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seijorhi · 5 years ago

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Outrunning Fate

As promised (though I am more than a little late for Shiratorizawa Week), the soulmate AU

Tendou x female reader x Ushijima

TW stalking, possessive behaviour, implied non-con

Soulmates were supposed to be a blessing.

It was a fairytale that you’d grown up hearing about. One person who was supposed to be wholly yours.

Your parents were soulmates, even if you hadn’t always understood the concept, the proof of that remarkable, unshakable bond was always right in front of you. It wasn’t in the big grand gestures, it was little things - the soft, adoring look in your father’s eye as your mother passed him his coffee every morning, the way she always sought out his touch when they were together, even if it was just to twine her fingers with his, or the way that they always seemed to be able to sense when the other was upset, and wordlessly found the perfect way to comfort them.

Your father never had to tell you that he loved your mother, but he did, every single day. He told her too, just to see her smile.

It seemed effortless, easy, as if their love for one another was as natural as breathing. How could you be blamed for looking at your bare wrist, waiting for the day that name would appear in scrawling black ink, feeling that excited fluttering in your chest because you knew one day you’d meet your soulmate and have that perfect, fairytale love all for yourself.

Except it wasn’t like that.

Something went wrong.

***

You’re fifteen and barely paying attention in class when your skin prickles uncomfortably. Your heart leaps into your chest as you tug up the sleeve off your blazer, watching wide eyed with bated breath as a name appears on your wrist.

Tendou Satori.

The beginnings of a smile start to curl at your lips, but it freezes in place as more inky black writing appears below the first.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A second name.

And suddenly, it feels like your perfectly crafted world begins to fall apart. Two soulmates aren’t unheard of, but they’re incredibly rare and you can’t deny that there’s a certain… stigma attached to it.

What kind of a person isn’t satisfied with just one?

This is supposed to be some magical, thrilling moment for you, but instead all you can focus on is the pounding of your heart and the growing wave of nausea that rises in the back of your throat. Quickly you yank your sleeve back down and before you can even think to stutter an apology to your bewildered teacher, you’re out of your seat and sprinting down the hallway to the bathroom. You barely make it before hurling up your guts.

After that, you start wearing long sleeves wherever you go.

It’s not that you’re ashamed, you tell yourself as you bite your lip and try your utmost to fade into the background whenever the topic comes up in conversation, it’s just that… other people aren’t always so accepting.

You’ve tried to get used to the disgusted looks, the invasive questions and the insults that follow you wherever you go, but it’s easier said than done. You hate that your cheeks still burn scarlet whenever you catch someone staring at your marks, almost as much as you hate the way you quickly duck your head in shame and race to fix your sleeve.

‘It’s okay, honey. I know it’s not what you expected but… it just means there’s one more person out there waiting to love you with everything they have. You’re twice as lucky as the rest of us,’ your father had told you on that horrible day. You just wished it hadn’t sounded like he was trying to convince himself at the same time.

***

You’re seventeen and the first boy who kisses you tries to shove your hand down his pants because he knows you’ve got two names on your wrist, and that means you’re up for anything, right?

You run home with tears streaming down your face and when you shower that night you scrub at the marks like you’re trying to erase them entirely.

What did having two names mean really? That one wasn’t enough? Would they be content sharing you? Would they even know of the other’s existence?

You could only imagine how horrifying it would be for them, spending months, years waiting for you only to realise that they didn’t really have all of you…

Would they hate you? Could you even blame them if they did?

Sometimes… sometimes you think it might be better if you didn’t have a soulmate at all, instead of this. It’s easier just to ignore it, pretend they don’t exist, pretend that you’re not gonna ruin their lives. Who knows, maybe you’ll be one of those few who never actually meet their soulmates. You can live with that, you think. You have a family who love you, a bunch of close friends who’d die for you - who needs stupid soulmates?

***

It’s the morning after your 18th birthday, your head is still pounding from the alcohol and bad decisions from the night before when your curiosity finally gets the better of you. It’s the modern age, most people live their lives online, you figure you’ll find a facebook page, a twitter account maybe.

Instead, the first item that comes up in your search is a video. It’s a news segment about a volleyball game - some high school team that you’ve never heard of, but you listen to the commentator talk and your heart leaps into your throat because they mention the Ace by name and suddenly there he is. Tall, dark haired and imposing - Ushijima Wakatoshi.

But you don’t even have a moment to breathe, to focus on the absolute beast that is your second soulmate and his terrifying spike because the camera shifts and suddenly there’s another player in focus. Tall, gangly with bright, spiky red hair and a too-wide grin, “-not the only player in the spotlight after today’s match; Shiratorizawa’s middle blocker, the so called ‘Guess Monster’ Tendou Satori-”

You close the browser window and slam your laptop shut.

They’re… friends, or teammates at the very least.

It feels like a bad dream you can’t wake up from. This whole thing is already messy enough, but you can’t get in the middle of that, you refuse to make everything worse for them just because the fates have decided to play a cruel joke on you.

If there were any lingering doubt left in your mind that you’re better off burying your soulmates, they’re well and truly put to bed.

That night, you dream of a cheering crowd, the thwack of a volleyball ricocheting off a vinyl floor and two menacing figures looming over you.

With your final exams around the corner, it’s almost too easy to put the video and your soulmates out of your mind as you throw yourself into studying. Months pass in the blink of an eye and suddenly you’re dressed in black robes and holding your high school diploma. You celebrate with your friends, dancing wildly with a care-free grin long into the night because you know you’re finally getting out of there for good. Tokyo’s a big city, you’ll lose yourself there and nobody, not a single damned soul, will know about the two names that grace your wrist. It’s as close to freedom as you’re ever gonna get - and god that makes you so fucking happy.

Your bags are packed and you’re holding your parents as they sob and then, like that, you’re gone.

Tokyo awaits.

***

It’s not that easy to outrun fate.

Living in Tokyo ain’t cheap, even for the shitty little shoebox apartment you rent while you’re studying. You manage to find a job at one of the Americanised diner style cafes just down the road from where you live two weeks after moving in. It’s popular with students because it’s open till late, the coffee’s good and the waffles are exactly what the doctor ordered after a long night of drinking with your friends. You’re just happy because the pay’s pretty decent and your boss lets you bring in your laptop and textbooks so you can study when it’s not too busy. You’re not nearly as thrilled about the short, revealing blue dress that serves as your uniform, but you know when to pick your battles.

It’s a little after one o’clock on a slow Tuesday night, the cafe’s almost empty and you’re propped up on your elbows along the countertop, absentmindedly thumbing through one of your assigned readings for class tomorrow when you hear the tell-tale chime of the door opening.

You hastily shove your books aside, plastering a wide if not a little artificial smile across your face, you glance up to greet the customers, only to freeze in place.

Your heart skips a beat.

Of all the cafes in the sprawling city, of course your soulmate has to walk into this one.

With his wild, spiked red hair and easy, sloping grin, Tendou’s unmistakable as he strides through the cafe with two other guys you can only assume are his friends. You suppose you should be a little relieved that he barely spares you a glance as the threesome make a beeline for one of the corner booths, but it’s hard to feel anything other than blind panic at the sight of your soulmate only a few feet away. It’s purely out of habit that you reach for your wrist and the skin coloured bandage hiding your traitorous marks, and you allow yourself to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief when you feel it still in place.

A loud cackle bursts through the quiet atmosphere of the cafe and you dart a glance over to see Tendou with his head thrown back laughing at something one of the others has said. There’s an uncomfortable fluttering in your stomach and your cheeks redden just a touch. It’s not an awful sound (not at all), but your pulse is racing and you think you just might be sick because this is all… too much.

You’d left them in the past along with whatever fairytale fantasies you thought having a soulmate would bring. You… you’re happy being alone and coping just fine without either one of them! They were a dream - a distant possibility you’d long since locked away, you weren’t supposed to ever actually see them!

At least it’s only Tendou, you think you might actually combust if they were both here. Still, there’s a faint tremor in your hand as you brush a lock of hair out of your face and try to regain control of your breathing.

As much as you’d like to run, or preferably, have the earth suddenly open up and swallow you whole, you know you can’t. For one, you’re the only server left until close and your boss might be easy going but somehow you doubt he’d let you keep your job after a stunt like that. More importantly, you have a sinking suspicion that causing a fuss will only draw his attention and that’s the last thing you want. He doesn’t know who you are, your mark is safely tucked away under your bandages, this will be fine.

It’s an hour and a half until close, he and his friends will get some food, eat, drink and chat amongst themselves and then you can kick them out and it’ll all be over. You barely have to interact with him. For all he knows you’re just a server in a random cafe - this will be fine.

Robotically you force your legs to move, carrying you towards your oblivious soulmate. You’re pretty sure that your smile’s a little off and you haven’t quite managed to quell the shaking in your hands as you reach for your notepad, flipping it open.

It’s the best you can do, especially when there’s a voice inside your head that’s all but begging for you to turn around and pretend this whole thing never happened.

Tendou appears to be thoroughly engrossed in whatever story he’s telling his friends, waving his arms around wildly when you reach their table. Normally you’d clear your throat politely and wait for them to settle down before introducing yourself and asking for their order, but when you open your mouth - nothing comes out. It’s like your whole throat has suddenly dried up and you’re just standing there gaping like an idiot, but Tendou hasn’t even noticed.

The ashy blonde to his left, however, does. His eyes flicker to you and you swear that you can see the faintest trace of amusement as he takes you in. He smirks, quickly shoving an elbow into the redhead’s side and jerking his chin in your direction.

“Hey loudmouth, pipe down would you?”

Your breath catches as he turns around to look up at you and grins, “Ah, sorry. Didn’t see ya there!”

The other two have picked up their menus again, but for whatever reason just as Tendou’s gaze starts to slide off of you, something catches his attention and stops him in his tracks. Like a magpie spotting something shiny in the distance, those big, droopy red eyes suddenly widen and zero back in with unnerving interest. Frozen with that fake, half hearted smile painted across your lips you feel strangely like a bug caught under a microscope as Tendou studies you - there’s really no other way to describe it. His head tilts to the side and he makes a low noise from the back of his throat that almost sounds pleased.

He can’t know, there’s no possible way, but if he doesn’t then why the hell is he staring at you like that?

It’s all you can do to remain rooted in place, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs that you’re sure they have to be able to hear it too. Whatever he’s searching for he apparently finds because his grin widens and he leans back in his seat and chuckles. “Why’d you look so nervous, we’re not gonna bite - promise!”

The other guy at the table rolls his eyes, “Tendou, don’t scare the pretty waitress, she’s just trying to do her job,” he chastises, offering you an apologetic smile that does little to ease your nerves. “Don’t mind him, he’s an idiot, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

You swallow and hum in faint acknowledgment, and he takes that as a sign to begin his order.

You were hoping that they were just going to get some drinks and be out of your hair, but as he starts listing off various snacks and appetizers to share and the ashy blonde throws out a few more, it looks like your nightmare is only just beginning.

You nod dutifully, writing it all down. The cook is just going to love you for this, but there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. “Anything else?” you ask in a voice that just barely passes for what your boss deems ‘customer service appropriate’, decidedly not looking towards the redhead who is still staring at you.

He hasn’t looked at the menu once since you walked over, actually you doubt he’s looked at the menu at all, but it doesn’t seem to matter because he pipes up regardless, “Yep, one of those thickshakes, you know - the really good strawberry one, annnd-”

“Y/N, order up!!”

Your soul leaves your body at the exact same moment that Tendou’s pupils dilate and snap to your wrist.

The pen in your hand is shaking, your grip so tight that it’s a wonder the flimsy plastic doesn’t shatter as you turn to glance over your shoulder. The cook is leaning out across the overpass, staring at you with a scowl and vaguely you register the hot plate of food in front of him which can’t have been sitting there for more than a minute at the most. You give a weak nod, earning you a dismissive grunt in response, before turning back to the table.

All three of them are staring wide eyed and open mouthed at you.

Fuck.

They know. They have to know.

You should have legged it when you had the chance.

Breathe. Smile. Play dumb. This is fine.

“A-anything el-”

“Somethin’ wrong with your wrist?” Tendou asks slowly, eyeing the bandage like he wants nothing more than to snatch it up and rip it away from you. His fingers flex and you don’t even have time to brace before they’re shooting out towards you-

A hand catches his forearm before he can touch you - it’s his friend, the dark haired one with the crew cut, who’s currently staring down the erratic redhead with a distinct frown.

It’s the blonde who speaks up, “Sorry, he’s had a few drinks tonight. The idiot sometimes forgets his manners in public.”

The music is still playing in the background, somebody laughs at the table a few down from theirs, but in this little pocket, trapped between the three of them with the tension thick enough to slice with a knife, the silence is oppressive.

And then Tendou’s attention shifts back to you and your stomach flips - it’s like the floor has disappeared beneath your feet and you’re suddenly careening through the empty air with no hope in hell of slowing down.

He looks… well, mad is the wrong word. Tendou is technically smiling, but his grin stretched slightly too wide, his eyes a little too intense. There’s an emotion you can’t name etched across his pale features, and it’s unsettling… it scares you a little, if you’re being honest.

You swallow and take a tiny, shaking breath. “I-it’s fine. I tripped last week and sprained it.”

“Clumsy, are you?” he asks, prying himself free of his friend’s grip.

A laugh forces its way out, grating and too sharp to be believable. “Yeah, I guess. Your food won’t be too long, if you need anything else, just- just let me know.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond as you all but flee the table. You’re shaking and almost in tears by the time you reach the kitchen, the cook takes one look at you, a grumpy admonishment on the tip of his tongue, and falters.

They stay until close, and you avoid them like the plague.

Hours later, lying tucked up in your bed your skin still prickles from the thought of Tendou’s piercing stare. Maybe if you’d kept some kind of a level head through it all instead of acting like a flustered school girl, he might have just passed it all off as a coincidence.

But you hadn’t, had you?

It wasn’t just that he knew who you were to him (and to Ushijima) but that after all your blushing and stammering, the pitiful attempts at hiding your soulmate marks and the way you all but ran from him the very first moment you could, he had to know that you knew as well. That despite coming face to face with your soulmate, you lied - you rejected him.

You mom once told you that the first time she laid eyes on her soulmate the world stopped spinning and all she felt was joy. Maybe there’s something wrong with you after all, because despite the insistent tug in your heart, you just feel sick. Despite being exhausted after your long shift, sleep that night doesn’t come easy.

It’s two days later that you find yourself back in the cafe, working a rare day shift on your only week-days off from classes. You keep glancing up at the door every few minutes, half dreading the possibility that any moment, Tendou and his friends are going to walk in, but they don’t.

Ushijima does, a little after the lunch rush dies down.

He looks so out of place against the vibrant backdrop of the 50’s style diner, all serious and stoic, that if he were anybody else you might think he was lost.

But he isn’t lost, because he’s staring right at you.

You don’t notice one of your co-workers sliding up to you until they laugh and playfully nudge your side. “Ah, I see the eye candy is back. Try and pick up your jaw, Y/N,” they tease.

Back?

Instead of finding an empty table to sit himself down at (and give you a minute to mentally prepare) Ushijima is making his way straight over to the counter, unsmiling and huge. How was he even bigger in person?! He could crush you with his thighs alone!

“He’s been here before?” you ask quietly, unable to draw your gaze away from him.

Your co-worker snorts. “Yeah, he came in last night, he even asked for you by name. Seemed kinda disappointed when I told him you weren’t on until today. You holding out on me, Y/N? I thought we were closer than that. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you start dating a hot ass dude!”

They slip away with a wink before you even have a chance to respond and you’re left floundering as Ushijima approaches. Your mouth is dry, your pulse racing. Just like with Tendou, you have no escape, nowhere you can run or hide.

He asked for you by name.

Fuck. You should have quit when you had the chance.

Ushijima isn’t smiling. Where Tendou had been beaming with chaotic energy from the moment he walked in, your second soulmate seems almost stony as he stares at you with serious olive eyes. You honestly can’t tell if he’s frowning or if that’s just the way his face is, but it makes your gut twist regardless.

It might also be the fact that he’s towering over you without even trying to. He has to be at least 6’3” but it’s not just his height that’s imposing - he’s brawny and muscular and, yeah, huge. Briefly you remember the news clip you’d seen of him, the terrifying brute force behind his spike.

He seems to be waiting for you to speak, so you swallow down the lump in your throat and try to remember how to breathe like a normal person. “Hi, can I get you anything?”

Something briefly flickers across his face, but otherwise his expression remains distressingly neutral. “… I would like some tea.”

You nod - it’s like pulling teeth. “Yeah, sure. We uh, we actually have a few different kinds…”

He makes a rough noise of acknowledgement and then… pauses. Instead of the menu, Ushijima studies you. His lips twitch into the faintest hint of a… smile? You can’t quite tell, but it looks out of place regardless. “I will have whichever you recommend.”

You can’t seem to be able to form words, so you settle with nodding, gesturing for him to take a seat while he waits.

His eyes don’t shift from you, nor does he make any attempt to mask the fact that he’s staring right at you. When his tea is ready, you all but beg your co-worker to take it to him.

“Trouble in paradise?” they ask, waggling their eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” you mutter, but they take the tea regardless, and you busy yourself in wiping down tables and pretending that you can’t see the scowl from the volleyball player burning across the diner.

It really isn’t.

Even after tucking any thought of meeting your soulmates away there was always some tiny part of you - a part you were always so desperate to ignore - that wondered how it would feel to meet them, to be loved by them…

But while your heart squeezes with every glance, it’s not warm, dizzying bliss that floods your system and sends blood rushing to your cheeks. You don’t know what the feeling is that curls in your stomach and claws its way up your spine, but it’s nothing good.

Something went wrong with you, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Ushijima stays for an hour, finishes his tea and makes his way back to the counter to pay.

He's wearing a grey hoodie, running gear underneath, and when he hands you the money, passing it directly into hands, his sleeve rides up. There, plain as day, is his soulmate mark.

Your name, written in black ink on Ushijima's wrist, forever marking you as his.

You jerk, flinching away from him, but he doesn’t make a move to cover it.

“You cannot run from us, Y/N. We are your soulmates, we’re bound together.” His voice is little more than a murmur, but there’s an edge to it, sharp and pointed. Not so much a statement as a fact, as undeniable as your name on his skin, on Tendou’s.

He says it like it’s a promise, staring into your eyes with that impenetrable gaze and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

“Why are you so determined to fight it?”

You swallow, taking the cash from his hand and punching it into the till. “I’m sorry, whoever you think I am…” you trail off, finally raising your eyes to meet his penetrating stare. You’re quietly proud of the way your voice doesn’t shake, even as your heart races like a hummingbird in your chest and your palms sweat. “I’m not.”

The only sign that Ushijima hears you at all is the subtle furrowing of his brow and a distinctly displeased hum from the back of his throat.

“I hope you enjoyed your tea.” The cutting barb slips from your lips before you can stop them, but there’s a certain vindictive satisfaction you get in watching his eyes widen, the brief hurt that flickers across his face.

Of course, it only lasts a fraction of a second before his features school into a blank mask and he nods.

“Perhaps I will try another the next time I see you.”

And with a short bow, he walks away.

You leave your apron behind when you finish your shift at the diner, and you don’t come back.

There will be other jobs.

***

It’s not enough.

They start showing around campus.

The first time you catch sight of Tendou, you’re running between classing, cursing the ridiculous schedule that has you attending two back to back lectures on opposite sides of the campus. It’s just a glance - a flicker of red in the corner of your eye. The only reason you stop at all is because you're so focused on not being late that you fail to see the crack in the path until you’re tripping over it. The books in your hand go flying as you sprawl across the pavement.

“Huh, you really weren’t kidding about being clumsy, were ya?”

A pale hand stretches out before you, and just like with Ushijima, Tendou doesn’t bother hiding the soulmate mark as he grins down at you with those wide, creepy eyes.

You ignore it entirely, waving it away as you pick yourself up with a grunt. The skin on one of your palms is grazed, and you’re pretty sure that your knees are too, but all in all it could be worse. It’s more your pride that smarts, that and the fact that of all people to see you trip, it has to be him.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby. I’m only try’na help you!”

You scowl, snatching your textbooks out of his offered hands. “I’m not your baby, Tendou,” you mutter.

You regret the words immediately. His grin slowly widens and he makes a sound, somewhere between a shudder and a moan - it’s almost pornogaphic and wholly inappropriate and it sends blood rushing to your cheeks, but you don’t have time to think about it.

“I’m already late, just-” you break off with a sigh, readjusting the strap of your backpack, staring resolutely at the ground. “I’m not what you want, what… what either of you want. Just leave me alone, okay?!”

Tendou doesn’t say a word as you walk away, but just like always you feel the burning stare following you until you’re out of sight.

Somewhat stupidly, you think that’ll be the end of it. The gloves are off - you might not have said it in as many words, but there’s no point denying it any longer. They are your soulmates and it doesn’t change a thing.

There is something wrong with your bond.

But they don’t see it like that.

They figure out your schedule, take it in turns to wait outside your classes, ambushing you whenever you’re alone.

“I have a game tomorrow,” Ushijima tells you on a rainy Thursday afternoon as he follows you home. “I would like for you to come.”

It doesn’t seem to bother him that you walk a few steps ahead (or try to at least - his legs are ridiculously long) with your head bent down, ignoring the steady rainfall that threatens to saturate you. Tendou usually fights for your attention, grabs at your hands, your waist, any part he can reach just to touch you, but Ushiwaka seems content to merely be near - so long as you stray too far.

“I have exams to study for.”

He hums noncommittally, “Tendou will be there.”

All the more reason not to go.

The silence between you two is heavy.

“It would make me… happy, if you came,” he tries again.

Your eyes squeeze shut for just a moment. You hate it when he does this, when he acts like you’re the one being stubborn. Like you haven’t told him, told them both to stop a thousand times before. Like they haven’t ignored it at every turn, blatantly refused to acknowledge that you don’t want them like they want you.

Shouldn’t ‘no’ have been enough?

You’ve considered reporting it to campus security, or even the police, maybe trying to get a restraining order or something like that, but what would you even say - ‘Please Officer, sir, my soulmates are stalking me’? Yeah, that’ll go down a real fucking treat.

“Why…” you trail off with a sigh, forcing yourself to stop walking.

This time he does reach for you, taking your hand in his. It’s warm and rough from years of volleyball and hard work, and you hate that it’s already so familiar. His expression is as stoic as ever, but there’s a quiet reverence in his eyes as he looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe you’re really there with him. You suppose in another light, it might almost look romantic, the two of you holding hands under his umbrella, lost in your own little world as the rain pours down around you.

He seems to be waiting for you to finish your thought, so you buck up whatever dregs of courage you still have and try again, “Why can’t you just… move on? I don’t want this- this thing, whatever it is between us.” You sigh, tugging your hand back, “I just want to be alone, why can’t you respect that?!”

He doesn’t answer for a long moment, staring at you, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the back of your palm.

But then he shrugs, easily, as if you’re merely discussing the weather and not their continued overbearing and unwanted presence in your life. “We love you. More than anything, and despite your… reservations, we belong together, what other reason does there need to be?” He pauses, his gaze softening just a fraction, “You’ll come around eventually,” he adds.

A tiny part of you crumples at that. What’s the use in arguing with a brick wall?

***

It’s a minor relief when you walk out of your last lecture for the day the following afternoon. It might be because it’s a Friday and you, for once, have absolutely no plans for the weekend, but realistically it’s more to do with the fact that you know no one is waiting for you outside. Ushijima has his volleyball game, and Tendou will be there with him, cheering from the sidelines.

You should be happier, really, but there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been there since Ushijima left you at your door last night.

They’re not going to stop.

Instead of listening to the professor talk, you’ve spent the last three hours searching university transfers. You love Tokyo University, you love Tokyo - the big, bustling city you’d gladly lose yourself in again and again, but it can’t be your home, not when they’re here too.

There’s a University in Kyoto, it has a similar program to the one you’re already in. It’s a surprisingly easy process to change - your grades are decent enough, all you have to is apply. One simple click of a button. It’ll take a few weeks for it all to go through, which’ll give you enough time to figure out how you’re gonna upend your entire life without them realising - assuming of course that Kyoto university accepts the request.

If you soulmates won’t let you go, you’ll run, and you’ll keep running. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe one day you’ll look back at them and feel that same love for them that you’d seen in your parents instead of that black, cloying unease that twists at your guts, but so long as they don’t give the choice, what options do you have?

You’re not stupid, this… thing that they’re doing, the stalking, monopolising your time, trying to drive your friends away, it’s not the end game. What happens when they get tired of you ignoring them?

“Hey, Y/N wait up!”

For a moment your heart seizes, but it calms almost immediately when you realise the voice isn’t the one you’re afraid of.

You turn to find one of the guys from your last lecture walking over. He’s kinda cute, in a lost puppy kind of way, and he’s nice, for the three conversations you’ve actually had with him. Honestly you’re a little surprised he actually knows your name (considering you’ve definitely forgotten his) but you smile back regardless. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You doing anything tonight?”

Netflix and crashing early, but you’re hardly about to tell him that, “Not much, why?”

He smiles, and for a moment you’re taken aback by just how utterly endearing it is. He really is cute. “Me and a few friends are having a party tonight, you’re uh, you’re welcome to come. Y’know, if you’re not doing anything,” he says with a laugh, throwing in a wink for good measure.

But his smile fades a little as he catches a glimpse of something behind you. You frown at the odd reaction, turning instinctively to see what drew his attention when a weight drapes across your shoulders and you find yourself being pulled into a sideways embrace.

“There you are, baby! I was starting to think you’d gotten lost,” a familiar voice drawls. “Who’s your friend?”

You can’t see Tendou’s expression as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but from the way your classmate blanches you can imagine that it’s not pleasant. Still you have to give him credit, he only falters for a second before he’s rubbing the back of his neck and offering a sheepish smile, “Oh, hey, uh… yeah, I’m-”

“Punching a little above your weight, dont’cha think?” Tendou cuts him off with a snort, nuzzling in just a little closer. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear, “I thought Ushiwaka told you about the game tonight.”

You shiver, although whether it’s from his softly edged words or the kiss he presses against your cheek, you’re not entirely sure. “He did, I-I told him that I had to study…”

Tendou laughs, squeezing you tighter, “Psh, is that all? Baby, we can help you study later. C’mon, or we’re gonna miss the start of the game.”

And like that he’s tugging you away. With Tendou’s arm wrapped snugly around you, you don’t even have a chance to turn around and apologise to the guy. He’s done it purposefully, a reminder you suppose of who you belong to - though for your classmate’s benefit or yours you honestly don’t know.

Ushijima’s already on the court by the time Tendou and you arrive at your seats (front row of course) but he glances over as you both settle down and his lips quirk into the faintest hint of a smile.

It would make me… happy, if you came, he’d said.

You don’t miss the razor sharp, anticipatory gleam in his eyes, though.

He destroys the competition. You still remember that brief clip you’d seen years ago of his brutal spike - it seems like time has only served to make it more lethal. The rest of his team is undeniably good, you doubt Ushijima would join a club made up of anything less than the best, but still, he’s in his element and without a single doubt the strongest on the court.

For every point he scores, Tendou cheers wildly. Halfway through the second set you can see that every player on the other side hates Ushijima - if the scowls and muttered snarls they’re shooting his way are anything to go by. You can’t exactly say you blame them for it either. They’re demoralised and angry, frustrated by the huge Ace and his indomitable force and even though he’s not a part of the team, Tendou revels in it. There’s a song he starts to sing, some inane jig that flows too naturally to have been made up on the spot. You can almost imagine him on the court beside Ushiwaka, singing it after stealing point after point from the other team. The two of them must have made a formidable team on the court.

They still do, you suppose.

You’ve never been one for volleyball, or sports in general, but even you can’t deny the sense of feral anticipation in the air as Ushijima steps up to serve on match point. Tendou has his hand wrapped tightly around yours, leaning forward in his seat to watch the spectacle. You can’t say you blame him.

You might hate him, but you can’t deny that his serves are a sight to behold. Your heart thumps as he throws the balls up, runs and launches himself into the air. His legs are arched, his form perfect and you still can’t quite believe how high he manages to get considering his size -

And then he hits the ball, palm slamming into the leather with a resounding smack - it flies over the net, damn near knocks the poor Libero off his feet as he tries to save it, but even that isn’t enough to stop it. The ball ricochets off his receive, spinning into the crowd and just like that - it’s all over.

Ushijima roars in victory, and Tendou turns to you, red eyes wild and delighted. You don’t have a moment to breathe, much less prepare yourself before his lips are crashing against your own.

The deafening cheers of the stadium fade out.

You can feel his racing pulse as he clutches you close, the unrepentant enthusiasm that pours through him as his tongue dances across your bottom lip, begging for entry. You’re stuck still, frozen in place as your soulmate steals his first kiss.

Somehow when you pictured this moment as a little girl, you didn’t imagine that it would be fear that floods your veins, that the soft, breathless laugh that Tendou gives as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours would scare you instead of making you feel safe and loved.

They walk you home together. It’s unnerving enough with just one of them, but with both your soulmates flanking you you’re more on edge than usual.

Or maybe it’s the slightly weird energy you can sense between the two of them. Tendou hasn’t stopped grinning since he kissed you and Ushijima still seems a little wired from his win. He hasn’t said much since the three of you left the stadium, but he’s holding you closer than normal, an arm slung low across your back, his fingers brushing possessively along your hip.

God, Kyoto can’t happen fast enough.

There’s a lump in your throat as you reach your apartment. They’d offered to take you out for dinner after the game finished - to celebrate Ushiwaka’s crushing victory over ‘those poor assholes’ as Tendou had put it - but despite the pit of hunger in your stomach, you’d politely refused. The less time spent with them the better.

Surprisingly, both Tendou and Ushijima had taken it in stride without so much as a peep.

But now you’re at the front door, keys in hand and Ushijima still has his arm draped around you. It’s not like they haven’t been in this position before, but despite all their gentle cajoling (well, gentle is relative - Tendou whines petulantly and Ushijhima just seems to hover silently like an overgrown bat) they’ve never actually been inside your apartment.

It’s your one sanctuary, and you very much want to keep it that way.

“Y’know, ‘Toshi and I’ve been thinking,” Tendou begins, snatching the keys out of your hand before you can stop him, chuckling and swatting at you when you try and grab them back. “Me ‘n the big guy, we really do love you, baby - head over heels, heart racing, butterflies in your stomach kinda love. It’s kinda sappy, actually. You have no idea how happy you’ve made us.”

The key slides into the lock and he twists it, pushing your door wide open. His eyes flash to yours and he grins, bowing as he gestures towards the open apartment. Your open apartment.

An invitation.

You blanch. “Um, I-I don’t think-”

Stupid of you to think you ever had a choice in the matter - Ushijima’s arm is an iron wall against your back, pushing you forward as he crosses the threshold.

Tendou follows behind the two of you, and the click of the door shutting behind you echoes far too loudly in your small apartment. He tosses the keys into the little dish on the kitchen counter - where they always go when you’re at home - and winks at you.

“I mean we are your soulmates so I ‘spose it’s kind of a given.” He shrugs, leaning back against the countertop, folding his arms over his chest. “But we can’t help but notice that you seem a little… uneasy around us. And I get it, baby, really I do. You’re just a little shy - it’s cool.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as Ushijima’s fingers curl around your jaw and he tilts your face to the side to meet his intense stare, “You’re being unnecessarily stubborn,” he elaborates.

A flicker of amusement dances in Tendou’s eyes at his bluntness. “We tried it your way - taking it slow and steady, trying to ease you in but, well… I think we can all agree your way isn’t working all that great.”

Your eyes snap back to him, “What?”

His grin widens, “So we figured it’s time we try it our way. We’ve been so good, baby! D’ya have any idea how hard it’s been to hold ourselves back?”

Ushijima’s grip is unrelenting, but that doesn’t stop you from frantically trying to fight your way out of it as Tendou pushes off the counter and stalks over to the two of you.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, “Been waiting so long for this. Wanted to fuck you on the tables back in the diner in that cute lil’ uniform of yours.” He smirks down at you, his pupils blown wide and dripping with lust.

No. No, no, no! You shake your head frantically as he closes in, “Stop, wait! Let me go, LET ME GO! I-I don’t want-”

Your panicked words are cut off as Ushijima suddenly spins you around to face him. His hand cups your cheek, enveloping it entirely, and his broad thumb strokes the soft skin gently. “We’re not going to hurt you, little one. You just need to see - to feel what we feel for you.”

Whatever retort you have is swallowed up as he closes the gap between you and kisses you. He’s demanding - unrelenting - forcing your mouth open so that his tongue can taste yours. Distantly you register Tendou slotting in behind you, the unmistakable bulge that presses against your ass as he attaches himself to your neck. “Shh, baby,” he murmurs between kisses, fingers sliding to the hem of your top. “Let your soulmates take care of you, hm?”

