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beyondthebackup · 1 year

Text

On Curiosity, Killing & Cats

[illustration: @nnenteyn-new // telegram // bootsy]

Rating: E | Words: 4,502 | Pairing: BxL

@dnkinktober Prompt: Humiliation/Degradation (Day 7)

Summary:

A is dead, and Roger insists that allowing B to succeed as L is dangerous. The first generation of Wammy’s project is at an impasse and L is - was - curious.

Read on AO3 or under the cut. I hope you enjoy!

Author's Note:

This is technically my first attempt at fanfiction not written specifically for this rp blog. It's also my first time writing L and sharing any smut I've written publicly although I'll be honest, this ended up more plot-heavy than I anticipated and it's relatively tame compared to my private stuff.

All that said I want to thank @ourflagmeansdeathnote @dykelawlight @lightyaoigami @neallo and @brothercrush for being fantastic writers/artists themselves and inspiring me to put myself out there! (And all the other great creators in the dn fandom, I will look desperate and uncool if I tag all of you)

This is an uncomfortably long stretch of silence, even for L.

He observes Backup through the cracks of his sugar-dusted fingers as he busies himself with an assortment of pastries on a serving cart, inspecting and then devouring each with the practiced efficiency of an assembly line.

Honestly, L expected him to say something first.

Backup's file describes him as 'extroverted, energetic and talkative', but he hasn't spoken. He is maintaining eye contact. A little too well, actually. Paired with that flat expression, it's all a bit disconcerting...though L is not entirely unaware that others might think similarly of him.

L gulps down a mouthful of frosting and pushes the cart toward B, who is seated on the other side of Roger’s desk.

"Would you like some?" he asks, mid-chew.

Backup does not break eye contact, but he does finally speak.

"Why are you here?"

His tone is light and mildly curious, as if L were an acquaintance he bumped into at the grocery store.

L could ask himself that very same question. He did not have to be here, he did not particularly want to be here, yet he had indeed chosen to be here.

"These are extenuating circumstances."

B tilts his head. "You mean now that A's dead?"

Straight to the point.

Still, Backup’s flippant attitude does little to remedy the atmosphere.

A, the first child taken into Wammy’s House, has committed suicide at the tender age of 18.

L is not much older than them, and yet…

"Now that you are next in line to take over as L in the event of my death," he clarified.

"There is some debate about whether or not that should remain the case."

Backup is quick to open his mouth, although he doesn't seem all that surprised - before he can start, L lifts a manila folder pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

"I read your file."

B averts his eyes with a pout. "Oh, that…"

"…Well, it makes sense you'd want a well-behaved successor. The whole point of being a detective is to lock up people that break the rules, after all."

L shifts in his seat and wedges his thumb into the corner of his mouth.

It's a ridiculous oversimplification - Backup can't be serious, so is he…mocking him?

"…Is that the point?"

"I dunno, I'm not a detective. You tell me. Is it acceptable for L to break the rules?"

Yes, B is definitely mocking him…but with enough subtext to pique L's interest.

"That depends. Wammy's House is Watari's project, not mine. Breaking the rules here does not necessarily mean anything to me."

"What?" Backup scoffs, more animated all of a sudden. "Shouldn't you take being L a little more seriously? Isn't it your choice who succeeds you in the end?"

"Watari has requested that I make the final decision, yes."

B's eyes narrow.

"No one here can beat me. They would've done it by now."

"That does appear to be the case."

"Then what? Aren't you going to tell me that I can't be L if I don't behave?"

So he was expecting this.

The truth is, L still isn't sure why he's here. He hasn't made a decision, and interacting with B so far has only left him all the more unsure.

What is he going to tell Backup?

Pondering this, L reaches for a small dish of ice cream. He is deep enough in thought that he doesn't notice B finally breaking eye contact to follow the movement of his hands.

He does not notice B's patience fraying, the thinness of his veneer as he watches him nurse the cold off his teaspoon.

"…Do you still expect me to prove myself to you?" he asks quietly.

Now, there is no mistaking it. Resentment hangs from every word.

"Do you want me to grovel?"

L pulls the spoon from his mouth and meets Backup's eyes again, brow furrowed and stern.

"No. This isn't about me."

That's when L sees B smile for the very time.

If you could call it that - his upper lip twitching suddenly with disbelief, parting to reveal the beginning of something toothy and joyless.

"Bullshit,"

"A's dead because of you, you know."

A is dead because of you.

L swatted away that very same thought the day he got the news. He dismissed it because he knew it was illogical, and here Backup is actually saying it to his face. It's absurd, and L allows that to show on his face.

B is undeterred, however. He drags his chair closer to Roger's desk, plants his elbows on the surface and leans in close, eyes widening to take in the moment with full clarity.

"You don't believe me? Do you think people kill themselves for no reason? He's dead because he wasted his entire life trying to become you and failed. Do you think it's fun here, L? Is it even fun being you?"

L likes to think he is not so easily provoked, but if this is Backup's goal, he has succeeded. L did not come here to evaluate the efficacy or ethics of Watari's program, especially not at the behest of someone who is so obviously trying to get a rise out of him.

"What is it that you want from me, Backup?"

"What do I want?"

"You aren't trying to convince me that you should be my successor. If that isn't what you want, should we end the conversation?"

L is curt, but resists the temptation to be overly passive-aggressive. He understands the power dynamic - there is no need to stoop to Backup's level here. This is enough.

Dishes clatter, pastries hit the floor and in seconds Backup has vaulted over the desk and is upon him, seizing his throat with both hands.

Perhaps even more startling than the abruptness of B's attack is its sheer ferocity. L's gasp is cut off as B presses both thumbs into his neck, just above the windpipe. His grip tightens steadily and L feels a rush of genuine fear.

This is not a mere moment of blind rage because a moment has passed, and the look on B’s face is in fact indiscernible to L. Those dark eyes fixate on his and betray nothing but resolve.

He is in danger.

L grabs at his forearms, clawing into them to little effect. He cannot speak, and even if he could-

He asked Roger not to interfere with their meeting.

L is here out of curiosity.

Curiosity and perhaps, deep down, a small (and obviously misguided) sense of responsibility for this place and the orphans raised in it.

Honestly, he prefers not to think about it much.

But A is dead, and Roger insists that allowing B to succeed as L is dangerous.

The first generation of Wammy’s project is at an impasse and L is - was - curious.

It's not that he never considered the possibility of an outburst. That would be understandable, warranted even. L asked Roger not to interfere with this meeting because if B had something to say to him, he wanted to hear it.

But this is different.

L struggles and B draws closer, forcing him to shrink back, sink deeper into Roger's leather armchair. It wounds his ego to be caught so off guard, but L can't even remember the last time he was touched by someone other than Watari.

He spends much of his time isolated from others, and even when he isn't, no one would dare violate his personal space like this.

It isn't just the violence that is alien, the danger, but his touch, and L finds himself paralyzed by it all. Frozen by the fact that B is smiling again, and this time, he seems genuinely happy.

"This is what I want, L," Backup sighs. "That look on your face."

Dread settles into the pit in L's chest and he steels himself to kick at B as hard as he can. It takes more than a few attempts to knock him off balance, but he manages, and with some distance between them, L scrambles out of the armchair.

B is fast, L is flexible, B is strong, L is stubborn.

As B grabs L by the hem of his shirt, L turns to take another swing at him, and in the fray the two of them are sent tumbling to the ground.

So begins the undignified floor wrestling match between two young geniuses.

...Unfortunately, it appears B is the better of the two at wrestling.

L manages to knock the breath out of B more than once, but it makes little difference. He finds himself pinned underneath Backup's oppressive weight while he snickers like a child at play.

"Shhh...relax. Relax! Just stay there! Stay there. I realized something important. I won't hurt you. Calm down. Listen."

"What, Backup?" L snaps as he drops his hands, exasperated.

B grins impishly at him.

"You're a disappointment!"

L stares at Backup in utter disbelief.

"Me?"

"Now that I've met you, I know my entire life has been a waste of time!"

L's stomach drops as he assures himself these are only provocations. Why else would Backup be so gratingly cheerful about it?

"I wasted it trying to become you. A died trying to become you.

But you're just a loser! Another worthless human being! You're weak, you're pathetic, and worst of all, you're boring!

World's Greatest Detective. You!? Are you serious!? Look at you!!"

L stiffens and braces himself to shove B off. He doesn't need to listen to this, Backup is obviously the kind of person that takes pleasure in spite, this is fun for him, this is a waste of time-

"A was better than you, you know," he goes on, voice dripping with contempt. "I actually respected him. I bet everyone was hoping you would die so he could replace you. Too bad."

Backup lowers himself down onto his elbows and cups his hands around L’s face, relishing in it when he feels him flinch.

How many people have seen L like this?

His sneer has vanished. L does not move - he is fighting panic, fighting his racing heart and the goosebumps dotting his skin, he is fighting the confusion that follows the intimacy of skin-on-skin poisoned by the malice on B's tongue.

B's heartbeat is equally frantic, but it doesn't show on his face. L is not nearly as skilled as B in this regard and finds himself all too conscious of his own labored breathing.

"You were my entire life," he says. “I spent all this time waiting for you, thinking of you...only for you to be like this. A died because he wasn't good enough. And now you're here to tell me I’m not good enough."

"No."

"Do you think your life is worth more than all of our lives combined?"

"I never said that."

"You said this isn't about you, but that's not true, is it?

My life has always been about you. A's, too. You're the reason why this place exists. Why I exist.

I exist because you're not good enough, either.

No matter how many cases you solve, you're no different from me. You're a tool. An object. You exist to be used.

That's why you're what...20? And Watari already has an entire orphanage of kids ready to take your place when you die! He doesn't believe in you either."

"That's enough," L cannot take it anymore, he cannot listen to another second of this, he cannot spend another moment on this floor pinned under him, being touched by him, his skin is crawling and he cannot breathe and the air is hot and his stomach is tight and he feels his heartbeat in all the wrong places.

L wills himself to snap out of it, he needs to get B off of him before-

Abruptly, B sits up and directly on top of

"-!? Do you have an erection!?"

B exclaims as if he doesn't know the meaning of the word and all the color drains from L's face.

Do not dignify that with a response. It is involuntary and nothing to be ashamed of.

"Is this turning you on?"

"No."

B bursts into a fit of cruel laughter and L only tenses underneath him, awash with humiliation. L does not often care what others think of him, but he has never felt like this before, so utterly degraded by someone who should respect him, and he's laughing at him, at his- why does he have an erection?

"No?" B echoes. "What's this?" Sliding easily down his thighs, L jerks back from his hand when he feels it rest on the crotch of his jeans.

"I knew it! You're a pervert!"

"And what does that make you, exactly?" L hits back.

"This isn't about me," B draws out L's own line. "Why are you so easy, anyway...? Oh! I get it - I bet no one's ever touched you, besides that disgusting old man. Why would they?"

It's amazing how that talkativeness of his rears its ugly head in a situation like this.

"You're a virgin, aren't you? You're probably touch starved...even though you're older than me and rich and everything. Aww, it must be so lonely being L!"

“Get off of me," L hisses.

"You sure that's what you want?"

With a sharp exhale through his nose, L squeezes his eyes shut for a moment...for just a single moment of peace. He needs to think, he needs to move, and he needs to never admit that B is right and he isn't sure if that's what he wants, because he is excited by this.

He doesn't have the time to intellectualize it. He can break his rule and call for Roger. He can shove B off of him. He can stop this, he could've avoided this entirely had he smothered that curiosity, taken the file at its word and never met one of his so-called successors.

L can feel B's gaze burning through him, but at least he's not talking in that perpetually amused voice and at least he can't see that sadistic excuse for a smile. There is something wrong with B and there is something wrong with him for feeling like this is the first time in a long time someone has managed to surprise or challenge him.

He doesn't have the time to intellectualize it and therefore doesn't have time to convince himself that this is wrong.

It is wrong that he feels relief when B does not wait for him to answer and dips his slender fingers past the waistband of his jeans. Again, he only rests his hand against L's growing arousal. He does not provide any friction, does not move.

It takes all of L's willpower to fight an upward twitch of his hips, the weight and warmth of Backup's touch promising pleasure and yet refusing to follow through.

"Oh, L..." B hums. "You are just a man, after all."

The World's Greatest detective pinned underneath him, shirt inched up past his navel in the fray, so clearly out of his depth. And it was easy. So fucking easy.

"Is this the one thing Watari won't do for you?"

B delights in watching the pink flush crawl up the back of L's neck to his cheekbones, that jaw set so tight he just knows he is gritting his teeth. He can't even look at him, turning his head to the side as if B would ever let him off that easy.

"Look at me," B says sweetly.

L does not.

"I said, look at me," B grabs L by the chin and forces him face forward. He suddenly takes L's clothed erection into a light grip, wringing a quiet gasp out of him. The detective's eyes snap open to glare at Backup with equal parts resentment and desperation, filling B with a deep and twisted satisfaction. He knows that look all too well.

"Do you hate me, L?" he asks, eyes softening with something resembling infatuation. It makes L all the more confused and uncomfortable and frustrated that B will not just get this over with.

Over the course of this conversation, L has learned at least one thing about Backup. Responding in the affirmative is likely what he wants.

This whole thing must have been to get a rise out of him, and L is playing right into his hands.

Because he's...enjoying it.

"I have no reason to hate you, Backup. I have no reason to feel any particular way about you at all,"

His assumption is proved correct when B immediately digs his nails into L's jaw.

"Your dick disagrees."

"It's involuntary."

B's grip on L's erection slacks again. "You don't want me to touch you?"

L's glare darkens.

"Say it."

L curls his toes, wondering if it would be enough to clamp his thighs around B's hand or if his aim all this time really was for L to discard his dignity. Resisting B is an uncomfortable, laborious, painful experience...but would sacrificing his dignity, his better judgement for a single moment of carnal satisfaction be worse?

I want you to touch me.

L tries the sentence out in his mind and it makes him wince. He's imagining B's grin splitting wide again, that sharp laugh, and the way his cock will throb when the humiliation sinks in. He imagines Backup following through, apparently capable of giving him the release that he has never been interested in seeking out until now.

This has awakened something in him. The wrongness of it all is what makes L want it, and he isn't sure if anything will ever feel quite this wrong again.

What's that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

L will never see this cat again. Not ever.

Does it really matter if he makes a mistake now?

L sucks in air through his teeth and finally, recklessly relents.

"I want you to touch me," he mumbles with just enough conviction as to not feel entirely pathetic, to allow himself some illusion that he is in fact in control.

"...You fucking pervert," B giggles. "I didn't actually think you'd say it. You're shameless, that's so gross..."

Even so, it seems to do the trick. B massages him slowly through his underwear, free hand finally releasing his jaw to take a fistful of L's hair and yank his head back.

"I'm barely 18, what is wrong with you?"

"That's not-!"

"Shut up," B palms him with more intention. He can feel L twitching around his fingers as he pulls the fabric around his length, pleasures him with the barrier that exists between him and what he actually wants.

"Hhn-" With all pretext shattered, L slowly lets go. This friction is not nearly enough or he wouldn't be squirming like this, chewing down on his tongue wishing Backup would just get on with it already.

"Aren't there cameras in here? What will the old man think of you?"

"Just get on with it..." L sighs with marked frustration.

"I was trying to give you plausible deniability by only going this far. You'll have to say please if you want me to actually touch the hard-on you got from being degraded by me."

