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peeterparkr · 4 years

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jaundiced & surreptitious; Anthony Bridgerton

sham, pride and illicit affairs | fic masterlist

read part one here read part two here read part three here read part four here

summary: you once loved each other, your hand belongs to him but it’s promised to another.

jaundiced: affected by bitterness, resentment, or envy. surreptitious: kept secret, especially because it would not be approved of.

word count: 8.3k (sorry I like writing)

pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader

warnings: anthony is an idiot, this is really idiots who are lovers, like genuinely they’re so stupid. poor benedict has to deal with him.

wanna be tagged?

read part one here read part two here read part three here

next part.

Okaaaay so thank you so much for your support! I can’t believe you guys liked it as much as I did! Especial thanks to @steve-harringtonnn and @erodasghosts for helping me out with this chapter!!!

Anthony would often disregard the pain he’d felt before. He would never say it out loud but he had lost faith after his heart had been broken. The sun had never been as warm. Grieving was one of his favorite activities to live by, silently, to himself. The bloody-minded Anthony would die before ever admitting that his feelings had been impaired.

He was obstinate, he was well aware of that. And he was scared, and he wondered where he’d gathered the courage to walk through the crowds to her two nights before, as if it hadn’t pained him. Perchance his pride had led him there, or maybe his broken heart looking to be healed did. The wandering thoughts that would cease every so often.

Anthony loved to mourn, or make sure people think he was mourning. He often tried to be the smartest person in the room, he always failed. But he tried, and he counted himself on it.

He was flawed, he knew that. But he would try his best, so he’d pride himself on. However he could not forgive himself for being flawed enough to be rejected by Y/N.

Her eyes were carved in his mind, and he’d be reminded of her every morning when the sun dared to warm his skin, and with every flower petal that he saw her eyes would find their way back to his most wounded intellect, her eyes were her biggest sin, though he could be blamed for other blunders, he thought her sight was the biggest offense, for her eyes could see through any of his lies and hypnotize him enough to lose his reason, or the lack of it. How inconvenient he found that every beautiful morning belonged to her, and it would only hurt his heart. How inconvenient was it that her entire soul mesmerized him.

It was hard not to see her as a villain, however, maybe that’s why he tried avoiding the music, dancing was but another warning, triggering him of the night he’d seen the dress flying as she vacated the ballroom. And every time he found himself in the middle of a ballroom, he felt agony and despair. Anthony had always feared death, but he realized that he had already died once, when she’d left the ballroom. Being away from her had killed Anthony, and to be dead while still having to survive could be one of the most dreadful and painful things to endure. Anthony was now sure he’d died on that night, and he was sure that whatever death might feel like it wouldn’t be as painful as to be away from her. He thought his pain would be forever, that eternal sorrow.

His hand had felt cold since she’d left. Though, one could argue that his hand had been warm since the night before, as if he’d finally come back to life. The act, as most immoral as it was, had been the closest he’d been to a heavenly discovery of love and life. A very magnificent distraction.

There was light again.

He would deny it, but the darkness was the time he felt the loneliest, hence why he had searched for Sienna’s love, an escape from the life he would’ve loved with y/n. He was so desperate to be covered on something else, to erase y/n from his body that he’d try to find the closest thing to love on someone.

Worst thing had been he did find it, in a very unconventional way.

He would rather be a rake to the world than to ever admit that he had been broken-hearted. A man shall never seem weak to the world, though he was broken. Hushed to the night.

Yet, now he wanted to scream to the world that he was loved by the woman he loved. An iridescent glow coming from his chest, as he rode back home.

He had chosen the prettiest of the flowers, though they were very little to recommend and they’d look pathetic and sad beside the beautiful woman.

Anthony never liked being seen as a fool, yet he should not mind looking like one with her. Why would he be ashamed to say he’d fallen for such a remarkable lady.

Gardenias and peonies. He knew she’d love them. Not roses this time, he found the roses to be very contrasting to the delicate gardenias.

He couldn’t hide his eagerness as he’d arrived at his former household. Though he had not slept, he couldn’t have more energy. He hopped to the drawing room, in expectation to see the possible suitors that would come for Eloise, though she was not eager for them, and was rather trying to avoid any significant encounter.

Anthony couldn’t hide the beam, as he tried the sweets that his mama had displayed.

Eloise was plopped on the couch beside Benedict, as Violet tried to beg her to sit with grace and poise. Eloise had the latest copy of Lady Whistledown as Benedict tried to peek and read.

“Stop reading that nonsense,” Anthony said. “Such a lovely morning, is it not?”

Benedict scrunched his nose at his brother, mostly confused. Anthony stole one of the desserts Benedict had on his plate earning a groan from him.

Lady Violet watched her son, “I would like to address your behavior last night.”

The younger siblings smirked, knowing well that though their brother was an adult, he would often yet be scolded by their mama.

Benedict chuckled, “How come, mama, his behavior was rather impeccable.”

Eloise giggled. Anthony glared at his siblings.

“To suggest a fake proposal,” Lady Violet said with severity. “Most imposing irrationality. You shall not play with such calamities.”

“Do not worry, mama, a real proposal shall come soon enough, I shall be more rational in the future, ” Anthony declared. “Just this morning I sent Lady y/n flowers to thank her for her… most stimulating company,” Anthony coughed. “And as an apology for my behavior.”

His younger siblings looked up with confusion.

“Are you going to propose to Lady Y/N?” Asked Eloise.

Anthony cleared his throat, “I did not… say that.”

Eloise frowned. “Did you not find her disagreeable? Or why else were you bickering-?”

“Please, Eloise, that is Anthony’s way of courting, and I’m sure Y/N found it just as stimulating and flattering,” Benedict hissed.

Eloise cackled, “as if y/n would rejoice in any avow Anthony could make.”

“How come, brother you seem to be captured again in some possible infatuation when only last night you merely only barked towards the Lady?” Benedict inquired. Anthony tried to avoid his brother’s remarks.

Of course, he would not tell them how his night had been accomplished, and how the despair had transformed into a very pleasant evening. He shall keep the secret for it was, though most pleasant, very unsuitable and outrageous for the standards of the society. Though Anthony did bear some guilt for the scandal and the impropriety he thought it was most formidable to try and deny the linkage had been but an ardent reminder of his noble sentiments for the woman.

“As you mentioned, brother,” Anthony remarked snarkly, “Lady y/n and I share a very perplexing demeanor to show our affection towards each other.”

“Perplexing? Stupid, you mean,” Benedict mocked.

“Is there affection?” Lady Violet inquired.

Anthony huffed, “I guess there is no reason for me to harbor and censure my sentiments anymore,” he admitted. “However I shall not give any other explanation to this subject.”

Benedict glared, “Why the sudden change? I thought you did not regard y/n so dearly.”

Anthony paced around the room nervously, he did not want to address his feelings. How stupid would it be to admit he felt alive, and that he was entranced by her.

“She is a good friend,” Anthony alleged. “Why are you enquiring my sentiments? I would’ve believed you’d be wallowed with my announcement.”

His mother grinned, “I am.”

“I am not,” Benedict laughed. “Forgive me, but you can understand my confusion, are you suggesting you are friends now?”

“We have been,” Anthony hissed. “In any case, I’ve always been fond of her.”

“I must signal how your bickering has hindered us from believing there is some kind of attachment,” Eloise pointed out as she watched her eldest brother.

Anthony rolled his eyes, it had been a point in their bickering, to hide to them and themselves really. But really, challenging each other was but their way of admiring their wit. Anthony was stunned, not only with her beauty but with the way she spoke her mind. He was always left wanting more when it came to her, she rarely gave him anything but a headache, and apparently that was something very compelling to earn his heart. Not sure why.

Benedict laughed, “I think I understand now Eloise, we seem to have forgotten how big of a fool our brother is, the elusiveness Anthony has shown towards Lady Y/N has been but a lame attempt to tempt Miss Y/N and delude her enough for her to give some attention to our brother. Has it not?”

“Has it succeeded?” Inquired Eloise.

The night before was only proof it had. And it had not been elusiveness, he was transfixed on the lady’s wit, he couldn’t keep up with her, that was the reason. He was dotted with her surliness, the way she’d wag his words. Anthony loved being a fool for her, such a capable woman she was. However, it shall be noted he loved being fooled by her intellect and the false peevishness, not by her exclusion.

“What has?” Questioned Colin, as he had walked into the drawing room. Lady Violet was rather annoyed the only men in the room were but her own children and not any possible suitor for Eloise.

“Anthony’s bickering,” Eloise looked up, as she reached for a box of sweets to nibble by her own. “Apparently his arrogance and stupidity were but to woo Miss Y/N,” explained Eloise.

Anthony winced,“May we change the subject? I believe it is a matter of more importance—“

Colin laughed, interrupting him. “I believe those attempts have succeeded, were you not here last night? Was Miss Y/N not looking forward to not running away this time? Even after Anthony suggested such a scandalous scheme?”

Anthony rolled his eyes, “Are you not to go elsewhere?”

Benedict grinned, “Why? Are you not to share with him your news?”

“News?” Colin frowned with curiosity.

“Apparently our brother might attempt to court Miss Y/N,” Benedict mocked. “I believe.”

Colin faked surprise, “Really? Are we suggesting that Anthony could have any sort of sentiments that aren't self depreciation and remorse?”

Benedict and Eloise laughed, hardly. Their mother only directed a glare towards them.

“How amusing,” Anthony barked. “However, if you must know, there is affection towards her and I must try and delight her,” Anthony cleared his throat, Benedict snickered. “And I hope she gives me the honour of accepting my hand.”

He knew that the bomb he had dropped would be enough to shut his siblings. And it was.

Lady Violet smiled, ignoring her sons and daughter’s remarks. “Are you really planning on proposing?”

Anthony tried to hide his excitement, and embarrassment, for the matter, he’d never been keen on showing any kind of excitement for any infatuation. Besides, he didn’t believe it himself, how he would dare to propose. “I am not sure where my compliments might take me, however I am not here to talk about my attention and regards to Lady Y/N, we are here to try and persuade any respectable man to bestow any attention to our lovely sister.”

“However, you shall make sure your infatuation is reciprocated,” Benedict advised. “Be sure the lady will not leave amidst dancing.”

“I believe it was Anthony the person who gave me the advice that eventually my heartbreak from Miss Thompson would disappear, and that it would be as if I had never loved her at all.”

Anthony glared.

“Yet he is going after the person who broke his heart, did your own precepts fail you?” Colin asked.

It was something that did bother Anthony, and that he did fear, he knew y/n to be the most unexpected and inopportune to make her decisions. She often hesitated and reconsidered her thoughts Y/N was very volatile and her emotions would go from extreme affection to utter rage and while it was something he often appreciated, it was something he feared now. He feared the remainder of his heart would be scattered across the place. Anthony would never say out loud how much he feared ballrooms now. Almost as much as he feared bees, but he wouldn’t ever admit it. He knew he was but a fool to fall for y/n, eerie and untamable. He didn’t regret it, however.

Anthony coughed, “I could’ve never erased my feelings for her.”

Eloise glared at him and then finally turned to her copy of Lady Whistledown. Anthony rolled his eyes, it was no secret he didn’t like reading Lady Whistledown. He would try and not feed her with anything. He was definitely not a vivid reader. He found her rather vapid, if he were honest. He was never a fan of gossip and avoided it, most of the time. However, since Lady Y/N’s arrival, he could not help but read whatever Lady Whistledown could say of her, just to feed his dislike against her. She spoke of y/n in a way that was most repulsive. Derision seemed to be the only language the woman spoke.

He did not like the way the pesky Lady Whistledown spoke of y/n, or her history with him, if he was to be honest. Anthony resented that she’d written about his own pride and his heartbreak when there was barely any information he understood himself about it. It was for them to know.

However, he was rather relieved that Lady Whistledown did not know of the… affairs he’d held with Lady Y/N. Though now guilt was killing him, he did not regret it. He felt alive whenever he was with her, and he didn’t feel alive often.

After the heartbreak, he had decided to lock his heart and never use it again. Though Sienna had managed to almost get it back, his heart had not felt the warmest but until the night before.

And though he had promised to never use his heart again, there he was again, with a foolish smile.

“She is talking about you again,” Eloise pointed out. “And Lady Y/N-”

Anthony chuckled, “Expected,” he commented. “Now, dear sister, there is no soul here and I must say this is not my fault,” he cleared out. “I have not jostled any suitors from you, I know better.”

Benedict scoffed, “She jostles them herself, no need for us to.”

Violet took a deep breath. Anthony smirked as he picked up a cup of tea.

Eloise turned cold as she finished reading. “She is to be married-”

“Who is?” Violet grinned. “You? Most certainly-”

“No, mama,” Eloise commented, and then watched Anthony. “Y/N’s hand is promised to Lord Collins.”

The cup of tea shattered on the floor, though the Bridgertons were not sure if the shattering porcelain had been what they’d heard breaking. Anthony’s face had gone stiff and pale.

“I beg your pardon?” Was all he managed to ask.

“It says it here,” Eloise explained.

Violet snatched the paper from her daughter, “Is she toying with the lack of heart Anthony Bridgerton holds and is she trying to fool everyone just to appeal more to Lord Collins, who according to the ton has her hand promised already?” Read out loud.

“Did you know about this, mama?” Questioned Collin.

“I certainly did not,” Violet assured her son, and turned to the eldest who was going through a very familiar feeling. He did not say a thing, he only clenched his jaw and widened his eyes.

There he was again, transported back to the night when the moon had not made an appearance, and when the poison had flourished from the floor to apprehend him down to his sorrow. He felt as he had been pushed off yet again down a precipice.

Benedict and Colin only watched him, expecting the very worst. Instead, Anthony only took a deep breath. Anthony despised having his heart broken, and instead decided to be angry, for its a manlier sentiment. He stormed off the room anyway, quietly.

“Am I supposed to follow after?” Questioned Benedict, and then proceeded to, seeing as his brother rushed down the stairs and off the household. “Anthony!” He broodingly called.

Anthony pushed his way through, not noticing there were gentlemen going up to see his sister, he was rather too angry to even add more jealousy to his displeasure.

“Anthony,” Benedict called again.

Anthony ignored.

Benedict ran this time to stop his brother, stopping the fuming man as he glared at him. “What?”

“I believe I should stop you before you do anything stupid, which judging by your look, you’re on your way to do so,” Benedict barked not letting Anthony through.

Anthony gave him a warning glare, “Let me through.”

“You’re being an idiot,” Benedict said.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to do,” Anthony said

“And that is why I must stop you,” Benedict said. “If I don’t know you any better you’re on your way to kill Lord Collins.”

Anthony scoffed, he had not thought of that idea but now he found it rather exhorting. “I am on my way to speak to the Lady,” he tried walking through but Benedict stopped him once again.

“Shall I know what’s going on through your head? Last night you both were opposed to even being on the same room and then this morning you come with the idea of proposing, I do not even know what is-”

“I love her,” Anthony snapped. “That is what is going on through my head.”

“How did you even change your mind-” Benedict paused and then watched his brother. “Did you go and see her?” He asked in a faint whisper.

Anthony coughed and looked elsewhere, “I did not, I just realized my childish act was but an antic to evade my actual feelings for her.”

Benedict did not buy it. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t see a reason why you shouldn’t,” Anthony glowered.

“You really don’t?” Benedict bristled. “What amuses me is that you try to justify your childish acts and stupidity with love when we are both aware those are but a matter of your personality.”

“How amusing,” Anthony scowled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Benedict grabbed him by his arm, “I shall think you know better than to go and throw a tantrum to Miss Y/N. I know you’re capable of fucking up, but this goes beyond your usual behavior.”

Anthony opened his mouth to defend himself but knew he couldn’t actually contradict him. “I do not plan on throwing a tantrum, I will only recover the flowers I sent her this morning, I find it improper to try and court an engaged lady.”

“So you will not fight for her, then?” Benedict queried, astonied.

Anthony did not know if he could. “Shall you suggest I do?”

Benedict coughed, “I would think it would be reasonable but… In a civil way, not in an Anthony way.”

“An Anthony way?” He questioned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Since her arrival your stupidity has escalated in immeasurable ways, I certainly am very impressed because I did not believe that to be possible and yet you are here,” Benedict cackled.

Anthony glared.

“Look,” Benedict sighed. “We could give this more thoughts, and see the best way we can proceed with this, however, today we shall get our lovely sister to the park, she needs to be seen,” he reminded him. “You can be stupid later.”

He would, Anthony knew. He was the most illogical human being when it came to Lady Y/N, and he did not know how to proceed. He was lying, he actually had planned on throwing a tantrum to her, for he was not yet to be fooled again and let there standing like a complete idiot.

And a complete idiot you were too, you were the one in need to throw a tantrum, for you did not want to meet Lord Collins and you certainly did not want to be betrothed to him. You were well aware that he was a fair gentleman, and you knew he was one of the most eligible bachelors the ravenous mamas were hunting for, but you did not want anything to do with him.

You thought of it, the possibility to ruin your reputation, it could be a way to untangle yourself from said arrangement. What if you admitted that you were corrupted? How big of a scandal would it be?

No, you would not dare to bring Anthony down. Not now that he was being so soft to you, and that was not Anthony in the slightest. Though it did surprise you he had not yet stormed into the room like the complete idiot he was.

Had he… read it?

You knew Anthony better, he probably did not follow the gossip, and if you were lucky he’d think that Lady Whistledown was but inventing things. She was not but if he used any kind of reasonable sense he would know better. But this was Anthony and he used anything but his mind to think, and he would not be reasonable. He never was before and you doubted he’d be now.

“I cannot marry him,” you said to Lady Danbury, who had been watching you pace around the drawing room for a while now. The flowers Anthony had sent were displayed in the middle of the room.

You were not sure but you could tell Lady Danbury suspected something, she’d always been observant but the woman’s stare was telling, she could easily see past your sweating hands.

“I’m afraid I’m not the one to make that decision,” Lady Danbury commented.

“Shall I write a letter to my father to beg him to not offer my hand?” You asked. “Don’t I have any saying on it? It’s my hand.”

“I would think you’d need to have another proposal,” The woman explained to you. “However, I am not sure if there will be any more.”

“There might be,” you mumbled, and continued to rush through the room, as if moving faster would get your thoughts fast, too. “Can I reject his hand?” You questioned.

“He will grant you security,” Lady Danbury watched you, “He is a respectable man.”

“I am well aware he is.”

But I do not… love him, you thought.

Yes, the man was respectable, and a very handsome one, but rather cliched. Eager, but the man was rather thoughtless. You knew his conversation was boring, only compliments and questions about the weather, he was very boring. Always agreeing, and what fun was it in someone always agreeing with you. And he liked to talk about the moon and made it seem like the most horrendous and tedious thing to ever be seen, he liked to talk about anything, but not any kind of pleasant conversation. Very tiresome if you must admit, full of banalities.

Probably you’d have a very insipid life if you were to marry such a bland and hacky man. One that most ladies would want, however.

Anthony, on the other hand, the brooding and plucky man, always had you on the edge. He was an adventure for you. He was incredibly handsome. Or maybe he wasn’t and it was just your nonsensical sentiments for him blinding you.

“Lord Collins can offer an idyllic calm life.”

“I can recognize that,” You admitted, you made your way to the window, a window where you’d talked to Anthony the day before. You took a deep breath, you could see the back house in the garden, a place that you found most intimate now. That was idyllic for you, the taste of his lips, to feel like it’s a June afternoon when it’s a cold December morning only because his smile warned your heart just enough.

You were sure Lord Collins wouldn’t be able to offer that, and that he would not like to avoid the balls because he loved them, though you despised them. You knew he would not listen to your piano forte, though the melodies you played were very tepid, and telling.

You knew you’d have to walk through his household, bored every morning and share the most ordinary conversations, leading to a miserable life, only because your hand had been promised to a man who you did not love, but who was adequate. Only because your instability had not been able to accept the proposal of whom your heart held dear.

You still stared at the cottage where you could see the shadows of your hands. What if you escaped? Forever. Would he escape with you if you dared to ask him?

“I presume security is the outcome expected from a marriage,” you said. “Love is a bonus, is it not?”

Lady Danbury yanked her head. “I suppose so.”

“Is marriage really only but a security arrangement? Or is it merely to satisfy men's lust and appetite.”

The woman coughed in surprisement, “I would rather not engage on such improper subjects of conversation.”

“Is it not?” You frowned. “I believe marriage to be only that, to bare children, to relieve men from their sins. Build a legacy.”

“I believe marriage is also to prospere,” Lady Danbury added. “When a marriage is founded on love then it shall be the most prosperous, not sinful.”

“Yet here I am, with an offer to a disagreeable partnership,” you barked. “I thought those arrangements to be deemed contemptible.

“Lord Collins is not disagreeable,” Lady Danbury coaxed.

You sighed, “I guess not, he is a fair man, and most kind,” you admitted. You didn’t want to give in to your fate just yet. Seemed old fashioned, very 18th century. You were assumed to tolerate him, and you knew your father would not choose a beast for a husband for you. However, you did not want to dread this, to be offered tolerance and not love was an atrocious destiny. “I presume he can offer me a calm life.”

Lady Danbury watched you, “However, Lord Bridgerton might be able to offer such a life, too.”

You smiled, “He most certainly would not.”

She raised her eyebrows, “Oh?”

“No, not calm, Anthony is anything but calm,” you chuckled. “Maybe that is why the life he could offer me would be most enticing.”

You knew that it would be fun, exciting. And that he would not mind if you woke up early to see the dawn, and he would join you and not expect you to be the most respectable lady, but he’d respect you, if you wanted to be respected that is .

Lady Danbury only caressed the flower petals and walked to you. You needed to perish the thoughts of love, though.

“You’re never one to watch with melancholy,” She pointed out.

“Oh, I certainly am, gloomy as I can be, and am I expected not to?” You wondered. It was the worst chastise one could have possibly thought for you, to marry a boring man. To marry to tolerate.

“I guess not,” she admitted.

You sighed.

“He is yet to propose,” Lady Dabury remarked with mischief. “I know Lord Collins is respectable enough to want to court you properly.”

“He wants to court me?” You questioned.

Lady Danbury smirked. “Yes, though he is aware your hand is promised to him, he is someone who will pursue your love.”

“My heart belongs to another,” you stated. “He will find it rather impossible to pursue my love.”

Lady Danbury chuckled, “How impossible?”

“Only one man has been able to conquer my heart, and his way of doing so was rather eerie and unusual.”

Lady Danbury smiled.

“I must ask, do you believe that if I ensure another proposal I might be able to rid myself of such entanglement?” You questioned. “After all, he’s not yet asked for my hand.”

“Do you think you could ensure it?”

“Probably already have,” you said.

“And who may that be?” Lady Danbury asked, not because she did not know but because she wanted you to say it out loud.

Before you could, a servant announced, “Lord Collins is here.”

Your heart stopped, your bethrote. And suddenly the perfect morning you had had just hours ago had disappeared. You knew you could not stop the rain from falling but this particular sorrow was not the best way to receive the man who had your hand promised. You would not be able to smile and you would not be able to have any kind of courtesy.

He walked in, though, the man was clean and proper. Handsome, with flowers. Red roses, freshly cut you could see. You saw one petal fall down as he approached you. How convenient, you thought, for you could find the petal on the floor more interesting.

It felt cold, and you were unaware why. You’d fancied yourself in love with another man who was not offered your hand.

“Lady y/n, good morning,” he said. “How radiant you are this morning.”

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, you were never fond of compliments. You also had the urge to run away. You wouldn’t, though it was tempting. He was a respectable gentleman, and respected he should be, no matter the opinions you held of him. You found him very dull.

Lady Danbury nudged you lightly, seeing as you had only remained quiet with your eyes wide open and with a wide strained smile.

“My apologies, I seem to be inattentive this morning,” you answered. “Good Morning, my Lord,” you said. “Thank you for your compliments, and flowers.”

Lady Danbury watched you with dashing hopes.

“I was hoping I could tempt you with a promenade on this fine day,” Lord Collins grinned. “I know how fond you are of walking.”

“How lovely,” you said.

How dreadful, you thought. You were, though, fond of walking. Gave peace to your mind, and it had helped you those months before, to try and suppress the memory of the eldest Bridgerton. It had most certainly failed you.

Before you could even think of escaping, you found yourself promenading with Lord Collins, the sunlight was indeed lovely, and there was barely any sign of the storm from the night before. Lady Danbury was following shortly behind.

Was there any sign of your compromised body? You wondered if they could tell, maybe it was noticeable.

