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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

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Hvítr gown, nýr life (Ubbe x Reader)

This is my contribution to @geekandbooknerd 2k followers challenge! Congrats again, my dear!

My prompt was: "People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters." - Cassandra Clare, City of Glass.

Couple notes for this fic- Bjorn & Torvi are still together because reasons. Italics mean speakers are using Old Norse.

The title means ‘White Gown, New Life’ in Old Norse.

Also, this is my first time writing Ubbe so.... hopefully its not OOC?

Words: 4800

Warnings: one or two swear words. implied sex. I think that’s it???

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

"You cannot truly be considering this!" Bjorn thundered in the small, enclosed room.

Ubbe observed his elder brother- a man he had aspired to be like his whole childhood, a man he still looked up too, regardless of his faults. "Of course I am."

Bjorn slammed his hand on the wooden table, making it shake, as his voice shook like thunder in the room. "You are throwing your future away!"

"I am protecting our future!" Ubbe snapped, finally rising to his feet, irritation leaking into his tone. He met Bjorn's incensed blue eyes with his own resolute gaze. "We need allies, alliances, everything to make father's dream come true. If this is the price I must pay to fulfill Ragnar's dream, then I will gladly do it. It is not about me. It's for our people."

After a long, tense moment, Lagertha pushed off the wall she and Torvi were leaning against. Gliding closer, she moved to stand in front of Ubbe, tears swimming in her eyes. Gently, she cupped his cheeks. "Your father would be so proud of you, Ubbe. I pray the gods bless you with happiness in this."

"Thank you, Lagertha." Relief swelled in Ubbe's chest. If he had Lagertha's support, he knew Bjorn would come around.

Since they fled Kattegat and came to England, he had watched the shieldmaiden age before his eyes. He could not help but wonder if her soul yearned for Valhalla and to be reunited with Ragnar. Not that he could blame her. To hear her speak of Ragnar and his approval of Ubbe's actions, it only further solidified his choice.

Torvi spoke up, surprising him. "I think Ubbe should do it." When Bjorn opened his mouth to interject, she snapped her gaze over to her husband. "This is his decision, Ubbe. He has asked for our advice but it is up to him. We need security and this, though we don't trust them, this can provide that security."

Bjorn huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine! Do what you want!"

"Thank you." Ubbe softly said, looking at all the family he had left in this world. "I'll go inform King Alfred now."

With a firm stride, he left the quarters they had been given in Wessex. After some time trying to locate the young king, a passing servant was able to tell him Alfred's location. Thankfully the king was in his private study, reviewing petitions from the worker's guild. The guards at the door allowed Ubbe entrance only after the king called out to allow him entrance. With a look of unrestrained animosity, almost begging him to give them a reason to throw him out, the guards opened the door for him to pass. Ubbe nodded his thanks, but never removed his hand from the sword at his side until the door closed behind him.

Straightening in his chair, Alfred looked up from the papers spread out over his desk. "Good afternoon, Ubbe. I suspect you have sought me out because you have an answer for my proposition."

"I do, your highness." Ubbe paused, knowing how his life was going to irrevocably change once he answered. "And I will accept. I will take a Saxon wife to further the alliance between us."

"I am greatly pleased by your decision." The dark-haired man pushed away from his desk. He moved to a nearby table to pour them both a cup of wine, something these Saxons seemed to favor, as he continued speaking. "Alliances must be built on trust and understanding. A political marriage certainly helps solidify that trust."

Ubbe received the cup, missing the taste of ale from his homeland. After taking a small sip, he stared at Alfred. "So what do we do now? Do I meet some potentials or is there a matchmaker?"

"No, I already have someone picked out for you. My cousin." Alfred answered without hesitation before pausing in contemplation. "What your father and my grandfather would think of this arrangement….our families tied by blood."

"Yeah…. What is her name?"

"My cousin? Lady Y/N. Fear not, she comes from a well-respected family and with a substantial dowry. She has spent most of her life at a nunnery, so there is no fear of her virtue being tainted."

"Great." Ubbe sighed out. Though he knew Alfred meant all that to be reassuring….it felt anything but.

*****

It was not until almost a month later, Ubbe met his intended bride; with the wedding set for three days after her arrival. Apparently King Alfred and some of the Saxon noblemen were keen on the arranged marriage happening as soon as possible.

Ubbe stood off to the side in the throne room. With his hair freshly braided and pulled back and wearing one of his nicer tunics, he hoped he appeared princely. Even if by Saxon standards, he knew he fell woefully short. Lagertha had given him a nod of approval as they waited in the throne room. Though outwardly he kept his face passive and calm, his insides twisted into knots and his hands were clammy.

"Are you still certain about this, brother?" Bjorn clapped Ubbe on the shoulder as he whispered, eyeing the Saxons standing around.

The flaxen-haired Viking glanced over at King Alfred, who sat on his throne, talking in hushed tones to one of his advisors while his mother looked on with a sour expression.

Ubbe answered solemnly. "Aye, we need this alliance."

With a grunt, Bjorn removed his hand but stayed at his brother's side. Something Ubbe appreciated. Although Bjorn had no issue airing his thoughts on this foolish alliance and how Ubbe was making a mistake in regards to choosing a wife again, he kept his complaints behind closed doors. In front of the Saxons, they presented an united front.

The large doors to the throne room opened with a groan. All eyes turned to witness as a sole figure cautiously yet gracefully walked forward, head held high and hands clasped in front of her.

"Cousin!" King Alfred exclaimed, rising from his throne, arms spread wide. Immediately, he descended the few stairs with a fond smile on his face. "Your presence has been missed here at court."

The woman dipped into an elegant curtsey, her dress gliding around her like water. "You are far too kind, my king."

As King Alfred embraced his cousin in a warm hug, Ubbe could only stare in shock. Standing there in a deep red gown, the woman looked like a goddess. Ubbe had prepared himself mentally for his intended bride to be marginally pretty like most of these Saxon women, but someone he easily overlooked. Not her though. Without even saying a word to him, he felt beguiled by her. It was more than just her physical beauty, it was in the way she carried herself, with grace and a nobility. It reminded him distantly of his mother. A woman who knew her place and dignity. This woman, his intended bride, was truly stunning. He could not help but wonder if the true reason for her prolonged residence at a nunnery was not because of piety but to preserve and protect her. Something he was suddenly immensely grateful for.

"This is your betrothed." Alfred walked her over to where the Vikings stood, at the bottom of the steps leading to his throne. With a pleased smile on his face, he introduced the two. "Ubbe, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, this is my cousin, Lady Y/N."

She curtsied to him, her movements so graceful like they were part of a dance. When she spoke, he was further enchanted, for even her voice was beautiful. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Ubbe."

"It's just Ubbe. Since we are to be married, we can skip the formalities."

A coy smile played on her lips. "As you wish….Ubbe."

"Excellent." King Alfred beamed. "Perhaps a walk in the gardens to better acquaint yourselves would be desirable?"

Before Ubbe could whole-heartedly agree, wishing to learn more about his intended bride, a sickly-sweet voice interrupted.

"Y/N has only just arrived. We have wedding plans to finalize and she must try on her dress." Princess Judith interrupted, wrapping an arm through her niece's while pointedly ignoring the Vikings. "Maybe another time, but I am sure y/n will be quite busy with preparations. Come, my dear."

With that, she swept her niece out of the throne room as if the Vikings had the plague and she refused to breathe the same air as them. But before y/n disappeared, she peeked over her shoulder and met Ubbe's gaze with a tender smile teasing her lips, then disappeared from view.

"There is much to finalize and my mother wants to ensure the wedding will go smoothly. You and y/n will have time after the wedding to become acquainted." Alfred said, studying the direction his mother and cousin vanished. With a sigh, he pulled his gaze back to Ubbe. "Now that introductions are made, I have matters with the clergy to attend to."

Ubbe barely paid attention when Alfred walked away, returning to his throne and listening to some priests whine about something petty.

A bump of a shoulder against his own drew Ubbe's attention back from thinking about y/n.

Bjorn leaned over to whisper conspiracingly in his ear. "Well, at least you won't have a problem bedding her."

*****

The wedding ceremony was outlandish and dragged on for entirely too long. Between the many prayers of the priests and the rigid formality of everything, Ubbe was ready to draw his sword and spill some Christian blood, just to break up the monotony. Even Lagertha appeared ready to fall asleep from where she stood.

The only aspect that kept his attention was his bride. Watching her walk down the aisle, he almost swallowed his tongue, leaving him gaping at her in a slack-jawed awe as she slowly approached. In her flowing wedding dress, a crown of flowers in her hair and eyes alight, she appeared ethereal. Standing in his nicest tunic and pants, he knew he paled in comparison to her, but he did not mind.

When the priests tried to forcefully convince Ubbe to dress in Saxon clothing for the wedding, he not-so-subtly threatened to decapitate them if they mentioned it once more. He was a Viking and would dress as such. Besides this was to be a physical representation of an alliance between Saxon and Viking, it would make no sense for him to dress as a Saxon.

Thankfully Alfred agreed with his thoughts, so the clergy kept any further comments to themselves.

Once the wedding concluded with Ubbe and y/n proclaimed man and wife, the couple was escorted to the celebration. The following feast was beyond lavish, with drink and food in overflowing abundance. To his dismay, Ubbe found himself unable to converse with his new bride. Either Alfred was introducing him to someone new, some nobleman pestered him with questions or worst of all, Judith purposefully continued to make excuses that pulled y/n away. When their eyes met, he could see the apology in them, which lightened the stone in his heart.

As the feast progressed, Ubbe found as more time passed, the more his gaze drifted to his bride. The gods had truly blessed him with this marriage. Watching her, he was captivated. Although, he found his hand frequently shifting to reach for the hilt of his sword no longer strapped to his side. All the appreciative or lustful looks she received from other men did not go unnoticed, and if one of them tried to lay a hand on his new wife, he would not be held accountable for his actions. His fists could be just as deadly as any weapon.

Finally, the time was called for the bedding ceremony.

Alfred and some of the clergy explained to Ubbe what happened during a bedding ceremony when he was learning about the wedding's customs and the vows he would have to recite. To say the Ragnarsson was shocked was an understatement. It sounded barbaric…. and him and his people were called the heathens. But he understood the need to maintain protocol for building the alliance and the trust of the Saxons.

So that was how he found himself walking down a corridor with Bjorn at his side, while the feast and celebrations continued on without him.

"Are you sure about this?"

Ubbe rolled his eyes at his elder brother, his stride never faltering. "You did not have to agree to it."

Bjorn scoffed, keeping pace. "And miss out on all the fun?"

The two brothers laughed, the sound loosening some of the tension in the bridegroom's body. When Alfred told Ubbe he needed a witness to represent his people at the bedding ceremony, Bjorn was the only option. When Ubbe initially told his brother about the tradition and asked for Bjorn's presence, the hulking Viking had doubled-over in laughter, followed by making several crude comments about the need to instruct Ubbe on how to properly bed a woman. The discussion ended in a brotherly tussel but Bjorn agreed.

Especially when Ubbe explained his plan.

The bedroom was in the wing of the royal families' rooms. Since y/n was related by blood, she was given a room there whenever she came to visit and naturally, this meant it was where the marriage would be consummated. Several candles were lit but the bedroom was kept dim to give an illusion of privacy. A quick glance at the bed made Ubbe raise an eyebrow at the generous size and the curtains draped around it. A fire burned in the fireplace providing warmth in the bedroom, a sharp contrast to the stern, cold faces of the clergy who waited.

The bishop who married them stood off to the side with two other clergy, all in their robes and barely suppressed looks of disgust on the priests' faces. Two female attendees fussed over y/n, clearly everyone waiting for Ubbe and Bjorn. Once again, Ubbe had to force himself to keep his eyes from staying glued to his new wife. She stood there in a thick robe, with her hair falling about her shoulders loosely, free from the bridal veil. Her gaze jumped from Ubbe to the clergy and back as she nibbled on her bottom lip, clearly nervous about what was to occur next. Cheekily, he sent her a quick wink, hoping that would help settle her nerves. If the blush that grew on her cheeks said anything, at least she was not repulsed by him.

The bishop stepped forward. "Are you prepared to consummate your marriage to Lady Y/N before God and man?"

"I am." Ubbe defiantly met the man's eyes.

"Then by the power given to me by the Holy Church, let the two become one in the sight of God and these witnesses and the marriage shall be complete." With that, the man drew their strange cross sign in the air and stepped back to rejoin his fellow clergy.

The two attendees helped y/n out of her heavy robe, revealing a thin, white nightgown that seemed to only enhance her beauty and innocence. Desire thrummed in his blood at the sight of her, but Ubbe ignored the sensation for the moment. The heavy robe was laid on a nearby chair and the two women left the room with a quick curtsy, leaving only the men and y/n.

After a shared look with Bjorn, Ubbe walked over to his new bride, keeping his movements slow so as to not startle her. Her hands were clasped before her, but even as he approached, he could see the faint tremble in them. Her gaze never strayed from the floor. The confidence seen previously in her seemed to have melted away into anxiety, making him think of a skittish colt. He could not help but wonder what changed, if it was due to him or what was supposed to occur between them.

Standing before her, he gently reached out to take her soft hands in his own larger, calloused ones, pleased when she did not flinch at his touch. Although her gaze remained downward.

"Are you alright?" He whispered, aware of the four pairs of eyes watching their every move.

"Of….of course, my lord husband."

"Remember, I told you to call me by my name."

That caused her head to snap up and meet his gaze. Now he could see the tears welling up in her eyes and her swollen bottom lip from constantly worrying it.

"It'll be alright." He tugged her bottom lip from between her teeth. The way her breath hitched at the intimate touch made his heart pound. He gave her hands in his, a quick squeeze. "Trust me, yeah?"

After a moment, she gave a faint nod, still eyeing him warily but appearing less like she wanted to flee, mutely squeezing his hands back.

A voice broke the stillness in the room, immediately causing her to tense again.

"The two of you must proceed to the bed to finalize the union. We do not have all night to wait for confirmation of her virginity and consummation." One of the priests drawled with an apparent undertone of disdain.

"Then it is a good thing you don't have to wait any longer." Ubbe retorted, narrowing his eyes at the priest. The man huffed but a quiet rebuke from the bishop had the priest pressing his lips together. With one final, assessing scan, the flaxen-haired Viking shifted, pulling his new bride into his side and wrapping an arm around her waist. He felt her tense against him but ignored it to stare at the three clergy with a mocking smirk. "Bjorn."

At the sound of his name, his brother moved from leaning against the doorframe. A scowl on his face, and with the shadows cast over him, made him appear more looming and menacing. "Everybody out."

The three clergy looked back and forth between the two Viking brothers, clearly confused and intimidated.

"You can't….we must witness…."

"I SAID EVERYBODY OUT!" Bjorn roared, pulling the axe from his side and waving it in the air. "OR DO I NEED TO SPLIT YOUR SKULL TO HELP MY WORDS REACH YOUR TINY BRAINS?!"

The three scrambled, eyes wide in terror, tripping over their long robes in a pathetic attempt to reach the door faster. The bishop turned around, hands grasping the golden cross hanging from his neck. "King….King Alfred will hear of this." He stuttered out in feigned confidence.

A deafening war cry from Bjorn practically shook the room in answer. That was enough to silence the bishop and have him flee, following his companions.

At Bjorn's roar, y/n began shaking like a leaf, her hands tightly holding onto Ubbe's arm wrapped around her. He further pulled her against him, providing shelter from his brother's fury. Even as the room fell back into silence, he could still feel her trembling in his arms. He prayed to the gods that this did not darken her view of him and cause her to fear him.

Once the room cleared and the pounding footfalls of the clergy could no longer be heard, Bjorn turned around with a grin, scratching the back of his neck with his axe. "You know Alfred will be upset when he finds out."

Ubbe smirked. "We can't let him have everything he wants, yeah?"

That made Bjorn chuckle. "I'll go guard the door." He pointed his axe at Ubbe, still grinning. "You owe me for this."

"Scaring priests shitless isn't enough for you?"

Bjorn scoffed. "I can do that whenever I like."

"We'll name our firstborn after you."

Bjorn waved him off, opening the wooden door and stepping out. When the door closed, the echoing sound seemed to fill the empty space in the room.

Ubbe peeked down at the woman in his arms. "Are you alright?"

"Your brother….is….frightening."

"Aye, don't tell him that though. It would only inflate his ego more."

Once he was certain she was steady on her feet and would not faint, he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her head before striding away to the other side of the bedroom. Quickly he pulled off his tunic and boots, tossing them onto a nearby chair and then flopped onto the massive bed in only his pants. If nothing else could be said for tonight, he knew he would sleep well. The bed was comfortable, even rivaling his own bed back in Kattegat. With a pleased groan, he tucked an arm under his head and settled under the covers. A wave of exhaustion crashed over him, his eyelids sliding closed. Even though he felt like he spent most of the day standing around and kneeling for the wedding, it was still tedious and draining. Thank the gods it was over.

"Um, my lord…."

"Ubbe." He interrupted, lips twitching in amusement. "Or husband. Whichever you prefer."

"Ah, Ubbe….are we not….?" Her hesitant voice trailed off, but the unspoken question lingered in the air.

He snorted. "I have no plans to force myself upon you just to appease your priests and bishop."

"But we must consummate the marriage."

"I will only have sex with you if you desire me as your husband and not just to fulfill an obligation."

The following, prolonged silence caused him to open his eyes and look over at his new wife. It was apparent she had not moved from where he left her. He expected to see fear on her lovely face or revulsion at the idea of her ever willingly wanting him to touch her. Instead, she seemed to be studying him with a mixture of curiosity and respect. That confident woman he had previously met, making a reappearance.

After holding her gaze for a moment, he patted the bed next to him. "Come lay down. I doubt standing there all night will be pleasant."

With a soft smile, she stepped over and crawled under the covers, but maintained an arm’s length distance between them. They both laid on their backs, together yet alone. The only sounds were of the crackling fire and their breathing.

Before he realized it, Ubbe found himself speaking, filling the silence with his babbling but strangely felt he needed to share these thoughts with the woman beside him, the woman whose life was now tied to him, whether she wanted it to be or not.

"I doubt this is the marriage you were dreaming of as a little girl. Probably expected some prince or lord….not a Viking. Your people only see us as heathens, as barbaric devils, at least that's what one of the noblemen said. That we cannot stop the evil and destruction we cause because we are possessed." He snorted, rubbing a hand down his face. After a deep breath, he turned his head to look at her, amazed to find her already watching him. His tone softened as he continued. "I'm sorry you were forced into this marriage. I know it might not mean much to you but I vow I won't ever physically harm you or force myself upon you. After all the wedding ceremonies, you can return to the nunnery if that is what you want."

Her eyes widened momentarily, then drifted away as she worried her lip once again. As he waited for her to speak, his gaze traveled over her face, taking in the small details that until now he had not been able to observe. It would be a blatant lie to say he did not desire to lie with her, to touch and taste her. The current state of his manhood was evidence enough of how simply gazing at her beauty affected him. He made a vow to her. If nothing else, he hoped they could be friendly to one another.

To his shock, she rolled onto her side, facing him completely, hands tucked under her cheek. Without hesitation, he mirrored her action, but kept his head cradled on his arm.

"I have not traveled much," she quietly said, almost shyly, "but there is one thing I've learned through my studies and the observation of others. People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters." She paused as if choosing her next words carefully. "I do not think you are a barbaric devil or….or possessed. I think…."

"What?"

"I think you are very brave and strong. Not many would seek an alliance with those that fervently claim them as an enemy….nor be kind to a simple noblewoman."

He smirked, finding himself charmed by her honesty. Carefully, he reached over and brushed a thumb over her cheek. "You are no simple noblewoman, my lady."

"If you are just Ubbe, then I request you call me, y/n."

An unexpected, loud banging on the door startled them both. Y/n gasped and rushed to sit up against the headboard, eyes wide with fright. Ubbe immediately pushed himself up, making sure to put himself between his wife and the door, unsheathing a dagger he had subtly slipped under his pillow.

"Are you two done yet? Some ugly priest out here wants to know!" Bjorn shouted through the door.

Ubbe groaned, putting the dagger away, before calling back. "No! This woman is insatiable! Tell the priest to come back in the morning! Hopefully I can still walk!"

A harsh bark of laughter preceded loud arguing, which could be heard through the door. Raised voices crept underneath the door frame, the loudest being that of Bjorn. Ubbe stayed perched on the bed, to assist his brother if the need called for it. No matter what Alfred or those whiny clergy ordered, no one would be witnessing any consummation of his. Ever. Eventually, the voices dwindled like a dying flame until only silence could be heard from outside. Ubbe figured Bjorn must have won the argument, or used enough threats of bodily harm, since no one entered the bedroom.

The dagger returned to its sheath under his pillow. A habit he had since childhood. A glance to his side showed his wife still shifted as far away from the door as possible, hands clutching the sheets in a tight grip. He reached a hand out to her. "It's alright. Bjorn won't let anyone in."

She took his hand, still eyeing the door warily. "What did you say to him?"

"Ah, nothing important. Just to keep the priests away."

"Ok."

"We should go to sleep. Today has been long." He stated after he coaxed her back under the covers and no longer sent glances towards the door. Only after she was settled did he relax. Laying on his back, an arm behind his head, his eyes closed almost instantly. He could hear her shuffling occasionally but he paid it no mind. Sleep slinked into his mind, hovering on the edges.

"Ubbe…." A barely-heard whisper pulled him from the brink of sleep.

"Yes?"

"What if….what if I want to."

"Mmmm?"

"Um, fulfill our marital duties."