It’s not like you’ve ever had a choice in the matter.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere tendou x reader #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere tendou satori #yandere ushijima wakatoshi x reader #yandere tendou satori x reader #my fic #my writing #yandere imagines #yandere fic #tendou x reader #ushijima x reader #yandere hq #soulmate au #yandere soulmates #tw stalking #tw implied noncon #its 4 am im going to sleep

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

Text

Flowers and Vinyls

Summary: You and Porco are neighbours. You also despise each other. Pairing: Porco Galliard x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, softdom!Porco, softsub!Reader, thigh riding, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (male receiving), alcohol abuse, enemies to lovers Word Count: 2.2 k

A/N: Porco deserves some love, too! I also really wanna give Connie some love, too.

You hated him, you loathed him.

To you, Porco was the most insufferable person to ever walk on this earth, strutting his pushed back hair, with his stupid undercut and his silly little upturned nose. You wanted to gouge his eyes out, but that would only land you some time in jail. He was your next-door neighbour both in terms of accommodation, and in terms of work. You owned a small flower shop at the ground floor of your townhouse, he owned a record store placed strategically wall-to-wall with yours — naturally he lived above it. Marcel, Porco's brother, was seemingly a nicer person, but he wasn't always there when you needed him to shut his little brother's mouth — or music. Not only were you two bickering like petty children, you were also complete opposites — he was edgy and brash, you were dainty and solemn. He always wore dark colours, you were dressed in pastels. And to make matters worse, he was best friends with your best friend!

Pieck was completely oblivious to the fact that you two hated each other, both bitching to her, unaware of the other's complaints. She always told you, separately, that perhaps you just need to get laid with one another and get over it. Impossible, for you despised each other. And when Pieck invited you to a small party at her place, you were not expecting to see Porco there. At first, you wanted to turn around and leave, but your friend talked you into staying, promising that Porco was actually a good guy, and that you didn't know him well enough. Oh, how wrong she was. He was evil incarnate, he vandalised your shop after you called the cops on him. Nonetheless, you stayed at her party, opting to spend some time with Reiner and Colt, avoiding Porco at all costs, because if looks could kill, his would smite you.

What you didn't know was that a conflict was taking place inside his tipsy brain — should he kill you or fuck you? Despite your differences, Porco couldn't deny that you were a very alluring woman, hips swaying every time you walked and an ass that could raise the dead. And he saw Colt glancing at that ass, prompting him to drink some more. On the other side of the room, you told Pieck all about how your date stood you up and you were quite sad, opting to drown the empty feeling in your chest with cheap vodka and tequila, and that combination did a number on you. You weren't shitfaced by any means, just drunk enough to feel the music better, taste the liquor better, smell Porco's perfume better whenever he walked past you. God, he intoxicated you more than the alcohol could, and you were beginning to wonder if Pieck was right — maybe you didn't hate him, maybe you needed to fuck him, relieve the sexual tension. But how? What if he did hate you and you'd only make a fool of yourself? The questions were grinding your gears and no amount of tequila could help you get them out of your system. You settled on ignoring them.

"We're gonna split a cab." Porco explained, a bored, inexpensive look on his face.

"Hey, 'm not poor, aight? I can afford a f-fuckin' taxi." You poked his chest with your index finger while losing your balance and falling into his arms. He quickly released you once you regained control of your legs, his eyes drifting elsewhere, crimson creeping to his cheeks.

"We literally live next to each other, but if you wanna go all by yourself, fine!"

"I haaaaate you, Pokko, d'you know? I especially hate that cute nose! Boop!"

He was so done with your attitude, your gestures, your voice, his brows furrowed and lips pursed. But Pieck really wanted to make sure you got home safe, and Porco didn't want to disappoint his friend by letting you loose in a stranger's car, especially since you were drunk and vulnerable. He was an asshole, but he wasn't that bad. Not that you could realise that, anyway.

"Just get in the car, Y/N." He rolled his eyes and opened the door once the yellow taxi pulled over. You stopped between him and the car, nose and cheeks pink from the alcohol, and leaned closer to his face.

"D'you also know I really, really wanna ride you?" You whispered in his ear before stumbling inside the cab, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Ah! Evening, mister!"

"Jesus Christ..."

The entire way home you drove Porco insane with little touches, whispers, obscene proposals. He could feel his cock twitching in his pants but he didn't want to take advantage of you. Yet the more you looked at him with hunger in your eyes, the more he couldn't think rationally — he, too, was drunk, after all. When you got out of the car you almost fell face first, but luckily, he caught you, your hand accidentally brushing his thigh in the process. God, he hated you.

"Come inside!" You looped an arm around his neck for better balance. "I gotta give you your money b-back."

"It's fine."

"No, no, I insist."

"You're so annoying, you know that?" Porco walked with you, perfectly aware of how much he'd regret this night.

"Close the door behind youuuu!" You kicked your shoes off and grabbed the collar of his leather jacket, practically dragging him through the hallway, into the living room. "Sit!"

He could say no. He could just walk out. But he didn't want to. Not anymore.

You rummaged through a drawer looking for some cash, taking your sweet time to do it. The way you were bent over, the tight skirt revealing just an inch of your red panties, sent Porco down a rabbit hole of dirty thoughts. Every gesture, every word uttered so nonchalantly by you made you both forget the turf war you both started, the atmosphere slowly becoming more intimate and sensual. You swayed your hips from side to side, opening another drawer and digging through the clutter.

"Hey, Pokko? Do you think 'm pretty?"

The question caught him off guard as you turned around, no money in your hands. He raised his gaze from your skirt to your eyes, frantically nodding his head.

"Yeah."

"Then why did I get stood up?" You pouted, walking to the couch. Porco swallowed hard when you took a seat on his thigh, his fingers digging into the sofa. "If 'm pretty, why don't men want me?" Your hands rested on his shoulders as your hips slowly rocked back and forth.

"I- I don't know." He pursed his lips, unaware of what to do. Usually, he wouldn't have any issues with situations like this. But it was different this time because he really wanted to shut your srupid mouth up — or maybe Pieck was right and all he needed to do was fuck you.

"Do you want me?" You asked, head tilted, movement stopping.

"God, yes." Porco grabbed your nape and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, his other hand desperately tugging at your tank top strap. You could feel your panties dampening under his rough touch and hot kiss, your hands removing his jacket as quickly as possible. "I'm gonna fuck you on that table first." He picked you up and slammed your ass on the dining table, earning a moan out of you. "Then we'll take it to the bedroom." Porco removed his shirt while you pulled your underwear down.

"Fuck me wherever you want, just fuck me!" You begged, legs spread and lust in your eyes.

"Shit, I knew you were a little slut under all that soft girl crap." He unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the ground while he pulled his cock out. You took a good look at it, teeth digging into your lower lip.

"Aren't you gonna finger me first?"

"You didn't do anything to deserve it. But I'm in a good mood." Porco sneered before he spat on your wet cunt. The disgusting gesture made you purr like a kitten, proving him more that you were indeed a filthy whore. He dragged the tip of his cock up and down your slit, slowly pushing it between your folds as you threw your head back in pleasure. "Fuuuck, you're so tight, so wet."

"Oh my God, go deeper! Please!" You pleaded, voice low and seductive.

"Look how good you're taking it." Porco praised you, fingers digging into your skin before he started rocking his hips. It truly felt that your pussy was made just for him, the silken walls clenching around his hard cock making him grunt with every thrust. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you both realised just how much you needed this, the hate you had for each other melting away, replaced by lust and desire.

"So b-big 'nd hard-" You mumbled incoherent words while one hand found your neck, calloused fingertips squeezing the skin.

"You've no idea how much I wanted these hands around your neck." Porco groaned, his thrusts faster and harder. "Who knew I wanted to fuck you, not kill you?" His thumb parted your lips and you hollowed your cheeks around it, sucking on it like a lollipop. "Good girl. Bedroom, now." He pulled out and you almost cried at the empty feeling between your thighs. You took his hand in yours and guided him to the room — just as pastel and cute as your personality. Porco spun you around, giving your ass a firm slap before bending you down. He pressed hot kisses on your hip and lower back and you threw your head back to look at him.

"Stop t-teasing me!"

"Jeez, aren't you greedy? I thought you hated me." He laughed into your skin, the vibrations tickling your flesh. Porco couldn't abstain any longer, one hand grasping your hip, the other pushing his cock back into you. Inch by inch, it disappeared and he let out a satisfied groan.

"I still h-hate you!" Teeth sunk into your lip to stifle a moan.

"Oh, really?" He thrusted so deep that you lost control over your arms, head falling onto the mattress. Another deep thrust and you shot back up with a growl. "Talk shit and I might not let you finish." His threat alerted you and you bucked your hips, walls clenching around his cock.

"It would be a shame if you f-finished first." Your voice was cocky, targeting that huge ego of his. It was effective — Porco's hand travelled between your legs, fingers rubbing your swollen clit and you moaned in extasy, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

"N-not fair!" You squirmed and whimpered, tears of pleasure pooling at your eyes.

"We're not playing fair." He wrapped his other hand around your neck to pull you closer, back hitting his chest. The room smelled of sex and jasmine incense and it drove you mad with lust. "Oh, what's the matter? Are you coming already?" He mocked while fucking your desperate cunt.

"Yes! God, yes!" You cried out, the climax blurring your vision.

Despite your pleas that you couldn't take it anymore, Porco kept thrusting deeper into your numbing pussy, his fingers bruising your skin, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. He was an animal, everything about him was instinctual and filthy and you hatedloved it. Your silken walls clenched around his cock again, and he was impressed that you still had some fight left in you.

"That's right, milk me dry, you dirty whore." His disgusting words reignited the dying fire inside your core and you bucked your hips against his, the friction and pressure making you come undone a second time.

"Fuck!" Was all you could say before collapsing onto the mattress, body limp and exhausted.

"Damn it, Y/N. I said milk me dry." Porco grabbed a fistful of hair and turned you over, yanking your head back to shove his cock down your throat. How on earth did he have so much stamina? You hollowed your cheeks and triedto suck, but it was him actually fucking your pretty mouth. "Are you gonna keep being a little bitch?"

"Nu-uh!" You shook your head, the word muffled by his girth. Your cheeks were burning from the lack of air, your eyes watery and red.

"Good." He groaned, thick, hot strings of his seed shooting down your throat. "Swallow." Porco held your head back as he slowly pulled out, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue.

You laid on the bed and pulled him next to you, unaware of what to do or say. Your body relaxed when he looped an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest.

"Do you still hate me?" He asked.

"It depends. Are you gonna blast music at three in the morning?"

"Yep."

"Well, there's your answer." You laughed and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Listen, I'm not sorry you got stood up tonight. I mean, I am, but I'm not-"

"Porco, stop talking. It was never going to work out with him, anyway."

"Fair enough." He shrugged, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. "What if I take you out?"

"Like a date, or a murder?"

"It depends. Are you gonna call the cops on me again?"

"I'll try not to?"

"A date, then."

#porco galliard #porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan #porco galliard smut #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #shingeki no kyoujin #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #shingeki no kyoujin smut #porco galliard one shot

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triptuckers · 4 years ago

Text

Two Homes (part 4/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: no Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: after enjoying a walk through the gardens with nikolai, you watch as he gets shot right in front of you Warnings: mentions of blood, bullet wounds, language, angst Word count: 2.2K A/N: after the cliffhanger in the last part here’s what happens next ;) also how long do people have to recover after a Grisha has healed them? I don’t have a single clue. enjoy reading! PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting@im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) add yourself to my tag lists here

It’s like everything happens in slow motion. The way Nikolai falls to the floor. The way the white fabric of his shirt slowly turns to red. And then your senses kick in, and you rush to his side.

‘Are you alright?’ you say as you drop to your knees beside him.

‘I’m perfectly fine.’ he groans, despite his wounds.

‘Don’t fucking say that. You got shot, you’re not fine.’ you harshly say, hastily moving so you can sit more comfortably beside him.

Despite his injuries, Nikolai still manages to raise his eyebrows at you.

‘Sorry.’ you say. ‘I didn't mean to sound harsh. I tend to say the first things that come to mind when someone’s hurt.’

You move to rip off a piece of the hem of your dress.

‘Already taking the dress off, huh? At least have a dance with me first.’ he says.

How could he possibly still flirt after being shot twice? You ignore him as you use the piece of your dress to bind his shoulder.

‘This might hurt.’ you murmur as you pull it tightly around his shoulder. You hear Nikolai curse, but don’t respond. Instead, you move to see to his stomach.

‘Where did you learn how to do that?’ he asks.

‘I live in Ketterdam.’ you simply say.

You look at him. Laying on his back, blonde hair a mess and the skin of his face slightly more pale. Yet he still managed to look good. You put the thought out of your head and focus on his wounds again.

‘I’m going to have to put pressure on your stomach, but it’s going to hurt.’ you say.

Nikolai motions to you with his hand. ‘Do whatever you have to do to stop me from bleeding out, sweetheart.’ he says.

You nod and lay your hands on his stomach, pressing down hard. Nikolai groans and his hand instinctively flies to lay on top of yours.

‘I must say, this is the most interesting first date I’ve ever been on.’ he says.

You briefly look at him before turning your attention back to his stomach. ‘Not a date.’ you say.

‘Really?’ he says. ‘Are you going to tell me you just wandered off to the garden with absolutely no intention of meeting a king?’

‘Sounds about right.’ you say.

‘I find that hard to believe.’ says Nikolai.

‘Don’t get me wrong, but I really meant it when I said I have no intention of marrying you or spending another minute at the palace.’ you say.

‘Such a shame.’ says Nikolai, groaning again when you put more pressure on his stomach. ‘You’re nice company.’

‘You’re only saying that because you lost blood and I’m trying to prevent you from losing any more.’ you say.

You turn to look at Nikolai, who still manages to smile at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but the sound of yet another gunshot drowns out his words.

‘Saints.’ you curse, when you feel the bullet hitting you in the arm. Despite getting shot, you don’t remove your hands from Nikolai’s stomach. ‘This trip is getting more and more interesting by the minute, I have to give you that.’ you say. ‘I’m used to being shot at in Ketterdam, but I thought the palace grounds would be different.’

You feel blood slowly leaking down your bare arm, like a warm stream of liquid.

‘I have to get help, but I can’t leave you.’ you say. ‘Do you have any idea on how to get someone out here without one of us leaving?’

As if they heard you, several people run toward you. You notice all of them wearing kefta’s, except for two of them, who wear olive coloured clothing. Though you don’t recognise their faces, you had heard plenty of stories from Nina about Nikolai’s triumvirate and his personal guards.

A woman in a red kefta rushes toward you. ‘What happened?’ she says, looking from you to Nikolai.

‘We just got back from a walk in the gardens. He was about to enter the ball room again, when he got shot.’ you explain.

‘I told you not to leave the ball room.’ she says, glaring at Nikolai.

‘Can you blame me, Genya?’ says Nikolai. ‘There was a particular woman who would refuse to stop dancing, she made it very hard to slip away.’

‘This is what happens when you don’t listen to us.’ groans Genya as she looks at his wounds. ‘Did you bind your own shoulder?’

Nikolai shakes his head. ‘Y/N did.’

Genya looks at you, the alarmed look on her face slowly fades and her features soften. ‘Thank you.’ she says. ‘We’ll take it from here. Did you see where the shooter went?’

‘The shots came from there.’ you say, motioning with your head to a line of trees behind you. Immediately, a woman in a blue kefta and the two people in olive clothing head to the spot you pointed to.

Genya looks to the only Grisha who is still there. ‘David, help me get Nikolai up. We have to get him to a healer.’ she tells him.

David nods and moves closer. You’re hesitant to remove your hands from his wound.

‘It’s alright, Y/N.’ says Nikolai when he notices your hesitation. ‘They know what they’re doing, and we have healers standing by.’

You nod at him and remove your hands from his stomach. Immediately, more blood starts to leak out of his wound. But David is quick to put his hands on it as Genya helps Nikolai to his feet.

Just as they start walking, Genya looks over her shoulder at you. She smiles at you. ‘You need to come as well, you got shot too.’ she says.

In all the chaos, you had forgotten you got shot as well. But now that you realise it, it’s like the pain you didn’t feel at first comes flooding back.

‘Right.’ you say as you follow them, wrapping a hand around your own wound.

You’re grateful to see Genya and David are leading you through halls far away from the ball room. Your hands are covered in blood, as well as one of your arms. And your dress is torn at the bottom, and also stained with blood. The last thing you wanted was for people to see you like that.

You soundlessly follow the three people ahead of you. You don’t even register the riches surrounding you, or wonder about the closed doors you pass. Your arm is painfully throbbing and despite your hand on your arm, you can still feel blood leaking down your arm.

Both you and Nikolai leave a trail of red drops behind as you walk. You’re feeling a bit guilty about it, but then you remember there’s plenty enough Grisha around to make the blood trail disappear in seconds.

Ahead of you, Genya and David lead Nikolai into a room. You follow them and see you’re in a room with several beds. One of them is occupied, but because of the curtains around it, you can’t see who’s in it.

Genya and David help Nikolai lay down in one of the beds, and a healer rushes to his side. You watch as they put curtains around his bed as well, giving him some privacy. You know you shouldn’t listen to them, but a small part of you can’t help but to feel worried. After all, he got shot right in front of you.

‘Ma’am?’

The sudden voice next to you startles you. You turn to see a healer looking at you.

‘Is it okay if I heal your arm?’ he says.

Once more, you had completely forgotten you got shot as well. You nod and allow him to lead you to one of the beds as well. You sit down and watch as the healer starts to work on your arm.

You’ve never seen a Grisha healer working up close. You’d seen Nina use her power, but she had explained to you that she was a heartrender, not a healer. You watch in amazement as the flesh on your arm seems to melt back together, not even leaving a small trace. No one would be able to tell you got shot.

After he’s done, you thank the healer and get up, moving toward the door.

‘Leaving so soon?’

You turn around upon hearing the familiar voice. The curtains around his bed had been removed, and Nikolai is already sitting up, looking at you.

‘I’m going back to Ketterdam.’ you say.

‘Well, then, you’d want to catch the first boat. Maybe avoid your father, I can’t imagine him being happy with your choice. Best to take the fastest horse we have.’ he says.

If Genya and David seemed confused or surprised by his words, they didn’t show it. You’re perplexed, but nod at Nikolai.

‘Thank you for the flower.’ you say. ‘And the walk. It was nice.’

With a last smile, you leave the room. You walk through the halls, trying to find a way out. It seems like whoever had built the palace, had designed it to be a maze.

You occasionally stop to listen if you can hear the music from the ball room. But the halls are quiet, aside from your footsteps. And the last thing you wanted to do was trace your footsteps back and ask Nikolai for a way out.

Ahead of you, someone walks around the corner. You recognise the blue kefta. She was with the other Grisha who rushed to Nikolai’s aid outside. You quickly walk up to her.

‘Hi.’ you say. ‘Do you know the way out of here? This place is a maze.’

She looks at your torn and blood stained dress. If she was curious, she hid it very well. You couldn’t read the expression on her face. Just as you think she might not even talk to you, she points to the hallway she just came from.

‘Down that hall, take a left at the end of it and then the second hall on your right.’ she says.

‘Thank you.’ you say, and you walk past her. You feel her eyes burning in your back, but don’t look behind you.

You follow her instructions, and feel relieved when you see the tall doors and the staircase that leads outside. Just as you start to walk down the stairs, you hear someone shout your name behind you.

‘Saints.’ you mumble to yourself and you briefly close your eyes in frustration. You knew that voice all too well. You turn around to face your father.

His face is reddened with anger as he looks at you, and he takes a few steps toward you.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he says, his words cutting harshly through the air. He then notices your ruined dress. ‘And what happened to your dress? That was expensive. Why weren’t you at the ball?’

‘I told you I didn’t want to go. Did you really expect me to stay?’ you say. You really didn’t feel like fighting with him right now. Despite not attending the ball, you were tired. You wanted to go home.

‘This was the chance of a lifetime! Don’t you see how ungrateful you are? Slipping away right before I was going to introduce you to the king? You could have married a king, and that marriage could have made me rich. Now I’m just going to have to marry you off to another merchant.’ he says, his voice growing louder with each sentence.

You open your mouth to protest, to defend your choices, but stop abruptly when you see someone emerging from the doors behind your father.

Nikolai had fixed his hair and changed his bloodied shirt for a clean one. If you hadn’t been right there when he got shot, you wouldn’t be able to tell he got hurt at all. He smiles at you before stepping closer to your father, who didn’t realise someone is standing behind him.

‘I’m afraid you can’t marry her off to a merchant, sir.’ says Nikolai politely. ‘I’ve picked Y/N as my bride.’

Your father turns around and the both of you stare at Nikolai with wide eyes. But Nikolai merely smiles at you and offers you his arm. ‘Shall we go inside?’ he says.

You quickly go over your chances in your head. If you would go back to Ketterdam, which you had wanted since you boarded the ship in the harbour, you would probably marry a merchant who would be at least thirty years older.

If you went with Nikolai, at least you had a chance to think it all over, and make your own decision. And your father wouldn’t be able to control your life, no matter how hard he’d try to.

Nikolai still holds out his arm to you, smiling at you. You look at his hazel eyes and nod slightly. You walk up the steps and lay your hand on his arm. Without even sparing your father a glance, you allow Nikolai to lead you right back into the palace you’d sworn to walk away from.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#my mom is yelling at me that we need to leave cause im getting myself second covidvaccin dose #im like iN A MINUTE cause I need to upload this and fix the links lakjdflkjs #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfics #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fics #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fics #two homes series

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crystalas · 4 years ago

Text

Blazing Blue part 1

Red Son runs away from home after overhearing his father call him a worthless excuse of a demon, agreeing to a truce with MK he ends up with the Monkie crew unaware that someone wants to steal a power that was sealed away long ago.

Chapter one: Truce buddies

Demon Bull King stood amongst the ruins of his old hidden stronghold, his robot clones busy digging out the remains and salvaging anything of use. He took a weary sigh and he surveyed all of what he had built since his revival and growled at how quickly it was destroyed…annoyingly at his own hand! Only then to be enslaved by Spider Queen while trying to raise enough funds to rebuild it. Needless to say, it had a been a few rough months for the Demon Bull Family.

“Man, I had heard your family had fallen on hard times but this is embarrassing!” a voice chuckled and Demon Bull King felt himself bristle with anger, he spun around to smash whoever thought it wise to mock a ten-foot-tall bull demon only to find the black monkey warrior Macaque lounging leisurely on top of a pile of rubble.

“Begone, you annoying simian shadow, I have no time for you” Demon Bull King snarled.

“Aw and I came all the way down here to chat, how rude. I mean I’ll excuse you not getting out the fine China for me on account of well…” he gestures to the crumbling ruin as a chunk of wall collapsed behind him. “Your recent string of humiliating defeats and the fact you had to team up with Monkey King…just wow…how low can you go?”

Macaque quickly sprung to his feet and nimbly dodged a lump of molten metal that flew right past him and buried itself into the ceiling behind him.

“If you have come here just to mock me then I will make you pay for every word you speak tenfold!” he roared.

“You’re right I’m sorry, I actually wanted to see if you were interested in an alliance of sorts?” Macaque exclaimed as he hopped lightly down the rubble pile without so much as disturbing a brick and looked up at Demon Bull King with a smile.

“You come to my home…Mock me and my family and rub salt in my wounds and you ASK FOR AN ALLIENCE!!??”

“What if I told you, it’s a plan to destroy the Monkey King? And his little fan club?” Macaque offered, Demon Bull King glared at him said not a word and then with speed not many would associate with a creature of his size and bulk snatched Macaque with his hand and brought him up to his face to look him in the eye.

“Know this Six Ears Macaque just because I have been buried under a mountain for the last few centuries does not mean I am ignorant of current events! You tried to best Monkey King with his protégé’s own power and you still lost!” Demon Bull King snarled as Macaque squirmed in his tight grip before erupting into shadowy mist and escaping. Demon Bull King glanced around trying to find the real one only for what he hoped was the real one to appear perched nearby on what remained of his furnace.

“See that’s why I’m here, Monkey King knows I like to… “borrow” power from other people, and he probably think I’ll go for powers of say his fanboy or someone just as good but what if I blindsided him with powers of say… The Demon Bull King? Or Lady Iron Fan? Or maybe say the power of demon fire?”

“No. Begone.”

“Com’on I’m not even asking you to do anything just let me borrow some power and I’ll do the butt kicking!”

“Begone.” Demon Bull King replied even harsher than last time.

“Fine, I get it.” Macaque grumbled “Best shot you have of getting your revenge and you’re going to turn it down!”

“I am not as foolish as to become a mere power source to another being, that is not an alliance that is servitude at best!” Demon Bull King declared standing to his full height with his fist clench ready for battle. “And do not think me as foolish to let you even try!”

“Fine. Fine I’ll just try Red Son, he’s more open minded about these things. Plus, I’ve heard the rumours of his… hidden inheritance” Macaque smirked as he spun on his heels and walked away casually only for a fist to slammed into the wall blocking his path.

“You will stay away from my family!” Demon Bull King hissed.

“So, it is true? I mean I’ve heard stories about it but given what I’ve seen of him in action I’d begun to doubt any of them!”

Demon Bull King thought quickly but to be fair his wife was more the brains of the operation, if Macaque was beginning to doubt the stories better to confirmed it than deny them.

“Red Son is a pathetic whelp, who is an embarrassment to us and unworthy of being called my son, he only brings shame and defeat to whatever he does. Whatever rumours you had heard are merely that; rumours. If he did have any power worthy of the Demon Bull King family name, don’t you think I would have used it by now?” Demon Bull King declared coldly, “You have clearly wasted your time and mine. You have your answer. Now go!”

“I guess they must be wrong if even you say Red Son is a worthless excuse of a demon. My mistake, you know how stories get hyped up over the years…I’ll be on my way” Macaque said sadly as he hopped down and walked away arms crossed behind his back. As he did, he glanced over at one of the corridors that snaked through Demon Bull King’s hide out to see a quiet and pale faced Red Son…

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Red Son had managed to find his room amongst the rubble and save some clothes, books and tools. Sadly, an iron girder had broken through the roof of his room and destroyed his computer set up and mechanics bench, in a way he was ok with that. Rebuilding his computer would give him something to do while the reconstruction was underway. Now he was heading to the main chamber as he was getting peckish and fancied going up top to grab some food, might as well see if Father didn’t want anything before, he headed out.

As he walked down the corridor, he heard his father shouting and the muffled voices of him talking to another. Who could that be? Red Son wondered as he started to walk faster, Mother shouldn’t be back just yet. She had left the city to find spell ingredients for her magics, [it is kind of hard to locate stuff like dragon scales and tree spirit sap in a dense city metropolis.]

As he came to the opening to the main chambre he heard something that made his heart stop.

“Red Son is a pathetic whelp, who is an embarrassment us and unworthy of being called my son…” his father said, as he tried to listen everything else but it just to swim in and out of his focus as his head spun. “…Only brings shame and defeat…Worthless excuse of a demon…waste of…my time…”

Why? Why would his father say that? Red Son thought they had made progress in their relationship, okay fine he had only called him son that one time but…but that was still a better than nothing? He saved him when the Spider Queen caught him in her webs, they fought her together.

Was he really back to square one? No. it was apparently worse than that he wasn’t back at square one he was off the game board entirely as far as his father was concerned. Heavens knows how his mother must see him give she has called him useless to his face! He had tried no end of times to prove himself only to come home with nothing to show for it.

He didn’t even register Macaque walk by as he spun on his heels and went back to what remains of his room; stuffing what he had salvaged into a backpack and swallowing back a painful lump in his throat as he quickly wrote a note leaving it on the metal girder for whoever to find. He took a deep breath trying to steady his emotions before disappearing in a swirl of flames.

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

Monkey Kid or MK was feeling down of late; his Master the Monkey King had given him the task of catching a red leaf with a gold dot on it. That didn’t sound too hard right? Not when Monkey King is making it rain hundreds of other leaves all of different colours and hues as well and expects him to find it in minutes!

MK sighed, he knew what the lesson was about he was supposed to focus on that one leaf and avoid all other distractions. If he pulled it off and mastered it, he knew he’s probably be able to find a grain of rice on a beach or something as pointless but somehow totally cool sounding. Problem was he couldn’t pull it off, he kept getting distracted or just overwhelmed by the leaves getting dumped on him from above.

So now he sat on a ledge of Flower Fruit Mountain overlooking the sunset on the city, he liked to come here when he wanted to clear his head. On one hand it was freaking awesome he was the protégé of The Monkey King a warrior of renowned legendary might and skill…on the other hand sometimes it would dawn on him on just how daunting it was to live up to the expectations of an immortal warrior who seems to have seen everything the world has to offer and then some.

He sighed as he stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants before grabbing his staff. He began to walk he saw that he wasn’t the only one taking in the view with a sense of melancholy. As he got closer, he squawked in alarm as he saw the familiar flaming red hair and ragged jacket.

“RED SON??!!” this outburst caused Red Son to leap out of his skin and jump to his feet. “What are you doing here?!”

“Oh, push off Noodle Boy, last time I checked you don’t own this mountain!” Red Son snapped grabbing his stuff and storming off “But if you’re here that means Monkey King isn’t far behind and I rather not have to deal with him on top of everything else!”

“Huh? Hey wait!” MK shouted as he noticed the backpack. “What’s in there?!”

“None of your concern!” Red Son barked back.

“It is my concern when you show up on Monkey King’s Mountain with a suspicious bag! What’s in it?”

“It’s not a bomb or anything!”

“You got a BOMB??!!”

“Oh, for the love of…NO! I have not got a bomb or anything of the sort! I mean for pity’s sake I can literally throw fire balls why would I need to carry an explosive weapon??!!”

MK dashed forward and tried to grab the backpack and Red Son tried to pulled it away from him leading to a very childish game of tug of war.

“Lemme see what’s in it!”

“NO!”

“If you’ve got nothing to hide then you have nothing to worry about!”

“ITS MY STUFF SO LET GO!”

Sadly, a backpack that had endured many scorches from its owner and grounded by rubble could only bear so much and with one last pull from both sides the backpack’s fabric tore open and Red Son’s stuff poured onto the floor. Red Son dived down to grab what he could as MK took in the sights of clothes, food, and other mundane stuff.

“Dude…are you camping or something?” MK asked as he saw one of the items that had skidded out of Red Son’s reach, he knelt down to pick it up and saw it was a hand sized family portrait of Princess Iron Fan and Demon Bull King…before he could get a good look it was snatched from his hands.

“Just leave me alone!” Red Son growled “You can clearly see that I am not a threat!”

“Red …are you ok?”

Red Son was trying to figure out how to keep his stuff in a backpack with a massive hole in it, but he was also trying desperately to ignore the look of concern that was coming from his enemy.

“Are you running away from home?”

Red Son didn’t respond to that and he had stopped fiddling with his backpack as he was now staring sadly at the photo.

“Why?” MK asked softly.

“Why do you care?”

“I mean…I dunno…you and your dad seem to be getting on when I last saw you, seems strange that you’re running away!”

“I AM NOT RUNNING AWAY!” Red Son roared his hair flaring up in flames, gripping the photo tightly as he did. The flames died quickly as did Red Son’s anger as he then whispered “I’m…I’m…just making things easier for my parents…”

MK tilted his head in confusion, he looked at Red Son for a moment. This was a guy who was always so confident, loud and proud of his name and heritage he literally introduces himself in full name whenever he’s about to do something dastardly or anything for that matter. Now he was sitting there with a backpack full of his possessions, on a mountain far from home, staring at a family picture like he’s never going to see them again.

MK sat down next to Red Son, putting the staff away to show he meant no harm.

“Want to talk about it?”

Red Son looked away angrily.

“Ok how about I go first? You know how cool it is to have someone like the freaking Monkey King show up and say that’ll they teach you? It is don’t get me wrong but then you begin to see how big of a shadow you’re stuck under? We’re talking about a guy who literally stole from the heavens and got away with it and has beaten up who knows how many monsters and demons? I sometimes wonder if I’m ever gonna be good enough for this, it’s just feels like the whole universe is just waiting for me to screw up, just to prove that I can’t do it… y’know what I mean?” there a few moments of silence and MK was about to try again when he heard a small voice.

“At least he believes in you, it must be nice to have a someone like that.”

“Your parents don’t?”

“… …no…” Red Son muttered, “I overheard my father today telling someone that he considers me an embarrassment to the family name, along with a few other choice words…”

“So, you…left?”

“I don’t know I wasn’t thinking at the time!” Red Son cried out angrily tugging at his head in frustration, “I want prove to my father that I am worthy of being his son but how? How do I show him that I’m not a …a…pathetic whelp?”

There was a heavy tense silence between them as they both looked at each other and then at the city, the sun nearing finished setting and the in the twilight the city lights began to shine.

“You know what?” MK declared as he got up. “We both need a break!”

