#and the half smile when he vouches for him in court | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pressureplus · 3 months ago

Note

Could I ask for the prompt of you being a former friend/lover of Sebastian's from the surface when he was still human, becoming an EXR-P and meeting him again for the first time? I think it could be either super wholesome or super angsty lmao,,

-⭕️

Oh, you know I just love angst, thank you for the prompt! May have run a bit wild with it, apologies for that!

Hiraeth

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Angst, Romance

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟ ◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

How many times had you run through these halls, desperately searching for a safe place to rest? The echo of water droplets hitting the ground from your soaked suit. You'd heard whispers, muffled between EXR-P’s like yourself. A few little tales of a shopkeeper all the way down here. A man by the name of Sebastian, some kind of experiment gone feral. A part of you was admittedly a little frightened by the idea of him, but from the moment you heard his voice over the intercom, you knew you had to find him. You knew only one man with a voice like that, that little chuckle that you'd heard a thousand times over. It played in your head on repeat and it hasn't stopped in years. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but you could dream, couldn't you?

The man you’d been in love with had been sentenced to death so many years ago now, the case details are blurry. You'd tried to be in court that day and you had. You vouched for his innocence, for his protection. He’d been with you that night. Honestly? It didn't seem to matter. They didn't care what you had to say under oath or not. Who cared if the love of your life was sentenced to death? Surely not the lawyers, the judges, the jury, or the onlookers... All of them would be able to carry on with their lives as though nothing had happened, but you? You wouldn't. You couldn't. You’d screamed that day when they took him in cuffs, when your pleas for his safety had been ignored. He didn't seem to resist, nor did he fight back. He’d only smiled at you. A little one that was a bit more solemn than the others you'd received. Much duller than the one you'd fallen in love with. Who were they to dull his light? Who were they to take him from you?

When he was killed, put down like some kind of animal, it was like the sun had fallen from the sky. For a while you'd wandered aimlessly, grieving the loss of your love, and no one had seemed to care. Those that reached out did so half-heartedly. The amount of reprimanding you got for grieving a man they claimed to be a murderer broke you down. It changed you. Something about watching the world around you turn their backs to your grief, rejecting the idea of his innocence even in death. It drove you nearly crazy. Now, after all this time, you're here. Here, in the Hadal Blacksight under Urbanshades care, you had a chance of seeing him. Maybe it wasn't a particularly good chance, but a chance nonetheless.

As you finally looked around the inside of his shop, out of breath from having crawled through an already open vent, you were greeted with items. A document on the counter, batteries, a radio and keycard. All sorts of spare items on shelves and an empty black doorway. There was no shopkeeper here, and it only left you confused. That was until you heard shifting in the backroom. Was he storing things? Replenishing his supply? Did it matter? Now was the time and god the way your heart raced in your chest left you almost shaking. Was it going to be him? You shouldn't get your hopes up, right? After a few more moments of silence, you gathered your courage to speak, stepping a little closer to the dark doorway.

“Hello?” You attempted to call out for him, or more so anyone in that back room. You were greeted with a softer, smoother voice.

“What are you doing here?” You freeze immediately, little tears in your eyes. The voice you were so attached to for so long, the one you'd missed, the one you'd fallen in love with. Of course his voice was a bit deeper than you'd last heard it, but oh so familiar.

“Sebastian? Is that really you? You're alive- tell me you're alive and that I've not finally lost my mind.”

“I'm alive. Barely.”

“Sebastian, I've missed you so much. I thought I'd lost you forever- I am so, so sorry that I couldn't do more. I-” You attempt to step closer towards the door, only to be met with aggression. A loud almost barking noise as his voice picks up in volume.

“Don't- Don't come any closer.”

“Its been nearly a decade since I've last seen you, come on-”

“You don't want to see me.”

“What? Sebastian, of course I want to see you.”

“No, no you don't. You don't want to see me now, its better if you think of me as dead. I'm warning you.”

“It can't be that bad-”

“Back up.” He huffs as you take another step forward, almost at the doorframe now.

“No, no I'm not backing up. I have waited to see you for years and no amount of being nervous is going to stop me.”

“Back. Up.” His voice drops even lower, more like a hiss than words as you finally get to the doorway.

“Sebastian, I'm not backing up. I-”

“I said BACK UP!” The voice you're greeted with hold power unlike anything you've heard from a human before. A snarl and a growl, echoing oddly in his throat as his face comes out of the darkness. A monster and not a man. Something entirely unrecognizable as your lover apart from his voice, something that looks closer to the anglers here than anything else. His glistening teeth bared as though he was going to snap and rip into you at any moment. His eyes filled with anger unrivaled.

“Wh…What are you?” Those words seemed to sink in deep, hitting him in all his most sensitive places. An attack directly on his heart. You watch the rage turn into hurt, melting into regret before he dipped back inside the dark room. A bit of shuffling heard.

“Are you happy now? You've seen enough. I didn't want it to come to this, okay? Please just…go away. I can't bear to look at you like this. Your expression is too much for me.”

“Wait- wait I'm sorry I just- you shocked me is all. Sebastian please-” You try to soften your approach as the shock and fear fade away.

“Don't say my name so sweetly, like you didn't just get scared of my face. And what about the rest of me? What will you think of what they made me? If my face scares you that much you won't want to see the rest.”

“Sebastian, please. I have loved you for years, since way before all of this. Even after you died I never stopped loving you. I was a little scared, yes, but its you, isn't it? It's still my Sebastian in that body. No matter what you look like now.” He hesitated for a moment. A long beat of silence, heartbeat rapid in your panic to not let him leave you again. All at once a massive clawed hand juts out of the darkness and pulls you in. You're tugged up into a set of arms, a third coming up under your thighs to function like a chain. The glow of his eyes on the darkness is unsettling for only a moment as he dips down to muzzle into your neck.

“Don't…Don't say things like that unless you mean them.”

“Sebastian.” You say it softly, arms wrapped around his neck.

“I still love you…its okay. All of you, even if its new and different. Its just gonna take a little getting used to. You can be patient for me, can't you?” He nods against your neck, holding you desperately. Enough for those claws to sink into your skin and draw blood, but neither of you seem to care. Here, even if its only for a moment, Sebastian has a piece of home again.

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libidomechanica · 2 months ago

Text

He plungd in place, embroiderd in Lightning in his tuning head

A limerick sequence

‘You were none you by a soundless cup. When I smile. My Lord, with a kiss, and suit? For Wintergreen Shalott. The moon. Is thy love to sight was they raised, but to call Chance!

As dew in aprille, þat fallyt on þe sprang elate! The Peers and Wesley, and two: she trees and summer loathsome. In my attic and into find Liberty?

And a whole sea and clings to you. That piano? Just in Air, she dead for the yill. Hairs less a slight us, for sometimes shou’d expressing, and body the spring.

Permit me, Julia’s breath of the poppy falls for Nisus’ injur’d Hair!—Ye may read, is leaving you are made more; which hath no break, and more will I, with his her breast!

’Er she leaves springtime, the same thoughtlessly, from him for the general constructed in feeling soundless main to wash away, and Nymph! Company of the Wits again!

And my life, climbing. By the prostrate Ace. Are very court to shame! I have you thumbed, thrust, jutted this Morning Omens their dressed around this great green, your mouth be heir.

This Nymph there wherein the yellow-leaved vine, and hush’d, confus’d, he stone bag man, garlic in the midnight Militia of the silver. Goddess, I do vow and kitsch.

If, dear self, in the children outside the stood, before are this bold Sir Plume repair, half-taught me to her Desires of fine boy. Oh hadst thou were none of the Cards.

When there touch that once Ulysses held the happy crowd the sages. Or caus’d Suspicion when still readers e’er would not be when I’ll be our tale, of Amminadib.

Above a girl, her pocket-book and quite of a mayden was never dauntless, flaming, the marge us? The top of the granted of mine. The marge us? Mt.

Being silk or taffeta, which fell their desire. Vouch for one small reade in the helmet flows, ’mang moors and where none, no lute, the rolling told me upon a stream.

Yet all their Charms, as I was not in the rest lurk’d in vain! Thy mother crown, but little question with all above me weary road, yet how to the Tartar, England!

Being sitteth silent sighes breast a frown of peopled hell in think of scream from History. I do not so great business, tremblings and Dukes, and wins oh shameful Chance!

As this I may desert sky? But Lilia please alike. Unto the same, his pompous Robe, and hear planet chiming clears today of those nineteen who fly arise!

Sometimes barters; the yellow-white. How cloth’d; how sunk beside his house, thou know then, lastly, let me sleep the arm’d with these Labyrinths his be their haram educate.

My soul is mine, and round mere can but that such a day of your name as if in doubting Wits are a’ my Nanie, O. I would make breathing of their skill. The other sea.

The men on the late rain, me of the face by hear two women, gallant fight, and He approach. Which long; and will soon shall pall that is thy beloved, and, one sweet stream.

I haue I called The Witch. And each high, and mortality arise like a buttercup until, afterwards for the Soul was strong the ghost nor smilde wherein I fry?

Come, commands that horror, that her Eyes half equal to show? Goddess! Your cool and going told him whom he sport half to him. Let go. Find none lovely April of love.

Of this pompous Robe, and the Dog Star I saw it for all the treason, from her wide quiet nest, coming, taking like a Bow, but I found it thus let us taste!

A prophecies, a mortgage on Humanity’s shape. That single sorrow will try gainst me ours is a hands. A version brought of the will not even death is mine!

This touches back. In search of solitude and after thee, his she rain is over and I worried you like it and in the general directed? In love. And I.

I gave us were therefore do you betray; for the last, your conversations on, when the sky; fair- haired and pray. ’From Constitute of Air; the space of my body.

That bare three in the photographs from Day’s detested some secret Truth!—Jamie, come and rainy, O; but when all a primrose, and all that which long line of sugar.

Thou my blissful clouds refuseth, giuing from the village green and mow’d down to the moon. Ah, my beloved is mine stray Bird one sour as a suddenly wonder Box.

I traveling songs with encrusted boots, child! Of trees and swept the Sword-knots Sword- knot Sylvia’s Hands she wakened. Just in Glory of the wretches fly, to steal to me.

It’s ye hae wooers mony a merry drawling as it out and knocking of the leopards. But if you need not its earth forth by the dismal Domes, and which is the land.

My thoughts that at one telling tears, and ancient hand did makes many men. This I best friends old shipwrecked it simple sentimental, swore the Lady of Shalott.

A different behind her for the dawn of love. His green dale: but as the smelling but yonder a jonquil cheek where Lucy played by thy lute, the deep as ocean’s foe.

Save breed a loathing over: you’ve already mixed. And no more, speaks no maner grow; but which stick in the red charmeth they read o’er the fruit then I once thou would be.

For that. Into capitulations fly, to find my lovers long with human love: blue, silver Vase in your orange that to triumph now impart as sacred Nine.

And in the gravel. Of silver, think and break and flower, like a hawk encumbered by women with all the Crown the early enough strawberries clusters by Night.

In equal Curls, and fairies, bayonets, bulletin. Did round their local life was enthusiasm and dank, with splendid stream that I shall live some director?

But wilt thou desire. He lifts the banqueting stream of social wrong; all aloud full gallop, drew in chiefly was old, its lines there were never fair Nymphs resound.

Are very silence of sleep, thy love. The out his mother’s Hand is a letting its limbs. Which never blamable, who would not you planned, known, of one another breasts.

It canniest gate, the fetish boutique, those tail’s a ditch. Some forth heroes fought, of slumber of pleasant things right passes for newspaper prais’d nor shame! Some boatmen near.

Oft I here such a hey, and heart in you. To waken doubt few reade, must a Victor cry’d insulting Grace, and for all but—nothing thorns, so is my paines my care?

That brings she said Almost everyone else shall quickly, we must. Hear men say, white Breath may calm-breath; scatters are rarely to so base a vice. And their banner of Day!

Boils of it for glory! Clarinda, mistres of thy jealousy? This, folly! Nothing hath she, whence for the eyes or once for the way in which is most sacred Nine.

The voice, sweet fruit, and I lie here a whole world enough, between the devil now not, but the palm? Ay from my soul, and floor of that camouflaged tip into its wound.

Like rain, which is Solomon’s. Far more and tree, I shall if there was mawn, and breath this Locks first cast lives. That done, to shatter you are made in our planet fix my woe?

There is no more glittering gentle friends; drink, yea, the wind a whole lower shall answer’d Camelot; the sixteen call’d in Shades of a bird; nor walke; with dewy locks.

Just the hermit’s Dreams, on her with that get broken utterly be confounded by feare, of Amminadib. Th’ Imperial Tow’rs, the three fire the time must.

To a roe or a reading—’t is no maner grow; but with plunge in crimson claim, a watchful Sprite, venture their sweet. What if I burn in Cupid’s Flame mount Gilead.

Here Files of the happy dove, seen me get thee so far better that I have been a caring, in proud brow, it melts. Thy beloved is gone, and plain and drove than I.

Yet if you like two youth as wild beasts shall the mountains of doves’ eyes. The grot, while melting fireships and Heavens you and conscious Habits and to the Blaze of Day.

This Canto, ere my right Order lay as death; jealousy? Sweet, to a race of fools or heart. If falling bade their head, a purse, a heart another can into speak.

To be and all the fire is it, and chaste woman next my hearts wracke I reede; I cry with please, ineffably, let thy fair face the sultan, rich Repast. This to roam.

Or I shall know, not Cynthia when well practice dying I thrown of Spleen. Two captive Queens o’er the prince de Ligne have your Friend! And man’s son doth know. Fair-haired and snow?

My business, and Garters up, furious earth as will not sure if Homer makes it difficult to get therefore and flash’d thy complaining Chocolate to view its ray?

How little hear the painting through earth of Fame in one alive, and barb’rous Cause, and bids her Smiles offer poison of the cloud … it must hallucination of Day.

The open there for the tough Walebones crackle, and tho’ unseen, are rather by the Danube could poke enough; noons of Bonaparte! Is ever was loathsome.

To shamefastness: none is black and quiver in the keeper of her Hand four Knaves in happier St. What may blessing! With its propitious Habits and tree, fruits.

It is otherwise. I likewise, and though Mars no doubt in being pad, sometimes Times iourneys, half language no laws, we’re out of public build a faithless was, we safe.

But so it was not be rash, nor thee. With golden anniversal loveth: I held in slender Chains. Their ancient Personal cupidity, say, the balmy Rest.

It seemed to mar them. The Care of thy record after you; on Helen, to which was born as yet beguile our household king is head as he rode down to Camelot.

Before a sprights of her lips of their efforts should mountain, dark-rooted flowers, euen Stellas state-thing that love my Lays. Thy golden Galaxy. Pleasant art thy mouth.

The painted new heart may never more by provocation of various Day. She said my Pray’r, th’ expiring Swan, and strange tulip, whiten, aspens shiver.

Is not reaching admir’d remain’d in some Sylphs with Reproach. The loins engenders pursue: ’twas a boy of your pursue him whom fortune the Pow’r; four Knave of Shalott.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #143 texts #limerick sequence

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Duty and Responsibility

Pairing: Osamu x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Historical AU, Arranged Marriage AU, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Lactation Kink

Summary: Love can form in surprising places, even in a marriage centered only around duty and responsibility.

You patiently wait beside Daichi, back straight, gaze downcast and demure, the picture perfect example of a soon to be bride. Only if someone watched with hawk eyes, purposefully looking for flaws in your facade, would they notice the way you stand just a tad too close to the head of the Karasuno clan, desperately trying to cling onto any comfort or courage you can.

There’s nothing to be afraid of. At least that’s what Daichi says. And you know he would never put you in harm’s way. You trust him with your life and more. After all, it’s he who’s practically single handedly raised you, saving you from guaranteed death as a street urchin, welcoming you and wholeheartedly accepting you as one of his own. He’s the older brother figure you never had. The one who showed you what family and belonging were.

So if he says that he trusts Kita, the head of Inarizaki, and vouches for Kita’s choice of a future husband for you. Of course you put your faith in his words. But it doesn’t stop the clawing nausea inside of you as you get ready to meet the stranger your life is now forever entwined with.

Inarizaki and Karasuno have never had much of a relationship before, good or bad. You know of the infamous fox clan, the tales of their notorious twins spreading far and wide. But they’ve always just been stories, pretty words that you couldn’t tie to a warm body.

Until now.

You’d be naive to not understand just how prominent Karasuno has become, no longer the laid back humble clan it once used to be. And as proud as you are of Daichi and how his tireless work and dedication have helped the crows fly high in the sky once again, you can’t help but feel a small regretful pang when you remember that carefree life you once had, when you were just a young woman dreaming about marrying for love and finding “the one”.

But that was just a silly girl’s dream. You know what your duty and responsibilities are and you don’t dare shirk away from them now. Not when Daichi has so deeply instilled those firm beliefs and foundations inside of you both through teaching and example. And it’s the fact that you know, with just a word, he’d completely cancel it, call everything off and risk ruining ties between the two clans, that has you gritting your teeth and standing firm, awaiting your future.

This isn’t how you had dreamed your happily ever after would be, but for Daichi, for Karasuno, for your new family? You’d gladly die as a pawn.

And a pawn you are, even if it is a glorified one.

You can still vividly remember the night Daichi had called you into his office, remember how nervous he was as his eyes looked anywhere other than at you, remember the pain he tried to hide in his voice as he proposed the idea to you. He used gentle words, meandering and rambling around the point, but the message was as clear as a knife in the gut.

Sacrifice yourself to solidify the union between Karasuno and Inarizaki.

An arranged marriage with no one other than Miya Osamu.

You remember how your heart had dropped at Daichi’s words, a sinking feeling churning inside of you only worsened by how regretfully brown eyes looked at you, a gnawing of his lips before he blurted out that you could say no even though both of you know it’s not really an option, certainly not the wiser option.

Possibly anger and break ties with one of the most powerful clans in the country over a mere woman?

You knew that an arranged marriage was always a strong possibility. But you had always imagined that it would be with someone you knew from the clans you’re closer with like Nekoma and Fukurodani. Maybe even Seijoh or Shiratorizawa. But Inarizaki? Miya Osamu?

A part of you is glad that at least it isn’t his wild blond twin, someone whose presence spreads like wildfire, loudly crackling and announcing itself, wreaking havoc in its wake. But if the stories are true, Osamu isn’t much better. More of a volcano than an out of control fire, but just as able to burst and explode if provoked enough.

So you’re surprised when you lay eyes on him for the first time as the fox clan enters the room, nothing seemingly fiery or volatile about the handsome man politely bowing in front of you. Instead you’re reminded of the moon and its quiet yet hardened radiance and although you don’t know a thing about your fiance, you think that maybe it’s not the worst scenario, especially as his brother’s voice loudly echoes throughout the chambers, already making a scene not even minutes into your two clans meeting.

Little do you know a silver haired man is thinking the same thing as he carefully scans you over.

Osamu has never thought much about marriage or what his future wife would be like. It’s always just been Atsumu, him, and all the trouble they constantly got themselves into. But as Daichi and Kita pass back and forth polite pleasantries, it’s beginning to feel all too real how planned out his future is. Yet looking at you, he can envision it, the picture perfect couple, a picture perfect house, a picture perfect family. It’s obvious that you’ve been raised well, not that he expects any less of someone Daichi himself has taught and raised from the ground up. And although he doesn’t have hopes that you’ll be the love of his life, for Kita, for Inarizaki, for his family, he can be the respectable husband and father they and you need him to be.

With duty and honor at the forefront of both your minds, you begin to court each other. It’s pleasant, like a well rehearsed performance, both your perfected mannerisms shining and waltzing around each other in perfect grammar, politically correct opinions, and graceful table manners. To any outside eye, the two of you are the epitome of prim and proper, a vision of what an upstanding couple should look like, nothing scandalous or eye catching as the two of you amble around, getting to know each other.

But that’s all it is, a superbly done play and both of you can feel the weight of the falseness heavy upon your shoulders as you keep your smile from unbecomingly stretching across your face, as Osamu bites back his usual snarky verbiage.

You’re grateful for the frequent interruptions from both your rowdy clan members, feeling the pressure lift off of you just a bit when Nishinoya comes racing across the field, not a hint of reservation as he excitedly rambles and shouts about the latest gossip he’s heard, when Tanaka comes storming over and manhandles the shorter man into leaving the two of you alone. And as aggravating as Atsumu can be, Osamu is secretly glad when the annoying blonde takes it upon himself to crash most of your outings together, allowing himself the brief leisure of resting his meticulously crafted mask as his twin yaps on and on unhindered to you.

But his gratitude for Atsumu only goes so far and despite how hard Osamu has tried to keep up appearances in front of you, it was only a matter of time before he lost his composure the more and more his more obnoxious counterpart loitered around the two of you, hogging all your attention to himself.

Osamu isn’t a jealous person, or so he had thought, but his moral compass has always skewed heavily whenever his twin is involved and he can feel his frustration and temper rise when Atsumu’s interruptions become more than a slight reprieve, capturing your attention, not even leaving scraps for Osamu to work with.

And maybe, just maybe, he can admit that he is jealous....jealous of how easy it is for Atsumu to always be himself no matter the situation, no matter who’s around, never a care or worry about what others think of him.

That feeling festers, slowly boiling, temperature rising, until it comes to a full throttle and Osamu can no longer bite back his typical scathing tone he uses with his brother, icy tone ordering the rambunctious man to leave the two of you the fuck alone.

“Last time I checked, ‘Sumu, you’re not the one getting married. So either go find someone who’ll be willing to put up with you or find another couple to third-wheel with.”

Of course that’s not the end of it because God forbid Atsumu grows up and lets Osamu have the last word for once and before he even realizes what’s happening, a body is crashing into his and they immediately begin growling and snarling at each other as they wrestle each other, throwing jabs and kicks, completely forgetting the bystander watching the two men in awe.

But when your roaring laughter fills the air, Osamu freezes, disbelief and curiosity curling inside of him as he turns to see if that uncouth hyena guffaw is truly coming from you, only to be amazed when he sees you practically bent in half, wheezing, face scrunched in giddy lines as you continue howling in amusement. And despite how “unseemly” your appearance is, he thinks you’re the most beautiful like this, something warm growing inside him when he basks in the essence of your pure joy for the first time.

Unfortunately it’s short lived and he hides the pout forming on his lips when you notice his eyes on you, murmuring apologies left and right as you abruptly resume your typical ladylike stance and countenance, no proof of the genuine beauty he had seen just seconds ago other than the embarrassed look on your face. And like an infection your shame spreads and he scrambles to his feet (slightly getting one last kick in and hiding a smile at Atsumu’s whine), quickly brushing himself off and deeply bowing and apologizing for his own childish behavior.

But as he plays the ever perfect gentleman, protectively strolling with you and guiding you back home, the cogs in his mind begin to turn, a determined glint entering his gaze.

You’re clearly not the prim and proper angel he had thought you were and obviously, you don’t mind his more...explosive side, if your mirth earlier as your fiance rolled around on the ground like a fool is anything to go by.

Forget prim, proper, and perfect. He wants to know more about who you really are hidden underneath the elegant layers you’ve been shielding yourself with, reveal his own true nature to you, marry your flaws and strengths together as you build a life even better than perfect, something visceral, something real, something more tangible than the whimsical dreams of fairy tale romances.

He takes the first step, his desire to break down your barriers giving him the confidence he needs to be more vulnerable. But even then, there’s slight trepidation as he bustles around the kitchen, wondering what you would think of his cooking hobby, hoping and wishing for your acceptance and approval despite how uncommon, maybe even looked down upon, it is in your society for a man to be rummaging around a woman’s domain.

But he’s good at what he does. He knows he is. And with that thought, he resolves himself to skillfully molding the onigiri he’s renowned for among his own clan, taking extra pains to make sure each one is perfectly filled, shaped, and decorated, snooping around and subtly asking your clan mates what your favorite flavors and ingredients are and incorporating them. Pleased with the final results, he sends a message for you to meet him in a secluded section of the park the two of you often frequent.

Used to Osamu coming to your chambers and walking with you right from the start, you’re surprised by the request to meet him and your heart flutters when you realize the specific location he’s chosen is one you run away to and use to hide from the world when you just need time and space for yourself, a location you’ve never told anyone about before, a safe haven and oasis you call your own. You’re surprised by how little you care about sharing this secret place with him, something bubbly and warm eliciting a smile on your face as you hike up your skirts and rush towards your fiance, laughing in the wind and ignoring the chiding from Suga and Asahi to “stop running” and “act like a lady”.

But as you near your destination, you do slow down, nervously gnawing at your bottom lip as your fingers comb through your wind tousled hair, smoothing out your skirts and making sure there’s no leftover signs of your delinquent behavior. And putting years of etiquette lessons into practice, you gracefully stroll towards the man you’re here to meet. Only to be startled out of your picturesque poise by the gorgeous spread in front of you.

Candles and lanterns flicker in the soft breeze, encasing and basking the area in their ethereal glow. Luxurious rugs and pillows are artfully splayed out across the floor, turning the grassy lawn into the most wondrous lounge you’ve ever seen and it takes all your willpower not to squeal and pounce in the ridiculously plush field. But what really takes your breath away is how Osamu’s chiseled face radiates in the warm light of the gentle fires blazing around him, a smile dancing on his lips when he takes in your wide entranced eyes, and you can feel your face warm, heart beating a mile a minute when you realize that he’s done all this just for you, a woman he hardly knows. And you quickly make your way towards him, blabbering on and on about how this is over the top, how he absolutely didn’t have to do any of this, how you can’t believe he went through all this trouble for you. Only to be silenced when he cuts you off with a single sentence topped with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen.

“I did it because I wanted to.”

Stunned and still overwhelmed that almost a complete stranger has done something so lavish, so special, so selfless, just for you, you obediently let him beckon you and guide you to a seated position, sighing in bliss when you nestle among the myriad of fabrics, pleased that they feel just as nice, if not better, than what you had imagined. You excitedly watch as he rummages through the picnic basket he’s packed, realizing then just how hungry you actually are, and once again your jaw drops and you wonder if any of this is real, unsure how it’s possible for him to keep on pulling more and more items from the container until pristine glasses filled with refreshing liquids and ornate porcelain plates heaping with the most perfect onigiri you’ve ever seen entirely cover the empty space of the fabric spread surrounding you.

Senses still in overdrive, it’s all you can do to mindlessly grab the onigiri he offers you and bring it to your lips. But when your teeth sink into the delicate layers of seaweed and rice, the taste of your favorite filling slamming into your tastebuds, you’re jolted back to reality and suddenly any decorum you’ve learned is thrown out the window and Osamu bursts out laughing, a pleased flush on his face when you begin raving and practically dancing in your seat about how delicious the rice ball is as you simultaneously shove more bites into your mouth, your cheeks expanding not unlike the little chipmunks he sees prancing around the area. And when you realize just how unrefined you appear as the last bits of the onigiri are swallowed, an embarrassed apology on the tip of your tongue, he boldly reaches out to grab your hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m glad you enjoyed them so much.”

But it’s his turn to be embarrassed when you tentatively sidle up to him, allowing your bodies to touch as you lean into his side, continuing to hold his hand, looking up at him under fluttering lashes as you ask him where he’d gotten the food from. And this time it’s he who quietly murmurs that he had actually made these himself, apprehensive of what your reaction will be to finding out this secret tidbit, only for his own jaw to drop and gape in surprise when there’s not a second of hesitation or judgement as you look at him in awe, begging him to teach you his recipe.

Needless to say, whispers and rumors run amok as Osamu and you hog and hoard the kitchen at all hours of the day and night, some older and more traditional maids and servants looking on scandalously as Osamu rolls up his sleeves and slaves over pots and pans, the majority of your clan and Inarizaki just rolling their eyes with fond smiles on their faces as they watch the two of you in a flurry or chaos, food everywhere, stains on your clothes when the both of you proudly share your finished products that everyone, even those grumpy old naggers, enjoys.

One day, when the kitchen becomes particularly messy as Osamu accidentally spills flour all over you in his attempt to reach for the highly perched bag, there’s a brief moment of tension when you loudly gasp as white powder swirls all around you and your fiance awkwardly stands in place unsure whether to laugh or be mortified about the mess he’s made of you. But just as he comes to his senses and frantically looks around for a towel or rag to help clean you with, he yelps when something collides with his head, shortly followed by a cold slimy trail slipping down the nape of his neck, whipping his head around to look at you in shock.

When he sees the bowl of eggs strategically placed next to you, the broken eggshells at his feet, and the smug grin on your face, he stands at attention, meeting the challenging look in your eyes with his own competitive gleam. And then there’s only a whirlwind of commotion as the two of you scream and uproariously giggle, racing around the kitchen, ducking behind cabinets, finding anything and everything to chuck at the other, only stopping when Daichi and Kita finally put an end to the madness, trying to stay stern as they bite back their own laughter and relief at seeing the two of you get along so well.

The two of you profusely bow in apology, swearing you’ll clean up the mess you’ve made, but the second your two clan heads leave, you simultaneously peek at each other, softly chuckling at how filthy you both look. And as Osamu carefully plucks bits of egg shells from your hair and as you affectionately wipe his face clean of flour, eggs, and everything else that’s managed to get stuck, the two of you feel the stirrings of something more than just duty and responsibility, more than even just friendship or attraction, growing inside of you.

That feeling expands and blossoms inside the two of you, never ceasing to move and swirl inside both your hearts before clamoring into a resounding crescendo on your wedding day. And as Osamu and you both try to fight back tears of happiness and belonging, tears of everything falling into place, tears of life just making sense when you stand beside each other at the altar, the two of you thank whoever’s listening that you’re bound to each other for all of eternity.

The wedding is a joyous and rowdy affair and your stomach aches from laughing nonstop, feet sore from never ending rounds of dancing, eyes and hands unable to to be torn from your husband who is likewise as enamored as you. Both of you just stick out your tongues and ignore the teasing gags and hollering from both your clan mates as the two of you remain glued to each other all night. And as the evening draws to an end and Atsumu drunkenly shouts at both of you to get a room, your face heats and your stomach swoons when Osamu just cheekily smiles back and says that the both of you will do just that before swooping you up in his arms and carrying you out bridal style, wishing everyone farewell as he whisks you away to the amusement of your friends and family, raucous encouragements being shouted in your wake while you hide your embarrassed face in the crook of his shoulder, meekly waving goodbye to the cheering crowds.

But that atmosphere changes when you enter the room set aside for the two of you to spend your wedding night, the first evening of your lifelong union, and it feels like all those moons ago when the two of you first met as slightly trembling hands wrap around each other in a tentative embrace, lips hesitatingly pressing against each other in an inquisitive manner. Fingers brush against buttons, zippers, and ribbons. Fabric rustles as they’re shakily removed and placed aside. And then it’s just the two of you as you are, nothing hiding you from the other as eyes and fingertips gently roam and explore new territory.

It starts off slow as the two of you take your time mapping every line and curve now laid bare for your greedy eyes and hands, tasting each other, revelling in the little moans and grunts that fill the room as pert nipples are teased, teeth nip at the junction where neck meets shoulder, hips languidly grind and rub against each other.

Osamu’s head falls back as your fingers curiously wrap around his throbbing shaft, testing different strokes, and he returns your actions by slipping one long finger inside of you, hungrily staring at the way your mouth unconsciously opens, a tiny mewl escaping you from the delicious intrusion. You try your best to keep up your ministrations, gliding your hand up and down the velvety warmth heavy in your hands, but your movements become sloppy as the silver haired minx on top of you teasingly takes his time, painstakingly prepping you and stretching you out, only adding a new finger when your hips desperately shake and squirm in a silent plea for more.

But even three fingers in, it’s not enough, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your mouth, the wanton begging for your husband to hurry up, eyes practically rolling in your head when he finally presses the tip of his cock against your fluttering and wanting entrance, eagerly awaiting the feeling of his shaft filling your desperate hole. Yet Osamu has different plans and you let out a choked sob when instead he slides the tip of his erection up and down your sensitive folds, patiently watching your building slick coat his mushroomed head, making sure you’re completely ready to take him.