"You are ridiculous," L seethes.

Plausible deniability. Right.

"I assure you I'm quite serious. Having your successor get you off is going to be your fault."

"My fault? I'm not the one who started this."

"You're going to blame me? Even when our power dynamic is like this? You're not a good person at all, L. You can't take responsibility for anything."

Another ragged sigh interrupts L's retort as B gropes his cock, offering him delicious pressure and friction but refusing to give up on the tease...until he feels a wet spot growing, at least.

B wets his lip with his tongue. "I don't think I even have to go any farther. Treating you like the garbage you are and just a little bit of attention is all it takes."

"Please," L forces out.

"Please what?"

"More. Please just...touch me more."

"It's not enough?"

"No."

"Okay, I'll do what you say. I'm obsessed with you after all."

True to his word, Backup releases L and pulls his jeans and underwear down past his hips, exposing L's straining, leaking cock for the both of them to see.

"You just said that I was worthless."

"You are. I hate you more than anything, and nothing would make me happier than watching you suffer. That's the kind of person that's going to get you off for the first time, L. And I'm doing it not because I want you back, but because I know you'll never forget it..."

B finally wraps his hand around L's erection and of course he is lying about not wanting it, he wants this desperately, he is coming undone inside in ways that L could never imagine, because he does not know him.

He has nothing to do with him.

Hatred, lust and love are not all that different after all.

L tries to quiet his mind, to avoid internalizing anything B is saying. For whatever reason being spoken to like this and treated like this is the most arousing thing L has ever personally experienced, and he should treat this as something being done in service of him.

That's what it really is. It has to be.

At the end of the day, no matter what B said, he would still be B and L would still be L.

B leans in close, still stroking L all too slowly, too lightly, and yet it is enough to force unsightly little mewls from L's lips. He shudders when he feels Backup's lips pressed against the shell of his ear.

"I want you to remember this feeling, L," he whispers.

L swallows hard and bucks up to meet B's movements.

"I want you to remember how desperate and helpless and low you feel right now, and I want you to remember it was me that made you feel this way."

The friction is maddening. So simple and yet so intense. L feels his inner voice quieting, fading, he feels dangerously human, dangerously like simple flesh, like B said, just a man...not the world's greatest anything.

"No one is ever going to care about you as much as I do. I thought of you constantly for ten years. Yet now that I know you...I despise you."

L is panting as B fists his cock, speaking with such vitriol as to be certain L could not fool himself into thinking it was an act.

"I despise you so much. You make me sick. And you're getting off on that? Off on my misery..."

"N-no-"

"You are. I know because I got off on A's misery, and I'm getting off on yours, too. I know exactly the kind of person you are.

Depraved. Disgusting. Fucked in the head. You hide behind your title and the law so no one ever finds out you're just a pathetic fucking cock-sucking degenerate that would be better off dead!"

L groans deeply and hates himself for it. He doesn't understand himself, he doesn't understand this, why every word is pulsing through L's hips like lightning, why it feels so good to be reduced to this when most of his life, his efforts only earned him universal praise.

"What would Watari think if he saw you right now, L? He'd be so disappointed in you. Why would you do something like this? It's inappropriate, it's dangerous, you were warned, right? Don't you know better?"

"Stop...stop saying his name..."

"Don't you know better, L? Say it."

"I-I know better..."

"So why are you doing this?"

"I...don't know-!" L cries out in frustration, moans rolling out of him in choked out intervals. The pleasure is piercing him, becoming unbearable, mutating into something frightening, something about to burst.

"Tell me why!" B demands, releasing L altogether. At this stage, he can't bear it, and the levy breaks.

"Because I'm a pervert! I'm disgusting and I'm pathetic and I want you to touch me, you're right about me, B! You're right..." L whines. "Please don't stop, I can't take it anymore..."

This wipes the smile off B's face which makes it all the more painful...he is staring at L incredulously and for the first time L becomes aware that B is also panting, his skin is just as hot.

He presses his forehead against L's and stares at him in silence for a few beats. It drives a vicious chill up his spine and he knows, deep deep down,

even if he never saw B again,

he's made a terrible mistake.

"I'll never let you forget about me, L."

And so he reaches back between L's thighs for the final time with no intention of holding back.

L jerks under him, thighs trembling as B swirls his thumb over his sensitive head.

"Keep your eyes open, slut."

Even as his mouth hangs open, moaning freely to keep B from becoming restless enough to return to his teasing, it's not enough.

Backup is so focused on him, so unwilling to look away that L is forced to endure the intimacy of sustained eye contact while he is this vulnerable. He feels stripped bare, like Backup is staring right through him.

No one should see him so unguarded, especially never someone like him, yet he obeys, he obeys and lets B see everything, his drawn-out groans as his orgasm creeps up on him, the drool beading at the corner of his mouth, the hopeless lust in his tired eyes.

He feels humiliated. Degraded. Disgusting. But most of all, he feels alive.

All thoughts cease as L arches his back and white hot satisfaction washes over his entire body. He reaches for B's forearms, gripping onto him as he cums hard all over his hand, an undignified mess left behind on the both of them, proof that it happened.

Undeniable.

B lets out a shaky breath and watches L sink into the floor with wide eyes. The memory and the image burning into his psyche where it would never leave him. Where it strengthened his result to become a murderer

and destroy L.

L would never forget this feeling, but neither would B.

With A dead, his new purpose in life is clear.

He will be the one to make L grovel.

B is still lost in thought when L reluctantly opens his eyes to face the aftermath. Luckily for him, B is not looking back at him but at his own hand.

L is confused until Backup sticks his cum-covered fingers into his mouth and begins to suck them clean-

No. L has to get out of here right now before this gets any worse.

Fine, Backup. You win.

I'll break my rule.

"Roger!!!" L shouts at the top of his lungs.

#dnkinktober #beyondlaw #bxl #lxb #bbll #beyond birthday #fanfic #my writing #smut #ao3 #death note #l lawliet

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lskisms · 1 year

Note

1 + 4 w sydney adamu ? maybe reader says one of the prompts n then a bit later syd says the other one ? also pretty pleaseeee some kissing n a lil domesticity ? been going insane abt syd since i first saw her ,,,

(stop) messing around, s. adamu

syn. there's been a little laundry mishap between you and your roommate... who you may or may not have a little crush on. (who can blame you?)

gen. romance.

warnings. lapslock intended, sapphic realness once again.

word count. 0.6k.

note. "been going insane about syd since i first saw her" TRUST me too omg... title taken from bibi's "let's be honest" and prompts from this list. also thank you for being my first request omg..

it is… far too early to be feeling the way you do right now: blood hot chocolate warm under your skin and your insides going gooey and soft like marshmallow. you're got a long day of studying and work ahead of you, leading to your early wake up time, but now there's a part of you that wishes you'd slept in like you normally do because this is way too much. sydney, your roommate, is making a breakfast of omelettes and hashbrowns, which isn't so normal, but she's doing it wearing your sweats.

"good morning!" she chirps when she turns to put dirty dishes in the sink, noticing you standing in the walkway.

"are those… are you wearing my sweatpants?" you ask, trying to maintain your composure.

after a long stint of bad roommates, sydney was a gift: funny, compassionate, and clean. since she'd moved in, you'd enjoyed waking up to her making breakfast and the brightness she brought into the apartment. it was only a matter of time, really, before you caught feelings for her. and now that you have, you've been finding it increasingly difficult to ignore them in favor of keeping a platonic living space.

syd looks down at herself, still cradling the dirty dishes in her hands. when she looks back up at you, her mouth opens and closes in nervousness, stuttering. "uh… y-yeah, i guess they are. they must have accidentally ended up in my… laundry… i'm sorry-" you throw out your hands, shaking your head. "no, it's totally fine! just an accident. not a big deal at all." she looks at you all wide eyed, still floundering, but eventually, she closes her mouth and nods. she goes back to making breakfast and sets the table, serving you your food. halfway through her omelette, she looks up at you and her fork pauses just a few inches from her mouth.

"that's my shirt!"

you stop chewing and look up at her, your turn for your eyes to widen. you raise a free hand to cover your mouth and you ask, "what?"

she gestures at you and the shirt you're wearing. "you're wearing my shirt."

you look down at yourself and sure enough, you're wearing one of her graphic tees. what a strange laundry mix up, you think.

"it must have ended up in my laundry too…"

the two of you look at each other and after a few moments of silence, you start giggling over your meals. when she softly kicks your shin under the table, you laugh harder. you spend the rest of breakfast sharing a laugh and chatting about your plans for the day.

with breakfast over, the two of you stand at the sink, a typical routine in your household. except this time, while she washes and you dry and put away, your hips and shoulders bump together in a way that is far more than platonic. eventually, the dishes are clean and in their proper places, and you look over at syd, only to find her looking at you already. she glances from your lips back up to your eyes and you can't wait anymore. you lean in hesitantly, trying to anticipate how she feels about this, but she closes the gap before you do, her lips soft against your own and her fingers brushing against your waist. it's perfect and beautiful and everything you've ever dream about your first kiss with her being.

when she breaks it, the two of you stare at each other for a long few moments and then start laughing again.

"took us long enough," she says, shaking her head.

"you think the washer and dryer were plotting this?"

"oh! for sure."

#sydney x reader #sydney adamu x reader #syd x reader #syd adamu x reader #the bear x reader #.fic #.thebear

141 notes · View notes

muttkaa · 4 months

Note

For prompts, could I please request some domestic MegAnna fluff? Pls & ty 🙏🏼

But of course!

------

It had been a long while since the Entity had awoken. At first it was slow, people noticing they were getting pulled into fewer and fewer trials. Then it all just...stopped. Gone. No trials. Not for a loooong time.

It was almost like a miracle.

Maybe it died. Maybe it finally choked on its own food and finally died from these repeated games. Whatever happened, they were happy and it can stay dead.

---

Deep and heavy breathing rose from a large woman in bed. Her dark brown hair messy and cowlicked from the wondrous sleep she was getting. No longer living in fear. No longer working to serve some malicious force. Her body stirred a moment, feeling fingertips dance across her scalp. Instinctively she pressed deeper into the touch, only to have a melodic giggle pull her from her sleep.

She blinked away the blur spots, letting the room came back into focus. And the first thing she was greeted with was a beautiful redhead, that only gave her a gentle smile as she continued to massage her fingers through the other's hair.

"Good morning"

Anna stared at her a moment, a delicate smile touching her lips as she closed her eyes again, melting into the other's touch.

"Good morning" she repeated. "When did you wake up?"

"Just a little bit ago. But you were so cute, I couldn't leave"

A small laugh escaped the Russian, pushing herself off the bed to sit up. The blanket slowly dropped from her body; the runner unable to not steal a glance at the tightly muscled skin below.

"What would you like to eat? I think we still have a lot of vegetables from the garden"

Anna slowly maneuvered her way to the edge of the bed, placing firm feet against the wooden for to raise into a stand. Meg followed her action, standing as well.

"Hm... Maybe some bread and jam? I can take out the dried venison too, we can experiment with it. Oh! And some green onion over it~"

The Huntress kept her eyes on her lover as she dressed herself for the day. Her mind and heart captivated day by day as she gets to spend the rest of her life with this woman. Even here, in the Entity's realm, an eternity with her little fox felt like paradise on earth.

The coarse white shirt slipped over her body, then came the worn leather belt and suspenders to keep her pants up. However, as went to go and clasp them, small dainty hands snaked their way around her waist from behind, fastening the clasp easily.

"I am always surprised by how quiet you can be" the older woman turned around, facing her smiling fox with her own charming face. A face the redhead could never resist.

Her small arms wrapped around the others waist, keeping her close as they swayed in place.

"That's why I'm the best~"

A laughed escaped the Huntress, leaning down to press a kiss to the other woman's forehead.

"Always the best."

---

"What game did you say this was again?" her brows furrowed, staring at the bit of parchment between them.

"Tic tac toe. A game from my time"

"Teec tac tooe" the woman chewed over the words in her thick accent, only illiciting a giggle that strummed her heart so wonderfully.

She watched as Meg drew four lines into the paper, and placing an 'X' in the upper right hand corner.

"Now you draw an 'O' in one of the other boxes. The first one to get three in a row wins.

"Ah, strategy game?" she loved strategy games.

"Sure~ a small one"

Brown eyes found the paper once more, her large hand taking the pencil from Meg's to draw an 'O' in the opposite corner. They sat together on the wooden table The Huntress has built in another life. Daylight pouring in from the windows as the two sipped on tea and munched on the delicacies in front of them.

It was easier to find and make food now, now that they weren't fighting for their lives. And with the Entity gone, it seemed that life also breathed into the land. The forest no longer showered in a constant downpour of rain. It saw all four seasons, awakening from a deep sleep.

Today, the sun was bright, the breeze was cool, and the two savored the jam they spent the winter making together.

After a bit of back and forth, Anna tilted her head a moment, circling another O under her other two.

"Ah nice! You won"

"I did?"

"Yes, see? Three in a row~"

Oh, she did see now. It made her smile. She liked this game. Her hands roughly drew another battlespace for them, drawing the same four lines she saw Meg do earlier as the two played again.

---

It was quiet the lazy afternoon. With such beautiful weather, there was no need for the constant hauling and cutting of wood. When the weather got like this, the couple found themselves with idle time just for them. And often times, they used it exactly the way it needed to be, after so long of pain and torment.

Meg rested her body against the larger one of her lover as the two swung delicately in a hammock between two trees. The breeze tickled her hair. She reached up, drawing invisible shapes against the Russian's chest, eyes half lidded in a content and cozy smile.

Anna slowly opened her eyes from their rest, turning her attention to the redhead. Seeing the smile made her crack one of her own.

"What?"

"You're beautiful" Meg reached her hands up, gently letting her fingertips drag against her lover's defined jawline.

Anna closed her eyes once more, leaning into the touch.

"Not as beautiful as you"

The runner only rolled her eyes, shimmying up further to nuzzle her neck into her beautiful lover, and to drink her scent.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm"

It was Anna's turn to raise her hand now. Callouses that once adorned her palm from the hardship of life slowly fading away. She cupped Meg's cheek, rubbing a scarred thumb across the soft and smooth skin.

"So beautiful."

The Huntress' gaze softened, her thumb slowly running over the other's lips, parting them slightly. She watched at her lover closed her eyes, pressing further into her.

"I love your lips. So pink" her thumb traveled across her jawline.

"I love your face, and the spots they have. Like leopard." the softened thumb slowly dragged down her neck and jugular, making Meg shiver against her.

"I love the shape of you, the way your neck connects here to your shoulder. To the collarbone, to here" she placed her large place in the center of Meg's chest plate, feeling her heart beat against the ribcage. Anna also took note of its rapid pace, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Dark eyes lowered, resting them against the face of the woman she loved so much. She was met with bright blue eyes, staring up at her fascinated, and a soft pink blush that decorated along the spotted face she loved dearly.

The blue gaze made her freeze in place. Like a deer. Not many things could captivate her, but her lover's eyes was one of them. So bright. So alluring. So memorizing. She couldn't have looked away even if her life depended on it.

Meg was the one to break the spell, shyly tucking her face against the Russian's neck. Her heart rattled in her ribcage from the sweet nothings she was given. No one had ever made her feel this special. And it was funny to think. She would have never met Anna, two people separated by 100 years, had it not been for the Entity.