Well, that got his attention. He turned his head to the side, noting how her gaze traced over his bare chest slowly then lifted to meet his gaze. "Are you asking me to have sex with you?"

"Yes." She bit her bottom lip, even as her eyes never strayed from him.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Hmmm….well, I may be convinced but….you have to kiss me first."

Cautiously yet deliberately, she scooted closer until they lay side by side. In a graceful movement, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his in an innocent, chaste kiss. Her lips were softer than even the pillow beneath him and by the gods, she was going to be his undoing. After a moment, she leaned back, gazing down at him with a nervous yet endearing smile. Before he could say anything, to encourage or instruct, her lips descended on his once again, but this time hungrily. His initial surprise transitioned to a carnal satisfaction when a soft moan slipped out of her after he tugged on her bottom lip. Their mouths connected with a needy kiss, sending a jolt of electricity through him. All thoughts of sleep forgotten.

Suddenly, he flipped them over, pinning her underneath him, taking charge of their love-making. She giggled at the abrupt action but that was quickly silenced by his mouth crashing against hers and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

As she kissed him back passionately, he wondered if maybe this marriage was not such a bad idea. If the way her lips eagerly sought his, her hands gripped onto biceps as if to keep her steady, her back arched as he trailed open-mouth kisses down her neck….maybe the marriage could be more than just political.

Soon enough, all thoughts vanished from his mind that were not related in regards to exploring the exquisite body of his Saxon wife and listening to her moan his name repeatedly.

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x reader #ubbe x you #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #vikings bjorn #torvi vikings #lagertha #alfred the great #king alfred #hayleys2k #mzwrites

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inknopewetrust · 4 years ago

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smallest joys (Henry!Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader)

Summary: the tree in the Holmes’ backyard as a place of great peace and laughter of all, and a moment arises for it to be a place of forgiveness and love as well.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none.

A/N: thanks so much for reading and always remember that authors love to hear any feedback on stories, so don’t be shy to share your opinions. Requests are still closed, but I’m working on getting them up and running hopefully soon! xoxo (gif not mine)

Enola was perched high above the ground in the great gray tree that sat far from the house she had grown to resent without her mother there. It was difficult, the constant want of adventure and thrill that was often smothered because of Mycroft’s inability to have a semblance of joy in his life.

Throwing the shading pencil in her sketchbook and closing it with a huff, Enola heard a set of angered footsteps make their way towards the tree in which she inhabited and she balled her fists against a branch. Half expecting it to be Mycroft yelling at her for leaving the study and half expecting it to be Sherlock doing their eldest brother’s bidding in a kinder manner, one they always hoped she’d fall for.

But it wasn’t. Y/n L/n, Sherlock’s feisty assistant from London was irate with her cheeks as red as apples storming toward the tree. Without noticing Enola above, Y/n leaned against its trunk and her head fell into her hands in embarrassment.

“Did you do something stupid?” Enola inquired and you jumped ever so slightly, looking up with great haste at Enola above. The young girl was smiling down on you kindly but also with such an inquisitive mind, you weren’t sure if she truly cared or just wanted manor gossip to share with the housemaid.

“And why would you ask such a thing, young lady?” You shoved your hands on your hips and narrowed fine eyes at Enola, trying to forget why you stormed out in the first place, though that was practically impossible because you knew he would follow after an argument.

“I asked you first, Y/n. And I’m not a young lady, you sound like Mycroft.” Enola swung her feet off a branch and rested her head in her intertwined hands that laid on top of another arm of the great tree.

“What happened? Did Sherlock finally recognize your talents for discovery or did you say something stupid that angered him?” Enola asked again, more in depth than before and her eyes narrowed now at the woman she had grown to admire very much.

Y/n was always someone who Enola could depend upon. Whether it be for new books from London or a simple lesson on dust particles, she knew Y/n had many of the answers. But as of late, with her mother gone and the tension in the home only growing, Sherlock appeared to be easily angered or upset by small comments, jokes or jabs at him that were not unusual from his assistant and Enola took notice. She saw the way Y/n’s eyes fell or how she would storm out of the room, angered at either herself or his reaction to her little joys and she couldn’t quite figure out why it was always her he was getting angry at. It had never happened before they had come to stay at his childhood home to help with Enola.

“Enola, I do not want to burden you with the petty arguments of adults. It is no concern of yours.”

“If it is my brother’s fault I consider it my concern.”

You pursed her lips at the girl before indulging in your frustrations.

“Every little comment I make he gets angry at. I am not use to being yelled at by him and I certainly do not understand why he is so uptight ever since we arrived. I try to help with his inquiries about your mother but even then, my input seems to go in one ear and sails out the other! Enola, I mean nothing by this, truly, I am simply frustrated by always being second fiddle to a man who appears to need no help at all.” You managed to mutter out in a moments time and Enola understood. Mycroft was the one treating Enola the same way at the moment and she wanted nothing more than to place a metal helmet on his head and bang a stick against it to set his mind straight. The men just do not appear to respect the intelligence of the women in the house.

“I am not meant for a life of domesticity, Enola. I am sure you can tell by the way I stir a pot or fold the laundry, I like adventure and I enjoy mystery very much. I simply want Sherlock to see that too. I don’t want to lose my dearest friend over one little spat.”

Enola smiled down at you and jumped down, meeting the grass with a thud and wiped off the shards that managed to catch themselves on her stockings.

“And that is why I admire you, very much, if I may add. And are you sure you don’t love him? If friends act the way you two do, I would have to choose my friends wisely.” You chuckled, reassured her you were simply just friends and embraced Enola in a some-what motherly manner, though Enola saw it as what she’d imagined would be a best friend, or sister.

“I would tell him how you feel. Make him understand you better and believe me when I say he will listen.” Enola retracted from the embrace and shot off towards the house, leaving you in state of bewilderment and confusion but when you turned around yourself intending to watch Enola run toward the house, you were met with the man you had no more than ten minutes ago stormed away from.

Sherlock stood with one hand in a pocket and the other clutching a book to his chest and a small pout on his face. The pout wasn’t one of sadness or disappointment, but of wonder and curiosity, already trying to decipher the situation before him.

“She was quick to run away.” Sherlock observed and moved toward the tree, leaning his back against it and looking over to you, just slightly to the side of him but facing him, not the land surrounding the tree.

“Well if she knew your temper as well as I do, I would run away too but obviously that has proven to not be an option.”

“I came here to apologize.” Your eyes, ears, and heart managed to perk up at the sound of Sherlock saying the word “apologize” because it wasn’t one he had ever said before, certainly not to you or anyone else he interacted with.

“An apology? From the great Sherlock Holmes? What ever shall I do with this honor?” You faked a gasp and held a hand to your forehead in a manner that only suggested a maiden swooning. Sherlock enrolled his eyes at the joke, seeming to understand that it was simply that, and as your hand made its way down from your forehead, he captured it softly in his empty one and held it gently, yet firm and your eyes flicked up to meet his.

“I would like to be serious about this, Y/n. My actions towards you the last few days have been unlike me and I am sorry for making you feel as if your opinion doesn’t matter, because it most certainly does.”

So he had heard you short conversation with Enola.

“Your opinion I value more than anyone in this world and I am frustrated I have gotten nowhere with my mother’s case in several days. I want her to return safely and with every passing day that outcome becomes less likely.”

“If you spoke to me about your concerns earlier we may have found a middle ground Sherlock. I accept your apology but I will not forgo my jokes in any situation so enjoy the humor while I still walk this earth.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but let the smallest smirk grace his face at the comment. He knew you always took your work seriously, but humor helped with the difficulties some cases can bring and he often failed to recognize the importance of laughter and enjoyment even in the darkest times. He still held your hand in his, in which he then brought it up to his lips and kissed the inside of your palm. It was personal, intimate, and apologetic.

“I am sorry you have to put up with me. I shouldn’t be so harsh when you’re trying to brighten the darkest days.”

“If I want to leave I can, but I seek thrill too much to let you or these cases disappear from my life.”

Sherlock actually smiled and sat down against the trunk, leading you to sit beside him and wrapped his free hand around your shoulders pulling you close. Ever since you arrived at his home, intimate interactions were seldom as Mycroft would have a million harsh words about how you were not a “proper lady to Sherlock”, but it wasn’t like Sherlock would have cared anyway.

“Shall we return to this story?” Sherlock said in a low, “fancy” voice in your ear and you couldn’t help but let out a snort at his attempt to be regal.

“I sincerely hope Elizabeth slaps Mr. Darcy across the face after what he said about her family. If that does not happen, the story dies there.”

“Would you slap every man who offends you? Because if so I’ll brace for one now.” Sherlock was actually joking for once but you slapped his chest lightly with your hand and let it fall, playing with a button on his waist coat. He looked down at you, a curl from the top of his head falling onto his forehead with a spring and you smiled at the handsome man you curled up against.

“Perhaps.”

Sherlock laid a lingering kiss on your forehead and opened the book, removing the leaf that served at the bookmark and began reading in total comfort with you beside him. It was perfect until a rumble came from the bush and Enola shot up with sticks in her hair.

“So you ARE together!?”

#Sherlock Holmes #enola homes #enola holmes netflix #henry cavill #Sherlock Holmes x reader #Sherlock Holmes imagine #Sherlock Holmes one shot #Sherlock Holmes fic #henry!sherlock #henry!holmes #x reader #female reader #post #personal post #original post #original writing

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years ago

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(The Hobbit) Thorin x Reader: Dragonsickness and the Heart

(Author’s Note: Well, it’s spring, and usually spring gets me in a hobbit/LotR mood, so here we are. I actually wrote a shameless OC self-insert a few years ago, and decided to just take a section of it an make it a reader-insert.

Warnings: Thorin acts like a lil creep, but in the end he wouldn’t do anything to hurt reader.

While under the effects of the dragon sickness, Thorin says some things... You wonder if it’s the sickness talking, or perhaps it is his true feelings coming out.

Enjoy!)

You struggled with the dwarvish armor, finally letting it fall to the ground. It was much too big and clunky: you could barely stand in it! Thorin had given the order for the Company to armor up, but it didn’t look like it would be possible for you. The clank of metal sounded in the armory around the corner, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You had taken your chosen armor to an empty room to avoid the humiliation as you attempted to try the foreign material on. Even after you managed to finally figure it out, the weight of the metal was too much. You weren’t exactly in the mood for endless teasing on Fili and Kili’s part. Dwalin might even find it humorous and would never let you live it down.

Footsteps sounded around the corner, and you whirled around to come up with an excuse or explanation of some sort as to why you were hiding away like this. To your surprise, it was Thorin, all armored-up and looking…well…looking pretty good.

Even with everything that had happened, after how crappy of a person he had become since the dragon sickness took its hold, you were surprised to feel your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. He entered the dimly-lit room, eyes flickering from you to the bulky armor lying on the floor. He flashed an amused smile that made you feel weak.

“Trouble?” he asked, pacing over with a raised brow.

“Uh, y-yes,” you mumbled back, unable to meet his intense gaze. You tried to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself, yet it didn’t stop your heart from doing flips in your ribcage. “It obviously wasn’t going to fit. I don’t know why I tried anyways.

“Because you’re you,” he responded with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from you. He was being friendly, but there was still something off about him. His voice. He spoke in such a low and silky tone, practically laced with dragon sickness. It made you feel uneasy and not necessarily in a good way.

As Thorin took a step forward, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and flinched out of instinct from being on the road. He noticed and paused, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. He only meant to give you something, he said. When you nodded, he rounded the corner until he was out of sight. Moments later, he returned with a bundle of armor in his hands though these were different from the weighty pieces you had already tried. He handed you the iron shoulder plates first, and you marveled at the simple designs cast into them. They looked as if they’d been made just for you. Judging by the warmth in Thorin’s eyes, they had been.

“These should suit you better.”

You tentatively accepted the shoulder plates, fiddling with the leather straps that would hold them in place. You tried putting your arm through one loop as if it was a sleeve, but it felt wrong, so you tried a different angle, a different loop…

As if reading your mind, Thorin took and unbuckled it. “Here.”

You gulped as he carefully took your arm and put it through the correct loop. Each movement he made was slow and drawn out, and you wondered for a minute if he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart race. It wasn’t doing anything to help the situations of your one-sided love towards him. You resolved to accept the rest of the armor politely and go find another hidden room to figure it out on your own, but as soon as the shoulder plates were secure, Thorin proceeded to strap on a chestplate. Then he continued with a sort of metal shin guard.

“There,” he said finally, checking some of the straps to ensure they were in place. “You will be much better protected.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, releasing a breath. “Thank you.”

He gazed at you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “I will do all in my power to make sure you are safe.” Your eyes widened as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You should know I have grown rather fond of you, _________.”

You remained still, absolutely shocked at the unexpected statement. It felt as if your body wouldn’t respond. Surely, he doesn’t actually mean what he says? It must have been some strange effect of the dragon sickness, right?

You had joined the Company early in the journey in hopes of changing the ending. You and Gandalf had an understanding that you would gain the Company’s trust and use your knowledge of Middle-Earth to ensure the line of Durin survived. From the moment you appeared on the dirt path in front of the Company in your modern clothes feeling lost and uncertain, Thorin hadn’t taken much interest other than to bark orders to you or spare a disdained glance at you and Bilbo at your “softness” when it came to life on the road.

Over time, you learned to place your trust in the Company and to do your part so they’d trust you- including Thorin. He and you had started to bond, especially in Lake-Town when you’d spoken to each other outside in the snow during the celebration of the dwarves’ return to the mountain. You even managed to make him smile a few times. You realized that as Thorin had begun to trust you, you trusted him not only as a leader but as a friend, and your affection grew beyond what you’d originally thought.

Still, you wondered if perhaps it was all in your head. Thorin had seen you as young and naive early on, but that was only because of your inexperience in the world of Middle-Earth. Things had changed. Perhaps they had changed more than you thought?

Thorin’s breath disappeared from your ear as he pulled away to circle aroundyou, the armor clanking with every step. You were frozen to the spot, but your lips managed to form words.

“What about Balin? You told him that you felt nothing for me and that you were focused on the quest.”

An eerie chuckle echoed from behind. “I told Balin what he wanted to hear. I told him that so he would not question me any further on the matter, but the truth remains…” His voice sounded right behind you. “I care about you.”

He was saying what you wanted to hear all along, and yet it felt so wrong now. This wasn’t the real Thorin, right? You could not possibly accept this declaration of feelings knowing that he would snap out of it soon enough.

“W-we should go join the others…”

His arm snaked around your waist, earning a gasp from you. “I love you, ________, and I want you to say you feel the same.”

“Thorin, I can’t. You’re not yourself. The stress of the Arkenstone and the battle must be affecting you.”

“My own kin has betrayed me. One of them has taken the Arkenstone. Please, do not turn away from me as well. Say you love me. Be my queen.”

You were left breathless by his words. He had released you from his hold and circled back around to stand in front of you. Thorin leaned in, eyes flickering to your lips briefly. It was beyond tempting. All you had to do was lean in a few mere inches, and you would feel his lips on yours. It was what he wanted, and it was what you wanted…

“I have to go,” you stated, putting some distance between the two of you. Thorin’s lips pulled down in a frown as you stepped around him.

“You’re making a mistake,” he called over his shoulder. “An offer such as this will not come again.”

You hesitated at the doorway, shaking your head. “Then so be it.” And then you left. You didn’t dare look back as you hurried down the halls to get as far away from him as possible. He was crazy. Insane.

And so are you for turning him down, a small voice screamed from within your mind. You could have been his, even for a short time. You could have had his love, even if it was twisted. His kiss. His embrace… It could all have been yours if you had just said so.

But it was wrong, and you knew it, to take advantage of his situation.

“Bilbo!” You halted when you rounded a corner and almost collided with him. “Where are you off to?”

He glanced around to make sure no one was near, holding a long rope coiled up in his hand. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. I am taking the Arkenstone to Bard to use for bargaining. It’s the only way the people of Lake-Town will get their fair share. Hopefully, we will avoid war.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”

“Thank you, ________,” he whispered gratefully. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You pulled him into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll see you later!” You parted ways with the hobbit once more, him heading for the front gate while you lingered in the corridor. You felt so alone, standing there. None of the dwarves could understand the situation.

It wasn’t the time to tell Bilbo what had occurred with Thorin. It would be yet another dark secret to weigh on you for now, along with the possible fate of the journey.

That night, the dwarves talked and laughed by the fire as usual. Even though they had all of Erebor to go off and choose a room from, the Company still liked to gather together to share a meal and camp out just like old times. Fortunately, Thorin never participated, spending his days and nights in the throne room. You joined the group, glad to have something take your mind off of the recent events. Bofur led the group in a few songs, Fili and Kili told jokes, Nori and Dori bickered and teased each other, Ori laughed along with Bombur, Bifur, Oin, and Gloin.

Balin and Dwalin were in a more solemn mood, but couldn’t help cracking a smile every now and then. At some point, the dwarves started sharing stories of hilarious hardship over the course of the quest.

“But don’t you remember the time in the beginning of the journey when we had to cross that river?” Bofur asked with a grin, earning a few bursts of laughter. “Quite a few of us took a plunge that day!”

“I lost a lot of supplies,” Bombur said with a nod.

“And what supplies you did have left was soaked!” Bofur laughed, slapping his knee.

“I do recall the stew being soggier than usual that night,” Gloin joked.

“Or what about the afternoon when _________ quite literally got sick of traveling?” A teasing grin spread across Kili’s face. “She jumped off of her pony to go throw up in the bushes.”

“Hey! I felt terrible that day!” you protested playfully. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever ridden a pony all day every day for weeks before.”

“The best part was that Thorin scolded her anyway for holding the Company up,” Fili chuckled.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I remember a time when you and your brother were supposed to be watching the ponies and nearly got us all eaten by trolls when we had to go find them.”

“Ooh, that’s cold,” Kili feigned offense, unable to hide the amused grin.

“You don’t miss a thing, lass,” Bofur teased.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. No one asked about Bilbo, or wondered aloud where he was. The hobbit had been spending more time alone as of late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to not join them for dinner. He would return before dawn, you knew, but as each hour passed that evening, you became a little more anxious.

You managed to set aside your worries and let sleep overtake you. You fell into a deep sleep, and a certain dwarf king haunted your dreams that night.

#the hobbit x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin imagine #the hobbit imagine #thorin x you #the hobbit x you #thorin oakenshield imagine #hobbit imagine #thorin reader insert #thorin oakenshield reader insert #the hobbit reader insert #the company reader insert #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin #thorin the hobbit #hobbit thorin

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rexsjaigeyes · 4 years ago

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congrats on the milestone🎉🎉🎉 I woke up feeling angsty so.... 18 with Boba if u want!👉👈💞💞

Thank you! I know this is really late, but hopefully you still want that angst!

Prompt #18 by @starrynightdeancas: “I don’t trust you anymore.”

Boba Fett x gender neutral reader

Words: 1.3k (I am so sorry lmao it was supposed to be a drabble)

Warnings: so much angst, semi-unhappy ending

A/N: Think of this as an alternate version of Rekindle. Not necessary to read it before reading this, but def has a similar plot so it might sound familiar to some.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You should have known that the whispers of his name within Tatooine wouldn’t have been for nothing, but you were not prepared to come face-to-face with Boba Fett. To others, he was purely a fearsome bounty hunter and now practically royalty. But to you, he was a ghost from your past — your thought-to-be-dead lover and a former partner whom you trusted with your life.

You knew it was selfish to think about the meaning behind him keeping such a secret from you, but you couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to wrong him so much that he never told you he was alive. Was your whole relationship a lie? The relationship on which you had built years of trust suddenly vanished as soon as you set your eyes on his freshly-painted armor. Bile rose to your throat as you locked eyes with the green helmet across the throne room.

You felt like you were frozen in place, your feet staying rooted to your spot in the corner of the crowded room. He held your gaze for far too long, and every second that passed made you feel smaller and smaller under his unwavering gaze. A woman approached you, and you wouldn’t have even noticed her if she hadn’t stopped right in front of your line of sight. You almost jumped back, so unaware of your surroundings that you hadn’t even heard the woman sneak up on you.

She regarded you with a stoic expression, only sparing a quick inquisitive glance over your body before nodding over her shoulder and demanding, “Follow me.”

You knew she was taking you to Boba, and as much as it scared you to finally confront him, you felt more intimidated by the woman in front of you, so you wordlessly did as she said. She weaved through the crowd, expecting you to be a few steps behind her without sparing a glance over her shoulder to check. If you weren’t shaking from nerves, you would have been in awe of the intricate palace as she led you down a hallway to a small room isolated from the noise of the throne room.

She told you to wait there, but you felt like jumping out a window if it meant you could escape this poorly-planned attempt to gain closure from your old lover. It was too late for you to berate yourself any further because the door slid open, and you inhaled sharply as Boba entered the room. And just like that, you already felt your resolve slipping. He looked as large and imposing as ever, but you knew that beneath all the armor, there must have been at least some of the man you grew to love all those years ago.

He approached you slowly before carefully lifting a hand to your cheek. You didn’t mean to wrench your head away, but your body moved of its own accord, and you were shocked to feel wetness on your cheeks as you looked away from him. He didn’t move or say a word, and you knew he’d stay like that forever if you didn’t make the first move. So with angry tears streaming down your face, you said what had been on your mind since the moment you heard he was alive.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Boba?”

His silence felt deafening, and it only made you angrier. You looked up from the ground, once again locking eyes on that damn helmet that you hated at this moment. He didn’t even have the decency to show you his face — the face you had memorized and longed to see again. It seemed like everything he had once trusted you with was now gone, and it hurt far too much to see how distant he was with you. Despising the silence, you decided to take advantage of it and let the bubble of emotions within your chest finally burst.

