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harrysweasleys · 4 years ago

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a dream is a wish // f.w

Summary: for @pit-and-the-pen’s writing event!

Reader can’t stand Fred Weasley, but what happens when a dream changes that?

Prompts: “do you have to be that painfully beautiful?” x “well, if you saw yourself how I saw you, could you blame me?”

Warnings: injury, maybe like one swear word?

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: this came out much later than i intended but ah! here it is! enjoy :)

——

It was safe to say you were not a fan of Fred Weasley.

Never have been, and most likely never will be. He was always loud, boisterous, arrogant, annoying, and most of all, found pleasure in disrupting the educational system any chance he could get. I mean, who does that, right?

Whether it be causing distractions with his equally-arrogant twin during class, or setting fireworks and other shenanigans loose in the hallways, you wanted to try and avoid both of them as much as possible.

But, it was Fred that you disliked more. He was the louder one, the one who knew exactly how to get under your skin and piss you off in all the wrong ways. The one that despite how much your friends thought him hilarious and charming, you’d never be able to get on the same page with. What was charming about someone who chose to disrespect all rules and live a carefree lifestyle?

That was not for you.

You were glad, on this day, that you could escape the confining castle walls and the hustle and bustle of the school on the weekend and make off to Hogsmeade with your pals, the cool autumn air a refreshing awakening as soon as you stepped outside. The leaves were changing colours and collecting in piles on the ground, the skies were gloomy and cloudy, and somehow, the smell of cinnamon was always in the air in the small Wizarding village.

“Can we head into Honeydukes’s afterwards?” your fellow Gryffindor, Megan, turned to ask as you guys entered the Three Broomsticks, the tip of her nose looking pink and her cheeks pale. It was rather cold for November.

“Sure thing,” you nodded, smiling in comfort at the familiar cozy atmosphere of the dingy pub. Students all around were crowded around in bundles, drinking hot butterbeer. You couldn’t wait to have one yourself.

Megan led you to the table where Ginny was sitting, a large cup of hot cocoa in her hands as she waved you guys over.

“Been waiting forever,” she grinned, “You guys go order, I’ll save your seats.”

You turned around and headed back towards the bar with Megan, the two of you catching the bartender’s attention and ordering yourselves each a nice hot butterbeer. You hadn’t felt so cold outside, but now that you were in the warmth, you could feel your fingers begin to burn as they thawed.

After a few moments wait, you grabbed the butterbeer mug between your already warm fingers and began to walk back to the table. You had to scooch around other tables and chairs, but eventually, you spotted Ginny’s red hair once more in the same table by the window.

Unfortunately, though, you spotted two other heads of red hair as well. Fred and George were crouched over their younger sister, a large Zonko’s bag on the table as they showed off their latest purchases.

“Bloody fantastic,” you groaned, causing Megan to chuckle as the two of you arrived at the table.

“Well, afternoon, ladies,” Fred grinned, taking his eyes off of his products to look at the two of you, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Is it, though?” you rolled your eyes, sitting down and placing your mug on the table, “This is a school outing. There are students everywhere.”

Fred let out a laugh, “Well, not everyone decides to participate in such festivities.”

You let out a loud sigh and frowned, looking down to your drink to distract yourself from rebutting his comment. George had run off to go see Lee and another group of Gryffindors, so at least that was one down. If only Fred could leave as well.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, you felt Megan kick your leg under the table and so you shot her a look, asking her what was up.

“Well, guess I’ve best be off,” Fred said before she could reply to your glare, “Have a lovely afternoon.” As he passed by you, he placed his hand atop your head, “Especially you.”

“Don’t touch me,” you pulled your head out from under his hand, furrowing your eyebrows and mustering up your best scowl.

“Ah, intimidating,” Fred smirked, “I’m shaking in my bloody shoes.” Ginny and Megan stifled their laughter but you could hear them anyways. They were hardly being subtle.

“Get out of here, Weasley,” you turned way from him and faced your butterbeer once again, trying not to let him get to you. You had to fight a blush at Ginny and Megan’s laughter as Fred walked away, his chuckle fading into the loudness of the pub.

“Anyways,” Ginny grinned, pulling her hand away from her mouth, “Let’s change the subject before Y/N explodes.”

You snapped your head up to face her, your cheeks becoming rather warm, “I’m not going to explode, thank you very much. I just can’t stand your prat brothers.”

Ginny tossed her hair behind her shoulder and leaned forwards on the table, resting against her elbows, “You do a terrific job of hiding it.”

“Sorry, Gin,” you gave her a sheepish grin, “Tell them to stop being assholes. But I can try and be civil.”

Ginny wiggled her eyebrows and her and Megan exchanged a look. You ignored it, knowing they were probably thinking of something that you didn’t even want to know about, and took a long sip of butterbeer, letting the soothing, warm liquid calm you.

After sharing a nice long chat, Ginny having downed two whole hot cocoas, the three of you walked over to Honeyduke’s. The sun was gone and a thick layer of clouds covered the sky.

You really hoped it wouldn’t rain. You were chilly enough as it is. The last thing you wanted was to also be soaking wet.

Ginny held the door open as you and Megan climbed in afterwards, the warmth from the store immediately making a difference.

Megan took off to check out the latest line of sweets, her head disappearing within the busy store. Students were everywhere — eating, chatting, filling up bags of candies for long classes.

You noticed you had also lost Ginny. Where she had gone off to, you had no idea. But you took advantage of the fact that she was gone and made your way to the nearest shelf. It was incredibly tall and stacked with loads of different types of —

“Chocolate, a good choice,” a smooth voice said from behind you, causing you to jump and spin around, ready to knock over whoever had stepped close enough to speak in your ear.

You frowned as you faced Fred’s grinning figure.

“Oh, it’s you,” you rolled your eyes and turned back around, “I’d like to shop in peace. Bye bye.”

To your dismay, Fred pretended not to hear you and came to stand by your side, “As a resident expert on anything sweet — like myself — I recommend these guys.”

Fred reached up and grabbed a chocolate frog, placing it in your hand. You stared down at it, eyebrow cocked. You heard these were quite nice, honestly, but that didn’t mean you wanted to accept one from Fred.

“Why should I trust your opinion?” you glanced back up at him, a blank look on your face.

“Because,” he replied, grabbing another one for himself, “I know my stuff.”

You glared at him before walking away, the chocolate frog still in your hand. You couldn’t reach up to put it back and there was no way in hell you’d ask Fred for help. So, to keep your pride, you’d just buy it.

“I’m just taking this,” you finally arrived at the cash, placing the single chocolate frog down in front of the young cashier.

“And this one,” Fred was somehow still behind you, placing his own chocolate frog down next to yours, “On me.”

“Oh, charming,” you sassed, turning to face him with your arms crossed, “I can afford it myself, you know. I don’t need your help.”

Fred grinned at you as he removed his wallet from his back pocket, paying for the two chocolate frogs, “I know you don’t. I’m just being sweet.”

You ignored the wink he gave you, grabbing your chocolate frog off of the counter and placing it in your coat pocket. The cold outdoor air would prevent it from melting, so you figured it was safe there.

“Well, stop being sweet,” you smiled sarcastically, re-adjusting your scarf and beginning to walk away from him. You heard him call your name, but luckily for you, Ginny and Megan found you before he could. They both had a bag each — how they had managed to each buy their own stash of candies in the short amount of time you had found one chocolate frog, you’ll never know.

“Ready to go, ladies?” Megan asked, grabbing a lolly out of her bag and unwrapping it, sticking it into her mouth as she led the three of you back into the fresh November air.

You sighed as you stepped outside, shoving your hand into your pocket, feeling the chocolate frog box sitting there. You absentmindedly fiddled with it, not even noticing you were doing so.

This would make a lovely midnight snack.

——

You know that saying; when you have a romantic dream about someone, you can’t see them the same way anymore?

Well, you usually didn’t believe that. You thought people just got too attached to their subconscious and wanted to feel things that weren’t there.

You especially didn’t want to believe it when you woke up that morning, last night’s dream crystal clear in your head. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were with anyone else — the idea of cuddling and kissing any other person on the planet would have been fine.

But no, no. Your dream decided to pair you up with the one person you didn’t want.

Fred goddamn Weasley.

It was probably only because you ate the chocolate frog he bought you. So, due to that, he was in your mind. That’s the only reasonable explanation. There was no other reason for such a dream to occur.

You hopped of bed, shaking your head every few minutes to rid yourself of the disgusting images from your head, and rushed down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, Ginny and Megan still sound asleep in their four poster beds. They’d never find out you just dreamt of yourself in a relationship with Ginny’s older brother. They’d never let you live it down.

The Great Hall was silent as you walked in, the candles lit and the tables rather empty. You spotted a few familiar faces at the Gryffindor table, but chose you’d prefer to sit alone and stew in solemn silence.

Why had your mind decided to pair you up with Fred? Why?

As if the Devil himself was playing a game, Fred, George and Lee made their appearance in the Hall doorway with loud laughter. You groaned, letting your hair fall into your face as you poured yourself a cup of tea, wishing more than anything that they wouldn’t spot you.

“Mornin’, Y/N!” Lee sat across from you, a big smile on his face. You couldn’t muster the same expression, your lips curved downwards into a scowl. Of course they’d come sit with you. Everyone else at the Gryffindor table was either a first or second year. Clearly, the universe was testing you.

“Hi, Lee,” you gave a forced smile, taking a sip of your tea and keeping your eyes away from the twins that sat on either side of him.

Although you were fine with George sitting across from you, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Fred. Whether it was due to your dislike of him or the fact that you just had a dream where you had been in love with him, you couldn’t tell. But your heartbeat was starting to quicken — and you were not liking it.

“Awfully silent this morning,” Fred smirked, resting his elbows on the table.

You stood up abruptly, gulping down the last bit of tea in your mug, “Maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh — you wound me,” he placed a hand over his heart, “Are you bothered by me?”

“Well, if you saw yourself how I saw you, could you blame me?” you scoffed, placing your hands on your hips, “My morning was going fine until I saw you. Time for me to leave.”

George and Lee snickered as Fred’s smile faltered, his eyes glued to you as you scurried quickly out of the Great Hall, wishing more than anything that Fred didn’t get you as huffed and flustered as he did.

Damn him.

You couldn’t stand him. Him and his bright hair. Him and his freckled cheeks. Him and his warm eyes.

Yep, the dream didn’t change anything.

——

You were rather glad the sunshine continued to peak throughout the day — especially as you walked down to the Quidditch pitch. Playing in rain and snow was fun, sure, but there was nothing like playing on a clear, fresh day.

“Glad the weather is nice,” Ginny said from next to you as if she were reading your mind, “Should make finding the Snitch easier.”

You grinned, “Always glad when the sun’s out.”

She chuckled and opened the tent flap, letting you head in before her. The rest of the team hadn’t arrived yet which you were thankful for. It would give you time to get changed and mentally prepare before the rowdiness began. You loved most of the team to bits, but they could be quite loud. Especially the one person on the team that you didn’t like.

You seized your Quidditch robes and promptly changed into them, stepping out of the private room and immediately slouching your shoulders.

Your peace and quiet hadn’t lasted long. Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, Harry and Ginny were huddled together, laughing loudly as they each began to prepare for the game.

“Oh, Y/N, we’re going over today’s plan!” Angelina waved you over, motioning for you to join. You did as the captain said, standing close to Ginny and as far from the grinning twins as you could.

“Now, this one here,” Angelina pointed to a badly drawn diagram on a crumpled piece of parchment, “Is called Bollocks, and it’s when—,”

“Sorry,” George snickered, lifting his hand to cut her off, “You named a play Bollocks?”

“Problem?” Angelina placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow, challenging him, “It was one of Wood’s old plays and might I add, it always worked brilliantly.”

You rolled your eyes at the immature reaction from the twins, wishing they’d pipe down so you could actually focus.

Fred was next to speak, “Course it was Ollie. Lad always had such wonderful names for everything.”

“Excuse me,” you found yourself speaking up, not even sure where your voice came from, “Can you stop being immature for three seconds so we can listen to Angie and maybe win this game?”

Narrowing his eyes at you, Fred scoffed, “And what exactly is it that’s set you off today? Always something, isn’t there?”

You blinked rapidly, “What?”

“You’ve always got something to say,” he continued, “Bit annoying, really.”

The tent was silent, the team stepping back slightly as if trying to avoid being caught in the crossfire. You felt your blood being to boil. Fred had never actually snapped back at you before — and for some reason, you genuinely disliked it.

“I—” your voice trailed off as you realized you didn’t even know what to say. You almost felt bad. Which was rare. You never really felt bad for telling Fred off. He usually always deserved it. Why did you feel that way this time?

“Anyways,” Angelina took her place once more, trying to cut a knife through the palpable awkwardness that was now floating around the tent.

You were still looking at Fred, who was now facing away, his jaw clenched and his cheeks flushed. Never had you seen him this put off.

Angelina continued to explain the game plan, but you were too consumed with unwanted guilt to pay attention to every word. Why had this argument left you with such a bitter feeling? You weren’t normally left feeling sour after any sort of encounter with Fred. Was it because he actually looked upset? Was it because you felt bad? Did it have anything to do with your stupid dream?

No, no. Can’t be the dream. It was just a dream.

She finished up her speech and you took your place behind Alicia, grabbing your broom and ready to make an entrance onto the pitch. But, after your standoff with Fred, all excitement that you previously had was gone. If anything, you would much rather run back to the castle and hide away in your dorm room right about now.

“You alright?” Ginny leaned over, “He’s not actually mad, y’know? Just loses his temper sometimes.”

“I feel bad,” you whispered back, your grip on the broom tightening, “I’ll apologize later.”

Ginny smiled at you, not able to say much more as the lot of you walked out onto the field and came face to face with your opponent. The loud cheers from the crowd helped lift your spirits slightly, but you couldn’t help sneaking another peak at Fred. He was laughing at something Angelina had said, all traces of his previous anger gone.

Maybe Ginny was right, perhaps he wasn’t angry. You felt you needed to apologize anyways, but hopefully it would be forgotten and things could just go back to normal. Whatever normal was.

The whistle blew to signal the beginning of the match, causing you to kick off the ground and take off, ready to bring to life your game plan with your fellow Chasers. You pushed past your bad feelings and focused solely on the match ahead, causing Gryffindor to take an early lead.

Ten minutes in and you were up thirty to zero, two of those goals scored by yours truly. You celebrated both with the rest of the team team, noticing, however, how Fred didn’t come to join both times. He seemed rather thrilled when Alicia scored, though.

Why was this bothering you?

You shook your head and continued the game. Another ten minutes in and Angelina put another one in, leaving you guys up forty to nothing.

You were ready to execute another play — Bollocks, specifically — when you heard your name being shouted.

“Look out!” Ginny’s eyes were wide as she called out to you.

You gave her a puzzled look, ready to turn around and see what she was pointing at, but you didn’t have the chance to do so.

The Bludger knocked into your arm, causing you to completely lose balance and topple off of your broom. Unbearable pain spread throughout your body, the point of contact on your arm throbbing violently as the world around you spun out of focus. The entire audience gasped as you began to plummet towards the ground.

Sixty feet? Seventy, maybe?

You could hear people shouting your name but you couldn’t open your eyes, bracing yourself for impact. Your head felt heavy, your heart skipping beats.

You tried to squint your eyes open, but all you could see was the blue of the sky and something orange and red flash by.

That was the last thing you saw before your vision went dark.

——

The Hospital Wing at night was usually deserted. The moonlight would shine through the windows onto the empty beds and Madam Pomfrey would retire to her room early. But not tonight.

Tonight, they were all gathered around you.

“Are you sure you feel okay?” Megan asked, seated by your side and holding your hand tightly in hers, “It was really scary to see you fall.”

“I’m fine, Meg,” you replied with a low chuckle, your voice coarse from having been asleep — or passed out — for a few hours, “I don’t even remember hitting the ground.”

“That’s because you didn’t hit the ground,” Ginny sat down on the other side of the bed, arms crossed and a light smirk on her lips, “You got saved before you made impact.” She looked tired, but you were incredibly glad she was here.

“She’s right,” Megan piped up, now wearing the same smirk, “Madam Pomfrey say you passed out due to the Bludger impact and the speed in which you feel. Hitting the ground had nothing to do with it because you didn’t hit the ground.”

You looked between the two, your eyebrows furrowed and your mind not fully wrapping around their words. You had to have hit the ground, right?

“How did I not hit the ground?” you coughed slightly as you spoke, reaching over to the small table next to you and grabbing your glass of water, taking a small sip to hopefully soothe your throat.

“Fred caught you,” Ginny replied tentatively.

You spat the water back out, spraying the bedspread and probably Megan and Ginny’s faces as well, “I’m sorry — what?”

Megan answered, wiping at her eye, “Yep. He caught you right as you passed out.”

You stated at them, your eyes feeling as if they were as wide as saucers. There was no way Fred saved you, was there? Was he the flash of red and orange you had seen?

“Why’d he do that?” you asked with interest, placing your glass of water back down to avoid spraying anyone else with your shocked spitting.

Ginny was about to speak, but the doors to the Hospital Wing opened and she muttered a sly, “Ask him yourself.”

You looked over, and sure enough, Fred was walking in. Accompanied by the rest of the team, yes, but your eyes went to him and only him. Clearly, he could sense your stare, as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck once arriving at the foot of your bed.

“You caught me?” you asked, ignoring whatever it was that Angelina had just asked you.

Fred’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he shrugged, “Yeah. But it’s not a big deal.”

Angelina pursed her lips from next to you, rolling back and forth on the balls of her feet. The group all shared a look and decided to leave the two of you be, slowly slipping out of the Hospital Wing.

You noticed, yes, but were too busy saying, “Thank you.”

Fred cupped his ear and leaned forwards, a hint of a smirk on his lips as all traces of awkwardness seemed to dissipate, “Sorry, did you just thank me? Blimey, must be the end of times.”

You shot him a look, rolling your eyes and dropping your head back down onto the pillow, “Just accept my thanking and be on your way.”

“I actually brought you something,” he lifted his finger, reaching into the tiny pocket on his chest, pulling out a boxed chocolate frog, “Here. For you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms, “I don’t trust it. It’s coming from you.”

“I promise, I didn’t do anything to it. And the other one I gave you was fine, wasn’t it?” he smiled, walking over to the side of the bed to sit on the chair, still holding out the small box. His smile was genuine — but he still had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Fine,” you snatched it from him, “I’ll trust you just this once. Because I’m hungry..”

“I got it from Honeydukes yesterday,” he said, leaning back in the chair and lifting his legs, resting his feet atop your bed. You glared at them as you popped the chocolate into your mouth, letting the sweetness soothe you.

“See?” he smirked, raising an eyebrow, “You can trust me.”

You looked over at him, taking in his relaxed, causal state and the bright look in his eyes. You had always seen him looking as if he were hiding a dragon in his trousers — you couldn’t remember a time you’d seen him so casual.

His red striped shirt brought out the warm colours on his face. He looked effortlessly charming. It was annoying, really.

“I guess I can,” you smiled back, no hint of hostility in your voice, “Thank you.”

He took his feet off of your bed and pretended to bow, “You are infinitely welcome.” You chuckled, shaking your head and turning away from him, continuing to suck on the candy. It was changing flavours the longer it was in your mouth; it was beginning to taste like lemon.

“I can bring you some more tomorrow,” he grinned, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets, “I need to meet up with George. Do you have a candy preference?”

You blinked up at him, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”

He shrugged before nodding, “Might as well. Gotta come see my favorite grouch.”

“Oh, shove off,” you scoffed, dropping your head. For some reason, him saying he was coming to see you tomorrow sent your heart into a jolt. You tried your best to brush it off, but as you glanced back up at him, the same thing happened. You suddenly felt awfully giddy.

“What kind of candy do you like?” he asked again, giving you a more serious look, “It’s the least I could do for not knocking the Bludger fast enough.”

You placed a finger to your chin and tapped, pondering over his question, “I like chocolate. But you already know that.”

He nodded curtly, taking a dramatic bow, “Chocolate it is.” You couldn’t hold back a laugh, covering your mouth and tossing your head back. Fred chuckled too, beginning to make his way towards the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he gave you a little wave, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, you git,” you replied with a grin, laughing slightly as you watched his lips curve upwards before he stepped outside of the Hospital Wing, closing the door quietly behind him.

Your smile fell as he left, bringing up the blanket to wrap around you, suddenly very aware of how alone you were in the room. Apart from Madam Pomfrey — who was reading a rather large book on the other side of the room. The silence was unnerving and you decided to just sleep it off.

You shut your eyes and let yourself fall into a deep, deep sleep.

——

“You’re joking!” you said through a mouthful of chocolate, your eyes wide.

“Nope,” Fred grinned, “Not joking.”

“How could you do that? You traumatized poor Ron for life,” you said, finally swallowing the chocolate in your mouth so you could breathe through your laughter.

Fred shrugged, “He deserved it.”

You shot him a look, “He was six. I hardly believe he deserved it.” Popping another bit of chocolate frog into your mouth, you raised your eyebrows as if challenging him.

He let out a low chuckle before taking a bite of his own chocolate frog. True to his word, Fred had shown up that evening with a bag of Honeyduke’s sweets, splitting them into piles between the two of you. Madam Pomfrey was not exactly overjoyed by his appearance — considering his appearance came with noise and food — but she told him he was allowed in for two hours.

You were being discharged tomorrow, anyways. There was no use moping and sulking about with only one day left here. Classes would resume and things would go back to normal.

“You have chocolate on your nose,” he pointed to his own nose as he spoke. You flushed, quickly raising your hand to try and wipe it off.

“You missed,” he smirked, sitting up and leaning forwards, reaching his hand out to touch your nose. As he made contact, you cheeks became incredibly warm. You tried your best to brush it off, but as you looked up into his warm eyes, you couldn’t help it. He was gazing down at you, fingers trailing from your nose down to your jaw before he retracted his hand.

You let out a small cough, purposefully ruining the moment, “What are you looking at?”

“Sorry,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s just — do you have to be so painfully beautiful?”

Although you were neither eating, nor drinking, you felt yourself choking on air. You averted your eyes away from him, looking at the ground for a good moment as your head wrapped around what he just said.

“Right,” you scoffed, cheeks burning, “I think you’re the one who hit your head.”

He let out an awkward chuckle as he leaned back in his chair, “Deny the compliment all you want. Doesn’t make it any less true, y’know.”

Why was Fred making you feel like this? Obnoxious, loud, arrogant, cocky Fred Weasley. Cute, charming, funny — no.

You couldn’t think of him that way. You had practically sworn to yourself that you’d never end up liking him. You couldn’t just change your morals now. Who does that?

“Thanks,” you muttered, fidgeting with your fingers under the blanket. You didn’t know what to say, you could barely muster the word ‘thanks’ in the first place.

It was odd. Just yesterday, you had snapped at him for being childish. For making a joke. But now, only a day later, you were here. Fighting back a grin and a blush at his compliment as he smirked over, clearly pleased by your reaction as he bit into another sweet.

Considering Fred hadn’t seemed to be your biggest fan either, you wondered why he suddenly felt open enough, confident enough, to compliment you so casually. What had changed? Why were the two of you so relaxed around each other?

Too swarmed with your own confusing thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed the two hours fly by. Fred left not long after, a smile on his face as he left his pile of candies behind for you.

Candies. That’s what was to blame. The sugar. That’s why your heart was violently beating against your ribcage, why your mind was fuzzy, why you had the urge to ask Fred to stay.

The candies were to blame. That’s the only reasonable explanation.

It had to be the candies.

——

The next few days went by in a blur. You were feeling back to normal, which you were awfully thankful for. Madam Pomfrey had fixed you up in a jiffy and sent you on you way after two days in the Wing being monitored closely under her watchful eye. She wasn’t impressed with how many chocolate frogs you had managed to eat, but she was glad you were healed and ready to take on the world again.

Ginny and Megan were glad to have you back — girls night just wasn’t the same without you, they said. And you were glad to see them again too. Although it was only two nights away, you had missed their company.

However, as glad as you were to no longer be confined to your tiny single bed, you felt as if you were missing something. You knew deep down you were missing Fred’s presence —even though you tried to deny it to yourself. He had been nice company while you were being healed and you kind of wished you could get some more alone time with him.

You had seen him around, sure. He was always there during meals and you’d come across him in the common room. Each time he’d send a smile your way and if you were lucky, he’d strike up a quick conversation after asking how you were feeling.

As much as you hated to admit it, you found yourself looking for him when he wasn’t around. You found yourself looking over anytime someone entered the room, hoping it would be him. You’d scan the hallways looking for his bright red hair —

“Looking for me?” a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

Rather ironic, you thought as you looked up into Fred’s eyes, his head peeking over yours as you sat down for dinner.

“You wish,” you scoffed, fighting a blush that would give away the fact that yes, indeed, you were thinking of him. He didn’t need to know that, though. Would only boost his huge ego and no one wanted that.

“I always wish that,” he smirked as he sat down to your right. Oh, how you wished Fred was a lot less charming than he was. Damn him.

You reached across and grabbed some food, piling it onto your plate without another word. You could feel Fred’s eyes staring at you, your whole body felt like it was burning under his eyes.

“Stop staring,” you turned to face him with your eyebrow raised.

“Sorry,” he raised his hands, “Hard not to.”

You wanted to retaliate, but your voice was lost under Lee and Ginny giggling across from you. When had they even come in? Were they here the whole time? And why wasn’t George with Fred?

“Young love,” Lee clasped his hands and sighed, looking over to Ginny, “When will these two realize their feelings, Ginerva?”

Ginny batted her eyelashes in an equally dramatic manner, “Oh, I don’t know, Lee. Maybe they just need a push.”

Both you and Fred were glaring daggers at them. You hoped the stare you were giving Ginny would cause her to drop the subject, but clearly, it only egged her on. She sent you a wink, laughing as un-subtly as possible.

“Oi, no one asked for the two of you to pipe in,” Fred shot a look at Lee, also hoping to silencing his friend, his cheeks tinted with pink.

You looked away from Ginny, picking at your plate, embarrassed by the obvious attempt to get you and Fred to talk. Would you two even be compatible?

Would the two of you be a good couple?

“I think we would,” Fred grinned, nudging you in the side.

You turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed, “We would what?”

“You asked if we would be a good couple,” his grin was taunting, his eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them.

“Did I — Melin, did I ask that aloud?” you asked, horrified and humiliated. There was no fighting the blush on your cheeks now. Oh, how you wished you could climb into a hole and completely disappear.

“You did,” Fred scooted closer to you, “And might I add, it was rather cute. We would make an excellent couple, Y/N. You already love telling me off.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that, completely and utterly shocked that your mouth had the audacity to voice your thoughts without your permission. Why? Why did this have to happen to you?

Fred, noticing that you weren’t going to speak, decided to take initiative, “Well, since that’s all in the open, would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade next weekend? As a date.”

You looked up to him, the blush now gone as your face lost colour, completely caught off guard. Fred was blunt, yes, but you didn’t think he’d actually ask you out. You figured this weird thing going on between you two was just due both of you feeling guilty? Was this even real?

Did you ever think you’d want to go on a date with Fred Weasley? Bloody hell, no. But now, did you want to go on a date with him? Of course you did.

“I’d love to,” you replied quietly, not even sure you had said the words.

Fred’s beaming smile alerted you that he had heard you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought you close to him, but you were too starstruck by the idea of going on a date with him to retaliate.

He was warm, comforting, and you really did enjoy it.

“Go team,” Ginny grinned, fist-bumping an equally pleased looking Lee.

Fred leaned over with a wide smile and whispered in your ear, “Remember when you hated me?”

You scoffed, pulling away as a smile played at your lips, “Shove off, you git.”

—

taglist

@grierpilots

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@msmimimerton

@pit-and-the-pen

@diary-of-an-onliner

@theweirdsideofstuff

@thoseofgreatambition

@theweasleysredhair

@haphazardhufflepuff

@almostweepingbanana

@ickle-ronniekins

@iprobablyshipit91

@wand3ringr0s3

@susceptible-but-siriusexual

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley one shots #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fics #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert

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escapewithbts · 4 years ago

Text

From Fight To Flight - Yoongi

———————————————

Ah, Sunday. Laundry day.

You didn't mind though. Doing laundry was one of the few chores you actually enjoyed. You found it relaxed you.

You picked up all your boyfriend's dirty clothes from the bedroom floor and placed them in the hamper. Then you lugged the hamper down the hallway to the utility room where the washer and dryer were hooked up.

The item that showed up most in you and your boyfriend's mixed laundry was sweatshirts. It always made you chuckle, he seemed to have more hoodies than you did! But it never really surprised you... that was his signature style after all.

Just as you were picking up his last one from the hamper and throwing it with the other darks, a small white box fell from the front pocket. You stared down at it in shock.

Cigarettes.

Your heart stopped and your mouth became dry.

Yoongi smoked? Since when? And why didn't he tell you?

You hesitantly picked up the box and slowly went down the hallway, walking into the living room where Yoongi was sitting on the couch watching a basketball game on the tv.

"What the hell are these?" you spat out shakily, holding up the box and making Yoongi glance at you.

He gave you a look that was completely expressionless.

"They're cigarettes," he replied flatly, turning back to the tv.

You rolled your eyes.

"Obviously, Yoongi. But since when do you smoke?" you asked, the tone of your voice coming out a bit angrier than you intended.

"I don't," Yoongi responded, keeping his eyes fixated on the television, "they're my manager’s."

You cocked your head and furrowed your eyebrows.

"What?"

Yoongi stared back up at you, a look of annoyance becoming evident on his face.

"They're. My. Manager’s." he repeated.

You shook your head and looked down.

"I don't believe you," you mumbled.

He narrowed his eyes at you.

"What?"

"I said I don't believe you, Yoongi!" you yelled suddenly, shocked it came out as harshly as it did.

Yoongi stood up and walked toward you.

"You don't believe me?? What the fuck, (y/n)!? When have I ever lied to you?" he ran a hand through his dark hair, "What, you don't trust me now? Is that it?"

Well that escalated quickly.

"Why would you have your manager’s cigarettes, Yoongi, if you weren't smoking them too?!" you interogated, ignoring his previous question.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"For this exact reason! So his girlfriend doesn't blow up in his face about it! She doesn't like when he smokes, so he asked me to take them so he wouldn't be tempted! That's it!"

A few tears fell from your face but you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand.

"I don't believe you, Yoongi," you croaked out once more, throwing the box at his chest and retaliating into the ajoining kitchen.

He followed you.

"Well whose fault is that, (y/n)?? I'm not lying to you, I. DON'T. SMOKE!" he yelled, obviously very angry and frustrated at the accusation.