You wondered if Lady Danbury noticed how jaded you were, as you faked to listen to the man talk, and talk, and talk. Whoever told men they were interesting to listen to was clearly deaf or another idiotic man, for who could ever find joy in listening to such banal and brainless individuals. However, he did not cease his talking. He never listened to you, you’d barely said any words.

It gave you time to go away to whatever world you could escape to, and you thought about how much Anthony did listen. He did converse with you, and he did listen, mostly, you knew, because he loved to pride himself on being brooding and pensive and quiet. You could say that it was because he was but a fool and not a single thought roamed his mind, but whatever his reasons were, you loved that he would listen, even if it was only to contend and fuss you.

There was magic in Lord Collins, you had to accept that. The man was so interested in listening to his own thoughts that he did not realize you were not nearly even paying a gram of attention to him. You guessed that if you did end up wedded to this man, the positive outcome was you did not have to try and pretend to be interested, for he would not notice.

Your mind was trying to find a way to reject him, knowing that Lord Collins was honorable enough to accept your rejection. But how would you reject him?

Why had it been so easy to reject Anthony, the man you loved, but it came nowhere as easy to reject Lord Collins, a man who you had no sentiment for, perchance just indifference. And would you even be able to? Your hand was promised, and though you believed Lord Collins to be a fine gentleman, you knew he could show his dark side, every man had one.

Though you’d met him before, he had claimed to love you. Lord Collins had once said it to you.

But you didn’t love him, you couldn’t possibly. How could you? After Anthony, no one would ever touch your soul and heart like he had. Though he was a wrecked mess, he was the man who you decided to hold dear to your heart.

Perhaps you could admit you were corrupted, and maybe Lord Collins would end the disgraceful engagement that was yet to come.

Your glance diverted on the park, the trees and the flowers that had bloomed this season, lovely, or so bad Lord Collins pointed out. The other couples trying to court, and their respective chaperones. Vicious mamas in the haunt, some of them sending you the most unwelcoming glares.

You were walking near the tents, you saw the Featheringtons’, with their bright colored clothing, you wondered how they could be so deficient in their clothing taste. You did not know what had happened to them, a man was standing nearby and you knew barely anything about their story after Lord Featherington passed. Penelope was your favorite of the Featheringtons, you often believed her to not belong in such a pitiful family. You acquainted them from before, knowing that Prudcence and Philippa often showed their slight infatuation with Anthony. You never blamed them but thought of it rather foolishly. Though at some point you did find it annoying, how dare them fancy the same man you did, though you were thankful that Anthony saw them as piteous as you did. You wondered if they had continued to try and impress them with their dubious talents, you had nothing against them, honestly, before you’d learned their infatuation you liked them just fine, however after learning they fancied him, you were not as courteous with your regards.

It was no secret you were a jealous person, but Anthony was, too so it balanced. You always were thankful that Anthony despised dancing, as much as you did. You barely could deny any invitation to dance but at least he did not dance with anyone else.

You kept your way, and then another tent was seen, the Bridgertons. Displaying the family in their splendour, as they were sitting , with Eloise quite unamused. You knew she’d rather be dead than to face any possible forms of courting.

Your breath failed you, as the dress felt rather tense. You did not want to see the Bridgertons and you knew Eloise had most definitely already read Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers. She would know, and besides, the man was by your own side.

Lord Collins, still absorbed in his own conversation, pranced beside you. You tried not to see the family, knowing that they’d end up feeling your stare and Anthony would see you.

Did he know?

But your glance could not be stopped, as you then glanced again, and it had been as if it was planned, for his sight was locked with yours. His eyes widened as he watched you. With terror.

In all honesty, all you wanted to do was to drop and shove Lord Collins out of the way and run to the man who’d compromised you, body and soul, but who you loved nonetheless.

But he was glaring at you. Or at Lord Collins, or at both.

You saw him quickly rise to his feet, for he had been plopped on a stool. He didn’t do anything but to stare at you, as if with merely staring he’d be able to get the man away from you. His eyes tried to work as daggers, and they often did, his glance though most adoring to you, was now nothing but frightening.

You knew Anthony well enough to know he was tormenting with jealousy, and if you knew him well enough, you could tell he was idiotic enough to believe that Lord Collin’s sentiments were reciprocated.

Anthony was fuming, though you were not sure if it was jealousy, or if he believed to be fooled again. You wished it was only jealousy.

He was about to walk your way, but you saw Benedict rise to stop him, he failed.

Anthony was making his way to you even when his family had tried to call for him. He ignored them, he was good at doing that.

Lord Collins wasn’t even aware of how you had lost your breath and how you had held some type of staring contest with the oldest Bridgerton, whose hands were in fists as he decided to go on a different route instead, Benedict on his heels. You watched him approach the Featheringtons, you saw eagerness in Lady Featherington as she ushered Philippa to join Anthony.

You scowled, what in the world was the man doing? You believed him to be stupid, but stupid enough to make a Featherington join him in his promenade was rather a most idiotic decision.

Your eyes were glued to him, unbeknownst to Lord Collins, as Philippa was rather ungraceful as she walked along Anthony. Benedict was also joined by the other sister, Prudence, who also seemed to be happy to be joined by a Bridgerton. You could listen to their absurd giggles from afar.

Did Lord Bridgerton think the Featheringtons would bring you jealousy? If anything the animosity was for the thought alone that he would think it would bother you.

But Anthony was walking fast, and poor Philippa could barely keep up with him, you chuckled to yourself, it was amusing to think the poor girl believed she was actually being courted and rather not used as a jealousy device.

“Collins,” Anthony called as he was close enough, Philippa watched you. “Lady Y/N, how delightful to see you both here.”

Benedict threw an apologetic stare at you, before yanking his brother’s arm. Prudence gushed after.

“Lord Bridgerton,” Collins gave him an unfeigned smile, as he was finally restored from his conversation. “Such a fortunate coincidence, ladies, how beautiful you look this morning.”

You wondered how big of a coincidence it was.

“Anthony,” you quickly said but then cleared your throat, “My apologies, Lord Bridgerton, how delightful to encounter you,” you said. “Philippa, Prudence,” you smiled at them as they tried to not glare at you. “Lord Bridgerton,” you saw Benedict struggling to keep a calm facade.

“Forgive me, I shall defer my raptures for another occasion,” Benedict said. “I’m afraid we are promenading with these ladies,,” he tried pulling Anthony back but the man did not move.

“I am sure you can keep promenading just fine, Benedict,” Anthony warned. “It won’t hurt us to engage in some conversation.”

“Who would’ve thought we would concur here?” Lady Danbury said from behind as she approached you. “Lords Bridgerton, ladies.”

“Lady Danbury, may I say you look astonishing,” Anthony said and then directed his glance at you.

Lady Danbury watched him with suspicion. “I’m flattered,” she said. “I’m pleased to see you gentlemen opportuning this lovely day to parade with these ladies.”

Philippa grinned, as she kept watching Lord Bridgerton’s face, as if his face had some kind of magnet she had to be glued to.

You thought of it pathetic, from Anthony of course, as you could see his obvious chagrin. You knew that he was not fond of them, because they were always trying to raise their… talents, if one must call it that way, to find a proper husband. They often failed.

“It is a lovely day,” Anthony agreed. “Seems to be the proper weather after having to engage on such a turbulent night, the storm was unpleasant.”

“Was it, my Lord?” You quickly enquired. “I would have believed you were very fond of the rain, and… turbulent storms.”

Anthony glanced at you, he was disappointed but he knew you did not talk about the rain. “You are mistaken,” he said severely. “I do not like to fret on the rain when I am not well aware if it will cease. I find uncertainty disturbing.”

“I believe the rain to be rather bitter,” Philippa intruded.

You did not even look at her, “I do not,” you said. “I believe we can find beauty in the rain for most dreary that it can be, especially when it offers such a sight.”

Lord Collins grinned, “I agree with Miss Y/N, the rain is rather soothing.”

Anthony scoffed, “Of course it is soothing, when you’re aware the sun will eventually dawn.”

This was not about the rain. But neither the Featheringtons or Lord Collins was aware of that.

“I believe the rain to be essential,” Lady Danbury interrupted. “We shall enjoy the beauty of it when it starts and when it dares to cease,” she spoke starkly. “However, Lord Bridgerton, I must praise you for the flowers you sent this morning, they were lovely, were they not, Miss Y/N?”

Lord Collins blinked in surprise. “Flowers?”

Philippa scowled at you.

“Lovely, indeed, thank you, Lord Bridgerton for the most exquisite flowers,” you said.

Anthony ignored your sight.

“Flowers?” Lord Collins asked again.

“Yes, I sent Miss Y/N some flowers to thank her for her company last night,” Anthony said with arrogance, you blushed immediately knowing exactly for what company he was thanking you for. “She joined my family and I for a lovely dinner. Besides I find the lady to be deserving of the most magnificent flowers.”

Benedict frowned watching between Anthony and you.

Philippa cleared her throat, “I love flowers,” she commented.

“How considerate,” Lord Collins said, you could tell he was not fond of Anthony. He was probably aware of Anthony’s proposal, or attempt to propose, and it was no secret that in your past season, Anthony would not leave your side.

“Yes, her favorite,” Anthony continued, ignoring the lady beside him.

“Roses?” Lord Collins questioned.

“I like roses,” Philippa commented.

“Gardenias,” Anthony snarked with a smirk. “She’s fond of gardenias, are you not, Miss?”

“I find all flowers delightful, however I do have an attachment for gardenias,” you admitted. “Thank you, Lord Bridgerton for remembering.”

He wanted to scoff, he cleared his throat instead. “My pleasure,” he said. “ I must admit the true reason for me to approach you,” Anthony slurred his words with poison. “I recently became acquainted with the news, so I am here to congratulate the two of you, I heard about your engagement.”

He knew, then.

Benedict squeezed his eyes shut, he seemed tired of his brother.

You blinked with fake surprise, “Engagement? Oh, we are but promenading, I was not aware walking led to a betrothal. Shall I assume you and lovely Philippa are to be married as well?” You asked with a smug smirk, knowing he’d be bothered.

He was, Anthony glared at you. He knew you were faking ignorance.

Lord Collins huffed, “You flatter me, Bridgerton, thinking I am already to be married to this beautiful lady, however, I know better than to assume the Lady will marry me without a proper proposal.”

“I think I’d be aware if I was to be married,” you hissed.

“Absolutely, you would be aware, how could you not?” Anthony raised his eyebrow.

Benedict watched, “Seems that this is the first time the lady hears of the news.”

“It happens to be the first time,” you lied.

“How convenient,” Anthony said with gritted teeth. “Well, I am not to engage in gossip, however-”

“Lady Whistledown announced it,” Philippa commented

“Yes,” Anthony confirmed. “The ton happened to be loud enough for your engagement to be announced on Lady Whistledown’s society papers.”

“Well, if we were to believe everything she writes then I’d be worried if I were you,” You claimed watching Anthony. “She seems to not be fond of you, my Lord. Are you suggesting we shall believe everything she writes?”

Anthony clenched his jaw.

“The Lady’s right,” Lord Collins said.

Anthony cackled, “Excellent news then,” Anthony said. “I offer my apologies to you, both.”

Lord Collins watched him with disdain.

“Is your hand not promised, then?” Asked Prudence, finally making an appearance behind Benedict.

Everyone turned to her, but Anthony directed the most special glare at her. No one dared to say a thing.

“Fair question,” Anthony intruded.

“And one that is too bold to be enquired,” Lady Danbury stepped in. “I advice you young Lady not to meddle in Miss Y/N’s business, and rather take care of your own matters.”

“The Lady shall decide if she concedes me the honor to take her hand,” Lord Collins answered.

Anthony chuckled, “I shall wish you good fortunes.”

You took a deep breath.

Benedict cleared his throat, “I believe we shall continue our stroll.”

Anthony did not move.

“Excellent idea,” You conceded. “We shall not waste the lovely weather, a promenade is most invigorating.”

“Shall I suggest walking and talking, then?” Offered Anthony. “I think the activities are not exclusive.”

You closed your eyes, you did not want to continue engaging in the conversation.

“How amusing you’re suggesting that, Lord Bridgerton,” You poisoned. “Here I would have assumed you’d rather have some solitary time with ravishing Miss Featherington here,” you derided.

Philippa grinned.

He raised his eyebrows, he was trying to tell if you were jealous. You were not, if anything you were amused of the entanglement he’d dragged himself into with his attempt of bothering you.

“Are you not finding this conversation pleasing?” Anthony questioned you. “I would have believed you to be more fond of conversing.”

You chuckled, “I rather be taciturn and quiet.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he smirked. “Shall we?” He started to walk. You directed a glare at his younger brother who only sighed.

Lord Collins raised his brow, “The Lady is quiet, I do not know why you’d find that hard to believe.”

Anthony laughed somberly, “You seem to be puzzled, Collins,” Anthony remarked. “Miss y/l/n is never quiet, unless she is engaged in other kinds of activities.”

He was being an arse.

“Other activities?” Philippa questioned.

“Lord Bridgerton is speculating,” You cleared up. “I assume he is suggesting I’m quiet when I play the pianoforte, or embroider.”

“Absolutely,” Anthony grinned. “However, I’ve been acquainted with you my whole life and I must remark you’re a woman who finds interest in chatter.”

He was mocking you.

“Not when I find it impertinent,” you sassed.

Lord Collins smiled, “A talented and accomplished woman.”

Anthony raised his brow, watching him. He was hurt, but he then proceeded to watch you as if asking you if you were serious with this.

You tried to look away, you could not believe how big of an arse he was and you could not believe his stupidity. Had he suggested you were aware of the engagement? And would he do anything about it or just keep being an arse? If he rushed his proposal he might be able to free you, however you knew Anthony to be an idiot. And you knew the man to be su full of his pride, that he would possibly try to be the biggest idiot he could before making any reasonable statements. You were in the need to have a word with him.

Lord Collins started talking again, Philippa listened this time. Eagerly. Seemed like the pair was rather absorbed in their own conversation for your own fortune. Behind, Benedict was trying to not die of awkwardness as Prudence and him were not even trying to engage in small talk. Not even about the weather.

Anthony was only peeping at you every now and then, brows furrowed. You slowed your pace, letting Lord Collins be wrapped in his words enough to not notice you’d fallen behind with Anthony.

“I suppose it is unworthy to try and explain I was oblivious to it,” you whispered.

Anthony shrugged, “You must understand why said statement is hard to believe,” he growled.

“It is honest,” you said.

“I’ve always known how fond you are of keeping secrets,” he barked. “Forgive my hesitation, but my doubts are not unwarranted.”

You glared. “Your behavior is.”

He grinned, “Fine, then I shall withdraw, I do not wish to vex your pleasant morning,” he said.

“Anthony,” you bellowed.

“I must excuse myself,” Anthony announced loudly for Lord Collins to turn around, it seemed Lord Collins only listened when it was another man speaking. “I need to disengage from this pleasant promenade.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Lord Collins, always a pleasure, I hope we can meet again soon, perchance at the ball this weekend, however I shall not retire without giving you fair advice over Lady Y/N, be careful, for her hand and heart always seem to belong to someone else,” he hissed. “Excuse me,” he then said softly and smiled at Lady Danbury cynically before storming off, leaving everyone in shock.

Benedict closed his eyes with strain as he was left with the two Featheringtons now at his care.

“I despise my brother,” he declared.

You only clenched your jaw, you agreed, you despised him, too.

next part

ext part (coming soon) feedback is appreciated!

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#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton ff #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton and you #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton writing #sham and pain

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ar1sc0rn3r · 4 years

Text

Time Can’t Measure My Love for You{Gloxinia x Fairy! Sin! Reader

Chapter 3

Synopsis: Gloxinia and Y/N have been together long before the Holy War 3000 years ago. When Rou attacks Gloxinia turns to the 10 Commandments believing his sister and beloved are dead. What happens when they meet again and on different sides of the battle field?

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

Your POV

The rumbling stopped and your stomach dropped. You and Meliodas exchanged looks, completely understanding what one another where thinking. You felt a wave emotions crash over you at the realization.

The Ten Commandments are coming back.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe and your stomach was heavy. Spreading your wings, you flew off quickly. You heard your friends calling for you, but their calls were ignored as your speed increased. You stopped when you were sure you found a dark corner to be by yourself, you brought your knees to your chest. Tears of anguish, regret, betrayal flowed down your cheeks and hit the ground in small, silent splashes. The feeling of meeting him again made you scared.

Scared that you would be blinded by your love for him and betray your comrades. Scared that he probably has forgotten you and moved on. You cried and you held your knees closer to yourself and rested your forehead on it. For what seemed like hours, you were finally able to calm yourself down. Your eyes were puffy and red and your nose felt stuffy.

You looked around to see where you were. You didn’t recognize this part of town. Suddenly, there was a loud crash. The sound made the ground shake and you flew above the houses to get a better view. The sight made your heart drop to your toes and your breath catch in your throat.

Galand

His towering form made him easy to spot out but then you saw flashes of yellow. Your eyes went wide and your wings moved before you could form a solid plan. The rest of the Sins were fighting Galand when you arrived and landed near a Perfect Cube.

When did Merlin get here?

Elizabeth was speaking frantically but you were able to make out what she was saying. You decided to stay put until you were noticed, not wanting to get in anyone’s way. It wasn’t long before you were noticed. Galand cackled and stopped fighting with the others.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise isn’t it, Y/N?”

You swallowed as all attention was on you. The eyes of you’re friends were confused and some of them knew how the Commandment of Truth knew your name.

“I would rather we didn’t meet, but it seems as if it’s inevitable.”

He chuckles at your statement and pulls his weapon from the ground. He stalks towards you and you float towards him. You stop when he’s about three feet away from you. The ominous aura from him makes you weary of his intentions.

“So, answer me something, pixie. You’ve been running around with these people while Gloxinia has been sitting in darkness moping because he thinks you’re dead?”

“What do you mean?”

He doesn’t say anything and he head tilts slightly to the side. He clears his throat and attempts to speak before cackling again.

“You both are lovesick idiots. You’ll find out soon enough.”

He was off, leaving you more confused than ever.

What did he mean by dead?

You couldn’t focus on this when King was shaking you and blurting out question after question. You put your hand over his and stopped him from shaking you.

“It’s a long story. So pay attention, so pay attention.”

3000 year ago

You and Gloxinia had been rulers of the Fairy Realm at the time. With you being the first and presumably last Queen, you had both joined Stigma in representation of the Fairy Race. Meliodas and Elizabeth had been close friends of yours and you got along well with Drole. However, you were very protective of Gerheade and immediately sought her out when the battle got intense.

You flew through the trees and saw Rou standing over her bloodied body. Your nerves were on fire with only one intention.

Kill him.

Your magic wasn’t as strong as it could’ve been as you were caught up in your own fight before finding her. You were almost spent but you were intent on saving her.

“Poison Flower: Sinister Sundew.”

The ground rumbled and a long, veiny plant with red branch-like spores coming off of it appeared. Rou looked at the monstrous creation and back at you. Your hair was matted with sweat and it stuck to your forehead giving you an eerie appearance. The flower heaved and huge glob of clear gelatin-like material was flown from it. Rou was able to dodge it but they kept coming. Somehow, he was able to dodge them all leaving you to use your last resort.

Before you could muster up any magic, you were grabbed by the neck and his sword glinted. You thought he would cut your wings, but he began with your clothing.

“You will die a shameful death for trying to poison me, you bitch.”

Mustering up strength to lift your head in his death grasp, you spat in his eye. He loosened his grip making you fall onto the ground with a thud. You hit the ground and groaned. Your vision was fuzzy, but you were able to smell ginger and saw his massive wings and red hair.

You assumed Rou was dead and he made his way to your vision. His eyes were cloudy so you assumed he was crying. You couldn’t make out much, but the last thing he said to you before you blacked out was,

“Goodbye, my camellia.”

King and the others who you assumed heard the story were appalled, The looks they gave you varied from shock, sadness, and a small twinge of pity.

“So what do you think will happen when you see him again?” Diane asks.

You shrug and look to the sky.

“I don’t know. But what I do know is it won’t be nice.”

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

a/n: sorry this took so long to come out. school is super hard especially since it’s online. i’ll try for a new chapter to come out at least once or twice a week.

#x reader #gloxinia x y/n #gloxinia x reader #gloxinia #seven deadly sins #nnt #reader insert #i'm so sorry its bad #pls tell me if there are mistakes

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Text

Curiosity pt. 4

After that night, you can’t seem to escape Riddle anywhere.

You suppose you shouldn’t be shocked by that. But now that he’s noticed you, now that he’s decided that you’re something to be interested in, it’s as though he takes up all your attention. By far the worst thing, however, is the fact that Marie and Stephanie have decided that he is the best person in the world. In your more charitable moments, you can understand why. From Marie’s perspective, Riddle has protected her future by keeping her trespassing to himself and from Stephanie’s perspective, his silence is a tacit agreement that she should be allowed to continue playing on the house team. Apparently, you are somehow unreasonable for failing to join them in their support of all things Tom Riddle.

“Can we please just drop it?” You grouch as you slump forward in your seat, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive to start the lesson. “I’ve told you both, I don’t want to talk about it.” Stephanie prods you with her wand and opens her mouth to say something but you quickly cut her off, “I’m not being ridiculous. Stop telling me that I’m being ridiculous.” This is the other point of contention between you and your two best friends: you haven’t told them why Riddle held you behind that night. They’ve decided that you’re having a clandestine relationship which would be a laughable notion if it weren’t for the way that your pulse quickened whenever they brought it up.

“Fine. You’re not being ridiculous. He’s looking at you again, though” Stephanie murmurs and smirks at the low groan you emit as your head hits the desk in front of you. You know you should tell them what happened, but you’re not sure how to without making it seem as though you’re being unfairly suspicious. (Which is maybe an indication that you are, but that’s neither here nor there.) It’s just that… You know Riddle is persistent - he’s told you multiple times - and you know that you have an awful habit of refusing to let an issue drop. They’ll accuse you of being hypercritical but something about the way Riddle acts around you sets you on edge. You don’t know what it is about him, just that there’s something strange about the way he treats you compared to everyone else.

Thankfully, your interrogation is effectively cut short as Dumbledore enters the room at that moment, sweeping past you in a whirl of canary yellow robes. “If you’d all like to pair up, we’ll be practising our colour-morphing today, class. And remember: non-verbal if you can.” With a flick of his wand, a dozen brightly coloured songbirds in gilded cages appear on the desks in front of you. Transfiguring live animals is always more difficult, and transfiguring something as specific as the colour even more so. You find yourself grinning at the challenge.

Before the three of you can fall into your usual squabble about who has to be the one to find a different person to partner up with, a shadow falls across your desk and you don’t have to look up to know exactly who it is. “Would you care to partner up?” Riddle asks and next to you Stephanie all but cackles. Obviously, he hears her - she’s making no effort to cover up her amusement - but his expression doesn’t change at all as he smiles politely down at you. After a second, he raises an eyebrow expectantly and you realise with a sinking feeling that there is really no way you’ll be able to get out of this. Marie and Stephanie have already grabbed their songbird and are watching you with joint expressions of amusement.

“… Sure.” You say at last and slowly you grab your bag and follow him to where he’s stationed himself at the side of the classroom. You frown slightly. Riddle usually sits close to the front in all his lessons, but now you think of it, in Dumbledore’s classes, he seems to try and make himself as invisible as he possibly can. You settle in the chair opposite him and watch as he places the songbirds cage carefully down in the middle of the desk. The silence seems to stretch for an uncomfortably long time between you but he doesn’t seem affected by it at all. He just watches you with a mix of amusement and expectation dancing in his eyes. Ridiculously, you find yourself wanting to impress him. “So,” You say when the quiet becomes too much, “Do you want to go first, or shall I?”

A small smirk spreads across his lips and he draws his wand out from his robes. Your eyes track his movements with more interest than you care to admit. His wrist twists in an expert motion and your little blue songbird shimmers for a moment before the blue of its feather seems to melt into deep emerald green. You absolutely do not think about what else he might be able to do with such clever hands. You’re absolutely not impressed that he succeeded in the colour-morphing transfiguration on his first attempt. Non-verbally. He did it non-verbally. He looks back at you and to your frustration, he still doesn’t speak, just keeps that pleasant smile plastered on his face like there is nothing odd about the situation you find yourself in at all.