“What?”

“A break from all this living up to people’s expectations and ideals! A chance to recharge the batteries and get some of that well-being self-care stuff!”

“What exactly are you proposing?” Red Son inquired nervously.

“We can just hang out; you know play games and chill? Also, you can stay at mine till you get this all sorted out!”

Red Son looked at MK like he had just announced that the moon was made of cream cheese and was inhabited by flying guinea pigs.

“So…a truce?” he ventured nervously

“Yeah! My friends and I don’t fight you, and you don’t fight us!”

Red Son looked down at his destroyed backpack, then glanced at the mountain side he was on and realised that maybe coming up here to hide was a dumb idea.

“It not like I’ve got anything better to do!” he grumbled.

“AWESOME!” MK beamed “Let’s go! We’re gonna be Truce Buddies!”

#monkie kid red son #red son #monkie kid #monkie kid mk #spiceynoodle #sort of but kind of

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obsessive-ego · 5 years ago

Text

Invisible?

Beetlejuice x reader

Beej and reader have a fight, reader pretends beej is invisible to get back at him

Sorta nsft, crude language

"I cant believe you, I asked you multiple times, we had a deal and still"

Beetlejuice, after promising he wouldnt, scared the piss out of your friend who dropped by to help you fix your laptop, you two had a deal, he refrains from scaring and you buy him those salted tarantulas he loved so much. But no, he broke your deal. Your poor friend was was in tears it was so bad, he even left his coat behind, even worse he wouldnt responded to your calls or texts as you were trying to do damage control and cover up what beetlejuice did.

"Come on babes, i was doing ya a favor-"

"How?! By ruining what little soical life I have?! Making the people I care about be afraid to come near me?!" You snap back, you didnt have many friends, there was nothing wrong with that, you just only had a few, and now you're terrified that you lost one for good because of the demon.

Glancing to your phone, still no response

"Well he's gotta come back for his coat sugar" beetlejuice shrugs

You scowl at the ghoul, Beetlejuice's confidence shrinks at the sight of how mad you really were, to the point it looked like you were going to cry, he huffs.

"Like I said sugar, I was doing you a favor, I KNOW guys like that, they help a gal out, in hopes they'll get a little-"

"YOU DONT KNOW SHIT!"

the ghoul flinches at your tone, purple hue taking over his appearance, you never raised your voice to that extent.

"We had a deal, you broke it cuz you dont care about anything but a cheap thrill" you were right in his face, it was a weird scene, a delicate breather yelling at a demon they have backed into the wall.

"Whoa there, believe me, your friend-"

"I don't want to hear it, if shit went bad I would have called you, but they would never do that, you're just looking for an excuse to-" you sigh, deflating and anger being replaced with exhaustion "who cares, theres no point in even arguing with you, just forget it" you back down, and shuffle to your bedroom to mope, curious on why you gave up, beetlejuice follows, till he gets to your room, placing his ear against the door, nothing.

He huffs, okay so maybe he just wanted to scare your friend, to have his cake and eat it too, and maybe he was jealous at how well the two of you got along, and yeah he was lying on how he could tell your friend had alternative motives, but hes a demon straight from hell, scaring is what he does, deal or no deal, you dont ask a bird to stop flying. Floating over to the living room he flops down on the couch, he sighs, whatever, you'll be back to your easy going self tomorrow, and you'll forgive him, like always, you were the bigger person after all.

...

Morning comes and Beetlejuice perks up when he sees you heading to the kitchen to start your morning routine, he quickly joins you, eager to see if your not as mad as you were for his little joke.

"Morning babes"

No response, maybe you're still half asleep.

"G'morning" the tries again a little louder, still no response, he huffs, grabbing onto your arm and giving it a yank, causing you to stumble "I said, morning"

You yank your arm back, refusing to look at the ghoul as you continue to make your coffee

You brush past him as if he was invisible, you were still mad.

"So you're gonna give me the cold shoulder huh? You're gonna regret that" he mutters watching you stare at your phone as you enjoyed your morning coffee.

It starts off simple, beetlejuice slapping your phone out of your hand, and you picking it back up as if you dropped it, then he bumped it up following you around the house being in the way, following you into your room, leaning against the door watching you get dressed, making lewd comments and gestures the entire time

"Pretty cute panties sugar, shame they don't match the bra" "why dont you just hang around in your undies today baby? It's too hot to not" giving you a jerking off motion the whole time you were changing.

But Still no response from you, you were being so stone faced, beetlejuice had to legit question if he was invisible again, he wasnt. What happened to his jumpy easily embarrassed breather? Were you really that upset?

The entire day went on like this, every time you would make eye contact with beej he would pull a disgusting face to try and get something from you, dehinging his jaw, and have a tarantula crawl out, or replacing his eyes with mouths, at one point he pull out all the stops, a face so horrible and horrific, he did get you to react,seeing the colour drain from your face, but you made a quick retreat to the bathroom to regroup, a small victory and he took it, shame you didnt scream or curse at him though.

Leaning against the closed bathroom door he snickers "nice try babes, I'll give ya that, but no one can ignore the ghost with the most, so how about you drop this silly game"

No response

Enough was enough, Hes had it with this childish game, you're supposed to be the bigger person not him, beetlejuice phases his head through the door, completely red "I WILL NOT BE IGNORED Y/N" he shrieked, steam practically coming out of his ears.

And as if on cue, you leave the bathroom as if you didnt have a ghost head screaming at you on the door.

The red quickly leaves Beetlejuice's hair and is replaced with an awful mix of blue and purple, this was worse then being banished, he'd rather have you yelling at him then this, at least you'd be talking to him, acknowledging him, pulling his head out of the door, he floats after you.

Seeing you sitting on the couch messing around with your phone, he sits down next to you, you dont look up from what you're doing, but you do notice his now purple and blue hue, as bad as you feel about that, You cant break now.

The rest if the evening beetlejuice hung close by you, never saying a word, never touching you, just being there, watching you.

As you head to bed, the ghoul doesnt follow, he stays behind twiddling his thumbs, feeling rotten, he forgot how awful it was to be invisible, and hell he wasnt, he was just being treated as such, what's gotten into you? You're never this strict on being mad with him, you normally would break by now. He sighs, were you really that mad at him messing with your friend? How long will this go on? He didnt want the one breather he cared for so much to pretend he wasnt there anymore. Being invisible sucks, being alone sucks, he wants your attention back, he wants you back.

As you get yourself ready for bed, you hear a knock at your door, weird, cuz beetlejuice would either just barge in or walk through the wall, before you could debate on acknowledging him you hear him speak

"Hey, y/n? I get it, you're pissed, and this is you getting back at me, yeah, I know I broke our deal, and our promise, and scared the piss out of that scrawny breather, and I'm sorry"

You basically go bug eyed at that, you didnt think beetlejuice was capable of apologizing

"I'd rather you be screaming at me till you're blue in the tits, then to have you ignore me, a harsh reminder how lonely I use to be when I was invisible, without you, so..." he trailed off

You opened the door to see the demon, completely purple, he flinches at the sight of you, nervous on how you'd react

"I forgive you" you say softly

You see Beetlejuice's expression change on a dime, to depressed to over joyed, in a split second you were in him arms, his scruffy beard rubbing against your neck as he spun you around the room, once the spinning stops the demon still hold you tight, refusing to let your feet touch the ground.

"That's all I wanted from you, an apology" you manage to squeak out

"You should have said so sweets"

"That's not the point" you push away from the ghoul as a signal you want to be pit down, he reluctantly does so "the point is I shouldn't have to tell you, and I know it's something we gotta work on if we're gonna make this whole thing work, I dont like being mad at you" you sigh "but let's drop it for tonight yeah?" You walk over to the bed, turning to face the demon, slightly purple, fiddling with his tie, you give him a soft smile "would you like to sleep with me tonight?"

The purple hue quickly leaves him and is replaced with soft pink and green, yes beetlejuice has slept with you on many occasions, but was NEVER invited, he always just snuck in while you were asleep and see your embarrassed face in the morning.

"Only if you'll respect me in the morning, babes"

You snort a laugh "of course Beej"

In a flash you were tucked in with beetlejuice next to you, his arms wrapped around you, more then two, hands holding you as if you would up and leave him, one tangled in your hair, one rubbing your back, one on each shoulder, hell you even felt them gripping your ankles, and yet not a one groping you in any way, it was a mess of limbs.

"I guess you're not invisible anymore huh?" You whisper

The demon snorts, pulling you closer to his side "you're gonna regret that joke sugar"

You try to smile but are interrupted with a yawn.

"Night sweets"

Bonus

Waking up in the middle of the night as you're known to do, forgetting the demon was holding you, you wake up in an anxious state, you quickly calm down when you remember what happened earlier. The ghoul's hands were still all over you, still shocked that not a single one has tried to grope you, as he was known to do.

You sigh content that your little childish game got the better of him, yes you felt bad about it, but it paid off to get him to take something seriously.

As you were about to go back to sleep a low grumble catches your attention, looking over to beej, in the dark you you could see he was more purple then green, you frown.

"Y/n don't leave me alone...." a low mumble, Beetlejuice's grip tightens around you, pulling you close to him, was he talking in his sleep?

You snuggle close to the demon, gently kiss his lips and whisper

"I wont, I promise"

Despite the ghoul being asleep you swear you see him smile.

Tomorrow you'll make it up to him for your childish torment.

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader

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yeojaa · 5 years ago

Text

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears. You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard. The best part? You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main. He might just love you.

alt summary. Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing. jeon jungkook

genre + rating. fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags. long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish), eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch. tags are hard. :(

reading. n/a. a three part one-shot.

word count. ~2750

part ii.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 15 March, 2020. 2:01 AM.

He falls for you in between the tireless teasing, the laughter that sinks into his ears and replays like a highlight reel. It happens when he leasts expects it, when he's got his face pressed into the velvet of Yeontan's fur and you're cooing over voice chat, whispering sweet nothings to the manic panic pup. It comes in the moments he's not expecting it to, when he's frustrated and unbearable and you're as sunny as always, spilling yellow paint across the doors he tries to keep shut.

Bit by bit, day by day, he finds himself thinking of you more.

First, it's wondering what you're doing while he's half-asleep and on his way to the studio. Do you look as tired as you sound? What colour is your hair and how does it stick up when you've just rolled out of bed? When you yawn, do you stretch like a cat? He thinks you do, if the sounds you make are any indication.

Then it's asking himself whether you might like the same things he does, from horror movies to carnival rides. Would you hold his hand as you made the drop, stomachs leaping into your throats? Would you scream? Would it sound anything like that terrified pterodactyl noise you make when you're spawn camped by a Roadhog? He doesn't consider the fact that he doesn't even know if you're in the same city and you'll likely never meet - bound to the servers of Overwatch only.

He thinks about all the things he'd like to do with you. Video game nights filled with butter-tipped fingers and spilled popcorn. Walks with your family dog - Natto - you'd told him about, all fluffy white fur and dark teddy bear eyes. Sunrises on the rooftop of his building, because you had the worst insomnia he'd ever seen and what better way to spend your endless waking hours than with him.

Jeon Jungkook knows he'll probably never get any of these things, but he lets himself daydream anyway.

Like now, for instance, as the two of you sit in another queue at 2 AM. You just woke up and you've got that tell-tale rattle in your lungs, words sluggish and lacking any real intent. He imagines you look the way you sound - tired and a little out of it, with barely opened eyes and sleep-loosened limbs.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks softly, crossing his legs beneath him and raising his arms high above his head in the same instance. The bones of his body realign, ridges of his spine clicking into place when he knots his fingers together and pulls taut.

"You know - the usual," you muse, apathetic. It's always the same.

He doesn't question it any further. He had once or twice, when you'd first started talking and he'd noticed the way you were always up at inhuman times. One grumbling response had told him enough - your schedule was what it was and no amount of remedying could fix it.

There's a beat of silence before he hears rustling and then the loud, inescapable sound of an electric toothbrush. You don't bother to mute your microphone, not that he minds. He simply sits quietly, scrolling through his phone as you go about your "morning" routine.

"How was your day?" You're settled back at your computer, he thinks. The acoustics sound far less like that of a bathroom.

"I had the day off, actually." He'd used it to edit some footage and record a cover. He hasn't posted it to Twitter yet - there were certain times he was supposed to, to maximize visibility - but he's excited for when he does. It's a song that's been stuck in his head for weeks, all thanks to you.

"Woah - you didn't work today?" There's genuine surprise in your question, rounded syllables that pop off your tongue in an explosion of shock.

“Right?” He laughs a little, short and sweet.

Despite his carefully crafted facade, there were certain plot points that just stuck, intrinsically weaved into his day-to-day whether he liked it or not.

His jam packed schedule, for instance.

To you, it’s the result of stretching himself too thin between teaching at his friend’s dance studio (where he also apparently moonlights as a personal trainer) and working as a videographer for his media-involved friends. Not that you know any of them. No, no. All the work he does is for the little guys - none of those big companies like BigHit or JYP. Jungkook’s just your average Joe behind the camera.

“What did you do all day then?” You’re still in awe, little flecks of wonder threaded throughout like glittering gold yarn.

“Hung out. Did some editing. I’m kind of behind.” That was an understatement. He’s working on footage from six months ago, trying to get it out before they head on tour and he won’t have the kind of time he has now.

“Probably spending too much time gaming.”

“Yeah, probably.” Not that he minds, or that he’d change it. He savours the time you spend together, even if it has kind of messed up his sleep schedule.

“Sorry not sorry,” you quip, seemingly reading his mind.

“You should be,” he retorts with laughter that builds in his stomach and echoes out of his chest. “I don’t think I’ve had a good night's sleep in weeks.”

If you hadn’t had this conversation a handful of times before, he thinks you might be offended. Instead, he can practically hear you roll your eyes - imagines your optic nerve nearly severs with the intensity of it - and grins.

“Don’t kid yourself - you know I’m the best thing about your nights!”

You’re not wrong. “You’ve been lied to.”

“I’m suing!”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer.”

“Wait, what?”

The two of you have done what you always do - talked yourself into a tizzy that has you both laughing, sound crackling across the airwaves. It’s nonsensical and silly but it feels good. Your bond shines with it, glitters prettily between you.

Thank god for Overwatch.

You return the conversation to a semblance of normalcy first. “Did you listen to that song I sent?”

“Yeah.” The briefest pause. “It was terrible. Hated it.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“I’m kidding. It was really good.” Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he’s had it on repeat for the past few days, saved to the private playlist that’s filled with the rest of your song recommendations.

“I know!” You’re preening as if he’d just complimented you, clearly pleased by the praise. He supposes it’s a pretty good endorsement regardless.

“Got any more for me?”

“I should just make you a playlist.”

He ignores the way his heart skips a very real beat, mimics the erratic rhythm of his fingers on his keyboard. Because he’d absolutely love that.

“You should.”

“Really?” You sound uncertain but maybe - just maybe - a little hopeful. He might also just be imagining things, as he so often does with you.

“Yeah. Why not?” It comes nonchalantly despite the rushing in his ears, the wave that threatens to drown him. He can feel emotion in his chest - winged and distracting. A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering away.

You’re quiet for another second. It feels like an eon. “Okay, yeah. I’ll start one and we can just add to it together.”

BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT’S GYM Thursday, 26 March, 2020. 6:30 PM.

“You sound like a meathead,” you say, off-hand and disinterested.

He loathes the grunt that squeaks past his teeth as he gently returns the dumbbells to the floor. Cue a generous chug of water and a near death experience when the liquid goes down the wrong pipe.

Loud coughing crackles through his airpods before he’s addressing you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re grunting like a caveman.”

If your first comment hadn’t offended him, this one does. Jungkook scoffs, tonguing the interior of his cheek as his brow furrows. Weights are returned to his hands, rotated above each shoulder as he resumes another set of presses.

“Do you even workout anything other than your fingers?” He’s making a conscious effort not to make a sound, breath exhaled sharply through his nose. It’s harder than he cares to admit but he’s also not about to give you an excuse to tease him further. You already had way too much material.

“Don’t shame me!” You really don’t sound that indignant.

“So, I’m right? You’re a big couch potato who’s just jealous of my hot body?”

Now you’re incredulous. It’s one of his favourite sounds because it comes draped in laughter, dancing around his head in the form of cartoon hearts.

“Did you just say ‘hot body’, Jay?”

“Maybe I did. What of it?” He sniffs - he’s picked it up from you over the months - and your amusement doubles, giggles crashing into each other in their haste.

“You are so, so weird.” There’s a tenderness in your voice that he’d like to live in. It wraps him up like a hug, tugging at his feeble little heartstrings.

“Weird and hot.”

“You can’t just say that!”

“Why not?” If anything, you’re the one person he can say it to. With you, it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made. It’s playful and silly, with no rhyme or reason. He doesn’t have to worry about it being misconstrued or held against him.

“You just can’t! Only other people can say it.” You sigh dramatically, from your chest. “Do I have to teach you everything?”

“Everything but being healthy, probably.”

“Har har har.”

He can tell by how the words roll off your tongue, muffled and lacking clarity, that you’re eating. He wonders if you’ve made pancakes - you’d been complaining about craving them just two days ago. There are no tell-tale crunching or slurping, so he knows it isn’t your usual double whammy combo of ramyeon and Choco Boys.

“I’ll have you know I used to run.” Something about the way you say it makes him believe you, even though he wants to mock you a little more.

“In gym class doesn’t count.”

“I used to run with Natto, you ass!” Okay - so that actually sounded legitimate.

“Why don’t you still then?”

“There was an incident once.” You’re sipping on something - likely coffee with oat milk and two pumps of hazelnut syrup. It doesn’t matter that it’s dinner time and most people would be winding down for the evening. “Because of my insomnia, I’d run at odd hours. One day, some weirdo stopped me while I was running along the river. He didn’t hurt me or anything—” A part of him thinks you’re downplaying it but he says nothing, only waiting for you to continue. “—but he followed me home. I made the mistake of telling my parents and they freaked out so…”

“So no more running by yourself.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’d run with you.” It doesn’t mean much, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks, Jay.”

Not for the first time, he wishes he could hear his name - his real name. Just once.

“JUNGKOOOOOOOOOOK.” It eats up every ounce of space of the gym, filling the room with the resounding boom of it. How it manages to be so loud, he’s not sure. He wishes it weren’t. There’s no way you haven’t heard it.

Especially not when it comes again, deafening even to his occupied ears.

“JUNGKOOOOK-AH!” Namjoon now, right as the double doors fly open.

Jimin’s barreling toward the alarmed maknae as he shouts. “WE’RE DOING A VLIVE!”

Jungkook feels like his insides are melting - his internal temperature spiking with embarrassment and worry and something that chants oh no! over and over in his head. The tops of his ears are burning, as is the column of his throat. A quick glance in the mirror confirms his suspicion that he is, indeed, bright tomato red.

“Jay?” You repeat once, twice, when he doesn’t immediately answer. “Everything okay?”

He moves with a speed he doesn’t expect, weights unceremoniously dropped on either side of him before he’s tearing his AirPods out. “I’ve got to go. Sorry!”

He doesn’t end the Discord call a moment too soon, Jimin upon him in the next instant. The smaller dancer is draping himself across Jungkook’s shoulders, the widest shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

“Want to join us for a VLive?”

“No. I’m busy.”

“Busy with your girlfriend?” Jimin’s wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He only stops when Jungkook shifts aggressively, tearing himself out from underneath the other.

“Not my girlfriend!”

“But you wish she was!”

He can’t deny that, so he doesn’t bother, instead seizing his discarded weights with an embarrassed scowl permanently etched into the planes of his face. He’s reracking them - because god, he’s not an animal - when he notices Jimin making his departure, that teasing smile replaced with something soft and edging on concern.

“What’re you going to do when we’re on tour?”

Jungkook blanches then. You’d become such an undeniable part of his everyday life that he hadn’t even considered what it’d mean when he was busier than now, unable to spend late nights gaming with you.

But Jimn’s already gone, leaving him and his thoughts alone.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Friday, 27 March, 2020. 12:05 AM.

It’s close to midnight by the team he logs on. Realistically, he should go to sleep. He’s clean and worn out and his bed is calling to him like a siren at sea. But you’re sitting alone in the channel, streaming Overwatch for no one to see, and he can’t just leave it at that.

He needs to say goodnight, like he always does.

“Coming for my title as Headshot God?” The quip’s off his tongue before you have a chance to acknowledge him, your laughter the first thing he hears once he’s connected.

“I’ve been waiting in this queue for seven minutes. Seven!”

It’s really not that bad. The rare times you’d both queue for DPS were nearly double that.

“Patience is key,” he teases, slumping into his chair as he watches you click through your Hero Gallery. You’re cruising seemingly aimlessly, roving through the different skins for your mains (Mercy, Ana, Genji, Ashe). The silence between you is comfortable, interspersed only by the occasional munching he can only assume comes from the carrots you seem to inhale.

For all the junk you ate, you were somehow also weirdly into vegetables.

“Patience sucks,” you retort, matter-of-fact.

“You know what else sucks?”

It’s a rhetorical question and he knows you know, but because you’re you, you start listing things off just to get under his skin. “Spiders? Undercooked samgyupsal? Not having coffee? Your jokes?”

If he weren’t laughing so hard, he might’ve given you shit for making fun of his comedic genius. He really doesn’t understand how you think he’s the unfunny one when all you do is crack puns.

“I was actually going to say me,” he finally manages in between those high pitched cackles of his.

“Wait, why?” You’re used to him having witty comebacks.

Edge of enamel worries his bottom lip and Jungkook can taste cherry Chapstick and what would be bashfulness, if it had a flavour. “For earlier.”

You scoff, your own tinkling laughter tearing him out from inside his own head.

“It’s okay, goofball.”

He appreciates how laidback you are, never holding anything against him. Not even when he hangs up on you or accidentally spams you with memes when you’re trying (and failing) to sleep. “No. I’m sorry.” He says it earnestly, with all the meaning he can muster.

MATCH FOUND flickers across his and your screen and you’re loading into hero selection. He knows you’ll be too distracted once the game starts, so he’s grateful when you laugh again, sweet as summer.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Just tell me everything’s okay and we’re even.”

Inhale, exhale. Try not to tell her you have the biggest, stupidest crush on her, he tells himself.

“Everything’s okay.” And he means it when he says it, though they aren’t the words he wishes he could say.

“Good.”

You’ve chosen Genji, He smiles to himself when you join voice chat and the rest follow, greetings filtering in from your team members.

“Good luck.” You don’t need it. He still likes to say it.

“You have an early day tomorrow, right?” Leave it to you to remember his schedule even when he doesn’t.

“Yeah, pretty early.”

“Then go to bed! I’ll still be awake when you’re up.”

He lingers on that fact - holds it tightly in his hands so it can’t slip away. You’d be there in the morning, just like you always were. Knowing that stirs those same butterflies in his chest, words stolen by the overzealous beating of their wings.

You read his silence like they’re your own thoughts, “I’m always here for you, Jay.”

“Goodnight.”

"Sleep sweet."

notes. this chapter is set four-ish months following the first, in case that’s not clear. :)

tag list. @teawithbucky

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the-cult-of-russo · 4 years ago

Text

Push and Pull (Part 15)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, smut

---------

It was bright and early when Daphne woke up the next morning. She had things to do and no time to waste. The sun was shining through her window, the weather finally starting to get warmer. She put on some leggings with a tank top and then her zip up hoodie over it. She groaned at her hair in the mirror as she dragged her brush through the unruly locks. So many times she considered cutting it so it wasn't so much work, but she knew she'd regret it. Instead, she settled on tossing it up into a high pony and ignoring it. Her trusty backpack was slung around her shoulder and she hopped around as she put her vans on before leaving the apartment.

She squinted slightly at the light once she got out of the building but it didn't deter her. First stop. Coffee. One large latte to go later, she was on her way to see Brett to find out what news he might have. She tossed her now empty cup in the trash can beside the station before she jogged up the steps and inside. She never checked in with the desk, she was a ghost when she was here. That's how it worked. It wasn't such a secret anymore than she was on Brett's payroll which left her to come and go as she pleased, but officially, she was never there. When she walked into the office area, Brett was sitting at his desk just like the day before. He looked like he hadn't even gone home.

"You look like shit," she mused teasingly, putting down the other coffee she'd gotten for him. His eyes lit up at the sight of it and he gave her a tired smile.

"You're an angel," he muttered with a long pull from his drink as she sat down. The coffee at the precinct was the worst and never really did its job.

"Any news yet?" She tried to hide the impatience in her voice but she wasn't sure she succeeded.

"Actually, we do have something. Not quite sure the full details yet though," he murmured. She looked at him expectantly.

"The people we rescued, their fingertips were burnt right off just like the last time. We can't identify most of 'em until they're fully coherent. But they're doing alright. I just can't believe the Chinese were at it again right under our goddamn noses," he fumed, taking another slurp of his coffee.

"I'm not surprised. They probably picked it back up when the heat turned off them again," she sighed. She hoped that once the victims were in a better state they'd be able to get names from them. Some of them might have family that were looking for them.

"Anything from the device?" She asked hopefully

"Yeah, actually. The Chinese requested the meet. They were pretty vague about a lot of shit but they kept saying something about the Italians having a weapon and they wanted to use it. Seemed to be brokering a deal about it. I got no idea what the hell this weapon is, but the Chinese really fucking want it and the Italians already have it. And that makes me nervous as shit," he frowned.

It made her nervous too. What did the Italians have that the Chinese couldn't get for themselves? And why did they want it?

"Well that's unsettling," she huffed with a shake of her head.

"Tell me about it. Good news though, that device you planted must be well hidden. It’s still live and active," he flashed her a grin and she smiled herself as she gave herself a mental pat on the back.

"Do you think it'll be useful?" She inquired.

"No telling yet. I mean mostly it'll be the kitchen staff but it might pick up something. Any other meets we might not be aware of or anyone saying something. Even something small can lead to something big, right?" He smirked, practically quoting her. It made her chuckle.

"At least that's something. If we can figure out what weapon the Italians have we can figure out how bad this all is," she said softly. It made her nervous and she had a feeling things would get messy soon in Hell's Kitchen.

"Here's hoping. There ain't much for you to do with the case right now but I'll let you know when we get any more information. It's just a waiting game now," he replied.

"Ah, my favourite," she smirked sarcastically, causing him to snort. She wasn't known for having patience. She liked answers and she liked them immediately. But in this case, playing the long game would be the only option to getting to the bottom of it all.

She bid her goodbyes to him not long after that before making her way back out into the sunshine. Now it was her next pit stop. A short cab ride later and she was at a very fancy luxurious home. It was more like a mansion and was three stories high. It looked like it was right out of a movie with one of those grand entrances and a water feature out front. She was well out of place as dressed down as she was but she knocked on the door anyway. She wasn't even surprised when a butler answered the door.

"Can I help you, miss?" The older man asked softly. His black and white uniform was crisp and clean and it put her own rumpled clothes to shame.

"I'm here to see Mrs Grimes. I'm Daphne Weaver," she replied awkwardly.

"One moment please," he shut the door and she quirked her brow at how formal all this was. This better pay well. Suddenly the door opened again and he smiled at her.

"This way please. She's been hoping you'd come," he seemed a little friendlier now. Maybe it was because his boss wanted her here so he wasn't all suspicious of what she wanted. Either way, she followed him inside. He led her up the huge ass staircase, the kind that split off at the middle. Everything looked like it cost a million dollars, from the art to all the rare looking things in cabinets. She didn't even feel worthy enough to touch the banister so she kept her hands in her hoodie pocket.

The carpet was lush and a deep purple colour and she found her eyes wandering the hallway they walked down. How many rooms does someone need? No wonder she had staff, upkeep on this place would be a ball ache. They reached a room far down the left and he knocked on the heavy looking mahogany door.

"Enter," a female voice rang out. It was slightly accented but she couldn't place it. Jeeves opened the door and gestured for her to go inside. She glanced around the room curiously as she walked in. It was a living area with a grand fire. Heavy bookcases lined the walls of the room and were filled with what looked to be antique books that Daphne found herself wanting to look at. There was a giant fur rug in front of the fireplace with velvet looking sofas set in front of it.

That's where Mrs Grimes was sitting, looking perfectly in place for where she was. She was wearing a long black dress, heels bigger than anything Daphne could ever walk in. Her greying blonde hair was neatly coiffed and pinned up and she was dripping in diamonds. Jesus.

"Pleasure to meet you Ms Weaver, please sit," she smiled warmly at her, gesturing to the other sofa. Daphne was half worried her vans would dirty the goddamn carpet as she padded over and plonked down. Despite it being completely over the top and not really her taste, she did appreciate however how clean and neat everything was kept. A place like this could easily fall into being cluttered and dusty but it was pristine. She supposed the staff were to thank for that. Mrs Grimes' nails were so long she doubted she could do much cleaning herself. Daphne wasn't sure how she didn't accidentally gauge her own eyes out.

"Would you like something to drink?" She asked politely. Jeeves was still hovering near the door no doubt waiting for his command. She was tempted to say yes to see what kind of beverages the other side drank, but she didn't want to stay long.

"Uh… no thank you. I'm fine," she replied with an awkward smile.

"Very well. Hammond, leave us," she dismissed the man at the door. He gave a dramatic nod before he left and shut the door behind him. She idly wondered if he ever wanted to punch his bosses when they commanded him to do things like that. She'd never be able to hold a job like that down.

"I'm glad you came, I was worried you wouldn't," the older woman started, elegantly crossing one leg over the other.

"A job's a job," Daphne snorted lightly, her hands still stuffed in her pockets lest she touch something and ruin it. Mrs Grimes gave her a tense smile, looking like it was difficult to be polite. Maybe she wasn't used to the lower class being in her home.

"Indeed it is. Will you take the case?" She asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I'll be able to do it. As I tell all my clients, I don't give out time frames. I never know how long it'll take me to find what I need or what roadblocks might come up. I don't appreciate impatience and it doesn't make me work any faster," she said firmly. Establishing boundaries was the first thing she liked to do. It was important. Especially with the wealthy ones as in her experience they tended to be the impatient ones with their self importance.

"Very well. I accept your terms. And please, whatever you find, do tell me," she implored. Daphne nodded, she always did no matter how shitty the information she'd gained was. Mrs Grimes stood, walking somehow with grace and ease in those monster heels as she walked over to a cupboard near the wall. She opened a drawer and came back with some paper.

"Me and my husband used to be very much in love. And I'm afraid now that I'm older he's decided to find other companions. Call me paranoid but I'm sure you understand when to look into a gut feeling," she mused as she walked back over and sat down. Daphne nodded again. Her gut was rarely wrong and it was telling her that Mrs Grimes was right.

"I want confirmation. I want to know who with and how deep it runs. If it's just physical or something more. I want to prepare myself should he try to divorce me and take what I have. I need proof," she stated seriously. Daphne's eyes subconsciously swept across the room and all the fancy things in it.

"I know what you're thinking. And I was the one with money, not him. He makes a decent amount with his job but I was born with money. This house was passed through my family for generations. Everything in it I bought. But over the years I've had my eyes opened to how greedy my husband can be. I cannot trust if we separate that he won't try to take everything from me," she sounded bitter and Daphne wasn't surprised. They definitely sounded like they had issues and once trust was gone in a relationship, everything else had no foundation to stand on. It wouldn't last. She commended the woman for thinking ahead to make sure she was protected if it came down to it. This kind of bullshit was why relationships were too much work.

"I'll find out what I can. I'll be honest, some of my methods aren't quite… legal. But it gets the job done," Daphne muttered. Things like breaking and entering were definitely illegal and then there was hacking if she ever needed to do it, which in this case might prove useful.

"Good," Mrs Grimes smirked at her. She found herself smirking back at her. The rich typically didn't care too much about how she got the information, just that she got it. Mrs Grimes reached down to her Gucci purse, setting it on her lap and she grabbed something out of it. It was her wallet and Daphne was curious what her offer would be. She hadn't spoken to her about price points yet and when it came to her wealthier clients she made a point of waiting to see what their offer would be first. Usually she’d haggle a little just because she could. They'd have the money and they wanted the information.

She watched with a keen eye as Mrs Grimes took a chunk of money out and handed it to her. A quick count told her it was $1000 and it took effort for her eyes to not bulge out as she kept a cool calm facade.

"That's the deposit. You'll get the rest when the work is complete. Another $1000. I may give you more depending on just how much you find out," she drawled. So she wouldn't need to haggle then, this price was insane and way more than what the job would entail, but like fuck she would tell her that. She also appreciated the incentive. She liked a challenge, something to work towards. The more she found out then the more she'd get paid.

"Sounds good to me. I'll get started in the next few days," she replied, keeping her calm demeanour and not acting like she was thinking of what she would spend her money on once she got it all. She carefully stuffed it in her backpack before zipping it back up. She almost jumped when the older woman dinged a bell beside the table and it took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes as the butler walked in.

