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0asterous0 · 2 months ago

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Prologue, Finale part.

"Grian runs in to find the girl and get her (and hopefully her mother) to safety." - Previous chapter.

TW// blood, gore, death.

He ran towards the explosion. He wanted so much to just stay away from all of this, but that’s a kid, either completely alone or with her mother wounded and unconscious. What kind of person would he be, if he just left in a situation like this? He didn’t care about people around who were running in the opposite direction, away from the trouble; if they could sleep after this, without a pang of guilt consuming them whole, Grian definitely couldn’t.

The second he turned the corner, he saw the entrance to the STARR labs, enveloped in flames. Come on, who attacks a blood donor lab? Some of these villains are just complete assholes, aren’t they? He briefly sees a little girl through the broken floor-to-ceiling windows, her leg stuck under the rubble, and runs towards her, quickly jumping in through the door that flew away from the hinges the moment the explosion struck.

“I’m here,” He says quietly, the moment he goes down on his knees in front of the poor girl, trying to take off the rubble. “It’s okay, I’m gonna get you out, okay?”

The little girl looks up at her, eyes full of tears, but still nods, trying to contain her sobbing. Gods, she was so brave right now, Grian hopes her parents are proud. The last rock is lifted off her feet, and he can see the damage done to her legs, one bruised and one dripping down blood, bend in a different direction. The second the girl sees it, she bursts into tears even worse than before. Right, it’s hard sometimes to comprehend the true damage if you can’t see it, but now that she has, she’s probably terrified.

“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay, we can take care of it!” Grian says, trying to sound as calm and collected as he can. The last thing he wants is to scare her even more. Looking down at her leg again, he could tell that it was broken, so he needed to be as gentle as possible to avoid making it even more painful for her.

“Is your mom around here?” He asks, quickly looking around the room. There was smoke and rubble everywhere, but not a single other person. Maybe she was let inside, they were probably here for a blood test after all. But thinking about it, it was even worse because that meant she was closer to the explosion than he thought. The little girl refused to answer. No– it’s more that she couldn’t answer through all the sobbing.

“No!” Grian hears the scream of a man before he runs out of the door at the end of the room. His lab coat was fully ruined and there was blood on his temple, slowly running down his face. He looked terrified running away from something. Grian had a second to grab the girl and hide with her behind the giant rubble, before a sudden yellow light covered the whole room, immediately dying down. The man screams again, and a second later, Grian can hear a loud crash followed by a choking sound.

“P-pl..ea..se” the man struggles to talk.

Grian is scared. Something in him is telling him to look behind and see what is happening, but his whole body is shaking. He has a hand covering the poor girl's mouth to keep her quiet. He doesn’t know who is behind this attack, and unfortunately, there are a lot of villains who are not afraid to hurt a child.

“Where are they?” He hears a new voice, hidden by a voice changer. Surprisingly, he sounds very calm, but Grian can hear the venom in it, his anger and annoyance fully on display. There’s another thud, the man falling to the ground. From what he can imagine, he was probably held by his collar to the wall and now was dropped to the floor.

“I.. I d-don’t know.. What.. What th-they?”

“Stop playing dumb!” The previous calmness was nowhere to be heard now, the new voice rising in anger, turning into a shout. It sends shivers down Grian’s spine. “The suitcases! They delivered three this morning! They should be here, but they aren’t, so where are they?!”

Grian lets out a shaky breath and finally, risking everything, looks out from the hiding spot to see what is happening. As he guessed, the man working in the lab was now lying on the ground, almost in tears looking up at the other man while trembling.

Grian knows this villain. Standing above the scientist was a man with heavy muscles, mostly hidden by the black cloak running down his shoulders. The black and yellow striped costume’s interior was giving a slight glow, alongside the gas mask on his face, while there was running electricity in his hair to fully cover it in a yellow light. The sparks were flying all around the room, while his right leg was pushing down on the poor man's chest as hard as possible, causing him to cough in pain.

Static.

Okay, Grian, what do you know about Static? His mind supplies.

Static first appeared around five years ago; first as a vigilante, helping Boatem’s citizens with everything he could, from cleaning up the parks to stopping the street robberies even though he never worked under the law, which caused him to be the victim of police hunts for years. That was just over two years ago when his official status was changed to a villain after an attack on a public place.

Static is known for attacking mostly large companies. He does leave a lot of casualties behind, but it’s rarely lethal and never a direct attack on civilians, mostly because of his very destructive enchantment. That means that if he sees them, there is a big chance he will just let them go.

“I d-don’t.. I-I-I c-can’t,” The man is choking on his tears, looking up at Static petrified. Even Grian understood that lying in a situation like this didn’t make any sense. When dealing with villains, you always need to remember that most of them don’t show any mercy. The lightning around Static disappeared for a second. He slowly lifted his leg off the man's chest, immediately hitting him once again harder, but this time, he can hear the man screaming, surrounded by the yellow sparks. Fuck, did he just electrocute the man? It lasted for a few seconds, Grian desperately holding the poor girl in his hands who was shaking in horror, listening to the agonizing screams. It cut off as quickly as it started.

“Last chance,” Static’s voice sounded flat again, no emotion peeking through the gas mask covering his mouth. If the smell of this place was bad before, with all the rubble and fire around, now it smelled like a lump of overcooked meat– it made him shiver. “I can find out on my own, you know, you can’t hide them from me– so speak before I hurt you even more.” As if on cue, his electricity sparked once again, crackling across the room and missing Grian’s face by an inch. He jumped, his face hiding behind the rubble once again to calm down. That was very close.

“It’s in Falsewell! P-please, It’s in F-Falsewell!” The man screamed, and Grian shifted, his shoulders slightly dropping. That’s�� That’s good, now that Static has information he will leave; that is what he’s after most of the time, right?

“Which lab?”

“B-18! I-It’s… the one in front of-of the historical museum,” Grian slowly relocated back to the corner, looking out towards the two men. He could see how the poor guy was still shaking, lying on the ground, now with his eyes closed. Static’s boot was still on his chest, and Grian could see that he was not planning to move anytime soon.

“What’s your badge number?”

“HC-24, I-I don’t know anything, I p-promise!”

“Dust?” Static asked, turning his head slightly left. A few inches and he would have looked directly at Grian, but that was definitely not the plan, he still didn’t know they were there, no, he was talking to someone. He could see from here a little device in his ear, the control over his powers was terrifyingly good if it didn’t get destroyed in this lightning show, so close to his hair which was constantly buzzing in yellow light. But that gave Grian another question. Who’s Dust? He never heard that name before, someone new around here? And Static always worked alone before, but suddenly he has a partner? That was… a problem. What was in those suitcases that they were after?

“No… No, n-no, please! PLEASE!”

“Oh, well,” Static started, turning back towards the man. He lifted his leg, putting it down next to the man, and squatting down to look closely at him. “It’s your lucky day!”

Grian didn’t have time to look away. Barely under a minute, the poor man lying on the ground gave a relieved smile just before Static grabbed his face by hand. There was no scream of agony, just a growing sound of electricity, and an explosion under Static’s palm. Being blinded for a second wasn’t enough– Grian wished he hadn’t seen the moment that blood with pieces of meat and skin and muscle was splattered around Static; the man’s body was still shaking, seizing with electricity while blood dripped down his fully exposed and shattered skull. The body twitched and writhed with the aftershocks of the very dead man’s adrenaline, and Grian nearly vomited at the sight and the smell of the burnt up bits-and-pieces of the corpse.

Grian has seen injuries before– he has seen death before, but nothing was as gruesome as this. He couldn’t let the child see it. No, no, no, she couldn’t see it, this would ruin her for the rest of her life. He needed to… To hide, yes. They just needed to stay there until Static left, and then he would get her out, and he-

For a second, their eyes met. Grian immediately retreated towards the corner, hiding deeper behind the rubble, and holding the girl by his side, trying to shield her. Just a few minutes ago he was sure that they were okay, but now after witnessing this, he couldn’t risk it. He heard the sound of footsteps getting closer to their hiding spot, and he could feel the girl trembling in fear, trying to say something through Grian’s hand. No, no, no, not now!

“You don’t work here,” Grian didn’t even notice that he had his eyes closed, before he had to open them, meeting face to face with the villain, who crouched in front of them. The same way he did with the man. No. no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

The child let out a quiet sob, shaking. Looking down at her, he could see a wet puddle growing around her. Gods, this poor girl. He wanted to cry with her. He should have just picked her up and run when they had a chance, she wouldn’t need to be here.

Static’s hand reached forward towards the girl, and Grain instinctively tried to shield her behind him. Fuck it, if they were dying here, he would at least try to protect her with his life– he would not go down without a fight. He just needs to… skin contact, right!! Grian, you spoon! He needs to touch Static’s skin and he can fight, but..

“I’m not gonna hurt her, calm down,” Static sounded peaceful, his glow around disappearing, only staying in his hair, which Grain knew was part of his costume to hide the identity. Grain observed him carefully, trying to find a hint of a lie in his voice, eyes, and body language, but Static looked… relaxed, as if he didn’t just take someone’s life. He was also reaching towards them with another hand, not the one still dripping blood, with remains of skin now attached to the black glove. He didn’t know what kind of reaction the girl would have if he did.

He saw a hand getting closer and closer, and he scanned from the skin, he just... He just needed to get in contact with his skin, and everything would be fine… He just... He couldn’t see an open skin anywhere but Static’s face above the gas mask, and he knew that reaching for his face would be a suicide. His hand touched the girl's broken leg, and for a second Grian stilled, forgetting how to breathe. There was nothing, and a second later, he saw lightning enwrap her leg before the girl let out a scream.

“What the hell?!” Grian screamed, jumping backward and taking the girls with her, as far as possible. “You said you weren’t gonna hurt her!!” He looked down at her, trying to see if it left any marks or burns, but he couldn’t see anything, other than the damage that was already done.

“And I didn’t, she just got scared,” Static responded, slowly standing up. “I numbed her pain, broken bones are very painful to deal with, especially at her age when they are so fragile. The ambulance will be around here soon, she will be fine.”

With that, he turned around and went towards the exit, the doors missing from the hinges. Grian’s blood boiled. He was the one that attacked the blood donor lab, he was the one that got civilians into trouble, he was the one who’s actions broke that bone– and now he’s trying to act as if he isn’t? As if the girl should be thankful that he helped?

“She was here with her mother!” He screamed at Static’s back, seeing him stop in place. Fuck, he shouldn’t have done that, right? He can just turn around and kill him, he said that he wouldn’t hurt her, not him.

“People are still inside,” Static countered, still not turning back and continuing to walk. “I told them not to leave before the heroes or police get them out, she’s probably fine.” With that, the form of the villain got wrapped up in the air in a lightning strike, disappearing from view. Right, he can control electricity and turn into it.

“You alright?” He immediately asked, looking down at the poor girls, who continued to sob. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, but instead of answering, she just burst into more sobbing, hugging him and hiding her nose in his shoulder. He let out a sigh and picked her up, holding her close to his chest. “Just… stay like this for a second, okay?”

He slowly left their hiding spot, trying to keep the girl's face in the opposite direction from the corpse, hoping that she wouldn't see it, and finally got outside. He could still smell the smoke, both from the reception that they just left, and the second floor– which he could see through the window– was still in flames, worse than the first. If Grian’s not mistaken, the second floor is where they keep all documents and blood tests. Static probably wanted to destroy something specific but found out that it wasn’t here anymore. He wonders what was in those suitcases that drove him to these measures. And who the heck was Dust?

“Let’s just… wait a little longer, okay? I’m sure heroes will be here soon,” On cue, from the corner of his vision, he saw something jumping onto the second floor from the roof, clearly in a costume; after that, an ambulance and several police cars followed.

Grian didn’t leave until a group of people ran out from the lab, one of them bursting into tears and immediately approaching the ambulance where the girl was seated. They wanted to take her to the hospital, but after telling them about her mother still in the lab, they decided to wait– and for a good reason, considering the woman approaching them had a gushing wound on her forehead, the red liquid running down to her eyes.

Grian wanted to leave, he wanted to hide from the cops as soon as possible; and now with heroes in sight, his anxiety was rising even faster. Which is why the moment mother and daughter were reunited, he turned away from his dark little corner and took off.

By this time the rain had already stopped, which was quite inconvenient. Like- how is it that it rains the whole day, but stops the moment something explodes and bursts into flames? Grian let out a shaky and anxious chuckle, finally approaching the apartment.

“Oh, no…” Grian mumbled when he finally looked down at his phone; he could spot at least 3 missed calls in the last hour from Ren, alongside many worried messages. It’s okay, Ren will understand.

“Dude! You scared the hell out of me! Where were you?!” Ren exploded the second Grian took a step into the apartment, making him sigh. Taking off the shoes and the coat, he immediately turned towards the bathroom, mumbling on his way as he knew that Ren was following him.

“I was walking back when the STARR Labs exploded, you probably saw it?” Opening the door, he went inside and dropped the coat inside the washing machine, then took off his shirt. It still smelled of smoke, rubble, and urine– and while he’s not the most hygienic person these weeks, even he can’t walk around with this on. Also, he’s pretty sure he will get fired the moment he shows up to work with his uniform smelling like this.

“Of course I saw it! I was here when the explosion went off, and I could see the smoke rising! What were you doing in the lab that had you caught in the middle of this?” Ren asked, crossing his hands, his dog ears nervously twitching.

“I wasn’t in the lab, I just..” Grian stopped in his tracks after throwing the shirt into the washing machine and looked up at Ren, before moving his vision to anything other than Ren. “I heard a scream... A little girl yelling for her mother, so I… I decided to help, and then couldn’t leave the lab, because the villain was right at the door…”

“You were in the same room as a villain?!” Ren exclaimed, his hands dropping down. He stared at Grian for a few seconds, before his expression softened. “You helped her?”

“Yeah…” He answered, unsure what to do with himself, but still met Ren’s eyes when he smiled at him.

“Of course you did, you have that in you,” Ren whispered. It sounded like he was… proud, which made everything inside him twist. He was a coward. The whole time he spent there hiding, not even trying to help the pitiful man who fell victim to Static’s hands. And even then, when the villain approached them, he couldn’t do anything but sit there and watch. What if he did hurt her? Would he just sit there, holding the corpse of the poor girl, seeing a mess of unrecognizable gore instead of a face like Static did to that man? He didn’t, but what if he did? In the end, Grain did nothing to protect her.

“I don’t think that’s right,” Grian murmured, avoiding Ren’s gaze again. He quickly moved around him and left the bathroom, the washing machine now on and spinning as fast as his day managed to spiral. Ren followed him back to his room.

“Oh come on, Grian, you know I’m right,” He said, overly enthusiastic. “I... Grian, listen,”

“I’m listening,” he responded, though he didn’t even look back, searching through his closet and grabbing the first t-shirt he saw to get dressed. As much as he loved being without the shirts, his wings out and breathing, the small holes on the back were enough to get them through and move around. Ren let out a sigh, and Grian heard a sound coming from his bed. Sitting on his bed, the other spoke up.

“I know that… something happened with you before we met,” He starts, and Grian instantly tenses. They never talked about Grian’s childhood, it was basically a taboo in this house, never to be discussed. Hearing Ren finally mention it… scared him. “And you don’t have to tell me anything, you know this, we talked about this before, but I’m not blind, Grian– I can see a spark inside of you.”

He can’t. There’s no spark inside him, and there hasn’t been one for a long time now. It all died years ago, the day he made the choice of a coward and ran away.

“But whatever happened scarred and scared you, that’s why you’re so careful right now. Sometimes I look at you and see the mischief in your eyes, but then you notice it too and try to lock it down, acting like helping others or having fun is the worst thing that might happen to you.”

It is. He does not deserve any of it. He couldn’t save the people he wanted to save the most, he was a coward, and if he let them down, how can he help others? People that he doesn’t even know. And how can he have fun, when he ruined the lives of so many? He should rot. They are probably wishing the same on him, after what he did. It wouldn’t be a surprise.

“You need to pick up the pieces of your life, Grian, and finally get it together because you will be so much happier when you look up and do something that you want to do,” Grian wanted to cry. Ren continued to talk and his voice never quivered, always the same determination, the same trust and belief, belief that Grian actually deserved to be happy.

He doesn’t know what his life would end up like without him. He never had a “lucky” life, but Ren? Sometimes he thought that Ren was the gift from above, and he wasn’t even a believer– it was just so surreal, that someone like Ren would stumble across someone like Grian, and instead of moving forward, approach him and offer him help. His roommate didn’t know anything about Grian’s childhood, didn’t know anything about his trauma; and yet, he stayed by his side. He doesn’t deserve a person like Ren in his life.

“Just… just think about it, okay? I know you’re not having the best days of your life, and I kinda understand why,” It was a cycle. It happened every year around February, it was only a matter of time before Ren noticed it. “But I… You need help, Grian.”

“What?”

How did they get here? Ren started this conversation by saying that Grian wanted to help others and that he should if he wanted to, so why… Why are they suddenly switching to this? He doesn’t need help. Help for what?

“You don’t feel well, Grian, It might not be me, but you need to talk to someone,” Grian fought every impulse of looking at him. Everything was telling him to do it, to meet his eyes and finally put an end to this, but he couldn’t. Not today.

Ren exhaled, and Grian heard the bed shifting. “As I said, just think about it– I’m gonna go make us some dinner, you’re probably very hungry,” Ren left the room as he said it, but before closing the door behind him, he quickly added, “Someone left that mail in front of the door today, by the way,” Ha? “I didn’t open it because it’s addressed in your name.”

With that, Grian was left to his thoughts. He let out a shaky breath and held back a sob, trying not to break down. Gods, why did it affect him so much? How did Ren know just what to say, to almost bring him to tears?

He turned around, facing the bed Ren was just occupying, and noticed a small box lying on top of it. He doesn't remember buying anything online, and even if he did, the box wouldn’t be delivered to the door– they would have gotten a piece of paper telling them about the package, and Grian would have needed to pick it up at the station. This was left by someone else.

Curiosity in him won, and biting down on his lip, he took the paper knife from the desk and slowly cut the top of the box. After dropping the knife to the bed, he opened the carton and noticed the pink.

Huh???

He dug into the box and took out a crop-top jacket: the wool was painted pink with a red heart in the middle of the chest, the heart outlined in black. Grian loves red, but he doesn’t think he has ever worn pink out of his work uniform– and screw that, why is someone leaving clothes at his door? Putting the jacket aside, the next thing he grabbed was the white pants, once again dotted with small heart patches around, this time colored in pink instead of red.

What the hell???

Is this spandex?? And here it was, on the bottom of the box, a black turtleneck made of spandex, with a black domino mask on top looking back at him. Was Ren pulling some kind of a joke on him? What does this all mean? There’s no way someone actually left this at their door and addressed it in his name.

He took out the shirt, ready to turn around and go to Ren to ask some questions when his eyes were caught by a piece of paper falling down, which was hidden between the domino and the spandex. He picked up the paper from the floor and opened it. A letter.

Listen to your friend and remember my words.

You know where the suitcases are.

Time is ticking.

- Oracle

P.S. You will need this soon, good luck!

Grian doesn’t remember how long he stood there, rereading the letter over and over again, trying to wrap his mind around it. He wasn’t sure it was from Ren anymore. Time is ticking. Remember my words. The stranger. Of course. Grian knew that there was something strange about that man in the morning, but he didn’t think that it might evolve into something worse. The suitcases? The ones Static was after? Did they want Grian to intervene? But why?

Grian sighed, sitting down on his bed and looking back towards the new clothes. Something was telling him that he was about to get into something much bigger than he ever wanted to. And something was telling him that his boring day-to-day life was about to become much more interesting.

_______

'-.° Masterpost - Next Part °.-'

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artzee-bee · 3 years ago

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Not going anywhere | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer

Request:” Hi i have request for you ,Lucifer and the reader have a big fight they are married, and this fight it's lucifer fault The reader leaves home and Lucifer decides to give her space After a few days, he goes to the reader and realizes that she has been missing for a few days,When the person behind all this claims that the reader is dead and gives them a her body . Everyone thinks that the reader is dead and Lucifer He gets depressed and thinks it's all his fault , and after a few days, the thieves release the singer and the reader goes to Lucifer.Lucifer first thinks it is an imagination and then apologizes to the reader Thank you so much”

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: kidnapping, death

~~~

Your intention had never been to start a fight. All you wanted an explanation (preferably one that also made sense) and an apology, but apparently that was too much to ask, because as soon as you voiced your opinion, Lucifer went up in flames

“Don’t start this again!”

“I dislike it just as much as you do but what I hate more is being cancelled on, AGAIN, through a text message no less!”

“It was an emergency!”

“It’s always an emergency Lucifer! It’s starting to sound a lot like work means more to you than I do!” “The detective needs me, damn it!” your husband yelled

“And she has you! Every day of every week! All I ask for is one date night and for the past month you’ve done nothing but avoid committing to one or backing out at the last second! I’m tired of being your second choice Lucifer! I’m your wife and you are my husband, I love you to the ends of the world, I just wish you'd say no to Decker from time to time...”

“I’m saving people’s lives Y/N. So if you’re not on your deathbed, other people are and they need me now!” as he said this, Lucifer walked right past you and into your bedroom, seemingly ignorant to the painful words he’d just said. You looked around the living room, vision blurry with tears, your chest heavy with anger and disgust. You rushed towards the elevator.

“When you find time in your busy schedule and feel like being my spouse again, let me know!” the elevator door closed before Lucifer could say anything

~~~

When Lucifer woke up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, he didn’t think much of it.Truthfully, he was still kind of pissed at the attitude you had given him a day before, so he got dressed as usual and went to the precinct, assuming you’ll be home by nightfall.

Except when he got home that night, he stopped by Lux first, which ended up like it always does: with him sucked into an endless cycle of booze and dancing, that lasted until well into the night. When he did enter the penthouse eventually, he found it empty. Exactly the way he had left it in the morning. Even the tie he had left on the floor, after deciding last minute that it didn’t go with his suit, was untouched. Now this was curious, but still, Lucifer felt like you must be playing hard to get. He sent you one text message, before going to bed

“Call me when you can!”

The day after that, he figured his part was done! By reaching out first, he had already made a big compromise, so now it was your turn! To reach out, come home! But that didn’t happen that day, or the day after that.

Three days after the text message,Lucifer was getting worried. He was looking at his phone every other minute. Always making sure he hadn’t accidently put it on silent or missed any texts. He sent more messages, telling you he was sorry and that he wanted you to come home. That he would listen and spend more time with you, promising luxurious dates and weekend trips, if only you forgave him. You didn’t even open the messages.

“Lucifer are you listening?” Decker was insanely annoyed at her partner’s lack of concentration

“Sorry detective. I’ve...I’ve got a lot on my mind”

“Well, better get it out of the way now, so that we can move on to our case!” she said, cleaning out her desk quickly, before resting back into her chair “Talk to me!”

“It’s Y/N. I’m worried about her!”

“Why?” “We...had a fight a couple days ago and she left. She hasn’t come back since”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“No…” Lucifer said, embarrassed at his own lack of care for you. He should have called you earlier, reached out more! He should have tried harder!

“How long had she been missing for?”

“4...maybe 5 days…”

“Lucifer, are you sane? And you’re only telling me now?!” Chloe jumped from her seat, turning on her computer

“I thought she needed space! I thought she was avoiding me intentionally cause she was angry! I didn’t know…” Lucifer choked back a sob, not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the precinct

“Lucifer!” Chloe caught hold of his hand “I’m gonna find her! I promise you!” A few days later, she did. Well, more like Y/n came to her, in the shape of a pretty little gift box left on Decker's doorstep.

“A lil too late on your case detective” read the note attached to it.

Inside were Y/N’s clothes, all of them stained with dark, dried blood. Y/N was declared dead that day and the case was closed. At her funeral, only her closests friends were present. Lucifer wanted it to be as intimate as possible.

That day was also the first time anyone had seen Lucifer, since the news. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes almost matched the black suit he was wearing. Throughout the ceremony he kept twisting his wedding band, a habit he’d picked up on since you went missing. He chose not to do a speech, but once the crowd disappeared, and he was left face to face with your grave, he pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket and sat down on the grass.

“In hell, everyone feared me. There, I was nothing but another server of the universe, ruling over an empire I never really wanted, because I never had a choice. So eventually I left, thinking anywhere will be better than what I had, and I came to earth.

I ran into you about 2 weeks later, before I really even knew how to behave myself. Before I knew anything about who I really was besides ‘the devil’. I longed to know, grow and discovers different sides of me, where I could be something new, and you gave it to me. You made me who I never thought I could possibly be. You made me a lover. I never thought of myself as capable to love anyone, in any degree, but your light shone everywhere you went and your kindness touched me and everyone around you. It became impossible to not get infatuated with your person. I allowed you to see and feel around every dark corner of my soul and being and every time I thought it was the end. Everytime I would take in your touch as if it was the last, I would prepare myself for abandonment, but it never came. Through everything you stood by my side and when I felt my darkest, you gave me a fistful of your light and that was enough to keep me going. You married a broken man and called him perfect, despite everyone telling you how much of a foul you were. Even then, you shooed them away. Even then you chose me. I wasn’t worthy of your love or your trust and our last night together proved it.

You’re not here anymore to hear my apologies and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You’ve gone now somewhere I can not follow, but I know you are well taken care of there. I hope, someway, somehow, you’ll hear these words: I am sorry. I loved you with my entire soul. Not listening to you was the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll never forgive myself. I choose however, to remember you as you were, because I know that’s what you’d want. I’ll remember you and your laugh.I’ll remember our date nights and shopping sprees. Nights in Lux or on the penthouse balcony. I’ll remember all the meals you prepared for me and the flirtatious remarks you used to make, because you thought they were so silly. I’ll remember the little frown on your face whenever you worked on an important project for work and I’ll remember every evening walk around the block you’d make me accompany you on. I know I always complained about them, but they were always fun. Everything I ever did with you was always fun.

