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iggydabirdkid · 1 year ago

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I've had the idea to write this Dragon Age fic for a while. Dreamed up and spurred on by a particular Oh Hellos album, the particular songs I've picked and rearrangement of which I will be using as a sort of guide and inspiration to this lot of chapters that i will be writing.

This first one went a lot longer than I thought, but it is so much better than the first version I had.

So! Here it is!

My Ao3

Title: Prelude

Word count: 6971

-----

You had been thrust into a role you were not meant for. Despite what Duncan had told you about needing new recruits at the time, you feel as if he would have preferred someone different. Someone whose tongue wasn’t as sharp as their blades. Or maybe he had been content with his decision, having not been able to recruit your mother however many years before, yet he had snapped you up as soon as it had benefitted him. It was either be conscripted into the Grey Wardens or be thrown in the Denerim jails and you would have died down there. More accurately you would have been killed in those depths. Just like your mother was.

Maybe you had been too hard on Duncan. He was the first human to be kind and you had done nothing to deserve the compassion with which he had treated you. You regret your attitude towards the man and now he was dead. Lying somewhere back on the fields of Ostagar. At least that’s what the Witch had told you.

You sit outside the small hut with your body having been restored yet the aches still remain, healed by magic the feeling of which was as familiar as your own. You sit with your back to the hut as you use the tip of your dagger to scrape out the dirt and blood from under your nails. You can hear voices inside, Morrigan and her mother. Flemeth. Strange pair to live so far out in the wilds but who are you to judge. Living out here, as far as you are concerned is far better than the squalor of the slums you grew up in. Out here you were free. Well, not exactly. Not right now anyways.

“You’d think that with the impending doom and threat of the world ending they’d cut their argument short.”

The voice startles you, wrapped up in your thoughts as you are and your blade slips, slicing through the top of your thumb. You let out a sharp hiss and glare up at Alistair to find him not even paying attention to your plight, instead he stands before you as he stares towards the cabin at your back. You huff and holster your dagger as the warmth of magic flows through your arm from your core and seals the small cut instantly.

“They’re humans. They bicker. It’s what they do. It’s annoying, but…” you shrug and shake your hand, sparks dancing at the tips of your fingers. Not like you can go anywhere quite yet anyways.

“Hey! I’m human.”

“And you’re annoying,” you give a fanged grin and he finally looks down at you, “What’s your point?”

“Oh ha ha.” He rolls his eyes and you crick your shoulders as you get to your feet.

“You have a point though. And I’m tired of just sitting around and waiting. We have a job to do. It’s on us now.” You spare a glance at the armored man, seeing his jaw stiffen and his body tense and you scoff before stepping by him and up to the aged wooden door barely keeping the quarrelling voices at bay, “Hey!” You shout and bang on the door for extra measure, “Stop trading insults and sort your shit out. We needed to move yesterday! The Darkspawn aren’t going to wait!” You step back and the door flies open, golden eyes framed by raven black hair stare down at you. You stare back unblinking and you swear you catch the hint of a smirk on those plum-coloured lips before she steps out on onto the slurry that this swamp calls a ground, “So. You coming with us?”

“It seems I have no choice,” comes the strained reply and you nod, turning and grabbing your pack from beside the stump you had been sitting on.

“Fine with me. I won’t say no to another magic user. And since Alistair seems to be shirking his duty as the ‘technically’ more senior Grey Warden, his opinion doesn’t matter.” Your words are biting and a touch caustic. This role has been forced upon you by circumstance and for that you were still a bit bitter. But by the creators you are going to make the most of this. You half-turn to look towards Flemeth who regards you with a gaze of faint amusement and a hint of something more sinister before the door is shut and she is gone. Strange woman. You shake your head and turn back, “Alright then! Onwards!”

+++++

You leave the tavern with one more person than you had coming in. Leliana is her name. A strange woman to join your even stranger entourage. Hair the colour of fire much like yours though a touch warmer. According to the speech she had given when you met. the Maker had come to her in a dream. You don’t trust in the beliefs the Chantry preach but you need people. And though she dresses in the robes of a Chantry sister you can’t deny the ferocity you had seen her fight with. Quicker with a blade than even you. And if she wants to live in her delusions, who are you to dissuade her? And besides, she may be crazy, but she seems determined. And chatty. Talking away behind you to Morrigan of all people. You can’t help the grin as you picture the brooding woman’s face, pursed lips and all. Alistair must be having great fun with this. Besides, between her, Alistair and Morrigan, you need someone with a decent moral compass. It helps that she’s nice as well, something you still aren’t entirely used to. And although you will never admit it aloud, you think she’s quite pretty.

+++++

You ask her about herself in the times at camp when all is quiet. She tells you everything you want to know and with any other person you would think she just likes the sound of her own voice. But she doesn’t seem to be like that. It’s as if she’s been alone for far too long and misses the interaction, the camaraderie. She’s an open book and you think she’s a tad naïve for someone who says she has travelled all over Orlais. However, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to her.

+++++

It’s a small thing at first. A simple gesture. A flower you find nestled in the hollow of a log split apart under Morrigan’s paw after an ambush had her shape twisting and reforming in an instant to that of a wild-furred bear. It’s a pretty thing. 6 delicate petals with a blood red center fading out into white and a pleasant smell that has you leaning in close. You reach out to pluck it from the dirt and rise to your feet as you turn it over in your fingers. She’d like this. The thought has your brows furrowing and your fingers clench, snapping the fragile stem. You catch the flower before it lands in the mud and cradle it in your hands.

“What do you have there?” a soft and curious voice asks from behind. You freeze up though only momentarily before you turn around and hold the slightly crumpled flower out to Leliana.

“For you,” you say, glad that your voice is even.

“A flower?” She smiles even though it’s a tad confused and still she takes the bloom from your hands, “It’s beautiful. And the smell.” Her eyes flutter close, “It’s so familiar…” She trails off and you watch as her nose scrunches up before her eyes fly open with a small gasp that had you taking a step back, “These were flowers that my Mother often used!” Her smile turns into a grin, “She would press the dried petals between the folds of her clothes. I would find them absolutely everywhere!” She lets off a laugh that has you own lips quirking before she stares at the flower and lets out a long sigh, “They smell exactly as she did.” She looks directly at you now with a smile like the sun, “Thank you.”

+++++

You bring her along every time you leave camp and as soon as you return you gravitate towards her. Asking her questions and her asking her own in return. You know you’re stand-offish and vulgar at times but she doesn’t seem to mind all that much. She tells you tales of her travels, of the minstrels and spies of Orlais. Of the bards. At one time you ask her why she left Orlais and how she ended up in a Chantry in Lothering of all places. And the answer she gives you is so clearly a lie that you don’t bother pushing for the truth. Not for her benefit, you try tell yourself. Though that is another lie. And the first time you hear her laugh at one of your wisecracks it sends a strange flutter through your chest. But you ignore it the best you can. For what could anything lead to but heartache and pain. You’re from two different worlds. It would never work.

+++++

“I am sorry.”

She approaches you one afternoon in camp as you practice a new form of magic. The flickering of flame you were imbuing into a dagger sputters and dies and you sigh before you turn to face her.

“You’re sorry?” you question. You can’t think of anything she has to be sorry for.

“I lied to you before. About why I left Orlais.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” You shrug.

“Not my place to ask.” You haven’t told her why you left Denerim. Why you were forced to leave. You’re not sure if any time would ever be right to say as such.

“Then I thank you. I did not want to talk about it before, but now… now I feel as if you should know. You deserve to know.” The added sentence sends a shiver of something through you, “I left Orlais because I was being… hunted.” You raise an eyebrow. Now this, is unexpected.

“…Continue.”

“I was double-crossed by the same woman who taught me everything I know about being a Bard. Marjolaine.” You watch a brief flicker of anger pass over Leliana’s face, an expression you’ve not yet seen her wear, “She was my friend and Bard-Master and I thought I could trust her. I was mistaken.” Her whole body is rigid and her fists are curled and she watches you closely as you speak.

“What happened?” you ask, ever curious about a world you know nothing about.

“I found sealed documents on the body of a man Marjolaine sent me to kill. The temptation was… too great for me to resist. Much like the Maker telling me to travel with you, it was if he was guiding my hand, as if I needed to know what the letters said.” She shakes her head, “Marjolaine had been committing treason. Selling all kinds of information about Orlais to many interested parties.” The laugh has you flinching, it is bitter and not at all sweet like the sound usually is when it passes through her lips, “Yet still my concern was for her still and the danger that would befall her if such information were to be revealed. I told her my concerns and she simply brushed them aside. Yet I kept my faith in her. Right up until I was shown those same documents altered by Marjolaine herself to paint me as the traitor.”

You’re reluctant to ask more but something urges you to inquire.

“And after?” Your voice has grown quiet, befitting of the heavy topic, but not of you.

“I’m sure I do not need to tell you what happens to those who cross paths with people in power.”

She does not, and her words have you thinking she knows more about you than you thought.

“I was offered a helping hand to free myself and I took it. I was furious-“ Part of her still is. You can see in in the way her lip curls every time she speaks that woman’s name, “-and I felt deceived, betrayed. But I didn’t seek Marjolaine. She would have had me captured if she thought I was coming for her, that I know for certain. And so I left and did not look back.”

“And now you’re here. In Fereldan with me, fighting a war that is not your own.”

“It is better than the alternative. Lying dead in an unmarked grave.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” A laugh. A soft one this time.

“I am glad also.” Her cheeks are red and now your face feels warm also and you look away, “I didn’t want to lie to you anymore,” she continues, “Not about this at least.”

“Oh?” you smirk and half-turn your head to look at her, “You have other secrets?”

“A lady never tells.” She’s grinning back at you and your laugh is a less than delicate snort, “Thank you Arianna.”

“For?”

“For listening.”

+++++

You’re in Orzammar, the lowest part, Dust Town as the Locals call it. Alistair and Morrigan are bickering behind you and Leliana is standing by your side and you hear her sigh. You raise an eyebrow and look up at her.

“Something on your mind?” you ask as you follow her line of sight to see what caused the soft exhale. Only to see a rough Dwarven man surrounded by a handful of strange pink and fleshy long-eared creatures that you have never seen before.

“Aren’t they just adorable?” When you look back at her she’s smiling, a faraway look in her pretty blue eyes, “I would love to have one as a pet, they’re just so cute.” She clasps her hands together in front of her and you’ve only ever seen her face light up like this when she’s incredibly happy. Or when she’s talking to you. You feel your heart ache in your chest and your eyes narrow as an idea takes root in your brain.

/////

“Leliana?” you approach her tent cautiously, your arms behind your back as you struggle to keep the gift hidden.

“Oui?” Her head pops out and she smiles when she looks at you and steps out the rest of the way.

“I uh…” you find yourself strangely struggling for words as she gazes down at you, “I wanted to…” you groan and huff and shake your head, “Close your eyes for a moment.” She does without hesitation and you see the way her lips quirk with mirth. Hidden from her sight you crouch and lower the gift to the dirt behind you before spinning, picking it up again, and turning back around, “You can open them now.” She does straight away and when she looks down at you you see her eyes light up with obvious delight before she lets out a happy squeal.

“It’s one of those bunny-pigs from Orzammar!” she laughs and the sound is wonderful and contagious and now you’re smiling too.

“It’s for you.” You extend your arms out towards her, limbs shaking slightly at the weight of the animal.

“For me?” she starts as she scoops the ball of pink from you and cradles it to her chest.

“I wanted to get you something nice,” you shrug, “To thank you.”

“Thank me?”

You can’t help the snort at her parroting your words back to you, “For sticking with me for so long,” you joke, “And for being helpful, and just for… well… just for being you I guess.” You have to avert your gaze with the way she’s looking at you and so you don’t see it coming when she leans down, and plants a soft kiss to your cheek. You freeze, your eyes widening as you slowly bring a hand up to your cheek and turn, mouth agape.

“Speechless? That’s a first.” Her smirk is playful and a bubble of laughter rises up your throat, escaping through your lips. You shouldn’t love her. You can’t. But maybe…

+++++

You wake up in the dead of night, your heart pounding and your head full of noise and a song you can’t quite recall. The fire is a dim crackle and you see the sleeping form of your companions spaced out in the camp. All except one. You let out a breath and get to your feet, stumbling a little as your vision tilts but you shake your head and make your way over to her. She looks up as you approach and the smile she gives helps calm your nerves and you take a seat besides her on the fallen log.

“You cannot sleep?”

You shake your head as you clasp your hands together, staring down at your boots covered in so much grime that their pattern is unrecognizable. And your heart aches a tad. You wish you didn’t get them as dirty as you did and part of you doesn’t want to wear them at all, if only to spare them from damage and ruin. But you can’t bear to take them off. Instead you grab the dagger from your side and reach down as you attempt to scrape off the dried mud from the worn leather. You hear a tsk at your side and look up.

“You’ll only damage them that way.”

You stare at her and her words sound like those of disgrace. But that is the thought that pops into your mind immediately, an internal decision brought forth by your upbringing and distrust in general and not of this woman who has shown you nothing but respect and compassion. And so you relax the iron grip you have on the hilt of your dagger and force yourself to calm.

“Then what do you suggest?” you ask and you hope your words don’t sound as strained as they feel.

“We have some extra water, and I have some herbs I can grind into a soapy paste. We can clean them properly.”

“We?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, if you would like my help I will be happy to give it.” That damn smile again and you look away when you feel your cheeks warm, giving only a nod in reply, “Lovely. I will get the supplies. If you can stoke the fire in the meantime, I’d appreciate it.” She stands and moves back to her tent and you turn your attention to the dying flames. A short spurt of magic and a strong exhale has the flames growing high and bright and you may have overdone it a little when the grass at the edge of the barrier of stones burns into ash. You grimace before you slip your boots off and cross your legs beneath yourself.

Soon enough Leliana returns with a shining bowl of some type of silver metal and an armful of cleaning supplies. You watch with interest as she places the supplies at your side before extending the bowl in her arms out towards you.

“Hold this please.”

You do as she asks, only if it is because you are curious. The bowl is full of clean water and you can only just make out your reflection, cast on this surface of ripples by the glow of firelight before you. You look just as muddy as your boots. You watch yourself frown and you uncross your legs in order to place the bowl on your lap as you continue to stare into the pale blue of your eyes.

You had never minded being filthy before. But as you look up and watch Leliana sit next to you, with your boots laying across her lap and her always clean clothes becoming stained from the mud-encrusted leather, you realize you want to be clean for her. And that brings a whole host of other feelings that only grow as she looks to you with a smile. You turn your head forwards and clear your throat but the soft laugh at your side has you turning your face away completely, shoulders tense and hands clasped tightly to the sides of the bowl.

She speaks no words to which you’re grateful and for a short time the only sound you can hear is the cracking of the fire, the soft snoring of those still asleep and the sound of bristles brushing against leather. You begin to relax in the silence, the stiff position you had been holding leaving your body sore. Beads of water occasionally drip over the side of the bowl and onto your lap but the heat of your magic keeps you dry and it’s only when you hear Leliana start to hum that you look at her for the first time in a while.

She’s dutifully scrubbing the muck from your boots and she’s doing a fine job of it, you can almost see the pattern beneath as the mud washes away and you realize with a start that her outfit is now soaked and grimy.

“Leliana, your clothes?” you point out with a sense of urgency and though the humming stops, her actions do not.

“I know.” Is all she replies and you can see the curve to her lips as she turns your boots over in her lap.

You’re confused, your face screwing up as you purse your lips but you say nothing as her humming starts up again. Instead you sit and listen and watch and by the time your boots are clean you notice 3 things. One, their grained surface is so clean they look almost new and you can see clearly the vine pattern snaking their way around the leather. Two, Leliana’s clothes are so dirty that you have no idea how she will be able to salvage them. And three…

You frown as Leliana places the boots by your feet.

“Leliana?” you start as you place the bowl on the ground and turn to look at the flame-haired woman, “Why did you need me to hold the bowl?”

She smiles at you and you can see her cheeks glow red.

“I enjoy your company.”

You’re not entirely sure how to respond to that.

+++++

You’re back in Denerim after so long. Yet you’re not here for you. Marjolaine is here, so close by and you’re doing this for Leliana. For her sanity, for closure, for safety. You know which house she’ll be in and as you stand outside the door Leliana is quiet beside you.

“Are you ready?” you ask her and she only nods. So with Alistair and Morrigan backing you up, you all head inside.

/////

“If it isn’t my lovely Leliana!”

The voice croons at you from the dark-haired woman across the room and at your side Leliana stiffens.

“Do not call me that. I know-“

“-I tried to tidy up the best I could in this shabby accommodation-“ Marjolaine interrupts and you blanch. Shabby? This is better than most Alienage houses, “- but hard work can’t fix all.” The woman smiles but its off. Wrong. Ill-suited to fit her face and it makes you feel uneasy, “It is so damp in this country. And it smells!” She waves her hand across her face as she screws up her nose, warding off a scent you can’t pick up on, “Like wet dog and unwashed bodies. Ugh. I’ll never get this stench out.” Your hand goes to your dagger.

“And it’s going to smell like iron soon enough if you keep talking the way you are,” you growl out as you feel a heat bubble up your throat. She leers at you.

“Little elf I am neither unarmed nor unguarded. There are others waiting and they will attack on my order. So for now we shall simply speak.”

Your anger at the slight is almost enough to overwhelm as your vision turns red and you go to take a step forwards before a hand on your shoulder has you stopping in place. You look up into ocean-blue eyes and a silent plead swims in their waters. This is not your fight. Not this time. You know that. You know that. Your breath shudders in your lungs and you take a step back to give Leliana the floor.

“You betrayed me Marjolaine. You broke my trust and almost my spirit but I am too strong for that, especially now. I thought here in Fereldan I would be free of your clutches, but that too was a foolish thought.” You watch her blood splattered hair move about as she shakes her head, “What happened to make you hate me so much that my death was a path you saw unavoidable?”

“My Leliana!” a short and harsh laugh, “What gibberish you are speaking before me! You are more than capable of killing a handful of men just by yourself. The intention was never to kill you!”

“Then what was the reason behind all of the pointless deaths?” You see Leliana’s hands clench into fists and her arms start to shake, though you don’t think she’s afraid.

“To give you motivation to return to me!” Now it’s your turn to butt in.

“You’re so full of shit!” you spit as your internal fire is spurred by her lies.

“I can see through your deceit Marjolaine,” Leliana adds just after, “Tell no more lies. Why are you here, truly.”

The smile on the other woman’s face turns sour so quickly that you blink and her joviality is replaced by a scowl, “You have knowledge that can harm me, even kill me. And you think I can just sit by idle while you waltz around Fereldan?” She scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest, “And did you really think I would not have eyes on you my Leliana? I never lost you.” She looks triumphant as you step up besides Leliana, “When you thought you had escaped with the clothes and the new hair and the ugh!” She throws her arms up, “I taught you what you know and you thought you could fool me?” You look up to Leliana expecting anger but what you find instead is… confusion? “I knew you were up to something and even when you kept to yourself I still watched. You thought you were so smart but I knew better. And when you left that Chantry as fast as you fled Orlais? Well, what was I to think?”

“You… you thought I left because of you?” The shaking in Leliana’s arms has stopped, “You thought I left to what? Plan my revenge? You really are crazy! Obsessive and controlling!”

“Yeah,” your sneer rivals the one opposite, “It ain’t all about you.”

“Oh!” The laugh is tilted and you know the sound of mania when you hear it. You’ve heard it plenty before, “I would not believe her if I were you. She speaks nothing but lies and she will use her honeyed words to manipulate you. She is no simple sweet girl. It is but an act!” Her gestures are wild as she throws her arms out.

“Do not project onto me,” Leliana counters, “I fled to free myself of your web. I will not be you, not ever.”

“You cannot escape it girl!” Marjolaine’s eyes are wild, hair unkempt from her gesticulations, “No one will know you better than I for we are the same!”

“Alright that’s enough crazy.” You draw your daggers, “Whatever venom laced words leave your mouth their fangs will find no purchase on my skin. I trust Leliana far more than your words could ever break and its only by her grace that I did not cut you down where you stand as soon as the first insult came my way.” You’re itching for a fight, your skin prickles and grows warm but Leliana holds out an arm to stay your rush before she speaks.

“Marjolaine you will leave this house and this city. You will leave Fereldan in its entirety if you know what’s good for you.”

“You think you can kill me that easily Leliana?” Marjolaine sneers.

“If she can’t I will,” you snarl, “It won’t be the first head I’ve cut off within the walls of Denerim. I suggest you leave if you don’t want to join the Arl’s son 6 feet under!”

The room is deathly silent and you feel flames licking at your fingers as you ignore the glance Leliana spares you in favour of staring down Marjolaine. She hasn’t taken her eyes from you and you have yet to blink. You hope that scares her, even just a little bit. A stalemate, no one moves, until Marjolaine sneers again.

“I will destroy you Leliana. And it will be as easy as it was when I made you what you are.”

She’s sealed her fate. As the doors previously closed fly open and her guards rush in, you surge forwards and the battle is afoot.

/////

You try to get into the Alienage after the fight, desperate to hear the voice of your father but the gate is shut and the guard refuses to let you in. Part of you isn’t surprised, spattered with blood as you are but this is your home. Even when you threaten him he stands still and your companions almost have to drag you away, spitting and cursing as you leave the city and head back to camp.

/////

“Leliana.” You approach her once the night falls and you are cleaned of blood and filth.

“Oh! Arianna,” she jumps a little before turning and she smiles, though you see her lips tremble as she clasps her hands together.

“I feel we should discuss what happened, with Marjolaine.” As if clarification is needed. She sighs and you both head to that same log by the fire, sitting side by side.