"Yes, Mrs Grimes?" He enquired politely.

"Please see Ms Weaver out. Have one of our drivers drop her off to wherever she needs to go," she commanded softly. Part of her wanted to protest but the other wanted to pretend she lived the fancy life, even if just for a moment.

They both stood and Mrs Grimes took her hand in one of those fancy people hand shakes that were flimsy and light.

"It was a pleasure, Ms Weaver. I hope to hear from you soon," she smiled.

"Likewise," she replied, not really knowing what to say. No matter how many well off clients she saw she always felt weird and out of place interacting with them. She followed Jeeves out the hall and down the large stairs case. He stopped when he got by the front door and picked up a phone that was attached to the wall. She stood there looking around as the man spoke in hushed tones down the receiver before hanging up and then opening the grand front door.

"Have a lovely day, Ms Weaver," he bowed politely.

"Uh… you too," she murmured as she stepped outside.

The door shut with a clang behind her and she was suddenly on her own outside. It didn't last long though as a large black car pulled up right at the entryway.

"Ms Weaver?" A man called out after rolling the window down. She nodded and walked over. She was getting sick of being called that name. The man hopped out, jogging over to the back of the car and opening the door for her. This really was fancy service. She gave him an uncomfortable smile, not used to this level of service from anyone. It felt wrong almost. But she slipped inside and settled in the ridiculously comfy car seats.

"Where to, Miss?" The man asked once he was situated behind the wheel again.

"Um… Fogwell's gym please," she murmured in response. He punched in something on the phone he was using with the GPS and then he took off. There was a reason she was dressed the way she was after all. She didn't want to think of Matt being a weird asshole the day before. As much as part of her considered not going, she really needed to train and she knew he would be there. She was too stubborn to let Matt's weird PMSing get in the way of her learning to defend herself properly.

The drive was uncomfortably silent and she clutched her backpack on her knees. She wondered what it was like to live this life full time. She was a bitch but she didn't feel right with commanding people to do shit, even if she was paying them. It just felt off to her. Before long, the car pulled up in front of the gym. She almost felt like she should pay him or something, totally not used to this kind of exchange. As she unbuckled her seat belt, the man got out and ran around to her door. He opened it and she slipped out, swinging her bag over her shoulder. She noticed the apprehensive look on his face as he looked at the rundown gym.

"Are you sure, Miss?" He asked quietly, like he was asking her to blink twice if she needed help. She almost snorted but gave him a polite smile. She guessed his boss wasn't used to being around places like this. She appreciated his sentiments all the same though.

"I'm sure," she said softly. He nodded, still looking unhappy about it but there was nothing he could do. With a nod, he was back in the car and taking off by the time she walked through the door.

She was quiet and heard loud grunting and the hits of a punching bag. As she came into view, she saw Matt beating the holy hell out of the bag. His fists were flying, grunts and pants leaving his lips with the flurry of punches. The graceful savagery was what always intrigued her about him. But then typically he'd open his mouth and ruin it. He hadn't seemed to notice her yet once again which honestly was perturbing since anyone could come in here and sneak up on him like that. She walked over to the bench, setting her backpack down with a thud. The grunts and punches stopped instantly and the only sound that echoed in the gym was Matts heavy breathing.

"Didn't think you'd show," he said carelessly.

"I wasn't sure either honestly. But I need to train, even if I do have to put up with your bitch ass," she muttered as she started wrapping her hands. He scoffed as he came over, grabbing his water bottle and drinking a large pull from it. He tossed the bottle down again as he made his way to the ring.

"Alright, come on then," he demanded.

"What? I don't get to warm up first?" She asked skeptically with a raised brow. He snorted coldly and shook his head.

"You wanna know how to defend yourself for real, there is no warming up. When you're out there in a situation like this, you don't get that luxury," he retorted. She rolled her eyes but honestly couldn't argue with sound logic.

Instead, she bit her tongue as she put on the gloves and climbed inside of the ring. Matt cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as they squared off with one another.

"Let's go," he smirked devilishly. He lunged at her but she moved just in time, twirling around as they practically traded places. They started trading blows, although his were very clearly intended not to hurt her, and she was pleased she got some good jabs in. She didn't slow down or stop this time when he deflected or managed a light shot to her side. She just came back twice as hard. She was proud of herself. Her heart was thumping away from the adrenaline and the exertion of the sparring after a while and she leaned against the ropes as they both caught their breath.

"You did good. You're getting better," he sounded reluctant to give her the praise and she rolled her eyes a little at him.

"I want you to teach me how to get out of the hold from last time," she said firmly. His head turned to her then, his hazel eyes not quite landing directly at her as he narrowed them.

"Daphne, I don't think-" he started, only to be promptly cut off.

"It's fine. I need to learn and I'll get over it. I think I'll be fine this time," she urged. She meant it too. She still had lingering effects of her attack but she was feeling a little better recently. And after her and Matt's partially regrettable night together, she hadn't had a nightmare for the first night since it happened. She knew the sex had helped. Whenever she needed to feel better and clear her head, she would have sex. It's why her sister was so worried it would become a crux for her. Her sex with Matt had done wonders for her stress and anxiety over the whole thing so she felt like now was the perfect time to try to learn it.

He was quiet for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh. He yanked his gloves off and tossed them out of the ring and she followed suit before he changed his mind. Climbing to the floor, she lay on her back and bent her knees just like the last time. As he knelt down between her legs, it was hard not to think of the night they shared together and how similar it was.

"Ready?" He asked reluctantly. She gave him a firm nod he couldn't see but could sense and he brought his hands to her throat. Once again, he applied very little pressure but she lay perfectly still. Her heart wasn't hammering like crazy, she wasn't seeing Keiran hovering over her. She was fine. Matt stayed still as he did his head tilt thing and it took her a moment to realise he was listening to her heartbeat to check if she was okay or not. It was kind of creepy but she let it go.

He talked her through the steps of how to get out of that kind of hold. One at a time he'd tell her what to do and correct her if she got it wrong as they did a slow mo version one part at a time to ensure she knew each step. It was more complicated than the last one but after a few step by step tries she thought she had a good idea on what to do. Now it was time to get out of it for real.

"3, 2 ,1," he counted, preparing her somewhat so she didn't lose her shit like last time. This time he applied some pressure around her throat but it was still practically nothing. She felt his weight bearing down on her and she grabbed his right forearm with her left and then used her right hand to grip his left shoulder in a cross grip. Using her left foot, she pushed off his hip, pivoting her pelvis to the right so he was no longer directly above her. She hooked her right leg high up on his back, right under his armpit and she kept a firm grip on him as her left leg moved to wrap around his shoulder too, locking it onto her other. She grabbed his wrist, the one that was in her grip that was now at her mercy on her chest. She knew if she thrust her pelvis upwards sharply she would break his arm at his elbow.

It had happened so fast but she caught herself before completing the maneuver and felt pleased with herself. She let go of his arm and rolled them over so he was now under her. They were both panting and she laughed lightly, feeling good she actually did it. She was a little sweaty and she looked down at where he lay under her. His brow had a slight sheen to his and his hair was doing that thing where it went every which way. His eyes were wandering as he caught his breath with a grin. She wasn't the only one enjoying their session it seemed.

She felt his hands glide up her thighs that were around him and she'd be a liar if she said it didn't make her tingle. His unseeing eyes were burning into her, pupils blown wide. She went to move off him but he held her in place, only now she was hovering right in front of his face. One of his hands rested on the base of her neck and he pulled her down a little. She stayed still though and resisted as her lips were a breath away from his.

"We're not on the same page, remember?" She teased him, enjoying seeing him this worked up. She squeaked when her back hit the mat when he rolled them over quickly. She hadn't expected it.

"I'm over it," he smirked devilishly at her before his lips collided with hers.

She should have really stopped to think about it. To assess the validity of his words. But sex with Matt was something else and it made her feel amazing. All her stress and worries melted away last time. And although she knew going down that rabbit hole wasn't good with her past of sometimes becoming dependant on sex for her own mental well being, she couldn't really help herself. She blamed Matt for being insufferable and ridiculously attractive. The kiss was rough and demanding and she gave into him, moaning as he pushed himself against her through the thin fabric of their pants. He knelt up, tugging at his vest and lifting it over his head. Something dawned on her then.

"We're gonna do this here? What if someone walks in?" She snorted amused. She wasn’t one to shy away from sex in weird places but she didn't want some old dude walking in and getting a free show. He tossed his vest on the floor as he chuckled, jumping to his feet and climbing out the ring. She sat up, watching him curiously as he went and locked the door from the inside. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he prowled back to her though. The predatory grace he held, the way his sculpted body moved. In her needy and horny haze she found herself impatient for him to return and she felt like he was taking his time to tease her if his smirk was anything to go by. She pulled her shirt off and then her bra, tossing them in a heap beside them as Matt toed off his shoes.

He knelt back down then, his hands curling her ankles and yanking them lightly. Her back hit the mat with a light thud and she looked up at him shocked before laughing. With a wicked grin, he pulled her leggings and panties off together but painfully slow and her desire was increasing with every second he made her wait for it. She wouldn't beg though. She sat back up, tugging at his shorts and he bent down, kissing her roughly as she yanked them down with his boxers. She fisted him tightly and he moaned into her mouth, causing her to smirk into the kiss. Letting go, she pulled the shorts and boxers all the way off him before pushing him onto his back.

It was his turn to look mildly shocked and she climbed on top of him, her slick heat trapping his cock against his belly. His eyes were darting around her face and she leant forward, catching his lower lip with her teeth. He let out a long groan, arching up at her as she tugged it before letting it go with a pop. She sat up, pushing up on her knees before she gripped him and lined herself up. Without a word she sank down onto him and the pair moaned in relief. It was instant for her, that feeling of him filling her up like that. Knowing her release would come soon. She rested her hands on his firm chest for leverage as she started moving her hips. His hands felt like they were all over her body at once. Not soft or sweet, but firm and demanding and he took in every detail of her body.

The gym was filled with moans and gasps as she rode him hard, her anger at his behaviour and the thrill of fighting with him fuelling her pleasure. She almost found it ironic that they were fucking in a boxing ring with how often they fought. He pulled her down roughly, lips smashing against hers as he ravaged her mouth. She felt that euphoric feeling getting closer, her whole body tingling in anticipation. She got faster and harder, chasing the release she was after like her life depended on it.

"Don't stop," Matt groaned against her lips, one hand gripping the back of her neck while the other was on her ass, fingers digging into her flesh. She had no plan on stopping though. Not when she was this close. She kept up the pace and then she moaned loudly, her body tensing lightly as she clamped down around him.

He let out the hottest fucking noise she’d ever heard a human make and it only heightened her own pleasure as she rode the waves of her orgasm. He was clinging onto her tightly, rutting up into her as he panted and then groaned, spilling himself inside of her. He relaxed instantly. Hands falling to his sides. She sat there on top of him as she tried to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair had started falling out of her ponytail. She was thoroughly fucked and in the best way. That beautiful feeling was coursing through her veins as she let the hormones and endorphins flow though her.

She climbed off him carefully before standing up and stretching.

"I'm gonna hit the shower," she hummed sounding blissful as she scooped up her clothes. She walked completely naked to the showers and got herself cleaned up and presentable. She didn't regret it, it was amazing and she felt good now. And from the sounds he made, he enjoyed himself too. She just hoped he meant it when he said they were on the same page.

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

Matt stood in his own shower in the men’s changing rooms as he let the cold water pelt him. His brain was a fried mess and he leaned against the cool tiles as he tried to just think clearly. He wasn't sure why he'd done it again, not after last time. He couldn’t really say what had bothered him about the fact she left last time. He'd gotten out of the shower and went to his room and she was just gone. No words, no note, nothing. He knew it had been purely physical, they could barely tolerate each other. He wasn't stupid enough to think too deeply into it. Yet it left him feeling strangely hollow when she’d just left him like that.

And then when he had turned up to work, Foggy had been acting weird. After some pressure he'd told Matt about his conversation with Daphne. Matt was pretty sure he hadn't gotten the whole story from him but the gist of her saying it was just sex was clear. And he'd told Foggy she was right. It was a one time thing because of all their pent up anger and the adrenaline from the night they'd had. He told his best friend to stop thinking about it. Yet he hadn't been able to do the same. He'd ended up texting her using Foggy's phone to see if she would be home and then he went to see her. No rhyme or reason or idea why he was going there. All he knew was that it bothered him.

It wasn't like he’d never had casual sex before, although he couldn't say it happened much the last few years. And his inability to understand why he was feeling the way he was led to them fighting again. Because she was right. But he hadn't been able to let it go. So when he left, he told himself it wouldn't happen again. She was trouble and being around her wore him out. It wasn't worth it. So how did he end up here again? Oh that's right, apparently he'd turned into a horny teenager again. A bit of sparring, feeling her body against his and sensing how happy she was in the ring really fucked his hormones over. And now here he was again. Only this time it was his own fault. She’d actually turned him down and he'd been the one to push. He couldn't say he regretted it either. It was the best damn sex he’d ever had and it left him feeling more chilled out than he felt in a long time. He'd keep his mouth shut this time and not act like a teenage girl about it. He dug himself into this hole and now he had to climb his own way out.

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

Daphne towel dried her hair as much as she could and it left it wavy. She scooped it up in a messy bun on top of her head, a few stands framing her face. The euphoric feeling she got after sex was easing but she still felt calm and settled. It was nice, she didn't get to experience it that much anymore. She really didn't want to have to face Matt, not knowing if he'd throw a tantrum like last time. She didn't want him to read into it again or act all weird about it. It really killed the vibe and ruined her good mood. She'd tried to stop it from happening, not wanting to deal with that again, but she hadn't been able to help herself when he'd wanted her so clearly. There was something addictive about it. But now she felt dread settle into her bones as she thought about how he would react.

She took her sweet time getting dried and dressed simply to buy herself some time. But eventually she was done and she had to leave the changing room. As she walked out into the main part of the gym, Matt was sitting on the bench tying his laces.

"Ready?" He asked softly. No awkward questions, no anger in his voice. Maybe he was on the same page now after all. She felt relief sweep through her, allowing her to enjoy the calmness that she'd been left with after their time together.

"Yeah," she replied, grabbing her backpack and putting it over her shoulder.

Matt grabbed his cane where it was leaning against the wall. He was now wearing a hoodie too and he grabbed his glasses out of the pocket as he slid them onto his face. She wondered if he ever got sick of having to act blind. He was blind but not like the average blind person. He didn't really need the stick and she'd seen him 'bumping' into things like he hadn't known they were there before. When they stepped out into the sunshine, she winced and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Jesus christ! I think I've joined the blind club," she grumbled, rubbing her poor eyes. The sun just burnt the shit out of her retinas. He let out a surprised laugh, the door shutting behind them.

"Here," he grinned. She cracked a wary eye open, seeing him holding out his glasses to her, but she didn't take them.

"It's not like I need them,” he teased. It helped. She felt a little better. She slid them onto her face and her eyeballs thanked her immediately. They started walking down the street together and she glanced into a window as they walked by, looking at her reflection. She snorted at herself. Her hair, despite being recently washed and put up, was a wavy mess. Her cheeks were still rosy pink and the glasses looked weird on her face.

"They suit you," he mused playfully. She shoved him lightly, causing him to laugh when an older woman gasped at her actions.

"Assaulting a blind man in public? It's like you want to get arrested," he smirked.

"Yeah well, Foggy will be my lawyer so I'll be good," she quipped back with a grin. Now they were on the same page they seemed to be amicable after venting their frustration on each other.

"You really think my best friend would take your side over mine?" He asked, faking being hurt as he held his hand over his heart. She stopped walking and he did the same as she looked at him.

"I hate to say it but I think he prefers me now. Not that I can blame him. You are a bit of an asshole," she grinned mischievously. He gaped at her before his hand darted out and went to grab the glasses. She squeaked, holding them in place as he tried to steal them from her face.

"You don't deserve my glasses," he snorted.

"Come on! I need my eyes, I'm not like you!" She whined pitifully.

"And what's this?! My two favourite people, getting along nicely? Is the world ending?" A dramatic voice sounded from next to them. Both she and Matt stilled completely in a comical way before they took a step away from each other. Both of them looked caught out as they looked at a very smug Foggy.

"This is great! Better than great! I love this," he beamed like a kid on Christmas. Daphne groaned and glared at him from the glasses still perched on her face.

"Foggy, I swear! You want us to not kill each other when we're in the same room? Don't make a big deal about it when it happens," she huffed.

"It is a big deal. You're both laughing and smiling together. This is huge. It's like a rare solar event or something," he defended.

She resisted the urge to throttle him as Matt rubbed his temples.

"Foggy," Matt warned lightly.

"Okay! I get it, I'm making it weird. This whole thing is new to you both and I'm just making it awkward," he soothed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"There is no 'thing'. We can't just actually have a moment where we get on with each other before you start trying to marry us off again?" She whined.

"Marry us off? What?" Matt asked quickly, his head whipping to his friend. She snorted as Foggy's cheeks went a little pink and he shot her a glare

"Oh, he didn't tell you he's the captain of ship Maphne?" She laughed loudly. She didn't care if Matt knew. It was ridiculous to her and she was getting payback on Foggy for being a little shit.

"Maphne? Do I even wanna know?" Matt asked exasperated. Foggy shot her another look before standing up straighter.

"You know what, Daph, mock me all you want but this is the hill I'm choosing to die on," he pointed at her. Matt still stood there unsure of what they were even talking about. She opened her mouth for another retort that would no doubt embarrass Foggy further and also maybe make Matt uncomfortable which was a bonus, but Foggy beat her to it.

"Anyway! I'm glad I caught you two, I have great news!" He beamed excitedly. She quirked her brows perplexed as he led them to a table outside of the cafe nearby. The three of them sat around it, Matt and Daphne watching their friend expectantly.

"I finally asked Karen on a date!" He practically squealed. A splitting grin graced Daphne's face, unable not to be happy for him. During their many talks, he'd spoken about his feelings for the blonde and Daphne had always told him to go for it.

"Aw, Foggy! You're growing up, I'm so proud!" She cooed, reaching over and pinching his cheek. He was so happy he just let her.

"That's awesome, man. I'm happy for you," Matt smiled sincerely.

"I know, it's great right? I just finally bit the bullet. I just decided I need to stop being such a baby about it," he explained. He had a weird look on his face though, the same one that usually told her something going on.

"What is it?" Both she and Matt asked at the same time, him clearly picking up on Foggy's weirdness in his own way.

Foggy raised a brow at them both being in sync and she made a point to not even look at Matt so Foggy wouldn't go off on his Maphne tirade again.

"Well… I just… I panicked, okay? I set it all up and she knew I wanted to ask her something. But then I'm like, what if she says no? I mean it's just gonna be me and Karen. Alone. On a date," he uttered looking like a deer in the headlights.

"That's kinda the point, Foggy," Matt teased.

"I know it is. And I couldn't back out because she was just watching me, waiting for what I wanted to ask. I honestly felt like I was about to have a heart attack and I may have asked her on a date but told her it was a double date with you guys," he blurted, barely taking a breath as he did.

Daphne blinked at him for a moment as her brain tried to digest his words.

"You did what?" Matt asked incredulously. Foggy made a pitiful noise and she took Matt’s glasses off and set them in the middle of the table, giving Foggy a look.

"A double date? Implying that me and Matt are actually also going to be on a date. Do you see the flaw in that plan?" She asked slowly, like she was talking to a child about why playing with matches was bad.

"I know! Like I said, I panicked and that's just the first thing that came out of my mouth!" Foggy defended with a sigh.

"And Karen actually bought that?" Matt scoffed, gesturing with his hand to him and then Daphne.

"You're kidding right? She's all aboard this ship, she was actually excited about it," Foggy smirked. She kicked him under the table and he groaned. Matt's jaw ticked as he glared in his best friend's direction.

"This isn't a joke, Fogg. All the shit you give me for keeping my secret from her and you're just lying right to her face about this?" Matt frowned.

"That's completely different. Your secret is dangerous. This one isn't. For all she knows it's your first date too and after that it just didn't work out. Besides, it's not like you're not getting it on with each other, would it really be that hard to just pretend to be on one date?" He pleaded, looking from her to Matt.

"Yes," they both answered again.

"Please? I really need this. If I tell her you're not going she might cancel too. You two are like a buffer, help set the scene and put her at ease. I really like her, guys. I don't want to mess things up," he begged.

"Foggy-" Matt started sternly, only to be cut off by Daphne.

"Fine. But you're paying for dinner," she relented.

Foggy smiled the widest grin she'd ever seen on a human and Matt turned to glare at her.

"You've got to be kidding me," he scoffed incredulously.

"What? Didn't you hear him? He's our friend, Matt. Let's just do this for him. Besides, free dinner," she shrugged. Matt looked pissed and honestly it was a reward she hadn't expected. She'd almost forgotten how nice it felt to push his buttons.

"This is ridiculous. You really think she's not gonna notice we can't stand each other once she's sat at a table with us for a while?" Matt glowered. He had a point but they could just try to be civil for Foggy's sake.

"You know what, Matt, I really hate to play this card but you left me no choice. You lied to me for the longest time and now I have to keep your secret. I already have to start a potential relationship with lies for you. Can't you just do this one thing for me? I never ask you for anything," Foggy muttered with a frown.

A sly grin spread on her face at how underhand it was of Foggy. She almost felt like a proud parent as she watched a million emotions pass over Matt's face before defeat was all that was left.

"Fine. But don't say I didn't want you when this all blows up in your face. And you're paying for my dinner too," he huffed. Foggy looked more than pleased with himself.

"Thank you! You guys are awesome. I'll even pay for your drinks if you actually try and act like you like each other and not make it awkward," he shot them both a toothy grin.

"Hey, let me drink as much as I want and I'll make it really look like we're on a date," she smirked devilishly, a wiggle of her eyebrows and Foggy burst out laughing.

"Jesus christ," Matt muttered quietly with a shake of his head.

"Deal," Foggy nodded firmly, "tonight at 8. It's the Mexican place near the firm," he instructed before he stood.

"Alright. I'm heading out, you coming with, Matt?" He asked, shooting his annoyed friend a look.

"Yeah. You go on, I'll catch up in a sec," he bit out. Foggy gave her a look and a smirk before he started walking away.

"Really?" Matt glared at her, swiping his glasses from the table and shoving them onto his face.

"What? Free food and as much booze as we want? Plus doing your best friend a solid? I know you're an asshole, Matt, but I thought you weren't that much of an asshole," she quipped dryly. He clamped his mouth shut, jaw tense as he pursed his lips.

"Fine," he stood up abruptly, gripping his cane before holding it in front of him.

"You're doing this for Foggy. Don't fuck it up for him just because you've got a stick up your ass," she huffed as she stood up too.

He shot her what she presumed was a dirty look behind his glasses before he started walking away, his cane swinging in front of him. His irritation about the situation only made her want to do it more. It was his own fault really for acting like such a bitch about the whole thing. He was asking for her to make it worse for him. She started walking home as a plan formed in her mind. She'd get nice food and decent booze and she'd get to piss Matt off in a setting he had to behave in. She was actually looking forward to it.

As soon as she got home, she called their firm, knowing Karen would be the one to answer.

"Nelson and Murdock, Karen speaking," came the voice down the phone. Daphne trapped the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she tugged off her hoodie and tossed it in the laundry basket.

"Hey Karen, it's Daphne," she said casually.

"Oh! Hi!" She sounded genuinely happy to speak to her and she wondered why she'd never bothered to speak to Karen more since she was so close to Foggy and Matt.

"I know this is weird, we haven't really spoken much. But I wanted to ask a favour since we're going on a double date," she said carefully, flopping onto her sofa.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Don't tell the guys, it's kind of weird for me. It's just… this is mine and Matt's first date too and it's been so long. I was wondering if you'd help me get ready for the date? I wanna look really good. I mean I know he can't really see, but he just somehow knows these things, right?" She grinned, cringing at how hard she was going at this. She felt a tiny bit bad at lying to her but she ignored it.

"Of course! I'd… I'd really love that. I'm nervous too and it'd be good to just have some girl time," Karen said softly.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this. We could go to the restaurant together when we're done," Daphne smiled pleased with herself. After exchanging cell numbers and goodbyes, Daphne sat back on the couch with a smirk. She wanted to turn heads. Not only just to irritate Matt, using her knowledge of him finding her physically attractive against him, but it had been a while since she went out. Usually she did so with a goal in mind, to have sex. And she would turn heads, a lot of them. Tonight was different but it didn't mean her ego wouldn't enjoy being looked at. It certainly would be interesting.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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ingeniouscollectionthing · 5 years ago

Text

He noticed (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Request: Could you write something for Tom where his reader best friend (who he's in love with) has a very dark and hurtful past and tends to isolate and disappear sometimes to cope with it. She also gets really insecure and feels unloved and he kind of spies on her for a while till he finds out the truth and makes her feel better? :)

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Warnings: Depression, insecureness, a bit sad but fluffy

It was one of those days. Your head too heavy, goosebumps constantly prickling your skin. Voices in your ears. Pictures in your head. Frown etched onto your pale face. It was one of those days. Dark clouds hanging in the sky, icy wind waving through sad trees. Thick, angry raindrops splattering against the castle walls.

You’re useless.

You’re a burden.

You’re a disgrace.

Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands, the breakfast in front of you not looking appealing anymore. Pain, similar to the buzzing and cracking of a broken record player, filled it, caused by the resounding words of your despicable mother.

You’re ugly.

You’re a noone.

You’re worthless.

No one can love you…

Lost in the dark forest that is your mind, you didn’t notice how your best friend sat down directly beside you. You didn’t notice that he watched you for a few good minutes. You didn’t notice how the seemingly emotionless Tom Riddle felt an, for him indescribable, feeling of dread and sadness, watching as you pulled hard on the tussled tresses of your hair, which has lost its shine a few weeks ago. As you finally realized he was here, you gave him a weak smile.

Tom noticed that it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Good morning, Tom”, you said, turning back to your still full plate. “Did you sleep well?”

“Of course. Did you?”, he asked back, watching you closely.

“The best I’ve slept in days, really”. You hadn’t slept in days. And if you could fall asleep, nightmares plagued your mind, not stopping until your eyes opened and starred coldly at the ceiling – again. Tom narrowed his eyes and for a second you thought he believed you, as he finally turned to his plate to fill it with food. He didn’t notice you lied.

But in fact, he did. He noticed.

You both talked a little bit until the bell rang, signalling the start of your first lesson.

“Are you coming?”, Tom asked, his things neatly packed into his bag, his hand waiting to be taken by yours.

You refused.

“You can go, I’ll catch you up, don’t worry”, you said silently, never meeting his eyes.

Tom frowned, but didn’t pressure you. You’ll catch up.

As he finally sat down in class, he waited patiently for the seat next to him to be filled with your presence. Instead, a strange smell reached his nose, as another girl sat down by his side, trying to talk to him. He ignored her. You weren’t here.

And he noticed. Why wouldn’t he?

Meanwhile, you wandered around the castle slowly. Your stomach was empty, your heart was numb. As always your feet brought you to the room of requirement, your safe haven. You sat down by the windowsill.

You starred out of the window and imagined how the seasons would pass by. The birch, which branches protruded over the window, was still bearing green leaves, soon colder air would make them turn into different colours, before they would finally disappear completely. The Wood of the floor made a creaking sound as your feet completely left the ground to stretch your legs out on the dusted ledge. You blinked. Where did spring go?

Your thoughts were too loud. Too loud for your head - too quiet for this world to hear. You wanted to be happy, you wanted the world to make sense. But it didn't. Every day followed the next miserably. We were all exposed to the relentless noose of time, society, universe.

You still functioned. You noticed that. You know you didn’t do anything wrong, and yet you feel lost. Eternities shrank to seconds and suddenly, the future fell into your lap. Everything’s spinning, this time the swirl is not against you, but you let yourself get carried away, embraced it like an old friend and didn't think. That's it. Thoughts. It's the thoughts. You looked down at yourself. Touched your arm, your fingers. Your body was there, but where were you?

Your thoughts were like a cloud. It followed you and enveloped you. Clouded your vision, blackened your day. Sometimes it could be suppressed, but always returned.

“There you are”, a familiar voice said.

Tom.

“What are you doing here, Tom? You’ll miss your lesson”, your hands shook.

“I could ask you the same”, he merely replied, taking a seat beside you on the window sill.

It‘s scary. This matt, dull carpet of thoughts that removed all colours from life and turned off the sound of feelings.

“I noticed, you know”, Tom whispered, not daring to destroy the silence. You gave him a questioning look.

“I noticed, how you always lie about your wellbeing. About your sleep. I noticed, how your lips got chapped by biting them too much. I noticed, that your nails don’t grow anymore because you always bite on them out of habit. I noticed, that you got thinner, because you refuse to eat. I noticed, that your lovely eyes lost their spark. I noticed, how your hair lost its shine. I noticed, how you feel. However I don’t know why”.

Everyone has their limits.

If it is enough, then it is enough.

And if you can't do it anymore, you simply can't do it anymore.

And there it was, the moment bound to happen. You broke.

“They tear and they pull… but I'm not moving…it hurts! Do you understand?! I don’t think so.. I don’t understand… I defend myself until I can no longer stand! They,.. yes they…made me who I am…Not enough, don't you understand?! I am like this because of them! They made me like this… I think… I feel… And yet – and yet I'm not that what they want me to be. Not smart enough, traditional enough, elegant and womanly enough. Not good enough, not beautiful enough… shame of the family… They don't love me and yet, they still don't let me pull away! I want to go! stand on my own two feet! Live happily, but they won't let go. I need to sit down, behave myself… I’m their daughter… don't you understand?! I don’t! A girl of my family status.. I need to be proud and act as they want me to. Enough! It hurts! Everything’s full with pain and blood and they keep on doing this again and again and again…until there is nothing left”.

Cold hands engulfed your face, two soft thumbs wiped away the thick tears escaping your eyes. Tom was hurt. He felt the pain you felt deep in his chest, and yet an aura of anger trapped his heart in hatred for your family. For the first time since weeks, you met his eyes.

“You are enough, you always have been. No matter what your thoughts tell you, whispering in dark grey corners of your mind, in absent, bleak moments – you're not alone. Everyone wonders at some point. If you are enough. If there is enough, if you get enough. We all think about it. But I want to tell you - for me you are enough. You give me so many things you don't think you have enough of. Happiness. And love. You are enough with all your pearl-clear tears that you shed in fear, you are enough with your strange sense of humour that fits so strangely to mine. I'm just me. And you’re you. You do everything humanly possible to show me that I am enough, yet you are the one still fearing you are not. Just enough. No more, no less. Could you imagine, if at some point we both thought we could no longer be enough for each other, if we both broke by silently screaming at not having the other one, what then?”

A tear left his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes. Because of you.

“Enough is all I need and want from you.”, his voice cracked.

“Your closeness, which has become as vital to me as the air I breath, and you being by my side, the ground under my feet and my light in the dark – only you, are like a fire that burns – that burns brightly, so I can warm myself. And yet you are still worried about what it would do to yourself. Even if you don’t have to be. Merlin (Y/N), could a tragedy be more beautiful? Let me ask you – if you wouldn’t be enough and if I wouldn’t be enough, would we both stick to watching the other pitifully as we lost ourselves and each other? God, that would be a terrible feeling - believe it – then your own existence would be inferior. Your heart, young and beating strongly, is longingly and desperately looking for a response and recognition. And while I respond to you, while I recognize you for who you are, isn't it about being enough for yourself first? I recognize your value in this world, I accept the value you hold for me. So why can’t you?”.

Cold lips met yours. Gently, slowly, moving in a soft rhythm. Arms engulfed you and warmth spread throughout your body, taking the goosebumps and shivering away. And for the first time since forever, you felt home.

And all, because he noticed.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle fluff #voldemort #voldemort x reader #young voldemort x reader #lord voldemord #young voldemort #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader

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ambientstars · 4 years ago

Note

I’m so excited for part 2 I know its going to be amazing 🤩

Gif credit: unknown

Note: this one got away from me so it’s much longer than my usual fics, I hope you all don’t mind. Anyway, here I am exposing myself again. Will I ever learn? *sigh*. Enjoy!

Warnings: angst, spanking, semi public shenanigans? (Risk of being caught), praise kink and an embarrassing attempt at putting a storyline around it.

- - -

“Doctor, please!” You begged, following him around the console like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry!”

He sighed deeply through his nose, his eyes watching the ground he walked on. “You went off with her. You left me standing there like an idiot and ran off with her of all people.”

He didn’t once raise his voice despite his frustration and hurt, his tone calm although sadness poured through it like a tsunami of heartbreak.

Your chest tightened at the thought of hurting him, abandoning him on a far off planet because you were too caught up in The Master’s touch.