"Then don't carry around other people's cigarettes! It clearly sends the wrong message!" you yelled back through falling tears, unable to hold them back any longer.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in frustration.

"Fucking hell, okay, MOM."

You narrowed your eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me! You're acting like my mother! And honestly, you're being really fucking annoying!"

Those words made your heart sink. Yoongi had never called you annoying. Were you being annoying?

"You think I'm annoying?! I'm like this because I care, Yoongi. But fine, if you think I'm so annoying, maybe I'll just leave!" you exclaimed, grabbing your keys off the counter.

Yoongi stopped you by saying,

"No. NO. I'm leaving."

And with that, he swung open the front door, walked out and let it slam behind him.

You rushed back into the living room and threw yourself on the couch, sobbing into the cushion.

You hated fighting with Yoongi, and this one had been one of your worst fights yet.

He had gotten so defensive and that bothered you... it scared you. And he said you were annoying? He has never said that before. Is that what he really thought? That you caring about him was annoying? Or maybe he was right. You had jumped to conclusions and accused him pretty quickly. Were you being overdramatic?

Your crying slowed down eventually and you turned around to stare at the ceiling. You just laid there for a long time... an hour? Two? You really didn't know. Time seemed to be frozen.

Finally, you came to the conclusion that if Yoongi found you annoying or if you had overreacted, maybe it was best to give each other some space and time apart to really cool off. It would probably be good for your relationship anyway.

Heading down the hall with a heavy heart, you grabbed your small suitcase from the closet and carried it to your shared bedroom. You pulled piles of clothes out from your drawers and stuffed them in, not caring how neatly everything was packed. Then you went into the bathroom and retrieved all you tolietries, putting them in the suitcase, too.

Just as you were about to zip it shut, you heard the front door open.

Shit. You had hoped to be gone by the time Yoongi got back.

You heard his footsteps come down the hall and get closer and closer, until finally they stopped in front of the bedroom doorway.

You froze, just the sight of him brought you to tears again.

"(y/n)..." his head was down, not looking at you.

You let out a sniffle and started to zip up the suitcase.

The sound of it made Yoongi look up, his dark brown eyes wide in shock.

"(y/n)? Wh-what the fuck are you doing??" he asked frantically, rushing towards you and putting a hand on the suitcase.

"Yoongi... please," you croaked out.

He put his hand under your chin, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes.

"Jagi, no, don't leave, please. I'll-I'll get rid of the cigarettes right away, and tell my manager I can't hold on to them anymore, okay? Just, please, jagiya, don't go, I don't want to lose you."

Tears were falling down his cheeks now, too, a sight you had never seen before. He wiped them away with shaky hands.

You looked down, away from his gaze.

"You think I’m annoying..." you whimpered.

"Oh, jagi..." Yoongi pulled you to him in a tight embrace as you cried into his chest, "It was just the heat of the moment. I was angry, I didn't know what I was saying. I don't think you're annoying, not at all. You love me, and I love you. Please stay here... don't go."

You were surprised at how emotional he was being and you pulled away to look up at him, knowing you also owed him a big apology.

"I'm sorry, too, Yoongi... for being so accusatory. I should have believed you."

Yoongi wiped a few tears off your face.

"It's okay, (y/n)-ah, it’s all right."

You shook your head and sat down on the edge of the bed. Yoongi sat down next to you and took your hand in his.

You took a deep breath,

"I just... I care about you so much. You being healthy is so important to me. I want you around for a while... And also, when I saw them I just felt like... like I didn’t know you. Like you were keeping something from me. It scared me. I know it’s dumb but I-“

Yoongi shook his head.

“It’s not dumb, (y/n), I get it. I didn’t even think of it that way but I see now,” he pulled you gently into his chest, "I'm sorry, (y/n). If I had known I wouldn't have yelled at you like that. But I do want you to know I will never lie to you. And I'm healthy and here, and I will be for a while. Okay?"

You nodded in response and buried your face farther into Yoongi, clutching onto his black shirt.

The two of you stayed like that for a while as Yoongi calmed you down. You were glad you were able to work it out so easily, and were thankful he was so understanding and supportive. Soon the idea that you wanted to leave felt ridiculous.

"So you're not going to leave?" Yoongi asked you with a hopeful look on his face as you both stood up.

You shook your head and hugged him again.

“Good,” he mumbled, “that really scared the shit out of me.”

You knew that was hard for him to admit so you hugged him tighter.

“I’m so sorry I scared you, Yoongi-ah.”

There was a pause before you finally pulled away from him and sighed.

"Well, I guess I should get back to doing the laundry."

You began walking to the door but were suddenly stopped by Yoongi lifting you off the ground. You yet out a yelp followed by a fit of giggles as you threw you gently on to the bed. He climbed on top of you and gave you a gummy grin.

"Psssh, clothes," he winked, "Who needs 'em?"

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years ago

Text

BeeTober 2020 Day 6

Shards - Foliage

Day 6 of BeeTober brings me back to Xicheng and some simple fluff and misunderstandings.

Jiang Cheng feels like he’s slowly losing his mind. His whole table is groaning under the weight of the letters—the proposals—and Jiang Cheng wants to get up and strangle every single member of his Sect who had a hand in this.

He doesn’t want to marry. He never wanted to marry, and he thought he had made that very clear.

Jiang Cheng puts his head in his hands when he remembers the exact words he uttered all those years ago, and belatedly he realizes that he shouldn’t have put a condition on his refusal.

‘I will not marry until Jin Ling ascends as Sect Leader’ he had said and it’s now biting him in the ass.

But Jiang Cheng counted on Jin Guangyao staying alive long beyond the reasonable age, simply because he seemed to be exactly that kind of petty bitch. Who would have thought that he would get violently murdered by none other than Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, after all.

“Damn it,” Jiang Cheng mutters, as his eyes yet again fall on the imposing mountain of letters.

Jiang Cheng knows about his reputation, knows what the other cultivators think of him, and so the sheer amount of letters is surprising.

Jiang Cheng had hoped that by now his reputation would work as a repellent to every willing person, but it seems like he can’t even rely on that anymore.

“Have you made a decision yet?” a voice carries inside his study and Jiang Cheng’s head snaps up.

“What do you think?” he yells back, and going by the telling silence his disciple is clever enough to flee at his sharp words.

Jiang Cheng cannot reasonably refuse each and every single proposal, he knows that. There’s not even a way to do it without angering any Sects, because if he chooses one, it will be an insult to the others.

But not choosing at all is also not an option, because then the proposals will just keep coming, and soon enough they will be hand-delivered in person.

Jiang Cheng would rather drown himself than have that happen.

Jiang Cheng puts his head in his hands again, trying to calm himself down with deep breaths, but it’s not working too well.

He only ever wanted to marry for love; wanted to avoid a marriage like his parents shared, but he knows that’s not in it for him anymore.

His heart—his stupid, stupid heart—is set on Lan Xichen after all, has been since the lectures at the Cloud Recesses, but Jiang Cheng has known for just as long that it’s futile.

Lan Xichen has never looked at him in that kind of way; instead he made it a point to stay away from Jiang Cheng for most of the years, not that Jiang Cheng can begrudge him that.

Their personalities do tend to clash and while Jiang Cheng always thought it exciting and invigorating the scarce times it happened, it’s not hard to imagine that Lan Xichen rather dislikes it.

Jiang Cheng mentally scolds himself—not for the first time that day—and forces himself to at least sift through the proposals.

He can form piles: I’d rather not and abso-fucking-lutely not.

The thought amuses Jiang Cheng so much, that he reaches for the next proposal, but as soon as his eyes fall on the seal—the personal sign of Sect Leader Yao—he loses it.

This is the third proposal from his Sect Jiang Cheng held in his hands in the last twenty minutes and it’s enough to drive everyone insane.

So instead of compiling piles like he just decided on, he sweeps his arms over the table, sending all the proposals flying through the room, until they are scattered around him like shards.

Jiang Cheng thinks he would prefer shards over this never-ending torture, and he has half a mind just burning his whole study to the ground, when his eyes fall on a blue proposal, sporting the somewhat familiar seal of the Cloud Recesses.

Jiang Cheng frowns but he can’t help but be intrigued by it. He wonders just whose hand in marriage Lan Qiren is offering to him, and before he even finishes the thought, Jiang Cheng has reached for the proposal.

He thumbs the seal a few times, before he finds the courage to break it, because he knows that no matter whose name he wishes to read in it, it won’t happen. Lan Xichen doesn’t feel that way about him after all.

Jiang Cheng scans the proposal and when his eyes fall on the name Lan Qiren proposes, Jiang Cheng is glad that he’s already sitting down.

This must be a mistake.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is pacing the pier, impatiently waiting for Lan Xichen to arrive, the outrageous proposal still tightly clutched in his hands.

Jiang Cheng has come to terms with the fact that Lan Xichen will never be the one for him a long time ago and so the spark of hurt that Lan Qiren would dangle something that he can’t have in front of him is tiny enough that it’s almost entirely buried under Jiang Cheng’s rage.

He feels outraged on Lan Xichen’s behalf, that Lan Qiren would offer him up like some live-stock and he’s going to inform Lan Xichen about his uncle’s improper proposal at once.

Jiang Cheng is on his seventeenth time pacing the pier when the boat with Lan Xichen finally comes into view.

Jiang Cheng lets out a relieved sigh because Lan Xichen seems to be alone, like Jiang Cheng requested in his letter to the other Sect Leader. He doesn’t want word to get out that Lan Qiren is trying to marry Lan Xichen off to Jiang Cheng.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Xichen greets him as soon as he steps onto the pier but Jiang Cheng is too furious to bother with niceties.

“Your uncle has gone too far,” he says, proposal still tightly clenched in his hands and Lan Xichen looks at him in confusion.

“What could he possibly have done to make you think so?” Lan Xichen wants to know and Jiang Cheng shoves the proposal at him.

“He’s trying to marrying you off like you’re some—some cattle to be rid of,” Jiang Cheng seethes, and Lan Xichen carefully plucks the letter out of Jiang Cheng’s hands.

Lan Xichen reads it over carefully and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes when Lan Xichen’s face falls.

He seems sad more than anything and Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand that. He should be seething with rage, like Jiang Cheng is.

“Ah, I see,” Lan Xichen says and then takes a step back to bow deeply to Jiang Cheng. “I apologize,” he goes on and now the anger makes way for confusion.

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” Jiang Cheng demands to know and Lan Xichen smiles sadly at him.

“I thought that since my previous proposals have all gone unanswered, I would try the official channels now. But I realize my mistake and I apologize to you for causing you distress.”

Jiang Cheng blinks, because those words in that configuration simply don’t make any sense at all and he slightly shakes his head when his confusion only grows with every second that Lan Xichen doesn’t laugh and tell him it’s all just a joke.

“Your what?” Jiang Cheng asks and his voice is fainter than he would like it to be, but his heart is hammering away in his chest, and butterflies are filling his stomach to an almost dangerous level.

“My previous proposals,” Lan Xichen repeats, and it makes as much sense as the first time he said it. “Of marriage and then later of a courtship.”

“I have no clue what you are talking about,” Jiang Cheng admits and now it’s Lan Xichen’s turn to blink in surprise at him.

“Oh,” he whispers and then Jiang Cheng has to watch as his ears turn red.

Jiang Cheng could die, he loves this man so much.

“Care to explain?” he snaps at Lan Xichen, much rougher than he intended in his need to overcompensate for his truly mushy thoughts and Lan Xichen is trying to kill him, surely, because the blush seeps into his cheeks.

“I have sent several marriage proposals to you, over the years. When they went unanswered but not refused, I thought I should start smaller with the offer of a proper courtship. You never replied to those either, and I am able to take a hint. It might take me longer than other people but I get there eventually,” Lan Xichen explains and there is so much self-deprecation in his voice that Jiang Cheng has to bite back his anger at every single person who ever made Lan Xichen believe that.

“So I kept my distance from you, since I didn’t wish to burden you further with my clearly unwanted feelings. But now your Elders announced that you’ll be looking for a spouse now, and I thought I would have more success if my uncle approved of this union.”

Jiang Cheng feels faint with everything that Lan Xichen has just said and when his silence drags on for so long that Lan Xichen attempts a bow again, Jiang Cheng’s hands reach out to grasp his forearm.

“I have never seen those proposals,” Jiang Cheng promises him, desperate to have Lan Xichen believe him. “I told my Elders that I wouldn’t marry before Jin Ling ascends as Sect Leader and that if I even so much as catch a glimpse of any proposals I would drown them all in the lakes.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes flit to the side, taking in the water, and when he looks back at Jiang Cheng, there’s a small smile playing around his mouth.

“I think the foliage is too thick for anyone to drown here,” he says, a playful note in his voice and Jiang Cheng dares to let out a relieved breath.

“I can throw them really far,” he gives back and it’s only when Lan Xichen laughs at that, that Jiang Cheng releases him.

“I truly didn’t know about that,” Jiang Cheng reiterates again and he thinks he doesn’t imagine the hopeful look on Lan Xichen’s face.

“Your reaction kind of gives me hope that my feelings are in fact not unreciprocated,” Lan Xichen says as he takes a tentative step forwards.

Jiang Cheng wants to do nothing more but to tell him that they are so reciprocated, but there is one thing he has to clear up first.

“I’m not going to leave my Sect,” he says, and he forces himself to sound firm. “If this is going to work, you’d have to come here.”

Jiang Cheng knows that it’s unlikely that Lan Xichen will agree to that, but Jiang Cheng did not rebuild his Sect from nothing only to leave it in the end. No matter if it’s for love or not.

“I know that,” Lan Xichen reassures him and takes Jiang Cheng’s hand in his. “Do you really think my uncle would have allowed this if he wouldn’t approve of it? Lan Jingyi will be Sect Leader; he’s too young now, but the Elder’s will guide him and I will be his advisor. He knows this and everything has already been arranged in case you should agree.”

There’s a heavy pause, during which Lan Xichen doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Do you agree?” he then dares to ask and there is so much naked hope in his voice that Jiang Cheng aches with it.

“Of course I do,” he rushes to reassure Lan Xichen. “Jin Ling was never the real reason I didn’t marry,” he confesses to Lan Xichen and threads their hands together. “I didn’t want to marry because the only one I could see myself marrying was you. And I thought that was highly unlikely to happen, so—,” he trails off with a shrug and Lan Xichen laughs.

“Not as unlikely as I thought it to be that you would answer one of my proposals one of these days.”

“Well, I am answering it now,” Jiang Cheng decides and tugs on Lan Xichen’s hand. “In fact, I’m going to write that letter to Lan Qiren right now,” he tells Lan Xichen, who doesn’t move a single inch.

“What?” Jiang Cheng asks, a tiny voice in his head telling him that of course this was too good to be true, but when Lan Xichen gives him a mischievous look that voice dies right out.

“I think before you write to my uncle we should seal this agreement,” Lan Xichen tells him and tugs Jiang Cheng closer to himself.

Jiang Cheng is embarrassed to admit that he almost stumbles into Lan Xichen’s chest, but when Lan Xichen puts a hand to his hip to stabilize him—and to keep him close—Jiang Cheng can’t find it in him to mind.

“And what kind of seal do you have in mind?” Jiang Cheng asks, now that he finally caught up to Lan Xichen’s words, and he itches to kiss the smirk right off Lan Xichen’s lips.

“I think you know,” Lan Xichen whispers, leaning almost close enough for their lips to brush and Jiang Cheng stops fighting his own wishes and simply leans in to kiss Lan Xichen.

He doubts there has ever been a sweeter acceptance of a marriage proposal.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #beetober 2020 #untamed fall fest #the untamed #mdzs #xicheng #fluff #marriage proposal #love confession #getting together #misunderstandings

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frightfurtabby · 3 years ago

Text

Himikiyo Week 2021 Day 2! Bookstore Ambience

// Likewise with yesterdays entry, amino crossposting to be added later. i feel this one’s pretty damn cute

later edit- all links will be collected later in an individual post that will act as a guide/directory.

Word count: 1837

Link

AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/34138636

Amino- https://aminoapps.com/c/danganronpa/page/blog/himikiyo-week-day-2-bookstore-ambience/d3DX_eE8Sbum1JjvngPBwrwNV6mNR1eD7WR

A first date, depending on who you asked, was either more nerve wracking or less so than you expect. Kiyo wasn’t sure which they’d agree with but nonetheless they were fretting. Pacing back and forth in their office at the university. A cute teacher from another department had ended up inviting them out on a date, like a date date. They’d been on the job for a few years now but hardly socialized much outside the other anthropology staff who were understanding of at least some of their eccentricities.

Then just before the start of the previous semester the college hired a new batch of professors including one taking a spot over in the English department in a room in just the opposite hall. So they would see her often in the mornings downstairs in line at Coffee place, usually she was to the back of the line and they’d cross paths when Kiyo was going up with their usual order. The first sighting was like this, and entirely by chance as the anthropologist had to turn to answer a colleague briefly and eye contact was made with the cute redhead in line just over the other’s shoulder, Himiko Yumeno.

They soon hit it off, spending time talking to each other in between class periods in one room, the other, or in the previously mentioned cafe. About work, future plans, what they did in their spare time. Kiyo was always busy doing work, research generally and most of their interests revolved around it and there were days in a row just immersing themself in study. It was like that for as long as they could remember, though what in particular they were fascinated by changed over time.

Legends of monsters, legends of heroes, artifacts left behind, Asia, North America, Africa, they’d deep dive into something and come out the other end being aware of enough to teach their students in extreme detail. Little did they know at the time but in a moment of serendipity just before they met Himiko they felt a pull toward researching the history of magic. And then it turned out that she was interested in that as well.

There were very few days they didn’t find a chance to talk. They had a shared routine every day, and now was a step up.

Kiyo adjusted their collar and tie before straightening out the skirt a bit more and wondered if it was all a little too formal and they were overthinking this. They did tend to do that kind of thing after all. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much of an issue, Himiko was definitely understanding of that kind of thing, they knew that much already. There were also the times they’d complained of that trait and she called it “adorable.”

It was to a bookstore with a cafe in it, so they didn’t need to be terribly formal. Kiyo remembered that it was taking place at around 8 tonight and looked over at the clock and realized that it was much sooner than they thought. She would be showing up any moment. Time went somewhere while they were lost in thought so they quickly put on their shoes, grabbed an umbrella just in case and headed out to the bus stop that was only a few blocks away.

The couple met while Himiko was sitting on the bench still, tapping away at her phone to text Kiyo to make sure everything was alright.

She looked up after hearing footsteps and sighed in relief. “You never seemed much like the type to show up late.”

“My apologies.”

“You also never seemed like the type to straight up ditch either, so…” she blushed and looked over down sheepishly. “I was getting a little worried something happened and you couldn’t pick me up as soon.”

“I got a bit distracted. I-” their explanation started as they took a break with her to sit and rest, arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“Was trying to make yourself extra cute for me?” the redhead teased, putting an arm around them right back and leaning in cutely..

“I… yes, I won’t deny that.” It was a cloudy evening and the autumn breeze blew downed leaves past where they had sat and began to cuddle on the bench. “You know how it is sometimes.”

“Yeah, I remember the time you genuinely didn’t grasp that the poetry I had been showing you for your input was, in fact, about you.”

Kiyo chuckled. “Oh god yeah, that took me a few to even have an inkling of it going on. I just might be the most useless lesbian ever.”

“Mmm, you’re useful for warmth sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Hehe, y-you know what I mean. Like right now, it’s a bit chilly but you being here makes it not so bad.” The first date was finally here, after they had planned it to be a day they were both free. So the woman was going to savor every moment of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The couple approached the doors of the date location holding hands, under the umbrella. Skin made cold by the walk over in spite of hands sharing warmth. Small flecks of rain along the top of the umbrella dripped down. Inside, Kiyo instantly felt the warmth of the building. It wasn’t a long trek at all, if it was they would have done this by car. Everything around here was luckily close to the campus, including home.

The umbrella was put back in its holder, so as not to drip all over the place. It would be rude to do so.

Kiyo turns and gives Himiko a peck on the cheeks. “Food and coffee first, darling?”

The shorter woman nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

It was just to the back left corner from the entrance. Rows and rows of enticing books had to be passed by before you could reach it, but who would come and not buy anything? Romance, sci-fi and fantasy, Manga and light novels too were all present.

After ordering, they got one booth to share, and sat down at the same side. Kiyo’s umbrella, bag, and jacket sat on the ground on the very inside corner. Everything they had ordered would be coming up, and luckily there wasn’t that much of a line on evening’s like this. The barista was even a student from university and had recognized them. It was awkward at first but Kiyo joked that it would be interesting to see which class would become fully aware they were dating first.”Let’s turn it into an experiment. Who has more Gossips attending their lectures?”

And they were glad that put her more at ease. It felt nice gently rubbing Himiko’s shoulder with their hand as she leaned in and placed a kiss on their cheek.

“Well, I sure hope it’s not mine. That’d be a pain.” she said to play into the gag a bit more. “Besides, it’d be fitting for your class.”

Kiyo feigned offense, mock gasping “Hey now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just you observant types over in anthropology, always wanting to know everything you can about how people work. I can see that tendency being correlated.”

They had told her previously they thought about doing more research for a paper about something like that after listening to some of their colleagues, ironic though it may be, gossipping about student rumors.

“Point taken.” Kiyo returned her smooch with their own, directly on her forehead.

The coffee and tea arrived first. So the talk continued with the added benefit of drinks. Himiko changed the subject to books on her to-read list. “You know there’s this new book I’ve been thinking of assigning in a future quarter, I’d have to read it first.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s about this girl that finds out that she has magical powers and gets some training, eventually she encounters a strange, beautiful spirit and they fall in love. I always feel like courses need a little more gay love. Oh, and the author is too, so the representation is genuine.”

KIyo nodded and listened. “That’s very good. Perhaps we’ll get a couple copies? I’ll pay. I’ll also be getting a few things that have been on my list for a while.”

They held hands, sat so close. Hans resting between both of their legs. It was such a good time to fit in cuddling any time there was a little lull in the action of the date. Some time to lazily place kisses.

Right on cue the meal arrived. Breakfast for dinner was a classic, from the bacon egg and cheese on croissant to the pie slices as a dessert. Reluctantly, they separated to more easily eat and drink.

“This is as good as it usually is, mmm, actually, it’s even better.” Himiko said, taking their hand again.

“I agree. I don’t know if coming alone will cut it for me any more.” Kiyo leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Shall we move on to the next leg, or savor this moment some more?”

The food was finished or wrapped up for later.

After a few more minutes cuddling in the booth, the couple looked through the aisles closer to the cafe portion first and Kiyo’s stack started, growing through each section until they had to split the load and have Himiko carry some.

“Sheesh, I thought you were only getting a few.” she complained, intending it to be lighthearted.

“My list is quite long.” Kiyo replied with a chuckle.

“Guess this is why you needed the bag then. If this was only a few I have to imagine it’s as long as you are.”

“Oh my~” the tall one replied, complete with suggestive eyebrow wiggling.

“Kiyo! Not like that, I meant your height. Did Iruma from the Engineering department teach you that one?”

As that line of discussion thankfully ceased the couple came to the one Himiko was looking for, it was up front on the display close to the cashier. She picked up one copy and put it on her pile and handed the second over to Kiyo.

“We could have, like, a little book club date. Just the two of us.” If only it weren’t so difficult to nuzzle close due to all these books, she thought.

“I think I’d enjoy that. Your company is always a pleasure darling.” They briefly leaned up close, cutely brushing against her before leading the way to check out.

Himiko blushed. “Yeah this was nice, we should do it more often.”

With a couple of coupons Kiyo kept in their pocket the price was cut down, but still cracked 12,000 yen. They stuffed the back full and carried it over their shoulder. Umbrella similarly along their back for if it would be needed again.

Arms wrapped around each other, the couple walked out and noticed the rain had stopped for now, and it would be dry on the bus trips back home.

#himikiyo week #himikiyo #himiko yumeno #korekiyo shinguji #college professor #au #bookstore #first date #writing #fanfic #danganronpa #danganronpa v3

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ohkiyo · 4 years ago

Text

characters: shiratorizawa team, reader, sakusa kiyoomi, and komori motoya. (quick appearance)

warnings: none, just some good ‘ol fluff.

word count: 5.1k

a/n: this is like a peace offering for not posting any content for the last two or three weeks (?), I also did not intend for this to reach over 5k+ words lol, so hopefully you won’t get bored reading this one. I also gave up editing this somewhere in the middle, so yeah that’s that hahaha. XD

anyways have fun and enjoy! :D

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shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

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“We’re going on a trip in our favorite rocket ship, zooming through the sky! Little Einsteins~” both you and Goshiki bounce on your seat at the back of the bus, singing the theme song of the cartoon you two watch for fun a few days ago. “Climb aboard, get ready to explore there’s so much to find little Einsteins~”

“Aren’t they excited?” a fond smile made its way into Semi’s face as he watches the two first years belting their hearts out to a song made for children. Tendou and Yamagata joining the two, causing the overall noise inside the bus to increased in volume. Their English pronunciation was horrible, but it didn’t stop them from sharing their – talent.

Kawanishi, who was two seats away from the four was also humming along, snacking on a chocolate bar, his phone on his hand capturing it all on camera, probably for future blackmail material. While Shirabu who was seated beside him, continues to sleep, unbothered by the ruckus happening inside the bus.

“This is their first time going to Tokyo after all” Reon answered, before he tilted his head to the side when they switch to a different song, this time, it was Tendou’s famous baki baki ni ore. “Since when did Satori taught them that?”

“Probably since the moment they joined”

They were currently on their way to Tokyo for a practice match with another college volleyball team, the colleges that they use to play against in Miyagi were coincidentally busy with academics, something about an upcoming exam that they need to prepare for so they had to cancel.

Fortunately, with Shiratorizawa being a powerhouse school, Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei had connections to institutions outside of Miyagi. So they called up a friend who’s currently handling a college volleyball team and requested for a practice match.

The singing lasted for another thirty minutes before they eventually fell asleep, the bus now quiet. Washijou-sensei who was seated up front, let out a sigh of relief, thankful for the silence, something that Semi and Reon didn’t fail to notice. The two chuckled, as strict as he may be, Washijou-sensei knows when to let his players have their fun, he isn’t exactly a killjoy like some had thought. He’s actually very nice, once you get to know him of course.

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“You’re allowed to go sightseeing but please always bring a buddy with you, to prevent anyone from getting lost” his eyes landed on the older members, silently asking them to keep a close eye on their two first years. “Washijou-sensei and I will be meeting up with Coach Sasaki, so be back before 11”

Everyone nods their heads at his words before the two finally entered the elevator once it reaches your floor. The hotel you were staying at was a bit high class, you don’t know how the club’s fund covered it, but you weren’t complaining.

Each one of you had your own separate room, each guest had three food slips with, one was a free access to an eat-all-you-can food at the dining area’s buffet, while the other two were for a free breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

“So...” Tendou turned around, a grin plastered on his face as he held up the food slip the receptionist gave earlier. “Let’s go fill up our belly and enjoy Tokyo’s nightlife”

With that all nine of you piled into the elevator and press the button for the ground floor, the space a little too tight for your liking. The elevator stops at another floor, two new people entered, resulting in them moving backward to create a space for the newcomers, leaving you to press yourself to the wall.

“Sorry (Y/n)” Ushijima whispered, after accidentally stepping on your foot, he looks over his shoulder as you gave him a thumbs up. Your face now buried on his shirt, his perfume entering your nostrils.

He sure does smell nice, no wonder the girls are after him.

Luckily, for you, your struggle did not last long because finally, the elevator reaches the bottom floor. You swore you almost past out because of how cramp that space was, you feel like you were starting to develop claustrophobia because of it. For a fancy hotel, they sure have very small elevators.

Your group weaves through the other guest inside the hotel, some of them going back to their rooms; some were going the same way as you all were, while the others were going out to enjoy whatever Tokyo has to offer.

“Tokyo hotels are on another level” you whispered, following after them as they went over to where the eating utensils were placed. You carefully scanned the foods displayed, cuisines coming from different countries were all too delicious-looking, you feel like you want to have a plate of each.

“You’re drooling (Y/n)” you heard Shirabu say as he walks past you, the person that was standing behind the counter chuckled as you rub the spit that unknowingly trickled down your chin.

“Sorry”

“It’s fine” she laughs again before she suggested the lamb meat for you to taste. You haven’t tried lamb before so you accepted her offer, watching as she threw in a bunch of slices into the grill. “Well done or medium?”

“Well done please” she started tossing the meat around the steel griddle, the wonderful smell reaching your nose. It smelled so delicious, as the meat slowly turns to that familiar charred look of a well-cooked meat. Once she was done, she places it on your plate as she suggested for you to drizzle it with some of the sauce near the grills.

You moved from one area to another, filling your plate with foods before finally taking a seat on the table they occupied.

“Now we know who are the best people to bring to buffets” Yamagata mused, eyeing yours and Goshiki’s plate filled with different kinds of food, not only that, there were at least one or two more plates on the side also filled with foods.

“They’re big eaters”

Kawanishi took a piece of meat from your plate, exchanging it with a fried dumpling that he accidentally dipped in a spicy sauce. He can handle his spice, however, this particular dip was so spicy his mouth was burning from it.

“Kawanishi-san why…?” you took the glass of cold water Ushijima offered you as you drank it all. It didn’t help though, your mouth was still burning, so Semi fed you a spoonful of chocolate ice cream, the dessert finally easing the flames in your mouth.

“Sorry (Y/n)” Kawanishi bit his lip to stop the smile threatening to come out, secretly sharing a low five with Tendou from under the table. However, that didn’t go unnoticed from Semi’s watchful eyes, stepping on the red head’s foot, Semi shoots him a pointed look as Tendou tries to remove his leg.

“Ow, ow, Semi-Semi that hurts”

The setter didn’t listen to him and continued eating his meal, they all ate in silence after that. Too hungry to strike a conversation with each other, their attention focus on the food in front of them.

Dinner went by fast, once they had finished their food they went out of the hotel and walk through Tokyo. The streets are a little too crowded than the ones they’re used to in Sendai, passing by different kinds of coffee shops, restaurants, inns, and hotels. The choices were endless, it all depends on where you all plan to go.

“Let’s go there first, I want to buy some manga” Tendou pointed at a rather large book shop just across the street, customers walking in and out of the store, wrapped packages in hand.

The inside was filled with rows and rows of shelves full of books, such as novels, textbooks, and of course, manga, on the sides were a section for school supplies and other similar materials. Tendou looks like he’s in heaven because the store offers manga that wasn’t available in Sendai. The moment his foot steps inside the store, he immediately disappeared behind the shelves where the manga was displayed.

