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zodiacrant · 4 years ago

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🍩My experiences with each Moon sign🍩

(Cause yall are messy)

I have done this a few times before but for Sun signs and did rank placements but never shared my thoughts and experiences with the Moon signs.

Now I know how this goes, so if you get mad or sad then go off I guess. Aint the first time I get cursed out or attacked in this bitch. Plus, I am a Cap moon so naturally I won’t do well with some Moons and I will be nitpicking everything about everyone.

🍩Aries Moon🍩

My dad’s moon. Yup, that tells you alot without me even starting. Having our Moons in Square shit was hard to say the least. It took a long time for us to be on middle grounds and because I don’t feel comfortable talking about my problems here I will continue on. The Aries Moon that I really like and can think of is Rihanna, so I would say it’s unfair to make a whole judgment but from what I saw and heard they’re not exactly the best to be around. So I give them a 3/10 for being bold and having nerve.

🍩Taurus Moon🍩

Now this Moon right here I know people from ( a close friend and my sister, plus some others) and I don’t have many strong opinions about it. As a Taurus Sun, it can be a challenge to work with a Taurus Moon. I am stubborn at my core and they’re stubborn with their heart, so everytime we disagree it’s like a rope pulling contest. Way too stagnant for me but I think that’s because of my other placements and they don’t take any advice or open up no matter what. On to the good, I never disliked someone with this placement. No matter how much of an asshole they can be, to me it is difficult to hate them or stay mad at them. They’re warm, kind, and sweet but a bit aloof and naive, also they don’t like to touch and hug as some people might think. I will give them a 8/10

🍩Gemini Moon🍩

(⚠️TW⚠️ mention of rape and erratic behavior)

I only had one best friend with this placement and I don’t I want to meet any more, and I am at peace with that if they resemble her in any way. She was a maniac. She loved to lie, create drama, blow shit up, act crazy and basically be shocking. I do find similarities with Gemini Sun where they do shit for reactions but with her, she will take it to the next level. Lie about being raped, act possessed, or pretend that she is being followed. It’s not fair to associate her with people who share the same Moon as her but that was y’all’s representation in my life. She was erratic so it’s difficult to see where her Moon was in effect and where she was just off. I’ll give them a 1/10, would not recommend until proven otherwise.

🍩Cancer Moon🍩

The first that comes to my mind is Taylor Swift and to me she is the ultimate Cancer Moon. It juat makes sense how fast she takes it to the next level with people. Whether getting serious quickly with someone or throwing down and feuding. She just always at a 100. Personally, I never got close with someone who has this placement, maybe it’s because I am a Capricorn Moon myself, but I would say the ones that I have met were nice. I’ll give them a 5/10

🍩Leo Moon🍩

I only had one best friend with this placement but the people I have met with this Moon I still remember. They all had one thing in common and that was being emotionally traumatized and have lost one parent. My best friend was super loyal, very confident in what they believed in and represented, were always there for me and had an amazing ability in motivating others. But they were also super prideful and there’s no coming back with them. Fight once and it’s over. (Yes I am looking at you Jonnie). One of the other people was with me in uni and always had the to urge won up me and my friend. He had scars all over and he doesn’t remember how he got them. But he was super proud of himself and his home country, which I respect and admire. I’ll give them a 6/10

🍩Virgo Moon🍩

I know two people with this placement, my mom and a professor at uni, and oh boy it makes sense that they’re a Virgo Moon. Me and my mom are too alike that we clash strongly at times. She thinks she can do it better and I think I can do it better and we just have like a competition on who done it better basically. From cooking, to how you light the stove, to how you put on clothes, to how you lay down on bed. Both my mom and my professor are super critical and precise, althogh my professor is a double Virgo (Sun and Moon) so she will go even further. They have to do everything as it arises and act like there’s no time and everything is about to go wrong. Like damn sis chill the fuck out for a sec and this is coming from a Cap moon so you know it’s bad. But I really like Virgo Moon, even though people might hate such a personality but I can relate to them in some ways. I’ll give them 7/10

🍩Libra Moon🍩

My only online friend that I talk to all the time got this Moon. Other than her I met only two people and they were something. Okay so for my friend, because I never actually have seen her physically with my own eyes I can’t say how she acts all the time, but she is one of the best listeners I had in my life. She likes to hear me ramble for an hour about a dumb encounter that lasted a second, talking about astrology and some nerdy things and then not so nerdy things. I believe that it’s a Libra Moon quality to be emotionally versatile and attentive. I think because she is a Leo dominant she acts much fiery and fiercely than a Libra would. As for the other people I just thought they were fake. One acted as a friend but then would just disappear so I was over it quickly and the other was super passive and pretentious that I think she shits out plastic. All in all I think it’s a great Moon. I’ll give them a 7/10

🍩Scorpio Moon🍩

One of the hardest Moons I ever delt with but I find that I love them too. My oldest sister had this Moon and she is such a mystery. Because I am a Taurus Sun, it is only natural for me to have a hard time with a Scorpio Moon. Even though she is an extrovert, she rarely talks about herself and her feelings, you will never catch her slipping or show vulnerability. I can see how difficult it may be for her being a Cancer with a Scorpio Moon and have Gemini dominance. But she’s a bitch at heart and I am cool with it. I’ll give them 5/10 cause I am not a big fan of paradoxical people

🍩Sagittarius Moon🍩

A moon that I always babysat. I had two best friends with this Moon and if I was born a second earlier, it would mine too. I don’t know if it’s because of my Gemini Venus or my 0 degree Capricorn Moon but I love Sagittarius Moons. I was fortunate to see some of their weaknesses and for them to trust me enough to be vulnerable. But boy do they get themselves into the dumbest situation because they wanted to see what would happen. I had to babysit them and help them do everything like shopping, cooking, cleaning, assembling furniture, be their body guard when buying weed. (Shhhh it’s a secret). They’re in many ways immature cause they run from things and everytime you try to be real with them, they say “stop being negative”. I’ll give them a 9/10

🍩Capricorn Moon🍩

The grande dame of the Moon signs, sitting at it’s opposite planet. I have met many Cap Moons and honestly we are bitches 😂. The energy of sitting next to a Capricorn Moon is too fucking much like I never knew it’s like that. I noticed the way they stare, talk, walk and sit can be so aggressive and intimidating. I see why people might label us as bullies, cause the energy is definitely there and I myself was such a cunt (still a little but I am more aware of myself now) that I get where both are coming from. Life as a Capricorn Moon is emotionally flat. If wasn’t for my other placements you will never see me even flinch. I think we just take everything and let it process in our head before we let it into our hearts. So to me, we’re not mean, we just don’t see how something might be hurtful. But also that tone and that blank face, goddam! That’s why I try to smile cause bitch no, I didn’t know I was walking with a death stare this whole time. Anyways, I will give us 10/10 cause I am self appreciative like that 😂✌️

🍩Aquarius Moon🍩

I have always tried to understand Aquarius Moon and it was only a month ago that I have realized they themselves are not sure of who they’re. I had one best friend with this placement and three cousins (all siblings). First, my cousins are super competitive with each other on who gets to do what and if it happens that they’re similar in something they will get pissed. The person that was my best friend was like that as well. Only he would drop a an entire hobby, interest, something close to his heart, shit even a personality trait. I find them to be constantly changing and trying, so they shift between one end of extreme to the other until they center themselves. I’ll give them a 4/10

🍩Pisces Moon🍩

Now let’s talk about a depressing placement, in my opinion of course 😅. I don’t know if it’s the influence of Neptune on the Moon or is it the just the demeanor of Pisces, but good god girl get a grip (they call this the five G’s). My youngest sister is a Pisces Moon, and as creative as she is, she is pessimistic and overly cynical. I mean I am all for being critical and real but looking at everything with jacked up black sprayed glasses is just too much for me. Other than my sister I don’t know any Pisces Moon very well but I had a few acquaintances. I noticed that they talked about a specific thing and that’s it. I have found them to be amazing at drawing, painting and have an incredible artistic sense. At times twisted and dark, but I love the art that comes with it. I’ll give them a 5/10

Here’s the tea. It’s Pisces season so remember I am sensitive right now, and also it’s my life and I wish I met someone as amazing as you might think you’re. (Maybe that was a little too aggressive)

Okay love you ❤️

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sweetie-sire · 2 years ago

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Ayo i wrote some hizzie garbage 🗑 im both sleep deprived and tired of life so whatevr have at it wolves.

Its not good so lol but this tag is dead af so idk

Also dodie is sad af

~i can finally see ~

"I dont understand how you always manage to choose her side josie" im enraged beyond what i thought i could ever possibly be and my naive idiot little sister doesnt manage to get it through her thick little skull. Mikaelson is gone.

"No lizzie YOU dont understand, shes just lost she needs us now more than ever! How can you not see that?!" Shes been at this for the past 20 minutes and quite frankly its getting old.

"Jo, all i see is our dearest dad finally finding out the prodigal daughter is just an evil coniving bitch" i see josie flinch at the dry humor but i no longer care.

~youre as fucked up as me~

Josie gets up and walks out of the room, before she exits she turns to me "I get that youre hurt lizzie but you need to remember why hope even resorted to this in the first place. She gave up her life and landons life just to make sure everyone else would be ok." I can see that bringing up landon hurts my sister there are tears in her eyes and im so tired of everyone bringing up deceased bird boy, since he will probably just find a way to come back anyway.

"Yeah well maybe we can go ask dad if we should forgive hope then!" I yell but shes already left and my snark is useless and i feel so frustrated i could tear my hair out.

~so how do we win?~

Josie has once again taken upon herself to go chasing after our long lost tribrid trying to find a way to help her or whatever. I know just the way to help hope.

Cleo sowande is my very own personal hero right now.

~brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth~

Im driving from dead end to dead end and all i can manage to think about is hopes stupid evil "im a Mikaelson fear me" face and scoff

The balls on this bitch.

I pull up on a trail i picked up and the feeling of this dive bar is more unsettling than the last. I walk in and instantly feel the need to relieve my stomach of its contents.

Theres body parts and blood everywhere. Some guys head chopped off by a pool table. Brutal i dont even know how nobody has been in here to clean up the mess. Oh a concealment spell nice to know she cares about some things i guess. She could have at least lit the place on fire.

~im sick of losing soulmates so where do we begin?~

"Why would i burn my own room down Lizzie"

"With my family history im not exactly immune to those issues. I would never say that stuff about you"

I scoff remembering that and for some reason the back of my throat feels tight.

Josie may be right she might need help, but i cant find it in me to see the same girl thats understanding and i have grown to begrudgingly tolerate to be the one leaving a trail of bodies up and down the coast.

She mauled my dad whats stopping her from doing the same to the rest of us.

And i might have grown to love her too but josie is too soft to do what needs to be done.

Someone has to stop her.

~time and hearts will wear us thin so which path will you take~

I dont know what the fuck possessed me to say that idiocy. Impending death? Minute insanity? I can see the little gears in her tiny evil head turning

Theres a spark of someone i used to know flicker through her eyes.

And i see it the moment the hurt flashes in her mind what she went through to get to this point. I see her intent

The resolve. To end me. What did i expect?

Some sick twisted voice in my head tells me to keep going and see if i can reach her.

I slowly try to approach her and my voice is cracking i dont even know what im saying anymore

I see it in her eyes whatever hope was left is gone

Ironic

Before she has a chance to snap and as soon as i feel her hands wrap around my neck i rush forward

I close my eyes and say fuck it.

God i must really be crazy.

Her lips are unmoving but still soft i must have caught her by surprise because im still alive so i press on and i can feel her reciprocrate for a second and theres relief in my heart that maybe this will all turn out ok. Due to an unconsensual kiss of all fucking things.

Its something i never really considered doing while i was on my way here but minute insanity must have won over my fried brain.

I sigh as i feel soft hands tighten around my neck and it all goes black

Thats going to be one awkward as fuck conversation when she realizes im not actually dead.

Whatever serves her right.

*insert dodie lyric cuz im cant be bothered to do it*

+ lizzie wakes up and is super cool about it while hope is a crying mess on the floor cuz she killed this bombshell and sassy lizzie is everything.

#hizzie #lizzie saltzman #hope mikaelson be like #legacies #rant #creative crying #i really hate posting fics on here cuz my gf follows me and thats fucking embarrassing but i need this fandom to stay alive.#i dont care if i have to do it myself one shitty fic at a time #fuck julie plec

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years ago

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too soon to tell, chapter t w o

You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.

You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.

“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.

“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.

“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”

You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.

“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.

“Apparently not.”

She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”

“What is?”

“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”

She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.

Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.

“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”

“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”

“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.

“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”

“But you want to move in with him.”

“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”

Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”

“Shut up! Are you serious?!”

“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”

She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”

“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”

“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”

“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He’s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you love him,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.

“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”

She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.

“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”

You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.

“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”

“And?”

“Was it weird?”

“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?

People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.

Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?

Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?

“When will you hear back about the job?”

“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”

You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.

“Do you want it?”

You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.

“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”

Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”

You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.

But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?

Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?

She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.

“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”

She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.

Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.

She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.

It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.

You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.

“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.

“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”

“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”

Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.

“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”

You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.

You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.

“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.

“You seem--off.”

You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…

Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.

He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.

“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”

He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You don’t know?” He pressed.

You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”

He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.

You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.

But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.

He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”

It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.

His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.

Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?

He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”

You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.

You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s that?”

Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.

You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.

“What’s happening, are you okay?”

“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.

“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”

“It’s in Los Angeles.”

His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.

He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.

Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”

“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”

“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.

“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”

“Probably for a good reason--”

“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”

“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. “I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“What’s the eye roll for?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”

“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.

The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.

It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.

When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.

“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.

“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.

“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.

“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.

Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.

“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.

“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”

He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”

Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.

“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”

Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”

“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”

“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”

“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.

“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.

“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.

The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”

He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.

You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”

“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.

“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”

Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.

“What’s going on with him?”

You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”

“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.

“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”

“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.

“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.

Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”

“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”

“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”

With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.

Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”

“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”

“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.

Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.

“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.

“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”

Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”

“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.

Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”

Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.

“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.

Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.

Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.

“I’ll just drop you at yours?”

“Oh--yeah, sure.”

“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.

You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”

“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.

Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”

“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”

“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”

“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”

You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.

“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”

He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”

You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.

Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?

You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.

A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.

You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.

A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.

Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!

You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.

He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.

So far, his list was as follows:

Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)

Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview

Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.

It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.

Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.

You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.

“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”

She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.

They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.

“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”

You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.

You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.

She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”

You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”

She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”

“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”

“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”

“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”

“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”

She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.

“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”

You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”

She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”

“Is there somewhere you want to start?”

She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”

“To what?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”

“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.

“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”

She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

“How would you want to see it change for the better?”

“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.

“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.

“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”

She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”

You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.

“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”

She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”

“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.

“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”

“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”

“Everyone started to care more about you?”

“Exactly.”

You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.

She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”

The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.

You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.

You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”

“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”

“Did you talk about that?”

“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”

Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.

“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.

You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.

He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.

You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.

“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”

He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."

You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"

You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”

“Do you mean with my album?”

“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”

“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.

Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.

“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”

“S’not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.

“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.

“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.

“What?”

“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”

“And what about us?”

“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”

You sighed, unsure what to say.

"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."

You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.

Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?

But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.

A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.

But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.

You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?

Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.

You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.

And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.

They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.

You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.

“I can’t take it,” you said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”

“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”

“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.

You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.

“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”

You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.

Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.

Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.

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AN: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger......except I'm not sorry lmao

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redhairedwolfwitch · 4 years ago

Text

Until Dawn Rewrite - Werewolf vs Wendigos - Beth Washington x Thiam!Daughter!Reader - AU

A/n: Back on the bullshit of a video game from 2015? More likely than you think. Crossing Until Dawn over with Teen Wolf? More likely than you think too.

The original events of Teen Wolf occur way earlier for reader to be born in 1996/1997 to Thiam, in a world where it’s normal to have two fathers in that time *rolls eyes at society*

You’d been crushing on Beth Washington since the first day you met her, but you hadn’t realised until years later when Sam and Josh had been teasing you about it.

Your crush got worse after one summer when you were 16 and you underwent a supernatural change that you hadn’t told any of your friends about.

You were in the kitchen with Beth when she found the note to lure Hannah up to the guest room.

Josh and Chris were both passed out on the counter, drunk off their asses.

“Jeez Josh... once again brother, you’ve out done us all.” Beth remarked, leaving you to chuckle as you poked Chris.

“Oh my god.”

“What’s up?” You asked, walking over to see what Beth was looking at.

“What’d our naive sister get herself into now?” Beth glanced at Josh, passing you the note as you tsked.

“They really can be horrible sometimes.” You growled, looking up as Beth gasped at Hannah going past the window.

“Shit, Beth, it’s a snowstorm out there!” You exclaimed as Beth ran to Josh, trying to wake him up.

“Josh! Josh! Josh! Fuck!”

You were out of the kitchens door first when you heard Beth.

“Guys! There’s someone outside!”

“What the hell?” You mumbled, passing Beth her coat as she ran ahead of you.

“What’s going on? Where’s my sister going?”

Beth’s questions had you glancing out into the snowstorm, trying to subtly sniff out her trail.

“Ugh, it’s fine, she just can’t take a joke.” Jess grumbled, leaving you to stare at Mike.

“It was just a prank, Han!” Emily shouted out into the snow.

“What did you do?” Beth asked, noticing how you were slowly edging towards the path Hannah took.

“They were idiots, that’s what.” You growled, glaring at Mike as he spoke.

“We were just messing around, Beth, it wasn’t serious, Y/n.”

“What’s serious is that she could freeze to death, you asshole!”

Punching Mike wasn’t a great idea since your strength was at supernatural level, the crack everyone heard from your fist hitting Mike’s nose made that obvious.

You hadn’t heard Beth run after Hannah, calling them all jerks until you were being pulled back by Matt.

“I think my nose is broken, ugh, what the hell Y/n!” Mike snapped but you’d shoved Matt away to glance out into the snow to track Beth.

“Sam, nobody else follows me. Call for help if we aren’t back.” You stated, ignoring how Sam had grabbed your wrist as you ran into the snow.

“Y/n! You’re not wearing shoes!”

It didn’t matter what path Beth took after Hannah, you could track them both.

Something else was tracking them too though.

You heard it.

So you let out an animalistic warning noise, loud enough that the people at the lodge heard.

“Was that a wolf?” Ashley asked, but her question went ignored.

“Jesus, fuck, shit. Jesus, Hannah, where are you?” Beth muttered to herself, glancing around after dodging the herd of deer.

Beth wasn’t hard to track, you knew her scent.

But the smell of burning wood detered you until you heard the flamethrower and Beth muttering to herself.

“What the hell was that?”

“Hannah! Hannah! Hannah!”

“Hello?”

“Oh my god, you must be freezing!”

You heard them reunite but it wasn’t long after that you realised you needed to do something else.

You needed to protect them from whatever was hunting them.

You heard them scream so you ran faster, feeling your body shift into a more wolfish version as you ran on all fours like that was normal for you.

You saw the figure blasting fire at the creature, so you jumped at the cliff edge as the branch Beth was holding began to snap.

A scream left Beth’s lungs as your teeth clamped around her wrist, her eyes widening when she met your eyes.

You weren’t strong enough to hold up both Beth and Hannah as your grip on the cliff had you sliding off.

The last thing you saw was Beth and Hannah falling.

You were screaming.

Howling.

///

You woke up briefly when Sam found you on the doorstep at the back door, calling out to the others.

“Oh my god!”

“They’re freezing!”

“Y/n!”

“We need to get them inside!”

“Are Hannah and Beth with them? Y/n! Where the hell are my sisters!” Josh screaming didn’t help as you kept shaking, struggling to breathe as your teeth chattered.

“Josh! They’re in shock.”

“How the hell did you make it back? Y/n?”

“I, I can’t, can’t, remember...” You mumbled, ignoring Mike as you shuffled closer to Sam and Ashley.

“What happened to Beth and Hannah?”

Chris’ question wasn’t the best to ask as you began to gasp for air, the memories were hazy but one thing was for sure.

You remembered the screams before it all went black and you passed out.

“Did they just-”

“Oh crap!” Sam swore, realising immediately you’d fainted.

///

Even the idea of returning to Blackwood Mountain a year later made you want to throw up.

Sam had to persuade you after Josh guilt-tripped you about the twins’ disappearance.

You never told anyone that the memories had cleared up in your nightmares.

You knew Josh was experiencing more than grief when you saw him.

The chemosignals made you want to be sick but you played it off as feeling nauseous over the cable-car ride up.

The signals alone were enough to send you spiralling.

Sam had suggested you take a nap after someone got a fire going so you could keep warm.

Josh agreed, setting one up so you could curl up on a couch.

You didn’t know that was part of Josh’s plan so he could try get you to talk about what really happened to Hannah and Beth.

You didn’t know, because you were napping until Sam was throwing things and running around in a towel.

“Sam? What the hell is going on?”

“Hello.”

You sensed him behind you before you saw him, jumping up to stand on the couch as you took in the overalls and the skull clown mask and wig.

Tilting your head to the side, you stared at him as his scent and chemosignals prompted your realisation.

“What the fuck are you doing, Josh?”

“Josh is dead. And you’re next.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to try and fail, Josh.”

He growled at that, walking with a fury towards the couch but you jumped over it, tilting your head to the side and trying to not glow your eyes or shift.

You’d spotted a glint of a camera when you had sat on the couch, but it didn’t occur to you that everything recorded would be on the internet until you almost shifted.

Sam had escaped him by hiding in the dumbwaiter; ending up in the basement looking for clues. So that left him to set his sights on you.

“You’re doing this fuckfest of a prank because of Beth and Hannah.” You realised, dodging the blade he was holding.