You had just stumbled through the TARDIS doors, days after you had left the club, your hair messy and unbrushed, your clothes too flashy for daytime and creased from being crumpled on The Master’s bedroom floor for so long, your skin marked with bruises of varying colours in the shape of your lover’s mouth.

It hadn’t been your intention to stay away for so long, or to go away at all, but The Master had a way of creating a blissful bubble where time and rational thoughts didn’t exist. You’d spent the entire time under her, wrapped around her or trailing after her much like you were doing now with The Doctor.

In the end she had forced you to leave, claiming that she had things to do that weren’t meant to be seen by such pretty eyes and you did as you were told, although reluctantly and with an over exaggerated whine.

“I was so worried about you.” The Doctor mumbled, flicking a switch on the control panel, avoiding eye contact with you.

An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine. It felt a lot like regret. You hadn’t thought about how he must’ve been feeling, watching you fall into his best enemy’s timeship, your lips attached to hers.

“I was fine,” you whispered back, ashamed of your behaviour, willing the TARDIS floor to swallow you up and eject you somewhere where you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. “She wouldn’t hurt me.”

He scoffed. “Doesn’t look that way.”

He referred to the bruises that littered your exposed skin, seeing them as sign of abuse instead of what they really were - evidence of tender kisses, playful biting, accidentally grabbing too tightly whilst blinded by pleasure and marking to show the world that you were hers.

“It’s not like that.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, his wide and watery. “I was worried that you wouldn’t come back.”

You couldn’t even defend yourself, your shame and betrayal laid heavy on your heart, weighing you down and making it harder and harder to fight your corner with every passing second.

You’d done wrong, broken his trust and now you’d have to suffer through the consequences. Of course he would force a friendly smile on his youthful face each day as you continued to travel together, but you knew that it would be a long time before he could trust you again. You knew that he would be hesitant when reaching for your hand from now on, questioning his own actions and what he had done to drive you away into the arms of the woman he loved to hate.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, every other word in your vocabulary failing you, your mouth full of apologies yet to be released.

- -

You watched silently as The Doctor tinkered with the mechanics of the TARDIS console, his ridiculous round goggles perched at his hairline, leaving circular dents in his forehead.

It had been a week since you returned from your impromptu getaway and things were still just as awkward as they were on the first day. The Doctor spent most of his time in his room, creating loud commotions well into the early hours of the morning, keeping himself busy and distracted, never taking a moment to breathe and allow his thoughts to overcome him.

You hadn’t been on any trips out since your return either, The Doctor stating that the timeship needed some repairs and therefore you were aimlessly drifting through space until he had ‘fixed’ her.

You were bored to say the least. The Doctor was ignoring you for the most part and you’d exhausted every activity on the TARDIS that took your fancy, now you spent your days just hanging around the timelord who didn’t really want you in his presence, just hoping for something to happen.

“Psst!”

Your head snapped up at the sound, your ears focusing. You looked around, your eyes landing on The Master in the doorway of a corridor blocked from The Doctor’s view.

You knew your face must’ve been quite the picture, you could feel different parts of it moving in different directions in your confusion.

She smirked and called you over with the come here motion of her finger. As if you had no control over your body anymore, you immediately walked over, careful not to catch the attention of The Doctor.

“Hello darling,” The Master greeted you as you approached her, her hand landing on your waist and pulling you in so that you were flush against her. “Miss me?”

You felt heat rise in your face, your head falling forward to hide your blush as you nodded. “Always.”

“Good.” She lifted your head with a finger under your chin, the playful glint in her eyes shining under the lights of the corridor. “I missed you.”

Your stomach fluttered, your lip sucked in between your teeth. It felt nice to be missed by The Master. Having someone so powerful and well known missing someone so plain and insignificant as you was heartwarming.

“How is he?” She was referring to The Doctor, her eyes momentarily flickering behind you to check that you were still alone.

You shrugged, a frown forcing its way onto your face. “He’s mad at me.”

The Master snorted a laugh, leaning against the wall, her arms folded over her chest. “I think he’s jealous.”

“Jealous?”

She made a sound of agreement, her eyes raking up and down your frame. “These look so pretty on you.”

Your eyes fell to where she was looking, seeing the scattered love bites across you. Memories of how her mouth had felt against your heated skin, wet and warm, sucking and biting over and over, moving her soft lips from the edge of your jaw to the inside of your thighs.

“You’re blushing.”

You shook your head, desperate not to embarrass yourself. “What are you doing here.”

She pulled you in close again, hips pressed together, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I came to bring home what is mine.”

“You what?”

It hadn’t occurred to you that your time spent with her might not have just been a one off. You had assumed that because she had sent you back to The Doctor, your time together was over and you wouldn’t see her again.

You couldn’t deny to yourself that it left a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you walked away from her, your feet desperate to turn and run back to bring you right back into her arms. It didn’t feel good, but you told yourself it was probably for the best, given your history with her.

“Don’t play dumb, love.” She twisted a strand of your hair around her finger, watching it as it uncoiled effortlessly. “You’re a smart girl.”

You almost missed the compliment, too confused about what was happening. “I thought that was the last time I’d see you.”

“Well then you thought wrong.” Her nonchalance was something you had always admired. Nothing seemed to phase her and you could only wish to be like that instead of worrying about so much all the time. “Is that what you were hoping for?”

Immediately your head began to shake, your eyes wide. “No, never!”

The Master laughed lightly, amused by your reaction and knew she had you eating right out of the palm of her hand. “So come back with me.”

Her tone was casual, sounding like a simple offer, but you knew her well enough to know that’s not what it was. She was telling you, demanding gently, that you take her hand without question or objection and follow her back to her ship and spend the rest of your days there right by her side. Just like the first time.

“I can’t leave him. Not again.” You focused your eyes on the small golden detailing of The Master’s shirt collar, mumbling almost inaudibly, knowing that denying her of what she wanted wouldn’t end well for you. “It would break his heart.”

“Darling,” she moved her face in front of yours, the tips of your noses brushing against each other softly. She held the side of your face, stroking your cheek with her thumb so slowly, so lovingly, you almost forgot why you were saying no. “He has two hearts for a reason.”

You couldn’t protest, her lips catching yours in a slow, but short lived kiss that stole your breath. You leaned into the touch of her hand on your face, your eyes closed, your chest pounding, your mind blank.

“He’ll be fine. You’ll be replaced in no time.” She rested her forehead against yours, her whispered words soothing to your ears despite their unkind nature, her other hand cupping the other side of your face. “Come back with me.”

“I want to, but…” you sighed deeply, feeling conflicted. You owed it to The Doctor to stay with him and make amends, to prove to him that you meant your apology, to be the companion you promised to be when you first met. But you belonged to The Master, mind, body and soul. Every part of you reacted in her presence, vibrating with raw energy, her words were your commands that you so willingly obeyed, her touch igniting flames across your skin you so desperately craved.

“Don’t make me say it, sweetheart.” She kissed along your jaw, slow and calculated, earning a contented sigh.

“Master…”

Her lips moved down your neck, one hand holding your head as it fell back, the other encircling your waist to keep you pressed against her as much as physically possible. “I tried to play nice, remember that.”

“Master, no.” Your plea sounded pathetic, breathy and stuttered. She knew your weaknesses and she would use them against you to get what she wanted. You knew that as soon as she began to praise you, you’d crumble and give in to her wishes.

She pressed your back against the wall, leaving no space for you to move. “I’ll just have to try it another way then.”

She shrugged off her coat and slowly rolled up her shirt sleeves to her elbows, never breaking eye contact, her tongue slipping out to wet her lips.

As she sunk to her knees in front of you, your heart rate picked up to a dangerous speed, your breathing shallow and short, anticipation holding you firmly in your place.

“Keep still.”

She carefully lifted your leg and allowed it to rest comfortably on her shoulder, pressing a slow kiss to the inside of your thigh just above the knee, leaving the shape of her lips printed on your skin in red lipstick.

You shuddered, eyes falling closed and head leaning back against the wall. She trailed her soft kisses upwards, towards the hem of your shorts, blending the red of her lips with the bluey purples of the love bites covering you into a work of art and earning a heavy sigh from deep in your lungs.

“We can’t do this.”

She looked up at you through her long eyelashes, a playful smirk on her ever so slightly smudged lips. “And why is that?”

“The Doctor,” you breathed heavily, looking over towards the general direction of the console room. “He’s right in there.”

She laughed, slipping the tip of her finger under the edge of your shorts and running it along the sensitive skin. “You better stay quiet then.”

A gasp forced its way from your throat as she placed another kiss even higher, open mouthed and scorching hot.

She removed the obstructing garment from you at lightning speed, placing your leg back in its previous position on her shoulder before you could form another coherent thought.

The Master pulled at the side of your panties, revealing even more of you to her greedy eyes. She placed her lips onto the sensitive spot where your hip met your leg, gently sucking on the skin for a moment.

“Come back with me.”

You shook your head no, sliding your hand into her hair and pulling her head back towards you.

Her next move meant business, determined to change your mind, set on controlling you through your weaknesses.

“Well in that case,” in once smooth motion, The Master pulled you to the other side of the corridor and held you facing forward against the wall, her front pressed to your back. “I won’t stop until you say yes.”

From this angle you could see The Doctor, his back turned to you, his head down as he worked relentlessly under control panels. A chill ran down your spine at the thought of him turning around and catching you with The Master, her lips now attached to the side of your neck, her hands holding your hips against hers.

The Master’s hand slipped into the front of your panties, coaxing a moan from you with her fingers. “Always so ready.”

It gave you a thrill to know that with just one sound too loud, The Doctor would hear you and turn, catching you in the act. You knew it was wrong to get excited over such a thing, but with your eyes focused on him and The Master’s hand tenderly rubbing circles beneath the thin fabric that covered you, it was almost too much.

A sharp hot pain came across the cheek of your behind, stinging in its aftermath. “Pay attention, darling.”

The burn lingered, but the pain turned to pleasure, a whimper forcing its way out. She did it again, the tingling pleasure filled pain returning and creeping up your spine and down your legs, the echo of the slap masked by the loud electrical sparking in the other room caused by The Doctor, flashes of light emitting into the corridor.

“Oh,” The Master’s tone was curious, an unseen smile on her face. “You like that, don't you?”

You nodded your head yes, not trusting your own voice. She continued her playful assault between your legs, lightly biting into your shoulder, creating new marks to accompany the old ones.

The harsh coldness of the metal wall pressed to your front was a stark contrast to the heat built up in the rest of your body, The Master’s own body temperature adding to the fire mixed with ice, battling against each other.

Your head lulled back to rest on The Master’s shoulder, your breathing coming in pants, a heavy pressure forming in the pit of your stomach. Eventually it became an impossible task to stay quiet, moans and whimpers spilling out of you like someone had just opened the floodgates.

“I adore the sounds you make, love.” The Master’s whisper in your ear was like a wave of indescribable pleasure crashing into you, your knees buckling. “But if you keep it up, he will hear. Is that what you want?”

With the volume of your moans increasing and the risk of The Doctor hearing and catching you, the more exciting it was for you. You knew he’d be upset and your trust and friendship would be broken forever, but the gamble made your legs weak and the pressure in your stomach threaten to explode.

“Yes.”

The Master laughed, picking up the speed of her hand. “Of course you do. Such a dirty girl.”

You were nearing the cliff edge, your mind fuzzy and your fingers clutching onto the arm The Master had around you to keep you upright.

“Come back with me.”

You shook your head, eyes squeezed closed. “Master…”

She applied even more pressure to the tips of her fingers, changing her pattern to something entirely more pleasurable. “Come back with me.”

“Master, please.”

“What is it, love? What do you want?” Her lips brushed against the shell of your ear as she spoke slowly.

“Say it. Please.”

She hummed in amusement, the sound of it almost drowned out by a deep moan that escaped you. “How about we make a deal?”

If your eyes had been open, you would’ve been blinded by bliss, bright and white hot. It was hard to imagine the knot inside you would be able to get any tighter and very soon it would snap. “Anything.”

“Tell me you’ll come back with me and I’ll say it.”

The Master was always good at getting what she wanted and you had presented her with an opportunity to do so. You couldn’t deny her anymore. The way she made you feel, the way she knew your mind, body and soul better than you knew them yourself, the way she held you like you were made just for her and fit right in perfectly.

You’d miss The Doctor. The way he laughed his infectiously joyous laugh, his old eyes that held a billion sparkling stars and his kindness to all no matter what. He’d given you a home, given you adventure and by his side, you made a name for yourself as someone who helped save worlds and their species.

You would miss it all, but you couldn’t deny The Master of anything she asked, not anymore. You would still have thrilling adventures with her, but they wouldn’t be the same. Your reputation would be crushed and you’d spend your days creating havoc and chaos amongst the universe, but if it meant having her touch you and whisper to you the way she does, you’d do anything.

“I’ll come with you.” Your voice was weak, several octaves higher than your normal pitch and stuttered almost beyond recognition.

You felt her smile against your cheek, her hand squeezing your waist. She had won you over, just like you knew she would, just like always.

“Good girl.”

With that, you slumped forward, the hot pressure in your belly exploding and sending shockwaves through the rest of your body, a loud squeal erupting from your throat.

The sound echoed around the TARDIS and just as The Doctor’s head snapped up and began to turn in your direction, The Master pressed a button on the device strapped to her wrist and you vanished from your spot in the corridor, materialising on the soft sheets of her bed.

“Get comfortable, darling, we’ll be here for the rest of the day.”

Taglist: @another-doctor-who-blog @queerconfusionthings @crazylittlereader2474

#doctor who imagine #whittaker!master #jodie whittaker #doctor x reader #the master x reader #the master imagine #whittaker!master x reader #w!master

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pod-kozom · 3 years ago

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on plastic surgery

so I have discussed this topic today on a great scale but I still want to touch on it again.

Shaming people for plastic surgery.

while I do understand and am aware that we live in a cruel world that is literally putting so much pressure onto us when it comes to our physical appearance, so much that we starve ourselves into illness or literally get surgery to feel a little less shittier- and while I do understand that this is fundamentally wrong (the world) and desperately needs to change I am also not ignorant about the fact that we do live in this world that makes us feel shitty when we’re fat, when our noses are crooked, our lips are thin, our tits are small. I am not ignoring that being “pretty” by social standards gives me privileges, makes me get more jobs, makes me feel better about myself.

but what people can’t sell me is that shaming women for gettin stuff done, being mean to them, acting like they are at fault for trying to fit and meet beauty standards, saying they’re anti feminist- is helping the cause of dismantling and healing the traumas and insecurities the world gives us in any way and not actually further deepening them.

you can’t logically explain to me how it is the right way to make women feel stupid for trying to flee from being judged, for being made fun of, for being mocked by exactly doing this further and calling them insecure for it.

I am also done with everyone being angry at women for not saying they have had surgery ‘cause how can’t y’all see how people react to women getting surgery? and if they do tell, then they’re in the wrong for persuading other people to get surgery. when we are using the argument that the beauty standards set in place are making women insecure than why are we shaming the women who are just as much a victim to those standards and try to desperately fit into them?

I am also annoyed by how many people think that the only reason for plastic surgery is insecurity. why do you go to the hair dresser’s? why do you change your hair colour? get tattooes? piercings? why are you trying to lose just a little bit weight? if beauty standards or our appearances in general do not matter - why is shaving okay but getting lip fillers not? to what exent is trying to individually create oneself to how one sees fit, to how one feels more secure, more like their real selves, okay?

If we stop getting plastic surgery then by that logic we have to stop every action that is distancing us from our natural selves.

I also think that people who have the nerve, the audacity, to have an opinion on someone else’s appearance in general are the ones who are insecure. I find myself a very confident person and I could not give less fcks about how someone dresses, how much someone weighs, or if someone got huge fake tits.

I also don’t see the same people shaming women for plastic surgery trying to be self confident role models, to preach self love, to teach kids that they are fine the way they are and that they shouldn’t be judging other people based on their appearance either. I don’t see them going to university to study psyochology in order to help women with the insecurities this world puts on us and that are exactly being created by the behaviour of shaming people for their appearance in the first place. I see them judging.

you just can’t tell me that dismantling beauty standards and erasing insecurities is your concern ‘cause then you would give these women preach, you would give them love, acceptance. you would show them that you’re happy they’re happy - that if their now bigger tits, fuller lips are making a difference in their lives, making them feel a little less shitty about themselves, it does account to something. it does mean something. you would not do the exact same thing that got these women to not feel enough in the first place.

and while we’re trying to build self confidence and dismantle our insecurities, minimize them in the ways we are able to (through making our hair and putting on makeup or getting surgery or not doing any of those things but connect to our natural sides, our body hair, our imperfections) we can slowly heal and dismantle beauty standards and by that strenghten the idea of individualism, of loving who we are, of being secure with who that person is.

I am for plastic surgery and I myself have lip fillers but I for example don’t shave and I wear make up most of the time and sometimes I look like a bimbo and sometimes I don’t wear makeup and have greasy hair and go to work like that. But I would never once think that I have the right to judge someone else for what makes them feel good abt themselves. if you wanna be make up free, go girl, I am with you. and if you want to have a big ass and get a bbl, I am with you too. it is not my place to judge how you (re)create yourself. it is my place and my duty to help you feel good about how you choose to do it, though. because we’ve already been walking the other road for too long and we know exactly that it doesn’t lead to happiness or “crushing” beauty standards.

so to end this and summarize it, I think that shaming women for plastic surgery is deeply rooted in insecurity. I just don’t see how a secure person would think it okay to judge someone else based on their appearance, to see it their place to do so. and I wish that we would all focus on ourselves, dismantling our own insecurities in the way we see fit instead of putting this responsibility on other women by judging how they chose to do lessen theirs. and again, I am not ignorant about our world but being happier, feeling securer, more love towards ourselves as women in today’s society means something. it means something.

and no one in their right mind can tell me that that’s wrong.

#plastic surgery #women #feminism #beauty standards

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

Not Nineteen Forever (19) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: hi pals! so this was probs one of my top 3 fav chapters to write out of the whole fic. it’s got so many things that i just love, and i so hope u will love it too. i should probs make it clear that this isn’t the end of the fic! it’s going to have 21 chapters, so there’s two more to come after this (omg only 2????? bitch wtf???? WTF???). thank u guys for all the love my ask box gets flooded with after every chapter, i’m always so so excited when i see it so thank u so much, i really appreciate it!! here we go with n19f19 xoxo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: there were confessions of love in a karaoke bar.

this chapter: a month on from the events of last chapter and with final exams and dissertations looming, Brooke thinks she can avoid Vanessa until graduation without having to confront anything that’s happened between them. this proves difficult when she’s trapped in the library with her.

***

Brooke was fine. She was more than fine, actually, she was good. She was calm, serene, fucking zen. If it wasn’t for the dissertation she had to hand in a week from now she would have ascended to Buddha-like status, doling out study tips to her friends like proverbs.

Brooke had always been good at exams. She’d been a straight-A student back in Canada, the whole process of revision coming naturally to her. She’d bought designated ringbinders for every subject, poring over textbooks and copying information out in messy cursive until she’d filled her whole refill pad. When she’d walked into the big assembly hall on exam day, she didn’t get the usual churning of her stomach or shaky hands that her friends had always described. It was almost as if the hall reminded her of taking ballet exams when she was a girl- she knew what to do, she had all the information in her head somewhere, and all that was required of her was to think and write.

Essays, however, had never come easy, which was a shame as they essentially formed the basis of Brooke’s degree. There wasn’t the fast-paced element to essays as there were to exams, and lengthy deadlines gave Brooke time to overthink, redraft, panic, delete, then do the whole process over again. She’d never fully got the hang of them; add in the fact a different tutor marked what she’d written every time and her grades were practically a lottery. She knew this element would follow her throughout her career- writing, fashion design, God even her ballet exams from years ago- it was all a form of art, and art was subjective. She knew there were designers out there that were universally respected, but none were universally liked. Nothing was universally liked. In an exam, there was a set of right or wrong answers, but essays were open to interpretation. An interpretation that her degree classification depended on.

Stretching and feeling her spine bump against the hard plastic chair, Brooke let out a huge breath. She could still see her Mum’s face if she remembered hard enough, when she’d told her her very first mark on her very first uni assignment back in first year; the way the woman’s face had faltered a little but forced a smile and a congratulations. It was the first mark below 70% Brooke could remember in a long time, and her Mum’s disappointment still stung. Brooke was currently sitting on a 2:1, but only just. Her dissertation was going to cement what degree she received and Christ, Brooke would be lying if she said the pressure wasn’t getting to her ever so slightly. It was at the stage where she was taking a beta blocker each morning before spending most of the day in the library. Sometimes she’d take another in the afternoon if she felt herself starting to panic. Maybe that was the reason she was so chill.

Looking at her laptop and the block of black text against white digital paper, she rubbed her eyes and glanced through the huge floor-to-ceiling pane of glass to her left. Her own sleepy face gazed back at her, the view rendered invisible due to the pitch black outside. Brooke didn’t dare look at the time, but she knew it had to be late if it was this dark at the end of April. Casting her eyes to Nina, she couldn’t help but give a snort of a laugh.

“What the hell are you doing?” Brooke asked, looking at the exploded rainbow of colour-coded flash cards that were strewn across the girl’s desk and spilling out onto the floor. There were scribbly neon post-it notes stuck all over her laptop screen and Nina probably had half the library stacked up in high-rise tower blocks on her desk. A quick glance at her screen showed Brooke that Nina had roughly sixty tabs open.

“My goddamn best.”

Brooke let out another laugh as Nina gestured helplessly at the mess in front of her. “Jesus Christ, Brooke, how the hell am I going to be a teacher if I’m this disorganised?”

Brooke gave a little shrug and raised her eyebrows. “I dread to think what your classroom desk is going to be like.”

“Probably going to accidentally kill a child on my first day. Nudge over a big pile of papers on my desk, boof. Dead,” Nina giggled, then let out a huge laugh and instantly clamped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment. The action made Brooke laugh out loud too until the pair were having a silent laughing fit in the exact place they weren’t supposed to be making any noise.

To be fair, the top floor was pretty empty given the late hour they were there. The few people that were left were already packing up their things and leaving, laptops shut in a manner of resignation. The yellow strobe lights that hung above gave the whole place a clinical glow, and the patterns on the fuzzy green carpet all seemed to merge into one. As Brooke ran a hand through her hair and was about to check the time on her phone, loud chimes rang out over the speakers built into the ceiling.

“Would all students please be aware that the library will be closing in ten minutes, that’s ten minutes. Thank you.”

Brooke almost jumped out of her skin. She blinked, then looked at the four numbers in the bottom right-hand corner of her screen. “Nina. No way is it almost midnight.”

“God. I’m not even surprised anymore. At this point it feels like we live here,” Nina groaned, cracking her back in a way that made Brooke wince then rolling her shoulders. “I guess we should head back to the flat.”

Brooke’s ears pricked as she heard a commotion from the other end of the floor. It sounded like a thunder of footsteps and a hissed argument. Turning slowly, Brooke’s heart sank as she saw exactly who she’d hoped she’d be able to avoid until graduation day.

Silky and Vanessa were standing at the printer a mere two sets of desks away from her and Nina. Silky seemed to be printing something out and insisting she wouldn’t be long as Vanessa tapped her heel against the carpeted floor impatiently, her Converse almost wearing a hole in the floor. Despite the late hour her makeup was still perfectly applied, and her hair was half hanging loose over her shoulders and half swept up into a haphazard topknot. Brooke pictured Vanessa growing frustrated at her desk, fretting over some form of past paper and tearing her hands through her hair, tugging her brown locks up and securing them with a hair tie. Brooke hoped she wasn’t too stressed about her finals. She remembered that when they were together Vanessa had had some form of big essay due, and she’d sat up in bed exhaling and worrying, typing furiously with her long nails crashing against the keyboard of her laptop like angry waves. Brooke had quietly brought her tea, wordlessly pressed a kiss to her temple, and Vanessa had cast her a soft smile that had made Brooke’s heart set alight.

Just then Silky looked across the room, saw her, and began to wave. Fuck. Brooke watched as Vanessa cast her gaze over to where she sat. Her eyes widened when she laid them on Brooke and she tilted her head to the sky, barely hiding a gigantic roll of her eyes as she followed Silky over to Brooke and Nina. Brooke had in the time it took for the girls to reach their desk to decide how she wanted to play this. It was a tough decision. Because in the month-and-a-bit since their dalliance in the hot tub, and an even shorter time since her crying meltdown to Scarlet in the Swan toilets, Brooke had developed a hard, harsh exoskeleton for herself that involved channeling all the love and regret she felt for Vanessa into venom, poison and dislike. If Vanessa wanted to be petty and unkind and rude to her, then fuck it. Brooke would be the exact same back. She’d tried it out already- responding to thinly-veiled barbs in the groupchat, ignoring her if they saw each other. Brooke didn’t want to act that way, didn’t want to do any of it, but she forced herself to do it in the way a small child had to be forced to eat vegetables; it was what was good for her. Good for them both. It was better that Vanessa hated her. She’d tried loving her and look where the fuck that had ended up.

The issue was, the frosty behaviour she’d return to Vanessa was uncontrollable. She knew it was causing vibes and tension in the group, splitting them all up and causing cracks and fractures in a time where they were meant to be closer than ever. Yvie had had words with her, as had Nina. It hadn’t got them anywhere. Brooke had tried to reach out to Vanessa, offered her so many olive branches that Vanessa had just started beating Brooke black and blue with them. Brooke knew it was for the best if she acted like the complete bitch that Vanessa thought she was.

“Hey, sisters! What you both doin’ here so late?” Silky asked cheerfully as she reached the girls. Brooke stuck a smile on her face, tried not to look at Vanessa and then failed. Her thick eyelashes were cast to the floor as she scuffed the carpet with her shoe. Brooke felt a stab at her heart. Luckily, Nina took over.

“Christ, I was just saying to Brooke it feels like we’ve moved in here. My diss is due on Friday and I’m stressed out of my mind. What’re you guys up to?”

Silky waved a thick stack of paper at Nina as if she was showing her evidence. “We were down on floor one but the janitor’s chucking people out. I needed some readings and figured he’d get up here last, so I just came to the top floor to use the printer.”

“Yeah, and we’re done now, so let’s go. I need to pee before we leave,” Vanessa muttered to her flatmate, her voice dull as she still didn’t tear her gaze from the floor.

Nina’s cheerful smile faltered. Silky, to her credit, looked embarrassed by Vanessa’s sulky behaviour. To Brooke’s dismay, Nina shoved all of her index cards onto her laptop keyboard and slammed it closed. “Well, hey! We were just leaving. We’ll come with you.”

Vanessa’s face twisted into one of discomfort. “Nah, Nina, really, it’s fine. I’m gonna head to the bathroom anyway-”

“We can wait for you! It’s no big deal!”

Brooke’s heart sank. Great. An excruciating walk back outside with the girl that hated her most in the world. Just as she was about to bullshit a reason why they couldn’t, Silky enthusiastically agreed. Brooke watched Vanessa bite her lip in frustration, give a forced fake smile and nod. They were both united in the fact that it was a situation neither of them wanted to be in. It was the closest Brooke had felt to Vanessa in a while.

Nina and Silky filled the silence on their way to the library toilets. They were only beside the lifts so not that far away, but every step felt as if it lasted a million years. Finally, mercifully, the girls came to the toilets and Vanessa ducked inside. As they waited, Brooke just wished and hoped she’d be quick so the awkward situation would be over sooner rather than later. One minute turned into two, and Silky became impatient. Brooke watched as she wrenched open the door and yelled inside.

“VANJ, C’MON! THE PLACE IS CLOSING SOON!” she shouted into the room, muttering under her breath something about Vanessa having a bladder like the Hindenburg. Brooke tried to be patient and cast her eyes up to the ceiling. Looking back into the floor of the library, she was alarmed to find it completely empty, void of people. It could have been that she was startled, but she gave a shout into the bathroom too.

“Vanjie, hurry up! Jesus!”

At this point Vanessa was standing blasting her hands with air from the dryer. She shouted something back at Brooke that Brooke couldn’t hear over the air jets, but she could hazard a guess as to what it was. Finally, Vanessa stormed out.

“Fuck me, will you girls hop off my dick? Can I not pee in peace without you rushing me along? We’ve got ages! It’s fine!”

And then everything was suddenly plunged into darkness.

Brooke gave an involuntary cry of fear, felt someone grab her hand. Looking down at her interlocked fingers and then up to who it was connected to, she was shocked to see Vanessa, her face illuminated in the green fire escape sign and completely petrified. All at once she seemed to realise what she’d done and dropped Brooke’s hand like it was made of hot metal. Nina had fallen silent, her expression one of shock, and Silky was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Fuck,” Brooke found herself saying. Her mouth had gone completely dry.

“It’s fine. It’s fine, they’ll just be turning off the lights before they lock up. Let’s just hurry up and get the lift,” Silky reassured them, but Brooke didn’t miss the worried frown that was set on her face as the four of them walked quickly. Vanessa reached the button first, scrabbled at it with her fingers. The little white light that usually illuminated the panel didn’t turn on.

“Oh my God this can’t be happening,” Nina whispered, her voice panicked and fast. Silky rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but the frown on her face was deepening. Reaching out, she pressed the same button firmly, jamming it into its little metal pad. Nothing. The girls stood in silence for only a few seconds, listening for the metal whirrs and clunks that the lift usually made on its way up or down the building. Nothing came.

“Stairs,” Vanessa said simply, her voice full of worry as she suddenly dashed in the direction of the stairwell. The three other girls followed and all pretence of remaining calm and walking was truly out the window as their trainers squeaked over the linoleum, feet thumping harshly against the steps as they tore down flight after flight. Brooke’s pulse was speeding so fast she thought she would have a heart attack, and the bones of her feet began to hurt more with every step she launched herself down two-at-a-time. Breathless and frantic, they finally reached the bottom floor, Vanessa crashing through the double doors at the bottom of the stairwell and speeding across the lobby to the main entrance. Brooke was hot on her heels, her heart now painful in her chest and her breath coming in thick, uncomfortable wheezes. Any hope she’d had sank to the floor with her gut as Vanessa pounded the automatic doors and almost wrenched the fire door off its hinges in an attempt to get out. It was to no avail.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Nina repeated, her hands flying to her face as it blanched in fear.

“Fucking shit- HELLO? HELLO? WE’RE STILL IN HERE!” Silky yelled at the top of her lungs to nobody in particular.

“Guys, I don’t like this,” Brooke said, hearing the shake in her own voice as her eyes darted around the huge, dark building frantically.

“No shit, really? I’m having a fuckin’ whale of a time, personally,” Vanessa hissed, casting a glare her way before going back to shaking the doorhandles in a futile attempt to open them. Brooke felt her face curl up in a sneer, all the fear she’d felt previously moved into a convenient little box and replaced with all-consuming anger.

“Ugh, JESUS, Vanessa, of course, of fucking course, we’re literally locked in a uni building with no way out and you choose to start picking a fight with me. Big fucking-”

“ENOUGH!” Nina shouted, Brooke taken aback. She had known Nina for almost three years now, and in that time she’d never heard her shout. Well, she’d heard her shout with happiness or joy or fear, but never anger like this. She felt like one of her primary school kids as Nina continued. “Both of you just shut the fuck up for one fucking minute! Can we at least just find a way out of here before you start a fucking domestic?”

“I’ll take the cafe,” Silky said decisively, shouting to the others as she ran in the opposite direction. “Nina go right, Brooke and Vanjie go left.”

Brooke narrowed her eyes, looking again at Vanessa whose gaze mirrored Brooke’s. Relenting and not wanting to risk another telling-off from Nina, Brooke obediently tore off in the direction Silky had told her to go. She weaved her way through desks and bookshelves, checking every window only to find them all locked. As she was losing hope, the dull, green light of a fire escape sign caught her eye. Brooke sighed with relief as she tore towards it. This was surely a guaranteed way out. Reaching the tall door, Brooke slammed her hands on the cold, metal bar that lay across it, pushed down, and waited for the cold night air to hit her face and calm down her panic.

Nothing.

Brooke frowned, trying again and pushing harder at the bar. This time she got her shoulder involved, leaning all her weight against it. It didn’t so much as budge.

“We’re outta luck. They’re all locked from the outside.”

Brooke turned to see Vanessa walking purposefully towards her. Her tone was frustrated, but not towards her at least. Brooke felt relieved. She was beginning to regret snapping at Vanessa earlier, even if she was meant to dislike her. She wondered if she felt as scared as she did. Brooke thought about how Vanessa always hid her fear, remembered the time they watched some shit, gory horror movie at hers when they were together. Brooke had flinched and squealed and buried her face in Vanessa’s hoodie every two seconds while Vanessa had laughed at her, told her it was all fine and fake, but Brooke could feel Vanessa’s heart beat fast in her chest and her stomach muscles tensing every time a new horrific sight appeared on screen.