I loved you. I still do. You are my everything Y/N. Thank you for devoting yourself to me in all the ways that you did. I’ll forever live on in my heart.“

~~~

It had been months since your disappearance. After all this time, you finally managed to escape your kidnappers and report them to the New York police station, since that’s where you had been held hostage for so long. As soon as the paperwork was done and you were sure that the people who ruined you were getting the punishment they deserved, you jumped on a train and headed straight back home. Straight to Lucifer.

Lux looked exactly the same as you had left it. You were washed over by a wave of comfort that almost brought you to tears. Home. You never thought you’d get to step in here again. Overwhelmed, you took a seat on one of the couches, allowing your head to rest back on it, as you took in every detail of your surroundings: the feel of the leather on your fingertips, the cool breeze of the air conditioning, the warm lights. Everything was still here.

“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound

“Hi love…” your voice broke as you said those words. Words you never thought you would be able to mutter again. The sight of your husband, messy as he was, made you weak in the knees. He was standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in nothing but his robe, tied carelessly around his waist. He had probably just woken up. You wanted to say something again, but before you could, he laughed

“Nope” he said simply, before making his way down the stairs and to the bar “I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever!” Lucifer filled his glass to the top with bourbon, before turning around and trying to leave back to where he came from

“Lucifer, it's me!”

“Sure you are, except you’re not real! Nice of dad, taking my ability to stay endlessly sober, getting me drunk, forcing visions of my dead wife onto me to teach me another lesson about managing my emotions. Real clever, except this is too much! So I’m going to enter that elevator and I expect to never have to see you again, hum? Right, well, au revoir now!” he continued on his way, but before he could get far, you were clutching on the silk tie of his robe. Lucifer felt the tug around his waist and turned around slowly to look at you, this time a little more unsure. As if he was trying to figure you out

“Lucifer, I’m Y/N. I escaped”

“Escaped? But that’s impossible, she died! I saw it-”

“What you saw was a bloody shirt!” he looked up to meet your gaze, tears already forming “They lied to you Lucifer”

Finally, it seemed like he had connected all of the pieces of the puzzle. The glass of alcohol fell to the ground and your husband wrapped you in a big hug for the first time in months. He nuzzled his head in your hair and took in your scent, your figure, your warmth. Hell, you were even more perfect that he remembered! Silent tears fell down both of your cheeks as you collapsed to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life

“I’m so sorry” Lucifer sobbed in your hair “I’m so so sorry”

“It wasn’t your fault Luci”

“If I hadn’t been a jerk you wouldn’t have left! If I would have simply listened to you, they wouldn’t have gotten to you! You would’ve stayed here, where you belong! You would have stayed with me but instead I was too busy with my stupid job and the stupid cases and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he continued crying on your shoulder as you rubbed small circles on his back

“I’m here now my love” you whispered, kissing his cheek “And I’m not going anywhere”

#lucifer #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar angst #lucifer morningstar

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you-are-my-joy · 4 years ago

Text

The Return of an Empress | 08

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut (Later on), Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: ~9.2k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Masterlist

<< previous chapter | ♡ | next chapter >>

“Here you go, your majesty,” Joy offers you a glass of water before preparing your bed for you to sleep in.

Your eyes soften at the girl, “Thank you Joy,” you gratefully take the water and nearly drink it in one gulp. Absolutely exhausted after everything that has happened.

“Long day?” Joy teases as she takes the now empty glass from your hand.

You let out a long sigh, stretching your arms above your head, “don’t even get me started.” Joy purses her lips, giving you a sad expression as she can see how tired you were, both mentally and physically. She wishes she could help further, but the most she could do is attend to your needs, but honestly, that’s all you really need at the moment.

To say it was a long day would be an absolute understatement as you recall the events that occurred. From the morning of the beheadings, to dealing with reporters, and finally to consoling a crying Yoongi, yup, it was most definitely a very long day.

You close your eyes as you think about your time with Yoongi just a few hours ago.

Yoongi sniffs before pulling away, his red puffy eyes looking at your now damp shoulder, suddenly feeling embarrassed for breaking down right in front of you. But that doesn’t stop him from grabbing hold of your hands, “I’m so sorry for everything, for not being there for you when you need me the most,” his tearful gaze staring straight at you, glossy eyes on the verge of producing more tears.

He continues as he lets out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry for giving up on you,” his voice cracks as a fresh batch of tears begin to form in his eyes.

You give him a soft smile as you reach a hand to wipe away at his tears, “I forgive you,” you whisper softly.

Yoongi closes his eyes, savoring this moment as you caress his cheek gently. “You shouldn’t,” he whispers as he tearfully looks at you with a downcasted look.

However, you two didn’t stay in that position for long as your presence was urgently needed elsewhere when Joy called for you. You remember looking back regretfully towards Yoongi, but he only nods, understanding that you’d be busy with the whole scandal. He ushered you out of the room, gingerly placing his palm to your back. Promising to speak to you privately when the whole ordeal dies down.

And so despite having such a long day, you can’t help but feel like things worked out in the end. You no longer have to deal with Lee Joong-Gu nor do you have to worry about Yoongi. You had always planned to reconcile with Yoongi at some point in the future, but you never imagined it would transpire like that, with the usual cold advisor breaking down his walls and sobbing in your arms. But you can't help but feel like a weight is off your shoulder.

The only thing on your mind now is what’s going to happen when you’re attending the meeting tomorrow. Because for the first time since you’ve arrived in this world, all eight of you would be present in the same room. You’re not sure how that would turn out considering how tense it was when only five men were in the same room. You can only imagine what would occur with all seven, but you try to remain positive, only hoping that the meeting would run as smoothly as possible.

This was probably one of the most awkward things you’ve ever had to sit through.

Here you are, all eight of you sitting around in a circular table in complete silence as you eye the men wearily. Initially it was only just going to be you, Hoseok, and the three advisors, but the three youngest insisted that they attend this meeting as well. And yet, no one has the courage to speak up in front of each other. The only sounds coming from Taehyung’s fingers tapping against the hardwood in a steady beat. Meanwhile the rest of the men fidget in their seats impatiently, avoiding eye contact with one another.

You let out a sigh, unable to handle this any further. Here goes nothing. You clear your throat, immediately gaining everyone’s attention, “Thank you for being here everyone, we have a lot to talk about.”

Hoseok nods his head, crossing his arms, “indeed we do.”

You turn your attention to Namjoon sitting in front of you, “I’m sure you have a list of things to discuss about,” you wave your hand, “take it away,” you lean back in your chair crossing your legs, ready for whatever's about to come.

Namjoon looks down at the countless documents in front of him as he skims through its contents, “we need to first discuss what we plan to do with former Grand Duke Lee Joong-Gu.” Offering you a tentative glance before looking through the documents once more.

You hum, leaning against the arms of your chair, “Who will be inheriting the late grand duke's wealth?” you ask curiously.

“His eldest daughter, Lee Yuri, is the heir,” Namjoon answers without raising his head to look at you.

Suddenly, Jin speaks up, “We should thoroughly investigate her and the rest of the family,” he glares down at the documents as if they were cursed, “his butler turned himself in for knowing about the drugs, who’s to say more people don't know about it either. We should take them away and put them in the dungeons before that happens.” You hear many of the men murmur their agreement to his statement.

You, however, try to avoid eye contact, pretending to busy yourself with looking over the documents, trying not to act suspicious because you know she’s innocent. Despite being a god awful human being, the grand duke truly did love his family and made sure that they never knew about the drugs in hopes of protecting them. If he ever got caught, he didn’t want to bring them down with him. His only decision in life that you agreed on.

You nod, “we will go through with investigating his family.” You didn’t want to, knowing they were innocent, but how could you explain yourself without them thinking you’ve gone crazy.

You raise your head to look around the room, “however, the investigation will commence a week after today.”

Hoseok furrows his eyebrows, “I’m sorry but I have to disagree,” he butts in, “we need to take them into custody just to play safe. What if they hide every evidence of their involvement during that time frame?”

There are none. Is what you want to say. But you know without any proof to back up your claim, they would never believe you.

“They just witnessed the beheading of their father, that’s not something that’s easy to get over. We should give them time to grieve,” you suggest. You watch the rest of the men eye each other wearily, clearly opposed to your idea.

“Their father is a criminal,” Yoongi grinds out with clenched teeth.

“Does that automatically mean they’re criminals as well?” you question with a raised brow.

He crosses his arms as he leans back against his chair, lips pursed with displeasure, “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Just because he was their father doesn’t mean they share the same morals,” you defend.

Jin only sighs, “I understand where you’re coming from, but chances are, they probably knew about it too. We shouldn’t risk anything and take them in,” his tone cold and disapproving.

“Let’s put it this way,” you start, “they’re automatically being labelled as criminals just because they’re his family without any solid evidence,” you furrow your eyes, waving your hand around, “does that sound fair to you?”

The men remain silent, urging you to continue, “You have to also think about what they’re going through. Because not only has their father betrayed the empire, he betrayed them, surely that’s not a good feeling to have. Their family reputation is in shambles because of him all because he chose his greed over his own family,” your voice rising with each passing second.

Hoseok cocks a brow, both surprised and confused over your sudden behavior, “why are you so persistent with this?”

“Because I don’t want to be responsible for-“ their death.

You stop yourself. You got too emotional and nearly almost blurted out something you shouldn’t.

In the sequel to the story, where the Grand Duke finally gets exposed, it’s revealed that not only does he have to pay the price for his crimes, but his family does too. The boys were far too emotional to make any rational decisions due to the scandal. In their fit of anger and need for revenge, they investigated and apprehended every family member of the criminals associated with the drugs, starting with Lee Joong-Gu’s.

They didn’t care that the family was still in the early stages of grief, because to them, they were just the family of the man that ruined their lives.

And for that reason, they didn’t care when they got ridiculed publicly or when their name was absolutely stomped on in the tabloids. Even when they were proven to be innocent, they didn’t do anything to stop the harsh treatment they received from society.

His family never had time to grieve, their emotions bottled up due to all the attention they were receiving. Where the eldest daughter was essentially known as the daughter that killed the late empress, despite her efforts in trying to rebuild their reputation that title followed her everywhere she went.

And when the entire family took their own lives, unable to handle the bankruptcy and excessive bullying, the empire rejoiced. They were innocent, yet their lives were ruined all because they trusted someone who promised to protect them. It wasn’t fair.

“Your majesty?”

You blink, “huh?”

Jimin eyes you in concern, “You didn’t want to be responsible for what?”

You clear your throat, an attempt to compose yourself as you try to to avoid their prying eyes, “I didn’t want to be responsible for ruining people’s lives if they turned out to be innocent.”

Yoongi scowls, clearly against your decision, “You’re being too lenient,” he points at the document angrily, “they could retaliate and avenge their father!”

You suck in a deep breath, calming down as you stare deep into his eyes, “Yoongi do you trust me?”

He stills for a moment, before his eyes soften at this. He hesitates before nodding his head reluctantly, “yes, I do.”

You offer him a weak smile, thankful and surprised he admitted to that so easily, “then please trust in me on this as well,” your pleading eyes boring into his.

Yoongi sighs, before slumping down in his chair in defeat, wanting to avoid conflict after somewhat reconciling with you the day before. He didn’t want to risk causing more tension when you two have a lot more to talk about. So for now, he’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it.

You look around the room, immediately taking note of their displeased expressions, “any objections?”

Suddenly the sound of a chuckle echoes around the room as Hoseok shakes his head, “seeing as how Yoongi hyung wasn’t able to get through you, neither of us have a chance,” he leans on the table with a smirk, “let’s hope her majesty’s judgment is correct.”

You turn your head back to Namjoon, “alright, what’s next on the list.” But before he could utter a word, Jimin suddenly rises to his feet.

“Wait!” he calls out, causing you and many of the other men to jump in surprise, he sends you all a sheepish smile before continuing, “there’s something important I need to say,” you watch as he chews on his bottom lip, lost in deep thought wondering how to explain himself, his expression tight and strained.

You nod your head, giving him permission to speak. He runs his fingers through his hair with shaking hands as he lets out a low chuckle, “I believe now is the time to break my fingers.” He stares at you, shoulders slumped while doing so.

You frown, “Why would I do that?”

“Because I broke our promise,” his head hangs low, unable to look you in the eye, “I wasn’t able to protect you.”

You thought for a moment, tilting your head, “I’m sorry Jimin but can you explain more?”

He nods, straightening his posture, “The night of the ball, after the criminals were apprehended,” he starts before carefully thinking of his next words, “there were spies in the area,” his voice low and tense.

Everyone freezes, as they process what he said. Spies?

“There were spies in the area?” Jin asked, rephrasing the statement into a question as though it were a surprise as he leans on the table.

Just when you thought you had nothing else to worry about, here comes Jimin dropping a huge bomb on all of you. You begin to feel immensely anxious, as this has never occurred in the novel, but seeing how much you've managed to change the story from the original plot, you’re not entirely surprised.

You clear your throat, stomach contracting into a tight ball, “can you please describe what happened?” you know this would only stress you out more, but you needed to know all the details.

Jimin bites his bottom lip, “I was watching the scene from above the dome ceiling, when I saw movement from the corner of my eyes,” he hangs his head low, feeling ashamed over his actions, “I was so immersed in the scene from below that I didn’t do my job correctly and only saw the spy at the last minute.”

He lets out a shaky breath before turning to you, his eyes brimming with tears, “They managed to escape, I’m sorry,” his voice cracking and tight. You want to go and soothe him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move at the sudden stab of anxiety in your gut.

The men stiffen at the sudden revelation, fidgeting in their seat as their eyes dart between everyone’s shocked faces around the circular table.

“It gets worse,” Jimin adds in a low voice causing everyone to snap in his direction.

Jin lets out an exasperated sigh as he rubs his temples, “How could it get any worse than this?”

Jimin gives you all a weak smile, “There was more than one,” he confesses, voice edged with tension.

Taehyung chokes on his own spit, “What do you mean there were more than one?” His voice rose an octave in disbelief.

Jimin’s lip grows thin and firm, he explains to the group how when he was chasing after the person, an onslaught of arrows flew past his head before he could even grab hold of the person’s cloak. Too many arrows at a time to be just one person.

Namjoon groans, already feeling the uncomfortable ache in his head developing beneath his temples as he buries his head in his hands, “I thought once the drugs were dealt with, we’d have nothing major to worry about,” he raises his head, his tired expression showing, “now you’re telling me we have to deal with spies too?”

Taeheyung sighs tiredly, “took the words right out of my mouth,” he turns his head to you, “seems like her majesty has a lot of enemies.”

Truthfully, you knew many people opposed the empress, most of them were nobles who lost their power and authority when she began her reign. And for that reason, you’re unable to deduce the list to one person. You groan, slumping lazily on your seat as you lean against the chair.

Hoseok’s mouth quirk upward, slightly amused at your posture, “could it be an old fling enacting their revenge? How many people have you been with again?” he teases as he leans on the table, an attempt to lighten the mood seeing how stressed you’ve become.

You glare in his direction, not at all in the mood to laugh at any jokes, “mind your own business,” you grumble.

But the man only laughs as he grins back at you, “I’m not sure you’re aware of this, but you are my business, Y/n.”

This especially doesn’t go past Yoongi as his eyes widen by his statement, “Y/n?” he questions in disbelief.

Jin looks up at Yoongi, eyeing his reaction, “her majesty gave Taehyung and Jungkook permission to address her by her name,” he explains, careful not to set the advisor off with his words, but he cocks a brow in Hoseok's direction, “although I was unaware she extended this to Hoseok.” But the said man only shrugs.

You flinch when Yoongi and Jimin whirls their head in your direction, face unreadable as their hardened eyes stare you down. You clear your throat, straightening your posture as you stare at everyone, “well, I was actually planning on extending this to all of you at some point during this meeting,” you send them an uncertain smile, “guess now is as good a time as any.”

Jin raises a brow, “Really?” his disbelief evident in his expression. Though you give him a small smile, nodding your head in confirmation.

Jimin’s breath hitches, “You’ll allow me to call you by your name, despite failing you?”

Your eyes soften in his direction, “Jimin you didn’t fail me, you saw the spies despite how dark it was outside and informed all of us. That’s more than I could ask for from you,” you reach your hand to wrap around his, squeezing it gently, “you did well, thank you,” you send him a reassuring smile.

You see his eyes becoming glossy as he looks away from your stare, sucking in a breath to compose himself before turning back to you. He squeezes your hand in return as the corners of his lips curve upward, more than grateful for your words.

Jungkook, who has been silently listening and observing this entire time, looks up hesitantly, “what do we do now?”

Everyone in the room looks around, unsure of how to answer his question before you clear your throat, “we don’t know if there are more spies in the palace, I think all we can do is keep this to ourselves for now and just observe our surroundings more closely,” you suggest, watching as the rest of the men nod in agreement.

“This is why you’re the empress,” Taehyung yawns as he stretches his arms above his head, feeling a lot more relaxed as compared to how he was just moments before.

Just then, Jimin stands up, gently pulling on your joined hands for you to rise on your feet as well. “I think that’ll be enough for today.” You watch as Jungkook and Taehyung stand up as well, preparing to leave.

Namjoon shifts in his seat as he stares at them incredulously, “We’re not done!” waving frantically at the countless documents on the table.

“I understand but there was a lot to process during this meeting,” Taehyung states, then points at you, “I personally believe her majesty should let off some steam.”

Instead of giving a snarky reply, Namjoon only groans as he waves you all off. Taehyung quirks a brow, “You surprisingly gave up a lot sooner than I expected.”

But the advisor just lets out a sigh as he gives him a bored expression, “it’s not like you’re going to listen to me no matter what I say, and frankly, I don’t have the energy left in me to make you all stay.” You can tell he was being serious as he stares at you all in a tired manner. Surprisingly, the rest of the men had similar expressions, you had thought Yoongi or Jin would put in their two cents, but contrary to what you expected, they remained silent.

Taehyung winks, “glad we’re on the same page,” he salutes goodbye to the older males, “if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be taking our leave,” he moves to grab hold of your other hand as he begins to lead you three out the door.

You tilt your head, you let them lead you out the room despite being confused over the situation, “What are we doing?”

Taehyung doesn’t turn around, but you can tell he’s smirking, “I was thinking we should do some training,” he starts, “seeing as how there’s spies we gotta worry about now.”

Your eyes widen as you stare at the back of his head, “We?”

You hear Jungkook snicker from beside you as he throws an arm around your shoulder lazily, “Yes, we are going to train.” His grin grew wider at the sight of your horrified expression.

Please have mercy on my soul.

You didn’t realize Taehyung was actually being serious about the whole training session, not until he ushered you into your bedroom calling for Joy to gather a change of lighter clothes that allows you to move more freely. And now here you are in the palace courtyard, absolutely dreading what was about to come.

“Alright, who's going up against our dear empress,” Jimin claps his hands excitedly.

In the next second, Jungkook raises his hand in the air, as Taehyung laughs and pats his shoulder, “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a volunteer.” Jungkook winks at you and you do your best to smile back at him, but if anything it came out more of a grimace.

“I’m betting on Y/n,” Jimin suddenly calls out before pointing at Taehyung, “you’re stuck with supporting Jungkook.”

Taehyung stops walking as he furrows his eyes, “No fair! I had my bets set on Y/n from the beginning!” He whines loudly.

Jungkok scoffs from beside you, carrying two wooden swords in his hands, “Should I be offended that none of you believe in me?”

But Taehyung just shrugs his shoulders, “You’re going up against the empress herself, can you really blame us?”

“Fair enough,” Jungkook grumbles, almost as if he was already admitting defeat as he hands you your sword.

You chuckle nervously, your palms beginning to sweat as you grip on the handle of the sword tightly, “I’m afraid you’re giving me far too much credit,” you joke to hide the fact that you were absolutely terrified when the sparring began. In any other situation, you would be drooling over Jungkook’s biceps, but at the moment, you can’t help but shiver in fear knowing he was strong enough to crush you in a second. At this point you’re desperately praying for muscle memory to finally come to your rescue.

Taehyung huffs, “fine, I’ll place my bets on Jungkook,” he grumbles at last, clearly upset over his current situation.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Gee thanks,” he replies sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware we were even betting money on this.”

Jimin smirks as he shrugs, “makes things more interesting, y’know.”

Taehyung whips his head, staring at him incredulously, “Yeah for you! You’re betting on Y/n. You practically win by default!” Taehyung snaps before raising his palm in Jungkook’s direction, “No offense Jungkookie.”

“None taken.”

You shake your head, no longer fazed by their childish banters at this point, “How much are you even betting on,” raising a container, similar to a water bottle, up to your lips.

“50 gold coins.”

You spit out your drink, “50 gold coins?” you cough. During your first few days, you were curious to know the value of those gold coins, so you did a little research in the library. Apparently 1 gold coin was enough to feed an entire village for a month. Now they’re betting 50? “Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive for a measly bet?” your eyes widen as you switch between Jimin and Taehyung.

Taehyung nods as he takes your side immediately, “I agree 100% with Y/n.”

Jimin only rolls his eyes, “You’re only saying that because you’re betting on Jungkook,” he points accusingly.

“And you’re only happy about that cause you’re betting on Y/n!” He snaps right back at him.

Jimin pauses, “Well… I can’t argue with that.”

“See!”

Just then, Jungkook turns to you with a mischievous smile.

Oh no.

“Why don’t we make this even more interesting,” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows in your direction.

You raise a brow, “I’m listening.” You know nothing good could come out of this, especially at the way he was looking at you.

He smirks, “why don’t we have a bet of our own. Loser fulfils one wish from the winner.”

You hum, before turning your attention to Jimin. “Team meeting,” you call out, gesturing to him to come to you.

Jimin raises a brow before laughing, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you huddle in your own ‘private’ space.

“This bet seems kinda risky. You think I should accept it?”

Jimin nods his head seriously, “Of course. I wouldn’t have made a bet on you if I didn’t believe in you completely,” he scoffs before pointing behind him, “I mean look at the kid, does he really look like a hard person to beat?”

You nod, turning your head to eye him down, playing along with him, “You’re right, looking closer he’s really not all that.”

“Guys I can still hear you.”

Jimin waves him off, “Ignore him, anyway I think you should take him up on this offer.”

“Got it. Alright, good discussion.” You two break apart as you look at the now glaring knight. “We’ve come to a conclusion, Jeon Jungkook, I accept this bet.” You stick your hand out, he smirks before you’re both shaking hands in agreement.

You turn to look at Jimin as he gives you a thumbs up with a wide reassuring smile - your very own cheerleader.

You turn your attention back to Jungkook, only for your eyes to widen into saucers when his abs make a sudden appearance. You were definitely not mentally prepared for this as the author never mentioned anything about articles of clothing being removed during training. Jungkook, having noticed your ogling winks at you, “try not to drool too much.”

You only roll your eyes, turning away, embarrassed you were caught staring, “not much to drool over.” Oh who were you kidding, his body was practically sculpted by the gods. And you're sure he knows this too, based on his reaction.

Instead of getting snarky or offended at your words, he only shakes his head with a low chuckle before smirking back at you.

Alright. You admit. That was kinda hot.

You gulp nervously as he begins to stretch, his muscles flexing with every movement. At this point you just hope you make it out alive.

“Showoff,” Jimin exclaims loudly, now sitting on a nearby bench on the side.

Jungkook smirks, “no need to be jealous hyung.” Making a show to flex his muscles even more in ridiculous poses.

Jimin only rolls his eyes before turning his attention back to you, “Y/n, do me a favor and beat his ass.”

You let out a chuckle, “I’ll do my best.”

At this point, you four caught the attention of many passing knights and maids who were initially confused and curious about what was going on. But once they caught on to what was happening, many are now conveniently standing at a distance, pretending to do work when in reality they were anticipating this match just as much as Jimin and Taehyung.

Jungkook smirks up at you, “Ready to feel defeat?” A glint in his eyes screaming trouble.

You let out a huff of air as you stretch your arms and legs, “I’d like to see you try.”

“What should we do regarding the rebellion?”

After the meeting, the three advisors stayed behind after you were seemingly dragged out by the younger boys out the room. Hoseok had to leave soon after as he needed to go do his daily routine of checking up on the knights training. And so that only left the three advisors to their own thoughts.

“Well isn’t it obvious, we step down,” Namjoon states confidently. The three men grow silent as they take in the immense weight that statement holds. The realization that the rebellion that they’ve all planned meticulously for almost a year now, is about to come to an end. They knew stepping down meant finally admitting that the empress has returned and was no longer the tyrant they all detested.

Jin looks around the room wearily, “let’s not speak here, we can talk about it another time,” he whispers. Although the room was quiet and desolate, he didn’t want to take any chances of anyone eavesdropping on their conversation. Especially if it was in regards to the rebellion now that spies were suddenly a problem, “And besides, Hoseok’s not here, we need to know where he stands in all this as well.”

Namjoon nods his head understandingly, “I agree, I think all we can do now, is be careful of our surroundings and wait until we’re in a safe private area to discuss further.” All three men rise to their feet, collecting the documents before heading out the door.

“You know hyung,” Namjoon starts, eyeing Yoongi as they walk down the halls, “I’m glad to hear that you reconciled with Y/n yesterday.”

“Hoseok told us everything this morning,” Jin clarifies.

Yoongi hums, not looking at either men in the eye, “I wouldn’t necessarily say we reconciled completely as there’s still a lot to talk about.”

“Let’s hope that once all this get settled, we’ll all have time to properly speak to each other, I believe we all owe her that much,” Jin clutches the documents in his hands as his eyes narrow down at them, a painful reminder of their mistreatment towards the empress when she was being taken advantage of. Namjoon and Yoongi nod sadly, too ashamed of their past actions to look each other in the eye as a wave of guilt washes over all three of them.

But they don’t dwell on that feeling for long when suddenly a small group of maids and knights shuffles quickly right past them, many buzzing with excitement as they make their way to what seemed like the direction of the courtyard.

All three men turn to face one another, immensely confused over the situation especially when they see more palace staff rushing past them. Curiosity got the best of them before they too began to follow the crowd.

They could almost hear distant cheering as they followed the small group. The closer they got the louder the cheers became. When they rounded the corner, they were surprised to find a crowd of maids and knights huddled around the many windows that were now opened.

And they were especially surprised to find Hoseok being among the bunch. He notices the advisors immediately and waves them over, “C’mon you’re gonna miss the show!” Using his General privileges, he managed to snag his own window to himself to watch the show.

Namjoon raises a brow as he approaches the general, “Thought you had to go observe the knights?”

Hoseok chuckles, “I am,” he states as a matter of factly as he points around the area, “they’re all here.” Well they couldn’t deny that as it almost did seem as though every person present in the palace was at attendance. They wouldn’t be surprised if that actually was the case.