“You feel guilty because you were so drunk you couldn’t move when Beth tried to wake you. You blame yourself and you blame the others because of that stupid prank. Well, guess what Josh, I blame myself because I didn’t catch them in time.”

“Catch?”

“I heard them scream, I ran over but I couldn’t reach, something grabbed me and I remember screaming then everything went black. I woke up on the porch.” You explained before gasping as Josh stabbed you in the arm with something.

“Motherf-”

///

“Oh my god!”

“What did you do to Y/n?”

You could hear Chris and Ashley before you saw them, opening your eyes to see them looking at you from where you were on the floor.

“Girl acted cocky, but she was easy to-” The Psycho taunted them, pausing as Sam and Mike rushed in.

“Jesus-” Mike was cut off as he heard ropes snapping, leaving everyone to stare at you as you stood up, completely unphased.

“How did you... that doesn’t matter-” The Psycho was cut off as Chris tried shooting him.

“Oh, Chris, Chris, Chris, you’ve heard of blanks before? I mean really?”

Your face was unreactive when Josh removed the mask, revealing himself as The Psycho.

You ignored how everyone reacted, using your claws to cut through the ropes holding Ashley in her chair as Sam tried to help Chris.

“Oh, well done, every one of you, you got my name!” Josh laughed, leaving you to gag at the chemosignals.

“How does it feel? I mean, do you enjoy feeling terrorised? Humiliated? I mean, panicked? All those emotions that my sisters got to feel once a year ago? Only guess what? They didn’t get to laugh it off! No! Nope! No! No! No! They’re gone!” Josh yelled, leaving you to tense your shoulders, ignoring how Sam had tried to check on you.

“I don’t know if you noticed this. Josh, but none of us are laughing.” Mike retorted, gaining your attention as you smelt a familiar scent on him that wasn’t his or Jessica’s.

“-It’s good to get the heart racing every now and then. And race they did, every one of you, pitter-pat, pitter-pat-”

“Every now and then? Mine hasn’t stopped since that night, I still get nightmares, I literally hear their screams, I remember the fire, I remember the taste of blood in my mouth, you think I could laugh that off!” You exclaimed, ignoring how Josh just laughed.

“You should have seen your faces! Hook line and sinker for every little stinker!” Josh exclaimed, jumping as you growled at him.

“Well he’s definitely off his meds-” Chris replied to whatever the hell Mike said that you missed.

“That and on the wrong ones entirely. Ever heard of comorbidity? Two or more conditions occuring at once with similar symptoms, can lead to misdiagnosis.” You replied, folding your arms to hide how your claws hadn’t retracted.

“Oh come on, you guys! Revenge is the best medicine!”

“You’re done!” Mike shouted, not seeing how you let out a breath, unfolding your arms to rest your hand on Ashley’s shoulder, claws returning to fingernails.

“Mike, he’s sick!” Chris exclaimed, turning his head to face Mike before looking back at Josh.

“Your fingerprints were all over this Josh, it was obviously you.” Sam’s voice was calm as she talked to Josh, unlike Mike who was raging.

“Oh really? Really, really really?” Josh rambled but Sam just kept talking.

“You’re crying out for help, Josh. Come on, you wanted to get caught, didn’t you?” Sam prompted but Josh just stared at her.

“What? Come on, you guys are all going to thank me when you guys become internet sensations!”

“Wait, what, what?” Chris mumbled before Sam grabbed your hand as you began to walk over to the visible camera.

“Oh, you guys better believe this little puppy is going viral ladies and germs. I mean we got unrequited love, obstruction of justice from Y/n over there, we got, we got blood. I don’t think there’s enough hard-drives in China to count all the views we’re going to get, you guys!”

“What are you talking about, you asshat? Jessica is dead-”

“Mike. Why do you smell like Beth?” Your question caught everyone off-guard as Mike punched Josh in the face, knocking him out.

“What?”

“Y/n?”

“Why do you smell like Beth?” You asked again but Mike ignored you, leaving Ashley and Sam to try get you to calm down, instead they backed away as your eyes glowed and you stood away from them in the corner.

///

After Chris and Mike took Josh outside, Ashley decided to ask the big question as the three of you returned to the lodge.

“Y/n, what happened to you that summer when you were 16? You changed dramatically, also, what’s with the smell thing and your eyes-”

“Some of my family got into a car accident. You saw it on the news, a lorry ran a red and they were gone. The stress of losing them activated something. Something genetic.”

“Something genetic, what was you talking about?” Sam asked, disbelief laced in her voice as Ashley remembered the story on the news and began to put the pieces together.

“You’re a werewolf.”

You sighed, nodding as you glowed your eyes and flicked your wrist, momentarily revealing your claws.

“Be lucky it’s not a full moon, the anger from the fuckfest that Josh pulled would have revealed it a lot earlier. I’m sorry I never told any of you, I wanted to, but then Beth and Hannah, oh god, if only I wasn’t so pathetic, I could have saved them both.”

“What are you talking about?” Ashley prompted as Sam just frowned, her hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, you’re not pathetic-”

“I literally had Beth’s wrist in my mouth because I was slipping off the fucking cliff. Something was hunting us that night and someone with a flamethrower was hunting it too. That blood in my mouth I can taste when I remember? It’s Beth’s blood. I pinned my arms into the cliff but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.” You whimpered, head in your hands as Ashley and Sam stared at each other, realising what had happened.

“I told those two Rangers that they should search the mines. I don’t know what happened after that.” You admitted, tensing as Chris returned.

///

“Let me in! Let me IN!”

“Is that-” Ashley began but Sam cut her off, running to the door.

“It’s Em!”

“Let her in! Quick!” Chris exclaimed, opening the door.

“Shut the door! Oh my god! Shut the door!” Emily yelled as she fell in the doorway, shuffling away from the door as Ashley and Sam helped her up.

“Em, you alright?”

“I didn’t think I’d make it.” Emily admitted, shuffling further into the lodge.

“You were screaming bloody murder.” Chris stated, noticing how you were staring at the door, tilting your head to the side to listen, ignoring the conversations on the couch.

“I was walking in the dark, and I found this pile and there was a head with a Ranger hat on it-”

“No, no, no, no, no-” You perked up then, realising what happened.

“I told those Rangers to search the mines because that’s where I saw Beth and Hannah fall into.”

“What, you saw them fall?” Chris began but Sam had already sprung into action, wrapping her arm around you to calm you down as you hyperventiltated.

“Listen, in the tower, there was a radio and I, I got through to someone, but that was right when the tower collapsed!”

You didn’t hear Mike run in, you were busy using Sam as a comfort blanket, your face pressed into her shoulder.

“Em! You made it!”

“Oh god, Mike-”

You removed your head from Sam’s shoulder when you smelt another scent you knew, darting towards the door before anyone could stop you.

“Y/n, what the fuck-”

///

“You shouldn’t have been so quick to open the door... wait, it’s you.” The Stranger recognised you instantly, but you didn’t react to him, charging at his accomplice as you recognised her.

“Hannah!”

“How did you... oh, you could smell me, couldn’t you?” Hannah replied, noticing how you’d began to cry.

“There’s no time for tears, Y/n, come on.” Hannah coaxed you inside where The Stranger was dealing with Chris and Mike.

“Holy shit-”

“I’m here to tell you what you’re up against on this mountain. You should have never returned. I don’t know why you did after everything last year.” The Stranger grumbled, using his flamethrower to light the fire.

“You mean with Hannah and Beth-”

“I remember you, you were there. You pulled me back from falling off the cliff.” You burst out, leaving everyone to go silent as The Stranger grunted.

“Falling? You were about to jump off the damn cliff.” You feel silent after that, feeling Hannah and Sam stare at you for a moment.

“This mountain belongs to the Wendigo.”

“Who?” Chris asked, sitting up as Sam looked confused. “What’s he talking about?”

“Now I’m only going to tell you this once. It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. I got reasons I want to... get it off my chest.”

“See I told you-”

Your growl cut Mike off, spooking everyone except Hannah and The Stranger, who didn’t react.

“There is a curse. That dwells in these mountains. Should any man or woman resort to cannabalism in these woods, the spirit of the Wendigo shall be unleashed.”

“Oh crap.” Mike whispered as he remembered what he’d seen earlier in the night.

“You’re going to need to find somewhere safe and keep the werewolf with you if you want any chance of survival.” The Stranger instructed, staring at you as Chris, Emily and Mike looked confused.

“The basement might be okay.” Sam suggested, leaving The Stranger to nod.

“Okay. Get down there, now. All of you. And wait.”

“What? Why? And for how long?” Sam asked, gaining a reply from Hannah and Emily.

“Until dawn.”

“Guys, I ran out and left Josh when I heard screaming.” Mike realised, leaving everyone to look at him in shock.

“Where did you leave him?”

“In the shed.” Mike answered The Stranger’s question, who looked grimly in response.

“Your friend will already be dead-”

“What? Josh? No...” Hannah began, panicking as you stood up, heading to the basement as Chris argued to save Josh.

You were sat on the floor when Sam, Ashley, Mike, Emily and Hannah walked in.

“Hannah, where’s Beth? I know she’s alive, I smelt her scent on Mike.” You stated, leaving Emily to give Mike a warning look as he raised his hands in a confused surrender.

“When you tried to save us, you bit Beth’s arm. She was badly injured in the fall but since it was the full moon the next night, she didn’t die, instead, she turned. She turned into a wolf and hasn’t been able to turn back since. We managed to get out of the mines and ran into Jack, but, I couldn’t go home with Beth like that.” Hannah explained, leaving Mike to realise.

“There were wolves at the Sanatorium.”

You just rolled your eyes at this, wrapping your arms around your knees as Hannah just stared at you.

“Beth’s out there somewhere, I think she smelt something but now that I think about it, I think she smelt you when you arrived with Sammy.” Hannah explained as the others looked through The Stranger’s belongings.

Luckily Hannah had been able to de-escalate a potential situation, explaining that Wendigo bites didn’t turn anyone and that only happened with werewolves and fictional supernatural creatures like vampires and zombies.

“Wait, so Y/n can turn other people into werewolves by biting them?” Emily asked, slightly freaking out as you looked boredly at her.

“You’re not my type, Em. Also I’m not going to go around biting people, I didn’t even know I could do that when I tried to help Beth.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that was the only reason Beth survived the fall, Y/n.” Hannah deadpanned, noticing how you were shaking as Sam sat next to you, leaving Ashley to follow as they passed The Stranger’s book back to Hannah.

///

After Mike left to find Josh for the cable car keys, Sam, Chris, Emily and Ash went after him.

You and Hannah stayed behind, much to their reluctance but you knew Beth was out there somewhere.

You didn’t know that Mike had found wolf!Beth and Wolfie when he returned to the Sanatorium, after running from a Wendigo and barricading the door, only wolf!Beth followed Mike down the hole, Wolfie instead deciding to stay behind, safe in the barricaded room.

///

“We should have gone with them.” You admitted, leaving Hannah to sigh.

“I’m sorry Hannah, about everything, I-”

Your apology was cut off as Chris, Emily and Ashley ran through, leaving the two of you to follow as you realised what was happening.

The five of you ran out of the basement, the other three yelling as you all bumped into Mike and Sam as wolf!Beth had remained outside.

You were all upstairs, attempting to leave the lodge until you spotted the Ranger!Wendigo on the chandelier.

You all froze as the Wendigos began to fight each other, the Ranger!Wendigo winning as Mike and Sam made a plan.

Sam kept the wendigos distracted as Mike broke a bulb, it was only when the Ranger!Wendigo screamed in Sam’s ear that you growled back, gaining it’s attention so it went over to you instead of Sam.

Chris, Emily and Ashley were already out at this point, you had a sick feeling Sam was now deaf in one ear thanks to the screech but you stayed still, leaving the wendigo to shift away from you as Hannah slipped out.

Mike was lingering near the door as the wendigos switched between you and Sam, before you shoved Sam out of the way, shifting to attack the wendigo and send it flying into the Ranger!Wendigo, who killed it.

You shifted back and ran at this point, Mike and Sam were outside when they heard the explosion, seeing your body fly out of the door as you’d hit the switch with your claws.

“Holy-”

“Y/n!”

You’d managed to sit up when something tackled you, a hand on your cheek as you opened your eyes to stare into the eyes of a human Beth Washington, a lot more scruffy than you remembered. You didn’t have much of a chance to stare at her though as she pressed her lips to yours, kissing you roughly.

“Beth! You’re, you’re naked!” You exclaimed as the two of you broke apart, quickly shedding your jacket and hoodie to cover her.

The screech of the Wendigo spirit leaving the burning lodge had you panicking, noticing it almost flying at Sam and Mike as it left the flaming structure.

“Sam!” You shouted, watching as Sam and Hannah ran over, dodging the spirit in the process.

“Beth! Oh my god!”

Everyone stared up at the helicopter hovering over the lodge as you stood in a t-shirt with Beth and Hannah on either side of you, Beth holding your hand tightly as Hannah had a hand on your shoulder.

It was then that you looked over at Mike to ask.

“Mike! What happened to Josh?”

“We have visual. The main structure is completely destroyed, over.”

“Hold on, I’m seeing something. It looks like there are survivors.”

“Let’s pick ‘em up.”

///

The shock finally overtook everyone when you were sat on the helicopters.

You’d zoned out, staring at the floor as Beth and Hannah mourned over what had happened to Josh in the mines.

You stayed zoned out until you were in an interview room and a policeman was trying to ask you questions.

They had to practically pry you away from Beth, the two of you almost growling at the idea before you remembered the police are idiots with guns.

“Y/n, why did you tell those two Rangers to check the mines last year?”

“I saw the twins fall off the cliff down through a hole. I thought they’d find them, even find their bodies but, something went wrong-”

“What’s wrong is you’re interviewing these teenagers without a lawyer present!” The voice was loud enough that the other survivors heard, noticing how Beth had sat up, sniffing the air slightly.

“Another wolf?” Hannah prompted but the question was already answered.

“Dad!”

The others exchanged looks as they heard your voice, not recognising the man as your father as they’d met your other dad instead years ago.

“You’re interrupting the interview, sir-”

“Theo Raeken. Y/n’s father.”

“Y/n’s surname is Dunbar.” the policeman replied, not knowing his mistake as Theo glared at you tensed up.

“Legally, it’s Dunbar-Raeken. this interview is over, all of the recovered victims from Blackwell Mountain should be in hospital, there’s one out there missing fingers and two of the girls out there were reported missing a year ago!” Your father exclaimed, leaving the policeman to just timidly nod, moving to order a hospital transport.

“Hi dad.” You mumbled, tensing as your father looked at you, watching his eyes soften.

“God, you remind me so much of Liam. C’mon, we should help your friends.” Your father replied, offering you his hand.

He smirked as he spotted how you automatically went to Beth, but said nothing, instead chosing to help Mike with Jessica.

146 notes · View notes

staticscreenwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Wonderful tonight // F.M.

Synopsis: Reader is Pope’s sister and her and Frankie have been dancing around each other for years. Now Pope is getting married and emotions are running high and Frankie and Reader are both single at the same time for the first time ever. It’s all about the longing, the yearning.

A/N: This entire thing was inspired by that picture of Pedro in the header and how handsome he is. This is my first time writing for this fandom and I rewrote this story about 5 million times. If you like it let me know if you don’t then you can also let me know if you want. I did run this through spellcheck but it’s not really edited. I don’t have the time, honestly. Just ignore mistakes, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ One day I’m gonna stand right over there. I’m gonna wear an expensive suit and shiny shoes. I’m gonna get my hair done real nice, and probably have a flower pinned to my jacket. My hands will be clammy and my heart will be racing. There will be flowers, lots of them, all over the garden. We'll have a musician playing acoustic guitar. All my friends will be there, and — and our entire crazy family. And I’m gonna get married to the love of my life. Right here. And things will be good. People will be happy.”

“ Mom will probably be crying. “

“ Oh for sure. “

As she steps out into the garden, (Y/N) can’t help but let her mind wander back to that one summer night a long time ago. Pope was fresh out of high school then, about to move out and start the rest of his life, away from home. Nights like these, sitting in the garden of their childhood home and sharing silly stories and hopes and fears, were numbered. That’s the thing about having siblings, it really only occurs to you how important they are to you when you’re faced with the idea of a life without them. So they sat there, on the steps of the porch, ice-cold cans of coke in hand and hearts open and vulnerable. Pope had never shared any of his dreams with her, not like this at least. But maybe him leaving home made him feel nostalgic too.

Her eyes meet his across the aisle and he smiles at her with his signature Santiago Garcia smile, the one that’s gotten him out of so much trouble when he was younger, the one that looks so much like their mother’s. An ocean of flowers surrounds him, just like he said it would. And their entire crazy family has taken their seats, ready to watch him get married to the love of his life. (Y/N) has always been proud of her brother's achievements, in and outside of the army. But she’s never been more proud than today.

Will softly links his arm with her’s as they walk down the aisle to take their respective places as bridesmaid and groomsman. The air is filled with the soft melodic strumming of an acoustic guitar and the perpetual scent of peonies. The rational part of (Y/N)’s brain knows that life isn’t like the movies but maybe, she thinks, sometimes life grants us a little moment in which we get to relish in a bit of that magic that makes those films so enchanting.

Just as she’s predicted all those years ago, her mother is crying. Big happy tears roll down her blushed cheeks. If we’re being entirely honest, neither (Y/N) nor their mother had really believed they’d ever see Pope up there, wearing an expensive suit and shiny shoes and waiting for the love of his life to walk down the aisle so he can marry her and start their happily ever after. Then again, ever since he was little Pope always found a way to get the things he wanted if he only set his mind to it. The sky was and still is the limit for her brother and that is something (Y/N) is infinitely envious of and wonderfully amazed by at the same time.

As they reach the front, Will lets go of her arm and walks right to stand with Pope and the groomsmen and she walks to the left stepping up beside the maid of honor.

It all goes so fast from then on, one more bridesmaid and groomsman, the flower girls, then the bride. She looks gorgeous and she’s smiling the biggest smile. It’s one that just radiates with pure unfiltered joy. And there’s love in her eyes. So much love. The way she looks at Pope leaves no doubt about her feelings for him. It’s the most basic of all human emotions and yet the most complex to grasp though at that moment, in her eyes and his, it’s so clear to see and so easy to understand.

(Y/N) feels her heart do a little stutter as she allows herself, for the first time that day, to let her eyes wander towards the row of groomsmen. This is, by all accounts, a bad decision that’s only gonna hurt. Self-destructive behavior is something she’s pretty good at though.

Frankie stands next to Pope like a rock, sturdy and determined and ready to catch him if he were to stumble or fall. That is something so enigmatic about Frankie. As flimsy and unpredictable he can be when it comes to himself, he’s incredibly loyal towards his friends and loved ones. He does not falter, does not shake. Not for his loved ones, never.

The dark blue suit looks good on him, it fits him like a glove and it must’ve been expensive. Though (Y/N) can’t help but feel like something is missing. This isn’t the Frankie she knows. The one she —. Granted, it’s been years but still, there’s something funny and peculiar about Frankie in a fancy suit.

His lips are pulled up in a small, gentle smile. One that makes a comfortable warmth settle in (Y/N)’s heart. This man is both so familiar and yet so complicated. He’s been a constant in (Y/N)’s life for a long while now, ever since the first time Pope brought him around for dinner. Even without any blood relation, those two are brothers through and through. Will and Benny too. Those four, forever bound to one another by the horrors they’ve seen, the pain they’ve felt, and the family that developed along the way.

(Y/N) loves those boys, they are as much a part of her family now as they are of Pope's and yet, something about Frankie always felt different. From the first moment, their eyes met, the air filled with a strong magnetic pull. Invisible but palpable. It was always special. Always. Frankie is the kind of guy one can call at 3 am because you’ve heard a scary sound and don’t feel safe and he’ll jump into his car and come check it out for you and protect you, no questions asked. And he never wants anything in return. He just gives because that’s what his heart tells him too. The world, (Y/N) thinks, needs more people like Frankie.

He’s not without his issues, far from it really, and (Y/N) can acknowledge that. But the sum of his faults does not undo the size of his heart. Somewhere along the way of their friendship things changed. It was a gradual change, slow and steady like water down a stream. Glances lingered, hands kept brushing more frequently and the air held a perpetual sizzle of static. Though neither of them ever admitted it, they both knew it was there. Hell, even the boys, foolish and naive as they could be, noticed. It was a well-known secret.

If life really was a movie, the two of them would’ve gotten a happily ever after by now. A dance on a rooftop, a kiss in the rain, a soft indie song leading them into the end credits. A gentle epilogue to a slow burn romance.

But life really isn’t a movie. Everything seems to be working against them. Mostly time and cultural conventions. This man is her brother’s friend. Her brother’s brother. You don’t date your brother's friends, that’s like an unwritten rule. But time is probably the worst of their enemies. It never seems to be on their side. They’ve never been single at the same time. Frankie went through several more or less serious relationships and while (Y/N) hasn’t found anyone to settle down with permanently, there’d been men she lent her heart to.

Last year, just a few weeks before Pope swept his band of merry men off on their suicide mission to Colombia, (Y/N) moved back home after ending a 3-year relationship. Dave was — he was nice. Nice and secure and stable and boring. Something about him felt too squeaky clean. That night, looking at old pictures of herself and the boys that were proudly displayed on the fireplace in her parent’s living room, it became abundantly clear to her that Dave wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Dave wasn’t Francisco. She’d really set her mind to it then, to pull herself together and muster up the courage to finally seek a conversation with him about the elephant in the room they both had refused to acknowledge for so long. She’d been determined. Then Pope dropped a bomb on her.

“So Frankie and his girl are having a baby.”