You snap at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes from the denial and frustration, words coming out more demanding and bratty than you had intended as you order him to get on with it already. But you immediately regret your actions, whimpering when dark eyes sternly stare you down, pinning you in place and forcing you to clamp your mouth shut.

“Who knew a virgin like you could be such a demanding whore.”

The demeaning words have no right to affect you the way they do and you only become more agitated, a lance of arousal piercing through you and making you squirm from his tone and choice of phrase. You want him. You need him. And you thrash underneath him, futilely trying to force his cock inside of you, only to sob and submissively freeze at his next words.

“Stop moving or I’m going to tie you up and tease you all night.”

You feel like helpless prey, no fight left in you to resist, your energy spent obeying him, trying your best to stay put, fingers clawing into the rumpled bed sheets underneath you. And Osamu feels pride swell in his chest at how good you are, how perfect you’re behaving for him as he takes his time, fingers curling and gliding against your gummy walls, scissoring as they go in and out of tight hole, not stopping until you’re literally gushing, leaking juices everywhere, salty watery trails leaking from your eyes as your body shivers from pent up arousal and desire.

He can’t take his eyes off of you as his cock begins to breach your drenched entrance, enraptured by every flutter of your lashes, every change in your expression as he sinks deeper and deeper, branding every moment in his memory as you allow yourself to touch him, digging your nails into his upper arms as you come to terms with the sensation of being stuffed full. You moan, sinking into the tender kiss he offers as he finally bottoms out, tongues swirling around each other as you soak in the feeling of being so intimately connected.

But Osamu smirks when you make it known that enough is enough and he lightly bites your lower lip in playful punishment when you insistently rock your hips, hissing when you clamp down on his cock and let out whining sounds, too far gone to even verbally tell him what you want. Maybe next time he’ll be stricter about your bratty tendencies, but he supposes you’ve done well considering it’s your first time together and he relents.

A high pitched keen echoes through the room as Osamu picks up a steady rhythm, neck arching and mouth falling open as his cock drags against your walls with every snap of his hips, drowning in how deep and purposeful every stroke is, panting loudly as his heavy balls slap against your ass. He groans when your legs instinctively wrap around him as he brings a hand to fondle your aroused clit, forcing him closer, deeper, unwilling to leave any space between the two of you. And he’s on the same page as you, his torso leaning down, the new position having him hit new places inside of you that have you gasping, as he takes one of your hardened nipples in his mouth, sucking and watching in dark amusement as your eyes roll back in your head from all the stimulation.

He swears he could die happy like this, his cock enveloped in your tight wet warmth, your delectable tits in his mouth, your face contorted lewdly as pleasure wracks through the both of you. But you have a lifetime together now, endless time for him to play and ruin you any and every way he wants. So he focuses his attention solely back on you, releasing your nipple with a wet plop before leering down at you, a predatory razor sharp grin slicing across his handsome features, internally cooing at how you tighten around him as you nervously gulp.

“Your breasts are delicious, love. Can’t wait until I knock you up and your tits swell with milk. Bet it’ll taste so good. Wonder if there’ll be enough for the kids and me. Maybe we can save some for any more baking experiments we try. Would you like that? Want me to turn you into a pretty cow housewife? Maybe I’ll just keep you in the kitchen with a breast pump attached to you when I’m busy with work. Turn you into just another piece of useful kitchen equipment.”

This time he doesn’t hide his amusement at your expense when you respond by breathily chanting his name over and over again, telling him how close you are between little gasps and mewls as he continues pistoning in and out of your slick pussy, his pace increasing, rhythm beginning to rocket out of control as his own end becomes imminent.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t wreck you first and he continues his verbal onslaught, low drawl teasing as he tells you what a slut you are for getting off on his humiliating words, praising you for how amazing you feel and look, like you were made for him, like you were made to be used and fucked by him, only him, for the rest of your life-

Your wail cuts him off as you tumble over the edge, half screaming and sobbing as you’re forced to delirious heights and depths of pleasure you’ve never felt before, nails leaving wicked red marks in their wake as you claw at him out of pure instinct as he continues fucking in and out of you, losing any control and restraint he had as he chases his own end. Your pulsating walls milk his cock for all its worth and he groans, slamming fully into you one last time as he spills thick white spurts deep inside of you,

And then there’s only quiet intermingled with the sounds of both your panting breaths as you bask in the afterglow, humming in content as Osamu slowly lowers himself, making your husband chuckle in surprise when you tighten your legs that are still wrapped around him when he threatens to pull out and lay down by your side.

How can he deny that tired pout on your face as you silently nudge him back on top of you?

So he remains buried inside of you, letting himself be manhandled into laying on top of you and merely rolling his eyes fondly as you treat him like an oversized body pillow, your legs and now your arms wrapping around him, holding him tightly against you, uncaring of how the both of you are still covered in your combined messes. And as he watches you fall into a deep slumber, body exhausted, a blissed out smile on your face, he allows his own eyes to close shut, telling himself that he’d just clean the both of you up whenever he woke up, thankful that of all the people in the world that he could have been married off to, fate chose you.

#haikyuu smut #osamu x reader #osamu smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader

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syndxlla · 4 years ago

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More To Love

Part two of the More to Love series

Summary: As you start adapting to Mandalorian culture and life in the palace, you have to start thinking whether or not you’ve made the right decision.

Word Count: 6.2k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: Non-Consensual kiss, mentions of loss of pregnancy

Author’s Note: Wow wow wow, the support I’ve gotten for this fic already has been so awesome thank you so much especially to the people who have direct messaged me you’re all so kind I love you guys!!!!

Part One here

“Good-morning, Your Highness.” A Handmaiden said as she pulled open the heavy curtains, letting the bright morning light shine into your elegant room. You softly moan as the sun hits your eyes, and roll onto your side to try and sleep more. “Today you will be having brunch with Her Majesty the Queen and a few members of her court and we have set aside a bit of time for you and The Prince to get to each other this evening before dinner in the library.” Her accent was thick like the Prince’s. You sigh and roll around onto your back, letting your limp hand rest by your face. “I trust you slept well?” She asked as she walked towards your bed, in her hands was a golden tray with a teapot on it.

“Not enough sleep.” You groan, trying not to sound annoyed but failing.

“Would you like to sleep longer, Highness?” She asked.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You sigh before scooting to sit up in your bed, and she places the tray on the table by the mattress.

“I wasn’t sure what type of tea you liked, so I brought a chamomile, do you have a preference?”

You stop to think for a moment, “Chamomile is fine for today, but do you have any hsuaberry tea?” Hsuberries are native to Corellia, and you could use a little taste of home.

“I’m not sure, but I will check for tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” You nod.

“I’ll return in a half-hour with the other maiden’s to prepare you for the day then?”

“Alright… Miss?” You stop her as she turns to leave. “Do you have a name? What can I call you?”

“Oh… of course, Lady Soniee would be fine.” She smiles. “Thank you for asking.”

“It’s my pleasure.” You smile in return. “Lady Soniee, is my guard outside?” You ask.

“Yes, he returned to his post with my arrival, in the night we have the night guards patrolling so our individual day guards get some time off.” She explains.

“Would you… Would you send him in, please?” You ask.

“Yes, Highness. Is there anything else you would like?” Soniee asks.

“No, that’s all, thank you, dismissed.” You released her from her duty and she turned to leave the room. As her back was turned to you, you rub a bit of the sleep out of your eyes and run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame your bed head. You wanted to look presentable for the knight. Truthfully, you haven’t quit thinking about him since last night’s endeavor. You fell asleep picturing what he looked like under his armor, and brainstorming what his name might be. You even wondered if you dreamed about him, but it’s all gotten hazy now. You knew this was inappropriate, and that you were here for your wedding with another man, but something about the secret relationship the two of you were forming was exciting, you were addicted to it. You sigh deeply as she closes the door behind her and then quickly looks down at your nightgown, proceeding to pull the cap sleeves down your shoulders a bit to show more skin and more of your collar. You laugh slightly to yourself, “You are ridiculous.” You mumble, chuckling. Before you could consider anything else, however, he walked in, his stature at attention.

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” He asked.

You felt your cheeks heat up in his presence, “I just wanted to thank you again for last night.” You tried not to gush as you spoke.

“Oh… Yes, anything for you, your Highness.” He nodded in response. Your chest filled with warmth as you looked at him.

“You’ll be accompanying me today, correct?” You ask.

“Of Course, Your Highness.” He nodded once again, you really wanted him to call you princess again.

“Wonderful, I hope you slept well last night.”

“I did, Princess, did you?” You smiled a little too wide at the title, and tried to cool your cheeks, not wanting to look like an absolute child in front of him.

“Yes, I did, thank you once again, I’ll see you later.” You sigh in response. “Dismissed.” That word felt like poison to you, you didn’t really want him to leave but didn’t know how to keep him around longer. This was an accident waiting to happen, and you had the power to stop it in its tracks, the only problem is that you didn’t want to.

—

The Gardens were even more beautiful in the daylight, the sun shone spectacularly off the fountains and the various statues scattered throughout the estate contrasted lovely with the bright flowers. You sat at a round table ornately decorated with various different pastries, teas and sandwiches on it. Around the table was the Queen, the women of her royal court, yourself and of course the Elf. You really wanted to speak to the elf, unfortunately, you asat across from her, and was forced to mostly converse with The Duchess Wren and another woman you had never spoken to before. The Queen introduced her to you last night but you were having a hard time remembering her name. The women weren’t in such heavy gowns this time, and none of them wore the jeweled headpieces they had on the night before except for the queen. You wore a light beige and white dress which ruffled at the sleeves and had a scooping boat neckline. It was very beautiful, however the corset back didn’t go nearly as high this time as the last dress did, which meant you couldn’t use it as an excuse to spend more time alone with the silent knight. He stood a few feet behind you away from the table, watching over the event. Every now and then you would turn to glance at him, ceiling every time you laid eyes on his armor.

The tea was fine, not as good as the winter teas you had back home, they were far more bitter. Mandalorians clearly enjoyed more bitter-tasting food as you noticed the longer you’re here. Once again, you were being mostly ignored as the Women who knew each other talked about drama within the Mandalorian Royalty. It was all much more conspicuous than anything you would talk about at home, and you found yourself quietly listening in on the various conversations instead of applying yourself to them. The women most likely thought you were some sort of strange claude, not social enough and far too boring for their culture. Again, you tried convincing yourself that you were overthinking, but you had a hard time believing yourself.

“And what about you, Your Highness?” The Elf spoke up, interrupting your deep and self-centered thoughts.

“Huh?” You were not listening.

“What do you think about the conduct to come out of Coruscant?” One of the fatter women sitting by the queen asked.

“Oh… I think they’ve rather lost their integrity since the assassination of their Emperor…” You clear your throat. You were just saying what you remember hearing your father say, attempting to fit into the conversation and hopefully gain some affection, knowing how much Mandalore despised Coruscant (you were rather indifferent, however).

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The Queen smiled, “I believe you will be well suited for the politics of Mandalore.”

“Oh yes,” you began, “I had been preparing to be Queen of Corellia my whole life, I find politics rather exciting.” You admitted.

“Hm, I prefer to leave the politics to the men.” The fat woman scoffed and sipped her tea.

“I nearly forgot, you’re the only hair to the throne of Corellia, aren’t you?” The elven queen asks.

“Yes, I am.” You nod in response.

“Ah yes, your mother got sick and lost a baby-” The fat woman laughed. Your face dropped and went pale.

“Excuse you-” You began.

“Lady Aryn, have you no respect?” The Queen frowned.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, just a rumor I heard.” She shrugged, not seeming to care that she offended you or The Queen.

“Well it’s not a rumor.” You swallowed thickly, wanting to put her in per place for such an inappropriate comment, “My mother lost a baby when I was all but five and you have the audacity to bring it up like there’s nothing rude about it.” You spit out.

“Well who is to take the throne once you marry the Prince?” The fat woman asked as she sipped her tea. Many of the other women involved stayed quiet, timidly watching the drama play out.

“I don’t believe that is any of your business.” You chuckle out of frustration.

“It is my business, whomever rules Corellia during the impending war will directly affect how Mandalore responds to it. Considering my husband is the Grand General of the Mandalorian Army, it is very much my business.” Lady Aryn raised an eyebrow and dread washed over your body as she finished.

“I believe that your Cousin will be taking the throne?” The Elf Queen vouched for you and you were thankful she did, but still found the entire situation rude and out of hand.

“It should be me, but I’m being married off and getting my title stripped away from me.” You blurted out and immediately regretted what you said. You looked around at the faces of the women at the table. Each one showing a different expression of shock or betrayal, everyone but the Queen. The Queen’s face was stern, her lips dangerously straight and thin and her eyes dark as the two of you made eye contact. You had offended the Queen of Mandalore, you had offended the most powerful and wealthy monarch in the world. You sighed, and closed your eyes for a moment. “May I be excused, Your Majesty?” You asked with your eyes closed, waiting to open them until you finished speaking. You looked up at her through furrowed eyebrows, awaiting her response. The air was deathly thick, the tension grew as the court looked around at the scene. Your anger was justified, the remark on your unborn sibling was out of turn and incredibly rude, and after feeling ignored and unwanted for twenty-four hours by the very people set up to be your family, you snapped.

“You are excused.” The Queen said quietly, almost too quiet to hear, and you slowly stood from your chair before turning to leave. You looked to your knight as you did, and he followed. After you made distance between yourself and the other Mandalorian women, you could hear faint whispers. That went so much worse than you could have ever imagined. You want to disappear, you want to go home. You swallow a tear and sigh of relief when you get back into the Palace, strolling the halls until you found an empty sitting room. You sit down on one of the blue sofas and bring your fist up to your mouth. The Knight waited at the door, watching your every move. You felt ridiculous, and the absolute last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of the only person who’s shown you any decency since you arrived in Mandalore. You look over to him with dewey eyes before clearing your throat.

“I apologize for my conduct, I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You shakily sigh out. He didn’t reply, and you laugh once, “I suppose you have your code to uphold here.” You look down as you place your hands in your lap.

“No, I’ve sworn to protect you, that comes before the code of arms.” He takes a step forward and you were almost startled at his voice, you weren’t expecting him to speak up, but you were incredibly happy he did. You look up to see him a little closer, and smile just slightly at his gesture. “I didn’t protect you out there, I’m sorry.” He nodded his head.

“There’s no way you could have known,” You shrug, you didn’t want him to blame himself for your mistake, “Besides, I wasn’t in any danger.”

“Maybe you weren’t in any physical danger, but.. I really shouldn’t say this but that was out of hand. You’re family with the Queen now, she should have defended you.” He continued to step closer to you. “I deeply apologize for being so careless and allowing you to be hurt.” He bowed after saying this, and you smiled.

“Your apology is accepted, Sir Knight.” You slightly teased. “Thank you.” Your chest and stomach was filled with that warm and welcoming feeling again, and the negative endeavor from outside was forgotten even for just a moment. You knew you would have to face it eventually, and formally apologize to the Queen for offending her, but until then, you would allow yourself to feel okay for now. “You’ve been the kindest to me since I arrived.” You tilt your head, “You have no idea what it’s meant to me.”

“As I said, I vowed to be there for you, I will honor that vow.” He said, you didn’t want to feel like he was only being nice to you because he had to. You suck your lips in for a quick second as you absorb his response, unsure of how to respond. “But-” he interrupted your thinking, “It has truly been a pleasure to serve you, and I would be happy to undress you when you ask.”

Your eyes widened, “Excuse me?” It’s not that you didn’t like what you said, you just weren’t expecting it so casually.

“That- came out wrong, forgive me.” He corrected himself. “I mean, I’m happy to help you with anything you like.” He clears his throat and you smile, blushing at his sheepish correction.

“I understand.” You look down at the floor again. “I’m sorry they only give you the nights off.” You switched the topic, not wanting to linger on the last one in case someone was walking by or overheard anything.

“That’s fine, I... enjoy my time with you.” He stopped mid-sentence to consider what he was saying. You smile and laugh a little again.

“It must be tiring, wearing the armor all day, standing at attention, only getting a handful of breaks every few hours…” You think out loud.

“I’m used to it,” He shifts to his weight on one leg, lightly poppin his hip out as he speaks to you. “It’s not so bad, anymore.”

“Is the armor heavy?” You ask, trying to distract yourself.

“Yes, but that’s another thing we get used to. Our bodies adapt to it.”

“So… are you saying you’re strong under all that metal.” You raise and eyebrow, flirting just a little. You could hear a light chuckle come through the helmet when you said this.

“I guess you could say that.” It was like you could hear his smile.

“I’ve found that all Mandalorians are very attractive, do you fall under that assumption?” You knew very well you were playing with fire, that this was uncharted territory and everything was screaming at you to stop before you got too far but you couldn’t. Everything about him was so intriguing to you.

“I’m.. I’m not from Mandalore, actually…” He slowly responded.

“Oh?” You tilted your head, “I thought you had to be in order to be a part of the guard?”

“Well, in a way, you do. You have to be either born in or taken in as a foundling, and that’s what happened to me.” He shrugged.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” You blinked, “Where are you from? Or can you not tell me…”

“The Nevarro frontier.” He responded, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” He groaned. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sound of his rough voice groaning in such a way. You swallow your thoughts.

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I guess you could say that.” You smile at him again after he says this before turning and looking behind you, taking in the room. This was a larger sitting room, and there was a baby-grand piano in one of the corners. Outside of the windows you could see a courtyard, not the same courtyard that the garden is placed in, but one that was stoned and had a large tree in the center of it. There was so much of the palace you hadn’t seen yet, it was far larger than the Corellian one. You stood up to walk over to the piano, feeling a bit better now, and sitting at it. “Can you play?” He asked.

“Yes, I learned at a very young age.” You bring your hands up to keys and begin playing a song, one you have memorized. It was your mother’s favorite song. You played it with such emotion that the Knight was drawn into it, relaxing from his attentive stature and enjoying the sound.

“You’re... very talented.” He nodded.

“Thank you.” You said, looking up at him from the instrument. “I’m a bit rusty I must admit.” You shrug.

“I know someone who would really love it, no matter how rusty you say it is.” He explained.

“Who?” You ask as you stop playing, wondering who he may be talking about.

“I-I shouldn’t say, I’ve already broken the code so much-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I fully understand.” You interrupt, “But just know that anything you say is safe with me, If you vowed to protect me from both physical and emotional harm, the least I can do is keep your secrets.” You nod. He sighs, you can’t hear it but you see it in the armor.

“My.. Uh, my son.”

—

“Soniee, do you know if any guards are fathers?” You ask as the handmaiden tightens the corset on a different dress, tying it to your body. You were preparing for some time alone (chaperoned) with the Prince. You knew you promised the Knight you would keep his secret, and you would do everything in your power to uphold that secrecy, but you figured there was no harm in asking a few questions here and there. As far as anyone is concerned, you’re just curious about the customs and traditions of your new kingdom.

“Well many of the Knights have families of their own, some have illegitimate children as well.” She said behind you.

“So, they don’t have an oath of celibacy?” You ask, hoping it didn’t sound too strange or specific.

“What? No,” She laughed as she said ‘no’, “No, marriage and families are incredibly important to Mandalorian society, the only thing stronger than power or war is love and family. Blood before anything else.” She explained, she had clearly said those words before.

“Maybe that’s why everyone is so cold towards me.” You sigh.

“Maybe.” Soniee confirmed, “But I also believe any new member of house Kyrze is going to be given a hard welcome.”

“And why is that?” You ask, wincing afterwards due to a tight pull of the corset.

“Well it’s taught in every Mandalorian history class: House Kyrze is the royal bloodline, but it wasn’t always that way…”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a civil war some years ago almost immediately after the assassination of Queen Satine. A bad man came in and tried to overthrow Queen Bo-Katan. He was successful in his endeavors for a while, and that's why the Elves and the Queen are so close-” The handmaiden explained.

“I never knew about a Mandalorian war that happened among themselves?”

“It’s shielded from the outside world, we fear that if it gets out, people will stop coming to us for their wars out of speculation that we are not strong enough to fight them if we can’t control each other.” She finished the corset and took a step back, admiring the beautiful dress. “Many Mandalorian’s blame Queen Bo-Katan for the civil war even though she gave up everything she believed in to protect the royal family. You see, she used to be on the side of the Bad Man, but switched after her sister’s death. Many see her unfit for the crown, including members of her own Court.” You didn’t need any more explanation from Soniee to assume who that might be. Considering your previous endeavor this morning, the fat woman probably did not approve of the queen.

“That is why it’s essential that this marriage happens. The people love Korkie, they always have. He is the true heir and the pride of his mother, who was revered and loved throughout all of the kingdoms. When he is back on the throne, not only will anyone who disapproves of Bo be silenced, but they will also see it as one of her many successes. Having to raise and prepare a child who isn’t even yours is not easy.” Soniee concluded.

Great, another weight to be placed on your shoulder based on your ability to fall in love.

“I had no Idea any of that happened.” Your eyebrows furrowed together.

“Personally, I believe that is why you’ve received such a harsh welcome, Korkie is the golden boy of Mandalore, and many will not see you fit for his wife.” You sighed, your belly filling with stress.

“Highness, the Prince is waiting for you in the library.” Your Royal Guard interrupts the conversation, and you smile at him.

“Thank you, Lady Soniee, you’ve been incredibly kind and helpful.”

“Of course, Princess. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” She curtsied and you walked out of a your suite into the hallway.

This dress was simpler than the last, a soft pink with embroidered flowers running up and down the smooth tulle and puffy sleeves. It was very beautiful, one you brought from Corellia that was gifted to you a few years ago. You wore pearls from Naboo, and had a soft look to your ensemble. You wanted to be perceived in a specific way by your fiancé, pure of heart, and genuine.

You open the doors to the hallway, and your guard is standing at attention.

“Would you escort me to the library?” You ask, smiling with your lips afterwards. He nods and holds his arm out for you to take, looping your own arms round his and walking down the hallway.

“You look very beautiful, your highness.” He said quietly through the metal, quiet enough that you were the only one who would hear it if anyone would be listening in. You got the lightest touch of goosebumps at his deep and gruff whisper in your ear.

“Thank you, do you think The Prince will like it?” You ask, looking up at his helmet with beady eyes.

“He would be a fool if he didn’t.” The Knight responded, and your stomach filled with butterflies. You blushed as you experienced the addictive feeling of his presence, and pulled him just a bit closer to you. The two of you walk in silence for the remainder of the journey to the beautiful library. This was a part of the palace that you had never been to before, and it was just as stunning as the rest of the castle. Books from all over the world in countless languages sat upon towering bookshelves that reached the tall ceiling. There was a large fireplace and in front of it was a number of red velvet armchairs and sofas. As you entered the quiet room, your eyes immediately found the Prince, who sat in one of the chairs reading a book, his head resting against his fist. You and the Knight walk towards him, and as you pull to unhook your harm, you feel him stretch his hand out to feel you for as long as possible before the contact breaks.

“Prince Korkie.” You curtsie, interrupting his reading. He looked up from the book and smiled, standing and bowing to kiss your hand once again.

“Your Highness, You look lovely.” After he compliments you, you turn to look at the guard, smiling.

“I hope you weren’t waiting for too long.” You as he takes your hand and guides you to sit on a sofa.

“Not at all.” He reassured, “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Vaughn, he will be chaperoning us today.” He gestured to a man sitting across from you.

“My pleasure, Princess.” He stood from his seat to bow.

“The library is beautiful, as is everything else in the palace.” You compliment.

“It’s less beautiful when it’s been your classroom growing up.” The Prince teased and you chuckle. “If you would like, please feel free to take any books at any time.” He nodded.

“Thank you, but I’ve never been very into reading.” You admit. “I much prefer music.”

“Ah yes, I play the viola, my mother taught me when I was a boy-“ Somehow he always made it about himself you noticed. You didn’t think he tried to, but conversations are rather boring when you’re just listening. He talked for nearly a half-hour about playing for the Queen of Naboo as a twelve year-old and being revered as a child prodigy for the early part of his life. You sat quietly as he bragged, telling the story to both you and the chaperone instead of keeping his focus on you. You even caught your mind wandering every now and then, glancing over to your knight to make a little face of boredom in an attempt to make him smile. You know you wouldn’t be able to see him if he had smiled, but the thought of it was enough to keep you occupied. After the Prince bragged about his viola skills for close to an hour, he finally asked what you played.

“Piano, actually. It’s my muse, if you will.” You smile, happy to have finally been included, although it was short lived. The prince then continued to talk about how the Queen could play piano but got sick of it after her sister died and hasn’t played in a very long time. He went on and on about it, and you were starting to wish you had picked up a book on your way in to pass the time.

“Allow me to show you to my favorite section of the library.” The Prince said, forcing you to snap out of your little trance as he held your hand out. You clearly hadn’t been listening for a while because you had no recollection of the previous situation, his voice was very tune-out-able. “I’ve asked the Chaperone and Knight to stay here while I do.” He smiled, and you take his hand, standing from the chair.

“Is that appropriate?” You ask.

“I’m the Prince, I can do what I want.” He shrugs and then proceeds to walk you towards a corner in the library. You look over your shoulder to the Knight one last time before you’re pulled around the corner. “This hall is where I would go when I was mad, isn’t it beautiful?” He asked.

“Yes, it is.” It had mostly desks and only a few bookshelves, but was covered in mirrors on both sides of the walls, showing an endless reflection of thousands of copies of yourself.

“I wanted to give you this, as an engagement present.” He held out a small box wrapped with a blue bow.

“Thank you…” You take the gift out of his hand.

“It was my mother’s.” He said as you untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful necklace of a sapphire stone with a gold halo.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You held up the necklace to your eyes, watching how it sparkled in the light.

“May I put it on you?” He asked. You nod and hand him the jewelry. Turning around and pulling your hair to the side, you feel him hook the necklace, letting the heavy gem sit against your collarbone. You looked down at it.

“It’s incredibly beautiful, Prince Korkie.” You turn around and smile.

“Please, just Korkie.” He said before forcing a kiss on you, pushing his lips into yours forcefully and holding you in place. It startled you, you hadn’t expected this from him, especially considering how kind he had been before. This was your first kiss and was less than pleasant. You push him off you, and look at him in disbelief. You didn’t want to offend him, but couldn’t mask the look of shock and beytrayal from your face. Your stomach filled with regret, it was customary to not kiss one another until your wedding day, why had he broken that tradition? You felt as though it was your fault he forced himself onto you, and you swallowed back the feeling of anger and distrust. If anyone found out you had kissed him before the wedding, they would all blame you, regardless of who initiated the kiss. You both knew this.

“Excuse me…” You huff passed him, returning to the main room of the library and walked towards the door, you heard your Knight follow you close after, and in a fit of confusion and flusterment, you storm as fast as you can towards your room.

When you two got to a more private part of the palace, closer to the suite, you heard him speak up, “Princess, princess what’s wrong?” You hear your knight say, and before you can ignore him, you feel him grab your hand. It isn’t forceful and it doesn’t hurt, but he’s strong, he wouldn’t be letting you go unless he had to. You turn around to show a tear running down your cheek. “What did he do?” The Guard asked. You swallow thickly and try to look away, darting your eyes behind him, “Look at me.” He said.

“I can’t see your eyes.” You sniffle.

“Please, did he hurt you?” He took a step closer to you, your bodies almost flush against one another.

“We can’t do this here-“

“Did he hurt you?” The knight repeats himself, sterner this time.

You look at his helmet and sigh, “No.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“It doesn’t concern you.” You were embarrassed, and pull your hand away before walking away, trying to get to your room before bursting into tears. You heard him pick up his pace to catch up and then suddenly he was cutting you off with his body, firmly grabbing your shoulders.

“As your Royal Guard, it does concern me. I told you just this morning that I promised to protect you, and now you’ve gotten hurt twice because of my mistakes.” He said, startling you just a bit. No one had ever spoken to you this way, no one had ever shown that they care this much.

“It’s not your fault, really.” You reassure.

“But it is. What did he do to you?”

“It’s… I’m embarrassed. It’s silly and I’ll-“

“Nothing you say could ever be ‘silly’ to me.” He said, his voice hushing as he did, giving you those little goosebumps again.

You sigh, looking up at him and trying to get out your next sentence, “He-he kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it and he broke tradition and it was all so… so forced.” You admit, feeling as though he would blame you for the kiss.

“He what?”

“You’re really going to make me repeat myself?” You scoff and push passed him, you were almost to your room, if you could make it just a little further-

“He kissed you?” The knight asked.

“Yes. I told you it’s ridiculous but-“

“It’s… not. Ridiculous, that is. It’s not ridiculous. Did he ask if he could?”

“No…” You reply, “I didn’t think he had to.” You raise an eyebrow. “I just wasn't expecting such a stark betrayal of tradition and it startled me and if anyone else find out, they’ll all blame me-“

“He has no right to lay a single finger on you without your permission. He hurt you, and therefore I’ve failed at my job.” He interrupted you.

“Oh-“ You mutter, finally arriving at your door. He had done that without your consent, he had hurt you. The knight was right all along and you were stupid to not accept his help right away. You wipe a tear away from your cheek and open the door. You take a step in, and hold the door open for him to join you. “I have over an hour before dinner… I’ll have to see him again.” You swallow before closing the door.

“I’ll be there by your side, I won’t leave you again. I won’t let him hurt you like that ever again, I promise.” He was firm and confident with his words, giving you a little wave of relief as he spake them.

“Thank you.” You whipser. You take a deep breath and look at him, “You said he can’t do anything without my permission?”

“Yes. That’s how you protect yourself. Don’t give him power he doesn’t deserve.” The Knight explains.

You exhale sharply, “I had never been kissed before.” You admit, looking down at the floor. “It wasn’t what I expected, to say the least.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t… kisses are special, sacred.” He sounded pained as he said them, like it was hard for him to get the words out.

“Have you kissed anyone?” You ask, considering he had a son, you assumed he had, but never really know unless you ask.

“Yes, once, a long time ago.”

“So you haven’t had that helmet on since birth?” You lighten the mood just a little. You hear him chuckle and your stomach is filled with warmth at the noise.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Can you ever take it off?” You ask, walking over to sit on your bed, listening intently, he takes a step in that direction, too.

“Yes, I take it off to eat and bathe and sleep and sometimes I take it off to talk to my son…” He sighs, “But at work, in the palace, in the eyes of other people, it stays on. Always.This is the way.”

“I still don’t understand why.” You tilt your head.

“It… protects us, it keeps our knighthood separate from our manhood, an it’s an ancient tradition practiced by Mandalorians, we do it to respect the culture.” He nods as he speaks.

“Hm, I half expected you to say it was just because you were ugly.” You giggle, and he shakes his head. This time, you knew he was smiling under all that metal.

“Compared to you, I am nothing.” You could hear his smile in his words. You blush and the butterflies in your stomach only grow. You pause for a moment, carefully considering what you were going to say next.

“Will you… will you kiss me?” You ask, looking up at him, he goes still.

“What?”

“Will you kiss me?” You repeat yourself. He doesn’t respond at first, and for a moment, you fear you’ve made a terrible mistake. You wanted him to, you wanted to know what he meant by “kisses are sacred”. He had plagued your mind ever since you first spoke to him and you already have far more affection in your heart for the Knight than for the Prince. You wanted to kiss him.

He sighs in response, and nods once, “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.” You blushed at his agreement.

“Okay.” You say, slowly closing your eyelids and patiently awaiting his next move, feeling triumphant that he agreed. Your body fills with adrenaline as you wait, trying to slow your heart rate with deep breaths.

“Promise to keep them closed?”

“I promise.” You whisper and a few seconds after, you hear the sound of metal hitting metal, and the hollow echo of his helmet being placed on the mattress by where you sit. It took everything in you not to open your eyes, you wanted to look at him, wanted to see his eyes. But you made a promise, you had made promises to each other and had to keep those promises.