“Wasn’t this the book Yato-sensei told us to buy?” Shirabu opened the textbook, skimming through its contents.

“Its ¥2,000” Kawanishi taps the price tag of the same book he’s holding. Shirabu pinches his lips together, closing the book and putting it back to where it belonged.

“Nope, I’ll just borrow from the library”

They move to the end of the aisle to see you holding a basket filled with different kinds of stationeries, Reon and Ushijima also going through the pens and notebooks they had on display before dropping it inside the basket you were holding.

“That’s a lot of pens (Y/n)” Goshiki drops a couple packs of sticky notes in your basket before grabbing a pen and examining it. The little penguin at the top sparking his curiosity as he clicks it, the ball-point emerging from the bottom part of the object.

“My pen’s keeps on disappearing, along with my highlighters and I don’t know who’s taking them” Goshiki stayed quiet at your reply, blinking at you, once, then twice before he slowly returned it in the basket. Reon let out a quiet laugh, fully aware that it was Goshiki who keeps taking your school supplies and not returning them.

Goshiki grabs three more pens and two more highlighters, the exact number of stationeries he took then dropping it in the basket. “I’ll buy these for you (Y/n)-chan”

You smiled at him in gratitude, standing in line at the cashier. “Thank you ‘Tomu-kun”

After paying for the items, you were once again back to the cold street. Aimlessly walking towards your next destination.

“Let’s go to a karaoke bar” Yamagata suggested, zipping up his jacket as the cold had become a little too much for him. Letting out a shiver from the cold air.

“Sure” they located the nearest karaoke bar, entering the establishment. They paid for the amount required for a one-hour session, before entering an empty room. Semi, Tendou, and Yamagata going for the songbook and choosing what song they’re going to sing, while you, Goshiki, and Ushijima went through the menu instead.

“So who’s first?” Tendou’s hand shot up as Yamagata gave him the mic, pressing his song’s code as the title flash on the screen.

“You’re singing Lion King?” Semi laughs watching as Tendou dance around to the song’s opening beat.

“The song has been stuck in my head for a long time now” the redhead cleared his throat before he started singing the first verse.

“There’s a Japanese version of that song?” Kawanishi whispered in surprise, Tendou’s jolly voice and merry demeanor fitting so well with I Just Can’t Wait To Be King’s upbeat tune. It was as if the song was made for him.

10:15pm.

There were only 15 minutes left before the one hour expires, Shirabu was singing some sort of heartbreak song, while sitting on top of Kawanishi who was laying sideways munching on some chips. Totally unbothered by the weight on top of him.

The setter ends his song, a cue for everyone to start packing their stuff and go back to the hotel before Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei catches them still walking around after curfew.

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It’s been three hours since you went to bed and unfortunately not once were you able to get a wink of sleep, nightmares were plaguing your mind. Two people, you’ve never met before constantly visits you in your dreams. It was a man and a woman, you couldn’t see their face but their voices you could hear.

They sometimes try to talk to you, asking how you were doing, if you were alright, or simply saying words of encouragement whenever you were feeling down. Sometimes they were accompanied by another girl, a teenager, who looks like the 15-year-old version of your aunt.

Once again, you turned on your side, pulling your blanket a little closer, screwing your eyes shut. However, it wouldn’t work, so you sat up, and check your phone.

1:30 am.

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating whether or not you should bother one of your teammates. They had a game tomorrow and you don’t want to disturb their sleep, but you were getting restless, and you’re afraid that you might not be able to fall asleep at all.

Finally making up your mind, you got up from your bed, grabbing your phone, key card, before exiting your room. Walking down the hallway towards Goshiki’s room, you have a feeling he’s still awake since he likes to play games until the wee hours of the night.

Standing on his door, you knock twice, pulling at the bottom of your shirt as you look left and right. The empty hallway looking a little too creepy for your liking, you knock again and this time it finally opened, a half-asleep Goshiki greeting you.

“(Y/n)?” he rub his eyes as he opened the door wider, letting you inside. “Did you have nightmares again?”

You nodded your head. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Sure” you followed him to his bed as he took the other side and you on the other. Both of you laying under the covers facing each other. “Better now?”

“Yes, thank you” he gave you one last sleepy smile before closing his eyes. So far, Goshiki was the only one who knows of your nightmares, after he discovered you one time during your first training camp crying under a table.

He was the one who comforted you and offered to let you sleep with him, it somehow became a routine and whenever you would knock on his door, he immediately knows what’s wrong.

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The door to Goshiki’s room burst open as a group of panicked Shiratorizawa upperclassmen barge into the room. Goshiki having heard of his door nearly tearing off its hinges, sat upon his bed. “Senpai?”

Semi marches over to him, grabbing his shoulders and basically shaking him awake. “(Y/n)’s gone, she’s not in her room. We can’t find her anywhere”

“What?”

“Oh man, oh man. If the coach finds out we’re screwed” Yamagata and Tendou grips their hair in frustration, as Reon and Ushijima discuss the possibilities of your disappearance. Kawanishi and Shirabu though were the only ones calm in this situation.

“Huh?” Goshiki’s brain still wasn’t working though as he still sat there in a daze, unaware of the growing problem his upperclassmen were having.

Kawanishi ruffles his hair as he looks around the room, shifting from one foot to another, before his eyes landed on a lump he failed to notice before that was beside the first year. He taps Shirabu on the shoulder then pointing at the said lump, who was starting to move, leaning dangerously close to the edge of the bed before falling off and landing on the floor with a thud. Bringing the blanket along with them.

“What?” they watch as you continued to snore away on the floor, the fall clearly didn’t affect you in the slightest.

Shirabu shots Goshiki a look of suspicion as the rest shakes you awake. “Why is (Y/n) sleeping with you?”

He didn’t really get any answer because Goshiki just looks at him, still half-asleep.

A scandalized gasp left Tendou’s lips as he points a shaky finger towards the spiker. “Did you and (Y/n) do something? You’re only first years, wait until you’re in college!”

“Satori, what are you talking about?”

“Tendou, I think you took this the wrong way” Ushijima’s hand landed on Tendou’s shoulder, as the redhead whips his head to the captain.

“But Wakatoshi-kun you can’t be too sure!”

“(Y/n) probably got scared and went to Tsutomu for help” Reon started pushing them all out of the room. Semi carrying you, still wrap in Goshiki’s blanket, leaving the first year still sitting on his bed. Once his door clicks shut, he fell back on his bed and went back to sleep.

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“Let’s have a good game!”

You carefully arrange the water bottles and towels on the bench as your team and the college team had their match. Diligently doing your duties as a manager.

“Hello” you look up to see your opponents’ manager standing there, giving you an easy smile, stretching out her hand for you to take. “My name is Mikana Ritsu, nice you meet you”

“(L/n) (Y/n), nice to meet you too Mikana-san” you answered, grasping her hand and giving it a firm shake.

She took a seat on the spare bench, with you taking the place beside her. “I didn’t know they had a manager, are you new?”

“Yes, I’m a first year. I started just a few months ago”

She let out a hum in response as the both of you observe the game in silence, leaving your spot once in a while to assist your respective players before sitting back down again and watching the game. From beside you, Mikana lets out a long yawn as she covers her mouth with the clipboard she’s holding.

“Are you tired Mikana-san?”

She nodded, another yawn leaving her lips. “I had to stay up very late last night for my research paper” she chuckled. “Sleep is very hard to come by when you’re in college”

You turn to look at the older girl, a question forming in your mind due to your curious nature. “Mikana-san, how is college like?”

She taps her chin for a moment, looking up at the ceiling to figure out the best answer for your question. “It’s an emotional roller coaster you know? One moment you’re smiling, then the next you’re crying your eyes out”

She turns her body to look at you. “I remember during my first year that my history teacher vowed to fail all of us because the school has enough students already”

You look at her incredulously, surprised at what she said.

“She made her exams and quizzes very difficult, and her projects were also very ridiculous” she huffs in annoyance, bad memories resurfacing. “We didn’t understand at first why she was doing it, but eventually we found out that she was having problems with her dissertation and she’s taking out all her frustrations on us”

You stared at her wide-eyed, your mouth open agape. The fuck? “We all passed though, so suck for her”

“That was just mean”

“I know right?” she lets out a sigh, before standing up from her seat and re-wrapping their setter’s fingers with tape. Tying it to his preferred tightness before she went back to her spot and him going back into court. “Then we have our thesis”

“Oh yeah, I sometimes see students having breakdowns because of it. Is it really that bad?”

“The process of doing it is very hard, because not only do you have to choose your own topic, you have to choose a very specific one and one that has a lot of references available” you nodded your head, listening to her every word. “Getting rejected is fairly common, so you have to go through the process again and then present it to your panelist”

“When you do your defense, is it scary?”

She laugh at your choices of words, but she can’t really deny it though, because she did felt scared whenever they had a defense. “It’s nerve-wracking honestly, you have to prepare an answer for every possible question or else they’ll reject your paper”

“And you have to repeat all over again” she nods. “That’s so tiring”

“It is, but we have to comply or else we’ll never graduate”

“True”

You both talk throughout the game, until the final whistle was blown and the match finally ended, your team winning the match.

“Shiratorizawa High is still as strong as ever I see” she mused, watching as both teams gave each other a bow. “Congratulations (L/n)-chan”

“Thank you Mikana-san”

You both went on your separate ways, tending to your own players. Giving them their towels, and water bottles along with their snacks. After your final goodbye, you all entered the bus, driving back towards your hotel. It was still early, 3:00 pm in Tokyo is still very lively compared to in Sendai. Most people prefer to stay indoors due to the intense heat, however, a bustling city will always be busy no matter what time of the day.

“We’ll be leaving early tomorrow, so if any of you have anything buy. Souvenirs and other things, you can do so right now. But as always, bring a buddy with you and be back by 11” Coach Saito reminded one last time, before he and Washijou-sensei went inside the hotel, probably to rest and get some sleep before they go out again.

“I actually have some things to buy at the mall” Semi started adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“Me too” Yamagata said, rummaging through his bag to find his phone, he almost started panicking when he didn’t saw it, but immediately let out a relieved sigh when he saw the device hiding under his sweaty shirt.

“We saw some souvenir shops a few blocks away from here, we’ll be over there”

Once everything was settled and everyone had decided where they want to go. You all separated, Semi, Reon, Ushijima, Yamagata, and Shirabu going to the mall to buy the things they needed while you, Tendou, Kawanishi, and Goshiki decided to walk around instead.

Going through the various shops that were selling different types of souvenirs from shirts to mugs, to keychains and other kinds of stuff.

“(Y/n)-chan, do you have my phone with you?” Goshiki patted his pockets as he looks for the said device.

“It’s in my bag” to patted the backpack you were carrying, adjusting it on your shoulder before letting out a groan at how heavy it is. “Kawanishi-san can we exchange bags? This one’s very heavy”

He nodded his head, pulling the strap over his head as you exchange bags, you let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the strain on your shoulders are now gone. The smell of freshly cook taiyakis catching your attention as the four of you speedwalk towards the stall making it, the food still hot and fresh.

“Ah, hot, hot, hot” Tendou rapidly let out a breath of air to cool down the burning of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Not expecting for it to be too hot.

You gently blew on your taiyaki, waiting for it to cool down, before you started taking small bites. As your group resume walking along the streets, you spotted a shop filled with trinkets, calling for their attention you all entered the store.

They had a wide range of displays, and although some were a bit expensive, it wasn’t stopping you from buying what you want. The allowance your Aunt gives you every week could literally last you a month, and so any extra money you had, you deposit it in your bank account and wait for the time when you have to use it.

Walking over to Kawanishi, you took your wallet from your bag before you walk off to where they had plushies on display, that dolphin plushy the only thing on your mind right now. Taking the dolphin from its spot on the shelf, you examined it, before looking at a similar one but this time it was a bit bigger. Not too much, so you were contemplating which one to buy.

“The big one looks very comfy though” Goshiki appears beside you, holding a scarf, a cap, and a sweater. “You can snuggle it to sleep”

“Yeah, but don’t you think it’s a little too big?”

He observes the two carefully taking in their size, but still, he preferred the bigger one, so you followed his suggestion.

“Oh! Why not take this one too?” he grabs a tomato plushie of the same size. “Tomato-chan~”

You flick him on the forehead. “I can’t believe you’re sticking with that nickname”

“It’s funny though” he grinned at you.

“Tsutomu, (Y/n) let’s go” the both of you didn’t hear Tendou called you out, as the two of you stayed there. Goshiki insisting that he buys the tomato plushie for you, while you immediately denying his offer because it was already too much. It cost about a thousand yen, and he still has the items he’s holding. Not only that, you still remembered how he bought you those pens and highlighters last night.

The bell hanging at the top of the door rang as the two middle blockers left the shop, unknowingly leaving the two of you behind.

They cross the street, turning a few more corners. Before they were back to the same book store everyone went to last night. Tendou wanting to buy a few more mangas, then Kawanishi forgot he needs to buy a new calculator because he broke his old one. He could just buy one in Sendai, but why wait when he could just do it now?

“(Y/n) can you get my wallet? It’s in the-“ Kawanishi turns around, but no signs of the two first years. He looks from left to right, thinking that maybe they’re just around the corner, but alas, there were no Goshiki, and (Y/n).

“Uh… Tendou-san” Kawanishi tugs on the red head’s jacket as Tendou turns around.

“Hmm, what is it Taichi?”

“(Y/n) and Tsutomu are gone”

Tendou’s eyebrows furrowed as he looks behind the second year, thinking that maybe he was just pulling a prank on him, but still, like before, no first years in sight.

“Oh dear”

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“I can’t believe you actually bought the tomato plushie” you stared at the red-colored plush inside the bag you were holding. Both of you exiting the shop.

“Told you I’d buy it” he looks proud though, you don’t know why, but you’re very grateful for the gift. You note to yourself to get him something in return in the future. “Are Tendou-san and Kawanishi-san still inside?”

“Maybe” he went back inside the shop, as you waited outside the door. When he went back out, he looks worried, which also made you worried.

“Something wrong?”

“They’re not inside”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He rub his arms, as he went back inside again to check. But still, they weren’t there anymore, walking back out, he shook his head.

“Did they just left us?”

“Probably”

“Should we go find them?” you started fidgeting on your spot, before you remembered, you had Kawanishi’s bag with you. Opening his bag you located his phone only to be left disappointed when you find out it’s dead. “Great, now we can’t contact them”

“Should we go back to the hotel instead?”

“I don’t even know which way our hotel is”

Both of you shared a heavy exhale, retracing your steps to where you both felt your hotel was located. However, you both accidentally took a wrong turn and were now in a different part of the city.

“I knew leaving that place was a bad idea”

“Oh. Aren’t you two from Shiratorizawa?” you saw two persons walking over your direction, wearing a light green and yellow track jacket and track pants.

“Yes” you answered, the one who was currently talking looks nice, you don’t know about his companion though. Even with half of his face covered with a mask, you could still feel the intensity of his stare.

“Ah. I’m Komori Motoya, and this is Sakusa Kiyoomi” he pointed to his friend. “We’re from Itachiyama, we went against your school before”

Itachiyama, the school is familiar, but these two? Not very much. However, they seem nice.

“Are the others with you?” Komori looks around the vicinity. “I don’t see them”

“Uh…”

“You got lost didn’t you?” it was Sakusa who asks this time and Komori let out a laugh.

“We can’t contact them because this phone is dead-” you showed them Kawanishi’s phone. “-and it’s also the only one we have right now”

Komori turns to look at Sakusa. “You have Ushijima’s number right? Why don’t you give him a call, they might be worried right now”

Wordlessly, Sakusa fished his phone from his pocket and dialed your captain’s number, pressing the loudspeaker button. It rang a few times before Ushijima finally picks up.

“Hello?”

“We found your stray” Sakusa answered before putting the phone in front.

“Ushijima-san!”

”(Y/n)? Goshiki? Where are you two?”

You both look at the two, but Komori answered for you. “We’re in front of the Kamakura coffee shop, where are you?”

“In front of the Marimo bookstore [1]”

“Alright stay there, we’ll be there in ten minutes”

“Alright”

The call ended and the four of you made your way towards the bookstore, Komori was the only talkative one between the two, instantly befriending the both of you. Although Sakusa would sometimes participate in the conversation, majority of it, he prefers to listen.

“So, what are you doing here in Tokyo?” Komori questioned.

“We had a practice match with a college team today” Goshiki answered, holding your hand to avoid getting separated from the group, his initial fear from when he discovered you two got left behind still present.

“Are teams in Miyagi too weak to handle Shiratorizawa?” Sakusa’s eyes momentarily shift in your direction before focusing forward.

“I guess so” you shrug your shoulders, you were told no high schools in Miyagi wants to have a joint practice with your school anymore, and you don’t really know the reason behind it. So you can’t really say they’re all weak.

Thankfully ten minutes later, you arrive at Marimo Bookstore to see your seniors waiting in front of the building in worry.

“(Y/n), Tsutomu. There you are!” Tendou was about to give you two a big hug, but Semi beat him to it by bonking the two of you on the head.

“You idiots! What did I say about wandering around?!”

“We weren’t wandering around! We were just inside the shop when Tendou-san and Kawanishi-san left us!” you replied with a pout, rubbing your head as Semi shot the two a glare as they both look away. Kawanishi casually whistling a tune whilst Tendou rocks himself back and forth on the soles of his feet.

“Well, we’ve delivered the package. We have to go now, see you guys next time” Komori wave your group goodbye as Reon and Semi said their thanks.

Sakusa gave Ushijima a nod before turning around. “See you at nationals Wakatoshi”

“Of course”

They both left, their tall figures disappearing into the crowd, as your group went back to your hotel. Upon arriving at your lodging, you stumbled along with Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei near the entrance, the two older men inquiring of your shopping spree. Everyone answered the question as honestly as they could, leaving out the details of yours and Goshiki’s little accident.

Satisfied, they both left while your group went back to your own room to enjoy the rest of your stay, and to avoid any more mishaps.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

[1] anyone here who also watches sekai-ichi hatsukoi?

a/n: the idea from the college convo between Mikana and reader was inspired from a conversation I had with a mutual hehehe, though not word per word but just the overall gist of it. Dear, if you’re reading this you know who you are. ;)

also, my team stories aren’t suppose to contain any romance, yet here I am lowkey shipping Goshiki and reader.

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ficsilike-reblogged · 4 years ago

Text

Blood in the Rivers: VII

A/N: I apologize for the wait. I hope you guys still like this little story of mine.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x F!Reader (Tully)

Rating: T (Maybe M??) For Blood, allusions to smut, my continued overuse of italics, poorly written, soft confessions of feelings

Word Count: 8.3k (Someone please take my computer away)

Read Chapters I-VI here! Or on Ao3!

Chapter Seven: The Price of Happiness

All of Dorne was a delight to the senses. The food was better, the wine more tart, the air itself smelled sweeter and punctuated with the scent of salt of the ocean and the heat of the sun-warmed walls. It was paradise. Never in her life had she met a family more loving and open with their affections—or their squabbles. The Sand Snakes welcomed her with open arms and quelled most of the fears that turned Y/N’s stomach.

And having the company of Sansa and Arya gave Y/N an immeasurable amount of joy. Simply knowing they were alive and well and within her reach let a small bit of weight lift from her shoulders. All of them melded together into a strange camaraderie that Y/N quickly grew accustomed to. Arya trained with Obara, Elia, and Obella—and little Dorea would sometimes sneak away from her mother and Septa to try to keep up with the older girls. And Arya was insistent that Y/N join them at least three times a week. Sansa would sup with Nymeria and Tyene and would drag Y/N along when she wasn’t occupied with Ellaria and Oberyn. They would read to little Loreza to help her sleep. Sarella was still in Oldtown but had sent a raven with a kind word, welcoming Y/N into the fold.

All of it was…perfect. So perfect that Y/N was waiting for something terrible to happen to knock her from the pedestal of the happy life she’d created at Sunspear.

“You are quiet, My Tully,” Ellaria said as they sat together on the sand of the strip of beach just outside the fortress’ walls. A handful of handmaidens waited to be called, standing in Sunspear’s forgiving shadows, with a half dozen guards. Ellaria had stolen Y/N away from Manfrey Martell’s lessons. Oberyn’s cousin was the current Castellan of Sunspear and had been teaching Y/N the proper way of keeping the household and surrounding city running smoothly, as it had for centuries.

“I am enjoying the view,” Y/N replied as she watched Ellaria tie her skirts a little high around her waist as she wanted to wade into the water. Her four daughters were all laughing and splashing a few paces away, without a care and nearly infectious with their joy.

“We agreed to not lie to each other, My Tully. Nor keep secrets.” When she was finished tying her own, Ellaria pulled Y/N to her feet and made quick work of tying her skirts, too. She grasped her hands and led her out to the lapping water.

It was warm and clear—a far cry from the usually-muddy waters of the rivers around Riverrun. Ellaria continued to lead her in until their bundled skirts were in danger of getting wet from the shallow waves but did not release her grip even as they slowed to a stop. She pulled Y/N a little closer and brushed a kiss against her shoulder, exposed in the Dornish style dress Nymeria’s favorite seamstress had tailored especially for her in a pretty sky blue. The ugly scars from the arrow were exposed but very few paid them any mind.

“Tell me what is burdening you.”

“You will think me foolish,” Y/N murmured.

“Never.”

Y/N sighed and squeezed at Ellaria’s hands before wrapping her arms around herself. “Everything here is so…lovely. A paradise.”

“Just as I told you all those moons ago at that wretched wedding; I knew you had the right heart to make Dorne your home.”

It was almost as if Ellaria was trying to banish whatever gloomy thought Y/N had with kisses as she stole one from Y/N’s frowning mouth and then another as she started to smile. “And I am grateful to be here, to have you in my arms now—you and Oberyn both. To be welcomed to happily by your family. But I am worried…the gods have only afforded me this happiness to rip it away from me. Surely I cannot be this happy for the rest of my days.”

“Why do you think that your happiness must have limits? The gods delight in their creations. Why should we not delight in them as well?” Ellaria smiled and looked like a goddess herself in the sunlight and surrounded by clear, sparkling water. “Your happiness does not have a limit because the gods deem it so. Only you can determine how happy you are in this life. I have chosen to take every opportunity to seize happiness, joy, whenever I can. You have brought me such joy, My Tully. I want you to have the same—but you must let yourself.” Ellaria pulled Y/N close again and pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Will you let yourself?” She asked against her lips.

“I will try,” Y/N answered with a laugh.

A sudden splash of water had her sputtering and Ellaria chuckled. “You will,” Ellaria stated, wet fingers trailing against Y/N’s cheek.

Ellaria tasted like saltwater and sunshine when Y/N kissed her again. “I love you,” Y/N said, the words bubbling out of her throat before she could even think to stop them.

“My heart has been shared between you and Oberyn since I saw you at the market. I love you, sweet girl, and I will remind you of that fact every chance you give me.”

“You travelled through the Kingswood during a battle?” Y/N could feel her throat tightening with each passing word. Word had come to Oberyn that the Lannisters knew Sandor had been seen in Dorne. Ellaria’s words about embracing joy—and the fact that Ellaria loved her—had lifted her mood for the past handful of days but the news had quickly soured her disposition. She asked plainly what had happened on the way to Dorne with Sansa and Arya and expected to hear that he had taken the most benign route possible and then be on her way. That was not the case. “I told you to take her to safety-”

“The little bird’s alive, ain’t she?” Sandor griped. “She’s fine.”

“Thank the Seven,” she retorted, face still contorted with rage. “I cannot fathom your reason for endangering her—you know the Stone Crows-”

“Aye, the Stone Crows,” he mimicked, remembering the Mountain Clan men Tyrion had brought to King’s Landing and used as reinforcements around the castle during the Battle of the Blackwater. “Stupid bunch of brats with swords. They bleed just like the rest of the Lannister’s cunt forces.” But he dropped his voice and leaned close, letting the scent of blood orange he had on his tongue waft over her. “You were right to leave her care to me. I would never let any hurt come to her. Do not doubt that again.”

Y/N scowled. “And Arya? You were just letting her run about, killing people?”

“She is a little beast. There is no taming that one. You’re lucky I got her here without gagging her.” His burnt face twisted. “I’m sure you taught her that.”

“The only thing I tried to teach Arya was how to use a bow.” Y/N grumbled and rubbed at her temples. “But, thank you for seeing them here—safely. It means a great deal to me.”

“Did you truly kill Gregor?”

The question surprised her, as did the soft tone (as soft as Sandor could be, anyway). “I did.”

“Was it quick?”

“Not as quick as I would have liked.” Y/N sighed. “I am sorry I took that from you, your revenge.”

“You did what you had to do. He deserved what he got.” He glanced at the door to Sansa’s chambers. He had been assigned, by a smug Oberyn who knew that Sandor wanted to leave, to be Sansa’s sworn sword. “The Little Bird would say the gods were kind or some other stupid shit.”

“Are you certain seeing his rotting head would not quell some of that rage? To see he is truly dead? The Silent Sisters haven’t taken it for cleaning just yet.” It was still sitting in a box in one of the fortress’ undercrofts. (Arya had poked at it with the end of a quill and Sansa had steadfastly refused to look at the decomposing lump of flesh when Y/N had told them about her own ‘adventure’ in King’s Landing.)

“No,” he said, final and direct.

“Very well. But I am sure you will lay your eyes upon it eventually. Oberyn has said he wants it dipped in gold and strung up in chains within the throne room once it is clean.” Y/N looked at Sandor, truly looked at him. “Please, be kind to Sansa. While she is learning the ways of the world at Prince Doran’s behest, she still has a gentle heart. And she is very fond of you even if you and I both know nothing will come of this childish infatuation of hers.”

Sandor’s eyes narrowed but he did not say anything.

Y/N took a small step forward, knowing she needed to say this if only to sate the small bit of fear she had in her heart. “But if I ever catch you breaking her heart or using her as your brother intended to use me, I will make sure your skull sits next to his.”

“My lady!” Daisy dashed into the hall and barely cast a glance at Sandor. “Prince Oberyn is waiting for you in his solar.”

Y/N nodded and looked one last time at Sandor and received a half-hearted glare in return before she let Daisy lead her through the gilded, warm halls even though she had traversed this path too many times to count, often in the dark of the night. She tried to shake off the foreboding feeling of the Lannisters knowing Sandor was in Dorne and the annoyance that the swordsman also put Sansa and Arya in harm’s way with minimal success. Daisy left her side with a smile as they reached the opened door and Y/N sighed as she spied him sitting at his desk intensely focused on whatever task was set in front of him. Bits of parchment were scattered about. A well of ink was precariously perched near the edge. The entire room was draped in shades of ruby red and highlights of orange that shimmered in the sunlight that streamed in from the large windows, opened to let in the salted air from the ocean below. Sumptuous cushions were piled beneath the western window and a small table with a cyvasse board was set up across the room near the door that led to his bedchamber. He almost seemed to be a work of art she was fortunate to look upon—a god at rest captured by the finest artist the world had ever known. While she had readily admitted her love to Ellaria, she could never seem to find a time to say it to Oberyn. She knew she loved him, loved him like she loved Ellaria. But it seemed inappropriate to blurt it out over a meal or in the heat of some tryst. (And Ellaria found the entire situation hilarious.)

His head snapped up as he heard her footfalls and his lips pushed up into a smile as he set down his quill and waved her over. “Come here, my moonlight.” He reached out to her with ink-smudged fingers and pulled her into his lap as she laughed.

“What are you working on?” She asked, pulling the bit of parchment he was scratching at off the desk. It looked to be a correspondence to his brother Doran—at least that is what she assumed before Oberyn took it from her grasp and flung it over his shoulder.

“Nothing of importance.” He pressed a kiss just below her ear just to hear her laugh again as his grip squeezed around her waist. “I do have something from home for you though.” He patted at her thigh to have her stand and then he strode over to the single trunk in the corner and opened it. Something blue was clutched in his hand and his smile was contagious as he turned toward her. “Come, my moonlight. Let us see if it will suit you.”

Y/N did as she was bid and walked to his side. Blue velvet unfurled from his grip and she unconsciously reached out for it and let her fingers trace over the delicately embroidered, inky black trout at the center of the cloth. Small, red Pentoshi towers lined the hem in sparkling thread. As she pulled it closer, the faded scent of evergreens and her mother’s perfume met her nose.

Oberyn carefully pulled the cloak from her grasp and then set it upon her shoulders and fastened the aged silver clasps, fashioned to look like fish scales, onto her dress. It fit perfectly. He smiled as he said, “your father said it was the cloak he had made for your mother when they were married. Her bridal cloak—now your maiden’s cloak.”

Y/N flung her arms around his neck and held him tight. “Thank you. Thank you for this.” She knew exactly what it was when he had first pulled it from the trunk. Her mother had always wrapped her in the cloak when the air turned cold within the halls of her father’s keep. It would drag behind Y/N’s little legs to the delight of her mother who would then chase after her and scoop her daughter up into her arms. The cloak would be wrapped around her tightly to escape the chill by her mother’s careful hands. It was like she could hug her mother again in a strange sort of way.

Oberyn laughed as he returned the embrace. He pulled back just enough to press his lips to hers, delving his tongue into her mouth with ease and delighting in the happy sound it coaxed from her throat. His sneaking fingers slid to grab at her ass and smiled against her mouth as he did so.

“But I have a question for you.”

“And I shall answer.”

Oberyn looked at her, dark eyes shining in the sunlight but…the smallest bit of trepidation also seemed to color his face, too.

“What is it, my prince?” Y/N asked, voice soft.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“I realize that I have pressed this all upon you like a man half-crazed. I did not even ask if you wanted to be married—or if you would prefer a life like Ellaria—or a life outside of Dorne and free of me when this war is over. I only had the agreement drawn up after you told me of Tywin’s intentions. I could have stolen you away after your betrothal to him was made public but I knew it would cause bloodshed—and you, my moonlight, have a gentle heart.”

Y/N smiled as she looked at him, heart squeezing. Knowing he further delayed his want for vengeance because he cared for her meant more than words could say. Her thumb swept across his cheeks and she savored the warmth he exuded. “You have a gentle heart, my prince. And I am blessed by the gods to know it.”

Oberyn kissed her softly. “My own mind can be a cruel place. And Stark—Robb—had mentioned how you never spoke of marriage when you were young. It was not something you ever wished of.”