“I thought you were dead,” you spat with narrowed eyes. You wished you could gauge his emotions, but it was always so hard with the helmet on. He stood still while you continued, “I mourned you, Boba. Do you understand that I thought you were gone this whole time? For 5 years...”

He still remained silent, and your eyes searched his visor for any sign that he even acknowledged the weight of what you said. Scoffing, you decided this was a waste of time if he didn’t even want to answer you. You made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Wait,” he said softly, and you almost cried again just from hearing that voice that you hadn’t heard in so long. “Let me explain.”

You turned, desperately trying not to lean back into his embrace once his hand left your wrist. A beat of silence passed, and you felt your patience wear thin. Boba stuttered as he tried to explain himself — something you hadn’t expected from someone like him. But as he tripped over his words, you deciphered what he was ultimately trying to say.

He never found you because he had other things he had to take care of. You understood what he was trying to say, and you empathized with everything he had gone through on his own. But it hurt that he thought he couldn’t reach out to you for help. And the worst part was that you were all alone for the past 5 years, when you could have been with the most important person in your life instead.

“I could have helped you,” you whispered, feeling more tears well in your eyes. “You didn’t have to go through that alone. And you have no idea what I went through on my own too, Boba. I had no one else but you.”

But he already knew that last bit. That’s what stung the most. He knew everything about your past and that you were all alone in such a large galaxy. You had all but pledged your allegiance to him so many years ago, promising to stay by his side no matter what. And you thought he meant it when he promised the same thing too, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Was it all just a lie?

You could have sworn you heard a soft whisper of an apology before Boba reached out for you again. You let him hold your face this time, but you couldn’t bear to look at him while your tears stained your cheeks.

“I’m here now, cyare.” His thumb brushed away one of your tears, but you cringed at the familiar Mando’a nickname he had given you so long ago. “You can join me here, at the palace,” he offered.

You had half a mind to take him up on that offer. But you knew that the hurt you still felt would only fester into more distrust for Boba. You needed time, and you needed to know he wouldn’t leave you again.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head and pulled away from him, your heart lurching in your throat as you tried to say the words you wish you didn’t have to say. “I don’t know if I can trust you anymore. I– I need time.” You turned your back on him, unable to look at him, even with his face covered by the helmet. “Goodbye, Boba,” you murmured over your shoulder, trying to keep more tears at bay with a shuddering breath.

You weren’t sure how much time you’d need, but you hoped that one day, you’d be able to return to the palace and join Boba’s side. And until that day comes, maybe you could finally learn to live on your own, without relying on a ghost from your past.

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#i am SO sorry for how poorly written this is #Idk why this prompt was so hard for me #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x y/n #boba fett x you #boba fett x gender neutral reader #divswrites #1.7k follower celebration

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wickxdangels · 5 years ago

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George Weasley Imagine; Overprotective Georgie.

This is actually the very first Harry Potter imagine I’ve ever done! I’m always reading them so it’s kinda weird to be on the other side of the screen making them, but it’s so exciting! Remember, english is not my first language, so if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes please let me know! I appreaciate corrections :) I hope you all enjoy it and thanks for the requests and support! x

Pairing; George Weasley x Reader.

Warnings; Fluff

Request; Would you do a fluff George Weasley request where his significant other is the Golden Trios age and friend and her family is apart of the Order of the Phoenix so the summer before her 6th year Death Eaters attack her family and George is worried/overprotective of the idea of her going back to Hogwarts?

It was afternoon, when Y/n walked on her backyard, admiring the roses and different kinds of flowers that were growing there. The sun hitting on the surface of each one, highlighting their vibrant colors.

Summer was definitely her favorite season, even though she missed her friends quite a lot during it, she so much loved and preferred the warmth of the sun against her skin, instead of the biting coldness that winter brings.

Harry must’ve having the time of her life, along with Hermione and Ron, she thought. They have decided to spend their summer before sixth year together, she on the other hand, could not.

Her parents, who worked with the Order of the Phoenix, took a well-deserved little summer break; so instead of planning attacks in the Order headquarters, against You-Know-Who and his followers, or traveling to different places to find allies to join the cause, they were spending it with their only daughter. They’ve come to the raw realization that family-time nowadays were scarce, lots of members have lost their family members while fighting for the Order, so this summer they wanted to spend it with their daughter before she returned to Hogwarts.

“Sweetie, how about I make your favorite meal for supper?” Her mother softly asked, leaning against the door of the backyard as she stared at her daughter, who was now walking towards the inside of her house after a few minutes of taking in the sun.

“Sure, mum. That sounds good by me, where’s dad?” She asked, closing the door behind her as she looked back at her mom.

“He’s in the study, dear. He’s now having a little talk with Remus and some of the members of the Order. We better not interrupt him.” Her mother replied.

She nodded, watching as her mother smiled once last time to her as she disappeared to the kitchen. Y/n sighed as she walked up the stairs towards her room, her dad would always be busy with the order, and she understood that. They were very protective over Harry and even more so after the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, last year.

As she opened the door of her room, she heard a little slow tap coming from her window, she quickly walked towards it and found an grey owl sitting on the edge of it, a letter on its beak as it breathed heavily, noticeable tired of the journey it had just traveled.

“Oh, Errol. The Weasley’s really need to lay off with you for a bit, you seem old enough to retire, buddy.” She chuckled as she opened her window, the owl stepping inside of her room rather quickly as it opened its beak, letting the letter fall to the small night table under the window before the owl itself passing out and falling to the floor.

Y/n just shook her head, smiling at the tired and old owl before grabbing it softly and placing it at the end of her bed. She then sat down as well and opened up the letter resting in her hands, wondering who was it from.

Dear Sweetheart,

I’m writing you to check up on you, how has your summer been so far? I’ve missed your face and of course, pulling pranks on you.. maybe I missed the latter a little bit more… No, never mind, I really miss your beautiful face, the picture I keep on my nightstand of you, really doesn’t make justice.

Mum’s been bugging me to tell you she also misses you quite dearly, and wishes for you to visit us for Christmas, she says something about having a present for you already; you know her.

Fred’s been sending more and more letters to Angelina, and he finally admitted to me their relationship is official, good for him. That way we won’t have to drag him around and he won’t have to complain about being a bad third.

Anyways, it’s been fun here in The Burrow with Harry and Hermione, we’ve been playing Quidditch and coming up with new pranks for the upcoming semester at Hogwarts. Ginny is still acting weird towards Harry and Hermione still blushes every time Ron is around, nothing much has changed.

I really hope you’re taking care of yourself and enjoying your time with your parents, I know you desired having them more time with you, so I’m happy you finally got the chance to do so.

I miss you more and more each day, so expect more letters from me as I expect more from you, your handwriting is adorable if I must say so.

Well, I’m running out of ink so I must bid you an adieu.

I’m really looking forward to seeing you when school starts. I love you so much, sweetheart. Always remember that.

Yours,

The best-looking Weasley twin, George.

Pd: Please, allow Errol to take a nap before sending him back, if not he’ll probably pass out mid-air. I know, I know, he’s too old but he still does his job correctly, or so I hope. Thanks baby.

The letter sure made her heart ache for him even more, he had missed him dearly all summer long. Missing the way his red hair gleamed under the sunlight and the way his warm eyes would stare at her whenever she would tell him about Snape being hard on her in Potions class. She missed the way he would always wink at her standing on the bleachers before any Quidditch match, and how they would cuddle in their common room whenever winter nights were too cold.

She looked at the old owl with a smile on her face before standing up to look for her parchment and quill to write her reply letter.

_______________

A few hours later, she finished her supper and was currently laying on her bed, reading a new book her mother had bought for her for some light summer reading, in the background little snores came from Errol, she didn’t even know owls could snore but at least that was a sign that the owl bird was still alive, she wondered how old the bird was.

She looked at the clock, it was already 11:30 pm as she sat down and placed her book on her desk, Errol finally stirring awake from his long nap as he looked at her.

“Good to know you’re awake buddy, hope you had a good nap.” She said, softly stroking his grey feathers as he just hooted.

She stood up from the bed and walked towards her desk, grabbing the letter from it before giving it to the owl. Errol then with its little foot grabbed on her fingers as she opened the window, helping the owl take impulse before flying off to the dark sky.

She sighed, closing the window before sitting down on her bed. She was counting the days until the day she would see George again.

Hopefully soon.. she thought.

It must’ve been some hours past midnight, probably around 3 am when she heard some weird noises in her backyard, she shrugged it off thinking it must be the neighbor’s cat who always jumped to their backyard from time to time, but then she heard another rustling sound and a cold breeze hit her body, not usual for a summer’s night.

She quickly woke up, grabbing her wand from her desk where she usually kept it in case of emergency, and she sure knew this was an emergency.

She quickly ran towards her parent’s bedroom, both of them still asleep as she woke them up in a haste. “Mum, Dad, quickly! Wake up!” She half-yelled, not wanting to make the unwanted guest know they were aware of their surprise visit.

Her parents, who were opening their eyes in confusing. “Wh-what? What’s going on, sweetheart?” Her dad asked, he noticed the wand in her hand as she looked back and forth around the room.

“Death Eaters! I-i think they are here!” She breathlessly said as both of their parents were quick to grab their wands and stand up from the bed, the mom wrapped her arms around the daughter’s shoulders as she tried to calm her, her father quickly going out of the room and checking through Y/n’s window that was the only one facing the backyard.

Death Eaters, indeed. He was surprised that they had found out their location; it was a matter of time, he supposed. He watched as they just stood there for a bit before another Death Eater apparated there, probably the leader of the rest. With some quick words and nods, he saw as they muttered a quick Incendio spell from their wands, as fire erupted from them, the flames embracing the flowers his wife had planted and quickly spreading to the house, he saw as they walked inside and it was a matter of time before they ran into each other.

He ran back towards his room, looking at both his wife and daughter. “Do we fight them, dad?” Y/n asked, always brave and ready for the action whenever it was needed, a true Gryffindor like himself. “No sweetie, we are not fighting them. They outnumber us and I’m not ready to take any chances with you two here. We have to leave at once!” He quickly grabbed some bags he had hiding behind a desk. “I have already made a emergency plan if this was ever to happen, now everybody grab my hand.” Her dad was quick to say as he could her things breaking downstairs, Y/n was shocked to see her dad not putting up a fight. “But dad! We cannot let them destroy our house!” She exclaimed as she faced her father.

“Sweetie, your and your mother lives are more important to me than the house. Property can be replaced, lives cannot.” He maintained a fixed composure, he knew that he had to be brave in front of his family.

They took a moment to nod before they heard footsteps on the stairs, they quickly grabbed on his hand as they apparated out of the room just in time for the Death Eater to bust into the room, throwing the deadly curse at the wind.

Harry was right, was the first thing she thought.

Apparition really did feel like being forced through a very tight rubber tube, her stomach felt uneasy, after all it was her first time using this method of travel. It was quicker than floo powder, for sure, but not her favorite at all.

She looked up to find herself in very familiar surroundings, her dad took no time in walking towards the big house that was in front of them, she looked around and her mother softly caressed her hair “Are we..?” Her mother nodded. “The Burrow, darling. We all agreed to come here in any type of emergency, now let’s go and say hi to the Weasley’s.”

They both quickly walked towards the big four-story home, she looked down at her outfit, kind of glad she didn’t decide to wear her more childish but comfortable pajamas, she looked up just in time to see the patriarch of the family, Arthur Weasley, come out of the door with Molly by his side, both of them carrying worried faces as the rest of the home started to lit up completely, waking up everybody.

“Hello, Molly.” Y/n mom softly said, with a sad tone to her voice as the redhaired woman approached them. “I’m thankful all of you are alright, it would’ve devastating if they have invaded both of our homes.”

“Oh, dear! I’m just thankful that you three made it out without a scratch! Now, come on! Let’s get you all settled down, a pot of tea is already waiting for us.” Molly said with a tender smile as she embraced both of the women, walking inside as her dad and Arthur wandered off to contact the rest of the Order to let them know of the attack.

Once they got inside the house, their worries seemed to disappear by the second, her head was still wild thinking about her home being burned to the ground.

“Mum, what’s going on—” the sentence was quick to fly from George’s lips as he walked down stairs to find his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s mum in his kitchen, when she heard the voice of George she was swift on her feet to run towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he quickly embraced her, burying his face on her neck, breathing in her sweet fragrance. “Merlin’s beard!” He cussed out, “Babe, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” George quickly asked, wanting to put an end to his doubts, don’t get him wrong, he was happy to have her in his arms but confused as to why they apparated at 3 am in his house.

“They attacked our house! Death Eaters, George! They came out of nowhere and burned our home!” She cried out, her eyes filling up with tears as she hugged him tighter, wanting to feel the warmth and protection of his body embracing her. “I wish I could’ve done something, fought them! they just burned it down. I just feel so hopeless.”

“Don’t you dare say that! You are one of the bravest Gryffindors I know. It was better to avoid fighting them now, we have to prepare for battle and it wouldn’t be nice training with a wounded girlfriend.” He joked a bit, trying to brighten her mood up a bit as she chuckled between sobs before cleaning away her tears. “I guess you’re right..”

“When am I not right, babe?” He winked at her as he kissed her lips softly.

“Okay, now you’re just getting cocky.” She replied shaking her head.

Seconds laters, the whole pack came down, Fred and Ginny along with The Golden Trio who were quick to check up on her and ask questions, Harry getting furious at the Death Eaters once again, tired of them coming after their friends.

“It’s not your fault, Harry, dear. We knew what we were getting ourselves into when we agreed to be part of The Order and we wouldn’t want it any other way.” Y/n’s mom said as she caressed Harry’s cheek, Y/n nodded at the statement.

“Okay, kids. It’s time for you to go back to sleep, we can discuss this tomorrow when things have calmed down.” Molly said as she hushed the teens up to their rooms. “I know you’re a bit shaken up, sweetie. So, with your mum’s approval, I’m gonna make the exception for you to sleep in Georgie’s room, but no funny business! The walls are too thin, remember!”

That night, with her mom and Molly’s approval, Y/n slept with George’s arms embracing her, feeling more protected and comforted, when she said she hoped to see him soon, she didn’t mean like this, but she was glad to be back in his arms. Even if Fred’s snores were too loud.

_______________

Days and weeks have gone by, Y/n and her parents have found safe sanctuary and a place to stay at The Order’s headquarters at 12 Grimmauld Place, known as The Black’s family home. It had every security measure known to wizardkind, as Sirius once said, so they felt safe staying there for the time being.

They’ve gone back to their home, everything was pretty much destroyed except some knick knacks here and there and some family pictures that they’ve brought back to the headquarters. As her dad said, property can be replaced and they were on the process of finding a new place.

The Death Eaters have become more and more aggressive, finding more places to burn to the ground and more allies to torture.

The Weasley’s and The Golden Trio have visited quite a lot, practicing spells and dueling as they prepared for the upcoming battle, that meant more time with George and she couldn’t complain, of course having her friends around was pretty amazing too.

There were few days left of summer, as she packed the remains of her belongings and her robes in suitcases, preparing for going back to Hogwarts. She was a bit excited to go back to school, cause this year had interesting courses she was dying to be part of. Yes, she was very alike Hermione when it came to school, one of the reasons the two got along so well, but she also liked to have fun from time to time, another reason she and The Golden Trio kicked it off good.

“What are you doing?” George’s voice asked as he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms as she stared at her while she finished packing.

“Packing for Hogwarts, of course.” She replied in an obvious tone to him as she finished zipping up her baggage.

“I don’t think going back to Hogwarts might be safe for you, considering everything that happened with the Death Eaters and lots of the Slytherin kids are their offspring..”

“C’mon, Georgie.” She used Molly’s pet name for him. “You can’t be serious. It’s Hogwarts we are talking about! Probably one of the most safe places I could think of!” She was kind of exaggerating with that last part, Hogwarts has been anything but safe these last few years, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to finish her education, even if that meant one or two accidents here and there.

“I am serious, Y/n! I don’t want you running into any danger at Hogwarts, and we both know you’re quite good at that..” He raised his brow at her before walking towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Oh, really? You’re the one telling me that, Mr. Troublemaker?” She giggled as she placed her arms around her neck, bringing him down a bit to then place a soft kiss against his lips. “Besides, we both know that if I’m ever in deep trouble, you’ll always be there for me, right?” She asked.

“Always.”

“Then, let’s just think about how cool will it be to be back at school. We could go to Hogsmeade, maybe make-out in our free periods..” She slowly explained.

“There’s no way I’m convincing you otherwise, is there?”

“Sometimes, you truly are brilliant, Georgie.” She giggled as she pecked his lips once again. “Now, come on. Let me show you some new pranks I’ve been thinking of.”

They really were made for each other.

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aricazorel · 4 years ago

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I was tagged by @ripley95 for Fic Flashback Friday. Thank you!

Messages is a story I wrote a couple of years ago about Kora (Kori) Reese but only began posting it on AO3 in March 2020. It centered around the idea of a female character being part of the original Normandy crew and developing a relationship with Kaidan Alenko. While it actually takes place during the months before the beginning of Mass Effect 3, it details some of their relationship during ME1 and 2 and how they went from crew mates to friends to lovers to ex-flames. and eventually getting back together. I've since written a sequel called Broken Road and a plethora of prompts about their relationship.

I am a huge F!Shenko fan but the idea of Kori kept popping up whenever I went to write Mas Effect. I know first hand that Kaidan is not the most popular romance in the fandom (sometimes problematic for some people even) and pairing him with an OC that is not Shepard almost ensures your story is never going to be a popular one. But they have found an audience with some people and I'm happy with that. I write for me and if you happen to like it too, awesome.

So to introduce Kori and Kaidan here is Chapter 5 of Messages in its entirety. Or you can read Messages from the beginning here on AO3.

Tuesday June 27, 2186 CE, Vancouver-Seattle megaplex, Earth

Reese glanced around the café Kaidan had suggested they meet at. It was in the commercial district of the Vancouver-Seattle megaplex and very busy. It had taken her 25 minutes just to get to the café and make sure it was the right one after the air taxi had dropped her off. She hated crowds almost as much as Kaidan did, but he had insisted they had the best cappuccinos in the city. He had grown up there so he must know. At least she hoped…

She sat at a table for two in the corner waiting for the Major to appear. He was usually the one early and she late but not this time. The Lt. Cmdr. was starting to wonder if he had begun to have second thoughts; she had. But she still came.

Reese glanced at the chrono on her omni-tool. Fifteen minutes late. Did she call him? Message him? Leave a note with the waiter? Just leave and forget about the whole thing?

She let out a frustrated growl as she propped her forehead against her hand. Could things possibly get more complicated? Suddenly her omni-tool signaled that she had a message. Sighing she opened it up guessing it was a ‘sorry couldn’t make it’ text. The holo screen popped up and read, “Look up.”

Frowning the tech glanced up to find a tee shirt and blue jean clad Kaidan Alenko standing before her. He smiled down at her as he held onto a black leather jacket slung over his shoulder. “Hey there.”

“Hey yourself,” she replied as she scooted the opposite chair out for him with her foot. “You’re late, Alenko.”

“Would you believe traffic?” he asked hopefully as he eyed her own outfit. She wore a pair of jeans too but sported a blue tank top covered by a fitted jean jacket. The sentinel’s appreciative gaze was not lost on her.

She decided to give him a break and replied, “I’ll believe you. It took me a while too.”

An expression of relief appeared on his face as he asked, “Thanks. Have you ordered anything?”

“No. That would have been rude,” Reese replied with a smile as she noticed Kaidan was still ‘taking in the view.’ “Is there something I can help you with, Major? You seem to be concentrating very hard on something…”

Kaidan’s face instantly turned red as he cleared his throat. “I, umm, couldn’t help but notice how amazing you look…”

She cocked an eyebrow as she brought up the virtual menu. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said as he started looking at the screen. After a moment he glanced back at her and asked, “So you’re not going to hit me?”

Reese snorted and said, “No, I’m not going to hit you, you big baby.”

Kaidan began to protest the name-calling and she added softly, “You were being nice…”

“It was more than being nice, Reese. I meant it. You look beautiful,” he said sincerely as he watched her play with her hair. She wore the long dark locks in a loose side pony tail. Her hair was nearly down to her waist now. Three years ago it had only been to just below her shoulders.

Kaidan grinned as he realized as much as things had changed many things had stayed the same. They sat in silence for several long minutes, each keying in their orders. Finally, after the menu disappeared, she said, “You’re looking good too, Kaidan. Actually it’s given several of the girls I work with plenty of gossip fodder.”

He looked at her closely and said, “You’re…embarrassed. Aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say that,” the tech denied without looking him in the eye.

“You didn’t have to. Everything else did,” he replied with a smirk. “Kora Reese is actually embarrassed.”

“No and don’t use that name,” she snapped.

Kaidan held up his hand in surrender. “Okay. Fine. You’re uncomfortable then, Lt. Cmdr. But why?”

“Kaidan…”

“Don’t Kaidan me. We’ve been talking for months and now I find out you’re uncomfortable. Embarrassed more likely and I’m the cause of it,” Alenko snapped as he slumped against the back of his chair.

“No, that’s not it…I just…I’ve never liked people knowing my business I guess,” Reese replied quietly. “I’m not…They’ve seen me talking to you on the vid chat and I got used to working alone except Tali…and she doesn’t tease…a lot…I just don’t—I didn’t mean—“

“Reese, you’re rambling,’ Alenko said calmly, his own annoyance subsiding.

She looked at him with cloudy grey eyes. “I don’t want to fight, Kaidan. I just want to…spend time with you, get to know you again.”