“I cannot believe after all this time in Fereldan she thought I was scheming her downfall. I thought I knew her once. And now I’m starting the believe that I never truly knew her at all.”

“I… I’m sorry,” you apologize and the sentiment feels strange to you, “I can’t say I know what that’s like in the same sense as you do but I know how the ruthless work far too well. But this isn’t about me,” you shake your head, “How can I help?” you offer.

“Just the fact that you are willing to understand and listen soothes my worried thoughts,” comes the reply and her hand snakes closer to where yours rests against the coarse wood. You look into the fire as Leliana speaks again, “I always knew she could be cut-throat and cunning but I never thought she would go as far as this. All her life she has used people for her own gain before throwing them away or… or making them disappear when they have outgrown their usefulness. I think…” she hesitates, “I think I may have been her tool in a handle of such cases, now that I think back but…” You hear a soft sniff and you whip your head back around, eyes wide and you see Leliana wipe at her face, “What if what she said was true? That we are the same? I was happy when I left and when I started on my path to become a Chantry sister I was happy and safe, not having to look over my shoulder and it felt like such a weight had been lifted!” A brief smile as her eyes glaze over before the clouds clear and she look at you, “It’ll ruin me. This life. Just as it did Marjolaine. And I… I do not want that. I do not want to become the monster she was.” You tilt your head.

“What makes you think you will?” you ask with a frown. Although your interaction with Marjolaine was brief and bloody, she seemed a far different sort than this ray of warmth before you.

“I feel as if it may have already happened,” her whole-body shakes and you want to reach out but you stop yourself from doing so, “Her death was satisfying and a part of me…liked it.”

“Leliana, she destroyed your life,” you frown.

“But feeling a sense of enjoyment is what she would do!” You lean backwards at the outburst, “We have hunted down people down and killed them and there is a part of me that loves that and it feels as repulsive as it does invigorating. I-I feel…” you watch as she brings her hands up to her face, “I feel as if my sense of self, of all that is good and fair is fading and I don’t know what to do…” her voice cracks and your shoulders slump.

“That does not mean you are a bad person.”

“And how would you know?”

“Because bad people don’t worry about doing evil. And here you are concerned about the consequences of killing a woman who almost had you dead earlier today,” you can’t help the laugh that trails after your words, “You are far from being anything like her.”

Her smile returns and when she drops her hand her fingers briefly grace over your own. Her voice is soft as she speaks, “I can always count of you to pull me from despair.”

“Well if I couldn’t, I would be doing a shit job wouldn’t I? Surrounded by death as we are,” you grin and she chuckles.

“Thank you Arianna. You have given me much to think about.”

+++++

It’s your turn to stand watch a few nights later and you sit by the fire as you gaze up at the stars. You look for the constellations Leliana has spun tales about and you smile when you hear her emerge from her tent behind you.

“Beautiful night,” she speaks as she takes a seat at your side, close enough that when you shift on the spot your knees touch.

“It is indeed,” you reply but when you speak your eyes are no longer on the sky and she’s looking at you as well. The silence between you is charged with the weight of words unspoken. You open your mouth to speak but she beats you to it.

“Arianna?”

“Yes?”

“We are close yes?”

“You could say that.”

“I want you to know that I feel safe around you. Comfortable. And I know you had doubts about stepping into this role, but in my eyes you have done an admirable job.” A genuine smile eases onto your face as you feel your eyes water, “I have never truly had friends before but I feel we are as such.” Friends. Why does her seeing you as just friends hurt? Even as you ask yourself that question you know why, “Close friends. In fact I…” she trails off and you watch as she turns to face the fire, you tilt your head as strands of her hair move to cover the alluring curve of her jaw, “I feel as if we could be more perhaps.” Despite yourself you feel your ears flickers and your heart speed up, “And unless I’ve read you wrong, I think you feel the same too.”

Your heart almost stops when she looks at you, her expression more serious than you’ve ever seen it.

“Leliana.” You surprise yourself with the laugh that leaves you, “I’m not exactly the most charming of people.”

“I’m not asking you to be.” Her hands are moving closer to your own. You do nothing to dissuade them.

“Then what are you asking?”

“I’m asking you to be you.”

For the second time this woman renders you unable to speak. Her fingers wrap around your own and you lean in towards her as she does that same. She’s so close your noses are almost touching. Warm breath washes over your face as your lips hover just inches away from hers and you surprise yourself again when you are the one to bridge the gap.

Your lips meet and sparks fly, literally. Small shoots of flame spit out from the growing fire and you’ve never felt like this before. Your inner voice of doubt is swept away by waves of bliss and drowned out completely as you reach up and curl your fingers around the back of Leliana’s neck. You pull her further downwards as the kiss deepens and you feel her hands on your hips and you know you shouldn’t love her. But you’re too far gone now to care.

+++++

You’re home. At last. After so much has happened. It’s strange to think that it’s been almost a year now since you were last here. Everything has changed, and yet nothing has. The end is drawing near. Death has been following in your footsteps since the beginning. You’re no fool. You can feel it in your bones as sure as the fire that runs through your veins. You’re standing beneath the great boughs of the vhenadahl as you hold your mother’s dagger in your hands, a gift given by your father after his life had almost come to an end. The thought has your hands tightening on the leather hilt until a familiar figure draws up to your side.

“It is a beautiful tree,” Leliana speaks and you place your dagger in a holster at your hip as she reaches for your hand. You intertwine your fingers without looking as you watch leaves rain down from up high.

“I used to climb it when I was younger,” your voice is a quiet murmur but one she picks up on regardless.

“What is wrong my love?” voice sweet and words soft and amongst the terror and dread of what is to come, the days of happiness and joy long since passed feel like poison in your veins.

“If I am to die in the battle to come-“ fingers tightening on your own, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath, “-I want you to bury me here. Beneath the roots and leaves. Give my body back to the earth.”

“Ari…”

“I hope it won’t come to that but I just… I need to make sure if it does happen that things will be handled.” You don’t look at her, you can’t, “My mother is buried here. At least if I am to die, if there is something after, I will get to see her again.” You can feel your eyes burning hot with tears and you move your free hand to wipe them away.

“I’m sorry,” Leliana squeezes your hand.

“Don’t be,” the laugh is breathless as you turn and look into eyes like the sky, “Though I think she would have liked you,” you smile.

“You truly think so?”

“Yeah. I really do.”

+++++

Your lungs are aching as you heave in breaths one at a time. The battlefield is a ruin alight with flames, the archdemon downed, collapsed on rubble not far from where you stand. Above the echo of battle below you hear a low deepthroated rumble and though the haze of smoke you see the blighted creature rear its head.

It’s still alive. But its minions are not and apart from the bodies strewn across the way, your route is clear. You’re not going to get a better chance than this.

You run, arms and legs pumping as you hear shouting at your rear but you pay the voices no mind as you continue your path, stopping only briefly to wrench a longsword from the chest cavity of a fallen darkspawn. It’s not a weapon you have used before but right now it feels as natural as your twin daggers and the sparks of flame at your fingertips.

The Archdemon sees you coming, its serpentine neck almost twisting up on itself in its attempt to face you, its mouth opening in a roar as it poises and strikes-

You drop to a knee with the blade pointed skywards and the dragons’ forwards momentum does most of the damage as the sword slices straight down the middle of its neck. It rears up and screeches, showering you with hot dark blood as it flails above one last time before coming down with a thunderous crash.

You take a breath.

One.

Take a step forwards.

Two.

You raise the sword above your head.

Three.

And strike.

The blade cracks through the Archdemons skull and from the wound a wondrous light pours forth. You’re not sure if you’re imagining it or if it’s an effect of fatigue or a sign of something divine but you’re here to do a duty. With all your strength you twist and push until you feel the blade meet stone with a jarring thud that reverberates all the way up your arms. Only then with the light bright enough to blind as two figures race towards you do you begin pulling the weapon free. It’s a struggle but you can’t allow yourself to fail. Not now. And as you look up to lock eyes with the woman who’s been with you almost from the start you feel empowered. You won’t fail. And with a final tug that has you stumbling back the blade is free. Before a sudden explosion knocks you off your feet completely.

………

It’s dark. Your head hurts, your body is sore and your arm is twisted beneath you but you can feel. Morrigan was right. It worked. You’re alive.

You lever yourself upwards with a groan, choking on dirt and debris as you cough and splutter and there’s hands on your back that keep you upright, keep you from falling onto your face again. They help turn you around and then you are enveloped in a warm embrace smelling sweetly of wildflowers. You laugh. Loud and happy for the first time in far too long and you wrap your arms around Leliana as you bury your face into her neck.

It’s over.

You won.

And you will live.

#not fallen hero #im quite happy with how this turned out #will be writing more to go with it at some point #dragon age #dragon age origins

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chasingpj · 4 years ago

Text

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬

"I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 4,931

warnings: none

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here

a/n: hi hi! this is part one of a self-insert series I'm working on. in this story, y/n is a child of hecate, and this storyline follows the books. the current timeline here is post sea of monsters and will continue through the Heroes of Olympus books. though it follows the original plot, y/n has her own storyline and quests. i tried to make y/n gender-neutral but as I continued to work on the timeline for this project, i had decided that this fic is for a fem reader. guys, this is really just me projecting my fantasy into fanfiction lol. i feel like this is a slow start?? and there is a lot of info dumped in this so bear with me. it'll get better and I'll be working to improve my writing as the series continues. I was on a writing hiatus for a really long time and I'm out of practice so this is my way to get back and hopefully, exceed the skills I had when I was a consistent writer. anyways, if you have any feedback, let me know! I'd love to hear what you think. as i get deeper into the series, i might ask for some suggestions on what to do with the fic. anyways, i'll stop rambling and i hope you like it!

Part One Part Two

You ignore the aching in your neck as your focus is fixed on the herbology book in front of you. You’ve been seated at your desk for Zeus knows how long reading and taking notes in your Book of Shadows, determined to finish reading it as fast as possible. Your half-brother, Alabaster, insisted that you need to memorize all the herbs and their properties before he can properly teach you how to use them in potions. Even though you understand its importance, you hated introductory work. You are itching to get to the real stuff, resulting in you glued to your chair, studying through the night as your cabin mates were fast asleep in their beds. But as determined as you are, Ambrose, your familiar, wasn’t much help. Ambrose whines as he rubs his head against your legs like a needy kitten, making it difficult to ignore him.

“What is it, Ambrose?” You whisper, sitting back in your chair in defeat. You take a second to massage the back of your sore neck before turning to face the translucent hound sitting attentively at your side. His tail sweeps the floor as it wags excitedly, and a short huff leaves his snout as if he was proud to have finally gotten your attention.

Your eyes meet his, racking your mind to figure out what Ambrose needs to tell you. At first, you thought he wanted to play, but you didn’t have time for that, so you decided to ignore him. Usually, after being ignored for a while, Ambrose will give up, finding something else to occupy him. But tonight, he was particularly persistent, and he’s only like this when he needs to tell you something.

Before you can ask what he wanted again, Ambrose gets up from his seated position, running over to the small table that stands beside your bed. You furrow your eyebrows, the first thing you notice when you walk over are your crystals neatly placed in front of your spell books as usual. Seeing them made you suddenly remember what you had planned to do.

You had told Ambrose to remind you to charge your crystals and collect water from the lake since there is a full moon tonight and of course, Ambrose being your loyal companion, did exactly that. Before looking down at the hound, who now is breathing heavily, his tail somehow wagging faster than before, you smile to yourself.

“I told you to remind me earlier, didn’t I?” Ambrose snorts and runs around your feet enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement as you reached down to pat his head. “Good boy. What would I do without you?” You continue to praise him, grabbing a black pouch and carefully placing the crystals in it. You put your index finger to your lips, signaling Ambrose to be a little quieter despite his excitement. If he accidentally wakes anyone up, then you definitely weren’t going to be able to fulfill your plans.

You bite your bottom lip as you tiptoe out of the aisle between the bunks. You look around the notoriously cramped Hermes Cabin to make sure your assumption that everyone was asleep by now was correct. It wasn’t hard to make out the faces of your cabin mates since seeing clearly in the dark was one of your many gifts, so you carefully walked along the bunks, being as quiet as you could. You are especially cautious as you approach the front where your cabin leaders, the Stoll brothers, slept. You study them for a second, knowing for sure Travis was asleep since he was snoring and loudly at that. Before you can check if Connor is asleep, you hear him shifting in his bed. You stand frozen in your spot, hesitantly looking over and you were expecting to be met with the usual mischievous grin. Instead, his back was towards you now. You have a feeling in your gut that he wasn't asleep, the timing of his moving was much too convenient. You really didn't want to wait any longer though so you decide that you might as well leave before he could stop you.

You turn on your heels, walking over to the window before you push it open. You cringe softly as the hinges creak, and you look back at the cabin to double-check if anyone has woken up from the sound. You sigh in relief when you see no one has moved, and you turn back to the window, carefully crawling out of it. This wasn’t unusual for you. You’ve done this so many times that using windows as a mode of exiting and entering a room was as natural to you as walking in and out of a door, and soon you were hopping down onto the grass. Your back is pressed against the cabin as you walk the side of it. You look up at the trees and the sky, eyes scoping around for any harpies hanging around. After deeming that you were alone, you begin making your way to the lake, Ambrose walking by your side attentively and cautiously to make sure you are safe.

The night was clear; the stars and especially the moon shone brightly in the sky. You sigh softly, taking in the stillness of the night, admiring the glistening lake reflecting the full moon placed above it. You’ve always enjoyed how quiet and cool the nights were, preferring it more than the daytime.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid it as much as you wish to. Most of your siblings can agree with you that they’d prefer to sleep in most days so that they can study and practice their magic at night. However, that wasn’t the schedule of the Hermes Cabin. It was pretty impossible to sleep in since the mornings were always hectic. In fact, the cabin was just hectic, period. There was always something going on, whether it was an elaborate prank or the guys arguing over who gets to shower first after coming back from training which usually resulted in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. You can’t say that you didn’t like it; at least you were entertained.

You also always had someone to talk to, and because there were often new campers coming in and out of there, you have easily familiarized yourself with a lot of the kids at camp. However, like your mother, you did enjoy and yearn for the occasional periods of solitude. As fun as living with the Hermes kids was, you and your siblings did find yourselves getting a little irritable at their shenanigans. It was at those times, you did wish that your mother, Hecate, had a designated cabin.

You and your siblings had always said if they ever got a cabin of their own, they would make sure everyone had separate rooms and would have designated spaces to socialize and practice their magic so that it was quiet for the most part. Alabaster, especially, was really passionate about this topic. He complained how it didn’t make sense that your mother wasn't recognized since you and your siblings were a powerful little bunch. You all needed a space to practice your magic and practice preferably at night since you were the most powerful at that time of day; you were also less prone to making mistakes in your spell casting at night. You agreed with him and would get upset about it sometimes, but the Hermes Cabin was a place you considered to be a second home. The communal feel of the space was something you enjoyed, it was one of the few places where you felt fully accepted which was rare to find being a demi-god with abilities like yours. In return to the Hermes Cabin welcoming you with open arms, you accept the inconveniently loud environment as an admirable quirk and went on with your days.

Then to compensate for the lack of silence and solitude, you would often stay up late, taking advantage of the quiet to focus on your studies. Even if you had to sacrifice the amount of sleep you got, you felt like it was worth it.

It doesn’t take you long to arrive at the dock, sitting down close to the end with your legs folded under you. You first collect lake water in a jar before carefully taking out the pouch's crystals. Assuming you had only a few left in the pouch after laying most of them on the dock, you tilt it with your hand under it, only for the crystals to come out all at once. You fumble, hands trying to bring them to your chest, but with your luck, one of your crystals falls right into the water with a plop.

“Dammit!” You peer over the edge and groan, Ambrose whining at your misfortune as he stands beside you. You look down at the water, noticing Ambrose’s and your dim reflection in it. There was no way you could get that crystal now because you didn't know how to swim, and you consider that maybe tomorrow you can convince your twin brother, Atticus, to look for it or Alabaster if Atticus refused, which you were expecting him to.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat, jumping back as a head of dark hair abruptly pops up from right where you were staring. Ambrose barks loudly next to you, equally as startled, and your eyes widen. You stand up hastily at the realization that Ambrose's loud barks in the dead of night will catch the attention of the harpies, and right now, that was more important to you than the mysterious person that just sprouted up in the water like a zombie coming out of a grave.

“Shush! Ambrose, quiet!” Your frantic command was enough to make him stop with a whine, and you sigh shakily, turning towards the camp to check if there were any harpies.

“I think you dropped something.” Ambrose moves in front of you protectively, a low growl coming from his chest as he cautiously studies the person. You look back where the voice came from and to your surprise and your relief, you find that the mysterious person in the lake was no other than Percy Jackson. You never had a conversation with him before, but you definitely knew about him. It was kind of hard not to know who he is since he’s been the talk of the camp since he’s arrived. Your thoughts about him weren’t any different from most of the camp. You’ve seen him fight and use his powers during capture the flag, and you were just as impressed as everyone else. You did have to admit that you found him to be pretty cute too. His eyes were gorgeous, clear, and bright like a shallow, cyanic sea. You also found it adorable how his hair always looked a little disheveled.

Your (e/c) eyes met Percy’s green ones before looking at your rose quartz in his hand. You smile sheepishly, noticing the amused look on his face.

“Ah, yeah, that’s mine.” You walk over to him, but as you get closer, so does Ambrose, and his growls get louder. "Ambrose, heel. It's okay," you say softly, and he stops in his place, but his stance is still at alert, his eyes watching Percy cautiously. You pat Ambrose's head before walking past him and over to Percy. "Thanks," you smile, taking your rose quartz from his hand.

"No problem… I don't think your ghost dog likes me," Percy jokes, moving to look past your legs at Ambrose, who’s standing tall on your left side.

"Yeah, well, you kinda scared the crap out of us," you point out, amused. You take in Percy's goofy smile as he pulls himself up from the water, and you notice that he’s completely dry as he settles on the edge before turning his body to look at you.

“It’s y/n, right?” He asks, and you nod, figuring he’s probably heard about you in passing from Connor and Travis since he was friends with them too. “What are you doing out here so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you retort playfully, making him smile. You move to sit down where you were standing. You spread the crystals neatly on the wood, making a mental note to get them before you go to bed.

"I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to hang out, but then a hippocampus swam up. One of its friends got stuck in a fisher's net not too far from here, so I went to help," he explains, and you nod. "I told you my excuse, so what's yours?"

You hum, "It's a full moon out tonight, so I thought I should take my crystals out. I also needed moon water for a potion, so I collected some for that," you point over at the big mason jar full of lake water. "It’s not as cool as your excuse,” you say playfully.

A short laugh comes from Percy, and when you look up from your crystals, you notice he was looking at Ambrose again, who was still in his tense stance. Ambrose was especially protective of you and Atticus, and it wasn’t unusual for him to be cautious of the new people you come across. You assumed that Ambrose was particularly tense with Percy since he had successfully caught you both by surprise.

"Ambrose, relax.” You pat the top of his head to soothe him. "Lay down." Ambrose whines, licking your hand affectionately for a little, and you can tell he was still uneasy about the other. He was hesitant, but he follows your command anyway, laying down with his head on your lap.

"You can touch him?" Percy asks, his eyes wide and curious as he watches you pet Ambrose.

"Yeah, I can touch ghosts in general. My mother is Hecate, goddess of necromancy, along with magic, the night and the moon," you tell him. "This is Ambrose. My mother gifted him to me to be my familiar, kinda like a guardian." You look down at the hound, smiling softly as you scratch behind his ear softly.

Ambrose is a burly Molossian Hound who lived in the time of Alexander The Great. From what your father told you, his breed was well valued in Ancient Greek and Roman times and was often used in war. It is easy to understand why the breed was used in war. Ambrose is huge and muscular, about 6 feet tall when he stands on his hind legs, and he weighs around 200 pounds. At first, Ambrose can come off as a little intimidating. You remember how your siblings had avoided him when you first arrived at camp before they realized that he was the clearest definition of a gentle giant. Even though he was trained to fight when he was alive, he was still as gentle as a well-trained house dog unless he was given a reason not to be.

"When did you get him?" Percy asks, his eyes focusing on Ambrose’s translucent body that looked like it is made up of this gray swirling vapor. He couldn’t exactly wrap his head around how Ambrose’s head was comfortably propped up on your thigh.

"We met on the night I was on my way to Camp so about 2 years ago. Without him, my brother and I probably would have never made it to the borders.” You look up at Percy, meeting his eyes again; you watch as his face softens as he shifts to lean back on his hand.

"Really?" You hum and nod, ready to drop the conversation there, thinking you shouldn’t bore him with the details. You didn’t really like talking about it much, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like he was inviting you to continue talking.

"We got separated from our father at the gas station a couple of miles away from here. He went inside the convenience store to get us snacks, and while he was in there, a cyclops had found us, tried to grab us out of his car. We jumped out and ran into the woods nearby," you explain as you look out at the dark horizon.

You remember the sound of your father yelling after you and Atticus and how it broke your heart hearing, for the first time, such despair in his voice. You knew your dad didn’t want to bring you guys to camp, but he knew it was in Atticus’s and your best interest to come here and be with other people like you guys.

When you and Atticus started developing your powers, your father had simply told you guys that you were special and to refrain from using your telekinesis anywhere else but home. He didn’t say anything more until one night, you and Atticus had gotten in a screaming match about a reason you don’t even remember. However, in your screaming match, the both of you were so angry that a green aura had formed around you both, and books, magazines, even cutlery were being flown across the room because of the sheer energy you were admitting as a unit. It was then your father had decided to take you and Atticus to the camp to control and learn about your powers before you guys destroyed the house over a dumb argument like who’s turn is it to have the TV remote.