“I was blessed by parents who loved each other fiercely. And Uncle Hoster knew he could never bring a match forward that my father would approve of so he did not try. A child loved as much as I was would only demand the same love in a marriage. It was made increasingly apparent that a loveless marriage was what most women had, especially women of my station. I would not marry if I did not love them. If I was not sure that my heart was safe.”

She could almost taste the words bubbling on his tongue as he opened his mouth, “and I know that I have hurt you-”

“I want to marry you, Oberyn.” She said with a smile, feeling silly, happy tears sting her eyes with Ellaria’s words once again ringing in her head. “I want to call you my husband and I want to be your wife.” Her heart was light and singing in her chest. It was true. She knew that with every fiber of her being.

“You do?”

“I do.”

“You love me,” Oberyn breathed. And then he was smiling at her as if she had hung the sun and stars.

“I love you.” And it was so easy to say.

Oberyn’s warm hands cradled her face and he pressed his mouths to hers. This kiss was the softest he had ever given her, almost reverent. “You love me,” he whispered into her panting mouth as he pulled her ever closer. “Tell me. Tell me again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.” The words were hummed, happy. “I will love you forever.”

And she believed him.

Y/N woke when she heard a tapping at her door.

“Y/N,” the voice whispered on the other side. “Are you awake?” The door creaked open and a small figure slipped in. Arya climbed into her bed and slipped beneath the silk sheets when Y/N waved her forward.

“What is wrong, Arya?” Y/N asked, pulling the younger girl close and trying to keep her eyes open. Dinner with Oberyn and Ellaria had lasted well into the night and was filled with sweet wine and spiced foods and heated kisses that seemed to eat time. The realization that they all loved each other left them drunk on each other’s presence and the wine certainly did not help. Her throat was sore from overuse and she could still feel phantom fingers between her thighs. She must have only been asleep for an hour before Arya knocked.

“Bad dream.”

Y/N hummed and pushed her fingers through Arya’s hair. If she was being honest, Y/N was almost surprised it took Arya this long to crawl into her bed. Sansa had done it at least a dozen times since Y/N had arrived at Sunspear. But Arya, genuinely, kept her hurt close to her chest so Y/N did not blame her for taking the time she needed.

“I keep seeing the Freys toss Mother’s body into the river.”

Y/N instinctively tightened her hold. She had not realized Arya had witnessed the Red Wedding. Sandor must have taken her to The Twins in hopes of reuniting Arya with Robb and Catelyn—a bloodbath greeted them instead.

“I see it over and over when I close my eyes. I want them dead. All of them. Every single Frey needs to be dead-”

“They will be. I’ll make sure of it.” Y/N pressed a kiss to Arya’s forehead. Despite her exhaustion, she meant her promise. All of them would meet The Stranger for their crimes. The joy Ellaria spoke of, that Y/N was quick adopting, seemed to have stretched to vengeance. There would be joy to see their enemies bleed. There would be joy to see them dead. “Even if I have to do it myself.”

“The Boltons, too,” Arya said, voice starting to tighten with unshed tears.

“Oh, yes. We’ll rip them out. Root and stem.” The traitorous Northern house would see a gruesome end, too. No matter if they were holding Winterfell or not.

Arya let herself cry then, curling farther into Y/N’s hold and Y/N rubbed her back with soft hums, letting the young girl finally express her grief. But, eventually, Arya’s sobs quieted to even breaths. She had fallen asleep on Y/N’s chest just as another knock came at the door. Sansa slipped into her room and Y/N found herself between the Stark sisters as the moonlight shone through the balcony opening. “A bad dream?” Y/N whispered as Sansa snuggled into the overstuffed pillow beside her.

Sansa shook her head. “I am happier than I have been in a long time. And I owe it all to you.” She reached out to grasp one of Y/N’s hands as it still rubbed at Arya’s back.

But Y/N shook her head. “You survived because you are strong, little one.”

“It is because of you that Arya is here, that we are alive. We are safe. Together.”

Y/N squeezed her hand. “You and your sister both have been through great and terrible trials. You must be there for each other.”

Sansa pressed closer and tightened her grip on Y/N’s hand. “Can you sing to us? Like you did when we were children?”

Y/N wanted to say that she and Arya were still children—just grown too quick by the terrors of the world. “What would you like to hear, little one?”

“Jenny’s Song. You sang that the night before you left Winterfell.”

“That is a sad song. Are you certain?”

Sansa nodded.

“High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts…”

Daisy flittered about her chambers, gathering a handful of dresses and chemises and folding them neatly into a pair of saddlebags. Prince Doran had sent Y/N a raven and requested that she, Oberyn, and Ellaria travel to the Water Gardens so he could make her acquaintance. “Truthfully, I have written Oberyn several times inquiring when I would meet you but he has taken it upon himself to hoard your time. If you are agreeable, I would have you visit the Water Gardens and would host a feast in your honor. Lords and ladies are already arriving so I hope to see you soon.” He signed the missive with a flourish.

When Y/N asked Oberyn about ignoring his brother’s requests to visit the Water Gardens he smirked and kissed her. “It is not a crime to want you all to myself.”

Y/N chided him with a smile and said she’d already sent a raven back to Doran stating that they would be there the following night. The palace Doran called home was only three leagues away along a pleasant, coastal road. Oberyn knew it well as he usually visited his brother once every fortnight. (“But I have been preoccupied, my moonlight!”)

“I can pack my own bags, Daisy,” Y/N said, noticing a strange rigidity to her friend’s posture as she went about her unnecessary task. She tugged at Daisy’s skirts like a child, slowing her from her quick pace. “Something is troubling you.” And then poor Daisy nearly collapsed in tears and Y/N hurried to wrap the other woman in her arms, shushing her sobs. When her cries quieted, Y/N held Daisy’s wet face between her hands. “Tell me. Let me help you.”

Daisy sniffled. “Daemon wants to marry me.”

“But that is happy news?” Y/N asked, genuinely confused. Daisy and Daemon seemed more in love than ever since coming to Dorne.

“Father will never allow it.” More tears trickled from Daisy’s eyes.

Seeing her dear friend so distraught pulled a heated type of anger from her chest and Y/N curled her hands tighter around Daisy’s face, making sure she listened. “Your father didn’t say anything when we were trapped during the Battle of Blackwater. He did not send a raven to see how you fared. He did not inquire after you after I moved you to Dorne out of a selfish desire to keep you by my side, to keep you safe. Tell me: do you want to marry Daemon?”

“I do,” she hiccupped. “More than anything. He even sent a raven to his lord father for his approval.”

“And he gave it readily, did he not?” she asked, already knowing the answer and watched as Daisy nodded. “Then you have no barrier. If Lord Allyrion requires a dowry, I will pay it. I will pay for the entire wedding if it means you smile again.” If Y/N was allowed to be happy then surely Daisy was, too. Her good, sweet Daisy.

“But Father-”

“Your father can come to Sunspear and speak to me if he thinks to stand in the way of your happiness.”

Daisy sniffled again and pushed out a shaking breath. “I would never ask you to-”

“You didn’t ask, Daisy. But I am telling you that I will not allow your father to keep you from being happy.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Daisy’s forehead and felt a bit of tension leave her shoulders. “You and Daemon are traveling with us to the Water Gardens. We can celebrate your betrothal alongside mine.”

Daisy’s smile was watery but sincere and she suddenly lunged forward to wrap her arms around Y/N in a tight hug. And Y/N was simply happy to see Daisy relieved of her turmoil—at least for a moment. And she meant what she said; she would fight Daisy’s father for her to marry Daemon. And she knew she would win.

The Stark sisters and the Sand Snakes met them at the gates of Sunspear and wished them a pleasant journey. “Please give Prince Doran my regards,” Sansa said before they departed. Y/N knew she missed Doran’s company and teachings, he had sent her away from the Water Gardens to Sunspear when he’d been given word that Y/N was coming to Dorne. And while Sansa liked not having to sneak through the halls to avoid Myrcella, Y/N knew she adored Doran and everything he taught her.

The ride was enjoyable and short and Y/N took the opportunity to let her mare run through the shallow waters. The horse was a gift from Oberyn, a traditional Dornish betrothal gift. Sand Steeds were a point of pride for the Dornish; could run for a night, a day, and another night without tiring or floundering. Most were treated as dotingly as children. The horse was as dark as night with a burnt orange mane and tail—Y/N had named her Qēlos, the High Valyrian word for star. She was the most beautiful horse that Y/N had ever seen and the smoothest ride she’d ever experienced.

But soon the palace of the Water Gardens crested on the horizon, rising from the sand with white and yellow stone and brining the scent of blood orange groves. Lush greenery spilled over the walls as did the sound of trickling water. The golden gates were opened by a pair of hooded guards who bowed as they passed. Servants lined the courtyard to welcome them and handle their horses and bags, each of them bowing in turn as well. Y/N barely had time to admire the beautiful, arching architecture of the palace before Oberyn and Ellaria both grabbed at her hands and all but pulled her inside. She craned her neck and looked everywhere she could as she was pulled this way and that, down a hall, around a corner, further into the shadowed halls by her eager betrothed and paramour. The entire palace seemed to hum with life. Chambers and apartments were filled with visiting lords and ladies. Servants were slipping by, arms filled with dresses or linens or food. Music whispered from around some other corner.

They eventually slowed in front of a beautiful white door banded with bronze and two guards nodded at Oberyn before pushing it open. The solar was filled with more white marble and fluttering white curtains that overlooked the manicured gardens and a handful of pools and fountains. The furniture was a warm, golden wood and every surface had a bowl of some sort of berry or wine or golden trinket or statue. A man in a wheeled chair was sitting behind the perfectly organized desk and looked up from his work with a smile as he heard the door open. His face was kind and greying black hair was cropped to his shoulders. Robes of orange hugged his thin shoulders and sparkled with golden thread.

“Doran, this is-”

Doran waved a hand and dismissed Oberyn’s introduction. “Lady Tully. We meet at long last.”

Y/N quickly curtseyed and placed her hand in his when he reached for her, smiling when he pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. “It is wonderful to meet you, Prince Doran.”

He patted her hand and then wheeled himself around the desk. “You are early. I would have met you at the gates.”

“We never keep your time tables, brother.”

Doran chuckled affectionately. “I know. But you are all here now. I will make the proper introductions at the feast tomorrow. I want you to enjoy my home before the wedding.”

“You will come to Sunspear, won’t you?” Ellaria asked with a smile.

Doran nodded. “I will be there next month for the festivities. I would not miss my only brother’s wedding. I would have preferred to have it earlier,” there was a pointed look at Oberyn who only smiled, unperturbed, “but I understand that Oberyn wanted you to be ‘settled’ in Sunspear before making you a Martell.”

Y/N smiled at Oberyn without thinking. It had been Oberyn’s idea to hold off on the wedding and she was grateful. Having the stretch of time, letting her heart settle, before her life changed again in another way was a quiet kindness that she would always hold dear.

“Did little Loreza enjoy the book I sent for her nameday?” Doran asked.

“She did,” Ellaria answered, “insisted on having Sansa read it every night.”

“Sansa sends her love,” Y/N quickly added.

“She is a fine lady. I was lucky to have her here despite the unfortunate circumstances.” It was said so earnestly that Y/N couldn’t help another smile splitting her face.

A quick knock at the door revealed Daisy, escorted by a beaming Daemon, carrying a familiar wooden box. They both curtseyed or bowed in turn before carefully setting the box on the edge of Doran’s desk and then excusing themselves, Daisy winking as she went and letting Daemon curl his hand around hers right before the door shut in its frame again.

An anticipatory silence stretched through the room as they all looked at the box. It was simple. No embellishments or special cuts of wood. It was just a box. But Doran reached out and dragged a finger across it like it was made of something precious.

“I shall like to speak with Lady Tully for a moment,” he said quietly without taking his eyes off the box.

“Of course,” Oberyn said before pressing a kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “We shall just be at the pools,” he added, mostly for Y/N’s benefit so she could know where to find them.

Ellaria also kissed her cheek before following Oberyn out, providing some comfort, and soon Y/N was left alone with the ruling Prince of Dorne.

Doran rolled back around his desk and gestured for Y/N to take a seat in the ornately carved chair across from him and she quickly settled onto the white linen cushion. She was equal parts nervous and hopeful as Doran gave her a soft look she couldn’t quite decipher. “I will admit that I had my reservations when your raven first arrived. Fostering your little wolf was not a part of my plan but it was a welcome surprise. Lady Sansa is quite the student. She would have made quite the formidable Princess of Dorne.”

Y/N cocked her head to side at that, wondering what he meant, but he pressed on.

“And now you have brought me a wonderful gift.” He opened the box, sliding the wooden cover off with ease and then reached inside. The oversized skull had been dipped in gold only a few days prior and glittered in the bright sunlight as Doran held it aloft. “To know he is dead has brought my soul a small reprieve of the ache it has felt for decades.” The sound of the skull hitting the desk as he set it down was low and heavy. His fingers spanned over the cap and his nails bit into the gold. “Oberyn has always been the viper in the grass—ready and willing to strike at a moment’s notice. A willful little brother who seemed to outshine the sun whenever he was happy and burn anyone who tempted his wrath.” Doran fixed her with his dark gaze. “But I am sure you have seen that firsthand.”

“I have,” Y/N answered.

Doran nodded and did not move his hand from the dead man’s head. “You are like him, aren’t you? A burning rage just simmering beneath your skin. But you are able to hold your wrath and ruin back to play the game.” He hummed and Y/N tried not to fidget in her chair like a child. Doran was more perceptive than almost everyone she had ever met and she was waffling between being impressed and being innerved. “If you can kill a beast like this and still be gentle, you will be a fine Martell.” His fingers finally lifted from the skull to reach out toward her again and Y/N readily placed her hand in his and smiled as he squeezed her hand. “Whatever you need, simply ask. I will make sure you receive it.”

The feast was a decadent affair. Filled with food and wine and music to delight every sense. And the assembled crowd had roared when Doran introduced her as, “Lady Y/N Tully—Slayer of the Mountain!” Oberyn kept a hand over her leg, dragging his fingers against her thigh and growing more and more bold as the night continued on until he was all but cupping her through the flowing blue silk of her skirts. Ellaria pressed berries against Y/N’s smiling mouth as she laughed, knowing exactly what Oberyn was doing.

The sticky night air had her pulling off the thin cloak she had about her shoulders, letting the golden Myrish lace pool around her waist. A few of the guests let their eyes linger on the scars on her exposed chest and back—or the thin bit of scarring across her cheek and then asked if she’d be willing to tell her story. Stating “I was shot by a fool” was infinitely less riveting than “I was able to evade The Mountain’s blade” but both stories gained her a bit of fanfare regardless. The golden skull was displayed in front of her on the table like a shining beacon of how she, a lady, brought a small bit of vengeance on behalf of the ruling family of Dorne.

“The Dornishmen burn to avenge Elia and her children.” It was something Manfrey had told her during her studies, face solemn and sad. And Y/N watched almost every person revere the gold-dipped skull in a sort of wicked appreciation before they were formally introduced.

The only person who seemed unnerved by it was Princess Myrcella, tucked into the arm of Prince Trystane. She was too polite to wrinkle her nose at the display of carnage and vengeance but pointedly did not look at it even as Trystane marveled at how large the skull was.

“Dorne suits you, Princess,” Y/N said to Myrcella knowing the young Princess was just as much out of her element as Y/N had been in King’s Landing.

“You as well it would seem,” Myrcella said with a small smile. “I hope to speak with you about…about your duties here. Prince Doran has said you’re very capable.”

Y/N nodded with a smile of her own. “I shall answer any question you may have, Princess.”

Trystane, heir to the throne of Dorne, was definitely his father’s son but seemed to have inherited a bit of a flirtatious streak from his uncle as he managed to snag a berry from Ellaria’s bowl while getting Y/N to agree to a dance. He winked as he walked away with a furiously blushing Myrcella still on his arm and Oberyn laughing into the night air.

“Careful, my prince, it seems Trystane is trying to steal our Tully,” Ellaria mused with a sly smile.

Oberyn leaned close to press a kiss against Y/N’s throat and smirked when she shivered. “Is it true, my moonlight?”

“Oh, yes. You’ve found me out. It was all a ruse to marry a too-young prince and have the Riverlands invade Dorne.” She gasped as Oberyn pinched at her inner thigh, pleasant ripples shooting up her leg and coiling in her stomach.

“Careful. Careful.”

The mischief that sparkled in his eyes made Y/N smile and she placed her hand over his and squeezed, for herself more than him she supposed, and she grasped Ellaria’s hand, too. “The gods could not take me from you both. I promise you that.”

But then Harmen Uller then swept her into a dance, not necessarily waiting for her to accept his hand before pulling her out of her seat, and drew a hearty laugh from her throat as they nearly bowled over other dancing couples. Ellaria then stole her for a dance of her own and then Trystane proved himself to be a graceful dancer, too.

It was all so…perfect.

Y/N pressed a kiss to Ellaria’s cheek as Oberyn danced with little Lady Coryanne Uller, Ellaria’s niece. She was a girl not but five and already named the heir to Hellholt after her father.

“I just need a moment to catch my breath, my love.”

“Do not be too long. I do believe Lord Allyrion is waiting his turn for a dance,” Ellaria said with a chuckle.

Y/N smiled and promised she would be back soon and then started toward one of the side doors of the grand hall, passing Doran as she did and squeezing his shoulder as she went. A servant opened the door with a soft smile and a small bow, letting her out into one of the halls. She slipped through and heaved a sigh when the door closed behind her. The music was muted and the air cooler against her heated skin.

A soft noise caught her attention in the quiet of the hall and her curiosity led her to peek around the corner to see Daemon and Daisy wrapped around each other. Again. Y/N stifled a laugh and turned away, continuing down the hall in the opposite direction. A handful of guards were stationed along the wall, each of them acknowledging her presence in one way or another as she found her way out onto a portico overlooking the still water pools. The blood orange trees swayed in the cool night breeze and brought the scent of citrus to her nose. She leaned against a carved column with a hum, resting for just a few breaths.

“My lady.”

Y/N stood straight and looked out into the night.

A short figure emerged from the shadows, dressed in a hooded cloak and walking with a limp. They reached up to pull off the hood and-

“Tyrion?” The name was pushed out of her in a rush.

The Lannister cautiously moved closer to her on the pink marble of the pools’ terrace. “My lady, I have come to warn you-”

“Warn me? Your family would be insane to think they could come to Dorne and leave unscathed.” Tyrion pursed his lips—it was then that she noticed how bruised his face had become. Molted purple and blue skin covered half his cheek and arced over his eye. “What did she do to you?”

“Cersei has never been fond of me,” that was all he said. “I am sailing for Essos. But I needed you to understand—they know.”

“Know what? Now is not the time for riddles-”

“They know that Dorne has sided against the Crown.” His bruised face flushed with a vibrant blush she could see even in the dim light. “They are coming. And Cersei and my father are determined to hurt you.”

“They won’t make it through the Bone Way. If the Targaryens and their dragons could not conquer Dorne, a tired army from the Westerlands cannot.”

“My lady, please, listen to me. They are not coming with an army—not yet. I told you—they want to hurt you.”

“Let us help you. Oberyn can-”

“My lady?” Daisy’s voice echoed in the hall and reverberated out into the night air. “My lady?”

Y/N turned. “A moment, Daisy!” But when she turned back, Tyrion was gone.

Daisy stepped out onto the portico with a frown, lips swollen from her rendezvous with Daemon. She glanced out into the dark, looking for what Y/N had been seeing. “What is it, my lady? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Y/N cast one last glance out into the dark terrace and saw nothing. Tyrion was gone. “It must have been the wine.” She needed to speak to Doran. Now. But she refused to spoil Daisy’s happy night. News of her betrothal to Daemon had been met with joy and cheers just before the feast had begun and Y/N wanted to let her friend have as much happiness as she could.

“Prince Oberyn is looking for you.”

She nodded and let Daisy lead her back to doors of the grand hall before shooing her way. “Go. I know Daemon is waiting for you in the shadows.” The happy and embarrassed blush that bloomed on her cheeks made Y/N laugh before she skittered away, back into the arms of her love.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and smoothed her skirts. It would do no good to run in screaming that the Lannisters were coming. She had the most tenuous grasp on belonging here, in Dorne.

“Are you well, princess?” One of the servants asked, hand on the door and ready to let her in. He was young, she could tell. Probably no older than Arya.

“Not a princess just yet,” she said with a smile and trying to ignore how her heart was in her throat. “But I thank you, yes. I am still acclimating to the heat, I am afraid.” It was an easy explanation.

“Shall I fetch you some water?”

Her smile grew. “No, no thank you. What is your name?”

“Gyles, princess,” he said with a tip of his head, dark hair shorn short.

She chuckled. He seemed insistent on the honorific. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Gyles.” She turned to the other servant, not wanting to be rude. “And you? What shall I call you?”

“Ilyn, my lady.” There was a sickly sweetness to his tone and his smile a bit too wide for his face.

Something about him turned her stomach within an instant but she smiled regardless, the perfect lady. “Pleased to meet you, Ilyn.” She turned to Gyles and nodded, letting him push open the door. Y/N slipped in and quickly moved to find Doran but was swept up into a familiar embrace.

“You mustn’t slip away without a word, my moonlight. You are the guest of honor.”

She turned in Oberyn’s grasp and felt a small bit of relief at the sight of his smiling face. “My prince, I must speak to you and your brother.”

His smile faded. “What has happened?”

She shook her head, letting her hands slide across the golden brocade of his robes to grab at the leather of his belt as if that would keep her mind from spinning. “I cannot tell you here. Please, my prince, please.”

Oberyn’s lips drew into a thin line and he nodded once before grabbing her hand and leading her toward Doran.

She did not sleep.

Ellaria had to pull Y/N from Doran’s solar and put her to bed like a child when she had started to sway on her feet. But all of them, every single one of them, were so sure that the Lannisters could not touch them.

But Y/N could feel a terrible, creeping sensation engulfing her entire body. She wanted them to be right. She wanted the Lannisters to be too weak or foolhardy to actually hurt the Martells. But something in her stomach told her to be wary.

So, she sat on the edge of her featherbed and looked out the open window and into the night sky. Watched the water lap in the pools while the air smelled of the lush gardens. She hadn’t readied for bed aside from kicking off her golden sandals, staying in the blue silk dress Oberyn and Ellaria had insisted she wear tonight. They liked her in blue. “We will have all the time in the world to dress you in our colors, My Tully. For now, we shall see you in blue.”

The din of the feast eventually faded as guests retired to their chambers or fell asleep in their seats in the grand hall, bellies full of good food and drink. None of them knowing of the threat of the lions. As the dark sky started to turn pink with dawn, she heard it.

Someone was whistling.

And she knew the tune.

And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low? Only a cat of a different coat, that’s all the truth I know.

She slipped off her bed and over to the door, taking care to open it slowly to avoid the creak of the hinges.

In a coat of gold or a coat of red, a lion still has claws, and mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours.

She stepped out into the hallway and listened. There was nothing. Nothing except for the whistle.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke, that lord of Castamere, but now the rains weep o’er his hall, with no one there to hear.

Y/N followed the sound across the fortress, hearing it grow louder with every step. Her heart roared in her ears. Her knees knocked together like a newborn foal. She was not brave.

She was scared.

Yes now the rains weep o’er his hall, and not a soul to hear.

A figure slipped around the corner and she pumped her shaking legs, willing herself to go faster, to please go faster as she followed and Y/N realized with a terrible sense of dread that the only door in that hallway led to Prince Doran’s personal chambers.

A scream rang out.

Y/N pushed open the door in time to see Ilyn standing over Doran, bloody knife in hand. Trystane was huddled behind his father, sitting in a pool of blood. Doran was clutching at a gushing wound across the top of his chest, eyes hard and defiant.

Before she could even think to do something rational, Y/N ran at Ilyn and tackled him to the ground. The marble was unforgiving to her legs but she barely felt it as she struggled with the man over the knife, climbing over him in an attempt to gain the upper-hand, to keep him subdued. Her hand closed over the blade as he shoved it toward her throat and she felt it cut through her palm, tearing skin and muscle from the bone. She hadn’t even realized she was screaming until Ilyn slammed his other fist into her throat and rendered her silent for just a moment. The blow shoved her backward and off him just enough for the would-be assassin to scramble up to his feet and dart back out into the hall.

Y/N scrambled over to the Dornish princes, trying to see if they needed help but Doran waved her on, pressing a fist against his wound. “Go!” He said through gritted teeth. “Get him.”

And Y/N did as she was told. By now, the halls were filling with people—some wondering why people were screaming and others seeming to know exactly what happened.

“Stop him!” She screamed, pointing her bloody hand at the fleeing Ilyn as she continued to give chase. “Stop him!”

Ilyn heard her scream and sneered at her over his shoulder just as he made it to the entry hall.

She wouldn’t catch him. She knew it. He was too fast but she could run until her legs gave out. “Stop him! Stop him!” She continued to scream, praying someone would.

Just as Ilyn stepped into the growing sunlight, he stumbled. A choking, gurgling sound escaped him and Y/N ran to see what had stopped him. It was Oberyn—the head of his spear buried deep in Ilyn’s stomach.

Oberyn’s mouth was moving, she could see it. He was coaxing something from Ilyn even as blood dripped from his mouth and spattered against the marble floor. But all she could hear was the thump-thump-thump of her heart and the blood pumping through her veins.

Y/N jumped as Daisy grasped at her uninjured hand. The poor girl held up her hands with a shaking smile, like she was trying to help a feral cat. “My lady, I need to tend to your hand.” The words were muffled.

Y/N let Daisy lead her back into the great hall where the remnants of the feast had not yet been cleared away and slumped into the chair deemed hers the night before. She barely winced when Daisy started to clean her angry wound. She barely noticed when the maesters came in to help.

What she did notice, however, was a box placed atop her forgotten dinner plate. Her name was written on a bit of parchment in a familiar scrawl.

Her fingers shook as she reached out for it.

“Don’t, my lady,” Daisy hissed. “You don’t know what’s inside!”

But Y/N unlatched it and pushed open the lid. Her scream choked the air from her lungs.

Sitting inside the box, on a golden cushion, was the head of her father.

A/N: Welp. Please let me know what you think. :)

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @roxypeanut @lostinwonderland314 @fandomreblogsnoshame @arianawills @nyrnerosmartell @5hundreddaysofsummer @honestlystop @huliabitch @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @karmezii @thesadvampire @sarcasmisakindofmagic

#Oberyn Martell x Reader #Oberyn Martell Imagine #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand x Reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #Game of Thrones Imagine #asoiaf #game of thrones

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 2.4}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 6k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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From the moment she got up, Robin actually felt excited about detention. She didn't even care what it was she would have to do, only that it was something other than reading or studying for once. And she didn't particularly mind being around Snape for the day either, seeing as he was still the most interesting person she knew, and probably ever would know. And also kind of the only person who talked to her at this point.

Thus she made her way towards his office after having a very quick breakfast, once again dressed for a day in the cold. This time, she actually knocked.

"I see you are able to learn, after all." He commented without looking up from the pile of parchment as Robin stepped into the room. "Knocking surely is a difficult skill to master."

Robin rolled her eyes at his mocking words, but she knew better than to actually feel insulted. If he wanted to hurt her, he knew very well how to, and it would be easy for him as well.

"Do not roll your eyes at me, Miss Mitchell." He warned darkly, still without looking at her, but his tone alone was enough of a scolding to make a glare redundant indeed. "I am not your friend, and you would do well to remember that."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry..." Robin had a rush of guilt running through her in an instant, and she once more felt the wish to not upset him any further. He was the only person she even remotely liked, and the last thing she wanted was to lose the little trust and respect she had earned in the last one and a half years.

"Seeing as you would be more nuisance than help to me at the present time, you will be delivering a message to Professor Sprout for me today." He explained, and finally looked up at Robin in perfectly unimpressed indifference. Once more he waited until she nodded before he continued. "She will be in the greenhouse at this time. May I suggest for you to wear robes a little… warmer?" With that he handed her a folded piece of parchment, giving her another pointed glance, before finally looking back down to his work at last. "That would be all. Good day, Miss Mitchell."

As Robin went to retrieve her warmest robes before heading towards the greenhouse, she couldn't help feeling a little disappointed, and even worse, a little hurt indeed. Somehow, she had rather been looking forward to spending the day in the dungeons, hoping to maybe learn something new about potions, or occlumency, or anything else Professor Snape would teach her. She'd thought that maybe she could actually help him for once. But she realized now just how silly that had actually been, and most of all she felt embarrassed of herself and her own ridiculous expectations. This was just what she had asked for, after all… something to do.

With a sigh, she bit down her embarrassment and entered the greenhouse to fulfill her task. "Professor Sprout…?" She called into the open room, frowning to herself as she saw nothing but green.

"In the back, just come in, dear!" Came a loud voice calling in return, and Robin did as she was told until at last she spotted the herbology professor attending to a plant Robin had seen before, but didn't exactly know the name of.

"Good morning, professor." She greeted politely, and watched the woman work with curiosity until she remembered why she was here in the first place. "I, uh… I have a note from Professor Snape for you."

With a clearly doubtful expression, Professor Sprout turned to Robin and took the note from her, unfolding and reading it under Robin's careful observation, which actually took more time than expected. Robin couldn't help wondering what it was about, or why it obviously was quite long… she really was too curious for her own good.

"Is this a joke?" The roundly woman asked at last, looking at Robin in question and doubt.

"No! I mean, I don't know, he just asked me to deliver the note a little while ago, I don't actually know what its content is. But he seemed rather serious about its immediate delivery!" Robin replied, and the professor's face brightened up in an instant.

"Very well then! There is more than enough work to do." She said happily, before delving right back into the plant she had been busy with before. "Come on, Miss Mitchell, the plants won't take care of themselves!"

Robin frowned in irritation for a second, but then caught the gloves that were being thrown at her and joined her professor in carefully weeding and pruning the plants. After a short and essential explanation on what to cut away and what not, she felt rather confident in the task and moved on to the next set of pots on her own.

"Are you sure Professor Snape won't mind me helping you out today?" Robin finally asked after a while of pondering over the question. Well over an hour had passed since she had come to the greenhouse, and Professor Sprout didn't seem to intend letting her go any time soon. Not that Robin minded, she rather enjoyed the work, but the worry simply won't leave her mind alone. "I mean… he said I have detention today."

"You really don't know what he wrote in that note, do you?"

"Of course not! He didn't tell me, and I wouldn't ever dare to look."

"Aren't you curious?" The professor chuckled softly, and Robin felt the heat creep up her neck and onto her cheeks.

"Of course I am… But he trusted me to deliver the message without looking at it, and I wouldn't dare disappointing him." She replied honestly, but continued focusing a little too hard on the plant in front of her.