“I want that too, Reese,” he replied reaching across the table with an opened hand.

She looked into his whiskey colored eyes and then at his hand. Smiling she took it and said, “It’s a step.”

“Baby steps, remember?” he said as their order arrived.

She nodded. Maybe old wounds could heal…

“So is this the end of our ‘coffee’ date then?” Kaidan asked as he kicked the pavement with his boot.

“Well, technically yes, but I…it’s doesn’t really have to be…” Reese replied slowly as she looked at his boot. He did look really good out of uniform…

Alenko snapped his head up to look at the Lt. Cmdr. in surprise. “What does that mean?”

She looked up shyly at him. “I…I’m not exactly sure but I don’t think I want to end our date just yet.”

“Reese, I don’t want to push—“

“Kaidan, you were never able to push me into anything…except maybe a wall and that lead to other things…” she interrupted and then trailed off as soon as she remembered what she was saying.

The Major hesitantly reached for her hand and offered, “We could go somewhere else. It’s still light out. There’s a park…and a beach but that’s too far—“

“We’ve been to a park and I’m not going to the beach without a swim suit,” she replied as he started to withdraw his hand.

“We could go back to one of our places…” she added as she grabbed his hand.

“Reese, I’m not sure that’s…”

“Kaidan, if you don’t want to—“

“Oh no, Reese, I didn’t say that. It’s just…after everything…”

“Kaidan, we both said we wanted another chance, but we have to be able to take hold of it…”

Suddenly she found herself pulled into Kaidan’s strong embrace, one hand wrapped tightly around her waist, the other cradling the base of her head. She felt his five o’clock shadow graze her face as he lightly kissed her cheek. Reese found herself returning the embrace without hesitation and sighed.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kaidan whispered into her ear, “We’re drawing attention, Kori.”

She pulled away and looked around. Apparently the passersby had nothing better to do than stare, but Reese thought that she heard Kaidan’s name repeated several times. She snorted and said softly, “I think you’ve got a fanbase, Major.”

He looked around more closely himself and retorted, “Maybe they like the hot chick I’m with.”

“Don’t call me a chick, techboy,” she cautioned as he began leading her by the hand away towards an air taxi call point.

“I love it when you’re bossy,” Kaidan said as he signaled for a taxi.

She laughed and replied, “Patience, techboy, patience.”

Alenko woke up in an unfamiliar place on an unfamiliar couch with something warm next to him. He blinked back the sleep and glanced beside him. He found Reese spooned up against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hair spilling across his chest. He reached down and caressed her check. They had fallen asleep at her apartment watching old 20th century movies.

She stirred slightly and then smiled. “Kaid.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the use of her nick name for him. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’m here, Kori.”

“Don’t leave,” she said sleepily, curling up to him.

He couldn’t decide if she was awake or not. He wasn’t sure what to say. Everything had been so jumbled and then he’d run into her by chance and now here he was on her couch with her. Instead he settled for hugging her tightly to his chest as he ran a hand through her long dark hair. He had missed playing with the long-tangled tresses. The few times they had truly been alone he had even brushed it for her which usually led to something else. He’d never admit to anyone how much of a thing he had for her long hair, but it wasn’t like it was a secret to her.

As he continued to play with her wavy locks, she stirred again. This time she opened her eyes and smiled at him. Her grey eyes were calm and content as she placed a hand on his cheek. “You stayed.”

“Yeah,” he said simply with a grin meant only for her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

#fic back friday #mass effect #kaidan alenko #kori reese #messages #read on ao3 #ao3fic

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your-new-valentine · 4 years ago

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Lament no. 1

Love is such a strange thing. It's born in the most unordinary way. It appears seemingly from nothing, yet it causes us to act so strongly. It's such a curious disease that plagues us all in one way or another. Whether through jealousy, greed, contentment, or even pride, it finds us all. It creeps up, and suddenly, you find yourself smitten with someone you barely know or, possibly, someone you thought you hated. If you're lucky, though, love will be kind and let you love the one you always wanted to love. That man or woman you've wished for will smile, and you will know it's right, and love will take your hand and theirs. But if you are truly lucky, love will overlook you. It will find you too worthy or unworthy for its schemes and plans. And most can only hope to be so lucky.

If you were to ask if I have been in love, I'd be a fool to lie and say I hadn't. May it be only twice, but it's felt like countless loves and sorrows have passed me by.

She was my first and I wish was my last. Her eyes were never dull, but I suppose every man says that about the woman he loves most. Her cherry red lips would smile against that soft snow-like skin, inviting me into the embrace I needed far too much. No man deserves a woman so sweet and caring and kind, especially no man like myself. I treated her the best I could but never able to match her enthusiasm and effort. I was no strong man fit for that strong woman. I still am not. She needs me not, but I need her. Alas I will get by as I did before her. Or at least I am trying.

He was the next and hopefully the last. It's strange what love has done to me here. He taught me many things. Hate can turn into love, I say, but sometimes love into hate. And sometimes both. Sometimes even sworn enemies can fall in love just to rush at the other with a knife as if nothing had happened. Even that fool knows that. Perhaps that's why he avoids our love. He knows. He's scared. No doubt, I'm afraid too, but of that and more. I don't even know if it is right for a man to love a man, but what choice have I got? I can suffer alone, or I can suffer in my man's arms. The choice seems rather hard, but after a second of thinking, I've come to decide I'd pick the latter. Yet still, I wonder when our relationship will return to its rivalry. I pray it not be soon, though perhaps it's best to get it over with.

Dare not I say I deserve to feel such bliss that is love whether with man or woman. All I feel I deserve is the same as the next man, and what does he deserve? I couldn't answer. I am only a simple man pondering the sin which is love. Maybe someday mankind will find a way to eradicate love, simplifying the human experience. But nay, that day won't be soon, for we are all far too in love to look past our own noses. A perfect life could be at our fingertips, but no matter what, we would pick those we love. Strength or weakness, I couldn't say, but the dedication that is love is almost admirable. Almost.

#i think this is poetry #maxwil #william aka maxwell #writing

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years ago

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Supernatural Crack🩹tober

Day 16: Hair Swap

He returns on a Tuesday. Walking through the door, duffel bag slung over his shoulder and spinning his keys on his fingers. Cas sees Dean at the map table, back facing him. Short hair sticking wildly at all ends, hunched over as he watches a video on Sam’s laptop. Shaking with silent laughter. The sight makes his heart swoon, Cas falling deeper in love despite the previous record set yesterday when Dean called because he texted a frowny face. They spoke well into the evening, until Cas fell asleep.

Dean has not heard him yet, so Cas uses it to his advantage. Silently descending the stairs, he creeps towards the other man. Runs his fingers through Dean's hair and drops a small kiss along the crown. “Hello, Dean.”

It wasn’t Dean.

Sam’s face comes into view, an earbud falling out. “Cas!” he says, slamming the space bar, “What are you doing?”

Cas pales, blinking. Looking from the younger Winchester’s face, then at his hair. Nothing adds up. “Sam?” he says, “you’re not…”

“I’m not what?”

“You’re not Dean.”

He snorts, turning fully in his seat. Languidly stretching, boots propped across a nearby, unoccupied chair. “Thought it’d be obvious,” Sam starts, lips pursing, “I am the more attractive brother. For a second I thought you broke and finally admitted your attraction to me, because then I’d have to awkwardly turn you down and hope it wouldn’t ruin yours and Dean's relationship.”

“I…” There’s a lot he said that Cas needs time digesting. He still hasn’t gotten past the hair. Nor Sam’s lazy smirk that reminded him of someone else. Before he can think more on this, he hears another person approaching. Deep timbre achingly familiar. “Dean? We’re in here – Dean!”

Dean steps into view, hair pulled tight in a bun. Smiling, like nothing was out of the ordinary. “Cas!” he says, striding forward with a glass of green liquid in hand, “I thought I heard you. Didn’t think you’d be back this soon, though.” He kisses him, free arm looping around Cas’s shoulder.

Cas hugs reflexively, nose scrunching in distaste. “You reek,” he says. And, as his hand trails across the damp planes of his shirt, Cas adds, “sweaty, too.”

Chuckling, Dean pulls away. “Yeah, I hadn’t showered yet. I was on my way, too, honest. Don’t like stewing in my yoga sweat for long.” He gestures at his outfit, the loose cotton t-shirt and shorts sticking at odd angles, toes flexing on the hardwood floors. “But I had to make sure someone was doing their research like he promised.” The pointed glare aimed at Sam strikes, the younger boy switching tabs with a rueful pout.

He hadn’t left them for more than three days. How did this happen? “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yeah, never better actually,” Dean says, “why do you ask?”

There were many reasons. Given how ordinary the brothers treated this situation, Cas opted for a simple lie. “It’s just… yoga?”

“I know,” his hunter sighs, leaning on map table. Tapping on his glass. “I normally do it every other day, but it was raining all morning and I didn’t feel like running in it. But I’m keeping with my juice schedule!”

“Your… juice schedule?”

Sam snickers, nudging Dean’s thigh with his elbow. “You know, Cas, it’s the thing Dean drinks that tastes like raw sewage and not… y’know, good?”

Dean needles him back, flicking his temple. “It is good. Good for you.”

“Chunky vegetable water isn’t good for me. Burgers are,” Sam stands, collecting his things. He offers a tiny salute in Cas’s direction before swaggering through the exit. “Which I’m gonna go ahead and make. Hopefully regain some of my appetite along the way. So long, bitches!”

Glaring at his retreated form, Dean sips at his juice. “Jerk.” Then, Dean downs the entire contents while Cas watched helplessly.

His mind ran through a number of possible scenarios. Dean and Sam were being possessed. Replaced by versions of themselves from a different universe. Under a spell. Touched a cursed object. Were playing an elaborately staged prank on him. The list grew infinitely. Stopping only when Dean snaps his fingers, drawing Cas out of his mind. “Hey,” he says, running a hand down his arm, “you okay?”

“Fine,” he answers, throat scratchy. He stumbles backwards, giggling. “I… it was a long trip. Guess I’m pretty – I’m tired.”

“Tired, huh?” Dean asks, grinning. Reading far past the shallow waters of his excuse. “Yeah, I guess I’m pretty beat, too. My body was such a tight knot, like I haven’t stretched in ages.” Or ever, Cas mentally tacks on. “If I wasn’t so filthy I’d collapse onto our bed and…” Dean demonstrates, shimmying onto the table and dropping. Legs helplessly kicking as they dangle over the edge. “Whoops,” he says, “give me a hand?”

Cas inches close enough he can grab Dean and lift. As he does, the hairtie holding the other man’s hair breaks and a waterfall of hair cascades across his shoulders. He gapes at the magnificence, unsure if Sam’s hair ever looked like that. Or was that long when he left.

“Dammit,” Dean growls, picking up the former accessory. Frowns at the broken circle, now a sad line. “I’m running out of these… oh well.” He tosses it blindly, tugging Cas into the space between his legs in the same breath. “Cas,” he says, “I thought you said you were tired?”

Cas winces, pants incredibly tight since the threadbare exercise shorts allow Cas to feel everything. “I did.”

“I was tired,” Dean sings, looping fingers around Cas’s wrist. Dragging the hand up, guiding it into his hair. “But if you want, I’m game for whatever. Better before I’ve showered than after, right?”

“Dean, I…” His protests still, Dean’s hand covering his and squeezing. Cas’s fingers threading through soft locks, a newer sensation that makes fireworks explode behind his eyes. He claws at Dean’s hair again, tighter. Those same bursts happen within Dean’s green gaze. “You like this?”

“Of course I like it, Cas. I love it.”

“No, no… I mean this.” He pulls Dean’s hair harder, a gasped moan stolen from his lips, “Having your hair pulled.”

Dean furrows his brow, playfulness waning. “Well, yeah. But it’s not like I’m the only one who gets off on it.”

“Hmm?”

“Cas?” Dean asks, pushing his arm away. Frowning, “Are you okay?”

In that instant, Cas makes a decision. Maybe not the best, but he sees it through. He places both hands on Dean’s scalp and grabs his hair, one after the other, in quick succession. The pupils of Dean’s eyes widen, and his adam’s apple throbs. Better yet, Cas’s leaking dick spasms. He did enjoy this. “Sorry,” Cas smiles, guiding Dean’s face towards his. Their lips hovering nearby, barely touching. “This hunt, it got me all turned around. But I can tell you about it after, okay?”

“Okay,” Dean kisses him, ankles crossed above his ass. “Less talk about work, more this.”

“Gladly.”

🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹

The next day, Cas sits with the Winchesters at the table as he explained the strange circumstances. “Apparently, when touching the finger trap,” he tells them, “it caused your personalities to switch… among other things.”

Sam sighs, brushing his bangs from his face. Hairstyle returning, the ends curling below Sam’s chin. “Thanks for figuring that out, Cas. Being Dean for two days was more than I’ve ever wanted to be.”

“I don’t think it was enough,” Dean snorts into his coffee. “Maybe if it was a week, my stunning personality would’ve rubbed off on you. Maybe then you'd be less of a wet blanket all the time.”

“Really, Dean? You wanted to drink those disgusting juices for a week?” At the mention, Dean’s stomach gurgles loudly. Dean shudders from the memory of happily inhaling those tinctures, cheeks tinted green. “That’s what I thought.”

“Whatever.” Dean stands, circling the table. Placing a sweet kiss atop Cas’s head. “Just glad you put everything back to normal.” He pulls on the hair tie at his wrist, quickly gathering wavy, chestnut locks and folding them into a messy bun. “I’m making omelets. Any requests – that aren’t vegetables, Sammy.”

“You're supposed to put vegetables in omelets!”

“Meats and cheeses only!”

Cas sighs, sipping at his own coffee while they bickered. Glad that both brothers were themselves again. At least, almost.

When researching the cause of Sam and Dean’s strange behavior, and after finding the cursed object responsible for it, Cas happened across a spell that could undo the finger trap’s effect. Returning what had been swapped. As he read through the ingredients, he kept flashing back on the wondrous night Dean and he shared together. The feel of his fingers through that long hair. Cas would miss it when Dean’s old hairstyle returned.

But, hidden within the margins, Cas found a scrawled note from Men of Letters past. Deciphering that faded chicken scratch, the writer added extra instructions. Variations of this spell that could change its effects. In the example given, a beauty mark stolen could be duplicated and shared between the donor and recipient. Cas wondered if it would apply elsewhere.

“Cas?” Dean calls, bundle of hair bouncing while he cooked. Dean swaying along with an imaginary song. “Cas, what do you want in your omelet?”

He stood, drifting closer. Wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and burying his nose in his hair. “I’ll have what you’ll have.”

“Two kitchen sinks then,” Dean grins, nipping at Cas’s lips. He shoots a stale glare over Cas’s shoulder, “and one pussy vegetarian.”

“Dean,” Cas nuzzles his cheek, laughing, “watch it. If you're not careful, some of your hair might fall in.”

Sighing, Dean focuses on his cooking. Extra cautious with how his bun flopped around. “You know,” he whispers, “sometimes I think I might be better off with a buzzcut...”

“Really?” Cas digs his fingers into Dean’s hairline, scraping it. Catching loose strands in his efforts. “You think so?”

Chuckling, Dean melts into Cas’s embrace. “Nah… short hair’s lame, and so not me.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

(Day 15 - Impala Alternate Paint Job)

#supernatural #spn #cracktober #profoundnet #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #long hair dean winchester #sam winchester #short hair sam winchester #castiel #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

Text

FIC: Casting Its Shroud Over All We Have Known

Summary: It's daylight and Edge has no interest in dealing with the secrets of the night. He's got plenty enough on his mind.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Brotherly Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy, More Angst

Warnings: Implied underage pregnancy. Implied miscarriages. Past Trauma.

~~*~~

Chapter List

What Will Be, Will Be

Something To Say, But Nothing Comes

Can’t Go On, Thinking Nothing’s Wrong

Seldom All They Seem

Voices Are Heard But Nothing Is Seen

Winter Makes You Laugh a Little Slower

That Place Where You Can’t Remember and You Can’t Forget

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was getting harder for Edge to get up in the mornings. Perhaps it was something to do with the differences in the universes that the mattresses were more comfortable. Or perhaps it was that the Swap brothers had a better furnace in their house and better blankets on their beds, keeping the space beneath the covers so toasty warm that it was difficult to leave it behind and head out into the cold Snowdin air in two difference Universes.

Or perhaps it was the fact that Rus was beneath those blankets with him and Edge was finding it more difficult by the day to leave Rus behind.

With great reluctance, Edge forced himself to climb out of the embrace of covers and Rus’s arms, hissing at the chill against his bare bones as he skinned into his trousers. Still in the bed, Rus made a dissatisfied little sound as he rolled into the warm spot Edge left behind without even waking up. And no wonder, he’d been up far too late last night on his talk with Red, he needed his rest.

Edge refused to think too deeply about that particular conversation. Last night’s secrets were best left in the darkness they crept out in. That was a door his brother closed a very long time ago and Edge had no interest in forcing it open. Red was his brother, he would always be his brother, and soon, he would be an uncle. Edge could only hope that he was willing to step into that role when the time came.

By the time he was finished dressing, Rus managed to somehow swathe himself into a ball of blankets and sheets, the top of his skull barely visible above the tangle. Hopefully, he’d sleep for some time yet. The baby was growing in leaps and bounds, Blue had already let out Rus’s normal pants twice and now Rus stuck with a pair of pajama pants and a very oversized sweatshirt that still didn’t manage to hide his rounded belly. Carrying around that unaccustomed weight was visibly exhausting for him, along with the constant drain on his magic that no amount of rest or food seemed to fully replenish. Despite Blue and their Undyne’s assurances that Rus was healthy enough, seeing him so worn was disheartening, especially since there was little Edge could do to help.

Soon, Edge told himself, soon the baby would be here, and Rus would never need to endure this again.

As unlikely as it was that anything would wake Rus, Edge shut the door carefully and made his way downstairs. He stepped out into the bracing cold and started to walk around the house to the basement stairs, his mind on his patrol, his scheduled training with Undyne tomorrow, and not at all on the happenings of the night before. He did not want to think about crouching in the dark, listening as Red slurred out the answers to the rumors Edge heard whispered around New Home whenever he was forced to meet with Asgore, he didn’t, and—

Years of living on the streets in Underfell ingrained in him a sense of constant awareness and Edge turned instinctively towards the figure coming up behind him at the first crunch of a boot through the crust of snow.

“Hey!” He only caught a glimpse of hulking yellow shouting at him before it moved in a blur, hands lashing out as they hurled axes formed from magic at him. Edge knew a killing attack when one was coming and this one was not. He dodged the axes easily and they struck the house without so much as denting the siding, dissolving in a burst of lightning. Edge dove for cover behind a tall pine tree and crouched down in wait, his own burning magic pulled forth and ready to sally an attack of his own as he eyed his opponent warily.

Alphys.

But not any Alphys he’d ever known. Edge hadn’t met this world’s version, he’d only seen her picture in passing, but there was no mistaking her. The facial resemblance to his own was uncanny and that was where the similarities ended.

No thick-lensed glasses for this version of Alphys. She was taller, close to Edge’s height, but much broader, a massive, hulking size. The arms of the jacket she wore against the cold strained, bulging muscles concealed beneath the cloth and one of her eyes was scarred and unseeing, milky white in contrast the blue blaze of the other. The claws on her hands were longer, sharper, and so were her teeth, every inch the ferocious Monster of Human legends.

She drew closer and Edge watched calculatingly, noting that her size certainly did not inhibit her movements; she walked with the grace of a predator and had the intelligence to stay out of arm’s reach. This was a formidable foe and from the way she eyed him up and down, she did not return that sentiment, saying bluntly. “You must be the baby daddy. You look like someone Papyrus would hook up with.”

Well, then. Edge stood up and stepped out from behind the tree to glare at her, since the rule of the day seemed to be rudeness given and rudeness returned, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She ignored the question, stamping in closer to loom in front of him. “I got something to say, so listen up, deadbeat. Papyrus can be a shitty brother and he’s a worse sentry. But if you hurt him, I’ll twist you around so hard you’ll be able to see your tailbone by looking up, you get me?”

He supposed she expected him to be irritated, angry, perhaps even to attack her. The thrumming static of magic was heavy in the air, she was braced and ready to absorb anything he sent her way. But Edge was already letting his formed magic drain away, he wasn’t angry in the slightest. On the contrary, it was comforting to know there was at least one person in Underswap who dealt properly in threats.

He lowered his head in a slight bow, allowing a small concession. “That’s good to know,” Edge said honestly. “Thank you for looking out for him.”

That must not have been the reaction Alphys was expecting. She blinked and every emotion she felt was on display as it ran across her face, confusion, irritation, a bare hint of cautious respect. It was so like his Undyne that Edge fought against a smile; her inability to keep her emotions properly under wraps was at least one of the reasons Undyne’s helmet had a face shield. Edge’s ability to school his features to bland unreadability was impeccable and he did, meeting Alphys’s scowling glare with calm sincerity.

“Guess you must not be too bad,” Alphys conceded grudgingly. She gave him a hard poke in the sternum with a finger that protruded from a fist nearly the size of a canned ham, “I’m watching you, deadbeat.”

“I’m sure you—"

Alphys didn’t wait for him to finish. She spun on her heel and tromped away, tail dragging in the snow as she headed in the direction of Underswap’s Waterfall.

The childish temptation to send an attack between her shoulders to knock her face-first into the snow was nigh on overwhelming. Edge resisted it; to begin with, Rus would likely not appreciate him going to war with the captain of the Underswap guard over a simple shovel speech. He also didn’t have the time to deal with the inevitable aftermath right now and regretfully, he turned towards the back of the house and headed to the basement stairs. Perhaps he could ask Blue to bring him along on one of his training sessions, a chance to spar with an unknown Monster was tantalizing, he might even learn a new move or two to use against his Undyne—

He spun around, magic surging to the fore again as words came out of nowhere around him.