Vanessa leant against the bar that Brooke had tried, punctuating it with an angry kick of her foot. “That shit’s illegal, you know. Locking a fire door. We could sue fuck outta them.”

Brooke couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Yeah I’m sure we, twentysomething students with collectively hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of debt, have both the resources and the influence to sue the university. They’d shit themselves.”

She watched as Vanessa looked at her, a glare about to appear in her dark eyes, then disappearing as she allowed herself a small smile and a single snort of laughter. There was a pause of silence. Brooke decided to fill it. “Let’s find the girls, maybe they found a way out.”

As they passed by the floor-to-ceiling windows again, Vanessa suddenly gasped and tore off to bang on the glass. Brooke followed her eyeline and was overjoyed to find what looked to be a janitor, finishing up and walking away from the building. She joined Vanessa and pounded her fists against the window, shouting randomly if only just to make a noise. Her hope began to die, however, when instead of noticing the absolute cacophony of noise the girls created, the man simply got further and further away. Brooke watched as he got his phone out, a long earphone cord attached to it. She slumped against the glass and let out a helpless moan.

“Fucking shit bitch ass motherfucker!” Vanessa hissed in anger, pounding on the glass with her knuckles one last time. Brooke watched as she took a step back from the window, flexed her fingers and gave a hiss.

“You okay?” Brooke found herself asking. She could already feel herself frowning in concern as Vanessa nodded briskly, shaking her hand out and sticking the knuckle of one finger in her mouth.

“Fine. Just got a lil’ over-enthusiastic, cut my finger,” she spoke around her knuckle. Brooke felt a pang at her heart. She took a step towards Vanessa.

“Let’s see?”

Vanessa gave another laugh, harsher and more sardonic than her first had been. “It’s fine, Brooke, I don’t need you to kiss it better.”

Brooke held her hands up, unable to help the way her eyebrows flew up her face. “Okay, I’ll just go fuck myself!“

“Yeah, do that,” Vanessa muttered quietly, sitting on a desk beside the window and pulling her legs up to cross them. Brooke, in lieu of snapping back at the girl she’d once called her friend but had never called her girlfriend, did the same. They sat in a hostile silence, thoughts running around Brooke’s mind as to what she could do or say. So many options flooded her head that it was hard to see any of them clearly for what they were. It turned out she didn’t need to give any of them that much thought, however, as Nina and Silky soon appeared from the other end of the building.

“Oh, good! You’ve not killed each other,” Nina said brightly upon her return. Brooke snuck a quick look at Vanessa, then rolled her eyes.

“Guess you’re as shit out of luck as we are?” Silky asked, her voice quieter than usual by at least a few dozen decibels.

“Can you believe they locked the fire doors? Fuck them, man, imagine there was a real fire?” Vanessa spat bitterly. Nina sighed heavily and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“We could try calling someone?”

Brooke frowned. “Who could we call?”

“The police?” Nina said immediately, her naivety causing the others to burst out laughing.

“And say what?! Hey listen, we know you’ve got murderers to catch but we’re locked in a uni building, could you bring round a big battering ram and knock the door down?” Brooke laughed, not missing the way Vanessa laughed in response and feeling a twinkle of pride light up in her heart.

“Well, could the fire brigade get us out?” Nina suggested, Silky groaning and pulling her hands down her face.

“Nina, you need to lower your expectations of what an emergency is. Four dumb uni students trapped in the library is not gonna be considered an emergency. We’re not in danger, we’re all breathing, and none of us have been set alight. That counts the big three out immediately.”

“What about a locksmith?” Vanessa shrugged. Brooke screwed up her face.

“Ah, for those locks that automatic doors have on them,” Silky deadpanned. Brooke laughed at the comment, clearly a little too loudly because Vanessa was back scowling at her again.

“Hey, they do so have locks, bitch.”

“I don’t think you can ask a locksmith to open a house that isn’t yours,” Nina frowned. Brooke raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her.

“I love my house, the university library.”

“Shut up! You knew what I meant,” Nina protested, as the other girls gave a laugh again.

“Surely there’ll be some phone number online for the janitor or something?” Brooke thought suddenly, Silky quickly taking out her phone to check. There was a moment of silence as the girls held their breath in hope. Finally, Silky let out an overjoyed cry.

“Cleaning supervisor main area- based in central library! Yes ladies! We’re fucking outta here!”

Brooke smiled so hard that her face hurt as Silky held her phone to her ear. Thank God. The nightmare was over, she could go back to her flat and not be literally trapped in a building with her ex. She would soon be-

The four girls jumped as a faint ringing of a phone could be heard from out in the lobby. For the hundredth time that night, Brooke felt her heart sink.

“I don’t really know what we expected from that,” Vanessa sighed, looking every inch the kicked puppy.

It was quickly decided that their last hope were the girls who weren’t in the library, although this went down the drain fast as it was discovered that Yvie was over at Scarlet’s flat and they were both asleep, neither Akeria nor Monet were picking up, and Plastique had gone home to revise.

“What about Monique, Vanj? Could we try her?” Nina asked. Brooke was confused at the way Vanessa’s face twisted in discomfort, a little line setting deep on her forehead.

“Nah, she, uh…she won’t pick up,” she said simply, Nina nodding quickly and neglecting to ask any more about it. It didn’t stop Brooke from being intrigued.

“What the fuck are we gonna do, then? We can’t just spend the night here,” Silky’s voice was disbelieving. Brooke gave a resigned shrug.

“Silk, I don’t think there’s any alternative. It’s only a few hours, the place’ll open up again at six. We can go upstairs and sleep in those little pods they have for group projects. Then by the time we wake up again, it’ll be morning and we can all go back to the flat,” Brooke explained calmly, although inside she still had a lot of anxiety rattling about and the dark of the library wasn’t helping.

The girls reluctantly agreed that it was probably the only thing that was left for them to do. In nervous silence they climbed the stairs to the first floor, where Silky immediately set up camp in one of the pods, stretching herself out along the seats that had once been cushioned but had been flattened by hundreds and thousands of sets of bums over the years. Nina took one and set her laptop back up again, arguing that she’d actually been on a pretty good streak before she’d had to pack up and wanted to see if she could churn out another thousand words before she went to sleep. Brooke peeled off from the girls and took her own pod, her tall body unable to fully fit along the seats. As she attempted to sleep, one thing kept stopping her as it usually seemed to around this time of day. She sighed, tossed and turned as she thought about Vanessa. It had all gone so badly wrong. The more she tried to get her off her mind, the more memories she was reminded of. Hurting Vanessa was easier than loving her; snapping at her and being snarky made Brooke feel bad and a bit of a bitch, but loving her and torturing herself for what an idiot she’d been made her feel ten times worse, as if her heart had been removed from its sheath in her ribcage and been stomped on, kicked about, stabbed with a blunt knife and dragged through broken glass. Any attempt to sleep was futile. Brooke’s eyes hurt with fatigue as she sat up, rubbed them and stretched. She would go and see if Nina was still awake, maybe sit up and annoy her for a while.

As she crossed the floor she noticed a small movement out of the corner of her eye. Vanessa was sitting on the floor by the window, her legs crossed and eating a packet of crisps she’d managed to procure from somewhere. Brooke thought she looked so tiny compared to the huge pane of glass and the world that sat outside of it. Now that the lights were off, Brooke could see every detail that lay beyond the window- the soft yellow glow of the streetlights that faintly illuminated the park beside the library, the pink and white marshmallow cherry blossom trees that lined each path. A memory shot through Brooke’s mind like a lightning bolt- the eight of them in second year after their exams had all finished, having a barbecue in the park as the sun beat down and frazzled them all to a crisp, the smell of sausages and weed carried on the light breeze and the warmth in Brooke’s heart as Vanessa had teased her about something, the girls all laughing at Brooke’s embarrassment and protests.

God, they’d all been so happy.

Without really knowing what her plan was, Brooke walked over to where Vanessa was sitting and sat down cautiously beside her. The other girl looked at her, as if she was deciding whether to glare or smile. She ended up doing neither.

“Can’t sleep either?” Brooke chose as her opener, immediately regretting it for the cheesy line from a film it was. Vanessa gave a sarcastic chuckle, gestured around her.

“Apparently,” she said simply, Brooke looking at the carpet and kicking herself. There was a moment where the cogs in her brain whirred quickly, trying to come up with something else to say. Vanessa surprised her by speaking again. “I ain’t been sleeping too good lately anyway, though, so. I guess it don’t matter.”

“Me neither,” Brooke felt something click inside her, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins as she spoke again. “Vanessa, we need to talk.”

Vanessa kept her eyes trained on the pane of glass in front of her. “We are talking.”

“God, Ness, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” Brooke sighed, her face pleading. Vanessa’s head snapped round to face her and her eyes were what could only be described as murderous.

“Hard? Don’t fucking dare talk to me about hard,” she said, slowly and carefully and causing Brooke’s heart to frost over in fear. “This year has been shit, absolute shit, the shittest year of my life. You broke my heart- no, fuck that. You broke me. I had to take my goddamn feelings and put them all back together again, start from scratch while you swanned about absolutely fine. I am having to fight to get my average up because of the days I spent in my flat crying instead of going to lectures. Do you have any idea, Brooke, what this has been like for me?”

Brooke was silent as Vanessa continued relentlessly. “And then I finally got myself to a place where, hey, maybe I could be friends with you again! Then what happened? All the old feelings came back, didn’t they, and then we fucking…slept with each other and-”

“Hey, no,” Brooke jumped in, frowning and unable to listen to what was to come. “Don’t try to pin that on me, Vanessa, that was all you. It wasn’t me that fucking…straddled you in the hot tub and stripped off and talked about the sex I was having with other girls, was it?”

“Oh, no! You’re right. You’re correct,” Vanessa smiled sarcastically, soon getting replaced with a scowl. “You only got with me incredibly intensely in front of seven of our closest friends, who knew all the shit that’s gone down between us and watched like a fucking soap opera.”

“Well I didn’t hear you complaining at the time!” Brooke bit back, causing Vanessa to fall silent and play with a thread of her ripped jeans. Brooke let out a breath she’d been holding, took in a huge gulp of air. “Look, this is…this is off to a bad start.”

Brooke watched Vanessa’s throat move as she swallowed, her eyes cast downwards. Brooke was good at holding in her feelings, bottling them up like her life depended on it. She was terrified of feeling too much. She had no idea how this conversation was meant to start, but she knew she had to have it.

“Vanessa, I am sorry. I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but for what it’s worth, I am. I’m sorry for going about everything the wrong way. I’d never…done anything like this before, never properly seen anyone like I was seeing you, so I didn’t know how to behave. And fuck, maybe I was leading you on, and I’m sorry for that too. I just didn’t know what I wanted. Well, I thought I knew what I wanted but then I just…didn’t any more. I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t realise how much you liked me until it was too late,” Brooke cut herself off, sighing and feeling a bubble of sadness rise up in her throat. “Fuck, I’m trying to put it all the way I want it but nothing’s coming out right.”

Vanessa was looking at her, she knew it, but Brooke’s gaze had dropped to the floor. She brought her knees up to her chest. There was so much she wanted to say to Vanessa but none of the sentences she constructed in her head seemed to be sufficient.

“That night. You said that you missed me,” Vanessa’s voice was soft and small as she spoke, stripped from all the venom it had held before. “Did you mean it?”

Brooke jumped in instantly. “Yes.”

Vanessa was now looking at the floor, picking at her shoelace. “And did you mean…as a friend, or…just the sex, or…”

Brooke took a deep breath. I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou. The words were so close to coming out, but she stopped them. Now wasn’t the right time, nowhere near the right time. She tried to think about what the perfect response would be, sighed, scrapped it, and decided to just simply speak. “I miss you as…everything. I miss you as whatever you want to be to me. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. I just miss you for all that you are, the person you are. I miss us,” Brooke paused, realised her last remark was slightly risky. “Interpret that…however you want.”

Brooke snuck a gaze at Vanessa. A thought struck her as memories ran round her mind, and now she had started talking it seemed she couldn’t stop. “Do you remember after we…after lazerquest. Yvie’s birthday. We met up and we spoke about things and you said something. That whatever happens, we’d be friends always. Do you remember?”

Vanessa gave a little laugh. “You can wear a set of armbands in a current, don’t mean you won’t drown.”

She saw Brooke’s confused look, shot her a bashful smile. “I never expected to…end up feeling so strongly for you at the start. Didn’t expect to get as crazy about you as I got. Man…I wish you could turn feelings off.”

Brooke felt herself frown, a deep regret settling in the pit of her stomach. “I wish that too.”

She didn’t miss the brief look of surprise that flashed across Vanessa’s face. In the lull in conversation that followed, Vanessa wordlessly pushed the packet of crisps towards Brooke. She took one. Chilli heatwave wasn’t her favourite flavour, but it was a peace offering, and she’d take what she could get.

"So I stopped sleeping with Monique,” Vanessa commented, shrugging a little. Brooke blinked, almost choked on her crisp as she raced to get a reply out.

“Uh, yeah, I did notice you were a bit weird about things when Nina said you should call her.”

Vanessa pushed some hair out of her face, puffed her cheeks up with air and blew out harshly. “Monet kinda told me…she was catching feelings, and obviously I wasn’t there for that. So I said to her we shouldn’t keep going.”

Brooke felt a little twinge of pain for Monique. The poor girl had a crush and was just caught in the crossfire. “And how did she take it?”

Vanessa stared through the glass, her gaze steadfast. “I could tell she was sad. Disappointed. She didn’t start cryin’ or nothing, but…God, I still felt bad. I liked her, you know, she was a great girl. Maybe there’s a parallel universe where she took my heart and patched it all up again and we ended up together but…that’s not what it was for me. And the more she said she understood and that she hoped I’d find happiness, the worse I felt for having to tell her I wanted something different.”

Brooke nodded. She wanted to tell Vanessa that she knew the feeling all too well, but she didn’t want to interrupt her. Vanessa turned her head slowly, finally making eye contact with Brooke, and her eyes were the softest they’d been in a while. “I guess what I’m sayin’ is…I know now what it must have been like for you to break it off with me. And yeah, it completely fuckin’ wrecked me but…you did what you had to do. So…I forgive you, Brooke Lynn.”

Brooke couldn’t quite believe Vanessa was in front of her saying all this. Instinctively she wanted to launch herself forward and hug her, thanking her for her change of heart. Just as she’d convinced herself she was almost going to do it, Vanessa spoke again. Her voice held a slightly more steely note to it now. “But I don’t forgive you for kissing me or for that night in the hot tub. That really fucked with me.”

Brooke fought the urge to snap a childish you started it at her and instead said a soft okay. She also fought the urge to reach out and place a hand on top of Vanessa’s. The building was still pitch black and silent and the girls had reached a conversational purgatory. Vanessa had forgiven her for some of her mistakes at least. This was the closure Brooke had wanted. Despite herself, she found herself opening her mouth. There was so much still unresolved.

“You must kind of hate me for that."

Vanessa snorted, tilted her head to the sky. "I do and I don’t.”

A small silence. Brooke knew what she wanted to say, knew what topic she wanted to breach, but it meant plunging head first into the icy chill of the great unknown, and as much as she wanted to talk about it she was terrified of doing so.

“Is that because part of you loves me?”

It was out before Brooke knew it. Vanessa had frozen, her body unmoving with her head still positioned towards the ceiling like a terrifying Exorcist yoga pose. Brooke could immediately predict it, could practically hear it- Vanessa’s quick, sarcastic response, don’t flatter yourself, her getting up and thundering away to another part of the building in some angry game of hide and seek. She couldn’t face any of those options, so Brooke continued talking. “I was in the bathroom at the same time. In the next stall along from you and the girls. I heard you say that you never got to tell me. Did you mean it?”

“Why are you asking me this, Brooke? Is it to add insult to injury? Is it not enough knowing that the girl you broke it off with can still come crawling back into bed with you so easily, you have to rub salt into the wound by getting me to fucking…” Brooke heard Vanessa take a big deep, shaky breath, felt the tears prick at the corners of her own eyes. “…admit that I’m in love with you, yes, okay? I love you. What’s the reason?”

“Because I…fuck,” Brooke jumped in then immediately stopped. She felt her jaw wire itself shut, almost paralysed with fear. She didn’t know if she could verbalise everything she was feeling. “I’m not good at talking about this stuff.”

“No shit, Miss Marple,” Vanessa quipped bitterly, her eyes back looking at the carpet and avoiding Brooke’s gaze. The lack of eye contact helped Brooke. She carried on.

“You know, I used to lie in bed before I went to sleep and rehearse what I would say to you to tell you I liked you,” Brooke gave a laugh, remembering when things were more simple. “Except none of it worked out that way. And now I’ve actually got a second chance at it, I’m almost too frightened to say it. I completely fucked it with you, Vanessa. You’re an absolute one of a kind person. Your smile just makes me happy whether or not it’s directed at me. The love and loyalty you have for your friends makes me proud of you. You’re so determined and hard working and you’re smashing your degree. And you’re kind. You see the good in everyone and you’re not afraid to feel and tell the world all about it. All these things that I just…love about you. It took me being away from you and making the biggest mistake of my life, and that night when we were together like everything was back to normal, it took all of that to make me realise that I’m…fuck..”

Brooke almost hadn’t realised she was crying until a sob bubbled up in her throat, almost choking her. It was almost like her body’s survival mechanism, trying to save her from the potential rejection she might face once the words were out.

Fuck it.

“I’m in love with you. I love you so much that it scares me. It scares me more than being fucking…trapped in the library in the pitch black with no way out,” Brooke let out a hybrid of a laugh and a sob. By now, Vanessa had lifted her gaze to look at Brooke, and Brooke had shifted hers so she could protect herself from Vanessa’s reaction. “Because I don’t want to hurt you again, and you deserve better than someone like me.”

“Then don’t,” Vanessa said quietly.

“What?” Brooke whispered, confused. She tugged the sleeves of her jumper over her hands and jammed them under her eyes, used them to stop the tears from escaping.

“You said you don’t want to hurt me again. Then don’t,” Vanessa repeated patiently. Brooke blinked. She had no idea what that meant, so she went with the knowledge she had at hand.

“I love you, and you love me,” Brooke said softly, finally meeting Vanessa’s eyes. “Can we…do something with that information?”

Vanessa let out a loud blast of a laugh, making Brooke giggle even though she didn’t know what was funny. “God, that’s the most Brooke Lynn Hytes way of asking me out ever. Can we do something with that information.”

Vanessa’s smile was infectious. It lit up Brooke’s heart and she wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her gently, to make Vanessa hers properly this time. As her smile faded though, Brooke felt her hope fade too. Vanessa let out a world-weary sigh. “Brooke, I don’t…I don’t know if I can do this all over again.”

Brooke’s heart dropped to the floor and shattered. She wanted to say something, fill the silence and reassure her, but nothing came out. She had opened up, and it had all been for nothing. This was her karma- she had broken Vanessa’s heart and now here was Vanessa breaking hers. She felt crushed. Lacking the energy to do it properly, she nodded her head once, the action small and probably barely noticeable.

It was so quiet that Brooke could hear Vanessa swallow beside her, hear her breathing deeply to calm herself down before she spoke. “You never hear it in the movies but sometimes…sometimes love isn’t enough, you know, sometimes you need to put yourself first, and sometimes the person you love ain’t necessarily the one who ends up making you happiest.”

Brooke felt her chest grow tight, felt ashamed as her head hung to the floor. She saw two tears fall from her eyes and drop onto the carpet, making identical, miniscule ponds.

“But then also,” Vanessa continued, the but aspect causing Brooke’s heart to dip and soar upwards as if it was on a rollercoaster. “I love you for a reason, don’t I? The way that you say shit that’s all sarcastic and funny. The way you make me laugh. The way you’re always blunt and truthful, and when you say nice things to me it feels like you’re just saying a fact. The way you got this childish, immature streak to you that makes everything feel like an adventure when I’m with you. You listen in the best way, ‘cause you never try an’ force advice down anyone’s throat. You’re always so concerned about everyone you care for and want them to be happy…and even though you ain’t good at expressin’ it, I know you have feelings and I know they scare you. You’re like a fuckin…model, you’re so beautiful and perfect. So that’s as simple as it has to be, right?”

Brooke looked up and saw tears in Vanessa’s own eyes. All the honesty was so raw and painful, like burnt or grazed skin, and it hurt and stung as if it was real. It was real. Brooke hid a sob, took a deep breath. “I don’t, uh. I don’t know where we take this.”

“I want to be with you. I want to love and be loved, feel my heart fuckin’…burst like it’s made of confetti,” Vanessa continued, letting out what could have been a sob or a laugh. “But I want to be happy. I don’t want to be hurt again. I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too,” Brooke nodded, feeling the tracks the tears were making down her face. She sighed, the pain in her heart too heavy for her to carry. “Fuck, maybe we’re just not meant for each other, maybe we got our chance already. Maybe nothing should come of this-”

“But, fuck, I love you, Brooke! And you love me,” Vanessa sighed in exasperation, her mascara collecting under her eyes as her own tears continued to fall. “And that…that means something.”

“I love you,” Brooke repeated, in case it counted for anything. It meant the world to her. Vanessa gave a sad smile, reached out and took Brooke’s hand and laced their fingers together. She squeezed Brooke’s hand twice, and the simple gesture made Brooke hopeful that everything was going to be okay.

“Shit, I waited so long to hear you say that and now it’s like…” Vanessa began sadly, trailing off. Brooke didn’t push her to finish her sentence. Instead, she squeezed her hand like Vanessa had done with hers. The action seemed to work as a prompt, because she spoke again, tilting her head with curiosity. “What do you want outta all this?”

Brooke knew immediately. “I want you. I want us to be us again.”

Vanessa let out a soft sigh, paused. “Okay, well. I don’t know what I want right now, Brooke. An’ it’s gonna be hard to start again. So you’re gonna need to give me time to decide.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait for you. You can take all the time you need,” Brooke reassured her instantly. “I’ll still be here.”

Vanessa’s hand shifted in her own. Brooke watched as she frowned a little, cast her gaze her way again. "You mean that?”

“I mean it. Whatever you decide. Whether we’re worth an extra chance or not. I’ll wait for you.”

A small smile crept onto Vanessa’s face as Brooke waited for her reply. “That’s the most romantic shit anyone ever said to me.”

“Well, it’s just the truth,” Brooke muttered, feeling her cheeks grow hot and glad that the dark room would hide her pink blush. Then, getting an idea and feeling a little spark of that childishness and immaturity Vanessa seemed to love so much, Brooke let go of Vanessa’s hand and held out her other one for her to shake. The other girl looked at her, a funny, confused smile on her face as she took her hand and shook it obediently.

“Hey. I’m Brooke Lynn,” she began, trying to suppress her smile as she spoke. Vanessa giggled, falling back a little then leaning forward.

“What are you…”

“Starting again. What’s your name, beautiful?” Brooke teased, all the darkness somehow bursting into colour as Vanessa laughed beside her, swatting her on her arm with her hand. She hadn’t seen this Vanessa in so long; happy, laughing, cheerful and playful. Brooke could’ve cried with how much she’d missed her.

“This is some dumbass shit, you know that?” Vanessa giggled, but Brooke could see the blush on her own cheeks illuminated by the streetlamps outside. Vanessa appeared to see her expectant face, laughed a resigned laugh and indulged her. “Nice to meet you, Brooke. I’m Vanjie. Well, Vanessa, but everyone calls me Vanjie.”

“Can I call you Vanessa? It’s pretty. It suits you.”

Vanessa laughed again, making Brooke give a chuckle too. “Bitch! You never flirted with me this hard the first time.”

“Well the first time we were friends, so I couldn’t flirt with you. Not properly like I wanted to anyway,” Brooke laughed, taking a Dorito and throwing it at her playfully. Vanessa squealed, toppling herself out of the way. “You, on the other hand, flirted all the time.”

“I’m a flirtatious person! You shouldn’t have taken that shit personal,” Vanessa protested, attempting to look offended but unable to wipe the smile off her face.

“So Vanessa,” Brooke carried on, trying to stop herself smiling as she carried on with the charade. “What are you studying?”

They carried on like that all through the night, being silly and getting to know each other again right from the very beginning. They had missed out on so much conversation over the past few months that it was actually nice to catch up, to re-establish herself in Vanessa’s life. She was looking at graduate jobs in events management for after uni and thinking of moving home to save money. For a fleeting moment Brooke almost suggested that they move in together but she was glad she had the sense not to verbalise that, a thought that was perhaps better bottled up and saved for another time. After all, Vanessa hadn’t even decided if she wanted to be with Brooke or not yet. Brooke had to cling on to the hope that maybe she would, because she had nothing else. Well, that was a lie. She had Vanessa’s smile and her laugh, the twinkle in her eyes when Brooke made a deadpan comment. She had the way Vanessa opened up to her, told her how scared she was of trying to navigate the world on her own after she graduated. She had the way that Vanessa shuffled close to her when the sun eventually began to rise, its glow a burnt orange ombre into a soft yellow which faded into the gentle blue of the morning sky. She had the way Vanessa’s head fit perfectly into the crook of her neck as, worn out and exhausted, she closed her eyes and dozed off in Brooke’s tentative arms.

Most of all, she had the fact that Vanessa loved her, and Brooke loved her back. And even though it hadn’t been the movie scene confession Brooke had been expecting, that fact, the sunrise, and Vanessa sleeping softly against her chest was enough for her for the moment.

#rpdr fanfiction #not nineteen forever #n19f #ortega #branjie #scyvie #ninex #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #college au #university au #nina west #silky nutmeg ganache #s11

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forkanna · 4 years ago

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Sorry about the long delay in updates. My life's been a bit up and down of late; good things and bad. Hopefully things will settle soon. Either way, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

CHAPTER NINE

This was definitely a new one on Rise Kujikawa. She felt like the world had turned upside down — again — and she was supposed to navigate her way without a map or a compass. Where to begin?

"What… are you- oh come on, liking girls doesn't make you a boy. Has that really been worrying you all this time?"

Ai blinked across at her for a few seconds. "What? Oh, yes, but… Rise-chan, I'm trying to tell you something pretty major. Aren't you paying attention?"

"Come on, you're not a boy! Regardless of why you think you are, so like, you can cut that out right now. Okay?" She reached over to take up her hand and squeeze it firmly between both of her own, trying to ignore the way Ai whimpered. "We're friends. If you never want to kiss me again, that's okay, but just wanting to kiss me a couple times? Does not mean you're a boy, or messed up, or me and you have to move to Ni-Chome, or anything. It's all good."

Ebihara remained quiet for a second, simply holding her friend's hand. Looking more than a little lost. "Well, Ni-Chome is right around the corner from here… and that's where… people like us go. Right?"

"Hey! There's no 'people like us', we're just people!"

"Ugh, I know," she burst out in irritation at herself, suddenly standing up and pacing back and forth in front of Rise. "I know! It's so stupid that I get in my own head about this, but I can't just enjoy anything. Why am I like this? Do I have no chill?!"

"Guess not." When Ai stopped to glare at her, she rolled her eyes. "Well, you really don't! I'm not saying it's bad or you're bad, but you do need to learn how to relax."

But she kept pacing. Rise had just about given up and assumed that was the end of the discussion, and that she should go back to trying to find another song to sing — when Ai suddenly knelt down in front of her, hands gripping the sofa on either side of the idol's hips.

"Wha- hey, what are you doing?!"

"Getting your attention, girl. I need you to really hear me."

"God, I hear you just fine! We just got done agreeing you don't need to make a big deal out of every-"

"My birth name was Aihiko," she pushed ahead stubbornly, such a fierce determination in her eyes that Rise had to fight down the instinct to cower. Even drunk, she could be a real force of nature. "And I always knew that didn't fit me. It just took me until really late in elementary school before I figured out why.

"What I told you and the others before was true. I was always bullied, always called 'Piggy-hara' because I was fat. Because I didn't fit in, anywhere. No matter how many times I looked at the sports clubs, at the manly men I was supposed to look up to, my parents told me I would become someday… I didn't want to. I wanted to be Taeko Ohnuki, or Utada — I wanted to be Sailor Moon. All the other boys would fight over being Red Hawk when we played Featherman; I was too happy to be Pink Argus, when nobody else would want to touch that character unless we were playing with another girl. My whole life, I knew… I just didn't have a word for it. Not until… Ikko."

When she didn't continue for a moment, Rise cleared her throat to prompt quietly, "Ikko?"

"The talk show host. Trans and fabulous. I could see right there on my television screen, in front of my crying eyes thanks to another day of bullying and shame, a woman who was born like me — living her truth, live and in colour in front of the whole country. And sure, those talk shows are a little corny, but to me, as a little boy who thought he was just going to be broken for the rest of his life? They looked like hope."

"Oh… Ikko, yeah. Think I've seen her on Shin Domoto Kyoudai, and um, Onee MANS. Yeah." Rise was struggling to keep up mentally. She felt like any second now, the whole thing was going to come crashing down around her ears…

"Believe me, I know this is a lot to take in," she said with a sigh, brow creasing in concern for her friend. Which Rise thought was encouraging. "But once I realized who and what I was, and we were now suddenly filthy fucking rich, I asked my parents to help me be who I always was. Ironic that my mother was against it and my father was only too happy to help, but I mean, life is weird. And I have never really looked back… until now. With you."

"With me? Wait, wait… I feel like I'm losing my mind a little bit here. Do I have this right? You were born as a boy — which there's no way I can believe, just look at you! But because of some talk show host, and a bunch of mean kids who were jerks to you, you decided you didn't want to be a boy anymore?"

Ai grimaced. "That is… an oversimplification, but essentially, yes."

"And now you think you made the wrong choice because…" A hard swallow. "Me. Because you like me." Ai gave a small nod. "Whoa."

"You don't believe me." Her head fell forward until it was resting on Rise's shoulder. Now that they were so close, she could feel how badly her friend was trembling. "I should have known. Stupid. Why do I always think I know better, and things will go differently? Do I have brain damage? Maybe that's it, maybe it's brain damage and I need to be admitted to some kind of facility with padded walls and electroshock."

"Shut up already, wow…" Her hand came up to gently caress over Ai's hair. "Listen... It's not that I want to be skeptical. I can tell you aren't just screwing around, but come on, how do you expect me to believe any of this? You are gorgeous! And Ikko, she's also really pretty but I can tell she was born a boy. You? No way. It's just too crazy to be possible — and if you only knew some of the things I've seen, you would know I don't say that for no reason!"

Ai nodded glumly. Defeated. That was really the only word for it, and Rise felt awful, but she also couldn't flick a switch and suddenly not have that healthy dose of skepticism. Who would believe a story like this right out of the gate with absolutely zero proof right in front of their eyes?

"Sorry," Rise finally whispered in a small voice.

"Why? Nothing to be sorry about. In fact, I know you won't get it, but you really helped me today."

"Huh? How did I do that? By not believing you?!"

"Exactly." Standing up again, she brushed off the front of her long skirt studiously. "If it's so inconceivable to you that I could have been a boy in a past life, then I guess that means I'm not crazy for pursuing my dream — living life as who I am inside. So I guess… thank you."

That sinking feeling swirling around in Rise's stomach was getting stronger. Maybe Ai wasn't kidding. But that was insane! Sure, Naoto had been able to hide her gender for a little while, but it wasn't as easy going in the other direction. If Ai were a boy in disguise, she would be doing things to hide certain aspects of her anatomy. Such as…

Such as a frilly lace collar around her neck. At all times.

"Is… what's… under here…?"

Her fingers barely came in contact with the collar when Ebihara took a step backwards — and literally tripped over the coffee table, sprawling on her back on the carpet with a ghastly yelp. Rise hurried around to crouch over her.

"I'm sorry! God, I'm really sorry, are you all right?!"

"Y-yeah," she groaned, even though she was holding her head, which indicated that no, she probably wasn't.

"I just wanted to ask about that collar," Rise said while helping her sit up. "But I didn't mean to scare you, I probably should have asked before I reached for it."

"Yeah, you should have. But it's no big deal." The phone buzzed again. "Ugh. It's getting late, we probably shouldn't ask for more time. This way we can maybe slip back in before final period and avoid catching hell."

"Hah! No way can we make it back in time, I really don't think so. But keep dreaming."

"Always," Ai offered with a slight smirk.

~ o ~

But as her friend answered the phone and she started gathering up their things, Rise's brain was swirling with far too many thoughts. They followed her out of the karaoke establishment and all the way back to the train platform, into the car itself. At least it wasn't as crowded as it would be if they caught a later train, even though they still had a good hour and a half left in their trip. Her poor young mind was plagued by a thousand questions, anxieties, and just random thoughts that were so unwelcome but wouldn't seem to go away for anything.

Could all that craziness actually be true? No. It was so impossible and ludicrous. Yet Ai had said every word with conviction, and no trace of uncertainty. Either this was one of the most convincing scams of all time, or…

Could she really be a boy?