“Right. Well done, then, I suppose.” You mutter and retrieve your own wand. You pretend you don’t notice the way his gaze becomes a little more focussed. Why does this feel like a test? Why does this feel like a test you want to pass? You shut your eyes for a second, allowing your mind to go blank and still. Slowly you think of the incantation, rolling the syllables over in your mind until they reverberate around your skull. You open your eyes, swish your wand in a precise flick and watch as the bird shifts colour from green to purple. It’s not as neat as Riddle’s own casting you note with no small amount of displeasure; the change takes longer and the tips of the bird’s feathers are a lighter shade of purple than the rest of it.

However, for a first attempt, you are fairly impressed with yourself. It seems Riddle is as well, because his pleasant smile has disappeared and he’s watching you closely now, dark eyes flicking between you and the bird. He hums in something like approval and you tamp down your desire to preen. “That was… impressive. Your first attempt at the spell?” You nod, not quite meeting his gaze. “So you’re talented at Transfiguration.” He says slowly, as though he’s piecing something together. Again, you nod. “Talented enough, to say, transfigure something into a quill, perhaps?”

Fuck.

His smile returns, sharp and pleased. He opens his mouth to say something but is cut off when Dumbledore appears at your desk, smiling congenially. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you two working together in this class before,” He clasps his hands and looks down at you as though he can see right through you. Despite his placid tone, you think you catch an undercurrent of something else lurking just beneath the surface of his statement. “Have you managed the spell? We wouldn’t want to be wasting valuable lesson time chatting, would we?” You think distantly that you should be grateful for Dumbledore’s interruption except… Well, he’s never told you off for chatting in class before. And he’s never looked at you the way he’s looking at Riddle.

And you’ve never seen Riddle look as uncomfortable as he does right now. His smile has slipped from his face as quickly as it came. He stares straight past you and when he speaks, his voice is a quiet, reserved monotone. “You are the biggest proponent of inter-house cooperation, Sir.” Dumbledore doesn’t stop smiling but he does raise an eyebrow as though he doesn’t believe a word of what Riddle has just said. You find yourself wanting to come to his defence.

“We’ve both managed it, Sir. First time round.” You try not to shift under the scrutiny of your professor. “Riddle - sorry, Tom’s was near perfect.” Which is annoying to admit but also true. Riddle (Tom?) glances at you and you’re not stupid enough to mistake the look in his eye for gratitude but at least it’s better than that shuttered, flat stare. Dumbledore says nothing in response and the rest of the lesson passes unremarkably though you can’t shake the confusion over what just transpired between you, Riddle, and Dumbledore. Soon, everyone around you is packing their things and heading out the door to lunch. You’re still trying to figure out what it is about Dumbledore that makes Riddle so uneasy that it takes you a moment to realise that the classroom has emptied out entirely. You hastily grab your own things and shove them into your bag.

You’re almost at the door when Riddle’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “We still haven’t discussed what we found out today,” He calls and because your back is turned to him, you don’t bother to hide your grimace. You had really hoped you’d be able to avoid this conversation.

“Why don’t you sit at the front in Dumbledore’s classes?” You ask suddenly, desperate for a distraction.

Riddle’s eyes flash with something that you’re beginning to recognise as tamped down anger before his expression shutters. He runs a hand through his hair and your eyes don’t track the way his waves fall in slight disarray. “Dumbledore and I have a… difficult relationship. I haven’t a clue why,” He’s lying. You know he’s lying. “It’s just always been that way.” The finality in his voice signals the end of the conversation, but you don’t want to let it drop. Not now you know he’s lying and certainly not now he knows that you did find something in Larkins’ office.

“Really? It certainly didn’t seem that way to me.” You counter, sounding a lot more confident than you feel. “It seemed to me like he has a very good reason not to like you. I wonder what it could be? Maybe you should be careful poking around other people’s secrets when you clearly have a few of your own.”

His features contort with anger and he’s suddenly too close. You hadn’t even seen him move. You take a step back and unlike the time in the library, he doesn’t stop you, merely continues to press into your personal space until your back hits the door behind you. Riddle’s arm flies up to rest next to your head, his long fingers are so close that for a moment you think he might tangle them in your hair. Your stomach drops with something that is definitely not anticipation at the thought. From this angle, the shadows of his cheekbones that much more pronounced, the waves of his hair fall messily across his forehead and he stares down at you with impossibly dark eyes, breathing hard. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this close to coming undone and your treacherous body reacts to that realisation in kind. Your breath hitches in your throat and you feel yourself start to flush. You’re not sure how long you stay there, the two of you glaring at each other whilst your pulse races. Eventually, though, his breathing calms down and his arm drops to his side. He leans back and seems to collect himself.

“I’d like it if you refrain from asking me questions about Dumbledore in the future.”

“And I’d like it if you refrain from asking me questions about my own personal business, but here we are,” You retort. He blinks, evidently surprised by your reaction and then something breaks in his expression and he laughs once sharply.

“You are the most frustrating person I think I’ve ever met. Why won’t you just tell me? You know I’ll figure it out. Or I’ll make you tell me.” He’s just insulted and threatened you in the same breath and you think you should probably be irritated by that, but there’s something odd about the way he’s speaking to you. He doesn’t… sound angry? Or like he’s trying to scare you into compliance. No… he sounds… You shake your head. It doesn’t matter what he sounds like. You’re being ridiculous.

“Why do you care so much?” You ask, gesturing wildly. “I know you care as little as I do about quidditch, I know that you’re not going to do anything with the information, so why do you care so much?” And somehow you do know that. This is a game to Riddle. It’s a puzzle he hasn’t been able to solve, and, like you, he’s not very good at letting things go.

The next word he speaks confirms your suspicions. “Curiosity.”

You blink up at him and you know he’s telling the truth. (Since when have you been able to pick up on these things about him?) He doesn’t stop you when you turn and walk hurriedly out of the classroom. You don’t look back. It’s only when you reach the ground floor that you realise you know exactly what he had sounded like. He’d sounded like he’d been having fun.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #minific #tom riddle story #tom riddle fic #harry potter fanfic

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lover-of-skellies · 3 years

Text

Marked

So uhh, this isn’t off the prompt list thing and literally no one asked for it, but I decided to go back and edit a super old thing I wrote. It’s supposed to be part of something a lot bigger, but for now, the whole thing’s been discontinued

Essentially, this is an OC insert kinda thing with my girl Adrienne. She’s been trapped in Horrortale for a little while, and since Sans decided to be merciful, she’s been allowed to live in a spare room in his and Pap’s house. She has free roam of the house and can do pretty much whatever the hell she wants (as long as it doesn’t involve getting into the pantry and digging into their reserves), and in exchange for all of that and being allowed to live, he and Papyrus have some super basic rules they expect her to follow

Rule number 1 is that she is to be helpful, and try to maintain the house while they’re away. Rule number two is that she’s not to leave the house without covering her face and hands. Rule number three is that she’s never to leave the house alone, without one or both of them nearby

Out of boredom and hunger, she leaves the house one day, following the smell of food. This doesn’t seem like it’d be anything huge, but it’s a major no-no, and it doesn’t go unpunished

Papyrus is also surprisingly good at giving advice, too. He might not have much experience with dating, but he knows exactly what he's talking about

If you make it to the end, I have to give you kudos because this is a complete cringe-fest ^^"

((Gonna add some potential trigger warnings for: angst, slight violence, and public humiliation))

Pain.

Searing pain.

The once blue-nette had been exploring the town, much to her guardians’ displeasure. She’d known it wasn’t a good idea, and for what reasons, she was well aware, but she had to do something. Staying holed away in the house every moment of every day was a completely new level of boring, one that she hadn’t even known existed. Her guardian had made it very clear that she was to never leave the house unless he or his brother were to accompany her, but today… well. His brother was away, probably at the capital getting physically and verbally abused by their queen, and he himself? She wasn’t sure what he did while he was away, but she’d learned not to ask too many questions. The first few times she tried asking, he’d been quick to change the subject or dodge her questions entirely, or he’d simply laugh and make a joke which he deemed hilarious when in reality, it wasn’t. Once he got tired of her asking, his humor quickly dissipated and was replaced by anger. He didn’t even have to look at her for her to know he was upset; all it took was a few short, clipped responses, and how she could practically hear him frown when he spoke. That’s beside the point though.

At the moment, she was suspended in mid air by her throat, her legs flailing as she began clawing at her assailant’s arm, her teeth bared as she struggled to free herself. The slightly withered fire monster shrugged off her attempts to attack him as if they were nothing at all; even though his strength had been diminished and was now only half of what it used to be, he was still far tougher than she could ever hope to be. Having smelled food, she made the mistake of slipping into the bar he owned, her hood tugged as far over her face as possible. She had glanced around the establishment, taken note of the other monsters nearby, and made another mental note of where all the exits were, should she need to run. After very cautiously crossing the bar and taking a seat at the old, worn counter, the flamesman had wordlessly poured a glass of water. He nudged it in her direction, and she’d eagerly accepted it, being mindful of how much of her face was concealed as she sipped the cold beverage.

For a moment, she was relaxed, and she nearly forgot the very real danger she was in. She was snapped out of her brief feeling of serenity as the Grillby fully shifted his attention to her. He made a soft, questioning sound, and she kept her head low, speaking just barely loud enough for him to hear, “What’re ya serving, Grillby?” He grunted, well prepared to offer her a short, yet simple answer, but was cut off by another monster who seated himself beside the girl, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around these parts before, friend… where are you from?” The teen lowered her gaze to the countertop, catching a glimpse of what looked to be faded blue fur. She didn’t know what monster could possibly want to talk to her, but she remained as calm and casual as possible in hope of not drawing any more attention to herself, “The ruins.”

With their interest now fully piqued, the monster beside her hummed incredulously, “The ruins, huh?... I take it you’ve met our former queen then. Toriel.” Upon hearing the familiar goat monster’s name, the teen saw images flicker in her mind; memories of her time in the ruins before she managed to escape. How Toriel had guided her through all the traps and puzzles that laid in waiting. How she held her close and allowed her to sob into her shoulder. How she’d convinced Adrienne to go back to her house, where there’d be a warm bed, food, and all the love and care she could ever want. Toriel had baked a cinnamon and butterscotch pie, very excited to share it with her, but not long after the teen had eaten a small slice, she’d felt her stomach turn. Her world went black, and when she awoke, she was tucked into a bed in a dimly lit room, which looked as though it had once belonged to a child. She felt incredibly ill and had almost no strength, and she could barely stand without feeling light headed. To her surprise, however, her willing ally, Flowey, had made a surprise return. Adrienne had seen Toriel had burn him alive, so she didn’t understand how he was even still alive.

Flowey had been through this exact same situation too many times to count, as it turned out, and he’d revealed Toriel’s true intentions: make the teen weak enough to require constant care and attention, and make her stay in the ruins forever. Or at the very least, until she died. Taking advantage of a distraction provided by Flowey, she’d waited for the goat monster to disappear to another part of the house. She’d then made her way to the kitchen and began to search around the floorboards. According to Flowey, there was a panel that could be removed, and underneath it, she’d find the remedy she needed to regain her health. She’d found the vial and downed it without question, only to look up and see the crazed goat monster staring at her from the doorway. The look on her face was one that still occasionally haunted Adrienne's dreams, and she’d been trying to go as long as possible without thinking about it. It appeared as though she’d be getting no such luck today, though.

Clearing her throat and trying to force down her growing anxiety, she nodded, keeping her head down, “Yeah, I have. I’ve met her.” The blue furred stranger watched her with an unnerving amount of intensity and she fought the urge to squirm and lean away from them. As they spoke again, their voice held a curious edge, “Huh. I can only imagine how that went.” Nodding silently, the teen returned to her glass of water, more than ready for the stranger to go away. She knew what would happen if she was discovered, and she wanted no part of that whatsoever.

The monster leaned closer to her and sniffed the air, letting out a pleased sigh before mumbling, “Friend… you don’t exactly smell like one of us. Monsters have their own natural and unique scents... But you, however,” A fuzzy paw-like hand seized her arm with a vice-like grip, and the stranger's voice shifted from a mumble to what was more like a hiss, “you smell like you belong on the grill.” Adrienne began attempting to yank her arm back out of the monster’s grasp and they laughed, simply using their free hand to tug her hood down, revealing her identity to Grillby and the other bar patrons that surrounded them. Her faded grey eyes widened in fear as the monsters began to shout at the flamesman, excitedly demanding that he cook her for them. Despite how the teen shook her head in protest, the mass of living fire moved closer to her, rapidly snatching her up by the throat. She was lifted off of the ground, and he ignored her pained screams as the heat from his hand began to scorch the skin of her neck.

With adrenaline now coursing through her veins, she let out a string of expletives and pulled both of her legs up until her knees touched her chest. The flamesman took a single step toward his kitchen, and then froze as both of her deceptively weak legs shot toward him, delivering a sharp kick to the space just below his chest. She didn’t expect her little stunt to actually work, but to her pleasant surprise, he’d released his grip on her out of shock, gingerly touching the now injured part of himself. Adrienne dropped to the floor and quickly regained her balance, paying no attention to the few monsters who rushed to Grillby’s side. She proceeded to climb over the counter and sprint toward the door, the footsteps behind her a clear indicator that she was being pursued now. Not that she could blame them for any though; food was insanely hard to come by, so if you had a chance to eat but the food got up and ran, wouldn’t you go after it too?

Reaching out with a clawed hand, some unseen monster snagged a fistful of her hair and harshly pulled, causing her to yelp and almost tumble to the floor. She glanced around, surveying her surroundings and checking the exits again. Part of what looked to be a dog’s muzzle could be seen in her peripheral vision and she winced, struggling to free herself from the creature's grip. She only received an amused cackle from the monster in question, followed by him instructing some of the others to grab her and haul her back to the kitchen for Grillby. Looking around again and seeing them approaching her, she stuffed her hand into one of her pockets and fished around, searching through the various items inside for a moment before revealing a pocket knife. Unsure of what she might do, some of the monsters around her stepped back, but the one still pulling her hair only growled. Though she felt the hair on the back of her neck raise at the sound, she lifted an arm and made one single, fluid slicing motion with her hand, the blade of the pocket knife slicing through her hair. While she hated having to cut her hair and knew it’d take forever to grow back, she bared her teeth at the large dog monster, her lips curling into a smug grin as she noticed the look of surprise on his face.

Taking advantage of the moment, she darted to the nearest door, fully prepared to run out into the freezing streets and make a mad dash back to her protector’s house. Freedom and safety were so close and within her reach now, but as she whipped the door open and scrambled to get outside, she slammed face first into yet another monster. Letting out a frustrated and startled screech, she began trying to squeeze past them. They simply chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nearly size-zero waist and pulling her flush against themselves. Hearing the chuckle, realization dawned on her; this was her protector. She would be safe now.

She stole a glance up at his face and his scarlet iris flickered briefly down to her, his amused grin shifting into a taut line. Oh, she knew that expression all too well by now.

From that look alone, she knew someone would be hurt today.

Though his arm was almost uncomfortably tight around her, she said nothing, only turning her body slightly and burying her face in the front of his heavily blood stained shirt. The teen whimpered, wordlessly admitting just how scared she really was at the moment. He shifted his focus entirely to the other monsters that were now staring at both of them, and sensing their gaze, the teen whined faintly, her guardian lightly squeezing her in an effort to reassure her.

Thoroughly confused as to why she wasn’t dead yet, someone called out to her protector, “Perfect timing, Sans. Now how about you kill her so we can all eat already?” The skeleton’s normally rough voice held a bitter edge and he practically growled, “She ain’t free game, pal. I’m sorry ta say it, but I won’t be hackin’ this one ta bits for ya.” A crowd was beginning to form now and Adrienne tried to press as close to her friend as she could, wishing everyone would hurry up and leave. She already hated crowds on their own, and knowing that this particular crowd all wanted to see her get roasted alive didn’t exactly make her feel any better. Clearly taken aback, the same monster that’d addressed Sans spoke up again, “Oh really? And why’s that? You never helped the humans that fell before her, so what makes her so special?”

Curiosity piqued, she glanced up at the skeleton again, though he didn’t return the gaze. He just continued staring the other monster down, his iris nearly glowing now from the extent of his agitation, “Because she’s mine. Ya hear me? This little slab a’ meat belongs ta me.” A tiny burst of heat rushed to her face upon hearing his response; was he really claiming her right now? Claiming that she was his, and using his power over the others to coerce them into sparing her? Unbelievable.

Another monster decided to interject, countering Sans’ statement with, “Then how come you haven’t marked her yet?”

Oh boy. Of course someone would ask. Why wouldn’t they? She had no idea what she was expecting, but it clearly wasn’t that. With an annoyed huff, the skeleton spun her around, making sure everyone could see her face as he fired back with another sharp retort, “Heh, funny you should ask. I was on my way home with the intention of doin’ just that, but I guess we won’t have the privacy now. Oh well. All you fuckwits better be watchin’, because I’m only gonna do this once.”

Wait, he was going to mark her? Here? In front of everyone?

Face burning with embarrassment, she dropped her gaze to the floor, letting out a soft squeak as he grabbed the collar of her shirt and jacket and pulled them aside to reveal her shoulder. Not bothering to give any indication of what he was about to do, a faintly glowing blue tongue snaked out of his maw and traced over a very specific patch of her skin. The feeling of his tongue - which consisted solely of highly concentrated magic - on her skin was like nothing she’d experienced before. There was some warmth to it that was followed by a tingle, which was likely caused by the magic itself, and another involuntary whimper slipped past her lips. Her face grew hotter at hearing herself make that sound again, which to her horror, Sans had also heard. It earned a soft chuckle from him and his mandible shifted into a pleased grin.

And then he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

It happened so fast that she didn’t even have time to register what happened, but at the lack of the expected pain, she unconsciously fidgeted. Wasn’t this supposed to hurt?... What was preventing her from being in pain right now? She felt his tongue trace over her skin again, accompanied by more tingling and… numbness? Had he intentionally numbed her shoulder before biting her?

Seeing that he had been true to his word and had in fact marked her, the other monsters quickly grew bored, the vast majority of them also visibly disappointed as they returned to their prior activities. A sense of relief washed over her and she sighed, stealing a quick glance at her friend as he slowly released her. His tongue lingered behind momentarily and lapped up the blood that seeped from the injury, and his voice took a husky tone as he purred, “Ya taste good, kiddo. I think I could get used ta this.” Her already flushed face became a much brighter shade of red than before and she scoffed, refusing to look at him, “Don’t count on it, mister.” “Awe, c’mon Addy. Help me out here… it’s not my fault that ya taste as good as ya look.” Growling softly, Adrienne scrunched her face up into a look of annoyance in hopes of masking her embarrassment as she rolled her eyes, “Pervert.” “No idea what you’re talkin’ about.” “Uh huh, right. I definitely believe that.” He lightly jabbed her side with the tip of a phalange and she squirmed, yelping in surprise. She tried to twist her small frame away from him and he laughed softly, “Whatever. How about we ditch this place and head home now? This bar is no place for a little lady like ya.” Looking back at him over her shoulder, she flicked her tongue at him.

They’d left the bar and began to walk home in uncomfortable silence. The moment they made it back to his house and he’d set her down, she found herself being roughly shoved against the closed front door with one of his large hands catching her wrists and pinning them above her head. Her eyes widened in shock and she squirmed, “H-Hey, what the hell are you-” Meeting her gaze, the look he wore was enough to silence her, his completely dilated red iris both captivating and terrifying her all at once.

Then he spoke, his gruff voice low, “You disobeyed me, Adrienne.”

Forcing her voice out and reaching nothing louder than a whisper, she frowned, “I… I know I did. I’m really sorry, Sans. I won’t do it again, I swear.” “Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if I didn’t get ta you in time?” “Yes, I do! Really!” “If you knew the risks, then why’d you do it?” Feeling much smaller than before as he continued staring her down, Adrienne sheepishly looked away from him, “There’s just.... Not a lot to do here when you and Paps are gone, and I was bored. I did a bunch of cleaning and reorganizing, and I even tried to fix the TV. I dug through the hallway closet and looked through the games, but do you have any idea how hard it is to actually play a game by yourself and have fun at the same time?”

With his free hand, the skeleton cupped his face, letting a deep sigh, “You risked your life… you risked dying, because you were bored? Am I hearin’ that right?” Feeling guilty, she slowly nodded, choosing to keep her mouth shut this time. Catching her completely by surprise, what sounded like a giggle could be heard, and though it took a moment to fully register, she had a realization that made her blood run cold; the giggle came from Sans.

Nervously lifting her gaze again to look up at him, the only thing that began to pulse within her was regret. Regret that she’d disobeyed him, regret that she went against his wishes, regret that she’d upset him so badly, regret that she even opened her mouth at all to speak to him, and most of all, regret that she’d decided to look at him.

He leaned back the smallest bit, one hand still firmly pinning her wrists above her head. Her eyes widened in complete terror as his giggling began to escalate, growing louder and louder until he was roaring with laughter as blue tinted tears pricked at the rims of his sockets. Not bothering to wipe away the tears, he placed his free hand on his face. His open palm rested on his cheek as he curled his fingers, the first two settling inside his empty socket; judging by the slight movement his arm made, he’d begun lightly tugging on the rim of it. That was never a good sign. Yes, she loved it when he relaxed enough to laugh with her from time to time, but this display right now? This was the stuff of nightmares.

Then almost as quickly as it’d started, his laughter came to an abrupt halt and his wide grin vanished, leaving only a resentful scowl behind in its place. As his focus shifted back to the teen, her heart began to race. She honestly had no idea what he planned to do now. He then began to slowly tighten his grip on her wrists, a soft growl rumbling from within his chest. Paying no attention to the grimace of pain she wore as his phalanges began digging into her skin, he leaned down, the space between them reduced to almost nothing as he hissed, “You’re an idiot. Get out of my goddamn sight, human.” Adrienne opened her mouth to force an apology out but was quickly cut off, crying out in surprise and pain as the skeleton dug his phalanges even further into her wrists and began to break skin. Rolling his single eye light, he scoffed, stepping back and suddenly yanking her to the side, releasing his grip on her wrists in time to make her small body become airborne. With the sound of something cracking and collapsing beneath her, she knew she’d landed at least partially on the coffee table.