Yoongi winces at the loud cheers around him, “What’s going on?” They were even more confused than ever before as the palace has never been this active in all their years of staying there.

Instead of responding, Hoseok only smiles and nods his head at the window. They all turn and simultaneously widen their eyes at the sight before them.

Jin lurches forward against the open window, “Is that her majesty?!” his eyes bulging out from their sockets at the way you and Jungkook fought, flinching at an especially hard blow that Jungkook gives you, only for you to retaliate with your foot against his face, “They’re going too hard on each other!” he then snaps his head to Hoseok, “Whose idea was-”

“HIT HIM WITH THE OLD ONE TWO, Y/N!” Jimin cheers loudly, standing on the bench, throwing punches in the air.

“C’MON JUNGKOOK DON’T FUCKING EMBARRASS ME! I’M RISKING A LOT OF MONEY FOR SUPPORTING YOU!” Taehyung yells on the side, standing on the bench as well.

Jin deadpans, “Why do I get this feeling like I already know the answer to this question.”

Hoseok bellows loudly, “Because you probably do,” he pats his shoulder, “just enjoy the show hyung, Jungkook and Y/n aren’t going nearly as hard on each other as they would normally do in a real fight.”

Namjoon nods as he leans against the window frame, “He’s right, believe it or not, they’re actually holding themselves back at the moment.” Jin sighs in defeat as he relents and faces the window, desperately hoping this whole thing would end soon.

A shaky breath escapes your lips, as Jungkook breathes heavily from across you. You were surprisingly holding yourself really well against the significantly larger knight, extremely thankful to see muscle memory coming into play as it almost seemed like your body moved on its own. And as a result, it was an exhilarating match between the empress and one of the strongest knights in the empire.

Loud cheers catch your attention as there is now a large group of guards and maids crowding around the area to watch the spectacle, while some maids and knights had a nice view from above through the open windows in the palace. It wasn’t every day they got to see the empress fighting, so they were definitely not going to waste this opportunity.

Jungkook wipes sweat off his forehead, the action catching your eye immediately, “Seems like her majesty is a crowd favorite.”

You chuckle back at him, “Probably cause they know I’m gonna win,” you tease with a wink. You know you’re probably an equally sweaty mess as well but neither one of you seem to mind in the slightest.

Jungkook doesn’t back down as you see a slight smirk forming on his lips, “Don’t get too cocky now Y/n, I was going easy on you earlier,” he readies his stance, “Now, it’s the real deal.” As if proving his statement, he suddenly lunges forward with his wooden sword.

Miraculously, you managed to dodge his attack as you swiftly duck down and move to the side. This catches Jungkook off guard as he had expected you to block his attack at hand, not move away. You take advantage of this as you swing your legs against the back of his knees, causing the knight to stumble forward as he attempts to regain his posture. But you don’t allow him a second to breathe as you continue your attack by kicking his back, causing him to completely lose his balance and fall onto the ground.

You hear multiple people squeal in delight over the move, especially the two loudest in the vicinity.

“OH YEAH THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT!” Jimin cheers with his fists in the air. High-fiving a random knight who was equally as thrilled as him.

Meanwhile Taehyung was pulling at his hairs in frustration, “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT JUNGKOOK? A COMPLETE DISAPPOINTMENT THAT’S WHAT!”

Jungkook rolls on his back and impressively kicks his feet in the air until he’s back standing. He whirls around to face Taehyung angrily, “You call that supporting?!”

“Kinda hard to support you when she’s clearly kicking your ass!” Taehyung snaps back at him.

Jungkook turns his head around to face you when he hears you giggle, a faint smile on your face as your eyes lock onto one another. He raises a brow, “Her majesty thinks this is funny?”

“Hilarious actually,” you smirk.

This time, it was you who made the first move, you lunged with your wooden sword, swinging it in the air aiming for his chest. Jungkook blocked this with ease, grunting as he roughly pushes you off him, only to give a swing of his own in your direction.

Sucking in a breath, you quickly take a step further behind you, arching your back slightly, just barely dodging the tip of his sword before ducking down and swinging your sword from below.

But this practically does nothing either as Jungkook dodges your attack as well.

The two of you go at it for some time, neither one of you submitting to the other. There was no denying that Jungkook was an extremely talented knight. With the way his calculating eyes analyze your every move, almost predicting what your next attack would be, made it easy for him to defend himself.

But the same could be said about you. You managed to defend yourself surprisingly well. Even having the strength to counter his attacks. A testimony to how the empress gained her position.

Jungkook had long since lost his smirk as his narrowed eyes bore into you, now giving his full concentration in the fight. And with that he steps forward, you get ready to counter his attack, but instead of going for you, he aims his attack at your sword. And before you know it, your sword is thrusted into the air as Jungkook uses all his force for you to lose your grip.

You widen your eyes as you look at the now smug knight before you. You raise a brow. So that’s how you wanna be? You smirk, two can play at that game.

In the next second, Jungkook swings his sword with precision, but you weren’t going to let him take advantage of you, so instead of dodging his attack, you eye the sword's movement and as if everything moved in slow motion, you somehow catch the wooden object right in between your hands.

Jungkook widens his eyes in disbelief. You take advantage of his momentary shock when you twist and throw his own sword to the side with ease.

“If I can’t have my sword then neither can you.”

Jungkook chuckles as he clenches his fist, “fair enough.” He rolls his head, “I always did prefer hand-to-hand combat anyway,” and with that he takes a step back, before bringing his foot in the air aiming for your side. You dodge his attack, and retaliate with your own.

The crowd watches with bated breaths as you two were a perfect match. Where Jungkook excelled in strength, you excelled in skill and swiftness. With his muscles, Jungkook could easily overpower you, but your nimble feet somehow managed to move before he could lay his hands on you, much to his annoyance.

“Stay still,” he says with gritted teeth, a drop of sweat falling down his face.

You let out a tired breath, “never,” you wheeze out, weaving your way out of his reach, successfully dodging his attack once more.

You take a step forward, and with clenched fists you throw a punch aimed towards his stomach, but Jungkook catches your wrist and pulls you forward before turning your body around, wrapping his arms around your shoulder. His biceps successfully caging you in, rendering you motionless.

“BOO HISS,” Jimin exclaims loudly, clearly not a fan of your current predicament.

Taehyung only swats him away, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence over his friend, “C’MON JUNGKOOKIE!”

You feel his bare body pressed against your back as he tightens his hold. His head lowering until you feel his ragged breathing by your ear, “Ready to admit defeat my dear empress?” he whispers lowly causing shivers down your spine. You suck in a breath. Focus Y/n, now is not the time to fangirl.

You look down before smirking, “That would imply that you’ve beaten me, so no,” as disgusting as it sounds, your bodies covered in sweat allowed you to escape his viper-like grip by seemingly sliding out of his grasp. And in one swift movement, you turn your body to face him. He attempts to bring you back by grabbing your forearm, jerking you forward, but you use that momentum to your advantage by raising your knee towards his abdomen.

Jungkook grunts upon impact as he stumbles backwards, you move to kick at his chest, but he catches your ankle mid-air and twists it, careful enough as to not sprain your ankle, but enough force to cause you to lose your balance.

Your breath hitches as you suddenly find yourself laying flat on the ground. Jungkook, having composed himself after your hard blow, lunges forward, you roll away, successfully dodging his feet. But from your position on the ground, you widen your eyes as you notice something laying right beside your head.

Though you don’t have much time to think when suddenly you feel a weight over you as Jungkook roughly turns you around and is now practically on top of you. His legs caging you in like an animal. Looking up, you find that he’s grabbed hold of his fallen sword and is now swinging it in circles calmly from above you.

He smirks triumphantly, “Not going to lie, this is a very nice view,” he snickers as you glare up at him, “any last words before I win?” However, he stops short when he notices a smile forming on your lips. “What?”

You giggle mockingly, “you talk too much,” this time it’s your turn to smirk.

He furrows his brows until he feels something sharp poking him. Looking down, he’s shocked to find that you had managed to retrieve your wooden sword. Which, by sheer luck, was laying right beside your head on the ground and is now pointed directly at his stomach. In a real life scenario Jungkook would’ve died.

And for that reason, you won.

Jimin is seen laughing his ass off as he too realized that the winner in this intense match was indeed you. While Taehyung looks absolutely miserable right beside him as he slumps down in defeat. The two friends expressing a wave of emotions, contrasting one another.

The crowd around you cheers loudly, the sound deafening as if the entire empire were present to watch the spectacle.

Jungkook lets out a low chuckle as he finally admits defeat, “I should’ve known better than to think it would be that easy to beat you,” he states before looking down at you, “but no matter what it seems I can never outsmart her majesty.”

You wink up at him, “better luck next time Jungkookie.” He only smiles softly down at you.

But it’s only now do you realize the position you both were in. His body straddling yours, with his abs on full display right in front of you. You feel blood rush up to your cheeks at his almost predatory gaze, that you can’t handle it and turn your head away from the man on top of you.

You swear you could see him smirk from the corner of your eyes before he shakes head and stands up. He offers you his hand, to which you gratefully reach for before he pulls you up to your feet.

“I can’t believe you lost,” Taehyung whines as both he and Jimin begin to approach the two of you. You giggle at how disheveled Taehyung looked, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was the one fighting instead of Jungkook. You can only imagine the thoughts going through his mind with his stress level rising with each passing second.

Though Jimin grins widely as he runs up to you with open arms. You widen your eyes, raising your arms in front of you, “W-Wait Jimin I’m sweaty,” but the boy doesn’t mind as he wraps his arms around your waist and twirls you around.

Jimin laughs, “I knew you could do it!”

You giggle, the sound causing his heart to skip a beat. He widens his grin, finally putting you back down on the ground as he stares at you feeling proud.

You beam back at him, “Thank you for believing in me,” you say sincerely.

His eyes soften as he smiles at you adoringly, “Always.”

“I would just like to clarify I believed in you as well,” Taehyung suddenly butts in, but Jimin pays him no mind as he waves him off.

Just then you suddenly hear clapping, turning around and you find Yoongi slowly approaching you four along with Namjoon, Jin and Hoseok trailing not too far behind him. Despite his calm demeanor, you can tell at closer inspection that he was fighting off a proud smile.

“Good job,” he finally speaks up when he reaches you. Your eyes widen, stunned before looking at his face, trying to confirm if what you heard was right. His cheeks glowing a tint of red when you don’t say anything.

You grin at his sudden timidness, “thank you.” He nods before turning his head, suddenly feeling too shy to look you in the eye. But you don’t comment any more, more than grateful to see him making an effort to act nice.

The three older men finally join the rest of you. Jin lets out a sigh as he eyes both of your bodies being littered with bruises, “now did you two have to go that hard for you to get harmed like this?”

Yoongi scoffs just then, rolling his eyes, “oh quit your nagging old man, they look fine to me.”

Jin lets out an offended noise as he snaps his head to look at him in disbelief, “old man?! Now you listen here-“

Hoseok shoves his way between the older males, successfully silencing the both of them as he grins at you, “that was an amazing show your majesty!” he grins, “when you’re up for it, I want a turn next,” he winks.

You let out a tired chuckle, “It would be an honor to go up against the great Jung Hoseok.” You two smile at each other, you know he was joking, but you can tell there was some truth to his statement.

“Drinks on Taehyung!” Jimin suddenly announces with a wide grin.

The said knight whirls around with comical wide eyes, “That wasn’t part of the deal!”

Jimin laughs tauntingly, “No, the bet was you give me 50 gold coins. And I’m going to use that amount to give everyone here a drink. Let’s party!” he pumps his fist in the air excitedly.

“Shouldn’t you ask Y/n for permission to hold a celebration,” you stifle a giggle at the way Taehyung’s pleading eyes meet yours. You can practically see his body language begging you to listen to his pleas.

But if you’re going to be honest, with everything that’s happened, a moment to let loose and have fun was exactly what you needed. And you’re sure this is something everyone else would appreciate as well. And not to mention, your body being all bruised up was thanks to Taehyung’s brilliant idea to spar. So with that in mind, you give Taehyung a playful wink, turning to the crowd, “Drinks on Sir Taehyung tonight!”

Suddenly a second wave of cheers surround the area that you begin to think even the neighboring kingdoms could hear you.

Taehyung’s jaw drops as the cheers around you seemingly grow louder. The rest of the boys were amused by the whole situation in front of them, reveling in seeing the usual cocky knight get beaten in seconds by one sentence coming out your mouth.

“50 gold coins is nothing,” Yoongi hums, crossing his arms.

Taehyung presses his lips together, narrowing his eyes into thin slits, “A knight's salary is drastically different to the empress’s advisors.”

But the older male shrugs his shoulders with a slight closed-lipped smile, “You’ll be fine. Thanks for the drinks,” he teases, his grin growing even wider at the young knight's apparent annoyed expression.

Namjoon eyes the bruises on your skin in concern, “I believe you should go off to the royal physician before anything else. I can’t have our empress showing up in bruises for everyone to see.”

Jungkook scoffs, “And what about me?”

“What about you?” Namjoon questions with a bored expression.

“I got all bruised up as well! Her majesty isn’t an easy opponent, you know?” as if to prove his point, he makes a show to dramatically point at every bruise, big or small, that you inflicted on him, “Am I not a priority either?”

Namjoon clicks his tongue in displeasure, “you are, but the empress’s health is more important than anything else, don’t you agree?” he asks with a raised brow, as if daring him to challenge his statement.

But Jungkook relents, not having it in him to deny his claim as he agreed to it wholeheartedly. Because to him, you were more important than anything in the world. But Jungkook, being as petty as he is, refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right. So instead he grumbles incoherently under his breath, but you swear you heard him mutter “dickhead” at some point in his rambling.

You laugh loudly, immediately catching the attention of the men around you, their mood instantly brightening as they smile widely staring at you in adoration.

This interaction surely doesn’t go unnoticed by the multiple pairs of eyes around you, as many maids swoon over the scene before them. The empress was surrounded by the seven men who were closest to her. They didn’t think it was possible to see them all together again but here you eight are, laughing and teasing as you’re all in your own little world, proving them all wrong.

“For the record, I let you win,” Jungkook grumbles, pointing a finger towards you as you walk down the halls. After the crowd had dispersed, Namjoon and especially Jin had insisted you both visit the royal physician, neither man was going to take no for an answer, that much you could tell based on their stern expressions and posture.

So here you are, standing beside Jungkook on your way to get your bruises treated. You can only imagine the look on the poor physician’s face when you two enter with sheepish grins.

You giggle, “sure, just keep telling yourself that,” you tease as you nudge his arm.

“It’s true,” he pouts childishly.

“Then how do you explain all the other times you’ve been beaten by the empress, hmm?” You can’t help but tease him, especially when he was acting all high and mighty moments before the fight.

Jungkook only rolls his eyes, “That’s cause i was being a gentleman who just wanted to make you happy.”

You scoff at his lame excuse, playfully pointing at a bruise slowly turning purple on your arm, “you call this being a gentleman?” But you regret saying that statement immediately at the crestfallen look on his face.

His eyes droop as he slowly reaches a hand and gingerly holds your arm in front of him, inspecting the bruises gently, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he utters softly, feeling immensely apologetic, “I just got way too competitive back there.”

You shake your head, smiling it off, “Jungkook I was joking please don’t worry. I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to this. If anything I think I should apologize to you for giving you this monstrosity.” You reach your hand out to gently soothe a rather large bruise on his abdomen in the area you kneed him. Jungkook freezes at your touch, gulping nervously when you caress the bruise absentmindedly.

Jungkook turns away in hopes of hiding his growing blush, “It’s really fine Y/n. I’ve been inflicted with far worse bruises before, this is nothing.” He insists calmly, a stark contrast to his racing thoughts.

You let out a sigh of relief, “that’s reassuring.” You take your hand away much to Jungkook’s disappointment.

He clears his throat, “Well since you won,” he playfully gags before laughing when you nudge at his shoulder, “what do you wish for?”

You hum, only now recalling your small little bet from earlier, “Not sure,” you turn to him, “If you had won, what would have been your wish?” You were curious, he seemed to have been fighting with all his might that you were wondering what his wish was for him to exert so much effort.

Jungkook stills, as if contemplating whether he should reveal his desires to you or not. You stop walking at the same time he did, now looking at him curiously. And after a few moments of thinking he made up his mind and turned to you. You suddenly feel anxious at his intense gaze. He still hasn’t said anything so you tilt your head, “Jungkook?” He blinks, “what was your wish?”

“I would’ve asked if I could kiss you.”

...

...What?

In an instant your eyes widen into saucers, in complete disbelief that he would actually confess to that. Neither one of you having the courage to speak as you just silently stare at one another.

He held your gaze, but he was slowly losing his confidence the longer you maintained eye contact. His ears turning a bright red as he’s slowly coming to the realization that yes, he indeed just blurted out his feelings like that.

He hastily turns away, “I-I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me.” And he wasn’t lying, because he too wasn’t sure why he said what he said. In all his years of knowing the empress, never once did he harbor such romantic feelings for her as he looked up to her as one would to a sister. But for some strange reason, this past month he’s been looking at her in a different light. And he honestly has no idea why. Why was he feeling this way after knowing the empress for so long. What changed in the past month for this to happen?

“Do you want to hear my wish?” You finally speak up softly.

Jungkook, though still blushing, nods his head, unable to meet your eyes.

You give him a small smile, “My wish was to make you happy,” you turn to look away when he snaps his head in your direction, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “I know how you get when you lose, so I figured I could use my wish to make you happy. Because your happiness is also my happiness, Jungkook.”

You fidget with your hands as you continue, “So if you want me to fulfill your wish then I will.” At this point, you just wanted to dig yourself a hole and swan dive right into it. You can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth but it’s too late. You said it and now you can’t take it back.

When he remains silent, face unreadable, you begin to stammer nervously, “b-but you don’t have to of course. There’s plenty of other things you could wish for if you-”

But you don’t get to finish your sentence as in the next second, you hear fast footsteps approaching, you raise your head only to suddenly feel a strong grip on your arms pulling you forward until soft pairs of lips land on yours.

You freeze at the sudden realization.

Jungkook just kissed you.

A/N: Hey! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I feel like we had a lot of drama in the past few chapters. I wanted to have a slightly more light-hearted chapter so here it is!

Haha were you guys expecting Jungkook to be the first one to be kissed? Cause I initially had another member in mind, but ideas always change with me lol

Feel free to let me know what you guys think!

And as always, thanks so much for reading and hope you all have a wonderful day! 🥰

Tagslist: (those in bold, I’m not sure if it worked for you, I’m really sorry, I’m not sure how to fix it) (I also apologize if I forgot to add someone, just comment again and I promise to add you in the next one!!)

@reallysparklychaos, @unknownsageking, @casspirit0705, @fangirl125reader, @silscintilla, @serefara29, @chimtaesty-main, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @diamonddia-mond, @vishakhas-world, @purelyecstacy, @resticou, @woopetals, @magicsweetener, @splaterparty0-0, @daydreambrliever, @strangeobjectmaker, @luna-xial, @m0chilattae, @celaenaelentiyavox, @lindsayjoy444, @layzfeelit, @kimsaerom, @songtiddies, @untamedgrape, @sonnymii, @moonssuga, @kassandravictoria, @galaxyflab, @blank-et-noir, @nynhope , @midnight1199, @yessii-i, @protontippens, @gguktings, @borahebangtan, @katkrusade, @handsupanddropthepotato, @missseoulite, @cellula-staminale, @red-bow-tie3, @whateveritis616, @ggukkieland, @sbroces, @nnessworls, @yoonieebear, @ssols, @totallynoanalien, @kaithezaftig, @seok-jinnies, @just-me-and-myselfs, @writingdust

#poly bts #poly!bts #bts au #bts fanfic #isekai #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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stetervault · 3 years ago

Note

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

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animeomegas · 3 years ago

Note

Hm... headcanon...

Spoilers for Mystic Messenger (I don't really remember much but don't take risks if you don't wanna get spoiled) and this might disturb some.

How about we talk about V a little. Since I have a thing for angst, I kinda believe that V got pregnant from Rika and gave birth to a unhealthy pup after Rika passed away (and pup followed alpha shortly cuz of it's health) .Depression , unhealthy eating habits, mourning and stress could be reasons for it. That's why V is so overwhelmingly protective of his alpha before and after the labour and that could cause him to neglect his pup(s) unintentionally since his brain might let him think that his pup from Rika died because of missing alpha and if he keeps his alpha away from danger his pup(s) is going to be alright.

(Hmm, I can’t remember a route where Rika dies in canon, but let’s say she dies for real in the beginning of the game, rather than faking her death and creating Mint Eye.)

This gets a little dark fyi

So, Rika sadly kills herself, leaving her pregnant mate, V, behind.

V is obviously distraught. He completely shuts down and doesn’t let anyone help him, isolating himself as much as possible the second the funeral is over.

V doesn’t eat, he doesn’t bathe, he doesn’t talk to anyone, he just sleeps as much as he can until his head is pounding from oversleeping.

And all the stress and lack of looking after himself just piles up and up until he goes into an early labour.

His pup only lives for two minutes.

And V has lost everything.

He thinks it’s his fault. He didn’t look after his mate well enough, and so they died, and then his pup died because his mate wasn’t with him. Everything would have been fine if he had just done what a mate is supposed to do and look after his partner.

The only thing that keeps him alive is his belief that he deserves to suffer for what he did. (Of course, it wasn’t his fault, but V refuses to believe that whenever anyone says that to him.)

A few years pass, and the other member of the RFA decide to hire someone new to liven up the group and help kick everything into gear and start preserving Rika’s legacy.

And V doesn’t expect to like love this new party co-ordinator as much as he does. They squirm their way past all his defences and settle themselves quite comfortably in his heart.

This new alpha teaches him how to love again. How to love someone else of course, but also how to love himself.

But V never tells them about the pup he lost, and the RFA are far too respectful to bring it up. So, his alpha doesn’t know.

And V gets pregnant again, and he’s terrified, but he’s also determined that this time will be different.

He watches his alpha like a hawk, following them everywhere and always offering them someone to talk to if they need it. He counts the time between his pup’s movements religiously to make sure that they’re okay. He won’t go anywhere dangerous or eat anything he’s not supposed to.

It borderlines on neurotic.

V’s alpha is obviously concerned about his behaviour and brings it up in a conversation with Yoosung. And Yoosung says, “Well, you know, after what happened, it makes sense.”

And V’s alpha is like… What happened???

And Yoosung apologises and swiftly nopes out of that conversation as fast as he can. Because he thought they knew?! But obviously not, how awkward.

V’s alpha confronts V, asking him what Yoosung was talking about, that evening when they are both relaxing together by the fireplace.

…

V tenses immediately at your question. He couldn’t tell you. It was bad enough that you knew about his failure to keep Rika alive, but he couldn’t let you know how much of a useless omega he was. You would leave him if you knew, and then he would have to repeat the worst period of his life all over again.

“I’m not sure what he was talking about. You know Yoosung, he gets worked up over the smallest things sometimes.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Don’t lie to me, Jihyun.”

Their voice, while not unkind, sent unpleasant shivers down his spine.

“No, really, there isn’t anything for you to-“

“Stop it,” you order softly. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s one thing, but I hope you respect me enough not to lie to me about something so obviously important.”

V can feel his heart rate picking up. He’s ruining it again. He can’t go through with it again, he wouldn’t survive. He needs to make sure they don’t leave him. He can’t-

“Jihyun?” you call but he can’t respond. “Jihyun, it’s okay, whatever it is, we’ll sort it out, don’t panic.”

“I killed my first pup,” Jihyun sobs suddenly, desperately wishing he could throw himself into your arms for some comfort, but being too scared to endure the rejection he’d surely face. So, instead, he wraps his arms around himself as he cries.

His cries are heartbreaking, and he starts to choke on whines as they bubble up too. V can’t decide if he’s about to be sick, or if he’s just choking.

But a pair of arms wrap themselves around him, and his mind clears somewhat. He knows that you are probably just going to reject him later, but V can’t help but lean into the comfort.

“Calm down, Jihyun, tell me what’s going on, baby,” you soothe him, brushing his hair back from his face. “What do you mean?”

“I killed them,” V states again, trying to will his alpha into understanding how evil and pathetic he is, so that they’ll just leave and get it over with.

“How?”

“They were sick because I couldn’t save Rika!” V sobs. “It’s all my fault!”

His alpha simply picks him up and settles him into his arms with a mumbled ‘I thought it’d be something like that’, that V doesn’t understand. But they’re not rejecting him, maybe they’ll stay and keep the pup safe. But he needs to make sure.

“Don’t leave, please, I’ll do anything! Please…”

“Shh,” you whisper to him. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

#mystic messenger #v #omega v #jihyun #v x reader #reader insert #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha!reader #gn reader #pregnancy #tw: miscarriage #tw:infant death

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stylistiquements · 4 years ago

Text

The Sorcerer pt. 1

Corpse Husband x gn!reader

Reincarnation AU | Summary :

The same candle lights up on Corpse’s desk every time you are reborn and turn 23. He has been looking for you during centuries but this time you might be closer than anticipated. {Playlist}

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

You’re about to blow your 23rd candles and Corpse is about to experience the consequences of it. Somehow, something about your rebirth is different this time.

☾ Words : 6009.

☾ Warnings : angst, mention of death (only suggested and not specific), grieving, swearing

Masterlist | Next

What does it mean to be a sorcerer in 2021? Corpse wonders as he chooses an outfit for his black bean character, lightly tapping his fingers in a crafted rhythm against his dark wooden desk. Nothing, really. The modern days turned his kind into a groundless concept, legendary creatures at best and it’s truly a shame when you think about it.

“Alright, are you ready?” Corpse asks as he moves his mouse above the “start” button and projects everyone into a new round.

“I won’t forgive you like I did last round,” Karl warns Corpse, dash of amusement in his tone.

“Sure,” he scoffs and the devious ghost of a smile shines on his lips when the bloody word “imposter” appears above his virtual pink cat hat.

Sorcerers used to be the rulers of this world and the most famous of well-hidden secrets; no one talked about it yet everyone knew. You just had to be here, respect and adoration followed their every move. People from all horizons went out of their way to meet them in hope of witnessing a miracle.

Oh, how the tables have turned now. They didn’t have to hide their face back then and it all went the harmonious way until a certain day when their fate met a tragic outcome. The day when life took a turn for the hidden.

Corpse is somehow retired now. Maybe that’s why he started doing youtube in the first place; because the craving of being needed had to be fulfilled one way or another. Or maybe because the thrill of life has been gone for so long he had to try everything to fill the void in hope of feeling a drip of something again. The weariness of a mere life stiffened in his rib cage from time to time, preventing a proper breathing.

He could have still been able to practice his magic facelessly -he wouldn’t be the first one to do so after all- but it seems crazy, surreal even, for him to picture being so public about such a heavy little secret nowadays. He found comfort in the concealed, in the invisible so long ago.

See, that’s the most important reason why Corpse is who he is today but stopping the explanations there would be neglecting the truth. Corpse would, but I'm more honest than he is.

Somehow, he believes a little too seriously that a kid’s app was designed to ruin his life. He feels this rotting taste that burns his tongue every time he thinks about it, he always talks about it with great passion; as if one minute videos could compete against the thundering energy that travels from his veins to the tip of his fingers. Witchcraft tiktok got the last bit of his ancestral pride and that’s a damn shame.

His character ambles around the hostile corridors dipped in yellow light, looking for a prey to slice in half. He doesn’t have a plan yet but he sure knows how to improvise by now. Corpse deems that he’s rather good at it. He meets Tina in O2. She’s wandering around, running like a headless chicken. What if he took that expression a little too seriously? Alas, he can’t wrap his mind around the idea of the unforgivable and she escapes his reach. Corpse’s nose wrinkles, better luck next time.