"Because you're afraid of him?"

Good question, Robin thought. Why didn't she want to disappoint him quite so desperately? Because she was afraid of him? "Certainly not." Robin replied with a scoff before she could keep her mouth shut.

"Oh?" Professor Sprout wondered out loud, and Robin could tell that she was honestly surprised. "I was under the impression that the students, especially the younger ones, are rather intimidated by him."

"Oh, they certainly are!" Robin replied quickly, careful to avoid her professor's eye. "I just mean… my wish to not disappoint him stems in a hopefully common respect rather than fear. He's the head of my house, and also the teacher of my favorite subject." As she realized what she'd said, she blushed even more. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that I don't like herbology, it's just-…"

"I understand, your passion lies with potions." There was a smile in her voice as she spoke. "No offense taken."

"Good… I really would've hated to upset you."

"You're remarkably loyal for a Slytherin, Miss Mitchell… as well as kind and thoughtful. I wonder why the hat placed you in Slytherin."

Robin sighed louder than intended upon hearing her professor's words, and the woman continued with a small laugh. "You hear that quite often, don't you?"

"Yes, actually. From teachers, classmates, myself…" Robin shrugged to herself a little, as she moved along the different types of plants. "It's like nobody wants me in Slytherin in the first place."

"Since we're having such a nice chat already, may I ask what happened to the branch of dittany I let you take a few months back?" Professor Sprout asked then, and Robin was sure that it was both out of curiosity and to change the topic to a lighter theme.

With a small smile she dropped her gardening supplies and gloves and moved over to her professor to answer the question by simply showing her. It really wasn't like her locket was a secret… more like a very private inventory. But if she ever wanted to get a chance at also preserving some other types of useful plants, she might just as well show the herbology professor what she needs the plants for. "I dried it according to a book of instructions I borrowed… and have been carrying it around since then. I happen to get myself into unfortunate situations more often than not, and properly preserved dittany can on its own work as a supplement for a healing potion. Generally, I just like to be prepared. So I find solutions to problems before they arise." She stated as she carefully removed the plant from its hiding place and handed it to the professor. Sprout frowned for a moment as she inspected Robin's work very carefully, then returned the plant to Robin who in return placed it back inside the locket.

"This is very good work, Miss Mitchell. And a very clever idea as well." She finally commented with an honest smile. "I'm sure Professor Snape was pleased with your work."

"Oh, uh… he doesn't know about it." Robin replied with yet another blush which she also tried to hide by hurriedly returning to her work on the opposite wall. "I dried it in my dorm, just to… you know… test the instructions once at least. I'm fairly sure Professor Snape wouldn't have appreciated me trying this out in the first place."

"Well, I for my part can assure you that you have quite the talent for it!" She laughed quietly to herself more than to Robin. "When we have to restock the ingredients in the potions classroom, I might just have to borrow you from Severus for a day or two to help me."

"It'd be an honor. I'll be happy to help." Robin smiled to herself as well, face red as a tomato by now from being praised like that in all honesty for once.

Robin spent all day in the greenhouse, assisting the herbology professor in everything and anything that was to be done that day. She actually ended up learning quite a bit on the side even about plants they wouldn't be addressing in class for years to come, and she loved every second of it. Reading about all those plants and their use in potions had been a great basis, but Robin had discovered throughout the day that no book could replace practical experience. And she had gotten plenty of that.

On the side of learning and working, Robin had also discovered that Professor Sprout loved to chat. In class she usually stuck to giving basic instructions and answering questions, but now that she was alone with Robin, she actually talked quite a lot about anything and everything, much to Robin's honest entertainment (and also enjoyment). There hadn't even been time to feel lonely, between getting instructions for the next task and answering questions ranging from her favorite kind of tea to the staffroom rumour about Robin being an occlumens, and she had quickly forgotten about everything that existed outside of the greenhouse.

It was only shortly before dinner that Professor Sprout finally put her work down with a sigh. "If this wasn't a productive day, I don't know what is!"

"I'm delightfully exhausted." Robin smiled as she returned her gloves to the place where she had taken them from his morning. "Today was truly lovely, thank you for letting me stay. I only hope I was more help than nuisance to you."

"Of course you were a help!" Came the immediate protest from Sprout. "Who on earth would call such a lovely young woman a nuisance?" Robin didn't reply, only bit on her bottom lip and looked down at her shoes for a moment. She really shouldn't have brought it up.

"Don't tell me Professor Snape said that to you…" The older woman groaned under her breath then, rolling her eyes and rendering Robin momentarily confused, before she spoke on. "You really shouldn't listen to everything he says, dear. He's… well, your head of house of course, but he's also –and promise me you won't tell him I said that– just a twenty-four year old idiot sometimes." Robin couldn't help but snicker at the frankness of her professor. He really was only twenty four? He seemed so much older than that… but Professor Sprout went on before Robin could dwell on it. "You know what, don't promise you won't tell him. He might as well know I said that. Might do him good to know that he isn't inerrant either."

Robin gave her professor a partially insecure and partially embarrassed half smile. "I'm afraid I couldn't promise it to you anyway. I mean, I won't tell him out of my own interest, but… I can't lie to him, professor. For multiple reasons."

"You really are more loyal than most people deserve, do you know that?"

"It's not as much about loyalty, and more about him simply reading my mind from time to time." Robin shrugged, and only then realized what she had just told the professor. The blush was back in an instant. "I mean, he only does when I ask him to! Not-not that he… would ever be that disrespectful… He-he's just way better at any of this than I am, obviously, I mean…" She tried to fix the damage she believed to have done, but Sprout only chuckled.

"Just make sure you don't forget that he's also only human, will you? With all those times he's being cold and void of emotion, it's good to keep that in mind. Not everything he says is also what he means." She gave Robin a sad but kind smile, and received a small nod in return. "It might make your life with all the other students a little easier too, to remember that they're only human."

"Thank you, professor." Robin replied with an appreciative smile. She wouldn't tell her that Snape wasn't all that emotionless if one just paid attention… nobody needed to know that, if he didn't want them to know. And Robin honestly was no expert in the field either. "People are… difficult, sometimes."

"I know, dear… it's a burden and a blessing at once to be different."

"I'm not different… Who says that?" Robin frowned, again taking on a defensive stance while her professor moved around the greenhouse to finish up with today's work.

"Professor Snape believes you to be, and I very much think he's right!" Sprout chuckled once more, and while Robin realized that it might not actually be meant as an insult, a chunk of anxiety still remained in her racing heart. The herbology professor however seemed oblivious to her concerns as she spoke on. "You have an astonishing ability to learn whatever you set out to, and that in such a high quality and in such a short time… it's remarkable! Tell me, is there any subject you're truly bad at?"

"Well, uh…" Robin actually had to think hard for an appropriate answer to that. There was so much she was bad at… just not much in regards to school. "I'm rather mediocre at transfiguration, as I don't really see the use of that in a grand scheme of things, and at astronomy… I love the stars, but I also prefer looking at a nice painting rather than painting myself, if you know what I mean. Oh, and history of magic I find dreadfully boring, even though I actually do love history, but I'm quite good at the subject nonetheless… I think." No need to mention why she was also rather mediocre at defense against the dark arts…

"That's quite amusing, wouldn't you say?"

"It is?"

"To me it is. You're good at whatever you set your heart to, and if it's challenging enough, you're quite excellent indeed!"

"Oh, uh… thank you, professor…" Robin felt uncomfortable, being praised like that, and even though it made her feel a bit proud of herself as well, she'd rather not have an adult gushing over her supposedly admirable qualities. Stuff like that only messed with one's head, and she hadn't forgotten the lesson about pride she'd received in her first year here.

"If you don't believe that you're at least somehow different, I may remind you that you preferred spending the entire day hands deep in soil with a professor instead of doing… whatever it is young people do these days. What do they do these days?"

"Uh, I… I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask, professor…" Robin's chuckle stemmed more in embarrassment than in humor, but she really didn't know what other kids were up to these days. She literally hadn't spoken to another student in almost two weeks!

"Ah, yes, that's right… nevermind then." For a moment it stayed silent, and Robin didn't know if she was supposed to leave or stay. At last, Sprout gave her another encouraging smile before speaking. "If you ever find yourself in need of something useful to do with your time again, I'd be delighted to have some help around here!"

"So… you wouldn't mind me coming back tomorrow? I'm not quite done yet, with the cutting of-..."

"I'd be happy to have you here, dear!" The older woman smiled brightly now. "We had quite the nice day chatting and working, wouldn't you say?"

"We certainly did, I'm very thankful for that."

"Don't worry about all the talking though, if you just want to come to work in some quiet, that's fine by me as well! If we continue at this rate, it'll be the first year I finish all the work before terms starts back up!" With that, she suddenly seemed to remember something, and pulled the now very wrinkled piece of parchment Robin had given to her that morning out of the deepest corners of her robes. "Here, you should read it."

"I'm not sure Professor Snape would want me to…"

"But I want you to, and if he's got a problem with that, he's welcome to tell me about it. Because I have a thing or two to tell him in return, and I'm sure he wouldn't like that at all!"

Robin took the note, and was absolutely determined that no matter how nice Professor Sprout could be, she also wasn't someone to pick a fight with. Not that Robin would've wanted to in the first place. "Thank you, professor."

"Now go on back in already, dinner will be served in a few!"

With that Robin was gently shooed out of the greenhouse and into the cold evening air. It really was freezing… and her skin hurt even more from the cold wind. After spending all day in the greenhouse, she might as well be a pillar of ice at this point, and she barely had any feeling in the hand that was still clasping the note. As she realized that, she quickly dug both hands into the pockets of her robes in a vain attempt to gain some warmth, and broke into a light jog back into the cold warmth of the castle.

And how could it have been any different, the very person she ran into right in front of the doors to the great hall was none other than Professor Snape. Robin didn't feel like talking to him at the moment… him calling her a nuisance today after saying two months ago that she wasn't a bother maybe had cut a little deeper than she would've liked.

"Miss Mitchell… I see your day in the greenhouse was quite… successful." He spoke before Robin could pretend to overlook him, and she bit back the unnecessary emotions as she turned towards him, finding him looking at the soil and dirt that had caught on her robes with a disgusted frown.

"Good evening, sir." She greeted politely, and just in case shoved the piece of parchment in her pocket a little further down. "It was indeed a small success, we finished quite a lot of work despite the cold. I probably learned more than I do in a month's worth of herbology classes."

"Good…" He mused, then raised an eyebrow in that feignedly condescending manner. "However that does not excuse your underwhelming state of dress."

Robin frowned, and looked down at the really quite dirty fabric of her robes and black jeans. Well, it could be worse… "I'm sorry, would you prefer me to change before dinner?" Her tone was just on the edge between a sincere question and sarcasm, as was her expression as she looked back up at Snape.

He of course didn't miss the subtones and glared at Robin for a second before he replied. "Don't bother." With two more muttered words from him that Robin couldn't even properly hear while standing directly in front of him, the dirt started breaking up into tiny particles before simply floating away like dust. She shot him a confused look.

"You represent the Slytherin house, and thereby also my own person. Your actions, choices and appearance should be reflective of that." He merely stated, as if it was good enough of an explanation, but seeing as Robin still looked questioning, he added in a rather harsh tone, "Would you have preferred your peers to mock you for digging in the dirt all day?"

"No…" Her reply was but a whisper, and she looked down to her feet in renewed shame. Why did he always have to be right? She hadn't even thought of what the others might say, and surely their reactions wouldn't have been all too kind if they knew Robin had willingly spent the entire day helping a professor. Children generally were too cruel to overlook something like that. Really, she should be thankful to Snape. Again. "I'm sorry, sir… I didn't mean to be such a nuisance." Aaaand it was out. Core of the problem, presented neatly on a silver plate because she just couldn't keep her mouth shut. Well done, Robin… Her cheeks heated up upon the pettiness of her own stupid feelings as much as the regret of allowing them to be voiced.

He didn't reply, but neither did he move away. After half a minute Robin felt irritated enough to look back up at him. To her surprise she wasn't met with a scowl or sheer annoyance, but with one of those oddly unreadable expressions that gave her a chill. She didn't want to be in this situation right now, didn't want to hear him say that she was indeed a nuisance, nor however that she wasn't. There had been no fault in saying that she would've been more nuisance than help, it probably was true as well, even if a bit harshly worded. But wasn't that exactly what she admired as well, his directness and honesty? The only fault here was her own. Her complete overreaction to the issue, her feeling hurt in the first place, her being childish about it. He'd told her to be better, and she would be just that right now by doing the most adult thing she could think of.

"That was inappropriate of me to say and I apologize for it." She spoke in her best game of neutrality as the giant bunch of confusing emotions finally let her lock them away behind her walls. For a little while at least. "And I thank you for making me aware of my situation as well as helping me out of it. I will see to it you shouldn't have to again." A pause of but three seconds, where Professor Snape frowned in irritation and Robin remained entirely calm as she went on. "I don't feel particularly hungry, so I will just return to the dormitories. Goodnight, professor."

As she turned around to walk off while she still could do so with some dignity, unsure if this really was the adult thing to do or an even more childish one, his voice stopped her in her movement after but two steps. "It was indeed… inappropriate to call you a nuisance in the first place, seeing as you clearly are not. You know that."

Had he really just admitted to having done something wrong? Was it too late to speak of Christmas miracles yet?? Robin turned back over her shoulder with a half smile at last, while the knowledge of the effort it clearly must've taken him to say this was already healing the bite of his previous words. "I know."

Maybe it was just her being way too forgiving, too intruding, too invested in things that were none of her business once again, but somehow she felt like 'you know that' wasn't as much about his actual statement, but everything he didn't say. Like he knew that Robin understood enough of his mysterious ways to realize that he sometimes didn't mean what he said. And she did. Whether he knew that or not.

"You might find it useful to consult the chapter on elemental alternations in this week's… private study, before returning to the greenhouse tomorrow. I believe it was on page 173…" He mused, gave Robin a pointed look, and then put on his signature scowl at last before making his (now belated) grande entrance to dinner.

Robin smiled, then frowned as she realized that she was smiling, but found herself unable to stop nonetheless. Damn, she wanted to be mad at him for once! But, of course, he wouldn't be Professor Snape if he ever let Robin have her way without an effort.

While she made her way down into the dungeons to actually return to her bedroom (the day truly had been delightfully exhausting), she couldn't resist the curiosity anymore and took advantage of everyone being at dinner to read the note meant for Professor Sprout.

Pomona.

I am certain you know Miss Mitchell, as it truly is quite impossible not to notice her in class. I would like to ask you for the favor of allowing her to assist you with your practical work for the remainder of the holidays. She has a remarkable talent for potions, and I know for a fact that she knows more about herbology than you would expect of any second or even third year student. Whatever task you find yourself willing to give to her, I assure you she will try the utmost to fulfill it to perfection, and I advise you not to underestimate her and her capabilities.

I would highly appreciate it if you could give her a challenge and an ear, seeing as I am currently hindered by paperwork and thus unable to do so myself. I intend to return the favor should the occasion arise.

Severus

Somewhere in the middle of reading the note, Robin had stopped walking and simply remained standing perfectly still right in the middle of the hallway as she read it again. This is what Snape thought of her?! Bloody hell, she really couldn't be mad at him now… But it wasn't the words of praise (which felt odd enough coming from him, seeing as he only ever scolded her), but foremost the undeniable kindness of the act itself that touched Robin deeply. She'd known he cared somehow, about all this students and their behavior, because he was the head of house and yada yada… but he actually did care, truly. That much was obvious to Robin now, at last… he had listened to her, and understood indeed. Not only her wish to do something useful with her time, but also her feeling of loneliness. Surely that was why Professor Sprout had made an effort to keep her talking today, because Snape had asked her to, and it actually had helped a great lot against the pent up loneliness. More than Robin had realized before just now. Having a task, and having someone she wasn't afraid or bored to talk to… that really had been everything she'd wanted, and that was what he'd given her. From now on, whoever dared to say that Professor Snape wasn't deep down a good person was destined to get a piece of mind from Robin.

Once she walked into her room, the first thing she did was to hide away the note, placing it with the not-really apology she had received last year and some other bits and pieces of significance in a small box she had used the same charm on as on the locket. Then she took off her robes, and grabbed her latest borrowed book from her nightstand before flipping it open to page 173. It was completely blank but for the page number. Robin frowned and flipped to the next page, where her eyes landed on the description of a spell that sounded a whole lot like what he had used to get the dirt off her clothes a short while ago. She rolled her eyes, but with a humored smile. For being her favorite professor, he really was quite insufferable.

_______________

After happily spending the remainder of her Christmas break in the greenhouse, life upon the continuation of term had gone on quite uneventfully. She'd borrowed books from Snape as always, spent a little more time on deepening her herbology knowledge, and otherwise focused on the overall bother that was other classes.

It was only in the middle of May that someone had the bright idea to do a workshop for students of all years on the art of duelling. Someone, in this instance, being Professor Morgan, but as it seemed he had found some support among certain charms and transfiguration professors as well to set the whole thing up. Most of the professors seemed to be in favor of it, actually, with Professor Snape being one of the few exceptions. Robin knew with almost complete certainty that his issue wasn't the duelling itself, but rather Professor Morgan's involvement in it. Quite frankly, she shared the very same sentiment.

Robin had kept practicing attacks and defenses ever since Christmas break, as a balance to her solely academic efforts and more out of amusement than necessity, but she had thereby gotten quite far ahead of her classmates, who up to the point of the workshop's announcement likely hadn't even known that duelling existed as a sport. This certainly gave her an advantage, but she wasn't sure if she should be all too happy about the coincidence of having a duelling workshop a few months after taking up practicing by herself. Maybe Professor Snape hadn't been the only one who had found out about her efforts after all… She hadn't exactly been subtle about it, if one considered all the times she'd been reading during meals or attacking trees on weekends. Maybe this entire thing simply was Morgan trying to get back at her for embarrassing him in front of the entire class. Or maybe she was just reading too much into it.

The workshop was set up for a Friday morning, which meant that for half of the second year students potions class would be cancelled for this sake, much to the dismay of two and the joy of twenty people. After breakfast that morning, the great hall was shortly remodeled into something that to Robin looked a great lot like a catwalk, and since classes were cancelled for everyone that day, both the entire student body and most of the staff was present and squeezed onto stands along the catwalk-thing. It really was quite the spectacle, almost like a small scale quidditch match that everybody wanted to be a witness of. While the workshop was mandatory for all year one to five students, the sixth and seventh years had been given the choice to attend if they fancied to, but as far as Robin could tell, nobody wanted to miss this event.

As she sat on a third row bench with her still closed book in her lap, she didn't actually expect too much of this thing today. Maybe a little entertainment if some of the older students went at it, but she wasn't too sure if anyone would be brave enough. Quietly, she let her eyes wander through the mixed crowd to see where all the people of (positive or negative) significance were seated. There was Professor Sprout, sitting with McGonagall on the stand directly across from Robin's, on the far left side of the rows. A bit to the right there was Theresa, who Robin actually still got along with in lessons, but never talked to outside of the classroom. Pity, really, but in the end their personalities just wouldn't quite make for a lasting friendship. A good few seats over was Alexander Downing, who surprisingly enough had stopped bothering Robin some time after the beginning of second year. Around him sat an entire clan of Slytherins, who Robin unfortunately knew, but luckily didn't have to bother with much. Most of the Ravenclaws students who had been her study buddies (until they hadn't even noticed Robin's absence since the beginning of term) were sitting to the far right, chatting among themselves and probably still gushing over Professor Morgan. Robin pulled a face involuntarily and let her eyes travel on, over some Slytherins she couldn't stand, the redhead who had escorted her to Dumbledore's office that one time… until at last they fell upon Professor Snape. He was sitting right in the middle, with some other professors, and looking quite as bored as Robin felt. The thought made her smile to herself, and when his eyes caught hers from across the room, her smile only broadened into a smirk. He rolled his eyes in return, but even from the distance Robin could see the not-smirk clearly on his face for a moment, before he set out to hide it. Good enough; her mood had brightened up quite a bit already. Seems like they both couldn't wait for some people to get their asses kicked.

A few minutes later (Robin had gone over to reading now) Professor Morgan started the workshop by giving a dull speech that Robin heard about half of, processed not more than a quarter of while she went on reading, and would remember even less from. Then he started with the first years. They still got some instructions, a bit of safe space and assistance, and then a few volunteers took turns duelling. Occasionally Robin looked up to see them awkwardly staring at each other, or she risked a look at Professor Snape to find him reading as well. Huh… she wasn't doing anything wrong by not paying attention then.

After half an hour of the pretty much constant chattering of the spectators while the first years duelled, Morgan took on the word once more, explaining how they would now move on to the second year students with less of a safety net already. Robin didn't actually care, for the people in her grade weren't all that much better than the first years anyway. Not that she believed herself to be much better at this either, but she at least wasn't stupid enough to think she would be good at it. Or insane enough to volunteer.

"Our first volunteer will be Miss Robin Mitchell! Applause, if you will!" Morgan's cheerful voice barely made its way into Robin's mind as she focused on some oddly specific detail about a healing plant being used in a poisonous potion, but once the people around her started whispering even louder and some even nudged her in the shoulder, she slowly began to register what the bloody idiot up front had said.

"I… I don't want to volunteer." She blurted out before she could think better of it, as her heart made a leap before getting a head start on her mind in terms of speed.

"Don't be shy, I know how much you enjoy a good fight." The professor grinned at her with a mocking friendliness, and Robin recognized that she'd lost this round. The fight however was just getting started.

______________________________

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deancas-fanfiction · 4 years ago

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Hardest Part is Letting Go

Part 1/7

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Summary: Upon his diagnosis of a terminal illness, Dean vows to spend the rest of his short life with Cas by his side, completing his bucket list while learning what it really means to live and love.

Also available on ao3.

Dean had never been a romantic – that was always Cas and his extravagant date planning. It was incredibly endearing, but Dean just wasn’t one of those people that cared about that kind of stuff. He loved it because Cas loved it. Funny how a terminal illness can change someone.

It was one year earlier, just after Dean’s thirtieth birthday. Recently he hadn’t been feeling well. His energy level was low, and the sweeping waves of nausea became all too familiar. While low energy wasn’t exactly uncommon for him, this was different. Dean barely had the energy to get out of bed. At first, Cas assumed it was some kind of flu, so they spent day in bed watching old western movies and eating soup. It was a few days later when Dean realized something wasn’t quite right. Along with the loss of energy, came the loss of appetite, and consistent headaches. Dean hid it well, though. After all, he didn’t want to worry Cas or Sam. So he pretended everything was fine for the next few weeks and almost convinced himself he was starting to feel better. He thought that with time it would eventually go away. However, it ws quite the contrary.

One morning Dean awoke at his worst with a sharp, hot pain in his head; it was by far the most excruciating thing he has ever experienced. Biting down on his pillow, he screamed. He screamed until his voice was hoarse, just trying to release some of the pressure in his head. His nails dug into the blankets, begging for the pain to end. Soon darkness took over his vision and he drifted into blissful unconsciousness, away from the pain.

The next time Dean woke up he was in a hospital, with an IV hooked to his right arm and an oxygen tube in his nose. The fluorescent lights were harsh, highlighting the deep bags under his eyes. At least the pain in his head had subdued. His vision became sharper as the flog from the drugs cleared. Dean looked around the room, noting the ‘get well soon’ balloons and cards that littered the room. To his left was a card with a scrawl so ineligible it could only be identified as Sam’s attempt at handwriting. But the thing that caught his attention was Cas, sitting in this stiff chair next to his bed, his head resting on his hands.

Dean shot up, suddenly alarmed as he remembered the events that led to him being here. He sat up, pulling at the IV, panic rising in his chest. His hate for hospitals was heightened and all he could focus on was getting out of here. But then Cas’s head shot up to the sounds of Dean rustling in bed. He scooted his chair closer to the bed, resting his hand on Dean’s.

Dean frowned as he observed his boyfriend’s face. His nose was runny, and his eyes were pink and swollen. He had been crying. It was enough to stop Dean’s frantic movements as his heart rate increased. Cas very rarely cries, and when he does it’s for good reason. Cas ignored Dean’s questioning look. With light touches, he brushed Dean’s matted hair out of his face. It was comforting, but if anything, it just worried Dean more.

An advanced terminal illness. That’s what the test results said.

Those four words ruined Dean and Cas’s life. Those four words unraveled years of plans the two had previously made, imagining they had all of the time in the world. Now he was told he would have two years if he was lucky. Dean’s doctors offered aggressive treatment to prolong the inevitable, but he denied it. He knows what that treatment does to patients. They’re violently ill, bed ridden, and spend most of their time imprisoned in hospitals. Dean wanted to spend the rest of his short life as himself, with Cas by his side.

It wasn’t something to easily become accustomed to. Cas was in denial in the beginning. He went about life as if nothing has changed, but at night he would hold onto Dean extra tight, with no intention of letting go. It went on like this for a few weeks, until Dean came home from visiting Sam for the weekend to find Cas sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing. Dean dropped his duffel bag and wrapped his arms around Cas. He held him close, kissing the top of his head, burying his nose into his boyfriend’s dark hair, memorizing his scent. His hand rubbed small circles on Cas’s back, knowing it comforts him. He nearly let out a humorless laugh at the thought that he was the one dying, but also the one doing the comforting. It was then that he realized Cas is the only that has to live without him. If it was Cas dying, Dean knew he’d be completely broken too.

After they both released the emotions they had been repressing, they actually felt a little better. Now that they accepted the inevitable, they could live each day to the fullest. Without further discussion, Dean and Cas quit their respective jobs to focus on living life in the now. Besides, that’s what emergency savings are for, right?

This brings Dean to where he is now. Sitting in the living room at three in the morning with a glass of bourbon, paper, and a pen. He could feel his health slowly deteriorating and he knew he was running out of time. Dean estimated he had about six months remaining. At night he’d close his eyes and be met with the image of a clock. It would start with the seconds slowly ticking by and then morph into something sinister. Suddenly it was a calendar, with pages tearing away and flying off until there was nothing left but blackness and silence. There was nothingness. He’d wake in a cold sweat, with the constant reminder of the inevitable looming over his head. Dean shook his head, shaking the dark thoughts. He took a sip of his drink before focusing back on the task at hand.

1. Have breakfast in bed

2. Stargaze until the sun rises

3. Kiss in the rain

4. Rent a beach house for the weekend

5. Watch Sam graduate from law school

6. Go on a road trip with a kickass playlist

7. Get married

8. Go skinny dipping

9. Die loved

Dean hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear his list, smudging some of his handwriting. There was still so much he wanted to do, so much more he wanted to see but deep down he knew he didn’t have the time for it. Hell, he didn’t=’t even know if he had time for his list. But he was going to try. He looked back at a few items on the list and managed a small smile, so much for not being a romantic.

Dean looked up when he heard some shuffling and the opening of a door. His eyes met a sleepy Cas, with his blue eyes bleary and hair ruffled more than usual. It was a sight he could never get sick of.

“Can’t sleep?” Cas asked quietly. Dean hummed in response, struggling to get his emotions in check. He hated this vulnerability that came with the diagnosis. Making this list made him even more emotional and he knew that crying in front of Cas would only make things harder.

“Me neither,” Cas sighed, joining Dean on the couch. He leaned into his side, curling in to soak in his body heat. “I can never sleep very long without you next to me.”

Dean smiled at that and kissed Cas on the temple. Cas sighed contentedly before frowning when he saw the list in Dean’s hand. “Is that your bucket list?”

“Yeah, I figured since we have some time, we should make the most of it, you know? And there’s a lot of things I’ll never get the chance to do, so I thought I’d make a list of the ones most important to me.”

Cas gingerly grabbed the list out of his hand and read through it, a sad smile on his face. “No backpacking across Europe?”

“I don’t think there’s time for a trip to Europe,” Dean mumbled. He and Cas had dreamed of backpacking across Europe since they were in college. They talked of romantic stops in Italy for the food, France for the champagne, Ireland for the Guinness and beautiful countryside, Scotland for the scotch, and so much more. Cas just nodded in response, swallowing the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to think about the concept of time at the moment.

“What do you want to do first?” Cas asked, his voice cracking.

“Right now, all I want to do is go to bed with you.”

“Alright, then let’s go to bed,” He replied, grabbing Dean’s hand and leading him into the bedroom with a sly smile on his face.

The next morning Dean awoke with another headache. He wasn’t surprised, it’s been happening a lot more often lately. He sat up and reached for the numerous pill bottles on the table next to the bed and took the numerous pills prescribed to him by his doctors to keep his symptoms under control. Forcing his legs out from under the warmth of the blankets, Dean got up to go see what Cas was doing. While Dean has always slept later than Cas, he usually lays in bed with him reading a book while waiting for Dean to wake. After all, Cas knows how much Dean hates waking up alone.

Just as Dean was crossing the door, he was met with Cas carrying a tray full of chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, a heaping pile of bacon and his usual cup of coffee.

“Cas…” Dean started, realizing what he was doing.

“Dean! You ruined it. To have breakfast in bed, you actually need to be in bed.” He pouted which caused Dean to laugh at his boyfriend. He quickly turned around and crawled back into their bed.

“We don’t have to do everything on the list right away, angel.” He retorted, pulling the warm blankets on his lap. His voice came across softer than the joking manner he intended. His gratefulness for Cas shone through his usual sarcastic façade. Cas chose to ignore the comment and set the tray on the middle of the bed, settling next to him. “But thank you,” Dean added, giving Cas a kiss on the lips.

Cas smiled, his blue eyes impossibly bright in the early afternoon light. Dean sighed, staring as he admired Cas’s beauty. His dark hair is tousled, sticking in all directions accompanied with the stubble that comes from not shaving for a few days. He’s dressed in one of Dean’s classic rock shirts and a pair of boxers, with the smell of coffee lingering on his breath. Dean smiles at him, bacon momentarily forgotten, only consumed by thoughts of Cas. When things get bad, he wants to remember this specific moment and how happy the two of them are. ‘When things get bad…’ Dean ended that train of thought and shook himself out of his daze, turning his attention to his delicious breakfast instead.

________

A/N: Hi friends! I’m so excited to post my first Dean/Cas fanfic! I’ve written for other fandoms before but I just can’t shake the finale so here’s my coping mechanism. This fic is finished, totaling at about 15,000 words. I plan to post either weekly or twice a week, depending on the reception this gets. Please let me know any feedback or submit any prompts!