Despite the pain that shot through her with even the smallest movement, the cold stare she was receiving from the skeleton was enough to make get back up, her head hung low as her eyes began to water up. Not wanting to show him this weaker, more vulnerable side of herself, she darted up the stairs, her feet padding across the slightly creaky wooden floor for only a brief moment. She then took refuge in the upstairs bathroom, slamming the door shut behind herself and flipping the latch, locking out the world. Trying to force down the very minute amount of guilt that began to bubble up within him, Sans let out an annoyed huff and glanced at the now completely busted coffee table. He was going to have a hell of a time explaining that to Papyrus later.

~~~

What seemed like a century had passed before the youngest of the two skeletons finally returned home, the sight of the smashed coffee table still lying on the floor enough to induce a sense of dread within him. Normally when he came home, his elder brother would greet him, or at the very least, be lazing about on the couch and offer him a half hearted wave that was usually followed by some sort of pun or terrible joke.

But no. Nothing. Sans was nowhere in sight, and neither was Adrienne. This only made Papyrus’ concern grow; he hoped beyond all hope that his brother hadn’t done anything to her.

The tall skeleton let out a soft sigh and crossed the living room. The exhaustion from the long day began to set in as he ascended the stairs, eager to take a shower and change into something more comfortable. He loved his battle body immensely, but sometimes his sore, tired bones made the item feel as though it weighed a thousand pounds. He wished he could simply change his clothes and climb into bed so he could go to sleep, but life wasn’t that simple for him; before he was allowed to relax, he needed to shower and make dinner for his brother and Adrienne, then the teen was to help him clean up the dishes once the three of them had finished eating. After all that, he was to take Adrienne to the backyard to test prototypes for new puzzles and traps. She was kind enough to help him make sure they worked correctly, so he was always vigilant, always watching to make sure she was never injured on any of them. Aside from being a puzzle and trap tester, his rather small human friend also delighted in helping him think of new puzzles, and she even designed some of her own. She seemed to enjoy partaking in games of pretend when they messed around with the action figures he’d collected over the years, and when Sans wasn’t around or flat out refused to do it, she didn’t mind reading to him before he fell asleep each night, either. They’d grown very close, and he cared for her almost as much as he cared for Sans. It was for all those reasons why he promised to protect her; he had to protect her. He’d become used to her presence and had grown to appreciate their friendship very much, and having her as his friend helped fill the void in his soul that was once occupied by the queen herself. He still considered Undyne a close friend, but the way she spoke and treated him now was… Execrable.

As he twisted the knob and nudged his bedroom door open, the scent of blood hit his nasal cavity and he felt his body tense. Gently pushing the door shut behind his massive frame once he’d crossed the threshold, he made his way to his desk and flicked on the small lamp that resided on its far left corner, the light illuminating his multitude of action figures and an old map.

The faint sound of movement caught Papyrus’ attention and he looked down toward the source, almost unable to believe what he was seeing; the human was in his bed, lying on her side and wrapped in his old blankets. An open first aid kit sat on the floor next to the bed, and cloth bandages were wrapped loosely around her slender neck. Her hair, which was once nearly long enough to reach her lower back, was now much shorter; it looked as though it was cut hastily by some sort of blade. While her arms were mostly concealed by the blankets, he could see that her wrists had also been wrapped in bandages, a familiar crimson threatening to seep through the material. As she shifted again in her slumber, her shirt began to slip down her shoulder and revealed another large bandage, more crimson staining the fabric. His brow bones furrowed as he took note of how the crimson staining it formed a half circle… as if the injury was because of a bite.

In his consternation, Papyrus reached out, a single gloved hand settling on her uninjured shoulder. He leaned down, his spine already aching from the awkward angle as he lowered his voice and did his best not to startle her, “Human?... Adrienne? Please, I Need You To Wake Up. Come On Human, Please.” As she slowly began to stir, he fought the urge to scoop her up into his arms and shelter her from whatever had left her in her current condition.

As her eyes fluttered open and she took notice of the skeleton towering over her, all traces of exhaustion vanished and her eyes widened, a sound of surprise slipping past her lips. In her momentary panic, she’d sat up and tried to move away from him, her chest heaving as she drew in one deep breath after another. Papyrus gently shushed her, offering her a weak, apologetic smile, “Hey, Hey, It’s Alright. It’s Just Me, Adrienne. I Didn’t Mean To Startle You, I Swear. I’m So Sorry For Scaring You.”

Registering who was with her, the teen released a deep sigh of relief. She gave Papyrus no time to prepare himself before she practically threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around whatever she could reach before clinging to his battle body. Though he was visibly caught off guard, he delicately encircled her with his arms, one hand finding her uninjured shoulder again before he lightly squeezed, his voice laced with concern, “Adrienne?... What’s Wrong? What Happened To You?”

The only response he received from the girl in his arms was a muffled sob and he frowned, moving his hand from her shoulder to her face. He used his index finger to tilt her head back, allowing him to see her tear stained face, and as her bottom lip twitched and another tear rolled down her cheek, he frowned; normally she was such a strong, upbeat person. To see her this way was heartbreaking.

The skeleton lowered his voice even further, reducing it to a whisper, “Adrienne, Please… Tell Me What Happened. I Want To Help You.” Her lip twitched again and she sniffled, reaching up to wipe her tears away with her sleeve, “I just… Papy… I just wanted to go outside... I just wanted some fresh air… I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Still frowning, Papyrus gently ran his fingers through her hair and tilted his head, his voice remaining low, “What Do You Mean?... Did Sans Do This To You?” Upon hearing the name of the older skeleton brother, Adrienne tightened her grip on Papyrus, her voice beginning to waver as more tears rolled down her face, gathering at her jaw and dripping down onto her shirt, “Papy… I was so stupid. I made him mad at me. I upset Sans.”

Papyrus’ frown deepened; he knew how his brother could be whenever he had one of his episodes, and never in a million years would he wish for anyone to become the recipient of Sans' delirium. The skeleton sighed as he gently stroked the teen’s hair, “It’ll Be Ok, I Promise. You May Stay Here Tonight If You’d Like, And I’ll Be Sure To Speak With Him About This. Do You Think You Could Tell Me Everything, Though? I Can’t Be Of Any Help To You If I Don’t Know All The Details.” With a heavy heart, she slowly nodded and looked up, meeting his gaze, “I… I went outside today... by myself. I went into town, and I went to Grillby’s. It smelled like food in there, and I was so hungry… I thought I’d find something to eat. I kept myself as covered as possible, but I was caught and got grabbed by Grillby,” she paused, visibly ashamed as she gestured to her neck, “…I got burned.”

The skeleton made a soft sound in understanding and nodded, silently asking her to continue, which she did, “Someone else grabbed my hair and I had to cut it to get away from them. Then when I opened the door and went to run outside, I ran face first into Sans. He told everyone there not to mess with me, that I wasn’t free game because I belonged to him. Then he marked me. Right there, with everyone watching. He was a little flirty afterward and he seemed happy enough, so I thought everything was ok, but when we got here, he… he had an episode.”

Papyrus didn’t know what to make of everything he’d just been told; on one hand, she suffered numerous injuries and nearly died, and on the other hand, she was marked by Sans.

Normally whenever a monster marked someone, it meant that they saw that person as their mate and that they wanted to claim them as their own. That they loved that person with every fiber of their body and soul. Being marked also served as a way to protect someone from other monsters, but there had been cases of a mark not being enough to guarantee the safety of a monster's mate.

Being marked was not only a big deal, but it was also something that every self respecting monster knew should be done in private. The fact that Sans marked her in the first place was absolutely astounding, but the fact that he had the absolute nerve to take something that was meant to be special, shared between mates and no one else, and turned it into some obscene gesture that he performed in front of a crowd, undoubtedly humiliating Adrienne in the process… It was unacceptable.

He needed to speak to Sans, and he needed to do it now.

Releasing a deep sigh, Papyrus lifted a hand to idly rub the back of his neck, “I See… I Cannot Apologize Enough On My Brother’s Behalf. I’ll See If I Can Get Anything Out Of Him That Would Explain Why He’d Behave This Way. Hopefully… Hopefully He Doesn’t Clam Up, Like He Seems To Always End Up Doing. Will You Be Alright Here While I’m Away? I Don’t Want To Leave You Alone If You’re Still Feeling A Little Too Overwhelmed And Freaked Out By Everything.” The teen sniffled, absentmindedly wiping her face with her sleeve again as she nodded, “Uh huh… I think so.” Catching the slight uncertainty in her voice, he offered her a reassuring smile, “I’ll Try To Be Back As Soon As Possible, Alright? How About You Pick Out Some Puzzles For Us To Work On When I Return? A Few Good Puzzles Always Help Me Feel Better Whenever I’m A Bit Rattled, So I’m Confident They’ll Do The Same For You, Too!” Adrienne couldn’t help the small smile that curled her lips upward at how eager he was to help her, and she nodded again, “Ok, Pap… that sounds good to me. When you get back, do you think maybe you could help me fix my bandages a little? Some of them are still too loose and I dunno if I missed any little spots anywhere.” Perking up at the request, Papyrus beamed, gently unwrapping his arms from around her and ruffling her hair, “Yes, Of Course! The Great Papyrus Would Be Happy To Assist You, Adrienne!” Letting go of the skeleton, Adrienne smiled up at him; he was such a sweet guy, and despite their circumstances, he was always so optimistic. He still maintained a sense of morality as well, unlike the other monsters. She honestly wasn’t sure what she’d do without him at times.

Reluctantly parting from his small human friend, Papyrus slipped out of the room, carefully closing the door behind himself. Once he was gone, Adrienne sighed, climbing out of his bed and making her way over to a shelf. As she looked over the various boxes and puzzle books, she came to the conclusion that it probably didn’t matter which one she chose; as long as it’d keep her and that goofball busy for a while, it was good enough for her. As she reached out to grab a thick puzzle book, she winced. Her free hand moved to gingerly touch the bandage on her shoulder; at the twinge of pain, her mind drifted to Sans. After earlier, she should’ve learned her lesson and given up on disobeying the very specific rules that her friends had established. She was a curious being by nature though, and she’d be damned if she had to go on without receiving any answers.

Her curiosity and desire to know why Sans would mark her grew even stronger. She grabbed the puzzle book and dropped it on Papyrus’ bed, before peeking out of the room and glancing around the hall. Against her better judgement, she began to search for the pair of brothers. The most logical place Sans would be at this time of night would be in his room, or downstairs on the living room sofa. If those two places weren’t it, then she’d have to check the basement. No biggie. As she tiptoed down the empty hallway, she briefly paused to look over the railing and down into the living room, and found that Sans was nowhere in sight. On her way toward the stairs, she caught the sound of a mumbled conversation through Sans’ closed bedroom door and froze; she knew better than to go into his room without knocking, so she opted to stay in the hall and eavesdrop, rather than barge in on whatever he and Papyrus were talking about at the moment.

Inside the closed off room, Sans rolled his eye light, trying his best to brush off the lecture he was receiving from his younger brother. It’s not like he did anything to Papyrus personally, so he didn’t understand why Pap thought he needed to get involved. Not in the slightest. Completely exasperated with Sans’ stubbornness, Papyrus pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh, “Sans, Honestly. You Didn’t Have To Take It That Far. The Poor Girl’s Probably Traumatized And Too Ashamed To Ever Want To Leave The House Again.” Sans grunted, flopping down onto his back on his old, worn mattress, “Remind me how that’s a bad thing again, Pap. So far, I’m not seein’ any problems with it.” The taller of the two inhaled deeply, briefly closing his sockets as he tried to gather his thoughts, “Sans… Brother. I Love You, But What You Did Today Wasn’t Ok. I Don’t Understand Why You’re So Calm And Casual About It.” Gaining a very clearly agitated edge, Sans practically growled, “It’s really fuckin’ simple. If she’s too ashamed ta leave the house, then good! At least she’ll stay put then and save me a lot a’ trouble in the future.”

Not even remotely threatened by his older brother’s tone of voice, Papyrus snapped, suddenly shouting, “LANGUAGE, SANS. MAYBE SHE DIDN’T LISTEN TO YOU, BUT THAT’S NO REASON TO TREAT HER THIS WAY. IT IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT A VALID REASON TO GO AND PUBLICLY HUMILIATE HER, THEN COME HOME AND SCARE HER HALF TO DEATH, EITHER. YOU ALSO BROKE THE COFFEE TABLE, SANS. SOME OF US HAVE TO PAY FOR THINGS LIKE THAT, YOU KNOW!”

From her spot in the hallway, Adrienne flinched, her eyes widening. Not once had she ever seen Papyrus so upset that he shouted like this. This was a whole new experience, and she could already say that it was both surprising and terrifying all at once.

The shorter of the two let out an exaggerated groan, beginning to absentmindedly tap the tips of his phalanges on the bed as he stared up at the ceiling, “As far as the table goes, I’ll replace the damn thing if it really means that much ta you. What am I supposed ta do about the kid though? If I really scared her as much as you’re sayin’ I did, then she won’t want anythin’ ta do with me. It’s not like I can just walk up to her and go, ‘hey, you know that day when I got mad at you? I’m sorry and I won’t do it again.’” Papyrus hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Well… A Sincere Apology Is Only Half Of What I Think You Owe Her.” “Yeah? And what’s the other half?” “To Be Completely Blunt About It, She Knows What It Means To Be Marked.”

The older skeleton brother nearly choked on air, his cheekbones dusting a soft shade of blue, “What the hell?… Ok, then… What about it? Everyone probably knows what it means.” “What I’m Saying Is That She Knows Monsters Wouldn’t Mark Anyone Unless That Person Was Tremendously Important To Them, And Unless They Saw Them As Their Mate. Not Only Is There That, But She Told Me That You Were Somewhat Flirtatious Toward Her After The Incident Today At Grillby’s. You’re Sending Some Incredibly Mixed Signals, Sans. She More Than Likely Was Under The Impression That You Have Some Very Strong Feelings For Her, But Then You Came Home And Basically Told Her To Get Lost Before Throwing Her At The Coffee Table. She Has No Idea Where She Stands Right Now. The Other Half Of What You Need To Do Is Be Honest With Her. Tell Her If You Feel Something For Her, Or Tell Her If You Don’t. Just Make It Clear To Her So She Knows What She Is To You.”

Bolting upright into a sitting position, Sans stared up at his younger brother in disbelief, “So you’re suggestin’ that I go confess my love ta her or somethin’? Is that what you’re tryna tell me right now, Papyrus?” “If You Love Her, Then Yes, That Is Exactly What I’m Trying To Tell You.” Pressing his index and middle finger to one of his temples, the older of the two narrowed his sockets, grumbling under his breath, “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me… this is so stupid…” Taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside Sans, Papyrus arched a brow bone and tilted his head, “Language, Brother… All Of This Might Seem Stupid To You, Maybe, But It’s A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Addressed. If You Really See Her As Your Mate, She Needs To Know. And Hey, It’s Alright To Feel Embarrassed About This Sort Of Thing. It’s Completely Natural. For Starters, Maybe You Could Try To Help Me Better Understand Your Reasons For Marking Her? I’m All Ears! In A... Manner Of Speaking.”

Sans snuck an uncertain glance up at him and let out a deep sigh, leaning forward to cover both eyes with his hands, “...Don’t make me talk about this right now, Pap. Please. I can’t do it. I just can’t, what if I-” Papyrus was quick to wrap his arms around his older brother, lightly squeezing his shoulder, “Sans, No. Stop. You’re Overthinking Again. Take A Deep Breath And Try To Relax. It’s Just Me Here, And If You Preferred That I Don’t Tell Her What You Say, Then I Won’t. You Have My Word. Just Trust Me… That’s All I’m Asking Of You Right Now. Please, Just Trust Me.”

#writing #tw angst #tw mild violence #tw humiliation #oc insert #undertale #undertale au #horrortale #horrortale au #horrortale sans #horrortale papyrus #horror sans #axe sans #crooks papyrus

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mhdiaries · 4 years

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SDCC 2015 Kieran Valentine Diary

May 1st

When I left Monster High after Draculaura’s Sweet 1,600 birthday party, I was angry, humiliated and stinky from falling into that pit of eternal body odor. I stank so bad, Mom wouldn’t even let me in the house: I had to sleep in the guest room above the garage. Looking back, I can see it was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Even my considerable powers to charm were no match for the power of the stench that surrounded me. My powers slowly weakened as I was deprived of what sustained them: the love I selfishly took from others. I was in a stench-induced imprisonment - rarely leaving the garage - but it allowed me time to do some serious thinking, and I realized I wasn’t being true to myself. Then one day there was a knock at my door, and I opened it to see a little old goblin woman with a cane staring up at me through thick glasses. “I’m Mrs. Goblin, but you can call me “Mrs. Goblin.” I’m a friend of your mother’s.” She said, “you need to get out of that room, and I need some help, so let’s go.” She turned and walked off, and, with nothing left to lose, I followed. It turned out that she ran an unwanted-creature shelter and couldn’t keep up with all the cleaning, feeding and daily upkeep. It also turned out that she had no sense of smell. “Lost it back in ‘72,” she told me. Mrs. G. ran me through the daily routines and gave me the tour. “You can start today,” she said as she handed me a mop and a bucket. It’s hard to believe I agreed, but I didn’t have any other options. The shelter was home to an unusual collection of exotic creatures: gremlins, flying monkeys, lap dragons, miniature manticores, and many others that had been picked up as strays or turned in by monsters who didn’t want them. Even though the work was hard, and not always pleasant, I began to look forward to it. In fact, I usually felt more energized after I finished a day than when I started. I felt my powers returning and every day I got stronger. Eventually, I mentioned it to Mrs. Goblin who snickered, “You emotional vampires never get it - stolen love is just empty calories. I’ll never sustain you for long.” She could tell I still didn’t get it. “Love that’s freely given is the most powerful source of energy in the monster universe. You’ve been coming here every day, taking care of these critters, showing them kindness, and the only thing they have to give you is their love - and believe me, they have a lot to give.” I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. I must have been standing there looking stupid because she said, “Close your mouth before the the flies get in and go clean the flying monkey cage. They’ve been throwing stuff again.” I was in a daze. Why had no one ever explained this to me? Rather than dwelling on it, I was just happy I finally knew.

May 3rd

I now know that I did it - stealing love - because I thought that’s want an emotional vampire was supposed to do. But it never felt quite right. I thought if I kept doing it, it would eventually feel right. But it only made me angry and frustrated. Then when Draculaura called me - well, Toralei, really - I thought that if I could get the heart that got away, it would change me and everything would be fine. But I was just a real pain in the fang to everyone and made a fool of myself. So I’ve come to a conclusion: being myself has to be easier than not being myself, right? Back then, I hated the thought of who I really was, and that conflict made me become someone who wasn’t me. It’s time to be true to myself, but it’s scary.

July 1st

Today was my one-year anniversary at the shelter. As I left the garage, I ran into Mom. She sniffed. “You don’t stink anymore.” It was true - the stench was gone. I gave Mom a hug and told her it must be due to what I’d learned from working for Mrs. Goblin. I thanked Mom for telling her I needed help. Mom looked at me strangely, “What are you going on about? I don’t know a Mrs. Goblin.” What? I ran to the shelter but when I got there it was boarded up and empty. How could this be? I crawled through a broken out window. A thick layer of dust covered everything and it looked like no one had been there in years. Then I noticed a piece of paper on the table where Mrs. G. used to sit and drink her tea. It was a not addressed to me:

There’s nothing more I can teach you. The rest will come when you put what you’ve learned into practice. Know that you are loved for what, and who you are.

Sincerely,

“Mrs. Goblin”

P.S. Do the right thing or I’ll come back and make you clean out flying monkey cages again.

July 2nd

I decided that I would try and “do the right thing” by heading back to MH to try and make up for my mistakes. I thought if I hid in the shadows and helped the couples of MH, you know be a Cupid to what was my destruction of love, I could make a difference and they would see that I was a changed monster. Well, my intentions were good, but things did not go as I had planned. I kinda, no, did, mess things up. Luckily, it all seemed to work out in the end, I guess, just not as I had hoped. I don’t think any of Draculaura and her friends will ever really trust me. And while I hope one day they can see I have changed, I know it will take time, too. I guess I can’t expect them to just forgive me right away. I will say one good thing hopefully came out of it. While attempting to hide in the shadows I bumped into a student I didn’t recognize. He said his name was Spelldon Cauldronello, he had only been at MH a couple weeks as he had been traveling with his older sister. Meeting him totally made me space and forget to send a text that was supposed to help Clawd. He asked if I went to MH and I said I was just visiting, but I would love to go to MH one day if I can. He said he’d keep me up on the groanings on around the halls if I wanted, so I gave him my number. At least the trip wasn’t a total stake. I do wish I could figure out how to make it up to Draculaura and her friends though. I know now that real friends help each other with their problems, not try to solve them for them.

July 7th

I was tempted to stay in my room today and treat myself to a monstrous blue funk, but, instead, I walked aimlessly outside until I found myself sitting on the beach watching the sun go down. That’s when I noticed something unusual partially buried in the sand. I pulled it out and die-scovered it was an ornate lantern caked with seaweed. I brushed it off... and got the shock of my unlife! The lantern began vibrating and glowing, like I had awakened something inside and it was not trying to get out. I dropped it like it was hot and fell back as smoke swirled up and out of this thing. When the smoke cleared away there was a ghoul floating above me. “I am the djinni of the lantern. What is your wish?”

July 10th

The djinni’s name is Whisp and we have something in common: the direction of our unlives changed because of Monster High. We shared our stories and struggles; neither of us has made the beast decisions, but we both want to be better monsters. We talked so much that Whisp had to remind me I had three wishes. I asked her I should wish for and she said, “I cannot tell you what to wish for, nor can I tell you what not to wish for, but I can say be scareful what you wish for.” I laughed and told her that sounded ominous. She didn’t see the humor in her statement. “Wishes are tricky things,” she replied, “They often have a mind of their own and don’t always come true in the way you expected.” I thought for a moment, and wish I could go back to Monster High and fix the things I had broken. Whisp rose into the air, her eyes glowing, and said, “As you wish.” Instantly, I was back at Draculaura’s Sweet 1600 party, only I was dressed like a repairman - tool belt and all. Headless Headmistress Bloodgood stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. “You need to repair the barrier around the pit of eternal body odor before another monster falls into it!” This wasn’t what I meant by “fixing what I had broken,” and there was no way I was getting close to that pit again. That’s when the other students saw me. A very large minotaur pointed his finger at me, “There he is again! Throw him back into the pit!” I wished myself out of MH and back in my room just in time to avoid another dunking. Two wishes down, one to go.

July 12th

Whisp has been very apologetic but she needn’t be. I wished for something so general that it could have been granted in numerous ways. What I really wanted was a chance to do something unselfish for the monsters I hurt - to give and not take. When I started working for Mrs. G., there were times I wished what someone else would do the dirty work so I could just play with the creatures. Now I know I just wished it to be easy. Whenever I was in the middle of something particularly loathsome, Mrs. G. would cackle, “Sometimes work stinks, doesn’t it?” The first few times she said it, I wanted to drop everything and go home. But I stuck it out, and, although I still have a long way to go, I’m a better monster for it. Unlife is a lot of work and I guess some problems aren’t meant to be solved by wishing them so. Speaking of wishes, I need to think of something non-ambiguous for the last one...

August 1st

I summoned Whisp today to grant my final wish. I admit I put it off because I was being selfish. I’ve never had a friend like her, and once my last wish is granted, the lantern will move on and I will probably never see her again. I considered freeing her from the lantern, but I don’t think she wants that: she loves being a djinni, appearing in new places and granting wishes. But I know she gets lonely at times, so this was my wish: “Whisp, I wish we could always be friends.” Whisp rose up, her eyes glowing: “As you wish!” I could see her smiling as she turned to smoke and returned to the lantern, which shot up and disappeared. I thought for a second that my wish wasn’t granted, but then my iCoffin lit up and I noticed a new app icon that looked like a little mirror. I tapped it and there was Whisp! Now, not matter where in the monster universe she is, we can talk to each other! “Yes, Mother, I’m talking to myself down here.”

#monster high #monster high diary #kieran valentine #sdcc 2015

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sasster · 3 years