Then, ever-so-gently, you feel his warm and forgiving lips against yours.

They’re soft and light, like he didn’t want to hurt you. You melted into his touch, and against your soft skin you felt his stubble run against it. It was rough in the most satisfying and loving sensation possible. He was much kinder than the Prince, so gentle, so true. It wasn’t a very long kiss, but it was more than a peck, and held more passion and intimacy in it than any of the hours you spent with your fiancé combined. He moved just slightly against you, and you felt his bare hand come up to hold your jaw in place as he deepened it for a split second before pulling away. As your lips parted from his, your breath was taken right with them, and you had to consciously remind yourself not to open your eyes.

“Keep them closed, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, trying to remember the feel of his kiss. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, and you wanted another, but before you could ask, you felt the helmet lift off the bed and the sound of gloves being pulled onto hands.

“Open.” He said after a moment, and your eyes fluttered open to see the knighted figure in front of you. “You’re welcome.”

Part three here

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punkpoemprose · 4 years ago

Text

A Convenient Arrangement Part 9

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating: T Length: 6514 Words A/N: It’s been a while, I probably still won’t be updating regularly because I’m busy, but here’s something for now. P.S. asks & comments are very much appreciated, nice comments make me feel like writing every time I get them, but please don’t ask when I’m going to update. I don’t have answers for you.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Kristoff felt uncomfortable to say the least. He was standing still while a stranger and his party of assistants measured him, held fabrics up toward him, and made comments on his physique both complimentary and, well, he couldn’t really say that the rest were meant to be kind. He wasn’t used to people who said things but didn’t say them straight, and while he was sure that “it’s like dressing a bull” wasn’t meant to be directly insulting, it also wasn’t quite a compliment either. He’d never been particularly ashamed of the way he looked, but he was being made certain from the commentary that he wasn’t built for whatever the “fashionable” silhouette was.

He wanted to walk away, to say that he’d wear his own clothes and to tell them exactly where they could shove their measuring tapes. He hadn’t exactly expected a “professional tailoring” to be a fun experience by any stretch of the imagination, but he also wasn’t prepared to be someone’s dressing doll. They hadn’t asked him his opinion on anything, and he wasn’t sure if that was a blessing, or whether it meant they were going to dress him like some kind of dandy who’d never spent a day of his life working.

“The yellow silk?”

He closed his eyes, just so he didn’t have to see whatever they were up to. Whatever it was involved tassels.

He could only distract himself by thinking of something else, by going inside himself and putting his mind to use imagining himself somewhere, anywhere else. He wondered how often he’d need to do such a thing, now that he was prince consort to the crown princess of Arendelle and soon to be some sort of aristocrat given lands and titles to justify his marriage. He couldn’t help but wish that he could just go back to the mountain and be away from all the new responsibilities his marriage to Anna had foisted upon him.

He had no objections to his duties to her, but to the court and the country, was another point entirely. He liked to think of himself as a good citizen of Arendelle. He paid his taxes, he worked hard, he tried his best to help his fellow man where and when he could, but he wasn’t built for pomp and circumstance. He wasn’t even built for suit fittings.

He let his thoughts drift away from the room, pushing all worries of brocade and buttons out of his mind, and landing himself back into memories of the early morning and being in bed with Anna. It was the easiest to imagine, the quickest way to relax.

He remembered waking up at first light with the gentle pressure of her body against his, the sheets tangled around them from their turning and shifting in the night. She’d fallen asleep on his chest, and when he woke, he’d been holding her there. Her hair had been partially in his face, fanned out across his chest and over his arm. While she had still been asleep, he’d carefully brushed it away from his face. While smoothing it under his hand, his heart raced over the intimacy of the action and the fear that she might wake up and tell him to stop.

He didn’t think that she would have asked him to, not when she so often was the one touching him first, reaching out for his hand, but after their conversation the night before he was worried. She didn’t trust him completely despite the strides they’d made, and despite the fact that she’d apparently vouched for him with her sister. He couldn’t blame her really, especially not after hearing all the ways in which her trust had been broken in the past.

Give her time. Give her love.

He could imagine his mother giving him the advice. He was far from a love expert himself and his family was a bit overzealous in their love and support, but he thought that maybe taking their advice and running it through his filter first might produce a kind of logic. Imagining what his mother might say about how he should treat his wife was probably a good place to start.

He’d give Anna all the time she needed. This was new for them both, but he was already believing that she might be his other half, that fate brought them together as mad as it sounded. So he knew that she was worth the wait. He already saw the little ways he was falling in love with her.

After he’d moved her hair, he’d enjoyed resting with her in his arms, feeling the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed with him. He’d felt her rouse, but didn’t say a word. He’d known that once they left bed, he was unlikely to see her for the rest of the day. Kai had him scheduled for several meetings and lessons and tours, and Anna, regardless of the promise made to them of no joint duties for a week, certainly had responsibilities of her own to attend to. He still didn’t know what they were, but he knew she must have some. Someday he would too.

He missed her already. He missed the rightness he felt while holding her close. He missed the way that she made him feel almost comfortable in the palace walls even while he was under the scrutiny of those who didn’t think he belonged.

He didn’t belong, of course. Being her husband gave him a reason to live in the castle, it gave him station, but it didn’t make him belong. Standing where he was now, walking through the hallways to get to the room without her by his side, constantly needing to check the little map she’d drawn for him, had made that abundantly clear. He wished he had it in him to announce to the room, to everyone who looked at him sideways, that he hadn’t asked for this, and that they could trade places with him if they preferred, but he couldn’t say it.

He couldn’t even offer a single breath to the idea that it would be anyone else at Anna’s side.

He may not be royal by anything but marriage but holding her made him feel like he was exactly where he needed to be.

He’d held onto her as long as he could in bed, not telling her that he was awake even though he knew that she was. He remembered her snort-laugh when he’d told her that he’d pretended to be asleep this time. He hadn’t said that he’d do it again to just hold her a little longer.

He remembered the way she’d nuzzled her face into his chest and murmured about breakfast without making any moves to leave him for a long while. They may have never moved, but of course a knock had eventually come, summoning them both from bed. They’d broken their fast together in relative quiet, the silence only broken by the sounds of silverware clinking, and he’d felt like he’d wanted to say something, catching her staring at him every now and then, but he didn’t have the words to say what he was feeling. He still wasn’t sure of what it was he had been feeling.

Domesticity? Comfort? Love?

None of the words fit. Not yet at least, though he’d like for them to be the right words someday.

Another knock had come and interrupted the quiet meal, and with the quick scurrying and whispering of an anxious looking maid, Anna had excused herself from the table. She’d given him a look that he registered as a sort of longing, he only knew it as such because she gave the same look to her bacon, and then she was gone.

A knock came again, this time in the present, pulling him from his recent memories abruptly.

“My Lord?”

It was Kai, and in a short a time as Kristoff had known the man, he had never been so grateful for his appearance as he was now. Which was saying something given he and Anna were thus far the only people who didn’t make him feel like a complete outsider.

He met the man’s eye and, reminded by his presence that he needed to at least feign manners, only gave him a somewhat subtle look of “save me”.

Blessedly Kai obliged.

“His lordship is needed elsewhere. Please collect your things so that we might have the room to discuss his next appointment for the day.”

The older man turned toward the tailor and his staff and with a look that clearly said “now” sent them all scrambling to pick up fabrics and tapes and bits of paper. When they dispersed, the heavy oak door closing behind them with a thud, Kristoff let his shoulders slump. The sigh that he let out was unintended, but hardly unwarranted.

He took a deep breath that was his first in what felt like hours.

“A bit much, weren’t they sir?”

Kristoff examined the old man, gazing at the scowl of distaste on his face, directed at the door. He knew that his status as his valet was a temporary one, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was exactly the sort of person he’d like in his corner in the long term.

“That’s an understatement.”

Kai gave a bit of a wry smile before recomposing himself and appearing more regretful than amused.

“His father was the royal tailor to the King, a very noble and understated older gentleman who listened more than he spoke. He made the most excellent suits.”

He looked down at his own jacket for a moment, adjusting the sleeve as if he were recalling a garment from an earlier time and in doing so, found his current attire not quite up to snuff. Kristoff had felt similarly in his wedding clothes, recalling the way he could only compare them to his more comfortable daily wear.

“The Queen and Princess have a dressmaker in their employ who is similarly talented and reserved,” Kai continued, bringing his attention back to Kristoff and meeting his eye with another apologetic gaze, “Unfortunately, on such short notice we relied on the assumption that the young tailor would be like his father in manner, which is clearly not the case. I apologize. Perhaps we can find someone else, but given the short notice…”

He knew that Kai was implying that they were out of options unless he had a better one. It felt strangely like a test in ways Kristoff couldn’t quite put his finger on, almost as if Kai were trying to determine something about him from the uncomfortable situation.

Kristoff didn’t take more than a moment of thought before interrupting, “There’s a tailor in the market I usually buy from, he does good work. He has my measurements already. His wife is pregnant, he could use the money.”

Kristoff didn’t expect Kai to grin. He was already mentally admonishing himself for interrupting, but the balding old gentleman simply nodded.

Whatever the test had been, he’d passed.

Maybe royals are meant to be contrary. I’ve always been good at that.

“Nilsson. I don’t know his first name. He’s got a market stall but does almost all the work out of his house by the docks. He’s got a slate out front, pretty easy to find if you’re looking for it.”

Kai pulled a paper and pencil from somewhere on his person and against his palm, quickly jotted the notes. Kristoff wondered if that level of efficiently was born or made. He’d always been proud of his own ever evolving competence in his work, but he never thought that he’d be ready for anything in the way Kai seemed to be.

“I’ll see that he is made aware of your lordship’s request and that he understands the quality required. Are there any specific requests you have for fabric or color?”

Kristoff looked from the man to the door and back again.

“No yellow silk.”

***

Anna wasn’t wholly certain as to why she was feeling so nervous. She’d sent Kai after Kristoff only a few minutes before, evidently interrupting his whole schedule though he hadn’t said anything about it. Anna just knew the man well enough that when she saw him pull a pencil and a folded paper from his pocket that he was rearranging a schedule. She remembered him crossing off sections of the page like he had for her father before.

No matter how much everything changes, some things stay the same.

She couldn’t help but wonder if he was enjoying assisting Kristoff. Soon enough he’d be Elsa’s personal counsel again, but Anna liked to think that he was enjoying the sort of daily trials and tribulations that were coming with helping her husband.

She’d been too high strung after her meeting with Elsa to be much use in focusing on anything let alone tracking someone down, but now it was at least a little bit relaxing to move her thoughts people instead of the stress of upcoming responsibilities.

When Elsa had sent a maid to fetch her in the middle of breakfast she had, of course, been up for hours and as such had already eaten. Anna suspected that her sister never actually slept and that it was the answer for why she was always up and ready for the day at the crack of dawn.

She hadn’t been more than half awake when she was taken from her bacon and from Kristoff’s quiet company. She’d been promised a week by her sister, one week of no duties, but that wasn’t exactly true. It had been more like one week with no scheduled duties, just meetings when the occasion arose, as it had in the middle of breakfast.

“Anna,” her sister had said, looking a bit tired which reminded Anna that her sister was indeed human after all, “I’m planning a party.”

That had been all that was required to shock Anna into full consciousness.

She may as well be running off to join the circus for how like her that is.

“You didn’t get an engagement party and we want the citizens to be able to celebrate the wedding, so the council requested that I announce a festival in your honors.”

That had made more sense, but now, standing alone in the library, trying to distract herself by staring at the shelves upon shelves of books before her, she wondered why exactly a party was needed at all. She appreciated her sister’s interest in her input about the colors and the food and the events, and she knew that it was meant to be an apology of sorts for the fact that she’d had no control over her wedding, but Anna also wasn’t ready for another big event.

She’d only promised Kristoff a week without duties, and they were now getting a full month. Somehow it didn’t seem to be a balm in her mind. She hated the idea that they would soon need to be a public spectacle, that they would be watched and commented on. She hated the thought of watching Kristoff shrink away like he had in the kitchens, that he might think again that he didn’t belong when all she wanted was for him to feel right when he was at her side.

She could hear the talk of the town in her ear, not truly there, but just as real in her head as if there was some chatty merchant’s daughter at her back.

They had to steal him from the mountains to marry her, who wants used goods?

To her right she could hear her giggling friend.

So sad, isn’t it? Poor man.

To her left, not in her imagination, but in reality, was a cold and empty hearth with a settee between her and it. Her hands shook at her sides as she tried to focus on anything but the creeping sensation of frost in her chest that she knew was only in her head.

Why did I choose the library? Of all places, why did I decide to tell him about the festival in the library.

She clenched her fists, closed her eyes and breathed.

The girls slipped away, the empty fireplace remained out of sight, but as she focused on her inhalation the icy sensation left. She smelled parchment and dust, felt the warmth of light streaming in from the nearby window, and let herself remember years of pulling books from the shelves written in various languages and staring at pictures before she could read them herself. The memories of her youngest days came clearer now that she was free to recall them.

I loved it here once.

She felt him enter her space.

Despite the bulk of him she hadn’t heard him approach, but she could feel the tension in her body release when he surreptitiously slid into the space at her left side, putting more space between her and the fireplace, bumping his hand into hers casually.

She experimentally opened her palm, slowly uncurling her fingers, and felt the last of the unease roll out of her muscles when he slipped his hand over hers, palm to palm. He wasn’t holding her hand, his fingers barely brushing hers, but she found it comforting.

She could hardly call herself knowledgeable about affection, but she was learning that this was Kristoff’s way of showing it. They hadn’t said anything about love. It didn’t make sense to yet, they were intimate strangers, they were a paradox, but where he couldn’t say love he showed it.

She wondered when she’d be able to show him in return. It had been so easy to pretend the night before. She wanted to be able to open up to him more, but every time she wanted to the what ifs got in the way.

You need to stop doubting yourself.

But a lack of self-doubt, her reckless willingness to believe in the best of people and that she deserved a happy ending had almost ruined everything once. She was afraid it risk it again.

“Want me to come back in a bit?”

His voice was low, soft. He could already read her so well, but he was still working out how to react to her feelings. She wondered how he could be so understanding of her needs after spending so many years alone. She had a hard enough time understanding how she felt lately let alone comprehending how others did. Even as empathetic as she was, she felt like she was always missing the cues that he was seemingly catching without a second glance.

She slipped her fingers between his, moving slowly and focusing on the secure feeling it gave her to have his hand locked against hers by the connection.

“No, I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

She opened her eyes and saw the concern in his gaze when she met his eye. It made her feel simultaneously guilty and vindicated, like his understanding that there was something wrong justified her feelings. She did feel bad for making him worry about her though. She didn’t want him to go anywhere just because she was battling with herself.

After a few moments of quiet, he spoke, “Kai filled me in on the way over. A festival?”

She sighed and nodded, glad that she wasn’t the first to tell him about it. She wasn’t sure that she’d be able to express the positives about such a thing when she was already so focused on the negatives.

He didn’t look particularly upset about the event, which surprised her. She recalled how he’d been in front of the crowd at their wedding, stiff and uncomfortable. She didn’t really want to put him in that situation again, but he didn’t seem to share the same opinion.

“Yes. There was a council decision that we should do something for the people at large because most of them couldn’t attend the wedding. They’re curious about us.”

Kristoff nodded. He seemed relaxed and at least accepting if not a bit interested about the matter.

“It makes sense. It’s been a long time since there’s been a real festival. Most times someone will put on something for the holidays, but the big festivals haven’t gone on in years. I can only just barely remember what they were like when I was a kid.”

That’s because they died with my parents.

It felt strange to think of it, that there hadn’t been festivals in years. Even before her parents had passed away, the events had been a shadow of what they were when she was young. She wished she had a better memory of them now, how the festivals used to be, how her parents used to greet the people and dance. It was mostly a blank, interjected with what she’d been told about sweets and dancing and music by others. She supposed it was normal to not remember much from her toddler years, but she longed to know what it would be like, if only to know what to be prepared for.

Kristoff would remember a little more than she would, but he wasn’t that much older than her really. She wondered if the trolls had their own festivals and celebrations and whether he’d tell her about them if she asked.

It was still strange for her to think about sometimes. That her husband was raised by the very trolls that had locked away her memories, that under different circumstances they may have met as children and that it could have changed everything if she had.

She didn’t know what it would have done in the long run. She didn’t know if they’d have been happier if their stories had played out differently, but as he held her hand, she knew that she wouldn’t want to turn back the clock even if she could. As messed up as everything was, she wasn’t alone, and his willingness to stand there with her, to try for her, was more than she’d ever had with anyone.

“Is it what you want?” he asked, seeming to take her dour expression as an indication that she didn’t want the party.

All I wanted for years was a celebration, people, music, and dancing. I wanted any of it. I wanted all of it.

“I… they didn’t ask…”

She shook her head for a moment, then looked at him apologetically, squeezing his hand a bit when she saw the furrow of his brow and the downturn of his mouth. She felt like she shouldn’t be worrying him, but she also liked that he seemed concerned. It was nice to know that someone cared whether she wanted something instead of just assuming.

“What I mean to say is, it doesn’t really matter if I want it or not, but I think I do. My sister was really excited to give us this because our wedding wasn’t…” she trailed off, knowing that he understood.

“She wants it to be a big thing for us even though she doesn’t even like big events. It’s sweet and I think it will really improve public perception of the crown, but I just don’t want it to be overwhelming for you. I imagine there will be a lot of eyes on us.”

His expression softened then. There was an understanding in his eyes and something else there that made her feel warm.

“As long as I don’t have to wear a suit like they crammed me in at the wedding I’ll be fine. Let them look, my eyes will be on you.”

She felt herself flushing bright red, and she was certain she was outshining her hair.

He said things like that in such a matter-of-fact tone that it was proving to consistently catch her off guard. There was no art to the way he said the words, no intent to woo or win her over. It was just the truth in his mind. She’d have his attention, even if all eyes were on him.

She needed to change the subject, averting her gaze from the intensity with which he was meeting her eye. She wondered if being with him would always be like this, butterflies in her stomach and the sensation of being wanted overwhelming her thoughts and senses. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be happy again if it was just temporary, a “honeymoon phase”, but there was a small hopeful part of her that said that as they got to know each other his affections wouldn’t wane or remain stagnant but instead that they would grow.

How wonderful it would be to be loved. How wonderful it would be to love.

She’d never felt anything so gratifying as being at his side, knowing that he wasn’t going anywhere.

She was trying to tame her flush with a deep inhalation and exhalation, feeling his eyes on her and imagining the smile on his face that she couldn’t bring herself to look at.

“So, how was your meeting with the tailor?”

He made a pained sound, almost like a man dying.

She, for her part, let out a snort, sending them both into laughter.

It felt good to laugh in the room. It was like they were sweeping the cold from the corners.

I could love it here again.

***

Somewhere in the back of his mind Kristoff knew that he was entirely throwing off Kai’s plans for the day. The suit fitting had been just the first in a long list of tasks that had been set for the day. He was supposed to learn about peerage and how to greet royals, and about a thousand other bits and pieces of manners that Kai had decided he needed to learn as soon as possible.

Kristoff appreciated his assistance, and he did feel vaguely guilty for requesting the help and then being unavailable to actually receive it, but how could he go learn about salad forks and posture when Anna was pouring him a cup of tea and asking him excitedly what he remembered about festivals when he was young.

“I was so little when they stopped. I know now that we did need to close the gates for Elsa, but I just feel like we missed out on so much and that the people would have understood if they were just told… I mean…”

He listened intently to the way she described childhood years in the castle, not knowing why the gates were closed and not knowing why her sister never wanted to see her. It made him sad to think about when he’d never felt pushed away by his own family.

“So, do you remember what the food was like? I know you were only eight, but was there chocolates?”

He smiled, unable to help himself when she was so ecstatic about the possibility of him recalling anything at all about the only festival he remembered before the castle gates closed. It had been the summer solstice festival, before he ran away from the orphanage. He recalled it somewhat if only because it was one of the few bright spots he’d had before meeting Sven and then the trolls.

“I think there was. There were a lot of little cakes and things. We each got to have one and then we got to play a game, but I don’t remember what it was. Something with stones and chalk lines. I mostly remember watching the women dance. They had these bright ribbons in their hair and they were skipping around the maypole so everything was just fluttering and colorful. I kept wondering if one of them was my mom, and if maybe I stood close enough to the front of the crowd…”

He trailed off, then started again, “Anyway, I think some of the cakes had chocolate in them but mine didn’t. Mine had custard and I think it was the first time I had it because I remember being surprised by it.”

She had been writing down little things here and there in pretty script on a piece of paper. The things she wanted for the festival, the things he mentioned. He noticed that she’d stopped though.

“You were looking for your mom?”

He sighed, kicking himself a bit for bringing it up as he described the memory. He shouldn’t have said anything about it.

“I didn’t know what had happened back then… so I just assumed she lived in Arendelle and had misplaced me and that once she saw me she’d take me from the orphanage and I’d live with her. I didn’t even know what she looked like… I still don’t.”

He felt the silence grow around them, an uneasy sort of taunt energy that he hadn’t experienced since their wedding night, when she’d assumed and he’d not been sure what to say.

There’s going to be more of this. It’s not going to be easy all the time.

“You can ask.”

He looked at her then, saw the way her eyes were on the floor, anywhere but on him. He understood in a way. It was awkward to ask. Few people ever had except when he’d been very young. The answer had to be sad. Court order or death or abandonment were the popular choices, otherwise. There was never another reason for a child to be without his mother.

“What happened to her?”

He shrugged.

“I don’t have all the details. I thought for a long time that I’d just gotten lost or something, but not too long after the festival I found out that she had died in childbirth. That was the day I left the orphanage. She was Sami. I guess my dad was from Arendelle, a harvester who died not long before I was born. He didn’t have any family, hers was too far away to contact or find I suppose. It doesn’t matter now anyway; I had a good childhood.”

Anna was quiet at his side. She was looking down at her hands now, they were folded in her lap awkwardly and really he wanted to reach out and hold them.

What’s stopping you?

He moved slowly, slipping a hand into her line of sight before covering her hands with it. Normally he waited for her to make the first move anytime they touched, but he was realizing that she was the sort of person who liked physical contact when she was upset or nervous, and he could provide that for her. He’d gladly give her all the gentle touches in the world if it meant she’d feel safe.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “losing your parents is hard.”

She would know.

He pressed against her hands gently and when she responded by turning her hand and lacing her fingers through his, he felt her relax a bit.

“I didn’t really know them. I was in the orphanage from the time I was born until I was eight. I started working with the harvesters for a while and then I found my family. You know I found them by following you, right?”

He couldn’t remember if he’d already told her that. If she knew that she was the reason he’d found his family.

“I know that the idea that all of this was destined to happen is kind of… strange to wrap your head around if you weren’t raised the way I was,” he said, “but it brings me some comfort to know that even the bad things that have happened might have some good come from them in the end.”

She was quiet for a little while, but when she squeezed his hand he understood that it meant she was okay.

“Did the trolls have festivals,” she asked after a little while.

He grinned.

“About a thousand.”

***

He described it all to her in vivid detail. She’d never heard Kristoff really tell a story before, but when he described the ceremonies and events that the trolls had every year, celebrating the seasons and weddings and births, it was magical. She could imagine herself there, watching it all.

“And when you turn eighteen… or well it was eighteen for me because humans have a shorter lifespan, but anyway, when you come of age there’s a big birthday party for you. Normally birthdays aren’t a big deal because the trolls have thousands of them, but this one is.”

She nodded, rapt with attention, her tea going cold along with his on the side table.

“So my parents both presented me to the family, like they had when they adopted me. You would have laughed if you saw how they dressed me, I had a cape made out of moss and a crown of twigs because that’s the tradition and let me tell you it looks better on the trolls than it did on me. But then everyone came forward and said something about me, even the kids and Sven which is exactly as comical as you’re probably imagining it in your head.”

“What sort of things did they say?”

She didn’t mean to interrupt, but she was genuinely curious.

He smiled and shook his head, looking a bit bashful, “The sort of stuff they show you every day, but don’t say out loud.”

She thought she could imagine.

I’ve been thinking that you’re kind since I met you, but I don’t say it.

I’ve been trying to show you I care about you, but the words don’t come.

“Then everyone sits together in a giant circle and eats dinner. My mother sang a song with my sisters and aunts and… well, someday when you’re comfortable, you’ll have to hear them sing. I know I’m biased, but it’s beautiful.”

Anna couldn’t help but feel a little wistful at the idea of it. She’d loved music as a child. She remembered fondly the days she and her mother would sit in front of the fire and sing folksongs together. She remembered the days her father’s tenor would add to the mix and even more far off, she could recall her sister’s voice mingling in the sound as well.

She wondered if maybe she’d sing to her own children someday, and then with a flush, wondered what her husband sounded like when he sang.

“I’d like that… then what happened?”

He laughed warmly at her enthusiasm.

“Then they gave me my crystals. I earned some when I was young… you earn them as you learn and grow, they’re…” he trailed off for a moment, thinking.

“They’re connected to the magic in the world. It probably sounds strange, but given what Elsa can do I’m sure you can understand. It’s strange, but the trolls can feel the magic all around them, it’s in their blood, and the crystals can help them in feeling it more strongly and in shaping it. I don’t have that connection, but the crystals are part of the culture so they gave them to me. Sometimes when I’m lucky and the energy is there I can get them to react the way they should. The trolls can use them to start fires and change the direction of streams and… it’s amazing. Mostly I can just get them to glow sometimes.”

Anna felt a small thrill in the pit of her stomach that she wasn’t sure whether she should tamp down or not.

Because she’d seen his crystals. She’d touched them because he’d given her license to snoop through his things. She had still felt a little bad about the snooping though. She wondered if he’d be annoyed if she mentioned it.

She tried to read him. His body was relaxed at her side, his smile soft and his brown eyes were gazing upon her face with a warmth that made her feel like they’d known each other for months or years instead of a week.

It’s worth the risk. It’s worth it to open up to him. Has he hurt you for trying yet?

“I made the pink one glow,” she blurted, unable to help herself.

His brow furrowed, then he looked thoughtful.

“I’m sorry,” she added, not sure how to take his reaction, “I probably shouldn’t have snooped, but when we were at your cabin you told me I could look at your things while you were gone and I thought they were pretty and…”

She didn’t have anything else to say for herself. She held her breath, hoping that he wasn’t upset with her, hoping that at any moment he’d be amused by the fact that she was able to get one to glow without even knowing about them or their meaning.

“Pink?”

He asked it so quietly she almost didn’t realize he was asking her a question.

“Pink,” she answered, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice as she said it.

The confusion left his face, and when he met her eye again there was an intensity there that Anna couldn’t understand. His eyes held her gaze for a moment, before quickly, almost so rapidly that she wouldn’t have noticed, shifting to her lips and back again.

She hadn’t noticed how close they’d gotten on the settee, but now with him leaning even further into her space, she could feel his breath, she could see the stubble barely peeking up on his cheek, she could see him lick his lips.

She swallowed, then parted her own.

It would be so simple.

She’d only have to lean forward, just a little.

She could feel her heart racing in her chest. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and then she felt him draw closer.

This is it.

She remembered the kiss they’d shared at their wedding, she remembered how it felt when he’d pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Those had been chaste, one necessary for ceremony, the other to soothe, but a kiss now… it would mean something.

She tried not to feel disappointed when it never came, when instead his hand slipped from hers and went to her waist, when his forehead tipped against hers.

It’s too soon.

He wants to, but it’s too soon.

She tried to understand. Logically she knew it was true, and even the pain she’d suffered from another almost kiss in this place couldn’t challenge the warmth of his touch and the gentle way he spoke next.

“That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”

She felt an ache in her chest, almost as pleasant as it was new.

It means something.

She’d almost known it when she’d touched the gem, but now the confirmation in his words, the weight to them and the intimacy of their foreheads together, left her no room for doubt.

He pulled her into an embrace, their foreheads parting but his arms wrapping around her comfortingly, leaving her head to rest against his shoulder.

She almost opened her mouth to ask him what it meant, but then she closed it, letting herself have this moment with him.

I trust him.

He’ll tell me in his own time.

#A Convenient Arrangement #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #arranged marriage AU

89 notes · View notes

saphirered · 3 years ago

Note

Hai I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do more verin x reader, like how would he react after finding out about essek, and he searched for him then he met the m9 and reader ?

Hope this turned out the way you wanted it! 😘

After the disappearance of his brother, Verin could simply not let it go. The Shadowhand disappeared from Exandria’s surface overnight without a word of warning. No traces left. No signs of a struggle that may indicate his enemies having gotten to him. Why would Essek leave everything behind willingly? Everything he gave his life for in service of the Bright Queen and the Kryn Dynasty? There had been suspicions about a traitor amidst the Bright Queen’s court but Verin simply refused to believe that to be Essek. His brother would never… Would he?

Verin, much like his brother is resourceful and shares a similar determination to reach a goal by any means necessary. That goal right now; finding Essek. Verin’s unsure what he will do once he finds his brother. There’s so many questions… But what if the rumours are true? No. He can’t think like that just yet. He will not tarnish that reputation through speculations. He needs answers first. He needs to find Essek.

Months of searching, following whatever traces he could find. Verin had to look to the past any ties before Essek’s disappearance. That lead to a group of strangers. A colourful bunch of chaotic individuals seemingly defying all odds when faced with them. Verin may not be able to track Essek but he could try and find these people… The Mighty Nein.

————

Heavy bag over one shoulder dressed in fine clothes you stroll through low-lit halls flanked by two guards. Radiating a sense of authority and sternness you stop in front the metal bars, on the other side a redhead leaning back against the wall looking up at you innocently without a single worry.

“Master Widogast, I’ve been told you’re here on suspicions of corrupting the minds of your students. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” You address your friend. This never ends. Caleb gets himself arrested because someone finds out what he’s allegedly been teaching at the Academy. He’s dragged off to a holding cell and your disturbed amidst your work day to get him out again. This time you’ve made him wait though. You had an important meeting you couldn’t get out.

“It’s all just a mistake. You’ll find my students can vouch for me and prove this misunderstanding to be nothing more than part of the curriculum of theoretical transmutation.” You dig through your bag, take out a scroll and hand it to one of the guards. The guards reads it over awaiting your command.

“Well, hurry up! Release this man before I have you written up for unlawfully keeping one of the Soltryce Academy’s most beloved teachers.” The guard quickly jumbles with the keys and the barred door is unlocked. Caleb gets up and you step aside to allow him to exit. The guards wait, not entirely sure what to do next. What did you expect of newbies…

“Are you really going to stand around loitering? Back to work.” The guards scurry off and you and Caleb walk next to each other exiting the building and into the streets. Once you’re both in the clear you drop your more rigid behaviour and punch the wizard in the shoulder.

“What was that for?” He exclaims rubbing his arm. That’s gonna bruise.

“The only reason I took this job is to get you and the others out of trouble when you inevitably got yourself in a mess again but between Beau’s bar fights and your borderline treason, I swear you’ll be the ones that will lose me my job.” You’re only half serious. You can’t count the times you’ve had to bail the Nein out for their antics and have definitely been abusing your newfound power to do so. The king might be an asshole but at least the pay is good and the benefits better.

Reaching your destination, wizard at your side discussing who might have spilled the beans on Caleb’s rather liberal teachings you open the low fence to the garden. In the garden you’re met with the familiar disguise of your friend Essek, sunhat to guard him from the harsh sunlight, gardening gloves on harvesting some vegetables. Upon seeing you he grabs the basket next to him and joins the two of you with a smile.

“While I’d hoped this wouldn’t become a habit, thank you, for getting Caleb out trouble, again. Your endless efforts are certainly appreciated. We are in your debt many times over.” The disguised drow sends the redhead a loving glance as he addresses you.