"We were more concerned about the monster hurting our dad, so we decided on a whim to run in the forest. My brother and I have telekinesis powers, and I aimed well enough to send a rock right at the cyclops eye. We lost him a little after that, but we didn't know where we were. We made too many twists and turns; we had no idea what direction we came from. And then, this buddy appeared out of nowhere from a distance. I saw him glowing from far away and couldn’t make out what he was, but I felt that I had to follow him. So we did, and he got us to camp with no detours for any other monsters. He's been with me ever since," you say, and a low whine comes from Ambrose’s mouth as he nuzzles the side of his face on your thigh contentedly.

Percy nods, and he huffs softly, "You guys got lucky. How old were you and your brother when you got to camp?"

"12, we're twins. We actually got here a couple of weeks after you did,” you mention. You watch Percy’s mouth curve into a half-smirk.

“Wow," he says, amused, and shakes his head. “So you have a twin and a dead dog, no fair," he jokes. You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully,

"Oh please, and you have crazy water powers. You’re completely dry after swimming! I think that's pretty envy-worthy."

"Hey-,” he shrugs, taking a second as if to form a protest. “I guess you're right,” he admits and laughs. You laugh with him, opening your mouth to say something else but unfortunately, you were interrupted by a screech echoing in the distance.

Both you and Percy stand up quickly, trying to figure out which direction it came from. “The harpies,” you both mutter in unison. You bend down to grab your things, and you look at Ambrose.

"Go distract them, bud," you tell him, and Ambrose jumps up to his feet, and you watch as he runs away, barking to get their attention. Just then, you see the wings of the Harpies coming up from the trees of the forest. You turn to Percy, grabbing his hand quick,

“Incantare: Transpectus!" You exclaim confidently, closing your eyes to envision you and Percy becoming transparent on the dock. You've never tried doing this spell before, but you've gotten better at visualizing and setting intentions, so you had some hope in yourself. You open your eyes, not feeling any different, and you hoped that you just didn't make a fool of yourself in front of Percy. But when you look down at your hand hesitantly and notice it was hard to make out since you were see-through like glass, you sigh in relief. You smile to yourself, more than satisfied that you were able to pull that off.

"Woah, are we invisible?" You look over at Percy, able to see him just fine since he was under the spell with you. Percy looks down at himself, eyes widened as he processes he can’t see his body anymore. You observe him for a second, finding it cute how he looked surprised and obviously entertained at the fact that he was completely see-through. You feel yourself growing a little flustered, trying not to focus too much on the fact that you were holding hands with him.

"Something like that. C'mon, it won’t last too long," you whisper, and your grip around his hand tightens as you guys begin running to his cabin. You hear the harpies screeching in frustration as they swoop down to try and grab Ambrose, only for their claws to go right through him. While the harpies were growing more annoyed, Ambrose, on the other hand, was having way too much fun, running in circles and barking at them as if he’s teasing.

"Man, I wish I had a ghost dog," you hear Percy mutter behind you as you arrive at the steps of his cabin.

"Yeah, Ambrose is pretty great," you admit, watching him play with the harpies before shifting your gaze over to Percy. "Thanks for getting the crystal for me." As much as you wanted to stay talking to him, you knew you couldn't stay too long. You were still eager to finish studying, and Ambrose can only hold off the harpies for so long.

"It was no problem. It was on my way up anyways," he shrugs, and you smile, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You look down, the two of you still holding hands even though the spell wore off already. You awkwardly let go of his hand, shifting on your feet.

"Well, I'll see you around," you say sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, I'll see you.” His hand comes up in an awkward wave. You nod, returning the wave. Your eyes meet Percy’s green ones one more time before turning on your heels and walking down the steps of his cabin. You notice that Ambrose is now long gone into the forest, taking the harpies with him to give you time to rush to the other side where your cabin is.

As you hurry back to your cabin, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you replayed the interaction you just had with Percy, and you couldn't help but wonder when would be the next time you could talk to him.

You carefully hoist yourself up, climb back into the cabin through the window, sighing softly once you get in. You slowly close the window, your face scrunching at the creaking sound, but you successfully get it closed before turning around, only to be faced with Connor Stoll standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. You gasp loudly, almost dropping the mason jar in your hand, being startled for the second time tonight.

“Oh, look who’s back,” he says, his lips pulled in his usual mischievous smirk, his right eyebrow raised as if he's suspicious of you. You shift, giggling nervously under his graze,

"Hey, Con.” Shit. You knew he wasn’t asleep, and a part of you wasn’t surprised that he had caught you sneaking out again. You weren’t too worried since Connor wasn’t one to be strict or easily angered, neither was Travis, but you can understand if he did get a little upset with you since the cabin could also get in trouble, and he worried about you getting hurt.

"You leave so often, I'm starting to think you're seeing someone," he teases, and you furrow your eyebrows, not really sure what he was trying to get at.

"I'm not seeing anyone. You know what I do when I sneak out," you tell him, putting your hand out to show him the jar full of water. After being caught the first couple of times, you had explained to Connor why you occasionally needed to head out at night. He was understanding of your reasons, telling you to try and not sneak out as often. When he did catch you, he always kept your outings secret. It came with a price, though. You were sometimes stuck doing extra chores, especially anything that had to do with cleaning, since he hated doing anything that had to do with mopping or sweeping.

"So that wasn't you and Percy on the dock?" Your eyes widen, and you feel your face get hot again. You shake your head, stumbling over your words for a second.

"Uh… n- that was a coincidence!" You hear him snort, laughing quietly as if he didn't believe you. Even though he couldn't see your facial expression very well in this lighting, he can still tell how flustered you were at his sudden question.

"Yeah, sure," he says sarcastically, and he hums, "Anyways, what are you going to do for me so that I don't tell on you?" He asks, and your mouth drops open. Usually, he wasn't so forward, and he never threatened to tell on you. "I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

You gasp, "Connor, are you blackmailing me right now?" You narrow your eyes at him, and he shrugs,

"I guess you can say I am." You shake your head, walking over to your desk to put down your moon water before turning toward him and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"... what do you want?" You ask, expecting him to make you take up one of his chores. But from the way he was smiling at you, you can tell that there was something more he wanted, and you were beginning to worry.

"Help me turn the Ares Cabin into bunnies," he says, and you shake your head frantically,

"No way! Clarisse will kill me," you whisper. Connor smiles,

"No, she won't. She can't kill you if she's a bunny," he points out, and your face falls flat,

"They're not gonna stay bunnies forever," you say, and you fiddle with your fingers nervously at the idea of the outrage you'd get from the Ares Cabin after shifting back from being bunnies. "I don't know, Con. I don't even know if I can turn all of them into bunnies at once."

Connor waves his hand at you, dismissing your concern. "I don't care for the logistics now. We can work on that later, but you have to agree to at least help me," he says. "Or I'm telling everyone I saw you smooching Percy on the dock."

"What!? We didn't even kiss. We talked for like 5 minutes!" You whisper-yell, your reactions much too entertaining for him, and he was having a hard time holding in his laugh.

"Your decision, y/n."

You sigh, throwing your head back. You look at the ceiling for a second as you consider your two choices. And you decide that getting your head potentially put on a stick by Clarisse was better than the burning embarrassment of Percy thinking you're spreading rumors about kissing him. "Fine, whatever. I'll help you do the bunny thing," you mumble, your shoulders slouched.

Connor nods with a proud smile on his face for trapping you into helping him. "Good choice. I will be going back to sleep now. Good night… again," he announces, turning on his heels and walking over to his bed. You frown a little as you walk back to your desk to study. Plopping down onto your chair, you decide that you’ll worry about Connor’s little plan later so you can focus on your studying. After a while, Ambrose comes trotting in, joining you by the desk as usual. You smile at him, praising the other for distracting the harpies for you before he lays down, his head laying on your foot.

As you study, you find that you couldn’t help your mind drifting back to Percy once and a while. You deem that there was no way that you could have a crush on him since you guys have only spoken once. In the midst of your internal debate to decide what you felt for him, you suddenly remember the crystal that was retrieved for you. You remember how Percy presented it to you, holding it out for you with his fingertips. It was your rose quartz. What a coincidence. You smile, rolling your eyes as you tell yourself that you’re thinking too much into it. You look over, noticing the dim illuminating light of the beginning sunrise shining through the curtains. You sigh, deciding that you should probably get to sleep and take advantage of the maybe, four hours of sleep you’ll get tonight. You close your herbology book before making your way to your bed, and with a soft sigh, you retreat under the covers, and finally, you surrender to your drowsiness.

masterlist

#percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #connor stoll #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson fic #slow burn #friends to lovers #connor stoll x reader #percy jackson oneshot #pjo #my writing

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

#Jily #Part 1 #Of 3?#Honestly I just wanted to give you guys a treat

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theboredwritertm · 4 years ago

Note

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me", Din/Reader, please? Your writing is absolutely amazing!

Confidence

[Gif by: @bestintheparsec - It fit perfectly with this scene, but if it’s not cool that I used it, please tell me and I’ll take it down!]

A/N: Another nice and short fic for you all! I’m actually enjoying the shorter ones because I have the attention span of a toddler, and writing anything longer than 2k usually has me so hyperfocused that I won’t get anything else done until the fic is finished. My life is a shambles. Anyway… In saying that, I’m genuinely looking forward to getting knew requests again. I love coming up with things based on your prompts! I hope you like this, anon 💗

Rating: PG-ish

Pairing: Din Djarin x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of nausea, brief mentions of sex (no actual smut), a bit of fluff

Word Count: 1137

Summary: Pregnant and tired, you find you need a little help from your loving husband.

All you had wanted was a glass of water.

Somehow forgetting how big you’d gotten, you’d managed to turn around and knock at least three different bottles of liquid onto the floor with your protruding belly. You’re sure one of them has to be dish soap, since the strong scent invades your nostrils and has you nearly gagging. To think you used to enjoy little domestic things like washing up after dinner, and now, thanks to your over-sensitive nose, such simple things could have you running for the refresher.

Still, you can’t just leave it like this, where one of you might slip and hurt yourselves. Sighing at your luck, willing nothing else to go wrong, you bend over as much as you can while clutching the bench with one hand to steady yourself, and make a poor attempt using a dishcloth to wipe up the mess you’ve made. With your big belly throwing off your center of gravity, and your ass stuck in the air and swaying with every swipe at the ground, it’s the least graceful you think you’ve ever felt.

That’s when you hear a low, gravelly hum behind you – the kind Din only makes when he’s about to pounce on you. You snap back up to a standing position immediately, unable to think of anything worse right now than being manhandled, given your nausea and how exhausted you’re feeling. You couldn’t think of a time where you’d felt less sexy.

But try telling your husband that.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me,” his voice rasps, as he steps towards you.

You know that stride, the slightly predatory way he approaches, and there was a time when it would have made you weak. But you’re sore, and tired, and Maker you just wanted a damn drink.

“That’s what got me into this situation in the first place,” you reply, aware of how grumpy you sound and feeling slightly guilty for it. The sudden standing movement had proven a bad idea, and a dull pain is throbbing through your lower back. Your hand goes to rub at it, and Din’s stance and expression change instantly, any deviant thoughts evaporating at the prospect of you being hurt.

“Are you okay? What is it?”

He’d been fussing over you ever since you’d told him about the baby, hovering constantly as if the body he had once trusted to fight beside him had suddenly turned to glass. It had been sweet at first, but now it’s like you can hardly be trusted to walk to the refresher by yourself.

You’ll admit that since your belly has grown it’s gotten harder to do some things – like climb the ladder to the cockpit, or feel confident when you’re on top in bed – but you refuse to sit back and be waited on by anyone. After a lifetime of self-reliance, you couldn’t think of anything worse.

“It’s fine, it’s just my back,” you tell him, but his expression doesn’t change as he drops to one knee in front of you, his hands moving immediately to your belly.

“The little one is fine,” you assure him, and you can’t help but smile at the way his worried gaze is trained on the soft swell that has been giving you so much trouble. He rubs gentle, soothing circles over it with one hand, as he leans forward to rest his head against it.

“Are you giving your mother trouble, ad’ika?” he asks quietly.

“Taking after their father already,” you reply, smoothing his hair in loving strokes as you smile down at him.

He lifts his head and presses a kiss to your belly before moving his hands to your lower back and rubbing gently there. You emit a slow, relaxed hum and close your eyes.

“What were you trying to do down here?” he finally asks, and your eyes snap back open. He looks around at the mess of broken glass and splattered liquids, frowning, then back up at you with an amused twinkle in his eye.

“It’s not funny,” you tell him.

Your words have the exact opposite effect on him, though, as he stands back up and chuckles.

“I just wanted a glass of water.”

He reaches past you to grab a glass, his body so close you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. You’re sure he’s doing it on purpose, too, because despite how tired and achy you feel, your body’s reaction to having him this close is still that same as it always is, as a bolt of arousal sparks in your lower belly. He flicks on the tap to fill up your cup, smiling down at you all the while as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. As irritated as you are by his amusement at your expense, you still accept the drink when he hands it to you. You know the consequences of ingesting any amount of liquid these days will be trips to the refresher every five minutes, but you’d woken with a dry throat and knew better than to let yourself get dehydrated in your condition.

Your gaze remains locked onto his as you drink, your eyes narrowing suspiciously as his remain soft and full of warmth. He reaches up to cup one of your cheeks.

“You look beautiful.”

Your eyes narrow further. “Are you still trying to get into my pants?”

He laughs, and the sound proves to be infectious, as you lower the glass back down and finally return the smile.

“Always,” he says, “But right now I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Din,” you assure him, sounding weary, but you find can’t stay annoyed at him for long. Not when he’s looking at you like that. You think of all the wasted time that could have been spent gazing into those beautiful brown eyes if it weren’t for his creed, and you’re grateful now to be permitted to see him without his helmet now that you’re married.

You’d fallen in love with his courage, kindness, and his sense of humor and you’ll admit you had even developed a kind of attraction to the armor, since you’d come to associate it with him; but your heart had never felt so full, your love so complete, as when you’d finally met the person underneath it all. And you couldn’t be happier to be having his kid.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” he tells you, “I’ll clean this up.” He wraps an arm around you to pull you close and presses a kiss to your bed-mussed hair, and you feel your heart swell.

Some days it’s still hard to believe that this is the same man that you used to watch take down a dozen enemies on his own; a man who could intimidate almost anyone just by walking into a room. And although that version of Din still has a place in your heart (not to mention many of your fantasies) you find that you prefer this one – and you can’t wait to share the rest of your life with him.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin imagines #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #fic requests

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chibiwritesstuff · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I'm the one that asked for the Lilia and Malleus ask. I love what you wrote so much man! (My poor heart died 😂) I am a big sucker for happy endings tho. So when you get the time can I ask for a happy ending ?

Ha, my laptop thought they won against me but I came out victorious (even though I took literal months to publish this.) In my defense, all the versions I’ve written for this didn't suit my tastes (not that this is any good either.) Hope this makes justice for such a long wait. Here’s the sequel/good ending for the angst fic.

Now, let’s enter this twisted wonderland~

Walking past the now dying garden that used to flourish in Ramshackle dorm, he sighed as he reminisces about the times you two stroll and spends time together. It's been years since you’ve left NRC, He and Lilia are about to graduate tomorrow, Silver will be a fourth-year student and the new vice-dorm leader while Sebek will be in his third year and the dorm leader much to the said fae’s surprise. He chuckled at the memory of how honored and tearful the young fae is upon being selected as its prefect.

“I have so much to tell you, (y/n).” He whispered at the wind.

“Hey, Tsunotarou!” The familiar voice of the tanuki cat being called that long-forgotten name.

“Hey, Tsunotarou! Are we going on a walk again tonight?” You smiled at him, your hand extended as an invitation.

“Grimm, wasn’t it?” He crouched down to pet the said creature.

“Hey! I’m not a pet!” The flames on his ears flared, responding to his emotions. “What are you doing here, anyway? The roses are all dead.”

A wave of sadness flashed in his eyes as another memory resurfaced. Returning his gaze towards the dead flowerbed, he let the memory linger.

“Thanks for the seeds, Tsunotarou!” You excitedly began digging and planting said seeds. “To commemorate our friendship, these roses will be our friendship roses!”

“Yes, they are…” His hand ceased from moving before sitting down the ground. “It’s all gone…”

“By the way, I never managed to get the courage to ask you but why did (y/n) went back home crying that time?”

“I was but a foolish man…” The young heir steered his gaze towards the night sky before closing his eyes. “Had I just enjoyed the present than worry about the future, perhaps they would still be here and smile brightly like they always had.”

“I’m sure if you say sorry, they’ll forgive you.” Grimm responded nonchalantly. “They said saying sorry is the first step to forgiveness… or something like that.”

He chuckled and stood up heading towards his dorm. “If things were only that easy…”

That night, he slept and dreamt about you two walking in the bed of roses you’ve grown at Ramshackle. Loving every single moment that you two get to spend subconsciously knowing that once he wakes up, he’ll return to the harsh reality of you not being by his side.

“Tsunotaro, I think I have fallen for you.” You quietly said warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Will you let me stay by your side till the last breath I take?”

This is all but a dream… so I can keep dreaming, right?

“Yes, only if you’ll let me do the same.”

“Really?!” Joy showed throughout your being which made him smile back. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow! Happy graduation!”

He woke up gasping for air. That dream sounded too good to be true and yet… he can’t help but be hopeful. Putting on a happy face, he got dressed on what Lilia laid out for him and this time, everybody remembered to tell him the time of the celebration. He can’t help but laugh just thinking what your reaction would have been about the changes of the students' behavior towards him after he tried to socialize better. Heading towards the stage getting his diploma as odd as it is, he acted formally as he mingled with the rest of the dorm leaders until a voice echoed throughout the area.

“Tsunotarou!” Receiving a hug from the back as the voice caught him off guard, he turned still not believing what he’s seeing. “Congrats on graduating!”

“(y/n)?” His voice faltered, overwhelmed with so many emotions. “How? Why? I –”

“Uh-oh… Lilia! Your king here is having an information overload!” You called which made the said fae laugh out loud.

“How are you here?” He finally managed to ask. “The mirror –”

“Ah, that would be my doing…” Idia whispered but managed to catch everyone’s attention. “It was an accident! I was messing around to make a teleporter so I can just teleport to the store than having to leave the dorm but it ended up making people travel through dreams then I managed to talk to (y/n). Then we both decided we might as well try to make travel here and back to their world possible.”

“Looks like you did meet me once upon a dream, yeah?” You grinned at the joke about his ancestor’s song.

He merely hugged you, savoring each second of being around your arms. “I don’t have anything ready but if you’ll give me a second chance…”

He lets go and kneeled on one knee before looking up to you once more. “Will you be my spouse till the day you draw your last breath?”

Time is but a blink of an eye for fae and before he knew it, the Star Sending is happening once again. He was happy when Silver and Sebek were chosen to be Star Gazers albeit the mentioned students aren’t. He strummed his electric guitar with no particular music in mind as he lets his mind wander until his gaze dropped on a familiar mug.

“Happy Birthday, Lilia!” You grinned as you handed him a mug that said “No. 1 Gamer Dad” on it. “Hope you like it!”

His lips curled into a faint smile as he remembered that day. It's been a year since you left and yet it felt like it was just yesterday. Letting go of the instrument, he walked towards the mug and lifted it intending to fill it with tomato juice.

“How have you been, little one?” He spoke towards the image of you in his head. “I hope life is treating you better in your world.”

Without me in it… he sighed as sadness filled his chest. If I could change the past, or at least be given another chance… will you give your love to me once more?

“Old m –” Silver cleared his throat before entering. “I mean, Lilia. I’m here to take your wish.”

He took a deep breath before putting a huge smile to face his son. “Ah, yes of course! You know my wish. I wish for both –”

“Stop.”

This surprised the old fae as his son never raised his voice on him. “We both know that that’s not your true wish.”

“Silver, do humor me and just let me finish my wish.” He pouted, swirling the tomato juice in the mug before drinking it.

“Father, we all know how much you love them.” The young knight sighed before taking a seat on a nearby chair. “You always gush about them whenever we eat or do anything.”

“Oh Silver, I appreciate the concern but sometimes you got to let go.” A forlorn smile graced his lips.

“And sometimes you have to be selfish!” Both of them looked surprised at his outburst yet Silver regained his composure and continued. “You love them, right?! Then why not be with them? You took me in out of love, right?”

“There’s a big difference here, Silver.” Lilia rubbed his temple as stress starts to build up.

“What’s the difference? We’re both humans with a short lifespan so you can't use that as an excuse!” His silver eyes narrowing as he gazed upon his father before widening. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

He let out a defeated chuckle before nodding. “You’ve grown so much, Silver. I’m so proud of you, you know?”

“Why? You could have been happily living with them.”

“Because I’m afraid to witness her death if we ever do start a family together.” At last, the older fae began letting his tears fall in front of his son. “I don’t think I’ll be able to survive seeing her pass while I still live on. I want it to last for all eternity but to remove her mortality is too inhumane.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Silver lowered his head, having a little understanding of what he meant. “I didn’t mean to –”

“So, for my wish this Star Sending…” After a pathetic attempt to control his tears, he gulped and continued. “I want to be given another chance to be with them… and this time, I’ll bear the pain of losing them when the time comes.”

A shine of light filled the wishing star confirmed his wish inside the item. Silver walked towards him and let the man cry his heart out in his arms. He both felt sad and honored that Lilia is willing to cry in front of him. He truly hopes that his father’s wish is granted. Bringing out the wishing star, he proclaimed his wish.