His fictional blood thirst gets stronger when he hops inside a vent and observes Rae’s red character doing her tasks. Corpse knows what comes next, it’s inevitable. A hint of excitement and nervousness hatch on his chest.

At the same time on the other side of the country, the ones you love are carrying a big cake to your table. It seems so silly and it leaves you slightly embarrassed that people are celebrating the fact that you were born but, somehow, you can’t forbid that smile to reach your ears.

When you look at the cake, a snort escapes your control. Your friends drew a glazed picture of you but you find yourself hoping that there isn’t much resemblance between that Picasso-ish designed cake and your actual face. I mean, except for that particularity your face displays; eyes that don’t match in colors, one green and one hazel, it really just looks like a kid's doodle.

23, what a weird number. It doesn’t sit quite right with you for some reason. 22 is fine, same goes for 24 but 23 … Somehow, it feels like something is either missing or too much. You’re not too sure which one it could be.

The warmth that emanates from the candles is sweet and tickles your chin softly and everyone is singing along the most disastrous birthday wishes. You’re preparing for your wish. What could you need more? You’re a faceless horror narrator on youtube and life is just about good. I mean, there really isn’t much to complain about and that should be enough.

Your mind drifts off for a second, contemplating what the dream life could be about while one of your friends is already complaining about wax getting all over your glazed face. You could wish for material things but they come and go and their meaning is only ephemeral, maybe 23 is about getting more than that.

Ah, found it. You close your eyes. May I find the place where I truly belong. 23 candles are blown in one breath, not a bad performance.

That’s when the candle on Corpse’s desk starts shining a delicate and orange shade.

Corpse doesn’t notice it at first, too impregnated by his hunt, but when the unusual warmth finally informs him of the merry event, he wrestles to keep his mind into the game. His virtual character stands motionless for a second as he mutes his mic and takes his headphones off.

Fuck, not now please.

Somewhere, a new version of the love of his life turned 23. His mind drifts off, wandering near this idea as his eyes meet the flame.

It’s been hundreds of years and that fucking candle kept you hostage of his mind. Because Corpse couldn’t forget about you, he built those walls to provide you from slipping away, from invading too much of his busy mind. It was a compromise he made with himself so he couldn’t reach you entirely and, therefore, miss you completely. Yet, your rebirth leaks through the pores of his brain and past the fences no matter how hard he tries.

Corpse battles to breathe, he tries to get his mind back on the game but somehow his throat is already filling with a dangerously acidic concoction. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice immediately the way his fingers start shaking at a painstaking rhythm.

He moves his character around. Left and right. It’s mechanical and meaningless, nothing but a lost cause. Corpse clenches his grip around the mouse, hoping that the unsteadiness would pity him. How much longer can he carry that feeling? It sits on his shoulders and his chest. It tests out his patience, his own resistance to pain.

“Corpse!” Rae shouts wholeheartedly, rooting him out of his spiral. “Where are you?!”

Fuck; he has no ounce of idea of what is happening in real life, too busy going down this familiar and intimate loop once more. He swallows it all, praying that you would spare him some earned mercy. You’re always so cruel, unabashedly sneaking in and taking over his space despite all his efforts.

“I-huh- I’m in medbay, I have scan," he bluffs, hoping that no one would notice the way his voice cracks at the end.

Because if anyone did, he would have to admit that he’s not okay, that he never was and doubts that he ever will be. Just as if conceding the facts would’ve allowed him to feel how flourishing his despair was. There’s this knot inside his throat. It’s painful and he’s so tired. How many times was he left crawling on his bathroom’s floor when his heart fractured a little deeper? He misses you every fucking day but each rebirth brings back more and more longing.

He would love to abandon himself to the aching pleasure of this unsolicited reminiscence but he knows that if he did, you would possess him wholly and never give him back. You plague his mind like a mist that grows thicker and thicker on his lungs. It diffuses everywhere and intoxicates what’s left of him.

“Sure sleepy but that’s bullshit,” Tina whines. “We know it’s Corpse. He’s been sus’ the entire round!”

“He said he had scan, right?” Sean interferes, believing that Corpse is the jester. “Why don’t you give him the benefit of the doubt?”

They’re all waiting for Corpse to step in, to defend himself but he’s no longer here, too busy trying to swallow the emotions that are leaking all over the place. It gnaws him alive, piece by piece and it hurts so fucking much. Will it ever stop?

Silence is convenient, “I voted” badges get pinned on everyone’s chest. His black character falls into the lava, what an ironic metaphor.

“Sorry guys, something came up and I gotta go.” He finally says, hurry in his voice. He doesn’t try to hide it. In fact, he can’t.

“Are you s…” Rae’s voice gets cut abruptly when Corpse quits the call without further notice.

Corpse knows what’s next, when his head gets overcrowded by feelings and his heart too empty. It’s ugly, it’s messy and oh how he wishes it would be different this time.

The room is spinning from the crumbs of your sweet face and the trickle of your voice that drips through his ears as if you were still here. He clings onto that distorted and stained picture as if it was the ultimate proof that you were real. Were you even real once ? Remembering feels like repeating a word over and over again: with time, it loses its meaning. It wasn’t you he remembered, Corpse figured it out a long time ago. You weren’t there anymore.

The thought of it drives him crazy. He wishes he could get rid of that fucking candle, constant reminder of your rebirth away from him, constant reminder of the defeat he has to endure every time you turn 23 and you’re still not by his side. He has been looking for you everywhere for hundreds of years, from the biggest capitals to the most secluded parts of this world, without a single hint of your existence. You’re his greatest failure and he can’t, he won’t stand that.

Corpse grabs the candle and it collides with the floor with a thud that tangles with his raw voice. His chest moves heavily. It's scattered and in discord and there is this distorted gaze on his face when he remembers that the candle cannot be shattered. It’s this unsolicited spark of self-awareness that brings him closer to reality. Fuck. What the fuck is he doing? Corpse finally lost his damn mind. His hands wander uncontrollably in his hair and he looks around frantically for a second, trying to remember how to survive.

Corpse’s head is pressuring him, rushing him to turn off his computer and spill the words that are stuck on the back of his tongue on a piece of paper. That grip is unforgivable and unclear but he starts writing as if it was the only thing left to do, maybe it is. It feels like survival instinct at this point, it feels like the last attempt to collect the pieces of himself you left behind.

Dear you,

Happy birthday, wherever you are in this world. Another letter is about to join the pile. How many are there already? I wouldn’t know. I stopped counting since it made me sick.

As every time, I hope it’s the best birthday you have ever had. I remember the twenty-third birthday we spent together as if it were yesterday. I can no longer recall the way your eyes wrinkled under your bright smile or the sound of your echoing laughter but I do remember that warm feeling inside my chest, the pain in my cheeks from laughing with all my heart. How pleasant was it to be able to live it all with you? To be able to embrace you, to breathe you, to see you. Forgive me, my love, for I am no longer capable of picturing anything of you. I wish I could. I wish I could be haunted by a proper ghost, at least, and not just a glimpse of the range of emotions that animated me when you were by my side. All I can remember now is that you felt like a firework and that my eyes never met a prettier human. It’s so truly unfair to think about the fact that no one matters as much as you still do.

I am drifting off, am I? I always tend to do that in those letters. I hope you’re doing well, I really do. Did you spend your birthday with the ones who love you? I hope you’re happy and healthy. It’s the only important thing, or at least that’s what I have learned so far.

I hate those letters, they make me realize how lonely I am. Somehow, it feels like I’m expecting an answer that is never going to arrive.

Fuck. My skin aches from the lack of your touch. I miss you so fucking much. Just tell me what to do. I tried everything and you’re still stuck inside my brain. I’m a sorcerer for fuck’s sake, one of the most powerful beings to have ever existed and yet the concept of one single human defeats me day after day, rebirth after rebirth. I’m a fucking shame for my kind. I hate you. I love you so very much. Happy birthday.

Yours truly, Corpse Husband

The paper is stained by the storm that has been building up in Corpse's mind for hours. The letters are deformed now. Look at the mess you just made. He throws the letters away, where he can no longer see it and brings his knees to his chest, resting his head between his legs. He feels like screaming one more time but he’s choking. Sweet and sore agony grips his throat as his veins are burning with thick poison.

Don’t be fooled, Corpse would have been able to cast a spell or two to forget about your existence and spare himself a bit. Yet, it would only erase the last proof he had of you, not his feelings. He would have to bear the burden of a quest he could no longer figure out. He would be left longing for something that no longer existed. As if it wasn’t the case already. He wishes he could sleep, life would be so fucking easier if he could just fall asleep.

A few days have passed since your birthday. The thread between days and nights is thin and confusing and the candle on Corpse’s desk is still radiating with as much energy as the first day.

Corpse’s head is heavy, aching, he wonders if he could still carry it on his shoulders if he wasn’t lying on his bed. That sore body feels like it has been drained from an eagerness that has been growing for too long. Corpse groans, trying to figure out what’s sheets and blankets and what’s limbs, living up to the name he chose for himself.

Every ray of the sun is burning his skin. It leaves his body smelling like heat, he doesn't like that smell. Now, he could just get up and draw the curtains but that laziness is as weary as infiltrated. If only it could rain, maybe it would soothe his nerves and his growing migraine.

After a few minutes of silent fulminations, Corpse finally unlocks his phone and opens his texts one by one just to ignore them. He’s curled up on himself, as if a compressed version of his darkness could help in order to block the light. Sorcerers are supposed to be tied with nature, with every ray of the moon and the sun. His bond with the sun is molded, if not completely doomed to grow untie. Corpse is a sorcerer like no others and that goes without saying.

One text captures his breath and his attention, bringing back some interest into the numbness. It’s coming from you, y/n. Or at least, the “you” from this present life. The “you” who isn’t aware of the past and the “you” Corpse doesn’t know is the one he has been looking for during eternity.

In this life, the two of you aren’t close enough to be friends -and he would never let you take that role- but, by the time of your first Twitter interaction -which consisted of you tweeting emo Sykkuno with tattoo pictures and Corpse replying with a meme that said "If life is a simulation please turn it off", Corpse knew you should be near him at all time. Not too close for you to actually be able to touch him but definitely not too far. It’s peculiar but something that has to be felt, not explained; a primitive hunch so loud it couldn’t be unheard.

His mind is awake again. The plan for today, which consisted of him rotting in his bed, seems compromised right now. Corpse turns to lay on the left side of the bed, where the sheets are cooler. His brows furrow and he sighs heavily as he rubs his eyes with his thumbs.

Corpse really doesn’t know why he’d feel that way in the first place for someone like you. You always seem so organic, radiating, so free in the way you choose to exist. He envies you for being so authentic when all he can afford to do is remain hidden, where no light can really reach him if not to draw a faint shape of his being. No harsh feelings though, it’s just the way he feels about anyone who doesn’t sound fake. There is still a bit of remaining endearment in the way Corpse’s words are thrown at you, you just have to know what to look for.

Now, Corpse trades his horror narrator's advices against some social media help. Those things are bigger than him, he’s too old for that anyway. You think the way he still uses symbols as emojis is charming -no one does that anymore- but Corpse just can’t keep up with today’s slang and way of showing emotions via texts. Kids these days are just too creative with the way they express themselves.

[Hello, Mr Sorcerer, hope you’re doing good. I need your help on something.]

Huh.

He meets your words and his mind gets coated in sweat, frozen blood preventing the next heartbeat from happening. Who told you?

Corpse can’t wrap his mind around the fact that his most precious secret is being exposed with that much negligence. He can count on his fingers the number of people who are aware of his true nature, half of them are actually other magical beings of some sort. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

His head is hammered by thoughts. He thinks he’s screwed, that everyone will know. He can already foresee what is about to come. That’s why there is a bit of fear in the way his eyebrows are arching. His alerted mind screams for him to just throw his phone across the room but his fingers, covered in panic, are faster. The first text he sends is not directed to you, but to Sykkuno, his familiar.

Familiars are to sorcerers what assistants are to magicians. In short -but not limited to- a massive help.

Corpse’s link with Sykkuno transcends the law of words and thoughts. They just understand each other and the way they do, without even having to see each other, is just something that has to be witnessed once in a lifetime. It’s a sort of energy that travels through space, a special connection. It's light and invisible but leaves a warm trail on its way.

However, what doesn’t transcend their bond is the concept of time zone -which Corpse forgot about for a second. Sykkuno is probably asleep right now. Corpse’s panic takes back its race once he realizes he’s on his own and he types:

[Haha, very funny. You know, if you wanted to talk, you just had to say hi :)]

Denial, that will do the trick, right? You can’t be that persistent. Or at least that’s what Corpse hopes when he leaves his phone on an unstable balance on his forehead, waiting for an answer he hopes would spare his mind from yet another issue he has to take care of.

[I knew you’d say that but don’t worry, I promise I won’t snitch,] you reply, lips twitching under a sly smile. [I’m way too afraid of you cursing me or something.]

[Who told you shit like that anyway?]

[I just know someone.]

His expression hardens, that head keeps throbbing harder and harder by the minute. You’re so impetuous and it turns him into an impatient and choleric fog. The topic is too important, crucial and it shows how you truly have no idea what you’re talking about when you act as recklessly as you do.

[Some crazy folk told you about magic and you believed them, huh? Thought you were smarter than that.]

[Dream would be pretty upset if he knew you called him “some crazy folk”.]

Corpse stares numbly at his screen before sitting back on his bed, pulling away from his vision the curly strands that fell down. He throws a bunch of silent curses at the sun which is still attacking him, if not even more now. He types a few words but erases them in a snap, repeating the process once or twice more. Now he has to send another text, this one is for Dream : “we need to talk.”

What a weird day.

Questions, Corpse has so many of them but he can’t stop shaking his head with confusion. He had no idea you knew Dream. Why would Dream reveal something so critical as Corpse’s identity? Why would another sorcerer send you his way? That’s not how things are done unless it’s something they deem they wouldn’t be able to handle and there’s really a few things Dream wouldn’t be able to do. Corpse hesitates for second, fingers fidgeting in the air. He doubts that he would ever be capable of doing something Dream can’t do but does it really matter when, right now, you’re holding information you should never be holding in the first place?

[Feeling like trading secrets under the full moon?] You outbid. It’s always so tempting to tease Corpse when he sounds like a grumpy old man.

[A sincere fuck you.]

[That’s very rude, Mr Sorcerer.]

The way you avoid providing any sort of explanation grows in his mind like weeds that need to be ripped off. Really, from all the good timing in the world, you had to choose the worst one. But there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips when he does the math and realizes that, if you wanted to use that secret to your advantage, you would have done it by now. A slow relief that softens his headache. Also, Corpse is well aware that, as annoying as you can get, he can’t refuse you a thing.

[Fine, tell me what you need.]

[So I keep seeing the same number again and again and your name keeps appearing in my head at random times. Still don’t get the correlation but I know there is one. I wanna know the number’s meaning and how I can get rid of you.]

Corpse huffs, he’d like to know that himself. He’s about to laugh it off when he reads the text one more time. Something about it is mysterious enough to pique his curiosity. You mentioned his name, it bothers him. Not that he doesn’t appreciate you thinking about him but because it sounds odd enough to be something related to magic in one way or another. There’s this mix of excitement and apprehension that fills the pit of his stomach and now half of a smile is embellishing his lips. This buzzing sound in his brain, maybe it’s the final signal that he should start practicing magic again, the final signal his life will feel thrilling again.

[Call you in 5. This is a consultation by the way, I’m not doing this for free.]

[Fine, you rat.] You answer with a victorious smile.

Corpse’s words linger in the air. It’s smooth like velvet -you could almost touch it if you pictured it hard enough- and it’s soothing in some way. It’s deep mumbles and bits of light chuckles and a little magic. You’re spinning slowly on your chair, playing with strands of your hair. There’s a different tone in Corpse’s voice. He sounds tired and it’s mixed with something else you can’t really pinpoint. For the best or the worst, that, has yet to be determined.

“So.” Corpse says, bringing you back to reality. “What’s that number you were talking about?”

“Right. So, I keep seeing the number 5 everywhere. I wake up at 5:55 every morning. When my eyes are looking at the clock, it’s 5:55PM and it extends to absolutely everything.” You faintly slap your palm against your thighs in exasperation.

Corpse is silent for a moment as he tries to collect the bits of knowledge that are still hanging here and there inside his mind. As he expected, the pressure below his left eyebrow makes it hard to think. He really doesn’t get why Dream wouldn’t be able to take care of a matter that sounds so frivolous. It feels like the most important piece of the puzzle is missing , the one that makes the whole picture makes sense.

“Okay, this is not really my specialty but the number 5 is an interesting angel number.” Corpse hums. The word “specialty” echoes. Dream talked about that once and somehow, that’s how you finally realized that Corpse was, indeed, a sorcerer. Not that you wouldn’t believe the information in the first place but there’s a remarkable difference between learning and experiencing. What would be his specialty then?

Dream introduced you to this new veil a couple of months ago and you never fully believed in it before getting involved. Maybe that’s why you never talked about it to anyone. Even now, your skeptical nature always finds its way back to you. He said all sorcerers had specialties and that his was clairvoyance. You don’t really know what that means but you wouldn’t ask too much. Knowledge seems like a curse in that field, or at least that’s what you have learned from Dream’s distressed tone when he talked about the past. He always sounded like a broken record, a little out of tune, as if his soul was still partially stuck back there and maybe that’s why Corpse always sounded that way too.

“Do you believe in guardian angels?” You raise an eyebrow, high voice brimming with confusion.

“Do you?” Corpse pauses, you’re silent for a couple of seconds and he realizes that he won’t get an answer to that. “The number 5 is your guardian angel trying to tell you that things are about to change in your life. In fact, it means that the process already started.”

“You’re kinda scaring me though,” you say as you readjust your sit, nose wrinkling under an almost grimace. You don’t like it, you don’t like their world. It’s not yours, you’re only a human with a mere life and an almost mere job. Sometimes, you hate Dream for letting you on this secret you were now forced to keep. It always felt so two faced.

“You don’t have to be scared, the change is only gonna benefit you.” Corpse’s voice is soft and the way you can tell he believes in the words he is speaking is almost as surprising as reassuring. You can’t help it, you don’t like change. The unknown is called that way for a reason and maybe this reason is the explanation for why it needs to remain that way.

“Sure,” you coy. “What do I do about you? That’s what really interests me.”

He scoffs. Trust me, that’s what interests him the most as well. Yet Corpse knows no answer to that. He hesitates for a second and his eyes wander into the void. Should he let you know that he doesn’t have a clue, that it somehow scares him as much as it intrigues you? It feels like his broken sorcerer ego would crack even more if he did. Maybe he just had to find out before letting you know.

“Are you obsessed with me, y/n?” Corpse winces. Why would he have to travel through sarcasmland(™) to escape the question? His eyes go wide for a second, flickering on corners of his empty room. It’s only fair that he would tease you like you tease him, right?

“You’re just being annoying now,” you mumble, cheeks flushing in a vivid tint of pink and Corpse snorts.

Corpse almost forgot about himself for a second, about that damn candle, but it hits him once the conversation fades away and the static silence is the only thing left. So he gets up, grunts in complaint rooted out by sore muscles, turns his computer on and plays some rain sounds. The melody of droplets hitting the ground is reminding him how to breathe.

“Rain sounds, huh,” you whisper. “You like those.”

Corpse hums and the two of you are left listening to the rain. It tickles your ears pleasantly, so you close your eyes and relax in the back of your chair for a moment. It’s a beautiful disharmony if you really pay attention, just like Corpse is. You feel like the conversation is about to end, you don’t want him to hang up just yet.

“Corpse?” Your voice trails for a second and Corpse hums again. “Why did you decide to be faceless?”

“What did Dream answer to that question?” His tone is interesting, a bit higher than it probably should have been. What came up as conversation modalities turns into a piqued interest.

“He never answered me," you mumble.

“So people like you can’t take advantage of our nature in real life too,” he lies and you can tell by the half chuckle that travels with the answer.

You know you won’t get more from him, way less than you wish you did. Those faceless sorcerers always leave you hanging. They let you in on their little Hannah Montana life but never bear the consequence that is this endless and flowing well of questions. The rain rings heavily through your ears. It’s time for the call to end.

"Goodbye, Mr Sorcerer,” you sing before hanging up.

When the darkness finally surrounds Corpse, he slips into a strange place that greets him with a familiar smell; vanilla and freshly cut grass. The birds are singing. He takes a long inspiration, his body knows before he does. Corpse looks around, trying to let the image of the surrounding setting sink in.

That place seems oddly familiar, yet totally new; a kitchen made of golden wooden walls. It's decorated with an old and distinguished taste. The wooden table is dressed with a pretty blue and red tablecloth. Vases of fresh flowers displayed on parts of the kitchen, dried herbs hanging above the sink in front of the window. It’s dipped in sunlight, too bright to be real. The rays of light are swaying with the shadows of branches which are dancing outside with the wind. Corpse doesn’t mind the light for once, he even closes his eyes for a second to let every pore of his body get soaked in it. God, did he miss that place.

“Honey, I was waiting for you.”

Corpse’s heart jumps a little before clutching harder. He knows who’s here, he knows it’s his unforgettable love and the idea makes him almost want to never open his eyes again. He can feel it, the profound kindness and sweet smiles that are surrounding you like it always have and it makes his eyes burn with tears that are ready to trail down his cheek, sobs jostling inside his throat. Corpse wishes he could just cover you in embraces and kisses but he can’t, he can never do that in those dreams.

Corpse tries his hardest not to let the frustration immerse him in bitterness by controlling his breathing which could get carried away at any moment now. He finally swallows it all to look at you. There’s a significant disappointment on his face when he realizes yours is as blurry as always. He wishes he could just witness this beauty one more time. He doesn’t remember what your face looks like, you’re not real. It’s nothing but a dream and you’re not here.

“I made some cookies for you.” The ghost of you says as it points out a chair that seems to have appeared out of nowhere, inviting him to take a seat as it does the same. “Those are your favorite, remember?”

With a voice sweeter than honey, so bewitching, Corpse’s body works on its own and mimics your gestures. His eyes are frozen on your silhouette. He tries to remember the shades and colors that were once painted on your face. If only he could remember.

“Did you redecorate our kitchen?” Corpse asks as he takes a bite of the cookie.

“Did I?” Your past self wonders out loud. “It’s been so long, I can’t tell.”

The treat tastes as good as it always has, Corpse takes another bite. The silence in the kitchen is delicate, contemplative. Outside, the weather is lovely; white clouds floating above the endless and bright green meadows. Corpse tries to take everything he can from that dream, from the peacefulness he feels now deep inside, and the perfume of your skin, to the sweet voice that caresses his ears. If Corpse could stay here forever, he would.

“Why are you here, my love?” You suddenly ask, forcing Corpse’s attention which he refuses by looking away.

“I wonder if the wind is warm or cool outside, maybe I should check.”

Corpse knows what happens every time you visit his dreams : you end up asking this question, he answers and suddenly he’s alone and you vanished into thin air. The response is always the same; because I miss you. It leaves him feeling lonelier than ever, craving a presence he can no longer be blessed with. Just a little bit longer, please. He blinks rapidly to expel the few tears that are forming in his eyes, so the knot inside his throat wouldn’t become more unbearable than it already is. Corpse is left feeling so desperate and helpless.

In a precipitation he almost can't control, he gets up and walks towards the door. He just wants to feel the wind on his skin. Please, just a bit longer. Corpse is almost at the door when his eyes deform with stupor under the pressure of a hand that grabs his sleeve. His heart stops, he was never able to touch you in a dream before. What changed? There’s a moment of hesitation before his eyes travel from your hand, to your arm, to your neck, to your face and he can no longer swallow his emotions when he dives into your eyes. Your eyes, he can see them.

When Corpse wakes up, wiped out of his dream, his breath is short and sweat pearls down his forehead. He’s in a rush, he remembers something about your face, something important. He knows what to look for now; your eyes, your irises. They don’t match in color. The left is green, the right has a pretty hazel color.

☾ A/N : Welcome on this new AU my friends I’m so excited to have you here with me on this new journey! I hope you liked the first chapter. A big thank you to @moontwinkles for beta reading the chapter and being a big help 💗 How are we feeling about this? Faceless leo men being sorcerers and familiar Sykkuno??? Idk I’m a little too passionate about it. Don’t worry the next chapter won’t be as angsty as this one but I needed to express my thrist for angst lmao anyway let me know what you think! Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

☾ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 *OPEN* : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @lochness-butmakeitsexy ; @bizarrebibitch ; @bellomi-clarke ; @ladybismuth ; @katyasrussianaccent ; @satanhauntedourcats ; @owl-llie ; @teenloves ; @notannis ; @mcntsee ; @rottenroyalebooks ; @peachdoppi ; @mirahg ; @foxxtrot-116 ; @koi-soi ; @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker ; @butterfly-skinnylegend ; @fanworrior ; @stickystrawberrysyrup ;

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband fic #corpse husband AU #the sorcerer #platonic!dream

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whimsicallyreading · 4 years ago

Text

Who Cares

Masterlist

Hunt was soaked in blood.

From beneath his chin, to the toes of his heavy, leather boots. It coated him like a second layer of crimson skin, and Hunt was aware that anyone who came across him would think he was a walking nightmare.

This wasn’t the first or last time he’d walked around publicly in such a state. The Umbra Mortis was no fairy tale told to keep children in bed. He was a living, breathing male that walked the streets of Lunathion daily.

Bryce’s new public status meant that cameras followed her everywhere. Hunt’s name was elevated with hers, but people hesitated pointing their lenses at him. They still cleared the sidewalks when he passed by.

It stung.

Hunt landed on the roof of their apartment and made the slow descent to his floor. Red foot prints followed his wake but he didn’t look back at those. He would leave a tip for the janitor later.

He stepped through the door and kicked off his shoes. Bryce, on the other hand, would murder him if they ruined her rugs.

A low, rumbling ground broke through the silence and Syrinx came barreling from his crate. The little beast charged at the intruder prepared to chew their bones with his need-like teeth.

“Syrinx,” Hunt huffed and got down on his knees. “If you bite my ass again I’m going to turn you into a pair of socks.”

Syrinx skidded to a halt, taking Hunt in with his amber eyes. Once he recognized the male under the blood, his tongue flopped out and his disposition sweetened.

“There you are, Beastie.” Hunt scratched Syrinx’s ears. “Bryce will be home soon and I need to go wash off before she sees me. I’ll take you on a walk after. How is that?”

Syrinx made happy, snuffling sounds and pranced back to his bed. Content to finish his nap and wait for all of his friends to arrive.

Hunt opened the door to his bathroom. Bryce had all but moved him into her room, but claimed this room still belonged to him. She wanted him to have the autonomy of his own space.

Hel, he loved her.

They also shared her bathroom now. Conserving water was her rational for that. Hunt didn’t want the blood to stain her tub, though, so he would use this shower.

Isaiah had called to inform him of a couple shifter radicals, intent on usurping the Wolves of the city and attempting to plant bombs in Moonwood. His friend was loathe to ask, but Hunt understood the request.

Dispatch them quietly.

Hunt wouldn’t deny that was his forte, and Isaiah asking out of respect was different than doing it because Micah ordered.

He is was halfway through cleaning the feathers of his left wing when he heard the apartment door slam open.