Her fingers entertwined with larger ones.

"I love you too" the fox mumbled against the skin of her lover.

It made the Huntress hum in response, idle fingers playing with smaller ones.

She was interrupted when said fingers pulled away, resting on her cheek instead. Anna looked down with a lidded gaze, feeling the lips she went mad over softly place against her own. She kissed her again and again, meeting soft plush lips against her own as the sound of the forest rustled around them.

Slowly, they pulled apart, chest rising and falling as bright shivers illuminated them. It didn't matter how long they'd been together now. Anna could never get tired of the way Meg had control over her heart and body, and how easy it was to send her to the heavens with just a single kiss.

Her arms wrapped tightly around the smaller woman, keeping her close.

"Lisichka" she said absentmindedly.

"Mh?" Meg inquired, eyes still closed as she resumed drawing shapes over her lovers chest.

"Will you stay with me forever?"

A smile encroached on Meg's face.

"Forever and even after that"

The answer had the Huntress' stomach sing and flip.

"Be mine and only mine forever. Until the world collapses and the last star falls from the sky"

To be together like this is one thing. But Anna wanted more. Something she couldn't put into words. She wanted this fox by her side until the sky fell.

At first she was silent, mulling what the other was truly asking her. The soft blush on her face deepened, facing her Huntress once more.

"Anna"

"Mhm?"

"Are you asking me to marry you?"

Marry. The word made the others head tilt. She wasn't sure of this word, but if it meant that the two would be together until the end of time, then yes. She was.

"Will you?"

The color on her fox's face deepened, and she was met with a surprising, passionate kiss. Her body responding on its own, reaching up to cup her face. Her lips parted, feeling her lovers tongue brush against it, allowing herself to be consumed by her little fox.

The two broke the kiss, the need for oxygen over powering their desire. Meg rested her forehead against the Russian's, shakey breaths leaving her as her eyes became glassy with tears.

"Yes, Anna. I want to be yours and only yours forever. Please marry me."

Her delicate fingers held either side of Anna's head, and the Huntress was putty in her hands. She couldn't resist, taking her beloved in for another kiss as her heart sang the melody of her name across the Huntress' body.

---------

MMMMMMM I cannot STAND these two. They are adorable and make my heart sing. I hope you enjoyed this!! What a beautiful way to start my day, with some MegAnna ♥️♥️

#anna the huntress #meg thomas #dbd #meganna #lesbian love #Fluff #I will absolutely jump over a bridge for them #There is no other way

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Angrily in love

Summary: Wanda and Reader are on the run after a mission goes wrong, and they do not have a good relationship. When Wanda is approached in a diner by strange men, Reader confronts them. And some other things. Based on prompt from stay-casual, thanks again dear.

Warnings: Language; All fluff, but also humor. enemies stubborn idiots to lovers.

Words: 3.002 K ////// Read on AO3

Marks > @stay-casual @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

You and Wanda didn't get along very well.

Which was a problem since you were running away together.

It all started two and a half weeks ago, and honestly, you would blame Steve if anyone asked.

You were both assigned to an infiltration mission into a drug trafficking headquarters in Mexico. It was not your typical job, but there was evidence of Hydra involvement.

And so you and Wanda were team partners, and everything was going very well, until she pissed you off for some reason, and the two of you started to argue. Maybe you miscalculated the impact of your words, because the second you call her "angry little witch" Wanda used her magic to push you, but before you could think of fighting back, there were about fifteen rifles pointed at both of you.

Disguise completely blown, Wanda was quick enough to get you two out of there, and with the entire country on alert, you needed to keep a low profile until it was safe to return to the compound.

So now you were forced to deal with each other's company, and you broke your cell phone when Natasha sent a emoji and a message telling you guys to enjoy your vacation.

At this moment you were driving the van that you managed to steal from the barracks before you left, while Wanda slept in the passenger seat. You reached out to turn on the radio for a bit, but when you started humming the music, it stopped playing. Looking quickly to see what had happened, you let out an incredulous sigh as you saw the familiar red light dissipate in the air.

- I'm sleeping. - Wanda grumbled, and you frowned in irritation as you turned on the radio again.

- Not my problem.

The music started again, but then stopped. You let out a angry whimper.

- Be quiet. - She said without opening her eyes.

And then you turned the sound back on. And Wanda turned it off. And then you did it again. This went on for three minutes, until you hit the brakes, and Wanda opened her eyes with the sudden movement.

- My God, what is your problem? - She shouted, and you ignored the honking sounds behind you as you took the keys off.

- You know what, Maximoff? - You replied angrily, unbuckling your seat belt. - You're driving now.

You dropped the key in her lap, and got out of the vehicle. Turning around, you opened the back door of the van and climbed in. You heard Wanda grumble angrily as she jumped into the driver's seat, but you just leaned against the wall of the van and closed your eyes. A minute after she started the car, you heard the sound of the radio.

Ignoring the urge to break the equipment, you decided to fall asleep.

//-//

Driving for about three hours, Wanda finally parked the van. The lack of movement woke you up, and you yawned lightly as you stretched.

You heard the door open and close, and caught a glimpse of Wanda's red hair as she walked away from the van, so you got out next.

It was a motel, and judging by the amount of cars in the parking lot, it was decent enough to not have diseases in the sheets.

You hurried to catch up with Wanda, and when she entered the reception area, she didn't hold the door, and you almost hit your face on the wood. Swearing softly, you then entered.

- Good evening. - You heard her greet the receptionist, who didn't look very pleased to serve more people. - Two rooms please.

- Sorry, honey. - He said chewing on a small stick between his teeth. - We only have one spare room.

- Wait, what?

- It's the season for Los Muertos, senorita. - clarified the man, and seeing Wanda's expression, he added. - All the places will be crowded with tourists, you are lucky to find anything available around here. - He says with a fake disappointment in his voice.

Wanda let out a sigh, while you were distracted by the fish in the aquarium on the premises.

- It's okay, Wanda, you can sleep on the couch. - You tease without looking at her, but she ignores your comment and hands the money for the room to the receptionist.

- Have a nice stay. If you want something to eat besides the minibar, there is a dinner behind the pool area. - The man says as he hands over the key. Wanda doesn't smile, and leaves the place, you lightly tap your fingers on the aquarium while smiling at the fish before following her.

You two walk to the room in silence, and you sigh as you enter, observing the place. It was simple, yet cozy. The redhead commented softly "thank god" when she notices that there are two beds, and threw the bag she was carrying on top of one of them, before walking to the bathroom, while you start looking for the remote control.

//-//

Two days sharing the same room, and you were surprised that you hadn't killed each other yet. There were a few arguments, mainly over having to share the television, or the delay in the shower, but otherwise things were going pretty well.

It was lunchtime, and you had just used the street phone to try to get in touch with Natasha when you saw Wanda leave the room in the direction of the dinner. She gave you an angry look before she left, and you rolled your eyes before following her, after all, you were starving.

- Why are you following me? - she asked angrily as you walked beside her.

- I'm not following you, I'm going to lunch. The restaurant is not yours. - You retort, and she rolls her eyes.

- God, and you have to have lunch with me now?

- Who says I'm having lunch with you? - you retort impatiently. - I intend to sit fifteen tables away.

- Great!

- Great indeed! - You retort as she opens the door and hurries inside, taking a seat at one of the first empty tables. You curse softly to yourself, and then enter the restaurant.

Unfortunately the only empty table you can find is the one in front of Wanda, and you can see her staring angrily at you. You smile wryly in her direction, and she waves her middle finger at you. But then the waitress approaches, and she looks away. You scold yourself for holding your gaze on her longer than necessary, and then you are served next.

The restaurant was considerably crowded, there were many groups of diverse people eating together, and you noticed that there were also truck drivers, and families, and even young people your own age. Fortunately the service was very good, and soon you were having some fries and meat.

You were finishing your milkshake, slightly distracted by the newspaper that was left on the table for the customers, when a sound of male laughter caught your attention.

Two men, considerably older than you, approached Wanda's table, both exchanging mischievous laughs.

- Come on, let's ask her out. - You heard one of them remark with a chuckle. And then you were already getting up, anger boiling in your chest.

- Hi there, sweetheart, what's your name?

- I'll give you five seconds to leave before I shove my shoe up your ass! - you shouted before Wanda could answer anything. Both men looked at you with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

- Who the hell are you? - One of them sneered, but you shoved him hard enough to make him realize that you were no ordinary girl as he stumbled backwards, his eyes flashed with fear.

- Leave her alone.

The man stumbled backwards poking his friend in the chest, and they both gave you a angry look before leaving. The restaurant was bubbling over with small comments, but you exchanged a glance with the waitress and she didn't seem willing to kick you out for this.

You turned to Wanda next, and she had a very annoyed expression on her face.

- Fine, Wanda, what is it? - you asked impatiently when noticing her face.

- I don't need your help. - She retorted angrily. - I can handle these things just fine on my own.

- Wow, you are really ungrateful. - You sneer, crossing your arms. You look around for a moment, and notice that men in the same profile are still assessing Wanda from afar. You feel your body boil with irritation at the malicious looks they cast at her, and you stare back at them, a murderous expression on your face. They exchange a startled look and you wait for them to stop looking before turning your attention to the redhead - Can I sit with you?

- Excuse me? - she asks angrily, but doesn't even wait for you to answer. - No way! Piss off!

- You are so annoying. - You grumble before going back to your desk.

But you're not even hungry anymore, feeling a strange irritation at the tip of your stomach as you remember the way the men looked at Wanda, so you take the last sips of your milkshake and stand up again. Wanda pretends you don't exist as you walk past her table, and you roll your eyes at the childishness.

- Good afternoon. - You greet the cashier with a smile. - Sorry for the mess. The idiots were harassing my...colleague.

The cashier smiles, accepting the money you gave her. Then she frowns at the amount, and you clear your throat when you say to include Wanda's table bill as well, and she just nods in agreement.

- She's a pretty girl. - The cashier comments as she separates the money. You make a noise of agreement, without really paying attention. - She seems like the kind of girl who breaks not only boys' hearts.

She gives you a suggestive look, and you blink in surprise, averting your eyes and feeling your face heat up.

- Thank you. - You grumble as you get your change.

Leaving the restaurant afterwards, you chide yourself for immediately looking for Wanda through the windows. Turning your head forward, you go back to your room.

//-//

Wanda really got annoyed with your little scene in the restaurant, and didn't talk to you when she came back to the room, not that you were complaining.

And then it was time for her to watch some stupid program, and you left the room, because you were not in the mood of arguing about who's turn it is to watch.

You thought about getting a drink, so you returned to the restaurant, which at this time was considerably emptier.

The cashier from earlier was now serving tables, and smiled at you when you sat down at the counter.

- What will you have, dear? - She asked.

- A hot chocolate please. - You asked, leaning your elbow on the table and your face in your hand. With your free hand you tapped your fingers lightly against the counter.

It didn't take long to get your order, and you and you got a little pensive when the waitress returned, wiping the counter beside you.

- That was quite a scene earlier today. - She comments with a smile. You laugh, slightly embarrassed, but willing to talk.

- Yeah, sorry about that.

- No problem, sweetie. - She comments. - Young people are always so nervous when jealous.

You choke in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

- Jealous? I wasn't...

The waitress giggles, placing the cloth on her left shoulder.

- It's all good, child. - she says. - My husband used to be jealous of truck drivers in this region too. And with a beautiful girlfriend like that, I imagine it's hard for you.

She remarks with a smile before going to serve another customer, and you widen your eyes in surprise, feeling your face very warm.

Then you spent the next five minutes frowning, repeating how absurd it was that anyone would insinuate that you were jealous of Wanda, until the waitress was back again, serving you a doughnut that you didn't ask for but accepted anyway.

- Just to clarify. - You start between one bite and another. - I am not jealous.

The waitress giggles, arranging a few things on the counter.

- I also noticed that you two sat at separate tables, reminded me of my Miguel. - She says with a smile. - We used to fight so much that he would sleep on the balcony.

You laugh lightly, running your hand through your hair.

- But you know, all the fights were just an excuse to get each other's attention. - She says, leaning her hands on the counter in front of you. - To this day, I still believe he would leave the key off the key chain just to hear me grumble and squeeze my butt when he apologized. - She says with a smile that makes you laugh.

And then she is pouring you some more chocolate, and you are ignoring the growing nervousness in your stomach at the thought of her insinuations that you and Wanda were like a couple fighting.

- Rosa. - You call out after reading her name on the badge, she looks at you curiously. - How... How did you know you were in love?

- During a fight, of course. - She says, laughing. - We are in high school, and we had a fight during a soccer game. It was so hilarious. We started fighting about who would play the penalty kick for our team, and one of our classmates tried to get into an argument with me, and Miguel punched him in the nose, yelling that no one could fight with me but him.

You widen your eyes in surprise, but then laugh, finding the story a bit absurd. But the waitress has a nostalgic look in her eyes, as if she is missing something, and you frown.

- What... what happened to Miguel?

You watch her smile slowly die, and something in her gaze change. And then you cough uncomfortably, feeling a pain in your stomach.

- My Miguel was trying to improve our life when the German agents arrived. - She said in a somber tone. You stumbled out of your seat, trying to breathe. - The avengers had no right to take him away from me.

Fucking great, you thought wryly as you felt your throat closing. You stumbled out of the restaurant, falling to your knees. You think you saw a red light before you lost consciousness.

//-//

Something was moving, and it took many minutes for you to realize that it was the surface you were lying on. And then you slowly opened your eyes, blinking as you progressively tried to regain awareness.

- Finally, spitfire. - A female voice commented with irony, and you were startled to see Natasha sitting beside you. You tried to sit up in bed, feeling your body ache to do so.

- Damn it. - You complained of pain, and then you realized that you were on a spaceship. - Wow, how did I get here?

- By being the worst field agent. - Nat scoffed lightly, getting up from her seat to get you some water. You noticed that you were in the medical compartment of the ship. When she handed you the glass of water, you let out a satisfied grunt, drinking it all quickly.

- Let me guess, that lady really poisoned me. - You say, handing the glass back, and Nat sits down beside you on the bed, laughing lightly.

- Seriously, you went out on a simple recognition mission, and now you have shooting, escape and poisoning in your report.

You laugh before you ask.

- How did you find us anyway?

- Wanda, of course. - She tells. - I think you collapsed and she wrecked the whole place. We arrived before the Mexican government arrested you two. Also, the waitress will be questioned, but I don't think she knows much.

- Wait, what do you mean by wrecked the whole place?

Nat laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

- You know how Wanda's magic gets when she is nervous. And well, she was very nervous.

You nod, looking away, feeling a warmth in your cheeks and chest. And then Nat is getting up again.

- Well, I have to tell Steve that you are awake. You've had enough sleep so join us when you can. - She comments with a smile before leaving.

When you look down you notice the needle marks on your arm, where the antidote was probably placed, you sigh slightly.

You stand up, realizing that you feel almost no discomfort in your muscles. Before you can move toward the other room however, there is someone coming in.

- You're really awake. - Wanda comments seriously, stopping in the doorway.

You laugh lightly, deciding to tease her.

- Ah, yes. And I heard that you lost your shit when you saw me pass out. It's touching, really.

- And you are still a complete idiot. - She retorts as she approaches.

- Yes, and yet you still love me.

- I do.

- Wait, what?