“I wish (y/n) can return in twisted wonderland once more.”

“Silver, you didn’t have to waste your wish for this…”

“I don’t mind having a parent like them.” He smiled before heading towards the door with both wishing stars at hand. “They’re a much better cook than you anyway.”

“Hey!”

The day of Star Sending has arrived and everybody is once again by the huge tree behind NRC. It went well without a hitch and Lilia’s phone filled with recordings of Sebek and Silver dancing in perfect sync towards the taiko being played by Jack of Savanaclaw. As all students began returning to their dorms, the bat fae decided to stay a little longer and was given privacy by the rest of the Diasomnia students.

“Catch me, Lilia!” A voice screamed from above.

Turning his attention to the voice’s origin. His eyes widened before extending his arms ready to catch the person. A huge smile on his face as you landed safely into his arms. You let out a sigh of relief as you steadied yourself in his hold.

“Do not question why I was up in the air.” You huffed, glaring at the sky. “Safe landing my ass! I was dropped off 50ft up in the air!”

“My oh my, did you fall in love with me all over again?” He teased as he covertly wiped his tears.

“I saw that and maybe but I would still prefer a much safer landing.” You huffed before smiling at him. “What happened to the ‘I wish for world peace between all creatures’ wish, huh?”

“How did you know?”

“My coworker and I were trying to make a portal to get me back here because I forgot some stuff here to grab and funnily enough those wishing stars became our fuel source to open that portal.” You pulled out your phone and confirmed your arrival with a whole long spiel on how the landing would have killed you if you weren’t caught by Lilia. “But by your wish I assume there’s no need for me to get packing away from here?”

“Yes, if you’ll give me another chance.” He held out his hand, a makeshift flower ring on his palm. “Will you give me the honor of being your significant other?”

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imatechbummerliketomholland · 3 years ago

Text

sorry seems to be the hardest word - h.o

Word count: 3171

Warning: angst, swear

Pairing : harrison osterfield

Request: no.

N/A: It took me so long to write this. I remember i asked @soft-haz to write something with the "sorry seems to be the hardest word" vibe, it was so good! But i wanted to write something by myself too. Remember, english is not my first language, so be kind if you spot mistakes, i really try my best. Italics parts are flashbacks

Thanks to @petersasteria because she correct a big part of this fic! Love you. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Love you all! xx

ღღღ

part 2 (harry hollad x reader) - part 3 (harry holland x reader)

The few rays of sunshine in London today and England's victory over the Croats had improved your mood. Tom and Harry were home as soon as the game was over, they found you sitting on the couch with a glass of wine. You hadn't wanted to join them at the bar for obvious reasons: to keep your privacy as much as possible. Living with four boys was not easy, but living with four boys, one of whom was a world-famous actor and another in the midst of the media boom, was even more so. Of course, fans knew that Tom, Harrison, Harry, and Tuwaine had a female roommate. But you've always managed to never appear with your face uncovered in any media activity of your four-favorite divs.

The bottle was already nearly empty and you were already on your drunken streak, not wanting to stop when two of your drinking buddies had just entered. What a good opportunity to continue the evening.

"Will you join me, boys?"

“Mmm yeah, sure, love.” Harry said.

But a problem presented itself to you: the boys drank beer, you drank wine. You had two options now: either open a new bottle of wine for yourself or continue the evening with beer. Your eyes turned to your glass, spilling the rest of the bottle into your jug before swallowing it dry. Harry had a stunned expression on his face as Tom smirked.

"I see hanging out with us leaves its mark."

"You wish, Holland. I knew how to do it before I even knew you existed."

"You've known me since I was 19."

"And you think I waited for you to learn how to drink?"

"Fair enough."

You met the boys in a pub. You’ll never tell Nikki that, when you met them, her precious twins drank too many beers even if they weren’t old enough to drink (technically, they weren’t criminals, drinking beer at 16 is legal and come on, it’s England!)

❀❀❀

So, you met the boys in a pub. It was one of the nights when your friends and you wanted to drink until you're blackout drunk. You were in that pub/club, looking up after one of your friends. She had detected some pretty boys in the back and left you there, alone. You moved around the room without paying attention: glass in hand, your phone you stared at in the other. You suddenly felt an arm blocking your chest with force. The surprise had made you drop your glass.

“What the heck?!?”

“You will not pass, miss.”

“Oh yeah? Why? Is the pope there?” You said sarcastically

The man who stood in your way raised an eyebrow and you looked at him, waiting for a response.

“You are very funny. It’s a VIP space.”

“Once again, why is that?”

“None of your business.”

“Actually, I don't care if Sir Elton John is in that bar or if it's even the Queen of England. I'm just looking for my friend: tall, blonde, balloon-sized fucking boobs, red dress."

“Not seen."

You sighed. The situation annoyed you to the highest point. You had lost your friend and that big asshole had broken your glass. The man in front of you seemed to be marble. Short answer, arms crossed, and an imposing posture. All you wanted tonight was just to have fun. You didn't care that God-knows-who, any famous or rich enough to book a VIP space, was in that bar.

"Would the asshole that hired you tonight, at least be kind enough to buy me the glass you broke with your bullshit?"

From his side, Harry had noticed the altercation. He then walked towards you, he laughed when he heard you insult his brother through the bouncer's fault. And as the Colossus' bodyguard was about to tell you that you could always dream of getting that free drink, Harry spoke up.

“The asshole, maybe not directly. But the asshole's brother. Certainly. It will be on his check anyway.”

“For God's sake, what are you waiting for then?”

And just like that, you met the boys. Harry paid you for the glass that the other jerk broke, invited you to this precious VIP space and you could talk and dance the night away. You had exchanged your social media and over time, your phone numbers. And as fast as you couldn't imagine, you had found yourself stuck in an apartment with four adorable idiots as roommates.

❀❀❀

"Hey, y/n, where are the others?" Harry asked.

You grumbled and grabbed the beer the curly had just opened. He protested as you took a sip. Tom gave you a curious look and you frowned behind your bottle.

"y/n?”

"I don't know where T is, but Harrison's gone on a date with Gracie."

The two brothers exchanged a look heard in the face of the bitterness they had perceived in your voice. It was no longer much of a secret that you had feelings for Harrison. You had feelings for Tom's best friend for almost as long as you'd met him. Harry had noticed it first, because you were much closer to him than to Tom. The actor had understood at the start of an evening, at the beginning of the relationship between Harrison and his girlfriend.

However, you didn't hate Gracie. She was beautiful, kind, and very funny. She really brought out the best in Harrison, she made him happy and you could see that because of the distinct smile on his face. You didn't hate her; she just wasn't you and you just weren't her. And that was the whole problem. Jealousy consumed you and you hated yourself for it.

“Are you alright, darling?” Tom asked you since silence filled the room after your last sentence.

"I'll be fine after one more drink" you simply answered.

You took a sip of the beer you stole from Harry. Drowning in alcohol was certainly not the solution. But you just wanted to forget the blond a bit for tonight. Tom's worried look made you roll your eyes.

"Oh come on, Tom. Don't give me those eyes. I will be fine ..."

“Yeah, sure.” he said with a doubt.

"Can we just watch a silly movie or play a silly game to make my night better?"

Harry seemed to hear you as he shrugged and took a sip of his drink. He knew you by heart. At this point, he really considered you his best friend. So he knew you needed something to clear your mind. Something where your mind should be quick to think about.

“One,” he said nonchalantly.

"Two" you responded with a huge smile on your face.

"You are both stupid." the Holland elder complained about the game you had just started.

"You say that because you're a lousy actor who can't remember his lines. Play Holland!"

"Three". He capitulated.

And you continued like this until 21. Then, there followed a multitude of rule additions each time you reach the number 21. The 7 turned into "I'm a poor liar", the 18 into "I'd rather kiss a guinea pig" ... And every time one of you made a mistake, he drank. After an hour, the game looked like a strange conversation from the outside.

"Squirrels are scary, man." Harry said, mimicking his older brother.

"Black Widow is the best president of the United States" Tom said

"But she’s a bad lay." you responded, with a fake sigh of disappointment

"I'd rather kiss a guinea pig"

"Because you have no taste"

"Twenty"

It was at this precise moment, in the middle of the conversation, that Harrison decided to enter the living room. His blissful smile gave way to an air of amazement and disbelief at the talk between his three roommates. It was Tom who first noticed his best friend. He nodded to greet him. Harrison wore a simple black t-shirt with chinos. You took a look at your roommate and your cheeks flushed a little more than they already were.

"Hello mate! How was your date?" asked Tom with a big smile on his face

"Awesome. Can't believe it will be a year in 3 freaking days." Harrison said.

You could see his large smile, and blissful air. He was sweating happiness and although you were happy for him, it tore your heart. You purse your lips to avoid comment. Harry spoke up.

"We're playing 21. Do you want to land with us?"

"In fact, you can take my place." You got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen to drop off your beer drain. Harrison frowned as Tom exchanged a new look with his brother.

"y/n, you can stay, It's an unlimited players game." Harry almost begged.

"No, I'm tired. I'm going to take a shower and then go to bed."

“y/n” Harrison tried to call you to hold you back a little longer.

But you were already gone. You've never climbed the stairs so fast to run away from your roommate/best friend. Harrison looked at Tom and Harry, worried about your behavior. The curly one just shrugged his shoulders as his brother shook his head, silent. They weren't intending to get involved in this. You were the only master of your feelings and the time you'll decide to confess them to Harrison. That is why they preferred to be quiet.

☙♡❧

You spent the whole next week to avoid Harrison as much as possible. Established more distance with him was your solution to protect yourself from your feelings especially after his one-year anniversary date with Gracie and his absolute cute instagram post. It broke you down. Your heart was in peace but you couldn't blame him or his girlfriend. You were in love with the wrong guy, that's all.

But you couldn't hide from him forever. After all, you both lived in the same house, you had the same friends. So, it was hard to pretend he didn't exist.

Today was not your lucky day. You bumped into him in the kitchen. That was his opportunity to hold you down. He grabbed you by the shoulders, preventing you from burying yourself. Now he would finally find out what was wrong with you. Because Harrison wasn't a fool. He had noticed that you acted with him differently. Your behavior remained unchanged towards the other boys in the house.

“y/n. Don’t avoid me; please, please y/n, look at me”

You have plunged your eyes into its bewitching blue irises. Big mistake. You were drowning now in the turmoil of your feelings for the blonde. He had always had that effect on you, always. Tears started to bead at the corners of your eyes, you were biting your lip to hold back the torrent of tears that was already beginning to flow. Harrison's throat tightened at the sight of you like that and his hold on your shoulders slowly loosened.

“I hate seeing you like this. Please talk to me” he almost begged you

“Harrison…” your voice struggle as soon you pronounced his name.

“Please darling…tell me what’s goin’ on”

As a perfect angel, Tom was the one who saved you by interrupting this quick talk. You wiped away your tears with the end of your sleeve and run away to your room. Harrison sighed in despair. He didn't understand why you were running away from him like the plague.

“Dude, do you know why she's like that. What did I do? » He finally asked to Tom.

"I can't tell you Haz. She's the only one having the right to tell you about this"

"Bullshit. Fuck you all." Harrison said, frustrated.

Then he just quit, leaving the kitchen.

☙♡❧

Sunday came and Tom asked you all to spend the night with him before his LA trip the next evening. It was a normal night with friends. And despite your pent-up feelings and wanting to avoid Harrison at all costs, you didn't want to miss Tom, he was your friend.

There was only the usual gang: Harry, Tuwaine, Tom (obviously) and you. But the tension was felt within the group. The lingering unspoken words about your feelings for Harrison were beginning to weigh on all of your friendship. It was so bad that it hurts to stay in the same room as Harrison. All you could see was his constant happiness, this wonderful man he had always been but in a more radiant version of himself. And you weren't the cause of that. You hated it, you hated being selfish that much. You were ready to sacrifice your friendship with the young Netflix actor for two reasons: you wanted to protect yourself ... and you weren't ready to be that obstacle in the midst of Harrison and Grace's happiness.

You were in the kitchen with Harry, pretending to help him with drinks and snacks. The curly boy could see you dragging your feet, repeating like a mantra this phrase "come on, you can do it ... do it for Tom, it's his night. Don’t be selfish, you can make it." And you really wanted it ... have a good time with your friends.

Sometimes Harry felt guilty for introducing Gracie to Harrison. They worked together as set PA in 2018 and became close friends but not as close as you were with him. You considered him like your best friend. It made sense for him to feel a bit responsible for your broken heart. But you never said a word about it.

“I’m sorry, y/n” confessed Harry.

“For what?” you simply responded.

"For having hampered your happiness. I was stupid to introduce Grace to Harrison and ignore your feelings. I wanted to help my friend. "

"Bullshit Harry. Never apologize for that. You've been a great friend to Harrison."

"But not for you."

"Who cares?" you asked, trying to minimize your feelings

"Me ... you are one of my best friend y/n"

"Just like Harrison is your best friend. Don't apologize for making him happy. Fuck, I'm the one who should apologize." You said, with a tone of anger and despair in your voice

And that's how you crack, breaking in all your sensitivity. You couldn't hold back your tears from falling as you blasted everything that was on your heart. You don't even realize that Harrison is a few feet behind your back. The weight of your feelings, your anxieties explode in the kitchen as when a cup is dropped on the immaculate tiled floor.

“What I got to do to make him love me? What I got to do to make him care? Not as the sweet friend Harry. I’m deeply in love with him and it’s gonna drive me insane! What I got to do to make him want me? Huh Harry, can you tell me? All those question in my head…and no answer to that. And you know what? It's sad, sad situation…more than that it’s a shitty situation, because I'm getting away from him and it makes us sick. Because I'm unable to tell him why.”

“You just told me.” Harrison finally said.

You jumped for a second before you froze. Harry is caught off guard and rushes into the living room stammering an apology. You are trapped. You are trapped and you can hear the footsteps of your roommate coming closer to you, so close, that now you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. Gently, he places his hands on your arms and exerts pressure for you to face him.

"You love me"

"It depends ..." you replied with difficulty

"On what?"

"On what you heard before."

"Enough that you can't contradict me."

Her thin smile doesn't help you relax. Instead, you look down, admiring your two pairs of feet. You felt like being stripped naked and you didn't like that feeling. If you could have kept this secret in your grave. But now he knew and you felt even heavier than the Titanic.

"So ... is that it? Nothing more to tell me?"

"What do you want me to add to what you've already heard?"

"Sorry?" he tried.

"For what?"

"For what? y/n are you kidding me? Sorry for being distant with me, maybe? Sorry for hiding all these things from you? Sorry for not trusting our friendship to come to me and speak?" he exploded…

"What would that have been for, Harrison? You don't love me back…" you screamed back.

"I ... I’m ..."

"See, sorry seems to be the hardest word."

After that last ironic reply, silence fell in the kitchen. So was that it? Was that how your friendship was to end? The great giants of the universe had reserved this dramatic scene for you to break years of bonding. You didn't know how to get out of this situation. You didn't even know if there was a few more things to save. You were broken and had just spoiled the happiness of one of your best friends.

Harrison was silent. He seemed to be probing your body, your attitude, analyzing any gesture that might give him the opportunity to take a step towards you. But the solution was there, finding everything ... It was enough, for both of you, to swallow your pride.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" you echo your previous conversation

"Sorry for not feeling the same as you. For not being who you want me to be to you."

"You know ... I don't hate her."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Gracie. I don't hate her. She makes you really happy. I just hate the jealousy I feel towards her… I hate that I am not her. But I don’t hate her, she's a really good girl."

A small smile dawned on Harrison's lips, the blonde toyed nervously with his fingers and the ring he always wore as an accessory.

"Yeah ... yeah she's great."

"I'm really sorry ... about everything."

"It's ok. We don't control how we feel. I..I can understand"

"Yeah..."

"y/n?" he tried; a little bit shy about what he’s gonna ask.

"Mhmm?"

"Do you think we can be friends again?"

You bow your head, taking a minute to think. Was everything really broken? Were you going to be able to rebuild a solid friendship after this conversation? Were you going to be able to squeeze out your feelings? You sighed before plunging into those beautiful blue eyes that you loved so much.

"Maybe. I hope so with all my heart."

"I hope so too. And I hope you find someone like I found Grace."

"You can always dream. You dripping with love, it's impossible to find someone like you two."

"Don't despair. He might be closer than you think."

He winked at you and you looked at him confused. But after a few seconds, a smile appeared at the corner of your lips. No, you had no hope of him talking about him. But you were happy, because that little sentence opened the door for you to a bond that you were trying to find.

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x y/n

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batsandbugs · 4 years ago

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Bats Bugs and Boomerangs Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everyone, coming at you with another series! This is actually for a late secret santa gift exchange! My recipient was @m3owww! Her fandoms were Maribat and Avatar the Last Airbender, so I thought: Why not both? She already had a Maribat characters in the show type fic, so I created a fic where they watched the show. It slowly spiraled out of control though, so this is Chapter 1. I’ll eventually have the batfam (and Marinette) react to the whole series, so comment here and on ao3 what you want to see. So Phi, this is kinda like the gift that will keep on giving? Maybe? I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!

Our story begins on a frosty winter evening, outside Gotham at Wayne Manor. Marinette sat in the library working on an assignment for her History of Fashion class. She was alone, because Damian, Dick, Tim, and Bruce were out on patrol, with Barbara on comms. Tikki, unless eating or involved with a transformation, spent her time sleeping due to the freezing weather. While the other Kwami either resided in the box or roamed the grounds, and generally stayed out of the human's way.

Marinette gazed out the window, snow falling softly through the air, covering the ground and the tree branches. A crackling fire warmed the room. She shifted, and a painful ache shot through her leg. Marinette glared at the offending appendage, which was the reason she wasn’t out with the team tonight.

Her Miraculous could cure any injury sustained on the battlefield, it didn’t help her one bit when it came to her own natural clumsiness. She hadn’t paid attention as she’d walked out of class one evening. The dim lighting hid a black ice patch and she slipped and fell. Thankfully, her ankle was only sprained and not broken, but she would be out of commission for at least two weeks. Probably more if Alfred got his way.

Speaking of the elderly butler, he strode into the room carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

“Good evening Miss. Marinette. Need another refreshment?”

She sighed at the cold coffee dregs in her mug. “That would be nice, thank you, Alfred.”

He hummed, grabbing a teacup, and pouring her a serving. “How does your leg feel today? I notice you were leaning heavily on Master Damian after supper.” He handed the cup to her and the warmth was a welcome sensation for her chilled hands.

“Yeah, he’s been nice helping me around.” Nice was a misnomer, more like extremely overprotective. He point-blank refused for her to stay at her own apartment, mostly due to its location on the fourth floor with no elevator access. He all but forced her to watch him pack her essentials to bring to the manor while she recovered. Since then, his attentiveness in ensuring she had what she needed within reach and helping her to class had grown. It was a tad smothering considering his usual aloofness, but she enjoyed his actions for the affection it implied.

“It’s throbbing and hot and feels worse than it did three days ago.” She took a tiny sip of the tea and relaxed into its spiced aroma. Alfred made the best tea.

He nodded. “It will feel uncomfortable for a while until it starts to mend. Just continue to rest and remain off it and you will be back to carousing around the city like the rest of them in no time.” He poured his own tea and seated himself in the plush armchair across from her spot on the couch.

“Oh, Alfred you say that as if you would not be right there along with us if age allowed,” said Marinette with a grin. The stories Dusu could recount about the elderly miraculous holder were nothing short of entertaining, and she knew damn well Alfred had the same need for action as the rest of the Waynes and their assorted allies.

“I’d do nothing of the sort,” he said primly, taking a sip of his tea to hide the tiny smirk on his face. Marinette couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant silence. Despite the pain in her leg Marinette pushed through it and finished her assignment, while Alfred read until it neared time when patrol ended. He bustled up the remains of the tea and promise her a fresh cup when he finished seeing everyone arrive safely.

Later, although she could not say how long, she was buried deep in a book and didn’t notice when Damian entered the room until he sat next to her on the couch.

“Good evening angel.” His hair flopped in his eyes, loose and damp from the shower. In his hands, he held a tray with two cups of steaming tea.

“Thanks.” She took the proffered cup of tea with a smile. “How was patrol?”

“Boring,” he sighed. “You certainly are not missing anything.” If he wouldn’t have taken offense to it, Marinette would have described the look on his face as a pout.

“What about the drug seller Tim tracked to the lower docks?”

Damian shrugged. “Gone silent after we busted the last shipment. Seventeen years in and maybe the criminals finally figured out committing crimes in the same city as a relentless vigilante team is a bad idea,” he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Marinette couldn’t stop herself from giggling. It was a common joke among the family that Gotham’s criminals never learned.

“I think it means we’re doing our job right,” said Tim walking in with a steaming mug. Marinette opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Don’t worry, it’s decaf.”

“Like Pennyworth would let him drink anything else this time of night,” scoffed Damian, while taking a sip of his tea.

“I’m perfectly capable of monitoring my own caffeine intake, thanks,” Tim said in offense, seating himself across from the couch in the reading chair previously abandoned by Alfred.

“No, you’re not,” called a voice from the hallway. Dick walked in with a large mug of what was undoubtedly hot chocolate. “The last time he didn’t check your drink after patrol, you used coffee instead of water to brew another pot, and then added four whole bottles of five-hour energy. You didn’t sleep for three days.”

“I also solved five crimes, figured out where the Penguin was hiding, and streamlined the dropbox submission system for Wayne Industries. Life requires tradeoffs.”

“No that’s just you, ignoring basic human necessities. Anyway, besides Tim’s caffeine addiction, what are we talking about?” asked Dick.

“The reason for the lack of crime,” offered Marinette.