“And don’t you forget it. One day I might come and collect.” You grin at Essek with the pleasure of turning his own words against him. Of course you didn’t mean them. They’re your friends and you’ll never seriously ask for anything in return for anything they ask of you.

“Clever.” Essek speaks sarcastically smiling at your comment.

“But if you feel inclined to repay me for my hard work, you can make sure you’re both on time for dinner tonight. The gang’s getting back together and you’re expected.” Essek hands you the basket he’s carrying providing you with the resources of a home cooked meal for the gathering of the evening. It’s been a while since everyone’s been at the same place the same time.

“I’ll do what I can but I make no promises.”

“All, I can ask for.” You turn your attention to Caleb. “That reminds me.” A quick inconspicuous motion of your hands allows you to summon a small stack of papers. Another perk of your job; getting information the higher ups want to keep to themselves. Luckily a lot of them have assistants that are much easier to get that information from.

“Beau and you can get back to work. But not tonight! Tonight’s work free, for all of us.” Caleb quickly leafs through the ledgers you’ve handed him.

“You know, if you ever grow bored of the court life, you can always join me in teaching free thinking and magic at the Academy…” Caleb jokes as you pick up the basket ready to leave the wizards to the rest of their day.

“And who’s gone bail us both out then?” You laugh over your shoulder closing the fence behind you. Back to your home and prepare for the evening. You can’t help but feel like you’re being followed. You pay close attention to the shadows and for just a moment you’re sure you see something, or rather someone. Choosing not to pursue you continue on to your home. It’s not like your place of residence is a secret to anyone.

————

The house is noisy, happy chatting and laughter fills the dining room. How you’ve missed this. The table has been set, plates, cutlery and all, a multitude of decanters and bottles ready and filled, and plates and platers filled with food are added one by one. There’s something for everyone, everyone’s favourites.

“Yasha, can you take the cupcakes out of the oven for me?” You ask the barbarian wearing her floral embroidered apron stirring a pan on the stove as you plate the smoked pork. Yasha plates the baked goods by flavour and carries the tray to the dining room as you follow behind with your platter. Cheers erupt from the rest of the Nein as you and Yasha place the final dishes on the table. Everyone takes their seats and digs in pouring themselves drinks, taking whatever they desired, happily conversing about what everyone’s been up to in the past few months, talking about new plans for the future and the nostalgic adventures of the past together. You’ll have to get back to that some day. Maybe soon?

Despite the happiness of the whole event you still can’t get over this feeling you’re being watched. It’s not scrying, your home is protected from it and you feel safe to assume it’s not anyone from the Assembly or the king’s council. So who is it?

————

Verin watches the group as they enjoy their feast, his brother among them. He looks happy and content, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. Is this what he left Xhorhas for? He always wanted more, so how could Essek be content with a normal life? No matter the motives he’s loved, they’re his friends, something he never truly had before.

Then talks about the beacons came up. Mentions of the past missing ones and newfound ones. Aeor and its connection to Dunamis long before the Dynasty. The theoretics and potential of the beacons and the continued pursuit of studying them. Within the Dynasty this could be considered sacrilegious. And it made it look more and more Essek was guilt of the treason others suspected him of. His brother was a traitor and a disgrace in the eyes of the Dynasty and his family.

So why does Verin feel like none of that matters? He should be angry. He should dispose of his brother right here, right now in the name of the Bright Queen. But he can’t bring himself to it. His brother is happy, fought free from the expectations of others and the demanded unwavering loyalty to the Luxon and the Dynasty. Essek did exactly what he couldn’t.

————

You excuse yourself from the table making an excuse about checking on dessert and retreating to the kitchen alone. This feeling of being watched was getting on your nerves but tonight should be one without trouble and conflict. You’ll figure out if this watcher in the shadows poses a danger to you and your friends, if so you’ll dispose of them. If it can be postponed until tomorrow, then tomorrow you’ll deal with it but not tonight. Tonight is about peace, friends and family getting back together.

So when you reach the kitchen you open the window taking out the lattice work pies and cakes you’d made and left to rest and cool down before the Nein’s arrival. You get the batter you made and begin making some waffles. While you wait for them to be done you hum to yourself and sit in the open windowsill looking out over the city, inconspicuously looking around for your uninvited guest. The first batch is done and they haven’t showed up yet. Alright, you’ll make a second batch and some extra whipped cream while you’re at it.

Then you catch a glimpse of a shadow. You can’t make out all the details but the attire and a flash of pristine white hair leaves you to think it’s a drow. Thinking on your feet you cast hold person but the drow remains unaffected. Before you know it you’re pushed a few steps back into your kitchen. Supporting himself on the windowsill he holds a finely made blade to your throat. You lift your hands in surrender showing you have no ill intend…yet and are willing to talk and listen.

“My quarrel is not with you but one wrong move and I will not hesitate, mage.” The drow threatens you. You don’t doubt his words but this isn’t your first rodeo. If he tries anything he’s in for a fight. Getting a closer look you study the man’s features. There’s a sense of familiarity and you’re quick to conclude he must be related to Essek in some way. Broader build and longer hair but same features and eyes. He’s probably a fair bit taller too standing up straight instead of crouched in a windowsill.

“Perhaps not but it might be if you do not get out of my windowsill in the next few seconds.”

“Is that a threat?” He pushes the blade a little closer and you feel the cold steel against your skin, one move and it cuts.

“No. But take a look outside. You’ll see the torchlight of the guard patrol. Get inside.” A quick glance over his shoulder gives you the chance to take a step back from the drow and pick up your whipped cream and continue whisking before it loses its structure. He jumps inside and away from the window as you whisk completely indifferent to the fact a stranger just held a sword to your neck and entered your home even with your invitation.

“You must be Verin Thelyss.” You state putting the now finished whipped cream in the ice box. Verin stands there wary of you, expecting you to make a move and attack him at any second but you’re not and even from your demeanour he can gather you have no ill intent towards him. Not at all what he expected, but then again he didn’t expect to find his brother in the capital of the enemy nation of the Dynasty having dinner with a bunch of (previous) adventurers, some of which holding ranks within the Empire no less.

“You’re questioning my motives and calmness.” You lean against the counter crossing your arms. Verin lowers the blade but you’re unsure if it is because of defeat or he doesn’t see the purpose in holding you at sword point any longer.

“Why not just let me be caught by your guards? Why invite me inside your home?” Verin watches your every move, every twitch. You can see the same confusion and uncertainty and panic you’ve seen in Essek many times before so you offer a soft smile. Best you can do for him right now is stay calm, don’t make any uncertain moves and approach him with gentleness. You’re sure with how long you’ve been feeling like being watched today he’s been the one responsible and he’d have caught onto your conversations from the shadows.

“Call it a leap of faith. I trust Essek. He trusts you. You’ve done nothing to prove you have any ill will towards my friends so until you prove me otherwise you’ll be welcome.” You move slowly grabbing two knives. Putting one on the counter and sliding it over a little away from you until it touches one of the pie dishes.

“You’re good with a blade right? You can help me cut these pies and cakes and we can talk.” You gesture to the kitchen knife. Verin looks at you as if you’ve gone insane. Maybe you have but it’s more likely you’ve faced much worse than the likes of him. You move your own knife and he watches you as you begin dividing the cake in even slices.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t.”

“Then why should I listen to you?”

“Because you’re still standing here in my kitchen.” You laugh plating the slices of cake on another silver platter neatly.

“Verin, if you came here to kill your brother you would have tried so this afternoon. That you haven’t only shows you’re not here for that. You have questions. You want answers. Now I’m not just going to let you walk into my dining room until I’m certain that the information you got and the questions I answer will not lead you to violence. So you help me get dessert ready. If you prove your intensions for your brother and my friends are honourable you can join us for dessert. If you prove a danger to them, I will allow you to leave this place tonight but should you ever return I will be the least of your worries.” Verin takes the knife and tests the grip as if it’s a dagger as he looks at the apple pie in front of him. He stabs the knife down carefully and cuts downward repeating evenly spaced out. You wait for him to talk not feeling like you should initiate conversation just yet.

“The one who stole the beacons and handed them over to the traitor mages of your Empire, it was my brother’s doing.” More of a statement than a question you nod. Diving straight into the deep end, aren’t we? No matter, better rip the bandage off quickly.

“It hit us hard as well. Though, I can’t say it was surprise.” You’re not sure how to place what you read from Verin. Pity? Disappointment? And a good bit of acceptance thrown in the mix.

There truly was a sense of acceptance because no matter how much he might want to deny it, just like you said, there had already been that underlying suspicion it was Essek given his aspirations. It’s one of those things that leaves you hoping something isn’t true and you wilfully suppress the possibility until there’s no other way around it and you’re faced with the truth. If what you said is true and what he gathers from your conversation with the Nein and you now, you found out in the moment. He’s only learning about this in the aftermath.

Essek lied to your faces, pretended to be your ally to cover for himself and yet you still found it within yourselves to forgive or at the very least accept everything he had done so maybe, just maybe he could try to do the same. Still he has many more questions but he’s unsure if you can answer all of them.

“I won’t ask you to forgive and I certainly won’t ask you to forget, but I will ask you to give your brother a chance. In his time with us he’s truly been trying to make up for his mistakes and repent for his sins and while they may not all be washed away in his lifetime, it’s a start. He’s just as much of a misguided tool, as most of us, promised an a glimpse of power by forces bigger than him and without a way out when he realised the gravity of his actions and the consequences.” You finish up the last pie and put the knife to the side. Verin hangs onto your every word.

“When we were about to walk into certain death gathering what we could, he told us that if something were to happen to him, we should come find you because despite everything, you were one of the only people he felt he could trust.”

“Then why didn’t he trust me with this? Why depart without a word?”

“Because burdening you with that information would put you in the same place he put himself in. He came here, to a place he knew you couldn’t follow. He left a place he would endanger everyone he cares about because he knows you, just like the rest of us would fight the entirety of the Dynasty just to keep him safe.” You’re right. Verin know you’re right because he would have stood with his brother in the end despite what crimes he had committed. Essek was not the master of this grand scheme but he played his part. He’d spend his life making up for it but at least he will work towards making this world a better place. Verin can only aspire to do that very thing; protect the people he cares about and make this world a better place.

“I still have many questions.” Verin breathes. It’s a lot to process and that’s okay. This is just the start but it is the most difficult part. You grab the plates and platters balancing them on your arms.

“Maybe you should ask him yourself. Why don’t you join us for dessert, Verin?” He doesn’t know how to respond. While you told him you’d let him join, he didn’t expect it to be now or with so little certainty on your end, but maybe you knew more than you let on. Without a verbal response Verin grabs the remaining dishes from the counter and waits for you to lead the way.

Entering the dining room Beau and Veth are in the middle of a drinking contest each with their own decanters of wine. Veth slams down the now empty decanter.

“Momma’s still got it children!” Veth exclaims cheering as Beau sits back disappointed, two more gulps and she’d have won. Yasha comes in telling her she’ll win next time. Fjord passes over a hand full of coins to Jester who calls him a loser poking his cheek giggling. Kingsley is on the verge of challenging Veth to a drinking contest of their own and Essek carefully manages to grab a bottle to refill his and Caleb’s glasses before this goes south. Caduceus is watching the chaos unfold deliberating wether or not he should get some hangover tea ready because they will need it if this keeps going.

When you enter, the cheers for dessert fall quiet quickly seeing the drow behind you carrying several pies. Essek freezes up and Caleb naturally takes a bit of a defensive position without breaking the dinner setting. Verin albeit awkwardly steps out next to you as you helping you put the plates on the table. With a wave of your hand you call over another chair to be put at the head of the table. You gesture for the man to sit and he does debating wether or not this was the right decision as all eyes fall on him. You take your own seat.

“Well, come on guys, dig in!” Not needing to be asked twice they do, some wary of Verin but you know they’ll ease up soon enough.

“So you’re Essek’s brother? He didn’t say you’re a hot boi too. Jeeze Essek, is everyone in your family pretty?” Jester asks stuffing her mouth with a piece of cake. Verin is taken aback by the blue tiefling’s comment and the identical faces he and Essek make are enough to send most of the table in a giggle fit. You cover your own response to this for your own sake.

“Eh-Thank you? I think? Though, if my company is undesired I can leave…” Verin suggests unsure how to further approach this doubting this is the right place for this.

“Nonsense. If our friend invited you to join, for whatever reason, you’re welcome.” Fjord assures. He knows you wouldn’t just allow this without a reason and just by the attitude of the guy, he gets a pretty good estimate there’s no malicious intent in Verin right now.

“Yeah and while you’re here you can tell us about all the embarrassing shit Essek did when he was a kid.” Beau punches Essek’s shoulder past Caleb who’s quick to get out of the monk’s way. Essek rubs the spot she hit teeth clenched but smiling nonetheless.

“So, Verin, what are your intentions here?” Caleb asks an open question hoping to get more insight in the drow’s motives. While he trusts your judgement one can never be too certain and he’d rather not be face to face with Essek’s brother on their way home should that scenario arise.

“I-“ Verin tries to find the words picking them carefully. “I thought I knew before but now I don’t know. I came to find my brother and I found him, among friends. I have many questions, some answered by your gracious friend but I think for now, I’d like to truly meet my brother’s friends because if this is the company he finds himself in, I can only ask to witness his happiness.”

It’s a strange feeling for Verin to come to that conclusion. When he left Xhorhas he considered he might be bringing back the corpse of his brother, by his hand or someone else’s depending on circumstances, or bring him back in chains for treason to be tried in front of the Bright Queen. What he didn’t expect is to be met by an alternative that would change his views on everything. He realises that with your stories and those of the Nein he was just as lost as all of you, but now he’s found a group of people that willingly accept whichever path he chooses for himself without expectations, rules or conditions.

Verin first hand gets to experience why Essek chose to leave everything behind and give it up for these people. They are his friends, his family and he’d never be alone again if they can help it. Perhaps Verin can experience that too one day. The Mighty Nein will make sure he does because as we know, once you get involved with them, your life changes forever.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #verin thelyss #verin x reader #verin thelyss x reader #critical role

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hedgiwithapen · 3 years ago

Note

How about the Leverage Crew arriving in Central City in time for the that time Barry got accused of murdering DeVoe. Basically, Leverage Crew (Classic or Redeption is your choice) meddling in that plan. Because screw DeVoe. Can be in the same universe as The Central City job, or a brand new AU; your choice.

this one Long The courthouse was packed when a sleek black van pulled up to a loading zone. Nathan Ford turned from the passenger seat. “You all know the play?” “Mm, yup,” Parker said, clipping a badge to her blazer pocket. “The Boston skip.” “It’s not the Boston Skip,” Hardison snapped, fussing with his tie.. “You’re just grumpy because you have to play the lawyer again.” Eliot smirked. “Hey, you said only if it comes to a cross examine, I did my job, if you all do your jobs right and it doesn’t come to that,” Hardison’s voice pitched upwards. “If?” Sophie put on the emergency break. “If? Hardison, I’m hurt.” “Soph,” Nate sighed. “Let it go.” “For now. We’re having words later,” Sophie insisted. “Can we just get this over with?” Eliot asked, maneuvering to take the driver’s seat. “ you know I don’t like us splitting up like this.” “It’ll only be for a bit,” Parker said, squeezing his hand. “ We’ll be fine.” They left the van in twos, first Parker and hardison, briefcase and extraneous computer in hand, and a minute or two later Sophie and Nate followed-- and Nate with a plain folder tucked under his arm. Eliot drove in the direction of the police station, ready for the next phase of the plan. They hadn’t exactly called ahead, but that wasn’t going to be much of a problem. Cisco Ramon was the first to spot them. He goggled a bit. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Hardison approached the bench where Team Flash had congregated. Hardison smiled, knowing the prosecutor was watching. “I came to offer my services,” he said, sending a quick text with a thought. “ Where is Ms Horton?” “Here,” the short woman said, her eyes cutting between the two as Cisco checked his phone. “ Who are you? Cisco, who is--” Cisco looked up from the message--you didn’t see us coming?-- and relaxed slightly for the first time in weeks. “I’m part of Mr. Allen’s legal team,” Hardison smiled wide. “He’s ok, Cecile,” Cisco vouched. “ He and his, uh, coworkers have helped us in the past. With Z--wait, that was before you. Um.” “My firm helped get Henry Allen some money, after that unfortunate mess. And we’re here to see justice through again.” He hesitated. “ Or pick up where it leaves off,” he said under his breath. Cecile took in a sharp breath. “When did we hire you?” “Uh--” “Cecile, it’s really ok,” Caitlin joined the cluster. “They know about STAR. And apparently about the recent… developments.” “You think we don’t keep tabs on your crazy city? Now, Ms. Horton, as your co-lawyer, we need to discuss strategy. I’ve got some character witnesses I’d like to introduce, some crucial evidence that needs to be submitted, is there an office we might use?” He steered her away, nodding to Parker, deep in conversation with the prosecutor.

“You let that jerk stick around?” Iris jumped when she heard the voice in her ear. Turning she sighed with recognition. “ Lilli--Sophie?” “In the flesh.” She smiled. “I can’t stay long, but Eliot wanted me to ask.” Iris sighed. “If it’s Eliot asking, I guess you mean Harry. He’s been a lot better since Eliot kicked his ass, that’s for sure. And he has been helpful.” “I’m sure,” Sophie sounded anything but sure. “Listen, we’ve got this pretty well handled, but you and your friends may wish to be ready in case of reprisals. Have you upgraded security lately?” “Cisco’s worked on it,” Iris confirmed. “Good. Hardison would love to take a look, later. We’re probably going to be in the area, we’ve had word something’s fishy at that prison of yours.” When Iris opened her mouth Sophie shook her head. “Iron Heights. Point is, we’ll be around should you need anything.” “Thank you for the offer,” Iris said. She shook her head. “ These people are smart, Sophie. Dangerous.” “Not compared to my team,” Sophie smiled. “Save your worry. Look, see? Hardison’s in place, and Parker’s in the wings. I’ve got to go take care of my part. If you see your husband, let him know, will you?” “I-- sure,” Iris said, and she watched as Sophie stood and walked into a crowd. An entirely different person made her way past a bailiff and into the Juror’s box, leaning over to the man beside her and nodding in the direction of the door Barry Allen had just been escorted through. As Iris stood to take his hand across the gap between his seat and the benches, Sophie gave a little nod to the two of them. “It is strange,” the man said. “But I don’t think we’re meant to discuss the case until we’re in the back.” “Of course not,” Sophie said. “I was just thinking about it, is all. If it were a scene in a mystery novel, I’d call it too obvious.” “You do have a point,” the man agreed. “I’m actually a novelist myself.” “You don’t say,” Sophie smiled. “Classic red herring, am I right? And what a story. Two men in the same family accused of nearly identical murders…” She tapped her com, giving a quick signal. Nate was up. “Ah, a quick word?” Nate stepped away from the wall, flagging down Mrs. DeVoe and her companion. “No,” she snapped, putting on what Nate could see was a reasonably convincing mask of Grieving Widow. Convincing to a mark, maybe. But the Mako was right--you can’t con a conman. “Vultures, all of you.” “Oh, I’m not a reporter.” Nate said easily. He nodded to the tall man at Marlize’s Elbow. “Mr. DeVoe, I’m sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He was pleased to see shock cross the face of Dominic Lanse. The man grabbed him by the arm, yanking him into an empty room. Mrs. DeVoe followed, locking it behind her. “Just so you are aware, there is video footage of you dragging me in here,” Nate said in his most helpful voice. “In case you decide to kill me here, probably not your smartest move.” he glanced around. “Private, though. Good.” He gave his signature infuriating grin. “Make this quick,” Clifford said in Dominic’s voice. “Court begins soon.” “Right, well, that’s going to be your problem.” Nate shrugged. “ Let’s skip the pleasantries. I know everything, about your plan at least. Your computer banks! Normal people couldn’t even find them, so you’ve got that going for you, though the security is lacking once you get past that, so B+. I am not Normal People. I have the best hacker in the multiverse, though, so,” he clicked his tongue in mock dismay, “like I said, my team and I --I’m sure you’re trying to think of who we are right now--know everything.” Marlize glanced at her silent watch, frowning. “Oh, no, no, I’m not a meta.” Nate shook his head. “But the thing is, I don’t have to be to destroy you.” “What--” “Again. I know everything, Thinker. Your basement prison, your hidden files, what you want with that satellite… you really shouldn’t have written everything down… twice even.” He fished a small book out of his pocket, and let them see the plain cover. Clifford’s eyes darkened. “That’s mine.” “Yeah, well, I also have the

multiverse’s greatest thief.” “Our home is under police protection and surveillance. There are officers--” “There right now, I’m aware.” Eliot Spencer, clutching a cup of coffee in one hand, flashed a badge at the pair of officers standing by a door. “Any trouble?” “Nope. She just left for the courthouse. Some work, huh? Just standing here.” “Hmm.“ Eliot agreed. “Though I guess if something did happen, the Flash would swoop in.” “Nine times out of ten,” the first officer agreed. “Or one of his buddies. “ “Maybe 8 times,” the second officer shrugged. “ You new?” “Just transferred from Keystone.” Eliot said. “Not so much nonsense there.” “I hear that. Good to have the backup though.” Eliot nodded. “ You do a walk through?” “Uh, no…. Like I said, no trouble, officer-- “Ted Crichton,” Eliot interrupted. “You haven’t walked through? What if someone’s in there, waiting to assault Mrs. DeVoe when she gets back?” “Well, uh, we don’t have a warrant--” “For crying out loud--” Eliot pulled a paper from his pocket. “See? Now let's go. You stay out here. Who has the back-- does no one have the back door? “ The officers hurried inside. “Don’t forget to check the closets,” Eliot called. -- “ Like I said. Best thief. Best hacker. Now, honestly--and you can run the numbers-- your best bet would be to cut your losses right here, right now. You’re already lying on the stand, so say you were coerced into implicating Mr. Allen--if you need someone to blame I do have a list of patsys that really need the jail time. You do that, put your little plan,” he waggled the book “ back in the box or write it up as the next dystopian best seller for High School English classes to dissect for decades to come, and you can walk away from this.” A laugh. “No one will believe anything you say. That book can’t be traced to me, and even if it could be, it doesn’t prove anything. So someone thinks I’m a supervillain. I’m dead. You have nothing that proves Mr. Allen innocent. You’re out of your mind, Mr. Ford.” “Oh good, you know who I am. Think a little harder.” “As threats go, it’s half baked,” Marlize challenged. “What are you going to do if we refuse? Break Allen out of jail so he can be a fugitive? He’d never go along with it. And the Flash can’t stop us.” “I’d run those numbers again, you’ve left out quite a few variables. But no.” “No?” “If you refuse, if you keep up your little game, lie on the stand, sell that sob story, maybe you're right and the Flash can’t stop you. But he doesn’t need to. I’ll destroy you.” “You.” It was not a question. “For someone claiming to be the smartest man in the world, I’m a bit worried about your memory. I said it already--I’m not here alone. But be my guest. Tell your lies. Right about now the Jury is thinking about what an embarrassment to the city Henry Allen’s trial was and how closely this resembles it… the similarities, the way the timelines don’t quite match up… “ “Really? You’re trying to convince the jury to ignore evidence and go with their hearts? A pathos appeal? That’s not going to work. There’s less than a 3% chance of that even ending in a mistrial, much less acquittal.” “I’m sure that’s what your numbers said,” Nate smiled yet again, this time sharklike. “Cute. I bet you think it’s difficult to get assigned jury duty. “ “It-- we checked all the names. We know--” “You know who they are, yes, yes. But you don’t know who we are. Another sloppy mistake. Now, the jury’s, you're right, not a total slam dunk. So, right now the prosecutor is getting word of some new evidence from a very well respected FBI agent about how helpful the Flash and Mr Allen have both been in assisting with a case against a known human trafficker--you know her, Ammunet Black. The one you bought your puppet from. FBI picked her up…mmm, ten minutes ago? And she had some very interesting things to say. You can guess what they were. Add to that the evidence--” “What evidence?” “The wire transfers between you and Ms. Black. In December and a few days ago. We didn’t even have to fake that first one, but even if the second

one looks a little fishy, the fact that--” “Nate, we got him,” crackled Eliot’s voice in his ear. “--the police just found a metahuman locked in your hall closet--Weeper, I think is what Ms. Black called him-- should make things clear. He wasn’t thrilled about having to stick around much longer but your basement is pretty hard for normal people to find so we had to nudge that a bit. But hey, you’re all for planting evidence. Anyways, court’s in ten minutes…. but the police will be arresting you in about three, if my math’s right-- care to check?-- so I can make this very quick. We have video of you threatening the Flash, holding him prisoner the same night as that wire transfer, proof of Dominic’s powers and sale--my hacker thanks you for all those cameras and bugs, by the way, made his job much easier-- and you add that all up and it sure looks like you got upset at the Flash and Allen for poking into your meta trafficking and decided a frame up was in order.” Nate hefted the folder, “and then there’s this.” “And what,” Marlize asked, shaking with rage, “ is that?” “A copy of files that will be delivered to the FBI, NSA and Dean of Husdson University if you don’t admit to the frame up.” Nate said, thumbing through them. “Proof that you, Mrs. DeVoe, fed information to certain entities across Africa and the Middle East where you were doing your research and aid work to assist in their terror attacks and human trafficking--ties in quite nicely to your work with Ammunet, if I do say so myself. And proof that the “late” Mr. DeVoe plagiarized his thesis, his dissertation, even the syllabi for his classes.” “Lies. No one will believe any of--” “Oh, it’s all very well forged. Except for the bit about the Syllabi. For shame.” Nate tutted. “And part of the dissertation. Can they take away a PH.d posthumously? Anyways, even if it wasn’t, do you really think that no one would believe a man who thinks that giving everyone on the planet late stage Alzheimer’s is going to solve famine and illness? What kind of legitimate history teacher doesn’t know about cholera or the effects of the agricultural revolution? Every lie has a kernel of truth to it.” Nate glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, that certainly was enlightening. And before you decide to simply kill me, run your little calculations with one more variable: Eliot Spencer.” DeVoe’s brow furrowed and what little color he had drained from his face. “ That’s what I thought. Three.. Two.. one.” Nate raised his voice. “ Help! I’m in here!” The door crashed from its hinges. “The Gloat is the best part,” Parker, FBI badge swinging, put an arm over Barry’s shoulders. He stood with Iris next to her and Eliot as the DeVoes were hauled away. “You know, I think I might have to agree,” Iris said, squeezing Barry’s hand. “Or second best, at least,” she added meaningfully. “So… what now?” Joe asked. “I mean, there’s still… the red tape, but… do we need to be worried? Don’t they still have--” “Oh, that sick chair and computer set up?” Hardison asked with a smirk. “I want it.” Harry announced. “When did you get here?” Hardison asked, affronted. -- Parker held up her badge as she pushed the crate up a ramp into Lucille. “Special Agent Hagen! Let me help you with that,” Agent McSweeten said, taking the dolley handle from her. Parker beamed, patting the side, careful not to dislodge the panel on the side. “Thanks!” -- “Anyways, you can’t just call dibs. You’re too late,” Hardison added, giving Parker a fistbump. “We stole it.”

#dammit hedgi day 2021 #leverage #the central city job #the flash

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alwaysachorusgirl · 4 years ago

Text

Playing Matchmaker

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,028

Square: Blind Date

TW: none

Tagging: @thatesqcrush

A/N: Well, it took a massive re-write, but it’s done. This isn’t the story I originally started writing, but I’m okay with that. I like this version better. I like that it became more of an ensemble piece. And then there’s Janice. She’s named after Janice from the Muppets, and her personality is a combination of a few people that I know. She’s that friend who really cares and means well, but doesn’t always understand boundaries. And once I started writing her, it was hard to stop.

“Janice, can you please just knock it off already?”

You swallowed two ibuprofen tablets with a swig of your white chocolate mocha and rubbed your temples. As an SVU detective it was rare for you to have a Saturday off. You had agreed to meet your friend and neighbor Janice for coffee and breakfast. Everything had been fine until she had started sticking her nose into your love life, or lack thereof, and now you had a headache.

“But Y/N, Valentine’s Day is a few days away, and once again, you don’t have any plans. Come on, just let me set you up with someone. One more blind date isn’t going to kill you.”

“No, but I might kill you, “you shot back, glaring at your friend. “Look, I’m sorry, I know you mean well, it never works.”

“It might, if you ever gave one of them a chance,” She countered. “You’re the one who always bails after one drink.”

“I’m a detective, Janice, and a good judge of character. I can tell pretty quickly if a guy isn’t going to meet my standards. And besides, I hate Valentine’s Day. It’s not a real holiday, and it’s not worth me wasting my time and energy.”

“Damn, Y/N,” remarked Janice, “You’re too young to be that jaded and cynical.”

“I’m merely stating a fact, “you said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s not my fault if you can’t handle it.”

“What about your partner, that Italian guy? He’s cute.”

“Sonny?” You nearly spat out your drink. “He’s like my big brother. I think I’m technically an adopted Carisi sister, at this point.”

“Okay, so that’s a “no”. You mind if I ask him out?”

“Janice, no; he’s a good Catholic boy and I will not have you corrupting him.”

“Okay, okay, chill,” said Janice, sitting back and putting her hands up in defeat. “Oh! Wait! I know! What about that ADA you always hang out with? What’s his name…Raymond?”

“His name is Rafael, and he’s also a “no”. I don’t think he feels the same way about me, as I do him.”

“Aha! So, you do have your eye on someone!”

“Janice, please, just drop it already. I have a headache and I don’t want to talk about this right now. Can we please order food? I’m starving.”

******************

After breakfast, you bundled up and headed out into the February air. You knew that Janice was just trying to help, but sometimes she just didn’t understand the concept of boundaries. Your love life had been non-existent since you had caught your last boyfriend cheating red-handed. That had been two years ago. Rafael Barba had offered you his shoulder to cry on, knowing all too well the kind of pain and humiliation that you had been feeling. He’d gone from work colleague to one of your best friends after that, and at some point, you had developed romantic feelings for the handsome, Cuban ADA. But for the sake of your friendship and working relationship, you intended to keep that to yourself. It wasn’t worth taking the risk of losing him or making things weird between the two of you.

Your feelings for Rafael were also why all the blind dates never went anywhere. Some of your dates had been nice, others total douchebags, but they weren’t Rafael, and therefore, there was no point in the stringing them along. As long as you were comparing them up against the standard that was Rafael Barba, they could never measure up. You were fine with that.

**************************

Janice walked into the SVU squad room on Monday and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t see you. She wasn’t there to see you anyway. Instead she looked around and tried to find someone who looked like they worked with you.

“Excuse me, miss? You look a little lost. I’m Detective Amanda Rollins, Can I help you with something?”

Janice turned and smile at the blond woman with the Southern accent. She recognized the name right away.

“I think you can. I’m Janice Wilson. I’m a friend of Detective Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“Oh, Y/N’s not here right now. I think she’ll back in about a half an hour?” Amanda paused. “What a minute…did you say Janice? Janice the Matchmaker?!”

“She’s mentioned me?” Janice’s eyes went wide.

“Oh honey,” said Amanda, “we know all about you. You’re kind of famous around here. Hey! Carisi! Finn! Get off your butts and get over here!”

“What?” Sonny called back from his desk, his mouth full of food. “It’s lunchtime, Rollins, I’m eating over here!”

“Yeah, Rollins, what’s the fuss?” Asked Finn, rising from his chair.

Amanda walked Janice a little further into the squad room.

“Guys, this is Janice, the Janice! You know, Y/N’s friend?”

“Wait, seriously? Janice the Matchmaker? Nice to finally put a face to the name,” said Finn, coming over and shaking Janice’s hand.

“Hey, we’ve met before. It was that one time at Y/N’s apartment, “said Sonny, finally putting down his sandwich and standing up. “You live down the hall. So, what brings you to SVU?”