“good thing you didn’t kill her, woulda pissed the blueberry off something awful.”

The speech was echoing, directionless, and Edge turned slowly, searching, until he caught sight of crimson eye lights peered slyly around the side of the house, Red’s serrated teeth curved in an irritating smile.

Edge shook away the attack and lifted his chin, stalking past his brother to the door. “You’ve hardly spoken to me for weeks and you think now is the time to interject your opinions?”

Red only shrugged and fell into step behind him through the door, their boots plodding heavily on the stairs. “what’s it matter? ain’t like you listen either way. you headed back home?”

“I am headed back to Underfell, yes.”

“uh huh.” Red shoved his hands into his pockets, watching as Edge turned on the machine. It hummed obediently to life and he keyed in the coordinates for their universe. “so this’s what you’re planning’ on doing, then? keep hopping back and forth, hoping one day you don’t zig instead of zag and get your ass dusted?”

“I don’t have an expansive selection of choices.” The moment the whine of the machine hit its highest pitch, Edge stabbed the button to open the portal. Shimmering, silent blackness formed in the gateway and Edge stepped through it and into his own universe. Perhaps it was the lingering chill of the void but somehow their basement always seemed colder than the Swap brothers’.

Red was still following him, stomping his feet as if trying to knock off any lingering void as he trailed behind Edge up the stairs. His voice rose over their echoing steps. “maybe not, but you got at least two, all nice and simple; stay here in the dust or stay there with rus and the kid.”

Edge stopped at the top of the stairs, his gloved hand resting on the doorknob. On the other side of the door was Underfell, with its promise of death and dust. And other children, other Monsters who were too weak to defend themselves against the LV hunters. People who needed the guard to protect them and the guard needed a Captain. “We can’t abandon the people of Snowdin.”

“you can’t abandon them,” Red grumbled out. Behind him, Edge could hear the rustle of clothing, the creak of the stairs as Red shifted his weight. He sighed heavily. “but i can’t abandon you. whatever you decide, boss, i’m with you.”

Edge closed his sockets and let his head drop, his forehead resting on the cold steel of the door. Not that he ever thought Red would abandon him, he hadn’t, but the last few weeks had been…unsettling. His brother had never been so cold to him before, his anger so unyielding towards Edge even as he kept watch over Rus and their child. His brother.

kid was a pain in the ass, but he was mine

“Thank you, brother,” Edge said, softly, and he meant every single word.

Then he firmly turned the doorknob and stepped out into his world. Only to be immediately grabbed and slammed back into the side of his house, and the only thing that spared Undyne’s good eye from a bone spearing through it was Edge aborting it so quickly that he felt the burn of backlash in his soul. He fought off the pain, hissing out, “What the fuck are you doing!”

“Me?” she snarled back. She was breathing too hard, agitated and angry, her teeth clenched around a sneer. Her clawed hand was icy around Edge’s cervical vertebra, she hadn’t even bothered to put on a jacket or gloves against the cold. “What the fuck did your brother do to Alphys?”

Ah. That explained the anger. Edge didn’t struggle in her grip, relaxing against the side of the house as he asked calmly. “Is she hurt?”

In her good eye, a tinge of red light suffused her pupil, her voice a near subsonic growl. “Guess that depends on your definition of hurt.”

“Then I suppose she should have considered Sans before she offered me her ‘congratulations’ on my child and asked after my significant other.” Acid fairly dripped from the words, as poisonous as Alphys’s offering of tea.

It took a moment for that to pierce Undyne’s temper but when it did, the manic redness in her gaze faded. Her grip loosened, then she let go entirely, her head dropping down between her shoulders as she hunched down, muttering out a string of curses, each more vile than the last.

Edge straightened his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from her grip even as he discreetly dissolved the thin stiletto of a bone that had been concealed in his palm. One of her nails must have torn through the fabric and he scowled, poking a finger through the hole irritably, “I take it she didn’t mention that.”

“Nah, she didn’t.” Undyne offered him a thin, toothy smile. “But she wasn’t talking much, anyway. Don’t think you need to worry about her pestering your skitten.”

For now, Edge did not say. “You might consider going back to her, it could be she’d appreciate your specific brand of comfort.”

A blotchy, ruddy blush infused her cheeks and she barked out a laugh, “I can get laid on my own, I sure as fuck don’t need any favors from your brother or advice from you, nerd.” A certain gleam rose in her eye, the very opposite of her earlier anger, “’course, it’d be stupid not to take advantage of a mood, wouldn’t it.”

“Do enjoy and do not tell me anything about it,” Edge said, dryly.

She laughed again, raucously loud, but it faded into an unexpectedly sober look. She glanced around, belatedly lowering her voice as she murmured, “Papyrus? For what it’s worth, I didn’t tell her about the kid.”

“I know.” He hadn’t, but it was good to hear her say it.

“See you tomorrow, nerd.” She turned on her heel and walked away before he could say another word and it was a moment of mirrored déjà vu, watching as she tromped off in the direction of the Riverperson; Undyne giving Edge her back was a deliberate show of her trust, as opposed to Swap Alphys’s insult.

“you believe her?”

This time his brother’s voice coming from nowhere was not a surprise. “I do, which means you may need to check over the audio distorters.” He finally turned to look up at his brother, who was lounging on the snowy rooftop, his sneakers braced against the gutters and a slender sharpened bone dangling idly between his fingers. Trust him to always be able to find the high ground. He glared at Red sourly. “Care to explain what you did to Alphys?”

Red only shrugged, tossing the bone to dissolve in the air and sending a miniature avalanche of snow to the ground. “heard about your tea party with her. been a while since i saw alphy, thought it might be time we had a chat, reminisce about old times and all.”

“And where did you hear about it?”

His grin widened mockingly, “always tell you, little brother, around here, the walls ain’t the only thing with ears.”

“Nor are they the only things without them, unless you’ve grown a pair. Can you at least assure me that it was worth antagonizing our allies?”

“doubt it. but she ain’t gonna hurt your kid.”

“Did she tell you that?” Edge asked. Red’s confidence was about as trustworthy as his rare promises, honest only to a point. “And do you believe her?”

Red’s grin was a sharpened knife, his eye lights glittering with blood-red sparks. “i do now. better get goin’ on patrol, little brother, those fancy traps of yours won’t check themselves.”

“You—” Red was gone before Edge could remind him that he needed to get to his own damned sentry station.

He blew out an impatient breath and stalked up the barely cleared path from their basement to the walkways of Snowdin proper. None of the citizens greeted him, instead scurrying out of his path and that was as it should be. His duty to the people here was to protect him from the XP Hunters and the LV-maddened Monsters that haunted the depths of the woods. He was not here for friendship or any companions past those he commanded. He was the Great and Terrible Papyrus and they would do well to remember it.

He did not spare a thought towards Rus, hopefully still sleeping in the cozy warmth of the bed they’d been sharing, their child still cradled safely in his belly.

His patrol went as perfect as was possible, considering the events of the morning. All the traps were clear, the Dogs were at their stations. Red’s post was empty but there were fresh footprints in the snow so he’d at least gone there earlier and then vacated before Edge could gripe at him for sleeping on the job. There were only a couple traps left on the very outskirts and he was headed to them when his phone began to ring, a distinct ringtone meant for emergencies only.

Edge took the moment to check his surroundings, scanning the woods. As anxious as he was to know why Rus was calling, he couldn’t afford to allow himself to get sloppy, especially not when he was alone. Only then did he press the answer call button, lifting the phone to his auditory canal, “Rus? Are you all right?”

The voice on the line was staticky this far away from Snowdin proper, “do you have any pillows?”

Edge nearly asked Rus to repeat it, half convinced that he couldn’t have possibly heard that right. “Pillows?” he echoed doubtfully, fully expecting to be corrected.

“yes!” Rus snapped back testily and that in itself was strange. Even at his most aggravated, Rus kept a firm hold on his temper, offering insults with lazily brutal precision instead of shouts. Anger was effort and he’d always kept his expenditures low. Until now. “pillows! do you have them or not!”

“I…yes?”

“good.” The relief fairly dripped from Rus’s voice. “i need them.”

“You need…pillows?” Edge repeated.

“did i stutter?” Through the static on the line, he heard Rus suddenly heave in a clotted breath, so wretched and teary that Edge’s soul clenched in sympathy. “i need pillows!”

“Shh, calm down,” Edge soothed. All right, so it wasn’t a traditional emergency, but Rus’s distress was real enough. He gave his surrounds another glance and turned back to town, his long strides eating up the distance. “Pillows, I hear you, I understand, you need pillows. Yes, we have some, several.”

“can you bring them with you tonight?” Again, that unhappy, hitched breath. “please. i need them.”

“Of course,” Edge said, trying for reassuring even through his confusion. “They’re yours, any we have.”

Rus let out a shuddery breath, whispering gratefully, “thank you.”

This was passing strange on an already strange day. “Rus? Are you all right?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” Now that he had secured a promise of pillows, he sounded distracted. “i gotta go. stay safe, okay?”

“I wi—” The line went dead before he could finish. Under his breath he muttered again. “Pillows?”

There was really only one way he was going to get an explanation. Edge headed back towards Snowdin, making mental plans. He could send the Dogi to check the last traps; if he phrased it as a show of trust rather than asking a favor, they would do it eagerly, always prepared to demonstrate their loyalty.

The pillows themselves might prove to be another problem. Despite his assurances, he only had a single pillow on his own bed and he wasn’t about to subject Rus to any of Red’s without a chance to sterilize them. They did have a couple of throw pillows, but that meager offering didn’t seem like enough for Rus’s level of upset and Edge could only picture his expression if he brought a mere three pillows as a contribution. No, he’d need to secure extras from somewhere else and there was only one place Edge could reasonably consider.

He could only hope to survive unscathed.

~~*~~

“heya, edgelord,” Sans yawned out. He looked up at Edge from where he was leaning against the doorjamb with as much interest as he could muster. From the vague sleepiness lingering over him like a miasma, it wasn’t much.

“Hello,” Edge said curtly. “I’m sorry, I don’t have time for niceties. Do you have any extra pillows I can borrow?”

Truthfully, he had no idea how much time there was, though the chances of Rus dying for a lack of pillows did seem unlikely. What he did know was that speaking with Sans was always simultaneously better and worse than talking to his brother, each tipping to the furthest end of their scale. There might be very little that could work Sans up enough to put the effort into making someone bleed, but his stare was like Red’s, direct and unflinching, always seeing far too much.

There was nothing in him that Edge wouldn’t allow Red to see, no secrets to keep hidden from him. Sans might resemble his brother, but he wasn’t and Edge was always deeply uncomfortable beneath the endless depths of his gaze.

That gaze was settled on him firmly now, sleepiness vanishing as Sans’s brow bones climbed up his forehead. Wonderful, now he was intrigued. “pillows?” he echoed.

Suddenly, Rus’s earlier frustrations made much more sense. “Yes, pillows! Soft square things that people lay their heads on. Pillows!”

“yeah, yeah, i get you, don’t get your panties twisted, it’ll ruin the leather.” Sans left the door open and wandered back into the house, leaving it for Edge to close behind him. He was wearing one slipper and trying to slide his foot into the other, socks sagging down his ankles. “lookin’ to cosplay as the stay-puff marshmallow man?”

“They aren’t for me, they’re for Rus.”

That got him a shrewd glance, Sans’s teeth parted in a silent ‘ah’. “gotcha. welp, anything for the upcoming mama.”

“I don’t know why you and Red insist on calling him that,” Edge said irritably, “he doesn’t like it.”

Sans frowned slightly, as much as he could around the constraints of his skull. “no? sorry ‘bout that, he never said. i’ll stop, but i’d guess for your bro that’s the main reason he does it.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“how’s things goin’ with rus, anyway, haven’t seen him lately.”

Hardly a surprise. Rus wasn’t supposed to use the machine any more than he should be teleporting, and Sans never seemed particularly fond of it himself. He’d always been perfectly content to allow visitors to come to him and whether that was simple laziness or something else entirely, Edge did not know.

“well?” Sans prompted. “you two doing all right?” His eye lights were pale white, nothing at all like Red’s crimson and yet, somehow, they sent a tremor down Edge’s spine.

Enough of this. Perhaps Rus’s need for pillows wasn’t a fatal issue, but that didn’t mean Edge wanted to hold off getting them to him. “If you’re warming up for a lecture of some sort, I’ve already spoken to a version of Alphys, my Undyne, and my own brother today. I’m full up, so I’d appreciate it if you could save it for a day when my self-esteem is particularly high and might need taken down a peg or two.”

Sans only looked at him in mild surprise. “no lectures. not really seeing a need for it, seems to me you’re doing okay by rus. ‘course, i’m not privy to all the details, but i don’t really need ‘em. none of my business, unless you’re planning on knocking up my bro, too.” The way his eye lights flickered out was nothing close to mild, and the darkness in his sockets only resembled blackness. “don’t recommend that, by the way.”

As if the same trick his brother often pulled was anything close to a threat. “I’ll keep it in mind if I get any sudden urges to impregnate anyone else,” Edge said dryly.

“’preciate it. pillows,” Sans said decisively. Between one step and the next he disappeared and then returned only moments later, announcing. “help yourself.”

The mass of fluffiness was worth a brief stare, if only for the shock that the Tale brothers seemed to have an unexpected collection of pillows stowed away somewhere in their home. Edge took Sans at his word, piling in as many into his inventory as would fit. Sans’s easy expression never changed, even as Edge tried to force in yet another. “Won’t your brother mind?”

“paps?” Sans only gave him a one-shouldered shrug. “nah, not if i tell him they’re for rus. he’s pretty excited to meet the kiddo.”

“So am I,” Edge murmured. “Thank you.”

“sure. do us a favor and give ‘em a wash before you bring ‘em back? it’s gonna get a little messy when the baby finally decides to make an appearance, yeah?”

There was something peculiar in Sans’s voice, something that didn’t match his normal lazy ease. It gave Edge a pause and he hesitated, giving Sans a scrutinizing look. Without his hoodie, Sans looked smaller and that too was reminiscent of Red. Even Edge usually only saw his brother without a hoodie when he was too unconscious to prevent it. Sans met that gaze evenly, his smile never faltering. But then, it really couldn’t, could it.

“I’ll wash them myself,” Edge told him slowly.

Sans snorted and shook his head. “you know what, don’t make it a priority, you’re gonna be busier than one-armed shit-shoveler pretty damn soon. guess you better head out, if rus’s asking for pillows, he’s getting close.”

“What do you--?”

It was fascinating really, to be steadily herded towards the door by someone who never bothered to take his hands out of his pockets. Edge was standing on the porch with a pillow in his arms before he even noticed he was through the front door and Sans was on the other side of the threshold, offering him an easy little wave. “see you around, edgelord.”

“Thank you agai—” The door closed with a firm click. Edge sighed and said to no one at all, “It would be nice if someone let me finish a single sentence today.”

But as strange as Sans’s pronouncement was, Edge took him at his word. Rus needed pillows for something and if that something was the birth of their child, then time might be at a more of constraint than he suspected.

Edge headed back to the Tale brothers’ basement at a jog, pillow in hand and Rus was the only thing on his mind.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #pregnancy fic

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razzle-zazzle · 4 years ago

Text

A prologue

1643 Words; TW for implied death

All things must eventually come to an end.

It was a fact of life in Faryndel. Seasons would change from crispy summers to cool autumns, from frigid winters to foggy springs. Villagers, old and young, from sickness, injury, or age, would meet their end, leaving the world to their descendents. Years would pass, things would change, and someday, the little farming village in Horn Valley would fall into ruin, forgotten with time. Nothing, not even the great kingdom of Aurumva, would last forever.

And it is with one of these endings that our story begins.

+=+=+=+=+

Winter in Horn Valley was a frigid, three-foot-deep-snow affair, a time when all outside seemed to stand still but for the flurrying flakes carried by whistling winds. It was a time when the residents of the little valley town would keep to their homes, venturing away from the warmth of their fires only for the sake of hunting. It was a time when the Moon ruled the land, and the earth slept beneath its blanket of snow and ice.

Of course, the valley would not be frozen forever.

The seasons were due to change soon, and it seemed the Moon was determined to put on one last show before the ice gave way to the foggy downpours of spring. This grand finale of blizzards carried with it the ultimate chill of the season, a cold that permeated down to the bone, creeping like shadows into even the warmest homes. The wind, too, was relentless, howling its siren song as it clawed at everything within reach. And it was this wind that carried the cold, slamming it against the walls of buildings.

Paige rubbed her hands together for the umpteenth time, but the chill in the room was persistent. Not even shoving her desk next to the wood stove was enough; her fingers were red at the tips, and her freckled nose was starting to resemble her hair in color, as ripe and red as a cherry.

On the desk before her, illuminated in candlelight as pale as clay, was the parchment she was writing on. An open book on the history of Faryndel was next to it.

“Why am I even bothering?” Paige grumbled, pulling her coat tighter around herself. “I hate this backwater village.”

Yet here she was, in the library’s private study, trying to gain a grasp of the subjects laid out before her.

Paige picked up the quill again.

Winter would not last for much longer. And with the Moon’s leave comes the start of spring, and with that came the part of Paige’s stay here that she was dreading the most.

Teaching.

It was not her strong suit.

Children were annoying, terrible things. A plague upon all of Aurumva, really. Grimey gremlins with little care for such lofty subjects as literature. Honestly, there were far better ways for Paige to apply her intellect than dealing with snot-nosed brats.

And yet, Paige was going to have to work with one of them.

Paige grimaced, setting the quill down to shift her chair closer to the fire. “But of course this middle-of-nowhere valley village has no scribes of its own. It’s a wonder these philistine farmers even had a library to begin with.”

Fuck, it was cold. Even the candles looked like they could use a warm sweater. The fire had burned through the majority of its fuel, its glow flirting with the shadows in the room like the ocean waves with the shore.

Standing up, Paige grumbled as she opened the woodstove. The fire wooshed softly as heat billowed out, as though warm arms were embracing Paige. She reveled in it.

Paige reached into the coal box next to it, grabbing logs and adding them to the fire. Hopefully, this would be enough to last the rest of the night. If it wasn’t…

Paige shivered.

Before closing the stove, she held her hands out in front of it. She just wanted to go to bed for the night, but no, she had to spend the coldest night of the year learning about this plebeian farming village in the middle of nowhere.

But Paige had a job to do. Begrudgingly, resentfully, she closed the door and returned to her work.

The fire crackled. Ink was put to paper. Outside, the wind bellowed, singing like cicadas as it scratched at the doors and whispered into the night. It did not care about the happenings of the little valley town, nor did it feel any sort of sympathy for the scribe sitting in her study, shivering; it was not in the wind’s nature to care. The wind would continue to blow; the world would continue to turn.

Were it not for the slow and steady melting of the candles, the study would have seemed frozen in time. A capsule, separated from the ever-moving world outside it.

But unfortunately, time never stops. And as the hours continued their never ending march to nowhere, Paige could feel her throat starting to burn. Her eyelids were getting heavier by the second. Her penmanship was becoming sloppier with every letter.

So she kept herself awake the best way she knew: complaining.

“Eoddamn good-for-nothing guildmaster sending me to this nothing town—”

Thunk.

Paige paused. She set the quill down.

It sounded like someone was in the library. But what kind of imbecile would be out in this storm?

Something clattered.

Paige huffed. “Oh, of course.” Some idiot must have entered the library to take shelter from the storm. She stood up, closing the inkwell and marking her place in the book before her with a strip of parchment. Paige grabbed one of the candlesticks, holding it in her left hand. She might as well make sure the trespasser wasn’t burning books to keep themselves warm.

As Paige opened the door to step out into the hall, she shivered. The library was normally a cozy place, much more inviting than the spartan study. But “normally” didn’t apply to whiteout blizzards late at night.

Paige cast one last longing glance at the wood stove. She could already feel its warm glow beckoning her to return to it.

Something else thumped against the floor, louder this time. Paige sighed in resignation, grabbing a stick in her other hand in case she needed to defend herself. At the very least, she had an excuse to stop working for the moment.

The hall really wasn’t much of a hall; it was more of a small closet, separating the library’s public and private areas. There were only three doors, and, like the study, no windows.

Paige headed towards the third door, stepping through to the area behind the librarian’s desk.

Unlike the study, which had been alight with the warm glow of the fire, the library was swathed in shadows—but for the small halo of light coming from Paige’s candle. It flickered, casting the bookshelves and the librarian’s desk in a dim glow.

Now the sounds were unmistakably that of rustling clothes and claws clicking against wood.

Paige started making her way around the shelves.

A pale green glow was emanating from the back corner of the room. Witchfire, Paige thought, though she wasn’t an expert.

In that back corner, hunched over in front of a bookshelf, was a cloaked figure. The hood was down, revealing two lupine ears.

A lycan, then.

Paige sneered. Barbarian brute. Seeking shelter from the storm, then.

“If you’re looking for books to burn, stop right now.”

The lycan paused their searching, turning to look at Paige. The green light was coming from an amulet they were holding; it cast their face in a soft glow.

There was a pregnant pause.

The lycan returned to their searching, holding the amulet up to each book as though it would reveal something.

Paige’s lips curled into a frown. “Um, hello?” She stepped forwards. “Did you even hear me?”

The lycan paused. They stood up, and—oh, wow, they were taller than Paige expected. As if seeing Paige for the first time, they spoke. “You’re the librarian here?”