#destiel #fanfiction #deancas #supernatural fanfiction #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #angst #fluff #eventual character death #dean knows how to communicate his feelings for once #dean winchester #castiel #alternate universe #chaptered

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thefanficdude · 3 years ago

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The Winter Months: OCTOBER, Part 2

“Tommy, have you found anything yet?” Niki and Tommy were out in the forest looking for any extra food they could get their hands on. So far, Niki had found a small handful of walnuts, but that was it.

“The fuck do you think!?” Tommy snapped, turning to look at her with anger in his eyes. Niki wasn’t mad or upset because of Tommy’s sudden rage. Not only was it normal for him, but Niki felt the same. The frustration of the coming season had everyone in a swing of emotions. Tommy turned back around. “At this rate, we’ll run out of food before the end of winter.” Niki put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and made him face her.

“Hey, don’t say that! We’re gonna make it through the season, just like we have every other year before this.” Tommy slightly moved his shoulder, but it was enough of a gesture to make Niki release her grip.

“Every other winter, we’ve barely made it to spring with the regular rations! Now, winter’s gonna be longer and we can’t find anything!” Tommy threw his arms up in frustration. Niki couldn’t find anything to argue back with. Tommy got the last word.

“Let’s search for 30 more minutes then,” Niki said with a sigh. “And then we’ll call it a day.”

“No,” Tommy responded. “As hopeless and worthless as our search has been so far, I can’t go back until I have something that won’t make us starve. Wilbur gave me a job, and I’m not going to disappoint him.” Stubbornness and determination; Tommy’s greatest strengths. “So if you want to go back in 30 minutes, go ahead. But I’m staying out here.” He turned around to continue looking for something, anything. Niki continued as well with a smile on her face.

“Sometimes I don’t think you realize how inspiring you can be, Tommy,” Niki said. Tommy scoffed.

“Of course I know, it’s why I’m so fucking awesome.” Niki laughed, and Tommy smiled.

“We haven’t checked the North forest yet,” Tommy said. “We should start heading in that direction.”

“Good idea,” Niki replied.

~~~

“How many samples did you find that we can test?”

“Uhh… 4, but that’s not counting possible combinations between them.”

“Perfect. We’ll set up the tests immediately.”

Eret and Tubbo were busy inside the greenhouse trying to come up with ways to make their plants grow quicker and stronger. This would’ve been an exciting and adventurous feat if it weren’t for the fact they only had 5 days until the snow came. If they failed, the whole village would starve. There was no room for errors or do-overs.

“To speed things up a little bit, I suggest we use plants that have only just sprouted instead of brand new seeds,” Eret said, going to a pot with a few sprouts in it. “And we also need to make sure all the plants are the same to avoid different growing rates which would give us wrong information about the soil.”

“So what’s your plan?” Tubbo asked. Eret crouched to look under a table in which there were 4 giant containers of dirt.

“We get all the samples, plus the different combinations each in their own small pot.” Eret came back up from the table with a stack of pots engulfed in a cautious embrace. “Then, we plant 1 sprout in each pot. From there, we observe and make a decision based on our research.” She set down the pots on a clear table in the middle of the greenhouse and split the pile in two, giving one to Tubbo. They each began setting out all the pots across the table.

“Seems good enough,” Tubbo said. “But we only have 5 days. How are we supposed to find the right soil and also re-pot all the plants in time?”

“As crazy as it sounds,” Eret began. “We’re counting on soil that will make the plants grow in 1 to 2 nights in the same way it would in weeks.”

“But that’s impossible!” Tubbo pointed out. “At that point, we would need to rely on-”

“Magic?” Eret finished. Tubbo gave them a questioning look. “Tubbo, how do you think we’re able to control earth or manipulate light?”

“Our abilities?” Tubbo said in a patronizing tone, not fully understanding what Eret was getting at.

“And do you not think our abilities would be considered magic to people without an ability?” Tubbo thought about that for a moment.

“I guess you’re right…” Tubbo said. “But even if our abilities were magic, we still have our limits. Not everything is possible.” Eret sighed.

“Look,” He said. “We at least need to try, because if we don’t we won’t have anything to eat next summer. And even though the circumstances are brutal enough, I think with some hard work we can allow these plants to make some extra food during winter.”

“Don’t you hear yourself?” Tubbo asked. “This is all hopeless wishing. It’ll never work!” Eret put a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder and lowered his voice to a serious tone.

“Tubbo, you need to understand… if we don’t try at all or don’t try with a little bit of hope, everyone will starve. Maybe even die.” Tubbo was clinging to every word, but it wasn’t the words he wanted to hear. Then again, he didn’t want Eret to say he was right either. He wasn’t sure what he needed to hear. “So please, promise me you’ll do this with me with even the smallest bit of hope. Even if it is, as you said, just hopeless wishing.” Tubbo stared at Eret, processing what he’d just said. Eventually, he nodded. Eret nodded back.

“So what do I do first?” Tubbo asked.

“Put all the different soils into the pots and I’ll label them,” Eret said, making his way to a corner of the greenhouse where he got paper and a pen.

“Got it,” Tubbo said. He went to the table with the four giant containers of dirt and looked at them. “You should probably label these ones first so that there's no confusion.” Eret came over to where Tubbo was.

“Yeah. I’ll just label them 1, 2, 3, and 4. Any combination of them would just be labelled which numbers it consists of.” Eret started ripping small bits of paper and sticking them on with glue he made herself with tree sap.

“Makes sense,” Tubbo said. “And I’ll put just the four dirts in their own small pots first.” Tubbo raised his hands and took a breath. Dirt from the pots started floating up into the air, slowly moving across the greenhouse and into their intended pots. Eret watched as he made more labels. Tubbo began to smile. “Oh my god, this is going really well.” Eret nodded.

“Yeah! You’re getting a lot better with your ability. Just remember to focus and stay-”

Somebody knocked on the door of the greenhouse and suddenly all the dirt fell onto the floor.

“-calm…” Eret finished. Tubbo dropped his arms and gave a disappointed sigh. Eret patted him on the shoulder as she made his way to the door. “You’ll get it soon, don’t worry.” Eret opened the door to see Wilbur. “Wilbur!” Eret exclaimed. “Glad to see you! Have you come to check up on our progress?” Tubbo came to the door to listen in.

“No,” Wilbur said. “I doubt it’s been long enough for you guys to have made noteworthy progress.”

“You’d be surprised,” Eret said. “Tubbo here has been practicing with his ability and I think he’s almost ready to get some combat training!” Tubbo smiled but shook his head humbly.

Combat training wasn’t an immediate thing people were forced to do. They needed to have a good handle on their ability first. As much as he denied it, Tubbo was indeed almost there.

“That’s amazing to hear!” Wilbur said. “But no, I’ve come to ask a question.”

“Ask away,” Eret said. Wilbur sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Have… either of you seen George today?” Both Eret and Tubbo became confused.

“Uh…” Eret and Tubbo looked at each other, but both of them were lost. “No, I don’t believe so. Why? Is he missing?” Wilbur shook his head.

“No, I was just wondering.” Wilbur shifted his feet. “That’s all. Continue what you were doing.” He started walking away.

“Bye!” Eret and Tubbo said at the same time, waving goodbye. Eret closed the door and looked at Tubbo.

“George wasn’t at the meeting today, right?” Tubbo asked.

“Yeah, Wilbur said he and Phil were going to stop by his house.”

“Weird. I wonder what happened?”

~~~

Wilbur was sitting on the couch in his house, his elbows resting on his knees with a fist covering his mouth. Phil was sitting beside him in utter shock and confusion. After all, one of their people had gone missing, and there were only 2 possible things he could’ve done or gone to. Neither of them were good.

“We need to tell everyone,” Wilbur said. “Because if George has done what I think he’s done, we’re not going to be struggling with the winter alone.”

“We can’t though,” Phil said. “We don’t have any solid proof. For all we know, he could’ve just gone berry picking.”

“In October?” Wilbur asked. “Phil, he put pillows under his sheets to make it look like he was still here! And if he went berry picking, how come nobody’s seen him today?”

“Niki and Tommy are in the forest right now, right?” Phil pointed out. “Once they come back, we’ll ask them if they’ve seen George. I’m sure they’ll say yes.” Wilbur looked Phil in the eyes.

“And if they don’t?” A silence fell as they held eye contact. Phil was trying to get onto Wilbur’s level while Wilbur was searching through Phil’s brain.

“I wouldn’t be so worried if I were you.”

Try to make him feel better.

“You can’t lie to me, Phil,” Wilbur said, tapping his temple with his finger. “Remember?” Phil sighed.

“Yes, I remember,” Phil said. “I was hoping you weren’t using it.”

“Well I was, and I caught your people-pleasing attitude in action.” Wilbur leaned back on the couch. “Tell the truth this time please.”

“Fine,” Phil agreed. “Here’s the truth: everything about this screams bad news. As soon as you took the sheets off his bed, I sent one of my ravens to check Dream’s base to see if he was there.”

“Any news?”

“Not yet. That’s why I was trying to convince you everything was going to be fine. I didn’t want you to worry too much if it’s nothing.” Wilbur sighed.

“Thank you… but you shouldn’t have sent a bird without asking me first, or at the very least let me know.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil apologized with a sigh. “But I knew it was the right thing to do, from both a leading and parenting standpoint.”

“But didn’t you retire early so that I could lead?” Wilbur asked. “You no longer have that title. I expected that you would treat me with due respect.” Phil stood from the couch.

“I stepped down so that I could teach you how to lead instead of having to figure it all out for yourself.” Phil’s feathers ruffled. “And don’t you dare speak to me of respect. I am still your father, therefore you are the one who owes me respect.” Wilbur stood as well, staring Phil down.

“Maybe it would’ve been better for me to figure it out myself,” Wilbur said with a whisper. He regretted saying it right after. However, taking responsibility and saying sorry was never an easy thing to do, and that’s something everyone can agree on. Unfortunately, Wilbur would never know that one sentence broke Phil’s heart into a million grains of sand. Wilbur could’ve easily read Phil’s mind at that moment, but he didn’t want to witness the pain he’d caused. Phil felt like crying, bawling, and screaming simultaneously, but held it together. After a moment of silence between them, Phil broke eye contact and started heading towards the door.

“We’ll discuss this later,” He said. “But right now, we have worse things to worry about. Wilbur stayed in the house as he watched Phil walk out of his house. As soon as his father was out of his sight, he collapsed onto the couch with a heavy breath. Wilbur was used to dealing with heated situations and arguments, but the same thing with a parent drains more than normal.

I should apologize, Wilbur thought, but the idea of it made him cringe. As I said earlier, taking responsibility is never easy, even if it's the right thing to do.

It was very rare that Wilbur and Phil ever argued or fought, but when they did it always ended in heartbreak and tears, in which they would apologize to each other soon after. Wilbur expected this time to be the same, because why would it be any different?

“Will!” He suddenly heard his name being called outside by none other than Phil. Wilbur got up from the couch and went to his door. Phil was standing a few feet away with a raven in one hand and a letter with red wax in the other. He was reading it carefully. Wilbur walked towards him.

“What’s that?” Wilbur asked. Phil looked up at him.

“You were right.”

#dreamsmp #dsmp #dreamsmpfanfic #dsmpfanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fantasy #action

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jaylos · 4 years ago

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descendancts gift exchange 2020

@descendantsgiftexchange

i’m so glad i made it within the deadline hehe (not in my timezone but shh..)

i apologize for the wait but here it is! @moorsgrimhilde i’m your gift giver and i chose to write a oneshot for umaudrey :) i hope you like it as much as i liked writing it and i hope you’re having a good time this winter <3

it has about 3700 words and the plot goes a little something like this: Uma has never skied before and Audrey helps her, but it doesn’t go so well! And then they have to take shelter from the cold, oh no! What will happen?? Probably romance!

here it is on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439811

and here it is under the cut for those who prefer to read on tumblr:

When Ben invited all his friends on a winter vacation in the mountains of Arendelle, Uma was not that exited, but she was not going to sit around in her dorm room by herself, so she decided to join them.

However, when she was standing on skiis with shaky legs looking down the slope, she really regretted that decision.

She didn't have to get onto the ski lift and come all the way up here, but Mal had insinuated that she was too scared, so she really didn't have a choice, did she?

So, she was standing there, gripping her ski poles tightly, while Mal had stayed behind way further down the mountain on a beginner's slope.

“Do you need help?” asked a voice next to her, and she turned her head to find Audrey looking at her with a reserved smile and her eyebrows drawn together ever so slightly.

Uma's first instinct was to decline. She was, after all, not one to accept help easily.

There was also the fact that Audrey looked so regal in her coordinated soft pink wintersports outfit with faux fur and lots of tiny white pompoms, which was a stark contrast to Uma's borrowed and mismatched clothes.

Admittedly, she was less worried about their clothes and more about not wanting to look like a fool in front of Audrey.

But the clothes didn't help.

Another reason why Uma came along on this trip, though, was Audrey, who had also been invited. She felt drawn to the princess - of all people – but had never quite found the opportunity to get to know her better.

A situation where Uma felt more in control would have been nice, but this was her chance.

So she tried to be nice.

“You think you can help me?” she asked, although it came out a little more harshly than she intended.

Audrey blinked, picking up on Uma's reluctance, but smiled through it. “My family goes skiing, like, all the time. I'm pretty good at it.”

Uma hesitated. She was still not quite used to people offering help out of the kindness of their hearts, and doubts were always gnawing at the back of her mind.

It seemed she took a second too long to respond.

Audrey's smile took on something that Uma would almost call mischievous. “Don't you want to see Mal's face when you make it to the bottom in one piece?”

Uma cringed inwardly, because Audrey had apparently not only overheard Mal's teasing but also seen right through her.

However, a smirk formed on Uma's face, because Audrey was speaking a language they both understood.

Audrey instructed Uma how to position her feet, how to balance her weight on the skiis and how to slow down so she would make it down the mountain safely.

Uma did fall on her butt a few times and she was embarrassed, but Audrey offered her hand, and her laugh was one of the sweetest sounds of Auradon.

Slowly but steadily they made headway, and Uma was starting to get the hang of it, but they had reached a part of the slope that was much steeper than the rest, and Uma looked down nervously.

Audrey came to a halt next to her. “You're doing really well for your first time!”

A part of Uma wanted to question her sincerity. Did she have hidden motives? What did she have to gain by being so nice?

In Remedial Goodness 101, they had learned about kindness for kindess' sake, but it was all still a bit confusing to Uma. Especially since she had heard some not-so-kind things about Audrey.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why she found Audrey interesting, as opposed to most other Auradonians.

The sky had been clear when they went up the mountain, but in the time it had taken them to get down little by little, grey clouds had started to gather.

Uma knew she had no time to waste and no choice but to keep going right away.

She took a deep breath. “Let's do this.”

She began her descent with all the confidence she could muster, but it vanished again in a split-second, when she lost control and started barrelling down the slope.

In the distance, Audrey called out to her, but her voice was drowned out by the wind in Uma's ears.

In an attempt to brake Uma steered to one side as best as she could. She was not going straight down, at least, but now she was speeding towards the edge of the slope and only managed to dodge a tree by a hair.

The snow was significantly deeper here, so she became a bit slower right before her skiis got stuck and she flew face first into a heap of snow.

She took a moment to recover from the shock and catch her breath. When she got up, relieved that she was still in one piece, she could hear Audrey calling her name as she hurried into the woods after her.

Uma patted down her clothes to rid herself of the snow. “I'm here!” she called.

“Are you okay?” Audrey asked as soon as she reached her. “Are you hurt?”

The worry in Audrey's voice was a small comfort to Uma. At least she was not going to mock her for making a fool out of herself.

“I'm fine,” she reassured her.

“..Do you think you can keep going?” Audrey asked, but seemed reluctant to even suggest it.

Uma sighed. “Do I have a choice?”

To her surprise, Audrey did offer another option. “Well.. I know a place where we could take a break. It's a short walk from here.” She looked around a bit and added, “I think.”

Uma did not have to be asked twice. “Lead the way.” She knew that she had to go down the rest of the way eventually, but she was grateful for any excuse to put it off for the moment.

They slowly trudged through the deep snow for a while, their ski boots making it even harder to move forward. On top of that, the wind picked up considerably, swirling up the snow around them.

As much as Uma hated this troublesome, freezing trek, she probably would have hated skiing the rest of the way in this weather even more.

Uma didn't notice the small building in front of them until she almost bumped into Audrey.

“We're here!” Audrey yelled over the wind and proceeded to take the few wooden steps leading up the the porch, where she dropped her skiis with a huff.

It was a lodge in the middle of the forest, but Uma didn't waste much time looking at it before dumping her skiis with Audrey's and quickly following her inside.

They were both out of breath. and it took Uma a few moments before she could get out words.

“How'd you know about this?”

“It's my family's.” Audrey took off her jacket and shook the snow off of it. “We used to come here all the time when I was little, but nobody's been here ever since my parents bought a new one.”

Uma let her eyes wander around the room. There was a big couch with a matching recliner and a fireplace with a fluffy fur rug in front of it. On one side there was a small kitchen unit, and the floor, walls and high ceiling were all made of wood. Everything seemed quite dusty, but charming nonetheless. How wasteful it was to just abandon a place like this.

“Are you getting service?” Audrey asked, pulling Uma out of her thoughts.

Uma turned to her as she was holding up her phone - to no avail, judging by the disgruntled look on her face.

“I don't even have a phone,” she replied matter-of-factly.

That made Audrey stop and look at her for a moment. “Well,” she began, “if we're lucky, somebody notices that we're missing.”

The sarcastic undertone in her voice did not escape Uma. “You're a princess. They're probably already looking for you.”

“Sure,” Audrey replied, but did not sound convinced.

Uma drew her eyebrows together slightly. There was something up, but she decided not to pry, at least for now. There were more pressing matters at hand.

“Let's just make a fire. We're gonna be here for a while either way,” she said.

“It's an old fireplace. It doesn't have a switch!” Audrey said, visibly distressed, as though she was making sense. “We're probably gonna freeze to death!”

Uma shook her head lightly, albeit with a small smile on her face. “Relax, princess. Making a fire is not that hard. Just see if you can find matches around here somewhere.”

Audrey did as asked while Uma took some firewood from the pile next to the fireplace and put it inside.

They did manage to get a fire going with little difficulty, which seemed to put Audrey at ease, and they waited a bit for it to grow bigger before they peeled of their outer layers.

Audrey dug out blankets from somewhere and they got cozy on the fur rug in front of the fireplace.

This was definitely the most comfortable shelter Uma had ever been in.

The two of them sat in silence for a while, only the fire was crackling and the wind was howling over the roof.

“I've never seen this much snow. Like, at all,” Uma said as she looked out the window. There wasn't much to see except white nothingness. It was not that strange to Uma, though, to feel cut off from the rest of the world.

Audrey followed her gaze, scrunching up her face a bit at the sight. “Was there no snow on the Isle?”

“There wasn't much weather at all,” Uma replied with a shrug. “Honestly, I prefer that over this.”

“You know what would make this a lot more bearable? Hot chocolate,” Audrey said and huffed.

The way her lips were drawn into a pout reminded Uma of the fact that she was still a spoiled princess.

“Is this, like, you worst winter vacation ever?” Uma teased.

Audrey averted her gaze, and for a moment Uma feared that she had upset her, but she looked up again. “Well, I guess it was pretty fun befor-”

“Before I almost died,” Uma finished with a smirk. She sighed. “It's all my fault. I just had to prove Mal wrong.”

“Right, so it's actually her fault! Again! What a shocker,” Audrey said.

Uma snorted. She still had a light smile one her face when she contemplated for a moment. “Nah,” she said, “Harry made chicken noises at me too.”

She really had no-one to blame but herself. Nobody made her do anything.

Uma turned her head to look at Audrey, although their eyes did not quite meet.

“Are you still holding a grudge?”

Still with a sarcastic undertone, Audrey replied, “What, just because she stole my boyfriend and is gonna be queen instead of me and always hogs all the attention?”

They looked at each other for one quiet second before they broke out into laughter.

When they calmed down, Audrey continued, “I'm over it. I mean, being queen would've been nice but honestly I'm kind of relieved that I don't have to spend my life with.. someone I don't really love.”

“Then why did you start dating him?” Uma asked.

Audrey gave a half-hearted shrug. “It just made sense. I was always expected to marry a prince, so why not take the most influential one there is?” She paused. “And Ben and I grew up together, so I already knew he was a good person.”

Uma could only shake her head at the absurdity of it. “I literally grew up on an island prison but I gotta say, that sounds like you didn't have much freedom either.”

Audrey's chuckle was bittersweet, but it helped her let go of a bit of the tension her memories had brought her.

“So,” Uma said with a sigh, “what are we gonna do now that we're both free?” Her choice of words was deliberate. She was up for spending more time with Audrey, whatever they were doing.

“Oh, I'm on top of my schedule,” Audrey replied, faking enthusiasm. “Being a huge disappointment to my family?” She made a check mark in the air with a flick of her wrist. “Check.”

Uma laughed. “Tell me about it.”

With a soft smile, Audrey inclined her head. “What about you?”

Uma pretended to think for a moment. “Absolutely no idea.” She was pondering how much she wanted to open up to Audrey. There was a feeling of mutual understanding between them, even though they could not be more different. “The Isle was awful in many ways, but at least I knew my place there. Here I'm.. a fish out of water.” She lowered her gaze. “And I had my crew, but they're all doing their own thing now. And that's great for them an all... but I'm just not used to it.” She let out a soft chuckle. “I never expected Gil to travel Auradon one day.”

He had always seemed pretty content where he was.

Audrey opened her mouth, but she took a second longer to decide if she wanted to speak or not. “Why don't we do that?”

Uma blinked at her. “What, travel Auradon?”

“Yeah,” Audrey replied and tried to rein in her excitement about her own suggestion. “I mean, nothing's keeping me in Auradon City.”

“Haven't you been everywhere already?”

“Pretty much. But I bet it'd be fun to go there again.. with you,” Audrey said and looked at her with big eyes, nervously awaiting her response.

Uma pressed her lips together to keep her smile from growing too wide.

Their eyes met.

“Sure,” Uma responded, “but let's say Arendelle was our first stop. I think I've seen all I need to see here.”

Audrey chuckled softly and Uma basked in the sweet sound of it.

“You know,” Uma began, “when I came here I didn't think we would get along, but you're cool.” She nodded with approval. When she spoke on her voice was more soft. “I had fun hanging out with you today. Even this,” she gestured into the room, “is not so bad.”

Audrey gave her a bashful smile and was unable to hold eye contact, which Uma took as a good sign. It felt like quite the accomplishment to make the beautiful princess flustered.

Audrey leaned a bit closer as though she was about to tell a secret. In a low voice she said, “I thought you were intimidating.”

“Thanks, I try,” Uma replied with a smirk.

More soflty, Audrey then said, “I had fun with you too.”

For a moment or two, they just looked at each other.

Uma's mind was racing, thinking about how many unexpected turns her life had taken so that she ended up here. Never in a milion years would she have imagined that she would find a companion in an Auradonian, let alone a princess.

She had been curious about Audrey ever since she read her diary – which she would not do again, of course – but she didn't think that there would become more of it than a ridiculous fantasy.

“Oh, but the first thing we're gonna do when we get out of here is get you a phone,” Audrey said, snapping Uma back to reality.

“Do I need one?” she asked.

Audrey tilted her head as though the answer was obvious. “Of course! How else are you supposed to respond to my texts and like my selfies?”

Uma wrinkled her forehead. “..I could just tell you in person?”

Audrey smiled solfty at her. “That's sweet, but it's not the same.”

They were talking about all sorts of things, about their lives growing up, about Auradon, about their friends. Not too much about their parents and their expectations, though. They decided that was too much of a bummer.

Audrey kept thinking of more things she wanted to show Uma, more ways to share her world with her, and Uma had soon forgotten that there was a snow storm raging outside. She wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere else.

There was a lull in the conversation. Not an unpleasant silence, though.

They had moved closer together without even noticing, even though the warmth from the fire had already spread around the room.

“Can I ask you a question?” Audrey's voice was quiet, so as not to disturb the peace.

Uma turned to look at her to find her watching the fire pensively.

“Shoot.”

“On the Isle... do people believe in true love?”

Uma shrugged. “Some might, but if they do they don't say it. It's pretty frowned upon.”

Audrey finally tore her gaze away from the fire. “Why?”

“It makes you vulnerable. On the Isle you can't – couldn't – afford that,” Uma replied. She herself had believed that too, although she had her doubts ever since she had found her crew. Caring for them was what had made her strong, after all. “Why are you asking?”

“We grew up very differently. I'm just curious about someone else's perspective.” Audrey's eyes were jumping between different spots on Uma's face, as though she would learn more by looking closely.

“Do you believe in true love?” Uma asked with a nonchalance that sounded fake even in her own ears.

“I guess so,” Audrey replied, not trying to hide her uncertainty. “I mean, it's what I grew up to believe in.” She paused, and her expression turned almost apologetic. “I would like it to be true, but I've certainly had no luck finding it.”

“That sounds like way too much pressure,” Uma said.

Audrey let out a chuckle. “Yeah. I probably would've stayed with Ben just so I wouldn't have to deal with it.”

A smirk formed on Uma's face. “Then maybe Mal did you a favor.”

With a soft laugh Audrey shook her head lightly, followed by a sigh. “I think Ben's heart wasn't in it either. It was probably only a matter of time anyway,” she said with a wistful smile.

Uma gave her a sympathetic look. “You people take this true love stuff way too seriously.” Her voice lacked the usual contempt she had for nonsensical Auradonian conventions. It wasn't Audrey's fault that she thought there was only one way to love.

Their eyes met, and Uma wasn't sure if Audrey had come closer again.

“You're probably right.. But what else am I supposed to do?”, Audrey asked in a soft voice, as though she already knew the answer but didn't dare to say it.

“Just have fun,” Uma replied and leaned in a bit. “You don't always have to know where it's going.”

Uma certainly didn't. Everything she did ever since the barrier was opened meant going into uncharted waters.

They were only inches apart now, looking into each other's eyes inently.

“What would people think?”, Audrey asked, her voice not much more than a whisper.

Uma didn't want to burden herself with trying to unpack all that this question entailed, at least not now. This moment was just for them, not for anyone else to scrutinize.

“That's their problem.”

This must have been exactly what Audrey wanted to hear, because a light smile formed on her lips. And to Uma's surprise, Audrey was the one who closed the gap between them.

When Audrey's soft lips touched hers, Uma curled her fingers into her blanket, else she might have floated away.

She stayed still and waited for Audrey to pull away first.

When Audrey did so, she smiled sweetly and cast down her eyes.

Uma almost had to laugh, because of all people, she was the one getting a kiss from a princess, and she liked it too.

“If someone had told me about this, like, two years ago..” Audrey said, but didn't finish her sentence.

They both giggled at the fact that, not long ago neither of them would ever have expected this.

Audrey leaned onto her, not too much, only so their shoulders were touching lightly, and told her more about the places they'd visit and the things they'd see.

Uma suggested a trip to the Isle as well. She wasn't particularly proud of the place she grew up in, but she was proud of her ship and what she made of it. And it was sure to be unlike anything Audrey had ever seen before.

The storm had settled a bit, but they barely noticed. Audrey never even checked her phone to see if a message did get through.

The sun was starting to set, and only then were they disturbed by loud banging on the door, and muffled voices calling their names made them jump to their feet.

They hurried to the door, and in stumbled Mal and Ben and lots of snow.

“There you are!” Mal said and threw her arms around Uma's neck, only to let go again immediately to look Uma up and down. “Are you okay?”

Ben hugged Audrey with a little less vigor but just as much relief. “We've been looking everywhere for you!”

“Until Ben remembered this place,” Mal added.

“We're fine,” Uma reassured them.

Audrey clutched her chest. “You've been running around outside during this terrible storm?”

“We couldn't just wait around not knowing if something happened to you,” Ben said.

Mal ignored the question, still too agitated to have a calm conversation. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have egged you on when I knew you've never skied before. It's all my fault.”

Uma and Audrey exchanged a look, both trying to suppress a smile.

“It's fine,” Uma said. “We've been holding out in here.”

Ben had taken off his mittens and was now rubbing his hands together to warm them up. “Could we maybe join you for a bit? I'm not really in a rush to get back out there now that we know you're safe.”

“That depends,” Uma replied and lifted her chin.

This earned her confused looks and Mal asked, “On what?”

Uma smirked. “You think you can conjure up some hot chocolate?”

“That's a great idea,” Audrey said and gave her the sweetest of smiles.

#umaudrey #disney descendants #descendantsgiftexchange #uma x audrey

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krisanderwrites · 3 years ago

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Malachite and Sparrow 02

My second summer there was a mix up in the paperwork and I had to vacate the dorms for two weeks until it was sorted out. None of my classmates lived close enough to make couch surfing a viable option, so I eventually swallowed my apprehension and called my mother. Although I attempted to keep the conversation short, she was elated to hear that I would be coming home this year. When I finally hung up, I knew that there was no way Malachite had not overheard my given name. Of course she was considerate enough to not mention it.

The long trip home was peppered with anxiety attacks and countless worries. By the time I finally arrived in the airport, I was exhausted. Thankfully that gave me the excuse to ignore the way my parents did not recognize me until after a second glance. They shuffled me into the car, berating my tardiness and how it was messing with my sister's schedule since she had an important meeting. Everything felt dull and far away, much worse than my depression ever was while at college.

I took it easy, as much as someone going to Elsewhere University can on break. Unable to break the habit of watching every word I uttered, I found solace in furthering my research online and at the local library. I cleaned out my old room, throwing away most of the things I had no use for anymore. I visited my great-aunt Hazel in her nursing home. When she pressed a plastic bag full of small boxes into my hands, I gave her a strange look.

"For exchanges," she said, smiling. Opening one, I found a kitschy set of matching topaz earrings and necklace. Realizing the gift, I gave a small gasp. She would not accept me doing anything for her in exchange, simply saying that she had no use for all of them anyway. I still have no clue how she knew about the Gentry. However, she had certainly given me ideas.

I began to talk to my sister and mother, telling them about Malachite's love of jewelry of all kinds- how she even made her own on occasion. In response, they gave me all of their old things that they no longer wanted to pass along to her. A few of my cousins even dropped off their old mismatched earrings and pendants and charm bracelets. I went to the nursery and picked up seeds of plants I had not been able to get my hands on while on campus. In the back of my closet I found my old fighting gear and packed it into an old gym bag my brother was going to throw out.

To make sure there were no debts I mowed lawns, weeded gardens, cleaned out gutters, scrubbed bathrooms, and bathed dogs. Each present got a chore in payment. Money exchanged hands as well, but I tried to reserve as much of that as possible for more important things than trinkets to trade. In the end I left with two more bags than I had come back with, full of all sorts of helpful things. I think somehow I knew even then that I was never really coming back.