“Hunt,” Bryce’s voice screamed, filled with pain and terror.

Leaping from the shower, Hunt barely wrapped a towel around his waist before bursting into the living room.

Bryce was standing by the front door next to his bloodied boots. Her face was pale, legs trembling, and tears were running down her freckled cheeks.

“Bryce, what the Hel is wrong?” He gripped her shoulders and scanned her body for damage. Nothing was out of place besides the tears ruining her makeup.

Mentally he was swearing, if one of those fae bastards had harassed her again on her way home he would-

“There was blood-“ Bryce choked between sobs. “All the way down the hallway. On the walls. The floor, I thought, I thought-��

Shit. He was an idiot.

Hunt pulled her to his chest, neither caring that he was wet or that one wing was still stained and dirty. He could feel Bryce’s heart racing, and her whole body shook in his arms.

He carded his fingers through her hair. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.”

Bryce thought she was walking into another massacre. Another body. Another friend and another love death. He must have made a bigger mess than he’d thought.

“I didn’t know you had a job today,” she cried, her face stilled pressed into his chest. “You can’t do that to me.”

“I’m really freaking sorry,” Hunt apologized, feeling more like a bastard with every sob. “Isaiah called and I didn’t even think to call you.”

Bryce leans back and slams a fist again his chest, and damn if it didn’t hurt. “You moron! You didn’t even consider letting me know?”

Her sorrow was replaced with a burning rage that confused Hunt. “It wasn’t a serious job. Just messy. I didn’t think it was important. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I don’t care if you think it’s important,” Bryce growled, her freckles scrunched as her face contorted in anger. “It doesn’t have to be important. I care about you. I want to know because I care if you come home looking like a freaking reaper.”

Hunts eyebrows drew together, “It’s just my job, Bryce. I’m lucky to have one.”

“I know it’s your job,” her voice becomes quiet and her eyes look pained. “But don’t lie and say it doesn’t take a toll on you. We are mirrors, remember? You can’t lie to me. If I’d known I would have been here waiting for you.”

Hunt takes a risk and dips in to kiss Bryce. Nothing like the swift pecks they often exchanged, this was deep and passionate. He gripped the back of her hand in his fist and pulled Bryce closer to him.

When they pulled back, she looked flustered.

“I know you care,” Hunt chokes around the emotion building inside him. “It just surprises me how much sometimes.”

Bryce sighs and takes his hand, leading him back to the shower he left running. He sits on the side of the tub, still in his towel as she picks up a loofa and gets to work on his other wing.

They are silent as she works. Hunt can scent the fear that’s still leeching its way from her system. When she finishes, Hunt wets a rag and wipes the makeup and tears from under her eyes. He presses a kiss to each one when they are cleaned.

“You have a different kind of love Bryce,” He whispers foreheads pressed together. “I’ve never met a heart like yours. Sometimes the honor that you’ve made a place for me inside of it still hits me. I’m truly sorry for scaring you.”

Bryce looks up at him, her red lashes brushing against her eyebrows. “I wish you would stop forgetting that you aren’t alone anymore. You won’t ever be alone again, Hunt. I care if you are okay.”

Tears sting his eyes and he blinks them back. What a foreign concept. He’d spent most of his life in servitude but here was this girl, a literal princess who cared if he came home in a good mental state. Who’d washed him more than once. Who got a spark in her eyes whenever she saw him experiencing or enjoying something new.

Bryce, who made sure he had autonomy in their home, their relationship, their things. Because she wanted his freedom for him even when Hunt didn’t think he needed it.

“You aren’t alone either,” Hunt kisses her again. Deeper. More frantically.

Her hair is damp from the steam and sticks to his skin but he couldn’t care less as her arms wrap around his shoulders. Bryce cups both sides of his face in an iron grip.

Hunt lifts her off her feet and they stumble into the hall when they hear a gasp.

They rip apart and Bryce’s eyes widen in mortification at the couple standing at the door. “Mom! What the hel are you doing here?”

Ember and Randall are staring at them from the doorway. The latter looks like he wants to run back at the door or decapitate Hunt. Ember seems unbothered, her hands resting on her hips and a tight grin.

“Did you forget we were coming? Of course you did,” Ember sighs. “Tell your Angel to go put some clothes on, and perhaps clean yourself up as well?”

“I’m going to kill him,” Randall manages to strangle out, he looks to his wife. “Ember, I’m going to kill him.”

Ember rolls her eyes, “You can kill him later.” Her steely look turns towards Bryce. “We’ve had a long trip and I can assume you don’t have a room ready for us?”

Bryce murmurs under her breath away as she ushers Hunt out of sight. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll have Hunt’s room ready.”

“We will be waiting,” Ember sings as she and Randall drop their bags by the front door.

Bryce’s bedroom door shuts behind them and Hung runs a stressed hand through his damp hair. “That’s not how I wanted to officially meet your parents.”

“Well get over it,” Bryce throws a pair of shorts at him. “Nothing ever goes as planned with them.”

Hunt can’t help but think being almost naked and making out with their daughter had to at least be on the worst end of that spectrum. Still, he was resolved to try and fix this. He wants to exceed their expectations of a boyfriend.

For Bryce? There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do. How hard could impressing her human parents be? They’d chatted over video call before. He liked both of them. Hunt can rectify this situation, he assures himself.

At least, he hopes he can.

What happens when Val’s client never arrived for their appointment? She stress writes quinlar fluff on her phone while sitting on a grooming table. Hope you guys enjoy <3

Taglist- (let me know if you would like to be added or removed :D)

@cursebreaker29

@firestarsandseneschals

@royalsqueeze

@julemmaes

@tillyrubes10

@live-the-fangirl-life

@ghostlyrose2

#its gonna get awkward in here #Quinlar #hunt and bryce #crescent city #TAIl #The Answer is Love #a house of earth and blood

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mediocre-writerr · 4 years ago

Text

don’t give up on me [jennifer jareau]

JJ x fem reader

Summary: SSA Jennifer Jareau, JJ for liking, is dating coworker Y/N, but what happens when Y/N gets kidnapped by the unsub? Also this is a very long imagine soo enjoy!

W A R N I N G: blood, wounds, kidnapping, slight mention of assault and mentions of death

*not my gif*

The jingle of JJ’s phone going off wakes you both up from your slumbers. You groan shoving my head into the pillow as she chuckles softly.

“Agent Jareau,” she begins and you hear the sounds of ‘mhm’, ‘okay’, ‘yes’ fill the silence, “Alright me and Y/L/N are on our way.”

“No. Nope. I’m staying right here.” you say shaking your head into the pillow.

“That was Hotch, we have a case here in Quantico.” you let out a groan and bury your face deeper into the pillow.

She laughs softly as she lifts your shirt a little to scratch your back lightly. You let out a soft sigh before looking at her. Her usual tamed blonde hair is everywhere and her eyes are still a little closed from just waking up.

You send her a small little smile before sitting up. You tuck her hair that is in front of her face behind her ear before kissing her softly.

“Ugh, morning breath!” she complains scrunching her nose up in disgust.

You place your hand over my heart like you’ve been shot before falling down onto the bed. Your tongue sticking out, “Agent Jareau...only a true love’s kiss could save me. Please help.”

She laughs to herself lightly before leaning down and giving me a small kiss, “Let’s go before Hotch really throws a fit.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine. By the way you should get used to my morning breath, you are my fiancé after all.” And she chuckles again lightly.

You guys get to the BAU and see everyone in the briefing room. You take a seat next to Rossi as he gives you a fist bump. JJ stood up in the front with Hotch giving him a small apologetic smile.

“Late night last night ladies?” Morgan asks with classic player smirk.

“Yes a late night of sleep that was rudely interrupted.” you look at Hotch and he stares at you with a scary glance and you put your hands up in surrender.

You like to keep the mood light in the BAU especially before or after case. The team deals with dark and twisted stuff all day. So you try to get the team to laugh and smile as often as you can.

“Now that we’re all here,” Hotch begins looking at the both you and JJ and you try your best not to laugh, “The unsub has left us a tape. It was left at the footsteps of the BAU. I’ll play it for you.”

The team turn their heads towards the projector and there’s a victim strapped onto the chair with a mask cartoon version of Prentiss on their face. They look terrified and are trying their best to escape the bounds that the unsub has them in. They’re breathing heavy, this isn’t staged. This isn’t fake. This is real life. Another person with a mask of Hotch comes in the background and shoots them right in the head and then they just stare at the camera.

“So this unsub definitely wants our attention.” Prentiss announces.

“They are very confident that they can get away with whatever they’re doing.” JJ chimes in.

“Like they’re trying to mock and taunt us.” Rossi adds on.

“The police department found the victims body: 24 year old, Maya Flynn. She was a young teacher who just got her degree. She was dumped in the alley by the BAU. Wrists had rope burns on them which makes sense as they were bound to the chairs.” JJ goes on and you look down to read the files.

“Reid and Rossi, you guys go take a look at the body. Morgan and I will go to the crime scene. JJ try to handle the press and keep all of the word of this to a minimum, do not under any circumstance leak the video tape. Alright everyone let’s catch and find our unsub.” Hotch announces.

“Wait-wait what about us?” Prentiss asks gesturing to the two of you.

“Prentiss, you were specifically targeted in this video. We don’t know what the unsub’s game is, but we know that you were their first kill. We need to keep you under watch here, you can help JJ or Garcia. And Y/L/N, you didn’t finish your paperwork from the last case and Strauss is on my ass about, so once you’re done with that we will reassess your assignment.”

Everyone leaves the briefing room to get to their assignments, but you, Prentiss, and JJ.

“Love, you didn’t finish your paperwork?” JJ stares at you with her death glares.

“No...I wanted to go home early.” I reply and she shakes her head before giving me a kiss on the head.

“Finish it up.” she says sternly.

“I will, be safe?” you ask holding your pinky out for a pinky promise.

She locks your fingers before we kiss our own hand, “Always.”

______________________________________________________

“Oh here comes Y/N! She goes for the 3 and SPLASHHH!” you yell as your crumpled up piece of paper makes it way to the trash can.

“You know you’re never going to get any work done and go out on the field if you keep messing around.” Prentiss points out clearly annoyed with just sitting here and doing nothing.

“You’re just mad that you can’t contribute to the case.” you contradict and she rolls her eyes before getting up from her desk, “Where ya going?”

“To get coffee.” she responds.

“Coffee machine is broken. Let me go get us some because I am starving and want a really good sandwich. Plus you can’t leave.” you point out grabbing your phone, keys, and wallet and shoving them into your pocket.

“Oh yes please!” Prentiss screams, “You’re the best!”

“I hope so I am your best friend,” you shoot back sending her a wink which led to her rolling her eyes again, “I’ll be right back. Text me your order!”

You walk the short stroll to our favorite cafe, one you’ve walked a million times some with Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia, but some on your lonesome. The breeze nice and cool, it’s a good break from all of the life threatening and disturbing things we see on a daily basis. All of the kids walking around holding their parents hands. Their eyes hold so much innocence, it’s sad that they don’t know the true dangers of this world.

The next thing you know the world went black.

______________________________________________________

Team’s POV

“Where’s Y/N?” JJ asks as the rest of the team walks back into the briefing room.

“She went to go grab us some coffee and sandwiches, she should be here by now.” Prentiss says and she stands staring at her phone searching for a text from Y/N.

They all sit down around the table looking at the board, trying to piece together every little thing, but coming up short. They don’t even have a profile they could give the local police department. That’s how stumped they are.

Garcia comes running into the room with tears filled in her eyes.

“Garcia? What’s wrong?” Hotch asks with concern laced in his tone.

“I got sent an anonymous video from the unsub. I tried to track down where it was sent from, but it was a burner phone.” she says speaking really fast, that’s how the team knows something is really wrong, when she’s speaking a million miles per hour.

The video starts to play from the TV monitor and gasps filled the room. There was Y/N strapped onto a chair, no mask on her face like the other video just Y/N and her trying to remain calm.

Most of them seemed to think Y/N was okay, but her best friend Prentiss and JJ knew better. They could see the fear glistening in her eyes.

The unsub punched Y/N across the face and Y/N’s head fell back. She continued to spit and cough out blood. JJ’s heart stopped and flinched slightly at the sight.

“Alright now that I’ve knocked the sense into you, are you ready to deliver my message?” the unsub asked, his voice distorted.

“No. You can’t break me, is that the best you can do?” Y/N asked knowing that it’ll hopefully give Garcia enough time to track something, anything down.

Then there came another punch. Her eye immediately started to bruise, “Come on baby. Do it for me.” the unsub whispered in a gross seductive voice.

“Jay,” you whisper, but the room is quiet enough that the camera picks it up, “I love you and for you I’d do anything.”

“That’s not what I asked you to say!” the unsub screamed punching Y/N again, “Now say what I told you!”

“He wants to ruin our lives. One by one, he’s been stalking us for years. If we don’t give him what he wants, he will ruin us.” she says finally following orders.

“Now what do I want?” he asks.

“Hotch he wants the files, something about the Black Hood. I don’t know why, but he wants them. Specifically from you and Rossi.” Y/N says blood dripping down her mouth.

“Good girl.” he whispers, “Now Hotchner, Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Prentiss, Garcia, and Reid, Agent Y/L/N doesn’t have a lot of time. She’s definitely a tough cookie to break, but I never back down from a challenge. I’m gonna call you guys to set up a deal, you’ll know who it is once I call,” the unsub gets closer to Y/N and his mouth is right by her ear as his hands wander along her body, “And in the mean time, we’re gonna have lots of fun aren’t we Y/N?”

The camera cuts out and JJ releases a scream, “No! No! No!” she begins to pace back and forth.

“JJ get a hold of yourself right now. If your ability to go along with this case professionally is compromised then I will gladly have you sit this one out.” Hotch yells sternly.

“No you don’t get to tell me that I have to calm down. When we went after Foyet your emotions were compromised yet all of still stood by your side. No one questioned your authority. When Doyle went after Emily, all of our emotions were compromised yet none of us were threatened to sit this one out. So you have no right to do the same to me. I am not some local detective, I am a BAU agent!” JJ yells and everyone is taken aback in surprise, but she’s not wrong.

They all went through something, yet none of them were threatened to step down. Especially Hotch with Foyet. Hotch and JJ continued to stare at each other none of them willing to break until Reid chimed in.

“The Black Hood case, that was a case in Riverdale back in the late 80′s to early 90′s. Where the killer went around terrorizing the town focusing on ‘sinners’ and he wanted to cleanse the town. What would the unsub want with the files?” Reid asks and Rossi steps in to try and break the tension.

“Me and Hotch worked together on it. We caught the guy fairly quickly. I always thought that it was too easy, but they just explained we got lucky that he slipped. Maybe we got it wrong, maybe we didn’t catch the unsub.” Rossi points out and after one last look at JJ, Hotch breaks his position.

“It’s always a possibility, but that would make him in his mid to late 60s. It can’t be him now can it?” Hotch points out pointing at the video.

“No, this guy looks to strong and his temper is too high for an older man. Plus he was very sexual towards Y/N, an older man wouldn’t have that kind of hormones.” Prentiss observes.

“Maybe a son? A family member?” Morgan asks.

“But why would they want the files if they know their dad wasn’t caught?” JJ chimes in finally after getting her breathing under control, her hand resting on her stomach.

Something that Emily picked up on fairly quickly, but brushed it off. She’ll talk to her about it when the time is right. Not right now.

The cover photo of the video was Y/N sitting there with blood dripping down her mouth. The unsub right next to her ear. JJ’s eyes couldn’t leave that picture. The picture of you in pain and scared.

“Maybe it’s not the actual Black Hood’s son. Maybe it’s the one who was caught and framed for it. He died in jail recently didn’t he? That could be his son’s stressor. He believed and was told his dad was innocent for so long that maybe he knows it wasn’t him. He wants to prove his dad wasn’t as terrible as everyone thinks. Sorta like an avenger, he wants to avenge his dad’s legacy!” Reid yells at and Hotch nods.

“Sounds like a good start Garcia-” he begins to say, but Garcia cuts him off.

“Already on it sir.” Garcia responds tapping rapidly on her computer.

“I’m gonna get some air.” JJ says and the rest of the team nods, but she’s already gone before she can get a response.

Hotch nods his head towards the door to let Emily know to follow and make sure she’s okay which she gladly obliged to.

______________________________________________________

JJ’s POV

I ran outside the BAU doors and immediately threw up in the bush closest to me, tears pouring down my face. The thought of the unsub doing that to Y/N and watching it made me sick to my stomach. Not only that, but the thought of what he’s doing to her right now.

I felt someone hold my hair back which I immediately tensed up to, “It’s okay. It’s just me.” I hear Emily whisper and my shoulders immediately relax.

After throwing up my entire breakfast I look at Em and she has concern brimming her eyes, “I’m scared Em.”

“I know, but Y/N’s strong. She’s a tough cookie and I know she’ll fight whoever this asshole is just so she can be with you.” she reassures me and i nod.

“Are you okay? I know how close you guys are. You were practically attached to the hip ever since you joined the team.” I ask her and she lets out a small sigh before biting her fingernails.

“A part of me feels guilty, well all of me. I wanted a coffee and her being the sweet person she is wanted to get one for me, but it was also just an excuse for her to not finish her paperwork. But I also know that Y/N’s glad it was her and not me. If she let me go out like that she wouldn’t forgive herself, so she took the risk, just to protect me. And I know she’d want us to stay strong and keep things light, but it’s hard when we witnessed what we just saw and knowing that she went out to protect me. Not just me, but all of us. That could be any one of us right now, but she decided to take the leap.” Em responds shaking her head.

“She really is a hero...” I respond placing my hands over my stomach again.

Emily was about to say something before her phone went off, “Hotch says Garcia just got something. We gotta go back in.” I’m about to cry again when Emily pulls me into a hug, “We’re gonna get her back.”

______________________________________________________

Team’s POV

“What have we got?” Prentiss asks as her and JJ walk into the room.

“Rylan Svenson, 24 year old son of Brett Svenson. This would’ve made him about 12 years old at the time of the murders. A good enough age to know where your dad was at the time of the murders. He now lives in Richmond, Virginia after moving from Riverdale, 4 years ago, and makes the daily commute as a postal worker here in Quantico.” Garcia explains, “No criminal record, but grown up in a rough social environment. Seems like he was a bit of loner in high school because everyone believed his dad was the Black Hood.”

“I think we’ve got our guy.” Rossi states and everyone nods.

“Alright when he calls we need to keep him on the line for as long as possible. He’s gonna have Y/N do most of the talking so JJ?” JJ turns her attention to Hotch, “Can you keep her talking? Try to make conversation, we’ll try to have Garcia track down the call. Or see if we can notice something that we didn’t notice before.”

“I can keep her talking.” JJ nods and Hotch nods back.

______________________________________________________

Your POV

*3 h o u r s l a t e r*

“Wakey, wakey princess,” Rylan whispers to you, he just injected some drug into your arm causing you to pass out, “It’s time for your special call home.”

You can feel your heart rate rising even higher each time he injects a drug into you after back talking him. Your pant leg has a hole in it. He stabbed you when his hands started to bleed from all the punching and then he wrapped the wound. He can’t get what he wants if you’re dead. He sets up the video camera and hits the call button after a few moments the team answers.

You can’t help, but smile at Hotch and Rossi in front of you, “Rylan Svenson? Is that you?” Hotch asks and Rylan has an evil smirk on his face.

“Took you a while to figure it out huh Hotch?” he responds.

“I remember you. You were just a little kid when we met.” Rossi points out.

“Yeah and I told you countless times it wasn’t my dad!” he yells out which causes you to flinch back lightly, last time he yelled liked that a knife penetrated your leg.

“Jay,” you whisper again and you smile at JJ’s face appearing into the frame.

“Hi love, you stay strong for me okay?” she whispers back smiling sadly at the nickname that only you call her.

You’re about to reply when Rylan pops in, “You know I wish I could’ve kidnapped you instead Jareau. It would have been a lot more fun to see them rush to find you especially since you’re pregnant,” your eyes wide slightly at what he said, “Oh wait...no one knows yet do they?”

“Is that true?” you ask your voice raspy and dry.

JJ nods, “Yeah it is. I found out a couple weeks ago, IVF worked, love. We’re gonna have a baby.” JJ’s voice cracked and you couldn’t helped, but smile at the thought of your little family.

“Which is why I need you to keep fighting. I need you to stay alive and stay strong not just for me, but for us,” she whispers placing her hands over her stomach.

Little to your knowledge the boys noticed something in the background that gave away where you were and they were on their way now; JJ just needs to keep you on camera for a little longer.

“I need you to stay alive so that we can lay in bed during our days off or late at night talking about baby names. I need you to stay alive so you can come with me to his or her first doctor’s appointment and we can hear their heartbeat. I need you to stay alive so we can paint their new bedroom and buy cute little clothes for them. I need you to stay alive so our son or daughter can meet their mom.” JJ had tears running down her face now and so did you, your heart rate still rising due to mix of drugs in your system, “Please Y/N. Please promise me that you will come home to us.”

JJ extends her pinky out towards the camera and you do the same. She brings her hand closer to her lips and kisses it softly and you’re about to do the same when everything goes black again.

______________________________________________________

JJ’s POV

Y/N’s about to kiss her hand when all of a sudden her eyes rolls to the back of her head. All of a sudden her body starts to jolt as foam starts to come out of her mouth.

“Rylan Sverson hands up right now!” I hear Morgan yell.

Rylan automatically takes off through the backdoor, but knowing them one of them was waiting out there for him. Reid comes into the frame and releases Y/N from the ropes and places her on her side.

He starts to count out loud probably timing the length of the seizure, “We need a medic in here! Right now!” Instead of going back to counting Reid starts doing chest compressions.

“JJ meet us at the hospital, we’ll be right there!” Hotch points out and the camera cuts out.

I release a loud sob at the sight of Reid doing chest compressions. Garcia and Prentiss escorts me to the car, neither of them leaving my side throughout the entire car ride.

They keep telling me it’s gonna be okay, but I can’t listen to them right now. The only thing I can focus on right now is hearing from Y/N herself that she’s okay.

We get to the hospital to find the boys already there like they promised. They explain that the doctors have her in the operating room right now. Other than her bloodstream, her leg seems like the only part of her injured. Rylan injected her with a mix of cocaine, meth, and heroine causing her brain and heart to haywire. They needed to give her a blood transfusion to get all of the drugs out, it seemed like a simple procedure, but anything could happen.

Rylan Sverson died, he was shot multiple times by Rossi for trying to shoot Hotch for trying to negotiate.

The whole team sat with me in the waiting room. Strauss even stopped by for a little before ultimately having to leave to finish up the paperwork that you didn’t get to finish.

“I’m sorry that I snapped and threatened to take you off the case.” Hotch sat down next to me and said. “It’s okay, I understand.” I whispered back.

“You know like Reid when Y/N joined remember how young she was? A bright eyed innocent girl excited for her new job at becoming a hero,” he begins and smiles softly, “Usually that innocence and that brightness fades with time, all of these horrible things we see on a daily basis it’s only a matter of time before it does. But Y/N has been with us for four years and not once have I seen it fade. From the day I met her I knew I wanted to protect her like a sister so me yelling at you was just a way to yell at myself to stay calm and professional.”

I look up at him and he as tears forming in his eyes. I place my hand on his knee, “She’s gonna be okay.” and he nods agreeing.

Many many hours passed when Y/N’s doctor finally came out, “She’s okay. The wound in her leg is all stitched up and her bloodstream is still clearing out. We got most of the drugs out, but some still linger. So we want to keep her here a little longer for precautions. But she’s awake and alert asking for Agent Jareau here.”

“Thank you Doctor.” Hotch says with a small smile and he nods before leaving.

“You guys can come in too. I know she’d love to see you all.” I say and we make our way to her hospital room.

______________________________________________________

Your POV

There was a soft knock at the door and you saw the team standing there with smiles on their faces.

“Hey guys!” you try to say with much enthusiasm as possible, but your tired state made it hard.

“Hey kid.” Morgan smiles as he got closer before ruffling your hair and your scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

Rossi gave you a fist bump, Hotch gave you one of his nods and a small smile, Reid, Prentiss, and Garcia all piled on top of you in one of the best group hugs you could ever get.

“Jareau,” you say softly as she plants herself next to your bedside.

You can see the tears that are already formed in her eyes, “Y/L/N,” she smiles at you softly and you gladly return the smile.

“You did really well out there Y/N.” Hotch says, “You took the risk to go out there. You knew how dangerous it was, yet you still went out because you knew if any one of us went out it would’ve ended the same way. I wish you didn’t do that and thought of yourself first, but I think on behalf of all of us: Thank you.”

“Woah that was deep, I was just trying to get out of doing paperwork.” you joke trying to lighten the serious mood and the worried looks on their face, which worked, their worried faced turned into smiles.

“That’s the sarcasm and smart ass remarks we missed and appreciate.” Rossi adds smiling.

“In all seriousness, I couldn’t let Prentiss out there and I knew that if you guys took one step out there alone, it would’ve been any one of you. You all mean so much to me I couldn’t allow that to happen.” you say and they all send your grateful smiles except for JJ who just seems lost in thought.

Prentiss picks up on JJ’s behavior and decides to step in, “I think we should give you guys some time to talk.” the rest of the team nods before saying their goodbyes.

After they leave JJ just continued to stand there staring into emptiness, “Pull up a chair, stay awhile.” you say jokingly trying to see that beautiful smile of her, but ultimately end up empty.

“Jay, baby, what’s going on?” you whisper and her gorgeous blue eyes finally lock with yours.

“I almost lost you today. We almost lost you today.” she whispers emphasizing the we in her sentence and you let out a soft sigh.

You scoot over a little in your bed and pat the spot next to her so she can cuddle up next to you. She hesitates at first, but ultimately sits down. Her head immediately goes onto your chest as her leg wrapped around your healthy one. Your arms wrapped her body as she fit into you perfectly.

You kiss the top of her head when she’s finally settled in, “I’m right here Jay. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you or our baby ever. It will always be us.”

“I know what your intentions were and they were good, but if we didn’t get there in time. If one thing went differently, you wouldn’t be here right now and I’d be holding a lifeless body.” she begins to cry onto your hospital gown.

You let her cry playing with her softly, “But I’m right here now baby. I’m real, I’m not a dream or a pigment of your imagination. I’m right here.” you squeeze her a little tighter and she looks up at you. You plant a soft kiss to those perfect lips of hers.

You place your hand over her stomach before leaning down a little to whisper, “Hey there cutie. I’m your mom and I can’t wait to meet you! You’re gonna have the best little family out there. You’ll have Uncle Derek, Uncle Aaron, Uncle David, and Uncle Spencer. Your aunt’s are the best too, Aunt Penelope and Aunt Emily. You also have the best mommy out there, she’s a hero! And me and your mommy are gonna make sure we protect you and keep that little sparkle in your eyes for as long as we can. I promise.” you place your pinky over her belly before kissing your hand softly.

______________________________________________________

You and JJ walk into the BAU to visit the team with both of you on maternity leave for awhile it’s hard to see them. And it was especially hard when they were on a case when JJ was in labor.

You held JJ’s hand in one of your hands and in the other was the baby’s carseat. JJ knocked on the briefing room door before entering, everyone looked up and smiled at the two of you.

“You guys have another three weeks! Get out of here!” Rossi yells jokingly and we all laugh.

“We just wanted you guys to meet our son: Daniel Aaron Jareau or Dani for short” you take Dani out of his little carseat and hold him in your arms.

Everyone gathered around and witnessed the beautiful piece of innocence in front of them.

“Aaron huh?” Hotch asks raising his eyebrows and giving one of his rare smiles.

“Yeah right. Couldn’t have been Derek.” Derek scoffs.

“Or Spencer,” Reid chimes in.

“Or David!” Rossi yells and we all laugh.

“We just thought it was fitting.” JJ smiled at Hotch thinking back to the conversation she had with him back at the hospital.

“Well I’m honored.” he smiles even wider, probably wider than you ever seen it.

They all looked at the newborn in front of them. Each of them taking turns holding him. He had JJ’s beautiful blue eyes, but now they were mixed with your innocence that everyone seemed to love.

Dani Aaron Jareau was just another reminder that no matter how dark and twisted this world is, no matter how many bad things they witness on a daily basis, that there’s always some sunshine or light to fill the darkness.

357 notes · View notes

yourmcu · 4 years ago

Text

Wish You Were Here (ii)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Summary:

