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be-ace-write-crime · 4 years

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Lovely Bride - Second Wedding Night

You wake up after your night with Wamuu and return to your empty village, the last survivor of the Hamon tribe. You struggle with conflicting emotions, anger to the people that made you a sacrificial lamb, grief for the tribe that raised you and the people you grew up with. So much has happened in such a short time and nothing will ever be the same again.

Thankfully Esidisi is there to comfort you.

You and Wamuu made love all night and you suspect a decent portion of the morning as well, after the candles had burned out. He took care to clean the sweat, cum and oil off your skin, probably realizing how badly he had wrecked your body after the fact. He put your wreath aside and let you snuggle up in his bed with some clean pillows, and you fell asleep almost instantly.

The stress and your rendezvous with the first pillarman had thoroughly exhausted you. You woke up alone, a single candle left to light the room for you. It hadn’t been lit for long. Maybe an hour or two? Either way, the room had become stuffy, smelling of sex and burnt out candles, so even if you couldn’t get outside, you weren’t staying in this room.

You picked up your dress, your sandals, and combed your hair with a comb left on the table beside the one remaining light. You were about to leave the room when you thought to put your wreath back on, as your first husband clearly appreciated the look and symbolism of it. You also thought to bring a dagger that was on display as one of Wamuu’s trophies. You knew he wouldn’t mind you taking it and while you were neither scared your betrothed would eat you, nor did you have the hubris to assume you could take them in a fight if you had a dagger, being sent around the lair of vampires and vengeful gods unarmed had been making you nervous since yesterday. With the sheathed dagger tucked into the belt around your waist you venture into the hallway.

The candle light didn’t reach very far, but far enough you can see a faintly shifting silhouette in the shadows leading deeper into the catacombs. Very well, not like you wanted to go there and the squirmy shadows of what had to be vampires only helped to solidify that decision. You looked over your shoulder constantly as you made your way back outside. The hatch had been left open, though the early evening light made it too dangerous for the pillarmen or the vampires to be out.

Every step into the light felt like a wave of relief. You blew out your candle and left it on the steps, almost running outside. It wasn’t until you felt the breeze blowing through the temple that you noticed the trails of tears on your face. You rarely cried, but indeed, you had much to cry about. Tears of relief, happiness and sadness alike.

The sun kissing your face felt heavenly and you could have probably stood there until the sunset, if a warm chuckle hadn’t pulled you out of your thoughts. You wiped your tears away and looked to see Esidisi at the bottom of the stairs, just barely visible in the shade.

“You look beautiful like that,” he said. “I look forward to the day I can embrace the sun by your side,” he added, casting a mournful glance at the shadows edge he couldn’t cross. It seemed so strange that someone as powerful as him was unable to touch you simply because you were standing in the sunlight.

“I wish I could share it with you,” you said, without thinking.

“You do?” he asked, looking up at you again. He seemed surprised.

“I wouldn’t deny anyone the sun… It would be cruel…” you said, shyly running a hand through your hair as he graced you with a warm smile.

“Such a kind heart after all you’ve endured,” he said. “Your village is still there, though you will find it deserted. I assume that’s where you were headed.”

“I just wanted some fresh air, but… now that you mention it, I would like to go there,” you agreed.

“Go ahead. I will catch up to you once the sun has set,” Esidisi said, leaning against the wall and waiting out the daytime.

You nodded and went ahead as we’d told you to do. From what you’d gathered he was the second in command, higher than Wamuu in their hierarchy, but below Kars. He was the one to second your plea for your sister and nieces to be spared. You would have to ask him about them later.

The way down to your village was eerily quiet. Normally you’d hear some noise, see the lights from cooking fires and candles, but the place was abandoned as you’d been warned it would be. The gods had come down from the mountain and wiped out all the people that once resided here, leaving the empty shell of your birthplace behind. In the village square there was a table laid out for a banquet, big enough for the whole village.

Wild animals and some escaped livestock had made their own feast of it in the absence of the humans during the day, but everything looked as if your people just vanished into thin air. Cups and cutlery strewn about, food and wine on the tables, homes untouched. No time to pack up and flee, no time to get the weapons and fight, just a meal, over as soon as it began.

You had been crying since you first stepped outside, but seeing with your own two eyes how the people you called your tribe would be gone forever made you sob hysterically. The ones that had raised you, loved you, and then sent you off to die had all been killed, leaving you alone to mourn them.

“C-Celebrating, were you?!” you spat angrily at the empty table. Wild dogs and other pests had dragged the meat away, while half eaten and picked at fruit, vegetables and pastries were being consumed by flies. A few birds scattered as you approached and dragged a metal tray off the table, leaving it to clatter against the cobblestones of the square. The plates were next, smashed at your feet or hurled like disks to burst into shards of earthenware against the walls of empty homes.

One pitcher full of wine was miraculously untouched on the table, at least until you found it. Booze would either calm you down or be a perfect fuel to your fire. You chugged half the damn vase to quench your thirst either way.

“Was it worth it?! Were all of us you sent to die worth it, you bastards?!” you demanded, climbing on the table and hurling the serving blows around, kicking everything off that was in your way.

“How many idiots does one village need?!” you spat at the empty head chair, picking up the plate and yeeting it with a perfect spin in the direction you came from. It would have gone far if your husband hadn’t caught up to you by then, batting at the dish reflexively, only to have it shatter in his face like shrapnel.

You tried to compose yourself quickly. Surely throwing a plate at his face would warrant killing you, he’d killed for less, you were throwing a tantrum in the evidence of that fact, but you knew he wasn’t going to. For one not to go against Kars, but also because the look on his face was far from the righteous fury that should have been there.