But then Wanda advances on you, kissing you on the mouth. It takes a microsecond for you to overcome the shock, and kiss her back with your hands on her waist. You both sigh against each other's mouths, and when air is needed, Wanda pulls her face away slightly.

- Don't ever do that again. - She says breathlessly.

- I didn't choose to be poisoned, you know. - You retort with mild irony. Wanda rolls her eyes smiling as she lets her hands go up to your cheeks.

- I don't want to lose you, even if you are an annoying jerk. - She says and you laugh lightly.

- Thanks for the compliments, dear. It helps my self-esteem. - You reply with irony and Wanda laughs, stealing a few kisses from you.

- Don't be such a crybaby. - She jokes, but something in her eyes changes. - You're also brave, and funny. And sweet, and infuriating attractive.

- Wow, this is turning me on. - You mock lightly, stroking her back and making her laugh. And then you're stealing kisses between your giggles, until you rest your foreheads together. - Just for the record, even though you are a temperamental annoying little witch, I am completely in love with you.

Wanda nods smiling, kissing you again.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wandaxreader #marvel imagines #wandaxyou #wandamaximoffxreader #wandamaximoff x reader

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rogue-durin-16 · 4 years

Text

YOU DRIVE ME MAD

Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)

A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.

"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.

"uhm... Nothing."

"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.

"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.

With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.

I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"

"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.

"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.

My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.

His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.

I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.

The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.

"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.

"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"

"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.

"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.

One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.

"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."

"... 'm trying..."

"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.

"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.

"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.

"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.

I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.

What the fuck had just happened?

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

During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.

As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.

Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.

"—already told you it wasn't for you!"

"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.

"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"

"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"

"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"

"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.

As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.

"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.

"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.

"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."

He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.

"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."

"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"

"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.

"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"

"Been better." I confessed.

Silence.

"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."

"No worries."

Silence again.

"Did you eat something?"

He scrunched his nose. "Not really."

"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."

More silence.

"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."

"Yours is too, surprisingly."

"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.

"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"

"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Liar."

There we went again; the white flag was out.

"Fuck you."

"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."

"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."

"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.

"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."

"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."

"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"

He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.

"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"

He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.

"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.

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

FRED'S P. O. V.

The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.

I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.

That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.

I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"

"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.

"In private?"

"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.

"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."

This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"

"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.

This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.

I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.

"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."

"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.

Finally.

Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.

"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.

Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.

#fred weasley x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasly x reader #gred and forge #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fluff #fred Weasley hurt comfort #fred x you #fred x slytherin reader #fred weasley au

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under-sedationnn · 3 years

Text

asra x reader (request) - "pineapple juice"

anonymous: Number 37 from the 50 types of kisses with Asra (or Valerius if you write for the Courtiers, do you?) 👀

Word Count: approx. 500

prompt list here

37: Cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss.

to answer your question anon, i do not write for the courtiers. i will write for any of the main six tho!! i hope that you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it, especially since the prompt is a little more spicy than i generally write ;)

The sweltering heat of Vesuvian summers are damp and suffocating, and not even a calm, steady breeze helps against the rays of sun that beat down on the massive market crowds. Everyone stood fanning themselves, attempting to cool off any way they could. It was futile, though, due to the proximity from person to person. Heavy breathing mingled our exhales in the static air, and heat waves rose from the beaten dirt path and worn cobblestone.

I had left the shop only to pick up a few small things, Asra keeping an eye on the store. On my way back, as I excused myself through the dense crowd of travelers and townspeople, a small fruit stand came into view. Only, it was not full of apples, oranges, bananas, or any other fruit this stand usually sold.

Making my way toward the stand, I asked the owner, "What kind of fruit is this?" It really didn't even look like a fruit; it resembled a sea urchin much more than any plump, soft crops he had ever presented to the market before. My confusion must have shown by my expression, because the merchant only chuckled.

"Ah, these came on the trade ships just this morning! Many of them were shipped to the palace right away, but I was able to smuggle some."

"Right, so, what are they?"

"Oh, yes," he began, clearly having lost his train of thought, "they're called pineapples. They're tropical."

I picked one up and carefully examined it, gently poking the seemingly sharp spines on the side of the fruit. "Hm, alright," I moved it up and down in my palm, mentally weighing the large fruit, "how much do you want for one?"

"Five bit."

"Five? It's one fruit!"

"Yes, but it is a large fruit, and I stole it to sell. Consider it paying for the labor, as well. Five bit, nothing less."

Shifting the small coins between my fingers, I looked between the merchant and the fruit in my hand. He smiled smugly as I handed him the money.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

Let's just hope Asra knows how to cut this.

-----

"Asra, I'm back!" I called as I opened the door to the shop. I found Asra sitting on one of the small cushions we had littered along the floor, drinking a piping cup of tea.

"Seriously, tea in this weather?" I accused.

"It's worth the hot flash that follows," he joked, taking some of the items from my arms and restocking the shelves. "What are you holding?"

"This, apparently, is called a pineapple."

Turning to look at it, his eyes immediately lit up at the sight of the fruit. He grabbed it from my hands and began gazing at it with both curiosity and awe. "Where did you get this?"

"The market! From the merchant who sells all the fruit. He said he stole it from one of the merchant ships this morning, so it's a little battered and bruised."

"No, it's just ripe! Wow, Y/n, I haven't had one of these since I was a kid. Muriel and I used to snag them from merchant ships all the time at the docks."

"So I'm assuming that means you know how to cut it?"

Laughing, he responded, "Yes, I know how to cut it. It's not as hard as it looks, promise. Would you like to help?"

"No, thank you," I said, grabbing his abandoned tea from the floor, "but I will definitely let you cut it up and eat some when you're done."

Motioning for me to follow him up the stairs, he said, "Gotcha, go ahead and get some water and sit down."

After trudging my way up the stone steps, I all but collapsed into one of our small dining chairs, pouring myself a cup of slightly warm water and downing it in one go.

"So I'm guessing it's pretty hot at the market," he joked, and I watched his back as he cut up the fruit at the kitchen counter.

"Surprisingly so!" I responded.

"Well, this should serve as a refreshment for you."

Turning to face me, he presented a large bowl of bright yellow fruit. A puddle of juice sat in the bottom of the bowl, and the chunks of pineapple glistened in the bright sunlight filtering in through the windows. It looked delicious.

Before sitting down to join me, he grabbed he smallest chunk he cud find and set it on the table, Faust slithering up the leg to gobble it down quickly.

"Sweet!"

"Well, if Faust approves, then I guess it can't be too bad."

Asra and I both grabbed at the sweetest looking pieces we could find, and I immediately found pleasure in the bursting sweetness and tang of the fruit. Although warm from the weather, the fruit was rejuvenating. I smiled as I chewed, and Asra began to laugh at my expression.

"I told you it was good, didn't I?"

"You did, you did," I said as I grabbed another piece, "you just sometimes have... interesting tastes in food."

"Okay, listen, spicy honey was a good idea!"

"Only in theory," I teased, and he smirked at me, rolling his eyes and leaning forward slowly, "I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth to save my life. It stuck to all of my teeth."

"Well, I make up for it with other skills." He leaned forward still, holding a small chunk of pineapple between his fingers.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Well... I can cut up a pineapple and you can't."

I laughed. "Right, what else?"

He made a face as though he were thinking, and I ate another piece of the fruit. The juice dribbled down my chin and onto my neck, leaving a trail from my mouth. His eyes hazed over slightly, an area of mischief radiating from his person.

"Well," he began, slowly inching forward to lean over the table, "I'm excellent at cleaning up."

I could feel his breath on my skin now, and my breath hitched as he brought his lips to my color bone. He put his hands on top of my own so that they wouldn't leave the table, our sticky, sugary fingers sticking to each other. He slowly placed sloppy kisses all the way to my mouth, licking away any trace of the juice I had left behind. He ended the action with a small kiss to my lips, and I leaned forward as he sat back down in his seat.

Blushing and overheated, he only smirked at me as he ate another piece of the fruit.

I cleared my throat, attempting to return to the previous conversation and rid my head of the thoughts that were now coming to mind.

"I can certainly attest to that. Maybe you could teach me sometime."

#asra alnazar #asra headcanons #asra the magician #asrathearcana #the arcana asra #asra the arcana #asra #the arcana headcanons #the arcana playlist #the arcana asks

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knjoodles · 5 years

Text

learn to love; jungkook | 04

pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 3.5K

summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.

lowercase intended.

psst! this chapter is a game-changer AND has a character named after one of my followers! i hope she sees it and enjoys it. 💞

01 | 02 | 03

your alarm clock woke you, it’s piercing siren startling your eyes wide. groaning and fluttering your eyes to adjust to the sudden morning rays warming your somnolent face, you glared at the flashing red numbers across from you, reading a proud eight a.m. “fuck,” you mumbled, sinking your head into your pillow. your head pounded sparingly as you buried your head further, your attempt at drowning out the gentle pain failing.

what had happened last night? nothing devastating. you're not one to irrationally act out; you always think about seyoung first. the last thing you can recall is throwing your shoes off and bag to the floor and essentially passing out on your bed after attending a team dinner. your days never seem to end, it just feels as though you have small pockets of time to breathe in between your busy schedule. when your five-minute break is up, though, it's back to work.

you slowly arose from your cozy, welcoming bed and stared at the pillow sitting next to you, one that you'd clung to all night judging from its evident crumpled form in comparison to the other pillows sprawled across your bed. ouch. it sits where hoseok would lay.

shaking your head to ensure you wouldn't have any regressive thoughts at eight in the morning, you pulled your comforter back, swinging your legs across the bed and perching comfortably on its edge. gazing at your feet, you sighed quietly, thanking the heavens it was saturday but dually cursing it for your support group session being today. you hadn't told anyone about it, not even sooyoung. this was for you, and you alone. you trudged from your bed to the master bathroom, scrubbing your teeth.

it was at this moment that the sweet aroma of a saturday morning breakfast wafted from your kitchen to your bedroom. you inhaled it peacefully, the fragrance calming you and clearing your mind. you finally left your bedroom, shuffling towards your kitchen and living room. you silently apologized to the heavens for scolding it about the support group and thanked it once more, being reminded that you wouldn't know what to do half the time without sooyoung.

"morning!" a voice sang from your kitchen. "i see the zombie finally decided to rise from sleep?" it chuckled, the sound of what seemed like waffles sizzling. your stomach growled at the thought of biting into one and you returned sooyoung's laugh, the patter of your daughter's feet against the tiled floor growing louder as she ran towards you. "seyoung, be careful! i don't want you slipping!"

"it's okay, sooyoung auntie!" your daughter assured, her smaller frame finally finding you. "mom!" she giggled excitedly as she wrapped her arms around your waist, tugging affectionately. "you're finally awake!" she moaned, pulling on your large cotton shirt. "you know, i thought you died! so i called sooyoung auntie, and she told me you were alive. but i didn't believe her, so i asked her to prove it! and she told me she couldn't prove it this early in the morning. it wasn't even that early!"

"seyoung-ah, what part of four in the morning isn't early to you?" sooyoung complained, her voice ringing through your home, body still not in view. peeking her head past a pillar separating the three of you, she scowled, annoyed, slapping another waffle onto a stack on a plate. "i was busy dreaming my dreams and this little one wakes me from my beauty sleep! at four in the morning! seyoung, if i didn't love you so much, who knows what i'd do!" she groaned. you and your daughter chuckled in unison, her small hand dragging you to the table to sit with her and sooyoung.

"this is the first time i've made blueberry waffles, so don't expect a master chef level plate," sooyoung grinned as she placed the large pile of waffles in the middle of the table. "seyoung was okay with normal waffles up until she spotted the blueberries in the fridge. after that, she wouldn't stop tormenting me to add them in!" she joked, sitting down across from you.

"torment?!" seyoung squealed, eyes wide, a smile cracking across her cheeks. "all i wanted was some pancakes, auntie!" she pat the table playfully, sooyoung pinching her cheek lovingly. "and, you said yes!"

"and, i said yes," sooyoung repeated, looking over at you. "you both know i can't say no to seyoung! it's like refusing to eat a feast in front of you after you haven't eaten for days. what do you expect me to do? starve?" she jested, earning an eye roll and a grin from you. no one failed to make you laugh like your very dramatic sooyoung.

"yeah, yeah." you bantered, serving yourself two warm pancakes. "gosh, sooyoung, these smell incredible," you gushed as you cut a piece swiftly, wanting to savor it immediately. it instantly melted in your mouth, the flavor of the warm fruit bursting into your mouth. you smiled brightly, chewing vigorously and holding up a cheerful thumbs-up. your daughter did the same, earning a giggle from sooyoung as she studied the two of you.

"you guys look exactly alike," she murmured as she took a portion of waffle into her mouth, nibbling contentedly. swallowing, she continued, "just the same. it's like someone copy-paste in real life."

seyoung turned to you, her face crinkled into a joyous grin. she placed her petite hand on top of yours, squeezing it tenderly. "i'm pretty, just like her! my mom is the prettiest lady in the world."

"that she is!" sooyoung chimed in agreement, pointing her fork with a half-eaten chunk of waffle on it at seyoung. "no one can compare, except for me. i humbly accept second place, madam (y/n)." she bowed teasingly.

"no, seyoung, you're the prettiest! and what about yebin? she's pretty too, right?" as much as you hated mentioning yebin, you knew you had to encourage seyoung to form a relationship with her 'step-mom'. you had to be the bigger person and you have to ignore the urge to scream at her every time you see her face. that's what being an adult is. hiding your feelings and pretending that you're generally okay.

"eh," seyoung dragged, filling her mouth with a large piece of waffle. "not as pretty as you," she assured between chews. "yebin's scary when she takes off her makeup." her unintentional attack on yebin prompted sooyoung to sputter in amusement, bursting into laughter.

"you're even starting to talk like your mom!" sooyoung exclaimed, resting her head on the table to mask her cackling. "i can't," she gasped, throwing her head back and covering her mouth. "you guys are getting more and more alike every day!"

you smiled at your excited daughter, who was now drawing a large smiley face using maple syrup on her plate. admiring your best friend cackling in front of you and your daughter being undeniably herself, you sat contempt, knowing life was good for the time being.

"next time?" sooyoung started as she slipped on her shoes, her purse dangling from her shoulder. "call me. if you ever need an extra hand around here, i'll come as soon as i can. promise you'll call?"

"promise." you reassured, nodding politely. seyoung hovered behind you waving to her beloved aunt as she departed. "thanks for the breakfast and lunch, soo. you know i couldn't have done it without you." you dart your head around to spot your daughter, finding her peering behind your leg. "seyoung, say bye to sooyoung!"

"bye, sooyoung auntie! come back soon! i want to make chocolate pancakes next!" seyoung called as sooyoung walked to her uber. "please come back!" seyoung repeated hesitantly, "i won't wake you up early again!"

"good." sooyoung nodded, climbing into the passenger seat. "i'll see you monday, (y/n)! enjoy your weekend." sooyoung closed the door of the car and the uber sped off, you and your daughter lingering in your front lawn until she was out of sight.

"what are we gonna do today, mommy?" seyoung turned to you, eyes full of curiosity.

"well, i wanted to keep it a surprise, but i may or may not have scheduled a sleepover for you and ailee!" you exclaimed, grabbing your daughter's hands excitedly.