And from that moment on she refused to let herself entertain any thought of her and him having any kind of future that went beyond being friends. It hurt, god it hurt like hell. But dreaming of things that could never be wasn’t doing her any good either.

Seeing him now, looking all snazzy in his suit and smiling, it sends a familiar shive through her body and makes the moths in her stomach go crazy. If only life was a movie. If only.

The ceremony passes in the blink of an eye. There’s happy tears, lots of them but love shines brightly through it all. Every glance, every touch, every word spoken. As her brother and his new wife make their way down the aisle, (Y/N) dares to take another glance towards Frankie and, for the first time that day, he’s looking back.

The world doesn’t shift or shake right then, doesn’t spin out of its axis. Nothing fundamentally changes but the air feels different. The electricity is back. The magnetic pull. The undeniable attraction. Just like that, they are both thrown back into this everlasting limbo of what-ifs.

(Y/N) looks away before her heart can break further, knowing what could’ve been and what can never be.

Weddings have this strange side effect of making you think about your own romantic entanglements. It’s not necessarily a bad thing or a sad thing. It’s just a fact. Seeing other people’s love being displayed so prominently, being celebrated, it makes you wonder. Will I ever find this kind of love?

“ You know, I think you and I gotta have a talk.” Pope’s voice holds a certain edge to it, a teasing tone she’s heard so many times growing up.

“ About what? Shouldn’t you be dancing with your wife right now? “

“ Ah, she got caught up in a conversation with her aunt, something about corgis. Once that woman starts going there’s no stopping her. It’s — it’s a lot.”

“ And you left your wife behind to fend for herself? What a way to start life as a married couple.”

Pope gives her a chuckle and their silly banter makes (Y/N) feel like a kid again.

“ So I’m gonna need you to talk to Fish. “

“ Huh? “

“ Oh don’t play dumb. I’ve known you your whole life, kiddo. I know when something’s going on with you and something is definitely going on.”

“ What’s my emotional turmoil got to do with Frankie?”

Her older brother raises his eyebrow in mock offense. As if to say “you really think I’m that dumb?”

“ You two have been throwing looks at each other all day whenever you think the other isn’t looking. Subtlety really isn’t either of you's strong suit. “

That, (Y/N) thinks, must be absolute nonsense. Frankie’s got a girl and a baby, there’s no reason for him to sneak glances at her. Clearly he’s gotten his happily ever after already and it doesn’t involve her. Pope must be delusional. Must have a head filled with cotton candy and all things rose-colored.

“ You’re on a wedding high, my guy. There have been no looks. “

Her words are met by Pope shaking his head in frustration. “ Look, I just — just please go talk to him. This dancing around each other is very high school drama and I love you both which is why I can’t watch this going on any longer. “

“ What are you saying?”

“ That if there’s something there worth um — worth exploring, you don’t have to worry about me or my opinion on it. “

If anyone had ever told her those words would ever leave her brother’s lips, she would've called that person crazy. Not that they change anything, he’s still got a woman at home and a baby. But still — it’s nice to know that if things had worked out differently, Pope would approve.

“ Are you saying that if I wanted to date Frankie — which I don’t, but like let’s pretend I did. Hypothetically. You’d be okay with that? “

“ (Y/N), “ Pope says and his voice dips lower as his expression grows more serious “ I love both of you. I just want you guys to be happy. “

Before either of them can continue the conversation, the bride steps up beside them, throwing her arms around Pope’s middle and facing (Y/N) with a big, radiant smile on her face.

“ Sorry I had to interrupt but I needed to get away from aunt Lisa and her Corgie stories.”

“ Nah it’s okay, don’t worry I uh — I gotta go talk to someone. “

Pope smiles at her in return and a silent understanding passes between the two. Maybe the story wasn't all that hypothetical after all.

Much to (Y/N)’s delight, Frankie sits alone at the table. His suit jacket is lazily thrown over the back of the chair and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. This looks more like the Frankie she knows. The one she loves. Effortlessly cool and yet so undeniably charming.

Sliding onto the chair next to his, she can feel her heart speed up with anxiety. She shouldn’t feel this way around him. Underneath all the feelings, this is still her Frankie, one of her best friends, a member of her little family of misfits.

“ Hey, you. “ her words are soft, delicate, almost as if she’s afraid of saying them. And maybe she is. A little bit at least.

“ Hey, stranger. Long time no see.”

His voice is dark and soothing but there’s an edge to it, a hint of teasing.

“ Mmh. It’s been a while. “

“ Yeah, and with the way you’ve been avoiding me all day today, it makes me wonder if I did anything wrong. “

Oh god.

“ Dude, what’s it with everyone thinking I’m avoiding you? I’m not. “

“ You sure about that? “ Frankie asks and raises his eyebrow in question.

“ Yup. Just been a — a busy day. I’d never avoid you, I missed you. “

At least the last part of that statement is factual. She’s missed him terribly.

“ I missed you too “.

There’s a truth in his eyes, a grounding honesty that is so hard to come by in people. Whatever words fall from his lips they are deliberate and he means them 100%. It’s something (Y/N) has always admired and appreciated about him.

“ Sooo … I was hoping you’d bring a plus 1 today. “

“ Huh? “

“ The baby ! “

“ Oh. Oh, I think it’s way past her bedtime by now. She’s uh — she’s with her mom. “

“ Do you have a picture? “

Frankie scoffs, “ One? I got a bunch of ‘em. How much time have you got? “

As he pulls out his old battered leather wallet, (Y/N) can’t help but let a smile take over her face. It’s so fitting that he would carry the pictures around in his wallet instead of having them saved on a phone. Frankie was never the guy to get all obsessed with having the newest technological gadgets. Though he was smart as hell and good at navigating any and all electronic devices, he never felt the desire to own a smartphone himself only having caved and bought one a year ago when his old phone died on him.

“ That’s her. Just celebrated her first birthday. “

The girl in the picture is undeniably Frankie’s daughter. She’s grinning up at the camera with his exact smile only she’s missing a few teeth still. Her eyes are the same soothing shade of brown and are rimmed by the same thick black eyelashes. She’s gorgeous and something about seeing her sends a pang straight to (Y/N)’s heart. What if …

It was one thing knowing that he was a dad but actually seeing his baby and realizing that’s his new reality, it’s strange. And while (Y/N) is happy for him, a part of her has a hard time coping with that realization. What if things had worked out differently, could that have been her life too?

“ She’s adorable. “

“ Yeaaah, “ Frankie replies and shrugs his shoulder casually, “ guess I did a pretty good job there. ‘s the first time in my life. Only thing I ever did right. “

Though he tries to shake it off and veil his words with a tone of mockery, (Y/N) can see right through him. The self-depreciation has always been a point of contention to her. How he can not see how wonderful he is, how loyal and sweet and loving, is beyond her.

“ Shut up, Frankie. Except for my brother, you’re the only guy I know that would drop everything to help me paint my kitchen at 1 am on a Tuesday. You’re so sweet and funny and I have not a single doubt in my mind that you’re an amazing dad. Stop selling yourself short. “

For a moment a quiet settles upon them that is neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. And then Frankie looks into her eyes again and the moths are back going haywire. If only her future lay in those eyes, oh how wonderful yet foolish of a thought.

“ Ah, I don’t know. Her mom doesn’t seem to think so. Left just before her first birthday. I mean — “ he sighs and takes a sip from his bottle of beer “ things between us hadn’t been good for a while and a breakup was inevitable. It’s just that I wish I could see the kid more. She’s my heart. She’s my everything. I want to be good enough for her, you know? So one day she can be like that’s my dad and he’s a pretty alright guy. Not that’s my dad, the ex-addict unemployed pilot. “

“ Frankie. That kid's gonna love you so much, now and forever. Because you love her. That’s all that matters. When you think about your childhood, do you think about your parents’ jobs? No. You think about how much they loved you and the good memories you had with them. “

Frankie stays silent for a moment, just looks at her with his big brown eyes, and then — then he smiles.

“ Can I tell you something? “

“ Always.”

“ When she was born. When the doctor let me see her and hold her for the first time. I wanted to call you. You’re the first person I wanted to talk to about her. I was so fucking terrified at that moment because she was so tiny and the world is so big and scary and I don’t know how to not fuck things up for her and how to protect her from it all. And you, when I’m with you I never felt scared, ever. You’re so good at making me feel like I can do everything and at making me forget about my own shortcomings. I wanted to call you so bad. “

“ Then why didn’t you? “

He averts his gaze for a moment, as if it’s a secret that weighs heavy on his heart. One he hasn’t told anyone before. One he isn’t sure he’s ready to share.

“ Didn’t wanna bother you. “

That’s not the truth. She can tell immediately. Frankie is a lot of things but he’s not a very good liar, at least not to the people that know him very well. Though she doesn’t push the situation any further.

“ Pffsh. Bother me …”

“ Didn’t think your boyfriend was gonna be okay with me calling you in the middle of the night. “

“ Well fuck him. “

Frankie raises his eyebrows in surprise. “ Huh “

“ Yup. “

“ Didn’t work out? “

“ Nope. “

“ Why’s that? “

Cause he isn’t you. That’s what she wants to say. That’s what rests on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be spoken. She doesn’t say it though, doesn’t have the guts. There’s an overwhelming sadness about getting your heart broken at a wedding and it’s not something she wants to experience today.

“ Just didn’t work out. Realized he wasn’t who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. “

“ So you’re not gonna be the next one inviting me to a wedding and making me wear a stupid fancy-ass suit? “

“ No way. First of all, you look hot in this suit and you know it. Second of all, nah. I feel like this isn’t in the cards for me. I want — I want a guy that I can call at 3 am to get chocolate chip pancakes at the diner and that will run through the garden sprinkler with me when it’s hot outside and that will ask me to slow dance at a wedding even though the song that’s playing is super cheesy and overplayed. Dave was sweet and he was secure but I always felt like something was missing. I loved him but we were never friends. I think that’s what I was missing. “

Their eyes meet again and a shiver runs down her spine. There’s a tension in the air so thick one could cut it with a knife. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, one that passes in the blink of an eye, there’s the courage she’s been looking for for so long. The one that helps her push the words from the tip of her tongue and speak them. For the first time. Finally.

“ Frankie, he wasn’t y— “

“ (Y/N), Darling. It’s time for your speech. “

At that moment she wants to strangle her own mother. That courage? It’s never gonna come back. This was her one chance and it’s not gonna come back ever. Oh god, what is Frankie gonna think? What’s gonna happen to their friendship ?!

“ Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll just. Okay yeah. I’m coming. “

She doesn’t dare even as much as glance back at Frankie. Though before she makes her way over to her seat where the mic is already waiting for her and the speech she’s so meticulously planned, she hears him call out to her.

“ (Y/N)! “

“ Hmm…? “

“ I lied. I didn’t call you when the baby was born because I thought It was extremely inappropriate to call the woman I’m in love with while the mother of my child is recovering from giving birth. “

The moths in her stomach are gone now. There are bats now. Maybe a swarm of birds. Something bigger than moths for sure. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire and simultaneously being splashed with ice-cold water. Her heart is beating faster and her hands are clammy and all she can do is stare and get lost in his eyes and his smile and this moment that seems unreal.

“ Honey? “

Her mother’s words break the spell and (Y/N) follows her to take her place at the table. The mic feels heavy in her hand though everything else feels weightless. Maybe, she thinks, this is what love should feel like. Weightless. Easy. Magical.

There’s a piece of paper in her sparkly clutch with a long and sentimental speech written on it all about love and finding your soulmate and all that stuff that, until today, she always felt like she didn’t really know anything about except for what they tell you in the lovesongs on the radio or the rom-coms on tv. And yeah maybe it’s still too early to feel like the world is an entirely different place now but those words he said, she’s been waiting for those words for over a decade. If there was ever a moment to romanticize her own life, to relish in the feeling of being loved, and to celebrate her own successes, it’s today.

The pre-written speech stays in the purse. Instead (Y/N) takes the mic and starts talking. Straight from the heart.

Across the room, her eyes meet Frankie’s and all she can do is smile, for it’s the first time in a long time where her future isn’t so scary. It’s exciting. Maybe everything else that came before was just the prologue and her story is just now about to really begin.

“ Hi. I’m (Y/N), I’m Santiago’s sister, and uh — I wanna talk to you about love. “

Weddings are hectic and busy affairs. There’s something going on at all times and it’s impossible for (Y/N) to find even a second to have a proper conversation with Frankie about — well everything. So much time had been wasted between them, on keeping their feelings locked up and trying to find the right moment. Now the moment is here and the conversation doesn’t seem so scary no more. Now the only thing that stands between them is this wedding. There are speeches then food then cake then more speeches then a picture slide-show one of the bridesmaids put together then then then. It’s never-ending and though it’s fun and (Y/N) enjoys celebrating her brother’s love, she wishes time would pass quicker right then. If only for once, time could be on their side.

Only when the newlyweds have left the venue to spend their wedding night at a fancy hotel nearby and most of the guests have cleared too, (Y/N) finally finds time to sit down and just relax for a moment. No speeches to listen to, no uncles who insist on getting one dance with her, no bride who needs help holding up her dress while she pees. Just calm and quiet and —

“ Can I have this dance? “

His hand is reaching out to her and there’s a nervous smile playing on his lips. There’s something quite intoxicating about it all now that she knows he feels the same. All the anxiety is gone and replaced with hopes and dreams of a future that now seems like it might actually happen. One that’s been a “What-if” for so long.

“ It would be my pleasure. “

Neither of them is a particularly good dancer but it doesn’t matter right then. All that matters is that they get to exist together at that moment and in their little bubble. That they get to be close and sway left and right as Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful tonight” echoes through the room.

“ That song is so cheesy and overplayed, “ (Y/N) exclaims, “ I love it. “

Frankie places a soft kiss on the top of her head and it sends her heart into overdrive. Is this what the lovers in a Jane Austen novel felt like when their hands locked for the first time, just a fleeting whisper of a touch?

It feels exhilarating and (Y/N) feels alive and like nothing is missing. Everything and everyone is right where they’re supposed to be.

“ You ever thought Pope was gonna end up actually getting married? I didn’t see that one coming to be honest. “

(Y/N) leans her cheek against his chest as they keep softly swaying to the song. A tiny content smile settles on her lips.

“ Actually, yeah. It was always part of his plan and you know him, if he sets his mind to something he usually ends up succeeding. “

Frankie nods in response. “ Talking about your brother, we had a uh — a conversation earlier.”

“ Now why in the world would you do such a thing? “ she jokes though not for a second does she lift her head off of his chest. He’s warm and soft and she can just about make out his heartbeat. This feels too comfortable to disrupt it for even a second.

“ He kinda implied that he wouldn’t mind if you and I — “

He stops, considers his words, rearranges them.

“ If we what? “

“ Started dating? That sounds wrong, that makes us sound like teenagers. “

“ You know, it’s funny because he implied something awfully similar when I talked to him earlier. “

“ Huh. weird. “

“ Ya think that maybe this, “ she says and gestures between the two of them “ is also part of his plan? “

Frankie shrugs and moves his hand to her jaw, softly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“ He always gets what he wants, guess we can’t break the chain, huh? “

“ Guess not. “

They’re so close. So unfathomably close. His warm breath falls onto her skin and he can smell the flowery scent of her perfume. The air around them sizzles with electric anticipation.

Back when she was a kid, (Y/N) was obsessed with the Disney Cinderella movie. Everything about it felt so magical and wonderful and life held the sweet bliss of childlike wonder and innocence. And then she grew up and witnessed her heart breaking over and over again.

Now that she’s standing here, in the arms of the man she’s loved for so much longer than she can remember, she thinks that maybe the movie wasn’t all wrong. Yeah, maybe it’s an overly sugar-coated fairytale where happy endings are guaranteed and things get fixed with a song and the help of some critter sidekicks. But the underlying message of them all, the most fundamental truth of them all is that love is worth believing in even when life gives you so many chances to lose hope.

Just like the fairy godmother has said: Even miracles take a little time.

This kiss, warm and gentle and passionate, is a miracle in itself. If only for the fact that it has taken over a decade for it to finally happen. His lips meet hers and the world spins faster and slower all at once. If this was a movie, they’d probably show a montage of all their happy memories throughout their years of friendship, all the longing glances, and flirty touches. But this isn’t a movie. This is real life. She’s really dancing with him. He’s really kissing her.

She doesn’t have to imagine any of it anymore because it’s happening right here and right now and life is so much better than any movie or romance novel or cheesy pop song. They can never live up to the real thing.

Neither of them wants to pull away though eventually their lungs demand oxygen and they reluctantly detach their lips.

“ You think we should, give this thing a chance? “

Once again there he goes being so casual. As if this is not a decision that’s been in the making for such a long time now. An accumulation of years of longing and wishing and hoping and constantly missing the right moments and bottling up feelings.

“ Francisco Morales, I’ve loved you for a long ass time now. I am not letting you go anytime soon. Ain’t no getting rid of me, buddy. “

“ Good, I’m not planning on it. And I love you too, by the way.“

They seal it with a kiss and life feels like it always did only — better. Everything feels so damn right. The what-ifs are gone and in their place now stands a future worth looking forward to. One filled with adventure and happiness and love.

“ Hey, (Y/N)? “

“ Hmmm ? “

“ You wanna go get pancakes at the diner around the corner? “

“ With chocolate chips? “

Frankie scoffs “ Duh. What a question. “

There’s a lot of comfort to be found in romantic media though as they walk outside the venue, hand in hand and matching smiles on their faces, (Y/N) thinks that every once in awhile life itself makes for the best movie, the most magical moments and the greatest love stories.

#francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #catfish x you #catfish x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales imagine #francisco morales imagine #catfish imagine #triple frontier imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine

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delicatelyherdreams · 5 years ago

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Pragma(tic) 21: She Faces the End

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 5229

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, fighting, war

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 20: She Begs for a Promise

The valley at the heart of Thessaly was just as you remembered it from all those centuries ago, but the grass was greener here. It’d been fertilized by the ichor spilled by gods and titans both during the Titanomachy. Craters still dotted the earth from where lightning or bodies had struck it. There was still a trench tearing it apart from where you’d dragged your bident through the dirt, attempting to cut one of your uncles in half. It was a battleground—populated with new plants and life, but a battleground nonetheless.

The scene was one of legends: titans and gods standing once again in two lines.

The brothers stood in an arch, Kronos at the point with his brothers flanking his sides evenly. A large golden scythe—his signature weapon—filled his hand, its shaft embedded into the dirt of the earth. His lips were curled up in a lazy smirk, his eyes half-lidded and content. He was amused as he looked across the valley at you, his red eyes never leaving yours.

He and his brothers were dressed in the very basics of armor; they didn’t think they needed it. They were titans—nearly invincible. They feared nothing, least of all bodily harm.

Funny, considering how many scars coated their arms from the last war.

The gods were prepared. With your sister as the figurehead, you and Natasha at her sides, and the gods flanking you three, you stood strong.

You could feel Bucky at your side, his aura engulfing you. He was on the side of you, separated only by your weapon which was tightly grasped in your hand. Your knuckles were white as you gripped the shaft, the stress in your body apparent as you glared across the meadow at the man who haunted your nightmares.

You hadn’t visited this place since the war, and now history was repeating itself.

The air was thick with tension. It weighed down on your shoulders like a burden, trying to shove you down into the ground and break your resolve. Neither side budged; all stood still as statues. No one wanted to be the immortal to instigate the fight. Not even your father who lived for conflict. He only smirked at you, his eyes bypassing his youngest and finding you—his firstborn and first victim.

Oh, how you loathed him. Oh, how you wished you could just end this now, snap your fingers and be back in your living room safe and sound with Bucky by your side. What would you be doing right now if none of this had happened? You’d probably be at home, maybe having brunch with your mother and Bucky or hosting your sisters for the morning. Maybe you’d be spending it on Olympus for once, roaming the shops with Bucky before getting bored of all the stares and going down to the Mortal World. Or maybe you’d be stuck in the office tackling an enormous mountain of paperwork. Whatever you’d be doing, it would be a hell of a lot better than what you were doing now.

The silence refused to let its hold of the valley go, and you found yourself begging for someone—anyone—to just break it already. It was deafening.

Your father, ironically, was the only one who seemed to catch the silent plea.

His smirk only grew as he looked at you, and, finally, he greeted you saying, “My darling daughters, at last. Right where this all began. You might’ve had the upper hand last time, but I have spent centuries growing stronger, and—Finally!—I have the power to end the gods.”

Carol grit her teeth as she stared across the valley at your father, her eyes darkening. Her back straightened and you could see the queen in her emerging. She viewed your father not as family, but as an adversary. She was diplomatic and regal as she tightened her grip on her weapon: a six-foot staff of pure electricity. The concentrated bolt of lightning crackled in response to her annoyance and agitation. It glowed a bright white in her grasp, radiating pure power. “Turn back now, Father. Your threats will not be tolerated; your presence will not be allowed. Surrender and you might just survive this encounter unscathed.”

He roared with laughter, throwing his head back. “Oh, Carol, my youngest and most naive daughter. You think you have the authority to tell me what to do? You are not a titan, you are not even the first god. That honor would go to your beloved sister now, wouldn’t it?” His red eyes found your face off to her side and they crinkled around the edges in a grin. “I never did understand why you gave up the throne, my child. It was yours by birthright.”

He was provoking you; that much was clear to see. It was almost as if he was trying to turn you against your sisters by igniting a sense of entitlement in you.

It was pathetic.

You lifted your chin in annoyance. “I am not the queen here, Father. I was wise enough to know my place.” You picked your bident of the ground and lowered the tip in his direction. “Now you heard her: surrender now or suffer the consequences. We will not hold back. You will not be spared.”