"You know... you really have changed," my mother remarked as she dropped me off at the airport.

My mouth was dry, "Yeah, I think I have too."

"I'm not sure it is for the better," she snidely added.

"Well, I do," I shrugged and grabbed the last bag out of the trunk.

She seemed uneasy, "I suppose this is goodbye then."

"Yep," I said.

"Will you at least call?" she asked.

"Probably not," I answered, not even attempting to stretch the truth. "I think we both have very different ideas about who I am, and it would probably just hurt more."

There were tears in her eyes when she laughed, "You really have changed. I will wish you luck, then. Don't worry about your father; he already knows. He's considered you dead for at least six months now."

"That does explain the lack of conversation," I had quipped. "Well, I have to somehow get through security with all this."

I walked away without looking back even once. Somehow it felt like I was shedding my old skin. I checked my bags and got onto the plane with no troubles. Smooth sailing for the Captain. The feeling of overall sluggishness left upon entering campus again. Dropped off in front of the dorm building with my bags, I was delighted to see a greeting party of crows waiting for me. They were rewarded with the best sugar cookies my hometown had to offer. Overall it felt more like coming home than visiting my family ever had.

* * * *

Settling back down into a dorm room felt strange knowing that it was going to be just me on my own again. I planted all the seeds I had bought in trays that I placed upon the windowsill. I sorted through all the jewelry I had amassed and threw away the unnecessary packaging; it still filled most of a duffel bag. My old fighting gear was relegated to the back of yet another closet; I could not bear to throw it away but for now it served no purpose. Perhaps I could find a new group to practice with on campus later. I took a part-time job at a local veterinary clinic to help expand my knowledge and experience.

To be truthful, everything was just a distraction until Malachite returned. Without her nearby I felt the pull of the Else at my veins. Sometimes I would stare out at the forest with a longing- an urge- to simply walk among the trees and then keep walking. Realistically I knew that this was a terrible idea, but it was true all the same. The Fair Folk were more numerous on campus as autumn drew closer, all eagerly anticipating the return of the students as much as I was.

With no small amount of glee, I showed off my acquisitions to Malachite. She stared, wide-eyed, and asked what in the world I was planning on doing with all of that jewelry. I laughed her off, claiming that I was just going to save it all for a rainy day. It was mostly true. (I was something of a zombie-survival plan person anyway.) I did not tell her that my intuition said that there were storms coming.

Still, things continued on much as normal for quite some time, if perhaps a bit busier. I gave presents to Jimothy- as many beads as my cousins had managed to trade for me doing their chores. Clients at the veterinary clinic occasionally brought me gifts for helping to care for their animals, which I in turn gifted to fae or other students. My study group commandeered a room in the library where the time distortion was not too terrible. I set a broken wing for one crow and stemmed the bleeding broken beak of another.

Sometimes I attended parties just to escort people back to their dorms safely. Ever curious, I worked endlessly on ideas and inventions that I never intended to see the light of day. After all, knowledge of how to heal and soothe comes only after knowledge of how to hurt and break. The contraptions piled in my closet next to my unused fighting gear.

It took some time for me to realize that Malachite had plans of her own.

By helping others and trading in offerings of homemade bread or sweets for crystals and gemstones, she had amassed quite a literal treasure trove. Taking these precious finds, she then created jewelry from them. Homemade trinkets are always worth more to the fae than ones that you buy in a store. As I watched her collection grow, I suddenly understood her concerns with my own hoard.

Then one day I walked in during a break from classes and realized something had happened. Malachite was burning sage in the room which showed evidence of a recent bout of furious cleaning. When pressed, she simply said that the salt lines had been worn away over time and needed replacing. The fearful glances to the corner of the room, however, spoke a different story.

I decided that though my hands were often burned with silver nitrate (so useful in stopping small bleeds), perhaps having the Sight was something I should keep around more often. Just in case. I began wearing a mood ring on my middle finger. It immediately turned to black and then remained that color whenever I wore it. I tried not to feel anxious about this and failed miserably.

* * * *

Right at midterms there was a brief flurry of activity before things settled down again. Hardly anyone got taken over midterms that year, as there were several days that were designated safe due to the school fair. Then there was a night where all the signs were there for A Hunt. There was a new moon and strange yelling that could be mistaken for baying. Everyone kept to their dorm rooms and locked the entrances.

What came knocking at our door was our new RA, who was a nice enough woman studying business and law.

"Captain," she had said.

I had tilted my head and informed her that was not my official nickname.

"No," she laughed, "but it suits you well. You're already rather well known as a Knight." Something about that title rang true in my bones and I had to suppress a shiver as she continued, "Anyway, there is a bit of a situation. They are asking for you to come out and see to one of their hounds."

"What they?" Malachite had demanded.

"You know, the Fair Folk," she explained.

"Absolutely not."

Blinking, we both turned to the side. Malachite pushed forward to stand in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"I'm not letting Sparrow take one step outside on a night of A Hunt. Even if it were not suicide, the chances of being stolen are far too great."

I laughed, "All my new surgical tools are made of steel. I doubt any of Them would want me."

Despite her protests, we both ended up following the RA to the threshold of the dorm hall. Standing there was a perfectly respectable attempt at a humanoid form, albeit with an extra limb or two. At least they were trying. The hound itself was, as typical, an eldritch abomination that could possibly be construed as canine if you were on LSD and also only had ever known dogs from the story of The Hound of the Baskervilles. However, the long, hungry glances the Good Neighbor kept sending towards Malachite were disconcerting.

"I will heal, for that is what is right," I offered readily, "but should you attempt to take or harm my companions, I will fight, as that is also right. Do we have an understanding here?"

The hissing reply was not pleased-sounding, but not being attacked outright was a good sign. When finally it nodded petulantly, I stepped forward to the heaving mass on the grass and kneeled down. Luckily it turned out to be a small favor. The monster had thorns in its hide from a hawthorn tree dipped in iron. Snarling at the wicked items, I palmed them with the thought to destroy it later by fire. A small salve applied to the wounded areas and the Hunt was once again ready to leave.

"Freely given," I said as they vanished into the mists.

"You're foolish," noted the RA. "You should have asked for something."

"Asking for payment is more foolish than being a good person," I replied. "All my aid is freely given, and I won't charge the Gentry any more than the crows. I am a healer, after all."

"Talk softly, treat others kindly, and carry a big damn stick," supplied Malachite.

"Exactly," I smiled as I closed my fist around the iron-tipped thorns.

* * * *

The hungry eyes of the Gentry were long forgotten as time slipped past. There was too much to do and too many who needed aiding for paranoia to set in fully. It did not catch my attention at the time that my plants were starting to grow a little too well or my newly acquired pet fish seemed more colorful than was natural. I did not notice when I began to avoid eating my food with excess salt.

No, my first sign that something was terribly wrong was an itching, sore rash across the back of my neck.

It took some time, but eventually we figured out the trusty iron chain that our talisman rested upon was causing the problem. For a few days, neither of us spoke about it. Suddenly developing an allergy to iron was greatly concerning. And telling. We both knew what it meant, despite trying to ignore it.

Slowly, things began to change. The salt lines in the doorways and windows became complex symbols and runes. The gemstone satchels somehow migrated away from my side of the room. I began to take my coffee with creamer and sugar, despite always having had it black before.

"Fae-touched," someone told us when they noted me sitting on the grass to avoid the iron bench. "Not quite a Changeling, but not entirely human either. You've gained a lot a favor with the Gentry. Or a lot of ire, I suppose."

"Don't listen to her," another student rolled their eyes. "Everyone knows Captain Sparrow's a knight and a healer. The Good Neighbors like you just where you are."

It explained a little, we supposed. My family was mixed, but both sides had come from areas steeped in tales of the Fair Folk. Those with links to the old countries always were a little more at risk. So we simply decided to take more care and discuss our options. And we agreed. Neither of us would leave for the Else without the other. We would remain together through thick and thin.

Thus our third year at Elsewhere University ended with us just as close as before.

#elsewhere university #elsewhere student #malachite and sparrow

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itcameuponamidnightqueer · 5 years ago

Note

Beaujes prompt? First kiss?

and you stood at your door with your hands on my waist,and you kissed me like you meant it.and i knew that you meant it(that you meant it)

“Talk to her,” Fjord says, his words dripping with more than a little frustration.

You roll your eyes and fling a handful of sand back at him.

It’s new, this thing you do together. Caduceus is so good at meditating, so comfortable with being still. But you and Fjord—the son of no one and the daughter of too many—are still struggling with it. He seems very intent on establishing himself as a proper follower of Melora, someone who takes time to consider his role and relationship with his god. Fjord is settling nicely into piety, and you simply need to learn how to exist comfortably inside yourself.

So most mornings you sit together wherever you are, even if it’s just for a few minutes. You have coats and furs when there’s snow, the shelter of trees for rain, boulders to shield against strong winds. No matter the weather, you find time to be calm with each other.

And so you find yourself on a beach in Nicodranas, sitting back-to-back with one of your first friends, watching the sun rise over the ocean. This is your favorite place in the entire world, and only slightly because of the place itself.

Fjord is breaking protocol by speaking but you’re not too bothered; you were itching to move anyway.

“It’s not—it’s stupid,” you mumble. “But I can’t.”

“Beau, if anyone can talk to Jester—and really, anyone can—it’s certainly you.”

“No, I know, but like—” You dig your hands into the sand and clam up, digging as much as you can within your reach until you find a rock. It’s a small one, and you’re too far away from the water to make it in, but you throw it anyway.

“Do you think you’ll ruin your friendship?” Fjord prods.

You’ve thought about that before, when you first told Nott about your crush on Jester. It used to worry you but it doesn’t anymore, not after spending time with Jester afterwards without noticing any changes. Certainly there were changes on your end—feelings sit differently within you once you’ve said them out loud—but Jester was the same, cheery and understanding and so, so bright. She relaxed you immediately even if she didn’t know she was doing it.

“No,” you finally reply. “But it’s like—remember how Yasha was once we got her back? Like, how it just seemed like she was waiting for one of us to beat her up and she kind of flinched whenever we smiled? It’s like that.”

“I don’t follow.”

You sigh. “Whatever she feels, Jester is going to be so nice about it, and I—I can’t handle that, man.”

“So you’re just going to suffer in silence?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jester yells, and you’re more startled than you should be. You whip around to see that she’s maybe thirty feet away, smiling and carrying a plate of donuts.

You elbow Fjord as hard as you can without Jester noticing. “You couldn’t warn me she was coming?” you hiss. “I’m gonna make you suffer.”

“Oh, I’m quaking in my boots,” Fjord responds monotonously. But you feel him rubbing his side, and you’re soothed.

You get up and dust off your pants, walking over to Jester to take the plate from her hands. “Nothing, Jes,” you say with a smile. “Just meditating.”

“Okay.” She hugs you, squishes in closer the way she does when she’s cold and wants to steal your warmth. You can’t fight a smile even as you roll your eyes, hugging back with the hand not holding the plate. As she pulls away she presses a kiss to your cheek, leaving behind a few sugar crystals; you wonder if maybe that was closer to the corner of your mouth than she intended.

“Uh…”

“Good morning, Beau!” she chirps.

“Yeah, mornin’.”

Jester hugs Fjord with the same enthusiasm; he gives you a very deliberate look over Jester’s shoulder and you furiously shake your head.

“Are you guys about to work out or can we eat a big sugary breakfast?”

You should say no. You should stick to your training. Your body is your weapon and you can’t run the risk of letting it malfunction.

Your father and the monks trained you to be hard—for Jester, you will endure sentiment and sweetness.

“We can take a day off, I guess.”

Fjord quickly pumps his fist as the three of you sit down, plate of breakfast pastries in the middle as you all face each other. Jester immediately grabs the biggest one and smiles at you as she takes a bite, her eyes twinkling as if she knows a very good secret.

It takes everything you have not to visibly swoon. From the way Fjord coughs, you think maybe you did anyway.

Fuck, you have to talk to her.

But Jester sweeps you up in her energy the same way she always does, pulling you along for the ride and allowing you to forget, even for a few hours, about the part of you that is going to explode one of these days.

Every time you’re in Nicodranas, Jester wants to be outside, to do something fun or show you some special, secret place. But you’re just as happy to stay inside as long as you’re with her, so you don’t mind when it starts to rain and the two of you hole up in her bedroom.

It’s just as chaotic as Jester is, which isn’t a surprise. There are drawings and figurines shoved into drawers and shelves, worn and well-read books piled wherever there’s room. Organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. You smile to yourself over the next few hours as you imagine Jester at the Cobalt Soul, frustrating every monk who might have tried to rein her in. Not even Dairon has that much patience, you’d wager.

As the afternoon wears on into evening and the rain doesn’t stop, both of you mellow out, setting aside card games and childhood mementos for storytelling. You never had any of this growing up, the kind of bonding that comes at night when people are relaxed and close to each other. You got along with some kids at school but your father was too protective to let you out of the house even for a night. Eventually, your friend group tightened and moved on without you.

You never really missed it until Jester, until you found someone with whom you deserved to share quiet nights.

“Beau?”

Your head bounces a little from where it rests on Jester’s stomach as she speaks. You’re both laying down—Jester vertically, her ankles crossed over each other, and you horizontally, so you can bounce a rubber ball off her wall. Using her as a pillow is just an added bonus, really, and you’re sure she would have suggested it if you hadn’t assumed.

“Hm?”

“We haven’t really talked about, well, about Kamordah, and I totally understand if you don’t want to, I really do, but—we’re best friends, right?”

“‘Course we are.”

“And best friends should be able to say everything to each other, even the hard things.”

You catch the ball and don’t throw it again. “Especially the hard things,” you say, trying very hard to calm your quickening pulse.

“Okay.”

Jester rests her hands near your head, absently tickling your hairline whenever her fingers get close enough.

“What’s up, Jes?”

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” she asks, tripping over her words.

You crinkle your brows. “What, like to stay? Not a chance.”

“No, no; not to stay. But, family is complicated and I know your dad is a shitbag. He doesn’t deserve you, any part of you, and I wanted to punch him so much…” Jester takes a calming breath or two; you turn your head and look up at her, at the way she consciously works to relax her pursed lips. You can’t help laughing when she catches your eye.

She smiles back and scratches your forehead on purpose this time.

“You would be such a good big sister,” Jester says, her eyes soft and sincere. “You’re so good, Beau—you’re so, so good—and you deserve the chance to give that to someone.”

“What do you think I keep you around for?” you tease.

By the way she looks at you, you think maybe Jester didn’t take it as teasing.

“Right,” she says, laughing halfheartedly. “It’s stupid; I shouldn’t tell you how to feel about your family.” She sits up on her elbows and looks out of the window, sighing when the rain doesn’t stop. “Sorry we’ve been stuck inside all day.”

You hum, just a little noise to show you’re there, that you’re listening. You want to pull her fingers down and tangle them with yours.

“What would you do,” you ask gently, “if you had a sibling?”

“Oh my gosh.” Jester huffs out a large breath; you can practically see the swirl of images and fantasies that must be playing in her mind. “I would teach them so much, like how to steal food from the kitchen or sneak up on Bluud or how to prank Mama’s clients, except I would make sure they were better at it than I was so they wouldn’t get caught.”

“You’d still want to get caught?”

“Well, yah,” Jester says, like it’s the most obvious answer. “If I hadn’t gotten caught, Mama wouldn’t have sent me away and I wouldn’t have found you. It’s like, I guess it’s like you and the Cobalt Soul only with less kidnapping.”

“Mm. Yeah, that’s a good thing to not have in your life.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have needed the Traveler if I had a sibling,” Jester muses. Maybe the Traveler wouldn’t have needed you, you think, but that’s a conversation for another day.

“That’s okay, though,” she continues. “I found most of this stuff on my own anyway.” She gestures to the knick-knacks that litter the room. “I guess it sounds stupid, when I put it like that. Wanting a sibling just so I can show them pranks.”

“Are you kidding? That’s exactly what siblings are made for.” You sit up and try not to jostle Jester too much. You look around the room, taking stock of all the stolen trinkets and homemade crafts. “Here, okay.” You stand and reach for a music box on Jester’s bedside table. “This? This is the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

You cross the room and reach for a figurine on top of Jester’s bookcase that seems to be made of dried fruit and noodles. “This?” you say, pointing to it with an exaggerated finger. “Also the coolest fucking thing. And this?” You reach for a small ceramic owlbear, holding it between two knuckles as the noodle-man rests in your palm. “Absolutely fucking rad. This whole room is full of memories, Jes. Even if you only wanted a sibling just to share this stuff….what a gift, man. There’s like—” You flip the owlbear into the air and catch it on the back of your hand. “I could spend a whole day in here, just to listen to you tell me the stories of how you got all these things.”

You shove your hands in your pockets and look around at the piles and stacks of brightly colored novelties. Something buzzes inside your chest, a forgotten yearning. “Maybe I will go back again,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

But Jester is waiting for you when you turn back around. She’s standing so close you’re not sure how you didn’t hear her sneaking up on you.

“Do you mean that?” she whispers. Your face falls at the heaviness in her cheeks, the worry and wet in her eyes.

“What, about Kamordah? I dunno,” you shrug. “Not for my parents, but TJ—”

“No.” Jester shakes her head. “No, not Kamordah. About—about all these stupid things.”

“Oh. Well, yeah.” You rock back on your heels a little. “Nothing’s stupid when it’s yours, Jes.”

She looks at you like she might cry, like she’s carrying entire worlds behind her eyes and they’re on the verge of spilling out. You think about the few people you’ve looked at like that—you wonder, just a little—but no—

Jester kisses you just as you’re trying not to get your hopes up.

It’s clumsy, little more than just a firm press of her lips, but it’s so—Jester is everywhere else, insistent and enveloping. She walks you backwards and your surprised when your back hits her door—surely you were floating a moment ago.

Jester rests her hands on your hips; she’s unsure where to put them, you can tell. You also couldn’t care less, and you wrap your arms around her and kiss her until you run out of breath.

“Fuck, Jes,” you huff, at the same time that she heaves and “Oh my god, Beau.”

Both of you laugh, quiet and special and only for each other.

“Well.” You lick your lips, cup her cheek and swipe your thumb gently over the bridge of her nose. “We have some things to talk about.”

“Mhm.”

“But maybe, we could nap first?”

Jester smiles and nods, takes your hand and leads you back to her bed. You realize when you lie down that you’re still holding the two toys.

Jester lifts up her covers and waits for you to settle against her. You balance the owlbear and pasta-creature on her stomach and laugh as they immediately fall over.

“I’m gonna fall asleep soon,” you yawn, “but tell me a story first.”

Jester’s voice is just as warm as her arms, and when you sleep, you dream of her.

#critical role #jestergard #beaujester #jester lavorre #beauregard lionett #cr: regular nein #tumblr fic #anon i hope you're still around five hours later!!#and many many thanks for the prompt :)#long post

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gunmetalarchived · 4 years ago

Text

continued from this text thingy for something to tell you | a discord thread with @diabolicaltendencies

ALEX

She hovered outside his door, already wondering if he had just been nice on the phone to let her down in person. Even worse, after years of going through the conversation with people she didn’t give a shit about, it was hard to redo it all when she cares this much about someone else’s opinion. It was easy to dismiss gossip and rumour. Not so much the way her face cracked in a smile whenever her phone lit up with his name.

Fuck it. She took a deep breath and hit his door bell, the smell of vinegar seeping up from the heavily soaked chips in her arms. At least she would have some fuel for bribery, and a couple of beers to help it flow quicker.

SAM

Sam knew the conversation they'd had over text was heavier than she was letting on. He'd done some poking around the internet since, but after one or two crazy headlines and hyperlinks to celebrity conspiracy blogs popping up on his screen, he quickly quit he quit. It just gave him more proof that talking to people was more useful than googling them. He still can't believe people actually do that.

He opens the door with a smile, genuine and bright as he looks at her, "Hey!" He glances down at the bag and looks a bit confused but no less happy to see her, "Did you bring food?"

ALEX

“And beer, don’t forget the beer.” She beamed up at him, immediately glad she had come even if this was going to be awkward. She took a step inside setting the bag down in his hall to immediately yank him down to her level. If he had been acting polite earlier, fine, but there was no way on earth he was going to escape her barrage of kisses. She missed him. A couple weeks up north and a long overdue day in the studio aggravated that. The nerves more so.

“Cmere stupid.”

SAM

"And beer." He concedes, closing the door behind her. He pulls her close the same time she reaches for him, kissing her thoroughly like there hadn't even been an earlier conversation. He missed her just as much. Cupping her jaw, Sam runs his thumb along her cheek when they pull apart. "If you keep that up, the food's going to get cold."

ALEX

She folded into him so easily, so naturally it was like she was made to for there. It was still a surprise how normal this could feel. Her experience of relationships had been all or nothing, hot and cold was a mild way to put it. Yet with Sam, things seemed to sit at a constant simmer. A gentle bubble, a constant reminder that happiness was just a kiss away d as t the most. Gentle hands and soft touches, it was all so cliche and yet simply perfect.

Alex shrugged, because in all honesty she was happy to forget about the food entirely. But she rolled her eyes like a begrudging teenager, even if the idiotic grin on her face gave her away. “Fine, but I’m coming back for more later, alright?”

SAM

He presses a kiss against her hair before pulling away to pick up the food, "I hope so~" He flashes her a just-short-of-cocky grin and ushers her inside. The flat is an organized mess. There are jackets, papers and books littered about but they've each found their own neat pile. He's been pulling long hours and has resorted to just enough tidying to keep things from overwhelming him. One day it'll all get put away but it's not today.

"Wow, what'd I do to deserve this?" He comments happily upon peeking at their meal for the evening. He places the bag on the coffee table and settles down on one end of the gently worn couch.

ALEX

Alex followed him into his space, heading straight for the sofa too. She liked his flat, it was funny how it could feel so lived in. Her own place was so sparse, she looked like she could leave at any moment without it seeming out of place. But his was worn, loved, filled with time and memories. “Consider it bribery? Also, you’re welcome for saving you from any attempt at me cooking.”

She kicked her shoes off, immediately tucking her feet up underneath her and reaching for her keys from her pocket to open the beer bottles. “What have you been reading about? What’s that one?” She pointed to a pile on the coffee table curiously.

SAM

He begins sorting out the food, placing a box on either end of the table within reach and divvying up all the extra things in the bag. He glances up at the pile of books. It's mostly a stack of textbooks but the top one is a novel, "Oh, that's Stephen King's new one." He reaches to grab it and pass it over to her before opening his box and popping a fry into his mouth.

ALEX

She took the book form him, flipping through the pages likes he could actually take any of it in. No doubt she'd be up for it whenever it became a movie, but she had neither the mindset or the patience for reading. She learnt over, setting it back down carefully where he had pulled it form even if it meant being thoroughly in his way. Alex grabbed one of the bottles, using her keys in a way they were definitely not intended and holding it out for him to take. "Here y' go"

SAM

He leans backs slightly to make room for her to lean over but not quite enough that they aren't completely in each other's space. But it's comfortable, easy. "Thanks," He takes the bottle and downs a quick swig before smiling at her. "So what's the bribe for?"

ALEX

She grabbed the other bottle, playing with her keys again to loosen the top and taking a large swig to gather her thoughts. Her own food was still semi wrapped, so she stretched out for a chip from his. Taking it, Alex smirked.

“Well, I’m guessing you’ve got a ton of questions. And you might not like the answers so.. just in case.”

SAM

Sam slides his food a bit closer between them without complaint, continuing to casually eat himself. He smiles softly at her smirk, there's a short silence after she speaks before he replies, "We don't have to do this now. Unless you want to. My questions can wait."

ALEX

"Feels like we should rip the plaster off now, right?" There was no easy way to explain that if she put it off, she might stop talking all together. It happened, from time to time. He had just the good fortune of not being around to see it. Long distance worked like that. Alex shifted further into the sofa, curling into the arm to face him. "I'm all ears."

SAM

Sam looks over her and sits back against the couch, holding the beer in his lap. "Okay... I'm... not sure where to start." He offers an apologetic smile. "Maybe if you just-- explain what you were worried about me hearing? Give me the context?"

ALEX

"That's... fair." And it made it all the harder. Usually the songs lead this conversation or the press. Or both, if it was truly awful. She had fielded the worst of it for a few years not. It just had less stakes than this normally. Even when Jim found out. "I- erm-" She swallowed, hard. She pursed her lips to let the silence hang, trying to figure out where to start.

"I was with someone for about five years, l-like I said. He was on my course, and lived with me. We made a lot of music together until he got scouted, and then the thing I liked about him made us... not great."

SAM

Sam nods, he's listening intently, following along but not demanding anything. "And... that's what went into the music he wrote?" He asks gently, trying to put the pieces she's given him so far together.

ALEX

Alex nodded too, averting her eyes to take a sip from her own bottle as her fingers moved to fiddle with the label. “I wasn’t a great person... well I’m still not.” How best to put it? Her early twenties had been toxic, partly because of her relationship but also her outlook. There wasn’t really a way to explain all of that. “He wrote about me, about how he felt things had shifted between us. He took songs I had worked on with him and changed the lyrics to suit his view. And because my family is involved in politics, I didn’t get the luxury of having a fucked up relationship the same way other people do.”

SAM

Sam frowns, "So the media get a hold of it." He concludes. That would make sense of all the dramatics he'd seen from a simple search.

ALEX

“The band charted, there was a lot of press around the music from the few demos the label had pushed and... I was a great target.” She shifted awkwardly, tearing off a larger chunk of the label and rolling to between her fingers. “Things kind of spiralled from there.”

SAM

"Can I ask his name.. or the band's? I don't want to listen." He clarifies quickly. "Not unless you want me to for some reason. I just-- I don't want to look like an idiot if they come up."

ALEX

"Yeah- yeah, no of course. Elliot McAlistair, the band is Vactican Camoes. It was some dumb in joke the boys had." She smiled, softly. It was reassuring, whether he meant it or not. "You can. I mean, they're on the radio constantly. Sort of... unavoidable."

They had become the soundtrack to her life, especially working in the bar. Eventually she'd managed to curate some decent playlists to avoid it, but every now and agains she would be caught off guard by his tinny voice echoing from a shop front or builders radio.

"I don't come off well from it. I'm not... the most stable person in his eyes. And my dad - my brother, they didn't take it well."

SAM

"Well, good news is I don't believe everything I hear on the radio." Sam looks at her fondly. She's sitting so defensively, so worried about what he's going to think or say, but all he want to do is wrap an arm around her shoulders and hold her close. He knows this is her side of the story, but honestly that's the only one that matters to him. "...How did they take it?"

ALEX

Everything about her was nervous, tightly wound and yet somehow restless. Maybe finally talking about this would release the pit in her stomach.

“It’s- erm...” she tried to swallow again, opening her lips a few times before she had the sounds to fill them. “It’s.. complicated. I’m not, well, I wasn’t close with my dad so- yeah. It was very... personal. I sort of- I-I stopped talking for a while. My brother, he was better. But it’s... it’s not something people forget.”

She puffed out her cheeks, letting loose a heavy breath. “He wrote about things that made them look b-bad.”

SAM

Sam puts down the beer and shifts to sit facing her. He slowly reaches for her hand, giving her time to pull away if she wants to. He won't force the contact, "Hey." He shakes his head, "That's not your fault."

ALEX

“No, n-no I know you’re right.” She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his with a small squeeze. It was hard because she wasn’t expecting this comfort, but she liked it. Maybe this is what healthy relationships looked like. Her smile fell from her face though, her eye-line dropping to her feet. “Except, well, it kinda is. S-some of it anyway. They’re politicians so my life just... it doesn’t work for them. Me being me- it’s a bit of a whirlwind.”

SAM

He takes her hand in both of his, fingers caressing her skin. "I can't pretend to know what you were like then. I guess I don't really know your family either, but, I like who you are now. A song or headline isn't going to change that... and politicians, celebrities or not, nothing justifies someone selling your private life to the public without your consent. You know that, right?"

ALEX

On some base level, she knew he was right. And she agreed with him completely. Yet her mind swung constantly, between outrage at her life being subject to the judgment of the British public and shame at what a mess it had become. "Yeah." She said it quietly the first time, barely audible before she repeated it a little stronger. Maybe it would sink in.

"I don't know. I wasn't a decent person, neither was he. And I can live with that. It's become very real, having to explain it to everyone."

SAM

He nods and smiles encouragingly, squeezing her hand lightly between his. Sure, he would need more details for the full picture - to actually listen to the songs or read the articles. But even if it's the worst thing he can imagine... he doesn't think it would matter. He likes the Alex he knows, flaws and all, "Well I'm not running away yet... so now what?"

ALEX

"You sure? There's still time?" She uses her free hand to check an imaginary watch, trying to use the bit to gather her shaky confidence. It made sense he was playing nice now, whilst she was here and in the room. It was what came later she was terrified for. "It's okay. If this is too much, that's alright. My life isn't private anymore, it's a lot to get used to"

SAM

"It's not too much." He keeps up his reassuring smile. "Is there anything else you want me to know?"

ALEX

“You say that now...” she took a swig from her beer with a shrug. “I don’t know, guess if there’s any questions?”

SAM

"Hm." He looks down at their hands leaning in to kiss her knuckles before glancing back up with bright blue eyes, "Do I get to hear more of your music now that I know?"

ALEX

It was impossible not to smile when he did shit like this. Small, meaningful gestures that completely derailed her toxic train of thought. She leant forwards, pulling her hands away setting her bottle down on the coffee table before she flopped onto him entirely. She let her head rest against his chest, curling her shoulders to fit in the space at the back of the sofa. Impossible for him to eat, but soothing all the same. “Maybe. If you wanted to? Truth is I haven’t really written, well not for me. For friends, sure but that’s different. I’ve had an idea or two... just not got very far ‘til you came along.”

SAM

Sam falls perfectly into place, right where she wants him. He curls an arm around her, fingers lightly ghosting back and forth before reaching up to brush her hair back from her face. "I'd love to hear it." And he genuinely means it. There's a small note of excitement in his words.

ALEX

Easy. He made things easy. Easier to talk, to be kind, to be honest. Easier to write too. Sure, she'd been playing around with ideas more form the moment they met. However they were still personal - a real outlet for the intense feelings she had been having and trying to play down. Alex knew she was besotted. Acting cool was tricky when she fel so hard, and so fast for the people who showed her the slightest affection. She didn't even think, she just let it out. She had intended to say 'I'd love you to.' but it came out... different.

"I think I love you."