"a sleepover?!" she squeaked, ecstatic as ever. "a sleepover with ailee!" seyoung jumped up and down, her pigtails swaying. "thank you, mommy, thank you!" she followed you inside, slipping off her sandals. you glanced at the clock, noting that it was currently around two o'clock.

"ailee's mom expects us at four, so go and get ready! i'll drop you off." you smiled, leading her towards her bathroom.

"you're not staying? even for a little bit?" seyoung turned, pouting. "why? are you not friends with ailee's mom?"

"no, no, ailee's mom and i are still friends! mommy just has a lot of work to do." you reasoned, crouching down to eye-level with your daughter. "i wish i could stay, baby, but duty calls!"

"okay," she replied half-dejectedly, waddling into her room to fetch her clothes to shower. you felt relieved your daughter hadn't tried to pry. you were just getting help for the two of you.

seyoung, excited as ever to finally have reached ailee's house, practically leaped out of her car seat and beelined towards the door. you dashed after her, finding it difficult to keep track of locking your car and your wild daughter all at once. "seyoung-ah!" you called sternly, making her almost immediately stop and apologize profusely. after assuring her that she didn't make any large mistake, you took her by the hand and led her to the front door, making sure she walked confidently next to you — a tip you'd read in a parenting journal.

the door swung open as excited squeals sounded from either side, ailee and seyoung basically grabbing each other to hug tightly. chuckling at the two running off to play, seyoung's backpack still in your hand, you glanced at ailee's mother, mai. "they're really excited, huh?" she exclaimed, watching them clamber up the stairs. "here, let me take that," she offered.

"of course!" you replied, placing the bag in her hand. "i can't thank you enough for taking seyoung in today. i would've called her nanny, but today was so busy, and —"

"it's no issue," mai interrupted, smiling assuringly. "we all know how hard you work. and after you alone juggled both of our kids after my husband's accident, well," she turned, making sure your kids weren't there. "it's the least i could do. do you want to come in? i can get some coffee going,"

"i'd love to, but i can't," you explained. "i've got a meeting of sorts to get to soon. i'll pick seyoung up around ten tomorrow?" you asked, adjusting the sleeve of your sweater.

"that works perfectly. call me if there's anything important!" she called, waving to you as you departed towards your car.

"likewise!" you responded, waving politely and climbing into your car, waiting until their front door shut. why did you always find yourself on the verge of losing it in this exact position? in front of mai's house, in your car, right in front of the wheel. and, mimicking the way you always react to these situations, you rubbed the leather of your steering wheel, stopping yourself from resting your forehead against the horn and letting it ring until you felt satisfied. it was time to go to that potential shitshow of a support group, and you didn't know how to feel. pain? fear?

you thought your divorce from hoseok would be the worst you've ever felt. and granted, it partially was, but at least you were sure of yourself. sure that you didn't want anything to do with this anymore, regardless of how much you loved him. but now? you didn't even know if you wanted this. the worst feeling to you was clear now; it was uncertainty, because uncertainty can corrode you and all your confidence in ways nothing else can.

and, again mimicking the way you always react to these situations, you pressed the gas and drove, preparing yourself for both the worst and the best.

the community center was cold. that was your first thought.

dozens of people filed into the large auditorium, all trying to catch a glimpse of the one directory they offered to guide attendees to their respective support groups. after standing on your toes for what felt like hours, you finally read, 'divorcees and widow(er)s support group, room 613'. you found your place to go, but did you really want to walk into that room?

there that uncertainty went again, eating away at your confidence like a parasite.

you have to go, you reasoned to yourself it's not just for you, it's for seyoung. she'll catch on to what's going on eventually, you can't let her see you weak! with the reminder of seyoung fresh in your mind, you took the elevator to the sixth floor and searched thoroughly for room 613.

"excuse me?" a voice asked from behind you, startling you. "are you lost? 'cause i am, too."

you snorted at their comment, turning around to face them fully. a tall, muscular man stood in front of you, voice deep, hair slicked back handsomely. "oh," you muttered, stepping back to make eye contact more comfortably. "yeah, you could say i'm lost," you nodded, darting your head to either side of the hallway. "i'm looking for room 613. do you know where that is?"

"613? i'm headed there myself," he replied awkwardly. the two of you stood together silently, both not knowing what to say in panicked silence. "i, uh, i'm park chanyeol." he introduced himself bluntly, offering his hand.

hesitating, you finally took his hand, shaking it firmly, the way you do with customers or partners. "i'm (y/n) (l/n)." you responded.

"(y/n) (l/n)," he repeated, looking towards the ceiling. "that sounds familiar, do i know you?"

you cringed internally. one of the reasons you became a producer was to avoid being recognized in public, to avoid the constant attention, to avoid the all-eyes-on-you treatment artists are forced to undergo. so, as a result, when someone does recognize your name, you get a sudden urge to become a hermit. "long story short, i'm a producer."

"ah, i see." chanyeol replied, hearing the hint of apprehension in your voice. "well, (y/n) (l/n), we're in the same boat, so let's find the room together." thankful he understood your tone, you set off with chanyeol, trekking across the hallway to find the infamous room 613. to your annoyance and surprise, the room seemed to be hidden away from the rest of the hallway, and out of numerical order.

chanyeol opened the door for you and let the both of you in. room 613 was larger than what you expected; the room seemed to be at least three times as big as the other rooms, with many people filling up seats and talking amongst themselves. you didn't expect this many people to ever show up to a support group, but you stood corrected. not knowing where to go, you glanced at chanyeol, who motioned for the two of you to head over to the tables supervisors had set up, which were lined with water and general snacks.

pouring two plastic cups of water for the both of you, you looked again at chanyeol, who was tapping his foot on the floor, glancing at the clock restlessly. "hey," you started, immediately getting his full attention. "tell me about yourself, chanyeol."

a small silence between the two of you.

"but, only if you're comfortable!" you stammered, hoping, praying that you didn't push any buttons within the first hour of meeting someone.

he laughed at your uneasiness, dimples revealing themselves. "it's no big deal. uh, my wife and i recently divorced after i caught her cheating on me. is this it? is this the sharing thing they wanted us to do?"

you chuckled, amused. "yeah, i think it is. and, it's a small world; the exact thing happened to me, but with my husband. do you have any kids? i have a daughter."

"thankfully no," chanyeol answered, now visibly more comfortable. "we were planning on it, but that was before she cheated on me,"

you nodded, understanding where he's coming from. you never told hoseok, but you'd always wanted to have a son with him alongside seyoung. and, like chanyeol, you never got there because of someone else's mistake. "i'm sorry you had to go through that." you sympathized.

"i just need this to finally get over everything. i'm sorry you had to go through that too, especially because you have a daughter," he stated, caressing the back of his neck. "hey, if you can do it, so can i, right?"

"yeah. and if you can do it, so can i." you repeated, smiling at him. the two of you shared a laugh at your new paired saying as the facilitator called everyone to the circle of chairs in the middle of the room, asking everyone to take a seat. you and chanyeol sat side-by-side, the both of you somewhat relieved that you weren't in this completely alone. at least there was someone who gets how you're feeling and just how painful it can be.

"hi, everyone!" the facilitator's voice echoed through the room, loud, clear, and confident. "my name is lee chaerin, and i'll be the 'leader', if you will, of today's support group! a reminder, in case some of you are unsure, this is the divorcee, widow, and widower support group. if you're in the wrong room, please consult the new directory outside!" she announced. as a few people shuffled quietly out of the room to find their place elsewhere, she clasped her hands together. "again, my name is lee chaerin. i'm a trained psychologist and have been studying psychology for nearly twelve years at this point. cool, huh? my hope for this support group is that i help all of you heal, even if it's just a little. i want to make sure that all of you are okay, and can help each other while helping yourself!" she rested her hands on her hips and smiled, sighing contentedly. "i know that no one really wants to do this, but it's important. let's all go around the room and introduce ourselves, what we do, what happened, and what you hope to gain from this support group! after this, we'll split into groups to share our in detail stories and learn from each other. sounds like a plan? great."

that type of introduction was a nightmare in reality. ever since you were ten you despised introducing yourself that way, and today, once married with a daughter, you feel the same way. some things never change.

you weren't allowed to reach for your phone for the next two hours. they say that phones ruin the human experience because they allow an escape from awkward or undesirable situations. whoever 'they' are, they sure as hell are right.

you tried your best to pay attention to everyone's name and goals for the group. you wanted to, but with the number of people surrounding you and how much was on your mind, it was tiring to listen past their occupation.

"hi everyone, i'm youngjae," the conventional 'hi, youngjae' sounded from the group in a monotone state, defining the core of everyone's mood at this point of the support group. "i'm a songwriter for jyp entertainment, and my goal is to heal so i can focus on my job. my wife and i divorced after some internal issues." youngjae motioned to the man sitting next to him, nodding in his direction.

not that you'd know, though. you were staring at your feet.

"hi, everyone, my name is jeon jungkook." a man's voice stated, making your head shoot up from the ground. the sudden movement made his eyes dart towards yours, and the two of you sat frozen, only seeing each other, eyes locked. "i'm a teacher, and my goal is to stop thinking about her every day so i can move on." his voice became audibly quieter, but it didn't matter. the room was dead silent, anyway.

you couldn't even hold your mouth open. your jaw and chest tightened. you didn't expect him to be here.

you broke eye contact to eye his hands, his index finger and thumb of his right hand seemingly toying with a ring that was no longer there.

a ring that was no longer there.

your eyes met again. the air was tense and suffocating; the panic that filled only the two of you created an atmosphere only you and jungkook could feel.

he broke eye contact, his glance now on his lap. his voice now barely a whisper, he spoke, still loud enough for you to hear. "i lost my wife in a car accident about a year ago. she was hit by a truck while she was coming home to me."

—

tag list:

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forevfangirlwrites · 4 years

Note

I'm obsessed with the actors au! first date/kiss for that au?

Part 1: Here (Part 2: Here)

The best thing about Percy’s life is that he has managed to score a date with The Annabeth Chase.

The worst thing about Percy’s life is that he has no fucking clue how he’s supposed to pull this off.

She’s a famous actress. So it’s not like he can just take her to Olive Garden and he does not have the budget for something super fancy and oh, did he mention, she’s famous, so going out in public is going to be an issue and—

He calls Grover.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Grover says in utter disbelief over the line.

Percy groans as he plops down on his couch. “I almost wish I was, this is too stressful. I can’t do it, why did I even say anything?”

Luckily, Grover is his best friend and completely used to rambling that’s usually just a tad dramatic.

“You just need to play to your strengths.”

“Did you just quote a sports movie?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes, please, sorry.” Percy's too desperate. “Continue.”

Grover sighs. “As I was saying, it seems like she just wants to spend some time with you--though I'm still having a hard time believing that you actually scored a date with Annabeth Chase, are you sure it was her?"

"Grover!"

"Sorry, just making sure. Anyway, you should do just that: spend some time with her. And do what you do best.”

“Which is?” he asks, but he thinks he knows the answer. His oven is already on.

“Don’t play dumb, I have no doubt you’re stress baking cookies right now.”

“Okay, okay, but…” he trails off, another thought coming to him. “What if she doesn’t like baked goods?”

“Oh my god Percy, it’s baked goods, who doesn’t like them!”

Grover makes a fair point. (Plus, he’s pretty sure she’s posted stuff on her Instagram that was baked goods.)

So, miraculously, with some help from Grover and the okay from Cali, he manages to pull together something that he hopes is at least halfway decent.

The small, cramped café is already cute, but Percy hopes that by drawing down the blinds and lighting some candles and lamps he’s made it cozier. (He even bought a table cover for one of the two lone tables at the place.)

The bell rings just as he’s finished setting out some plates and his head snaps up as Annabeth Chase, in all her dark jeans and crème blouse glory, walks in. (Seriously, jeans never look that good on anyone and what probably really famous designer thought it was a good idea to have off the shoulder blouses because he might be choking a little right now).

“Hey,” she says softly while he stares.

She laughs and crosses the distance between them to smile sweetly. “Percy?”

“Huh? Yes? Hi, Annabeth, you came, I mean, of course you did, have a seat.” He gets the words out all in one breath and turns towards the counter where he’s laid out some food.

A hand on his arm stops him and forget Jason Grace’s eyes, her touch is electrifying.

“Percy,” she says slowly and he’s afraid he’s fucked things up and the date hasn’t even started. “Does it help to know that I’m nervous too?”

What?

She offers a small smile. “Believe it or not, I don’t normally do this, and I don’t know what’s going through your head but right now, I’m just a girl on a first date, and I’m nervous too. So,” she takes a breath, “let’s just be nervous together, okay?”

He wants to slap himself in the face for being an absolute (insensitive) idiot. But he doesn’t think that would help the situation, so instead he nods.

“Yeah, okay, sorry. Can we start again?”

Annabeth smiles, her first real true smile so far and Percy feels a warmth in his chest. She nods and he thanks every deity in the world

Squaring his shoulders, he turns properly towards her, taking in her appearance with a wide smile, and takes her hand. “You look beautiful,” he says, raising her hand to his lips. “And thanks for, you know...” His brain kinda short circuited when he kissed her hand, but he tries to power through anyway, “joining me tonight.”

She giggles as he pulls out a chair for her. “You look pretty cute too,” she replies with a wink and Percy tries not to have a heart attack.

“You’re cuter,” he argues back, as she slips into her seat. She makes a face and he shoots her a grin as he turns around to get the food.

“I don’t know about that, my view is pretty great,” she calls, and he almost drops the dish of enchiladas he’s made.

He tells his brain to come up with a quick and witty retort. His brain returns an image of Annabeth kissing him that is entirely unhelpful to the situation.

Turning back around with the dish firmly grasped in his hands, all he can manage is making the same face as she did fifteen seconds ago. But at least he doesn’t drop the food. Baby steps.

She laughs and he places the dish in between them, maneuvering around the drinks he’s already set out.

“Clearly you haven’t looked in a mirror,” he retaliates.

Annabeth rolls her eyes and smiles. “How about I call a truce and say that the food looks the best out of all of us. Did you make it?”

And the nervousness is back as some heat flares up to his cheeks and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry if it’s not the best, it’s my first time making them, really and—“

“I’m sure they’re going to be good, now please sit down and have some too, I’m feeling kinda lonely here,” she jokes, but he catches the look behind her eyes.

He quickly sits down, wiping the palms of his hands on his jeans. Nodding towards the food, he aims for the casual that he had lost the moment he had served the food. “Well? Don't leave me hanging.”

Truthfully, he had already taste tested (he couldn’t serve something bad) and from the little he had, it seemed pretty okay. But that doesn’t stop him from anxiously looking over at her as he serves himself.

Annabeth's eyes widen as she chews and he hopes that's a good sign. “Percy," she says as she finishes up her bite. "This is so good! There’s no way you made them for the first time!”

He blushes again and wonders when he went from being 26 to 16 again. “I had help, my best friend Grover makes it even better.”

“Still. Do you like to cook?” she asks, taking another bite.

“Yeah, but I like to bake even more.”

Seeing her questioning face, he laughs, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “Yeah, you’ll get to taste some of that later.”

She beams at him. “I can’t wait!”

“What about you? Do you like cooking?”

It’s kind of bizarre to be talking about cooking with Annabeth freaking Chase, but if there’s one thing he’s learned, she’s only human (an amazing, beautiful, talented human in his eyes, but still just human) and he needs to get over himself.