“You don’t scare me. You are nothing but a god. I am a titan—the king of the titans. I have more power than you will ever know.”

“Then how did we defeat you?” You were growing agitated now, sick of his talk. “Make no mistake, Father, we were the victors of the war. We bested you, and the only reason you managed to free yourself was that you played dirty and corrupted one of our own.”

At the mention of his efforts to poison you, Bucky bristled at your side. You could feel anger rolling off him in waves.

Instantly your hand found his and you squeezed it as if to say, “Be still. Now is not the time.”

Thankfully he understood. It was an obvious effort for him, but he did retreat a step or so back.

For once he decided to listen to you and you were grateful for that.

This little exchange did not go unnoticed.

Kronos’ smirk only widened as his eyes switched between the two of you. “Oh, (y/n)... You got yourself a little pet. Are you supposed to be my son-in-law, boy? Is that what this is?”

“Leave him out of this, Father,” you hissed, your voice turning low and threatening. You were not in the mood for these antics.

“And what if I don’t? What if I decide that it’s fun?” His red eyes held your gaze before dipping to your lover. “What ever happened to that nymph? Last I heard she was making love to him every night. Did she get tired of him and come to you, boy? Did she decide that she needed a god to satisfy her instead?”

“Shut up,” Bucky growled, his possessiveness coming out.

“Oh! I see. You want to defend her honor!” Kronos cackled. “My lovely daughter has found herself a lover then—a man to finally settle down with.” He crossed his arms and looked Bucky and up and down, scrutinizing every inch of him. “A god of spring. Minor. Young. Little to no experience with real life. (y/n), you really had to pick him? He can’t protect you from anything. Or maybe you were thinking you’d be the one to protect him! Fancy that! A queen putting her life on the line to save her lover.”

“Stop,” you growled. You could see where he was going with this and it made your blood sizzle beneath the surface. The temperature dropped around you in response to your annoyance.

“You thought you’d save your precious prince? Twist the fairy tale a bit? You think you’re strong enough for that? How could you—a goddess who can barely keep a titan contained and who can be incapacitated by a small bit of poison—protect or save anyone?”

“Father, enough!”

“You think you can save your friends? You think you can save anyone? You think you can defeat me? I am a titan! I am the first! I created you and I can destroy you just as easily! You are an insect: insignificant and puny. A waste of space! Unfit for anything you have.”

The world was turning red. The hue started at the edges of your vision and only flooded in, coating the entirety of your sight. Your hands trembled with rage. Your grip grew impossibly tight on your bident.

His words enraged you. You knew they shouldn’t, but the taunting affected you more than you’d care to admit. You prided yourself on your power, and here he was accusing you of having not even that. But it wasn’t that the accusations angered you—no—what angered you was the possibility that he might be right.

The smile splitting his lips only grew wider. His chest puffed out in preeminence as he spoke, bolstering himself. His voice seemed to grow louder with every syllable. “You are weak. You are useless. You are still that pathetic girl I ate all those centuries ago!”

You knew Bucky’s hand was on your back as he tried to calm you, but you didn’t register it at all. Instead, you simply trembled and pulled your bident off the ground.

Kronos locked eyes with you across the valley. You could see that the anger on his face matched your own. He was mad at you. He was venting, letting loose all the feelings he’d built up over the centuries of his imprisonment. And now he was letting it go; attacking you with a first wave. His voice filled with poison as he yelled, “You! Are! Nothing!”

The scream that tore through your throat was earsplitting and you jammed your bident into the dirt beneath you. The crack that followed cut through the air and the ground, tearing a chasm in the earth. It shot at him like a flood, only halting when he drove his own weapon into the ground in its path.

The silence that followed was heavy. The gods around you looked too afraid to even speak. The titans were too stunned to move.

Only your father reacted. “Ah hah! Now there’s that fire in you I know you got from me.” He twirled his scythe in the air, the sound of the blade cutting nothing echoing through the valley. “Now come and show me that you really are my daughter.” And with that, he began his descent, his brothers close behind.

And that was your cue to move.

The world passed in slow motion as the titans and the gods moved down their respective mountains into the valley. Weapons glittered in the sunlight and the air filled with battle cries. If it wasn’t real and your immediate situation, you would have laughed at how cliche the scene was. However, there was no laughing as you saw your father’s scythe coming down in a golden arc across the length of the valley.

Time slowed.

Literally.

It suddenly felt like you were running through a wall of molasses. Your legs were sluggish; your body heavy. Time had slowed to a crawl and you were trapped in it.

It wasn’t just you.

Looking around, you could see the other gods were just as bewildered as you were. Looks of panic covered their faces. They didn’t know what was going on.

But you knew. With a sickening drop of your stomach, you knew.

Kronos’ sneer gave it all away.

He was the titan of time. Of course, he could manipulate it.

The titans moved in normal time while the gods were trapped in their sloth-like prison. The titans had slowed their pace to a lazy gait, conserving energy and taunting you with their sheer presence.

You grit your teeth as you slowly pulled your energy back. Two could play at that game. If they wanted to slow you, then you were going to take advantage of the extra time.

The fire was slow to catch in your stomach, but you could feel its warmth bubbling up, boiling just beneath the surface. His hold on you would break at some point, and when it did, you’d be ready.

Kronos waited until the titans were nearly on top of you to release his hold.

And, when he did, you were ready.

With your newly regained strength, you stopped dead in your tracks and jammed your bident into the earth once more. But this time, you didn’t split it.

A wave of darkness rolled out from the point of impact, rushing the titans with pure force. The sky blackened and the titans were pushed back.

And that was all the gods needed. What once was an advantage for the titans quickly did a one-eighty and turned in your favor.

You could see the utter shock and annoyance reflect in Kronos’ eyes as he realized his plan backfired and watched his brothers fall into the gods’ onslaught.

Outnumbered five to fourteen, the battle should’ve been obvious; but the titans possessed a strength that the gods never would.

Crius, Iapetus, Coeus, and Hyperion didn’t hesitate to engage the fight, but Kronos simply stood back and watched, his red eyes sweeping over the valley.

You chose to do the same, leaving your bident stuck in the ground.

Four rings of battles formed, one for each titan.

Your sisters wove in and out of the clusters, migrating to wherever their aide was needed most. Hyperion was proving to be a formidable foe for Valkyrie, Thor, and Loki. With Natasha’s help, they managed to shove down the golden titan’s sword, holding him back with their strength alone.

Maria and Clint worked in tandem with Carol against Coeus. Carol never let your uncle near her wife, protecting Maria with a fierce fire in her eyes as she let lightning fall from the sky across his body. But Maria was not useless. Armed with an elegant spear, she landed blow after blow, dancing just out of the titan’s reach. Clint stood apart from them, using his marksman aim to make ranged attacks. Arrows would sprout from the titan’s back and body at random intervals, and you knew he was hard at work. You just hoped he’d brought more than eleven arrows.

Tony and Pepper held their own against Crius. The titan of heavenly constellations was just barely a match for the husband and wife duo. Tony had armed himself with an armor of his own creation (which he affectionately named Mark 85 because it was his eighty-fifth suit) and used the built-in projectile system to rain fire down on the titan. Pepper was also adorned in an armor of Tony’s creation. The blue of her suit complimented the red of his perfectly. She provided backup and additional fire against the titan. Together, they kept the titan pinned and flailing. They were an arc of destruction.

And that led your gaze to the last battle.

It was Bucky, his mother, and the twins against Iapetus. The four gods matched the titan perfectly as blades clashed. Winnifred had her long sword interlocked with Iapetus’ spear as Wanda attacked with her magic and Pietro zipped around the titan, jabbing his sword into any gap in the armor he could find.

Bucky did what he said he would: he brought the wrath of Spring.

It was beautiful chaos and Bucky stood at its center. A king commanding his forces, he guided vines and roses full of thorns around Iapetus’ legs, anchoring him to the ground and drawing golden ichor from his flesh. He directed the thorns to bite the titan with a flawless fluidity, hardly even breaking a sweat. He was powerful and—at that moment—you understood why people called it a “force of nature.”

They were winning their fight. Iapetus buckled under their pressure, his own resolve faltering as fear took over his pale face and ichor spilled from his wounds. It was so amazing that you could’ve just cried with joy.

But, as with all things, the joy came to an end as someone moving in the corner of your vision drew your attention.

In the midst of the chaos, Kronos sauntered between individual battles with his head held high. He barely spared glances to the gods around him as some of them turned away from their own battles to try and strike him. Any feeble attempt at an attack was simply batted to the side. He couldn’t be bothered; he’d set his sights on his target and his mouth split into a sadistic grin. His red eyes bore into your skull. He was coming straight towards you.

Bucky glanced up as he felt the evil presence approaching, turning his attention from your uncle to your father. At once, his eyes darkened and he turned his body towards Kronos. His grip on his sword tightened as he moved to step in his path and keep Kronos away from you.

Kronos simply smirked as he stared at Bucky. “Move, or I will kill you, godling,” he said, his step unwavering.

Bucky—stupid, stupid Bucky—held his ground. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Kronos twirled his scythe and lifted it up in an arc over his head, ready to swipe down at Bucky.

“No!” You were in front of Bucky in an instant, lifting your bident up to stop the blade of the scythe. Vibranium clashed with gold and sparks flew. It was a merciless torrent raining down on a cloudless day. Your eyes burned red through your lashes. “Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare,” you hissed. The words were nothing but a harsh growl as they cut through the air, but you weren’t playing.

Kronos’ lips twitched up. “My, my. Such vulgar language.”

You sneered at him and addressed Bucky without ever taking your eyes off the titan, “Deal with the others; I can handle him.”

You could feel Bucky taking reluctant steps away from you as he rejoined his fight, but he wasn’t far away if you needed him.

Kronos grinned down at you, his scythe still interlocked with your bident. “Are you sure, daughter? Are you sure you’re strong enough?”

“I know I am.” Your eyes traced the arcs that made up his face. Looking in the mirror that was your father, you could feel your heart retreating back into your chest with dread; but you stood your ground as determination bubbled up, taking the place of fear and anxiety. Your lips split into a taunting grin. “After all, you couldn’t even hurt me yourself. You had to use extortion and trickery to weaken me.”

A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he added to the pressure pushing at your weapon. “We’ll see who will hurt the other.”

“I guess we will.” You shoved up, using an element of surprise to your advantage to push him away and swipe at his legs.

It was a miracle he jumped backward. The tip of your bident soared dangerously close to his kneecaps.

You recovered from your miss fairly quickly, standing and twirling around to try and land a blow.

He was ready this time as he brought his scythe up to block you. He shoved you back and made an attack of his own.

But you blocked as well.

Back and forth you danced in an endless circle of attacking and blocking. It was growing tedious honestly. But it was necessary. You couldn’t allow your focus to drop for even a second otherwise he would hurt you.

But you knew he’d hurt you anyways.

So it was no surprise when you felt a searing pain across your calf as he swiped up with his scythe and dragged the blade against the surface of your skin.

You screamed and leapt away from him, glancing down to assess the damage. It wasn’t bad, thank the gods, but it was enough that ichor began to pour from the wound.

Kronos’ smirk deepened as he stalked towards you. But he didn’t attack, instead he circled you as a predator does to prey. His laugh was cold and deep. “It’s you and me, daughter, as it always should have been.”

You grit your teeth as you pivoted, refusing to let your back be exposed to him. You felt like an injured animal being circled by a lion: trapped and desperate. But you refused to let him see that. “I hate you,” you hissed in a low voice.

“Oh, I know you do. The feeling is quite mutual.” He twirled his scythe, the blade audibly cutting the air. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance, back when you were only but a child. Eating you was too generous.”

“Then why didn’t you? Why didn’t you just end it when you could?”

His steps slowed until he finally stopped, and when he looked at you, you saw, for perhaps the first and only time ever, his gaze softened to an almost affectionate glance. But as soon as it had appeared, it was gone and he was gritting his teeth once more. “Call it a father’s idiocy. Maybe I did have an ounce of love for you. But whatever it was has been dead for a long time.”

The words hit you like a slap to the face and any hope you’d ever even maybe had of having even a tolerable relationship with your father vanished. Instead, red-hot rage filled you and you shot towards him.

You were before him in an instant, raining down hatred with your weapon.

He took advantage of your eagerness to attack to make a swipe at you with his scythe, this time aiming for your head. You backed off just in time to save your neck, but not to save your cheek. Pain cut across your face, thin as a thread but intense enough to make tears prick at your eyes. Even without looking, you knew that that one was most likely going to leave a scar.

Gritting your teeth, you cut an arc through the air and the prongs of your bident fell squarely on the blade of his scythe as he blocked. You pulled away briefly before swiping in again. Once more he blocked. This time he retracted his weapon before lunging.

But, in his desperate frenzy, he overshot himself.

For once, time seemed to slow in your favor. You saw where he would land, and you acted accordingly. Stepping to the side, you waited until he was right beside you before bringing your weapon down on his back.

Golden ichor poured from his newest wound and he faltered ever so slightly.

It was all you needed.

The fires of Hades were on your side as you attacked, unrelenting and merciless. Never once did you ease the pressure.

The effort paid off.

Cuts of all shapes and sizes began to appear over his body as your weapon found its mark. It was an extension of you and your anger towards him and you finally let all the pent up rage go.

He was kneeling now, and he finally found the chance to raise his scythe to block you. But even with it raised, you still attacked over and over again, striking one spot with growing intensity.

And, staring down at him, you realized something.

You were winning.

You were actually winning and it was an amazing feeling. You were making him small—as small as he made you felt. You pushed him down, blow after blow. The gold of his scythe glowed hot from the hellfire that rained down on it and the shaft actually began to bend under pressure.

The fear in Kronos’ eyes went unmasked. He didn’t even have the strength to fake composure.

You were glowing. Was anyone else seeing this? How were the others doing? You took your eyes off of your father and glanced around the battlefield to look for Bucky.

You wish you hadn’t.

You found Bucky. He was still fighting Iapetus. His mother and the twins had been swatted to the side and were regrouping. It was just Bucky against the titan. It was a fight you knew Bucky would lose. And you had turned just in time to see Iapetus bring his spear down on Bucky’s chest, drawing a thin line of golden ichor through the god’s skin. You saw Bucky’s face contort in anguish as he was cut.

His pain made you falter.

And that’s all Kronos needed.

Suddenly his weapon wasn’t beneath yours. It was cutting your legs, tearing at the muscles in your thighs.

Burning fire shot through your body and you went down at once. Already you could feel your immortality trying to heal you, knitting together the destroyed muscle and tissue, but it wouldn’t be quick enough. You fell down hard on your hands and knees and ichor poured from your wounds, flooding the ground beneath you.

You gripped your bident tighter as you screamed and tried to muster a sitting position, but you weren’t allowed to get that far.

The curved blade of the scythe plunged into your right shoulder and lifted you from the ground like a ragdoll. You couldn’t tell if the screaming came from your own mouth or from those around you as Kronos picked you up and flung you across the valley.

Your back hit the stone of a nearby boulder and you could feel the bones cracking under the pressure. The pain was excruciating, but you couldn’t even scream. Your voice was arrested by the agony you were in. The metallic taste of ichor filled your mouth. Your blood rushing in your ears was the only audible sound for about five seconds and the red faded from your gaze.

Through the dim haze that lingered, you could see him—Kronos—coming for you.

He twirled his scythe in the sunlight, the blade dancing dangerously through the air. He stopped just feet away from you and stared down at you, his face betraying nothing.

You tried to move, tried to speak, tried to do anything at all, but your body would not respond. It was too busy dealing with the pain from the gaping wound in your shoulder and desperately trying to mend it. You could feel the muscle painfully knitting itself together at an agonizingly slow pace. Every second was filled with knives digging into your flesh again and again.

But despite the regeneration, you knew it wouldn’t be done fast enough to make a difference.

Kronos sucked in a breath as he dipped his scythe, letting the blade rest just below your chin and bring it up to face him. His red eyes glowed with venom and victory and he smirked. “For 2,825 years… I have dreamt of this moment… The moment when I, Kronos, titan of time and King of all… Finally… Put an end to the wretched gods I created… Reclaim the throne that was brutally stolen from me… And killed the one person I loathe the most in this world.”

You mustered up all your strength and, not moving your neck for fear of an early and accidental death, spat at him. The ichor that filled your mouth landed on his foot—not a great distance but enough to make your point. You sneered at him. “This isn’t over. Even if you kill me, there will be those that will take you down!” Gods… Even saying that hurt you. Your breathing was growing more labored and painful; every inhale sent fire to your lungs.

“Maybe… But regardless, I will finally be victorious after I have killed the one, consistent thorn in my side.” He chuckled darkly and raised his scythe. “I wish there was something waiting in death for you, my dear, but I know the god of it and—trust me—there is nothing but pain and suffering in store for you. I have waited for this moment for too long, and now…”

The gold of his scythe blocked out the sunlight, the glow impossibly blinding. It was all you could look at. The gold and the red of your father’s eyes. How many times had you seen those eyes and wondered why he was your father? How many times had you looked in the mirror at your red and wondered why your father hated you? How many times had you wondered what you had done to have such a horrible father?

But none of it mattered now. Looking up, you didn’t see the man who helped create you; instead, you saw a monster. You saw the man who would bring your end.

And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

Because, suddenly, you were a seven-year-old kid again.

Staring up into the eyes of your father.

Wondering what you had done to deserve such a fate.

You could hear the faint sounds of battle around you growing fainter and fainter and you knew this was it. You knew that there was no coming back from this.

You were going to die and leave everything behind.

Would your sisters avenge you? Would they kill your father once and for all or would they join you in the grave? Would you get a proper funeral with an obol sealing your lips to pay your fare to the Underworld? Imagine that: the Queen of the Underworld paying a fee to enter her own kingdom. Or was your father right in saying that only pain awaited you after death?

Would your mother cry for days after your death, wishing she’d never brought you into the world at all so that you wouldn’t have to endure such pain?

Who would take care of Cerebus? Peggy maybe? Or would she be so weighed down with grief and new responsibilities as Queen of the Underworld to play with him properly?

And Bucky…

Oh gods…

Bucky would probably take your death the hardest. He loved you after all.

Would he find love after you? Or would he be inconsolable? Would he learn to live in a world that you weren’t in? Or would he succumb to a depression that not even his friends could rouse him from?

You prayed to anyone that would listen that he’d be alright without you because you knew you wouldn’t rest in peace if you were the one to destroy him.

But, despite these fears, you knew they’d all be okay after you went. They wouldn’t be alone. They’d have each other.

And that was a comforting thought.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you looked up at your father and set your stare in stone. You wouldn’t let him see your sadness or despair. Instead, you’d leave him with one last image of a brave face—one that wasn’t scared of him and embraced death like an old friend.

“...you die!” He swung down at you, the gold of his scythe slicing an arc in the air.

It was only then that you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for a pain that was indescribable.

For a pain that never came.

It should’ve been over. Is this what death was? Painless? You expected death to be painful as he cut through you, but you felt nothing.

For a moment, there was absolutely nothing; just silence.

And then you heard it: the cry of agony.

Next 22: She Unleashes Hell

#pragma(tic)#hades and persephone #hades & persephone #hades & persephone au #persephone!bucky x hades!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #delicatelyherdreams #bucky barnes angst #fluff #war

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maggyme13 · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar (15/?)

Warnings: I don´t think so..

Wordcount: around 2300

Masterlist

Sugar- Masterlist

Part 14

Heavy fog was all around.

It weighted on your head, chest, and extremities not allowing you to move even a hair.

Am I dead? What happened? -Oh yeah, a car...

Then darkness took over your mind again and when you came to the next time, voices were there as well.

“She has a bad concussion, heavy bruising and her left shoulder was dislocated. But otherwise, she was very lucky. This accident could have ended in her death.”, an unknown male´s voice stated.

“

“When do you think she will be waking up again?”, this voice sounded like Bucky.

“Soon. Her body is exhausted from the accident. But she should be awake any day now.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

“Mr Laufeyson. Mr Barnes.”, the first male said, and soon after a door closed.

“Any news from the Sheriff?”, Loki wanted to know and Bucky answered.

“No. Just what Sam found out himself when he dragged that drunk bastard from behind the wheel.”

A drunk? But why was that car so silent.

“Stupid electric car. If it wasn´t for that silent engine, we would have heard him coming a long time ago.”, your friend cursed.

Electric, which explains the missing noise. I wonder how the others are doing. And Hati.

Not long after, exhaustion took over and you fell asleep again.

.-.-...-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-

“Please, I just want five minutes. Not more not less.”, it was your brother.

“Why should I allow you into this room?”, Loki asked with his manager- voice.

“I am her brother.”

Ha. Sure.

“Really? Trusting my information, you disowned her just a few days ago. So why the sudden change?”, the CEO hummed.

“Why do you care?”, your brother growled and you could imagine the burning look in his eyes.

“Why shouldn´t I? (Y/N) is very dear to me.”

“Sure, I bet she is just another pussy for ya. Another naive girl from a small town to pull under the spell of luxurious life and make them do whatever you want. It was you who gave her the money for Ma´s house, am I right? What did you make her do in return? Huh? Have her take it in the ass? Have her blow you under the table while you have a video call? Tell me. What was your prize? What did my sister have to give you?”, at first he had this mocking laugh in his voice, but it got colder with every spoken word.

“Speaking out of your own experience? It is known that you bikers don´t really care about your female companions, you take what you want from them and share them as others do with Pizza.”, now it was Loki who sounded mocking, “They are someone's daughters and sisters after all.”

The tension that followed was cut-able and a feeling weaseled down your spine. A feeling that only showed itself whenever you were about to witness your brother´s anger and so you prayed that Bucky, Sam, or Thor were near to protect your boss. Or else you had to fear for his well being.