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I dunno if you guys can tell but I haven’t done a lot of fantroll stuff lately. Or really. Much of anything. But I DID write this.

Mind this is just some oc species shit, BUT it would mean quite a lot to me if you guys read it. Since it’s the... Longest thing I’ve written in .. All of 2021? Yike!

Anyway, as usual, here is a link to a google doc if reading it on my blog upsets the minds eye.

----

“You know that we are practically Gods in comparison, right? It is a marvel that my people are not in the conquering business. We would be very good at it, do you not agree?”

Their captor spoke with a high in their voice, Qei was positive that they’d gotten their hands on some sort of mind altering substance to get them into the mindset that they were in -- Well, how else could you explain prattling on your master plan to a supposed lesser species? He found it rather foolish for the younger Cardali to speak so loudly and so boldly in front of newly rounded up prisoners. That was to say nothing to the tragically gaudy and unnecessary large castle-like structure that he and the four others of his crew were dragged to. Truly, he’d never seen such high ceilings outside of the Temples on Cardalith. What a waste of resources.

The upside is that the People of Aeilur were a remarkably easy species to mimic. They have no real sexual dimorphism, at least not one noticeable from the outside looking in, nor do they spend a lot of their time on ridiculous beauty standards. They were just a product of their world. Aeilur is a beautiful planet, actually, lush with fauna and vegetation long extinct on most other worlds. A strong, sturdy, practical people, with pacifism practiced down to an art, they wouldn’t raise arms even if an entire army to make a grab for their planet and it’s bountiful resources. It was Falarittus’ responsibility to help keep such things from occurring.

Qei could see how an opportunistic megalomaniac might have taken advantage of such information, he just never thought that he would see the day that one such megalomaniac would be an Ambassador of Cardalith, one of their own. He was disgusted.

There is a tug at the shackles that restrain his top set of hands, indicating that while he was lost in thought he’d stopped shuffling behind. He emits a low inquisitive grunt, he was going his usual hm, but he supposes that this is the only translation his current form could offer. How fascinating! He’d have to make plans to spend more time with the People of Aeilur. Under less pressing circumstances.

There is another sharp tug at his reins and he resumes trudging along behind the madman. How humiliating. Demoralizing. It was important for him to experience this though, so that he could speak to his short experience under their thumb when it came time to trial. There would be a trial. Not that Qei was worried that Falarittus would have much of a case. It would be short.

Not as short as it would have been if Qei were to let his patron in on the manhunt -- Why that temperamental giant would have lost it before they even stepped foot into this… Mansion? Seriously, this thing was gaudy. Might’ve burned the whole thing down Himself. No matter, this was always going to be a job for Qei. He even felt bad bringing along a crew with him. Diollea insisted he bring back up “just in case”.

He threw a worried glance over his shoulder to gauge them. They seemed comfortable, and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

Oh. Right, Falarittus was still talking.

“Once they see what I’ve done for the people of this world, the Gods themselves would shower me in praise. My peers and superiors would turn to me for guidance in the new age!”

It looks like Qei tuned back in just in time for a gem! He couldn’t help himself as the air quickly expelled from his new and quite long proboscis, which resulted in trumpets quite a bit louder than he was anticipating. He thinks this might be what a laugh is for this species. He did not intend to be laughing, but the idea that their creators would entertain the idea of the subjugation of any species, let alone one so peaceful as the People of Aeilur, was preposterous!

Only an idiot who made their home the size of a mall would have such delusions.

“What is so funny, worm?”

Worm! Perhaps not letting Diollea come was the mistake, this miserable pile of goo would long be ashes in that event. The trumpets were coming in spurts now, and Qei’s guess was that these were the equivalent of hiccups or maybe wheezing.

Qei’s crew took some steps back as Falarittus took the several steps to close the gaps between them. Now, naturally, Falarittus and Qei were eye level, but in this form they only came to just about chest level with him. Gentle, emphasis on the giant, indeed. The latters trunk swayed between them with a gentle undulation in a behavior that Qei was actually quite familiar with! Taunting.

He’d only seen it when three sisters prepared for a friendly bout of wrestling upon their reunion; It was cute. This was not.

“Oh, did you want to fight? Is that it? Did you plan to be the warrior of your people?”

Qei merely held up his two sets of shackled hands, hands big enough to hold Falarittus’ head in it. Hands that could crack their skull like a fragile piece of pottery if he were so inclined. He could not disrespect this form with violence, though, he thinks.

The bitter laugh that erupted from the man opposite him was unlike anything he’d ever heard come from the mouth of another Cardali, and he has met many of them in his day. It was almost ear splitting and made the hairs from his arms to his chest stand on end. Danger receptors? Very nice.

“It is not in you to fight, but please raise your hands to me so that I may cite self defense back to my superiors.”

There was a sick smirk on their face as they pulled a set of keys from their robes -- Robes, they were wearing robes like some sort of high priest in a fantasy story book -- and began to unlock the cruel piece of metal from Qei’s top set of arms. This was ideal, as he was fairly certain this is the set that translates back to the singular set of arms in his natural form, as they did not rudely burst from his shoulder blades like the second set did.

“Let's keep it fair, I only have the one pair after all.”

“Fair?” His own voice was quite alien to him, raspy and guttural as it tried to form words unfamiliar to the vocal cords tongue he borrowed to speak. Standard was not a language that belonged in this mouth.

“Fair. Say it with me. F-er.” Holy. Xenophobia. How did this pass the sniff test? No, there had to be another traitor in their ranks for such an awful wretched soul to have been left alone here. An example was to be made, and Qei would make sure that it was handled swiftly. The only good news was that this was so early on, that there was just this region of the planet that experienced it. Which was a really bad thing to think was a good thing. But there was a chance that the People of Aeilur would continue to allow Cardalith’s aid.

“Fair.” Qei said, once again the word barely made it past his tusks in one piece.

Falarittus cackled wildly at this attempt as Qei closed his eyes and focused his energy intro retracting that disrespectful set of arms back into his body, he’d been shifting for quite long time at this point in his life, so the rest of the shift passed by with a pleasant hum and totally not worth describing from the inside.

He reopened his eyes to the sound of metal hitting the floor, he was now looking at his own hands, ambient green glow and birthmarks exactly where he’d left them. They were clenched into tight fists. Most importantly, though, he was staring straight into the shell shocked eyes of the once quite full of himself clown.

“Fair enough?”

“Qei’eleritte, wait, let's talk about this --”

He swung hard, possibly with more force than intended, because they crumpled to the floor almost instantly. Behind him, he could hear the humored trumpeting of his still disguised crew behind him.

This could have been so much worse.

#coko writes sometimes #qei things #waves hello #owo)/#i would appreciate feedback but if you're mean i'll cry

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naminethewriter · 3 years

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The Proposition

Day 4! 🥳🥳🥳 Halfway done and I still can’t get myself to start writing at a reasonable time... Oh well, as long as they get done 🤭 Anyway, this story is a kinda prequel to my Big Bang fic Vacation. It can be read as a stand alone though. Have fun! 💙💚 @intrulogicalweek2021

Here on Ao3

Masterpost | Intrulogical Week 2021 Masterpost

Characters: Remus, Logan

Relationship: platonic Intrulogical

Rating: G

Words: 1,244

Summary: Remus has an offer for Logan after he once again had a fight with the others.

As soon as the fighting started, Remus went to wait by Logan’s room. It’s been happening more and more recently and Logan in particular suffered from it. Remus told himself he sought out the logical side after those moments to mess with him, pull him further away from the light but he didn’t really need Janus to tell him that he was lying to himself. They were just petty excuses. But he didn’t want to think deeper about why else he’d do it, so excuses it was!

It took about half an hour for things to calm down again. Not the calm kinda calm but the heavy one that told Remus that there once again had been no real resolution, just a bunch of cowards running away from the true problems. But that wasn’t one of his problems, he wasn’t their therapist. On the contrary, it gave him more ammunition to torture them and Thomas later.

Nobody used the hallway to get back to their rooms. Probably to avoid running into each other. So no one came to lecture Remus about hanging out on the light side. Which was good because none of the others would be happy with seeing him press his hand against Logan’s door. In doing so he could feel Logan’s thoughts easier, most of them so dark and negative that they bordered on Remus’ specialty. Logan was angry, at the others and at himself, and Remus knew from experience that he should give him some time to cool off before he went inside. After another five minutes, he felt save to do so.

He appeared on Logan’s bed, unnoticed by the logical side himself who was pacing up and down the room, muttering to himself. Remus worried. Normally the effects of the room should have helped Logan calm down more than it had. With every fight it seemed to take more and more time. A dangerous development. Remus watched for a few more moments before speaking up.

“You look like a rat crawled up your butt and started eating your intestines.” To Logan’s credit, he didn’t startle as bad as the first few times Remus had done that. He barely even flinched. Just turned towards Remus, pinched his nose, and took a deep breath.

“Didn’t I ask you no to enter my room without permission?”

“Probably.”

“And you disregarded that request, why exactly?”

“Felt like it.” Logan sighed.

“What are you doing here, Remus?”

“Heard the yelling,” he shrugged. “Wanted to see if you finally ripped their heads off.”

“Evidently, I did not. Now please leave.”

“You know, if they annoy you that much, you should just become a dark side like Janny and me.” Logan stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. Remus continued when he didn’t say anything. “I mean, you’d show them just how badly they’ve been treating you and Jan and I would listen. Jan loves debates and I have lots of questions that we could research together.”

Remus hated how hopeful he felt as he waited for Logan to answer. As if he’d actually do it. Logan was way too proud to let himself go like that. But he couldn’t help but imagine how fun it would be to have the logical side around all the time, especially since Janus has been spending more and more time with Patton recently.

“While I value your input, Remus, I do not think that would be very productive. Especially considering that with Janus’ steps toward acceptance, the border between what you call ‘dark’ and ‘light’ sides has been figuratively blurry at best. No, it would be only seen as me throwing a tantrum and lead to the opposite effect that you seem to be hoping for.”

“You’re no fun,” Remus pouted.

“Being fun is not one of my functions. Please visit Patton or your brother if you seek to be entertained.” Remus grimaced and acted like he had to throw up.

“Not a chance.”

“Then I am afraid I cannot help you. I wish you a pleasant evening.” Logan turned towards his desk, clearly believing the conversation to be over. Remus wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy.

“What about a break then? The way it’s been going, on of you is going to snap. And my money’s on you.”

“What are you saying? There is no money on me,” Logan said, facing back towards the bed. Remus rolled his eyes.

“It’s a saying, dork. I mean I’m betting that your fuse is the first to go off.” Logan opened his mouth, probably to object to having a fuse but Remus just kept talking. “My point is that you and the others can’t manage to resolve whatever problems you’re having so you should take a – figurative – step back and re-evaluate. If you put some distance between you and the others it might be easier to find a solution.”

“I…” Logan stared at him, apparently at a loss for words. “That is a valued point, Remus. I did not think you had thought this through so much.” Remus just shrugged and Logan went deep in thought for a few moments. “While I admit your idea has merit and Janus has given similar advice, I am afraid I do not know how it could work. I mean, we are just a part of Thomas’ mind, there is nowhere for me to go to create said distance. Unless I try to ‘duck out’ as Virgil attempted but we all saw how detrimental that was to Thomas’ state of mind.”

“What about the imagination? Lots of space there.”

“Indeed. But it is under Roman’s jurisdiction and considering that he is one of the people I would try to avoid most that seems counterproductive.”

“Not on my side.” Logan eyes him carefully before speaking again.

“With all due respect, Remus, I do not have as much of a problem with your work as the others but I am not keen on spending time in an area filled with it. I would need a quiet space without chaos and…”

“I have a library,” Remus interrupted. Logan’s eyes widened and he stepped closer.

“You do?”

“Yeah. My ideas are more effective if they’re realistic, so there is lots of knowledge I have stored there. It’s one of my favourite places and hard to get to for others. I can prepare a room to stay for you and a kitchen and what not. You would have nothing to worry about.”

“I-… That is very generous of you, Remus.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged. “I’ve been just kinda bored recently and not gonna lie, but just imagining the faces of the others when they see that you’d rather spent time with me than with them is priceless!” Remus cackled and even Logan smiled slightly. “So, you in?”

And as quick as it came as quick did the smile leave. Logan furrowed his brow and quietly thought for a few minutes while Remus impatiently fidgeted on his bed.

“Your proposition is certainly intriguing. However” – Remus deflated a bit – “it is a big decision I am unwilling to make on the spot. Even if you did manage to convince me, I would still need to prepare. I cannot simply neglect my duties.” Remus sighed deeply.

“Fiiiiiiine. But promise you’ll think about it?” He stared at Logan expectantly and saw a hint of the smile returning.

“Alright, Remus. I promise to give it more thought.”

18 notes · View notes

rainecreatesstuff · 3 years

Text

escaping is not the same as running away- chapter 3

thoughts are not for the lonely:

Characters: Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy, Michael_Beloved

Relationships: Ranboo & Tubbo (qp), Tommy & Tubbo (p), Tommy & Ranboo (p), Ranboo & Michael_Beloved (f), Tubbo and Michael_Beloved (f)

Warnings: Mentions of martyrdom and martyr ideologies, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks.

Summary:

Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy, and Michael continue their journey to escape the SMP. Includes Bench Trio goofs, Allium Duo heart-to-hearts, and Michael_Beloved. Enjoy! :)

Ranboo glanced up at the sky as he rowed. The moon was reaching its apex, shining down brightly on the waves that surrounded them. A few clouds dotted the sky here and there, but overall, the skies were clear, giving a view of a beautiful starry sky. Tubbo was gazing at the stars with admiration. Ranboo wondered if his husband had ever seen the night sky so clearly before.

“Hey Tubso, you alright there?” Tommy asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” Tubbo glanced back to Tommy for a moment, then returned his gaze to the sky.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ranboo gently poked Tubbo’s foot with his own.

Tubbo pulled his gaze down to Ranboo, and paused for a moment, as if he were recollecting his thoughts.

“Just can’t remember the last time the sky was this clear.”

“God, yeah, last time we saw this many stars must’ve been before L’Manburg, huh?” Tommy rowed a few meters ahead of them, then took his hands off the paddles and stretched.

Looks like they were taking a break, then. Ranboo slowed the boat down, bringing it to float beside Tommy’s.

“Was the light pollution all that bad in early L’Manburg?” Ranboo stretched his back, bringing his hands above his head.

“Eh, early-early L’Manburg not so much, but once the walls were built…”

“Yeah, we had torches on the top, and also buildings n shit were popping up all over the place, so.”

Ranboo hummed.

“Then, of course, Manburg was pretty shit, and there was a bunch of light, and you were there for New L’Manburg, which glowed like a Christmas tree that's been set on fire, so, y’know, not a lot of stars.” Tubbo carefully shifted Michael in his arms as he spoke, laying the toddler down so his head rested on Tubbo’s lap.

“There were a lot of lanterns,” Ranboo stated grimly.

Tubbo laughed.

“Yeah, there were. Gotta admit they were pretty though.”

“Oh, definitely. Definitely fit the aesthetic.”

Tommy snorted.

“‘The Aesthetic.’ You can say spruce wood.”

“Oh shut up, spruce is a great block to build with.” Tubbo cut in.

“You could have chosen oak wood and cobblestone, but you went with spruce.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we didn’t want it to look like an abomination.”

“Oak and cobble are lovely blocks! You know why so many villages are built with them? Because they look good. You know why so few villages are built with spruce? It’s a lesser block.”

“Mhm, you’re one to talk about what looks good. Not like you’ve built several ugly cobblestone railroads.”

“My railroads are beautiful.”

Ranboo laughed as quietly as he could at the back and forth, not wanting to draw their attention away. They continued arguing, and Ranboo saw Michael stir a bit.

“Tubbo.”

Tubbo’s head shot in his husband’s direction, then down at Michael, who was blinking sleepily. Tubbo’s face became one of pure agony.

“It’s alright, go back to sleep. Sorry about that Mikey.” Tubbo gently ran his hand through Michael’s mane, soothing him back to sleep.

The toddler mumbled something half-heartedly, and was out again. Partially against their own wills, Ranboo and Tubbo both let out a sigh of relief.

“Who knew all it took to make Tubbo go soft was a piglin child,” Tommy said, an amused smile on his face.

“You haven’t dealt with a toddler that doesn’t want to sleep before man.” Ranboo gazed at Tommy with what he hoped would be read as horror.

Tubbo laughed quietly as Tommy snorted.

“Can’t be that big of a deal.”

Tubbo perked up.

“Great! Once we’ve got our houses and stuff built, he can stay in yours for a night! I’m sure you’ll have so much fun!” Tubbo spoke with a practiced smile and a faux-cheery tone, his eyes aflame with something sinister.

Sometimes Ranboo was reminded of just how happy he was that he wasn’t Tubbo’s enemy.

“Ahahaaa… yeah… sure…” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, “Let’s keep going, yeah?”

Tubbo cackled, and Ranboo rolled his eyes fondly.

“I thank the gods above every day that you’ll never have the opportunity to be a suburban mom.” Ranboo took the paddles back in his hands and began rowing again, straightening out so he was travelling in the right direction.

“Fuck you, I’d be a great suburban mom.”

“Yeah, that’s my fear.”

“He’d be terrifying. He would rule the neighbourhood with an iron fist. Michael would be an iPad kid.” Tommy tossed in.

“Oh gods, no. Not an iPad kid.”

“Yes, Ranboo, an iPad kid. And you would be a malewife.”

Ranboo spluttered, laughing.

“I- why?”

Tommy levelled him with an unimpressed look.

“Well, look at you.”

Tubbo turned away sharply, holding a fist to his mouth in a desperate attempt to stop himself from laughing. The other hand still ran soothingly through Michael’s hair.

“Gee, thanks, Tommy, really- really means a lot, man.”

Tommy snickered as Tubbo coughed into his fist. Tubbo eventually regained his composure, and turned back to Ranboo.

“Aw, it’s okay Boo. You’d make a great malewife.”

“I hate every part of this. I’m going back.” Ranboo mocked jumping out of the boat.

“Noooo, Boo, I didn’t mean it. You’re not a malewife I promise.”

“When we find land I am throwing you.”

“You will not.”

“I will.”

“No.”

“The decision has already been made, Tubbo. There is no going back now.”

Tubbo groaned lightheartedly as Ranboo laughed quietly to himself. Tommy laughed beside them.

“Tubbo will simply kick you lots. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Tubbo froze, and Ranboo paused, slowly turning to face Tommy.

“Wait, have you never picked up Tubbo before?”

“Not successfully.”

Ranboo grinned. Tubbo glared at him with fire in his eyes.

“Ranboo. I will make you regret every decision you have ever made if you tell him.”

“Jokes on you, I already regret most of my decisions,” Ranboo turned back to Tommy, “So, like he just doesn’t let you, or…?”

Tommy’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I- yeah? Like he just kicks you, right? And then squirms out.”

“Tommy, my friend, you have been going about this the wrong way,”

“Ranboo I swear to all things holy if you mutter another word-“

“So, basically, you kinda just have to-“

“Ranboo-“

“Put your hands under his arms and hold him out, like a-“

“I’m going to kill you-“

“Displeased cat.”

“You’re so dead. You are all types of dead. I am going to push you out of this boat.”

Tubbo reached over and shoved Ranboo as much as he could without waking up the toddler asleep on his lap. Ranboo laughed evilly as Tommy watched the two with confusion.

“What, and he’ll stop kicking?”

“Oh, no, he’ll still kick, but his legs won’t be able to reach you. He’ll just tire himself out until you can carry him normally.”

“I hate you so much.” Tubbo pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

Ranboo giggled, “Aw, thanks, love you too, Bo.”

Tommy was looking between Ranboo and Tubbo with something akin to awe.

“Ranboo. My friend. You have made a revolutionary discovery. You have done the gods’ work.”

“Tommy if you even try to pick me up, I will just kill you in your sleep.”

“Ah, but now I have the knowledge that I can simply just pick you up and you will be rendered defenceless.”

Tubbo huffed.

“You two are lucky you’re my friends.”

“We are,” Ranboo said without thinking.

Tubbo visibly softened, like a switch had been flipped. He looked as if he was about to say something, then stopped himself, tilting his head downwards to look at Michael as his hand combed through the kid’s hair. Tommy fake-gagged, and Tubbo rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Shut up, Tommy.”

Tommy laughed, and a pleasant quiet settled over the trio. Ranboo and Tommy rowed in silence as Tubbo began humming a song Ranboo had never heard before. They continued on until it must’ve been one or two in the morning, what with the moon being where it was. Ranboo was beginning to grow sore, and he was sure Tommy must be as well. Tubbo yawned as Ranboo slowed down the boat, Tommy coming to a drift beside them.

“Should we take a break for now?” Ranboo let go of the paddles, not waiting for an answer.

“Please.” Tommy shook his hands before pulling them to his chest and examining them.

Ranboo hoped he hadn’t gotten any splinters. Those would be a pain to deal with right now.

Tubbo rubbed his eyes before turning his head back up to face Ranboo.

“Do you want me to take over for a while?”

“No, you need sleep too, you haven’t slept well recently.” Ranboo reached across the boat to brush Tubbo’s hair out of his eyes, making eye contact with him briefly.

That was something Ranboo had been noticing recently. As much as Tubbo did try to accommodate for his usual dislike of eye contact, he hadn’t found himself becoming agitated at eye contact with Tubbo for a while. If he held it too long, it became uncomfortable, but he suspected that it was mostly just social awkwardness, nothing Enderman-y. He did find that he enjoyed making eye contact with Tubbo though, just for a couple moments when they were safe at home. It felt the same way that giving a hug did.

Tubbo blinked once, then drew his gaze away from Ranboo’s. Ranboo tried to ignore the disappointment that came with it.

“I’ll be fine if I need to.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to. Get some rest. I’ll be fine.”

Tubbo eyed him suspiciously.

“You’ll wake me if you need anything. Got it?”

“Of course.”

“… Alright.” Tubbo carefully pulled Michael into his arms, then slowly sat down on the floor of the boat.

Ranboo turned around and grabbed a blanket from one of their bags, draping it over Tubbo and Michael. He passed Tubbo a rolled-up hoodie, which Tubbo put behind his head to act as a sort of travel pillow. Tubbo yawned again, pulling a yawn from Ranboo and Tommy as well.

“Goodnight, Boo.”

“Night Bo.”

“Night Toms.”

“Sleep well Tubs.”

And with that, Tubbo promptly passed out. Ranboo quietly giggled to himself at how quickly Tubbo fell asleep. A part of him was glad Tubbo felt so safe around him, but another worried how tired he must have been to have fallen asleep like that. Ranboo turned around, surveying their surroundings.

A shoal was just a hundred or so metres away. He pointed it out to Tommy, who groaned theatrically, then picked his paddles back up and began rowing in the direction of the shoal. Ranboo followed, and they carefully docked their boats as best they could in the sand. Ranboo grabbed a piece of rope from his own bag, and tied his and Tommy’s boats together.

“Just in case.” He smiled, and Tommy nodded.

Tommy stretched, and got into a similar position to Tubbo’s. Instead of falling asleep, though, he turned to the horizon, watching the waves.

Ranboo opened his bag completely, checking on Enderchest, who seemed displeased. The cat meowed unhappily as Ranboo picked her up, placing her on his lap. She stepped off his lap and onto the seat, batting at his hands as he tried to stop her. She settled on the edge of the boat, looking down into the shallow water curiously. With a quick whap at the water, her ears flattened, and she returned to Ranboo’s lap.

He pet her for a while until a loud purr rumbled from her throat. Ranboo opened his inventory, grabbing a couple small fish, and fed her.

“Get why Tubbo calls you a catboy now.”

“C’mon, man, it was so peaceful.”

Tommy cackled.

“You did start purring the second your cat did. You are literally just a big cat.”

Ranboo tried to will his tail to stop hitting the floor in an annoyed manner. It did not work.

“No. Go to sleep.”

Tommy laughed, but pulled a blanket onto himself.

“I take it you don’t plan on sleeping?”

“No. I figure someone should stay awake, just in case something happens. A storm could roll in, or something.” Ranboo idly pet Enderchest as he spoke.

He didn’t mention that being surrounded by water prevented him from calming down enough to sleep, but it seemed like minor enough of a detail to leave out.

Tommy hummed.

“You mentioned… You mentioned Tubbo hasn’t been sleeping?”

Ranboo bit his lip.

“Yeah. He’s, uh, he’s been staying out later, not coming back until well after Michael’s gone to bed. And then he’ll usually stay at his desk for a few hours before I can convince him to come to bed. At least, at least when I’m around.” Ranboo sighed.

“Can’t say I haven’t found him asleep at his desk when I’ve come to visit, though.”

“Really?” Tommy seemed taken aback.

Ranboo frowned.

“I mean, yeah? It’s not really all that surprising that he stays up late, I mean, when I’m there I usually have to like- lure him to bed with promises of like, his favourite breakfast or something in the morning.”

“…Huh.”

“Is that.. abnormal, for him?” Ranboo’s tail swished against the floor.