an Infinity War/Endgame AU where Tony Stark’s daughter (you) is one of half the population that vanishes in the snap, Tony finds out later on when he arrives back to Earth, devastated, then you come back like the others to help fight Thanos.

Word count: 3,115

A/n: (moved to the end of the fic!)

Warnings: angst, death, swearing, Morgan’s a cutie! and no seriously I miss him so much

read it on ao3!

Part 1

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Just like the others, you were brought back when the Avengers succeeded in retrieving all the infinity stones.

You're laying on the ground at the same place you were last time: Wakanda. Once you gain consciousness you struggle to get up, your legs wobbly.

“Hello?” You call out, but you're alone, can’t even contact anyone since your suit is out of power. You have no clear memory of what happened, just that you had an anxiety attack while Natasha held you, then you blacked out and - that’s it.

You felt a strong breeze and footsteps behind you.

“[Y/N] Stark,” a man’s voice says. “Come with me.”

The man is ancient looking, had a cape and his facial hair weirdly reminds you of Tony’s. “Who are you? And how long was I out?” You look at a sparking yellow portal far behind him, “did you do that?”

“Stick together and stick with Wong,” the man calls out before the portal closes. You have no idea who he was talking to since they already got in. “Doctor Stephen Strange. We need to find Pepper Potts and... get you suited.”

“I already am suited it’s just - no juice. What’s going on?”

“It’s been five years. It’s time, your father and the others need our help to defeat Thanos,” Doctor Strange opens up another portal to an unfamiliar cabin. Your eyes light up at the mention of Tony. “Quickly. We do not have much time.”

Five years? Unbelievable. That’s just insane. You like sleeping a lot but you couldn’t imagine being asleep for five long years.

“Are - are you sure we’re in the right pla - okay, sorry, don’t have much time, yeah,” you knock on the door when Doctor Strange gives you a stern and impatient look. It gets answered right away.

“[Y/N]? Oh my god,” Pepper says breathlessly. You could feel her sobbing while she hugs you tightly.

“Hey, you guys didn’t tell me you moved,” you frown. “Is all my stuff here? Mr. Strange wants me to get ready and this isn’t the only suit I have-”

“Doctor Strange.”

“It’s upstairs, last room on the left,” Pepper smiles as she wipes her tears. You nod and went up the stairs as the magic doctor told her everything.

All your stuff were in boxes and your spare iron suit was standing in a corner. You wiped away the dust off and checked if it was in good condition. It was ready to go.

You quickly charged the weapons and blasters on the suit, and you still needed to-

You hear a small gasp from behind the door.

Confused, you turn around to see a girl with an amazed smile on her face. “Y/N!”

You cautiously walk over to the small girl, “yeah, I’m Y/N, what’s your name?”

“Morgan,” she replies, then her eyes widen as she hides something behind her back. “Daddy said I can borrow your stuff as long as I put it back. They all look really cool.”

You still aren’t sure, but you start to put the pieces together in your mind: you were ‘gone’ for five years, this girl is living with Pepper, and if you guessed right, ‘daddy’ is Tony.

She’s your sister.

“It’s okay, and thanks,” she gives you a small hug which you return slightly, you feel a smile growing on your face since you find her really precious. “It’s nice to meet you, Morgan.

“Hey, so, there’s this weirdo man downstairs and he wants me and Pep - mom to do an errand for him,” you say to her once you remember you have to go. Morgan nods understandingly, “we can play and catch up when I get back, okay? That’s a promise.”

She runs back to her room and you get suited up, power at its maximum.

“Welcome back, Ms. Stark.”

“Glad to be. I missed you - actually, how Dad’s doing? Is he alright?”

“Mr. Stark had a concussion earlier, but as of now he is waking up again.”

“Oh,” you exhale and start worrying about him a bit. “Okay. That’s fine, I guess,”

Once you go back down a portal was already open and a nanny by the door (you assumed for Morgan). You fly right in before it closed up.

“Holy shit.”

There's armies coming out of many different portals, from people to aircrafts, to mutants. You all gather at the Avengers compound, or what used to be the compound.

“I forgot to mention,” you point out and Pepper turns to you, “That’s a pretty badass suit.”

You could feel Pepper roll her eyes from inside her suit. You follow her as she flies all the way to the front.

Your eyes dart everywhere to look for Tony. And there he is, getting up from the ground and flying back to the Avengers. He looks worn out, ragged, tired; you notice before his iron head covered him up. There’s so many people that you doubt he even saw you. God, you miss him so much.

Cap, Thor, Rhodey, Clint, Peter, Wanda, Bucky, Sam, Bruce - or Hulk, everyone was there, but where’s Natasha?

“Avengers!” Cap shouts, a hand extended as he catches Mjolnir without stumbling - whoa, what? - “assemble.”

That’s it. The battle begins.

It's your first time using your backup suit, you obviously didn’t have the time to test it out first. Good thing it works fine.

You're flying around, shooting enemies whenever they get in your way and helping anyone on your side who needed it.

What got you confused (not that you were complaining) was how the other Avengers were a bit too happy to see you than they normally should. You brushed it off though, they probably just love you so much like you love them.

“Aye, mind if you launch me? I need to be over there,” a raccoon holding a gun states and pointed to the direction. You recognize him immediately.

"Sure thing, bud,” you obliged, grabbing him, levitating off the ground and to thrust your iron arm forward like a cannon.

After a while the battle died down a bit and you saw Tony embracing Peter in a distance.

You smile sadly. Peter’s your best friend, but you really wish that it’s you who Tony was hugging.

Your jealousy fades when one of those giant flying Chitauri makes its way to their direction, ready to attack.

“Friday, activate the mega blaster,” you fly closer to the pair.

“Which one?” For fuck’s sake, Friday,

“The biggest one, please, now!” Once the blaster's out, you aim at the monster who's literally meters away from Tony and Peter and fire. When it crashes to the ground lifeless, you land beside them.

“Sorry, that was,” you pant, opening up your iron helmet. “It was literally going to eat you guys, so, uh, sorry for ruining the moment.”

Peter smiles, nodding and Tony looks at you as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

He hadn’t seen you in so long that your sudden presence fucking took his breath away. You're here, alive and back. If you guys weren’t in such a situation he’d go on and tell you about all the things you missed.

“I’m probably in trouble, right? I mean.. look Dad, I’m in a battlefield,” you laugh nervously, shooting a creature from the corner of your eye. “In my defense, Doctor Strange was the one who came to me, I didn’t-”

You're cut off when Tony wraps his arms around you. Right now he didn’t care about your excuses as to why you were here. But if Tony from five years ago could see you now he’d definitely ground you for life and take away your lab privileges.

“You’re doing great.” his voice slightly muffled from the hug. You let out a squeak, not expecting that from him at all. Tony smiles and plants a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, kid.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

The battle carries on and you're being swarmed by more enemies. You got really beaten up as it went on - what really knocked you out was when Thanos’ spaceship rained fire.

Unable to get shelter, you try your best to dodge everything that came out of the ship. You could barely see anymore because of the chaos and the clouds of dust everywhere.

“Ms. Stark, you need to get somewhere safe! Your heart rate is also increasing dangerously fast.”

“Not - not helping, Fri-” you get cut off when one of the blue fires hit you on the head, sending you to the ground unconscious.

----

“[Y/N], come on buddy, you need to get up,” Peter. He found your body a while after he handed the gauntlet to Captain Marvel. The battle's still ongoing, but he’s focusing on keeping you away from it while he waits for you to wake up.

You quickly sit up and gasp for air, looking at your best friend. “Did we win? Did we - wait, Peter, look out!” You push him out of the way when a group of monsters make their way to both of you. They turn into dust before they could lunge forward, however.

“...what the..?”

He helps you up and the both of you run to where Rhodey and Tony are at. You nearly break down when you see the state he's in.

“Mr. Stark? Hey - Mr. Stark? It’s Peter... and look, Y/N’s here- she’s okay, sir-” While Peter tries to talk to him you kneel down beside him, placing a hand on his arm while you do your best not to cry.

Then he looks at you, mouthing it’s okay.

But you know it isn’t. On your part, anyway. It seems really selfish but you don’t know what you’d do without him. Tony has always been there for you, he always kept you going.

Pepper kneels beside you, gave you a reassuring look before looking at her husband. “Friday?”

“Life functions critical.” That makes you whimper, pulling yourself closer to Tony.

“Tony, look at me. We’re going to be okay. You can rest now.”

You nod, sniffling, resting your head on his shoulder lightly. “I love you. I’ll take good care of Morgan, dad. Don’t worry.”

When the light of his arc reactor goes out, that’s when both you and Pepper break down, comforting each other around Tony’s lifeless body.

----

Dresses really weren’t your thing. So were skirts and shorts. But you wore a short, black dress for Tony’s funeral. You didn’t care if you weren’t comfortable, it was for him. You’d do anything for him.

You barely got any sleep since the battle, you couldn’t now that he was gone. It didn’t feel right. You had no idea how to cope, how you could move on from this.

What made things worse is when Steve and Thor told you about what happened to Natasha, that’s why you didn’t see her in the battle. She gave her own life just to get everybody else back.

You must’ve zoned out again because Rhodey and Pepper are now setting something up in the living room. An Iron Man helmet.

“S’that going to be new decoration?” You force out a chuckle, sniffling afterwards, sitting down on the sofa behind them.

Iron Man’s eyes light up when Rhodey presses a button. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Tony sitting on a chair, a hologram.

He turns it off before hologram Tony could say a word. “That’s,” he sighs, “that’s for later.”

“I can’t do this,” you get up, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t. I’ll - I’ll break down, I know I will. Can I take a walk? Please?”

“Take your time.” Steve gives you a comforting smile.

Pepper nods. “Some air would do you good. Be back when it’s time, okay?”

You take longer calming yourself down in the woods near the cabin. You cried, you mumbled to yourself, paced back and forth,

Cause a picture is all that I have, To remind me that you're never coming back If I picture it now it just makes me sad And right now I just wish you were here.

You stop when you heard leaves crunching. Peter just arrived, along with his aunt.

“Hey,” Peter silently greets, pulling you into a hug. It's obvious he isn’t getting any sleep either. “Are you okay?”

“Of course not,” you murmur, pulling away. “I should probably head back inside.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

You slowly walk to the porch, stopping when you hear Tony’s voice inside. You decide to just wait outside the door, you definitely don’t want to see his face, not right now, it'd be too painful.

“If we pull this thing off, and get everyone back,” Tony pauses. “Tell [Y/N] I left something in her room, yeah?”

Then he does the secret rhythm to a clap only the both of you memorized and knew.

You assume he’s done, since you don’t hear his voice anymore after that. Everyone goes out of the house and you hold Morgan’s hand as all of you walk to the lake for one last goodbye.

After that you talked to everybody who came for a while. Bruce, Steve, Clint and Thor tried to get you to look at the bright side, which you appreciated, you met the rest of the guardians who came, Doctor Strange who gave you a sympathetic look and apologized for your loss, and the guy you remembered Tony told you about, the one who helped him when his suit powered down and got stranded years ago. You made a mental note to ask him to hang out with you and Peter sometime.

“Hey... I’m heading to bed now,” you inform Pepper, Happy and Rhodey (both men were staying at the cabin for a few days) who're in the living room staring at the fireplace.

Before you go to your own room you check up on Morgan, who’s fast asleep. She's wearing her little Iron Man glove, pressed to her chest. She doesn’t deserve this.

Your room is still unpacked and they just sort of removed your bed from the compound and moved it here. You sit on the bed, already thinking of ways to move on that you know wouldn’t work anyway.

You remember your father claimed he had something for you here, so taking a deep breath, you clap the secret rhythm,

“Dad... you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you whine, covering your face with both palms.

Another hologram.

“Hey legacy,” Tony chuckles, looking at you. You shake your head at the ridiculous nickname, also avoiding his eyes, which you’re sure would make you cry if you did look. “I... uh, this is just a little video. For you. Sure you won’t see this but... I like to pretend I could still talk to you. I miss you, a lot.”

You fiddle with your hands, still not looking at him but you listen to him talk.

“But we’ll see. We’ll figure something out. I hope to see you soon, [Y/N]. I love you.”

He has both hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a warm smile, before disappearing.

But he reappears a second after.

“We’re doing it tomorrow. The... uh, time travel thing.”

The stress in his voice make you look up at him, but this time he isn’t looking at you. It seems like he was pacing while he recorded it.

“I just finished doing one of these for, well, in case I somehow die while we attempt to do it. If you think about it, it’s highly likely. Going back in time, yada yada, possibilities are endless,” he sighs. “But I figured I owe my firstborn a final message if that happens, right?”

“Honestly I feel,” he makes motions with his hands. “Bit anxious... right now. We were the only ones helping each other out when one of us felt this way but... seeing as you’re not here, I just have to deal with it.”

“[Y/N], look at me,” Tony crouches down to be in level with you, like he knew you were actually here watching this, like he was actually there, the one talking to you. But it’s how he programmed it. “You wanna know what my best decision in life was?”

“Yeah?”

“Taking you in,” he smiles. “When we fight you always bring up that I had the choice not to, and you were right. But guess what? I have no regrets.”

You smile, blinking back tears.

“You mean the world to me, I just feel like I don’t say it enough,” Tony cocks his head slightly, still looking at you. “We both have no idea what the afterlife’s like but that won’t matter, I’ll always look after you girls.”

“Speaking of which, your sister reminded me so much of you when she was first born, god, I still wish you were around for that. I know you’ll love her, she’s just brilliant. Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“Maybe there’s a way to get you back,” Tony sighs at your words, already knowing that it’s not going to work out. “I - I just need some time. I can bring you back, Dad-”

He places a hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t feel it, but you did feel a light breeze. “The deed’s already done, honey. Don’t worry about me. Come on, don’t cry,” he kneels in front of you as you let yourself go, crying hard into your palms.

Don't say everything's meant to be, Cause you know it's not what I believe Can't help but think that it should've been me In the end, I just wish you were here.

You open your eyes when you hear a beep, even Tony turns around. The recording had ten seconds left. “The recording’s about to end, [Y/N],”

“I love you tons,” you whisper, looking up at him.

Tony smiles, caressing your cheek. “I love you 3,000.”

Yeah, they say you're in a better place, Either way I still wish you were here ‘Cause they say you're in a better place In the end, I just wish you were here.

----

so here’s part 2. I miss him y’all, it’s missing-Tony-so-much hours for me

just like the first part, I got the title from this amazing song by Neck Deep which you can listen to here.

[taglist: @creation-magician (which I would like to personally thank for wanting to be tagged)]

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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could you do 🎂 1 and 26 for fred? like maybe she was best friends with the twins at hogwarts and joined the order with them and she went to get harry and got hurt? also loved the charlie one!! you write so well!!

Thank you! This one is so cute omg I really liked writing this!! Also I’m glad you liked the Charlie one!! It was one of my favorite to write so far!

Warning: this mentions blood/blood loss so if that makes you feel icky or triggers you please do not read!

Title: Wounded Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Prompt: That kiss, did you really mean it / Hold my hand, you’re going to be fine

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

“Scared, Y/N?” Fred teases, coming up behind her.

Y/N rolls her eyes and turns around to face Fred. “As if, Weasley. Although I reckon you look a little nervous,” she fires back with a smile.

Fred is always trying to get under Y/N’s skin and she always has something to say back to him. It started first year during flying lessons, when Fred teased her about not being able to get her broom to fly into her hand while he hovered above the ground. Y/N immediately called the broom up and got into the air, flying circles around Fred. They’ve been friends ever since and always trying to one up each other.

“Cut the chatter and get in here,” Mad Eye Moody scolds, gesturing for Y/N and Fred to follow him through the door of Privet Drive.

Y/N follows behind him excitedly, ready for her first official Order mission. Fred had been the one to tell her about the Order and what they were trying to do, and she immediately joined with him and George. The world around them was getting darker, and she couldn’t just sit back and watch it get ruined. Tonight, they’re going through with their most important, and dangerous, mission yet – removing Harry from his childhood home.

“Race you back to the burrow?” Y/N teases Fred twenty minutes later. Her, Fred, George and four others have disguised themselves as Harry using Polyjuice potion, and they’ve paired up with other members of the order to defend the real Harry and make sure he reaches the Burrow alive and in one piece. Y/N will be on a Thestrals with Fred’s older brother Bill, while he’ll be flying his broom close by his dad.

“You’re on,” he grins. Fred winks at Y/N as she settles in behind Bill, and with Mad Eye Moody’s signal, they’re off.

“On your left!” Bill shouts, and Y/N immediately fires a spell at the death eater approaching them.

“Thanks!” The burrow is just barely in sight and Y/N is exhausted. The second they flew into the air death eaters were everywhere, and Y/N has been casting curses and spells left and right to keep her and Bill safe. Her and Bill should have encountered Fred and Arthur twenty minutes ago, and she can’t help but feel worried that something happened to Fred.

“Y/N, watch out!” Bill calls.

Y/N turns just in time to see a death eater pointing his wand at her. A jet of orange light comes out of their wand as Y/N casts stupefy, and as the death eater falls away she feels a searing pain in her thigh. “Holy fuck,” she groans, leaning against Bill’s back. Y/N gasps as she looks at her leg to find an arrow sticking out of it, with blood slowly seeping from the wound.

“Fucking hell,” Bill curses when he looks back to see what’s wrong. “Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N. Just hang on, we’re almost there.”

Y/N starts to cry as pain radiates from the wound and as the Thestrals hits the ground running her leg jostles, causing her to shout in pain.

“Help! Someone come help me!” Bill shouts as they reach the front yard of the Burrow. “Just a bit longer, Y/N hang on.” Bill sighs in relief as Fred and Arthur come running out the front door towards them.

“What the fuck happened?” Fred asks as he runs towards Y/N. Her face is pale, and it makes his stomach lurch. Just moments ago, he’d been preparing to rub it in her face that he’d won their race, and now it looks like she’s on deaths door.

“I don’t know she got hit by some curse and now there’s an arrow in her leg. We’ve gotta get her inside it’s bleeding a ton.”

Fred watches as Arthur slowly grabs Y/N from the Thestrals and holds her in his arms. He winces as she cries out, his eyes trained on the place where the arrow sticks out from her body. The jeans she’s wearing are soaked with blood and the tear tracks on her face glisten in the moonlight. Everything he’s ever wanted to say to Y/N comes to the forefront of his mind as he follows his father back into the house.

“Take her upstairs, put her on my bed,” Fred insists as they enter the living room. George is already sprawled out on the couch, his own wound slowly healing. Molly had given him a potion to put him to sleep, and there’s no way they’ll be able to move him quickly.

Y/N cries out again as Arthur places her on the bed, and Fred quickly rushes to her side. He kneels by her head and grabs her limp hand, squeezing it tightly. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N,” he coos, reaching up to stroke her hair with his free hand. “Just hold my hand, you’re going to be fine.”

Y/N uses what strength she has left to squeeze Fred’s hand in return. “Fred,” she whispers, before everything goes dark.

When Y/N opens her eyes, next sunlight is streaming in through the blinds. She can feel the tight bandage wrapped around her leg but doesn’t dare look down to examine the damage. She can feel Fred’s hand in hers resting on the bed, and when she turns her head Fred is sitting on the floor, his back up against the nightstand, fast asleep.

Y/N squeezes his hand tightly, and when his eyes flutter open she smiles at him. “Morning sleepyhead.”

“Y/N,” Fred sighs in relief. Before he can truly think about what he’s doing he leans forward and kisses her softly.

Y/N kisses Fred back eagerly, butterflies erupting in her stomach. When Fred pulls back she’s breathless and if she wasn’t laying down Y/N is sure she would collapse onto the floor. They just look at each other for a moment, both unsure of what to say next. “That kiss, did you really mean it?” she asks timidly.

“Mean it in what way?” Fred responds quietly, squeezing her hand.

“Like did you mean it to be a holy shit I’m glad you’re alive because you’re my friend kiss or a holy shit I’m glad you’re alive because I’m in love with you kiss?”

Fred bites his lip. “The second one,” he admits honestly. “Unless you want it to mean the first one, because even though I really want it to be the second one I can’t handle you not being in my life in some way so I can-.”

“I love you too,” Y/N says with a laugh, cutting off his anxious rambling. “Now shut up and kiss me again, you idiot.”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley drabble #Fred Weasley fluff #bsd

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lassieposting · 3 years ago

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Ok...u got my attention...💘 for skuldugery and cassandra

OH BOY I GOT ONE

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

Okay so when they first meet, it's way back before he met Skugwife, when he was on-again-off-again with China and Ghastly and making his way up the ranks in the Sanctuary army.

A dashing young officer with an impressive inheritance and a string of victories under his belt would've been prime 1600s marriage real estate. They meet at some Sanctuary party, dance together a bit, get along very well. Skug was already arrogant and vain, but he was also charming and funny, which was a bonus, and they were social equals - she's from a wealthy, landed family herself. She was interested in him and they were in each other's social circle from around his mid-20s to when he met Wifey and fell disgustingly in love, at which point she conceded defeat and let him go.

It's actually Gordon who brings them back into each other's lives in the 1980s. They've both changed a lot since they last saw one another and she's not really sure what to make of him. He's colder, more serious, and she knows he's lost...pretty much everyone. When she tells him to come by anytime, he's polite but detached and basically says that's not a good idea, so she doesn't expect to see much of him in the future. But he comes back some months later with a difficult case to ask if she's seen anything, and from that point on they work together sporadically, if she has any visions that might be useful to him.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

They rekindle their flirtation after he comes back in Dark Days. He's not okay, not in the slightest, and she can see it. He's faking being okay, but he's overselling it. She knew him through the period where his mother was killed, and he tried to play that off the same way. He ends up driving out to her cottage at some ungodly hour of the early morning because he's falling apart and he doesn't really have anywhere else to go. she takes him in, sits with him until long after the sun comes up and lets him talk it out until he's dozing off where he's sitting.

By the War of the Sanctuaries, they're Together.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

She was rather taken with him when they first met. She liked to think of herself as the future Mrs Captain Pleasant. He was attracted to her, but also otherwise entangled and considerably less invested.

When they get back together, it's more. Falling in love at the same time.

where their first date was and what it was like

They've spent a lot of time together, usually at her cottage, already. But he gets it into his head he wants to take her on an actual date, and she's a homebody, so he decides to make her dinner. It's kind of a disaster because he hasn't had to cook anything in hundreds of years - he follows a recipe, but he still manages to burn it and get food absolutely everywhere with the electric whisk. He's pretty frustrated and upset that he ruined it, but she finds it hilarious, and they end up cuddling on the couch with takeout and a movie.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

She gives him a key. She prefaces it with a big speech about how it doesn't have to mean anything, he just spends so much time there that he might as well be able to let himself in, and she wants him to have somewhere he really feels safe and comfortable and her place can be that for him if he wants, and -

He kisses her mid-speech, so she never gets to finish it.

who proposes first

He does. She'd never bring up marriage to him, when she knows how his first one ended. She can't be completely sure he's done grieving his first love, and she doesn't want to hurt him, so it's better not to bring it up.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

It's not a secret at all. Valkyrie still goes nearly a decade without noticing.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

They're in bed together first thing in the morning. He doesn't remember the last time he was this relaxed and happy. He watches her wake up and she cuddles closer into him with the squinty morning-sun-in-your-face look and he never thought he'd love this much again and it just. Comes out.

who’s more dominant

Neither, really. They're very much a team. She tempers his recklessness, and he gives her a nudge out of her comfort zone. She has the same ability Wifey had, though, to wrangle him without ever letting on that she's doing it.

where their first kiss was and what it was like

He was totally drained after unloading a year's worth of torture on her post-Dark Days, and she was trying to comfort him. It doesn't lead anywhere - she puts him to bed on her couch and stays with him so he feels safe enough to switch off and sleep.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

She buys him a hideous Christmas sweater the first year they're officially together, but has yet to successfully bully him into wearing it.

how into pda they are

They're your average couple. If she drops in on him at the Sanctuary, she'll kiss him goodbye. He'll put his arm around her when they're walking, or let her hold his hand. But neither of them is an exhibitionist.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

He does. He could easily just redirect the rain, but she likes nature stuff and that includes getting soaked through on occasion, kissing him in the rain, and splashing through puddles.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

Her cottage, more often than not. He'll happily take her out whenever she wants to, but she's a homebody at heart and she's more fond of going for long walks in the countryside near her home or cooking together, watching old movies, that sort of thing.

who’s more protective

Him, by a million miles. She doesn't necessarily like the amount of violence in his life, but to her he's very much the capable soldier who can look after himself. But she is a pacifist and very into the hippie ideology, so especially after the Night of Knives, she relies on him to protect her. He knows damn well that the only reason he didn't lose her the same night Finbar died is because he just happened to be sleeping over and the would-be assassin got more than he bargained for.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

Probably circa KOTW? It can't have been Death Bringer, or he'd have asked her to the Requiem Ball.

if they argue about anything

Not often. She's one of the most emotionally healthy people in this series, and she's the closest Skulduggery Pleasant has ever gotten to therapy. She's all about communication and talking it out.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Skug.

who steals whose clothes and how often

She steals his jackets and coats. She'll wear something just a little too light for the weather, so that he'll inevitably offer her his suit jacket. It's an old way of courting that she finds very endearing.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

They bring out the Old Person in each other. They like to go for long walks, and picnics, and dancing to old gramophone records. They read books and bicker about how much they did or didn't enjoy them. She likes to garden and paint, and he's not half bad at art either, so they'll paint each other and laugh about it.

how long they stay mad at each other

They don't. They argue very little in the first place, but Cassie is very communicative, so she usually manages to head off any potential arguments before they even start.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

She has hot chocolate, and he has his black.

if they ever have any children together

No - but if he was ever going to have children with anyone else, it should probably be Cassie. She's sensible, level-headed and emotionally healthy, so he could be the same loving-but-irresponsible dad he was with Skugbab.

if they have any special pet names for each other

She's "Cassie" and he's usually "sweetheart" or "lovey".

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

He "moves into"/spends most of his time at her little hippie hobbit hole, so nothing matches, tapestries everywhere, Interesting™ colour schemes, fuckin...crystals and tarot cards and witchy shit everywhere. They both have to make some compromises ("You don't bug me about making the bed and I won't play the banjo in the shower")

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

Very inappropriate to talk about at parties.

He's a Christmas grouch, but he did get two days off work, so they basically spent the entire time eating, fucking or fast asleep.

what their names are in each other’s phones

She's just "Cassie" but that makes her one of the few people in his phone not to be "Firstname Lastname". He's "SP".

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

They can never really make plans for set days or times because of his incredibly erratic work schedule, but they make time every week to just spend time together. Unless the world is ending, which it usually does at least once a year.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

She falls asleep first at a sensible hour, and wakes up when he gets in. If she sleeps through him coming home, he'll stay up for an hour or two to work on a case, but if he wakes her, he'll go straight to bed and she'll go back to sleep with him holding her.

After the Night of Knives, she gets very anxious and stressed about being alone, especially when she hears the door open. So he'll call and wake her when he's leaving the Sanctuary, so that she knows to expect him home, and he's at the end of the phone any time she wants to get hold of him.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