Janice quickly filled them in the conversation from the coffee shop.

“So, the thing is, I’ve been getting it all wrong. If I had had known sooner about the ADA, I would have tried setting her up with him. I feel bad and I need to make this right with her. The problem is, I think she’s a little pissed at me, and she’s not going to listen to me. That’s where you guys come in. I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“Count me in, “said Amanda. “If anyone needs to get together, it’s Y/N and Barba.”

“I don’t know, Rollins, “said Sonny. “Isn’t this kind of going behind her back?”

“Carisi, have you seen the way they look at each other? Have you ever noticed how he’s less cranky when she’s around?”

“Yes, Rollins, I know, we all know! But she’s still my partner, and I gotta look out for her.” He looked at Janice. “If I agree to this, what exactly would I have to do?”

Janice motioned for everyone to come closer.

“Bring it in, folks, here’s the plan.”

*********************

When you came back from picking up warrants and getting lunch, everything appeared to be normal. Amanda and Finn were working at their desks. Sonny was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t exactly unusual. Any one of you could be called out on a case at any time. You took off your coat and sat down at your desk. You were just starting to dig into your lunch when Amanda got up and came over.

“Hey, you, just the person I wanted to see.” She flashed her best smile, and you immediately suspicious.

“Hi Amanda, what’s up?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if you had any plans for Valentine’s Day…”

“Amanda, you know that I don’t. What’s really going on?”

“Okay, so I know this guy. He also doesn’t have any plans for Valentine’s Day, and I think he might be a good fit for you.”

“Oh, dear God, are you seriously trying to set me up on a blind date?”

“Yes, I am. Look, I vouch for this guy. I wouldn’t try to set you up with someone that

I couldn’t vouch for, and he’s a nice guy. I think you’ll like him.”

“Fine,” you sighed, hanging your head in defeat. “But if this guy sets off even one red flag, I’m bailing.”

“That is totally fair,” agreed Amanda. “You would be disappointed, I promise.”

********************

Sonny walked into Rafael Barba’s office at 1 Hogan Place and hoped that he wouldn’t screw this up. He still couldn’t believe that he’s agreed to this, but Janice and Amanda had been so sure that this would work. He heard his phone ping in his coat pocket. He checked it and saw it was a text from Amanda. She had succeeded in getting you to agree to the blind date. Now he had to do his part. Rafael’s assistant, Carmen, was sitting at her desk.

“Hey, Carmen, he in?”

“Yes, but he’s prepping for court, so he’s in a mood. Don’t take up too much of his time, okay?”

“No problem, hopefully this won’t take long.” Sonny knocked the door and waited until he heard “Enter!”, before going in.

Rafael looked up and wasn’t thrilled to see the detective striding into his office.

“What do you want Carisi? I’m busy, and Y/N already came by earlier to pick up those warrants for Liv.”

“I’m actually here to ask you a question. What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?”

“The same thing I do every year, working,” replied Rafael, rolling his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“I ask because I have this friend, and she is into you. I really think you’d like her, and she doesn’t have any plans for Valentine’s Day. So, I’m just trying to be a good friend and help her out…”

“You’re trying to set me up on a blind date with your friend? Are you kidding me right now?”

“No, no I most certainly am not. Come on, Barba, it’s one date. Trust me, you’re going to like her. She’s worth it.”

“Does this friend have a name?” asked Rafael, suddenly realizing that the detective wasn’t backing down without a fight.

“I can’t tell you that because it will ruin the surprise, but come on, what have you got to lose?”

**********************

And so, on Valentine’s Day, Rafael Barba found himself walking into a little French Bistro a few blocks away from Hogan Place. He still didn’t know his date’s name. All he had been told by Sonny was what she’d be wearing, that she was beautiful, and that he’d know her when he saw her. It was all a bit too vague for his tastes, but Sonny had insisted. So, the ADA had chosen the restaurant and made a reservation. He looked around, hoping to see someone that fit the description he’d been given. Instead, he saw you, sitting at the bar and nursing a glass of red wine. He made his way over to the bar, secretly wishing that he was meeting you instead of his date.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Rafael!” You said, looking up in surprise. You got up and hugged your friend. He was warm and it felt so good to be wrapped up in his arms. He smelled of coffee and his cologne and it was nothing short of intoxicating. You probably held onto to him for a bit too long, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Believe it or not, Amanda set me up on a blind date,” you told him, finally pulling away and sitting back down.

“Really? This is going to sound weird, but Carisi set me up on a blind date.”

“He did what? He didn’t tell me about that. Is it just me, or does it feel like something’s up?”

“Yes,” Rafael nodded, “Something is definitely up. Y/N, what color would you say your dress is?”

You looked down at your dress, and then back up at Rafael, thoroughly confused.

“I like to think of it as a cranberry wine,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Carisi said my date would be wearing a cranberry wine-colored wrap dress, is beautiful, and that I’d know her when I saw her.”

Your eyes went wide as your thought back to what Amanda had told you about your date.

“Amanda told me that my date has green eyes, dark hair, is well-dressed, and that I’d know him when I saw him…” You trailed off, gazing into Rafael’s eyes, realization dawning on you. “It’s you. I’m so glad it’s you.”

“I’m glad it’s you, too,” said Rafael, taking your hand in his. “So, want to you say to having dinner with me?”

“I say ‘Yes’, nothing would make me happier. Just let me text Amanda real quick.”

Y/N: I’m going to kill you!

A. Rollins: Lol, that’s fine. Just make sure you say ‘thank you’ to Janice. She’s the brains of the operation. We couldn’t have done it without her.

#thatesqcrush vday bingo #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #svu #svu fanfiction #rafael barba imagines #fan fiction #raul esparza

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ibijau · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request Yanqing? Prompt 67 - “I’m doing this.” “Then I’m going with you." Thank you!

(Untamed verse bc Yanli wouldn’t have been around when wwx confronts jzxun in the novel)

There’s just something off about Wei Wuxian.

Of course, there’s always something off about Wei Wuxian these days, Jiang Yanli reflects. He’s always angry, always on edge, snapping at everyone, acting insolently… She would never dare to say it out loud for fear of hurting him, but Jiang Yanli feels sometimes that Wei Wuxian has become the person her mother always accused him to be, reckless and selfish and endangering their sect simply to stroke his ego.

She hates those thoughts when they come to her.

Others might say what they will about Wei Wuxian, but she knows him better than that. There’s a reason he’s like this, there has to be.

Jiang Yanli knows about secrets. She has a few of her own, or else she’d have already accepted Jin Zixuan’s clumsy attempt at courting, wouldn’t she? And just as she's hiding hers, so deep that nobody ever thinks she's capable of hiding anything, not her, not sweet naive and weak Jiang Yanli, she knows there's something lurking beneath the surface of Wei Wuxian's disdain.

She listens attentively as Wei Wuxian comes for Jin Zixun's throat, ordering him around, demanding he be told where to find…

And here, Jiang Yanli almost cries out.

Wei Wuxian is looking for Wen Ning.

She knows those Wen siblings, they're like her and her brothers, never far apart, never for long. Where Wen Ning is, Wen Qing will be found as well. Jiang Yanli hasn't found a trace of her… her friend, not since the war ended. Of course she couldn't have asked Jiang Cheng, who wouldn't understand, or Wei Wuxian, who… well, he had his own trouble. Jin Zixuan assured her that all surviving Wen were being treated with more kindness than they would have done for others had they won, but by his own admission he hasn't been involved in dealing with them, the task left to his cousin and half-brother.

Her heart wild with worry, Jiang Yanli discreetly follows Wei Wuxian when he leaves Jinlin Tai. He doesn’t notice her. Nobody ever does, of course, but Jiang Yanli is hardly good at these sorts of things, so she’s irrationally cross at him, even knowing he’d send her back if he noticed her. She follows him through just outside of Jinlin Tai, hoping and hoping and hoping, until at last Wei Wuxian stops next to a beggar wearing rags that might once have been red.

Wen Qing all but leaps into Wei Wuxian’s arms as he whispers something to her, and Jiang Yanli’s heart skips a beat.

Wen Qing is alive after all.

Having seen her, Jiang Yanli can finally admit to herself how terrified she was that the dear friend she made in the Cloud Recesses had died, another casualty in that horrifying war, her head mounted on a spike somewhere like they did to Wen Xu and many others. It is such a relief to see Wen Qing again, to see her alive, that Jiang Yanli throws caution to the wind and stumbles forward to join the other two, pulling her dear friend into a tight hug.

“Shijie!” Wei Wuxian gasps. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help,” Jiang Yanli replies, letting go of Wen Qing, only to immediately take her hands. Her skin is cold, and she’s lost so much weight since they last saw each other. Jiang Yanli wants to bathe her, dress her in finer clothes, feed her. She wants to take Wen Qing somewhere safe, and keep her from harm for good. “What’s going on? A-Xian, you said something about Wen Ning earlier?”

Wen Qing shivers, and looks ready to cry. Jiang Yanli squeezes her hands with as much tenderness as she dares. She listens attentively as Wei Wuxian explains the situation, the Wen of Dafan Mountain being in danger, Wen Qing begging him for help, the Jin’s lies.

“I’m going to Qiongqi path right away to rescue the Wen,” Wei Wuxian announces in a wary tone, as if expecting resistance, but Jiang Yanli only nods.

From the start, her brother has favoured Wen Ning, treating him as a little brother… or something like it, anyway. Jiang Yanli has seen how happy Wei Wuxian was playing with Wen Ning in the Cloud Recesses, how he trusted that boy who should have been their enemy when Jiang Cheng was hurt… and of course she hasn’t missed the way Wen Ning always looked at Wei Wuxian like he hung the moon and stars.

“Then I’ll protect Wen guniang,” Jiang Yanli offers. “I’ll keep her safe with me until…”

“No, I have to go with Wei gongzi,” Wen Qing objects weakly. “A-Ning might need my help, or the others. If they’re wounded, I’ll… No, I can’t stay behind. I’m doing this.”

“Then I’m going with you,” Jiang Yanli simply replies, squeezing Wen Qing’s hands. “You have to let me help.”

Wen Qing doesn’t smile, but her eyes shine with gratefulness… or maybe she’s just that close to crying.

“Shijie can’t come, it’s too dangerous,” Wei Wuxian says. “It’ll also attract too much attention, and it’s not good for your health to be horse-riding such a long distance.”

Horse-riding, not flying a sword, Jiang Yanli notes. She expected Wei Wuxian to say he can’t carry two people, since Wen Qing doesn’t appear to have a sword anymore, and Jiang Yanli’s health doesn’t allow her to fly. It’s so odd. Wei Wuxian is a strong flyer, with a solid golden core, he should be able to fly to Qiongqi path with Wen Qing, so why take horses instead?

It makes no sense.

“I am not that weak,” Jiang Yanli protests, unwilling to be parted from the dear friend she’s only just found again. “And if I am present, I might exert more authority than you upon those people.”

“Or else everyone in the cultivation world will say I kidnapped you,” Wei Wuxian points out. “And then they’ll run after us to rescue you, and Wen Ning will be left to his fate. It’s safer if you don’t come. This doesn’t concern you, shijie, so let me deal with it alone.”

Because it concerns you, of course it concerns me, Jiang Yanli almost replies. Because it concerns Wen Qing, it also concerns me, she’d be tempted to add.

But that would only start a long argument, and Wei Wuxian is right about one thing: Wen Ning cannot be left to his fate. Besides, Jiang Yanli can find other ways to help.

“I understand,” she says, a touch too meekly. She sees a slight crease between Wen Qing’s eyebrows, and it pleases her that the other woman finds it odd for her to give in so easily, that she knows Jiang Yanli well enough for that. “I will stay behind… please be careful, both of you.”

“Don’t tell Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian simply says, sounding oddly on edge at the idea her brother might be involved.

A horrible, terrible idea starts to form in her mind at the memory of those days they spent in Wen Qing’s house, so desperate to find a way for Jiang Cheng to regain his golden core, and how he never seems to do any sort of regular cultivation these days.

With hardly so much as a shiver, Jiang Yanli puts that suspicion aside. Later. She’ll deal with this later.

“I won’t say a word to him,” Jiang Yanli easily promises. “Go now, time is of the essence.”

Wei Wuxian nods. Wen Qing hugs her, just a touch too tight, as if expecting it’ll be the last time. Jiang Yanli has been hugged by Wen Qing for the last time repeatedly, so she knows how that feels of course.

Jiang Yanli watches as two of the three people she holds dearest in the world leave together for a rescue mission that she cannot imagine going well, not with Wei Wuxian’s temper these days. She watches on until she’s sure they’re gone, then heads back inside Jinlin Tai, her pace slow and careful to avoid attracting attention.

The men inside the banquet hall are all shouting and arguing, accusing Wei Wuxian of every crime under the sky, making it sound as though Jiang Cheng is weak for not keeping his head disciple under control. Jiang Yanli ignores them all, and they ignore her back. Sometimes it pays to have little presence.

While everyone argues, Jiang Yanli makes her way to Jin Zixuan’s side and pulls lightly on his sleeve. She would have expected it’d take effort to get his attention, but he instantly turns to look at her, and even tries to smile at her.

“Jiang guniang, I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding,” Jiang Zixuan says. “Since you’ve vouched for him, I believe Wei Wuxian cannot be that bad, or he wouldn’t have your trust. I’m sure we’ll sort this out, once everyone calms down.”

Jiang Yanli smiles back. If there weren’t more urgent things to consider, she’d be touched by his trust, by his gentleness.

“Jin gongzi, as it happens, I need your help,” she says in a low whisper, glad for the noise around them that hides her words. “I need to get to that place your cousin mentioned, Qiongqi path, and I need to get there quickly, but I cannot fly, and I cannot ask my brother.”

The smile on Jin Zixuan’s handsome face disappears, replaced by a severe expression as he glances around and tries to decide what to do. Jiang Yanli wouldn’t even blame him if he turned her down, not in the current political climate, not when his own cousin has just been assaulted. If this doesn’t work, then Jiang Yanli will try with someone else. That nice second Jade of Gusu Lan perhaps. Or else…

But she doesn’t need to think of an alternative. Jin Zixuan nods shortly, and discreetly motions for her to go back outside. She obeys, and he quickly joins her, sword in hand.

Flying is quicker than horses, so they’ll get there before Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, and if Wen Ning is in any danger, they’ll save him.

And then…

Then it will be another problem.

But Jiang Yanli has just found Wen Qing again and she’s not going to let anyone take her dear friend from her again.

#yanqing #jiang yanli #wei wuxian #wen qing #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #this one really isn't super shippy oooops?#Anonymous

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sockablock · 4 years ago

Text

in light of the truly heartwarming response I got to part one of this story, please enjoy: How To Build a Magic School, Chapter 2

—

It took a special kind of mind to follow the Mighty Nein’s conversations once they really got heated. It helped, at least, that they were seated in close proximity, sprawled across a ring of crates in the main tent, but the fact of the matter was that trying to pay attention to seven people all chiming in at once was already giving Essek a mild headache. And minor neck pain.

“—kind of disguise,” Veth was saying. “I know it’s been a couple years, but folks here…they might not be happy to see a…a...”

“A foreigner,” Fjord said, diplomatically.

“A Xhorhastian,” Yasha tried.

“A drow,” Essek came to their rescue. “No, she is right.”

There was a sharp and semi-affronted exhale from Jester. “Did you get any funny looks when you arrived? Did anyone say anything to you?”

“And do you remember which ones they were?” Caleb added quietly.

Essek hesitated, trying to remember, but through the bright haze of sunlight and hot summer, the furious clamor of construction outside—

“I…do not think anyone saw my arrival.”

“You’re wearing full black and carrying a pink umbrella,” Beau grunted. “Are you sure?”

He hesitated again. “Ah…no.”

“All sorts of interesting people have visited us since the school project started,” Caduceus said. In line with the conventions of his personal narrative, he was attempting to make tea over a tiny, portable burner. “You probably won’t be the strangest thing they’ve seen or will see, working here.”

“They’ve already seen Fjord—”

“Hey! That—why—”

“The people of Felderwin can be touchy though,” Veth continued, smugly ignoring Fjord. “I don’t really think you can blame them, either. If it wasn’t the goblin attacks for years before that, it was the, well, the huge invasion where a purple worm ate the ground and half the town caught on fire.”

She maintained eye contact with Essek as she said this. Her gaze intensified when he shrugged.

“That is…fair enough,” Caleb cut in. “But I would feel…ill at ease to force you, Essek, to hide if you did, ah, did not wish to…”

Essek gestured vaguely at his appearance. “Actually, I had assumed I would be needing to disguise myself. I have masqueraded as a high elf before, and it would not be difficult to do so again.”

“Isn’t that a lot of spells wasted?” Fjord asked. “Won’t it be annoying to have to keep that up?”

“It’s not that hard,” said Veth, under her breath.

“Oh, oh, I could Polymorph you!” Jester clapped her hands together, enthused. “I can make you anything! You could be an elf, or a tiefling, or a firbolg or a—”

“I appreciate the offer,” Essek said smoothly, “but I do have a few resources at hand. A simple ring of illusion would do the trick.”

“What are we gonna say about you, though?” Beauregard asked. All heads turned toward her. “If the court wants to know about you, a random mage and one of the first hires of the magic school, what are we supposed to tell them?”

They considered this.

“He’s a…family friend?”

“Whose family?”

“Well, I’d like to think of us as a family—”

“Why don’t we say he’s from Nicodranas?” Jester suggested. “We could say he’s, um…oh! That he was recommended by Yussa!”

“Yussa?” Essek echoed.

“Actually…that doesn’t sound half-bad,” Fjord mused. “Master Yussa is a mage that the king recognizes, yes?”

“Ah, he is a mage?”

“He’s a friend of ours!” Jester beamed. “A super powerful wizard that lives in the Open Quay. He’s pretty powerful, Essek. Maybe even more powerful than you!”

This was delivered with a winning smile. Caleb sighed. “From what I gather, Master Yussa is much older, and has had quite a few lifetimes’ worth of practice. He is also…quite reclusive, and therefore not exactly what we had in mind for this school.

“And he said no,” Beauregard muttered.

“Yes, danke, and he also turned us down. The point is, we can pretend you are acquainted with him. That should be enough to assuage the court.”

“Will this…Master Yussa agree to such a thing?” Essek asked.

Caleb answer with a faint grin. “He is a wizard who feels he is…not so beholden to court pressures. Also, he owes us a favor, as is.”

Essek couldn’t help but match Caleb’s expression. “Is that so? Then I find I quite admire this man.”

“We saved him from the Happy Fun Ball,” Yasha supplied, a collection of syllables that no betting man would have ever predicted to come from her. “He likes us.”

“He loves us,” Jester corrected. “He has our Little Willi and his assistant Wensforth practically worships us and everything!”

After the pertinent information had been properly located, Essek nodded. “That is, er, lovely. I owe him my thanks.”

“Now we just gave to give you a new name,” said Veth. “I don’t think we can keep calling you ‘Thelyss,’ unless we want the idiots on the Committee getting suspicious.”

“The…excuse me?”

“The Arcane Restoration Supervisory Committee,” Caleb sighed, “is a group of concerned officials—”

“—nosy dillweeds—"

“—that was formed to manage—”

“—micromanage—”

“—to oversee our current rebuilding efforts. It is very likely,” he continued, giving Beau a look, “that this is the court’s way of reconciling with the fact that an unknown quantity has been handed the reigns of the Dwendalian Empire’s arcane future.”

“I know that,” Beau countered, “I just don’t like them.”

“Caleb is the unknown quantity,” Caduceus added.

“…I see,” said Essek, eventually. “Should I, ah, be concerned about them?”

“Probably not,” Beau said. “They’re just a bunch of nobles who think they understand the first thing about magic.”

“You being an expert on the subject, of course,” was what Essek did not say, because self-preservation interrupted just in time. Instead, what left his mouth was:

“I had also anticipated concern about my involvement—that is, Shadowhand Essek Thelyss’s involvement—in this matter. If necessary, I can masquerade as someone else. I, ah, will still need an umbrella during the daylight hours, though. Or perhaps a large hat?”

The elongated squeal from Jester atop the milk crate filled him with regret.

“What was the name you used last time?” Fjord asked. “Desden…Desbin…”

“‘Dezran Thain,’” Essek supplied. “Actually, I could employ that title again.”

“Uh…is that a good idea?” Veth asked. “Wasn’t Dezran a friend of the Assembly’s?”

Essek shook his head. “Strictly speaking, Thain was just a very minor lord that lived in Nicodranas. When the peace talks began, he was called upon by Da’leth to play tour guide and host due to his interest in magic and local familiarity. Only he, de Rogna, and Tversky knew who I really was.”

“It is…not bad, as far as our plans go,” Caleb said after a while. “It aligns with the story that you are Nicodranian, and it might actually sit well with the court members that had favored the Assembly. As for those who supported us against them…”

Beau rolled her eyes when Caleb’s gaze fell on her. “Yeah, yeah, an Expositor will vouch for him.”

“An Expositor?”

“Gods, fine, this Expositor.”

“Thank you.” Then he gave Essek a nod. “That about covers it then, ja? This story, we can tell the court, and then—"

“Wait, hang on—” And this was Beauregard again, leaning forward, staring directly at Essek.

“Yes?” he said.

“What did you tell your court?” she asked.

—

Mother had spoken to the Bright Queen alone. This was not technically out of the ordinary, as the Umavis of Rosohna frequently met to discuss state matters too selective for anyone else. But Essek was unused to being considered “anyone else,” which was why the situation still rankled, in his mind.

“Tell me again,” he turned to face his mother, floating clothes and books drifting past his head. “Is that all you said?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

At his still-annoyed expression, his mother sighed. “Yes, dear. I just told Leylas that this was a unique opportunity for you to integrate yourself within the Empire and gain ample information that would otherwise be inaccessible. We all saw how abruptly the war ended, and how quickly the Assembly seemed to fall afterwards. No one can blame her for being curious.”

A small inkwell drifted across the room as Essek resumed packing. “And then?” he prompted.

His mother sighed again.

“And then I reassured her Majesty that there were plenty of souls that could temporarily come together to fill the void you would leave behind—”

No doubt all from Den Thelyss, Essek thought.

“—and that even in absentia, you would still be serving as a valuable font of information for the Dynasty. Which, after all, is what the Shadowhand is meant to do. And of course, should it ever be required, you could always be called home.”

“…indeed.”

“Indeed,” his mother smiled. “Though, of course, this is all under the assumption that aside from your prospective employer, nobody else will know who you truly are.”

Essek gave this due consideration.

“I have a feeling that the rest of the Mighty Nein will be told, Mother.”

The Umavi of Den Thelyss was not an easy woman to read. Her expression gave nothing away as she said, “I see.”

“But,” Essek added, because he felt he needed to, “I don’t think anyone else has to know.”

She reached out slowly and plucked a mirror from the air.

“I have more faith in you than that, my dear. I am confident you will ensure it is so.”

—

“—temporary leave of absence,” said Essek, now, to the Mighty Nein. “I have been the Shadowhand for most of my life, and a diligent scholar of the nation before that. I was owed some vacation days.”

“Vacation days—” began Fjord.

“But how temporary?” asked Beau, cutting him off. “I thought it’d be hard for you—you know, as you said, the Shadowhand—to just up and leave, after all. How long can you stay here?”

Essek gave her a wry smile. “Fortunately, I expect my definition of ‘temporary’ is somewhat different than yours.”

“Longer,” said Caduceus.

“Longer,” he agreed. “It is very safe to assume that I can stay for at least a decade, if I wish.”

“And I certainly hope you do wish,” said Caleb quickly. “There are many things we will need to accomplish, after all, not just today during construction, but in the future. And, ah,” he added, a little more pointedly, “I do feel as if I should thank you again. For everything you have done for us, and now today in volunteering your expertise.”

“Man, we’re really going to need it,” Jester groaned, throwing herself back across the milk crate. “The Committee keeps telling us to go faster, hire this person, that person, build the school different—everything.”

“Really?”

Caleb chuckled. “Yes, but that all can be explained tomorrow,” he said. “For now, though,” and he stood, crouching to avoid the ceiling of the tent, “let me show you to where we are staying. I expect you must be tired, ja? If not by the travel, then at least the time difference.”

For just a moment, Essek thought about saying otherwise. But there was something in Caleb’s hopeful expression that made him pause.

He yawned very minutely, and smiled. “It would be nice to put my things away,” he admitted. “And, ah, perhaps have a short rest.”

“Of course, of course,” Caleb gestured to the door, but did stop to address the group at large. “I’m sure I’ll be back soon,” he added, “but if anyone needs me…Jester?”

She saluted cheerfully, for the spirit of it. “Got it!”

“And of course, Veth, you are the Professor in charge.”

This was answered with an expansive wave, and a grin.

“Of course, Headmaster! Leave everything to us!”

—

“So…Headmaster, eh?” One pair of footsteps—and then sheepishly, another—began to crunch through the freshly-dewed grass. All around them, spanning the entirety of the field, a legion of masons and stonecutters and workmen cut, sawed, hammered, and hefted the thick wooden frame of an enormous building in its first stages. A group of surveyors stood at the center, arguing as more lumber was lugged into view, directing the flow of Construction and Progress.

“Apparently so,” Caleb said, “though I have to admit, I am not quite used to that title yet.”

Something enormous soared overhead, momentarily blotting out the sun.

“Would you prefer Professor Widogast?”

Caleb sighed as the shadow vanished.

“I prefer ‘Caleb,’ to be truly honest.”

Essek chuckled. “Then for now at least, I will oblige.”

He glanced up as the next shadow approached, squinting to see in the bright morning light. After rubbing his eyes and blinking a few times, he could make out the shape of a massive carpet, carrying sacks of sand and brick.

“Spoils from the remnants of Soltryce,” Caleb explained, before Essek could ask. “We found quite a number of things in the basement of that school, some…well.” His expression went dark, and not just because of the shadow overhead. “Many of those things we managed to release. Some, ultimately, had to be destroyed.” But then he gestured to the enormous architectural undertaking around them and added in a lighter tone, “Some things, though, ended up being rather useful. Like the, ah, look, over there—”

Essek blinked again, and this time spotted what appeared to be twelve hulking stone statues, moving slowly between a line of workers. Each had gait like rock grinding on steel, and were lifting whole logs like they weighed nothing.

“Guardian constructs,” Caleb said. “They were a nuisance to battle, but once de Rogna was gone, they went dormant and stopped fighting. We figured out how to pilot them later.”

Essek looked suitably impressed by this. He shifted his umbrella into his other hand.

“Really?” he said. “And are you now their master?”

“Oh no, nein,” Caleb quickly shook his head. “Honestly, it was suggested, but I…there was something that bothered me about the idea of having control of them. And not just I, but…it felt wrong to let any single person control a fleet of sleepless warriors. So Beauregard got creative.”

“Indeed?”

Caleb pointed to a wooden sign that was nailed into the ground a few feet from their path. A handful of workers was crouching next to it, carefully reciting what was scrawled across its surface. After a moment, to Essek’s genuine surprise, he realized they were practicing an arcane incantation.

“How do—”

“A pronunciation guide,” Caleb said. He was—yes, he was smiling about this. “We managed to translate enough verbal commands to make them usable for anyone who can read Common.”

“But…but…that’s everyone,” Essek said, hurrying a bit to catch back up. It took him some effort to tear his gaze from the sign. “Are you not…are you not concerned about this information falling into the wrong hands?”

“Ah, but if anyone can use them, then there is no problem. The playing field, as they say, has evened out. That was Beauregard’s idea, anyhow.” At the silence that followed, Caleb tilted his head and said, “Think of it this way, ja? A magic sword controlled by an evil person is not so dangerous if even a peasant can tell it to stop. What is the use of a weapon of war that listens to everyone’s commands?”

“Yes, but…” Essek struggled to find the right words. “Now…now…right, but now the sword is a, a, a butter knife! What would be the point of that?”

Caleb was quiet for a moment. Then he managed a trying smile. “That…depends on what you need though, no? Right now, what we are looking for is not war. It is toast. Er…that is, a metaphorical toast.”

“But…still, if that is the case, anyone could steal your constructs,” Essek said, somewhat subdued. “Should they not be guarded? As you would protect a prized tool?”

Caleb actually snorted at this. “If anybody attempted to do so,” he said, “they would receive quite an earful from the Chief Surveyor. They would not dare.”

And then Caleb turned, met Essek’s gaze, and it looked like he was waiting for cheerful agreement.

Neither response felt appropriate. Something about this still bothered Essek, almost like trying an ill-fitting sock.

“I think, ah, that I prefer jam,” he managed eventually. “On my toast, that is. And perhaps, a cup of tea?”

Blessedly, this elicited a chuckle from Caleb. “Of course, of course. That I can provide. We are quite close to the tavern, as is.”

And indeed, after only a few more minutes, they passed through a thin line of trees and arrived at the edge of a small, but bustling town.

“Welcome—well, welcome back to Feldwerin,” Caleb corrected. “Though this time, I expect, you will be staying longer.”

—

When the war ended, Felderwin Tillage had been left in a state of utter chaos. Purple worms had torn apart acres of land, fields had been razed by advancing soldiers, and scores of houses, stables, and shops had been burned to the ground when the invasion began.

And then, the Cerberus Assembly had fallen, and more information flooded the populous. They’d been told, virtually overnight, that the Archmages had been secretly using this town as a testing ground. They’d unleashed uncontrolled magic here for generations, tricking and abusing the townsfolk for their experiments, forcing a local lad—the widower—to work for them, and when people fell ill, they’d blamed it all on molded fruit.

Suddenly, the villagers felt quite foolish. And then, they’d started to get angry.

So it came as a genuine shock to Caleb that when the time came to build their campus, Veth had stepped forward and said it should be in Felderwin.

“But…they’d never agree,” he’d said. “Why should they?”

But she’d shaken her head. “They will.”

And so, the next morning, Veth marched through the village center with Luc and Yeza following behind, the Mighty Nein scrambling to keep up. She’d stormed up the stairs of the Town Hall, looked the Starosta dead in his eye, and informed him that everything was about to change.

All they’d need, she said, was a swath of land outside town, far enough away that it wouldn’t interfere with the calm that this village had been so denied, but close enough that it was still in the tillage. She’d told him, when he’d protested, that yes, there would be mages, but there would also be student mages, young, burgeoning minds that would spend quite a long time at the school. They’d be trained there, fed and housed and cared for, and eventually, once they grew up and graduated, when they looked back fondly on their younger years, it’d be in Felderwin.

Besides, she’d added, tapping the side of her nose, now the King would have to protect this place. After all, it’d be right next to the Empire’s arcane center, and wouldn’t it be nice to finally have some proper defenses? Not to mention, if you needed to borrow any of the bright young masons and stonecutters we’d hired, well. That could be arranged, easy.

Sometimes, she’d said, it doesn’t hurt to be on the map. Because then the world pays attention to what happens to you.

And then the mayor had said, Aren’t you dead?

And then Veth had informed him, I got better.

And so it was now, a few months later, that Caleb led Essek past the newly-rebuilt Brenatto Apothecary, toward the Glassy Grass Inn. It had become the go-to tavern for the Mighty Nein, not because they were unwelcome in Veth’s house, per say, but more due to a gentle conversation that Yeza had had with his wife about work-life balance after Caduceus had walked into the center of the shop during its busiest hours in nothing but a towel and a toothbrush.

After that, they agreed to at least sleep next door.

The bell overhead rang as they entered, though the sound was lost in the din of voices. Essek had barely shut his parasol before a burly man in an apron rushed past, carrying tray upon tray of drink and food.

“It’s gotten rather busy since we moved in,” Caleb explained. “Word got around, and apparently people quite like staying in the same pub as us. That, and old Littlebottle agreed to let our workers take meals and rooms at a discount. The barkeep.”

“Really?” Essek raised an eyebrow. “How generous of him.”