“I wish, I am horrible in the kitchen though.”

“What? No way? You’re telling me the guest star on Cooking with Dionysus can’t actually cook?” He jokes back.

She groans, leaning back in her chair. “Oh my god, that was so nerve wracking. Thankfully, I had a recipe and some help, even if it was snarky help.”

He leans forward. “Is he actually that snarky?”

Annabeth shrugs, her exposed shoulders rising and falling, and he represses a sudden urge to kiss the freckle on her right one. “Hard to tell. I don’t think he hated me though.”

“It must be tough, being around all these famous people, must be a lot of drama.”

She sighs. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a tough industry, but there are some really good ones out there.”

“Like Jason.”

“Like Jason,” she agrees. “I’m glad he told me about this place.” Her eyes wander the room and the nervousness about his choices crops up again.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he blurts, causing her focus to shift back to him.

“Mind what?”

Well now that he’s talked himself into a hole, he has to talk himself out of it. Nervous together, that’s what she had said right?

“That our date is here, I didn’t think being out in public would be the best so I tried to make it as private as possible and this was the only place I could think of that—”

For the second time that night, she cuts him off. “Percy, it’s perfect.” She lays a hand on his across the small table. “You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this and I really appreciate it, thank you.”

He smiles, the anxiety slowly melting away. “Good, I’m glad, I was just kinda worried about it, you know, and I’m glad that you don’t mind this, so um, thank you,” he ends lamely.

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth assures, squeezing his hand, “I’ll make sure to plan the next one.”

“Next one?” Internally, he’s dying a little, but he has to play it cool you know. So naturally, his voice totally definitely doesn’t crack.

“We’ll see, depends on the baked goods,” she teases back.

He shoots her a conspiratorial smile. “How do you feel about cupcakes?”

As it turns out Annabeth Chase (like most people, as Grover would say) loved the cupcakes and Percy Jackson loved the way the frosting tasted in her mouth when he stole a kiss.

A/N: Thank you for sending a prompt! This AU is the most requested one that I get so I’m glad I was able to write a little first date bit to establish it a little more! I hope you liked it and thanks again!

#percy and annabeth #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth au #actress annabeth #barista Percy #first date

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yespolkadotkitty · 4 years

Note

This was HARD!!1 I don't know how you guys write, I can't put a prompt together... Ok! So, how about that list of prompts with character being so tired they can't walk straight, lean everywhere, "no I'm not tired, you're tired!!", and then finally manage to get them to sleep, and some sweet comfort 🥺 With Ezra, because I LOVE your Ezra!! 🥺

Thank you friend! Okay this sort of ran away from me a bit but I hope you like it.

You return to your homestead just as the twin moons are rising, signifying the encroaching dusk. A light is on inside, and your whole body warms when you think of Ezra waiting for you. This much you know: you will always be there for each other, a warm hug, a soft word, a tender kiss. Ezra has filled you up, touched your heart in a way no one else ever will.

You unlock the door and Ezra turns from where he’s sitting on the floor, a bunch of photographs spread out before him.

He looks tired, the crow’s feet at the edges of his soulful brown eyes more pronounced, his back slumped with exhaustion.

You open your mouth, then shut it again, and come to sit behind him, bracketing his legs with yours and resting your cheek on his back.

“You didn’t sleep while I was away?”

“No restful sleep without you by my side, Hummingbird,” he grumbles. “‘Sides. I’m not tired.”

You choke back a laugh. He is so tired you can almost see the exhaustion coming off his big body in waves.

“Of course not,” you say seriously. “What’re you doing?”

Ezra picks up a photograph of a girl you now know to be Cee, her pale face curved in a smile, her blonde hair framing her face. “Thinkin’ on this little bird. She lives on in my heart, but where in the ‘verse she went, I have no idea.”

“We could look for her,” you suggest.

Ezra sighs deeply. “A possibility I ruminate upon endlessly,” he admits at length. “But for what purpose? What would be my endgame here? So long as she’s alive and happy, that’s all I want.” He sets the picture down and smooths his palm along yours where it rests on his stomach, twining your fingers together. “Enough of my melancholy. I made something for you to eat.”

Your stomach perks up at this. “Let’s see it!”

You stand up first, offer Ezra your hand. He can get up from sitting with his one arm, but it’s tricky sometimes, especially when he’s tired. He wobbles a little, then takes your palm and you pull him up.

“You should sleep,” you chide him.

“Kevva knows I’ll sleep when I’m ready,” he grumbles, and you roll your eyes at his back.

“I saw that, Hummingbird,” he mutters, and that only makes you laugh.

In the kitchen by the big stove, Ezra takes the lid off the pot and breathes in appreciatively. “Still smells favourable, at least.”

You take out two dishes and Ezra serves up. His face is drawn with tiredness; he looks older than he is.

“Will you sleep, if I eat this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Seems I can deny you nothing,” he acquiesces, and you both sit at the table to eat.

Ezra is more confident with his one arm these days; he eats with ease. Dressing is slightly more complicated, but before he met you he visited a seamstress on Zahar-4 who altered his clothes to make it simpler - poppers rather than buttons, velcro rather than zips.

“It’s good,” you say as your tongue curls around the flavours of paprika and black pepper. “Really good.”

He grunts in reply, chewing, and you know he’s really tired. He has to stop this; has to stop staying awake if you’re away for more than one day.

Although you can hardly judge - sleeping is a fool’s endeavour for you without the comforting warmth of his rangy body stretched out beside you.

Ezra almost drops his fork when he stands to tidy the dishes, and your patience frays.

“Ezra, for Kevva’s sake! Bed, now.”

“Don’t have it in me to refuse such a request, Hummingbird, but I may not be up to the activities you have in mind,” he slurs, and you roll your eyes and sling his good arm over your shoulders, helping him up the stairs. He almost stumbles a few times but you get him to the bedroom safely. He stands obediently like a child, as you undress him and then yourself, and help him into the bed.

“Never could resist a woman who takes charge,” he murmurs, eyes drifting closed, and you scoff silently. Even when dead on his feet, he can’t shut up.

“C’mere,” he begs, the last of his strength being sapped by the sheer comfort of the bed, and you give in, curling around him on his armless side, stroking your leg over his, snuggling in, your nose in the wisps of hair that curl at the nape of his neck. You stretch your arm over his torso and he threads his fingers through yours, his breathing slowing.

“You have to try and learn and sleep without me,” you whisper into his skin.

“A fruitless aspiration, for sure,” his reply comes back, husky, sleep-edged. “You’re a part of me, Hummingbird, as truly as if you run in my veins, and when you’re away, it’s like my heart endeavouring to live outside my chest.”

A tear tracks down your cheek at his words, and you cuddle as close as you can, breathing in this man who has woken your heart up after years of slumber, when you were just processing air and mistakenly calling it living.

“I love you, Ezra,” you say into the comfort of his embrace, but he’s already slipped into sleep, and eventually, you join him.

Unbeta’d. Tagging @songsformonkeys @littlemissthistle @badassbaker @build-a-bucky @alldatalost @keeper0fthestars @pedrosasscal @dindjarindiaries @agentpike @hopelessromanticspoonie @just-the-hiddles @pedropascalito @spacegayofficial @tiffdawg @abuttoncalledsmalls - Please ask to be added or released from the taglist!

#ezra x reader #ezra prospect #pedro pascal x reader #Hummingbird 'verse

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myheartmightexplode · 5 years

Text

Tarsus iv

Summary

Big, black holographic letters before a plain white wall. A name seared into his memory like a fresh burn scar that itched, stung and roared when touched, followed by the most bullshitty question he had ever heard, in neat, 20 % transparent letters:

TARSUS IV - Were Kodos' actions defendable?

Anyone who has ever been in a class, has usually met that one guy.

'That one guy' is the guy who, without fail, doesn't arrive a second before he has to. And after a week or so of finding the barely-in-time arrival annoying, you just get used to it, and stop paying it attention altogether.

Therefore, no student really cared when one infamous James T. Kirk deftly slid into the auditorium to the beep of an attendance card and the hiss of the doors sealing shut behind him. This was also why his best friend, Leonard "Bones" McCoy, didn't have to follow his eye roll up with any kind of comment; as Interspecies Ethics 241 approached its end, any snide comments he could come up with had all been said once or twice before.

Neither he, nor Spock - a vulcan exchange student that decided to stay behind on Earth after his semester was up, and also the only of Jim's bedroom encounters with aliens that stayed tangled in the sheets - started when blonde hair and a cheerful grin climbed not as much as leaned over the two back rows of the auditorium and shoved them apart, to press an out-of-breath kiss to green-tinged lips.

"C'mon, Bones, move over."

Bones let out a snort. "If you wanna sit with the cool kids, you gotta be on time." Jim opened his mouth to complain, but was cut off with a sharp, "it's full, Jim! Go sit in the back."

Respect and discipline was two values which Starfleet Academy held highly, so when the guest lecturer started speaking, Jim merely gave his friend an ugly look and struggled himself into the back row, splitting up a couple of friends.

He hadn't unpacked his bag or sunk into his not-nearly-cushioned-enough-but-apparently-ergonomic seat before the lecturer announced the theme of his lecture, and in the same breath, captured Jim's attention like no teacher could ever hope to do.

TARSUS IV - Were Kodos' actions defendable?

He stood, and gestured for the girl next to him to stand. When she didn't react, merely cast a look at him that asked him how stupid he was or what he was on, he grit his teeth and shoved past her, probably painfully crashing into knees and stepping on toes and backpacks on the way, but with a numbing anger, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Affronted, their teacher rose from her seat next to the controls to the holo, hissing an accusing "Cadet!" as the door next to her opened with the internal override.

Not turning away from the lecturer, who busily continued as if nothing had happened, Bones scoffed at the vague shape in the corner of his eye of a fellow student flipping the bird on their way out. Some people just had to make a scene.

When the class ended, Bones turned to see that Jim had run ahead of them, which, though uncharacteristic of him, wasn't surprising. Bones knew better than to expect Jim to act a certain way; the guy always ended up doing the exact opposite. Whether it was because he liked to fuck with people's heads, or it was just in his nature to be unpredictable, Bones had yet to find out.

Spock didn't talk a lot unless prompted to do so by Jim, so the walk to the absolutely packed cantina was a silent one. Traveling through Monday morning hallways was a game of pinball with not-quite-awake latecomers and last minute crammers reading up on whatever subject their test would be on, which meant that securing a table was a privilege of the students quick to exit class. Neither Spock nor Bones rushed needlessly, so the discovery that Jim had secured a table for the three of them was a welcome one.

How Jim had already acquired lunch as well, though, was a bit of a mystery. That Bones got an avoidance rather than an answer when he asked as much was even more of one.

"Sorry. Just had to run ahead," he answered, attempting to fit half a sandwich in his mouth and not chewing thoroughly before gulping the chunk down in a manner similar to a bird of prey in a hurry. "I skipped breakfast this morning, so I was— I'm—" Jim cut himself off with an odd expression in favor of shoving more food into his oral cavity.

Bones stared expectantly. "Starving, Jim. You can say it if you try hard enough," he teased. Spock, as per usual, misunderstood him, and saw his chance to demonstrate his knowledge to his inferior human companions.

"Indeed, it is not a word considered 'taboo' amongst humans, especially since a famine has not occurred since late 21st century, due to advanced—"

"The fuck it hasn't. Just because Vulcan and Earth has a limitless food supply, it doesn't mean that the rest of the universe is as lucky."

Spock didn't appear offended, but something about his face made it clear that he didn't appreciate much being interrupted and belittled in the same sentence. Leonard assumed that his own face was just as expressive.

"'The hell, Jim? We're talking about Earth, not the rest of the universe. What crawled up your ass and died?" He would probably be amused that Jim had managed to eat half his lunch with an impressive three bites, but was a bit too busy feeling secondhand offense from Spock when all Jim saw fit to answer with was a scoff. "Don't get all touchy over Tarsus IV. 'S only a week long subject."

Spock suppressed an instinctual wince as James' metal chair scraped over the stone floor, creating a noise that cut painfully into his ears.

"I forgot my PADD in the classroom," he stated, abandoning his lunch as he collected his jacket and bag, throwing over his shoulder as he went: "See you in Nonverbal Communication."

Spock had, and suspected McCoy had as well, seen his beloved store away his PADD in his bag as they were approaching his acquired table, and therefore immediately revealed the statement to be invalid. What reason Jim would have to make the untruthful statement, however, Spock didn't know. He decided to voice as much. "I am struggling to understand the human tendency of 'lying white.'"

"White lies, Spock. It's 'white lies.'" Bones was torn between wanting to laugh at the vulcan, and buy him an educational book on FSE expressions, but thoughts of Jim distracted him. He sighed. "Yeah, me neither."

The day after, Jim was wholly absent from class. Spock would easily admit that he did not understand this sudden behavior of James'. While his 'boyfriend' might certainly not be the most logical of humans, he could always be trusted to do his very best in every situation, and always 'come out on top.' While often absentminded, always listening. While perpetually late, never did he skip class. Unless he was not feeling well?

Jim had taken up the habit of always calling Spock sometime between 23:48 and 00.07 every evening, which meant they had half an hour for talking before Spock begun his meditation. Their nightly conversations were illogical, as they rarely had anything of importance to discuss that could not be discussed at another more favorable time, but most nights, they provided Spock with a sense of calm, which aided him in his meditation later, and he felt himself growing fond of them in a way that surely was not vulcan.

There had been no such call the previous night, and as Jim always was the one to start the conversations, Spock had taken this as a need for privacy, and refrained from calling Jim himself.

Now that the classroom doors sealed shut, preventing latecomers from disturbing the rest of the class, Spock was left unsettled. McCoy, beside him in the same seats as the previous day, looked around the room, restlessly.

Seeming not to find what he was searching for, he settled down with notes from the previous lesson in front of him. "Probably slept in," he mumbled, as the lecturer started speaking.

Unsure of how to put words to his 'gut feelings,' Spock kept quiet.

Tarsus IV was an uncomfortable topic, and also one of the reasons that Bones wasn't all that fond of the big, black, star spangled silence up there. After all, Earth was a very safe place to live, with everything you needed at least somewhere nearby, and a lot of safety nets if something should go wrong. Serving on a star ship, or at a base somewhere on a barren planet several lightyears away from civilization, you had no safety nets. Limited supplies and death in all directions.

And still, the only place he truly belonged.

Even if Tarsus IV reminded him just where he was going and how bad an idea it really was, he kept a straight face and his fingers steady when they broke up in groups for discussions, listened to witness descriptions and took notes during the lengthy lecture on theories and controversies on and around the still touchy subject. The lecturer treated the whole topic tastefully, theorizing rather then concluding, which was a rare find, as most people seeking to comment on the incident either were theorists who painted it as a cruel massacre and wholeheartedly believed Starfleet to be behind the whole thing and Kodos still alive, or professors who had found proof that everything had gone to plan, and no innocent life had been stolen.

Bones did find the guest lecturer interesting, but not half as much as Spock, it seemed. He had attempted to mock the vulcan for it, but black eyes had turned to him sharply, and merely stated that "the conflict between logic and ethics is extremely fascinating, and Dr. Durmeg seems to have conducted thorough research, with valuable findings that may be the most relevant information pertaining to the discussion of Tarsus IV ethics." Sometimes Bones wondered why he bothered.