“Uh, no, not the overworking part. Surprised you find him at his desk though. As long as I’ve known him he’s always woken up at sunrise.”

“Even when he’s been up late?”

“Especially then,” Tommy picked at a loose thread in his blanket, “He slept pretty lightly most nights, but especially when he was up late, so he’d wake up the second the sun got in the windows.”

Ranboo hummed. That was… weird. Since he began staying in the same house as Tubbo, Tubbo usually wouldn’t wake up until at least eight or nine. He told this to Tommy, whose eyebrows raised with surprise. Ranboo watched as Tommy bit his lip, then looked up at Ranboo pensively. Ranboo suddenly felt the urge to sit up straighter.

“What?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You. And Tubbo.” Tommy’s gaze drifted over to the goat hybrid, who was still fast asleep beside his son.

“What about us?”

“… Just that it’s good you help him sleep ‘n take care of himself ‘n shit.”

Ranboo felt his face grow warm against his will.

“Oh, I don’t- I don’t think it’s me, I think it’s probably just ‘cause he’s, he’s uh, not president and stuff anymore? So he’s probably been a lot more relaxed.”

Tommy looked at him amusedly.

“I’ve known Tubbo for a while. When we first met, he’d wake up at sunrise to take care of his bees and check up on his redstone machines. He was a bit like a farm boy in that regard,” Tommy said, turning his gaze back to the ocean.

“Then, the independence war happened, and we were trained to wake up at sunrise every day. Even when we stayed up until ridiculous hours, sitting around a campfire and singing and being dumb, Wilbur would be in our bunks at five in the morning with a bell. You don’t just lose that kind of training. Hell, I didn’t lose it ‘til I stayed with Techno.”

Ranboo wondered a bit where this was going.

“Then of course there was the Schlatt presidency, and Pogtopia. And I think I saw Tubbo sleep a total of three times when he was with us. Then he was president, and I’m not sure his sleep schedule ever improved.”

Ranboo hummed.

“Yeah, I get that. I, um, used to wander around L’Manburg at night sometimes and, and he was usually also out, or his lights were on.” Ranboo recalled.

“Exactly. Even when he first started Snowchester, as far as I know he never stopped waking up at sunrise. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he didn’t sleep much.”

“Yeah. He, uh, he seemed like- gaunt, almost.”

“Yeah.”

Tommy sighed.

“Point is, you’ve gotten him to break that habit, which is pretty fucking awesome, so. Good job, or whatever.”

Ranboo felt distinctly out of his area of expertise. He hadn’t really done anything. If anything, he’d probably annoyed Tubbo into sleeping in.

“I- um, thank you? But honestly, I really didn’t do anything.”

Tommy glanced back over to him for a moment.

“Alright.”

The two fell into a soft silence, the only sound being the waves gently lapping against the side of their boats. Enderchest curled up in Ranboo’s lap, falling asleep quickly as he pet her. Tommy yawned, drawing a yawn from Ranboo as well.

Tommy stared out the side of his boat opposite to Ranboo, his gaze settled on the horizon. Ranboo wondered again how Tubbo had managed to convince Tommy to come with them. Of course, Ranboo was almost certain that if Tommy hadn’t come, they wouldn’t have left in the first place.

Even if he and Tubbo hadn’t been as close recently as they used to be, Tommy was Tubbo’s person. His “other half,” if you want to get cliche. There was no Tubbo without Tommy. At least, not the same Tubbo.

“How are you holding up with… with leaving?”

Tommy rolled his head back in Ranboo’s direction.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Memory Boy?” He grinned.

It was still deflection. Ranboo bit his lip.

“So. Um. I take it not that great, then?”

Tommy laughed quietly to himself.

“I don’t even know at this point. One second I’m over the moon and the next I feel like screaming.”

“I get that,” Ranboo spoke softly, “Or, I guess I don’t get it, really, but I understand. You guys have been there a lot longer than me. There were probably a lot of places and people that were really important to you.”

Tommy hummed.

“Yeah, something like that. It’s weird, innit? Knowing you’ll probably never see some of those people again.”

Ranboo had to agree. The fact that he might never hear Niki’s voice again nibbled at the back of his brain like a mouse. He hoped she’d be open to talk through their communicators, but really, at this point it was a coin toss with most people in the SMP.

“A bit, yeah. It feels kinda odd knowing that I’ll probably never pass by Foolish working on some big project again.”

“Or by Eret’s castle. That’s one of the big ones for me. Don’t know why, honestly.”

“Fair. Her castle was kinda like… a staple of the SMP.”

“The only thing that hasn’t been blown up at some point.”

“Gods bless the power of pride flags.”

Tommy laughed, his head falling back and hitting the seat gently. Ranboo smiled.

“The two greatest powers of the SMP: Withers, and six stripes of colour.” Tommy quipped.

“I mean, Techno’s house was technically blown up.”

Tommy threw him a curious look. Ranboo giggled to himself for a moment.

“Okay so, you know how Phil will like, hyper-focus on things sometimes?”

Tommy nodded.

“So, basically, he was showing his flock something, I think it was some trinket he’d found while he was adventuring. I guess he must’ve left the doors open, because this creeper just walked like, right in, nothing stopping it, and blew up.”

Tommy snorted.

“Dude, Phil was freaking out. Techno was literally on his way home from the Nether and like half of Techno’s chests and paintings and stuff had been blown up. So I go over to see what’s happened, and Phil is just sitting on the floor surrounded by pieces of paintings like it’s a puzzle.”

“Oh god, the old man has no spatial reasoning, did he fix it in time?”

“He saw me walk in, yelled ‘Don’t just stand there, help,’ and then threw a box of ripped up paintings at me.”

Tommy laughed, loud and clear, and Ranboo grinned.

“So we’re sitting there on the floor frantically putting these paintings back together, and Phil’s getting messages from Techno saying he’ll be home soon, and that’s just making us mess up more. And you’ve seen Techno’s house, half the paintings have the exact same colour palette, so we end up getting half of it wrong and slapping it on the wall anyways.”

Ranboo laughed quietly as Tommy buried his head in his knees to avoid laughing.

“Long story short, we did eventually get them figured out, and Techno walked in like, literally a minute later. Thing is, we forgot to cover up the scent of gunpowder, so.”

“Oh god, what did the Blade do when he found out?”

“Oh, man, it was terrifying. It was Phil, so of course Techno didn’t care, but Phil was gonna blame it on me. I would’ve died, man, that would’ve been it for me.”

Tommy chuckled.

“Nah, Techno’s got a soft spot for you. No way he’d kill his favourite random teenager he picked up off the street.”

“Oh! Speaking of that!”

Ranboo opened his inventory, carefully pulling out the netherite Techno had given him. He handed the full set to Tommy, who looked at it with awe in his eyes.

“Yoooo…” Tommy whispered, running his hands over it.

His hand paused at the collar of the chest plate, where the enchantments were inscribed.

“Techno made this.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement.

“Oh, yeah, I guess his writing is pretty recognizable.”

“No, I mean,” Tommy began handing it back to Ranboo, “He probably wouldn’t want me to use it, ‘specially if he gave it to you.”

Ranboo frowned, pushing the armour back.

“He gave it to me for you.”

Tommy looked taken aback, his mouth open slightly and his eyebrows high on his forehead. He pulled the armour back to his chest, running his thumb over the engraved enchantments.

“Good thing I left him the axe, then.” Tommy muttered.

Ranboo hummed.

“Do you want to try it on?”

“Nah, it’ll fit.” Tommy stared at the armour a moment longer, then woke from his stupor, opening his inventory and carefully placing the four armour pieces inside it.

If Ranboo didn’t know any better, he’d think Tommy was in shock. He was just kind of staring ahead of himself, a soft frown on his face. His hands fiddled with the blanket at his chest, and he chewed on his lip.

“Tommy? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, just thinking.”

“You seem to do that a lot.”

“Yeah.”

Ranboo continued petting Enderchest, praying silently that the lull in the conversation wasn’t an awkward one. He couldn’t always tell, so moments like these were a bit stressful. He felt like he should be filling it up in some way, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make Tommy talk if he didn’t want to.

“I, um, I know we’re not like, super close or anything, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here to listen.” He offered Tommy a smile, and Tommy smiled back awkwardly.

“Thanks big man.”

“Of course.”

Tommy stared at the water again for a few moments, before drawing in a breath.

“How has Techno been? Since, uh, since Doomsday? Haven’t really spoken to him.”

“Oh! I think he’s been doing pretty well. I uh, know it’s kind of a sore topic, but, uh, I think blowing up L’Manburg kinda got most of the vengeance out of him so, that’s good.”

Tommy snorted.

“Oh, Niki’s kind of been hanging out with us recently. Not a lot, but I think Techno really enjoys having her around. She’s very skilled and I think he respects her a lot.”

Tommy smiled.

“Good for them. He and Niki were friends back in Pogtopia, you know? So it’s nice they’re like, talking again.”

“Yeah. It was nice having Niki around. I think being around us also helped her. She seems happier than when she started coming around.”

“Yeah, Niki’s awesome.”

“Phil really likes having her around too, they’ll bake together some days. The crows love her, but they love pretty much everyone, so.”

Tommy stifled a laugh.

“Please, do not remind me of the birds. I was outside one day and I guess they thought my hair looked like gold because they decided to start plucking it.”

Ranboo laughed.

“You’ll be happy to know I’ve added one more bird to the ranks then.”

“You are everything that is wrong with this world.”

His laugh dissolved into a giggle, and Tommy giggled as well. The air had loosened again, and Ranboo could barely hold back his sigh of relief.

“But uh, yeah, Techno’s been well. He hibernated for a long while, and he’s been training quite a bit, but every time I’ve spoken to him he’s seemed pretty happy. Uh, until today, that is.”

“Did he give you trouble leaving?”

“Not really, but I think before I explained everything he kind of thought I was just leaving them? So he seemed kinda bitter at first, but once I explained everything he seemed fine.” Enderchest nearly rolled off his lap as he spoke, so he gently picked her up and placed her back in his bag, zipping it up halfway.

“That’s probably my fault.” Tommy’s voice was tinted with regret, the emotion evident on his face.

Ranboo bit his lip.

“I don’t think it’s your fault. He kind of put you in a difficult situation. Everyone did, if I’m being honest. You were kinda forced to choose between two people you cared about which pretty much never ends well.”

“I don’t regret choosing Tubbo. Do regret leaving Techno a bit. Weird innit?” Tommy rolled his head back, “That I can both regret and not regret the same decision.”

Ranboo hummed.

“I mean, I don’t think so. You were kinda forced to make two decisions, one being going with Tubbo and the other being leaving Techno. They were on opposite sides.”

“That’s your whole thing, yeah? Choosing people, not sides.”

“Yeah. I try not to choose sides whenever I can. I think it’s unfair to have to choose between people just because their ideologies don’t perfectly match up.”

“Fair. Would’ve been interesting to have you around during the first war. ‘M glad you didn’t come until later.”

Ranboo tilted his head.

“Why’s that?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably.

“There was a lot of choosing. Dream used to be our friend, y’know? Then, of course, Wilbur started L’Manburg and I guess Dream lost it a little bit. It was kinda like, if you weren’t on our side, you were on theirs, which obviously doesn’t make much sense in hindsight.” Tommy sighed.

“Just, you probably wouldn’t have had a very good time. Wilbur was… a little extreme at times. D’you know I died twice during that war?”

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah, once in the final control room, then again in a duel with Dream.” Tommy rubbed his chest as he spoke, like he could still feel the wounds.

“Yeah. Wilbur had a bit of a ‘Your country is more important than your life’ approach to things. Not that he wanted us to die, but. Y’know how it is.”

Ranboo distinctly did not “know how it is.” He wondered how often Wilbur spoke like that. He could feel dots connecting themselves as Tommy spoke.

“Did he say stuff like that a lot?”

Tommy shrugged, “Eh, not all the time, but quite a bit, yeah. You’re leading a war, you kinda have to give the big speeches about martyrdom ‘n all that.”

Part of Ranboo wanted to hop into Tommy’s boat and give him a hug, though he knew Tommy was still re-adjusting to touch and wouldn’t appreciate it. He and Tubbo must have been, what, sixteen? And they had one of the people they looked up to the most telling them their country’s independence was more important than their own lives. Whether he believed it or not, Wilbur must have been a pretty bad guy to even consider putting that thought in their heads.

Ranboo felt a bit ill just thinking about it. He was reminded of all the times he’d panicked at some stupid thought he’d had, and Tubbo had been forced to help him out of it, and felt a bit guilty. Tubbo must have gone through so much worse than anything Ranboo could ever imagine. He deserved to rest. So did Tommy. Everything about the situation was just so messed up.

He was glad they’d gotten out before something else went wrong and added onto the ever-growing list of reasons why Ranboo wanted to protect Tubbo and Tommy.

“Don’t look so upset, man. That’s just how war is.”

“You shouldn’t have been there. You don’t deserve to go through that.”

Tommy’s lips tightened into a line.

“Maybe not. But what’s done is done. Nothing we can do about it now.”

“You know that what he was saying isn’t true though, right? Nothing is more important than you being alive and safe.” Ranboo spoke in a soft tone, his voice quieting even more so than before.

Tommy stared at him.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” His voice went a bit high pitched, and he cleared his throat, “I, uh, yeah, no yeah, it was a bunch of bullshit.”

“M’kay, good,”

Tommy was eyeing him weirdly, he could feel it, even as he didn’t see it. He shifted in his seat, biting his lip. His hands began fidgeting with the hem of his jacket.

“I just, um, know what it’s like, a tiny bit, to have thoughts kinda like that in your head, and it’s not- it’s not fun, so. Just wanted to, uh, make sure you’re okay.” Ranboo smiled as best he could.

Tommy watched him curiously, but didn’t push.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He shrugged.

“Okay.” Ranboo sighed to himself, making sure Tommy wouldn’t hear.

Deep conversations were hard.

“Are you gonna at least get more comfortable? We’re probably gonna be here a while.” Tommy said as Ranboo shifted again.

“Probably a good idea.” Ranboo carefully sat on the floor of the boat, opposite Michael so he could sit comfortably with his knees to his chest.

As he readjusted, Tubbo groaned in his sleep. Ranboo moved carefully, grabbing Tubbo’s hand in his own and holding it. Tubbo squeezed back in his sleep, and Ranboo had to stop himself from audibly cooing.

“Ugh. How long do you think you two are gonna be all gross and husbandy?” Tommy asked with mock disgust.

Ranboo stifled a laugh.

“If all goes according to plan, forever.”

“Ew.”

Ranboo broke into a giggle as Tommy snickered from the other boat.

“Whatever. Just don’t be gross in front of me. Frankly, it’s weird.”

“I literally just held his hand.”

“Disgusting.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Alright Mr. I Built Myself A Girlfriend.”

“I’ll have you know she was wonderful and treated me right.”

“She was a log with a jack o'lantern on top.”

“Small details.” Tommy made a gesture of waving Ranboo off.

“Mhm, mhm.”

“If you were not allergic to water I would be splashing you with it right now.”

Ranboo snickered.

“Aw, you do care.”

“Alright fuck it.”

Tommy made a show of drowsily splashing water against the side of Ranboo’s boat, and Ranboo snorted in amusement. Tommy sighed like he was exasperated, then yawned.

“Try to get some sleep dude.” Ranboo’s tone softened.

“You shouldn’t have to be up all alone,” Tommy mumbled tiredly.

Ranboo made a mental note to himself to write down that tired Tommy was sweeter than awake Tommy.

“It’s alright, if I need anything I’ll wake you up, alright?”

“Wake me up, not Tubbo.”

“Okay, I will.”

Tommy eyed him suspiciously, accidentally making eye contact with Ranboo. Ranboo decided it was definitely worse than eye contact with Tubbo, but nowhere near as horrible as it used to be with Tommy. Slight discomfort, not panic-inducing.

Baby steps, he supposed.

Tommy glanced away quickly.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“I’m gonna sleep now.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night Ranboob.”

Ranboo sighed loudly and saw Tommy smirk as he closed his eyes.

And then there was one.

Ranboo took the opportunity to write in his memory book. With his luck, he’d wake up at some point in the next few days expecting to be back in the tundra, and he didn’t want Tubbo to have to pull him out of that panic.

He jotted down the events of the day, and some of the things he’d talked about with Tommy. He left himself a small reminder to keep a close eye on Tubbo, to make sure he was doing okay. And on Tommy, as well. And Michael.

He hoped they’d made the right decision by doing this. Maybe it was foolish to run off so quickly, without letting it sink in. It worried him to think that they might regret it later down the line. But right now, at this moment, Ranboo couldn’t find much in him to care. All he could focus on was the fact that now, his family would be safe. No more war bunkers, or TNT cannons (unless Tommy happened to be bored, he supposed). They could just grow up, and raise Michael, and live without the fear of death lurking around every corner.

Maybe they would regret it. One day. But today was not that day.

And so, Ranboo settled into the night, listening to the distant caws of seagulls and the occasional chirp from dolphins. He sat, and listened, and allowed himself to hope and daydream for a while, as the moon shifted in the sky. Eventually, the sky began to turn orange, the early rays of the sun peeking above the horizon.

He watched the sunrise, and for the first time in a while, he felt at peace. Not the faux-peace they had created back in the SMP lands, but really, truly peaceful. He felt as if he was finally coming home after a long day in the mines. Tired, but calm, and warm. And he could be with his family, and laugh, and feel safe.

Safe. What a precious, beautiful thing to feel.

A soft groaning arose from the other side of the boat. Ranboo turned, and saw a pink ear twitch. Soon, a tiny, hoof-like hand rose from the blanket and rubbed his son’s tired eye, who finally blinked his eye open and looked at Ranboo.

“Boo?”

“Hey, bud. Good morning.”

“Good mornin’.” Michael yawned, crawling out from under the blanket carefully, and flopping down beside Ranboo, leaning on his side.

Ranboo gently rubbed Michael’s arm, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you sleep well?”

Michael groaned in response, and Ranboo giggled. He really did take after his other father.

“Do you want some breakfast?”

Michael nodded, and Ranboo opened his inventory, grabbing some bread. He ripped a small piece off for Michael, who looked at it for a moment in contemplation, then promptly shoved it in his mouth. Ranboo sighed.

“You’ve spent too much time around Mimi.” He smiled, petting Michael’s mane.

Michael grinned up at him, taking another bite of bread. Tubbo began to stir across from them, his eyes blinking open slowly.

“Morning Bo.”

Ranboo was met with a groan. He giggled to himself quietly.

“Five more minutes.”

“You can have as many minutes as you need.”

“It’s too early for you being nice, ‘m gonna accidentally tell you to fuck off. Leave me alone for like- just one more minute.” Tubbo mumbled.

Ranboo laughed, and Michael giggled beside him, chewing on his bread. Tubbo stared up at the sky, then glanced around, getting his bearings. Eventually, he brought his gaze back to Ranboo, and Ranboo leaned forward a bit until Tubbo got the hint and moved to bonk their foreheads together.

“Ugh. It’s too early for your husband shit.”

Ranboo sighed good-naturedly.

“Good morning, Tommy.”

He looked over to Tommy’s boat, where Tommy was stretching. He seemed a bit tired, but not as grumpy about waking up as Michael or Tubbo were.

Tubbo stretched as well, then reached into his inventory, retrieving some baked potatoes and steak. He handed them to Ranboo and Tommy, then took some for himself.

The group ate in silence for a while, letting the morning set in. Ranboo finished, and returned to his seat as Tommy did in the boat next to him, grabbing the paddles.

“Ah, no, I’m rowing now. You did it last night.” Tubbo stood carefully, gently kicking Ranboo’s shin.

Ranboo bit his lip. Tubbo had been so tired, and had gotten so little sleep. Ranboo could survive a couple more hours of rowing if it meant Tubbo got a bit more rest.

“Oh, that’s alright. I’ll be fine, I’m not tired.” Ranboo offered him a smile, to which Tubbo raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t care. Sit your bony ass down on the other seat or I’ll skin you.”

“Why do you always jump to skinning me?”

“Ranboo.”

Ranboo sighed. He supposed Tubbo could row for a bit, and then they could trade again…

“Fine.” Ranboo carefully moved around Tubbo, sitting on the seat opposite him.

Michael jumped up, sitting beside Ranboo and leaning into his side again. Tommy reached across the boats and untied them from each other, tossing the rope down onto the floor of his boat. Tommy and Tubbo began rowing, heading North.

“Hey, Tommy, are you sure you don’t want me to row for you for a while? You didn’t get much sleep last night, so…”

“I got enough. Rest, dumbass.”

Ranboo sighed, resigning to spending the next couple of hours doing nothing. He released Enderchest from his duffel, to which Michael squealed with delight. Enderchest purred as the toddler pet her gently, eventually curling up beside him on the seat.

Ranboo retrieved one of Michael’s books from his bag, and read to him for a while as the toddler clutched his plushie with one hand and pet Enderchest with the other. Ranboo finished the book, and returned it to its place in Michael’s bag. He opened his inventory, grabbing a couple small fish, and turning back to Michael.

“Here, can you feed Enderchest for me?”

Michael nodded excitedly. Ranboo smiled warmly.

“Alright. Hold your hand flat, like this.” Ranboo demonstrated with his own hand, holding it flat with his palm facing the sky.

Michael copied his movement, holding his hand out flat towards Ranboo. Ranboo carefully placed the fish on Michael’s hand, and the toddler wrinkled his nose. Ranboo laughed gently.

“Okay, now you can just move your hand in front of her, and she’ll eat them up!” He carefully guided his son’s hand in front of Enderchest, whose ears perked up at the scent of fish.

Her eyes opened, and she gingerly took one of the fish from Michael’s hand. Michael giggled, leaning backwards. Ranboo steadied him from behind, a grin on his face. Tubbo watched across from them, his eyes and smile soft. Ranboo’s tail wagged happily, gently slapping the inside of the boat.

Enderchest plucked the last fish from Michael’s hand, and Michael pulled his hand back, flapping it happily.

“Can I hug you, Mikey?” Ranboo asked.

Michael nodded, and Ranboo scooped him up, enveloping him in a hug. Michael hugged back as tight as he could, then pulled away, bumping his forehead against his dad’s. A soft purr rumbled from Ranboo’s chest, and Michael flopped down beside him again.

Ranboo yawned, and Tubbo lifted an eyebrow.

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

Ranboo paused. The tendrils of anxiety started gently tugging at his stomach and lungs. He could tell Tubbo he hadn’t slept, but then he would ask why, and Ranboo didn’t want him to think they were bothering him in any way…

“Oh, no, I did, I’m all good, just still a bit tired from travelling all night.” Ranboo smiled what he hoped was a convincing smile.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Tommy’s brow furrowed, “You stayed up to keep an eye on the boats.”

“I, um, fell asleep after you did?”

Tubbo frowned.

“That shouldn’t be a question, Boo.”

“Right, um, sorry, but, I really am okay! You know Endermen need less sleep than humans?”

“That’s a lie.”

“…Yeah.”

Ranboo wrung his hands nervously. Shoot, he’d probably just worried Tubbo more, and it wasn’t like there was anything either of them could do about the issue anyways. He didn’t really feel all that tired either, so it wasn’t really a problem. It’s not like he’d continued to travel all night, he had rested, he just hadn’t, y’know, slept.

“Did you not sleep at all? We could have taken turns, if you were worried. You don’t get to sacrifice your sleep just ‘cause you want us to sleep.” Tubbo watched him carefully, as if watching for any tells he might show.

“It’s, it’s not that, well, maybe it is, a bit? But, um not- not totally, at least, um…” Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck as his friends looked at him quizzically.

He really didn’t want to worry them. Or make them feel guilty. But he was probably just worrying them more by lying. Right? Or maybe not, maybe they were just upset that he’d lied, not worried. But Tubbo looked worried. Ugh, this sucked.

“So, you know how we’re, like, surrounded by, by water?” Ranboo began nervously.

Tubbo and Tommy nodded cautiously. Ranboo bit his lip, and saw something click in Tubbo brain.

“Is the water stressing you out?” He asked, slowly coming to a stop.

Ranboo gulped.

“Well, no, not- not really, it’s not like, stressing me out consciously, but, I think it might be an Enderman thing? Like, instinctual, or something. I, uh, I can’t fall asleep in boats, though. There’s just- too much water, like everywhere, and, uh… yeah,”

Tubbo looked at him sadly, and Ranboo felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. Great, now he’s made Tubbo feel bad, and Tommy probably did too, and Michael was probably confused why everyone was upset, and he was just stressing them all out, and they should have just left him behind-

“Woah, Boo, it’s alright, we’re okay, breathe.” Tubbo placed down his paddles, grabbing Ranboo’s hands as Tommy’s boat drifted up beside them.

“I’m sorry.” Ranboo said quietly.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. Breathe. In for four, hold for six, out for seven, remember? Just like you do with me.” Tubbo exaggerated his breathing, and Ranboo copied him as best he could.

Guilt continued to tug at his stomach for making Tubbo deal with him.

“There we go. Alright. We’re not upset, or angry, or anything. I just wish you’d told us sooner so we could’ve figured out a better travel plan.” Tubbo explained, rubbing Ranboo’s hands.

Tommy hummed.

“We should be near land soon enough, so we can take horseback from there. We can probably rest for a while once we get to land too. Tubs and I will be tired from rowing anyways.” Tommy said lightly, gesturing behind him as he spoke.

“Yeah, I- yeah, don’t, don’t worry, I’m all good. I’ve stayed up much longer than this, I’m fine.” Ranboo said nervously.

Tubbo stared at him for a moment.

“You gotta understand why that’s not reassuring.”

Tommy stifled a laugh beside them, and Ranboo huffed.

“It’s true, though. I can, I can handle it, y’know? I’m not gonna, like, break just ‘cause I’m awake for longer than usual.”

“You should still get some sleep.” Tubbo argued.

Ranboo’s ears flattened against his head against his will, and Tubbo noticed, his expression softening. He glanced away for a minute, as if thinking, then snapped his fingers.

“What if we covered your eyes?”

Ranboo frowned.

“That sounds horrible.”

“You mean like with a blindfold?” Tommy asked.

“No, of course not a blindfold. What would he do if we got attacked or something?” Tubbo leaned down grabbing the blanket he and Michael had used to sleep.

“I mean, like, what if you slept with a blanket over your head? That way you wouldn’t be able to see the water, and maybe your Enderman instincts would chill out a bit.”