SAM

Out of everything she’s said, all the supposed horrors and skeletons in her closet, it’s those three words that surprise him. He inhales, chest expanding under her cheek, and his expression flutters between surprise and happiness. His breath catches on the exhale, words tumbling out of his mouth before he can think twice, whispered into her hair, “I love you too.”

Maybe it wasn't the right time to say it. Maybe he should've waited for a moment that wasn't weighed down by what's she's been through. But he's happy. He loves her. It's the truth. His arm tightens around her in a loose hug.

#discord thread 012 | something to tell you #( sh: toothpaste kisses | alex + sam | happyverse )#diabolicaltendencies #( v: happyverse )

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returnsandreturns · 4 years ago

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i’m going through all of my google drive accounts and i’ve tried to write a novel with versions of these two ladies four times but i’ve never had a plot, just feelings about them and a general mood

there’s magic going on somewhere in there but i never write fantasy so who knowssssss

---

“I’m going to do it this time,” Casey says, standing underneath the big elm tree that lives outside of Em’s house. She does a few elaborate stretches, nothing they’ve learned in gym class, kind of like what Em’s mom does in front of the TV--cardioaerobics or something.

Em’s sitting on the little stretch of roof outside her window, her knees curled up to her chest.

“You’re going to break a limb,” she says, matter-of-factly. It wouldn’t be the first limb broken in Casey’s relentless pursuit of glory, whether it was the pinky sacrificed in an arm wrestling match or the leg broken in two places trying to climb out her window last year to go running in the woods. That’s Casey. Her inherent clumsiness and shameless athleticism go hand in hand.

Casey’s putting her hair up in a high ponytail now before she positions her hands on her hips, Wonder Woman style.

“Tree limb,” she asks, “or--you know--me limb?”

“You limb,” Em replies, laughing. “Should I go ahead and call the ambulance now so they’re ready for you?”

“You used to believe in me,” Casey says, pointing up at her accusingly. “Puberty is ruining you.”

Just the word puberty sends chills up Em’s spine. Her mom avoided giving her the talk until the last possible moment, a really horrible moment where Em tried to sneak a blood-stained pair of underwear into their laundry and her mother caught her and basically dragged her into the living room to teach her about being a woman.

It’s been two years and Em still hasn’t recovered from hearing her mom use the words pubic hair. She grabs a gummy worm from the bag beside her and tosses it at Casey, missing her by several feet.

“Weak,” Casey says, not even turning her head, chin tilted up and squinting at the tree through the sun. She does a couple of lunges, some weird wobbly arm movements, and then she takes a breath so deep that Em can practically feel it even from so high up and heads for the tree at a sprint.

Em holds her breath, doesn’t take her eyes off the surprisingly elegant arc of Casey’s body in a too-big t-shirt and leggings as Casey’s scuffed Keds skid for a half a second in the grass before she leaves the ground. It’s a good jump, a strong start--Casey throws her arms up immediately to grab the closest branch and actually manages to catch it, which is further than she’s gotten since her primary goal in life became Climb Em’s Ancient Tree Guardian.

It’s just an Elm tree. Em might have been convinced when she was a kid that a little bit of her grandmother’s soul was inside of it and might have told Casey that once when they were younger. Their sleepover talk tended to veer in the direction of I thought for awhile that my grandmother didn’t so much die as she became one with the giant tree in our front yard conversations, rather than the things that girls in movies talk about. She thinks this might be true of lots of girls, but she can’t say for sure.

Casey had nodded like it was the most reasonable thing in the world and refused to enter Em’s house without first greeting her grandmother from that point on, originally with reverence, eventually with hugs. This morning, she had thrown her arms around the trunk and said, voice slipping into something a little more sweet and Southern than usual, “Granny, you’re gonna accept me into your arms today.”

Casey swings from the branch and her feet scramble against the bark to try to force herself up before she says, “Shit damn,” in one breath and her hands slip.

Heat flares up underneath Em’s skin. For a second, everything dims except the shine of the sun against Casey’s hair, braids piled up on top of her head. She might not actually hurt herself if she falls, but it doesn’t matter. The world shifts inside Em’s head. Two seconds pass and Casey lands gently on her knees in the grass.

“Why does she hate me?” Casey asks, sighing dramatically and throwing herself onto her back, not noticing a thing. “Doesn’t she know I’m family?”

Em draws in a shaky breath before she smiles, throws down another gummy worm that lands on Casey’s bare stomach where her shirt has ridden up. Casey laughs and eats it immediately.

“She’s a tree,” Em says. “She doesn’t know anything.”

“Don’t talk about your grandmother like that,” Casey says, still laughing. She groans like the weight of the world is on her fourteen-year-old bones as she pushes herself to her feet, pointing a finger at Em. “Don’t move, I’m coming up.”

“Yes’m,” Em murmurs, leaning back against the wall, her feet dangling over the edge. This is as dangerous as she gets: sitting.

She can hear the front door open and shut, hear Casey yell, “It’s just me, Ms. Adams,” and Em’s mom yell something back--Casey’s footsteps diverted at the sound. She’s probably going to get some concerned noises about grass stains and the scrapes on her hands where they slid and lost their grip. Em takes deep, deep breaths until her heart finally calms down and Casey’s hands hit the half-closed window, making Em start.

“Jesus,” she murmurs.

“Nope, just me,” Casey says, shoving the window open and crawling through it, immediately dropping down to sit next to Em, their arms pressing together. Casey’s skin is sun warm and soft, the sleeves of her t-shirt rolled up and held with safety pins.

“You okay?” Em asks, turning sideways to eye her up and down. Casey wipes her hands off on her knees before presenting them obligingly, showing faint scrapes on her palms, skin a little swollen.

Em takes one of them and hates the blush that threatens to rise in her cheeks at the touch, dropping it immediately and turning her head back to the house across the street. She’s been blushing a lot lately. With all the things she can control when her heart’s geared in the right direction, she can never stop the blush.

“You could just get a ladder,” Em says, and Casey tips her head back and laughs and laughs, a little hoarse. Casey’s voice is always just a little hoarse. Em says it’s because she talks too much.

Casey says it’s because she’s got a lot to say, refuses to accept that it’s the same thing.

“I’m going to get up in that tree,” she says, a grand declaration, her arms that isn’t shoved up against Em’s arm shooting into the air, “before we’re in high school.”

It’s July. July 6th, to be exact. Em knows this without looking to check because it’s been two days since the Fourth of July and people are still setting off fireworks, like they bought too many, like they’re just not done celebrating.

“That’s not an awful lot of time,” Em says. They left middle school behind in the hazy past, one more summer until they became something entirely new. That was the plan, anyway. The last three years have produced a long and varied list of Things We’ll Do Before We’re In High School, and they haven’t exactly done--most of them. Any of them, really.

“We’ve also gotta get kissed,” Casey says, making a face that Em can see out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head just enough to make the same face back at her. Kissing was on the list, an unfortunate necessity that they both agreed had to be faced head-on. If gossip was to be believed, and they weren’t exactly in a position to question their only source of news, every other girl in their classes has found an appropriate boy-shaped human to touch mouths with by this point.

“You could just kiss the tree,” Em says, and Casey snorts on a laugh, insinuating an arm around Em’s shoulder so they’re tucked together.

“She’s too old for me,” Casey says. “I’ll just have to pick someone and go for it.”

“Romantic,” Em says.

“Kissing isn’t romantic, anyway,” Casey says. “It’s just. Wet.”

“How do you know?” Em asks, smiling sideways at her.

“It’s basic science,” Casey says. “Lips. Tongues.”

She sticks hers out at Em, and Em copies her before she turns away again, hiding her face in her knees because, yeah, there’s the blush. It’s always right under the surface, ready to come out and ruin her whole life.

“Tongues,” she repeats, muffled.

“I don’t understand it, either,” Casey says, airily, “but, yeah, tongues.”

Casey’s arm tightens around her, her head tipping to rest against Em’s after Em sits up again. The sun is hot on their heads, and Casey’s skin is warm against hers where they touch, arms and ankles and temples.

“Kissing,” she says. “Safely consume alcohol without getting caught.”

“That’ll be easy,” Em says. Her mom’s got a liquor cabinet--well, it wasn’t made with that intended purpose, but there’s a cabinet in their kitchen that’s close enough--and Casey’s parents are so distracted with her new baby brother that they could do shots in the middle of their living room and they wouldn’t even notice.

“I want to get in a fist fight,” Casey continues, “but I know how you feel about that.”

“You weigh ten pounds and you will die,” Em says, nodding. Casey laughs.

“So, no fist fighting,” she says. “Unless it comes up naturally.”

“No fist fighting at all.”

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elstreem · 4 years ago

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Shard’s Castle Adventure

A little fanfic about Shard (Baby Shadow, more info about him here!) But if you don’t feel like reading 4605 words have this little art ^_^

Summary: With the Four Swords away doing their duty, Shard is left alone at the castle. One whole day without his family, but he has Zelda, a cat, and two strange men wandering around the castle to hold his attention.

Five knights on their horses ran out of the castle gate, stirring dust and excitement in their wake. Castle soldiers raised their spears in salute, and villagers waved and cheered -

“Go get them boys!”

“Go, Link!”

“Still with the Link…” the knight in green sighed, though barely anyone in the cheering throng heard him over the sound of the horse’s hooves. However, his fellow knights still heard, and the one garbed in red smiled, “Well, it’s easier to just cheer ‘Link’ than say a bunch of colors, right?”

“Well yeah, but it’s kind of annoying me!” Green said.

“That or you’re worried about something else?” Vio asked.

“Me? I think you’re the one who was most worried about leaving,” Green said back.

“Well…” Vio said.

“Oh, come on guys, the sooner we do this the sooner we can get back.” This was said by the knight clothed in black, who looked a little different from the rest of the group.

“Shadow is right - so, come on!” Blue said.

“Yeah, you’re right - let’s go!”

By this time the group was already on their way along the path, and the people they served were oblivious to the group’s worries. Everyone was all too happy to see the Four Swords on their way to stop a rough group of bandits. Everyone, except for two figures standing at the window of the castle’s tower, watching as the kingdom’s finest knights left.

One of the figures was known throughout the land for her grace and beauty, but at the moment there was a frown of concern on Princess Zelda’s face. Beside her, barely tall enough to peer through the window, was a small child who looked very similar to knights of the Four Sword. However, his eyes were like opaque glass with no pupils. They looked like blank spheres to any passer-by, but Zelda could see the worry in them. The princess sighed and put a hand on top of the boy’s hair.

“It’s always hard, waiting for them like this,” Zelda said. The boy turned his face to look up at her, and Zelda couldn’t help but ruffle his hair.

“Don’t worry, Shard. They’ll be fine,” the princess said. Shard dipped his head in a small nod, but his mouth was also pulled into a frown. Zelda crouched down to see his face better.

“I guess you must feel lonely without them, huh?” Zelda said. Shard stared at her - no one was sure just how much he was able to understand speech, and for that matter, Shard could only speak in a garbled approximation, sounding very much like a baby with his high-pitched voice. But even without words, Zelda felt Shard’s loneliness, so she gently took his hands.

“Well, staring out there won’t help them come back quicker - could you come with me? I’m no substitute for Vio, but I would like to read to you, and I think I have a few books you’ll like,” Zelda said.

In answer, Shard gave her a sunny grin.

~~~~~

The hours of the morning passed pleasantly. Sitting together in the princess’s office, Shard watched and listened as Zelda read books to him. In a little while they also took a walk in the garden, observing the bees and ladybugs that flitted among the plants (once, Shard chased after a ladybug and caught the little creature, and proudly presented it to Zelda). And it was also Shard who accompanied the princess to the hidden room in which the seal of the demon Vaati was located. In the silent room, Shard stood guard, holding a small sword and shield he had made from spare wood. Normally Zelda would be accompanied by her handmaidens, or the Four Swords, or if neither of the two were available, a whole troop of soldiers would be assigned to her. But the threat of Vaati’s return was literally shattered in pieces, and so Zelda felt that Shard would make a suitable companion.

It was a good day for the pair, but unfortunately, the princess also had her duties to fulfill. Much as she would like to spend more time with Shard (of whom she was very fond of) Zelda was called away to royal duties during the afternoon, leaving Shard alone.

While no one would dare say it against the princess or the Four Swords, Shard’s uncanny looks drew him a lot of suspicion. And so, Shard preferred not to draw attention to himself, using his small size and fleet feet to dart around the shadows of the hallways. He was hardly noticed in the busy corridors, and this suited him just fine.

Shard eventually made his way to the busy kitchens, where Red sometimes took him to do some baking. When the two got permission to “mess about in the kitchens” they were given a small space to their own, but on a regular day the kitchen staff were hard at work, preparing meals for dinner or cleaning dishes that had been used. Shard decided to avoid the main cooking area and went around the back, observing the errand boys and girls who brought in, or tossed out food. It was not a very clean place and bits of leftovers were always in the area, and this attracted stray animals.

Shard watched in interest as a cat snagged a fish from an unguarded waste pile. Curiosity piqued, Shard followed closely. He was not familiar with too many animals as there weren’t a lot within the castle, though he sometimes helped the Four Swords tend their horses.

Aware of being followed, the cat slowed down and turned to face Shard, the fur on its back bristling. Shard stopped and the two stared at each other for some time. Seeing as Shard was not making any moves to steal its food, the cat decided to continue walking. The two wandered on and ended up near the castle wall. Shard passed the time observing the cat as it ate its meal and cleaned itself. Seeing that the curious boy was no threat, the cat decided to brush up against Shard’s side, and the boy looked with fascination at the soft fur touching his skin. With a meow, the cat decided to walk on and take a stroll through its territory, and Shard followed. If he was able to voice what his thoughts were, it would be to say that the cat reminded him of Shadow.

When the cat ventured beyond the castle’s wall, Shard waved the feline a good-bye, not willing to leave the only place he knew. He then turned towards the tower, intending to watch for the Four Swords’ return from the window. Moving silently through the lesser-used passageways, Shard was surprised to find a pair of men wandering about. They were dressed like the castle’s staff, but they were not moving purposefully and seemed lost.

Shard decided to hang back and watch the pair closely. They grumbled to each other and kept looking around as if they didn’t want to be seen. Being an expert in keeping himself hidden, Shard was able to keep out of their sight while following them.

Eventually, the two seemed to figure out their bearings and began to walk towards, of all places, the rooms where the Four Swords lived! Shard knew, of course - he lived there as well. In his determination to find out what the men were up to, it didn’t occur to him to call for help, and perhaps it was for the best - apart from the princess, the Knights of Hyrule, and the Four Swords, no one else could understand Shard.

Eventually, the pair reached the rooms of the Four Swords and began to search through the area, alarming Shard. It felt wrong that these strangers were poking around in the belongings of Shard’s family. The men even pocketed some of their findings, like the little pouches that held the shiny Rupees Shard liked to play with. Like the wary cat bristling its fur, the end of Shard’s cap floated upward and curled in the air as the boy’s anxiety increased. As silently as he could, he picked up his own sword and followed, and what he saw next made him freeze.

The men had stepped into Shadow’s room.

Shard peered around the door and let out a quiet gasp. The thieves were standing in front of the Dark Mirror! Well, a piece of it anyway - a piece that was only powerful enough to give Shadow a physical form once more, and more importantly...it was the piece of the mirror from which Shard himself came from.

“What’s this old thing?” one thief muttered.

“Might be some valuable artifact. Those accursed knights have magic weapons stuffed up who knows where, this might be one of them,” the other replied. The man reached forward and touched the mirror piece…and shouted in pain as Shard had given his shin a mighty blow with his own sword. The wooden sword, more like a toy than anything else, broke into splinters from the blow. Shard had felt such a sharp stab of fear that he swung the weapon with more force than he had ever done.

No one must touch the Dark Mirror!

“Wh-what’s this...freak!?” the thief gasped, staring in shock at Shard’s odd features. Shard bared his teeth and hissed - something deep inside him told him that he had to do something, anything, just to keep strangers away from the Dark Mirror.

“Quit standing there and grab that brat!” the thief that Shard had struck bellowed this as he hopped about in pain.

“N-no way! It’s a monster, can’t you see?” the other gulped, frightened at Shard’s teeth (which happened to be pointy).

“Don’t be fooled, that brat is just some weird kid! He just surprised me, that’s all,” the thief said. Shard jumped back as the thief aimed a kick at him.

“Come on - get him!”

And so Shard backed away as the two men chased after him, leading them out of the room, and away from the Dark Mirror, which was all that mattered.

It was at this moment that there was a sound of horns in the Castle - the main gates were being opened, which could only mean one thing.

“Oh no! We’re too late, the Four Swords are back!” one of the thieves gasped. Shard knew that sound well and looked in the direction of the main gates with a smile on his face.

Unfortunately, the thief saw the boy’s attention waver, and with a lunge he grabbed Shard by the neck and held him up. Shard gasped and struggled to escape the hold, but he was a child against a grown man. He looked into the face of the raging thief and tried not to cower from the fury he could see in the man’s eyes.

“The others promised they’d keep those brats busy until nightfall! We wasted too much time getting lost - and then this kid - !”

A sharp smack echoed in the empty room, and Shard’s head turned limply toward his side. Dizzy from the blow, the boy could barely comprehend what was going on, unaware that the thieves now had a dilemma.

“Oi, leave that kid alone! They’ll know something’s up when they see him injured!” the more cowardly of the thieves said, wincing on seeing how limp Shard was.

“I don’t care! We gotta get out of here somehow - and this kid here can be our ticket,” the other thief said.

“You mean -”

“I’ll take him hostage, you dimwit! Now, come on,” the other thief said, and spotting an empty sack in the room, he stuffed Shard into it and swung it over his shoulder, carrying Shard as if he was merely a bag of grains rather than an injured child. Ignoring his partner’s complaints, the thief hurried out, and after a moment, his partner followed.

~~~~~~

Zelda hurried down to the Castle Gates, and saw a welcoming throng of Castle soldiers blocking the path of the Four Swords. None of the knights looked too injured, which was a relief, and while they conversed with the soldiers politely enough Zelda could see they were getting antsy. Shadow in particular kept looking around, the floating end of his cap twitching like the tail of an impatient cat. The princess stuck up her hand and waved, and the soldiers nearest to her hastily cleared a path.

On seeing her, Green came forward. “Hello, princess!”

“Thank goodness you’re all back,” Zelda said.

“Why, is anything wrong?” Green asked, getting down from his horse.

“Well...I can’t seem to find Shard anywhere. I expected he would be at the tower window waiting for your return, but he wasn’t there when I was on my way,” Zelda said.

Green frowned - it wasn’t like Shard to miss their return. Sensing his worry, the other four followed.

“Zelda hasn’t seen Shard,” Green said.

“I asked the staff on my way here, but you know how Shard is, he likes to keep himself hidden,” Zelda said.

“Well, let’s start with our rooms, he might have taken a nap there or something,” Blue suggested.

“Alright. Green, help me take the horses?” Red said. Green nodded, and so the group separated.

Zelda, Shadow, Vio and Blue hastily made their way to the Four Swords’ quarters, with Shadow arriving first.

“Someone’s been here,” Shadow observed - the doors were open and some of their stuff was out of order.

“Shadow, wait -” Vio said, but Shadow had already darted into his room. There was a gasp, and Blue found himself drawing his sword and sprinting in.

Shadow was looking at a pile of wood splinters on the floor. “This is Shard’s sword!” Shadow said, looking up at Blue.

“He must have seen someone here, a stranger…” Blue speculated.

“....and if they were this close to the Dark Mirror he would have attacked them - but where is he now? And who would have come here?” Shadow said.

“Thieves! Look, our wallets have been taken,” Vio said.

“Did they also take…” Blue said, gripping his sword tightly. Shadow paled as he realized what other precious thing might have been taken.

Just then, a servant came up to the door of the room, all out of breath. “Princess, we appear to be missing several items of interest throughout the Castle!” the servant reported.

“Oh, no - have the wall guards been alerted?” Zelda asked.

“Yes, your Highness - we’ve sent soldiers to every entrance and exit,” the servant said.

“We have to go too! They might have taken Shard with them,” Shadow said.

Zelda nodded. “Let’s go together - surely with all of us we’ll be able to find him!”

~~~~~~

“I sure hope Shard is alright,” Red said.

“Shard’s not the sort to get into trouble, he’ll be okay,” Green said. Red nodded, but he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. It was a relief to be able to put the horses in the care of the stable hands and start going back.

But as the pair was walking, some soldiers came up. “Sir Li - er, Green, and Red, we have reports that there might have been thieves inside the castle,” one of the soldiers said.

“Some items were reported missing by some castle staff, and there were reports of unfamiliar men being seen sometime during the day. The princess has been informed,” another soldier added.

“Alright - thanks for informing us,” Green said. Red gasped and came forward.

“Wait - has anyone seen Shard by this time?” Red asked.

“Er, no - no one has seen him,” the first soldier said.

“Green! What if Shard had run into those thieves?” Red said.

Green frowned. Surely, with a Castle as big as this, there was little to no chance of some thieves running into a boy…but he couldn’t help but feel anxious as well.

“We’ll just have to find him and make sure he’s okay. Soldiers, please keep an eye out for Shard too,” Green said. The soldiers nodded and went on their patrol. The two knights also went on, praying that no harm had come to Shard.

~~~~~

It had not been a good day for the two thieves - first, getting lost in the castle and only being able to swipe a few trinkets here and there, and they were even unable to sabotage the Four Swords in any way. And now they were skulking by the back of the kitchen, dismayed to see soldiers running about and raising an alarm.

“Told you we should have left them treasures alone until we were about to leave,” the cowardly thief mumbled.

“Aw, shut it! That won’t help us now,” his companion said. Even with a hostage he wasn’t feeling sure of their chances against the whole of the Castle.

Running around the kitchens were various servants and soldiers - but also a cat, who was mystified by the frantic mass of people. The cat sat well out of the way, flicking its tail in disappointment as it found no leftovers in the area. There was however, the scent of something familiar…

The cat looked around, smelling the scent of the strange boy with blank eyes. The cat had been around the castle long enough to know that the boy was like a sweet little kitten, of no danger to anyone - but with no claws to defend himself, too.

Curious, the cat followed the boy’s scent, and found it led to a sack hanging over a strange man’s shoulder. The cat did not like the look of the man - he seemed like the type to give cats a good kick if they were in the way - and the kitten-boy was surely not safe in his hands.

The cat ran towards the thief while screeching, startling the man and causing him to jump out of hiding. The noise attracted the attention of some soldiers, who quickly noted the man’s suspicious looks.

“Halt! You there!”

Before the thief could think of some way to talk out of the situation, his high-strung companion gasped, “We’ve been found!”

Which is really not the best thing to say in that situation.

The thieves looked around and found a group of soldiers coming close. With a grunt, the thief drew Shard out of the sack and held him up, causing the watching staff to gasp in dismay. Shard, who had recovered somewhat, struggled and kicked out his feet, but was helpless to do anything.

“Get back! We have a hostage and I will hurt him if you get too close!” the thief shouted, shaking Shard. The soldiers lowered their weapons in uncertainty - no one wanted to see Shard hurt. Even the cat stayed still, though it hissed in defiance all the same.

“Let go of that child,” one of the soldiers said.

“Not until we’re free of this castle - make one wrong move, and…” the thief drew a dagger. The soldiers looked among each other - they couldn’t risk harm to Shard.

“Send for the Four Swords,” one of the soldiers further away whispered to his companion, who nodded and quietly ran away.

“Alright, we’ll let you out,” one of the soldiers said with a scowl.

~~~~~~

Red and Green had just reunited with the princess when a soldier came running up. The soldier gritted his teeth and prepared to be the bearer of bad news. “Princess, sir knights! We’ve located the thieves, and they have a hostage with them!”

“Oh no,” Zelda gasped.

“Who is the hostage!?” Green asked.

“It’s the boy,” the soldier gulped, feeling very much like he’d rather be doing anything but deliver that piece of news.

“THEY HAVE SHARD!??” Shadow exploded, red eyes flaming.

“A-afraid so...the man holding him is refusing to let him go until they’re well free of the Castle,” the soldier said. Shadow tensed as if preparing to run over there, but Vio caught his arm.

“We can’t just rush in there and show our faces - if they get spooked, Shard might get hurt,” Vio said.

“But we can’t just stand here and do nothing!” Blue argued.

“No, we won’t - come on, plans, what can we do?” Green said.

“Well, first of all, what is the situation looking like right now?” Zelda asked the soldier.

“There’s only two of the thieves, but the man holding the hostage has a dagger and we’re certain he will use it,” the soldier reported, hoping to be useful. “Oh, and they were last seen in the back of the kitchen area, so perhaps they’ll be escorted out that way.”

“That’s the exit that leads out to the farm roads - if they get there, we’re gonna lose Shard. We have to hurry,” Green said.

“Oh! We might be able to jump them if we get ahead. The area just outside of that gate has plenty of cover,” Red said.

“Then we have to go, now!” Shadow said.

~~~~~~

Shard did his best to keep still, though he couldn’t help but hiss in anger at the situation. He hated being trapped! But he couldn’t get away either, with such a tight hold on him. But if the man’s grip shifted just enough....Shard knew he had to take a chance. He had some very pointy teeth and he was not scared to use them.

The thieves walked as fast as they could while warily looking out at the guards around them. Though all the soldiers had lowered their weapons, they didn’t put it past a quick archer to attempt to stop them. Busy with looking around at the surrounding soldiers, they failed to notice that Shard had turned his face forward. Shard could feel the presence of the people he loved best nearby, hidden, but close.

The thieves walked out of the castle’s gate and this caused the one holding Shard to relax a little. His grip also shifted, and that was all that Shard needed. Without wasting time, Shard chomped down, biting through the thief’s glove and drawing blood.

“Arrrgh - cursed freak!” the thief screamed unable to stop himself from flinging his hand - and Shard was launched into the air. He tumbled onto the ground and got up to run, crying out in his high-pitched voice as he did so.

“SHARD!” came the answering cry and within moments a boomerang flew out of the trees, smacking into the face of one thief and causing him to stumble. Red and Blue came out of the bushes, Fire Rod and Hammer at hand, and the cowardly thief gulped and cowered. Shadow darted forward and caught Shard in his arms as Green and Vio stepped out, a bow and a sword at ready.

Behind the thieves, Zelda directed the soldiers to cut off the path, and now the thieves realized they were at the mercy of five furious knights, a princess who was also looking like she’d strangle them, and a company of soldiers who did not like having someone threaten the security of the castle.

“We surrender!” the cowardly thief squeaked.

~~~~~~

Much as Shadow would have liked to personally deal with the two thieves he had something more important to handle at the moment. Shard was holding tightly onto him, his small hands gripping the fabric of his tunic..

“Shard, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Shadow asked. Shard pulled back and looked at Shadow’s face. To Shadow’s surprise, tears were falling from Shard’s eyes - crying from relief? He hoped that was the case, because if Shard had gotten hurt -

“How is Shard?” Vio asked, still holding his bow even as he kneeled down to check on Shard.

“He’s crying, I can’t tell if he might be hurt,” Shadow said. He gently brushed the hair that had fallen over Shard’s eyes, but as his fingers brushed against Shard’s cheek the boy hissed and pulled back a little.

“Did they hit you!?” Shadow said with murder in his voice - it was hard to tell, but it did seem that Shard’s cheek was swelling as if it has been struck.

“Let’s get him over to the infirmary to be sure,” Green said. Shadow tersely nodded and scooped Shard up, who then rested the uninjured side of his face on Shadow’s shoulder.

“Let us deal with this - you go on ahead,” Green said. Shadow nodded, and accompanied by Vio, they walked back to the castle, pausing to give Blue and Red a brief nod and say, “We have to get Shard checked out.”

As the three went past Zelda, Blue took a deep breath and asked, “Care to explain what you did to Shard?”

Red tapped the orb of the Fire Rod and made the instrument flicker with light for a moment, just as a small encouragement. The thieves gulped in fear and lost no time spilling their stories.

~~~~~~

Later that night, it was with much relief that the Four Swords found themselves settling down within their quarters. There were a few crazy hours as Shard was assessed and found to have a few bumps and bruises from his adventure and given first aid. The thieves were found to be working with the bandits that the Four Swords had dealt with earlier in the day - the bandits were a distraction to draw the knights away, but they didn’t count on the Four Swords being so efficient with their jobs and the supposed thieves to be so careless. But now the ruffians were rightly imprisoned, Shard was having a well-deserved sleep on Shadow’s bed, and the five knights were sitting close, wordlessly expressing that they wanted to be close to Shard.

When Zelda dropped in to check, she found them talking in low voices, but seeing her they gestured for her to sit among them. Zelda smiled and whispered, “Carry on,” before sitting down.

“Well, as I was saying, I don’t know if I can ever leave him alone like that again,” Shadow said.

“Oh...about that...I’m sorry, I should have watched over him,” Zelda said with a wince.

Green patted her hand. “It can’t be helped, you have your own duties to fulfill.”

“Don’t blame yourself, your Highness,” Red said.

“Very well,” Zelda sighed. She looked at each of their faces and said, “But only if you don’t blame yourselves for this incident.”

“Yeah...I’m just glad Shard is safe here, and that those two idiots didn’t succeed,” Green said.

“How is he?” Zelda asked.

“Exhausted. But it seems like he was only struck once in the face, and he has no other serious injuries” Vio said.

“It could be better, but it also could have been worse,” Blue said.

“I suppose at least one of us should stay behind and look after him if something like this happens again? Shard must have been so lonely,” Red said.

“We could try that, but we never know if we’ll need each other in full strength,” Vio said.

“Well...he did handle himself well today,” Shadow said, turning a fond smile onto Shard.

“He did, didn’t he? He’s a knight, just like us,” Green said.

“An excellent knight of Hyrule indeed,” Zelda agreed. She stood up to leave, “We should all take our rest. Good night, my heroes.”

~~~~~~

The next morning, Shard woke up to see his family sleeping around him - the best type of morning he could ask for. He smiled and turned closer to Shadow’s side, and within moments was sleeping peacefully once more.

Outside the room, a new wooden sword lay on the table, quietly delivered by a soldier earlier in the day. It was small, more like a child’s toy than a practice weapon, but all the same the royal crest was carved into its hilt, with tiny words written, “For a Knight of the Four Swords.”

Whew! This was meant to be a quick little thing but my brain decided to keep on going. If you finished this, thanks for reading and have a bonus full art of Zelda and Shard ^_^ Also please notify me if the formatting needs adjustment!

#four swords #four swords manga #four swords fanfic #zelda fanfiction #princess zelda #green layout #red link #blue link #vio #shadow link #zelda oc #shard

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