Dick shrugged, “Happens every year because of the weather. Even criminals get cold. They’ll return to their usual transgressions once the weather warms.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Tt. Weak,” muttered Damian.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Not everyone receives extreme weather training under threat of dismemberment, demon brat. We should take the opportunity to enjoy the break.”

“Tim, your version of a “break” involves paperwork,” chided Dick.

“It’s not my fault the rest of you people don’t have lives. I’m a remarkably busy person. And what is this, the-criticize-Tim-hour?”

“Oh, only an hour?” smirked Damian. “I thought it was a continuous event, one could choose to participate in whenever the mood struck. I will have to file all my complaints immediately.”

Tim pouted. “Marinette,” he whined. “Can’t you control him?”

She shrugged, “What do you expect me to do? I’m his girlfriend, not his minder. Besides, they criticize because they care.” She laughed when all three boys snarled their noses at the prospect of feelings.

“Marinette, angel, please; never say that again. I criticize because I am right, and they should know it. Not because of any high-minded ideals such as genuine affection.”

“Okay, okay, enough,” said Dick. “If we have a bit of a break, we should do something! Together, as a family. I think Cass and Steph come back in two days.”

“Grayson, just because your girlfriend is off-world visiting family and you have nothing to do does not mean it holds true for the rest of us.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Tim, “Except not quite, because I don’t have a girlfriend, but I just said I’m busy. R&D is rolling out a new prototype next week, and I have two board meetings scheduled and-”

“Not to mention,” Marinette cut Tim off. He could talk about his schedule forever because he just had that many events. “I can’t move around, what would we even do? Play games?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “The list of games officially banned in our family includes, but is not limited to; Monopoly, Uno, Checkers, Risk, Risk: Legacy, Twister, Jenga, Clue, Guess Who, Poker, Chess, and Go Fish.”

“Oh…” muttered Marinette.

“And that doesn’t even include videogames.”

“After the Wii Bowling incident of 2013, the media room wall was never the same,” Dick said, shaking his head in despair.

“I actually apologized for that, okay?” exclaimed Damian. “Why do you always have to bring it up?”

Marinette fully intended to ask about the incident later. “Okay, so games are out.”

“Ooh,” Dick’s eyes lit up, “How about we call a Family T.V. Event?”

Tim groaned, “The last time we did that we blew up the shed, and got the police called.”

“Well, we won’t watch a crime show.” Dick turned to Marinette. “Jason picked; we watched Breaking Bad.”

“I can see how that would spiral out of control.”

“The time before that, we set fire to the media room and started a familial feud,” Damian pointed out. “Game of Thrones,” he added when Marinette looked to him for clarification.

“Even worse.”

“Okay, fine, so we don’t have the best track record picking shows. But I swear I have a good one this time.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

Tim snorted. “What? Like the kid’s show?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Really Grayson, a cartoon? I know you are developmentally stuck at five, but not all of us are.”

“I’ve never watched it, but I’ve heard good things about it,” said Marinette. She knew there was a French translation of the show, but she preferred to watch media in its original language. Before moving to America, before dating Damian, her English had not been strong enough to confidently watch a show and understand all of it.

“Perfect!” exclaimed Dick. “I know you three and Cass haven’t seen it, and neither has Bruce or Alfred. I would bet Jason’s seen some of it, but I’ll have to check. Barbara and I have, but that’s fine, she loves the show. We’ll have to see about Steph too, but I’m sure she’ll enjoy it regardless. There are awesome characters, battles, suspense, comedy, and it’s not likely going to inspire us to blow up the shed or tear each other to pieces!”

“I have in no way agreed to this Grayson. Drake back me up.”

Tim paused for a moment, stuck between his need to disagree with Damian and the need to get out of Dick’s crazy plan. Unfortunately for Damian, the former won out. “Actually, you know what, a show could be fun. The episodes are what, thirty minutes? Shorter than Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones.”

Damian groaned while Dick responded happily, ignoring his brother’s distress, “Around twenty minutes actually. We could have the whole show finished in about a week or so.”

Damian turned to her, eyes wide and hopeful. “Marinette, please tell me you are on my side?”

She patted her boyfriend’s arm, “Sorry, mon amour, I’m stuck either way. Might as well watch a show.”

Damian flopped against the couch with a pout. “Betrayed. I have been grievously betrayed by my own brothers and girlfriend. What is this world coming to?”

“Woo!” exclaimed Dick, a wide grin splitting his face. “This is going to be great.”

“This is going to be awful,” moaned Damian.

-0-0-

It took a bit of convincing on the part of Dick to get Bruce and Alfred to agree to the venture. Marinette, after learning the full details of the last two Family T.V. Events, was wholly unsurprised. She also did not know the full extent of what Dick did to get Jason to agree (apparently, he and Bruce were fighting, again, so this was expected.) although it probably involved a bribe. But by the week’s end, the entire family was together, all under strict orders (and puppy-dog eyes from Dick) to be on their best behavior.

Which, without a doubt, not a single one of them knew what that entailed.

The arguing started with seating placement, then about who controlled the remote, then over the distribution of snacks, drinks, blankets, and pillows. At one point Jason pulled a knife, which prompted Damian to pull his knife, suddenly Cass had two shurikens visible (where she even kept them while wearing a tank top and shorts, no one could say), and then everyone was yelling with sharp pointy objects in hand.

Once the argument was firmly under control, Alfred collected the weapons and placed them in a wicker basket, along with all the mobile devices, until the episodes for the night were finished. The only one allowed to have a phone was Barbara who was in charge of checking police scanners for any major trouble while the family took the evening off.

Marinette seated herself curled up against Damian on the edge of the couch. She set her foot propped up on an ottoman so it wouldn’t get jostled, and she could continue to ice it throughout the evening. Damian secured their own bowl of popcorn, so they didn’t have to share it with the others.

“Alright, here’s how we’re breaking this down,” announced Dick, who won the battle for the remote, and therefore the episode schedule. “The episodes are short, at least, much shorter than the last show we watched.” He directed a pointed look at Jason.

“I make no apologies.”

“We’ll watch half a season a day, ten episodes apiece. The closed captions will be on but try to keep the chatter to a minimum.” Marinette held back a laugh. Damian explained no one kept quiet during these nights. Watching the show wasn’t the point of these events; if that were the case then they would just watch it all on their own time. The point was the time spent together. This is why even Bruce, emotionally constipated and single-minded in his pursuits as he was, put away the suit for a few days to watch T.V. with the rest of his collected family. Talking was expected.

“We will, if you will,” called Stephanie.

“I take offense to that.”

“Aw just sit Dickie, let’s watch the show,” exclaimed Jason.

“Yes, Grayson you already wrapped us into this pointless venture; we might as well get it over with,” Damian grumbled. Marinette found his hand in the folds of their shared blanket and laced her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand, and, when he was sure no one else was looking gave her a small smile. Marinette smiled back, he pretended to be such a grouch, but deep down he was a giant softy at heart.

Dick frowned, saying “Fine, fine, you don’t have to be spoilsports about it.” And pointed the remote at the T.V. starting the first episode.

-0-0-

It didn’t take ten seconds before the commentary began.

“Four elements?” exclaimed Tim. “Are you serious? I could name at least a dozen off the top of my head. How are there only four nations? 0/10 completely unrealistic. Political infighting alone-”

“Ah, shut up, replacement.”

“Ruthless fire nation?” said Stephanie. “Methinks a little propaganda might be occurring here.”

“A hundred years!? What, has no one competent been born the entire time?”

Marinette shrugged. “The disadvantages of finite magic systems, Dami. It's learned indifference.”

“Honey, after a hundred years that’s not hoping, that’s naivety,” said Stephanie in response to Katara’s impassioned speech.

“She’s right!” exclaimed Dick.

“We know that, but she doesn’t.”

The show moved on to Katara and Sokka in a boat. Sokka held a spear above the water.

“Is he hunting that fish?” growled Damian.

“Ah yeah, I forgot you may hate the entirety of Sokka’s character,” said Dick with a grimace. “Whoops.”

“She’s not very good at the water moving, is she?” asked Marinette

“Waterbending,” Dick and Barbara said in unison.

Sokka chided Katara about her weird water magic. “Oh, he’s not going to be a dick for the whole show, is he?” asked Steph.

“He gets better.”

“They grew up here right?” asked Damian, as Katara and Sokka become caught in a rapid. “How did they not anticipate an event like this.”

“I knew I should have left you at home. Leave it to a girl to screw things up!”

“HEY!” shouted all the women in the room.

They watched as Katara’s fury built and broke the iceberg behind her.

“Good. Use anger, anger is alright,” Cass commented for the first time.

“Okay, you’ve gone from weird, to freakish.”

“This punk is just asking for a beating isn’t he,” growled Jason.

The beam of energy shot into the air after Katara and Sokka broke open the ice. “That’s not going to cause any trouble,” said Tim, rolling his eyes. “Nope, not suspicious or completely conspicuous at all.”

The scene switches to a metal ship.

“Finally! Uncle, do you realize what this means?”

“Oh, look, the bad guys,” deadpanned Tim. “I was right.”

Jason grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it into his mouth “What happened to his fucked-up fa-”

“YOU’LL FIND OUT!”

The scene switched back to Katara and Sokka. The figure is revealed to be a hyperactive little kid.

Damian frowned“Oh, I won’t like him either, will I Grayson?”

Dick tilted his head, “Eh.”

Then Appa is introduced.

“Father, could we-”

“No, Damian.”

They watched the children depart, and the scene moved back to the Fire Nation ship.

“Even if you're right, and the Avatar is alive, you won't find him. Your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all tried and failed.”

“Well considering the Airbender child has been in an iceberg, it’s not surprising they failed.”

“Because their honor didn't hinge on the Avatar's capture. Mine does. This coward's hundred years in hiding are over.”

“Is it just me or does this angry, emo prince remind anyone of demon spawn?”

“Todd, shut your mouth before I remove your tongue.”

Marinette leaned in close, “Maybe just a little like you.” Damian looked at her with a betrayed pout.

The scene switched and they watched Aang lie to Katara about the Avatar.

“The air child is guilty. Will cause problems later.”

“Narrative Cass, it’s narrative.”

Damian scoffed. “Miscommunication is plot convenience, and it’s a sloppy one at that.”

They watched Aang’s dream of how he ended up in the iceberg, him waking up to Katara and his introduction to the village.

“Well, no one has seen an Airbender in a hundred years. We thought they were extinct until my granddaughter and grandson found you.”

“Extinct?”

“He went into the ice and woke up to find the world different. Anyone getting serious Captain America vibes here?” said Jason, tone-deaf to the clear horror on Aang's face.

“Jason, he just found out his people potentially went extinct!” chided Marinette.

“It's not for stabbing! It's for air bending.”

“Please tell me the main character is not a pacifist,” begged Damian.

“Well, he is a monk,” said Barbara with a sorry look.

“I sense he's filled with much wisdom,” Katara says as Aang sticks his tongue to his staff and it freezes.

“I switch back and forth between liking this girl and not. One second she’s got gumption, and the next she’s all starry-eyed and naïve,” grumbled Steph.

“I wonder who that reminds me of,” Damian whispered into Marinette’s ear. She felt her cheeks heat up.

"I'm not naive," she shot back.

He raised a hand with two fingers close but not touching, "You're a little naive." Marinette huffed, but silently admitted to her boyfriend's point. She had a tendency to believe the best in people; she saw it as a strength and appreciated it in this Katara character, but it was so far from how Damian viewed the world, it honestly confused his siblings when they first started dating.

Damian confided in her that he found it inspiring. She had been through so much, understood the cruelties of others, and still could see the good in people.

The scene switched to the Fire Nation ship again, and Iroh explained the concept of firebending to an irate Prince Zuko.

“Finally, a display of actual competence,” exclaimed Damian.

“Enough! I've been drilling this sequence all day. Teach me the next set! I'm more than ready!”

“My tutors would have skewered me if I dared to act in such a manner,” he commented again, softer than the first time. More so that only Marinette could hear. Damian’s family was more than aware of his childhood and what it entailed; Marinette slowly learned with comments like this. She squeezed his hand again and received a small smile.

The scene shifted back to the village where Sokka’s failed “warrior lesson” occurred, and then-

“We don't have time for fun and games with the War going on!”

“What war? What are you talking about?”

“Where have you been, frozen in ice for a hundred years?” joked Dick.

They watched Aang offer to take Katara to the North Pole to find a water bending master. The two children go and play with the penguin creatures, but the tone shifted when an old Fire Nation ship appeared on the screen.

“Bad ship” muttered Cass.

“If you want to be a bender, you have to let go of fear.”

“There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t even know where to start,” said Tim.

They watch Aang and Katara enter the Fire Nation Ship and wander talking about the war.

“Aang, how long were you in that iceberg?”

“I don't know. A few days, maybe?”

“I think it was more like a hundred years!”

“Are you kidding me?” yelled Jason. “How are they just figuring this out now?”

On-screen Aang stepped on the line of wire, tripping the traps.

“Tt. Amateurs.”

"See, she told him it would be a bad idea!"

A flare rises through the air.

“That’s not going to cause any-”

“Oh, shut up Tim.”

The Fire Prince once again appeared on the screen.

“The last Airbender!”

“I was right,” he mumbled.

The screen faded to the credits, and Dick turned to the group.

“So? What do you think?”

“Slow.”

“Nobody has any sense.”

“Are any of the characters actually likable?”

He frowned. “Okay, okay, so the first episode isn’t the best. I swear it gets better. Back me up here Barb.”

Barbara nodded. “He’s right, it takes a few episodes to build the characters up and we see some genuine action. But by mid-season, I swear you’ll be hooked. And then we’ll get to season two and the best characters will arrive.”

“Hey,” Dick exclaimed, pointing a finger at her. “No spoilers.”

“I thought it was fun,” Marinette offered. “It’s very clearly a kid’s show, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” She wasn’t going to say each and every person in the room had childhood traumas, and a show full of lighthearted fun was probably just what they needed. She could think it, but she wouldn’t say it.

“Thank you, Marinette,” said Dick with a smile.

“I rather enjoyed the elderly tea drinker,” intoned Alfred. “He’s more than he appears to be.”

“Uncle Iroh? Yeah, he’s the best!” commented Barbara. "But everyone is great."

“Alright, episode one finished, nine more to go.”

“Let’s hope it’s more enjoyable than the last,” uttered Damian, a chorus of agreement followed his statement, but when the show started up everyone grew quiet again.

Marinette was sure whatever happened next, it was bound to be interesting.

Tag List (Although it is on ao3 too)

@m3owww @your-resident-chimken-nuggie @loveswifi @fusser90@animegirlweeb @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere

#damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #damimari #mlb crossover #ml x dc #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #moodboard #damientte #damianette #marinnette dupain cheng x damian wayne #mlb x dc #characters watch the show #maribat watching atla

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letsperaltiago · 3 years ago

Text

somewhere only we know

This is my entry for the B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange and it's for lovely Johanna aka. @amyscascadingtabs <3 I picked the prompt: "Jake and Amy going on a babymoon and enjoying some time together before everything changes for good."

It's very simple and just pure good, happy parents to be-vibes so yeah :) I initially wanted to add smut but didn't have the time to write it :(( If you feel like it's something you'd like, then feel free to lemme know! I can always add a chapter two heh. Anyways, enjoy!!

Rating: G

Words: 2.7k

Read here or on Ao3

“Jake, this is… amazing.”

This seems to be all Amy can come up with as the hotel room presents itself before her. Better or bigger words seem to be lacking from her otherwise excellent vocabulary but she blames it on the fact that she’s been carrying a tiny human for the past 35 weeks - not that she’s complaining. It’s been hard, both physically and mentally, and there are a few more weeks to go but by the end of it all, she’ll be holding her little baby boy.

She’s tired and every inch of her body swollen and/or sore, but more importantly she’s eager and excited. Jake is too, if not even more than her, and this has resulted in the current scene: their babymoon.

“You like it?”

The way Jake asks her, eyes shining with innocent expectation and voice laced with childish excitement has her imagining just how their little boy will turn out to be. She can’t hold back her smile. This man will walk to the end of the earth to make her happy, essentially already has during this pregnancy, and the babymoon is just as much for him as it is for her.

She turns on her heels to face him, showing him the bright smile that’s plastered on her makeup-free face which has gained some freckles during her pregnancy.

“You could’ve planned a trip to a dumpster and I would still love it.”

Hands cupping his scruffy cheeks she pulls him in for a short but tender kiss that even so many years later, after thousands of kisses, has his toes curl in excitement. She truly would’ve stayed anywhere as long as Jake was with her. Although she does appreciate the fact that she’s standing in a beautiful lakeview suite at the LakeHouse Inn.

“Should we reassess how much we refer to dumpsters and other gross locations when we declare our love for each other?”

She chuckles at his comment, lips resonating against the corner of his grin.

“Should we?” She slowly slides her hands to the back of her neck, entangling her fingers to keep her latched onto him even as she pulls away to flash him a pretend contemplative expression.

Eyebrows cocked in playfulness, they share an indicative look in silence, only for them to break it in unison. “Nahh.”

“Right? It’s what makes us us.” Jake pulls her in by the hips which are carrying their son.

Everything about Amy reminds him of their little miracle and makes him feel all tingly and excited. One look at her, one touch, and he forgets about the rest of the world and its crappiness. He has Amy and together with the tiny human in her belly, she is his entire universe.

“Exactly.”

She closes the gap between them (as much as she can with the full-blown balloon shape of her stomach).

“So,” she mumbles against his lips, “what are your plans for us?”

Sadly, the 3-hour drive from home didn’t do wonders for her heavily pregnant body and even though she won’t admit it out loud, she hopes her husband’s plans for tonight will demand the bare minimum of her. She feels his lips and body withdraw, prompting her eyes open however the mischievous smile that meets her has a dimmed anxious feeling creeping over her - he does remember she’s 35 weeks pregnant, right?

“I know that look, Peralta.” Her voice is distrustful, and after 7 years together she should know better than giving in to his teasing, but her suspicious air only fuels his fire and desire to mess with her.

“In honor of my incredible and always so organized wife, there’s a tightknit schedule waiting for us.”

Tightknit schedule? Amy would usually be beaming at these words but right then and there, swollen legs, hungry and feeling everything but hot and fit after the drive, she aches to fall back onto the bed and sleep for days. It’s huge, king-sized, with crispy white sheets and the fluffy pillows are definitely calling her name. Although, the fact that Jake has everything planned out for their last vacation together, just the two of them, does pull on some heartstrings. He loves her so much and she loves him so much too. So much that she (almost) doesn’t turn a hair when he proudly starts listing their schedule for the evening and following day.

“So right now it’s 4 PM which means unpacking-time. At 6 we have a dinner reservation at this cute little restaurant in a little town nearby so we’ll need to leave at approximately 5.45. At 8 there’s a showing of Die Hard at the local movie theater, which I thought we could attend?”

Okay, maybe her left eye flinches at this but very discreetly (or so she chooses to believe).

“Then tomorrow there’s breakfast at 7, which is perfect because we have canoeing on the lake at 8.30...”

She zones out after this. Hormones, tiredness, the fact that she can’t feel her feet- there are a thousand reasons but Amy can feel the most is tears prickling, threatening to spill. Not because she doesn’t appreciate her husband’s efforts and grand gestures, all for her, but because she can’t stand the thought of doing any of these sweet things he’s planned for them. She can’t cry though. He’s going to think something is actually wrong.

“Babe?”

However far gone she was, the sound of Jake’s voice pulls her back in and there’s a confusing mixture of mischief and pure adoration shining from these famous deep brown eyes. Why is he almost smiling when she’s having a tiny meltdown?

“Are you crying?”

“No?” she scoffs although she’s proven wrong upon touching her cheek where her fingers are met by a thin wet streak. “I’m just,” she clears her throat in hopes of avoiding a strained voice, “so overwhelmed by happiness and everything you’ve planned for us. It all sounds… great.”

Silence dawns upon them as Amy’s fake smile tries to convince him. On his part, Jake is biting his lip in an attempt to hold back a laugh, but his wife’s panicked look and teary eyes have him failing to last and after a couple of seconds he breaks the quietness.

“Honey, I’m messing with you,” he chuckles and quickly pulls her back in for a tight hug, as tight as the belly allows, pecking the top of her head. “I know you love a good schedule but the only plans I have for us are: staying in bed, ordering room service, and watching tv.”

“Oh, thank God.”

The moan of relief flies out of her before she can even consider how it must sound to Jake, a great deal of embarrassment hitting her upon realization. She just made it sound like she wouldn’t appreciate her husband’s effort to make this weekend of theirs the best.

“Jake, I’m so sorry! I didn’t-”

She pulls back to look him in the eyes, ready to offer a sincere apology for her blunt exclamation. She never gets to. Instead, she’s met with a huge grin and her husband looking everything but mad or hurt. Almost as if he knew. He knew how she’d react. He wanted her to react.

“You sly sneak! You knew you’d freak me out!”

Only her husband can trick her like this, and, on one hand, it’s very endearing... Jake Peralta is more than just a good cop; he’s excellent. Brilliant and bold, maybe even too much sometimes, although he usually gets away with it. Usually, she’s always on his heels and she hates to admit it, but her mommy brain and restless hormones are making it much harder, if not impossible, to keep up with his always upbeat pace.

“Of course I knew, babe.”

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t even find it within herself to be genuinely annoyed with him. He’s pulled her back into his arms and is looking at her with that mischievous smile that can both infuriate and enchant her. Tonight it’s a little bit of both although mostly the latter, she has to admit and the last bit of annoyance melts away the second he leans in, offering her a soft kiss that lets reminds her of the fact that he’s the best thing in the whole damn world.