He's the big spoon like 70% of the time, but she's not opposed to letting him be the little spoon at all. Even the strongest general sometimes needs a good snuggle.

who hogs the bathroom

Cassie likes to take a book into the bath and spend hours in there. He'll come in and out as he pleases and sometimes do her hair for her or swipe bubbles on her nose.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

Skug. This is, apparently, one of the greatest benefits to having him around all the time. He's glad she's comfortable enough with him to be honest that she's using him for his spider removal skills.

#skulduggery pleasant #sp headcanons #cassdug #long post

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sayonarasanity · 4 years ago

Text

Chance With You

Summary: It is hard to see beauty in everything. Especially after a life as a soldier who had witnessed so many of his fellow comrades’ and thousands of people’s death. But Hanji wears that word as an outfit every day. It is drawn aesthetically in the way her eye lights up despite everything, in the way she examines each living being she finds in the garden, in the way her curiosity never leaving her mind. She is neither a tree nor a bird. She is a forest; she has a universe and a variety of colours in her land. Beauty is a butterfly that has perched upon her shoulder and it never leaves her side.

Link to AO3

notes: for the first part of this story I was kind of inspired by this ask. I highly recommend you to check that out as well also for Hanji's short hair see this post

A house, surrounded by some young, some old trees and green grass, with a little garden outside colourful with flowers, herbs and vegetables of different species. In the morning, the birds chirp just beyond his window, they welcome the new coming day with a melody in their tongue. The sun illuminates the sky brighter as if it had a mind of its own and it thought that a world after a gruesome war, painful sacrifices and unreasonable hatred deserves to shine more.

The familiar touch of warm fingers traces the line of scars on his face while he is still half-asleep, lying one side of his face buried on the pillow. The fingers move upwards to comb his hair back, then they slide downwards to his bare shoulders, to the space between his shoulder blades where old, pale wounds are inked permanently. Then a pair of lips are pressed on his temple, they are warm, and the touch is undeniably real. If it wasn’t, he would pray for it to go away, to disappear. Because if it wasn’t, ripping his heart out of its place would be less painful to open his eyes to the empty side of a twin bed.

“Morning, handsome.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs. Insomnia post-war still has its fair share of control over him. It is like a friend that he never intended to be close to, yet he is stuck with it inside the same cell in the same prison.

But Levi post-war had something else against it. Someone else, a third one in the cell to be accurate.

She presses her lips on his shoulder, and he half opens his right eye then shifts his head a little so that he can see her properly with his only functional, left one. Her dispersed, brown hair is the first thing that comes into his view. Then her eyes, one wounded like him and the other glittering with the daylight and her smile when she rests her head on her pillow.

“Hey,” he says with a rusty, morning voice.

Hanji reaches out with her hand to cup his cheek, her thumb caresses the scars again, goes over his blind eye then fixes his brow. “How romantic,” she sighs. “We match like broken glass.” Then her hand moves down to his undercut, her fingers warm on his rough, shaved skin. “Maybe I should get an undercut too.”

He touches the old scar on her left eye, and then her hair with his three remaining fingers. It is shorter than before, now it ends a little below her ear, curling on her nape. “It would suit you.”

“You think so?” she asks a mischievous smile shapes on the corner of her lips.

“Yeah,” he tries to suppress the smile, but his lips move slightly, nonetheless.

“Armin and Onyankopon will come for a visit today,” Hanji says.

“For what?”

“They said they had something to show us,” she shrugs one shoulder. “And that it was a surprise.”

Levi cannot think of anything. Nor his or Hanji’s birthday are close, or any holiday is on sight. Levi wonders if it is Gabi and Falco’s doing. Though as far as he knew they were away, travelling.

He raises himself on one elbow and gets his face closer to her neck to press his lips on her skin. “How much time do we have?” he murmurs as he puts his right arm next to her head to balance himself and intertwines their fingers with his other hand while leaving another kiss to her jaw.

“I don’t know,” she sighs as he kisses the sensitive skin under her ear. “An hour or so, I guess.”

“Good enough,” he whispers and finally catches her lips with his own.

“Good morning, Captain,” Armin greets him when he steps inside the kitchen. He wears a black suit; his hair is combed neatly, and he carries himself with a maturity the war he had to face so early in his life and his age has brought about. There are no traces of the insecure, irresolute boy upon him any more. But his smile and the shiny blue eyes are still the same.

“Morning,” he responds as Onyankopon and Hanji follows Armin into the kitchen. They all gather around the kitchen table. He is not a captain or anything anymore, but he lets it slide whenever Armin or one of the other kids call him that. It feels nostalgic and works well as a reminder that everything that had happened wasn’t a daydream or a shitty nightmare but an unfortunate reality.

“How do you feel, Levi-san?” Onyankopon asks, sitting across from him. He too wears a suit, a light grey one and has a matching bowler hat on his head.

“Not bad,” he says sipping from his tea.

Hanji serves their visitors two cups of tea then sits down next to him. “He actually means, I feel very good and I’m glad to be fucking alive, Onyankopon. Thanks for asking, what about you?”

Armin hides a silent chuckle behind his fist, pretending to be coughing while Onyankopon smiles and even laughs quietly. “I’m great, thank you.”

“Good,” Hanji beams.

“Stop translating me,” Levi says, glaring at her. “We speak the same fucking language.”

“Yes, we do,” she approves then adds, raising her brows with a knowing look. “But they don’t.”

“Tch,” he grunts and then sees the two younger men watching them with a weird expression on their faces. Half smiling, half questioning. His body tenses without control, and he grips the arm of the wheelchair. “Armin,” he decides to ask, just to be sure. “Do you see Hanji here?”

The blond boy blinks in confusion and stares at Hanji for a few seconds. “Yes, of course, Captain. She sits next to you.”

“Right,” he sighs.

A hand slides slowly on his back, drawing circles on top of his shirt. It immediately does its magic. His strained body relaxes under her touch. “No need to be confused,” Hanji explains, and Levi doesn’t look at her, but he just knows that she is smiling. “He is just making sure that I’m not a ghost and he hasn’t gone batshit crazy.”

Levi nor approves or rejects this accusation as he quietly proceeds to drink his tea. No one plans a murder out loud.

“Well,” Onyankopon starts, he sounds a little nervous and when Levi looks at him, he sees that his expression is also the same. “Don’t worry, Levi-san. She is as real as the greys in your hair.”

The hand on his back stops its movements, Armin freezes with the teacup half lifted to his mouth, his eyes are wide and terrified and for several seconds nobody even dares to fucking breathe.

Levi feels Hanji’s body shaking. He knows she is trying to suppress her laughter. Onkankopon opens his mouth, ready to explain himself. “I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Levi cuts in. “They both mean that I’m still fucking alive.”

They go outside after breakfast to see what Armin and Onyankopon came here today for. Levi had only been getting used to the midday sun dazzling his vision when he heard Hanji shrieking with joy and excitement.

“Is it what I think it is?” She exclaims bending over a black thing that he had likened to a wheelchair. He doesn’t understand the reason why she is so thrilled over it.

Onyankopon joins Hanji to explain the gadget while Armin stays next to him. “The hell is that?”

“It is a special wheelchair, Captain,” Armin explains. “Hanji-san had told us that you were sick of being pushed everywhere and we had been thinking about a solution. It took a while though,” he says sheepishly. “We’ve been kind of busy. But it’s finally completed and ready to be used.”

“This was her idea?” Levi asks, watching the excitement radiating through her body. Especially her eyes are shining even brighter than the sun hanging on top of their heads.

“Well, kind of.” Hanji sits on the wheelchair, curious idiot, and presses upon some things on the arm of the chair then screams when the thing suddenly moves forward on its own. Levi blinks his eyes, surprised. “I think she didn’t want you to feel like you were being a burden to her, so she didn’t directly ask for this, and to be honest I already had an idea in my mind when she had talked to me. So, yeah, this happened.”

Levi continues to watch Hanji who is moving forwards, backwards and to the left and right. Laughing and smirking like a child in an amusement park. “It’s amazing!” she yells. “Armin, you are a genius!”

The boy laughs and clears his throat seemingly embarrassed. “I’m glad you liked it, Hanji-san.”

“Levi!” she jumps up, and walking to where he is, she catches his hands. “Come on, you have to try it!”

She helps him get up from his wheelchair. “You know I can still walk on my own, right, four-eyes?” It takes quite an effort though, but he can.

“Don’t ruin my only excuse to touch you in public, shorty,” Hanji replies as they take slow steps towards the other, more technological wheelchair.

“You don’t need an excuse to touch me,” he says.

“Oww,” she coos. “How sweet of you—”

“Because I don’t want to be touched,” he goes on as he sits down. “In public.”

“Cruel, old man,” Hanji mutters, shaking her head.

“I’m not old, I’m only in my forties,” he objects, glaring at her. “Stop acting as if I’m a walking funeral.”

“Yes, of course, grandpa,” Hanji pats his head and Levi slaps it away.

Hanji and Armin quickly show him how the thing works and apparently it doesn’t require much of a genius to understand. He pushes upon the buttons hesitantly at first, moving only inches here and there as the three of them watch him expectantly and with an annoying curiosity. It is actually quite useful, at least he won’t need Hanji to push him whenever he wants to go out for some fresh air or he won’t need to overuse his arms. It is also more comfortable, and there is even a place on the arm to put his teacup.

“Did you like it?”

Levi looks up to see them expecting his answer. Hanji was the one to ask the question, yet it is obvious that the other two are also waiting to hear what he has to say. “Yeah,” he says causing them to take a huge sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

“I’m so happy to hear that you liked it.” Onyankopon smiles and Armin nods.

“Come on now, take a stroll.” Hanji claps her hands excitedly. “Let’s see what this baby is capable of.”

Levi had been planning to just do that. There is enough space in the yard to test the machine properly. However, before he sets on to do what Hanji has offered, he looks into her eye, intensely enough for her to frown and her expression to change into confusion. Armin and Onyankopon had already started to talk with each other and are too much preoccupied to realise what is going on. So, with that bringing him more courage, he brings one hand down and pats his knee.

She is quite surprised and a little embarrassed as a cute flush colour her cheeks and she laughs nervously, combing her hair behind her ear with one hand. “Okay.”

“Have you put on weight?” Levi questions when Hanji sits down between his knees and curls her knees to her stomach. She secures herself by putting her feet next to his leg.

“Shut up,” she chides him and wraps an arm around his neck.

He holds her by the waist with his left arm, just in case. “Ready?”

She nods and sends him a toothy grin. “Always.”

Levi presses upon the button and they move forward. There is no hesitation in his control as the machine goes faster this time, stumbling when the wheels go over some rocks or little bumps on the lawn. Hanji is ecstatic. The wind ruffles her short hair, eyes wide and lips parted slightly. It is hard to see beauty in everything. Especially after a life as a soldier who had witnessed so many of his fellow comrades’ and thousands of people’s death. But Hanji wears that word as an outfit every day. It is drawn aesthetically in the way her eye lights up despite everything, in the way she examines each living being she finds in the garden, in the way her curiosity never leaving her mind. She is neither a tree nor a bird. She is a forest; she has a universe and a variety of colours in her land. Beauty is a butterfly that has perched upon her shoulder and it never leaves her side.

“Why have you stopped?” Hanji asks, and only then does he realize that they aren’t moving anymore and that he had been staring at her thinking how fucking lucky he is to have this, this thing which is called love.

Rather than answering, he holds her nape and brings her face closer, resting her forehead against his. Then closes his eyes and inhales the smell of the soap they share together, and the odour of the tea leaves still fresh on her breath.

He feels the moment her body melts, as her fingers touch his neck, and her thumb caresses his cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Just checking.”

She laughs quietly, then leans in for a brief, soft kiss on his lips ignoring the fact that they are being watched by two of their former subordinates. Levi uses that moment to press on one of the buttons which quickly swirls the wheelchair to the right with a sudden movement. The kiss is over in a second as Hanji yelps then laughs heartily tilting her head backwards. The sun shines on her skin, and a butterfly flies around her head, fluttering its wings.

And despite all those years that had passed, and despite the places, they had seen during the last few years Levi is still positive that it is the best fucking sound this crocked world has to offer.

That was just a dream.

Levi stirs and blinks his eyes open, then almost immediately winces at his stiff neck. Curses at himself as he lifts up a hand to massage the skin. He had fallen asleep on the couch again with the TV open. His mother would’ve killed him if she were here. Good thing he had moved away for his job. He is still too young for this shit.

Accepting the fact that he has to deal with a stiff neck for the rest of the day he sits up reaching for the remote control.

That was just a dream, says Michael Stipe on the TV. The clip is almost over and the song fades. Just a dream.

He turns it off.

It is almost five in the morning and there is not even a drop of sleep left in his system. He walks to the bathroom yawning and stretching his body. His neck and shoulders crackle and he wrinkles his face. “Goddamn.”

He washes his hands on the sink and then his face, getting rid of the crust around his eyes. After that, he uses a towel to dry his face, and when the towel covers the right side of his face and his right eye, and he stares before him to the mirror he stops.

Bits and pieces of strange images slide inside of his head, a man around his forties who is sitting on a wheelchair, a blind eye, a scar running up and down one side of his face, a woman with short hair and bright eyes, a house with a garden, the sound of genuine laughter, the feeling of—

He drops the towel to the side of the sink and breathes heavily. His fingers touch the smooth skin on his face absentmindedly and he stares at his reflection. And his, thankfully still functioning blue eyes stare at him back, like they have no idea what the hell is going on. He checks his right hand to see all of his fingers are in place. Then he bends a little and slaps his leg, taps his foot on the ground for good measure.

“Huh,” he murmurs then. “Weird.”

Shaking his head, he settles on the idea that whatever he had seen was just a bizarre albeit a little too much realistic dream and sends it away to the back of his mind. Although he realizes that after remembering it, he feels somehow lighter. It is similar to the feeling one gets when the winter quietly recedes, and the trees start to give life to little flowers. That feeling of being lightweight and carefree even if it is just for a little while.

He takes a shower.

When he sits back down on the couch after the shower with a cup of tea in his hand, he opens his laptop to deal with some unread emails piled up in his inbox. He leaves the tea on the coffee table, next to his phone and puts away the towel he had been using to dry his hair.

Minutes later, when he reaches for the cup, he catches the moment his phone lighting up with a new notification.

Are you awake? The text says.

Taking the phone in his hands he taps, what do you think?

It takes only a second for his phone to start ringing. “Hey,” he opens the call. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I’ve only just woken up,” she says but her voice sounds clear, dispersed of the sleepy roughness like she had been awake for a while. “Had a dream.”

“Bad one?” he asks as he takes a sip from his tea, his eyes scanning his laptop screen.

“Well, not really but kind of.” A pause, like she is lost in thought, then she adds. “I saw you.”

Levi hums, approvingly. “Naked?”

She lets out a loud, heartfelt laugh. “Oh my God, Levi. No,” she giggles breathlessly. “It wouldn’t be a bad dream if you were naked, you know.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “What was it then?”

“It was weird.” She stops again for a few seconds. “Like really weird.”

“You should tell me first if you want me to believe you, Hanji,” he says, not quite seriously.

She sighs. Then there is another pause which is relatively longer. Levi knits his brows and sits a little more upright. Something is wrong.

“What is it—”

“You were sitting on a wheelchair,” Hanji spills eventually, and the words die on his tongue. “And there were scars on your face. They were like war scars like you were once a soldier, a veteran. And—and you looked peaceful but also a little sad too. I don’t know. You were also older. Then there were two young people with you and a tall man. I don’t really remember their faces. I think you were travelling, you looked like tourists though I am not so sure but I-" she breaths fast, she hasn’t stopped talking for a while. “I wasn’t there.”

“Hanji,” he manages to say, despite the fact that he feels like he is choking in his own breath.

“It felt so wrong,” she goes on with a thin, frail voice. “I remember how I felt in the dream. I wanted to reach you, but I couldn’t, I tried to call out to you, but you didn’t hear. It was almost like… like I was a ghost. I was invisible. I was so desperate to just be with you and it felt so damn wrong that I wasn’t.”

“It was just a dream,” he whispers when he finds his voice. His body is frozen like he was paralyzed by something he had no control over.

“It felt so real.” He hears the tremble in her breath, and he notices how tight he had been holding the teacup. It is almost a miracle that it hadn’t been shattered to pieces yet.

“I had a dream too,” he decides to tell her.

“Oh?” She sounds interested and he is relieved to hear that her voice is back to its natural tone. “What did you see?”

So, he tells her the dream, not leaving much out except for the things he remembers himself feeling. She listens without almost a sound. He only occasionally hears her gasps and thoughtful hums and the quiet rhythm of her breaths. Only when he tells her that one of the men's in his dream was looking suspiciously similar to Armin, she adds thoughtfully that now that she thinks about it, the man in her dream was very much like Onyankopon. He flicks his fingers, of course, the other man was Onyanokpon. Though the identities of the two younger people remains a mystery.

When he finishes she is silent for a while. Possibly thinking.

“Hey, Levi,” she says, at last, drawing him out of his own deep thoughts. “Do you think we might’ve lived another life together?”

He examines the keyboard of the laptop for a handful of thoughtful seconds. “I don’t know,” he replies, honestly. Frankly, it is not that much of a long shot. “Maybe.”

“I don’t remember anything, though,” she continues. Levi imagines her lying on her back, watching the ceiling, her dark hair scattered on the pillow. “Do you?”

He almost says no, but then he recalls the dream again, and the way her skin reflected the morning sun, how her laughter touched the forgotten, drought lands in his heart and how lucky he felt to have her right beside. “I remember loving you,” he blurts, surprised even himself.

For an uncomfortably, and terrifyingly long second, she doesn’t respond. He chuckles, somewhat nervously. “Too much?”

“No,” she breathes. “No, it’s not. I just didn't expect you to say something like that.”

“Yeah,” he says dryly. “Tell me about it.”

“So, what do you think?” She asks, shifting the matter masterfully. “Which one was real?”

“How would I know?”

“Might be both,” she reasons. “Alternate realities and all that.”

“Yeah,” he mutters and shrugs although she can’t see it. “Why not?”

“Weird.” Levi holds the handle of the teacup and taps the table absently. “I wonder what happened. In my version, you know. Did I die before you? Maybe I was a soldier as well.”

Levi doesn’t like that possibility. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth but considering the two obscure dreams, it is likely. “You had a scar on your eye,” he says remembering his dream. “You most probably were.”

“Oh,” she sighs woefully. “Sorry for leaving you alone, then.”

“Yeah. Sorry for letting you die.”

She laughs. “Well, you probably had no other choice.”

He runs a hand over his face. What the actual fuck they are talking about in the goddamn wee hours? “Hanji, this doesn’t make any sense. Seriously, go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to go back to sleep. I keep remembering the dream. I wish I had seen your version.”

He wishes the same too, to be honest. “Forget about it. Just sleep.”

“I can’t forget about it,” her voice comes muffled, like a part of her mouth is pressed upon her pillow. “You looked so fine with that scar.”

He pinches his nose but cannot stop himself from grinning like a lovesick fool for the life of him. “Idiot.”

“Would you like to hear something disgustingly cheesy and cliché?” She asks, drowsily.

“No.”

She goes on as if he had never talked. “I’m your idiot.”

“Dear, fucking Lord,” Levi struggles very hard to keep his laughter inside. “Just sleep already.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs, she is most probably about to fall asleep. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“No, you will see me today.”

“Right, good, good,” she sighs, sleepily. “Later, then my handsome, my shorty, my one and only.”

“Dumbass,” he says affectionately but she is already snorting on the other side of the line.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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amphxtrite · 4 years ago

Text

2 • Hideaway.

chapter summary: Cedric finally catches the chance to talk to you, hidden away in the shelves of the library. What starts as an innocent attempt to befriend you ends in your walls crashing down, but Cedric is willing to change and listen.

series summary: alone almost everyday from the moment you were born, thrown to the side by everyone in society because of who your parents were and who you were said to be, a death eater. Your parents were to of the most powerful dark wizards ever known and because of that you were shunned everywhere you went. When the hufflepuff golden boy sees you for the first time and falls, but is he willing to be judged, feared, and hated, and how far will he go, To Be At Her Side.

warnings: swearing, flashback, breakdown, mentions of wanting to be dead.

taglist: @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @hoe4cedricdiggory @queenl04 @persephone-archives @0niko-san @annasdani @joalinbenefits @awritingtree

word count: 2.2k

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

Hideaway.

a place used as a retreat or a hiding place.

The Hogwarts library was a grand room, filled top to bottom with books of all kinds; Fantasy, romance, science fiction, history, anything you could imagine, could be found in the pages of a thick leather bound journal or thin paperback with a cracked spine.

Most students took the library for granted, preferring to spend their time at Hogsmeade or around the lake, but for you, anywhere with too many students was a disaster waiting to happen.

The library was your hide away, a retreat from the prying eyes of the student body. A place you could smile, read and do whatever you pleased without judgement. Madam Pince had practically left this place for you to roam, she was far enough away where you could be at peace from her constant shushing, and because of the lack of students most days, it was usually just you.

The past few months, you’d been slipping into the deep bookshelves to hide yourself, immersing yourself in the text of the wise witches and wizards who had come before you, reading their stories and spells and learning all they knew.

Your safe space became the closed shelves, home smelt like old books and wood, tranquility came in the form of muggle stories and old journals.

While you sat stowed away in a far corner of your hideaway, eyes scanning over the stories of old Greek heroes, Cedric sat in the great hall, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

He had barely seen you since the incident in potions all those months ago, winter had arrived, and he felt strange saying it, but he missed you.

He missed the girl whom he’d never even spoken to.

He missed your eyes filled with strength, holding yourself with pride despite what people believed.

He missed your hair that frames your face so perfectly.

He missed you although he barely knew who you were, and he wanted to see you more than just a quick glance in class before you disappeared through the door.

Cedric wasn’t proud of it, but he began following you after your last class with him, to see where you snuck away to.

The first couple tries resulted in him losing you through the crowd, but he’d managed to catch you slipping into the library on a Saturday morning during breakfast.

His hand hovers over the door knob, mentally debating if he should enter, try his luck at talking to you.

It was Saturday, Hogsmeade weekend. No one was going to be in the library today, he should be alright.

Pushing open the large door, Cedric readjusts his eyes to the dim lighting of the library paired with the bright white light streaming through the windows.

He made sure to be quiet, closing the door and slowly walking through the room, using his lightest steps in hopes not to be noticed.

Pince must’ve been at breakfast because besides the small ruffle of pages being turned in the distance. The library was completely silent.

A small yellow light flickered in the corner of Cedric’s eye, guiding him as you lay unaware, nose stuck in a book.

He follows the sound of paper being turned, and light breathing.

He begins his ascend up a stairway to the second story of the library and through the shelves where he saw the flicker of light.

His heart began to rush as your breathing grew closer. His hands were clenched into fists and his face was flushed. This was it, he was finally going to talk to you.

You sigh in content as you set down the muggle classic ‘To Kill A Mockingbird.’ You lay for a couple moments just staring at the ceiling as you shook your head, maybe you didn’t have it as bad as what others dealt with in the muggle world.

You sit up and pick up the small novel, slipping it back into place on the shelf.

“Harper Lee. I’ll have to read up on her.” You mumble to yourself as you skim the old spines.

Your thoughts are cut short when a shiver runs down your spine and you sense a presence behind you. Swiveling your body, only the sight of rows upon rows of books make themselves present, but you knew better than to believe you were alone.

“Who’s there?” You ask no one in particular.

You’re about to open your mouth again, when a mess of brown hair, pokes out from behind the science fiction shelf.

“H-Hello.” The boy spoke, finally revealing himself from the shelf.

You recognized the boy as the one from your classes. The one you gave the note too.

He doesn’t give up does he?

“If you’re here to make a snide remark, please leave me alone.” You sigh, pulling a random novel from the shelf as you turn and retreat back to your spot.

“I-I would do no such thing.” the boy states, beginning to follow you. “I’m Cedric, Cedric Diggory. We have potions and transfigurations together!”

“I’m aware.” You nod, trying to ignore him.

You almost felt bad for the boy, Cedric. He obviously hadn’t planned this far and his mind was frantically searching for words.

“Look I’m sorry for coming around like this I just-.”

“I don’t need your pity Diggory, now please just leave me be.” You remark, sitting on your blanket laid neatly on the floor.

“No please, y/n right?” Cedric smiles extending his hand.

“I know you know my name Cedric. Everyone at this bloody school does.” You hiss, voice laced with venom, surprising Cedric and causing him to step back.

You don’t mean to be cold, but you were not in the mood to make friends. This was bound to end in disaster, and you didn’t need to add another person to the long list of failed attempts.

“I-I understand, I was just-.”

“Oh that’s rich.” You scoff.

Cedric can see your attempt at being rude, but for some reason, he isn’t hurt by it.

Your eyes are jumping around him, refusing to meet him. Your leg is shaking up and down anxiously. Your hand is massaging the area on your chest your locket should be.

You were nervous.

Cedric takes a deep breath, refocusing himself.

“Look y/n, I just wanted to talk to you, try and become your friend.”

Your eyes flicker down, doubt and fear swim through them as you shuffle away from Cedric, trying to make yourself as small as possible, hoping he’d grow bored and leave.

“W-Where’s that locket you always wear?” He attempts, only causing you to flinch back further and drop your hand from your neck.

“None of your business Diggory.

Cedric wasn’t about to give up, and he took a seat on a chair at a desk not too far from you.

“I-I’m not interested in making friends.” You murmur, cursing yourself for your voice, cursing yourself for being weak.

“There’s no need to be afraid, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

Your mind is thrown into a distant memory that haunted you, and your head begins to spin.

The horrid day the aurors surrounded your house.

Your parents clutched you close to them as the wizards holding wands to their throats ripped you from their grasp.

“Take the child for a moment.”

Unfamiliar arms encased you before placing you on the carpet, leaving you as you bawled for your parents. You could only see them being disapparated away as your mother's locket appeared in your hand. Your last piece of her and your father.

The large boots of ministry workers and auror’s stood before you, discussing amongst themselves what to do with you.

“There’s no need to be afraid, I’m not here to hurt you.” One remarks, lifting you up, but holding you an arm lengths away.

“There’s no way people will be safe around her.”

“Her parents have probably already brainwashed her.”

“Can someone shut her up?!”

That was the last thing you heard before the sleeping charm was cast on you.

Your vision goes red, your fists clench and without thinking you pull your wand from your pocket and stomp forwards.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me, but you ruined my life! You’ll never know what I fucking went through because of your ignorance. I was a child you asshole, I was three and you fucking took my parents from me and left me to die at that god forsaken orphanage!” You scream, eyes clouding with tears as you press your wand closer to someone’s neck, but it slips your mind, who.

“They may have been evil, but they were all I ever had! You should’ve just killed me there, it would’ve been better than living this life!” You rage, bringing your wand to meet their neck.

Cedric stands with his hands beside his face in surrender, his breathing heavy as he watches your grip on your wand tighten and your tears stream down your face.

“Y/n, I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. P-Please don’t hurt me.”

Cedric��s eyes squeeze shut and after a couple moments of silence the sound of wood cluttering on the floor signals him to open them again.

Your hands fly to your face as your legs fail you, dropping you to the ground as you back yourself into the nearest wall, tucking yourself into a ball.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.” You sob, pulling your hair and using your palms to wipe the tears.

“Y/n!”