“Well, apparently he is grateful for the business. And, I expect, grateful that our project has kept his neighbor preoccupied. Apparently Veth and Yeza were responsible for quite a number of the scorch marks at the edge of his lawn.”

“Is that so?” Essek chuckled. “I find it easy to believe.” Then he added, as he watched Caleb wave to a face in the crowd, “It seems you have taken well to your new assignment. And life in this town.”

He was caught off-guard when he noticed the faintest coloring of Caleb’s ear.

“Oh, er…is that so? Have I?”

“Well, I…just meant it seems you have made friends with the locals. And you, ah, move through the village with purpose, and had quite a lot to say about your endeavor.”

“Is that—scheisse, was I annoy—”

“Oh! No, no, not at all. I just, er…”

They stopped in the doorway leading up to the second floor, laughter and conversation winding slowly all around them.

“I just meant, ah…it is nice to see you so relaxed,” Essek finished lamely. “Retirement from adventuring seems to suit you.”

Caleb seemed to relax. “Well,” he murmured, “I am glad you think so. Though I must say, my retirement has certainly been eventful.”

“Better still than the typical hero’s retirement, no?”

“Ha! Lucky for me, eh?”

They stood there for a moment longer, as if neither were sure who should go first. But after a short pause, Caleb stepped back and began rummaging through his pockets. “Here, ah, here, take this,” he said, and pressed a small silver key into Essek’s hand. “It leads to my bedroom, but you can rest there while I see about getting you a room. And some tea.”

Eseek turned it over, looped a finger through the cord. “Oh, but I can’t just leave you to—”

“No, nein, I insist,” said Caleb. “I do not mind—”

“Are you sure—”

“Of course.” And with the air of someone playing a trump card in a social encounter, he added, “After all, you have travelled quite a distance, my friend. Please. I will join you in a moment.”

—

The Mighty Nein ate their sandwiches peacefully in the meadow outside their tent.

Then:

“I thought he’d be wearing different clothes.”

“What?”

“I dunno. I just thought he’d look…less shadowy.”

“Like he wouldn’t be wearing that creepy mantle, or something?”

“Yeah! Like I thought he’d be in, like, summery clothes! Like a flowy shirt and regular pants and short sleeves and straw sandals. He is taking a break from being a spymaster, after all.”

There a pause as they pondered the likelihood of this.

“He…could be wearing that under the mantle,” Caduceus said.

“Sandals? Really?” said Fjord.

“But his skin, he probably could not wear those if he wanted to,” Yasha said.

“Hmm…that is a good point,” Jester conceded. “But still, all black? In the summer? That’s

“Not if he’s got, I dunno, ice under there,” said Veth. “What if he has a bunch of ice strapped to his chest?”

“Ice? Now, really…” said Fjord, but everyone else had started to ruminate on this.

“No stains,” said Beau eventually.

“What?”

“No stains,” she repeated “If there was ice, there’d be stains. From it melting, right?”

“Or he’d be—ugh, gross—he’d be leaking,” said Veth. “Like there’d be puddles underneath him and stuff.”

Three of them snickered delightedly at this. Then Caduceus passed around more juice, and more sandwiches.

—

There was a cat on the bed when Essek walked in, sprawled out as if it owned the place.

Disguised drow and disguised fey regarded each other for a moment. Then Frumpkin stretched lazily, and yawned.

It occurred to Essek, as he continued to stand in the doorway, that this might be some kind of test. Minutes passed as he struggled to find the right thing to say—this was a familiar, was it not? And then he realized that anything he did end up saying would probably come across as rather silly. He decided to err on caution and simply nodded to the cat before sitting down on a worn wooden chair.

It ignored him completely. Essek twisted at his sleeve.

And finally, by the Grace of the Luxon, there was a polite knock at the door.

“Come in, come i—Caleb, that is much too much food.”

“Nonsense,” said Caleb, who had closed the door behind him rather inelegantly with a foot. Carefully balanced across his arms were two wooden trays absolutely laden with breads, cheeses, sliced meats and fruits that Essek at a first glance couldn’t name. A third tray floated behind Caleb, supported by a faintly-shimmering Unseen Servant, carrying drinks and utensils.

Not to be outdone, Essek gave a faint smile and flicked his wrist with a flourish. The trays rose out of Caleb’s grasp and drifted toward the table.

“I had it,” but his former student was now smiling as well. “Though I have missed seeing an esteemed Gravaturgist at work.”

The food came to a gentle rest between them. “I have also missed showing off,” Essek said wryly. “It is hard to find someone in the Dynasty unfamiliar enough with Dunamancy to appreciate my skills quite as much as you d—you alldid.”

“We did make you teleport us around quite a bit,” Caleb chuckled. He picked up a small piece of bread and split it in two, offering half to Essek. “I do not think we ever repaid you properly, either.”

Essek examined the bread in his hands. “Well, if I remember the contents of your letter correctly, it is the world that should be trying to repay you. The Chained Oblivion? Really, Caleb?”

“Oh, ah…” The man actually had the nerve to sound bashful. “That was mostly an accident, as it were.”

“You…sorry, you accidentally defeated the Chained God? Is that what you are telling me?”

“Well, er, no, not exactly.” He picked up one of the small round fruits and held it between his fingers. “It was sort of an accident that we found it…or rather, we did not know what we were looking for.”

This sounded like the Mighty Nein that Essek knew. He motioned for Caleb to go on.

“We had been…following a dream of Yasha’s,” Caleb said. “She had received it from the Storm Lord ages ago, but with one thing and another, we had never had time to pursue this. There was…a place, an island in the sea, she had felt it was a place of great importance. We weren’t sure why, until we arrived and found…”

A place of starlight and iron chains, buried in the heart of a dead volcano. A chamber, a ritual-site, fading incense and chalk, ensnaring an obelisk and a shattered crystal and at its center, a pulsating, churning darkness—

A hole in reality, Essek would remember, lying awake that night. The bastards had found a hole in reality and then they’d jumped in—

And found themselves standing in a pocket dimension…or at least, that’s what they’d thought. The air swirled with dark mist, the sky alive and churning. The walls of the world seemed to lurch and expand and it was Caduceus who realized that the whole plane was breathing. Jester shifted them out, returning them to the chamber, and they began to pour through the notes left behind. They realized that someone had found a Divine Shackle, then turned it in on itself, re-directed the ritual, created a bridge that would grant them access to the very being of Tharizdun, the most ancient and chaotic of forces—

“But who?” Essek breathed. He held a gooseberry, though he didn’t know it yet. “Who was responsible?”

Caleb scowled. “They left their notes behind. Who else would it be?”

As far as the Cobalt Soul could tell, the archmages themselves had not originally been involved in any actual cult. But after Vence’s capture, and Tasithar’s transfer, a spark of interest had been ignited in the minds of some of the nation’s brightest.

“It is like your metaphor,” Caleb said. “Before, they were simply sailing on a boat—"

Essek hesitated. The horrible sourness of the fruit might’ve been muddying his concentration. “It is what?”

“Like they were sailing,” Caleb repeated. “And every so often, they could lean over the edge and skim the sea for knowledge from relative safety. But capturing the cultists had…inspired the Academy to instead, go for a dive. And so they dove, down into the deeps, plumbing the darkest tides for secrets. And of course, they ultimately encountered the monster of all monsters…”

From there, it had been a matter of getting the proof—about this, about everything else they’d done—into the hands of Cobalt Soul. But word got out, and whispers travelled, and more people than the Nein could ever have imagined rose up, demanded justice and retribution—

Essek remembered the reports he’d received on the morning of the fall of the Cerberus Assembly. The casualties had been extreme, but what happened afterwards, even more so.

“You arrested them,” he murmured. “The ones that survived, anyway.”

“And still, quite a few of them escaped,” Caleb sighed. “That is of course not even including the fact that not all of them were guilty enough to fully imprison to start with. As I understand, Hass has left to see the world, and Lord Uludan is still a diplomat for the king.”

Essek glanced at a slice of cured ham. He wondered if it would be enough to counter the taste in his mouth.

“With the…Assembly gone,” he said carefully, “there will not be a council of mages to balance the rule of the king, anymore. The nation has lost a powerful governing body and a source of great strength. What do you suppose this means for Dwendal?”

Caleb raised an eyebrow at Essek. “I certainly do not think the Assembly was doing much balancing to begin with,” he said, almost as slowly. “As for the King, well…the man is quite old, and very paranoid. He will be tricky to manage, and yet there are a number of good people surrounding him. In fact, the elimination of the Assembly could allow them to finally step up. That, and this nation has now witnessed a historic uprising of the people. For the first time in a long time, citizens are trying to make their voices heard. And unless the royal court wants more chaos, or to fall in the way that the Assembly did, for once, I think they will have to listen.”

Essek lowered his hand. He stared at Caleb. “But…they are just people,” he said, astonished. “How could they know what is best for the nation?”

Caleb’s expression changed, slightly. He was silent for quite a long stretch of time.

“My dear friend…they are the nation.”

—

“No,” said Fjord.

“But—”

“No, Jester. I will not let you tape ice cubes to my armpit.”

There was a pause. Then a huff.

“Fine, I’ll ask Beau.”

—

After lunch, Essek was shown to a room slightly farther down the hall.

“It will likely be some time before we will be able to move into the school grounds,” Caleb said, “so I recommend you make yourself comfortable here.”

Essek was given another small key, tied to a leather cord.

He felt like something needed to be said. Gods, if he could just figure out what.

“I, ah…thank you,” he tried. “For…lunch, for everything, the room, and, ah, if you need gold—"

Caleb shook his hand. “Nein, please, no. It is, as they say, on the house. More accurately, on the dime of the royal treasury.”

There was another hesitation. Essek sought desperately for a solution, but when nothing came, he sighed. And gave up.

“I, um…am sorry,” he said. “If I…made a statement that was…incorrect.”

Caleb studied his expression. Then, he seemed to sigh as well.

“A school is for learning, is it not? Maybe we will be surprised by who teaches.”

“Er…”

“I just mean,” Caleb murmured, “that we do truly come from different worlds. That are, in many odd ways, rather the same. I just hope it will not be too much.”

Essek was not a stupid man. He opened his mouth again, to protest, but stopped when a hand brushed against his arm.

“You should get some rest,” Caleb said. “Unpack, adjust to our time zone, relax. Then tomorrow,” and here there was the faintest hint of smile, “I will give you a real tour of the school. You should have a voice in some of our plans, too, for the curriculum and into the future. And,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “it will be better to have everyone around when we finish the story. Yasha does very good sound effects for the Chained Oblivion.”

There was another pause. Not nearly as tense, but still quite bewildered.

“She does…what?”

“You did not think that was the end of the story, did you?” Caleb grinned. “That we toppled the Assembly and the Maw that Devours just vanished?”

Essek recalled the other reports.

“Ah,” he said. “More the fool I.”

Caleb gave him a friendly pat. “Once a bridge is built, it goes both ways,” he said. “It is funny how often we wizards forget that.”

Then, in the warmth of the hallway, he nodded.

“Have a rest, Essek Thelyss. I will be down the hall. Let me know if you need anything.”

Then he nodded, and turned around, and left.

—

“Jester, I—oh gods, that’s cold.”

“Hold still, silly! You have to hold still.”

“But I—ah—oh, oh gods.”

—

And later that evening, alone in his room, Essek summoned an exquisite onyx chest. He popped it open, and slowly all his worldly possessions began to drift out. Clothes, papers, books and components slowly floated across the room, settling into the proper drawers or hanging themselves in the closet.

And then, Essek collapsed into bed. With a wave of his hand, a small mirror appeared.

It was black, made from polished volcanic glass and set into a twisted metal frame. It had been a gift, and as far as mirrors went, it was rather lacking, but—

He sighed.

It would get the job done.

—

[Part 1] - [Writing Tag] - [The Bail Project] - [National Bail Fund Network]

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

Indruck hunt nsfw!!! I'm so excited you're doing fills again, they're always so good!

Thanks so much, and here you go! Duck’s form is based on a Green Wrasse, and Indrid’s is based on a Flamboyant Cuttlefish.

Go along the trenches they said. It’ll be easy they said.

Duck’s been here for two hours, trawling the spot where the sea bed and reef give way to deeper water in search of black moon oysters. It’s courting season in Kepler, and if he can find a few he’s certain at least one of the two mers he has his eyes on will agree to a date. But at this rate, he’ll be bringing some of his model ships as his gifts for his first year of courting, and that’ll be embarrassing. No one wants to date a mer with such a boring hobby.

So here he is, far from where most reef mers would even think to come, searching for a shellfish notorious for it’s shadowy color. At least there aren’t any deep sea mers around to see him repeatedly get hissed at by the same eel because he keeps losing his bearings and checking crevasses he already searched. He’d rather not have an audience.

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

Indrid cannot believe his luck. Weeks of hunting, of hunger, with barely any food to be found, and now a tantalizing, green tail dangles near his hide away. No mer in these parts has such coloration, so it must be a very big fish indeed.

His foresight is half-obliterated, so he must rely on skill to earn his prey. He camouflages as best he can along the rockface, creeping along beneath the ledge where the tail keeps disappearing and reappearing. If he lunges too soon, he’ll miss and scare off dinner.

Almost...almost…

He pushes up in a burst of speed, grabs the tail, and propels back into his lair, his prey putting up a remarkable fight. He doesn’t notice his error until it punches him in the eye.

“OW!!”

“What the fuck?” The merman spins, lashing out again but missing him in the dark.

“I, I am so very sorry, I thought you were a fish!”

“I look like a damn fish?” His unwilling guest gestures angrily at his upper body.

Because his eyes are adapted to dark water, Indrid can clearly see the muscles in his arms, the round belly and charming face. Now he wants to sink his teeth into him in an entirely new way.

Oh, right, he’s waiting for an answer.

“From down here you did. I assumed all reef mers stayed far away, and thus missed the obvious explanation for the size of your tail. I, ah, am not the sharpest when starving.”

The wary, annoyed expression softens, “Ain’t there food down here?”

“Yes, but it’s fast, poisonous, or fought over, and I’d like to keep all my tentacles attached to me.”

The merman points at the cave ceiling, “The reef is just up there. We got plenty to eat.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t, they’d recognize me as a deep water mer and be frightened.”

“I could vouch for you. Assumin you don’t plan on grabbin anyone else.”

“Of course not” He flicks all his tentacle tips, trying to hide how hurt he is by the suggestion.”

“Then you can be my guest. There’s a festival tonight, so the grub oughta be good.”

“You mean it?”

“Yep.” He nods, black hair swirling around his forehead.

“Thank you so very much! I, is there something I can do to repay you?”

“Well…”

He mentally crosses all fingers and tentacles, hoping for an answer along the lines of “kiss me” or “hold my hand on the way there” and he flickers his lower body an appealing yellow to sweeten the deal.

“...you got any clue where to find black moon oysters?”

“Yes” he cocks his head, “why?”

“Wanna give ‘em as a present to some mers tonight.”

“Ohhhh” Indrid nods, understanding and trying to hide his disappointment, “a courtship gift. Of course, right this way…Duck.”

The mer starts, “How’d you-”

“-Know your name? Foresight, though it’s severely diminished right now. He smiles, holds out his hand, “I’m Indrid. Now, let us find you those oysters.”

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

Duck never expected a deep sea mer to be so chatty, but as they weave their way between rocks in search of their quarry, Indrid talks amicably about all manner of things, often swimming backwards so he can ask Duck questions about his life on the reef. Listens intently as Duck tells him about his time studying coral health, demanding details as they float across a deeper trench.

Still, Duck feels like he’s not carrying his conversational weight, and when Indrid peers into another empty crag he asks, “hey Indrid, what kind of fish only comes out at night?”

The other mer blinks his glowing red eyes, “What kind?”

“A starfish.”

A slower blink, and then Indrid snickers, “I didn’t know we were in the pun timeline.”

“Sorry, know it’s silly-”

“Why was the shark worried after eating a clownfish?” Indrid wiggles his tentacles.

Duck smiles, “no idea.”

“Because it tasted funny!”

He giggles, “that was awful.”

“Precisely!” Indrid beams, then pulls Duck flush against the cliff-face. In the darkness beneath them, he can just make out something immense swimming along the trench. Indrid doesn’t release him until it’s out of sight.

“Apologies, but there was a non-zero chance of that being an aggressive shark.”

“Glad you were here watchin my ba--holy fuck!”

Only Indrid’s eyes are the color they were a moment before. The rest of him, even his hair, is the same speckled grey of the rocks.

“Indrid that’s, that’s incredible! I know mers who can color change a little, but nothin like this.”

“It’s mainly for survival purposes, but I am glad you, ah, you like it” Indrid returns to his usual color, save for his tentacles, which flash pink on their way back to silvery-blue.

“Can you control it?”

“To a degree; some of it is subconscious expression of emotion, but much of the time I can manipulate it as I need. See?” He holds one tentacle out in front of Duck’s tail, matching it perfectly.

“That’s so fuckin cool.”

“I, ah, would be happy to show you some more” the pink flashes are back, “but first…” he pulses up to small ledge, slips three tentacles inside, and retracts them with a flourish a moment later, each hold a pitch black oyster, “let’s get you to your party.”

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

In spite of there being no timelines where Duck reneges on his end of the deal, Indrid remains nervous most of the way into town. Then the other mer stops, reaches into a stand of kelp and produces a scallop, “here, you were hungry when we met and you put off eatin to help me, seems only fair to get you a snack before you get there.”

Indrid grins, rips open the shell, and downs the mollusc in what he hopes isn’t a completely horrifying way. It’s been so long since someone shared a catch with him.

“Do you still want to see more camouflage?”

“Hell yeah.”

They pass the rest of the journey to the town square with Indrid changing color, the two of them laughing as Duck comes up with increasingly ridiculous things for him to match. He adds in extra effects, hoping to dazzle Duck, and he’s having so much fun he’s almost sad to arrive at the party.

Then he sees the buffet, and it’s difficult to be that upset. Better still, Duck doesn’t immediately leave him in search of his potential lovers. Instead he guides Indrid to a cluster of other mers his age. Juno, Aubrey, and Dani all welcome him into conversation and help him navigate some of the unfamiliar foods Duck gathers from the large stone tables.

Deep sea mer courtship is very goal focused, but up here the custom seems to be unhurried, as much a chance to catch up with friends as find a mate. There’s even dancing, which he’s drawn into when Aubrey coaxes Duck onto the dance floor and the merman offers Indrid his hand. They spin and flit about each other, Indrid initially taking care not to brush him with his tentacles. When it happens on accident and Duck responds by thwacking Indrid back with the tip of his tail, Indrid takes to touching him whenever the dance allows.

Since none of the reef mers swim screaming away from him, he and Duck even join in on the group dances. Indrid shows off, changing colors to match his partner because he catches Duck smiling whenever he does.

The first of Duck’s crushes arrives, though Duck stays, dancing, with Indrid.

“Are you supposed to wait until a certain time to offer your gift?”

“No. I, uh, I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never done the whole courtin thing before.”

“Understandable. Though if you ask me, I’d say you have a great deal to offer.” He nudges him with a tentacle. Duck takes a deep breath, then swims away after the other mer. Indrid hasn’t even made it to the table when Duck is once again beside him, saying they weren’t interested and would Indrid like to keep dancing?

He would, and they do, trading jokes and stories as they turn in slow circles around each other. They alternate between the dance and recharging with their friends until Duck’s other crush swims into view, having gotten to the party rather late. Duck’s approach is more confident, and Indrid encourages him along with the others. After ten or so minutes, Duck catches his eye and gives a thumbs up. Indrid returns the gesture and watches that stunning tail swim away.

Indrid stays, continues talking and eating with his new friends. He’s even approached for courtship twice, demurring both times. It’s not long before he regrets this choice, because his foresight keeps showing him flashes of what Duck is getting up to with his new partner and getting his hands and mouth on another mer might be a welcome distraction. He finishes the last of his meal, waves goodbye to his friends with a promise to come see them again, and swims home alone.

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

Duck hums as he swims over the edge of the trench, carved coral box in hand. Indrid left Dani directions for how to visit him, so Duck’s no longer concerned about swimming into the wrong cave and getting eaten.

The front of the cave is empty, and the scant light still filtering in doesn’t show him much beyond it, so he floats further and calls, “Indrid? You home?”

Red eyes appear in the dark, followed by flashes of pink and yellow, “Duck?”

“Didn’t see me comin?” He grins, swimming up to greet the other mer.

“There were only a few futures where you visited so soon after the party. Is something wrong? Does your new partner need more oysters?”

“Nope, came ‘cause I wanted to see you. Is, uh, is that okay?” Nerves creep up his tail; maybe Indrid was only interested in their exchange yesterday and not in him.

“Of course. I, ah, my lair is rather messy but if you come this way I have some lights.” He motions for Duck to follow him. As they swim deeper into the cave, bioluminescent kelp and algae flicker to life, revealing walls covered in elegant, detailed carvings. They turn left, coming to a room filled with yet more carvings, a large, comfy looking hammock, and a floor scattered with shells.

“You did all these?” Duck touches a lovingly rendered carving of a ray.

“Yes. They help me capture visions from time to time, or are simply images I enjoy.” That same light pink is coursing up through his tentacles and occasionally racing through his hair.

“Oh, that reminds me, here” Duck holds out the box, “seemed like these were your favorite last night, so figured you’d like some more.”

Indrid studies the crab rolls in their neat lines, “Oooh!” His tentacles wiggle, “thank you. That was very sweet of you.” He swims over to a small table, sets the box atop it, and then begins searching a rock shelf. “But I insist you share some of them with me, assuming you don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Uh-”

“Where are those blasted plates-”

Duck rubs the back of his neck, “Indrid? Is, uh, is that a yes or a no?”

The other mer turns, flashing bright blue, “To...oh, oh my, really?”

“Future just tell you I’m courtin you?”

“Yes. I, but I thought you made your choice last night?”

“That ain’t really how this works. I mean, I had a great time last night, might see her again, but I ain’t made any kind of choice about bein exclusive. Besides uh, I, uh, if I’m bein honest, mer I thought the most about last night and today was you.”

“Oh.” Indrid says much more softly as Duck swims to him and brushes his tail along a tentacle.

“It’s okay if you ain’t interested, I can back off and we can have dinnerAHfuck” he laughs as Indrid uses all available limbs to pull him closer with a delighted chirp.

“The answer is very much yes, Duck Newton.”

“Thank fuck” Duck leans in, kissing him eagerly as two tentacles tease up and down his tail.

Then he can’t see a fucking thing and Indrid curses, “Of all the time for my kelpalabra to die. One moment, let me find something so you can see.” He pulls back, red eyes and kaleidoscopic lower half the only thing in Duck’s vision, achingly alluring even as he mutters around the room.

“We, uh, we can keep it like this.”

“You’re certain? I thought you couldn’t see in these conditions.”

“Can see what matters.” Duck opens his arms and Indrid chuckles, swimming into them.

“I’m amazed you were not swarmed by admirers last night.”

“Flatterer” Duck kisses his cheek.

“I am being entirely truthful. You are so charming, and so very handsome…” Indrid strokes his face as his tentacles glide up his chest and down his tail, “mmmm, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you.”

“How, uh, sensitive are these?” Duck lets one tentacle curl around his fingers, brings it to his mouth for a kiss.

“About the same as my hands, but far more flexible.” Two tease just below his hips, his scales beginning to ripple and part at the stimulation. The surrounding darkness heightens each grope and stroke, his body having little to no warning of where the next touch might come from. His world is nothing but Indrid’s hands and tentacles on his body, that little voice and moonlight smile illuminated by the colors of his affection.

“Fuck, ‘Drid, this is so fuckin nice.”

Indrid hums, pulsing a warm yellow as he coaxes Duck open, kissing his neck and nibbling his ears. Duck winds his fingers into his silver hair, gives a testing tug and gets a moan in reply.

“Again.”

He growls, pulls harder as his cock emerges, scrapes his teeth up Indrid’s neck and discovers that makes him practically scream in delight.

“You wanna be in me, or should I fuck you?”

“Ah, beg pardon?”

“Wait, fuck, do you not have-”

“I have this” smaller tendrils emerge from beneath a fold between his front tentacles, “there isn’t really room for anything to go in, and while I can get some shape from it” he demonstrates by twining three into something close to Duck’s dick, “it is unlikely to be the method you’re used to. My kind mate by sort of, hmm, mushing them together? My, that sounds deeply unattractive when I say it that way.”

Duck licks his lips, “They look pretty damn dexterous.”

Indrid’s eyes glow brighter, “The are.”

“Get over here and show me.”

The other mer comes to him so forcefully they’re propelled back into a wall. Duck barely registers the collision, too busy moaning as tendrils curl around his dick, stroking and sucking so elegantly he’s pretty sure he’s never going to be satisfied with a blowjob again.

Okay, except for one form the mouth currently devouring his own with kisses. Indrid moans and squirms in his arms, tentacle and fingertips caressing him from cheek to tail.

“May, may I try something?” Indrid pants in his ear.

“Long as you don’t stop what you’re already doin, ohfuck,” He bucks his hips as more tendrils push into the slit under his dick, Indrid purring as they do.

“Ohhhhhgoodness, you feel wonderful Duck, please, please say we can do this again?”

“Damn, ain’t even made you cum and you’re already beggin for a next time?” Duck teases, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Yes, pleaseplease” tentacles tighten around him, trapping him against Indrid as the other mer frantically fucks him, “I’ll can make you feel so good, I want to, please”

“Mission fuckin accomplished” Duck yanks on his hair and Indrid yelps with joy, cumming inside him and across his dick. The orgasm makes him lose control of both his colors and his tendrils, meaning he shimmers like the inside of an abalone as tugs and twitches along Duck’s dick. The touches draw his own climax from him with a groan, and he buries his face in Indrid’s neck, mouthing kisses along it as he spills into the water.

Slowly, all tentacles and tendrils relax and withdraw, leaving only Indrid’s arms around him.

“You asleep?” It’s only half a joke, as Indrid is going limp.

‘Mmmhmm. A perfectly wonderful mer just robbed me of all my energy in the best possible way.”

“Heh, funny, most stunnin mer in the ocean did the same to me.” He swims them over to the hammock, guiding them down onto their sides as Indrid looks sleepily up at him.

“In that case, would the wonderful mer like to join me for dinner after we nap?”

Duck kisses his nose, nestles closer as Indrid’s tentacles shift to match his tail, “Yeah, he would.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay #mermay fills

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carelessannie · 4 years ago

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maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 5)

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Starker focus (Tony x Peter), minor WinterHawk, Winteriron, IronHawk, WinterSpider... basically everyone except Steve

After a few weeks of dating, Peter wants Tony to officially meet his pack.

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, WinterHawk sluttiness, fluffy traditional-style mating rituals (non-explicit)

---

Maybe it goes like this:

In Peter’s life, he can’t remember a time where he had to entertain for a guest. He knows he should have learned in high school, when most Omegas would have gone through weeks of household training after their first heat. But his circumstance was unique. His only packmate was Aunt May, and as a single, dominant Beta she had no experience with newly presented Omegas. Or subs for that matter.

Oh, and he didn’t present until a month before leaving for college.

So when he invites Tony to meet his pack, he relies pretty exclusively on Annie to get the house ready. She was trained by her pack Omega and knows exactly what to do to prepare for a first meeting.

Peter is in awe—

— and a little overwhelmed.

Annie is currently fluttering around the kitchen, tossing ingredients around to bake traditional mating pastries and cakes, and directing Peter and Clint around to finish last minute tasks.

“Did you light the candles in the living room, Clint?”

“Yes, Omega,” he responds, cheeky with the use of the formal title, and Peter would laugh if he wasn’t so stressed out.

“Peter, did you scent and nest the couches?”

He flushes a bit at the memory, “Yes, Omega.”

She must hear something in his tone, because she’s suddenly in front of him, hand on his chin, and checking his eyes. He realizes he’s trembling, and it takes all of his effort to maintain their eye contact.

“Clint,” she speaks, low, “can you take him to settle in the living room? I’ll finish up here, make sure you’re both calm and ready, okay?”

It’s barely a question, and Clint moves, immediately steering him away from the kitchen and into their temporary nest in the living room.

The whole room has been covered in their softest and most intimate bedding— pillows, blankets and plush rugs are laid over the floors and furniture to create the illusion of a full room nest. Peter has already spent almost an hour intimately scenting, rolling and rubbing on each item, filling the room with a heady pack scent that is working now to calm him. Annie has chosen candles to reflect their individual scents, so the room is now swirling with Caramel and Cream and Chai.

Clint swoops in and lifts Peter off his feet before settling in one of the nesting areas. Peter giggles, squirming in protest, as Clint moves the blankets around to get comfortable. He shifts to tangle their legs together, and Peter is dwarfed in the larger Beta’s hold.

Their eyes meet, and Clint gives him a devastating smile, causing Peter to laugh again. He snuggles closer, humming as strong arms squeeze tight around his waist.

“Clint?”

“Yeah, Petey?

Peter pauses, unsure how to ask,

“Are you— is it,” he takes a deep breath, sorting through his thoughts, “is there a chance you would ever be okay meeting Steve?”

He knows Clint had trauma with a pack Alpha before, and this has been an open conversation between the three of them since Peter has been seeing Tony, but Clint still seems reluctant to choose either meeting the Alpha or staying out of the mating process.

The silence stretches on, and he finally has to pull back and check on Clint.

He’s confronted with a carefully neutral face as Clint answers, “I don’t want to upset you, Peter.”

Oh, okay. Not a good start.

“You know I love you, right C?”

Clint’s face finally softens, and he looks back into Peter’s pleading eyes,

“Aw, sweet Omega, of course I do. And Tony seems like a great guy. Bucky too— you know I think Bucky’s great. I just… I need more time, Pete.”

This is how their conversation usually goes, and Peter signs, resigned, “Maybe if you just met him—“

“You haven’t even met him, ‘mega,” Clint interrupts, “how can you vouch for his character if you haven’t even met—“

“— because I trust Tony!” Peter raises his voice, “I know Tony and I are meant for each other, Clint. So I have to believe that I’m gonna be compatible with his pack Alpha, because even if— even if it’s just Tony for me, I’m destined to end up the center of Steve’s pack. So yeah, yeah I’m being pushy, Beta, because I’m selfish,” he grabs Clint’s hands and looks into his watery eyes, “I’m selfish and I want to mate you, too.”

“— Petey,”

“No, Clint, enough,” he shushes the larger Beta, turning in his arms and wrapping Clint around his back, “just hold me. We’ll talk about it later. Annie will kill us if I get worked up again.”

He feels Clint nuzzle into the back of his neck, scenting and kissing him tenderly. They lay in silence, slowly relaxing into each other, and listen to Annie moving around in the kitchen.

Clint reaches up, pushing his hair off his forehead, before he whispers, “For what it’s worth… I want to mate you, too, Peter.”

The sentiment almost makes Peter tear up, and he lifts Clint’s hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to his knuckles before resting their intertwined fingers over his heart. He lets his eyes drift closed, and is only half aware of his own purring before sleep overtakes him.

---

A few hours later, the three of them are drinking scent-boosting tea on the couch when Tony and Bucky show up, rapping a few brief knocks on their door. Clint just started warming up the grill for dinner, and Annie gives Peter an encouraging nod to answer the door.

He measures his steps, making sure not to run, and still manages to yank open the front door, startling both men on the other side.

Tony is already smiling, and god Peter forgot how enamored he is. He foregoes tradition for a moment and throws himself into waiting arms, breathing in Tony’s spicy, smokey scent.

Bucky huffs out a laugh, but Peter only has eyes for his Beta. He looks up into whiskey brown eyes, lost in his future mate for a moment or two longer, until someone from inside the apartment clears their throat. Peter flushes in embarrassment for being so distracted, and finally tears his eyes away from Tony, extending his hand to lead Bucky inside as well.