“I love you,” she manages to mumble against his lips before he can pull too far back, her swollen fingers cradling his jaw to emphasize her words. It tampers with any kind of reasoning and her ability to remain miffed.

“I love you too...” her husband mumbles back against her lips.

Pulling away isn’t an option, he’s too addicted and he enjoys feeling the air coming from her nose when she chuckles. “How much?”

“At the very least enough to not make my heavily pregnant wife canoe around a lake.”

“Peanut and I appreciate that very much.”

Although after all these months there’s a comfort and familiarity in being able to rub her belly and know her son is in there, safe and sound, knowing he soon enough will be out here in the real world with them has butterflies fluttering in her chest. Jake’s hand joining hers in stroking her belly only causes the number of butterflies to multiply, explode all over again, and her hormones are making her question whether she wants to cry or laugh - or perhaps do both. After such a long wait, from the second they decided to start trying, there’s no blaming her impatience. There’s so much to expect and patience has never been her strongest asset. Only when it comes to Jake and their son. She’s impatient to see, hear and feel it all. The life and adventure she’s created with the man she loves the most seems scarily close yet torturously far away.

With no reason to leave in sight, Amy finds herself bundled up in a hotel bed sent from heaven, wearing nothing but panties and her favorite nursing bra. Jake is on an errand run to grab her the creme cheese-filled pierogis and Arroz con Leche their son and she are very much craving. Although she does prefer her abuela’s homemade version of the latter, even a pregnant Amy can come to terms with the fact that there are limits to Jake’s super husband-powers. He can and will get her almost anything as long as physically possible - or within a radius of 20 miles which Abuela Dolores at this given time for good reasons isn’t.

Amy had insisted on the hotel’s room service menu being more than fine, but her husband knows her all too well and could tell she wasn’t content with the ravioli and créme brulée she’d originally settled for. Before she could even begin to protest his offer to run out and get it for her, her husband had pulled on a pair of jogging pants and a hoodie, grabbed his keys, and left her behind with a peck to the top of her head and a promise to be back in not too long.

In all honesty, the ravioli and creme brulée would’ve been fine, and she would’ve preferred Jake to be here to cuddle her. Nonetheless, there’s no denying how loved and important Jake makes her feel. Especially when he suddenly walks in the door, multiple plastic bags hanging on his arms and car keys dangling from his mouth. The view is hilarious, to say the very least, and she wonders: how did she ever get so very lucky?

Perhaps she will never know the answer to this. Luckily when you’re cuddled up in a soft hotel bed eating pierogis, fries, grapes, and Arroz con Leche with the love of your life, it doesn’t really matter how you got there. Being too busy talking, eating, and making out, the documentary about the history of paper Amy’s been dying to watch is mostly just background noise.

“Can you believe we’re having a baby?”

Her husband’s mouth is filled with fries and before she can even think of answering his question, she has to reach over to wipe ketchup from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes… but also no. In a good way.”

It’s true. She always knew she wanted kids but wanting is one thing; actually outliving it still seems surreal to her, even as she runs her hands around the curve of the skin encapsulating their very own little human being. What makes it so much more surreal is the fact that Jake Peralta is the father. Jake Peralta, the guy who she 6 years ago could only pine for. Now she’s lying in bed with him, watching him smile at her with those soft, brown eyes and warm rosy lips that she not so secretly hopes their son will inherit. He swiftly wipes oil and salt off his fingers before reaching over to place his hands on top of her belly. Placing hers on top of his happens like a newfound reflex of hers. His hand is warm and feels like home.

“This is probably the last getaway we’ll have, yanno, just the two of us.”

His soft voice has her looking up from their joined hands on her belly to see him looking directly at her with glistening eyes, the blue light from the television casting a blue hue on the side of his head. He looks so handsome, pensive, so perfect and she can’t come to terms with the fact that he’s her’s and she his, and together they’ve created new life.

“Yeah. More likely than not.”

“How do you feel about that? Are you scared? You know- of giving birth and how life will be after that?”

A few beats of silence go by, only the dull sound of the tv filling the otherwise silent room. His hand never slips out of from beneath hers. Does this question maybe reflect some worries of his?

“Not scared, per se...”

She quickly makes sure that there’s no food in-between them before scooting in closer to him. Her hand slips off of his only to slide up his arm, all the way up to cup his face. There’s close to no room between them. Her thumb dances across his cheekbone.

“... Excited, maybe a bit anxious, but I know it’ll be alright and so very worth it in the end. And yeah, our life nd dynamic might have to change a bit but it’ll always be us. But I’m not scared,” This seems to put a damper on his running mind. “And you know why?”

“Hm?”

“Because I have the world’s best baby daddy.”

As hoped a wide smile lights up his face, pure unadulterated joy so obviously present in this little moment of theirs. Worries seem irrelevant and non-existing.

“Are you worried, babe?”

She sees his smile fade a bit but not enough to genuinely worry her. Just like everyone, he has his thoughts and worries. With care comes worries. He wants to do his best, she knows.

“Maybe a bit, you know? Like not genuinely worried like I would’ve been a few years ago, but just… averagely worried.”

“That’s okay,” she comforts, her thumb still tracing smooth lines on his cheek. “It’s normal. It just means you care and want to do good, which is all I can really ask of you.”

“I do care. A lot. So so much,” he chuckles shyly.

“Which is also why you’re going to be fine, I will be fine and everything will be fine.”

She doesn’t give him the time to agree nor protest but instead leans in to place a long, tender kiss on his lips, inviting him to join in on the moment. It’s just a simple kiss, soft, like the one they had a Shaw’s after agreeing to stop trying (which eventually lead to more trying, but that’s beside the point). With every breath, they take the kiss grows deeper, longer. It’s as if their bodies are aware of the fact that this will be the last time they get to do this without a child to get home to; without the responsibility of being a parent. All at once, it’s frightening but also, more than anything, exciting. Their lives might be on the verge of changing forever. Although lying there in bed together, feeling the soft touch of their spouse, it feels like they’ve never changed and never will. They’re always going to be Jake and Amy.

#B99 Summer 2021 Fic Exchange #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #jake x amy #peraltiago #fluff #brooklyn nine-nine #jake and amy #mac peralta #baby peraltiago #oneshot

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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Locker Room Talk- A Beelzebub Fanfic (BeelxGN MC)

(I’m not much of a whole-ass fic writer, so I don’t think this will be a regular occurrence, but I just had a scenario play out too perfectly not to give it an upgrade. I would hope this goes without saying, but harassment is not okay, I do not condone it, and if you are experiencing it you should look into what legal options you have available to report it. Please don’t try the Beel method. You’ll go to jail.)

Warnings: Sexual harassment, unwanted innuendo, implied possibility of sexual assault, vulgarity

"Locker Room Talk” isn't really Beel's thing. In all honesty, he’s never understood the appeal since saying gross stuff where only your friends can hear doesn’t make what you’re saying any better. Because he’s been playing sports for nearly all the time he's been in the Devildom, he’s been around his fair share of these kinds of conversations. Most of the time he just keeps to himself and tries to tune out whatever the other guys have to say. It gives him a bit of a reputation as the “innocent” one sure, but he just prefers not to play along with their pervy antics. If they wanted that, they could talk to Asmo for all he cared.

That’s not to say he didn’t like his teammates or anything. Most of them were pretty good people on the court and got their acts together off of it. And Beel really loved playing sports. He needed the physical outlet as a distraction from his hunger… If he had to put up with a little vulgarity from time to time, it seemed like a fair enough trade… Or. At least it was at first.

When MC came to the Devildom, they turned his whole world upside-down. Things between his brother had always been tense before and even Belphie had grown more distant with him after what happened to Lilith, but it felt like in only a couple of short months they were able to soothe everything over. His family has never been happier and neither has he… Plus, it helped that they were a good, and eager, cook.

His teammates sniffed out his crush for the little human fairly quickly. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly hiding it very well. The first time they ever came by one of their practices, a pouch of homemade cookies in hand, he could have kissed them on the spot. No one, not even Belphie, makes the time to go check on him during practice like that... He must have made his happiness pretty obvious because the human started making it a regular habit. At least two, sometimes three, times a week they would drop in with some kind of food for him. Store-bought, homemade, a small snack, or packed meal, it honestly didn’t matter to him. Anything that came from their hands felt three times more filling than it should have.

He’s a little embarrassed to admit that after a few weeks the anticipation would start to show in his performance… If they were on their way he could usually smell whatever they had packed heading his direction and he’d play extra aggressively just to get to a break faster. He'd mow everybody else over just to have an excuse to go meet them at the gate. He’s been more than a little reckless before and thinking back on it can make him wince, but he usually forgets all about those little mishaps as soon as he’s met by their smiling face.

“Hey, Beel! How is practice going?” They’d ask him. And no matter how he answers, all he’d think would be, “Never as good as right now…”

It was around the time that his teammates put it together that the teasing started. It was innocent enough at first. They’d pick on him for having a little crush on the exchange student but it was always lighthearted. Nothing worse than maybe the occasional,

“Oi Beel? Did you get yourself a housewife/husband? Good for you.” or “They’ll cook for you?? What a steal!” Nothing that bad. At least, nowhere near as bad as it would get.

As the weeks passed it seemed like his teammates were expecting something out of him... Like, was he supposed to make a move on them? Though Beel really did want to be with the MC, there were a lot of complications… His brothers being a big one. Most have made no secret that they’re also pretty fond of them too, Mammon especially, and it felt wrong to make another rift in the family right after it took so long to patch the first one… Of course, his teammates didn’t know that. And they didn’t care. All they wanted to do was amp up the pressure…

“Hey, Beel, did you see what your honey was wearing today? I think they’re sending signals. You should probably jump on that, you know?” When it first started, he couldn’t actually believe what he was hearing. Sure, their little jokes sounded like innuendo but they kept things just veiled enough that he could have been reading into it. He’d get uncomfortable, but brush it off easy enough. However, it only ever got worse from there.

“Yo Beel, you boning that human yet? What? No?? What the hell are you waiting for? We see you like them so just do it!” It would grate on his nerves...

“Beel, how’s your sweetheart been doing? Still not fucking, right? Bet they’re getting lonely…” He’d tell them to stop. At first politely, then more forcefully.

“Look, man, if you don’t start taking charge then they’re going to get antsy. Plenty of other guys are here looking to get their dicks wet… Just look at your brothers, am I right?” After a while, he started shouting. But his aggravation only seemed to fuel the fire.

“I bet someone will have them bent over and forgetting all about you by the end of the week.” Eventually, he went to the coach but he didn’t care. “It’s just ‘Locker Room Talk.’ Grow up,” is all he got in response. It didn’t feel like it was just that anymore, but he started to doubt himself anyway... Was he overreacting? Every bone in his body wanted to go on a rampage whenever they started to pester him but wasn’t it all just words? He could endure words, couldn’t he? Besides, RAD has a strict no-violence on school grounds policy on its athletes. Even if he did get a good slug in, then he’d been thrown out of future games for the rest of the season.

Their words were just words. Gross, awful words, but words nonetheless. Sure. Whatever. He could endure that… but only that.

On the day he nearly lost it completely, it was right after their last practice before a big game the next night. The whole team was amped to go, but Beel was trying to keep to himself. Get in, get out, and go back to the House where MC was probably waiting. He’s long since stopped sticking around for socializing with the others. He had just finished changing when one of his teammates cornered him by his locker, the slimiest grin already plastered on his face.

“Look, Beel… We’re going to do you a favor, alright? Since you’re taking so long with this… The guys and I have decided to invite your little human to an “after-game party” tomorrow. To celebrate our victory and all that. Bet they’re dying for some action since you’re not giving any. You’re free to come if you want. Though… they might not be paying much attention to you.” Beel could feel his eye twitch as he watched the scumbag’s snickering face. That face. That fucking face. He'd never seen or heard anything so revolting in his life and-

For a few seconds, all he could see was red.

When he came back to his senses, he already had the sleazebag pinned against the lockers by the windpipe, fingers gripping his neck so tightly that his nails drew blood. At some point, he must have slipped into his demon form because the vibrations of his wings behind him made a sound not unlike a warning growl. His expression must have been ferocious because in the guy's eyes he saw nothing but pure terror. He’d never felt this much rage and hatred together before. Surely, at this moment, he ought to look more like Satan or Lucifer on a rampage than he does himself.

“If you say one more thing about that human, I will kill you. Touch them once and I will eat you. Are we clear?" His hand clenches further, making him receive a gargled cough in response. At this point, he could have probably flicked his wrist and snapped his neck in two. "Then pass it on." He tossed the man back into the metal lockers and watched him sink to the floor, clawing at his own throat and gasping for air. Oh yeah, his sporting days for this semester are over. But if it keeps him away from this trash? He’ll take it.

Of course, he made sure that he doesn’t stick around much longer. He left the scumbag to sort himself out, grabbing his gym bag quickly. He barely remembered to hide his demon form again before walking out of there, his nerves are practically shot already. Thankfully, though, he didn’t make it three steps out the door before a familiar face stopped him in his tracks. MC, who must have been waiting patiently for him this entire time, is leaned next to the bleachers with a backpack in one hand and a deli sandwich in the other. The perfect smile they got when they saw him signaling their blissful ignorance of all that just went down before.

“Hey Beel! How was pr-Oomf!” His body colliding with theirs cuts off their question. Beel’s gym bag lies already forgotten in the dirt, ditched so his arms could embrace them fully. It’s just a hug, a tight hug, but there’s a certain desperation to it. Though he knew it was ridiculous, a part of him was terrified that his teammates may just come up and try to snatch them if he let go…. After some time to process, he felt their head settle against his chest. He worried that they can hear his raging heartbeat... Would they pick up on how pissed he was just a moment ago?

“Ah… Not that great then, huh…?” His arms tense, pressing them closer against the fabric of his shirt. Should he tell them what he's been putting up with…? Does he even have the stomach for it? Letting out a sigh through his nose, he simply grunted out, “No…”

“Well, what’s wrong then?” So many things… He just wanted to pick them up and fly them away from all this crap. He wanted to rip the tongues out from anyone who's said a bad word about them. He wanted to keep holding them in his arms, shielding them from anything and everything that could possibly take that perfect smile away… But they probably don’t know that, do they?

“Beel? Are you okay...?” He let a slow sigh draw out from his nose, resting his head atop theirs. All too soon, he'd have to let them go. But, for the moment, he could just hold them and wish this feeling would never end...

“Only if you are…”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #beelzebub #shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x mc #obey me beel #beel snapped y'all #always beware the nice ones

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sdvvillagers · 4 years ago

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Fic - Gus

Word Count: 4,475

Summary: Gus has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Notes: Thank you to @purpleandgreen13 (purpleandgreen on AO3) for coming up with this prompt, it was such a fun and inspiring one to work with! You’re the best! ^.^

From the moment Gus woke up, he should have known that today was going to be an awful day. Water dripped from the ceiling of his room, plopping onto his forehead and waking him with a start. The rainstorm forecasted for the day had begun, revealing a leak in the roof that Gus hadn’t known was there until the rain unceremoniously woke him from his slumber. After clambering out of bed in shock and confusion, Gus wiped the sleep from his eyes and looked upward as another drop of rain landed right in his eye.

“Son of a-,” Gus mumbled, giving himself a wide berth from the bed to avoid getting wet any further.

His sheets had already soaked up some of the moisture, but the last thing he needed was a soaking wet mattress. Gus rushed to the storage room to grab an empty bucket to collect as much rain water as he could until Robin could come by to fix his roof. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long or else he’d be back and forth all day dumping the bucket. It was expected to rain heavily all day long.

The next sign that Gus’ day would be terrible arrived only moments later when Gus stepped on a small puddle of water that had dripped onto the floor, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward. He slammed his back hard against the footboard of his bed, causing him to yelp out in pain. His already bad back was now throbbing in pain. Wincing, Gus rose from the floor and hobbled across the room to at least change out of his wet pajamas and into something warm and dry.

Upon opening his closet, Gus reached for a plain t-shirt and his favorite orange jacket. It wasn’t until the jacket was on and he reached down to zip it up that he noticed the huge rip in the sleeve of his jacket. It was likely Emily could mend it for him, but it was another rough blow to his already awful morning. Gus elected for one of his lesser preferred jackets instead.

Being awake far earlier than he was used to, Gus shuffled out of his room into the kitchen of the saloon. Usually he wouldn’t wake up until almost lunch time due to being up late every night for his business, but with the rain waking him up so early, he figured he would at least fix himself a meal. It wasn’t often he ate breakfast anyway, so treating himself to a complete breakfast and a glass of homemade orange juice seemed a decent enough consolation prize. Robin’s shop wouldn’t even open for another twenty minutes anyway.

Gus stepped into the walk-in refrigerator in the kitchen and began pulling the ingredients he needed to make his breakfast. Once he had everything in-hand, he turned to leave and heard a high-pitched squeak. For a moment, it sounded like a mouse. It was enough of a distraction for Gus to momentarily forget where he was or what he was doing and the armful of ingredients he was carrying fell to the floor as Gus accidentally dropped them. The squeak, it turned out, came from a squeaky floorboard he had stepped on and wasn’t a rodent at all. Gus almost wished it was, at least it would have justified his flustered response. Instead, all he was left with was no ingredients for breakfast and a huge mess to clean while his back was out of sorts.

It took over a half hour for Gus to completely clean up the spill, the cracked eggs seeped down into every crevice and cranny of the walk-in fridge. Not to mention, it was a very chilly ordeal to clean a mess inside of such a cold space. Gus had lost all track of time while he was cleaning the mess in the fridge and all thoughts of calling Robin to repair his roof had left his mind until the job was done. By the time he realized it, he glanced at the clock and saw that she’d been open for fifteen minutes already. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

“Hello there, you’ve reached the Bennetts!” Demetrius’ voice answered cheerfully when Gus finally picked up the phone to call.

“Hey Demetrius, I’m in a bit of a bind,” Gus began, getting right to his point. There was no time for pleasantries today. “The roof of the saloon is leaking. Right over my bed, actually. Any chance Robin can head out here and fix it? I’ve got a bucket under there right now until she can make it.”

“Oh no, I wish I could say she could but she’s actually out of the house right now,” Demetrius answered apologetically. “Her parents called her first thing this morning, her father is ill and she needed to head out to help her mother.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Gus replied sincerely. As unfortunate as his situation was, he really was sorry to hear that there were health issues in Robin’s family. It was a situation where Gus couldn’t in all conscience be mad at Robin for being unavailable despite his desperation.

Once he hung up with Demetrius, Gus heaved a long, heavy sigh. Someone in town had to be able to help him, there was no way he could put it off. There weren’t many other people in town Gus could think to ask, but he started at the top of the list and worked his way down. Sebastian seemed like a decent possibility given that his mother was the very woman Gus needed for the job, but Seb made it quite clear that he had nothing to do with her work at all. Shane was next on the list, he was actually quite the handyman, but the call went straight to voicemail. Gus had to assume he was working at Joja today and had his phone silenced. Alex at the very least was strong, but as Gus suspected he had no knowledge of how to fix a leaky roof. Gus was even desperate enough to call Lewis who had been the town’s handyman before he was mayor, but of course his old age made him too hesitant to help Gus out. Not that Gus could blame him, of course, but it was maddening how limited his options were. He’d have to call a company in Grampleton or even in the city which would end up costing him at least triple what Robin would charge.

One very expensive phone call later, Gus managed to get an appointment with a roofer from Grampleton for 4:00pm , right when the dinner rush would be starting. As anticipated, the flat fee was already more expensive, plus additional fees for travel and late notice. Until they arrived, Gus would have to keep shuffling buckets around to catch as much water as he could.

By the time the roofer was sorted, Gus realized that there wasn’t much time left until the saloon opened at noon for lunch. Having dropped a substantial amount of ingredients earlier in the morning, Gus knew a trip to Pierre’s was necessary. It wasn’t far to Pierre’s store but in this rainstorm, Gus knew he’d need every protection even for such a short walk. After another trip to his room for his raincoat, rain boots, and umbrella, Gus was ready to face the elements. With his back still aching, Gus crossed town square slowly and carefully towards Pierre’s shop. The last thing he needed was to try and rush to get out of the rain and fall once more. He chuckled to himself at the thought that Doctor Harvey would commend him for choosing safety first.

The trip to Pierre’s was just as frustrating as the rest of his morning had been. It took him quite some time just to get out of his wet rain gear and Pierre snapped at him for leaving a puddle by the entrance even though it wasn’t exactly something he could help in a rainstorm. Pierre’s selection wasn’t great either, he was out of stock on a few ingredients that Gus needed so Gus would have to tweak his menu slightly to accommodate. He knew he would get an earful that night when Shane couldn’t order pepper poppers. When Gus went to checkout, he realized he’d forgotten his money at home in his rush and had to practically beg Pierre to let him pay at a later time without having to go all the way back for his money. It wasn’t until he started to remind Pierre of his own ongoing tab at the saloon, within earshot of Caroline, that Pierre quickly shushed him and agreed that Gus could stop by the following day to pay for the groceries.

The short walk home was plagued with its own difficulties. Gus had three bags of groceries and with one hand holding his umbrella, the other had to carry three full shopping bags while trying to keep them dry under the umbrella. By the time he arrived back at the saloon, his hand was aching from carrying the weight of the groceries which had gotten slightly wet despite his best efforts. Even Gus himself had gotten wet, the jacket he’d put on that morning had a drenched collar and water had gotten into his rain boots and soaked his socks through. Another change of clothes for the day.