Just glancing over at the flawlessly beautiful profile of Ai Ebihara was seemingly enough to put that possibility to death. Impossible. Even though Rise knew that there were women out there who had been born different, and she very vaguely understood the concept, she didn't know any of them personally. Any she had seen in popular media were various degrees of feminine and pretty, but still obviously not born the way she was; there were readily apparent differences. None of which she observed when looking at her new best friend. How was she supposed to believe such a wild story?

But she couldn't completely let go of how earnestly Ai had looked at her when confessing about her alleged condition. If she really were full of shit, she probably would have never tried to sell it so hard; what did she have to gain by it? Anything? Not as far as she could tell, no matter how she tried to look at it. There was no impetus for her to make up such a wild tale.

So then… crazy as it was, if she had nothing to gain by lying…

'No way, though!' she screamed internally, clamping her eyes shut for a moment as the train bumped along toward Yasoinaba. 'She's so perfect, she's prettier than me. Why is she doing this to me? Why lie? I don't know what to think anymore!'

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand slipping into her own. Rise peeled open her eyes to see her friend, this beautiful woman who she was suspecting of horrible lies, smiling gently over at her with a concerned expression. Her heart melted. It didn't clear up any confusion at all, but she couldn't pretend this girl was being cruel to her for no reason. Not when she looked at her like that.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah! Great! Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I'm a horrible bitch for dropping a bombshell on you," Ai supplied quietly. "You should be pissed."

"Nope. I mean… okay, I do have a question." When there was no reply, Rise continued, "Why didn't you just show me?"

"Show you what?

"You know…"

Ai blinked at her friend's reddening features for a couple of seconds until she got it, and her lip curled. "Oh, what the fuck? You want me to just flash you?!"

"NO!" A few people turned to look at the two of them, and she double-checked that her hat was hiding her trademark hair again. "Not here! And I didn't say I wanted you to, I'm just, y'know… wouldn't that have been the easiest way? To prove what you were telling me?"

"Yeah, I guess so, but that seems really gross. Besides…"

When she didn't finish her thought, Rise nudged her with her elbow. "Hey, c'mon, don't chicken out now. We literally just made out so I don't think there's any reason to be shy anymore."

"I mean, okay, but it's not about feeling shy. I was going to say I had hoped you would believe me."

Damn. That really cut her to the core. But she couldn't even get upset about it, because as Ai said, she hadn't been holding back because she was shy. Obviously, she wasn't sure it was kind of her to issue a pseudo accusation like that. Her own fault for digging.

"Y-yeah. I can see why you would think that, but I mean, I've just never thought about anything like this before. It doesn't have anything to do with you! Yukiko or Chie could tell me the same exact thing and I would be just as skeptical. Does… I mean, do you hate me?"

"No," Ai whispered with quiet urgency, gripping her hand tighter. And Rise gripped back; she needed the comfort, and wanted her bestie to know that none of this meant she was going anywhere.

"You're sure?"

"Really, really sure. I'm sad you didn't believe me but I can't deny you have a point; as great as it is to know I look good enough to pass even when I'm telling you about it point-blank — seriously it's a huge relief, you will never know — I guess this is the one downside."

Rise tipped to the side until her head was resting on Ai's shoulder. She still felt dizzy. This was a nightmare and a dream, and she just wanted to go back to yesterday. Before she had been told impossible things that had to be true, because it was actually stranger that they be lies. It was like some kind of…

Magic.

"I'm being stupid," she finally breathed aloud as the revelation hit her like a bolt out of the blue. How could she have been looking at this so backwards?!

"What?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "Just… I've seen some pretty crazy stuff in my life. You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Ai definitely wouldn't believe her. "And I'm sitting here, thinking it's too weird that you might have been born a boy? That's so dumb!"

Clearly taking that in a slightly different manner, her friend chuckled and said, "There you go. I mean, you were in the entertainment industry."

"It's not like it is in the west, Ebi-chan. Like… a little, but when I toured the U.S.? Lots of people like that, all the makeup artists, and… you know, that Lady Gaga?" Ai shook her head. "She's really big over there, I have one of her albums somewhere."

"Bring it over, then. I mean, if she's queer, I want to hear her."

"Well, I don't know she is, but she has this whole… you know, dressing like a drag queen, big feathers and meat dresses! Crazy stuff!" They both laughed together, relaxing into the closeness. Like it should be.

"Either way, bring it," Ai said, interrupting her weird stomach-upside-down moment of realising what she had just been thinking. "I mean, don't expect me to choose her over Mariya, but…"

Rise giggled and whispered, "Or me. Because you're not a fan of my trash music."

"HEY! Shut the fuck up, I never said- UGH, you are a pain in the ASS." An airy sigh as she kissed the top of Rise's head. "You're lucky you're so cute."

Full blush. Rise was glad for her sunglasses and hat or she would have died of embarrassment. Biting her lip, she reached up to pull Ai closer, almost snuggling into her as best she could on the uncomfortable train seats. All she wanted was for the world to fall away, leaving them to revel in the escape from their reality. Their escape into each other.

"I'm scared."

"Me too."

"Really?" Rise whispered. "I'm… I don't even know… what to think. Are we lesbians? Or, because you were a boy, is it just…"

"Honestly? I don't know, either. That's why I was freaking out earlier. But now, I…" She cleared her throat and said, almost fearfully, "I think 'lesbian' could be the right word. Though I did really like Yu… ugh, I'm a lost cause."

"No," she snapped at her, looking up into her eyes. "Hey. You're the number one hottie of Yasogami High. Everybody says so."

"They say I'm a bitch, too."

"So? You've earned being a little bit of a bitch for a while. But I do think it's time to put the bitchy-pants away and start being Ai Ebihara again. Or, um…" Then she laughed in embarrassment.

"What?" she asked, brow furrowed in preemptive fear.

"I forgot already. Your real name; you told me, I just… you're Ebi-chan, I can't remember it."

"Oh. Well, it doesn't matter, because that's not really me anymore. Like you with 'Risette'; you cringe every time anyone says it. Even just now."

"Huh?! No, I didn't!"

"You so did, Rise-cheese."

The pop star puffed out her cheeks angrily as she glared up at her best friend. Then she pouted extra hard. "You can't make fun of me. It's mean."

"Thought you said I earned the right to be a bitch," Ai teased with a half-smirk.

"Not to ME! And I also said you can stop now! Hmph." Then she turned away from her, folding her arms over her chest as she glared away into the compartment.

"Oh wow, dramatic." But when Rise didn't turn back after a minute, she grabbed her upper arm and shook it slightly. "Come on… you can't really be this mad." More silence. A little desperation began to enter Ai's voice. "Rise… wait, wait, you're pissed off because I called you 'cheese'?!"

"I'm not cheese." But she did peek over her shoulder, and saw Ai looking legitimately conflicted. So she laughed awkwardly and turned back around, raising a hand to smooth over her hair. "Sorry… hey, I'm sorry. I was just messing around."

Ai dipped her head, expression just as conflicted as before. "This… is hard. Wow. I knew it was dumb, and you were being dumb, and I wanted to give you more shit, but my heart just started hurting, and…"

That was quite a wealth of feelings. Rise felt a little worried; would Ai really be able to handle what they were getting themselves into? Would either of them? Unable to hold back anymore, she threw her arms around her and pulled her in for the tightest hug she could manage.

"Ebi-chan… we'll be fine. Don't be so down, don't… don't lose track of what's good between us. How we fit together."

"Yeah?" she asked shakily. "You mean, how we have nothing in common, and didn't know each other before the past few weeks, a-and… and why would you even like me?"

"We have a lot in common. We like singing, and daifuku, and Korean dramas. And we both know what it's like for people not to be able to see you for who you really are; to make a lot of assumptions about you based on your appearance." Her brow furrowed, even while she was speaking. "Oh… and I guess that was even worse for you when you were a kid, huh? If you were a boy… and you felt like a girl inside… is… I mean, did I say that right? Do I know what I'm talking about?"

The softest chuckle floated out of Ai's lips as she pushed her face against Rise's neck. The nose and lips felt warm, and soft, and a little moist where she was speaking against her skin… creating goosebumps in the wake of the breath. "You're saying everything right. You always do. Probably an idol superpower."

"Maybe," she admitted with a light laugh, some of her anxiety beginning to melt away. "But I promise I'll only use it for good. I'll do my best!"

"God, you can't even turn it off. So gross!"

"You don't have to call me 'gross'! That's not nice!"

"Hey, I'm totally nice. What would you do without me being so 'nice' you want to punch a baby?"

When Rise pulled back, the most horrified expression on her face at that last bit of imagery, Ai burst out laughing so hard that she had to double over, arms wrapped around her middle. The mirth was catching; Rise giggled until she snorted like a pig, then was covering her face with both hands in shame while her supposed best friend guffawed openly at her. And she wouldn't have had it any other way, mortifying as it was. At least it meant the worst was over.

Wasn't it?

To Be Continued…

#we'll face ourselves #saphir de lune #forkanna writes #persona 4 fanfiction #rise x ai #p4 fanfic #jess the writer #yuri fanfiction

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a-vintage-snake · 5 years ago

Text

Reap The Hate You’ve Sown

Pairing(s): Romantic Royality

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Choking, manipulation, villanous Deceit Characters: Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Remus Sanders,

Summary: Roman ventures out to rescue his brother

Word Count: 7585

People who were asked to be tagged: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend, @hekking-happy-nonsense, @lockmcduckwoodchuck

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The storm howled as three figures made their way through the woods surrounding the castle. Branches pulled at Roman’s hair as he cleaved his way through the forest. It was pitch black aside from a small purple glowing orb Virgil had conjured to light their way. General Isolda closed the ranks, occasionally pulling Roman or Virgil to safety when an overhead branch swept dangerously low in the fierce wind.

“Where do we go?” General Isolda asked. “How do we know where the warlock keeps the prince?”

“We have to go to the eye of the storm,” Virgil said darkly. “It won’t be far. That’s where he’ll be waiting for us.”

A shudder crept over Roman’s spine, which had nothing to do with the relentless storm. He tried to remind himself he had done this countless times, he had fought monsters for years! It didn’t work. This was no mindless beast, just acting on a hungry belly. No, this demon was driven by a vastly different kind of hunger. Roman remembered the eyes that had rested on him for a few seconds… He couldn’t shake the feeling that the warlock wouldn’t stop until he devoured everyone in the castle.

The further they got into the woods, the quieter the wind became. When they finally stepped out into an open spot, it had become wind still. A perfect circle in the sky showed of the starlit sky. Roman looked up, gaping at the swirling clouds that raged just outside the circle, yet he felt not a single breeze.

“There he is.” The general said. Roman snapped his attention back to the open spot. In the middle clearing stood a large tree. Someone was tied to the trunk, strapped tightly in roots and branches.

“Remus…” Roman took off in a sprint towards the tree, ignoring the cursed out protests of his companions. “REMUS!!” He didn’t bother to check if the others followed behind him. All he could see was his brother’s pale face, his eyes closed and his head leaning limply against a branch.

A fire sprouted up just a few meters from the tree. Roman could stop just in time, the flames licking at his hands. He took a few steps back, his companions running up next to him.

“That’s far enough, dear.” A voice said. From the shadows of the tree stepped the warlock. A snap of his fingers and the fire extinguished itself. The general unsheathed her sword. Virgil bared his teeth in a hiss. Romeo the spider crawled out from the sorcerer’s cloak to sit protectively on Virgil’s head and joined in on the hissing. Roman only tried to swallow away his fear.

“Well, well, well, look who have come to play the knights in shining armour…” Deceit drawled. “The beloved crown prince,” He turned to Virgil, who glared daggers at him. “A sorcerer with secrets,” Lastly he turned to general Isolda. “And I have no idea who you are, so I’m just going to ignore you!”

“Unhand my brother, villain!” Roman said in a braver voice than he felt.

“Are these the only soldiers that Augusto could spare from his grand armies?” The warlock laughed softly as he strode to Remus in his wooden prison. “Pathetic, really. My expectations were low to begin with, but this?” He tutted and shook his head. “This is just sad.”

“I said, unhand my brother!” Roman tightened the hold on his sword to hide how his hands were shaking.

“I thought you were all too scared for your insignificant little lives to leave him at my mercy for so long,” Deceit said as he absentmindedly trailed a finger across Remus’ jawline. “But I guess it’s just plain indifference. A minor setback. If one son captured isn’t enough for that coward to face me, maybe…” Deceit tilted his head in thought. “Maybe I just need to capture his golden boy. What do you think, dear prince?” He turned to Roman. “Would your parents save you? Or would they leave you to rot, just like your brother?”

“Over my dead body!” Virgil growled. He stepped up next to Roman. His eyes had never been a more vivid purple. “If you want him, you have to go through me first, you lying scumbag!”

“Dear me, Virgil,” Deceit sighed. “Still as dramatic as ever, I see. I don’t know why I expected otherwise.”

Virgil stiffened. “Don’t!” He hissed at hooded man.

“What? I just meant you haven’t changed since I last saw you-”

“Don’t!”

“-When you abandoned me all alone in the mountains! That hurt, you know.”

“…Wait.” Roman looked between the two men, confusion mixing with fear. “You… know him, Virge?”

“…Oh dear,” The warlock delightedly said after a few seconds of tense silence. “What an awkward situation! You never shared that little fact with the class, did you? What’s wrong, stormcloud?” Virgil recoiled at the nickname, but Deceit gleefully continued on. “Ashamed of your old master? Well go ahead! Do tell your new friends who exactly taught you everything you know!”

“Old master…? You mean-?” Roman stared at his friend who hung his head, shame colouring his cheeks. “Tell me that’s not true! Tell me he’s lying!”

Roman desperately wanted Virgil to deny it, wanted his friend to grow angry, to spit and yell at the accusations. Instead Virgil only guiltily avoided Roman’s eyes.

“Oh he was such a diligent student,” Deceit continued. “Always ready to learn, so eager to follow my instructions. When I told him to apply for the job of court sorcerer, he readily agreed to be my spy! Didn’t you, stormcloud?”

“Your spy…?” Roman whispered.

“Shut up!” Virgil spat at the warlock. “I’m not the obedient little puppet you tried to make of me! I freed myself! Please Ro,” Virgil turned to Roman pleadingly. “I don’t work for him! I would never hurt you!”

“You are his spy?” Roman asked horrified.

“I’m not!”

“Yes you aaaaaare!” Deceit singsonged. “I mean, really, prince Roman! You can’t trust anyone these days!”

“I SAID SHUT UP!!” Virgil snapped before turning back to Roman. “Alright, maybe it started like that, but I had a change of heart very quickly! Please, I promise I’m not that person anymore! I changed, I swear!”

Roman said nothing. He could only back away from the man he considered his friend, betrayal nearly suffocating him. Hurt crossed Virgil’s face.

A hand grasped his shoulder, stopping him. Roman startled, looking up to general Isolda’s stern face.

“Know your enemies, my prince.” The general said solemnly.

“I… I don’t-” Roman stammered.

“You would distrust the one who dropped everything to help you, at the risk of angering the crown?” General Isolda continued. “Who has had every chance to hurt you in the past, but never did? Or do you want to believe the words of someone who tries to manipulate you to forsake your friend?” The woman glared at the warlock. “The one who has your brother in captivity, might I add?”

Roman tried to think of something to say, but every retort died on his lips. He glanced back at Virgil.

“I swear on my life, Ro…” Virgil pleaded. “I’m on your side.”

…...The general was right. What was he doing?

“I… I trust you, Virge,” Roman nodded, shamefully. “I’m sorry-!”

“Good,” The general released Roman’s shoulder. “Glad you have come to your senses, my prince.”

“Don’t worry,” Virgil assured. “You’re not the first to fall for his trickery,” With a growl he turned back to Deceit. “But I’ll make damn sure you’re the last!”

“You’re outnumbered,” The general said to the warlock. “Now unhand the prince.”

“I don’t like you.” Deceit scowled at her.

“Go back to ignoring me then,” She countered.

“Such a strong woman,” Deceit said. “I’m so impressed. I guess strength is the only worthwhile thing Augusto sees in you, doesn’t he? Don’t you wish you had-”

“Your tricks won’t work.” Roman interrupted, grinning when the warlock let out a low hiss in annoyance. “Release my brother, or we will get him back through force!”

“I’m positively quivering,” Deceit deadpanned, before he gave a resigned sigh. “Have it your way.”

It was the only warning they got.

Roman felt it before he saw it. An all-encompassing heat as his eyes violently had to adjust to a sudden burst of bright light. General Isolda dragged him to the side just in time as a comet of golden flames singed Roman’s hair. As abruptly as the light had started, a wall of purple sheened shadows extinguished the flames. Roman blinked away spots in his vision, never more glad for the dark.

“Very good, Virgil!” Deceit taunted. “You’re so… Evolved.”

“There’s more where that came from.” Virgil said, just a hint out of breath.

“Well then,” Deceit said. His eyes flared up like flames in the darkness. “Teacher versus student! Show me what you have learned!”

“Gladly.” Virgil spat. The shadows built in his hands, before Virgil flung them towards Deceit with an infuriated scream. Golden flames met them in the middle, colliding into each other. Roman watched as an inferno of purple and gold swirled up in a tornado of raw magic. When it vanished the two men attacked each other, snarling and snapping like animals, magic scorching the air. Deceit towered over the short sorcerer, but what Virgil lacked in physical stature and strength he made up with pure, relentless rage. Even so Roman saw his friend struggle.

“We have to help!” He said to the general. The woman nodded, determined. Side by side they threw themselves into battle with a drawn out war cry, falling in next to their friend.

It was three against one. To Roman it felt like he was fighting a small army. Spells slammed into cold metal, magic met swords. Any time he tried to get a hit in, the warlock disappeared and reappeared somewhere else. The warlock cast spells and vanished fluid and agile like a snake before any of them could counteract. Hits and spells meant for Deceit struck themselves or their companions. General Isolda would swing her sword only to meet thin air, missing Virgil by a hair. After a spell of sharp shadowed arrows just barely avoided Roman, Virgil was forced to go with less dangerous spells. Whenever either of them tried to get close to the tree they were driven back by energy blasts or flames. Virgil shouted a spell that Deceit countered easily. Purple shadows fiercely fought against golden light.

Eventually however they started to see through his tricks. A blade grazed Deceit’s hand, leaving an angry red line. Virgil’s spells met their target more often. They adapted, saw attacks better coming and jumped out of the way quicker. Roman could cheer when he finally saw the warlock falter in his steps, hope coming alive in his chest. They could actually do this!

An energy blast propelled Roman backwards, landing on his back a few meters away. He quickly scrambled up again and ran back towards the battle. The warlock shot him a look, then looked back at Virgil and general Isolda. Deceit slammed his fists together and yelled something incomprehensible. Mist whirled up around him, surrounding him and pulling him from sight. And it didn’t stop there. It grew and crept over the open spot at an alarming speed, until even the starlit sky was obscured from sight. Roman stopped. He whirled around, turning, turning, more frantic each time. There was nothing. Just mist. He couldn’t see an inch in front of his face.

“Virgil?” He shouted hesitantly. “General??”

“We’re here!” General Isolda’s voice answered, further away than what was reasonably possible.

“Where are you? I can’t see you!” Roman’s voice cracked on the last ‘you’. His heart raced in his throat.

“Stay put! We’ll find you!” Virgil answered, his voice even more distant than the general’s. Roman nodded, croaking out a shivery ‘okay’, as he tried to stay still. Part of him wanted to run and scream. Part of him wanted to curl up and cry. Where was his bravado now? Where was the courage that never failed him when he slayed monsters? He swallowed, inhaled deeply through his nose. Four seconds in, hold for seven, breathe out for eight. Four seconds in, hold for seven, breathe out for eight.

Everything would be okay. They would return safe and sound with his brother. He would have another chance. Everything would be okay. They would return safe and sound with his brother. He would have another chance. Everything would be okay, everything would be okay, everything would be okay-

He repeated the same mantra in his head over and over, hoping to calm his hammering heart and every instinct that screamed at him to run, run, run, run, run, RUN-!

A shadow moved in the corner of his eye. Roman whirled around. Nothing there. A soft laugh echoed at the edge of his hearing. He leapt and swung his sword, but only cleaved through mist. Endless, endless mist.

“Over here.” A voice teasingly whispered behind him. Roman screamed and jumped around, once more swinging his sword and finding nothing. The voice laughed again, this time to the right of him.

“Princey??” Virgil yelled anxiously, still too far away.

“I’m here!” Roman choked out, a whisper more than anything. He attempted to yell louder, but his throat closed up painfully. A hissing sound made him spin on his heels. Roman caught a glimpse of something slither on the ground, something with yellow and black scales before it slinked back into the mist. He walked backwards, legs trembling underneath him.

“You fight so bravely, dear prince,” The voice hissed. “But in vain. You know you can’t win thissss…”

“I won’t stop fighting,” Roman answered wobbly. “I won’t!”

“Oh, of course you won’t,” The voice cooed, circling him. Roman tried to follow it, hoping to spot something other than mist. “You’ve fought all your life, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Roman said. “I have defeated many foul beast before you, and you will be no different!”

“All those victories,” The voice hummed. “And yet none of those have ever truly satisfied you, haven’t they? Because you can’t fill your hollow heart with empty praises.”

Roman’s heart thumped in his throat. “I… I don’t know w-what you’re talking about!” He answered.

“It’s amazing what one spills when they’re in pain… What dark secrets your brother has told me about you.” The voice shifted, and suddenly Roman felt a solid presence behind him, hot breath tickling his skin as Deceit spoke directly into his ear. “I know your heart, Roman Alveraz.”

With a startled shout Roman spun on his feet, lurching his sword towards the other. It was blocked mid-air as Deceit grabbed the blade and held on tight. Roman was left staring into the piercing golden eyes that glowed from the darkness of the hood. He felt like prey trapped under a predator’s hungry glare.

“I know how you constantly fight for approval,” Deceit said. Blood trickled down his palm, but still he held the sword tight. “I know you fight for the love from your peers, while your ambitions rot at your feet.”

“Stop it…” Roman said shakily.

“I know how you follow in mommy and daddy’s footsteps like a good little marionette,” Deceit continued on mercilessly. “I know how you obediently dance every step they ask of you, until your feet are bleeding and raw. I know you hide behind that mask you call your true face.”

“Stop it!!”

“You must be so tired, dear prince… All those years fighting, and for what? For a crown you know very well you haven’t earned? For the shallow smiles of people who would stab you in the back at their first opportunity?”

“Don’t listen to him!!” Virgil’s voice sounded from across the mist.

“I can help you, you know,” Deceit said sweetly. “Your life is a balancing act above a raging wildfire, where even the smallest mistake burns you beyond repair. But I could douse the flames. You don’t have to fight anymore. I can make it all stop. No more fake smiles, no more pretending… I can take the pain away for you. Forever.”

“He’s lying!! Roman, don’t listen to him!” Virgil shouted, but Roman scarcely noticed. He was drowning. Deceit’s words pushed him down under in an ocean of honey, sweet and suffocating.

“You want that,” Deceit pressed on. “Don’t you?”

“Yes…” Roman whispered before he could stop himself. “Yes.”

“Of course you do,” Deceit said gently, ever so gently. “But if you want my help, you know what you’ll have to do first…”

“Invite you in…”

“Exactly!” Deceit’s voice shook in triumph. “Walk back into the castle, and invite me in.”

“…No.” Roman said in weak defiance. “No! You’ll hurt people-!”

Deceit growled, all gentleness leaving him. “What have they done for you? What do those mindless sheep mean to you? Nothing. You owe them nothing!”

The golden eyes flared up with every word, and Roman was helplessly pinned down under their gaze. A shiver started in his leg- Wait, his leg?

“You think anyone would miss them if their worthless lives ended?” Deceit went on, but Roman was a bit distracted by the tingle on his leg that startlingly enough moved up. The shiver crawled up and up, until it crawled onto Roman’s shoulder and down his arm. Roman only briefly saw a dark purple gleam and eight furry legs, before it leapt. With the tiniest yet fiercest war cry ever heard, Romeo the spider soared through the sky like an avenging angel and landed full on the warlock’s face.

Deceit gave an undignified screech as he released Roman’s sword and leapt back, flailing his arms around as he tried to smack the spider off. The mist surrounding them disappeared. Deceit’s concentration was broken.

“Get off, get off!!” The warlock shrieked, golden spells continuously just missing the purple blur that crawled over him with lightning speed.

“Good Romeo!!” Virgil yelled proudly as he ran to Roman to drag him away from the preoccupied warlock.

“He’s distracted!” General Isolda shouted. “Now is our chance!”

It was the only thing Roman needed to hear to shake away the hold that the honeyed words had on him. Virgil released him as Roman ran towards the tree, where general Isolda was already busy slashing away the roots that kept Remus prison. Roman and Virgil joined in her efforts, Roman using his sword and Virgil blasting small fire blasts to burn the wood. Roman’s breath quickened, his arms swinging frantically. Too slow, too slow, this was too slow-!!

“Keep working!” Roman yelled as he threw down his sword. The other two shouted in confusion, Roman ignored them. He wrapped his arms around Remus’ torso and pulled. He heard branches snapping as his brother was torn free from their grasp. Understanding his plan, Virgil and the general doubled their effort on the roots still wrapped around Remus. Roman kept pulling, throwing his whole body into it. He felt how the roots gave way bit-by-bit, until-

Abruptly all resistance fell away. Roman lost his balance and fell on his back, dragging his brother with him. The air was knocked out of his lungs by the limp body suddenly dropped on his chest. The weight was promptly removed when general Isolda lifted Remus up and threw him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“We got him!” She said as Roman staggered back onto his feet with Virgil’s help. “We have to get out of here now!”

“Not so fast.”

They turned. Deceit stood, slightly panting, but victoriously holding out a hand where Romeo squirmed and struggled to break free. Virgil paled.

“No,” Virgil pleaded. “Deceit, please no-!”

“So you do remember some of my lessons,” Deceit said with an unpleasant tone. “Good.”

Deceit tightened his hand and squeezed. Romeo let out pained squeaks at the same time as Virgil wailed, dropping onto his knees while clutching his chest.

“Virgil??” Roman kneeled next to his friend, whose face was pale with pain. He didn’t understand. What was happening??

“Deceit…” Virgil gasped. “Please, please stop-!!”

“You know what I want,” Deceit said a little shakily. His hand trembled as he gripped the spider even harder. Virgil cried out and the warlock looked away. “I never wished to hurt you, stormcloud, despite what you think of me…” He continued softly. “But I have to do this. I hope I can make you understand some day.”

“Whatever it is you want, it’s yours!” Roman yelled, even as Virgil weakly protested. “Just stop what it is you’re doing, just stop!”

Deceit relieved the pressure on Romeo. Virgil slumped against Roman who caught his friend. Virgil was pale as milk, yet his pained expression faded quickly, something else taking over entirely.

“Good,” Deceit said unsteadily. “Good... Well then, if we could come to an arrangement-”

A hurt and absolute livid scream tore itself from Virgil’s throat. Shadows shot from his hand like an oncoming tsunami, and hit the warlock square in the chest. Deceit was launched backward, made hard contact with the ground, rolled over a few times before coming to a stop on his stomach. He didn’t get up.

Roman stared at the unmoving body of the warlock, then at his friend. Virgil only frantically searched the open spot.

“Romeo…?” Virgil called out uncertainly. “Romeo??”

A soft rustle in the grass made Virgil hold his breath. A purple glimmer skittered over the ground as quick as it could towards Virgil.

“Romeo!!” Virgil cried out in relief as he held out his hands. He cradled the spider close to his chest as soon as Romeo crawled onto his palms. “Oh Romeo… I’m going to get you ten- No, twenty cherry crumble pies topped with the biggest, fattest flies when we get home! All for you, brave little buddy!” He kissed the spider on its furry body multiple times. Romeo wiggled under all the attention. The sight made Roman want to laugh and cry at the same time. He went with neither, as his eyes fell on the warlock, who still hadn’t moved. Roman determinedly rose, grabbing his sword from the ground. Time to finish the job.

A hand grabbed his wrist. “Leave him.” Virgil croaked.

“Wait, what?” Roman stared down at him incredulously. “But this is our chance, we could kill-”

“NO!” Virgil yelled. “Just leave him!”

“But-!”

“Please Roman,” Virgil stood up. Roman saw him wipe away a few stray tears. “Let’s go.”

Roman didn’t understand any of it, but he couldn’t ignore his friend’s pleas. So he nodded.

“Right… Let’s go.”

They ran. Virgil in front, conjuring a glowing orb, general Isolda with Remus thrown over her shoulders in the middle and Roman at the back, his sword still at the ready. As they ran out from the open spot and back into the woods, Roman turned one last time. Deceit slowly pushed himself up. Roman could swear he saw something float near the warlock’s head, but he didn’t stay to see what it was.

The storm still raged. As they ran through the forest, the wind even worsened. They struggled against its push. The soft purple orb was the only source of light they had, and it cast the forest with its swaying branches in haunting shadows. In every part of the pitch black darkness Roman’s imagination conjured up images of the warlock, ready to drag them back into the night. Roman knew they had to keep running, otherwise one of those images might prove to be the real one. Virgil, however, had other ideas. The sorcerer came to a halt as they reached a good distance from the open spot. General Isolda and Roman stopped too, puzzled.

“Why have we stopped?” The general asked.

Virgil turned. “Put him down,” He said as he pointed at Remus.

“Whatever for?” General Isolda questioned. “Need I remind you, we came here to rescue him!”

“Put him down!” Virgil said with such urgency that the general quickly lowered Remus onto the ground. “We can’t go back to the castle yet!”

“Why?? That monster is not going to stay down for long!” Roman asked as he threw down his sword and knelt down to pick Remus up again. “We have to keep moving, or-”

Hands shot up, closing around Roman’s throat. Roman’s yelp was cut off as the hands wrung his neck in a crushing grip. Remus sat up like a doll on strings. Roman wheezed and struggled, scratching and pulling at the sudden suffocating hold Remus had on him. Vaguely he saw how Remus’ face was distorted in a vicious snarl as he tightened his hands. Virgil and general Isolda yelled, but all Roman could focus on was the shadowed face of his brother. Remus’ eyes were feverishly bright. Too bright. “Rem…” Roman gasped, black spots appearing in his vision.

Virgil grabbed his shoulders and pulled, at the same time as general Isolda grabbed Remus in a headlock and yanked him back to disconnect the two. Roman gasped for air as he was released, taking in the air like a drowning man. Remus meanwhile shouted and shrilled violently, even continuing when the general covered his mouth with her hand.

“There’s your answer!” Virgil said as Roman caught his breath. “Look at his eyes, Ro!”

Roman looked up at his brother, who struggled and screamed in the general’s arms like a feral animal. Remus’ eyes were glowing a molten gold, the same colour that had glared at him from underneath a hood.

“He’s hypnotized! The second we set foot in the castle, he’ll invite the bastard in and it would all be for nothing!”

The general winced when Remus bit her hand with a fierce growl. “What do we do?” She asked.

Virgil got up, helping Roman to his feet as well. “Hold him down.” He said grimly. General Isolda didn’t question it, instead wrestled Remus to the ground and pressed him down by his shoulders. In order to do so, she had to release his mouth and Remus immediately screamed his lungs out again.

“Whatever you must do, do it quick!” The general yelled over Remus’ cries. “His screaming might attract that thing right to us!”

Remus struggled harder, furiously clawing at the general’s arms, but she managed to keep him pinned. Virgil knelt down next to Remus, shadows gathering in his hands and his eyes flashing purple. Remus immediately tried to scratch and bite at him, but Roman knelt down alongside the others and wrestled Remus’ arms to the ground. Virgil gave him a thankful nod, before he placed his hands on Remus’ chest, the shadows pulsing on his skin. Remus screamed louder.

“Get out of him,” Virgil said through gritted teeth. “Get out!”

Remus convulsed on the ground like lightning set his bones ablaze. His eyes rolled back in his head as two powers inside him fought. Virgil pushed and pushed his magic against the other, sweat forming on his brow.

“I said…” Virgil’s already gravely voice deepened, the veins on his hands darkening to a pitch black. “Get. OUT!!”

With a final push, Virgil forced all his magic into Remus, who’s back arched and mouth flew open in a soundless scream. A stream of golden light bled out from Remus’ open mouth. Under their bewildered gazes, the gold first pooled together, before shimmering and forming a tiny snake of light. It raised its little head and hissed at them.

“Quick! Grab it!” Virgil said.

Three pair of hands tried to swipe the snake off the ground. The snake hissed again and ducked under their hands before any of them could get a hold on it. It slithered back into the forest, lightning its path like a little beacon.

“Shit!” Virgil spat.

“What is it? What will it do?” General Isolda asked.

“Tell him where we are,” Virgil said. “We have to go. Now.”

The three of them jumped up. The general wanted to lift Remus back up, but Roman beat her to it. As he gathered Remus in his arms, his brother tilted his head to look at him.