“Like a parrot.” Ranboo grimaced.

“Uhhh… Sort of, yeah.” Tubbo said, grinning.

“Alright, well, you heard the man, down on the floor with you.” Tommy said, pulling a theatrical groan from Ranboo.

“Seriously, Tubbo, I’m fine, I’d much rather just like, nap, once we find land.”

“Nope,” Tubbo said, popping the ‘p,’ “Sit on the floor.”

Ranboo obeyed hesitantly, and Tubbo tossed the blanket over his head. Ranboo’s tail whipped back and forth across the boat in annoyance, and he could feel himself blushing profusely.

“Is this revenge for something?” Ranboo asked lightheartedly.

Tubbo giggled, and Ranboo smiled, though the other two couldn’t see it. He heard something plop down beside him, and was then greeted by Michael shuffling under the blanket, curling up beside him. Tubbo cooed quietly, and Ranboo heard Tommy scoff. He wrapped an arm around Michael, who gently headbutted his shoulder.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Tommy asked.

Ranboo paused for a moment, biting his lip. As much as he hated to admit it, he could feel the tightness in his stomach alleviating as more time went on under the blanket. His foot was pushed out far enough that it was touching Tubbo’s, and with Michael beside him, the instinctual nervousness he got when he didn’t know where his… his “haunting” was, lessened. Enough that he could actually feel the effects of exhaustion in his muscles.

“It probably will and I hate that.” Ranboo finally said.

Tommy and Tubbo cackled, and Ranboo huffed. They delighted in his suffering, and it was horrible. He could feel the sticky tendrils of anxiety loosening from his throat, though, and he could feel his eyes becoming heavier. Another yawn escaped him, and his tail slowly came to a stop, curling around him and Michael. Tubbo sighed happily.

“Get some sleep, Boo. We’ll keep rowing for a while, and we’ll wake you once we find land, alright?”

Ranboo hummed affirmation, his eyes already sliding closed. He felt something placed behind his head, and leaned against it like he would against a pillow. It was soft, probably one of Tubbo’s hoodies. Distantly, he hoped Tubbo wouldn’t be upset at him for using it as a pillow.

He heard Tommy and Tubbo start bickering about something or other, accompanied only by the waves and, occasionally, the distant squawks of seabirds. His eyes slid shut as his heartbeat slowed, and his brain drifted to thoughts of flower fields and apiaries.

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alovesongshewrote · 4 years

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Almost A Thousand Years - Killahead, Part 2 | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years. You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years. And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain. But somewhere in that time, things changed. [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 5,258

Warnings: B A T T L E

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS KIDS!!!!! also, i swear to god this was written a month ago, before aaron confirmed the skulls and wizards thing

Taglist: @furblrwurblr @rainningdoom @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458 @sitherin-mxschief @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip @dolphincommander @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05 @justarandomhoman @tales-of-hisirdoux @blixeon @yagirlcheesely

It was about as surreal as you thought it would be.

As a child you were trained to fight; to stab, to slice, to claw, and to bleed. You were taught that humans were the root of all evil and that the Gumm-Gumms would one day take what was theirs. Now you were fighting with the humans, the evil, the oppressors, against what had been your home, your people.

And it was going surprisingly well. It turns out having insider knowledge is very helpful on the battlefield. You were able to block everything they threw at you, to dodge and weave through their attacks and land some pretty good hits of your own. Douxie had your back, of course, blue light striking down as many opponents as it could take. In return, you took out anything that even threatened to get too close.

It was going well. But it didn’t last.

“WHERE IS THE WITCH SPY?”

“Oh no.”

“(Y/N), stay behind me,” Douxie’s voice was a dull hum against the roar around you, and of course, the screaming troll in front of you.

“JOIN YOUR BROTHERS AGAINST THIS PATHETIC ARMY!!”

“Oh god.”

Douxie noticed the fact that you weren’t even close to listening to him and took action, moving in front of you, striking any Gumm-Gumm soldier who even looked your way.

“RETURN HOME (Y/N) (L/N)!”

So, that was it. That was what had kept you in the dark as a traitor for at least a hundred years. The very sentence that made you avoid Britain with all your strength. The thing that drove a wedge between you and the man you now loved.

Four words were all it took.

“(Y/N)?? (Y/N), love, please, answer me!”

You jerked your head, snapping back to reality. No matter what events were relevant to your personal history, there was still a battle going on. You had to keep fighting. You struck down another few Gumm-Gumms just as Douxie used some of Archie’s fire to dispose of another, another few.

“Ha, I've always hated those twits!”

“Valid!” you cried as you ducked under an opponent’s strike. You took out their knees, rising again, just in time to see Morgana descend from a sky wormhole. Just what you needed.

“Night has already fallen.”

“Oh, really? Couldn’t tell.”

Douxie rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, but you could see the grin on his face. That boy loved you and all of your shenanigans. You were shaken from your thoughts, however, when Morgana started firing spells into the crowd, yeeting her magic around with reckless abandon.

“Morgana’s returned! She’s enemy number one!”

“Go!” Jim yelled, “We’ll hold the bridge!”

“Hisirdoux, with me! I-You!” oh no, he was talking to you, “I take you in as my apprentice, spare your life from the sword, and this is how you-”

“Master, they didn’t have a choice!” Douxie grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him as if to shield you from Merlin’s wrath, “It was a matter of survival!”

“Survival! What-”

“Please, Master, let them help. If we leave them here, any of the nights might try to attack them!”

“And why should that matter! They are a traitor, are they not? Death on the battlefield is more merciful than anything they might receive after the battle is won.”

“I won’t let anything happen to them,” Douxie’s voice was calm, but you could hear the anger behind it, “(Y/N) has proved their loyalty to me hundreds of times. They’re more than capable and I trust them with my life.”

You broke from your reverie, eyes painted with concern. How could he trust you so easily? Why did he, even after everything that had happened? This shouldn’t have come as such a shock to you. He did love you, after all, and yet, you still found yourself surprised by this revelation. You couldn’t help the hesitant smile that crept onto your face as you squeezed his hand slightly. He really did love you, didn’t he?

Merlin grumbled something, probably regretting that binding spell right about now, before motioning for you to follow him.

You cast a wave back to the kids, a silent wish for their luck, before you ran after Merlin, your hand still entwined with Douxie’s. He didn’t let go until you reached a small group of ruins, at which point you, your wizard and the old man stood, backs facing each other, all of you peered out into the darkness. Archie flew above you, dragon eyes finding nothing out of the ordinary. Not yet, anyway. You kept your sword out in front of you, and you could tell that Douxie was doing the same with his brace. You had no idea what Merlin was doing, but you never did, so that wasn’t a big deal.

“I feel dark magic.”

“It means she’s close.”

You and the familiar both gasped as something ran through the trees. A chill made its way into the woods, surrounding you and raising goosebumps on your skin. You felt your heart begin to race as strange echoes continued to ring out through the air. They soon morphed from a collection of noises into a laugh- Morgana’s.

“An old man, a foolish boy, and a traitor; lost as always.”

Your small group moved slightly, scanning the forest for any sign of the sorceress. You could feel her presence, but there was nothing there.

“Do you dare run… or face my vengeance?”

Oh. There she was.

“Um, is there a third option?” Archie asked, sounding much too calm for the situation at hand. You couldn’t blame him though, you would have done the same. But you weren’t doing the same. You were looking over your shoulder just as a collection of roots shot out at you. Thanks to your little turn, you had an advantage, cutting the offending plant parts before they could get to you. Douxie and Merlin, however, were not so lucky. The latter was pulled to the ground and stabbed through the shoulder with a particularly sharp root. He barked out an order for Hisirdoux to run, which he could not do because of the roots clinging to his shoulders. You used your sword on what you could, and a blast of green energy from Merlin took out the rest. A little anticlimactic if you ask me.

Despite your escape, Morgana cackled, even as Douxie fired spell after spell at her with little success. While he made his attempt, you helped Merlin to a standing position, a task that became easier when Douxie rejoined you at the old wizard’s other side.

“Merlin, you’re injured! Badly… (Y/N), is there anything-”

“Hisirdoux, if I should fall this day…”

Merlin handed his former apprentice a scroll, one which was covered with notes and instructions about building a tomb, and the heart of Avalon. Your brows furrowed as you read over Douxie’s shoulder. That wasn’t ominous at all.

“Why are you giving us this?”

“Foreseeing the future means preparing for the worst of it,” he glared at you for a moment, and you wondered what exactly he could see. He clearly hadn’t seen your act of treason coming, but there were other things that made you wonder. Your thoughts were interrupted by more ominous Merlin content, “That includes your wounded friend.”

“Jim? What about him?”

“The corruption in his heart has no cure. When he returns to the future, it will overtake him.”

Oh. Oh.

Oh no.

You’d had your suspicions, but hearing it from the master wizard himself brought it to another level of reality. There was no cure. There was no solution. You were going to go home, and you were going to kill Douxie. Or you’d try to, at the very least. Maybe, now that Douxie was a master wizard himself, he could do you both a kindness and kill you where you stood.

…

Yeah, no. He wouldn’t be doing that anytime soon, but a witch could dream! You feel his hand on your back, a gesture meant to comfort you that only made you sick. How he still cared about you, even after all of this would confuse you for years to come. For now, though, you just accepted it. There wasn’t time for much else with an evil sorceress on the prowl.

“No, no there must be some other way! I made a promise to them, to Claire, to get them home alive, all of them!”

“Yet, to save time itself, you all must return home, even if it means James Lake will be no more.”

That wasn’t exactly a pleasant thought. While a distance stemming from your past had momentarily sprung up between you and the kids, the gap between you had since closed. You loved those little monsters like they were your siblings, and you’d do anything for them. The thought that Jim would have to die, to make another sacrifice when he’d already given up so much, was just another thing that killed you inside.

“And there’s no other solution?” you tried to keep quiet despite the rage that boiled inside you, not at anyone in particular, but at the situation as a whole, “There’s no way to fix this that doesn’t get Jim killed?”

Merlin shook his head, but you didn’t need that confirmation. You already knew the answer.

“Such is the burden of a wizard,” the old one spoke as your small group made its way deeper into the night, “To make the hard choices mortals cannot,” he grunted, slouching forward slightly, reminding you that you should really take a look at that stab wound at some point. Merlin, however, paid no real mind to this, instead, continuing his little monologue, “Now it is yours to bear.”

You looked away from your wizard companions to see a giant skull, lodged between a rock and… well, another rock. Some may call it a canyon, you called it fucking ominous and terrifying. The skull was lit from within, orange light seeping through the space where eyes had once stared out into the world. You wondered, for a moment, how these old bones had ended up here, and how they had stayed. What was the last thing this being saw? Was it the sky above, or the ground below? What could kill something as large as this? You didn’t ask your questions. It didn’t seem like the right time.

And really, it wasn’t time for anything other than nerves and anxiety. Without a word, you followed Merlin across the rocks until he stood in front of the skull, on top of an odd sort of contraption. You stood a few steps behind, safely off the weird cage thing.

“Morgana, reveal thyself!”

Before you could question the logistics of giving yourselves away, a portal, ringed with gold and made of shadows appeared, releasing the queen of the apocalypse onto another rock. Yep, that sure was an evil sorceress. Just what you needed at this time of night.

“Look what has wandered into my web,” nice starting point. Threatening, but not over the top. You cast your sarcastic thoughts aside for the moment, as valid as they were, preparing yourself instead, for a fight.

“These are dark powers you medal with, Morgana. Who granted them? Who resurrected you from death?”

“Wizards beyond your ken,” ah shit. Just as you suspected. ‘Wizards beyond your ken,’ was mysterious witch for ‘The Arcane Order.’

And then she was gone again. Dope.

“So, uh… we should head into the big skull of doom?” you asked, eyebrows knit together in a mix of concern and confusion.

“Yep, let’s go.” You and Douxie nodded at each other before helping Merlin scale the rocks and get into the skull, asking Archie to stand watch for a moment, just to secure his safety. He agreed only once you’d promised to call him if things got rough.

Inside of the first skull, you found a second, slightly smaller skull. What the hell was it with magic dudes and skulls, huh? Morgana had this as her lair, the Arcane Order’s ship was a skull, Douxie had his whole vibe and Merlin kept skulls in his office. Shit, even you kept bones around, though you were a doctor and arguably had the best excuse. Your thoughts ran wild as you examined the space around you, but they were interrupted by the reappearance of your least favourite murder-witch.

“Morgana!”

The two wizards prepared for battle, but you hesitated. Something was wrong here. Morgana was crying, no-sobbing. You recognized this, whatever this was. You’d seen it in yourself back in the 1300s. Yep, something was wrong alright, and judging by this, someone was probably dead.

“It’s your fault!” She cried, “You’re the reason Arthur is gone!”

Oh, so you were right. That didn’t really explain how Arthur’s blood was on your hands though.

“What?”

“Gone?”

“Uh, guys? It kinda sounds like the King is dead.”

Your companions had no time to respond as Morgana rose through the air, seeking misplaced revenge instead of proper justice. She fired a spell at the three of you, which Douxie ran to shield you from. Merlin joined him a second later, limping towards the younger wizard with your help. The second he stood on his own, your magic joined theirs.

“She’s too powerful! We have no choice but to seal her away!”

“I know. I’ll try to buy some ti-”

Douxie was cut off when Merlin knocked you both clear across the room and out of the way of another spell, one which left the old wizard in chains.

You felt the impact that Douxie suffered and you were sure he felt yours. Nevertheless, the two of you pulled yourselves up just as Morgana started on another speech.

“Oh, shame! Little Douxie finally gets his staff, just in time to die with it!”

She aimed her next attack at him, but you interfered, knocking her away with a shield made of your magic.

“And you! Traitorous little wretch!” you weren’t exactly sure which treason she was talking about or who she learned it from. You’d betrayed a lot of people over the years, she’d have to be more specific, “Why do you still fight alongside them?!”

You knocked away another attack before answering, “The shorter one is cute!” With that, you went on the offensive, landing a kick to Morgana’s stomach and striking her again with the butt of your sword. Your small victory didn’t last long though, as she struck back, the impact slamming you into the opposite wall and probably cracking a few of your ribs. You’d have to apologize to Douxie for that one.

Morgana scoffed at you, looking down at your crumpled figure as you struggled to stand, “Only a fool would fight for love!”

Her voice may have contained a little more rage than was necessary, and she may have been projecting a little bit, but she didn’t have time to say anything else. Douxie handed a few hits with his staff, using surprise to his advantage, and holding up surprisingly well despite the pain you both were in. Morgana turned her taunting onto Douxie, mocking him as they fought.

“You can’t even wield it!” you winced as she landed a hit, “You should stick to your usual tricks.”

You bit your lip as she struck him in the face- twice. This really wasn’t a great day for either of you, was it?

“Use the power of your staff! Make it your own!”

“Please, Douxie.” Your voice was quiet, and there was almost no way he heard it. Hell, you weren’t even sure what you were asking for, but in the next second, his staff turned into a fucking guitar so that was probably it if you had to guess. Or maybe it was the next second when he avenged you by smacking Morgana in the face with said guitar, sending her flying across the room. You knew that as a doctor you shouldn’t hope for someone to crack a rib, but this was an exception you were willing to make.

“What?!”

“BABE! THAT WAS HOT!!” you yelled, too shocked to say much else.

“Bleeding balroths! This is nuclear!” your wizard said, spinning the staff around.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that as you pulled yourself up from the ground. Of all the things Douxie had ever said and done in his life, that had to be the Douxie-est.

“Did you just strike me with a-a lute?!”

“Uh-uh-uh-uh. No, uh-uh. Spellcaster guitar, darling.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the fuck he just said, but you were 110% there for it. He played a lil’ riff on his staff, and you had a very brief mental debate on whether or not that took the throne for the Douxie-est thing he’d ever done.

“Needs tuning though.” He continued to play the riff for a solid minute, and you weren’t sure what was funnier. The fact that this was, in fact, something that was happening, or how Done Merlin looked with literally everything at that moment. It was both. Both was good.

“I meant make it your own weapon!”

Douxie finished playing just in time to shield himself from another of Morgana’s attacks, “Well, this is technically an “axe!”

“You are a huge geek!”

“And you love it!” your wizard yelled, playing again while running from Morgana, looking for an opening while avoiding a volley of spells. He was right. You did love it. That’s why you were going to help at the next opportunity, your (and technically his) poor ribs be damned.

“Hisirdoux! This is no time for dreadful music!”

“Dreadful?”

“Absolutely infernal.”

“I mean, I thought it was good!” you yelled, launching your own round of spells at Morgana, making it harder for her to land a hit on Douxie.

“No worries, this is just the opening track!”

“What do you hope to do? Blow out our eardrums?”

“Well, pardon me if this rock is too freakin’ awesome for your medieval sensibilities!” You had no idea how he did it, but he managed to land on one of the light fixtures (of all things) while you weren’t looking. You couldn’t really see him from where you were, but you were almost certain that he was doing the sign of horns and sticking out his tongue.

“Enough of your noise!” Morgana cried, blasting you to the side quickly before returning to her real fight. You were lucky that this blast was not as strong as her first. You were able to roll out of it without causing any real damage, a benefit to both you and Douxie. Speaking of, your wizard found himself locked in a Harry Potter-style duel, two magics facing off against one another in a single stream. It was not looking too good for your boi though. He seemed to notice this, and jumped from the light and returned to physical combat on the ground. Unfortunately, that did not end well either, and you bit back a cry as Douxie was thrown through the room. Yeah, things were looking rough. Time to call in the cat calvary.

You swore you were only gone for a moment, but in that time, Douxie managed to get himself pinned against a wall.

“Do not fret, Merlin. You’ll find a new apprentice to replace him. Are people not dispensable, after all?”

“Ok, go, go now!” you whispered to Archie, your tone intense, which was fair considering the situation. The familiar did as told and flew at the witch, sending her fling off balance and keeping her away from Douxie. Arch did a quick loop near Merlin, tossing the wizard his staff before circling around to land on Douxie’s shoulder. Merlin and Morgana began their fight as you ran to your wizard and his familiar.

“Nice work my dudes, you think you can keep it up?”

“Probably! Arch, light me!” you liked the sound of that. You liked the sight of it even more as blue flames encircled Morgana, trapping her, and allowing Douxie and Archie to make their final attack, keeping the sorceress in place.

“Hurry, I can’t hold her that long!”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” you said, voice quiet as you threw your own spell at the witch from below. Hopefully, that would make things a little easier. It did. Douxie was grateful.

“You have lost yourself, Morgana! Bound to dark magic. I have no choice but to seal you away! Sigilia infractum!”

It seemed to work for a second, but then, for like, the third (?) time in that battle you were blasted back, Douxie fell with you and hit the ground harder.

“Man, this sucks,” you whispered as you pulled yourselves up, going to Merlin’s aid.

“Master!”

“She’s too powerful,” he groaned, “You have to finish this, together.”

“We can do that… we can do that! Let’s go!”

You and Douxie moved in sync, matching each other’s movements exactly. Using his staff, Douxie’s blue magic replaced Merlin’s green while yours froze the witch again, keeping her from attacking you.

“Sigilia infractum causera!”

Finally, the blast from the spell did not hurt you, instead, it did as it was supposed to, trapping Morgana. You let your own spell ease up, instead, lending whatever strength you could to Douxie, God knows he would need it.

“I will destroy you all! No matter what it takes, no matter where you go, I will end all that you love until you feel my agony!”

“Yeah, you aren’t the first person to threaten that! Come up with something original, then we’ll talk.”

The witch roared and threw a spell in your direction, but it disappeared into a shadow edged with purple.

“Hey! Hands off my teachers!”

Oh, Claire! Claire had found you somehow, that was good.

“I swear on all your lives, I shall rise again!”

“Already seen it,” the girl cried, throwing some much-deserved sass Morgana's way, “You don’t win. See you in 900 years!”

And with that, the spell was complete. Claire opened another portal, dragging Morgana into it. With that big historical event over, your adrenaline failed you and you staggered forward. That was pretty convenient considering it let you catch Douxie, who was doing much worse than you were. You noticed his eyes rolling back slightly, which was a cause for some alarm.

“Hey, heyheyheyheyhey, stay with us, you nerd, don’t pass out on me,” you weren’t sure you could handle the stress if he did.

“Douxie! Are you okay?!” Archie and Claire moved in, the former knocking Douxie back and licking his face relentlessly.

“Ugh! That’s-that’s disgusting!”

You and Claire both laughed at this, glad that at least this part of the fight was finally over. Douxie stole a glance at you and wondered if he had somehow died during the battle. How else could there be an angel before him?

“Well,” he turned his gaze from your smile to Claire with only minor difficulties, “I think we just saved history.”

You sat back, all fears forgotten for now in a moment of relief and elation as you watched your boyfriend give the girl a high-five.

“And you took down a ninth-level sorceress.”

“Damn right,” you giggled, which was new, but not unwelcome. You turned to Douxie, “Sharp work, samurai.” Your friends rolled their eyes at your antics, though they did it out of love.

The excitement calmed for a moment, allowing Archie to speak, “Merlin would be proud.”

“Yeah, if he wasn’t out cold.”

“I mean, it’s not a great look for him, but full transparency? I could probably take a three-hundred-year nap right now.”

Douxie laughed, but he wrapped a hand around yours and whispered, “Please don’t.”

You squeezed his hand, a silent promise that you would not answer your problems with sleep. Not today, anyway. To be completely honest, the problem immediately at hand could be solved rather quickly, by you, at least.

“Anyway, Merlin’s still been stabbed, so I’ll just-”

Fortunately, this was just a stab wound. No magic, no tricks, no possession, just medicine. That was what you knew, it was what you could deal with. It was over too quickly. Was that a thing you could say? Could you wish for medical treatment to last longer? Was that something you could do? Not to mention that he was your boyfriend’s surrogate dad, which just made things complicated. Either way, it was over too fast. You returned to Camelot, mourned the dead, said your goodbyes, and that was it. Time was up. You had to go home.

Home. What even was home now? You knew the answer. Home was Douxie. Wherever he was, you wanted to be. He made you feel safe, feel loved, feel every good thing that humans are supposed to feel, but- To save the world, to save his life, you would have to leave him. There was no other choice, either you stayed in the past and everyone died, or you went back to the future and risked his life by staying with him. You had to go. As soon as you got back, you’d have to run. You didn’t know where, to-to Spain, or Japan, or Cuba, Vietnam, Egypt, France, somewhere, anywhere, just to keep him safe. You didn’t want to do it. You just wanted to stay by his side, forever, if possible. But that was the thing. It wasn’t possible. And that broke your heart.

And if possible, these gosh darn kids were going to break you even more.

“Everybody, ready yourselves. We don’t have much time. I’ll dial us in for when we left.”

“But what’s gonna happen when we get there? The danger we escaped, it’ll be waiting for us. And Jim’s still hurt.”

You bit your lip as you and Douxie approached Jim and Claire. You really didn’t want to be the one who had to say this. You didn’t want to be around when she heard the news. Shit, you didn’t even want it to be news. You just wanted your kids to be happy, and to not kill your boyfriend, and to live for once. Maybe fate just didn’t like you.

“Claire, about that… Jim is-”

“Ready to face the inevitable,” Jim held out a hand to stop you.

“Jim, are you sure?” Douxie asked while you maintained your silence. You were pretty sure if you said anything you’d lose your composure.

“Jim?” Oh God, and now Claire was going to find out how screwed you still were. This was gonna suck.

“Claire, the shard in- There is no cure. That’s what Merlin told me earlier.”

You winced at the horror on the young girl’s face. She didn’t deserve this. Neither of them did.

“That’s crazy! We can find something! I’ll learn a spell, we can stay here!”

“If we don’t all go back right now, the future won’t exist. What kind of hero would I be if I sacrificed everyone else? Not to be ironic, but we’re out of time.”

“No! Douxie, (Y/N), tell him! We can fix this! You can fix this!”

You brought your hand up to hide your eyes from the sorceress. She was right, you should have been able to fix this, and tears wouldn’t solve anything. Your only solution was running away, and Jim- oh God, Jim. See, it was things like this that made you start drinking in the twenties.

