the two food tins, my journal, and a small amount of coins.

Hosea raises his hand closer to his face to inspect the items.

“Awake already, old friend?” Dutch enters the room with a booming greeting.

“Just talkin’ to little Ollie here,” I feel my ears flick in irritation at the nickname Hosea just referred to me as.

“What have you found out about our latest acquisition?”

“Used to be human. Ended up in Colter by accident,” Hosea answers, passing Dutch the stuff I had poured into his hand.

He inspects the items before placing them back into the bag.

“And how is Ollie feeling?” Dutch hands me my satchel.

“I’m a tiny human with a broken arm and a thin coat in a blizzard. I’ve had better days.” I grumble.

I recoil as Hosea brings his other hand up, but he only rearranges his scarf to cover my shoulders.

“At least you’re no longer stuck outside alone,” he smiles.

With that in mind, this isn’t one of my worst days.

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Hosea had left the cabin to discuss something with the other gang members, something about another missing member. I kept myself busy by reading…trying to at any rate, the book Hosea always has.

When you had no-one to teach you as a child, it’s a hard thing to teach yourself. I’m no exception. I understand enough to know it’s a crime story. It doesn’t take long for me to focus all my attention on reading.

My ears flick as I feel a short gust of warm air from behind me and a familiar chuckle.

“Sorry, probably should have asked you first,” I mutter, grabbing the cover of the book to close it.

I’m stopped by Hosea’s massive hand over mine. I track my eyes up his arm to look up at his face. He’s kneeling next to the small table.

“I would never have taken you for a reader,” he says with a smile.

“Uhh, I can’t read…not very well anyway,” I admit.

He takes the book, marking the page with his finger and puts his other hand out in front of me.

“C’mon Ollie,” he urges.

“Why?” I ask cautiously, slowly backing away.

“Because you’ll freeze to death like that.”

I look down at myself. I hadn’t realized the scarf was no longer over me.

“Oh,” is all I can say as I shiver.

I give a squeak of fright as Hosea wraps his massive hand around me. I struggle to escape his grasp as he lifts me off the table.

“If you keep squirming, I might drop you,” he warns softly.

“I’m trying not to hurt you.”

That’s kind of true. I notice that his grip isn’t actually tight. More of a secure hold trying to avoid my splinted arm.

My stomach drops as Hosea stands up and I grab onto his finger with one arm, holding on for dear life. He takes a step to sit down in a chair in front of the fireplace. He leans back slightly as he settles into his seat. His fingers loosen and I drop the short distance, landing on the fur lapel of his jacket. I barely have time to get my bearings before his hand pins me down. I try to wriggle out from under his hand.

“Shh, just relax. You need rest with your injured arm, and you are going to freeze without intervention,” his voice rumbles through his chest.

My next sentence is interrupted as the cabin door opens. It’s not Dutch or Arthur, but an older man with glasses. Hosea quickly places his other hand over me, concealing me from the new arrival, though I can just see through the slight gap in his fingers.

“Ah, good evening Herr Matthews,” the new man greets in a thick accent.

I’m guessing German maybe. As he turns to close the door, Hosea closes both hands around me. I register upward movement then I’m dropped onto his shoulder. Specifically, between his shirt and coat collar. He wraps his scarf carefully around, then stands up. I grab his coat in fright.

“Evenin’ Herr Strauss,” Hosea’s booming voice echoes in my ears.

“I’m vondering vhen we are getting off zis mountain. I’m sure zhe others are curious about zhis also,” Herr Strauss says as he attempts to rub some warmth back into his arms and hands.

“We have to be extremely careful, Strauss. Pinkertons are still crawling all over the state.”

Pinkertons?! What did this gang of outlaws do? And what have I landed myself into?

“I know. I’m just anxious, is all,” Strauss replies.

I don’t register the pounding of hoofbeats until Strauss is already at the window.

“Zhere back. Wit John. Mein Gott, he looks awful,” he exclaims.

Hosea took the opportunity while Strauss was distracted to take me off his shoulder and put me into the small drawer of the end table, then gesturing ‘shush’, before following German outside.

That was…weird.

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