The walk towards the lunch hall was less obstructed on a late tuesday, and for once, Spock elected to talk during the whole walk. Bones didn't know if the vulcan brain allowed vulcans to process more information at one time than the human brain did, or if it was just Spock, but the young man had come up with some 'extremely fascinating' theories that had Bones wondering if he shouldn't be right up there beside the lecturer.

He wasn't done talking when he reached the table that Jim - mysteriously - had captured a second day in a row. Gracefully sliding down into the chair opposite his boyfriend, Spock busied himself with his brought, vegetarian, lunch.

"It is most unfortunate that you missed this class," he said as he released the smell of a vulcan salad from its container. It seemed to smell pleasing to him, but Bones felt mildly nauseated by the odor. Unaware of his friend's discomfort, Spock elaborated: "The Dr. Durmeg expressed interesting and valuable viewpoints on the Tarsus IV crisis."

Jim's vague hum seemed to confirm the statement, and discourage rather than encourage an elaboration, but the tone was either lost on or ignored by Spock.

"Indeed, he made some quite convincing arguments that Kodos' action were entirely justifiable—"

"Nothing about Kodos is justifiable."

Spock seemed to consider the statement for a second, tilting his head. "Had you attended class—"

"We're through."

"I beg your pardon?"

Jim stood, locking his PADD and putting it away. "We're over, Spock."

And in the next second, Jim was gone.

Spock tried, futilely, to grab onto a sensible thought that would explain these actions. He turned to McCoy.

"I am not entirely sure that I understand the full meaning of this particular human—"

"He…" Bones narrowed his eyes at the hallway where Jim had disappeared. "He just broke up with you."

He hadn’t slept for days, hunger gnawing at his insides as if his body could eat itself inside out and survive that way, dull teeth scraping at his nerve endings as he felt as if he had a black hole inside of him that was pulling at him, rendering him immobile and whimpering.

Tara had fallen to her death, slipped somewhere she should’ve been safe but wasn’t because she was sluggish and blinded by the gnawing, and Yvonne had fallen asleep, but not woken up the next morning or the one after, and now they were down to ten, ten almost- and just-barely teenagers, nine who should’ve been safe in their beds maybe even with their parents by their sides if they were lucky and hadn’t decided to throw away the fact that they were so blessed as to be chosen for the sake of saving one single blind passenger, save him for nothing because now they were all going to die, all alone and hopeless, now that the darkness came and stole him away, as he passed out because he was too hungry and too cold and too hurting to fall asleep but his body couldn’t take anymore and—

Jim didn’t awake with screams and moans anymore, mainly because the nightmares didn’t plague him any longer, but also because they weren’t as much nightmares as bad memories, and if there was one thing Jim didn’t do, it was linger on the past. However, the experiences left him shaking, cold and with a wave of nausea washing over him as he stretched out under the sheets, just to feel the soft cotton all around him, just to forget the sensation of wet, dirty, sandy clothes clinging to his body.

The room was completely dark, but the window let in a slight shimmer of blue light that caressed his desk, the spines of the books in the book shelf, the night stand and the empty right side of the bed. With a shaking breath, he reached for his cell phone, ignoring the glaring numbers of the display in favor of thumbing through his programmed contacts, not trusting his voice to carry the voice commands correctly.

It wasn’t until his thumb rested over the name so dear to him, that he realized what he had actually done not too many hours previous.

Releasing the device with a sigh, he curled back up under the cold sheets, staring at the insides of his eyelids. Spock wouldn’t be mad, Spock would probably understand and brush it away as emotional human behavior, and act as if nothing had happened, but the sudden realization that he had broken up with Spock left him inexplicably shaken, to the core, and feeling alone and very small and like he didn’t belong.

If he didn’t cry himself to sleep, it wasn’t because the black hole in his chest didn’t hurt.

"I don’t think I’ve seen you worried before."

The observation wasn't anything but that: An observation. Interestingly enough, seeing as almost every reference McCoy made to his behavior came in the form of an insulting attempt to, presumably, elicit an emotional response.

In the same fashion, Spock voiced his observations on Jim's behavior, and the questions it had raised within him.

" I don't delude myself as to think I have gotten him pinned down, but as I've for a while studied Jim's behavioral nature, this sudden 'breaking up' seems to me unmotivated and uncharacteristically not thought through. Additionally, I have come to the conclusion that this could be related to the current lecture subject and our discussions of it, which leaves me 'puzzled.'"

Leonard cringed visibly from the strange, if not audibly painful mixture of informal and formal federation standard english. "Keep working on your colloquial english, Spock. Anyway, would've thought vulcans didn't worry."

Spock opened his mouth, to answer one remark or the other, Bones assumed, but was interrupted by the lecturer's arrival. He thought he might've caught a glimmer of disappointment in those expressionless eyes as Spock sat down next to him, swiftly entering vulcan notes into his PADD ("quite logically, seeing as the experience would not only ensure easier and more correct recalling of the lesson, while simultaneously provide exercise in FSE to GV translation.")

The belated beep of the attendance card distracted him, though, and he turned in his seat to face his romantic partner - his boyfriend - who again had arrived barely on time, his appearance speaking of an insufficient amount of sleep. Beautiful blue eyes sought his, and Jim sent him a tight smile.

When Spock returned his smile (or what he hoped came across as one) with a slight nod and warm eyes, Jim could finally breathe out, and try a happier expression. He sunk into an end seat in the back, and drew out his PADD.

He didn't particularly want to be there, but then again, he didn't particularly want to be single any longer than he had to, (although he was pretty sure Spock had no idea what "we're through" meant anyways.) So he tuned out everything else, and started drafting up an explanation that wouldn't set off Spock's internal lie-detector, or leave anything for his vulcan curiosity to latch onto.

An hour passed by without making itself known as Jim debated family problems, insomnia, existential crisis, hell, even male PMS, and he had a good thousand words worth of half-assed stories when he became aware of the silence. Not break-silence with co-student chattering, not lecture-silence with the lecturer mumbling to himself during stops in his presentation, not note-taking silence with tap-tap-tapping on PADDs. Just silence.

Worrying that he might have been asked a question he wouldn't have the faintest idea of an answer to, he drew a breath, and looked up.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't the gazes of a hundred and fifty six students, one guest lecturer and one teacher simultaneously directed at him.

He sent a look at Spock and Bones, fully intending to have them explain what was going on via eye contact, but the sad, pitying? look on Bones' face, and Spock's suddenly calculating eyes made him wary.

Turning his eyes to the front of the auditorium, his mouth went dry, and the black hole returned.

Spock returned his eyes to the hologram that had put a stop to the lesson.

Younger, thinner, paler, more haunted, hair dirtied by dust or dirt and with barely discernible tear tracks burrowing their way down a blank face, stood his boyfriend by a rescue shuttle, the Platon, the first shuttle to touch down on Tarsus IV after the Kodos incident.

The hologram was highly pixelated and taken from a low angle, and this, along with the folds of clothing that obscured the motive, suggested that a compact device had been used in secrecy, to obtain the picture. Had anyone seen it be taken, the photographer would likely be reprimanded, and the picture deleted. It should have been deleted, even if it was not discovered while it was being shot. Wouldn't there be witness protection? Wouldn't someone be hired to ensure that any picture of such nature was deleted from—

Opening classroom doors spurred him from his somewhat hysterical inner debate, and before he really was aware of his actions, he had packed up and went out the door, chasing Jim's hastily retreating back.

Leonard, on the other hand, was rooted by the sudden revelation, and didn't retrieve control of his limbs until the doors swished shut behind Spock.

Swearing under his breath, he, too, rose from his seat. Every step he made towards the door and every number on the override code felt incredibly awkward and loud in the silent room, but awkwardness wasn't really what was on his mind at the moment.

Sinking down into a corner of the fire evacuation staircase, Jim didn't really feel much. There was the insane, pressing pain in his chest and burning in his eyes, and maybe he twisted his ankle on the way here, but it felt as if his mind was just a floating mass, incapable of holding a thought, resulting in a buzz, like a wrongly configured communicator. He became aware of an arm snaking around his shoulders, uncharacteristic of Spock, and a warm hand massaging his shoulder, very characteristic of Bones, and maybe it relieved the pain a bit, or maybe it didn't.

He let out a puff of laughter. "I drafted like…" He did a headcount. "Fourteen different lies to tell you."

Spock needed no further explanation. He cocked his head "I think the appropriate expression is: 'Truth will out.'"

Jim neither corrected or laughed at the erroneous use of the saying, and instead snorted out a quick "maybe."

Leonard ground his teeth, rubbing his best friend's shoulder in what he hoped was a soothing manner, while he tried to sort out his thoughts before his mouth could spew something that went unchecked by his brain. 'I'm sorry' were the most pressing words, but they were lame, and Jim would probably appreciate them as much as he appreciated a fucking hologram that confirmed him as one of the nine Tarsus IV survivors being stretched out over the holoscreen in front of a whole class of starfleet cadets.

It wasn't very surprising that Jim was the first one to speak, because there wasn't a whole lot to say. The words surprised all of them though. Including Jim himself.

"I wasn't supposed to be on Tarsus IV," he confessed, grabbing a random thought out of his head and pulling it out of his mouth. And when he started talking, everything else came detached, easily:

"I snuck onto a ship to get over there. I was just so sick of Frank and Winona and Iowa that I figured I'd go somewhere they couldn't get to me. Somewhere they couldn't just… Go act all worried in front of the police and get them to haul my ass back into the house when I wanted to be alone."

He blinked repeatedly to clear his vision again, and dared a glance up at the two best people in the world. They radiated endless patience and comfort, and something that the black hole didn't take, blossomed in his chest.

"Uh… I was in eight or ninth grade, and there was this summer camp, or school, I guess, over at Tarsus IV. An advanced academical course for kids and language courses for parents and guardians, and everyone would live in really cramped houses. I was bored out of my mind with regular school, so I really wanted to go, but Winona wouldn't take me, and hell would freeze over before I took Frank, and I obviously couldn't go alone, so I snuck aboard the ship."

The three of them were all sitting down now, and even if he leaned a little heavily into the arm that was still slung awkwardly around his shoulders (he appreciated the gesture too much to shake it off, even if it felt strange,) it felt like they were just hanging out, talking about whatever crossed their mind. Even now that there was only really one thing on their minds.

"I hid in the room of my classmates on the ship over, and hacked into their databases while they were still unprotected to put my name into the class. I still had to hide in Thomas' closet when we got to Tarsus, though, because I couldn't figure out a way to assign myself some sort of housing, but you know. It just became a kid's game. Hiding from the parents, unless I wanted to be sent back home. Class was challenging, but that's what I went there for, so I had a really great time.

"I guess you know what happened next." He shrugged. "Food went bad, communication lines went down and Kodos decided it was time to play god. Fuck, he had like, a screen to relay public announcements on, and at first, we thought it was really funny in a very pretentious way, but…"

Jim didn't realize he was crying until a salty tear ran down into his mouth, and when the taste hit his tongue, his throat started tightening up. "Just, seeing a huge face of some guy who you really, really trusted before, because he was the fucking governor of the colony, saying that you and you and you have to kindly go die…

"This guy in my class, Kevin Riley, his parents were on the dead list. What kind of monster kills the parents of a kid, and expects the kid to go on fine?

"…When they rounded up the people who were going to die because their 'existence represented a threat to the well-being of society,' it was kind of obvious that he favored kids over adults. I have no idea what he was trying to do. Build his own society, I guess. I think he just wanted to see what he could make us do.

"Anyway, they made all the people on the dead-list gather together, and people were holding onto each other and kids were trying to get through the energy field when they managed to separate all of them. And then, in one second, they were all there, and in the next, everybody had just disappeared. Not a trace there'd been anyone there. I guess we were all in shock, because no one started screaming or anything, and I was just thinking that I was really lucky that I wasn't on the living-list, because it meant I'd sure as hell not be put on the death-list."

Jim chucked darkly. "God, I'd just thought the thought, and the moment after, the peace keeping forces, peace keeping, yeah right, they point their phaser rifles at us, and Kodos isn't looking nice anymore, and he just says that 'there are some blind passenger on Tarsus IV,' and my blood just froze. I was sure they knew who I was and where I was, and I had no idea what to do. He started saying something about how even one more person alive would mean 'slow death to the more valued members of society,' and we kids just panicked. I don't know how many of us there were, but someone pulled me along, and half my class started running for anywhere else. I can't even remember where we hid, I just remember trying so hard not to get caught.

"We had to hide away for one and a half weeks. They fed the 'valued members of society' in a closed area, and no one got to bring any food out, so we tried to find food elsewhere, but it just wasn't ever enough, and god, I thought a day without food was bad, but that was just hell. Freddie from our class gave up after a while and ran to Kodos' soldiers to get some food, but I don't know what Kodos told them, that they had to obey him or something unless he'd kill them, maybe, but they just took him somewhere, and he never came back.

"We hid around the housing area for another half week and I thought we were going to die that one day, but suddenly, someone got the communication back up working, and they signaled starfleet to come and rescue us, and I guess Kodos heard about that, because the soldiers just started firing away at everybody, so we just, we ran away as far as possible from any building we could see, so we hid in some unfinished buildings, and Tara fell off the top of the building and died, and Yvonne and Mark just stopped waking up after a couple of days of hiding."

Suddenly, his words came like a rush, as if he couldn't get them away from him, out of him, fast enough. They tasted like poison on his tongue.

"They found us, two soldiers, or three I guess, and they fired at random into the building, so we found some crates to hide in and under and behind, but Linn wasn't fast enough and she disappeared, and Thomas was just barely, by a hair fast enough to only get half his face blown away when we ducked. We hid away for three hours just holding our breath and not making noises, and then we had to take off our t-shirts to press them against Thomas' face so he wouldn't bleed to death. I have no idea why we didn't just let him bleed out, because it was just naïve and stupid to think that anyone would come to our rescue after all that time, but they did, they did, and…"

He doubled over with a choked sob, and both Spock and Bones were there to catch him, embrace him, rub at him and warm up his shaking, inexplicably cold body.

"I don't know why I'm crying," he whispered, voice hoarse. "I'm over this. I left it behind. It's so, so long ago."

"Bullshit," mumbled Bones right back. "You'd have to be made outta titanium to just leave behind something like this."

"Sharing worries and 'venting emotions' seem to be an effective way of dealing with such problems, Jim. There is no shame in attempting to relieve your pain."

He shook his head. "Four people died because of me. Possibly five."

Warm lips pressed to his temple. "And I grieve with thee, Jim, but--"

The warmth in his chest was back, and the black hole felt as if it had lost it's strength. Even as he untangled himself from the unbelievably emotional display, he felt comforted. He smiled, mainly to himself. "No one's ever told me that before."

"'Bout time we did, then." Bones stood, and offered a hand, which Jim took.

"Let's get to lunch," he said, patting his friends' backs decisively. "Let's count the stares I get when we get to the cafeteria."

Bones thought Spock looked vaguely amused, and saved the visual for future reference. However: "Your face is all red and puffed, by the way."

Jim started rubbing furiously at his face, which probably wouldn't help at all. "Shut up, Bones. Your face is red and puffy. What happened to 'you did a great job, Jim?'"

"I'm a doctor, not a psychologist. I've dashed out enough comfort today," he snorted. "Time to get you to act more like Jim always-arriving-late Kirk and less like a wuss."