“But as you seem to be one to demand answers in using other ways if they are not given as requested, I will answer you. Nothing. There was no prize for her to pay. I gave her the money out of a free will and without any ulterior motive, as a gift. And before you ask, I never demanded anything from her she was not willing to give. And until recently, that had only been her companionship and care, nothing sexual.”

“If you say so.”, Happy growled lowly.

“She cooks and bakes for me when she feels the need to. She looks after the apartment when she has time. Joins me to dinner, or lunch and business functions. Otherwise, she can do and go whatever or where ever she wants to. I admit, at first, when we first met, I did not treat her in a way I should have. But I explained myself, apologized and we came to an understanding.”

“Yer are her fucking Sugardaddy.”, your brother sneered, “You made a whore out of my sister. A freaking croweater.”

“You see, there is a difference between your sister and one of your Croweaters. First of all, the only person your sister would sleep with is me if she chooses to. With the emphasis being on: if SHE chooses to. Even so, I am her Sugardaddy or Dominant, she holds the real power in this dynamic, this relationship. She decides what she want ´s to let me have. Just as she did when she came and soughed comfort with me after you broke her heart.”

“You fucked her when she was vulnerable? Took advantage of her, when she was not in her right mind? Is that what you want to tell me?”, now he was nearly shouting in his burning anger and you believed to hear the sound of a gunshot soon.

What NO! Happy…

“No. What I said, was that she came to me to seek comfort. She made Steak and when I came out of the shower, she was waiting for me only dressed in some lingerie. She offered herself to me. I believe she decided that if everybody thinks her a whore, why not do as they think and fuck? I did not, believe me, before you get a stroke out of anger. She was the only one who came to a release that night. And the only thing entering her that night was my tongue and finger. I kept my dick in my pants. Unlike other people, I can control my needs and put those of my partner above my own. I only take what is offered and not demand to get something offered so I can take what I want.-”

Wow. That was far too much information for my brother. What is going on?

“-Now that this is out of the way. Tell me, why should I allow you to be in the same room as (y/n), alone?”

“She is my sister, and she is very dear to me. Just as she is to you.”, your brother suddenly admitted and your mouth would have fallen open, if you were awake, “That´s why I did what I did.”

“I am sorry, but I can not really follow you I think. Please, explain how you broke your sister´s heart because you love her as you claim.”

“Huh,”, he snorted and sighed, “I always did. I loved her from the moment she was born. Her father was a dickhead who treated our mother like shit. He beat her regularly, just as he did with me. The only one who was spared was (y/n). Did I loath her for that when I was a child? Maybe, but Ma explained that he only spared her because he could not excuse bruises or injuries on her body as easily as with us. Ma would be clumsy and I a rowdy child. But what could a few month old baby be? -”

I never heard this version before. I never heard anything of this before.

“ - The bastard was killed when I was in my teens. (y/n) was still too young to remember. And I had already my problems with the cops and other people like me. I knew she would be in danger if anyone learned about her. So I did the only thing I could: make everyone, including her, believe I hated her like nothing else. Like that she would have no importance to those that meant me harm.”

“You did it to protect her.”, Loki hummed.

“Yes.”

“You hurt her. Made her believe she is unwanted and maybe even hated by you to protect her?”, the CEO asked again to make sure.

“I wanted to rather see her hating me than being dead.”, your brother admitted and tears gathered behind your heavy eyelids.

“Then why disowning her? You already had what you wanted. Why broke the last bit of her?”

“She is as stubborn as the rest of us Lowmanns, even though she changed her name as soon as she could. She left to study in NY. Had to stop because it became too expensive for her to pay. I told Ma, she should give her some money from me and say it was from her. (y/n) never asked for money. She moved out into a different apartment, started to work full time at a diner, and worked her ass off from then on. Not once asking for money, but rather sending any spare penny she got to help Ma. She lived but she never lived. If you know what I mean. She always cared more about others than about herself and not once did she have someone who cared about her. That stupid boyfriend of hers, who should have treated her just the way she was treating him, was of no use either. And I am still tempted to get my ass over there and spend him a visit.”, the last part was a deep promising growl.

“Mhm. I know what you mean.”, Loki hummed in approval.

“I wanted her to leave and forget us. To finally think about herself first and not about us. Not about a way to get Ma enough money for her medication before having even paid for her food. Not about a way to help Ma with her groceries before being able to afford new clothing. Not about a damn bank account, she started to gather good damn money in case someone has to bail me out should something happen to Ma while I am in Jail because no one paid one.”, Happy was nearly shouting now.

Does he know about all of this? Well, Aunti must have spilled the beans on some of this, but … no one knew about the account. How?

“I just wanted her to be free from us. Free to live her life without anyone holding her back. And what did it bring? Nothing. She was hit by a god damned drunk driver in the one city I should be able to protect her. And yet, she was hit merely a hundred meters away from me. And I was able to do nothing.”

Wait.. he was there?

Another heavy silence hung in the air.

“I never saw her as happy as she was after she came back from your business-dinner, or in that park just before the car hit her.”, Happy breathed, “Don´t make the same mistake I did and break her heart-”

“Because?”, Loki asked interested, musing what the biker had in mind otherwise.

“Because then I and everyone I know will make sure you will regret it. And if it is the last thing I will do. Not the most expensive security detail will be able to protect you. I will find you, and I will make you suffer.”, your brother stated his voice cold as ice.

“A strange promise to make at the bed of an ill person.”, Loki mused.

“Ain´t a promise. I swear this by my mother´s life and my Harley.”

“I will remember this. But be assured: I have no intention to ever hurt your sister. She is the purest and most caring person I have ever met in my life. If she allows it, I will lay the earth to her feet and give her everything she wants, needs, and more.”

“Good. And you do well to remember that Laufeyson. I will trust you with her now that I know I was right about you. I will leave then. Have a nice day.”, you heard your brother move. You did not want him to leave.

“You can stay here if you want. I will let my men know that you are no danger to (y/n) and that I allowed you in here. I have to speak to the doctor and then make a few calls.”, Loki said.

“I will let her know if she wakes up. If she lets me speak that is.”

“Thank you Mr Lowmann.”

“Call me Happy. Only Cops, Judges, and agents call me Mr Lowmann.”

“Happy.”, Loki nodded and soon later, you heard the door to your room close.

Heavy leather boots closed in on your bed and not a second after the screeching of cold metal on the tile floor reached your ears.

“I am sorry for what you went through all these years. I know I will never be able to make it right to you, and I totally understand that. Ma already had my hide after what I said a few days ago. And Tig gave me a black eye when he figured out why you ran crying. It´s ironic, isn't it? I do all of this to protect you and yet, here we are. You are in a damn hospital after nearly dying through a drunk driver who drove a car I fucking repaired a week ago. Karma is a bitch, huh? I wonder if fate wanted to hit me and not you.”, you felt your brother reaching for your hand, gently brushing his thumb over the back of it for a few minutes before his phone rang and he sighed.

“Yeah?”, he asked, “With my sister at the hospital. Na she seems to have only minor injuries. Yeah, best luck someone can have. What do you want?… alright. I will be there in twenty... I am sorry, sister. I gotta go. If I don´t see you before you leave for NY, be well. I love you, little Sis.”

And then he did something he never did and you wished he would do when you were younger; placing a kiss on the top of your head and ruffling your hair.

It was soon after your brother left that you once again fell asleep.

Part 16

AN 2.0. So, be honest... Who saw this revelation coming?

REBLOGS and comments are appreciated:)

Thank you very much.

~MaggY

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc@pacifyhxlsey @thankyoukarenclifford

@thankyouforanonymity @punkrockhufflefluff

@scarletraine @buckycaptspideypool @markusstraya @graveyard-groupie @markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

@marshyrebelcloud

MCU:

@yknott81 @banner-and-bucky-are-life @forext20 @dyanlzbb @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4 @bitchwhytho @ladyofmyst @jilldsumner @momc95 @appreciating-fanfics

Sugar:

@bits-and-bobs-and-kawaii-stuffs @mimmie666 @fullranchwolfoperator

@cluelessnitwhit @youknowitsclouds @his-paradox @purplerainharry

@spootgaai2000 @iamsuperjenna @nikkipea @alexakeyloveloki @timelordy-fangirl2 @girrafeeeeeee @emilyjane44x @randomgirlwholoveskpop @deathkat657

I couldnt tag a few of you… sorry.

Want to get tagged as well? Comment, Reblog or send an ask to let me know.

#Sugardaddy Loki #Sugardaddy Loki x Reader #Loki x Reader #Reader insert #loki laufeyson #MCU #alternate universe #Sons of Anarchy

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jaehyunspeachparty · 4 years ago

Text

4. The first day’s in the new home (m)

"I'm home." Chichi heard her boyfriend's voice and she smiled. It was the first night they would spend together in their new apartment. Chichi had let the suppliers in all day, who were bringing the furniture in while Sunoh had to work. "Hey!" She looked up at her boyfriend and was glad that he was finally home. "Are you clearing out the boxes?" He asked, kneeling in front of her. Chichi was sitting on the floor, surrounded by various things in which she tried to tidy up. "Yes, I can't believe how many things we already have." She put the last things aside and smiled at her friend. "I have something for you," said Sunoh, and Chichi saw him holding something behind his back. "Really? You don't have to buy me anything." She giggled, but Sunoh pulled out a bouquet. It was full of pink, purple and white flowers and Chichi froze. "It's really beautiful." She took the flowers and sniffed them briefly. Sunoh was watching her and those things, like taking flowers and smelling them immediately, were traits he loved so much about her. "In celebration of the day, I mean, we were finally going to spend our first night here." He sat to her feet and smiled. "I actually wanted to bake something for you, but my foot ..." She looked sadly at the ground, but Sunoh immediately took her leg and kissed her calf gently. "How are you?" "It still hurts. I hope it gets better soon." The Chichis foot thing was ultimately worse than expected. She had to be operated and was banned from dancing ballet for three months. "It'll be all right," he said then, smiling gently. Chichi was still shy when she saw her boyfriend smile. For her, he was still the handsome, unapproachable boy, the crush of all girls. Sunoh, on the other hand, only had eyes for her. He hugged her and kissed her. "Stop it," he said, laughing. "With what?" Her big eyes looked up at him. "I know the look. You have doubts about yourself again." He hugged her tightly and Chichi sighed, he knew her too well. "I just can't believe we live here now." She leaned her back against Sunoh's chest and looked around the apartment with him. "Now there are only two of us," he whispers in her ear while his hands slipped under her shirt. His lips touched her neck and Chichi's whole body started to vibrate.

"Wow Sunoh! That sounds good. You are really doing an extremely good job here. I know your internship will end soon, but I will do my best to make sure that you can work here if you want." Para the producer and Sunoh’s boss smiled in satisfaction. Sunoh has been working in the music production area for two months and has already demonstrated his talent for music here. "Yes, I would love to continue here." He smiled contentedly and Para patted him on the shoulder proud. "You are welcome to go home." But Sunoh shook his head. "It's okay. I'm still waiting for my father and my sister Miga. I'll still practice here." "Ahh yes your sister is Miga ..." The producer bit his lip and took a deep breath. Sunoh found the reaction strange, but shrugged and turned back to the turntable. "Okay, then I'll go. We have a lot of work next week anyway because of the new album by 'Pink Roses'. We will be a lot in the studio, so try to see your friends, family or girlfriend, if you have one." He patted him on the back again and Sunoh nodded. "Oh and greet your sister from me," he said with a wink before leaving the studio. Meanwhile, Sunoh's phone lit up with a message from Miga saying that she would be there shortly. So Sunoh decides to change quickly. He had been working in the same shirt all day and now he wants some fresh clothes when he meets his family. He still had a shirt with him and just as he was taking off the old one, the door opened. Startled, he turned and saw Misun. Beside Miga, Misun was the new star for SM. She looked amazing, her voice was amazing and she was in the current most popular girl group, Pink Roses. Miga hated Misun, Misun hated Miga. The two were terrible competitors even though they weren't even in the same industry. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was actually looking for Para." She leaned against the door frame and eyed Sunoh. He quickly put on his shirt and began to button it up. "I heard you were doing a good job," she said, continuing to watch him. "Yes, I hope I can stay." Sunoh smiled politely, but ignored her. "I hope too." Misun winked, but the next moment Miga was already there. "Well, Misun. Nothing to do?" She hissed and came into the studio. "Yes," said Misun, looking once more at Sunoh's upper body. "Bye Sunoh." She waved him elegantly and then left. Miga immediately closed the door and looked at her brother. "What did she want here?" Miga rolled her eyes and pointed to Sunoh's half-open shirt. "I don't know, she wanted something from Para but he leaved a few minutes ago." He shrugged and looked at his big sister. "Be careful. I don't trust her." Miga sat down on the chair and sighed. "I think she's really nice." "Of course she is nice to you because she thinks you're hot." Miga can't believe how naive her brother was. She thought it was cute that he only had eyes for Chichi, but he didn't see other girls looking at him. "This is nonsense." Sunoh was annoyed at times when his sister distrusted one. "Oh my god Sunoh. Are you blind? She couldn't even look you in the face because she was so blinded by your abs." "Come on Miga. Don't exaggerate." Sunoh shook his head, but the next moment Jaehyun came inside. "Okay, can we go?" Jaehyun smiled and hugged his children.

After dinner, Miga and Sunoh went straight home. Kiwoo wanted to go out so much but the others preferred to go home. Miga in particular had a shooting day the next day and had to get up early. So Geon drove with his parents home while Miga, Sunoh and Chichi shared a taxi. At home, Chichi and Sunoh decorated and furnished the apartment. At some point, they were tired and went to bed to watch a little TV. Sunoh had his girlfriend firmly in his arms as she looked at the screen. "Chichi?" He asked then and looked down at her. "Hmm ..." She also looked up at him with a smile and her dark eyes met his. "Do you notice when someone flirts with you?" He looked almost shy and his ears turned a little red because of the uncomfortable question. "In my ballet class there are only girls and we hardly see the few boys, only if we have a performance together. So I can't say that ... Why do you ask?" Chichi wasn't sure, but she felt bad. "Miga just said that I am blind to such things." He shrugged and then looked back at the TV. Chichi was unsure of other people flirting with him. "Is there someone who likes you?" Chichi then asked carefully. "No, nobody." Sunoh was still convinced that Minsun was just a friend, even if his sister thought he was naive. "And with you?" Sunoh asked carefully and looked back at his girlfriend. "No, nobody cares about me." She shrugged and leaned more against his chest. "Stop saying something like that. You are so exciting. I am the boring one." Sunoh stroked her cheek and smiled gently. "You're not boring." Chichi rolled her eyes and looked back to the TV. "Yes. I mean everything is perfect, but not exciting. I come from a good family, got a good internship and got to know the love of my life early on." He turned her head to himself and smiled. "And you Chichi ... had a different life. Your mother exposed you. You grew up alone with your father until he married again. Then you fought so hard and trained for ballet. You have such a great character, you are intelligent and you are beautiful." He kissed her gently and his lips felt like honey to Chichi. She was about to say something, but Sunoh didn't allow it. He gently pressed her into the cushions so that her back was on the mattress. "I love you so much," he muttered between his kisses and hardly gave Chichi room to say anything with his passion. She clung to his shirt and held him so tight that she would never want to let him go. Chichi always wore one of Suoh's shirts as pajama. He loved this because he could easy slide his hand underneath and stroke her naked body. His touches were always gentle and soft. It was never too rough, never too demanding. Chichi always came first for him. First she had to feel good before he was fine. He wasn't selfish for a second, even when he desperately longed for her body. His fingertips stroked her hip and she bit her lip as her heart rate increased. He put his body over her and crawled down so that his lips were over her navel. She moaned gently and a smile flashed over Sunoh's lips and his dimples appeared. "Relax," he whispered as he clawed his fingers to the edge of her panties and gently pulled them down. He then kissed her hill and Chichi's body started to react. To eat her out was something he enjoyed. He loved it when she twitched with excitement. Sunoh wrapped his arms around her thighs to bury his face closer to her middle. He liked to take his time with something like that, her moans echoed through the rooms and since they lived alone, Chichi dared to be more vocal. She gave herself completely to him and that made Sunoh even wilder. He was in the middle of it when they suddenly heard the doorbell. Sunoh looked up in surprise and Chichi stared at him with wide eyes. "Who is ringing so late?" Chichi asked, looking down at her boyfriend. But he just shrugged and put his lips back on her folds. But it rang again, followed by a knock. "Sunoh ..." Chichi winced and was nervous. It was already two o'clock in the night and therefore too late for a visit. Sunoh wiped his face clean and Chichi got dressed again. First Sunoh looked through the door viewer and what he saw surprised him. "What's going on?" She asked, hiding behind him. He opened the door and looked down. "Kiwoo. What are you doing here?" Sunoh's little brother sat on the floor and looked pretty wasted. He helped the boy up and tried to carry him into the apartment. "Miga didn't open the apartment." Kiwoo slurred while his older brother put him on the couch. "I'll make coffee quickly." Chichi ran into the kitchen and prepared everything. "Oh man, I thought you were just going for a drink." Sunoh shook his head, prepared also the sofa to a bed. "I was in the club with the boys ... I feel so sick." Kiwoo put his hands in front of his face and everyone could see that he was suffering. "I'll bring you a bucket." Sunoh jumped up quickly and looked for something where his brother could throw up. At some point, he found an empty cleaning bucket. He immediately ran back, but he saw Chichi sitting in front of Kiwoo, who already had the coffee in his hand. "Here if you get sick." Sunoh put the bucket down and looked worriedly at his brother. "Thank you ... you two are so perfect ..." Kiwoo continued to complain and then took a sip of the coffee. Chichi looked up at Sunoh, who laughed. "No honestly ... I wish I was more like you." Kiwoo looked drunk at his big brother. "You don't have to be like me." Sunoh laughed and sat down with his brother. "Why did you grow so big? I and Geon are almost 10 cm shorter than you." Kiwoo lay back and sighed. "You are still tall." Chichi tried to cheer him up. "Okay okay. I think we should all go to sleep." Sunoh got up and covered his brother. It wasn't long before Kiwoo closed his eyes.

new generation masterlist

masterlist

#jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #daddy jaehyun #lovestory #new generation #writting #fluff #smut

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conaionaru · 4 years ago

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Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Brother and Sister

Synopsis: Silas and Vanya talk on her name day. The pregnancy is coming to an end soon.

Warnings: Silas, Toxic family, sibling rivalry, mentions of murder, angst, fluff

Tags:

@queenbeeta @heavenly1927 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @lol-haha-joke @youbloodymadgenius @didiintheblog

P.S. Anything in cursive is Old Norse. Anything in bold and cursive is a memory.

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

f there was one thing Vanya hated, then it's definitely seeing Silas walking around looking down at everyone. Or maybe it's just Silas himself; after all, he isn't exactly the most likable person. Stithulf is probably the only one who truly cares for Vanya's cruel brother and not for his title. The blond knight seemed to her like a good influence on her brother. He cared about the people and Silas's survival, which no one else bothered to do up until now. She just hopes that his concern is sincere and not a front he put on to win her trust.

"I was never happier that I didn't have a sister. Just imagining him as our brother in law makes me sick." Sigurd commented, sitting next to her on his bench, tuning his oud as she stitched a pattern on Ubbe's new shirt.

Vanya shrugged at his choice of words and looked down at her stitching. She was so absorbed into her thoughts and watching Silas that she butchered a part of her work. The ginger cursed under her breath and tried fixing it. Her husband's older brother snickered at her adorable rage, but shut up when she glared at him.

"You do have a sister now. And she doesn't like you talking about her brother that way." She snapped angrily as Sigurd raised an eyebrow at her tone.

"Please don't tell me you like him. I get that he is your family, but Silas doesn't seem like a good brother. When was he ever nice to you?" Sigurd asked, thinking back to his own brother. He and Ivar were brothers, but if someone were to treat him the way Silas treats Vanya, he would kill them. Only Sigurd gets to insult Ivar and get away with it. Afterall they are brothers; it would get boring if everybody were nice to each other.

Vanya saw Stithulf leave her brother's side and walk over to the other knights, both Silas and the knight seemed annoyed and sour. "When were you ever nice to Ivar?"

"When he was a babe. Things were easier when he couldn't talk."

"You mean when neither of you talked." Vanya pointed out, walking over to her brother's side, gathering all her courage to talk to him. "Are you alright?"

Silas glared down at his redheaded sibling and walked away from her. He stomped his way past two of his knights who looked at him, terrified. "Get out of my way, you lowlife filth!" He spat at them as they made a path for him.

"I am sorry, I am sure you bathe regularly. Have a nice day!" Vanya apologized in her brother's stead as she heard Sigurd run after her, cursing her sudden getaway.

"Stop following me!" Silas spat at her, turning on his heal. His nostrils flared in rage; the king looked like a bull ready to charge. "What do you want, Vanya?"

"I want to talk. Like civilized people would."

"Do you take me for uncivilized, you worthless bitch?"

She definitely didn't miss these types of conversations with him. Why does she even try? "I don't want to fight. I want to talk to you privately, without it seeming like you will kill me."

Silas huffed at her comment and mentioned for the shore. She sat down on the pier to rest her legs while he stood over her, glaring at the water instead of her. "Talk, or I will leave."

"What did you argue with Stithulf about?" She tried not to sound demanding and timid to soothe his anger a little bit. It would be easier if he were less murderous.

Silas sighed and gave her a letter from his pocket. It held the royal seal of Slegia, which could only mean that their mother sent it. Vanya opened it and read over the writing in astonishment. "Dear King Silas, I wish to inform you that I got married again while you were away. Me and Lord Ceolmund will continue living in the castle. Have a safe journey, and greet Vanya for me. Greetings, Queen Mother Siflæd." It was short and to the point, and an obvious dismissal of Silas's authority as she married without his consent or knowledge.