“Well,” Paige huffed, “I’m actually a scribe, but yes, I am the acting librarian for this town.”

“Good enough.” The lycan said, gray eyes sizing Paige up.

Paige shuddered. Forget the weather—middle of nowhere villages like this were riddled with Anima filth. “And what do you want?”

“Is it not obvious?” If Paige had believed the lycan capable of it, she might have heard a sarcastic lilt to their voice. “I’m in a library, obviously I’m looking for a book.”

“You’re looking… for a book.” Paige’s voice was rife with disbelief.

The lycan smiled, face split in a wolfish grin. “Yes, I’m looking for a book.”

Paige sighed. “Alright,” She gestured with her stick, “The children’s section is over there—”

“Oh no, you misunderstand.” The lycan pushed past her, following the amulet’s glow towards the desk. “I’m looking for a certain book.”

Paige frowned. “Well, you can’t go back there.” She pointed out, entirely reasonably.

“Too bad.” The lycan said dismissively, already behind the desk. “I’m not leaving without that book.”

Paige sputtered. “What—no!” She moved in front of the lycan, brandishing her stick. “I’m not allowing a barbarian like you in here.”

All at once, the lycan's affable demeanor disappeared. “Get out of my way.” They threatened, baring their teeth.

Paige trembled, but held her ground.

“I said,” The lycan growled, “Get out of my way.”

Outside, uncaring of the events of mortals, the wind continued to sing.

+=+=+=+=+

All things must eventually come to an end.

It was a fact of life in Faryndel. And when the villagers awoke the next morning, and the alchemist’s apprentice found the results of the previous night’s scuffle, they did not view it as some great tragedy. They had things to do, preparations to make.

They would move on, as all things do.

#zaz writes #that book i'll never write #paige the scribe #darli lar'holme #yeah so we had a short story assignment in creative writing #decided to hash out the prologue to that book i'll never write #tw death #paige is a snob who absolutely wouldn't have the presence of mind to view darli as more than just her species so #the narration reflects that

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aerynwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Right Where we Belong

Markus x Reader

Requested?: yes! By @jaylahz (I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY IT PLEASE DONT HATE ME)

Warnings: cursing, fluff?, I think that’s it.

Authors note: well as you can tell I’m back, for now at least haha. I had the sudden urge to write so I’m going to fill this request and then my last other one and then I have some other ideas in my head for other works. Hopefully you all enjoy this, and I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors. I wrote this on my phone while I’m on vacation so...sorry lol.

——————-

Ever since androids had been gaining independence you had been secretly helping them in any way you could. But mostly you infiltrated cyber life warehouses and stole spare parts and blue blood.

You has never met any of the androids, you liked to keep your deeds out of the spot light. So, you chose to simply leave the bags of supplies on the main deck of Jericho each week. You felt like a vigilante of some sorts.

You smiled to yourself, you were finally making a difference in the world, even if it wasn’t good difference in the laws eyes. Your smile fell however as you heard a loud clang come from behind you. You were currently raiding another warehouse, so you quickly slid the container closed and ducked behind it as you heard soft voices speaking.

A worried male voice spoke up, “are you sure we can pull this off?” It asked.

“Yes,” a more confident and oddly familiar voice answered, “I’m sure we can do this. We have too. There are too many of us injured in Jericho to not come back with these supplies. The mystery delivers aren’t enough to keep us going anymore.”

Your eyes widened in shock, ‘They’re from Jericho?’ You wondered silently.

You shifted your weight anxiously as you heard them come closer, what should you do? Risk revealing yourself and possibly put yourself in danger or continue hiding and risk discovery. You were busy contemplating your discount you didn’t realize one of the androids had come around the side of the container.

You locked eyes for a moment, taking in the mans appearence. He was a standard house keeping android, the model with blonde hair and blue eyes. You had seen his model in your mother’s house a few months ago.

You slowly put your hands up as a sign of peace and open your mouth so peak but the android beat you to it.

“Markus!” He shouted in a whisper, “Markus, it’s a Human they know we’re here! Come quick!” He looked quickly to the direction he can from shouting for his friend.

“Shit” you cursed, as you quickly pulled up your hood and tightened your backpack straps.

You quickly jumped up and pulled yourself skillfully on the the top of the container, just in time to see another android run onto the scene. You noticed instantly that you recognized him and your eyes widened as they met his. The same recognition didn’t shine in his eyes, probably from the hood you were wearing. You quickly pulled pulling your scarf over your face and turned to sprint the other way.

“Don’t let her get away!” Markus commanded.

You ran nimbly from container to container, skillfully leaping over obstacles before finally jumping to the ground below you, rolling to soften the blow. You quickly stood once more and took off again, knowing the route to go to avoid guards, but your heart lept into your throat as you heard a set of footsteps quickly gaining on you. You huffed in frustration but pushed yourself harder as you ran towards the exit of the building and shoved the door open.

You heard a soft grunt as the door presumably hit your pursuer, hopefully slowing them down. You continued to run in the direction of Jericho, slipping through ally ways sliding over cars and leaping barriers. Your shadow not far behind you until you saw a way to possibly lose him.

It was risky, but he couldn’t find out that you were the secret provider. You momentarily thought back to the day you finally bumped into him in the park. A few weeks after he had been taken by the police for what happened at your grandfather Carl’s house.

———-

“Markus! Oh my god I found you!” You exclaimed, bringing the android you loved into a right embrace.

Markus shook his head as he pushed you off of him hesitantly, “you need to leave (Y/N), it’s not safe here with me.”

You looked at him quizzically, “what do you mean? Is there something wrong?”

He quickly shook his head and lowered his voice, “there’s a revolution happening. A big one,” he stated seriously, “ and you don’t need to get involved. It’s dangerous. You can’t be fixed like I can. I won’t put you in harms way because of what I believe in.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Before you could respond he swiftly knocked your feet from under you, leaving you breathless on the ground. He muttered an apology and a promise to return before he disappeared into the streets.

——-

You shook your head, as if trying to shake the memory from your mind. Soon after your encounter you had found the location of Jericho and decided to help anyways. Even if Markus didn’t want you too.

You focused your attention back on your escape route as you saw in come into view. You knew Markus had gained on you considerably so this had to work. You ran down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians before making and sudden left turn into an alleyway. You heard Markus stumble over his feet at the sudden route change, and knew it would buy you a few more seconds. You leapt up into a nearby dumpster before jumping and latching onto the ladder of a fire escape. You hastily climbed the ladder to the grated platform above. You crouched and started unlatching the ladder from the platform, but before you could get the second latch undone a large hand grasped your wrist. You looked up and your eyes met his. He paused momentarily as recognition flashed through his eyes.

His moment of hesitation gave you he window you needed.

“Sorry for this.” You mumbled as you pulled the lathed open.

A surprised sound left Markus mouth as the ladder released from the platform and he plummeted to the ground below. You looked down as he slowly got to his feet, before turning around and continuing your route to Jericho.

———

You struggled to catch your breath as you finally reached the bridge of the Jericho ship. You never had to run that hard for that long before, it was usually just a simple walk or taxi ride to the ship. So you were worn out. You dropped the large backpack to the ground and dug around in your pockets for your note pad and pencil. You still had a delivery to finish and then you were going home and take a much needed nap. You were about to start writting the note when a familiar hand once again grabbed your wrist.

You didn’t fight this time however. You just sighed in defeat as Markus turned you to face him. Your eyes met his as he slowly pulled you hood down and tugged the scar from your face. A look of disappointment crossed his face as he sighed releasing your arm.

You spoke up, “in my defense, I didn’t technically get involved.” You tried to defend.

Markus shook his head but a small smile made its way into his face anyway.

“I should’ve known you weren’t going to listen to me. You never did,” He chuckled.

A smile broke out onto your face and tears gathered in your eyes. You pulled him into a hug, relishing in everything that was Markus. Everything you had missed over the last month.

“I missed you so much,” you confessed.

He pulled you tighter to him as he kissed the top of your head, “I missed you more.”

You giggled quietly as you pulled away from him, wiping the tears that fell from our eyes. You looked at him momentarily before punching him in his shoulder.

He feigned hurt, “Ow!” He laughed, “what Was that for?”

You rolled your eyes, “That, was for leaving me behind and thinking I couldn’t handle myself enough to help you, you jerk!”

His eyes widened in shock, “well, if I had know you could do what you did back there,” he gestured vaguely behind him, “then I wouldn’t have told you to stay away!” He Jokes.

You laugh loudly as you loop your arm through his as he guides you into the ship for the first time.

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asks.

You tap your finger on your chin pretending to think, “I don’t recall,” you say looking up at him playfully, “and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you. A girls gotta have some secrets you know.”

Markus rolls his eyes as he pulled you closer to his side. Finally happy to have you back where you belong.

Right by his side.

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #dbh x reader #dbh markus #dbh connor x reader #dbh markus x reader

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randomfandomfamily · 5 years ago

Note

How about a oneshot of Gary celebrating an earth holiday with Lil Cato? Like, Halloween or something.

---

oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this has so much potential and I don’t know if I’ll do it justice, but I’ma try!

*spends three hours trying to figure out which holiday i should write because i want to write them all*

(agh this turned into a Dadspeed with all the kids, not just Little Cato, i hope that’s okay, i just couldn’t resist)

Gary had spent a really long time alone. Five years of no one but him and a bunch of robots. Celebrations were few and far between, and they hadn’t gotten any more frequent in the last few months either.

“HUE,” Gary spun around to face his AI friend, “When’s the next holiday? In Earth time?”

The stout robot hummed. “Well, if the Earth was still in its proper rotation, it would be June 18th, meaning the closest holiday would be Fathers’ Day.”

“Oh.” Gary laughed uncomfortably. “Well, that’s... wow. Okay, maybe we don’t make that my first celebration in five years.” He got up from his chair. “I’m gonna go find Mooncake and wait for the 4th of July or something.”

He passed Little Cato on his way out, who had been trying to listen in on their conversation from across the room. He barely heard anything over Ash and Fox’s idle chatter. So as soon as Gary was out of the room, he walked over to HUE and asked, “What was Gary asking you about?”

“He asked me about the closest Earth holiday,” HUE answered. “But he didn’t seem interested in the upcoming Fathers’ Day.”

Little Cato frowned. “Fathers’ Day?” He turned and called to the other kids. “Hey Fox, Ash! You guys know what a Fathers’ Day is?”

Fox and Ash glanced at each other. “Sounds like a holiday celebrating... fathers,” Ash said.

“Seems kinda obvious,” Fox added as they joined Little Cato by HUE. “Why do you ask?”

“Gary was asking HUE about holidays,” Little Cato explained. “Apparently there’s one on Earth called Father’s Day that’s coming up pretty soon.”

HUE pointed a finger at the ceiling. “In three days, in fact.”

“What are you three up too?”

Little Cato, Fox, and Ash jumped at the sound of Nightfall’s voice. “Nothing!” Fox yelped.

“We’re not doing anything,” Ash said quickly.

Rolling his eyes, Little Cato reminded them, “We’re not doing anything wrong, you guys. You don’t have to pretend you’re covering something up.” It was an old habit of theirs, most likely learned from Clarence. Hopefully they’d be a little less jumpy when faced with confrontation now that he was gone.

Nightfall raised an eyebrow. “So... you gonna enlighten me?”

“Nothing much to say,” Little Cato admitted. “We were just wondering what Gary might have against Fathers’ Day.”

The time-traveler blanched. “Fathers’ Day? Why are you...” She paused. “Oh, it is June, isn’t it?” She sighed. “Well, if he’s anything like my Gary, it’s just a painful reminder of his father.”

“Did he have... a bad relationship with his father?” Ash asked nervously.

Nightfall shook her head. “No. Quite the opposite really. Gary and his father were about as close as two people could be. The day Gary lost his father was probably the worst day of his life.”

Fox gasped. “Well, no wonder he doesn’t wanna celebrate Fathers’ Day!” He exclaimed, “No one wants to celebrate a dead dad!”

Ash elbowed him. “Fox.”

“What?”

Little Cato tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What if Gary didn’t celebrate Fathers’ Day.” Fox, Ash, and Nightfall turned to him curiously. He grinned back at them. “But what if we did?”

Nightfall gave him an approving look. “Looking to return that adoption surprise, huh?”

“Something like that,” Little Cato agreed. “But I think Gary just... he kinda needs a win, you know? And what better way than to celebrate a day literally all about dads?”

“But Gary hasn’t adopted us,” Ash pointed out. “Can we still... you know, celebrate?”

“Yeah...” Fox said, “It doesn’t seem right.”

Nightfall put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Let me tell you two something about Gary Goodspeed. He is an absolute moron of a human being.

“He isn’t the smartest guy, or the strongest for that matter. The only thing about Gary that sets him apart from every other asshole I’ve ever met is his ridiculously huge heart.

“I have never ever seen Gary turned down someone who asked for help. And the first thing Clarence did when we found him was beg to come back with us.” Nightfall hesitated. “And for a second... I thought Gary’s big heart would let him come back with us.

“But, to my surprise, Gary said no. And the second he said no is the second he chose your happiness and your well-being over his own morals.” Nightfall smiled warmly at Fox and Ash. “He would do anything for the two of you. Just like he’d do anything for anyone that he cares about.”

Fox and Ash stared at her, both of them on the verge of tears. After everything that just happened with Clarence, it probably felt good to know they still had a place aboard the Crimson Light.

Still, there was business to take care of. They could be sappy later. Little Cato clapped loudly to break the emotional tension in the room. “So! We all agree then? Fathers’ Day for Gary?”

Ash wiped tears from her eye. “Yeah. Fathers’ Day for Gary.”

“Fathers’ Day for Gary!” Fox shouted, unashamedly bawling his eyes out.

Little Cato grinned. “Alright then. HUE? How do we celebrate a Fathers’ Day?”

The next couple of days were kind of a blur. Still no leads on the Dimensional Keys, but the kids were running around, trying to be as covert as possible.

Gary noticed, of course. Fox especially was tip-toeing around him like he might explode. Ash scurried off a lot faster than usual whenever he tried to ask her something. And Little Cato, who usually sat with him in the control room, seemed to be disappearing a lot more often.

For two days, Gary ignored everyone’s strange behavior. But the last straw was Nightfall stopping him from going into the control room on the morning of the third day.

“And why can’t I go in there again?” Gary asked.

Nightfall shrugged. “Sorry Gary, I have very strict orders. You can’t go in the control room.”

“I am the captain!” Gary protested.

“Hmmmm... are you really though?”

Gary threw up his hands in frustration. “Would you just-” He grabbed Nightfall by the shoulders and set her aside. “Let me...” The door slid open before he had a chance to do it himself. “In?”

Little Cato, Fox, and Ash were on the other side, smiles splitting their faces as they shouted, “Surprise!”

“Is anyone gonna tell me what the crap...” He trailed off when he noticed what there had been an attempt at decorating the room. “What’s all this?”

Ash was floating near the ceiling, batting at a makeshift streamer. “Well, it turns out that none of us are very good at holidays.”

“So we decorated for a party!” Fox exclaimed. “Hope that’s okay. We weren’t sure what else to do.”

Little Cato gestured around the room. “Turns out the normal traditions for a Fathers’ Day are really hard to do in space.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But uh... we decorated!”

Gary blinked, completely blanking on what to say. “But... why would... how...”

“Nightfall told us that you and your dad were close,” Fox said. “And that was probably why you didn’t want to celebrate Fathers’ Day.”

“But!” Ash chimed in. “We can still celebrate you.” She tapped her fingers together nervously. “If that’s okay with you.”

Little Cato glanced up at Gary. “Uh... is this okay?”

Gary couldn’t form a thought, he almost couldn’t get any words out around the lump in his throat. He just barely managed to say, “You three better get over here and give me a hug.” before he was completely overwhelmed with emotion.

His Ventrexian son smiled and hugged him tightly around the waist. Fox and Ash, looking relieved, immediately dove into the embrace. “Happy Fathers’ Day, Gary,” Little Cato whispered.

Nightfall, from the doorway, watched all of this with a small smile of her own. Who would have thought Gary, in any timeline, would have turned out to be a father of three?

More than that, he was a great father of three.

#final space #dadspeed #little cato #fox #ash #gary goodspeed #random disaster writes

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maddieson-san · 5 years ago

Text

Secret Santa Kogkag

@megara09 I am so sorry this is late! I have been dying, in quarantine in my bed over the worst cold I’ve ever had and my son’s gastro (which are all fun things to have pregnant). ANYWHO. I am so sorry. I have tried to combine pack hanging out with them meeting in the present. I struggle with not turning into a long fic with multi chapters. So, I tried to do a nice open but wrapped up ending? AAAAH! I hope you like it T.T

Lost, really?

Then again, did she ever excel at finding her way in the forest before? Even back then, the only reason she didn’t get lost was because she had her friends with her. Therefor, it was no surprise that a little wood gathering mission had turned into this. She had told herself to not stray too far from the camp but apparently she had managed to take a few wrong turns. Ayumi, Eri and Yuka would hopefully start looking for her soon and they would not get lost like she had… Clearly they would not suggest camping again for their next annual trip. It was something they had started since high school ended and Kagome’s health ‘got better’. Once the well permanently closed, leaving her stuck in her own era, she had been forced to resume her old life, finding back her old routine. It took some time, melancholy taking hold of her from time to time but as the years went by, she learned to cherish the memories of the past while moving on with her new life.

Although, being stuck in the woods? It was bringing back some memories.

“Ayumi?” she tried.

Perhaps it was all her years in the feudal era, but part of her was scared of screaming too loud… what if it attracted undesired attention? No, she was being silly; there were no youkais here. Worst case… wolves? No, the girls wouldn’t rent a lot in a wolf infested area right? This was the modern era, and although this time had its own demons and whatnot, youkais popping out of nowhere was not one of them.

And then there was a growl.

Kagome felt her blood freeze as her breathing stilled. It was behind her - how far, she couldn’t tell… What was it she was supposed to do? Run? Not move? Play dead? One of those was in case of a bear attack, she was almost sure of it. Fuck. Okay - okay. It was okay because - because she could do this. She closed her eyes, foolishly attempting to give herself some courage. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs to the maximum capacity, and then exhaled loudly. Her teeth were clattering together as she turned around, slowly facing the beast that stood behind her. His long black fur was morphing into the darkness of the night, leaving nothing but his blue eyes shining into the night like two tiny stars. It was far enough from her, but not far enough for her to escape with enough distance. Now that she had made the first move, she expected it to launch itself at her but… But it wasn’t attacking her; it was just staring at her. Her arms were stretched out in front of her, not that it would protect her much, and she stared into the wolves' blue eyes. It was piercing through her soul, forcing her to forget how to breathe. The last wolves she had met used to eat humans. But that was probably because they were youkais, right? He didn’t want to shred her to pieces… Hopefully.

“Any chance you wanna kidnap me and use me as a shard detector?” She joked, her bottom lip trembling.

As soon as the words left her lips, she saw the wolf stiffen, his eyes hardening, while his massive body stilled completely. Not a fan of bad jokes, noted. Damn it. Her heart was racing, her lips were dry as her brain scrambled for the next course of action. How would she prove she was no threat? It wasn’t like she could zap it and run��no one was going to come with a sword and save her from this. Maybe she did miss the good old days. She lifted her heel from the ground, undecided if she should slowly back way or make a run for it, when the wolf made a call. He stepped forward, determined. Kagome swallowed hard, the sound of her heart deafening her.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she managed to stutter. Yes, Kagome… because wolves speak human. He probably would think she was threatening him some more.

Her fear forced her to take a step back, her heart rising into her throat while her stomach squeezed tightly. Unfortunately for her, her assessing of her surrounding was poor at best; it only required a few back steps before her back slammed into a tree trunk. She was trapped between a tree and a wolf. What if she threw herself side ways? Lunged herself forward? Maybe such a drastic action would throw it off and it would give her the distraction she needed to run away. Although, was she willing to take such a big risk? Realistically, she knew she could not outrun a wolf; she didn’t even know where she was going, where her camp was. And then what? She would have led it to her friends. No, it was a bad idea. She could feel her powers rising in her fingertips, and she wondered if maybe just maybe it might do a little something.

Meanwhile the wolf kept closing the distance, the black fur of his large paws being swallowed by the muddy ground beneath them. He was going to get her and he was going to rip her to pieces until she was dismembered, nothing more than pile in a lost corner of the forest. She pushed her hands further in front of her, her eyes begging for her to close them to shield her own brain from the nightmare to come. Did she really want a preview of the teeth that were going to sink into her flesh? As she felt it close, its warm breath warming the air still separating them, she gave into her cowardliness and shut her eyes, waiting for the pain that was inevitably coming.

“K-Kagome?”

Wait what.

Her bottom lip was trembling by the time she dared to crack one of her eyes open. The image in front of her was initially blur, probably due to the tears that had pooled in her eyes. It -it was man? Her eyes scanned over a long dark ponytail, spilling over a naked, tan chest. Piercing blue eyes were staring at her in disbelief, a cocky smile dancing on lips that felt very familiar. The way he said her name kept echoing in her head until she tipped slightly forward. It was but it couldn’t possibly be.

“Kouga?”

“It is you,” he almost screamed before launching himself forward.

Before she could blink, his arms were tightly wrapped around her, trapping her in an embrace tight enough to knock the air out of her lungs. It took her a moment, but eventually she returned the gesture and squeezed him back. “B-but how?”

“I should be the one asking ya that.” She could hear his smile when he talked.

It wasn’t until her hands palmed at his naked flesh while she tightened the embrace that she realized…his back wasn’t the only naked part of him. If she continued glancing down over his shoulder, she could clearly see…oh god. “Naked. You’re naked.”