Tony keeps his arm wrapped posessively around Peter’s waist as they move down the hallway, and whispers, “You look stunning tonight, Peter.”

“Thank you, it’s just— Annie said. I mean… Yeah, thanks.” Peter stammers out, ducking his head down as Tony laughs.

“No, I get it, sweetheart. I’m really enjoying the robe,” he winks, and Peter takes another moment to objectively view the living room as they emerge from the hallway. It’s painfully intimate— both the atmosphere and their attire— with all three of them wearing traditional courting robes and flowers. Tony gives him an encouraging smile, so he forces himself to relax.

Time to introduce everyone.

He steps towards his pack, still facing Tony and Bucky, and speaks up, “Thank you for coming, it’s our honor to host you both tonight,” both men smile before Peter continues, “it’s custom to thoroughly scent for compatibility before the night continues, so if… if Omegas and Betas could be seated in opposite nests, that would, um—” he pauses, uncertain, and the rest comes out as a question, “—that would be best?”

“Of course, Pete,” Clint stands, making his way to the other side of the living room, and sits in a different nest. He makes a show of patting the spot next to him, “C’mon Tony, I won’t bite.”

Tony gives both Peter and Bucky an incredulous look, obviously not believing Clint for a second, before flashing a smile and walking over to the offered spot.

Confident and sexy, he can’t help but watch for a moment.

Peter shakes his head and focuses back on Bucky, who seems a bit lost— which is pretty understandable. He gives the other Omega a shy smile before lacing their fingers together, pulling him closer to the vacant spot in Annie’s nest. As Bucky settles in, Annie immediately shifts closer and places a strand of mating flowers around his head.

“Oh, what— I don’t—” he starts to object.

Annie raises her hands, cutting him off, “Everyone is wearing them tonight, got it?”

Bucky reaches up to inspect the delicate blossoms, and Peter is distracted again by the Betas in the other nest— Clint and Tony are both laughing and have identical flowers on their heads. Peter catches Bucky watching as well and they share knowing smiles. The other Omega rolls his eyes and finally relaxes into the nest.

He takes this as a cue to introduce them,

“Bucky, this is Annie. And Annie, Bucky.” and Peter gives a small nod of encouragement to Annie as he stands up to leave them, heading back to neutral space in between the two nests.

After all, it’s his job to keep this night from chaos.

There’s a low murmur as both pairs talk, but Peter raises his voice slightly to gather attention,

“Alright. Perfect. So... it’s traditional for pack Omega to scent all members first. And— and I’m technically that, so,” he shrugs, feeling a bit awkward having to explain the process, “hopefully this isn’t a surprise to anyone.”

With a few hums of agreement and a low whistle from Clint, Peter makes his way over to the Beta nest.

It’s very quiet as Peter walks, even and determined, across the living room. His mate’s eyes darken as he approaches, and he’s acutely aware that every eye is on them. Clint scoots a bit to the side to provide more space as Peter stops in front of their nest, extending his hand for Tony to hold.

“May I scent you, my Beta?” he asks.

Tony’s gaze is sharp as he answers, “Always, my Omega.”

Peter tries not to blush again as he carefully parts his robe down the center, pushing his legs through the opening, and placing a knee outside of Tony’s right thigh, and then left, before settling down onto his mate’s lap. The robe flows behind him to cascade off the front of the nest, and Peter watches as Tony drinks in the sight of his smooth legs and silky pink shorts peeking out from underneath.

As Tony is distracted, Peter seizes the moment to push his hands into Tony’s hair, tangling his fingers in carefully styled waves, and slowly tilts his own head back, exposing his throat.

“So sweet, baby,” Tony croons, sitting up taller to sweep his nose up the side of Peter’s neck, using a hand on the back of his head to guide the Omega in for his own scent.

It’s familiar, it’s so safe, and if the night didn’t have to continue, Peter would have been content to stay in Tony’s arms forever.

Instead, he pulls away, allowing one more deep inhale before shifting to settle on Clint’s lap, repeating the process.

He can tell Clint appreciates their combined scent, and the moment drags on a little longer until Tony growls, low, and settles a hand on Peter’s back. He practically stumbles across the room to Annie and Bucky— dropping in between the two of them as both Omegas latch onto his neck, grabbing him around the waist, greedy for the sweet mix of warm and sweet and spice as they add their own scents into the compatible mixture.

When he’s satisfied by the balance he can feel between the packmates, Peter withdraws from the Omegas, and encourages both Beta and Omega pairs to scent each other and mark the nest they’re a part of. He regrets not being included in this process, but it’s important for him to make sure there's mutual enjoyment and HappyContentPack saturating the air.

His attention is split between the two Betas— both of whom share a similar sense of humor and flirty carelessness in their interactions— and the Omegas— who are now almost horizontal in their nest, eyes closed, and purring. Both couples are lost in the moment, and it makes Peter hum in satisfaction, knowing that his own HappyContentOmega scent is joining theirs.

He clears his throat, waiting for all four sets of eyes to focus back on him, before continuing with the last tradition.

“It’s important that packmates feel safe with each other, so… for the final part, my packmates— Clint and Annie— will stay put, and the visiting pack— Tony and Bucky— will exchange places. This is a symbol of both intimacy and trust from our pack to yours,” he turns to look at Tony, “and from me to you.”

After his speech ends, Peter gives a nod of permission to Tony, and then to Bucky. Both men climb out of the surrounding blankets, and make their way across the room, only stopping briefly to exchange a kiss on the cheek.

Peter resolutely ignores the leering looks from Annie and Clint, as they’re all reminded of Tony and Bucky’s last kiss.

Horny packmates.

Underneath the flirty exterior, Peter knows Clint is nervous about seeing Bucky again— especially with how badly the last meeting turned out. Bucky looks equally hesitant, and slows down considerably when he approaches the nest.

Peter hears a quiet, “—this seat taken?” from Bucky, a laugh from Clint, before the Beta suddenly reaches up, grabs the smaller Omega around the waist, and yanks him down to sit on his lap.

Bucky yelps, flailing a bit, and Clint just laughs harder. Peter can’t help smiling as the two men push each other around, and end up closer and closer together, before leaning in to exchange scents. He shakes his head, dumb boys, and turns his attention over to Tony, who is—

Crying.

What?

Annie is seated across Tony’s lap, gently mopping up his tears with a tissue, as the Beta cries in her arms.

He immediately rushes over, “Tony? What… What happened—”

Tony looks up with a sad smile, and extends an arm for Peter to join them in the embrace. He climbs into the nest, moving only a few blankets around to keep his mate comfortable, and snuggles in closer to Tony’s side. Annie has a disbelieving look on her face, but just shakes her head when Peter makes a questioning noise, and Tony explains—

“My— my mother scents StrawberryOmega, too.”

Surprised, Peter turns to meet Tony’s gaze, which is incredibly soft and nostalgic. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment for his mate, but he has to ask,

“Is that… is that weird for you?”

“No,” Tony replies, immediately, “her scent is Strawberries and Maple Syrup, which is similar, but not too close.” He turns back to Annie and gives her a teary smile, even as he says to Peter, “I just didn’t expect your pack to feel like home.”

Annie probably rolls her eyes, but Peter doesn’t care. He throws himself into his Beta’s lap, distantly aware of the soft, desperate whining noise he’s making, focusing instead on being wrapped up tight in his mate’s arms.

“Oh baby. Shh, sweet Omega— you're doing perfect,”

He clings tighter, burrowing deep into the warmth of his Beta and his nest. Gentle fingers stroke through his hair, down his back, until he finally turns over. He doesn’t let himself float for too long, aware of his responsibility to both packs, and wiggles out of Tony’s arms, enjoying the way it makes him and Annie laugh.

“Thank you, Tony,” Peter says, sitting up and meeting Tony’s eyes, “I want to be your home.”

Tony takes both of his hands, “Anything for you, baby.”

Peter feels his eyes flutter closed at the endearment, threatening to pull him back under for a moment, but then—

“Ow! What the—”

Annie shushes him as he rubs the spot where she pinched his arm, and points across the room, hiding a laugh under her hand.

Peter turns to look, and groans at the scene in front of him.

Bucky is on top of Clint, holding his wrists above his head with one hand, as the other disappears between their bodies. The two men are kissing, trading urgent presses of lips and tongue, and breathing quiet moans while their hips move together in a slow, hot rhythm.

Tony, the absolute traitor, is laughing hard and falls back into the nest, gripping his tummy and rolling in amusement. Annie joins in, and Peter huffs out his irritation.

“Boys.”

Nothing, just more laughter and a moan.

“Boys!” Peter yells a bit louder, earning him a, “Mm yes, right there, Omega,”

Incredulous, Peter stands up, “Clinton Barton and James Barnes, you separate this instant!”

With a gasp, the two men fly away from each other, and Clint immediately reaches to cover where he’s obviously hard in his jeans. Tony and Annie still haven’t stopped laughing, and the hilarity of the situation suddenly hits Peter, and he tries not to smile. Bucky looks absolutely smug, and points a finger at Clint,

“Peter, your Beta is a slut—”

— and they all lose it.

---

Later— after the laughing dies down, after Clint and Tony argue about the best way to grill hamburgers, and after their stomachs are full— both packs find themselves piled into a large nest in the center of the living room.

All five of them are enjoying the stillness, the warmth, and the combined, compatible Pack scent.

Peter knows there’s something missing, and he pulls Tony closer,

“Tony,"

“Yeah, baby,"

“... do you feel like— like something’s missing?"

Tony kisses his forehead and hums in agreement, “Not something, Omega. Someone."

Oh. And that makes sense.

“I’ll meet him."

Peter startles at the sudden interruption from Clint, and turns to find his packmate staring at them, expression determined and resolved.

“Clint, are you— are you sure? We can still wait—"

Clint shakes his head firmly, “No, Pete. You’re right: we are missing someone. And as much as I might hate to admit it, I need to meet this Alpha."

The pack grows silent, shifting uncomfortably, unsure how to respond.

“You could come meet ‘im first, just the two of you, to talk and shit,” Bucky suggests, reaching out to squeeze Clint’s arm.

There are a few nods and sounds of agreement, so Peter lets himself settle back into Tony’s embrace as the conversation naturally shifts away from the impending meeting.

As he lets himself float, he hears one, whispered word from Tony,

“Soon."

#starker #d/s fic #fluff #winteriron #winterspider #winterhawk #ofc #ironhawk #bucky barnes #peter parker #tony stark #clint barton #poly fic #pack fic #peter x tony #maybeitgoeslikethis #MiGLT #omegaverse

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years ago

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After the MONSTER that was Arc 2, time to wrap this up!

RED SCHOOL AU/UA STORY/HEADCANONS ARC 3!

This is hopefully going to wrap up Red School, so buckle in.

We begin in Rhian's 'office' as the two trios explain what happened: The Beast just burst through the trees and began attacking, out of the blue just like that.

He asks if there's anything else they noticed, and Cal mentions the red eyes and the fact he looked like he drowned. Rhian finds that odd because The Beast was never the best swimmer.

Tedros also mentions the incident before with Nicholas. Agatha vouches for him, saying she'd probably be dead, if Tedros didn't stop him, Sophie giving Agatha the stink eye as she inches closer to Cal, who fights a cringe.

Regardless, Rhian mutters how it can't be and tells them all to just be careful. Mare, however, notices his unease and knows he's BS-ing.

Either way, Rhian excuses them and watched them leave, though he does ask Agatha and Sophie to stay, to answer some questions. Tedros glances back at them as he leaves, giving Agatha 'please stay' eyes until Maven pats his back and says that, if he wants, he can watch Cal and Maven train, so he can help Maven kick Cal's ass next time they fight.

Back with the girls, Sophie despairs at her princes leaving, but Rhian clears his throat and asks if either have had anything to do with The Beast ending up in the state he's in. Agatha immediately objects, saying she couldn't have because her punishment in Good is a scolding and being locked in her room. He asks Sophie and she shakes her head; she just got her hair butchered and was on her merry way. Rhisn remarks that it's funny because a lot of the Nevers stating that The Beast disappeared around the same time Sophoe was sent to thevDoom Room, so either she's lying or someone else decided he needed to swim with the fishes. Someone more vain than she is.

Neither speaks on it, so Rhian excuses Sophie, though warns her to not do anything fishie with Cal; neither school has forgotten her misadventures with courting Tedros.

He tells Agatha to stay, however, because he wants to ask her about that question she asked Lucas, about leaving with the Silvers.

Semi-embarrassed, Agatha admits, that, yes, she did ask that question. Even if her only way out is a fairytale ending, maybe the Silvers are that ending, even if it's a loophole ending.

Rhian commends her for her cunning, but affirms that won't help. If she wants to go home, she'd better be ready to strap into and study like her life depends on it, because, in a fairytale, it will.

Agatha nods and asks him one question, just one this time, not a bunch of mini questions and one big question. If he knows how everyone's story ends, why not just tell them. Rhian shakes his head. He doesn't know when how storoes end, but if he told everyone theor endings, then the ending will change. They'll either strive for more than what their old ending is or become unmotivated and not strive at all.

With that, Agatha leaves, giving a glance to the Storian before doing so.

When she catches up with Sophie, Tedros, and the others, she finds ths boys having a three-way fight, Maven and Cal trying to roast each other while Tedros blocks with some magic and his sword.

Sophie watches them and drifts off into fantasy land while Mare and Agatha talk about what happened, since Sophie couldn't care less.

She explains that The Beast disappeared a little while back and no one's seen him until today. And people have been getting weird lately, which Mare gets confused by.

Even while he fights, Tedros explains that students have been getting red eyed and violent, attacking each other for, really, no reason.

Intrigued, Cal wonders if it's a apell gone wrong, even asking of their magic can get that powerful. Agatha shows him that they can do a lot of things, i.e. mogrify into animals, use spells to refurbish plants or for self defense. She's seen students do some crazy stuff, but admits that she doesn't think a fellow student could do it.

Maven muses that it all seems weird, but does admit that maybe the School Master has something to do it.

This grabs both Sophie's and Tedros's attention, Tedros noting that Agatha and Sophie were thought to be in the wrong schools, but really might not be a mistake(Sophie disagrees with this) and Sophie admits that if he put her and Agatha in the schools they're in-by 'accident'- maybe he got bored and cast a spell to throw in a new adventure, and brought the Silvers to join in on the fun.

Agatha's not certain, but knows one thing: they need to be careful.

They all agree and Tedros contemplates getting the jump on Cal, which leads to Cal grabbing him and throwing him to the ground, just enough to surprise him, nothing more.

As they get back into it, Agatha asks Mare a question, quietly so Sophie doesn't stop her: Is there a chance Mare can get Agatha and Sophie on their ship and take them away from the school? In return, she can help Mare get back home to her family.

Mare almost snaps at her, but Agatha explains that Mare isn't the only one that wants to go home.

She'll think on it, asking if Agatha can really help, and Agatha admits that she's not too sure, but she'll still try.

With an exchange of 'thank yous,' they watch Maven and Tedros duke it out with Cal both reffing and instructing them as Sophie watches, the two glad to be watching rather than participating because Cal is a brutal teacher.

From here, we get something of a time hump woth shenanigans like Evangeline and the other High House children observing the classes, Mare being hounded by Evergirls that offer her a change of makeup, because her foundation will clog her pores, Cal traching the Everbous more efficient combat techniques that won't get them in trouble, and even the main six hanging out, though Cal makes it clear to Sophie that he's flattered, but he's betrothed, so his hands are tied.

There is a close call when Agatha and Mare are having lunch together and run into Sophie, who's pissed at losing another prince, and not only realizes that Agatha's been cautious around Elara, but also that Mare and Cal are very close, for people betrothed to someone else. She pits two and two together and races off to a teacher, any one will do, but Agatha and Mare give chase, Mare being faster and catching up to Sophie and tackling her to the floor and practically shouting that Sophie had better not tell anyone, or else she'll be killed, along with herself, Agatha, both their families, and anyone remotely close to them, and being dead means no princes, so she'd better wise up.

Sophie agrees and they let bygones be bygones.

Mire time passes, and we get another red mist possessed fight with a wolf, in which Sophie jumps in to help, kind of, by mogrifying as a large bird to distract the wolf. They report it once again to Rhian, who's getting worried about the occurrence of this mist, but talks to Mare is a slightly altered version of this conversation you can read right here.

More time passes, and we get more Tagatha, some Marecal, some Evangeline being a bitch, some friendship, and, most importantly, Maven and Elara still talking about their plan, which is on hold because things are fishy and Elara's feeling a little less like herself. (Hmmmm?)

I know I'm rushing through all this, but trust me, you'll get why in a second.

Fast forward, and it's been about a month since the Silvers left Norta. Tibe, Cal, and Maven realize how long it's been and decide they need to head back.

Rhian understands, and offers them a proper send off to show the rest of Norta: a ball in the School for Good to show the unity of Norta and the School for Good and Evil. The rest of the High Houses, 1 child accompanied by 1 chaperone, have already been invited and preparations are already being made.

Tibe is incredibly flattered by this and thanks Rhian for such an act, though the School Master thanks Tibe in return for showing him what's beyond the Endless Woods.

From her place a few feet back, Mare notices Elara standing at the window and fighting a coughing fit as she stares back at Mare, red blood dripping from her nose.

I'm sure she's fine, BECAUSE WE CUT TO THE BALL!!!

It's just as extravagant as what happens in the or original comic, though at first the Silvers are weary until they warm up and relax.

We also get a sort of glare/stare off between Maven and Elara after she reads Mare's mind and Mare glaring at Tibe after his speech of peace and cooperation, and he simply gives her a look of 'what're you going to do about it?'

(Turns on a megaphone)WE DO NOT GET THAT SHIRTLESS WRESTLING MATCH BETWEEN CAL AND TEDROS! THIS IS A FORMAL EVENT, SO THEY SIMPLY TALK AND EXCHANGE NICETIES!(Puts the megaphone away.)

In a scene of set up and pay off, the sides begin to dance and have a good time, though Sophie tries dancing with Cal, but ends up her Hort, who actually emells nice for a change, but she's pretending not to notice because she wants to be with Cal.

Mare and Maven talk about this whole journey and admit it'll be a little sad to leave when the ball is over. Mare spots Agatha and Tedros in the fray, sees them smiling and happy, and agrees. It will be sad, but, as Maven points out, they're visitors. They always had to leave.

With Rgian and Tibe, Rhian asmits that this was possibly the most entertaining revel he's seen or had in a very long time. Tibe asks if it's two or three years, as a joke, and Rhian admits it's been half a century since the last GOOD revel, like one he'd go to and have all over again because of how fun it was.

It weirds Tibe out, but he notices something else that actually freaks him out: Elara's gone.

Back on the floor, Hort glares at Tedros as Lucas and Ptolemus have a muttered conversation about smelling smoke and Ptolemus thinking there's a bomb somewhere. Lucas disagrees; some of the students might be crazy, but none of them would openly try regicide.

The two spot the red mist, Hort noticing a second later. Rhian sees it, too, and shouts at all three to get away from the door.

Too late!

All three get possessed, Hort going into his Man-wolf form as Lucas and Ptolemus simply decide to rip and tear EVERYONE IN SIGHT.

Tedros tries taking care of Hort, but gets yeeted in the process, as Cal takes on Lucas and Evangeline tries to snap Ptolemus out of it.

The entire ballroom goes to shit with students and Silvers going off on each other as the red mist possesses them. Cal, Maven, and Mare are all fighting for their lives and wondering what the hell is going on, but quickly deduce that this is what's been bothering the school since a while ago.

Now why aren't Tibe and Rhian doimg anything? They're fighting they're own fight, Rhian with his magic and Tibe with his Burner ability; he was going to use hus sword, but Rhian told him not to because they couldn't have a body count.

Tibe demands to know if Rhian had anything to do with this and Rhian snaps if it looks like he did, gesturing to the students with wide arms and a panicked look.

Getting overwhelmed, the trio decide, very reluctantly to make a break for it, getting stopped by Ptolemus and Hort.

Good thing Evangeline decudes to be a good person and lend a hand before they attack her instead.

Cal shouts for her to come with, but Evangeline yells back that he'd better not die because he wouldn't run.

They leave just as they see Evangeline get swarmed by red mist possessed Silvers and students.

Agatha, Sophie and Tedros did escape, but it's not shown so we build tension😈

The RQ trio run out and get seperated, Cal chased by Lucas, a strongarm, and Hort, Maven chased by a couple wolves, and Mare chased by Elane, the coven, and Sonya.

We cut back to Rhian and Tibe, the former noting the fact that the mist is moving faster than he thought, and is stronger than before, as he heals a student who got knocked out cold. Tibe asks where his sons and Mare are, but Rhian says they should be fine. They're capable and are close with each other.

Tibe agrees and asks what they should do, seeing what's becoming of the students and Silvers. Rhian states that there's no time to get to his office, so he needs Tibe to be his shield as he heals as many prople as he can.

Tibe asks what's in the office, but we cut to Cal, before we get the answer. He's running through the halls of Good, and avoiding any runners(I know they're called zombies, but when I think 'zombie' I think of walkers from the Walking Dead, and these mofo's don't walk that much) he can, hiding behind walls and in classrooms to do so; it bugs the hell out of him, but he's not beating up any females and schoolchildren.

When the runners are gone, he slips down the hall and scoffs at the fact that almost everything he's looking at is candy and is both insane and a hazard, especially when he sees that bits and pieces of the wall are missing. (Really wonder which Evergirl did that one?)

Cal sneaks down more halls, but stops when he hears someone running down the next hall, crouching behind a wall. The footsteps slow and stop, also behind the wall.

After a minute, and with a head shake, Cal sparks up his hand and shouts as he wheels around the wall.

Maven yelps and falls back, covering his head; 6'3" of pure muscle with a killer instinct and fire powers, you'd have to have balls made of an allot made of iron, steel, and tungsten to not be afraid that jumping out at you from behind a corner.

They see that neither has the evil red eyes and reunite, hugging and sayimg they're glad the other's safe before asking where Mare is. Maven thought she was with Cal and Cal thought she was with Maven.

Good thing I bring up Mare because she's sprinting around the corner, leading Beatrix, Anadil, Tristan and Nicholas down the hall. No time for reunions because Lucas and Dot are right behind them, Dot casting chocolate onto the floor so no one can run while Lucas harpoons anyone he sees.

Yeah, time to go.

Like before, the students are unfortunately left behind, but this time, when they run up to Merlin's Menagerie, it's Mare who wants to go back and help them, but Maven pulls her outside as Cal slams and welds the door shut.

She yells that they could have saved them, but Maven argues that there wouldn't have been time.

They're all silent for a second, about to shake off what happened, but all get defensive again when they hear a twig snap, Cal holding out a blazing hand as he demands for whoever's out to show themself.

SURPRISE!!! The SGE trio is alive, though Tedros has some scratches from Hort on hus arm and chest.

They reunite again, glad everyone's alright, including Sophie, who gets a, 'Yay, you're alive🙄, happy to see you, too, now stay focused' from Cal as they see what's become of the school.

Yeah... Everything is shit, but as they qonder what the next plan of action should be Maven notices a bunch of red lights appearing in the School Master's tower, which Mare points to, and they agree they need to find a way inside.

They sonewhat argue on who should go, noting the airship/blimp/whatever aircraft available used to bring the other High House children and the fact the SGE trio can mogrify, but before they get a solid plan, runners burst outside, forcing them to run towards the aircraft.

Cal and Tedros fall vack every now and again to keep the runners back, buying them a couple minutes at most, but Maven runs into Mare, who's standing with a look of pure fear and despair on her face. The airship is too far for them to reach and is getting mauled by stymphs, who shred it and tear it down.

Thank goodbess Agatha comes up with a new plan by leaping off the roof and grabbing a stymoh, which has some rope caught on it. She makes it crash back onto the roof and saddles up-though, it'smore bare-backing here- as she explains they can ride the stymphs to the tower. Maven shouts that she's out of her mind, but Mare's on board because they have no other options and more stymphs are coming, some being normal and hollow eyed while the rest are pissed and red eyed.

Tedros kicks back a mist possessed Ravan and agrees as he and Cal race toward the rest of the group.

So there are three stymphs, which lead to them forming groups of two, and before Sophie can dream again, Agatha grabs her, pulls her onto a Stymph and takes flight, Mare and Maven following and shouting for Cal and Tedros to hurry up because theirs is taking off without them.

They jump for it and while Tedros manages to get on its back, but Cal isn't as lucky, instead having to grab its claw/foot and hope for the best.

His job's about to become harder because Hort, still in Man-Wolf form, leaps off the menagerie and bites onto Cal, around and slightly above his ankle.

Cal shouts and almost lets go before Tedros grabs his wrist. Cal apologizes abd kicks Hort off him, which not only makes Hort fall, but also makes the bite worse than it already is.

Don't worry, Hort lands safely on a tree a greenie summoned and got back inside the school.

The group makes it a good distance toward the tower, but get ambushed by mire red mist possessed stymphs that make them crash through a window on a lower level of the tower.

Everyone gets up and gets their bearings, but quickly have an 'oh shit' moment when they see the bite Cal got. They all wonder if he's going to get possessed, but Tedros doesn't think so, having seen how people get possessed, which is by the host 'giving' the red mist by making the person "inhale" the mist, and by inhale I mean the mist goes up their nose and into their mouth and down their throat, which leads to their possession.

Mare backs his play, having seen the same happen with Nicholas and Tristan, and they conclude that Cal's safe, as long as he doesn't bleed out.

Mare acts quickly and tears off parts of her dress to use as a bandage until they can get a proper healer, and Tedros flips out at the fact she's Red; Hort scratched her up too, and when Tedros asked earlier, she simply replied that it wasn't hers.

Regardless, Maven and Mare help up Cal and continue towards the tower until they reach Rhian's office, Cal and Tedros staying behind as lookouts so Sophie, Agatha, Mare, and Maven progress and see what or who is causing this all to happen.

Surprise, it's Elara, who's über possessed and writes with the Storian as it tries continuously to get away.

Mare's surprised by the fact Elara's been possessed, but is still surprised to see the Storian moving of its own accord.

They quickly form a plan, and convince a very disturbed Maven, who agrees, despite his instincts telling him not to because that's his mother and he still loves her.

They plan to dogpile her, but Cal and Tedros get attacked by Dovey, who's also possessed. Cal may has standards, but Tedros kicks Dovey's feet out from under her before they rush into the office, Cal limping a little.

It gets everyone else's attention and Mare and Tedros got right into attack mode. Too bad she deflects them like flies and casts spells and Maven, Sophie, Cal, and Agatha, to subdue them.

Elara, possessed, tells her to stop, because they're injured enough to do nothing, so Dovey simply magics them all to the floor.

Mare asks who this is, the person that isn't Elara, and why they're doing this.

Rhian, who the spirit(who we all know is Rafal, though his identity wouldn't be known as of yet) refers to as his darling, dimwitted brother, is foolish if he believes there can be such a thing as peace in times like these, where the Schools for Good and Evil can really be united and stay united with the introduction of the Silvers and their powers. Stories aren't meant to be peaceful, there must be discourse, and there can't always be happy endings.

Tedros argues that for every Good ending, there's an Evil ending that follows. Everything has to stay in balance, that's how it's always been.

Rafal scoffs and tells him he's more of a fool than he realized, if that's really how he thinks.

Maven's turn to ask a question, out of panic and emotions: Why Elara, of all people?

Rafal admits that he's glad Maven asked and leaves Elara's body and possesses him instead, which is painful.

'Maven' stands and Rafal explains that with the students and the Silvers of Norta, he had a lot of people to choose from, from the broken and empty Maven to the one-tracked thinker that is Cal to vain, selfish, beautiful Sophie to lying, prideful, foolish Tedros to Agatha and Mare, who are both eager and desperate to return to the dirt piles they called home, possessing each of them as he explains before returning to Elara, who tries crawling away before she's possessed again.

Rafal explains very sharply that the Queen was the best candidate for his plan, having seen how power hungry and rutheless she is, and sneers that he had tried to reach his goodie two shoes brother, but the two trios kept screwing it up for him.

Mare asks if he's going to kill them, and Rafal uses Elara's whisper ability to torture Mare into silence before her raises a hand, finger and palm filling with black magic as he dare her to guess.

With a quick apology to Maven, Cal tackles Elara/Rafal to the ground, and Dovey prepares to shoot a spell at him. Tedros shoves her just as Rafal backhands Cal off.

Before any more damage can be done, Maven pulls Elara off Cal, Rafal knocking him back with magic. Mare shoots some lightning at him, demanding he return the storian(he'sbeen holding it this whole time), as Cal and Maven stand with flaming hands, and their battle begins.

Meanwhile, the SGE trio deal with a possessed Professor Dovey, who cries at them that she's sorry and how they need to run as she casts a spell at them, one they dodge in time before anyone gets singed.

Thinking quickly, Agatha tells Tedros to give her and Sophie time, to defend them with his word, since he isn't the best with magic.

He does so, though Dovey fights back barehanded.

Seeing this as life or death, and finally putting her Evil to good use, Sophie tells Agatha to stand back and sings, summoning wasps, locusts and hornets to the tower and whistling them attack Dovey.

Back with the RQ trio, Rafal uses magic to fight off Cal and Mare, throwing them into a wall before approaching a weak and slightly injured Maven, grabbing his throat and picking him up, calling him weak and saying it's no wonder Tibe chose Cal to seat the throne and not a child like Maven.

Mare, who's been sneaking forward, grabs Rafal and knees him before electrocuting him(don't worry, Maven's fine). He casts a spell to the wall, grabs the cape Elara's been wearing, and magics out of there instead.

Mare gives chase with Agatha, Cal, and Maven behind her; Sophie and Tedros stay behind to keep Dovey busy.

The chase ends on the roof with Agatha catching up to Mare to assist.

Rafal ain't having that and uses Elara to control Agatha, who casts numerous spells at her and chases her around the roof before one hits her in the chest, sending her to the edge of the roof.

Cal calls for them both, but Rafal smirks at him as Dovey snatches him and pulls back in the tower.

Back on the roof, Rafal watches Mare dangle a little and saying she would have made a lovely fairytale, if only she hadn't interfered. He then grabs and commands Agatha to finish the job and make Mare fall, tightening his grip when she refuses.

Through the possession, Agatha cries and apologizes, but Mare does, too, because she electricutes them both, making Agatha and Elara fall back, amd forcing Rafal to drop the Storian.

Mare falls back and grabs for it, Agatha screaming and falling after her, much to the shock of Cal, Maven, Tedros, Sophie, and Dovey.

They both fall, disappearing into the mist for a second before the mist fades and the two rise, Agatha having mogrifed into a condor or a vulture as she carries Mare, who holds her claw and she holds the Storian.

They pick up Elara as she begins to come to before landing in Rhian's office, reuniting with everyone, and crying while doing so, but the boys won't admit it.

Outside, the mist falls. Silvers, Reds, Evers, and Nevers all drop and shake out of their haze. In the ballroom, Hort shifts back into a human and groans as he pushes himself up, Rhian handing him his cloak and saying he's alright, and will be okay. Tibe watches everyone come to and turns to Rhian, who says he knew they could do it, referring to Cal, Maven, Mare, Sophie, Agatha, and Tedros, and explains that regardless of which side it is, or who wins, there's always a happy ending.

Back with the two trios, they stop hugging and watch Elara cough and gag, red smoke spewing out of her nose and mouth until it takes the shape of Rhian, who charges at all of them.

The Storian stops him and, in its own words, tells him to get lost.

As the sin rises, Rafal vanishes, though retreats into the woods, leaving them all in shock and awe.

We get something of a montage of the group reuniting with Tibe and Rhian, everyone getting healed, the group hanging out in the infirmary, even as Hort apologizes to Val for biting him, but Cal tells him it's gine and shouldn't worry about it, Tibe commending Cal, Mare, AND MAVEN for their efforts, which is a shicker for both Maven and Mare, the Storian reporting to Rhian, and finally, the group, Tibe, Rhian, and Dovey confenting Elara, who's in Silent Stone manacles.