Lunch prep went fine enough other than a small slice of a finger while chopping onions. On any other day Gus would consider it a terrible misfortune but today, it was nothing compared to everything else that had happened so far. It wasn’t serious enough to warrant a visit to Doctor Harvey, thank goodness. Nothing a bandage couldn’t fix. It did make the rest of his lunch prep awkward and it certainly hurt, but the pain at least distracted him a bit from his aching back.

Because of the rain, the lunch “rush” wasn’t exactly a rush at all, which was fine with Gus on a day like today. Only a few people stopped by for lunch, mostly to-go orders. Ordinarily he’d feel bored with nothing to do or worried by a lack of paying customers, but he welcomed the chance to take a break after his busy morning. His back was still aching from his fall and his finger throbbed uncomfortably under its bandage. The worst he could say about the lunch crowd was that any time a customer entered the saloon, it meant drying the rain puddles left behind in their wake once they left. Of course there was also the constant back and forth from the bar to his room to switch out buckets, a task he had to do almost every thirty minutes.

At 3:30 he could hear the door of the saloon open while he was in his bedroom, switching out yet another bucket under the leaky roof. By now his back was on fire from the constant back and forth, lifting heavy buckets, and mopping up the puddles of water in his room and at the entrance of the saloon. When he heard the door open, he heaved a sigh of relief knowing that help was on the way. It was no doubt Emily arriving for her evening shift. Gus was hoping she could take on a bit of the work tonight to give him some reprieve. If he could manage to only get away with cooking for the night, he’d be happy. Yet when Gus reentered the saloon, he was surprised to find Haley standing near the doorway looking around for him.

“Oh, there you are!” Haley huffed, sounding incredibly impatient and irritated. “Honestly, we thought you were dead, you haven’t answered your phone all day.”

While Haley stood in the entrance, arms folded in annoyance, Gus rushed over to his phone to see what was the matter. He didn’t have a cell phone as he’d never really had a need for one so he relied on a landline at the bar for any of his phone calls. Gus groaned when he noticed he hadn’t properly set the handset back down on the charging dock and it had run out of battery.

“Geez, kid, I’m sorry,” Gus sighed, setting the phone back on the dock to start charging. Haley huffed impatiently in response.

“I had to head all the way over here in the pouring rain just to tell you that Emily can’t come in tonight, she’s sick,” Haley went on, arms still folded angrily. “First she’s got me running over here for her, then off to Pierre’s to pick up a few things, then over to the clinic for some medicine. Ugh, this is the worst day ever.”

Gus had to try very hard not to burst out laughing at this response, if Haley’d known the kind of day he was having, she certainly wouldn’t consider a few errands ‘the worst day ever’. Instead Gus swallowed the urge to rant and smiled kindly in return. Kind smiles were his specialty, after all.

“Sorry to hear Emily’s sick,” Gus remarked in concern. “Need me to send you with any hot soup? Ginger ale?”

“We got it covered,” Haley replied. “I’m just gonna stock up on cans of soup at Pierre’s, it’s fine.”

Gus cringed knowing that his employee was sick at home and would be having canned soup as her meal, it was something that he would go out of his way to stop if it were any other day. But between the roof repairs, working solo for the night, and the numerous aches and pains he was experiencing, he begrudgingly accepted that canned soup would have to do. Maybe on another day he would have to make it up to Emily some other way.

“Tell Emily I hope she feels better soon but that she shouldn’t worry,” Gus went on, his kind smile still plastered onto his face. “I can handle things here.”

Haley left with a brief wave leaving Gus to sigh heavily the moment she was gone. He didn’t entirely believe that he could handle things on his own, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Business still had to continue with or without help.

4:00 came and went with no sign of the roofers. Gus was getting anxious awaiting their arrival, hoping they wouldn’t cancel on him. The buckets were filling up quickly as the rain poured down and now he was emptying full, heavy buckets every twenty minutes. It didn’t help that by 4:00, customers were already starting to pile in. While the lunch rush was light from people wanting to avoid being out in the rain, it seemed there was the opposite sentiment at dinnertime. Maybe everyone was sick of being cooped up at home, maybe they didn’t feel like cooking, maybe they liked the ambience of dining in a cozy saloon during a rainstorm. Either way, business started to pick up quickly and Gus had to strategize every minute to make sure no time, energy, or effort was wasted. He’d find himself taking orders one minute, slicing vegetables another, running to the back to empty and replace a bucket, then back to refill a drink, then off to the burners to cook a meal, all while coping with a bandaged finger and injured back. It was chaos. He’d long since stopped trying to squeeze drying the floor into the mix, instead he setup his wet floor sign and hoped for the best.

Just before 6:30, Gus could hear a clang outside followed by the sound of loud thuds overhead. The roofers must have arrived and already set to work. The activity on the roof caused many of the patrons to stare up at the ceiling in annoyance, it certainly wasn’t the most pleasant sound and a lot of the louder thuds and clangs were drowning out the jukebox. Gus could already see on the faces of his patrons that they were irritated and for that matter, he was irritated as well. Of course the work had to be done, but it was hard to focus with so many distractions. He found himself getting side-tracked in the middle of what he was doing and as a result, the orders were coming out more slowly. This was only causing further irritation among the bar patrons. Thankfully everyone seemed to realize many of the disadvantages Gus was working with between a bandaged finger, no extra employee to help, and a loud series of bangs outside beyond his control so no one ever complained to him. Still, he could sense the overall tension in the room and it only added pressure to an already stressful day. Luckily when Gus broke the news to Shane that pepper poppers weren’t an option, Shane opened his mouth to whine but stopped upon seeing the look on Gus’ face. Though Gus was ordinarily relaxed and downright jolly, he was sure that today his bad day was reflected in his mood.

It was only a half hour or so later that the doors of the saloon opened and in walked two men Gus had never seen before, absolutely drenched. It must be the roofers. Their entrance alone brought a massive puddle at the doorstep of the saloon and as they walked across the room, they left a trail of rainwater in their wake. Gus would be lucky if no one slipped and fell and slapped him with a lawsuit.

“Well we did a temporary fix for now to stop the leaking, but we’ll have to come back when it’s dry to fix it properly,” one of the men explained. “Though truth be told, that roof’s definitely seen better days. How old is it?”

“32 years?” Gus answered uncertainly, screwing up his face in thought to try and recall how old the roof could be.

“I guessed as much,” the other man replied. “We can fix your roof, but your best bet will just be to replace it.”

Gus’ stomach clenched at this news. Of course. Of course on one of the worst days he’s had, he now had to face the prospect of replacing the roof of the saloon. Even at Robin’s rate it would still be a costly project. Gus shook his head wearily and looked up to the roofers, not even trying to attempt his usual smile any longer.

“Well thanks for patching it up for the time being,” Gus sighed. “How much do I owe ya?”

“We’ll mail you the bill in three to five business days,” the first man answered. A bill that would no doubt include the travel surcharge as well as a late notice surcharge all to do a very temporary patch job.

When the roofers left, Gus stared down at the massive puddle of water in the middle of the saloon and spaced out for a moment, disconnecting entirely from everything going on around him. The day started poorly enough, but it never let up. It was the kind of day that beats you down until you just want to call it quits and crawl back into bed to start fresh in the morning. Gus didn’t often have bad days and when he did, his general optimism was enough to make the best of it. Today, there was nothing at all to make the best of, no silver lining he could find and no positive twist he could spin. Today was horrible. It only got worse when he snapped out of his brief moment of calm to the smell of smoke. The arrival of the roofers had snatched Gus’ attention from the fish he was cooking on the stove and now the filet was smoking in the pan, most definitely burnt by this point. Gus rushed to turn the burner off and removed the fish from the heat in a panic. Just when he felt seconds away from a total breakdown, he could hear a soft, gentle voice to his right.

“Gus… are you okay?”

Doctor Harvey tilted his head with an expression of concern, clearly noticing Gus’ flustered state. As usual whenever Gus was going through personal problems or having a rough day, he attempted to suck it up and put on a warm, welcoming face for his patrons. Many of them came to the saloon for an escape from their own problems, they certainly didn’t need to contend with his. But the moment Gus even tried to plaster a smile onto his face, he could feel his shoulders shaking as a swell of emotion took over. He was moments away from bursting into tears.

“I…” Gus began in a shaky voice, still grasping at the chance that he could play it off but ultimately failing. “No… no, I’m not.”

Harvey very suddenly looked on high alert and his friendly concern became far more serious.

“Are you in need of immediate medical attention?” Harvey asked suddenly, already rising from his barstool. As awful as his day had been, Gus couldn’t help but chuckle at Harvey’s reaction. He couldn’t explain why, but it was amusing how quickly Harvey was ready to jump into action if needed.

“No, no, nothing like that, Doctor H,” Gus replied, shaking his head. “Just a bad day. I won’t bend your ear, I’ll… I’ll handle it. Sorry for burning your fish, I’ll get started on another one right away.”

Before Gus could even turn around, however, he noticed Harvey shake his head vigorously and pull out the barstool next to him. Though Harvey was often quiet and reserved, preferring to keep to himself whenever he was at the saloon, in this moment he smiled a kind and welcoming smile as he patted the seat next to him.

“That won’t be necessary,” Harvey replied. “I can’t in good conscience contribute to your hectic night tonight. If you’d like to join me and talk about it you’re more than welcome to or you can take a seat behind the bar to unwind for a bit. Either way, you need a break. Doctor’s orders.”

It was strange how quickly all eyes in the saloon were on Gus the moment he stepped away from the bar, walked around the counter, and took a seat on the barstool beside Harvey. Everyone had only ever seen him behind the bar taking orders, filling drinks, or preparing food. Gus couldn’t recall a time he sat on the customer’s side of the bar during business hours and clearly no one else could either. A collective silence filled the room and no one even tried to hide their stares. Once Gus was seated next to Harvey, it was surprisingly Shane who spoke up first.

“You doin’ alright there, Gus?” Shane asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Just need a breather,” Gus replied as calmly as he was capable of. Clearly it wasn’t that calmly, though, because now all the patrons in the saloon looked just as concerned as Harvey had moments earlier.

“Is everything okay?” Marnie asked from the back of the saloon.

“Gus, what’s wrong?” Leah asked, dropping the sketch she was working on to step closer to the bar.

“Lookin’ a little pale there, Gussy, you’re scarin’ me,” Pam remarked, worry lining her face as she stared at Gus.

It seemed all of the attention in the saloon was on Gus at the moment and he wasn’t sure whether that was making this whole ordeal better or worse than it had been. Gus wasn’t used to the spotlight on him, he was used to being the one shining the spotlight on others, encouraging them to open up and talk about whatever they needed to talk about. Whether it was gushing over good news, venting over a rough day, or asking for advice from a friend, Gus was always there to support his patrons. It was odd to have the tables flipped and be the one in need of support.

“Nothin’, nothin’, it’s just… it’s just a rough day,” Gus tried to explain, but no one was buying it.

“Take a load off, Gus,” Marnie offered, pulling her chair out to give Gus a more comfortable seat than a barstool.

“I’ll grab some ice water, you should stay hydrated,” Harvey remarked, already heading to the back of the bar to prepare a glass.

“Want something to eat?” Pierre offered, bringing his plate of fried calamari over. “I’ve only had a few, you can take the rest.”

Leah hadn’t said another word, she had already started drying the large puddle in the middle of the saloon with towels she had found behind the bar. Within minutes, Gus was seated in one chair with his feet propped up on another, ice water and food on the table next to him, in the middle of a newly dried saloon. His patrons surrounded him, close enough to show their support but not so close that it was suffocating, and all looked at him expectantly.

“What else do you need?” Pam asked, rolling up her sleeves as though prepared to get to work on something, she just didn’t know what.

“I’d like to take a look at that bandaged finger,” Harvey pointed out, glancing at Gus’ injured hand.

“Who were those men that showed up outta nowhere?” Shane asked, glancing towards the door. “Did they say or do anything to you? I swear to Yoba if they did, I’ll…” Shane trailed off when he caught sight of a disapproving look from Marnie, but Gus caught Shane’s hands ball up aggressively into fists.

“I’m fine, really, I already feel so much better just to have all of your support,” Gus answered honestly. “Those were just roofers here to look at a leak in the roof, it’s fine. Really. It was just one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong but putting it all into perspective, it’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things.”

It was true, Gus was already feeling better just in the few short minutes that had passed. Moments earlier he had been on the verge of a breakdown but it was incredible how quickly that changed just from receiving the love and support of his community. It was always Gus who was the one providing support, providing help, providing a shoulder to cry on. He’d never needed the same in return until now but seeing how his patrons responded in his moment of need was overwhelming. It warmed his heart to know that if he ever truly needed anyone, they would all be there for him, ready to help and support him. They proved it tonight. Today may have been one of the worst days Gus had had in quite some time, but tonight somehow proved in an odd and unexpected way to be one of the best.

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv gus #gus #harvey #haley #shane #pam #marnie #pierre #leah #sdv villagers #my fic

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harryspet · 5 years ago

Note

dark peter parker x innocent naive reader (or ofc it doesn’t matter) non-con fic?

CAMP KISSLESS | peter parker

[WARNINGS] dark peter parker x reader (Y/N), virgin reader, noncon sex, outdoor/car sex (public?), peter isn’t very friendly neighborhood spidery in this

A/N: I’ve wanted to do a camp au for a little while so that’s why I chose this setting! This ended up being way longer than I thought it would be. Read at your own risk.

In which your the new camp counselor and you’re excited to start your job but Peter has other plans for your summer.

word count: 2.7k

It was gonna be a great summer.

It wasn’t your first summer at Camp. No, your parents drove you to upstate New York every summer since you were eight and you stayed at Camp Moonfall for three weeks out of the summer. You always made the best memories there but, now that you were older, you were saving up for college next semester. Now that you were eighteen, you felt responsible enough to get a job and of course, Peter put in a good word for you.

You remembered the summer before, all the counselors had let you join them around the fire since you were older. That’s when the game of never have I ever happened and that’s when you changed the way you looked at Peter. You always thought he was cute but with him smiling around all his friends, the firelight illuminating his skin, you developed a small crush. He was a year older than you and you remembered saying how you were going to miss him during your Senior Year.

He smiled at you, of course, and your heart fluttered.

It was in that game that everyone learned your secret about how you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet. They looked at you, shocked, and you would’ve preferred if they had just teased you rather than pitied you. You didn’t care that you hadn’t had your first kiss because you were waiting for magic. You wanted to settle for nothing less.

“So who’s first on your list?” Peter had asked you and you raised an eyebrow. He turned his marshmallow over the fire, letting it brown, “Your kiss list? Who’s your dream first kiss?”

“Thor, I think,” You joke to Peter and he only rolled his eyes.

“Haha, Y/N,” He spoke sarcastically, “But I’m serious, who’s number one?” For a moment, looking in his eyes, you could’ve sworn he wanted you to say him.

“I don’t have one,” You slouched back in your chair, “Whoever it is, I want them to be the one I marry.”

All of their eyes turned to you, even Peter as if you had said something offensive, “What?” you asked.

“You should save it for as long as you can, Y/N?” MJ said across from you, easing the tension, “High school boys are Satan's spawn. And I hear college boys aren’t far off.”

For the first day of camp, your outfit consisted of a tie-dyed t-shirt and a pair of running shorts. You had dreamed of carrying the clipboard you now possessed. Along with the wooden whistle around your neck, you felt complete.

MJ pointed at a gray minivan parked in a long line of cars where parents were unpacking their kids, “Y/N, can you check them in?” You immediately nodded

She remembered her training, all eight hours of it, and took a deep breath as she approached the family. The Dad was lugging things out of the trunk and the mom was rustling around with her triplets.

“Good morning, campers! I’m Y/N” You greeted them with a wide smile, hands tight around your clipboard. The kids didn’t seem to care much about you but you could get used to that, not every child was gonna fall in love with you, “Hope you all are excited for the best three weeks of your year. Can I get the last name?”

“We’re the Nelson’s,” The woman muttered, clearly not excited to hear your chipper voice this early in the morning. She pointed to each child and named them off.

You looked down the long list of names and easily found the three Nelson’s. You took a look at each boy, knowing you’d have to remember all of them, “There, found ya! Are these all of their things?”

The father nodded, three suitcases and several pool noodles on the ground, “You got a bellhop, Betty?” He spoke, clearly not bothered to know your name.

You looked down, still trying to smile wide as you crossed off the names, “Uhm, if you carry your things over there, someone will be there to carry their things to their cabin. Someone will also be there to take the boys down by the lake and they can join in the welcome festivities. You guys can say goodbye there and that’s when your vacation begins, Mom and Dad.”

You expected a smile or a nod of approval but you got cold stares, “We want to make sure they get settled in and see where they will be living. You can’t expect us to say goodbye now.”

Your smile fell a little bit but you kept your composure, “Well, here at Camp Moonfall, we want to keep the goodbyes short. When you took the tour, you were able to see the campsite. It’s very safe. We just find it’s easier for kids to adjust without the big, emotional goodbyes. It helps the homesickness when you start the fun right away,” You thought your smile would somehow lift their spirits but it only crushed yours.

“Could you stop smiling like an idiot? You’re an adult, aren’t you? They must be hiring the mentally incompetent here, Diane,” The father said to the mother.

Your heart sank and your lips parted to say something but the words didn’t leave, “I’m going to that cabin, sweetheart. Do you know what it’s like to give birth to triplets? I spent nine months with these kids and you aren’t gonna rip them away from me. I was in labor for twenty hours!”

“I-I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just telling you the camp policy. We just find that it works best-”

The dad interrupted, mimicking your voice, “We just find that it works best. God, Diane, I told you this was a bad idea.”

“My mother said this would be a good experience for them!” The Mom yelled back at the husband, she held her boys closer to her, “The boys are not staying here. It seems like there’s something in the water here anyways …” The woman scowled at you.

“I-I can g-get my supervisor-”

“And now she’s stuttering,” The father rolled his eyes, starting to grab their things and put them back in trouble, “Get in the car boys.”

How could your first time at this have gone so wrong? You clutched the clipboard to your chest, tears stinging your eyes.

A second later you felt a hand on your shoulder, “What’s going on, Y/N?” He looked at the family then back at you.

You just shook your head. He could tell you were about to start bawling, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Go back to your Cabin and collect yourself,” You nodded and instantly walked away.

You heard Peter talking to the family, hoping to solve the issue so that the boys didn’t miss out on camp because of their crazy parents.

“I did it. I saved the triplets,” Peter entered the girl counselor’s cabin, a soft grin on his face. He saw where you were laying on your twin bed and sat down on the edge, “I might regret it later because the funny looking one with the mo-hawk looks like a biter.”

You didn’t laugh, just pressed your face further into the pillow. Peter’s hand rested on the small of your back. You felt him start to rub circles there and that level intimacy enticed you as much as it scared you.

“I suck,” You spoke but it came out muffled.

“You don’t suck,” Peter insisted, “They sucked, hard,” That made you laugh. You turned your body to look at him and his hand moved to your waist, “You’re gonna have a good rest of the day. You’re gonna go swimming, eat hotdogs, and play way too many rounds of hide and seek. It’s gonna be awesome and you’re gonna have to perk up if you want to steal my title as everyone’s favorite counselor.”

You snorted, “Really? I recall Ned being everyone’s favorite last year.”

Peter faked a frown, “The man can make a mean s’ more.”

Absentmindedly, your hand touched his and you moved it away quickly. Too quickly, “You’re right,” you coughed awkwardly, “Today will be good.”

Something clicked, you could see it in his eyes that something had shifted.

“Do you want to come on a drive with me tonight, after everyone’s in bed. I have a view I want to show you.”

“Isn’t that not allowed?”

“I’m head counselor, Y/N. Plus, I’m Spiderman. Who’s gonna fire me?”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, but we’re back before midnight.”

For such a techy guy, Peter’s car was more run down than you expected, “What? She’s a passion project,” He said, touching the dash as if he believed the car was actually a person.

Peter was right, you had a great day. The kids loved you and you even had one of Ned’s famous s' mores. You had a feeling the night might even get a little better. The way Peter was looking at you was how you’d always wanted to be looked at by someone.

The car turned on onto a dirt road and it seemed you were on it for ten minutes before suddenly a valley opened up before you. Peter parked the car so the trunk was facing an amazing view. You got out of the rusty truck with your flashlight shining for extra light. You really didn’t need it because the moon was full and the stars were shining so bright.

They illuminated the valley and the beautiful mountain range in front of you, “Wow,” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and Peter looked at you as if you were the cutest thing in the world.

“Just wait,” Peter opened up the back of the pick-up trunk and there laid a bunch of blankets and pillows. He kicked off his shoes, climbing in and setting the lantern down. He patted the spot beside him, “You can see the stars better if you lay down.”

You would’ve thought this idea was the most romantic thing in the world if you didn’t get so terrified at that moment. This was like … a date. At least, to her, these weren’t things normal friends did. Not when they held your waist and looked at you like that.

You played with your fingernails, “Uhm..” Your voice trailed off.

Peter had already laid down, expecting you to join him. He sat up on his elbows, “Y/N?”

You could do this.

You climbed up into the truck, crawling beside him but leaving a few feet in between you. You let the small lantern keep you separated, “D-Did you only bring me here because of what happened earlier, Peter?”

You looked up at the stars and it was breathtaking.

“No,” Peter laughed nervously. “I just … It just made me realize something.”

“Realize what?”

You turned your head and realized he was already looking at you, “That I wanted to get to know you. You were still nice to those people even after they were so rude to you. It made me …” His voice trailed off and his eyes shut as if he didn’t want to admit what was next, “It made me want to protect you.”

Was this it? The magic you always wanted.

“You don’t … y-you, don’t have to protect me, Peter.”

He laid his hand out and you surprise yourself when you pressed your hands to his, “But I want to,” He said.