"She did it to spite me. I forbid her to bring any more lovers to the castle, so she married the one that would anger me the most." He seethed, tearing the letter out of her hands and ripping it into pieces that he threw into the sea. "I want to raise my armies and cut off his head!"

"Maybe she did it out of love. Or she is with child. Whatever the reason, he is our new father now. Murdering him isn't a wise choice." Vanya reasoned, trying to remember if she ever met this Lord Ceolmund.

Silas shook his head and slammed his hand against the post he leaned on. Vanya jumped at the sudden outburst. "Oh, he is as much of father to us as Siflæd was a mother. Ceolmund is rich and young, a perfect victim to her charms. The moment he returns to his senses, she will drop him, pregnant or not."

"If you know that, then why fight with Stithulf? Why plan a murder if the outcome is obvious?" Vanya pressed, trying to decipher her brother's thinking process.

The King spat on the ground in disgust and looked at her stomach. "Because this poses a problem for my marriage."

"Your marriage? You will take a wife?" Vanya questioned, failing to imagine Silas as a husband. He always seemed like the type that wouldn't marry even if his life depended on it.

He leaned into her face and smirked. "I am supposed to marry Lady Eoforhild. She will give me an heir and connect Slegia with Ecbert. Considering that she is his brother's granddaughter, he will support us against threats to keep her safe. But Mother destroyed the plan the moment she married that halfwit."

"How does that destroy your plan? You can still marry her."

"Ceolmund is Eoforhild's father, you dumb cow. The deal was to marry her, as it is the honorable thing to do after I took her maidenhead, leaving her no longer a virgin and unfit to marry anyone. She seduced me at a dance on my name day, that bought dishonor on their family name, so Ecbert offered me her hand in exchange for his armies. They keep their reputation and get some form of power over Slegia, while I get allies and heirs. And that option is now out of question when Mother went behind my back and married my betrothed's father!"

"And now the church won't allow you to marry her anymore." The ginger sighed in defeat, seeing the reason behind his anger. Their mother destroyed a chance of protection and the poor girl's life.

Silas rolled his eyes at that and looked back at Sigurd, who stood behind them, glaring at Silas as if he will beat him with his oud soon. "Mother did it to gain back some sense of control. She has been throwing tantrums since you left; she is humiliating herself and the whole kingdom. She always hated being in the background; that's why she acts out like a child. Just like when Father was alive. That's the truth of it all."

Vanya knew what he was talking about, when Osmond was still alive Siflæd paraded her lovers around to spite him and his lovers. Their relationship was anything but love; they hated each other and fought daily behind closed doors. After his funeral, the vicious cycle was over, and she could do as she pleased. That is till Silas got fed up with her behavior and forbid her to take any more lovers. And now she married his future father in law.

"The truth is always either terrible or boring. Why can't there be a middle ground? Like she married him out of love and not spite."

"She doesn't know love, not to me or anyone else. She is a dark pit of hate and selfishness. Siflæd never held her tongue about me being a monster, but we both know she is no better. The only difference is that I have no problem showing it." He sneered in his rage, stomping off to either brood or plan murder. Whatever it was, Vanya understood his feelings. A perfect opportunity thrown out of the window because Siflæd got something to prove.

"Well, that was eventful," Sigurd commented, helping Vanya up. The ginger flinched in pain, causing the Ragnarsson to panic. "Is it the babe? Is it coming? Please say no, you can't give birth here!"

Vanya rolled her eyes at his hysterics and wrapped her arm around his. "Just a kick. The child is stronger than one would think." Sigurd sighed and helped her walk back to the Great hall to collect her stitching.

"A gift, Princess. A pretty rose for a pretty girl." A woman stopped them, giving the Saxon a flower before walking away.

"Well, that was strange," Vanya muttered, cradling the gift in her hand, smelling the sweet aroma.

Sigurd snorted and pointed at the rose. "Maybe it's an offering. Hvitserk heard some people say you are Freyja or Frigg in disguise."

The pregnant girl gawked at him in shock. How could the people even think of her as a goddess? What about her seemed divine and godlike? "I am not a goddess, Sigurd! I am human, just like the rest of you. I'm not special, who am I to think I am special?."

"Pretty, smart, kind, selfless, lots of patience considering your husband. You are right, nothing special at all. I guess we are all just naive." The sarcasm was strong with that one, and it made her smile. It was nice to be seen, but she would prefer a little less worship. She wasn't a god or anything near Freyja and Frigg. Vanya is and always was a plain mortal born into money. There are thousands of them all over Midgard. "And you should get used to getting gifts. It is your name day today. You are seventeen now, Little bird."

Vanya chuckled and smiled at the passing people. A year ago, she wasn't pregnant, married, or living in Kattegat. Things change so fast it's almost scary. Everything she went through in the last year feels like it happened a decade ago. "Oh I will still complain about getting gifts, I will just limit for Ivar's ear before we go to bed.

"Well, I hope you won't complain about my gift. I think you will like it."

"No promises, Brother." She teased as he snorted, shaking his head.

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x oc #ivar imagine #vikings imagine #vikings #history vikings #original character #original female character

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elsanna-shenanigans · 4 years ago

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December Contest Submission #8: Scintillating

words: ca. 4500 setting: mAU lemon: yes cw: alcohol consumption, nipple play, some swearing, not vegan-friendly decor

Condensation coiled past her lips, fogging her vision and drawing her eyes up to the spattering of stars above them. For a moment, Elsa forgot all about the reason that had brought them here in the first place, stopping in her tracks to gaze up in wonderment. A smile drew itself slowly across her lips as she fell into the beauty of the cold, distant lights cast down on the frozen, snow-shrouded wilderness around them. She tilted her head and the whitish grey faux-fur trim of her midnight blue winter jacket brushed softly against her cheek as she tried recognizing the constellations above her.

“Anna.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it had been so quiet around them but for the shuffling of their boots through snow that Elsa knew her younger sister wouldn’t have had to strain to hear her name. She tore her gaze away from the firmament to find Anna had already cued into the night’s glory overhead, and her heart swelled at the awestruck delight on the freckled face she held so dear. Freckles she couldn’t help but note had the same chaotic harmony as the stars they admired. They were rivalled only by the twinkle of mirth in Anna’s eyes and Elsa’s breath hitched as her eyes ran over the soft, beautiful lines of her cheekbones, her jawline, her throat, her nose, her mouth… Elsa averted her eyes from the delicately pink lips, exhaling shakily. Virtue of habit.

“I hope we get enough clear skies while we’re here, I could be out every night.”

Anna’s eyes went wide with apprehension and it was all Elsa could do to bite back a smirk, thinking of how expressive her sister was. ‘Don’t you dare make me choose between stargazing and standing around in -32°C weather’

“Yeah well, I’m not sure I could be, if it’s as cold as it is now.”

Elsa chuckled, her words having simply confirmed what her eyes had already communicated.

“Aw c’mon,” she teased gently. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“At this rate you’re going to have to light me on fire if you don’t want me to freeze before we make it to the chalet. Besides, you’re going to like the master bedroom.”

She shook her head wordlessly at the hyperbole, considering that while granted, the snow was knee deep, they were only a couple of footfalls away from the front steps. The house loomed darkly, melding into the thicket of pine trees behind it, but for the fairy lights that caused the snow beneath them to scintillate with prismatic pastels, each individual snowflake detaching itself from the rest this way. It was the sort of small wonders that gave Elsa reason to look forward to winter each year.

Readjusting her backpack, Elsa gave one last effort hoisting herself out of the snow to climb up the front porch and immediately began digging for the key that’d sunk to the bottom of her pocket. After a moment of struggling, feeling for it through her gloves, she pulled it out triumphantly and unlocked the front door. She bared her hands and dropped her backpack, blindly feeling for a light switch. When she finally did, her eyes fluttered in adjusting to the brightness. The interior was shockingly well-curated, the very definition of rustic chic between the wood, the stone, the plaid, the sheepskin, furs etc. A touch of charm and magic came by the way of understated yet elegant seasonal decorations. Mistletoe, cedar wreaths, holly, pine garlands accented by silver, red and blue ornaments. Logs and kindling were set up in the fireplace, ready to be set alight.

It was nothing short of a miracle that they’d even been able to book this on such short notice. Honestly, she had no idea where and how Anna had managed to find this rental, but it was proving to blow up her expectations at every turn. Granted, when her sister had announced that they would need to drive roughly 7 and a half hours to get here, Elsa’s excitement had been mitigated, at best. Yet she also knew that its remoteness was likely what made the destination so affordable. And more importantly, now that they were here she understood there was a great deal of comfort in putting that much distance between them and their apartment in Ottawa, along with their roommates and friends. For the first time in years, it was just the two of them.

The thought brought back into focus the main reason they’d even decided to get away for the winter holidays to spend them with each other.

They had a lot to talk about.

Elsa glanced back, checking up on Anna who was pulling the toboggan they’d cleverly brought along to more easily transport all of their things from the car. She noted the unsteady grip and sought to deliver her from the icy wind.

“Why don’t you go get the fire started? I’ll get the rest of the stuff inside.”

The younger woman didn’t need to be asked twice, dropping the toboggan’s cord and hurriedly shuffling through the snow, running up towards the warmth of the house. Elsa half expected her to immediately disappear inside, but that was something Anna had no intentions of doing without first stopping to throw her arms around her older sister. Caught off guard, Elsa did not immediately respond, but after a few moments had passed, she hesitantly brought her hands up to embrace her waist.

“Thank you,” Anna whispered, her lips tickling against her ear.

Elsa shuddered, and it wasn’t from the cold.

✧✧✧

It had taken some time for the chalet to warm up properly after Anna had gotten the fire going, but that had suited them just fine. Elsa had fixed them up some hot chocolate, with a healthy splash of Bailey’s and a hint of peppermint, crowned with marshmallows. She’d glanced down, gaze softened by tender affection as Anna had curled up against her on the couch, strands of red tickling Elsa’s collarbone as their beverages had heated them up from the inside out. The cold outside was soon forgotten as the flames had roared up, hot air cradling their faces in conjunction with the heavy blanket they’d drawn up over themselves.

Elsa’s mind had soon grown restless however, the initial serenity engineered by the enchantment of their new setting dissipating as her thoughts had raced back to the conversation they’d kept on hold for exactly eighteen days (she’d kept count). Shackled by habit she’d wanted to slide her hand down to rest on Anna’s waist, fingertips seeking the hem of her sweater, but she’d taken forever before actually deciding to make a move.

At the time she’d found it easier to simply talk about the future than the present, telling Anna that they would need to set a reminder for the following day to try and witness the Great Conjunction between Saturn and Jupiter, which would this year occur on the Winter Solstice. She’d blushed sheepishly when Anna had pointed out that lack of light pollution was yet another reason she’d wanted to venture so far from what most people would commonly regard as civilization, knowing and understanding how beautifully rare it was to be alive for such a celestial event.

The as of yet unspoken words had continued to tighten her throat, preventing her from bringing up the subject she was so anxious to broach, but was terrifyingly paralyzed by. It hadn’t been until their drinks were close to done (without counting the occasional topping off with more coffee liqueur) that Elsa’s tongue finally decided to cooperate with her brain. Eighteen days had been far too long to chew on their last exchange about the matter at hand, overthinking, overanalyzing, second guessing everything that had been said.

By now, she felt pretty warm and she allowed the blanket to slide off her a little more, unzipping her hoodie, skin gently glowing with the flickering, crackling of the fire.

“Anna, I…”

She felt her sister shift slightly, likely looking up at her. Elsa wetted her lips nervously, knowing she had her full attention.

“We…”

The struggle was real, but she was glad there wasn’t any interjection coming. She made a mental note to thank Anna for her patience later.

“Firstly I’m sorry I cut you off so abruptly when we talked about… this, a few weeks ago.”

Perhaps it was a calculated nonchalance on her part but on the other hand she figured it would just sound strange to actually say ‘eighteen days ago’ out loud.

“And I hope,” she continued. “That you understand what I meant when I said that we needed to talk this out some more, I wouldn’t want you to think I didn’t feel the same way.”

There was a slight loss of body heat as Anna sat up a little straighter. It was brief, however, as she felt a hand gently grasp the side of her face, tilting her head down towards her sister.

“Elsa. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, you deserve clarity, I-“

“Elsa.”

Her lips fell heavy and she stopped talking, looking down at the dark intensity in Anna’s gaze.

“You think too much. And gods, I’m Twenty-five, not Fifteen. I know I’ll always be your ‘baby sis’ - oh yeah, I’ve seen your caller ID listing - but I’m not a naive, innocent little girl anymore. I understand.”

Elsa dared to lean slightly into the touch on her face, her gaze softening. She felt a thumb brush gently against the edge of her cheekbone and managed a smile.

“What do you understand?”

“I understand that you’re scared. Hell, I am fucking terrified. I understand that I want you in ways I shouldn’t, love you in ways beyond my mandate as your little sister. I understood with every kiss, every lingering touch we shared that night that you felt the same way. I also understand why you pulled away after I kissed your neck, because I know you, Elsa. I know you don’t trust yourself, I know you have so carefully crafted an armour and delicately cultivated a self-possessed facade to protect yourself from the world. And I also understand what it would mean for us, for our lives if one of our roommates or friends were to discover the truth. And I know it must have felt like torture for you to be so hyper vigilant about the way you spoke to me, the way you looked at me, the way you touched me and the restraint you exerted. I could feel the fucking fire coming off of you. So I understand why you said what you said - you were buying time, and I understand why you acted the way you did - you were protecting us both.”

Her eyebrows had risen and she stared at Anna, completely bewildered at what she was hearing. Though she was ordinarily loquacious, her sister was seldom ever so brutally to the point. More than that, she realized this meant Anna somehow knew about the feelings Elsa had harboured for her for quite some time. She wondered how long, worried that if Anna had noticed, others might have seen the crack in her tower of ice.

“You knew?”

That’s all she could manage and she felt ridiculous, knowing she was normally well-spoken and articulate, though one might have noted it was only when the situation pertained to matters impersonal, relative to herself. Her mouth felt dry and her gaze wandered briefly away from Anna’s eyes, to the crown of dampness forming at her temples from the heat that now enveloped them both, inside out. As much as Elsa appreciated the crisp, unforgiving sharpness of cold winter air, she knew Anna was likely very happy to be sweating indoors instead.

“I didn’t say anything because I knew being the big gay lesbian you are, you needed some time to process and a safe space to say your piece… but do you really think I begged you to drive 8 hours north into the sticks just so we could talk?”

Elsa’s mind went into overdrive as she tried to comprehend what Anna was saying. It seemed as though her brain was yet again trying to overanalyze, overthink what she was being told.

“What do you mean?”

She tensed up a little as she heard Anna’s exasperated sigh. Any doubts she had previously held however, were dissipated the moment she felt a thumb trace the curve of her lower lip, followed by a soft, delicate mouth pressing against hers in its wake.

Oh.

Her heart was now beating so hard she could feel it in her throat. The kiss electrified her body, lighting it up with a fire she’d never quite felt before and the sparks lingered on her lips. Even if her head had been clear and focused in the moment, she wouldn’t have been able to recall any previous incidence of the single act of kissing, sending heat and lightning in the pit of her lower belly. She’d had chemistry, good chemistry with other people even but nothing like this. There was no way the Bailey’s alone could be blamed for it and that thought both enthralled and terrified her. The hand she’d kept at Anna’s waist slid up the sweater, under her shirt, finding the velvety dew of her skin pleasant to her fingertips. How long had it been since she’d first realized she craved and longed to touch her sister in this way? How long had it been since fear had guided and controlled her every movement, shackling her most human needs and impulses to touch, to hug, to nuzzle the person she held dearest in this world? How long had it been since the guilt began to gnaw at her? How long had it been now since the constant mental self-flagellation, driven by self-loathing had overtaken her identity and so twisted and tainted her self-perception? How long had it been since she’d completely choked out any trace of spontaneity within her, for fear it might one day betray the repulsive, repugnant truth she’d come to believe represented her? How long had she allowed it to take over her life until it tainted every one of her interactions? Too long. Far too long. She didn’t know that the damage would ever be undone. But, here under the cast of the fire’s warm glow, for the first time in forever, her mind flirted with the idea of self-forgiveness.

For the first time in forever, she could allow herself to be free.

On some level it hadn’t fully sunk in yet, and even as she finally allowed this sort of contact, the habit of caution kept her gestures on a tight, controlled reign, not quite ready yet to forget herself. Fear and guilt were, after all, powerful enemies, bridling her every impulse even now as sharp sparks jolted through her nervous system, crackling from her lips combined to Anna’s.

It was a fortunate thing that Anna knew what she wanted though, and was determined to get it. Unbeknownst to Elsa, she too had been sitting on this obsessive craving for a fruit so forbidden she had to plan an entire holiday to finally get a taste. Elsa’s breath was shallow as she watched her lean back to tug her sweater off, discarding it to the floor hurriedly. Her nipples were visible under the fabric of her tank top and Elsa thought she might choke as she noticed them. Desire gnawed at the chains of self control. Sanity was packing its bags, ready to vacate the premises when she felt fingernails lightly scratching at her jaw line, flirting with the tender skin of her throat. Fear and guilt were beginning to lose their grip, inch by inch and by the time Anna was brushing up her thigh against Elsa’s side, they were out of sight and out of mind.

Finally, Elsa left the safe harbour of her mouth, lips kissing up the line of her jaw to her earlobe where she gently nipped, down the curve of her neck - all to the delight of Anna, who’s gentle mewling sent heated flames of need licking at the core of Elsa’s lower belly. Her timidity almost completely vanished, she pushed Anna back down on the couch, shifting so that she was now laying on top of her, and she lapped her tongue softly at the base of her throat. She felt Anna’s body arch beneath her and where the alcohol might have left them fairly tipsy, she was now tasting what it felt like to be drunk on power.

Unfortunately, the couch was fairly narrow and their hips bumped uncomfortably. She even tried to set a foot down on the floor to steady herself as she captured Anna’s lips and ran a hand ravenously along her side, but she quickly realized that the position would only lead to cramping and disappointment.

She looked around, one hand subconsciously pressing down on Anna’s sternum as if to ensure she would not go anywhere (as if Anna had any desire whatsoever to be anywhere else in the world at that precise moment). Her eyes lingered briefly on the fire and the lush reindeer skin rug by it, considering her options briefly. She smirked to herself but decided that they would have more opportunities and occasions for her to claim Anna by the fire.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just- what do you say we take this to the bedroom?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

✧✧✧

They’d had thrown as many more logs as they could possibly fit into the fire place, knowing the chances of either of them getting up in the night to keep it going were slim to inexistent. They’d paused only briefly once more to taste each other, touch each other in ways they’d, prior to that moment, barely dared think of, shamefully hidden in the darkest hours of the night. Hurriedly, they’d ran up the stairs, Anna having playfully lured Elsa into giving chase up to the master room, their clothes discarded erratically along the way, as they paused only to catch one another, fumbling with clasps and zippers, struggling with waistbands, insatiable in their kissing.

Inhibitions had retained a thin veil only long enough for her to notice the glorious, star-gazing window right in perfect view of the bed. Anna had been right about her liking the master bedroom. She did not linger on the thought however, her eyes drawn back to Anna’s features illuminated by the beams of moonlight flooding through the windows, an ethereal halo now wrapping around her features, lending her another worldly beauty. Overwhelmed and overthrown, it was like seeing her for the first time, again and she thought her heart might burst open with Anna pulling her down on top of her, the warmth of her skin immediately radiating towards Elsa.

She found herself hungrily kissing Anna, gaining in confidence with each passing second as she nipped and suckled softly at her lower lip. She smiled against her as she heard the little squeal of surprise this produced. Nails scratched over the nape of her neck, digging into her shoulders, and her sister’s smooth, bare thigh locked around her hip pressing her down against her pelvic bone, which elicited a gasp from the both of them. Elsa slid her tongue just past Anna’s lips whom promptly suckled it in, causing her to moan, and her body subconsciously rocked against hers.

Her hand slid down the side of Anna’s body, the tremor in her fingertips belying the nervous eagerness crackling hotly in every single one of her cells. The sensation of Anna’s warm, dewy skin against her own set her nerves alight with fire and she had to pull away from the kiss momentarily to check whether she were actually still breathing.

Another jolt of arousal shot down from her spine to her loins as Anna looked up at her, skin flushed and feverish, eyes come hither as she felt her hand coming up to tease one of her breasts. Elsa’s body tensed and her breath hitched, realizing just how strained her nipples had gotten, and how sensitive they were as a result. Her lips fell open as her younger sister teased it, sending sparks of pleasure radiating throughout her body, especially between her thighs. She shifted again slightly, her hip and upper thigh now pressing firmly against Anna’s radiating core. The heated dampness she felt against her skin was enough to cause a rush of wetness between Elsa’s own legs and she reached down again, her mouth seeking Anna’s neck. She kissed her at first gently, then intermingled with nips until she couldn’t resist the temptation anymore, following the thrumming of her pulse against her lips, and began to suckle at the skin, growling as she left her mark. It was something a little possessive, a little territorial, and on a primal level Elsa liked the thought of having visibly claimed what she deemed to be hers and if the way Anna mewled and gasped were any indication it seem she enjoyed it too. Given the nature of their relationship, they had to take full advantage now then, before any trace of it lingered and remained visible upon returning to their lives back in Ottawa.