"Hey, I don't always arrive late."

"Yeah, you really do, actually. You're gonna be late for your own funeral, someday."

"You're like the worst friend ever. Spock, tell Bones that he's the worst friend ever."

"As I have not yet befriended every person 'ever,' as you say, I cannot ascertain that he is the worst friend ever."

"Spock, you're the worst boyfriend ever."

Spock merely raised an eyebrow at the accusation, tuning out the inevitable jab at Jim's 'taste in men' that Bones was very likely to make. Instead, it seemed impossible to tear his eyes away from the wide grin that spoke warmly of the human trait of getting through anything anyone 'threw their way.'

#star trek #spock #kirk #sprik #tarsus iv #fic

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beeshavethrees · 4 years

Note

I'm a bit confused on what was going on with the "Alex" thing with the Clipped AU. Is there more of the story somewhere else? A story where he's moved on and stuff? Is that just someone speculating and whatnot?

Okay! Let’s explain (I’m assuming this is in reference to the post from the askblog I reblogged). This is long, so it’s going under the cut!

Basically, the Clipped askblog was originally going to run tangent to the actual story (all of these are links). This is how my other askblog, @ask-hamilton-fantasy works, although that one mainly serves to go into detail on things that don’t get as much of a spotlight in the main story. I technically have a third askblog that follows along with TJINCOFM, but that one is less of an askblog and more of a “general fic-related things” blog.

Unfortunately, while the askblog for the Clipped AU got quite a few questions right at the start, a lot of the people there hadn’t read the fic or wanted to see more of the story. Clipped has gone through a couple major hiatus periods before I return to work on it (although I’ve gotten much better about updating my fics now than I was in the past), so I was getting lots of questions moving the “plot” of the askblog along without the story catching up with it.

As such, the askblog itself became an AU of its own (the same AU the one-shots are in). It’s basically an AU where the revolution happens much more slowly, so while things are brewing in the background, Alexander ends up stuck with Thomas and they eventually become friends and lovers. In the main story, quite a bit more action will happen and their relationship will be different, but the askblog is a much more calm AU.

The askblog helps to answer background information on characters we haven’t seen yet in the story, since the INFORMATION is canon to the main story (ex. Seabury was tortured and brainwashed), but the story the askblog tells is not.

I have been writing for Clipped for something like 2 years now, during which I went from a questionable artist to actually making decent money off of commissions (which you wouldn’t be able to tell based on the shoddy sketches I post here, but as I am a fantasy artist and don’t draw often humans, I digress), so the quality has changed a lot. Similarly, my understanding of history, my personal views, and the values I aim to write for in my stories have changed DRAMATICALLY. As such, I DO NOT recommend trying to start from the beginning and read from there, but instead, here’s a summary of the main plotlines (this is based on my own memory, so it’ll be fairly general):

Thomas is battling with the fear of losing Alexander after he lost his previous wife, and as such, is forced to loosen up and be a better person. He and Alexander eventually start dating, but Thomas is still twitchy about losing him; those who interact on the askblog convince him to take Alexander out on a special date after understandably chewing him out, at which point he gives Alexander his freedom, his flight, and objects from his home back in Nevis to make him happier. Alexander also gets into contact with his family again. Eventually, Alexander realizes that if he and Thomas are to really have a decent relationship as equals, they can’t do it when he still feels like he’s treated as being less than Thomas. So, he decides to run away to Thomas’ summer home in Virginia, eventually coming to terms with how he feels. He then returns to New York and breaks up with Thomas, the two deciding to try things again as friends and equals before they can move back to a romantic partnership.

Charles Lee is not a coward, but he doesn’t agree with how the revolution is led (nor how he is treated). Despite this, he’s rather interested in one of the only other people outside of the Washington family he regularly sees (Samuel Seabury), and at the prompting of askers, eventually tries to talk to him about his feelings. It comes out that Seabury is in an incredibly unhealthy and dangerous relationship where he was tortured/brainwashed into complete submission to his owner, at which point the ask blog participants help break Seabury out of his mental block, try to restore some of his past memories, and help Charles break Seabury out and hide him from his owner.

Small, character building plotlines that’ll come up later in the main story (ex. it comes out that John was a teen parent, and his son is now taken care of by the Washingtons for “publicity” reasons.)

The various background plotlines that don’t really go anywhere, mostly because they were taken from the original story, and also due to disinterest from the blog mods/askers (ex. Angelica murdering someone and running away).

So, in summary: the askblog had its own plot due to how long it took me to write for the main story. Over time, I stopped answering questions, people stopped being interested, and it all sort of faded away as the plot of that blog came to its natural conclusion (because the main story is about the revolution, there was no point into getting into the details on the askblog).

I’ll be honest -- running those ask blogs is a TON of fun when people are asking questions, and I’d love to start up another one (or even reboot the Clipped AU askblog fresh, finally running alongside the main story). Currently I really only run @ask-hamilton-fantasy as a fun little side-project (it’s not very large, haha), but I do answer all the questions I receive on it.

#Anonymous #Hamilton Clipped AU #hamilton: an american musical

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undercovermcdfan · 7 years

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Hey I'm new to this and I don't really know how it works so um... ‘a man who can’t die is no tragic hero.’ centered around Vylad? Maybe?

‘a man whocan’t die is no tragic hero.’

title: tea and cake

summary: A conversation over some tea during astormy afternoon. Vylad-centric. MCD pre-season 3.

a/n: So, this is so… loosely based offthe prompt, I’m so sorry??? It was supposed to be something deeper andVylad-centric but I ended up writing him having a conversation with Isabel andthrew in a bit of Vylance because I’m a sucker for that pairing? I hope youlike it—I thought it was rather cute, even if it’s so… loosely based off such agood prompt jfc. I might take another shot at it on another date.

warning(s): fluff, tea, Isabel being a sweetie

Rainfall doesn’t bring melancholy feelings it once did.

As denizens scurried, seeking shelter in the nearby establishmentsor rushing home, he stood there in the street. His cloak, soaked. His hair,flatten against his forehead. The comforting rumble of distant storm thisintense rain was bring only made him want to shut his eyes, listening as hisbreathed out even breaths and lulled into a fond memory which rain only broughtnow.

Irene island went from a peaceful village to a sprawlingcity. It’s impressive, walking down the cobbled streets and not recognizing thebuildings, nor knowing which turn to take even though it’s been a year or sosince he decided to stop by.

He watched as a mother pulled along her inquisitive child,chided him softly when the child attempted to jump into the large puddle formingon the side of the road and adjusted her umbrella.

An older gentleman holding a newspaper over his head,squinting to the sky and grumbling something Vylad couldn’t quite catch beforeheading back inside the tavern.

A young girl who ran a storefront staring at him concernedand mild curiosity from behind the glass window. He spared her a glance and shelooked away quickly, embarrassed for being caught.

Ah, well Ican’t drag my feet any longer. He pulled up his hood, andhurried down the road—he was late enough already.

He wasn’t sure when he indulged Isabel and her requests tosee him whenever she heard he was in town.

Honestly, she shouldn’t have known—Vylad preferred his methodof dropping in and leaving when he’s finish reporting of whatever informationhe managed to gather. But by chance, the other day, she caught him— “Two years and you haven’t change one bit,”she said in giggly tone—and managed to rope him into staying for another day,to visit her.

Maybe it’s nostalgia; he couldn’t quite say they were friendsbut Isabel had a charm that’s hard to place and a presence which reminded himof a caring mother mixed with enthusiasm of a child—if she wasn’t hanging offthe arms of Laurance or Katelyn, tending to the younger kids that took upresidence on the island, or buzzing like the more social creature that she was,she’d always hunt him down to ask some questions (usually to satisfied hercuriosity about his ‘mysterious’ nature). She rarely caught him, true, butafter a while, she grew on him like Laurance told him she would.

And after a while, sometimes he’d seek her out. Strange howmissing the same person could make an unlikely pair—and they were the mostunlikely.

He, quiet and never much to say beyond being an ear she couldtalk to tirelessly.

She, understanding way of speaking and made warm tea with thesweet cakes whenever he visited.

The place she called home was small and humble, sandwichedbetween two other homes; on the upper left windowsill, he could spot a smallgarden and a welcome mat was on the top of the steps that led up. It said ‘welcome’,in blocky letters and a simple picture of a kitten pawing at the ‘e’ inwelcome.

She opened the door on the third round of knocking, looking alittle disheveled and flustered but smiling brightly when she saw him.

“I’m so sorry,” she ushered him in, smoothing down her hair—it’sshorter now, something he didn’t note until now; she frowned, giving him a onceover, “You’re soaked! Don’t tell me you walked here without an umbrella, Vylad.”

He shrugged off his cloak, and she immediately took it,propping it on a coat rack and a grimace at the water droplets dripped onto thefloor. “It started raining as I was walking.”

“Still not a reason to just… never mind,” she sighed, holdingup a hand, “Wait here. I’ll give you something to dry off.”

And she disappeared back up the stairs.

There was evidence she didn’t live alone. The open closet hadmore coats than necessary for just one person, and the number of shoes it held—Isabelalways been on the humbler side of living and even if she grew a taste ofshopping, he was doubtful she’d owned thatmany.

When she returned, throwing the towel on his head andinstructing him to take off his shoes— “I spent all day mopping. I’m notletting you track mud in here.”, she hurried away again, into the kitchen sheassumed.

There wasn’t much of a living room area, so of course hefollowed her, undoing his bun as he started to dry it off his hair.

He zoned out slightly as she started to chatter; taking upseat on one of the two chairs in the kitchen, he mused at the cutesydecorations adorning the table, walls, around the small kitchen.

“—anyway, it was lucky I decided to make a run to the bakerythis morning rather than later; the weather been so gloom and doom the pastcouple of days,” she said, placing tea in front of him before placing the milkand sugar cube; of course, he went straight for the sugar cube, adding two tohis drink as he gave quiet thanks. “Hmm.”

He paused, glancing up and Isabel waved her hand beforeletting out a small laugh. “Oh nothing. I was remembering something,” shesmiled, as she turned away to fetch her own cup and the cakes she alreadyprepared on a tray, “Remember three years ago, when the island had only Aphmau,Travis—you know. Before the island was theisland. And there was that nasty storm.”

His brow raised, absentmindedly rubbing his hair. “I do.”

“And remember how we both got caught in it? The lectureLaurance gave us…” the soft smile faded for just a moment before it returnedbrightly, she slid the cake and fork towards him, taking a seat, “I never sawyou look so embarrassed until that day, honestly. I didn’t know if you could feel embarrassed? Or look so uncool.” Henarrowed his eyes and frowned. But she shrugged off his gaze, rather, she wasgrinning now at his expression. “He even made you sit down and dry off your hairafter you sneak off.”

Normally, the reminder of… him would leave his heart aching.But never with Isabel, she never let either dwell on the bitterness of the facthe was gone.

“He was treating me like a child.” He took a bite of cake.

“In his defense, it’s a little childish to run off.”

He squints at her, pointing his fork with an accusatory point.She shrugged, continuing the story, “You looked like an angry cat. And Laurancekept talking and talking, how we both were asking for a cold.”

“You did catch a cold.”

“Huh, I did, didn’t I?” she chuckled, before softly sighing, “…youknow. Sometimes I miss it. Miss Laurance being around. When he left, everybodyended up going their separate ways… especially you.” He took a sip of her histea, avoiding with her searching eyes as she looked at him. “Do you ever wonderwhat he’s up to?”

…Maybe he should take back the statement of the ache nevercoming.

“Every day.” He whispered, after a pause.

She hummed, propping up her cheek with her palm, “Not everyday for me… but often enough. Same with you. I wonder about you a lot. Aph toldme you been busy in Tu’la and… it’s a little worrying, you know?”

He’s quiet, taking another bite of his cake.

“I know both you and Laurance can handle yourselves… but aweak-willed maiden like me can only worry about her friends when they’re offdoing whatever dangerous things they do. I hate how much of a pessimist I’vebecome.”

“You’re not weak-willed.”

“Ah,” her eyes still read sadness but a fond smile appearedagain, “I’m ‘soft hearted’ as you all put it.”

He shook his head. “Isabel. You don’t want to be like me. OrLaurance—he wasn’t…”

“Happy. I know,” she sighed, stirring her tea as she shut hereyes, “Something to do with that shadow knight business, right? He always triedbut… anybody could see he was struggling at times.” Vylad swallowed thickly—andthe tea didn’t help. Isabel continued, “You struggle with it to. At leastLaurance had you… you’re all alone, and always away, sometimes I wonder what ifthe next time I hear about you i-is… you know. It’s your job and you’re servingfor heroic reasons but… it’s… lonely, isn’t it? I know you a-are.”

Part of him froze, instinctively, when he saw a tear roll downher cheek—like always did when he saw her cry. He never was the type to comfortbut pity filled his heart whenever he saw the young woman cry.

“Isabel.” She sniffed, quickly wiping away the tears butbefore she could have uttered an apology, he cut her off, giving a tentativesmile, “I appreciate your concern. What I do… isn’t heroic like you say, I mustconfess.” He paused, collecting his words as he chewed on a piece of cakethoughtfully—Isabel got up for a moment to fetch the kettle and pour them bothanother cup. “I am lonely. Sometimes I think I took up the task to punishmyself.”

“Punish?”

He nodded, “It’s complicated… but yes. For somebody likemyself, I don’t really deserve your tears. I only been selfish.”

The silence was… uncomfortable. He closed his eyes. He couldstill hear the rumbles of thunder and the house slightly shook from the strongwinds the storm was bringing.

But her tone shifted when she spoke up, breaking the silence.“…It isn’t a crime to feel what you feel. I know you aren’t… talkative aboutthis, but it’s okay to feel lonely and not feel at home here on this island.Also,” she smiled, “You are a hero. You do heroic stuff. And selfish or not, I’llstill cry over a dear friend.”

“...friend.”

“Yes,” she giggled, knocking on the table, “No matter whatyou say, we are friends! End of discussion.”

Vylad sighed. I supposethere’s no point to argue. He then reached for his cake, abandoning thepolite eating and held it, shoveling the rest into his mouth.

Isabel laughed at that, throwing her head back. “I knew youwere holding back!” she got up, smiling, “Let me get you another piece—I gottenextra for you and the fact Amber has bit of a sweet tooth.”

He perked up. “Amber?”

Isabel smiled, brightening up again, “Oh. Sit tight—shoot,you missed a lot since you been gone?”

He returned her smile, small but it was still there. As shechanged the subject—now talking about this ‘Amber’ girl affectionately--, hecouldn’t help but think of her words: Youare a hero.

It was a lie. Because he was only selfish, and a person whocheats death, existing by the whims of something so unholy… he couldn’t ever bea hero.

But then again, a small voice whispered: You don’t have to be. You could do your best and just be good.

That voice suspiciously sound like one that made his heartflutter. He waved it all away.

Taking a sip from his tea, he said, “You love her.”

“Well,” Isabelblushed, her smile wide, “I mean what gave it away?”

#aphmau #minecraft diaries #vylad ro'meave #isabel mcd #i'm sorry this was a really good angst prompt #and I went sweet & casual?#i fucked it up QuQ #message me back if you want me to write an angst fic-- i promise i'll do it #also this isn't a ship fic y'all #i donut ship vylad with any girls #sorry but not sorry lmao #my writing #Anonymous

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