“I don’t know how to do things like this,” You admitted.

“It’s okay, I can show you,” Peter said quickly, “Not that I’m super experienced either. But, as you can see, I’m pretty good at choosing romantic locations.”

You blushed and he interlaced your fingers.

You laid there for a while, pointing out constellations and making jokes about the new ones you made up.

“There, I found it!” Peter pointed up but there were so many stars that you couldn’t tell which one he was looking at.

“What is it?”

“It’s you, can’t you see it?” You shook your head, leaning closer to him so you could try to see from his perspective. As you moved closer, Peter turned his head towards you, “Take my word for it, it’s as beautiful as you look right now.”

You looked at him too and you stared until Peter leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. Magic. This was magic. You weren’t sure how to move your lips but you just pressed yourself further into him.

As you pulled away to catch your breath, you smiled, “Was that good?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah,” and he pressed his lips against yours again, his hand on your waist, “I’ve wanted to do that since last summer.”

You pulled away, “You’ve liked me for that long?”

He tried to kiss you again, pulling your body into his, “Of course, you’re so beautiful … and innocent.” And naive, you thought. You didn’t want him to think of you as innocent. You didn’t want that to be the reason he liked you.

You pressed a hand to his chest, trying to create distance, “Peter, maybe we should go back now. What if someone notices we’re gone?” He held you tighter and your heart raced, “Peter, I-I think we’re moving too fast.”

“This is what people who like each other do, Y/N?” He buried his head into your neck and began to kiss the skin there, “You don’t like me?” His breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine.

“P-Please, please, Peter,” You begged, struggling against him. He soon was on top of you and, as you tried to escape his grasps, he pinned your arms above your head. You screamed for help and Peter only frowned.

“No one’s gonna hear you,” He sounded annoyed. Who was this boy above you? Was he always a wolf in sheep’s skin? All these years?

“Peter, you saved me today,” You tried to reason with him, “Don’t do this.”

He held your legs down as he ripped off your shorts with ease, “White panties? I should’ve known,” This was what he wanted. To steal your innocence and to hold that title forever. He spread your legs with his own.

His eyes hovered above your own, his eyes staring right into, “What do you think people will believe? This story or that an innocent little girl like you wanted to lose her virginity with the boy she’s always had a crush on. Who do you think they’ll believe, you or me?”

You cried out but he shushed you by forcing his lips on you. You bit his lip and he pulled away, fuming and his grip on your wrist tightened, “We’re gonna have fun these three weeks,” He pulled off your panties next, stuffing them into your mouth to muffle your screams, “I’ll be gentle if you stop struggling, Y/N. I know it’s your first time.”

He positioned himself between your legs, pulling down his own shorts before feeling your sex with his fingers. He tested your reaction, watched you flinch as he stimulated that foreign part of your body, “I bet you haven’t even masturbated,” Peter growled, “Jesus.” He could probably finish just with the idea of you being so tight.

He positioned himself at your entrance and you felt just how hard he was. You closed your eyes tight but they shot open as he slowly entered you. You struggled but that only made it worse. You were still, the pain ripping through your lower region. Tears were spilling out of your eyes.

He didn’t need to hold you down anymore, his body was pressed against yours now and you felt too helpless to fight it anymore, “You’re gonna be mine, Y/N,” Peter whispered in your ear, tasting your tears with his tongue, “Only mine.”

As he rubbed your sensitive area and moved in and out, you hated that you were getting used to it. You hated that it was starting to feel pleasure. Peter noticed that you were getting wet and that only made him start to thrust his hips faster.

Something began building in your core and you thought you might explode. Your body convulses and your breathing becomes even more rapid. You tightened around Peter’s member, milking his climax out of him as you did the same but against your will. Peter slammed his hand down beside your head, groaning loudly as he finished inside of you.

You were his for the rest of camp and you were not to tell anyone what happened.

“This is gonna be such a good summer, Y/N.”

Feel free to request some drabbles! If you want more dark peter than check out my masterlist!

#peter parker x y/n #peter Parker au #dark Peter #dark!peter #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #fanfiction #dark fic #dark marvel #marvel smut #marvel #mcu smut #mcu #mcu fanfiction #harryspetrequests #camp au

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shootingcookielover · 4 years ago

Text

Summary: 5 times Techno traded with gold and the one time he didn't.

It's basically just a five + one fic. We got Techno in here, Philza, Ranboo, Niki, Tommy and a bit of Wilbur.

Egg in the end.

Implied character death.

Enjoy?

Tommy discovered it, because of course it was Tommy. The boy had had a thought - a rare occurrence already - and a correct thought at that - even rarer.

He'd accompanied Phil to the Nether exactly four times now, and everytime he'd seen the older exchange gold with the natives. Had seen how the piglins would chase after the shiny metal and seemingly without giving it a second thought exchange it for something.

Now, despite popular belief Tommy wasn't stupid; he knew a thing or two. For example, he knew that Technoblade, his oldest brother, was a piglin-hybrid.

He thought it odd that Wilbur hadn't come to the same conclusion as him yet, but blamed it on being smarter than the musician.

For just a few minutes before he executed his plan - or rather, experiment - he stood. He looked.

He watched Technoblade. The older was sitting on the couch - which was rare, as he usually preferred to be alone in his room - reading a book.

Tommy didn't know what book and he didn't care.

A grin played around his lips as he pulled out what he referred to as 'the Bait'. It was a gold ring he'd stolen from Philza when the man wasn't looking.

He stepped into the room and Technos eyes flickered up briefly; a suspicious look settling on his face for a moment.

"Eyyyy, big T!", Tommy exclaimed, to dissuade the older from thinking on the situation too much. He didn't want Techno to figure out what he was doing, after all, that might ruin the experiment. "How are you! How's the wife?"

Techno rolled his eyes before settling them on the book in his hands again. "I don't have a wife, Tommy."

The younger laughed, grip on the gold ring tightening. He was closer to his brother now, just a few steps away.

"Yeah, big man, just one of the many things I'm superior at than you! Having a wife! Because I definitely have wife!"

"M-hm. And when are we meeting this 'wife' of yours, exactly, Tommy?"

The blond bristled a bit. "Well, never with that attitude! She doesn't want to meet you anyway! And I don't want you to meet her! You'd probably bore her to death with your stupid obsession with ancient Greece!"

The older brother looked back up at Tommy. "I'll have you know---", his gaze settled on the ring Tommy was offering him.

Without any hesitation Techno grabbed it, calloused fingers holding it delicately. He inspected it closely, before he slipped it on his finger, grabbed the book he was still holding and handed it to Tommy.

"---the Greeks were a respectable civilization with a lot of fascinating mythology!", He resumed as if nothing happened.

For a moment there was silence between the two brothers.

Then Tommy broke out in hysterical laughter.

"Tommy I swear to God if you tell anyone about this, I will personally end you.", Techno promised.

Not at all deterred by the serious note in his brother's voice, Tommy jumped back from the couch and yelled out: "WILBUR! Wilbur guess what Techno did!"

"Oh no you don't!", Techno vaulted over the couch's armrest, but he was too late, Tommy was already sprinting down the hall, almost at the staircase.

"Tommy, get back here!"

"Wilbur! WILBUR YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!"

Tommy was quick on his feet and just fast enough that Techno couldn't catch up to him.

When he reached the upper floor Wilbur was already standing in the hallway, intrigued amusement playing on his face.

"Come in here, quick!", He yelled and pulled Tommy into his room, just before Techno could get the youngest.

As quick as he could Wilbur locked the door.

Techno threw himself against the wood - without as much strength as he would need to break it down. Phil had specifically warned them not to break anymore doors.

"Tommy, I swear if you tell Wilbur I will--"

The boys inside Wilburs room ignored the angry ranting and the fists hitting the door.

Wilbur was grinning as he leaned against the door to keep it closed with his weight. "What did you do?! I haven't seen Techno this upset since the book prank of 1876!"

"That was a week ago!", Techno remarked, though he went ignored.

"Okay, okay, okay", Tommy's face was basically a massive grin at this point. He showed Wilbur the book Techno had given him. "You see this?"

"A book? We already did that, Tommy."

"No, no, no, no! This book-- I mean! You know how piglins trade shit for gold?"

"Tommy!"

Wilburs eyes widened as he seemed to catch on.

"I gave Techno a ring and he traded me this! He didn't even look like he thought about it, he just did it!"

Techno put his hands against Wilburs door, palms against the wood.

He took a deep breath. This isn't worth the punishment that would follow breaking a door.

He stood there for a few seconds more, voices in the back of his mind chanting incoherent words and sentences he couldn't really make out yet.

You know what? Screw it, it's definitely worth it.

"TOMMY!"

He threw himself against the door, full-force this time.

The wood gave in against Technos muscular frame. Wilbur stumbled away from the door, falling to the floor.

Tommy was already at the window he and Wilbur climbed out of a lot.

"You get back here, you gremlin!", Techno yelled.

He stepped across Wilbur, but the younger brother grabbed his ankle.

The unexpected action led to Techno face-planting into the floor, just out of reach of Tommy.

"Let me go!", The piglin-hybrid exclaimed, kicking out towards Wilbur.

The musician grabbed ahold of Technos entire leg, while he yelled out to Tommy: "Run, I'll buy you some time!"

"I appreciate it!", The youngest yelled, already outside on the roof, sliding down the tiles.

"No, Tommy--!"

Techno kicked out again, aiming for Wilburs face, but the musician dodged.

"I won't let you get him, Techno!"

"Just let me go!"

Crunch!

Wilbur let go of Technos legs, hands instead going up to his face.

The piglin hybrid scrambled to his feet.

With the awkwardness of someone who hadn't had to climb out of a window before, he followed his brother outside.

"Tommy!", He yelled, but the boy had already disappeared into the nearby woods.

There was no way Techno would get him now, at least not until Phil returned.

An upset grumble built in the back of his throat as he climbed back into Wilbur's room.

His gaze landed on the musician, his hands now covered in blood.

"Hey, you, uh, okay? I didn't kick you too hard...", He shuffled in place awkwardly, "...right?"

Wilbur chuckled. "Nah, I think it's just broken."

"Just broken?!"

When Phil returned home, he heard both Technos and Wilburs voices from the living room. He didn't, however, hear Tommy's voice, which was deeply concerning.

The blond was loud, always.

He stepped into the living room to find Techno bandaging Wilburs nose.

"What's going on?", He questioned. He knew his boys played rough a lot, but so far it hadn't ever been bad enough to warrant actually concern. "And where's Tommy?"

"Eh, the gremlin child is probably just in the woods. He'll be back.", Techno replied while pulling the bandage a bit tighter.

Wilbur winced a bit at Technos movements. "Yeah, it's probably fine.", He agreed.

The last of Phil's worries were scattered when Tommy slammed open the front door and yelled: "Techno broke Wilburs door again!"

"Really, mate?"

Philza, despite living with Tommy, Wilbur and Techno for years, didn't find out about this particular quirk of Technos until much later.

Tommy and Wilbur hadn't yet gone off to the Dream Smp.

Phil and Techno were on Hypixel when he found out. The two of them were taking a break from the endless fighting on the server by relaxing in the flat Techno had rented there.

The piglin-hybrid was sprawled on the couch, clearly exhausted, when Phil noticed it.

He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes focussed on the younger man's hand.

"Mate, what's that ring you got there?", He questioned.

"Eh?", Techno lazily raised his head before glancing at his finger. "...which one?", He then asked, seeing as he had a rather big collection of rings decorating his hand.

"This one right here.", Phil replied and reached out, only lightly touching the one he meant.

He knew how possessive Techno was of his things; particularly the ones made of gold.

Techno examined the ring for a second before shrugging. "Tommy gave it to me, traded it for some book.", He finally replied, laying back on the couch.

"...that's my wedding ring, mate."

"HEH?!"

"Tommy gave you my wedding ring and you gave him a book?"

Techno pulled his hand against his chest and examined the ring closer. "Wha-- I didn't know it was your weddin' ring! I thought it was just some random jewelry, he'd picked up or somethin'!"

Short silence prevailed between the two.

"...you can have it back.", Techno finally said. Except, he was obviously not okay with giving it up, judging by the possessive gaze he leveled at the thing, or the way his fingers curled around the item in question.

"Nah, mate, it's alright you can keep it.", Phil couldn't help the smile pulling at his mouth. "What did you say about trading?"

Technos gaze took on a mortified quality immediately. "No, Phil, please--", but it was too late.

Phil had pulled a gold earring from his inventory and held it out to Techno. He had bought the thing specifically for the younger man anyway, the opportunity was perfect.

The piglin-hybrid's gaze became transfixed on the metal. A few grunts escaped him as he pulled it from Philza's grasp.

From his own inventory he produced emeralds that he thoughtlessly handed to the older man.

The gold nugget disappeared into his inventory.

Phil couldn't help but laugh as he also stashed away the emeralds.

An embarrassed blush spread across Technos cheeks. "We'll never speak of this again."

"Sure, mate.", Phil was still laughing.

Ranboo had been living with Techno for a few weeks now. Well, next to Techno, technically.

The point was, Ranboo had been hanging around the piglin-hybrid a lot lately and he had noticed something. Something he'd noted down in his memory book in the section he dedicated to 'Friends'.

Techno is fascinated by gold.

Whenever Ranboo pulled out anything remotely gold, the other would get transfixed by it.

One time, Ranboo had forgotten his crown at Techno's - he almost hadn't gotten it back.

So, with that in mind, Ranboo had crafted the piglin-hybrid a golden necklace. It wasn't the best piece of craftsmanship - Ranboo hadn't really made jewelry before. Not that he would have been able to remember if he had.

Still, the necklace looked good enough and Ranboo was actually kind of proud of it.

So with the gift in his inventory he made the short trip to Techno's cabin.

His hand trembled a bit as he knocked on the door. He told himself it was just the cold, but he knew it was the nerves coiled tightly in his stomach. He had given Techno gifts before, most notably the enchanted netherite axe he'd recently made, but somehow this felt... Different.

He pulled his hand away and took a step away from the door, anxiously swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet. His tail nervously thumped against the fence behind him a few times.

The door finally opened, revealing a somewhat dishevelled looking Technoblade.

"Ranboo?", The piglin-hybrid observed.

Ranboo startled. "Yes! I, uh, I made you something!", He exclaimed. His eyes traveled along Techno's tired frame, the bags beneath his eyes. "But- but I can come back later for you're-- if you're busy."

Techno already shook his head before Ranboo even finished his sentence. "You're fine. Come in. You want tea?"

The piglin-hybrid stepped into the house, back turned towards Ranboo.

It made the enderman hybrid feel warm, that Techno trusted him enough to invite him in, to share tea with him, to turn his back on Ranboo.

The enderman hybrid pulled the door close as he stepped in. "Sure!", He chirped.

Edward greeted him from his place by the fireplace and Ranboo replied with his own greeting.

"What kind do you want?", Techno asked from the kitchen while Ranboo sat down at the table. "I have... Black tea, chamomile and... I think this is green tea?", There was the faint sound of sniffing. "...yeah, I don't know what this is, actually."

"Oh, uh, chamomile is fine!" Ranboo answered, his nerves making him clench and unclench his hands periodically.

He was overtly aware of the gold necklace in his inventory. Despite the inventory not being a physical thing, like pants pockets or a bag, Ranboo could feel it weighing him down.

Not that he wasn't excited to present the other with his gift, it just... Made his anxiety act up.

After what felt like eternity Techno came back to the living room, carrying two steaming cups. He placed one in front of Ranboo, before he sat down with his own.

To Ranboo's surprise there was a straw placed in his cup. He couldn't help but stare at the thing.

Techno cleared his throat and Ranboo looked up at the piglin-hybrid.

Techno seemed to be... Embarrassed.

Ranboo hadn't known the Blade could be embarrassed.

"I uh. I thought since you're part enderman you might not want to drink directly out of the cup, because of the water allergy and stuff, so I uh. Added the straw."

If Ranboo could have blinked, he would have, but as it was he could only look between the cup and Techno. The warmth from before, that Techno's trust had ignited, flared to life with a vengeance.

Ranboo wrapped his hands around the cup and smiled at Techno. "Thank you! That's... Not many people think of that..."

"We hybrids gotta look out for each other.", Techno replied with a shrug and took a sip from his cup.

The smile remained on Ranboo's face as he stared down into his cup, almost transfixed by the straw.

So thoughtful.

He himself often forgot to take precautions when he drank water, leading to a lot of tiny burn scars decorating his mouth, similar to the tear trails on his cheeks.

"So, uh, you said somethin' about a gift?"

Ranboo looked up at Techno.

The words registered and Ranboo remembered. "Oh! Right!"

He quickly reached into his inventory and pulled out the necklace.

He held it out to Techno.

"I know it's not the best, but I did my best! I, uh, saw how much you liked gold and you already have so many rings, I figured you might like a necklace!"

Ranboo clamped his mouth shut to stop himself from rambling.

Techno didn't seem to even register half the words that had spilled from the enderman hybrids lips.

His eyes were fixed on the necklace. He carefully reached out and took it from Ranboo's hands.

Seemingly without thought he pulled an ender pearl from his inventory and pushed it into Ranboo's hands.

"Uh?", Ranboo again wished he could blink with bewilderment, but he couldn't. Instead his ears and tail flicked, while his eyes moved from the pearl to Techno, back to the pearl.

The piglin-hybrid put the necklace around his neck, still staring at the golden chain, apparently oblivious to Ranboo's confusion.

Eventually Techno looked up again and registered Ranboo's bewilderment.

"Ah! That. It's a piglin thing." Techno explained quickly with a flick of his wrist. He wanted to dismiss the topic and not make a big deal out of it; Ranboo could see the embarrassed blush dusting the others cheeks.

Being a hybrid himself he understood what Techno meant perfectly. He didn't question it further, instead opting to just put the enderpearl in his inventory. "Uh, thanks!", He finally said, wincing at his own words. "...I guess!"

Techno shrugged. "So, tea, right?"

"Are Phil and Ranboo not coming today?", Niki questioned as she set down the tray of muffins she'd brought.

Techno shook his head. "Nah, they're just late.", He explained.

"Oh." Niki glanced at the mysterious chair that had been empty for every meeting so far.

Who could it belong to?

She shook the thoughts off. It didn't matter. She sat down in her own chair before offering Techno a muffin.

The piglin-hybrid took it gladly.

"Your bakin' is really good.", Techno muttered through a mouthful of muffin.

Niki laughed. "Thanks, Techno."

"No, really, I love these."

She smiled as she leaned back. A bit of boredom weasled it's way into her mind and she began fiddling with her bracelet.

It was made of gold and shimmered delightfully in the sim light of the meeting room.

Techno, who had been enraptured by the muffin a second ago, was suddenly much more transfixed on the piece of jewelry. His chewing became much more calm and deliberate. His eyes followed the bracelets every move.

"...you good, Techno?", Niki questioned as she pulled the arm with bracelet closer to herself.

The piglin-hybrid slowly nodded and swallowed the bite of muffin. "...'m fine.", He replied, gaze still locked on the jewelry.

"....do you want this?", Niki eventually asked, since Techno's attention didn't once shift from the bracelet.

"Heh?", Techno looked up at Niki's eyes briefly, before he looked at the bracelet again. "No, no, it's yours, I wouldn't... Want it anyway."

Niki laughed lightly as she unclasped the bracelet. "It's fine, Techno, really. It's not important or anything, it's just a bracelet."

The piglin-hybrid took the piece of jewelry and handed Niki the half-eaten muffin he held in his other hand.

He put the bracelet on and when he met Niki's gaze an embarrassed blush spread across his cheeks.

"A piglin thing?", Niki questioned as she took a bite of the muffin.

Techno shrugged. "Yeah."

The necklace feels heavy around his neck, the ring like it's cutting into his finger. The bracelet burns against his wrist and the emeralds hanging from his ears seem to weigh much more than they should.

His fingers wrap around the handle of his axe; it was a familiar movement, something he'd done millions of times.

Not that he remembers any of those times.

All he has are the broken remnants of a life that he isn't part of anymore.

The distant sound of laughter sometimes echoes through his memories, but more often than not there are screams, distant, yet seeming so much more real than the happy moments he sometimes catches glimpses of.

The only thing that truly feels real, that he truly remembers, is the one thing he can't have anymore. Not really anyway.

The earrings feel so, so heavy. The necklace feels like it's burning a hole into his skin.

The bracelet feels too tight suddenly, the ring like it's desperately trying to brand his finger.

His grip around the axe's handle tightens.

He doesn't remember them, any of them.

Phil's hands pushed the weapon into his hand frantically. He didn't understand.

"Run!", He had been told and so he had run.

But he knows they need his help.

"Techno!", Ranboo had screamed, his voice devolving into incoherent enderman noises as it wrapped around his lanky frame.

If only he could get up. If only his limbs would move.

If only it wasn't so cold.

He knows he's the only one who can help.

"I thought-- I thought you were immune?"

Tommy laughed. It was his laugh, but it wasn't. It was the same, yet it was different. So, so different.

"Techno, big man, big T!", The teen replied, eyes glinting red. "Nobody is 'immune' to the egg! That'd be like being immune to the air!"

His steps are light and quick; different from back then, back when he wasn't... This.

It doesn't matter.

Because they need him.

"No!"

The vines had wrapped her up, covering her mouth, her limbs. Preventing her from making any move.

Tears trickled down her face, tears that slowly came to a halt.

He felt horror deep in his soul as he watched her eyes turn a deep, dark crimson.

#dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #oneshot #technoblade #niki nihachu #mcyt #philza minecraft #ranboo #tommyinnit #the egg #the sad part is i actually tried #implied character death #technoblade piglin traits

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