“Roman…” Remus muttered.

“That’s right, Rem,” Roman laughed wobbly as he hauled his brother up and held him protectively against his chest. “I got you. I’m not letting go.”

Remus blinked tiredly at him, before his head fell on Roman’s shoulder and his eyes slipped shut. Unconscious, Roman thought.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Virgil urged as he swept Roman’s sword of the ground. Roman and the general followed Virgil and the small light orb through the dark as fast as they could. Roman had no idea how long they walked, but every minute felt like an eternity. The storm pushed at them ruthlessly. They couldn’t run as fast as they would have liked, lest they constantly trip over roots and holes in the ground, so progress felt like wading through syrup. He briefly thought how this might be his eternity, running through the woods with danger breathing hot down their necks, when-

“Just up ahead! We made it!” Virgil shouted. Roman wanted to cry out in happiness as he saw the edge of the woods, the castle’s lights shining through the branches. A lighthouse in the storm, guiding them home.

Bursting from the treeline they started to sprint towards the castle gates. Thankfully someone had left them open. Needles pricked in Roman’s lungs, his legs nearly collapsing under him but he didn’t dare to slow down. Almost there-!

Fire burst to life in front of them, stopping them meters away from the drawbridge. The flames circled them, until they were trapped. Roman didn’t need to look to know who had finally caught up to them, but he turned anyway.

Deceit was shrouded once more in mist, far closer to them than Roman had hoped. His eyes burned golden, promises of destruction flaring in them.

“Give him back!” Deceit snarled in a booming voice.

“RUN!!” General Isolda yelled.

Virgil doused the flames with his shadows so they could make their escape. Roman’s feet ached as he raced towards the castle. The extra weight of his brother threatened to drag them both down, but he gritted his teeth and pressed on. Behind him Virgil shielded him from oncoming flames, the heat licking at the back of his neck. General Isolda dragged Virgil with her as the sorcerer cast protection spell after protection spell. Roman was almost at the drawbridge-!

His foot got stuck behind a rock just as he wanted to run in. He tripped, only preventing from falling on his brother by twisting his body just in time so they fell sideways on the wooden planks of the bridge instead. Virgil cursed and turned to run right towards the danger, hoping to distract Deceit from the others. The general however grabbed him by the collar, lifted him off the ground and practically hurled him towards the castle gates, where he landed next to Roman. General Isolda stood protectively before Roman and Virgil, her sword drawn as the warlock closed in, flames and mist surrounding him like a hellish entourage.

“If you want them,” General Isolda hissed. “You’ll have to get through me first!”

“With pleasure.” Deceit purred. His golden magic came to live in his hands. Roman braced for impact, shouting the general’s name as Deceit ran towards them-

A sound not unlike a tapping against thick glass was heard. The air pulsated and Deceit was thrown back, barely managing to stay on his feet. He shook his head, throwing himself towards them to attack them again. Once more, an invisible shield stopped him.

“…What’s happening?” The general asked, confused, as Deceit feverishly felt among the air, his palms flat like he was touching a wall rather than thin air. He slammed his fists, ripples like water forming wherever he hit, but it did not let him through.

“…We’ve made it onto castle grounds.” Roman realized. “He can’t enter!”

Roman’s disbelieving laugh was overpowered by Deceit’s furious outcry. The warlock called forth his magic, hitting the shield over and over with golden fire with enough force that the flames climbed up as high as the watchtower. Roman felt the heat on his face as the air rippled, but held steady. Deceit’s livid screams followed Roman and his friends as they got up and ran over the drawbridge to the safety of the castle walls. Above them the storm roared to life once more, lightning strikes following each other up closely. They reached the door as lightning struck down behind them.

“OPEN THE CASTLE DOORS!!” The general shouted as she pounded her fist against the heavy wood. No answer came. Virgil growled in impatience and pushed against the doors, his shadow magic pushing alongside him. The doors groaned and opened, allowing the three companions to stumble in.

Roman had never been more happy to see the castle’s entrance hall in his life. Then a sword was pointed at him. He stared up into the shocked face of colonel Bentley, along with a few dozen startled knights behind him.

“Prince Roman?” The man stammered. “Isolda?? You- You survived…” His eyes fell on Remus and they widened comically large. “You found the prince! How-??”

“Stand down, Bentley!” The general commanded. The man instantly drew back the sword and jumped into a salute. “Our princes went through enough tonight! They don’t need to your questioning on top of it!”

“Yes ma’am! Sorry ma’am!” The colonel barked automatically. But then he seemed to realize something as he dropped his hand. “Wait, no! You’re no general anymore! Our king and queen have dishonourably removed you from your position! You committed treason!”

Isolda nodded. “As I suspected.” She said before she addressed the rest of the knights in the hall like she hadn’t heard him. “Make yourself ready! We have a warlock to capture!”

“What??” Roman gasped.

“B-But general…” The colonel protested, the title still slipping from his tongue without thinking. “The king and queen said that you-”

“That man is a threat to the crown, colonel!” Isolda interrupted. “Surely you’ll do our king and queen a favour by capturing their enemy. Who knows, they might even handsomely reward you! They need a new general, after all. I’m sure they’d want a brave man such as yourself to fill the position.”

The colonel thought this over for a few seconds. Greed twinkled in his eyes.

“If you put it like that…” He finally said. “Very well! Knights! Like the lady said! Make yourself ready!”

“General, you can’t-!” Roman protested.

“Not a general anymore,” Isolda said. “But it doesn’t matter. If we have any chance of capturing him and bringing that man to justice, it’s now. We have to try! And this time…” She looked around the hall proudly, where the knights readied themselves to venture into the storm. “I’ll have more help.”

“We could come with you!” Virgil said. Roman nodded in agreement.

“You’re both very brave. But I think someone else needs your help more than I do,” Isolda said as she nodded at Remus. “I’ll be fine.”

Roman stared up at her, at a loss for words. “Thank you…” He said eventually. Isolda nodded at him, a smile playing on her lips, before she followed the colonel and the knights outside, leaving Roman and Virgil alone in the entrance hall.

It was only then, as the knights disappeared into the night and his brother safe and sound in his arms, that Roman truly realized that they had done it. Somehow, against all the odds, they had saved Remus. His brother was home. Laughter bubbled up in his throat, slightly delirious. Virgil gave him a funny stare, before his lips hesitantly quirked up and his breathless chuckles joined Roman’s.

“Did… Did we just do that? And win?” Roman asked an equally stunned Virgil.

“Yeah!” Virgil said. “What the shit…”

Roman snorted at that, relief tampering down the adrenaline still running through his veins. A glance down at his unconscious brother quickly sobered him up though.

“He needs healing.” Roman said. Virgil turned serious as well.

“I have everything for a proper healing in my workshop,” Virgil said. “But in order to get there we would have to cross the courtyard…” Both friends turned to the storm outside that only seemed to turn more violent by the minute, lightning strikes following each other up with barely a pause. “Yeah… We should probably avoid any more life threatening situations if we can.”

“But he needs help now!” Roman said.

“Relax, I can heal his most urgent injuries right away,” Virgil jumped when a thunderclap made the windows rattle. “We better get him somewhere safe though.”

“Right, yes,” Roman nodded, weary exhaustion and heaviness settling in on his shoulders. Damn, he needed- What he desperately wanted was… “Let’s go back the throne room for now.”

“The throne room?” Virgil frowned. “You sure that’s a good idea, princey? Your pa- I mean, the king and queen are there too!”

“I know,” Roman scowled at the idea of facing them, but his heart ached for the comfort of golden curls and blue eyes. “I just… I need to see Patton. He has to know we’re okay.”

Virgil still looked dubious, but he nodded in understanding. “Let’s go then.”

Their footsteps rang through the empty halls as they made their walked to the throne room. Occasionally lightning outside lit up their path. Roman threw his friend a few hesitant glances before he cleared his throat.

“Virgil… About what the warlock said…” Roman began carefully, but Virgil flinched even so.

“Look, I can explain!” Virgil said hastily. “I met him when I was young, and-”

“It’s okay.”

Roman would have laughed at the startled wide-eyed stare Virgil threw his way, if it hadn’t been for the sheer dread still present on his friend’s face. “No really,” He said sincerely. “It’s fine, Virge. I don’t care about your past. I mean, you saved my butt multiple times tonight! Screw what that guy said! You’re my friend now and that’s what matters.”

“I…” Virgil looked more than a little stunned. The darkness of the halls couldn’t quite hide his touched half smile though. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head to cover it up. “Princey, you sap.” He muttered as he gently bumped his fist against Roman’s arm.

“I’m serious!” Roman said.

“I know you are, you lovable idiot.”

“Good. Secret softie.”

“Oh shut up…”

“But Virge, if you ever do want to talk about it…?” Roman said.

Virgil groaned. “I think I’m gonna take a three day nap first.”

“Ha! You and me both!”” Roman adjusted his grip on Remus slightly. He was getting heavy, but Roman was not letting go. Luckily the throne room doors were just up ahead.

“But after that,” Virgil said quietly. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to-!”

“I know I don’t. I just… Think it would be nice to finally tell someone, you know? No more hiding.”

“No more hiding,” Roman said. “Sounds like a plan!”

The knights standing guard gaped at them when they approached, but they scrambled to open the throne room doors. Horrified gasps and astounded whispers rang around the throne room as Roman and Virgil walked in, the doors closing again behind them. Roman could not blame them. He knew what kind of picture they painted. Both him and Virgil exhausted and dirty, Virgil holding a bloodied sword, and him walking in with an unconscious Remus held protectively in his arms. The crowd parted to let them through, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“Virgil?! ROMAN!!”

Pure joy swiftly coursed through when Roman saw Patton push people aside to run up to him, tears of relief streaming down his love’s face. Patton skidded to a halt however when he spotted Remus. Shocked he covered his mouth with trembling fingers.

“You… You found him,” Patton said with wide eyes. “A-And the warlock…?”

“Currently being hunted down by the general and her knights,” Virgil said as he led Roman further into the throne room. Patton followed. “He’s not a threat anymore.”

There stood a long console table to the wall, tastefully decorated with candelabras. Virgil dropped the sword against the wall and unceremoniously shoved the candelabras off the table so Roman could gently place Remus on the temporary sick bed. Patton hurriedly shrugged off his jacket, folded it up and placed it under Remus’ head as a makeshift pillow. A shuddery sigh left Roman as he carefully adjusted Remus in what he hoped was a somewhat comfortable position.

He would have his second chance. He only hoped Remus would give it to him.

Roman took a few steps back to give Virgil his space. The sorcerer’s eyes lit up once more in a purple gleam, as he moved his hands lightly over Remus’ chest. Virgil softly started chanting healing spells, a songlike quality to his voice. Did Roman’s eyes trick him, or did Remus immediately look a bit better?

“Roman…” A soft hand was placed on his arm. Tearing his gaze away from his brother, Roman looked at Patton. His fiancé stared up at him with wide tear-filled eyes. A broken sob left him as Patton threw his arms around Roman’s waist. Roman immediately returned the embrace, tightening his arms around the shorter man. He buried his face into the soft curls and pressed desperate kisses on his love’s head.

“I thought I lost you…” Patton sobbed into his chest. “I thought- I thought I would become a widower before we ever got married! I thought-!”

“I’m here, dear heart,” Roman murmured, tears forming in his own eyes as well. “I’m okay. I got back to you. I’m here.”

Patton nodded and happily blubbered out something Roman didn’t quite hear. It didn’t matter. For one brief, beautiful moment all was well.

But of course, of course, the moment had to be broken. Roman heard the breathless crowd hurriedly part and footsteps approaching. One glance away from the safe haven of his fiancé’s curls confirmed who said footsteps belonged to. With a snarl Roman pulled himself reluctantly out of Patton’s embrace.

“Don’t come near him!” Roman growled. His parents stopped in their tracks.

“I’m not allowed to go near my own son?” Queen Nadia asked with a tremor in her voice, one delicate tear gliding down her cheek.

“No! No you’re not!” Roman said with a humourless laugh. “Glad you understand it so quickly!”

“He’s our son!” King Augusto protested. “We haven’t seen him for nearly a year!”

“And whose fault is that exactly??” Roman bit out. “If you had actually done what you promised you would instead of, oh I don’t know, lying to me, maybe, just maybe, you would have seen him a little sooner! Just a thought!”

“We didn’t lie!” King Augusto said. “We never lie to you!”

“YES YOU DO!!” Roman pulled at his hair. “You’re lying to me right now!” He didn’t want to have this conversation right now. He was tired. So, so tired…

“Come now Roman,” His mother smiled and held her arms out, stepping up like she wanted to embrace him. “How about you we talk about this in the morning, after we all had a good night’s rest after such a terrible day?”

“Don’t touch me!” Roman stepped back, trembling. He wanted to grab his sword to make sure these people never touched him again.

“Roman, you’re obviously stressed,” His mother said in a sweet, yet admonishing tone. She kept advancing in on him. “You’re not thinking clearly. How about you calm down first-”

Roman recognized the shivery crawl that shot up his leg and back before he saw Romeo the spider take his place on his shoulder. Queen Nadia stumbled back with a high pitched shriek as the tarantula hissed angrily at her. Roman let out a crazed little giggle as Romeo protectively hunched, waiting to jump on the face of the first person stupid enough to get closer. Wow, since when was a spider the size of his fist less frightening than his own mother touching him?

“Thanks, little buddy…” He whispered gratefully. Romeo clicked his mandibles happily in response.

“What is that thing?” The king asked in disgust as he eyed the spider.

“His name is Romeo,” Roman said. “And he’s not a thing!”

“Damn right!” Virgil said, briefly interrupting his healing.

“Stay out of this!” The queen said before turning back to Roman. “Sweetheart, this is all a big misunderstanding-!”

“It’s a misunderstanding that you didn’t even CONSIDER to look for Remus??” Roman snapped. “Or didn’t want to send out soldiers WHEN HE WAS RIGHT OUTSIDE THE DOOR???”

“Oh please forgive us for prioritising everyone else’s safety in this castle over one person!” The king barked. “Which that wasn’t an easy sacrifice to make!”

“Ohohohoho, that’s rich, coming from you!” Roman laughed bitterly. “You complete and absolute ASSHOLE-!!”

“Wait! Roman, sweetie! Stop!” Patton stepped in front of him, bravely ignoring Romeo in favour of smiling sweetly at Roman. “It’s okay! They’re right!”

Roman distinctly felt like someone kicked him in the stomach. “What…?” He whispered.

“They’re right! When you were gone, they explained everything to us! I promise you, it really was just a misunderstanding!” Patton said. “They can explain to you too, you just-”

“Pat-! Pat, NO. Not you too!” Roman grabbed him by the shoulders. “Don’t listen to them! This is what they do! They lie to your face and make themselves the victims! This is what they’ve always done!”

“But… But…” Patton stepped back, looking between Roman and his parents hesitantly. “They wouldn’t! It’s all just a big mistake, that’s all!”

“Patton, please!” Roman pleaded. Not him. Not his fiancé. “Listen to me!! I’ve lived- Or rather, survived- With them for years! They’re lying! Please believe me!!”

“He’s right, Pat.” Virgil said as he turned away from his healing to stand behind Roman for support. “They’re a bunch of liars. I can know, I have experience with those.”

Roman wanted to hug him, but kept his eyes focused on his love. Patton stared at him, chewing his bottom lip, again looking between him and the king and queen.

“But…” Patton said hesitantly. “I know them too! I thought-”

“It’s a façade, Pat!” Roman pressed on. “It’s not real!”

“Honey,” Queen Nadia said gently. “Maybe you should listen to your fiancé.”

“STAY OUT OF THIS!!” Roman screamed at her before looking at Patton. “Dear heart… Please.”

Patton looked around, first at Roman, then his parents, then at the crowd that stared and waited with bated breath, unconsciously loving the juicy gossip they were getting. Doubt tore him apart. He turned back to Roman. His fiancé, who looked torn up, hurt and scared. Patton’s tried to say something, anything, when his gaze flicked to a point behind Roman. His eyes widened. Roman frowned. What was-

“VIRGIL LOOK OUT!!” Patton screamed.

Roman heard a sickening whack. He whipped around in time to see Virgil tumble to the ground, blood trickling down his temple. The figure that loomed over him held a bloodied candelabra, which he had soundlessly picked up from the ground in the confusion. The figure chuckled.

“Whoopsies! That’s gotta hurt!” Remus giggled, swinging the candelabra around like a baton. Roman stood frozen to the ground. His eyes went from his knocked out friend, up to his brother who grinned and put a foot on Virgil’s back like he was prey he finally managed to kill. Romeo jumped down from Roman’s shoulder to run in panicked circles around his master, which were stopped when Remus kicked the spider away with another cackle. The spider smacked against a pillar, and didn’t move anymore when he fell down.

“You- Wait-!” Roman tried to make sense of what was happening, his mind flailing to catch up. He desperately searched for a hint of gold in his brother’s eyes, but they were the same dark brown as his own. “You were unconscious!” He finally blabbered out.

“Oh yeah… I was, wasn’t I?” Remus wiggled his shoulders mischievously. “Aren’t I a stinker?”

His mother caught on before Roman did. “GUARDS!!” She shouted. “GUARDS!!”

“Haha, nope!” Remus wagged a finger teasingly. “I don’t think so! This show is SOLD OUT!”

At the last word Remus’ eyes flared up in a bright green glow. One wave of his hand thrown towards the doors, and a current of green streams rushed itself through the crowd, webbing themselves over the door in an intricate glowing pattern. Barring anyone from coming in… And getting out.

“What the-?!” Roman gaped. “Remus, you-??”

“That’s right, bitches!!” Remus screeched. “I can do magic now!” He threw his arms wide, the green energy surging and pulsing around him and he laughed, a wild maniacal sound. Roman finally snapped out of his stupor.

“You-! But why-?!” He stammered.

“Why?” Remus looked Roman in the eyes. He barely recognized Remus in this crazed green-eyed creature. “To assist a very dear friend of mine, of course!”

“That thing in the mountains?! He tortured you!” Roman yelled.

“Oh, he definitely made me scream alright, but it was in a very different way than you think!” Remus giggled. He twisted his head, grinning at the sight of multiple guests running towards the doors and desperately trying to tear them open. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “Ah, the sweaty smell of sheer and utter panic… One of my favourites!” Remus giggled again, unable to hold back his mirth. “But not what I want right now! So everyone…” His eyes shot open, the green flashing even brighter. “LOOK. AT. ME!!”

His high-pitched scream overpowered the hysteria that had grabbed the crowd by their throats. All eyes turned to him in horrified silence. Remus shimmied under all the attention.

“Look at this!” Remus beamed. “What a reunion, huh?? And at such a killer party too! Although…” Remus made a show of looking around critically, caressing his moustache in exaggerated consideration. “I don’t know, I just feel like there’s missing something! Or should I say…” A big grin split his face in half as Remus’ eyes darkened with vengeful glee. “Someone.”

King Augusto’s face twisted in panic, which he in vain tried to cover up with anger. “Don’t you dare!” He screamed, fear lilting the edges of his voice as Remus only grinned wider. “You traitorous scum, don’t you dare-!!”

“DECEIT!!” Remus threw his head back and howled up at the sky. “Come on down here, you slippery snake! I OFFICIALLY INVITE YOU TO THIS PITY PARTY!!”

Thunder roared in triumphant response, so powerful that Roman felt it vibrate in his chest. The beautifully crafted glass stain windows cracked and shattered, dousing the screaming mass in splintered glass as they ducked for cover. Roman quickly grabbed Patton and pulled him towards the ground in a protective embrace, feeling the glass cut on his cheeks. Mist crept in through the shattered windows. The mist gathered itself on the steps that lead to the thrones, twisted, twirled in itself, before finally solidifying into an all too familiar cloaked figure.

The panicked cries of the crowd were interspersed by Remus’ cackle as he clapped his hands in delight. Deceit raised his head and took in the screaming people with disdain, before he reached up and snapped back his hood. Finally Roman saw the face of the warlock. He sucked in a breath. One word echoed through his head as Roman took in scales, furious two-toned eyes and fangs just barely visible in a loathing snarl.

Monster.

Before Roman could find his words, Remus ran and bounced up the steps with eager joy. He halted just one stair below Deceit.

“Did I do good, DeeDee?” Remus breathlessly asked. “Did I, did I??”

The warlock turned to Remus, and to Roman’s bewilderment his face immediately softened into something akin to tender fondness.

“Oh Remus,” Deceit cooed, as he gently caressed Remus’ face with one hand. “You did absolutely marvellous, my darling.”

Remus sighed happily as he melted into the contact with a soft moan, nuzzling his face into the hand and looking up at Deceit with what could only be described as lovesick adoration. Deceit smiled, then looked back at the huddled crowd. All softness in his face instantly died away.

“Now then,” Deceit said darkly. “What a day of reunions this is turning out to be.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #deceit sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts deceit #ts patton #ts virgil #ts remus #royality #romantic royality #the alternative chapter title: Romeo The Spider Finally Gets To Jump On Someone's Face

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fairiesherefairiesthere · 5 years ago

Text

Fraxus Anastasia au #4

Here it is on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144866

Preview: Once on the train, it's quickly made clear that Laxus will not be enjoying a delightful morning meal. Hell, he won't even be enjoying his morning at all. Something Laxus has never once thought of in his life is currently making said life miserable. He's motion sick and he can't even stand the plain smell of bread, so he's also banning the others from eating, dragging them along in his illfated anguish."Oh baby, I'm so sorry", Bickslow says somehow managing to sound amused and sincerely worried at the same time. "If we had known, we would have walked to Paris with you", he claims, patting Laxus' head. Evergreen snorts at that declaration and Freed flat-out says: "No. No we really wouldn't have. Don't give the princeling false hope like that." Laxus groans in response and completely out of it, he grumbles: "Shut up. Let me live the illusion of someone caring about me."

Fic under the cut!

Once on the train, it's quickly made clear that Laxus will not be enjoying a delightful morning meal. Hell, he won't even be enjoying his morning at all. Something Laxus has never once thought of in his life is currently making said life miserable. He's motion sick and he can't even stand the plain smell of bread, so he's also banning the others from eating, dragging them along in his illfated anguish.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry", Bickslow says somehow managing to sound amused and sincerely worried at the same time. "If we had known, we would have walked to Paris with you", he claims, patting Laxus' head. Evergreen snorts at that declaration and Freed flat-out says: "No. No we really wouldn't have. Don't give the princeling false hope like that." Laxus groans in response and completely out of it, he grumbles: "Shut up. Let me live the illusion of someone caring about me."

"Dramatic, aren't we?" Without giving him a chance to protest, Freed stands up from where he'd been seated with his friends. "Move over", he orders because the man apparently doesn't know how to ask things. Laxus complies, because he absolutely doesn't want to fight the man right now and mercifully, Freed doesn't lord it over him. Instead, he pats his lap and Laxus looks at the man's legs in confusion.

What does he want now? Sure, they're nice legs but he doesn't see why Freed would need to bring that up now. "Lay down, idiot." Dang, it's almost as if the man can read his thoughts. Deciding to not experience any more thoughts today, the idiot in question tentatively lays his head down.

Vaguely, he's aware of Freed carding his fingers through his hair and it makes him feel sort of warm and fuzzy. He wonders whether certain parts the other man allows his fingers to linger on are pressure points, because he feels a bit better, but also more sleepy. He blinks slowly and yawns. He thinks he can hear someone chuckle above him. "Why don't you take a nap?" a pleasantly deep voice asks and bonelessly, Laxus complies.

"Well well well, how the turntable-turns have tabled during this turn", Bickslow smugly states as he shoots Freed a wink. Freed shudders in disgust. "Don't open your mouth again. Ever." Pouting, Bickslow reaches over the table to poke Freed's cheeks. "But baby, I need to open my mouth to eat. I'll die otherwise." Slapping his hand away, Freed blankly stares at him. "I will not retract my statement. Repent."

Ah these truly are her boys, Evergreen thinks as she watches them converse without an ounce of intelligence being spilt into their talk. "So, what do we think about the young man currently residing in your lap? I personally think we're going to have to work very hard to pass him off as a royal. He's nice, but not exactly majestic."

"Neither is Makarov", Freed interjects and she reluctantly nods at that. "I suggest we go through with it." Out of his jacket's pocket, he plucks a pocket watch. "We've got this one and the lad over here has what seems to be the key to it. Not that we really needed it", he says as he puts the object back and briefly shows them the key they had ordered by a blacksmith. "It is a nice touch, though."

"How are we going to teach him his background? Amnesia isn't going to cut it", Bickslow muses and Freed smiles a wicked little smile. Lately, his smiles have been like that a lot and Evergreen wishes he would relax and enjoy himself for a while instead of playing this grotesque caricature of himself.

"We teach him through the power of suggestion. I don't think that he'd like classical teaching very much and more importantly, we have to sell him as the true prince. Give him tidbits here and there and let him glue the pieces himself. He'll think that he's remembering his life and will consequently come across as a genuine person in front of Makarov. We've got this you guys."

"Do we want to have him though?" Bickslow asks and for a moment, his usual tomfoolery has made for a seriousness that he doesn't often showcase. "Don't you think he deserves better than a couple of strangers lying to him? We're abusing his trust, you know." With each word, Bickslow had shuffled a bit closer to him and in the end, they were nearly nose to nose. Bickslow's eyes have this unnerving quality to them that makes it look as though they are able to see the deepest part of your soul and right now, Freed's exposed to the full extent of it. Evergreen feels a bit sorry for him.

That is until he opens his mouth. Freed's good with words and that makes the string of words that leaves his mouth only more insufferable. "So? People who believe lies and promises of love and family are practically asking to be deceited. The sooner one learns that, the better."

Bickslow leans back with an eyeroll. "Didn't you say that you suspected the prince is still alive? And didn't you call yourself 'the greatest detective' all those years ago? If you're so smart, why are you dragging him into this?"

"Well, the difference between me now and the past me, is that know I can admit that I'm stupid", ignoring the noises of agreement from her and Bickslow, Freed continues, "Secondly, he wanted to go to Paris, we're helping him." Bickslow barks out a laugh at that. "Sure Jan", he says and pats Freed on the shoulder. "Sure, sure."

A commotion outside their train compartment dissolves the tension between them and shifts their focus elsewhere. "I'll go look", Freed offers before gently getting up as to not wake Laxus. For someone who doesn't care for their ward, he's awfully considerate, going as far as shoving a scarf under his head before he darts out of the door.

As soon as Freed's out of sight, Bickslow brushes a part of his hair over his right eye. "Hur dur my name Freed, me no careth for anyone", he mocks their pseudo-brother and Evergreen stifles a laugh. "You know that's how he warms up to people right? One day one he'll hate you and one day two he'll tell you about the crimes he's comitted. He is like that."

"Still, I don't know what he's thinking lying to this man. I'm not sure I agree." Evergreen smiles whistfully at that. "That's because you and me have a history with the prince and Freed doesn't. We're looking for an old friend and who knows what Freed's looking for."

Evergreen remembers meeting Freed as though it was yesterday, mainly because of how similar they had been. She and Bickslow had been looking for anyone who could give them hints about the young prince's whereabouts and whether he was alive at all. But nobody wanted to give two snooty little kids like them the time of day, except for another snooty brat, laughing at them. "It's obvious that's he's still alive, dummies", he had said and she had kicked him in the shins before asking him who exactly he thought he was.

Surprise had flickered in his eyes (she still doesn't know why, but does it really matter?). He had proudly declared himself 'the world's best detective', which of course prompted both her and Bickslow to laugh at the tiny brat. Stomping his foot he had declared to lead them to their prince and well, would you look at the situation now? The boastful brat had become a brother to her, but there are times when she has no idea what's going on in his head. His past seems to be his greatest motivation to move forward, but it simultaneously seems to drag him back the most. It's a shame he doesn't want to talk about it.

Speak of the devil. Freed pops his head back in and his face betrays his troubled feelings. "Guys," he says and clacks his tongue, "There's a bit of a problem with our passports. They're in the wrong colour, so it's quite obvious that they're fake."

"Ah", Bickslow, the one in charge of making them helpfully says. "Oh dear", Evergreen adds, wanting to heighten the rising tension in the atmosphere and piss Freed off a bit. She didn't make those documents though, so have fun dealing with it Bix!

After two seconds of thoughts, Freed grumbles out his temporary solution. "Bix, the conductor is coming from the right, go stall him for a bit. Ask him where the toilet is or something, I don't care. Join us after ten minutes, we'll be waiting in the wagon where they store the heavy luggage. Let's move." Before either of them can ask what he's planning with their fourth member, Freed has already gathered him in arms. "This looks so suspicious", he sighs and Evergreen suggest: "I could cry a bit? Nobody asks a nice lady why they're crying. Nice ladies are respected."

"If only you were a nice lady", Freed can't help but chime in and she gives himan ice cold glare. "One day, I'll mix out your shampoo for a mixture of shampoo and bleach with a high enough percentage of shampoo so you won't be able to tell the difference but also a high enough dosage of bleach that your hair'll fall out." She yanks the door open after that, fortifying her threat and Freed quietly follows. Bickslow goes the opposite way.

Laxus wakes up feeling sicker than before. He retches and before he can actually vomit, he's dumped on the floor. A bucket quickly appears in his line of sight and luckily, it's quick enough. Throughout the act of rearranging his guts, somebody strokes his back and murmurs soft and encouraging words. That part is quite nice.

"What's going on?" he asks as soon as he's able to, which actually takes an embarassing amount of time. "Your royal highness, we saw it fit to move you to a more serene cabin", Freed says and Laxus takes the time to properly look around. "This is the bagage compartment", he dryly notes. "But it's more serene, right?" Freed retorts. Laxus wishes he could go back to sleep or put the other man to sleep (permanently).

Then it hits him. If they're hiding, that must mean something's wrong. And if there's something wrong, that means he can bully Freed for being an incompetent ass. "Say Freed", he says casually, "There wouldn't happen to be anything wrong, right? You, as my number one loyal servant, wouldn't allow that to happen. Surely you wouldn't put me in harm's way."

"Don't worry my prince, no harm will be inflicted to you except for the harm done by these hands", Freed snaps back and finally, finally Laxus is truly grating on the man's nerves. "Where is Bickslow?" he asks to let the man calm down so he can later rile him up again. "On his way here, he should be here about now."

As though his name had summoned him, Bickslow cheerfully joins the party. "Hey guys, who wants to play dress up with whatever we find in those bags?"

They don't get the chance to answer as the smell of fire alerts them to things not being quite right. Immediately, Bickslow opens the door he just came through only to discover that it isn't connected to the wagon in front of them anymore. Upon opening the door behind them, they find out that they aren't connected to that part of the train either. They are however, still hurling forward at an impossible speed.

"Looks like someone's trying to kill us. Bit of an overreaction to fraud if you ask me", Evergreen bemuses. "Find the source of the fire and put it out with wet cloth", Freed orders Evergreen and Bickslow. Laxus, you help me search for the brake."

It doesn't take long for Laxus to find the brake. It takes him an even shorter amount of time to break it. He had lost his balance due to a bump in the rails, grabbed onto the handle and broke it off. It had been a honest to God accident, like what Freed's going to make his death look like if they make it out of it.

"That wasn't a bump Laxus. That was a change of track. We're now unfortunately moving towards that." Calmly (how he does it, Laxus doesn't know), Freed points at a rotting bridge. "Dang, do I give my last words and epic I-love-you-guys-speach? By the way Laxus, you're included." Bickslow's words may be those of a bit of a lunatic, Laxus still feels oddly touched. Freed breaks the moment by rolling his eyes. "No idiot. Grab that rope over there and bind a shitload of crooked iron to it. Then we'll throw it on the tracks on hope it gets stuck somewhere."

Quickly they set to work, Evergreen, Bickslow and Laxus trying metal object to the rope as Freed instructs them with his level voice. The way he keeps his composure makes it easier for the rest of them to do the same. When Freed is satisfied with the result, he hands them all big coats and blankets before ordering them to throw their rope. "These are for breaking our fall, should the rope-trick not work." Laxus nods and breathes through his nose, trying to not let his eyes travel to the nearing bridge.

A hook on the rope gets stuck on the rails and without hesitation, Evergreen and Bickslow jump out. Laxus, thrown off by the sudden change in rhythm feels sick again. Within a second, the rope breaks and the shock throws him off his feet. Fuck, he's going to die.

"Laxus." The sound of his name draws his attention to Freed who offers him his hand, still so calm and composed. "We're going to have a bit of a harder landing, but we'll be alright I think. I'll count to three and we'll jump." Laxus nods and collects himself.

"One."

He takes the hand. Freed offered after all.

"Two."

And because Freed's an unpredictable asshole, he jumps and drags Laxus with him before they've even reached three.

"Three!" Freed yells before the world goes black.

#Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Fraxus #Evergreen fairy tail #Bickslow #fanfic #Anastasia au #TheFairyWrites

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