“No! Stay away from me! I’ll only make it worse.” You sniffle, trying to escape Cedric’s gaze.

“Please just leave me, I’m a monster Cedric, leave before I do hurt you.” You sob, hiding your face again.

Cedric ignores this and slides to the floor next to you, pulling a handkerchief from his book bag and holding it to you.

“No, y/n it’s not your fault. I made you remember something. Didn’t I?” Cedric sighs, sitting in front of you.

“Does it matter? I could have killed you! I’m just like them.” You shout, turning away from the hufflepuff as he turns with you.

“Y/n, look at me. Please look at me.” Cedric pleas.

“You’re afraid of me, admit it.”

“Y/n, I-”

“Admit it Cedric.” You cry, pushing yourself farther away.

“It's not your fault I made you cry y/n. I’m sorry.” Cedric apologizes, gently pulling your hands away from your tear stained cheeks.

“D-don’t touch me. I could have hurt you Cedric. I can’t forgive myself for that.” You whimper, turning your head to avoid his kind grey eyes.

“I’m fine y/n, look at me. You didn’t hurt me, just scared me is all.” Cedric smiles, attempting to reassure you.

“What have I done?”

Cedric’s smile drops at your comment.

“Y/n.” Cedric lifts his hand to wipe the tears from your face.

“No, please don’t.”

Cedric sighs and drops his hand, opting to take your hand into his instead.

“You could never hurt me y/n, please don’t do this to yourself.”

“Oh it’s too late for that Diggory. I’ve been doing this my whole life.” You smile incredulously.

“I’ll always be the daughter of the l/n’s. I’ll never be able to change that. And you saw what I did. I’m just like them.”

Cedric opens his mouth to deny your claim, but you cut him off.

“You know what's funny too? I still miss them, I still wish they’d come to hold me, but I guess that’s just the childhood loneliness talking.”

“Y/n.”

“How could they bring a child into this world after everything they did and expect it to be okay? How could they leave me here?” You whimper as a fresh wave of sadness hits you.

“I’ve been alone everyday of my life Cedric, treated like an animal, a threat, a monster.”

You take a deep breath and allow the tears to flow freely.

“I feel like I’m just payment of a debt my parents owe, l-like I’m nothing.”

Cedric listens intently, slowly stroking the back of your hand and offering the handkerchief to you again.

You shake your head.

“I-I’d like you to go now.” You mumble, retracting your hand from Cedric’s warm grasp.

“Please don’t push me away y/n. If you don’t want my pity I understand, but I really do want to be your friend.” Cedric smiles gently and extends his hand out to you.

Your eyes flash in fear and doubt again, but you accept his outstretched hand.

“You understand how hard it’s gonna be for me to trust you?” You state.

Cedric nods his head.

“You’re not going to be afraid to be seen with me in public?” You push, remembering the first day he saw you.

Cedric freezes for a moment, knowing what you’re referring to, his head fights with his heart, but he knows his answer. He pushes his own fear aside and smiles.

“Why would I? You’re my friend now right?” He chuckles, earning himself a small grin from you.

“You have a beautiful smile you know.”

Your eyes lift from their spot on the floor into Cedric’s bright grey ones.

“T-Thank you.”

Cedric nods, sitting in peaceful silence beside you as you slowly catch your breath.

“Any chance you’d like to meet here tomorrow?” Cedric suggests, scratching the back of his neck.

“I-I’d like that.” You smile, sniffling into your sleeve.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter imagine #cedric diggory imagine #harry potter #cedric diggory fluff #cedric x y/n #cedricsbrowncurls #angst

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jflemings · 3 years ago

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this town is built on ashes (we will show you how to rise)

read on ao3!

Beacon Hills will chew you up and spit you out.

this is what remains of the women protecting it.

Death is a price to pay when courage and determination walk the battlefield hand in hand; It comes after a teenage girl decides that this, right here, is everything worth fighting for. If life was fair and if the good didn't die young then all that remains of her would not be stories, keywords, memories and dreams of a life lost to the horror that they didn't know they were getting themselves into. How do you grieve a lost love when she's still everywhere you turn? When all the good about her only exists in the uninterrupted loop between life and death? how do you tell the people you hold most dear that she saved your life before you had to claw your eyes out to save the ones that are still here?

How do you tell a father that his only daughter still walks the earth right beside the family she chose? Right beside the only people she had.

It goes like this: a girl made of starlight walks through the ruined streets of a run down town with too many losses to count. She touches the deepest parts of your soul with soft hands, cradles your heart until it is no longer yours and grants your wishes with kisses. She teaches you how to be brave and shows you that angels can get their hands dirty too, but that doesn't soften the glow of her too-bright halo even after she's shed the blood of your kind. She grows into her name and redefines what it means to belong to a long line of hunters; the first line of hunters. The monarchy leaves her in charge of the future of all that her father knows and he couldn't be more proud of the code that slips off her tongue, the promise to live and die for what she loves now etched deep into her bones. They all look at her and think 'this is what power is, this is what it means to fight for yourself and the ones you'll love until the end of time; This is what we fight for'. When a banshee screams her name into the dead tunnels they all know that all that's left of her is an angel-shaped hole in their hearts.

we protect those who cannot protect themselves.

The beginning of a war was marked when Artemis had finally called her home.

You're the one who finds the bodies; you're always the one who finds the bodies. They come to you in your dreams, clouding every corner of your already crowded mind until the ghosts of the past claw their way up your oesophagus and shatter the haunted silence that follows you everywhere you go. Lost souls with no where to turn attach themselves to your designer heels acting as shadows that don't disappear even when the moon is hung high in the sky, until you don't even know what your own shadow looks like. At first they think you're crazy. Then they think you're psychic. Now, they think you're unlucky. Unlucky that you had to feel your best friend's death before it happened, unlucky that you saw the outline of a boy who didn't exist, unlucky that this was what you were always meant to be. Because it was the lock of alpha jaws dragging you on your high school lacrosse field that brought your talent for finding the dead to the surface, but this was always the way it was meant to be. Because it was something fate had bestowed on you the day you were born, your shrieking cries filling the floor of Beacon Hills memorial not knowing that this is what you were designed to do. What your grandmother would come to do one day.

So you do what you're good at. You sit in the crisp white room in your grandmother's lake house listening to a record player on repeat for three days because your friends are in danger, because there's a young teenage boy just brought into your world and now there are people trying to take him out of it, because this is what you've all been doing the whole time. So you sit and you think and you decode and you try, try, try.

Because this is what you're good at.

And then you solve it. You solve it with her name and then again with his. You find out that this was what was meant to happen all along, that fate had been playing a cruel game and that you were always meant to lose her to the clutches of this godforsaken town; so you sit with yourself and it feels like you're sitting with her, too, because she never really left your side. You tell yourself that this is good, that this is what she does. She helps and she fights and does it all out of love because that was who she was. Then you tell yourself that you can fight too and that no person from the past will stop that because not even a hole drilled into your head or claws in the back of your neck can reveal your deepest, darkest secrets.

So you fight. You scream and you cry and you beg and it's messy and it hurts but you fight because this is what she was good at and now you're getting good at it too.

And you win. You win because now there's something different about you, something more powerful than before. You've always been smart and a force to be reckoned with but now your voice matches your wit; and you're loud for the first time when you had been quiet before, nothing more than a hollowed out shell of a pretty girl trying to make amends with herself and her brilliant, brilliant mind. You do it again, because you know he's real and that there are answers to all of your questions where a ghost town resides, and now you know what happens to a banshee when undead horses ride through towns stealing souls and memories and lives. You're not going to let it happen again. You throw your head back and scream to the sky that you won't have another person taken from you. You won't, you won't, you won't and you don't, and it makes you want to cry in triumph because you couldn't save them but you saved him, and your dearest friends and the place you call home.

So you throw your head back once again and you laugh. You laugh in the face of fate and you laugh at the destiny it gave you because you fought and you won and, god, you hope she's proud.

And so you rise above what fate handed to you because fuck fate.

Your skin feels too tight around your shoulders some days, like you're still getting used to being more woman than wolf. It makes you want to claw at yourself until you're bloody and ruined and free of the guilt you carry around like second skin; instead you strip and run. You run deep into the preserve and then back again over and over until you're ragged and raw, like you've just bared your soul and sins to the swaying trees around you, letting the unwanted memories play cat and mouse with your mind late at night when you know you can't sleep in your childhood bedroom. You try, really, you do but there's something about the coyote that demands to be seen when you're most vulnerable, like she doesn't remember co-existing with your human mind for eight years before you had an alpha on his hands and knees desperately roaring because him and his pale friend think this is what you want, what you need. It's not. Now you have to face your father with the knowledge that you killed your mother and sister, that you were the reason your mother lost control of the car and lost her life, the photos and memories haunting you in a way they didn't before.

But you learn.

You let them teach you how to be human. How to live in a world that hasn't been your own for many, many years and you learn how to co-exist with the wilderness that prances around inside you like a pet. You teach it to sit, to obey and to respond to the red of a true alpha's eyes because this is your pack and they are your family and when your family expands one night of junior year suddenly the coyote wants to play. Wants to run a muck with the new, young wolf that's struggling with his new face and all you can think is 'we're the same' because you still see a coyote with a human face when you look in the mirror and you can't quite shake the constant feeling of go, go, go when you venture into the preserve because it's like coming home.

They tell you -- reluctantly -- about Peter Hale and the bad things he did and how he's the reason Scott is what he is and then all you feel is the need to protect. You meet him and he comments about your eyes, your mother's eyes, with a tone that makes you feel uneasy yet safe at the same time. You don't tell Scott or Stiles or Lydia because you know the bad that he's done and you don't want to worry your new family, not with the growing list of supernaturals that are being hunted and killed for money -- Peter's money. But then you know. You know because there's a piece of paper in Stiles' jacket that has your name on it. Your real name and once again your skin feels like it doesn't belong to you and when you look at yourself in the mirror with too-blue eyes and a mouth full of fangs that don't quite fit right in your human-shaped jaw you see more of him in you than you ever thought would be possible. You see it in the glowing blue that tells everyone that you're not like the others, that you took two innocent lives when you were eight years old and that it's all your fault; but you still go looking because now you need to know where you came from, who you are beyond the skin you've forced yourself to be comfortable in.

You wish you could go back in time and tell him how right he was to be worried about splitting up. How in just a few hours the world you were growing into would once again be flipped on it's head when someone new strolls back into Beacon Hills and despite the ever-growing warnings from a boy you think you love, you can't help but trust the stranger. It tears your little family apart, but you hold onto what you know and what you think is yours until it isn't because he carries the weight of his sins on his shoulders differently than you do but in the end, it all looks the same. Coming face-to-face with a stranger that already knows you earns you a bullet in the hip and a need to fight you didn't really know was possible for human you, something you only thought the coyote could bring out. This is what you need, what you both need, to survive.

Too suddenly you don't have control anymore. The lines between coyote and girl are becoming blurred with the feeling deep in your gut that something is missing, something you need. It's like the presence of someone follows you through the preserve when you run, feeling the need to always look over your shoulder only to find that nothing is there, nothing following you like you're prey. You find a different comfort in the familiarity that is carried not in his blood red eyes, but in his kind smile and careful hands and it feels like your bones have finally settled and your mouth is accommodating for the too sharp teeth that split your gums open when your hackles rise, when you need to protect. You finally find the answers you're looking for in a teenage boy that wears too-big flannels and carries himself like he's lives a thousand lives over but it's different now, for the both of you. Because now he's holding the hand of a girl he's loved all his life and now you've learnt how to be both girl and coyote in a world that is now yours. You've learnt to fight and to protect and to snarl in the face of anyone who dares to break your little family apart again.

You teach yourself to be dangerous, to wear your human skin as well as your coyote.

You learn how to be wild when the world has told you not to.

You find comfort in the most electrifying, earth rumbling storms because you've always felt at home whenever a storm rolls over head; feeling so out of place on the ground but powerful when you look to the sky as if it is something that has kept the electricity in your veins at bay, like your body is responding to the call of the heavens. New York has been your home for as long as you can remember but you knew that something else was calling you, something pulling at your heart, urging you to follow the deep thrum in your chest. Your mother doesn't talk a lot about where she grew up and you've never met your grandparents on her side, or seen any photos of how she lived in her early years. Sometimes you feel like you don't know her at all. What she does tell you though is that you're expected to uproot your life and move to the west coast with no warning, no time to think or debate or convince her that it isn't the right move, that you can't leave everything you have behind. She tells you that this is what needs to happen, that there's something in the town of Beacon Hills that she needs to be there for. You are out of New York a month later.

She's right, because when is she not right.

You learn about the thrum of thunder that occupies your rib cage and you learn that really, you're less alone than you thought. You are saved by a boy with strong hands and a heart of gold that weighs his chest down, he lets you see his other face and crumbles when you take the time to softly outline his canine features. You are pulled into a world only you could ever think to read about, something that was so far out of reach yet so close to touch and now you understand why your mother had been called back to where she lost it all, but all you can do is hope that you don't suffer the same fate. They loose three of their own in the same night. One to the grave, one to France and one to the weight of all the loss he's faced, when you look at your mother you see regret and content; like this is how it is and how it is going to be in order to keep Beacon Hills safe. It doesn't last long.

The coyote is blunt and often knows no boundaries, she doesn't understand why you look away the first time you see her transform from desert wolf to girl and you wish you could abandon your fear of being seen. A young beta werewolf fears what he is and the thing that makes him stronger, the thing that makes him apart of something bigger than himself and sometimes you can't help but feel like you're looking into your own reflection. You're all being hunted for money and you can't help but feel like this is a game and the trickster wants to fight back, wants to play. She wants to be seen and to be heard and to be feared as you begin to get to know her and let her grow into a body that has always been yours but is now also hers. The storm that resides in you thrums louder and you can't help but think that this is something you should fear, something that could be controlled. A fox means unpredictable outcomes, a trickster spirit that wants to play means that she's slipping out of the control you desperately try to reign on her.

She doesn't like that. sometimes she keeps you up at night with the fear of wanting to leave you behind.

You think you know who you are and what the fox is thinking but the fox doesn't take kindly to strangers; especially ones that come looking for you. The storm becomes too overbearing when it makes a home out of your bones, bones that have never snapped or bent, bones that don't know how to harness thunder. You know you're losing the control when you start to lose them, too. When the fox takes advantage of the sudden space around you that was once suffocating, you finally learn what it means when it says it wants to leave you behind. It wants to carry the weight of power in its bare hands, not its bones; it wants to feet the heavens shake with the crack of lightning that surges through your veins; it wants to be seen for what it is, not for who you are.

You make a deal to save the ones you love, the family you chose.

You need control and your fox needs discipline so you tell the women of the desert that you will come back to them and learn, that you'll do anything to save your friends, your pack. You walk away with dust in your hair, a new reason to fight and a job to do. The fox prances with pride at the display of strength and you can't help but feel a little bit of that too because this is progress. This is what it feels like when you're not fighting with the other half of you but you know that it's not control, and you know it even more when the stolen lightning catches on your blade. The fox laughs and says to you 'this is our game, we must show him how to play'. You relay the message and the fox yields your sword with you, two hands grasping over your own with the determination and you know when you put your sword in the ground that you are more fox than girl, and this is exactly what the fox wants. You send a teenage boy to his own personal hell, destined to live out the rest of his life suffering his biggest regret over and over again. You try not to think about what that means.

You take yourself to the desert to make good on the deal you make with the only women who can help. You know you need this, need to know what it feels like to be as one with the spirit inside you, need to know what it feels like to trust the instinct. You leave Beacon Hills with your other half and the memory of the boy with careful hands and beckoning eyes. Your fox teaches you to grow into the power you have been given and you teach her to live in the body you're in; You teach each other discipline and how to harness the power both of you hold within your souls. She teaches you to let go of the things you cannot control and you teach her that leaving a little bit of yourself in a town you call home and with people you love can anchor you back to earth when you know that there's always something waiting for your return.

And then you feel it.

You feel the ground split open beneath you and the emptiness of one's chest, a hole where all their sins lay bare and you know, you know, that the determined hands that grasp the handle of your sword and drive it into the ground are those that carry love, hope, anger and now, second chances. It reminds you of a time where two halves of one whole were still learning to exist in a body that was not made for either of them.

now though, fox and girl live as one, and you're beginning to forget who you were at sixteen but you'll never forget the ones you left behind.

#international women's day #Allison argent #kira yukimura #lydia martin #malia tate #tw ladies #teen wolf fic #teen wolf movie #pegswrites

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rikiflowers · 4 years ago

Text

unscathed; levi ackerman

warnings: smut, reader is a little wounded but nothing major

2.1 k words

- he always comes back to you; always.

...

There wasn’t any sound to be heard, except for y/n’s heartbeat, loud and hammering like this little piece wants to break out of her chest. Every now and then her eyes were focused on the window, instead of the lines of the old book. She couldn’t concentrate at all. She was waiting for him, her mind is racing; her imagination going wild, telling her something terrible happened. It’s getting late, so late that she needs several candles. With her injuries, she gained the last mission, she was kept in her room and she really loathe it, when she isn’t able to fulfil her duty of being a soldier. Several rips are broken, so is her left arm. But they nearly healed, so why couldn’t she go with them? The young woman thought reading would distract her; But no. Her nerves are on the edge. A sigh escapes her lips.

The young woman knew that he’s strong, unbelievably strong; He doesn’t wear the name ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’ without a reason. Her mind and strongly her heart ignore this. She just wants him safe in her arms and it doesn’t help that she isn’t there to support him. the woman knew she’s also strong; Not like him, but she has her value. y/n couldn’t hold it anymore. She groans, throws the book on her bed. She needs to clear her head instantly or she’s going berserk. y/n decides to take a shower. If someone sees her, walking outside, while she’s being injured, she doesn’t want to think of the consequences she would face, if he would find out. If he comes back. Instantly she cursed herself for her dumb thoughts. He’s coming back to her; always. Why can’t she trust him?

y/n drags herself into her bathroom and looks into the mirror right beside her. A tired woman looks at her; She hates her face so much, the deep eyebags showing how tired she is. The woman undressed herself, threw her things in the corner of the bathroom. It was so cold in her bathroom, so she quickly stepped inside the shower, turns on the hot side. A satisfied moan escaped her lips when the hot water runs over her strained skin and she gets lost in the moment. Her fingers brush over the light purple bruises on her skin, directly over her injured rips. She remembers how the abnormal titan nearly squeezed her to death. Hange rescued her. y/n didn’t know till today why she hadn’t seen it coming. It was embarrassing for her, to make this dumb mistake. Maybe that’s why she’s so worried about him. y/n projects her own failure on him.

Her wet her sticks to her face while she’s so distracted by her own quilt tripping. Y/n doesn’t hear that the door opens, nor did she hear the footsteps of him. She was completely lost, letting the water run over her body. “y/n.”. She hears him saying her name and her heart dropped instantly. He’ s alive. Thank God. She wants to see him, but the windows of cabin are too fogged. “I get ready, wait for me, please.”, she stated, her voice cracked a little, because of her high tension. “Can I join?”, he asks back, and y/n didn’t expect this. He never suggested sharing a shower because she thought it would be too intimate. “I-I, of course. Come in.”, she stumbles over her words. She hears the rustle of clothing, followed by footsteps.

The first thing y/n sees is the deep red blood, covering his face, making her heart drop in an instant. Her eyes scanned him. He doesn’t seem to be hurt at all. You didn’t question it. It was obvious, the corps lost many, too many lives. Death was always present, but it was normal, seeing your comrades die, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It was painful, destroying all of you. The faces hunting you down in your dreams. “Levi, come here.”, she whispers his name and he followed, stepping into the warm shower. The young woman welcomes him, stepped a little to the side so he could wash the blood away. It ran over his body until it’s swallowed into the drain.

The cabin was small, so the two bodies brushed against each other. It sends shivers down her spine. “Can I wash you?”, y/n breathes, wanting nothing more than to comfort him. He only nodded, so the woman reach for the gel, rubs it carefully in her hands, because of her injured arm. Levi notices. “Your arm?”.

“it’s okay, don’t worry.”, she says, while she hovers her hands over his trained chest. Softly, she presses her palms on the warm skin. She slides the gel over the soft skin, feeling every muscle. He has his eyes closed, his arms rests to his sides, while he lets her do this. He groans a little, while you massage his arms, soaping every inch of his exhausted body. “turn around please.”, she asks him, and he does. y/n rubs his back muscles, rotating her thumbs over his shoulders. She smiles, when he lets out a little moan, doing the same motion again, until he eases under her touch. Her eyes were locked on his well-formed butt, but she doesn’t let her fingertips slide, because she wants him to feel relaxed. They never both touch each other without asking for permission. After all these years together, it transformed to your tick.

y/n loves his skin; She treasures every scar on it because it defined him. Her fingertips brush over the deep scar under his shoulder blade, feeling the rosy flesh and he sighs. “You can continue.”, he simply stated, because the young woman wants to go deeper. She grabs more lotion, so she could soap his legs. She kneels before him, massaging the muscles there, until she looks up, only to see Levi’s grey eyes, staring at you. His gaze watches every move she makes, and she knows how it looks. He had a perfect view, and she could see how his erection grows. Y/n smiles. With her eyes she asks for permission and he touches her head, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her closer to him. She teasingly kisses the tip, hearing how his breath hitches.

Her lips drape around his member, sucking him in, until it hits her throat. He curses under his breath, taking her head to have a little support. He forgets for a moment her left arm, so gets a little gentler. “y/n, fuck.”, he groans while she moves her head, taking him so good. The young woman wants him to come, to release, so she sucks him off, dragging her hand over his shaft. She feels his member pulsating in her mouth, knowing he’s nearly at the edge. She gagged when his erection hits her throat and suppresses a cough. Levi guides her head, slamming into her mouth. He loves it, when she’s gagging on him. Tears escaping her eyes, but they’re washing away with the stream of water.

Suddenly he grabs her cheeks, so his member pops out of her swollen lips. “What?”, could she only say, while she’s standing up. His lips capture her, savouring her taste. Both of his hands grabbing her cheeks. It was a kiss; she doesn’t experience often. It was so intimate, soft and tender, that she forgets how to breathe properly. He presses her body against him. It’s getting hot, not only because of the hot water, rather the thrills which consume their bodies.

Levi kisses her with such force but softness, that she leans into him. Such affection is rare, so she enjoys it, wanting nothing more than to feel him. Her mind races, only thinking about his soft lips. Instantly he lets go, grazing his thumb over her swollen lips and y/n took her tongue out, licks over his finger. Levi watches her with clouded eyes, presses his thumb in her mouth. The feeling of her wet tongue goes straight into his pulsating member. The woman doesn’t take her eyes off him, while she’s sucking his thumb.

Suddenly he grabbed her, a little too harsh, so she winced because of the pain. He presses her back against his chest, while his hands roam over her wet body, feeling the skin under his rough hands. He’s careful not to press too hard on the bruises. His hands cover her breasts, feeling how hard her nipples get under his touch. Her head falls a little back, while she lets out a load moan. “Levi.”, she sighs, feeling his hot breath against her neck. He kisses the exposed skin and y/n believes she loses her mind.

“You want me to touch you?”, he asks with his deep soothing voice, which makes her shiver. She barely can hold herself, so she leans into the man. “everywhere.”, the word escapes her trembling lips, wanting nothing more than him. “y/n, tell me. Where?”, he asks again, his voice gets darker, if that’s even possible. “your fingers…in me.”, she breathed out and when his hand finally travels down, explore the hot wetness between your folds, you can’t hold yourself anymore. He rubs circles around her clit, spreading the slickness, playing with her. y/n moans his name, over and over again. He buries one finger in her, then two. He brings the woman nearly over the edge, he groans in her ear, when her walls cramp around his finger. The wet sounds escaping out of y/n’s heat, doesn’t get swallowed by the sound of the shower. He hears it and enjoys it. His member is pressed hard against her ass.

“I need you Levi, please.”, she begs, her mind is full of him, his scent, coating her. He took his finger out, putting them in his mouth, tasting her. She looks at him, her cheeks are deep red. It was a sight she doesn’t saw every day, so she wants this to mark into her memories forever. Quickly he shoves his member into her, both of them sigh in pure satisfaction. He moves slowly, teasing her. She moans his name again and it sounds like a prayer. Levi wants to ruin her, making her his forever. He knew y/n was his, but he wants to hear it. “Tell me, who you belong to?”, he groans, while thrusting into her, his hand found her neck, pressing lightly in the sensitive skin, a gasp escaping the young woman. Levi took her one leg so he could go deeper, thrusting with much more force. y/n forgets the pain, only pure lust rushes through her body, screaming for Levi.

“Only you.”, the young woman lets out. He goes deeper, filling her, until she sees stars. He can’t last long, so he brought his hand, - which was holding her leg, to her clit, rubbing the sensitive knot, until she collapses in his hold. “Levi, fuck- I’m- “, she couldn’t finish her sentence, her high comes like a tsunami over her. She cried his name. Levi feels it, holds her. He thrusts two more times, until his orgasm hits him, and he pulls out, his semen washes quickly away. He lets go of her, leaning against the cold cabin. He tries to catch his breath, while looking at y/n who does the same. Her legs tremble, while she holds her side, where her broken rips are.

“Are you in pain?”, he asks with worry, but she shakes her head. “everything’s fine.”, she says, wants to wash herself, but he grabs her wrist. “It’s my turn.”, he simply says, holding y/n in his arms. He feels her racing heartbeat against his skin. He presses soft kisses against her neck and then he grabs the bottle with lotion, doing the same process y/n did to him before. She fondly sighs, leaning into him. “Thank you.”, she whispers, and he holds still.

“for what?”.

“For coming back to me.”, she replies, closing her eyes, to focus on his touch. He doesn’t move a muscle. “I know you can’t really say it, but I feel it and that’s enough for me.”, she reveals softly. “I love you, Levi.”.

It was hard for him, to not answer it. His heart races. He wants to say it, but his mind holds him back. Someday he’ll say it. Levi’s sure of this. He holds y/n in his arms and forgets the cruelty of the world.

#levi ackerman #levi #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #anime #smut

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