Anna arched her body beneath her, causing friction in between their legs, as she began to subconsciously rock up against her. The hand she had been using to tease her nipple cupped the breast more fully, squeezing and massaging ever so gently. Elsa let out a little growl in response to this, and left a trail of love bites on her way down to a pert, rosy breast. She ghosted feathery kisses around the taut nipple, enjoying the feel of the divinely soft skin against her lips, spurred on by the sweet little mewls her younger sister echoed in answer.

By now, Elsa was humping softly against Anna’s thigh, feeling a blush creep up her neck at the realization of her own arousal. It was further compounded by the feeling of Anna’s wetness against her own thigh, as well as the nails now scratching up her shoulders, leaving scarlet trails on the nape of her neck. She hissed in a mixture of pain and pleasure flexing her thigh and rolling her hips a little more firmly. It was enough to coax her into giving a flick of her tongue over Anna’s nipple who inhaled sharply, and tangled her dainty fingers into the base of Elsa’s messy, platinum braid. Encouraged by this, she glanced up past the trail of darkly, well defined love bites she’d left, to find Anna’s head tossed invitingly to the side, eyes tightly shut in pleasure. It was enough to convince her to capture the aching nipple between her lips giving it an experimental suck.

Again, she shuddered and rolled her hips as she felt Anna arch her back up against her, and grip in her hair tightening further, which in turn provided a swell of confidence for her. Her lower belly clenched and she suckled a little harder, moaning as she felt the hard peak against the flat of her tongue. Hunger raged and she pressed more fully into any in every way she possibly could. Fire coursed through her when Anna briefly glanced back at her, eyes feverish and glassy, dark with desire, panting with her lips parted as she whispered her name.

“Elsa…”

Fuck - how was she so gloriously, ravishingly beautiful? How was this woman here with her, like this, offering the toned, perfect lines and curves of her body and the exquisitely harmonious features of her face? Elsa feasted her eyes, her senses, her fingertips, her skin, her touch. Her ears, her taste and even right down to her scent, as if she were afraid any moment now, this might all slip away. As if, she were afraid Anna would realize her mistake, realize that Elsa weren’t deserving of her. And in turn, it pushed her to be a more attentive, devoted partner in the discovery and exploration of her body, with the sole, fixed goal of bringing Anna to heights yet undiscovered.

Her hand reached down to caress the curve of Anna’s ass, squeezing and massaging it for a moment before lightly scratching up her hip, her waist, the side of her rib cage, then trailing along her arm, seeking out her hand. She laced her fingers into her sister’s gently, yet firmly pinning back down against the mattress, as her mouth switched from suckling, to worrying the nipple between her teeth. Anna’s breathing turned ragged as the hand still entangled in Elsa’s hair gripped tighter, nails digging into her scalp, and her heated, dripping pussy now humped up desperately against Elsa’s tensed, flexed thigh.

“More,” Anna whimpered desperately, which promptly caused Elsa’s free hand to find her other breast, fingers rolling the nipple between them. She felt her buck, which gave a pleasantly firm rub against her own, swollen, eager sex and her thigh twitched involuntarily, and squeezed Anna’s hand even as she kept it pinned against the bed.

They were close, she could feel it as much in Anna’s body as in her own. The buildup was coming to a head, and she gave one last heated lick before kissing and nipping her way back up the trail of love bites, up her throat, to the curve of her neck, to her earlobe which she kissed almost reverently, before nipping as she whispered in a husky, breathless voice. “I love you Anna.”

This seemed to do it for Anna, whom she could feel now desperately humping her leg, likely guided by reflex and instinct more than intent. She moaned loudly and turned her head seeking Elsa’s mouth blindly, wanting to feel all of her, give herself to her entirely, as her orgasm set her whole body alight, like fire raging through her blood, heat blooming from her belly and pooling wetly against her older sister’s skin.

With their breasts now pressed together, nipples brushing against nipples, digging into skin, and the intoxicating sensation of the power she’d just had over Anna, Elsa finally lost the battle with her self-restraint, her inhibitions discarded with no regard for dignity. She squeezed Anna’s thigh between her own, her belly painfully taut as she built up to her own perfect storm. It was her turn to moan in pleasure as Anna whimpered and mewled through her after shocks, looking up at her in earnest adoration.

“I love you too, Elsa so much.”

Light and heat blinded her for a moment as her body went still, her climax thrashing through her with an intensity she never guessed possible. Her heart raced and her pulse deafened her before she finally dropped her face into the nook of Anna’s neck, kissing it tenderly through ragged breaths.

The hand previously at Anna’s breast reached up to stroke her ember-coloured hair tenderly, smiling as she heard her giggle. As she recovered slowly, body still lightly trembling, she finally lifted her head up to share tender, lingering kisses, basking in their afterglow. She could’ve sworn she heard her younger sister purring but perhaps the stars in her head hadn’t cleared yet. Anna’s lips briefly left hers to kiss the corner of her mouth, up to her ear, whispering:

“I can’t wait for you to taste me.”

A surge of heat, and suddenly Elsa knew there was beauty in warmth too.

#elsanna #submission #december 2020 contest #prompt: warmth #lemon #cw: alcohol #cw: alcohol consumption

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filmbefore · 4 years ago

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MEET THE JEON FAMILY !!

mr. and mrs. jeon are two of the most reputation - obsessed people in the state of maryland . neither of them were born into wealth of any kind , but yearned for the luxuries and renown that came with multiple zeros in your bank account . both parents tried a multitude of business ventures and failed many times over , more often leaving the family in even more debt than they started with . they both tried to instill these success and infamy driven values in their three children , seeing their kids as even more routes to their familial success . but when their kids were anything but perfect , it just drove a wedge in their relationship . long story short this whole family has been in their flop era since day one .

ARTHUR JEON : FATHER

arthur has always held the kids at an arms distance , never wanting them to get to close . this was only made easier by the older man constantly playing a balancing act between the multiple jobs he would hold at once . when he was younger , he tried his hand at all kinds of odd jobs here and there , saving up enough money to marry his long term girlfriend . however , when their first child was born , both he and mrs. jeon decided that they needed a more steady income for their growing family . so , mr jeon took out a loan and decided to open a restaurant ! and you guessed it ! it failed within the first year . and that was just the start of all the bankruptcy that would follow their family for the foreseeable future . but arthur jeon is a shifty lil guy who has always been able to pull on people’s heartstrings and make a quick buck here and there when necessary . of course , having violet , one of the most naive people on earth , as a daughter was really useful for arthur . he had always been able to make violet believe anything he told her , even as she got much older . which is exactly how he manipulated his daughter into being their connection to a drug ring , ship drugs out to grayson , and keep his affairs a secret . violet also learned how to victimize herself through this man ! like , any time she would catch him doing something less than respectable , arthur would pull that “ oh i am just the worst dad ever . i have never been good to you , vv . you deserve better ” which would then put her in the situation of comforting him ,, which is when he would be like “ violet , i know you care for our family . if you tell anyone , everything as you know it will change . you wouldn’t do that right ? ” and suddenly she’s blackmailing the woman he slept with to keep their family together smh Men ..

CLARE JEON : MOTHER

clare jeon is the final boss when it comes to perfectionism ! she has been the one who has always wanted to keep up appearances so that her kids and her family were never seen as ‘ being without ’ because it would reflect poorly on her and her skills as a mother . with one new credit card after the next and money that they should have been using to pay the bank back , clare would constantly buy her kids clothes with money that they didn’t have and drive the nicest car she could afford when driving the kids to school . her standards for her kids were unreasonably high and she was not afraid to let them know when they disappointed her by simply not being the perfect image she had in her head . and unfortunately , violet lived to try and reach her mother’s impossible standards , coming up short every time . after all , the girl had a chronic case of middle kid syndrome and was frequently the butt of her mother’s internalized misogyny . even when grayson was acting up , it seemed as though clare would prefer to deal with his screw ups than give violet the time of day for her newest swim trophy . maybe that was all in violet’s head , but it still left lasting effects on her self esteem .

GRAYSON JEON : OLDER BROTHER

( DRUGS TW ) these two were thick as thieves growing up . they were only a few years apart in age and the little girl idolized her older brother . grayson almost acted as a loving parent for violet and their younger brother , ben . with the way their parents treated all of them , grayson knew that his younger siblings needed someone to just be there for them and appreciate their accomplishments . even when grayson began getting older and getting into trouble , violet turned a blind eye to the situation , choosing instead to enjoy their time together before he would go away to college someday . however , once grayson began doing drugs more and more often , violet began to distance herself from him in order to make herself look better to their parents . she hoped that if she began to treat him like their parents did , that they would respect her for being so mature for her age ! that didn’t happen . and suddenly , grayson was leaving for an indefinitely long trip to europe . and that’s basically where their relationship went down the mf drain because then violet became her family’s liaison between the ,, shh ,, cartel and grayson away in europe , just causing his drug problems to get worse and worse instead of helping him like a sister should . all because her dad lied to her ,, again ,, and said that him staying out there is what was best for grayson and what was best for their family as a whole . but now grayson is in the elites and violet is Scared as fuck because she knows she absolutely fucked him over !! anyway !!!!!!!!

BENJAMIN “ BEN ” JEON : YOUNGER BROTHER

violet has pretty much always babied ben because he was has always been her little baby ! he has always been a lot more quiet and skittish than his older siblings . think : charlie from the perks of being a wallflower . he’s very emotional and more than a little awkward around other people . he also has that typical jeon kid mentality of wanting to impress his parents so fucking bad , but he hasn’t really grown out of it like grayson and violet have since moving out . he’s still a senior in high school and dealing with his parents’ shit every day . but now he’s alone with them , making it ten times worse . he tries to call violet almost every day , just to be able to talk to someone since he doesn’t really have friends at school . but most of the time , he can only call violet when he’s driving home from school now since their parents won’t talk to violet anymore and would probably be angry as fuck if they found out he was talking to her still . idk bro the boy just can’t wait to go to college and get out of his parents’ house . sweet , sweet kid . love u ben

GORDON “ GOOSE ” TELLER : HONORABLE MENTION

( DRUGS TW ) okay i couldn’t NOT mention goose in violet’s family task because this man truly is like family to her . bennie covered most of it in their family task for goose , but i just gotta dive in some more from lil vi’s perspective . violet and goose probably met when she was around 12-13 ish ??? because he and grayson met at boarding school . and because goose was always kinda ,,, uh ,, iffy about his home life , grayson would invite him to come spend the summer fucking around in annapolis with him . he was very much like My Older Brother’s Best Friend in violet’s life , in the way that he would kinda pick on her and bug her but really and truly goose just reminds violet so much of some of the best summers of her childhood . she just remembers giving our gemini king a lil late bday party sometime in the middle of june . violet would probably bake a goose a strawberry cake with sprinkles all over it and some odd number of candles stuck here and there . she also remembers riding in the back of her parents’ car with goose and grayson up front , playing some music that their parents would probably kill them for listening to so loudly with the windows down . she remembers her , grayson , goose , and ben sitting on the curb outside of 7-Eleven drinking their free slurpees . god literally just so many memories i could go on and on and on . but like bennie explained in their task , violet and goose obviously did not remain very close after grayson disappeared to europe . especially since violet could pretty much assume where her older brother’s drug habits originated . she has always kind of held some sort of contempt for goose because of that . even now . she will never tell him that , but she has always wondered if things would be different if goose and grayson had never met . she and goose still got close at yale though after realizing that they are the closest thing that either of them had to family when all this blackmailer shit started . idk i just love them a lot

#elitetasks002 #𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 / tasks .

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daphneofhastings · 4 years ago

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Forlorn conclusions

A continuation of my Bridgerton AU.

“Why?” Eloise asked her when she finished.

Daphne shrugged. “I know not.”

It took her a moment to register her sister’s glare of disbelief.

“You mean you have never asked?”

“How am I to know he won’t just lie and deceive me again?”

Eloise pinched her nose, a thinly disguised gesture of aggravation that only served to aggrieve Daphne in turn.

“A lie by omission is still a lie.” It was an argument they had already.

“He informed you of his inability to have children.”

“He can have children! He chooses not to!”

“And why, pray thee sister, does he choose not to?”

Daphne looked away.

“Surely you must have some curiosity about the topic?” Eloise asked sarcastically.

“I tried asking him.” Daphne squirmed under her sister’s gaze. “Once. And he refused to discuss it. What more was I supposed to do?”

“Perhaps chosen to inquire as to his reasons prior to destroying your union?”

“I did not destroy it. He did when he deceived me.”

“He never promised you children, Daphne. From what you’ve told me, it seems he was quite clear on the matter from the start. While you in turn-” Eloise bit her lip.

“In turn, I what?”

“It is of no import. Forget I said anything.”

“Oh no, Sister,” Daphne snapped. “You have been so eager with your opinions so far. Now is not the time to withhold them.”

Eloise made a face, and Daphne pushed back the dread that if her outspoken sister was reluctant to say this much, then she, Daphne, would surely regret hearing it.

“You told your husband that you were satisfied with your life as it was. As just you two. That was not true, was it?”

“It was. I meant it at the time. Before I realized that he had been deceiving me, withholding from me-”

“Did you?”

“I did.” Under her sister’s gaze, she looked away. “I believe that I did.”

Eloise shrugged. “I know little about marriage beyond what you have informed me. I know considerably less about the affairs of the heart between a man and a woman. But it seems to me, dear sister, that if you had been indeed satisfied with your life as it was, you won’t have seized the first opportunity to get with child. You most surely won’t have done at the risk of losing your husband’s affections permanently.”

Tears sprang in Daphne’s eyes. “I did not think I would lose them permanently. I did not-”

Eloise put an arm over her sister’s shoulder at once. “I did not mean my words to hurt you. Forgive me, Sister.”

“How can hold it against you for speaking the truth?” Daphne admitted. “In public, he puts on an act that all is well. But in private? His grace treats me like a stranger he shares housing with. Besides asking after my health, we no longer converse. Or have meals together. Or in anyway occupy each other’s company. He leaves…” She swallowed hard, this particular ache more painful than most. “The house at night, and returns in the early hours of the morning. I have no knowledge of where he spends his time or in whose company he keeps.”

“His grace is a man of honor. Surely, you cannot suspect-”

“How can I not? He had a reputation before we married, did he not? If he will not permit me to fulfil his needs, then what else is left? I can be naive about most matters, Eloise, but not that.”

Eloise shook her a little, exasperated. “Perhaps, Sister, you should do less forlorn conclusions to your husband’s motives, and do more inquiring at said husband. It seems obvious to me that most of your difficulties arise when you let your imagination run away with you!”

===

“Where do you go at night?”

She hadn’t meant to blurt out the question. She had planned on leading up to it. First by mentioning the luncheon by the visiting Earl, then requesting his attendance at a picnic with her family at the seaside. But after hours of tossing and turning in bed (because apparently a few weeks of sharing a bed with her husband had permanently rendered her unable to sleep alone peacefully), she had heard his footsteps, and she had launched herself out of her room to confront him.

He paused, blinking as if shocked at her appearance. She knew she must look a sight with baggy eyes and wild hair, and a belly that distorted her figure. She loved her pregnancy shape, the signs that her baby was growing healthy and strong. But she couldn’t help wondering how she looked like to him, this man who never wanted this for himself. How she compared to the women of easy virtue that threw themselves at him.

“I did not think you concerned yourself about my whereabouts,” he said finally.

“Is this truly what our marriage will be for the future? You out all night to God knows where, with God knows whom.”

He blinked again, taken aback by her vehemence. A look of hurt crossed his face and she flinched.

Then his lips thinned. “Good night, your grace.”

“Simon,” she said quickly, that moment of hurt haunting. “Simon!”

He slammed the door shut behind him.

====

“He stays at the club, and drinks for most of the night, and then a carriage takes him home. Alone. His company is most forbidding. When Will gives him an opening, he is at the ring, boxing.”

Daphne closed her eyes against the tears that filled them. She should have been relieved. She was relieved. But she was also reminded again that she had once more ascribed the worst possible motives to her husband, and hurt him.

“Surely you must have some curiosity about the topic?”

She remembered Eloise’s sarcastic words. Her sister had been right. Daphne hadn’t wanted to know why, she had been too angry. By the time she was willing to see past her anger, her husband was unreachable.

She remembered Mrs Colson’s words about his own mother. How she died during childbirth. Perhaps that was why-?

“Sister,” Anthony said. “If the Duke is mistreating you in anyway, you must tell me. He may be your husband, but you are still a Bridgerton.”

“I just accused my husband falsely of infidelity yet you assume that I am the one being mistreated?” Daphne snapped.

Anthony sat back in his chair. They were in their father’s - no, Anthony’s - office, sharing tea together. At least Anthony was. Daphne hadn’t been able to touch hers until she got her answer from Anthony and by now it was too late.

“I assumed that he made an error with you.”

There was something in his tone that caught Daphne’s attention. There it was - a flicker of guilt.

“Brother, I beg you, reassure me that you did not say that to His Grace’s face?”

Anthony said nothing.

She clasped her hands together in her lap so she won’t give into the childish urge to hit her oldest brother. “Then I must thank you, Brother, for giving my husband more cause to hate me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Daff!” Anthony snapped. “You may be at odds now, but surely he cannot- You are expecting a child for goodness’s sake.” Something in her face sobered him. “Sister,” he asked almost fearfully. “What did you do?”

She looked at her clasped hands, blinked hard against the tears that plagued her so much these days. “I cannot tell you, Brother.”

“Then… fix it, whatever it is.”

“I do not know how.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton au

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kandyrezi · 4 years ago

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So, whilst I do love cold, calculating, put you in prison Reficul, what about the other side? A Reficul who is a completely selfish yandere, only caring about how you make her feel? Selfish enough to, say, cut off your pretty angelic wings to stop you from ever trying to leave, and using the feathers from them to make her new cloak? Perhaps if you learn to behave, she'll let you be her pet, or even let you touch it. If you try anything though... She'll remind you who you belong to.

yessss I definitely see reficul as a more lenient yandere in terms of like, punishment and such, but this version of her is very, very good~! i think it works best where the two had known eachother for a long time working under elux. this made me think about a potential scenario how exactly would poor, helpless darling/pet fall into her hands in the first place, which i then ended coming up with a whole ass plot idea turned into minific full of torture and all that fun stuff. :)

venus was always on top of the class, ahead and better than all of god’s other angels, or at the very least, how she perceived herself – the others might even have called her a bit… on the arrogant side, elux’s favorite archangel and pet – but they wouldn’t say that to her face. her eyes were an odd shade of crimson, as opposed to the tranquil blue irises the rest of their angels possessed, manufactured and sculpted after their god. she stood out amongst all of the others in a way.

romantic relationships weren’t common nor really a priority considering they were more like siblings in arms made to be war soldiers for god, but despite that, her and reader were still together. cue a jealous sol.

venus began to change bit by bit, developing a sense of egoism and self-importance reminiscent of elux themselves.

(it causes a bit of tension among elux’s other angels, as some are beginning to grow skeptical of her.

“oh well, i shouldn’t… um, speak ill of our fellow teammate.” luna muttered with uncertainty.

“does she think she can just skip out on training? what a self-obsessed narcissist.” mercury rolled her eyes.

the reader squirmed uncomfortably, uncertain whether to agree or give her benefit of doubt.)

it wasn’t until venus wanted to overthrow elux completely and possibly take their place as highest divine being, a war then broke out in heaven between two sides who split between siding with venus and who chose to stay loyal to their god. sol and venus were clashing against one another - sol was stronger by wide margin, but venus was relentless. an unstoppable force against an immovable object.

(“no matter what happens up in these heavens, you pledge to stick with me?”

“of course, venus, as long as we’re together.” reader naively promised in the past, not taking into account the meaning behind her words.)

their fight went on for a long time, until reader interfered and used their sword to thrust it from above and pierce into venus’ wings, effectively pulling all her body weight backwards and keeping impaled against the ground, which allowed sol to finish her off stabbing her through the heart and casting her out of heaven for good, falling into pits of the shadowed, forbidden realm of their world.

lzet, alibe, and mephir, having sided with the former archangel, were all gone as well. reader’s now former lover was gone and they were no longer that sweet-smiling angel once born after that.

. . .

it’s not until reader is captured by the demon queen’s underlings much later on. normally, she would let them deal with any intruders themselves as most aren’t much of a threat, but this time, she wants to handle them by herself. both reader and reficul are well-aware of reader’s past actions and reficul is threatening and pondering over what she should do with them now that they’re at her mercy in her domain of a dark and cold confined space they couldn’t possibly get out of.

“why don’t you just do what you were already going to instead of trying to intimidate me with your pointless monologue?” reader snaps at her.

reficul is calm and collected as always as she looks down at their tied up form, “eager to get on with it? very well then.”

the first bit of torture they receive isn’t even the worst to come; broken fingers, lacerations scattered across their body, ending with an eye gouged out their socket, the angel now resembling that of a child’s old toy that’s been tossed away when it’s too undesirable to be played with. the reader’s wings are tightly bound by the chains of her morning star.

“you betrayed us.” they manage say with disgust in their voice through the stinging of injuries reficul inflicted onto them.

“you betrayed me” the devil rebukes, “do you lie awake to ever think about if I felt the same way?”

“your sister did too.”

without warning, reficul’s cape turns into a pair shadow hands to wrap itself around their throat, tightly squeezing their flesh and cutting off airflow to lungs.

reficul’s tone then turns colder, more menacing, “you must still remember when you stabbed through my wings during my final stand against sol?”

without waiting for an answer, she releases their neck and walks behind them to yank her weapon with shift in velocity, their wings being forcibly pulled back as they hear the sound of something tearing and then audibly cracking, it takes less than a moment to register the hot, soaring pain that follows, something warm yet acidic to the touch running down their back. blood.

“venus, please--” their demeanor suddenly changes yet begging gets them nowhere.