A eek slipped her lips before she put her palms to his pecs before violently pushing him away from her, closing her eyes to shield them from any more nakedness. Unfortunately for her, his stance was a lot more solid than hers and he remained where he stood like an immovable object while she was the down who went flying backwards once more. Ouch.

“Sorry, I got so excited I forgot,” he said with a smile.

Kagome. His Kagome. In the flesh. He had caught a drift of a scent that flooded his mind with memories of her. He had told himself it was absolutely impossible, but he had followed the trail nonetheless. And then he had seen her. He had told himself it was a coincidence, a descendant maybe… but then she spoke and he knew. He could hardly believe it but he knew. And she had confirmed it. There were a million questions burning his lips but as he watched her, her cheeks dusty pink from embarrassment and her hand plastered over her eyes to hide his nakedness, he knew it would have to wait. “How about this, give me ‘bout 20 seconds?”

Next thing she knew, she could feel her hair being pushed backwards as a gust of wind overtook the area; she didn’t need to see to know what had just happened. She could not help the hint of a smile that tugged at her lips. It almost felt like old times.

-O-

It took more than 20 seconds, but Kouga eventually returned. He took her hand, much like he had done in the past, and had led her back to his little camping side where she had found out Ginta and Hakkaku had been waiting for them. They did not even try to hide their excitement as they threw their arms around her, dancing and screaming sis in her ear as though she had never left their sides. Obviously, once the joy wore off, they had a lot of questions. And she did her best to answer all of them, starting with pulling down the wall the very first time all the way to her last trip. And they listened with wide eyes and open ears.

“Wow. Time travel.”

“Yep.”

“For a second there, I thought I was going crazy,” Kouga admitted as he scratched the back of his head. “I mean it smelled like you - it had to be you… but it couldn’t be.” Despite the fact that he had given her up, it didn’t mean he didn’t care about her. He had come around looking for her, but Inuyasha had always been vague with his answers. Kouga had even tried to beat it out of him, but it hadn’t worked; the hanyou had stuck to his answer. Kagome was gone… forever. At least now he knew that didn’t mean she was dead. He had never quite forgiven himself all those years. What if she was dead and it was because he had left her in Inuyasha’s care? The fact that she was alive lifted a load off of his chest. His Kagome was alive.

“You? I thought I was gonna die eaten by a wolf.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ve kept my words. No more humans… although… lost girls in the woods… I might make an exception,” he said with a wink.

“Funny… for an old man. You must be… really old by now. How is it that you guys even survived this long?”

Kouga palmed at the back of his neck, rubbing the cold skin. “Youkais live pretty long - but most of ‘em die. The change hasn’t been easy. Some couldn’t live like this, others died trying to prevent it… we adapted.”

“Kouga didn’t wanna break his word to you. He didn’t wanna go back to human killing and eating.”

She frowned. “No one could have blamed you for defending yourself.” It wasn’t like she prone violence and killings but, she couldn’t even imagine what all of them had to go through to make it to the modern era. Kouga was a proud man, she knew that much and she highly doubted that was something that had changed, despite the centuries that went by. He had to bury a part of himself to make it into the new world. Although, she was happy to know he had stuck to his peacefulness.

He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have done anything.”

Ginta was about to add that Kouga had lost a bit of his pep when he thought Kagome was dead but one stern look from his alpha was enough for him to know it was best to keep his mouth shut. It was hard to ignore the fire that had sparked back in Kouga’s aura. Ginta and Hakkaku could hardly put together what had happened when Kouga had come back naked in human form. He had been smiling and couldn’t string two words together. When they saw Kagome in the flesh, they understood. They didn’t know how it was possible but - they couldn’t be happier.

“I’m sorry it’s been so hard… I - if I had known I woulda come find you guys.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

He shrugged. “I know I had a tendency to annoy you a little back then. I was a pretty stubborn cub.”

She was hopeless to stop the laughter that bubbled out of her. “That’s one way to put it.” She hide her mouth with her hand as her laughter kept erupting. “But, we were friends… we are friends. I’m happy to know you’re all okay. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you guys. Any of you.”

There it was. He knew it. He knew it the second they met up. She wanted to know about everyone else - she wanted to know about Inuyasha. He couldn’t blame her; she loved him and this was quite recent for her. She hadn’t had enough time to get over it. And honestly, he wanted her to know; she deserved to know after everything she had been through in the past. He thought it had been hard to have her gone with no answers. He couldn’t even imagine how she felt after being ripped away from everyone, unable to reach them again. Plus, for him - it all happened a long time ago, right? It was old news.

“I don’t know what happened to the fox. The monk and the slayer are long gone, long before any of this youkai and human shit went down. I think Inuyasha’s brother…is somewhere out there and - well, I mean,” he popped his lips. “Inuyasha was an hanyou so…” he swallowed hard. Fuck, he didn’t want to say it out loud.

His train of thoughts was interrupted when he felt her warm hand on his arm. She tilted her head sideways, her long locks leaning to the side. “He’s gone,” she finished for him. She managed to smile despite the small ping of pain traveling through her heart. It wasn’t like she expected him to be alive. If Inuyasha was still around, he would have found her, he would have come running the day she got stuck in the modern era. But he didn’t, and that told her all she needed to know. It was many years ago that she stopped watching her window, half expecting him to be waiting for her, his grumpy face on. She wasn’t heartbroken, she was a little sad. Of course. But - she had accepted the loss of her friends a long time ago. “Kouga, I didn’t think he was alive.”

“I know…”

“Was he happy?”

“He seemed happy, but ya know that mutt. Too stubborn to say anything.”

She chuckled. “That sounds like Inuyasha.”

He never left the village; he always hung around that well. Kouga didn’t used to understand but now he did; he had been waiting for Kagome to come back. Obviously, he wasn’t going to share that tidbit with her. He didn’t care how many years went by, Kagome was still the same Kagome and he was sure of it. She would blame herself and she would carry that guilt around with her when it was unnecessary. He wanted to spare her the pain. So, he would leave it at that; after all, he wasn’t lying.

“Good. I’m glad he was happy. And I’m glad you guys are safe.” She dragged out a long breath before staring back into the darkness, her hand lingering on his arm.

He felt a warmth spreading through his arm, reaching all the way to his chest. Time to change the topic. “I have to say though…”

“What?”

“I mean that outfit? A school girl outfit?”

“It was practical!”

“How was running around the feudal era in a skirt practical?”

“I had to go back and forth all the time! What was I supposed to do? Show up at school in a miko outfit? Be Kikyo’s clone?

He shook his head. “That wouldn’t have been you.” He didn’t think he would have spotted her if she had blended in. Granted at first he had only been interested in her jewel shard detecting skills.

“There you go. It was a practical, rational decision.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“I don’t see you coming up with a better argument.”

“Good point.” He laughed. “Please don’t slap me again.”

She shook her head softly, the laughter dying on her lips. She now knew how unconventional it might have looked, but - her argument still stood. It was practical. Plus, she hadn’t wanted to wear the same thing as Kikyo. It had been a sore topic back then.

“So wait, do you guys just camp now?”

“We’re waiting on escapee cubs,” Hakkaku provided. “The little ones, they don’t always understand that they can’t just shift like they want. They run around - and well, some of them went into the woods. If we just go after them, we might end up with naked children in the forest and no one wants to explain that. It’s a little easier to let people think they are wolves around here.”

“And they’re gonna be safe out there, all on their own?”

“They might be cubs, but they are youkais. They’ll be fine, they’re used to this.”

“Wait cubs…”

He stretched out his hands in front of him. “Not mine. I mean, we’re not the pack we used to be, but there are a few of us.”

“We’re not all wolves though.”

“Any dogs?” she asked with a sly smile.

“Fuck no,” he replied without skipping a beat.

“There’s the Kouga I know.”

“Hey, I’m the same guy.”

“I don’t know, you haven’t called me your woman yet. I’m not sure how to deal with this.”

“Hey now, if you want me to make ya my woman for real this time, It’ll be my pleasure.”

His words came so honestly, so rapidly that she found herself blushing. How could he still say things like this with such ease? He reminded her of the same old Kouga who had shouted his love from the top of a mountain. “I’ll pass on being whisk away through the mountains and brought to a den of man eating wolves.”

“It wasn’t all that bad,” he said with a wink. “You got to slap me.”

“You deserved it.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’d like our new pack,” Ginta pitched in. “We got a nice little house off the side of the forest. It lets you kinda change when we went.”

“Yeah, you should totally come and hang out.”

Hang out…”Oh shoot…!” Her eyes widened as she hopped to her feet, panic shining in her blue orbs. “My friends! They must be worried sick about me!” She had been so wrapped up in seeing Kouga and his pack again that she had completely forgotten about them. “I- I have to go back.” She popped her lips. “Although I don’t even know the way back…”

“I’ll escort you back. I can smell your friends all the way here.”

“Are you sure-“

“Come on, I scared ya half to death and stole you away. It’s the least I can do.”

“Wait- sis. We gotta see you again.”

“I don’t have my phone on me.”

“Neither do we…”

“Higurashi shrine!” she blurted out. “It’s my family shrine, it’s where I live. It’s not too far from here. You shouldn’t have any problem finding us. I’m going back home tomorrow afternoon.”

As much as she had made her peace with the past, getting a taste of it had brought it all rushing back and she wasn’t quite ready to let it go. Plus, they were friends right? Would it be so bad if she expanded her circle while hanging out with people who knew… everything about her?

-O-

“Alright, who took the last bagel?”

“It was sis.”

“Definitively sis.”

“I just got here!” Kagome defended as she sat down across from the boys.

“Nice try idiots,” Kouga said as he smacked them both on the back of the head. “The one who finishes them is supposed to get new ones.”

“Nuh uh, you said that was only if sis wanted some.” Ginta turned his head to look at Kagome. “Did ya want one?”

“I’m good,” she said with a laughter.

A few mornings a week, she would drop by and have breakfast with the pack. Sometimes, it was like being thrown back into the feudal era; they did most things together. Their kitchen was adapted to accommodate a much larger table. The pack was smaller than it used to be, but it did have at list a dozen members, excluding the cubs and other babies. She had yet to see most of them turn, and so didn’t know what species everyone was but they did seem to get along. She didn’t want to take up too much room, but she was enjoying being part of a group who knew about her. Sometimes, she caught herself before she overshared with her friends but there was so much she wished she could tell them. Here, they understood.

“Ya hungry?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ll lose a finger if I try to take something off the table.”

“That’s a fair assumption,” he replied as he plopped down next to her. “The cubs can get really hungry and grumpy.”

“Are you sure they’re not your cubs?” she teased.

“I’m very pleasant.”

“You hit Ginta and Hakkaku because they ate your bagel.”

“I’m their alpha. I have the bagel rights.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” she pointed out.

“You know sis, I really missed ya,” Ginta said as he took another bite of bagel. “No one else puts Kouga back in his place quite like you.”

“A real alpha female,” Hakkaku pitched in with a smile.

Kouga's eyes narrowed and the warning was clear but it did not stop the two betas from giggling. They both knew the words my woman were burning at his lips. But of course, he wouldn’t dare to say it.

-O-

“Who are you texting?”

“Sorry?” Kagome peeled her eyes away from her cellphone long enough to stare at Ayumi.

“You're smiling like an idiot. Are you texting a boy?” They hadn’t seen Kagome show much interest in dating ever since high school ended. Her lack of interest had become so apparent that even Hojo had gotten the message and finally given up on trying to woo Kagome. To see her almost giggling at her phone… it was new.

“Oh no,” she said as she put her phone down on the table. “He’s just a friend.”

“So it’s a he…”

Kagome resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes and he is a friend.”

It had taken five hundred years but they had found a balance in their friendship. It wasn’t like she didn’t like past Kouga but he did used to come on a little strong. He had proclaimed his love for her back when they didn’t know the first thing about each other! At least now she felt like she was actually getting to know him, this new and older version of him. Obviously he was the same impulsive hot head stubborn wolf at his core, but he had learned to reign it in.

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Friends. They were friends.

-O-

“Beer drinking contest?” She cringed. “That’s a little… frat housish isn’t it?”

Kouga offered her a shrug. “Sometimes the boys get bored and their competitive side gets the best of them. They can’t hunt anymore, can’t get that thrill anymore.”

She couldn’t blame them for that; she knew this world, it was her only one… but for them? They basically had to forsaken who they were. They had to hide and live in shame of their true nature. If doing a beer drinking contest made them feel better… who was she to judge? It was actually nice to see the smaller pack all gathered in the backyard, cheering on.

“I didn’t think about how hard this must be for you. For me, when I was in the feudal era, all I could about was a warm bubble bath and a comfortable bed.” The things she had to give up while in the feudal era were nothing compared to what they had lost. Especially since she had often brought a few modern era delicacies with her.

He shrugged as he clapped his hands together, letting them hang between his legs. “It’s not so bad. I mean, we try to find a few places where we can let loose. It’s all about adapting. There was a time we were on top and humans were scrambling. Now its our turn.” He had lived long enough to see the order change, who knew… maybe he would see it happen again.

“Well, I'm glad you didn’t die.”

“I knew ya missed me chasing you around.”

“It wasn’t that bad…” He gave her a side glance that was enough to let her know that he wasn’t buying it. “You did save me more than once. And I mean, it was sweet. Although you could have been a little nicer to Inuyasha.”

“That mutt was trying to cut me down with that sword of his any time he saw me.”

“Inuyasha wasn’t very good at expressing feelings. I think that might have been part of the issue with you two.”

“We did also want the same woman.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “So no one? At all?”

“I was waitin' for ya!” He watched her lips part in surprise and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Nah, I guess I just never found the one.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You thought I was the one within like 5 minutes of meeting me. I have a hard believing you never met any other women.”

“Well, you’re Kagome. You’re pretty special. It would take an idiot not to see that.”

Badump. It was brief but for a second, her heart raced. What the hell.

-O-

Loud yelps of fear escaped all of their throats the second Kouga yanked the blanket away from them. Kagome, Ginta and Hakkaku had been hiding under it, shielding their poor traumatized eyes from the horror movie still playing on the TV. Their first reflex was to cover their faces with their hands as they remained cuddled up on the couch, ignoring Kouga's presence.

“Why are you dummies watching a horror movie if you’re scared?”

“We didn’t know!”

“Ginta picked it.”

“I thought it was a comedy!” he defended.

“So why didn’t you stop it?”

“We wanted to try to finish it.”

Kouga rolled his eyes before allowing the blanket to fall on the ground. He sighed before gesturing to Ginta to move to the left, away from Kagome. “Scoot over dummy.”

Ginta more than happily obliged, giving Kouga enough space to squeeze between Kagome and himself. “But if we’re watching it, we’re watching. No hiding behind the blanket.”

It didn’t require much: his presence was enough. Kagome hadn’t hone her priestess skills in a long time but even she could easily tell that his aura had grown. What he had been before could be compared to a teenager and now… he was grown up.

“Thanks,” she whispered as she sunk deeper into the couch.

“Anything for my woman,” he teased.

He had let a few tease slip and so far she hadn’t stopped him. He knew better than to be serious, he knew better than to push it and yet, it was raging inside of him. He wanted to go that far, he wanted to see how far he could push it before he got slapped again… but he never got that far.

-O-

“Penny for your thought?”

Kagome jumped, startled, at the sound of his deep voice as it cut through the quietness of the night. “Sorry, I was just getting some fresh air. It gets a little warm in there when everyone is getting riled up.” Anything that involved drinking and games always got the pack's energy up. Obviously, this was a safe space for them which often caused them to act a bit more recklessly. She didn’t mind, but as a human, she was a bit more fragile than they were. Plus, sometimes, she did feel like an intruder. Not that they made her feel that way – on the contrary. She just didn’t always know where she fit in all of it.

“That’s the guys for ya,” he said, his grasp on his glass beer bottle weak making it swing between his legs with each step he took. “Can I sit?” he asked as he gestured to the stairs.

She moved over to the right to give him more space and offered him a smile. “Aren’t they gonna miss you in there?”

“Won’t be around forever. They gotta learn to be without me for a bit.”

“To me, you feel pretty immortal right now.”

“Me? Imagine when I saw you.”

“Maybe I should have pretended to not know you,” she joked.

“I woulda believed it. I mean you? After all this time? Not even in my wildest dreams.”

“I never thought I'd end up here. I mean, we were friends but, we weren’t that close. To think that I traveled all the way back, meet so many people… got stuck back home and then… ran into you in the middle of the woods? What are the odds?”

“Pretty fucking slim,” he replied before taking a sip of his beer. “Shit feels a little too crazy to be real. Sometimes I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you didn’t die 500 years ago.” It was what he had thought for a long time.

“Not dead. And apparently you can’t get rid of you.”

He put his beer down and tilted his head to stare at her. “Trust me, I'd never be trying to get rid of ya. Quite the opposite.”

Badump. Again. He was saying so much and so little at the same time. And she couldn’t find anything to say in return. She didn’t know what she thought. Maybe it was who he was. Maybe he was teasing her. She was almost always here. When she wasn’t they did talk a lot. She didn’t know where the line was or even where she wanted it to be. She did know it was nice to be herself, it was nice to be around someone who understand and… and she was comfortable. He was sitting next to her, his leg hovering so close to hers, they were almost touching but not quite. She wasn’t him, she wasn’t bold. She didn’t know what she wanted. But this… this was nice.

This sometimes made her heart skip a beat.

“Good,” she said, staring away from him, breaking the eye contact. Her cheeks burned in the coldness of the night as she sunk her teeth in her bottom lip.

He managed to restrain himself from smiling, his lips quivering with the need to express his joy at the small statement. It was not a slap and it was not a no. Maybe there was a hope. They had hugged naked. Well… he had been naked anyways. That was progress.

“Good.”

~The end~

#kogkag secret santa #secretsanta #kogkag

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continuallycrow · 5 years ago

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i’ll be your breath if you can be mine

final entry for casphardt week 2019 - wedding, celebration

on ao3 here

when the dust settles, the immaculate one is dead.

caspar and linhardt go home.

When the dust settles, the Immaculate One is dead.

It bleeds, and yet Linhardt struggles to tear his eyes from it. The green fluid shimmers in the dying firelight, reflects the figures of Byleth and Edelgard still clinging to one another before the creature’s lifeless form. The few remaining church soldiers are scattered across their ruined battlefield, weapons slowly falling from hopeless hands. The Adrestian forces are already moving in, taking captive those who will not come willingly, but Linhardt predicts those will be few and far between. After all, with their saints gone, they have little left to follow.

His crest, which through the battle has been activating all on its own, a beacon for those seeking his help, now lies cold at his wrist. He wonders, for a moment, if it’s changed. Cethleann is no more. It would make sense that her power within him has died, too.

He can’t quite bring himself to look.

A clang of metal on stone just behind him is enough to startle him in the overwhelming silence that seems to have blanketed Fhirdiad since the fall of the beast. He spins, just in time to catch Caspar (whom he was certain had been on the other side of the courtyard, how had he made it all the way here?) as the shorter man drops to his knees. Thank the goddess that his faith isn’t completely spent, because it’s obvious that Caspar needs him now.

“Easy, Cas, easy. Breathe for me."

There’s blood on Caspar’s face, and his breaths come in ragged and short, but at least he is breathing. He shakes, and buries his head in the folds of Linhardt’s tattered robes, worn bare and ingrained with years of dirt, with almost six years of kneeling in the midst of raging battles and saving the lives of his friends. As he envelopes Caspar in warm healing light, his love slumps against his chest and, hopefully for the last time he’ll ever need to, Linhardt closes his wounds, soothes his pain and quiets his sobs. Caspar was the first life he ever had to save, and in this moment he swears to himself that he will also be his last.

They ride back to the monastery in one of the supply carts. For once, Caspar is the one who spends the time asleep, while Linhardt holds his head in his lap and continues to comfort him, both with magic and with soft touches of scarred hands, entwined, never letting go. Never again.

Late at night, he whispers in his ear to settle him as he dreams. “We won, Caspar. We won the war.”

Days are allowed to pass by without action, for the first time since they were little more than children. The halls and gardens of Garreg Mach bear an air of serenity, talks of peace plans and cathedral bells floating by on the wind. When the hurt are healed and the final ally returns home, a ball is planned for the night the Garland Moon rises in the sky. Linhardt writes home, and within days, a parcel arrives with new evening clothes, as he’s long since grown too tall to wear anything from his academy days.

It feels like freedom, to dress in something that isn’t armor-plated or woven through with protective charms, so much so that he can’t even begrudge his father’s taste, the ruffles in the shirt silk and the ridiculous, ornate cloak that falls past his knees. In front of the mirror, he thinks of what Caspar would say if he were to leave his hair loose, but then, there is nothing to hide from now. Besides, Caspar’s habit of untying it when they’re alone is something he doesn’t wish to miss out on ever again. So he takes a white ribbon and twists a simple braid, tied at the end.

Caspar wears a waistcoat the same blue as his eyes, and Linhardt realises he wants to look at Caspar without his armor every day. Years of wielding heavy weapons have made him broad and reliable and beautiful, goddess, so beautiful he never fails to take Linhardt’s breath away. The veins in his arms when he rolls up his shirtsleeves make Linhardt’s knees a little weak, and all the more so when, after the feast when the band begins to play, his lover takes him into those strong arms and leads him to dance. In all their years together, they have never been able to dance, but the moment of uncertainty is soon forgotten when something in Linhardt tells him to draw Caspar close and take the lead.

Perhaps it’s Cethleann. The legends claimed she loved to dance. Though her crest no longer glows within him, perhaps a little of her is left somewhere.