“I’m sorry, Claire. He’s right. We must go back now, but when we do, we’ll find a way to reverse this,” he stole a glance back at you, and your distraught state only drove him further. He had to do this, to fix things when you got home. He owed all of you that much, “I promised I would return you home, and I am, but the portal can only stay open for a few moments. This is our one shot. Trust me.”

A moment later, he joined you at the base of the ship before taking your hand and leading you onto it.

“We’ll fix this,” he promised, his voice low so only you could hear, “Together. We’ll go home to the future, and we’ll fix this, and then-” your eyes met his as he paused, “And then, maybe, we could start our future.”

Despite the tears that threatened to fall, you smiled ever so slightly, “We’ll build a new one if we have to.”

It wasn’t until his lips met yours that you started crying. It wasn’t his fault it was just- fuck you would miss this. You smiled again as you pulled apart, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was for his sake, really. Under normal circumstances, you might pretend that everything was fine, but for just one second, you wanted to believe it.

“I love you,” your voice shook, and you hated it.

“I love you, too,” his voice was strong, yet tired. And you loved it.

You pushed a small smile onto your face, trying to cast the illusion that you were okay, and that everything was okay, and that no one would die when you returned. Your attempts were quickly halted by a sting on your cheek. That came from him, you realized, as you noticed a thin cut that ran across his cheekbone. You ran your thumb over it, his skin patching together and healing under your hand. At least you could still do that one thing. Sure, you were a traitorous assassin, but by god could you heal a small cut.

Douxie smiled, his grin seeming more natural than yours. He kissed you one last time before letting you go and taking the time map. You watched him, not saying a word as he said something under his breath and activated the map and the heart. A beam of light lit the night sky green, going on for a moment until it formed a portal. You could almost see your time on the other side. That was it. That was how you would get back to the future. Yay.

It was weird. You’d known Douxie for so long, and hated him for most of that time, but now? Now you were dreading going back to your time, going back to general safety because it meant that he would die. It was just odd to think that there was a time where you would have wished for this, for a chance to kill him and avoid the blame. If you wished for anything now, it would be another way out.

You followed Douxie onto Merlin’s airship and walked past him, standing as far away as you could. You didn’t know what would happen when you crossed that barrier. You might try to murder him instantly, you might be able to control yourself, you might be able to fight off your curse entirely. The point is, you didn’t know, and distance was the best solution. So, you stood alone and stared off into the night as the ship moved off towards the portal until Steve’s ramblings returned your attention to your friends.

“Man, Camelot was crazy! Why don’t they ever talk about that in the history books?”

Douxie gave the blond kid a pat on the shoulder, and you watched as Steve headed towards the front of the ship where Jim and Claire stood. The girl was looking back towards you, but you couldn’t meet her eyes. Her boyfriend was doomed, and there was nothing you could do about it. And you would have done anything. For those kids, you’d give your own life in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t an option. Not now, not yet. Douxie, however, met her eyes, though only for a moment. You didn’t have to hear him to know what he was thinking.

“My burden to bear.”

And with those final words, the world turned green, and you were gone.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #almost a thousand years #aaty #angst #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux

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leejungchans · 4 years

Text

— made with love...i mean telepathy.

word count: 1.4k words

content warnings: mentions of food

notes: words in [ ] represent the editors’ comments added in post-production; words in bold represent those spoken in english!! i added an additional ingredient because there’s an extra member!!

summary: ateez plays the telepathy relay cooking challenge on ateez treasure film.

a/n: my semester just ended and it feels really nice to finally be able to relax a bit and watch some going seventeen (ahhsjajs i just started stanning them and i love them so much😭🥺)!! i still have some assignments due later this month, but it’ll still be a lot nicer than the last two weeks bc they were hectic💀 i hope you’ve been well, the fourth wave of the pandemic is hitting where i live, so please stay safe!! happy reading and let me know what you think!!

you can watch the episode here!

Juliet paces around her single bedroom, waiting for her cue. She has no clue what the group challenge involves, nor why each member has to take turns playing.

She flops onto the bed, looking every bit like a starfish, and turns her head to look at the camera situated in the top corner of her room. “I’m so sleepy,” she whines, simply lying there for a few moments. [Are you going to fall asleep~]

As Juliet stares up the ceiling, eyes unfocused and lazy, the surreality of being back in Sydney sinks into her slowly. It felt like forever ago when she left home, not being able to see her family in person for years because of her trainee years and their conflicting schedules after her debut. It feels like a dream to finally not be in separate hemispheres with her home. Even better, she came back with her second family, eight boys who looked after her better than she did with herself.

Her vision blurs from a combination of tears and drowsiness, and she could feel her eyelids start to droop. She sits up with a jolt. “Wah, I almost fell asleep!” she says to the camera. “I can’t keep lying down here or I’ll really fall asleep, seriously!”

To keep herself awake, she gets up and plays “Wave” on her phone, occasionally singing along or dancing to the music while listening for her cue. [Let’s enjoy Juliet’s mini performance~]

Moments later, she hears Jongho yell from the base of the stairs, “If you’re the prettiest member in ATEEZ, come on out!”

“Oh! That must be me!” Juliet turns to the camera and cups her face with her hands to resemble a flower. [Blooming flower Juliet shows off her shining visuals~] “Wish me luck!” she says excitedly before leaving her room and skipping down the stairs.

Upon walking into the kitchen, her attention is immediately drawn by the lack of people in the adjoining living room. [Juliet enters prettily~]

“Hm? There’s no one here...” She pads over to the kitchen island and silently reads the instruction card. “Is that supposed to be Hongjoongie-oppa?” she giggles, asking no one in particular as she points at the cartoon version of their leader on the card.

She turns her attention to the ingredients, consisting of rice cakes, fish cakes, water, gochujang, chilli powder, soy sauce, sugar, diced green onions and peeled hard-boiled eggs.

“Oh my God, wah...I’m really stupid,” she admits after a while of pondering, turning to the camera in the living room behind her briefly. [So suddenly?] “I thought you weren’t going to refill the cups, but then if you didn’t, there wouldn’t be a point in this game because then we’d know which ones the others already added...” [A delayed realisation for Juliet ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]

“Okay, okay, okay, let’s think about this...” Juliet sighs and closes her eyes. [*programming noises* She is deep in thought...] “Hongjoongie-oppa, Seonghwa-oppa, Wooyoungie-oppa and Jongho-oppa already went, so one of them definitely added the water already, and I think the gochujang and rice cakes are in there too...”

Another sigh leaves her lips. “But if they all had this thought process also, would that mean they added in the more unexpected ingredients? Or should I just keep it simple and trust my gut?” [Lol, she’s so serious about this] Juliet playfully wriggles around like a petulant child. “Ah, I just want this tteokbokki to taste good! I’m getting kind of hungry...”

After a few more seconds, she picks up the cup with the eggs. [Juliet picks the hard-boiled eggs] “I like eggs,” she muses to herself as she moves towards the pot, and starts laughing when a hilarious thought crosses her mind. “Imagine if I lifted the lid and it was all just eggs in the pot. That’d be really funny.” [Luckily, ATEEZ will not be eating just eggs ♡]

To Juliet’s pleasant surprise, she lifts the lid to discover rice cakes cooking in a boiling red sauce, topped with the diced onions. “Oh, someone already added in the rice cakes! Good job!” Humming happily, she drops two eggs into the pot and puts the lid back on. [She made a good choice~ the tteokbokki is cooking well so far~] Off-camera, staff members guide her to a room just a few paces away from the kitchen where the four members are waiting. But before she enters, she shouts for the next person.

“Come on down if you’re the tall member who resembles a puppy!”

“Yah, great job!” Wooyoung says when she enters the room, and he high-fives the youngest member. Juliet beams from the praise.

“I did well, didn’t I?” she asks teasingly, high-fiving Jongho as well, obviously fishing for more compliments.

“You did, it’s going well so far,” Seonghwa replies, excitement clear in his tone. Next to him, Hongjoong nods in agreement as he readjusts his cap over his muted pink hair, faded from the bright red it was dyed months ago for their comeback. Juliet sits on one of the sofa’s armrests next to the oldest, as the other was occupied by Jongho.

The five of them watch the rest of game on the TV, squealing in happiness when Yunho and Mingi added the sugar and chilli powder respectively. [So far, each member chose different ingredients!!! Will they succeed?]

“PD-nim,” Wooyoung cheekily addresses the director behind the cameras in the room, “isn’t it going too well?” He bursts into his signature giggle as the others laugh along. [Who are you guys...?]

Juliet grins when she sees the matching smiles on the staffs’ faces. “Isn’t it boring? Aren’t you bored with this?” she cutely taunts, but almost immediately stops. “Oh, wait...I hope I didn’t just jinx us,” she adds sheepishly. [Master of foreshadowing...?]

She really should’ve seen it coming, because nothing is ever too good to be true. The group, now joined by Mingi, watch in shock and exasperation when Yeosang decides to add sugar like Yunho already did. [The tteokbokki’s already been messed up...]

Hongjoong whimpers, “We already added the sugar...”

“No! No!” they whisper-yell when Yeosang starts spooning the sugar, desperately trying to send telepathic signals. [Their telepathy fails for the first time] Their efforts are futile as the oblivious member happily skips over to the pot with the cup of sugar in his hand. [If you’re happy, that’s all that matters, Yeosang...] Juliet collapses to the floor and hits it with her fists as she wails.

Before he adds the sugar, Yeosang turns to the camera and gives a thumbs-up twice. [Hey guys! Aren’t I the best? Did I do well?] At this, Juliet’s expressions immediately sobers and she sits up on the floor. “Why is he giving us a thumbs-up?” she half-heartedly deadpans, “he’s the only one so far who chose the wrong thing.” [She hits Yeosang with a cold fact]

Her members and the staff laugh silently at her pouty face. “Yah, she’s really starting to get mad,” Yunho jokes, pointing to her face so the cameras can film it. [The tteokbokki is ruined, oppa...ㅠㅠ]

Things take a turn for the worst when San adds even more sugar while the other eight members can only watch helplessly through the screen. [Bitter smiles] “Is it supposed to be this sticky?” he asks innocently as he stirs the sugar into the pot.

“Not if you added something else!” Juliet whines, tossing away the cushion in her lap from mock frustration as the others cackle at her outburst. [Get ready to face the wrath of the maknae]

Wooyoung wraps his arms around her from behind. “Don’t get mad, don’t get mad!”

“Let’s eat!” San shouts, [The relay cooking is over] and the eight members instantly pile out of the room, loudly complaining as they curiously make their way over to the pot while Mingi chases San around the living room.

Juliet grabs a fork and spears it into a rice cake. Right away, the overwhelming sweetness attacks her taste buds and becomes the only thing she tastes. She winces, glancing at her members who have equally pained smiles on their faces. Yunho even saying it tastes like spicy red bean porridge.

She discreetly cranes her neck to find the camera, quickly realising she is mostly obscured by the others from it. She creeps to the other side of the island to grab the soy sauce and gochujang before sneakily dumping a good amount of both into the pot, stirring briskly in an attempt to disguise her actions, but they don’t go unnoticed by the members around her and the editors. [Juliet...what are you doing..? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ] Jongho and Hongjoong watch her and snicker, the former pouring more water into their snack to mellow out the sickly sweetness of the sauce.

The game ends with everyone rinsing out the taste of the tteokbokki with, ironically, more sugary soda, and Juliet makes a mental reminder that the best course of action is to simply order takeout when it comes to ATEEZ.

[This is it for the telepathy relay cooking. The challenge is complete!]

a/n: ahshjahs i had no idea how to end this💀💀thank you so much for reading🥺💗

#scenarios.juliet #ateez 9th member #ateez ninth member #kpop oc #idol oc #ateez oc #kpop addition #idol addition #ateez addition #kpop imagines #idol imagines #ateez imagines #kpop au #idol au #ateez au

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castiel-kline · 4 years

Note

cas and balthazar meet again post finale

This one really got away from me, and it got really long. I promise it does answer the prompt but I also made it super plotty for some reason. I hope you don’t mind!

Being taken by the Empty didn’t feel like dying.

Of course, that’s what was happening to him, but it didn’t feel like that. It felt cold, and painful, and vengeful. Lonely and miserable and laced with glittering knives of regret.

It was his damnation. Not the traditional sense of the word, but true nonetheless.

But if facing it meant he’d save his family? Save Jack from being subject to the same fate? He’d damn himself to this a thousand times over, without a single shred of hesitation.

The Empty had him entirely covered in its goo, tendrils snaking under his skin and into his body from every angle. In through the eyes, the nose, snaking down his throat. Under the fingernails, into the ears, scraping through the tattered remnants of his grace and pressing down around his true form.

It was agony.

Eventually it subsided, and some of the inky tendrils retracted, leaving him gasping for air that neither existed in this realm nor was truly necessary. He collapsed in a heap, the Empty bubbling around him. He spared a glance up, wondering if the Shadow were nearby to gloat before sending them both into slumber. What he saw… well. Unexpected didn’t quite cover it.

“Jack?”

“Hmm. Guess again, Castiel.”

“No.” Don’t you dare look like him.

“Oh, yes. Because it hurts you to look at him, doesn’t it?” The Shadow leaned down, condescension clear as day in its every move. So wrong on Jack’s face that it twisted something deep within him. It stared him down, watching him squirm, mania-painted smirk stretching wider. “Good. I want you to suffer, so that’s what you’re going to do.”

“I thought you wanted your peace and quiet,” Cas managed, as more tendrils snaked out over his wrists and ankles. Dragging him a little bit further down, completely at the Empty’s mercy. Somehow he suspected that was the point.

The Shadow straightened, looking down Jack’s nose at him.

“Of course I do,” It said, emulating Jack’s earnestness. Liar. “But I can’t!”

“What?”

“Wonderboy-” the Shadow gesticulated wildly in the direction of its facsimile body “-woke everybody up when he exploded all over me. So I don’t get to sleep, no, and if I don’t get to sleep then you definitely don’t get to sleep. None at all.”

Quicker than a blink, the Shadow had fisted Castiel’s collar in its hands, bringing their faces inches apart.

“At least,” It whispered, eyes wild with an energy Jack had never, and would never, possess. “I get to make you suffer like you’ve made me suffer. So I want you to look at this face, Castiel. Look at it, and know that it’s contorted in tears right now because Papa Bear abandoned him.”

The Shadow threw him down, the goo swallowing him right back up. Submerged in the dark, he scarcely felt its weight. He was too busy drowning in a fresh cascade of guilt.

It yanked him back up, tendrils leaving him suspended in the middle of nothing. Some of them twisted at his feathers, pulling them just enough to be excruciating but not enough to rip them free. He screamed.

“Be quiet!” The Empty released him, and Cas fell back down, every fibre of his being crying out in pain.

The Shadow cackled, everything about it from the pitch to the cadence to the intention screaming wrong, wrong, wrong.

“You’re never going to regret this, are you?”

Cas glared at it, mustering up as much defiance as he could.

“No,” he croaked. “Because saving my family? That’s worth dying a thousand deaths.”

The Shadow doubled over laughing again. Then, quick as a blink, kicked him across the face, sending him reeling backwards.

“‘Die a thousand deaths’? Please. You’re pathetic, you know that?”

Castiel pushed himself back up, following the Shadow’s pacing with his eyes. It walked with one arm tucked behind its back, the other gesticulating as it spoke.

“Death isn’t going to be enough for you, hmm. Oh, you know what you’ve never been able to take?” It spun back around, grinning down at him. “You can’t stand seeing the pain you’ve caused. And since you can’t see what’s left of your precious little family- not that they even care that you died, by the way- how would you feel about seeing the angels again?”

No. He must have looked visibly afraid, because the Shadow only smiled wider.

“Not so pleasant a thought, hmm? Seeing as you killed most of them.” It laughed again, clapping its hands in an expression of glee that would have been endearing coming from Jack, but now simply served to be disturbing. “Oh, yes. It’ll be just like throwing a scrap of meat to a pack of starving dogs.”

Cas shook his head, but the Empty pressed on. It waved its hand, and Castiel was thrown some immeasurable distance away. He pushed himself to a sitting position, and watched in horror as the ground bubbled around him, and his brothers and sisters began to crawl their way out.

He recognized them, of course, because he’d taken care to never forget a single name. He saw Hael first, then Bartholomew, then Jonah and Efram and Ambriel and Samandriel. He saw Raphael, Uriel, Anna, Jophiel. He scrambled to his feet, unable to do anything but watch and wait for their wrath to undoubtedly descend upon him.

Someone grabbed him from behind and pulled, running and dragging Castiel with them. He didn’t fight it, figuring that whoever had him was going to inflict a world of pain and there wasn’t a thing to do but accept it. They’d gone a fair distance, if there was such a thing as distance in nothing, before they stopped and Cas turned to face who had taken him.

“Balthazar?” His voice came out strangled, as scarcely more than a whisper.

“Cas,” Balthazar said, staring at him with something unreadable in his eyes. “Your wings…”

“Balthazar,” Cas repeated, finding himself unable to say anything else, mind swirling in an inescapable vortex of grief and guilt and pain. “I’m sorry, my friend. I’m so sorry.”

“What, for killing me? You weren’t yourself.”

“I was. That’s the problem.”

Balthazar just shook his head. “It’s going to take more than a stab in the back to get rid of me. You do know that, right?”

“If we weren’t already dead I’d offer you my blade to kill me. I deserve nothing more.”

“Castiel.” Cas forced himself to meet Balthazar’s eyes directly. “I know you, and so I forgive you. As I’ve told you before- nothing’s changed.”

Cas smiled bitterly. “Except me.”

“What happened to you?” Balthazar’s fingers traced the air where Castiel’s wings lay mangled and twisted in another dimension. “You look like you’ve been clawed apart by feral house cats.”

“I destroyed everything, Balthazar. So many times.” And he felt like he was being crushed under the weight of all his mistakes. Perhaps this was the torture the Empty preferred for him- giving him back a lost friend, giving him forgiveness- and then ripping it away again. Surely even someone as loyal as Balthazar wouldn’t want to associate with him after learning of the things he’d done.

“You, Cassie? I’ve only ever known you to do what’s right.”

“How can you say that when you saw me make one of my biggest mistakes? When I killed you because of it?”

Balthazar scoffed. “Mistake? Cas, you were trying to stop our control freak of an older brother from letting the other ones out to destroy the world. What about that is a mistake? Sure, Crowley was a bit of a snake, but come on. It can’t have been so long that you’ve forgotten your good intentions.”

Cas didn’t say a word, and Balthazar narrowed his eyes. “How long has it been, Cas?”

Cas sighed. “Nine years.”

“Nine years.” Balthazar’s eyebrows had shot all the way up. “Wow. Not long at all. So what could… no. Tell me you weren’t.”

Castiel frowned. “Weren’t what?”

“Weren’t still kissing the Winchesters’ asses for the whole nine years.”

“They’re my friends, Balthazar.”

“Oh, really?” Balthazar crossed his arms. “If they’re your friends, why did they treat you like one of the guns they keep in the trunk of their wretched car?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it, Cas?” Balthazar sighed, backing down a little. Nine years of death wouldn’t stop them from bickering, it seemed, though he did put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. An uncharacteristic attempt to show solidarity through the sarcasm.

“Look,” Balthazar continued. “What you do is your business, but… just tell me there was something good in those years. That it wasn’t just you running around trying to prove yourself to them.”

There was something, in fact, something he’d never expected. Something beautiful.

“I had a son,” he admitted. He’d often wondered what Jack would be like meeting angels that weren’t hell-bent on killing him. He’d imagined Jack meeting Balthazar, or Hannah, or Rachel or Samandriel, but it would never come to fruition. The best he would get was telling them about him, assuming he would be able to escape being choked and stretched and drowned by the depths of the Empty for all eternity.

“Why, Cassie, I’m impressed,” Balthazar said wryly. Oh no. Before Cas could interject and explain, Balthazar continued. “Looks like you really did get that stick out of your ass. And you put it right up-”

“Balthazar! He’s not mine, not like that. He chose me, and his mother was a friend. That’s all.”

Balthazar seemed to enjoy how flustered he was, but his tone was serious. “You adopted a human child?”

“No, he’s a nephilim.”

“Ah,” Balthazar said. “So they changed the rules regarding them in the past nine years, then?”

“No,” Cas said again, getting frustrated. He’d forgotten how much Balthazar loved to hear himself speak. Even if he had missed it, it was still mildly insufferable.

“Well, you rebel Cas, you. But, ah- who was the sire?”

Cas winced. “Lucifer.”

“Oh, my. That is unfortunate.”

“Yeah. Jack’s nothing like him, though. He’s… he’s very much like his mother. And I like to think he’s a little bit like me, too.”

Balthazar looked at him, somehow still reading him like a book after all this time.

“You spoil the poor child, don’t you?”

“I most certainly do not,” Cas huffed.

“Oh, yes you do. You’ve always been soft, but now you’re practically a down pillow.”

Cas’ smile was sadder, again. “I told you I’ve changed.”

“Maybe so. But we haven’t.”

“Thank you.”

Balthazar smiled. “I do have one question though, Cas.”

“Of course.”

“How did you die?”

Well. He supposed it would have had to be asked eventually. Unfortunately his hesitation gave Balthazar another opportunity to talk over him.

“Please don’t tell me it was for the Winchesters.”

“I love them.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. And unfortunately I love that about you. Well, go on. Tell me a story.”

Cas shrugged. “I made a deal with the Empty. My life for Jack’s, which- it wasn’t even a question. It said that when I was finally happy, it would take me.”

Balthazar frowned. “What did you in?”

“You know, I’m not really sure. But I managed to save Dean, and that’s all that matters.”

“Oh, Cas,” Balthazar muttered, sounding deeply sad. “Well, at least you were clearly a better father than our dear old absent God. That much is clear.”

Cas’ heart sank. He couldn’t not tell him, though he didn’t necessarily want to break the news.

“Balthazar.”

“What?”

“Um. A lot has happened since I’ve last seen you, and there’s a lot you need to know, but God- God was never on our side.”

--------

They walked aimlessly through the Empty, keeping aware for signs of their siblings or the Shadow, but oddly finding none.

“Well then,” Balthazar said, flippant as ever. Cas was nearly sure he was deflecting.

“That’s all you have to say? You’re not angry?”

“Nope.” Forced cheerfulness. “Never liked him anyway. Frankly, I’m surprised you even met the man.”

Cas paused and stopped moving, feeling something tugging at his grace.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Balthazar had stopped too, hovering closer.

A pocket of the nothingness in front of them seemed to pull itself inward, caving in like a black hole and then cracking open just a bit. Was this what it looked like when someone died and came to the Empty?

Hopefully not, because the distortion cleared and Jack was standing there. And it was painfully, obviously Jack, clearly indicated by everything from his posture to the grace Cas could feel reaching for his own.

Balthazar stiffened, preparing for a fight, but the minute Jack caught sight of Castiel the angel found himself with an armful of nephilim. He held on tight, feeling Jack trembling slightly.

Having connected the dots, Balthazar caught his eye over Jack’s shoulder and mouthed “down pillow.” Cas shook his head slightly, but turned his attention back to his son.

“Jack? Are you-”

“I’m getting you out, Cas,” Jack said, pulling back. “We’re both getting out of here.”

Balthazar’s stricken expression tugged at Cas’ heart.

“Just me?” Cas asked.

Jack’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The other angels are awake, Jack. Can you…”

“I… maybe. But, Cas, I don’t… I don’t know them. Why…”

“It’s alright if you can’t,” Cas assured. “But if we can help them somehow, be that bringing them back or putting them to sleep… I need to try to make things right.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll try to help.”

Cas smiled at him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Thank you. And thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course. I missed you,” Jack said, eyes wide. Cas felt something else inside him twisting.

Balthazar cleared his throat, and Cas gently turned Jack around to face the third member of their party.

“Jack, this is Balthazar. He’s a good friend.”

Jack and Balthazar looked at each other, Jack frowning and Balthazar smirking in a horribly misguided attempt to be friendly. The silence stretched on, utterly deafening. Jack broke it first.

“I… I met an alternate universe version of you that was not very nice.”

Balthazar didn’t miss a beat.

“Well, you know what they say. Don’t judge an angel by their alternate universe counterparts, right?”

That got a bit of a smile out of Jack, though he was still wary. Cas couldn’t blame him, so he kept in contact to keep him at ease.

“We need to find the Shadow. Make an arrangement so that we can take a few angels with us and the Empty goes back to peace and quiet,” Jack said. The self-assuredness was clearly a front, but somehow Cas felt as if he’d have time to help Jack through it.

“Okay,” he said, nodding at Jack. Jack nodded back, and the three of them started walking. Into what, they didn’t know.

But Castiel had the strangest feeling that it was all going to turn out alright.

#castiel #balthazar #spn #asks #prompts #napsterofficial #winchester critical #<bc of balthazar lmao #other prompts I am getting to y’all soon I promise!!#kitkat writes

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