“you have some audacity to call me that.”

she pulls even harder then by placing the heel of her boot against their back to gain leverage, it aches and burns like a steaming rod being pressed against the roots. they would likely end up passing out after no longer being able to handle their assailant’s bloody onslaught.

some time passes and they would later wake up still on the same cold floor to her voice.

“you made your choice. do you regret it yet?” asks reficul, sounding more like a statement, heels clicking like an echo through the four walls of the confined room, snapping them out of their daze, “i know you do.”

she’s wearing a cloak made of pure white weathers from their wings mixed with the color of their dishonor. red stains the last remains of dignity they had left before she destroyed and took them apart to punish them for their betrayal. now she’ll revel in watching their blood flow the same way they did when she was impaled and cast out of heaven.

“why do I find it so difficult to simply rid of you, i wonder?” she asks, circling around them as she hums thoughtfully, then stops abruptly.

“perhaps if you’re on adequate enough behavior, I’ll take you in as the family pet. there would be less use in just letting you rot away here.”

upon making a quick beeline past the threshold of the prison to retrieve a few materials to use on them. looking up, they see she’s holding a black, spiked collar in one hand, and a leash in other.

“but for that… we need to forego some training first to make sure you stay obedient.”

despite the... sordid feelings she harbors for them even after everything that’s happened, reficul is understandably less than pleased with them for not staying true to their word long ago, so this time, she makes sure that they will.

“now, stand up and pledge loyalty to your owner.”

#yandere x reader #reficul (mogeko)#funamusea #reficul #wow i am going through some of my old asks aaaaaAA #i momentarily forgot about this one but i'm back #>:3 #god there's always so much talk about ruining angels and their forms & i LIVE for it #ficlets

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solynaceawrites · 4 years ago

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Promise Me Forever [6]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 6/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante stares at his reflection in the mirror of his bathroom. There are dark circles under his eyes, his hair hanging in strands around his face. Three days' worth of stubble covers his jaw, and although he knows he should get himself together and make himself presentable, his stubborn streak makes him defiant. Because she will like it, and he's tired of it.

Not that he's tired of Lir: it's been a few weeks since she arrived in his shop, and to be frank, she has made a vast improvement on his life. Not just the cooking and cleaning and calling the plumber when the sink broke, but in other ways he can't describe. He finds himself working harder, acting better. He spends less time sleeping and more time getting jobs, stopped eating crap and drinking Jack and being wasteful.

It's terrible, and he hates it. When has Dante Sparda ever needed to take care of himself? Survive, sure. Food to eat and a roof over his head and a sweet ass bike was all he ever needed. Fuck, even that is better, because he suddenly can afford the good gas to put it in and she's been purring like a dream every time he goes for a ride.

He stares at himself and curses. "She ain't worth this," he mutters. A damned lie, but if you can't lie to yourself, then who can you lie to, right?

She has made him better in every way except one. Dante hasn't slept a full night since she's arrived. He spends his nights tossing and turning, thinking about her down the hall, picturing her hair and her smile and the way she wears a t-shirt cinched at the waist and god damn he has it bad. Except he doesn't, because he refuses to, because Lir is way too young and way too naive and way out of his league.

"Fuck," he curses.

Which brings Dante to his newest problem: he hasn't gotten his rocks off since she's been living at the Devil May Cry. It just never felt right, because as soon as he'd grab the snake she'd surface in his mind's eye, and he'd hear her tell him again that she was trained in the art of pleasure. What the hell did that even mean? He had no idea, but what he does know is he is about to burst. So, in an act of defiance, he grabs the bottle of lotion he didn't know he owned that sits on the side of the sink, tosses away the towel from his shower, and opens the cabinet under the sink where he has some dirty magazines hidden.

He places the first magazine he can grab on the edge of the sink, balancing it on one thigh as he finds a good picture. There, Miss June, her flirty cowgirl boots just what the doctor ordered. He holds the book open with one hand as the other pumps some lotion. But it's clogged, so he leans his elbow on the book, hooks the bottle under his arm, and uses his chin to press the top, letting a glob out and into his palm.

He lets it warm for a second, and that proves to be a mistake. Because, while he's standing there with his dick half-hard and Miss June's legs spread just enough to glimpse the curls between her thighs, the door that in his infinite wisdom he hadn't locked starts to open. There's a split second where he considers shoving back against it, but her shoulder is already between it and the jamb and he knows he'll hurt her.

So, he does the second best thing. With a strangled yelp, he whirls around, tripping over his towel and nearly going headfirst into the tub. There's a squeak from Lir, whether surprise at seeing him on the other side or surprise at seeing his bare ass or both he doesn't know, a muffled thud, and then the door slams shut. Dante pushes himself away from the wall he'd fallen against, listening for her, trying to gauge what she's doing, and his gaze falls on the lotion and magazine. Shit, if she caught a glimpse of either of those, then she's gonna have exactly zero doubts about what he was up to, and that makes his neck heat in a way he's unfamiliar with.

"Um . . ." Her voice, muffled by the door. "Do you . . . Uh." She clears her throat. "I can . . . I'm going to make some coffee."

"Hey, Lir, just—!" He takes a step, but the towel is still wrapped around his foot, and he goes down, his hand scrabbling for anything to stop himself. Dante ends up grabbing the shower curtain and pulling it down with him, the rings popping off and bouncing off the tile as he crashes to the floor, the curtain falling on top and the rod smacking him in the back before rolling away.

"Dante?" The doorknob turns, but she doesn't open it. "Are you okay? I heard a crash."

"Yeah, uh . . . just don't open the door. One minute." With a groan he climbs up, grabbing the towel to wrap around his waist, and once the important bits are covered he steps over the mess and opens the door.

At the last second he spies the magazine, still open to Miss June in the sink, and he grabs it and puts it behind his back. Lir looks up at him in shock, and he uses his free arm to lean on the side of the door jamb, trying to look casual. "What's up?" he grins.

"Towels," she stammers, and the sight of the red that colors her cheeks is the last thing he needs right now, which is why it makes no sense that he enjoys it. "Towels! I came in to bring the towels from the laundry. I didn't realize you were in here. I had music playing downstairs on the jukebox, so I didn't hear the water running, and, um . . ."

"Hey, it's all good. I was just finishin' up." Or trying to, he thinks.

She doesn't look convinced in the slightest. "Are you sure? I can put them away later, or . . ." Her eyes shift to the sink as she trails off, and he remembers the lotion balanced on the edge, and something in them flickers as they return shyly to him. "Do you need help?"

"Not the kind you can give," he says.

"What?"

"No, nothing." He straightens up, still holding the magazine behind his back. "Just tripped is all. Might need a new shower curtain though."

Lir peers around him, her brows rising. "Did you hurt yourself?"

I'm hurting, alright. "Nah." He steps aside and nods towards the counter. "Just put the towels there, I'll get them in the cabinet."

She squeezes around him, stepping over the shower curtain. After putting down the toilet lid she stacks the towels on top before turning around and grabbing the curtain rod. "Let me see if I can get this up so you don't trip again," she chuckles.

Dante uses the moment to toss the magazine into his bedroom, aiming it so it sails behind his bureau. With that taken care of, he turns back, groaning internally to see her on her hands and knees, hips up and facing him as she crawls around, collecting the curtain rings that had snapped.

"You know," she says, reaching out to grab one that rolled behind the toilet, and his mouth goes painfully dry, "my youngest sister, Ilya, snapped our curtain rings once, and my father used unbent paperclips until he could purchase new ones. And I'm pretty sure I saw a box of paperclips downstairs on your desk."

"Uh-huh." Her shirt slips down the arch of her back, revealing the smooth skin beneath. Dante knows he should stop staring, and yet . . . "Paperclips. Right."

"It'll at least get you through a few days until I can order you some." Lir kneels back on her legs, counting the rings in her hand, and Dante bites his lip. She even kneels straight, like how she sits, one of the hundred little things he's noticed about her over the days and days spent together, and it's freaking adorable. And he hates it.

She glances over her shoulder. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Uh . . . why don't you go find them? Then I can get dressed."

He points to the towel on his hips and Lir's mouth pops open before promptly shutting. "Oh! I'm such an idiot. Yes, let me get out of your way." She stands and walks past him to the door, but Dante doesn't move, forcing her to squeeze between him and the countertop. Their eyes meet briefly, but then she blushes and pulls herself away, and he leans over to watch her disappear through his bedroom into the hallway.

He waits until he knows she's gone to reach for the lotion. The moment his fingers touch the bottle, he hesitates; all he can think of is the shape of her body beneath her clothes, the gentle curve of her hips, and he drops his hand with a groan. No way Miss June, or any of them, is gonna cut it now that he's got her lodged on his mind, and he steps out into the bedroom and rifles through his closet—another strange, new thing, all of his clothes neatly folded or hung on pegs—until he finds something suitable to wear for a day off. Then he steps into the jeans and yanks the t-shirt over his head, deciding that's fine enough, no need for shoes.

It's not like he's going anywhere, anyway.

Lir is settled on the couch, two cups of steaming coffee on the table in front of her, her ankles crossed neatly as she studies the weapons hung on the wall behind the television. It's something he catches her doing often, though he doesn't think it's out of fear. She seems more curious than anything, and that suspicion is confirmed when she says, "Um, Agni? Rudra? Do you need to be dusted?"

He's startled to hear Agni reply, almost politely, "No, little lady, but thank you. We are still comfortable from our cleaning last week."

"Yes," Rudra agrees. "Thank you."

"Shouldn't be too nice to them," he says as he scoops up the coffee cup. Lir looks at him as he gestures towards the swords. "They'll start acting like they're important or something."

"Hey!" the brothers shout, but Lir laughs. "I think they're sweet," she says.

Dante rolls his eyes. He moves to sit at his desk, wanting to seem casual, but really he just likes to watch her. He pretends to read as she pulls out a notebook, making what he is sure is another list. Once in a while she stops to tap her pen to her cheek, and when she does that her tongue pokes out for a moment, and it drives him nuts how adorable it is.

The rest of the morning wears on similarly, the shop quiet except for when she asks him a question, or he reads her something that catches his eye. It's nice to have peace in the shop, he decides, and even when Lir snaps on the television, he loves how they can be comfortable together without having to do anything or say anything. It dawns on him that this is pretty domestic, and he wonders if this is what marriage is like. If it is, maybe he should have taken her up on her offer after all.

The door to the shop opens, and they both look up in surprise. "It's Saturday," Dante calls, standing up to go shoo whoever it is away. "Read the sign on the door. No appointments today."

"Dante," Lir says, quietly, and he stops and looks at her. Her face has gone very pale, her eyes very wide, and his first instinct is to protect her from whatever it is that's causing her distress. "That's . . ."

"I had expected a warmer welcome from our son-in-law," a woman's voice says, "but I suppose, given that we did not call ahead, it can be forgiven."

Son-in-law? He moves to Lir, shifting his gaze back to the door. Two people stand on the rug she had purchased last week: the first is a woman with mousy brown hair and pale green eyes, her plump figure covered by an immaculate dress like something from one of those Jane Austen movies he and Lir had watched last week. The second is a man, tall and thin, his pale hair receding the slightest bit from his forehead, his dark eyes looking around curiously. Like the woman, he's dressed in rather dated clothing, and Dante makes the connection just as Lir steps forward.

"Mother," she says, "father. What a surprise! We weren't expecting any visitors today, so you'll have to excuse our state of dress."

"Lir!" she cries. The woman walks across the room, arms extended, and grabs Lir into a huge hug. She plants a wet kiss on her cheek before pushing her back to look her up and down. "Oh, my beautiful girl. Let me look at you! I can't believe you're here, I was so worried!"

"Worried?" Lir frowns.

"Yes! I thought you hadn't made it, or something terrible had happened. You didn't write! I would have at least expected a thank you card or something. And then that horrible woman showed up asking about things and I thought, well she's gone and done it, my little girl has ruined our clan forever by failing to impress the son of Sparda. Why else would some stranger come around asking about the oath unless disaster had happened? But! Here you are, alive and well and—" She cuts off her monologue to give Dante a look up and down. "He does own shoes, doesn't he?"

Lady, Dante thinks, trying his hardest not to grit his teeth. "Of course he does," Lir replies. "As I said, we weren't expecting company today, so—"

"Yes, yes, yes, of course." The woman smiles, though there's something sharp to it. "Aren't you going to introduce us properly?"

Lir takes a deep breath, a sign of irritation he recognizes, and it feeds into his own in a way it shouldn't. "Mother, father, this is Dante, son of Sparda. Dante, this is Lorenna, my mother, and Augustus, my father."

"Very pleased to meet you," Augustus says pleasantly. "I do apologize for dropping in on you like this. When weeks went by without a word from Lirael, Lorenna became rather distraught. We were expecting some sort of confirmation of marriage, you see."

They both look at him expectantly, and Dante realizes they are waiting for him to speak. "What?"

The woman leans in towards Lir. "Not very intelligent, is he?" she murmurs loudly.

"Mother!"

Lorenna waves her off. She walks over to Dante and stretches up, giving a little wave. "Nice. To. Meeeet. Youuu," she says, exaggerating each word.

Lir covers her face. "Mother, what are you doing?"

"He's part demon, dear, does he even speak English?"

"Rather well, actually," Dante says sharply. Lorenna's eyes narrow, but his last concern is how someone like her feels, Lir's mother or not. "Lir didn't write because she's been settlin' in, figurin' things out."

"Oh! Oh, of course. I do suppose it must take some adjusting, and she was always a willful thing. Augustus spoiled her rotten, you see, which is why we were in such a panic to get her trained properly before she left." Stepping back, she gestures to Lir, standing miserably by her father. "See? The moment I do something she doesn't like, it's right off to him she goes."

Dante opens his mouth to argue, but Lir lifts her chin and walks over. "Won't you sit?" she asks tightly. "Can I get you something?"

"Go make tea," Lorenna says as she sits on the couch. "Oh," she frowns. "Isn't this . . . an interesting material."

Dante turns to glare at Lir, who glares at him back, and then they both turn to walk quickly to the kitchen. He pushes her inside and holds the door closed behind them, hissing at her, "What are they doing here?"

"I don't know!" she wails, leaning against the countertop, holding her head in her hands. "This is a disaster! There is no way my mother isn't going to know we aren't getting married."

"So what?" Dante says.

Lir looks at him furiously. "They'll make me leave, Dante. If I'm a failure at this, which technically I am, then they'll make me go home."

"The hell they will," he growls. "I'll go set them straight right now."

He turns to stalk back to the office, but Lir grabs his arm and tugs hard. "No, please! Just let me think before you go barging out there!"

The pleading look in her eyes, the desperation in her voice, both of them make him try to get a grip on himself. "Make the tea," he says lowly, "and think. I'll try to buy you some time."

"Dante! Dante, wait—"

He steps back into the office and makes his way to the couches, taking the one not occupied by Lir's parents. Her mother's nose is wrinkled faintly as she studies the television, but her father still seems merely intrigued by his surroundings, and it's easy enough to see which of them had the most influence on how she views the world around her. "So," he says, "you mentioned getting married?"

"That girl!" Lorenna tuts. "Don’t tell me she’s gone and done it without being married first. What will people think?"

"She was probably only busy, dear," Augustus interjects mildly. To Dante, he says, "I'm certain she's told you of Ler?" Dante nods. "Good. Well, it is through him that the horrors of the sea are kept locked away, but that spell has been slowly weakening over the years. The promise between him and Sparda, your father, served two purposes: a reward for Ler's help, and a way to renew the wards before they shatter completely."

Lorenna pats her husband's leg. "Oh, enough about all that! You can talk about that later." She turns with a huge smile to Dante. "So, you're the legendary son of Sparda. I must say, your father certainly took his time in producing a son for Ler's line, didn't he?"

Dante clears his throat. "Actually—"

"You don’t really look like him, not that there were cameras back then," she continues, laughing at her joke. "But the portraits we have do show some resemblance, around here . . ." She gestures towards Dante's nose, "And there . . ." She gestures to his eyes, "Although you don't have the, uh . . . well, the antlers. Which honestly is quite a relief."

"Sparda —"

"Although I have to say I did expect something a bit more . . ." Dante grits his teeth as she talks over him, gesturing around to the room. "One would think the savior of humanity would have been able to afford a bit better. But oh well! We can't all live in fancy mansions can we?" she finishes with a huge laugh.

"I think it's rather nice," Augustus murmurs.

"Of course you do, dear." Lir emerges from the kitchen with a tea set he didn't know he had balanced on a tray he was also ignorant of, and Lorenna fixes on her like a vulture. "Ah, here she is! I do hope you haven't forgotten how to make a decent pot of tea while you've been gone."

"Lorenna." Her father's voice has a faint edge to it. "Forgive her, Lirael. Our journey was more taxing than either of us expected, and you know how your mother gets when she's tired."

"Of course," Lir demures.

Seeing her like that, like she was when she arrived, sets Dante on edge. "Your parents were telling me about marriage."

Lir almost drops the tray, and Dante jumps up to grab it just in time. He frowns when he sees the deep blush on her cheeks, setting the tray down on the table as he watches her closely. Lorenna tuts as she goes about setting out cups and saucers. "Such a klutz," she sighs.

"She looks well, though," Augustus remarks as Lir hands him a cup. "Domestic life does look good on you, my girl!"

Lir flinches a bit as she pours, and Augustus turns to Dante. "Now you must tell me all about Sparda. I've heard so many stories about him. But first, how has our girl been treating you? Have you found her suitable?"

Both he and Lorenna look at him expectantly, and Dante blinks, not knowing what to say. He glances at Lir, who has gone pale, and clears his throat. "She's great," he says.

That seems to be the right thing, as Augustus beams and Lorenna claps her hands. "Wonderful!" the woman cries. "I want to hear all about you, Dante," she says coyly. "We saw you on the news, fighting those demons in Fortuna. What a business that was!"

"Did Sparda really show up there?" Augustus asks.

"Do you have any photos from the wedding?" Lorenna chimes in. "I'm assuming the civil ceremony was small enough that her own mother didn't need an invitation. Otherwise why else would my own daughter not include me on such an important day? And to the son of Sparda, no less?"

The flurry of questions leaves him speechless. Luckily for him, Lir seems to know how to handle her mother. "Of course I didn't forget to invite you, Mama, don't be ridiculous. We aren’t married.”

Her mother looks shocked, but Augustus clears his throat and says, “Well, of course . . . we’re just old fashioned and thought—”

“We haven’t . . . done that, either,” Lir says quickly, and Dante frowns. Why the hell are they so interested in knowing what they’ve been up to? Lir is safe and happy, isn’t that enough for them? He is about to say something when she continues, “I know how much you loved planning my sister's wedding, so I asked Dante if we could do a simple little thing here when you were available to help with it. I only got so caught up in learning about him and what he does that I forgot to send the letter."

"Oh! Of course!" Lorenna beams at her daughter. "Of course, a wedding to the son of Sparda deserves all the touches. I’m so glad you’ve decided to take my advice, I would have hated to think of you doing this your way." She lifts her cup and takes a sip of tea. "Now, Dante, I'll leave you and Augustus to talk while Lir shows me around." She looks around critically at the freshly mopped floor and dusted furniture. "I can already tell there is plenty of cleaning to be done, and I have no doubt the upstairs is a shambles. Lir was never very good at keeping house. If we're to have a wedding here, we'll need it in perfect condition. Unless you want a tour too, dear?" she asks Augustus as she stands, who shakes his head. "Alright then, Lir darling, let's start in the kitchen, shall we?"

Lir gives him a look that clearly means behave, and he inclines his head slightly to show he understands, the expression of relief that flickers across her face warming him quite a bit. Once the women are gone, Augustus leans back with a chuckle. "Always thinks she knows best, that one. Well, it's a heavy burden to bear, producing a suitable wife, and Lirael's being chosen ruffled more than a few feathers."

"Yeah, Lir mentioned something about that." Despite his irritation at these new intruders, he finds himself begrudgingly liking the open, affable nature of Augustus. "Sounds like you and your wife were busy."

"Mm, yes, all five of them were handfuls in their own way. Florence, our eldest, was the one raised from birth to fulfill this role, you understand, and so were Lily and Irene, but, by the time Lirael was born, we had given up hope on you appearing during her generation. If we'd learned of you even a week later, she would have been promised to another, and Ilya would have come in her stead."

Dante mulls over that, wondering what life would be like if it had been someone other than Lir, deciding he doesn't care to think about it. "Why do you call her that?"

"Lirael?" Dante nods. "Ah." Augustus steeples his fingers in his lap. "It's her name, though I had to fight fiercely for it to be. There is a . . . test of sorts that is performed whenever one of Ler's descendant's is with child, meant to test the potential magic of the unborn. Hers was the strongest in centuries. I thought it only fitting she was named after him."

"She was?" he glances at the kitchen with a frown. Other than some general healing things, Lir hadn't talked much about magic.

Augustus laughs. "Of course you knew that already! Must have been quite a shock for Lirael to show up at your door though. From what we understand, Sparda has not been seen in quite some time. Do you know what happened to him?"

Dante looks at him and shakes his head with a frown. "Ah well," Augustus sighs. "I would have liked to have met him. But no worries, we have detailed accounts about the transfer of power, and can take care of everything."

“Transfer of power?” The more he learns about this stupid promise, the more this sounds like something he wants no parts of, spells and ceremonies and transferring power now giving him a headache. His eyes go to the kitchen door again as Augustus continues talking, wondering what to do. If he decides to go back on Sparda’s promise, where will that leave Lir?

#dmc #devil may cry #dante sparda #lirael thorne #lir #dante/lir #dante/oc #dante x oc #dmc oc #dmc fanfic #dmc fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #story #myfic #collab #promise me forever #pmf

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