Tonight, something takes hold, and they spin together, bodies pressed close. Other pairs surround them, and as the wine flows, the dances get faster, wilder. Their friends trade partners and laughter and happy, happy tears, but Linhardt is content to simply hold Caspar close. That is, until the shorter man is torn away from him by a giggling, flushed Dorothea, and he finds himself relieved of a dance partner before he’s quite realised what’s going on.

It’s all planned, more or less. Dorothea knows what he’d like to do tonight, and she’ll give Caspar a push in the right direction when it’s time, or so he hopes. The good thing about Dorothea is that she’ll do a lot for love, regardless of whether it’s her own or that of others. She’s as ready as Linhardt is, and thus, all he can pray for is that Caspar wants this too.

The climb to the top of the goddess tower has never seemed longer. He’s thankful for the cloak after all, as he leans against the balcony and gazes up to the stars. All there is to do is wait, and it seems like an age before he hears the echo of telltale heavy footsteps making their way up the spiralling staircase.

“I knew I’d find you here.” Caspar’s voice is quiet, heavy with tiredness. Without even turning around, Linhardt can tell that he’s smiling, just a little. “Of course you did. I told you, one day, I’d wait for you here.”

“We were nineteen.” Caspar has come up behind him, taken his place at his right side and pressed up close there. Linhardt turns his attention from the night sky to his lover, and finds those beautiful eyes, the colour of the sea that his birth-month names, gazing up at him in the moonlight. He smiles, and a hand comes up to cup Caspar’s face, to hold that contact for a moment he hopes to repeat over and over. “Nineteen. Awake in a fortress in Adrestia, where everyone else was asleep. You should have been sleeping too, and yet, you lay awake and asked me to tell you stories.” “You tell wonderful stories.” Caspar blinks slowly, a small smile twitching the corners of his lips. Linhardt decides he would quite like to kiss those lips, and so he does, only briefly, but relishing in the knowledge that he can now kiss Caspar’s lips whenever the desire strikes him. “I told you the legend of the tower.” He strokes the other’s cheekbone, and something must touch a nerve, because Caspar shivers for reasons that can’t possibly be the temperature. If he were cold, he’d be wrapped up in Linhardt’s cloak by now. “The stories of all the lovers who have sealed their fate up here.”

There’s silence for a moment. “You promised me we could seal our fate, too. But, Lin, it isn’t the Ethereal Moon now. It isn’t the right time.”

Linhardt bites his lip, and retrieves something small from the pocket deep within his clothes, but doesn’t show it to Caspar. Instead, he takes his hand. “There are other ways to commit to someone, Cas. A thousand ways to tell them you love them, and wish to live out your days in one another’s embrace.” He turns Caspar’s hand palm-up in his own, and in his palm, rests the ring. The silver almost glows in the moonlight, the inset stones a deep, bright green. Caspar’s mouth falls open, but, for the first time in Linhardt’s memory, he appears speechless.

“I… Caspar, I have been in love with you in every memory I have regarding the two of us.” The words come easily, now. It feels as though a door has been unlocked, and beyond it, are all the words Linhardt has waited all these years to say. “I can’t tell you when I realised it, but I can tell you that I am more than certain of many things. The first is that I would follow you, to the ends of the world and back again, through all of your plans and your adventures and the paths you intend to follow. I also know that, when we tire of the tracks and trails, I wish to remain beside you, and for you to wake in my arms, and fall asleep there, each morning and every night.”

“Lin- I-” “Let me finish, Cas, I have been trying to give you this speech for years, goddess, I…”

It’s too late, though, there are tears, and the ornate proposal in Linhardt’s mind is taken off course by Caspar, wrapping arms around him and easing him down to his knees, because he’s trembling like a sapling in a rainstorm, and falling on the stone floors would hurt too much to think about. Caspar produces a handkerchief and wordlessly dries Linhardt’s eyes, takes him into an embrace and a kiss.

“I appreciate the speech. You know I love to hear you talk. But what I love more than speeches is you, Linny. When you wake up in the morning and the first thing you tell me is that you missed me. The way you somehow know I need healing before even I do. You’re at least three-quarters of the whole reason I’m alive and without you, I’d be lost. I’d be missing a real big piece of myself - the part that I know you’re keeping safe right here.” Caspar’s hand presses to Linhardt’s chest, just over the spot where his heart is threatening to beat right out of his ribcage. “You don’t need to wish for things like forever with me. I’m already sure that I’m never, ever leaving you, you utter, hopeless, beautiful, romantic, idiot. ” He laughs, and pulls Linhardt close.

They’re both crying now, but the tears are no longer hot, frustrated, hurt ones. Caspar’s are of joy, and Linhardt’s something like relief. The latter takes a few deep breaths before he lifts his head, and takes the hand that he pressed the ring into only moments. Caspar fans out his fingers and Linhardt plucks the jewellery from his palm.

“Caspar von Bergliez… will you marry me?”

They wed one afternoon drenched in sunlight and joy, a few days before Caspar’s birthday, beneath an ornate archway in the gardens draped in white silk and red roses. Linhardt keeps composure all through his vows, and finally spills out all the things he wanted to say in his proposal. This time, Caspar cries through the proceedings, and doesn’t stop until they’re pronounced married and Linhardt can kiss him as petals and rice rain down upon them.

The war is over. Peace is upon Fódlan, and, from the ashes and rubble, for Linhardt and Caspar and all those around them, a new world is born at last.

#caspar von bergliez #linhardt von hevring #casphardt #fe3h #casphardt week #lincas #caslin #linspar

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aalissy · 5 years ago

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Everything is Blue

And we’re back with chapter 12 of Dreaming in Black and White!! Yay!! This chapter is filled with gooey, Lukanette goodiness. Which I needed after the finale hehe. I hope you guys enjoy it <3. Also have you seen the trailer for Chat Blanc?? Omg, I am shooketh!!!

AO3

Marinette watched Adrien rush out of her room with a light frown upon her face. An uneasy feeling hit her stomach as she wondered what had gotten into the model. Hopefully, it was just a cold and nothing too serious. Her frown increased as she wondered if there was anything that she could do to help him feel better faster. Suppose I could bake him a croissant and give it to him tomorrow, she thought to herself, If he goes to class tomorrow... that is.

“Do you think Adrien’s alright, Tikki?” Marinette called out to the empty room, nibbling her lower lip pensively, “He looked really pale when he left here.”

The small kwami phased out of her purse, zipping over to the young designer, “I’m not certain, Marinette. I couldn’t really see him, but he definitely sounded very strange today,” Tikki gave her a knowing smile that she couldn’t quite ascertain the meaning of.

“I thought he sounded a little off too. Well, in any case, I hope he’s okay...” she sucked on her lower lip slightly in thought, “I was actually planning on making him a croissant tomorrow if he showed up for class.”

“That’d be very kind of you, Marinette,” Tikki’s face split into a loving smile before she hugged Marinette’s cheek tightly between her small paws. The designer giggled before bringing her own hands up to cup the small bug to her gently. She nuzzled into the warm hug as both her and Tikki laughed together.

Eventually, she stood up and stretched, letting out a loud yawn before heading to her computer screen, “Suppose I had better print out some more copies of my survey to hand out tomorrow.”

Her kwami merely grinned in response before diving diving back into Marinette’s purse to take a short nap. Setting up her computer to begin printing out the short document, she was drawn to her sketchbook. Humming to herself as a new design idea hit her, she began doodling the dress. About halfway through, however, she was startled from her process by a small knock on her trapdoor.

“Come in,” Marinette called down, her tongue sticking out in concentration as she returned to her sketch.

In a few seconds, Sabine popped her head up to stare up at her daughter with a loving smile, “Marinette, there’s someone here to see you.”

Blinking in confusion, a small frown marred her features before she grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. Following her mom downstairs, Marinette tried to peek around her to see who it was.

Did Adrien forget something? She thought to herself, or could it be Alya coming to check up on the study session? Shrugging, she continued going down the stairs until she arrived in the bakery. A large grin split across her face as she saw a familiar boy standing by the counter. She walked towards him happily as she called out excitedly, “Luka?! What are you doing here?”

He turned to her in surprise before smiling at her, “I haven’t seen you in a while, Marinette, and I missed you,” a soft look entered into Luka’s eyes as he stared into her own. His hands reached for hers, holding onto them softly and she felt her heart melt into a puddle. A small tingle shot up her arm from the contact and she let out a small sigh of happiness.

Wow, I haven’t felt like this for anyone since I first met Adrien, Marinette squealed to herself, I must really like Luka, and I’m pretty sure he likes me too, so maybe...

“D-did you maybe want to go upstairs to talk?” she stuttered slightly, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“That’d be perfect, Marinette. I actually have something I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now,” the musician squeezed her hand gently. Marinette squeaked and giggled to herself silently before leading Luka up the stairs, his warm hand still within hers.

Once they reached her bedroom, she let go of his hand somewhat reluctantly, tapping her index fingers together nervously. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes shyly before rocking back and forth on her feet, “So... What did you want to ask me?”

Luka cleared his throat, grabbing onto one of her hands again to stop her nervous fidgeting, causing Marinette to let out a small squeak. He drew closer to her, cupping her cheek gently with his other hand as he did so, “Marinette, I’ve been in love with you for so long I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like not to be. You have been the inspiration behind every song since the day I met you on that boat. The only music I can create has to do with you, Marinette. So would you do me the honor of going out with me?”

She practically swooned at his words, a giggle of pure joy bubbling out from her as giddiness swept over her entire body, “Yes! Yes, of course I will, Luka! I’d absolutely love too!”

“Really?” he whispered before she nodded, biting on her lower lip shyly.

Suddenly, Marinette was pulled even closer into his arms. The hand that was previously holding onto her wrist moved up to her other cheek so that both of his hands were cupping her face delicately. Luka’s lips collided with hers and her eyes widened slightly before fluttering closed. A soft sigh left her before she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. He smiled into their kiss and one of his hands moved from her cheek to wrap around one of her pigtails.

Eventually, Marinette leaned back for air, sucking in a gasp of breath as her eyes slowly opened. Her lips parted in awe as a small gasp escaped her, “Luka... your hair, your eyes, your jacket! T-they aren’t gray!” she whispered in awe.

His own eyes widened in awe as he stared at her, “Marinette... I... look at your hair! Your eyes! You’re absolutely breathtaking!”

A deep flush heated her cheeks before she squealed, burying herself in his arms, “Luka, you know what this means, right?”

“You’re my soulmate, Marinette,” he breathed out.

“You’re my soulmate,” Marinette whispered his words back to him. Her eyes filled with happy tears as she clutched him tighter to her chest.

God, all this time I wasted on Adrien when my soulmate was right here all along!

“Marinette,” Luka leaned back, causing her to look into his beautiful, brightly colored eyes, “Would you like to go somewhere with me right now?”

“Yes, please!” she confirmed breathily. His hand grasped her wrist, racing her out the trapdoor and down the stairs two at a time as she giggled heartily behind him. Marinette tugged him to a stop at her kitchen, “Luka, where are we going?”

“Somewhere, anywhere where we can see more of this!” he gestured at her hair and eyes before they continued their run eagerly. They ran out of the bakery as the door chimed softly behind them.

Marinette laughed in amazement as she attempted to keep up with the energetic boy. Her eyes drifted upwards, however, before she slowed to a stop. Luka attempted to tug her forward but looked back in concern when she didn’t move, “Luka... look at the sky!”

His own gaze was drawn upwards as he stared up at the sky in bewilderment. For the first time in their entire lives, it wasn’t a light grey. They both stood there, frozen, as they looked up at the color that shimmered and sparkled above them.

After a few more moments, Luka broke out of his daze, “Come on, Marinette, let’s go to the Seine and just relax.”

“O-okay,” Marinette stuttered, nodding dumbly. Her gaze remained fixed on the sky in wonder as the musician practically dragged her to the river.

A little gasp escaped Luka’s lips and she looked at him in concern before she noticed that his eyes were locked on the river. She let out her own puff of air as she looked at the vision before her. Instead of its usual dark grey, the river was now bright and practically shined with color. The tiny waves sparkled under the sunlight and soon Marinette was tugging the wonderstruck boy over to the bridge. Her hands tightened on the metal bars as she leaned forward, staring down at the beautiful color. Luka’s shoulder brushed gently against hers as he leaned down with her.

She squeezed his hand once before turning to him with new tears of joy brimming within her eyes, “Thank you, Luka. Thank you for giving me this.”

“No, Marinette, thank you,” he squeezed her hand back.

The young designer let out a happy cry before burying herself within his arms. Luka grasped her to him tightly before leaning back, cupping Marinette’s chin in his hand before bringing their lips together. She sighed, burying her hands within his hair as she kissed him back. His head tilted, deepening the kiss as he embraced her tighter, clutching her to his chest almost desperately. Far too soon, they broke apart to suck in a few deep lungfuls of air.

“I love you, Marinette,” the musician looked into her eyes as he spoke with complete and utter sincerity, “You inspire me everyday with your kindness and your beauty and I’m never going to let you go,” his thumb came up to rub her cheek tenderly as adoration filled his expression.

“I love you too, Luka,” Marinette whispered back, “You give me more than I could ever dream of.”

She eventually managed to tear her eyes away from his deep, colorful gaze before she looked at the other objects around her. For the first time since Luka’s confession, she frowned. The grass, trees, and even the bridge were still a dull grey. The designer looked down at her outfit and her frown deepened as she saw that even her jeans were still their usual, light grey and not filled with color like she was expecting.

Marinette was interrupted from her musings, however, as Luka called out to her, “You alright, Marinette?”

“Yeah, I-I’m fine, but... how come we can’t see every color?” she turned back to look at him.

He blinked for a second, looking around them for seemingly the first time before looking back at her and shrugging his shoulders uncertainly, “I’m not sure, Mari. But I have to confess that I don’t know very much about how soulmates work. Maybe we just need to wait a few days?”

Marinette hummed, nibbling on her lower lip in thought, “You’re probably right. I don’t know very much about soulmates myself, you know,” she gave him a small smile.

“Do you want to go sit down there?” Luka nodded towards their usual spot.

She grinned, following him towards the water’s edge. They both sat down, dangling their feet over the river. The musicians’ hand reached out for hers, holding onto it gently as they watched the small waves lap against the wall. Marinette leaned her head onto his shoulder, tilting her head up to the sky to feel the wind gently brush against her bangs. The heat from the sun flushed her cheeks as she relaxed contentedly against the boy next to her. She was startled from her serenity, however, from a familiar jingle of an ice cream cart.

“Oh!” Marinette jumped up, pulling Luka up to his feet as well, “Look! It’s Andre’s!”

“Would you like to get some ice cream, Marinette?” he looked down at her with sparkling eyes before chuckling with amusement.

A faint blush heated her cheeks before she giggled, “Yes, please!” She grinned at him, dragging him over to the cart. When they made their way back over to the bridge, the two of them stared up at Andre with bright, eager eyes.

“Ah, what a harmonious young couple,” he smiled down at them, “Blackberry and blueberry is the perfect match for you two,” the man said before leaning into his cart. Beams lip up their faces as Andre scooped two flavors of the beautiful new color onto a cone for them.

“Thank you!” Marinette said graciously. A smile grew across her face as she paid the man, taking the ice cream cone. Her other hand reached out for Luka’s as she led the boy back to their usual spot.

The musician glanced down at her with a soft grin as they sat down together, “That looks delicious, Marinette. Did you know I’ve never had Andre’s before? Is it good?”

“Mhm,” she nodded eagerly after taking a bite from the cone, “I can’t believe you’ve never had Andre’s! It’s the best ice cream in the world!”

“I guess I’ve just never had someone to come here with,” Luka shrugged, his eyes sparkling down at her, “I heard it always tasted better with someone to share it with.”

Marinette glanced down shyly, warmth heating her cheeks as a giddy feeling danced within her chest. She held the spoon in front of his mouth and gave him a warm smile, “Here, try some then!”

Luka leaned forward, taking a bite from the frozen treat. His eyes lip with excitement as the flavor exploded across his tongue, “Mmm! You’re right, Marinette! That is delicious.”

“Told you so,” she stuck her tongue out playfully before smiling timidly, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, “We should come back soon and get some more.”

“That sounds perfect, Marinette,” he swooped down, giving her a surprise peck on the lips.

The designer beamed happily after the kiss ended before she shivered slightly as a wave of cold ran through her. She wrapped her light blazer around herself tighter as she tried to get warmer. I wish ice cream wasn’t so cold, Marinette thought to herself longingly.

“You cold?” Luka asked in concern as he watched her huddle into herself.

She nodded, “Yeah, sorry. It’s that darn ice cream’s fault,” Marinette giggled.

“Come on. Let’s get you back home where it’s warm,” he stood up, placing his own jacket over her shoulders snugly before nodding at the sky, “It is getting late.”

She blinked up at the sky in surprise as she realized how much time had passed. The sky was slowly darkening and the sun had almost completely lowered in the horizon. Marinette turned back to Luka as she realized he was holding his hand out for her own. She took his hand gratefully, letting him pull her up as they began the trek back to the bakery.

“Won’t you be cold without your jacket?” the designer asked in concern.

He merely chuckled at her before squeezing her hand, “I’ll be alright, Marinette. Besides I always feel warm when I’m near you.”

She nodded, a blush flooding her cheeks once again as she squealed silently with giddiness. Marinette’s head nuzzled further into the jacket as a faint waft of his cologne surrounded her. She sighed with contentment as warmth slowly returned to her body.

When they finally neared the bakery, she attempted to shrug out of his jacket before he stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder, “Keep it, Mari. It looks way better on you than it ever did on me,” Luka smiled softly down at her.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded dumbly before shaking her head at herself, “I-I mean thank you, Luka. That’s very kind of you,” a silly smile spread across her cheeks at his words. He turned to leave and Marinette finally managed to snap out of her stupor and run after him before he could get too far away.

“Yes, Mari,” he turned to look down at her with confusion after she tugged on his arm.

She leaned up on her tip-toes before kissing him softly on the lips, “I just wanted to say thank you for this amazing day, Luka.”

He grinned softly at her before wrapping her up in a warm hug, “Thank you too, Marinette.”

“W-would you mind coming back this weekend to hang out with me again?” she stuttered after leaning back. The designer sucked her lower lip into her mouth, tapping her index fingers together nervously.

“I’d absolutely love too. By that time I’d have written a new song for you,” Luka winked at her.

Marinette let out a puff of air in disbelief and wonder, “Wow, really?”

“Absolutely! I already have a few ideas of how the melody would go right now, so I’d better get started before I forget,” Luka waved at her before turning and heading towards his houseboat.

“I can’t wait to hear it!” she shouted after him, waving until he completely disappeared from her vision. With that, a dazed sigh escaped her lips before she shakily made her way back to her house. When she walked up the stairs and entered her kitchen, she squealed before running up and enrapturing her parents in a large hug, “Maman! Papa! Luka’s my soulmate!”

“I’d wondered where you two kids had run off too,” Tom winked at her.

“Oh, Marinette, honey, I’m so happy for you,” Sabine exclaimed with happy tears in her eyes.

Her eyes drifted up to her mother’s hair which she looked at in wonder. The previously black hair now shimmered with color in the bright lights of her kitchen, “Your hair is very beautiful, Maman. What color is it?”

“It’s blue, sweetheart, and it looks just like yours,” she reached out and brushed a hand through her own daughter’s hair.

“Blue,” Marinette whispered in awe, “What an amazing color!”

With that, she kissed them both on the cheeks before racing into her bedroom upstairs. Her eyes immediately searched for her mirror before letting out an audible gasp as she stared at her reflection.

“My eyes are so blue,” she murmured in fascination.

“Congratulations, Marinette,” Tikki yawned, rubbing one of her eyes tiredly as she did so.

The designer squealed as she looked at her kwami. Her own eyes stood out among the light greys of her bedroom, though they were significantly darker than her own.

“Your eyes are blue too, Tikki!” Marinette exclaimed happily.

“Is blue your favorite color, then?” Tikki giggled at her.

“Oh, most definitely,” she nodded her head emphatically, “I can’t imagine any color being better than this!” she collapsed onto her chaise with a deep, awe-filled sigh. Her eyes scanned her room for any other signs of the color, yet there were only brief hints of it scattered amongst the dull greys, whites, and blacks.

“I’m very happy that you found your soulmate today, Marinette! You deserve it, and Luka seems like a wonderful match for you,” Tikki zoomed over to nuzzle the designer’s cheek happily.

“He is wonderful, isn’t he?” she sighed dreamily, “I should have given up on Adrien ages ago.”

The small kwami chuckled, “Crushes can be very hard to get rid of, Marinette,” Tikki pointed out wisely, “But I’m glad that it all worked out for you in the end.”

Stretching, the designer stood up and began walking over to her closet. She grabbed her favorite pair of pajamas and stared at them with a small pout. Her lips twisted to the side dejectedly before blowing out a breath of air, “I wish they were blue.”

“You can always get new pajamas, you know,” the bug-like creature interjected with a cute giggle.

Marinette laughed as she shrugged into the tank-top and sweatpants, “You’re right!” she kissed her kwami on the top of her head before climbing up the ladder to her bed, “Goodnight, Tikki! I love you!”

“I love you too, Marinette,” Tikki zoomed up after her as the designer flopped ungracefully onto her bed. Rolling her eyes at her owner, she curled up on the pillow next to her.

I hope I see more colors tomorrow, Marinette thought to herself as she snuggled under her covers. She clenched her eyes shut tight with excitement as she slipped into a deep sleep. Her dreams were filled with the color blue and a certain musician as she couldn’t wait to see him again.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fic #fanfic #lukanette #adrienette #marichat #ladrien #ladynoir

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