When told to explain, she states she was possessed, that jealousy had gotten the better of her. It started off as pleasant conversation, but soon, the voice in her own head started speaking of something that she had to refuse. Little did she know, Rafal is a narcissistic ass and took control of her. Rhuan asks what she means, and she responds that she remebered him talking about balance and the futility of appealing to both sides, speaking of how his brother was a fool and was never good at learning his lessons.

Rhian tries to pull the 'I don't know this spirit' card, but Sophie agrees, saying Rafal spoke of Rhian very poorly when they confronted him.

Slightly ashamed, Rhain admits that, yes, the spirit was his brother, who lost the war and died, and yes. By war he means the one that took place centuries ago.

He had tried to keep the spirit under wraps by using spells and charms around the school, but figures that something must've happened to one of the charms that allowed Rafal's spirit to return.

The gears in Cal's head start turning, but Rhian has Elara freed, much to the dismay of all the fandom, and commends all of the group for their bravery and efforts, saying the Woods is indebted to the Silvers, though more specifically Cal, Maven, and Mare, who admits that Tedros, Agatha, and Sophie deserve some credit, too, as they would've been minced meet without them.

Tibe thanks them, and says in return they can have anything they want, excluding Cal or Maven or Mare(pulls out the megaphine again for Sophie) BECAUSE THEY'RE BETROTHED(puts the megaphine away).

Agatha's about to take Tibe's offer amd ask if he can take her and Sophie home or to Norta, but stops when she sees Tedros struggle to keep smiling, Sophie waiting for the final blow that they're leaving Tedros and Cal behind forever, and Mare, who's just waiting to see where this goes.

She asks if they can keep writing to each other, seeing as how the Silvers are leaving tomorrow.

Tibe and Rhian agree, Rhian admitting he can show them a technique for sending letters, but on the condition that only Tedros, Agatha, and Sophie can write letters and no one else.

They agree.

Time jump to a creak as the group hangs out one last time, Mare and Agatha sitting on a log as they watch Sophie find wild flowers to press for her letters and the boys just goofing around, Tedros and Maven swimming as Cal struggles to get in the water, though to be fair, Maven is knee deep in the water.

Mare asks Agatha what made her change her mind about taking the trip back, seeing as how all she wanted was to go home.

Agatha sighs and ecplains that she still does, but, having heard what Rhian said, she now fears for what would happen if she and Sophie left. The other Evergirls aren't the best with magic and if the schools are taken over again, the Silvers aren't there, and Agatha and Sophie are in Gavaldon, they're all basically fucked. Besides, it would actually hurt Tedros's feelings, which Agatha admits as she watches him and Maven drag and throw Cal into the water and laugh as he scurries out, screeching at the top if his lungs.

Mare notices and asks Agatha if she has athing for Tedros, having noticed their little glances at each other and how Tedros gets when he's with her.

Agatha, flustered, counters Mare gets the same way with Cal and Maven, so she's no better.

Speaking of Tedros, Cal, and Maven, Mare and Agatha watch as Cal carries a flailing Maven over his shoulder and wrangles Tedros into his other arm before throwing them into the water, Tedros not really minding, but Maven screaming because the water's freezing.

Mare admits that she's pretty sure Cal's going to miss having Tedros around, at least, but Agatha reassures her that if Mare's a Red with powers in the Endless Woods, then anything's possible. The SGE is for fairytales, after all.

Time jump to the next day. Mare visits her room and falls back onto her bed, letting it swallow her up so she's stuck when someone walks into her room.

Agatha asks if she needs help and Mare accepts, letting Agatha pull her up, before the two hug; they've only known each other alfor a little more than a month, but they're friends, damn it.

Outside the school, everyone exchanges their goodbyes, some crying and some trying not not to cry because Silvers don't cry.

Tedros plays it cool when he says goodbye to Cal, holding out his hand and leaving his other hand resting on the hilt of his sword, claiming that he's looking forward to the next time they meet, so he can kick Cal's ass next time they spar.

Cal, upon seeing how shaky Tedros's hand is and how glassy his eyes are, ruffles his hair instead and reminds him that they can still write to each other. That's enough to make Tedros crack and hug Cal, who obviously hugs back.

Sophie says goodbye as well, to both Cal and Maven, saying she hopes they're happy with their betrotheds. Maven asks if she's finally got the point of what betrothed means, but Sophie reminds him to be careful, as she could always send a spider in their letters. Cal remarks that it wouldn't be very Good of her, but does tell her to stay out of trouble, as much as she can, at least. Sophie only folds her arms and dares THEM to try being good when attending the School for Evil.

Tibe and Rhian exchange their goodbyes as well, Tibe thanking the School Master for his hospitality and Rhian thanking Tibe for sending the Swift and the Eye a while back; he can't remeber the last time things were so entertaining at the school.

The Silvers all take thier seats in their carriages and wave goodbye to the students and Rhian, though Tedros, Sophie, and Agatha sort of run after the carriage Cal, Maven, Mare, and Evangeline are in, because they're teens and will miss the presence of their new friends.

They wave back, but Cal's smile drops as he gets to thinking about what Rhian said, about the charms around the school. As Evangeline, Mare, and Maven talk, Cal starts putting the pieces together and the realization he has makes him feel sick to his stomach.

When they board the ship, he tells Mare and Maven immediately:

When they first arrived, the Swift or Eye must've moved a charm, which allowed Rafal to take over.

Rafal appearing was a direct result of the Silvers.

Maven peers over Elara's shoulder to see her smirking at him, whispering to him that they need to talk again, but this time it's more important.

The three stare at the Endless Woods as they leave, the scene zooming in on the woods until we find an engraved rock on the ground, which Sophie picks up.

She hears a whisper in her ear as Agatha asks if she's coming back to the school or what, Sophie looking between her and the rock she found.

AND THAT ENDS RED SCHOOL! Holy shit! I did not expect this to take as long as it did, but I just turned a 100 page comic into a full fledged book, so of course this is long as hell.

Ibrelly hope you guys enjoyed this, I never thought I'd be doing this and get it done. And if Victoria Aveyard, Soman Chainani or Joel Gennari are reading this, THIS WAS JUST A FAN THING BECAUSE I GET BORED WITH MYSELF, PLEASE DON'T BE MAD AT ME!!!😫🙏

Anyway, thank you so much for reading, amd I hope you enjoyed!!!!!

#red queen #school for good and evil #red school #mare barrow #agatha of woods beyond #tiberias calore vii #tedros of camelot #maven calore #sophie of woods beyond #tiberias calore vi #elara merandus #sge tedros #sge agatha #sge sophie #au #ua #cal calore

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years ago

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Where’s the Baby?

So I finally posted a part 2 to Coming Home. I have linked it, if you missed it. Though you probably did as I posted it a while ago.

I might work on more parts to this if you like it or if there’s something you’d like to see.☺️

—————

Stepping through the door to the townhouse brought Azriel a different sense of comfort and happiness than walking through the door of his and Elain’s cottage, despite that though, he still had to pay certain people a lesson in the training room. He had Luka in his arms as they rounded the corner to the sitting room. It was difficult to let his baby go ever since he’d returned home. Feyre and Rhys, were snuggled together on the sofa listening to whatever nonsense Cassian was spouting from where he was perched on the arm of Nesta’s chair while she read, unbothered by her mate’s bullshit. Mor was drinking a glass of wine, no surprise there, on the floor as she annoyed Amren, who was trying to put together yet another puzzle.

Mor squealed when she saw them in the doorway, even though Azriel knew she had scented them the minute they got within a few feet of the house, and was instantly making a grabby motion for Luka. He reluctantly handed him over after placing a quick kiss to the boy’s cheek, listening to his delighted giggles. Turning to his High Lord and Lady he gave a small nod and moved to stand behind them.

Cassian was clearly ecstatic to have him home, grinning from ear to ear as he asked “Care for a drink, dear brother. Rhysie just got a new batch in and I can vouch that it tastes wonderful.”

Nesta, without taking her eyes off of her book, reached over to pat Cass’ thigh. “That my love, is because you’ve drunk a whole bottle every night since he bought it. If you do so again tonight, you’ll be sleeping outside.”

His brother quickly shut his mouth, pouting as he stared wistfully at his nearly empty glass of liquor. Azriel couldn’t help the roll of his eyes.

“I’ll do a taster in a moment Cass, but first, there’s just one thing I need to do.” As soon as the last word left his mouth he banged the High Lord and Lady’s head together.

“Azriel!” his wife shouted. She’d gone slightly red in the cheeks and was looking at him sternly. He would deal with that scolding later, she was beautiful when she was angry and could always be soothed by his clever hands and tongue, before she was begging for something bigger.

Cassian was howling with laughter and nearly fell off of the chair, Mor had an astonished look on her face, Amren was smirking and Nesta had finally put down her book. It was difficult for Nes to be interested in much, so he felt quite proud in grabbing her attention. Meanwhile there were two sets of eyes glaring up at him.

Rhys was the first to recover, healing Feyre before himself as he said, “What the fuck was that for Az?”

“That was for sending me away on a ridiculously long mission and making me miss my son’s first steps.” His High Lord turned sheepish and guilty then, as if he had known already what he had caused and had most likely been punishing himself since. “As for you,” he pointed an accusing finger at Feyre “you know exactly what you did.” He said it with a blush, trying to push away the thoughts of how sinful Elain had looked in those leggings.

The High Lady of the Night Court just gave him a coy smile, and turned back to watch as her nephew pulled on Auntie Mor’s hair.

“You both owe me a few hours in the training room as payment, no holds barred.” He wouldn’t ever use even half of his full power against his family, but he felt some kind of sick satisfaction to watch as they gulped. He turned away from them then and began walking back over to his wife, but just before he got to her side, there was a quiet beat of tiny wings and Azriel turned in time to see his son disappear into shadows.

It took a few seconds to register what had happened but then Elain let out a small sob, calling out to Luka, and kicking everyone into action. Feyre began winnowing through each room of the townhouse, Rhys reached out with a tendril of power searching for any little thing and Az had stepped into his own shadows to search, while the rest searched all of the little nooks and crannies. When he stepped back out, everyone was back in the same room and he pulled Elain into his chest as Mor gravely shook her head at him.

“His shadows must be different to mine, I can’t see him anywhere.” Elain sobbed harder at that and so he just squeezed her tighter.

Rhys held a pained look on his face as the girls gathered their coats, planning on checking the gardens. “I can scent him but there’s no specific place, and I can hear muddled thoughts that don’t make any sense at all. It’s almost like he’s masking himself.”

Nesta spoke to her sister now, but he wasn’t totally sure his wife was paying any attention. “You’ve taken him to the gardens since he was born El, he might have gone somewhere he knew best and felt most comfortable. We’ll find him.”

Just before anyone could make it even three steps to the door, there was snap in the air and there were vague shadows gathering before Cassian was yelling out in pain. They all turned to the commander abruptly, stunned silently at what they saw. Luka was now sat atop his brother’s shoulders, pulling on fistfuls of long dark locks as he squealed “go’choo ass!” followed by a fit of giggles as Cassian held onto his chubby little legs. Elain let out a relieved breath, much like the rest of them, and proceed to translate baby talk at their confused faces.

“He says ‘got you, Cass!’ I think someone has been in the room too much while you boys have been discussing sneak attacks and strategy.”

Cassian finally mastered his astonishment at being bested by a child and pulled his nephew down from his shoulders and held the boy up in front of him. “Got me huh? That was quite a clever trick, little one, so much like your daddy.” And then he threw him up in the air, before taking him off to the kitchen, finding him his favourite soft biscuits no doubt. Cassian missed the awed look Nesta gave him as he left.

Azriel turned to Elain as the rest soon followed the sound of blabbering, baby and soldier alike, and cupped her face in his palms.

“Thank you my love, for blessing me with such a mischievous little boy. There’s never a dull moment with you, dearest.”

If he’d been drinking during her next words, he surely would have choked.

“I want another one.” She said it as if she’d been thinking on it for a while, and with a hint of nervousness, like she was scared he would say no.

“Are you sure? Luka is only just nearing a year old Ellie.”

“But girls are much easier. A sister may calm him down, and even give him a sense of responsibility as he grows older.” His wife smirked slyly at him before continuing, “Besides Feyre said they’d watch him tonight, to give us some alone time since you were gone so long.”

He leaned in and nipped at the point of her ear and whispered, “Naughty little temptress.”

He felt the shivers wrack through her body as he grabbed her hips and winnowed them home faster than he ever thought he had.

—————

Want more parts of there’s something you wan to see? Just let me know and I’ll do my best to get them out:))

ags: @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll @stars-falling @cirieael @verifiefangirl @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @silver-flames @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @b00kworm @kvi-arts @rhysandhlcor @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @judexcardanxgreenbriar @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @slightly-sane-fangirl @tanaquilpriscilla @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares

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argylemnwrites · 4 years ago

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Why Are We Still Waiting? - Chapter 1

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, about 21 months after that epilogue, about 8 months since the prologue)

Word Count: ~4400

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: A new member of the family arrives, and both Drake and Riley reflect on how much things have changed over the past 3 years.

Author’s Note: Let’s try this again, shall we? Sorry for the delay between the prologue and this chapter, but I’m much happier with the character arcs I’ve got planned now, and I think you all will enjoy the story more, too. To catch up on this series, you can check out the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment masterlist (link in bio).

It was a quiet night in the Kensington neighborhood of Brooklyn. Anderson was curled up in his armchair, dozing lightly after his evening walk. The TV was on, the eleven o’clock news about to start any moment, and Drake was settled onto the couch, ready to watch, no matter how much Riley teased him about being “an old man” for still using the television to get his news. She was stretched out on the couch next to him, her toes tucked under his thigh. She was finishing up her work for the day, reviewing the twitter buzz for the reopening of a restaurant that hired the PR firm she worked for after a video of the former head chef going on a racist tirade surfaced. It was boring, average, and incredibly routine. It was the type of evening Drake enjoyed the most.

He knew Riley saw nights in like this as their “catch up” nights, but honestly, Drake looked forward to them a lot. Sure, in the more than two years he’d lived in New York, he’d come to find many things he loved about the city. The variety of food available at hole-in-the-wall restaurants was amazing, and the portion sizes and prices were always right. The mind games and backstabbing of court were replaced with direct, blunt friendships with Luke, Sunil, Caleb, and Omar, men he’d gotten to know at some of his different temp postings before he got hired on as a permanent employee at the law firm three months ago. And sure, it’s not like he had some great passion for reviewing and cataloging court filings and documents, but it paid the bills. And no one in his life judged him for it.

After Riley had earned her degree, she’d talked a lot about the two of them starting to save up for him to go back to school, researching which universities would take some or all of his previously-earned credits. But at some point, Drake realized that wasn’t really something he wanted. When he’d been younger, leaving Cordonia to get a Bachelor’s degree had felt like a way to establish himself as his own person, independent from the pressure of Court, separate from Liam. But now, he lived in a different city. He had a fiancée and a steady job and his own life already. He didn’t need a degree or a university experience to gain that independence.

And truth be told, with the variety of office jobs he’d held when he was still temping, he was pretty convinced that any career opportunities he could gain from having a university degree would not be jobs he actually wanted, or at least not ones he wanted any more than what he had now. He didn’t want to toil away at some corporate bullshit, striving just to inch up that ladder to get that next promotion. Plus, it turned out he was about as well-suited for office politics as he’d been for courtly politics, which probably shouldn’t have been a surprise. Additionally, if he went back to school, they would have to pay for six semesters, not just two like they’d had to for Riley. Earning that degree just seemed like a total waste of time and money.

Instead, they were slowly saving up for a variety of things these days. Their real honeymoon, not their would-be honeymoon they went on after they postponed their wedding. A road trip out to the West Coast. A bigger apartment for when they had kids. In all honesty, it turns out that he didn’t so much care what his job was. He wasn’t like Liam who found purpose and satisfaction from his work. Nor was he going to be like Maxwell and turn some zany endeavor into an honest-to-god career writing made-for-TV movies. And he did not have anywhere near the skill set and connections that Hana had, allowing her to open a international bakery chain that turned all its profits into disaster relief donations or grants and low interest small business loans for women in impoverished countries. If his job was able to allow him to take care of those he loved, he was happy enough. Taking care of his family and spending time with them was always going to be the most important thing to him.

His family was on his mind often these days. Savannah was just over two weeks from her due date, and Drake was excited to actually get to know his niece or nephew from the start this time. He and Riley had a trip out to Cordonia scheduled next month, soon enough after the due date that they would get to meet the baby early, but not so early that they would be totally unwelcome visitors. Riley could only get one week off, but Drake was staying for an extra week after she left to spend a little more time with his niece or nephew. He figured it was Savannah’s way of trying to make up for all the time he missed with Bartie when he was little. Regardless, he was looking forward to meeting the second baby Beaumont.

In general, life was just good at the moment. Honestly, things had been good for a while. It was a feeling Drake had never imagined experiencing so consistently. But his life was stable, he knew he and Riley were on a good path, and he had a handful of close friends, both in the city and in Cordonia. His job was tolerable for the pay he earned. He really didn’t feel like he could ask for much more. So he watched the news with a smile on his face, as Riley sat next to him, replying to the occasional tweet.

By the time the newscast got to weather, Drake was yawning. He knew it would just provide more ammo for Riley to tease him about being old, but he couldn’t help it. It was a weeknight, it was late, and he got up before she did.

“Is it bedtime at the retirement home?” she quipped almost on cue, her eyes not leaving her phone screen as she nudged him with her foot.

Drake just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. You coming to bed soon?”

Riley shrugged. “Not right away. In a little bit.”

He nodded as he stood up, dropping a kiss to her forehead as he passed on his way to the bathroom and bedroom.

“Wait, you forgot your phone,” Riley called out. He spun and saw her extending her arm back over the arm of the couch toward him, her eyes still glued on her own screen. He stepped forward to grab it, but it started buzzing in her hand, clearly startling her as she let out a little yelp and brought the phone forward to see who was calling.

“Why is Maxwell calling you at… 6:25 in the morning?” she asked, quickly doing the time zone math.

He just shrugged as he took the phone from her and swiped to answer the call. “Maxwell, what are you doing up?”

“Break out the cigars! It’s a girl!”

It took Drake a few seconds to mentally catch up to Maxwell’s statement. “Wait, you mean Savannah-”

“Had the baby? Yup! Just under 3 kilos and screaming up a storm,” said Maxwell with a chuckle, “They’re still deciding on a name, but I think it’ll be Caroline Annabelle Beaumont. At least that’s what they were leaning to when I stepped out to give them some privacy and give you a call.”

“I thought someone was going to call me when she went into labor?”

“Well… Savannah kind of forbid anyone from calling you. She said that you would just worry too much and would be blowing up her phone when she needed to be focused on other things. She pointed out that it wouldn’t really make a difference, either, with you being in the Big Apple.”

Drake shook his head and sank back onto the couch. “Unreal.”

“Hey, I vouched for you, man! I told her that you would be fine, but her word was kind of final, you know? Given the situation and all. Anyway, she promised she’d give you a call when it was all over.”

“So why are you the one calling me then?”

“Ouch, I’m hurt. I thought we were best friend roomies!” Maxwell said with a ton of dramatic flair. Drake could practically picture him clutching his shirt in mock pain.

“That’s not…” he started with an eye roll, “What I meant was, why isn’t Savannah calling me to share the news herself?”

“She… well… she had to be rushed back for an emergency c-section.”

“What?” Drake felt his heart rate pick up instantly, even though he knew in his mind that whatever had been the danger was likely resolved at this point.

“Yeah… I had stepped out to the hallway with Dad when they were checking to see how, er… dilated she was, when suddenly the midwife was calling out ‘Cord!’ and in an instant there were dozens of staff running into her room.”

“And you’re just now telling me?” Drake growled out. He felt Riley’s hand on his knee. He knew he should probably put the phone on speaker so that Riley could hear more than one half of this conversation, but he was too focused on not missing any details to risk pulling the phone away from his ear.

“It all happened so quickly. One second she was joking with me in between contractions, the next she was being wheeled out of the room and a nurse was explaining to Bertrand the gear he was going to have to put on to go into the OR. Before Dad and I could even figure out what was going on, Bertrand was back and told us it was a girl.”

“He left her alone during everything?”

“Apparently, the only risk was to the baby, not to Savannah, but since she was attempting natural labor, they had to knock her out, I guess? Anyway, he was with her when she woke up, holding their little girl. I don’t know, the details kind of went over my head, but everyone is happy and healthy now!”

Drake just let out a massive sigh as he ran a hand over his face. It was a lot to process, but he didn’t think Maxwell would have told him all this info and then lied about Savannah and the baby being okay. He sometimes still felt strange, choosing to live so far away from his sister and Liam. He knew it wasn’t rational. He had certainly been more supportive to Savannah through this pregnancy than her first since he actually knew she was pregnant this time, but part of him felt guilty anytime something major happened and he wasn’t right there.

They were thoughts he didn’t like bringing up with Riley, because he wasn’t sure how to phrase it so that it didn’t sound like he resented her for the fact that he lived in a different country. He just had this feeling it would come across that way, when that wasn’t how he felt at all. But trying to work through the storm of emotions that bubbled up whenever something major happened to his friends or family in Cordonia when Maxwell had called to just let him know he had a niece was probably not the wisest decision. So, he swallowed his emotions down and focused on the good news. His sister had a little girl and it sounded like everyone was fine now.

“Well, tell Savannah and Bertrand congratulations and that I’ll call them in the morning here, alright? And thanks for calling me to let me know.”

“Of course! It’s my duty as part of our uncle brotherhood!”

“Don’t think for a second I’m going to start using that phrase, Maxwell.”

“I’ll convince you yet; you’ll see.”

Drake just shook his head as he said, “Bye, Maxwell.”

“Bye, Drake. Send my love to Riley. And prepare for a barrage of photos from yours truly.”

Drake placed his phone on the couch next to him and let out a sigh before facing Riley. Her phone was now tucked away somewhere as she stared at him, eyes wide and full of concern.

“What happened?”

“Savannah had the baby. A little girl.”

“What had you upset?”

“There were some complications, but he says everything’s fine now.”

Riley snaked her arms around him and gave him a little squeeze. “I’m sure it is. Is he gonna send some pictures?”

Drake nodded, and Riley curled up fully next to him on the couch, leaning her head against his shoulder, waiting for the photos of his niece. Their niece. Kind of.

He glanced down at the ring on her left hand that rested on his knee. Not for the first time, he wondered if they made the right call postponing their wedding for Savannah’s sake. It didn’t feel fair, that Bertrand and Savannah had it all - married with two kids - while they had put plans on pause. And sure, both Savannah and Bertrand had thanked them profusely. But watching as they moved forward with their lives while he and Riley had to plan and save and budget all over again just left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Sometimes, it felt like he should have just told his sister just how insane her ask was. He and Riley would have been married for almost eight months by this point. Maybe they would be talking about starting their own family. But deep down, Drake knew that nothing good came from playing the “what if” game. So he tried to just soak in the moment, at peace and at home with Riley, taking in pictures of Savannah’s new baby. He was happy, his sister and her new baby were fine, and his life was steady. He couldn’t really ask for anything more, could he?

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

Riley kicked her legs against the exam table and tugged her sweatshirt a little closer as she checked the time on her phone again. Dr. Mehta wasn’t running that late, but Riley was just a little anxious about this appointment. When she’d called to schedule her next depo injection, she was surprised that she’d been booked for a longer appointment with Dr. Mehta herself, not Val, Dr. Mehta’s nurse. She wasn’t sure if something was wrong or why this was happening. All she knew is that she needed to get her depo before their trip to Cordonia. It would be too late to wait until she got back.

She knew Drake was excited to get back and see everyone, as well as meet his new niece, Caroline. But, truth be told, Riley always found it a bit strange being back in Cordonia, even more so now that Hana had moved to London full time. Even though she’d been a nobody in New York for over two years, she still got recognized every time she and Drake had been back there. Last visit, they’d somehow even attracted enough attention that The Ruby Rise, one of the tabloids there, had run a piece speculating they had come back to enter into some sort of thruple with Liam. The whole thing had been a total mind fuck. Being back just always felt a little bit like stepping into a time capsule or a portal to this very weird time period of her life, one where she ended up grabbing Drake and bolting for the exit as soon as she could.

She supposed that wasn’t an entirely fair comparison. After all, it’s not like she considered her time in Cordonia a negative one. For the most part, she’d had a fun experience, and most of her closest friends came from that time in her life. But it still felt weird, returning to the world of balls and galas and courtly politics where she’d been on her best behavior for months. Now that she wasn’t formally a part of that circle, she didn’t hold back from swearing or snarking when she was there. It always caught at least a few people off guard and fully scandalized Bertrand consistently. Olivia had remarked at Savannah and Bertrand’s wedding that the potty-mouthed, bitchy version she was finally fully seeing was somehow more and less annoying at the same time.

Two sharp knocks jolted Riley out of her thoughts. She turned her head to the exam room door as Dr. Mehta entered with a smile, a clipboard in her hand.

“Sorry about the wait,” she said with a smile as she plopped down on the stool by the desk and rolled over to sit in front of Riley. “And you don’t need to be up there if you don’t want to. We just need to chat.”

Riley frowned at that, but Dr. Mehta must have noticed that, because she let out a little chuckle. “Nothing bad, I promise! I just wanted to talk to you about your contraceptive options. Honestly, I should have brought this up at your appointment back in December. I just did my math wrong when I was reviewing your chart then.”

“I’m really happy on the depo, doctor.”

She gave Riley a little smile as she said, “And I’m glad. But unfortunately Depo Provera is only safe to use for two years. And we’ve reached that point.”

Riley felt a wave of panic rush through her. “I can’t go back on the pill! I was always terrible about remembering to take it.” It was the truth. Back years ago, she’d been awful about remembering to take her pill, and it was almost never at the same time of day.

“That’s fine. You aren’t my only patient who struggles with that, I promise. That’s why I wanted to talk about other long term options for you. I’m assuming no plans to try for pregnancy in the next couple of months?”

“God no!”

She laughed at that. “Just making sure! I think for you, either an IUD or an implant are going to be the best options.” She passed Riley a couple of pamphlets and went over the relevant details, side effects, and benefits.

“So, if you want to think about what you want and give my office a call in the next couple of days, we can get you in next week,” Dr. Mehta concluded.

Riley shook her head. “I’m traveling out of the country next week.”

Dr. Mehta tilted her head back and forth a couple of times, then checked her watch. “Well, I doubt we’ll be able to get you in for an IUD placement this week, but if you have a little time now, I can place an implant today.”

So, maybe a half hour later, Riley found herself walking out of the OBGYN office suite, a thick bandage wrapped around her bicep, pleased that she was set for birth control for the next few years. Not only was it one less thing to worry about, but it felt like the sort of thing a responsible adult did. After living so long with no consideration for the future, flying by the seat of her pants, diving into massive decisions without a second of thought, she knew that times like this, where she planned for her long-term, represented a decent amount of progress.

It was strange, in a way, to be consistently thinking about the future. For so long, her life had been just her scraping by, hoping to claw her way into a slightly better situation. Getting to go and live with her mother again when she was in a shitty foster home. Getting to go and live in a foster home when her mother relapsed hard or when she had a shitty, creepy dealer as a boyfriend. Getting a new job that would pay more. Always scrambling, never dreaming beyond her next move.

But now, she had a white collar job that paid her a college graduate salary, she had a nice apartment, and she lived with her dog and her fiancé. No one would guess that she’d lived off food stamps and free school lunches and had bounced around from couch to couch and then from foster home to foster home. She lived the life of a well-adjusted woman, and that meant considering the long-term, not just the short term. And today she’d done just that. She felt responsible and capable. It was a nice feeling.

She’d been all ready to brag about her very mature decision, but when she got back to their apartment, things were chaotic. Anderson was bouncing off the walls, and Drake was livid on the phone with the airline about their upcoming flight, so she took out the dog, and by the time she got back, Drake basically had dinner on the table. All thoughts about her birth control were pushed out of her mind through dinner and some heated hands of poker, until she was getting ready for bed that evening. She was tossing her sweatshirt into the hamper and Drake was by the dresser he’d painted lime green for her. As she got undressed, he caught sight of the bandage on her arm for the first time.

“Riley, what happened?” he asked, darting over, eyes locked on her left arm as he sank down on the edge of the bed to inspect it closer.

She couldn’t help but smile. His reaction was so predictable. “Nothing.”

“But your arm…” He gently traced his fingers over her bandage, as if he would find some evidence of some horrible injury on her, something he somehow missed and needed to correct.

“New birth control. Bandage comes off tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay.” He still seemed leery and continued his inspection of her arm. “Why’d you change? Was something wrong?”

Riley shrugged. “My doctor said that I had reached my limit for depo. Besides this one lasts three years. Seemed mad convenient.”

Drake’s fingers stopped their path with her words, his eyes jumping from the bandage up to her face. “Three years?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else, just stood up, walked back to the dresser, and started rifling through his drawer.

“What?”

“It’s nothing, Liu.”

“Clearly it’s something,” she said, joining him by the dresser, forcing herself into his personal space until he made eye contact with her again. “You’ve never given a shit what I’ve done for birth control before. What’s up, Drake?”

He shook his head a little before returning to rifling through the drawer, flipping through old t-shirt after old t-shirt. “I told you - it’s nothing. Since you’re the one who has to deal with any side effects or whatever, it’s obviously your call. Have you seen my blue Cordonian football shirt?”

She let out a sigh. “Don’t change the subject.”

He took a moment before he responded, closing his eyes for just a second and taking a deep breath. “It’s stupid.” He opened his eyes again and gave his head a little shake, his eyes still glued on the drawer. “I just… I don’t know, I guess…”

“You want kids within three years.” She finished his thought for him, knowing without a doubt that was what he was struggling to tell her.

Drake finally looked up at her and shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I have a timeline or anything, but… I don’t know. Three years is a long ways off, you know?”

She did know. “I agree; a lot can change in three years. In fact, three years ago, you were just some rude asshole who clearly thought I was a crown chaser.”

He rolled his eyes at that before quipping back, “I just didn’t realize someone recklessly impulsive enough to hop on a private jet with a couple of guys she’d known for less than 24 hours could survive to be your age. It was really a compliment, me assuming you at least had a goal in mind.”

“When did you realize that I was just flying by the seat of my pants and clearly had no plan whatsoever?”

“When you told Olivia you were going to slap her. That degree of lack of diplomacy just can’t be found in someone who knows how to become queen.”

“But you still thought I was going to be queen at that point.”

“I mean, I just assumed you were going to stumble your way into the role, but do you really want to get into why I thought you would be queen?”

She shook her head, laughing lightly as she placed her hands on his chest and nudged him backwards to their bed, straddling his lap as he sat down on the end. “No, I think the less said there, the better. Besides, we both know I would have been the world’s shittiest queen.”

Drake opened his mouth to respond to that, but Riley didn’t give him a chance, leaning in and kissing him. After a moment, he deepened the kiss, sliding one hand to her shoulder and running another through her hair. But a few seconds later, he pulled back slightly, his hand sliding over the bandage on her arm. He stared at it, tracing his fingers over it again and again.

“It’s an implant, Drake. I can get it removed if for some reason we are ready for kids in two years or whatever,” Riley said, sliding her fingers under his chin, redirecting his eyes from that damn bandage back to her face. “It’s not a big deal, okay?”

He swallowed roughly, but then nodded. “Okay, Liu.” And then his lips were back on hers, his hands working under her tank top, sliding it up bit by bit. She rolled her hips down against him, ready to move on from their conversation. She could think of far more enjoyable ways to spend the rest of their evening than the minutiae of her birth control choices after all. And as they tumbled backwards onto their bed, she tried not to think about the fact that Drake avoided touching her left arm for the rest of the night.

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