You were standing on a table, leftover food and sauce on the ends of your dress and up to your ankles, ugly crying like a fussy child, but Esidisi merely brushed the stone splinters from his hair and handed you the big carving knife you had somehow stepped over.

“Don’t stop on my account, dear (Y/N). In fact, if I can assist you in any way, do not hesitate to tell me,” he said, smiling calmly.

“I could stab you with this, you know?” you asked, sniffling loudly.

“That dagger would be better for stabbing, but you could,” he agreed, looking up at you. “If it would make you feel better, I would let you. I remember needing to vent for weeks after my own tribe was wiped out. How lord Kars put up with me during that time is beyond me, but I am infinitely grateful he did,” he explained, leaving himself open for an attack.

You contemplated doing it for several long moments, even raising the knife over your head, but ultimately deciding against it. You weren’t scared he would retaliate or punish you, but in the end you saw no point in harming the one person showing you kindness in that moment. You tossed the knife away and kicked some more tableware around like an angry cat.

“‘S no point… just no point in… a-anything I do, is there? W-What am I gonna do now? What need do you have for a human? Just gonna live underground for a… a month and then die like everyone here!!!” you sobbed, hiding your face, which must have been a huge mess by then. Right now he certainly wasn’t sympathising with you because of your good looks.

“You will live, you will grow stronger and wiser and live out the full extent of your life. You alone will carry the legacy of your people. You will be our agent in achieving perfection and when we do we shall forever embrace the light of day beside you,” he answered, holding you against his chest and stroking your back softly.

If you muttered something along the lines of ‘lying bastard’ he kindly ignored it and let you finish crying.

“You were right, you know. The best men and women your village had to offer were the first to die. I believe after your sister and her daughters left, there was hardly any goodness left among them. They took two old horses and a small cart and were practically chased out under threat of being stoned to death. I handed them the box lord Kars said to give them after they had departed, fearing it might be stolen from them. Don’t tell, but I informed them you were alive and what you had done. Your sister cried, as she had done all evening, then brandished a spear at me and said for me to treat you better than your people had treated you,” he said, letting you sob into his shoulder until you ran out of steam. You were probably dehydrated too and seriously hungry.

“Every person worth their salt here seems to think the world of you. Your sister risking her life to threaten me, the tribe’s warriors who died to protect you, lord Kars who saw your shine even in your darkest hour.”

“Everyone else here seemed to think I was fairly expendable,” you huffed bitterly.

“They seemed to think sacrificing you would save all of their lives. They were slaughtered for treating you so cruelly, beloved, but they knew you were the greatest treasure they had to offer,” he corrected, picking you and setting you down now that you had recovered.

Crying like that really did make you feel better. You were never allowed a tantrum of such epic proportions before, just shy of stabbing your husband, while he supported you through every second of it.

“Speaking of treasure,” he said, a sly smile on his face. “This is a small village, but it seems wealthy enough. There is no one left to care for its worldly possessions now,” he said, quirking a brow to emphasize his mischievous intentions. Well, mischief by the standards of a wrathful, mass murdering god. If two days ago someone had told you you’d essentially be pillaging your own home, stealing from the dead, you’d have thought they were crazy.

“You’re not… wrong…” you agreed. His smile was contagious, and you found yourself going along with his idea.

The full moon was high in the sky and the tables and chairs in the square had been repurposed to light a bonfire with his magic. You knew how and where money was hidden and Esidisi caught on to the pattern quickly.

“Go fetch your own treasures, darling. Vampires could do this,” he said, whistling to summon a few and instructing them on how to search.

You could name a few things you wanted, but never dared to ask for. Now you were the sole heir to the hamon tribe and your husband ordered you to fetch whatever treasure you desired, so who were you to disobey?

As such you met him later in the town square, decked out in enough jewelry to sink your body to the bottom of a river, a silk dress in a vibrant wine red color and a stola to match, while your palla, a scarf reserved for upperclass women of Rome, was now a makeshift bag for numerous scrolls you had stolen, detailing the history and craft of your people. Those were all going with you and you’d guard them with your life.

You were still bitter about what your people had done to you. You might always carry some resentment for the rest of your life, but the warriors of your tribe had given their lives to save those selfish creatures and you wouldn’t allow them and their sacrifice to be dismissed by history just because the people they fought to protect were ungrateful bastards.

Your haul made for an odd little collection of treasure. You had also taken to wearing the shiny, gold anklets you found. These were typically reserved for the… courtesans of your village. The women who kept themselves standing by laying on their backs. They were frowned upon by common folk, but were considered desirable nonetheless. There was no one left now to judge you for your dress being too short or the anklets you wore with your wreath and your dagger.

You were the last living member of the Hamon tribe and a bride to gods. Dressed in all gold, or wearing nothing at all would make you no less of a queen.

“Master Esidisi?” you greeted him upon finding him again. He quickly smiled when he saw you, but you could tell something had happened.

“You look beautiful by the light of the fire as you do in the daylight, my dear,” he said, standing up and coming to welcome you.

You noticed at least one of the vampires had… well it had died, but you couldn’t phantom what had happened to it. It looked like it had blown up and then melted. “Don’t worry about that thing. It decided to berate me when it couldn’t find what I had ordered it to search for.”

“What was it supposed to search for?” you asked. It probably wasn’t anything you’d picked up. The scrolls had all been in plain sight and you didn’t need to search hard for fine clothes and jewelry.

“The chief of your village had come into possession of a precious red stone, called the Aja. I ordered the vampires to search his home for it, but they found nothing,” he explained.

“Tsk, as if that cowardly bastard would hide anything you might look for in his own house,” you muttered, jumping when you realized what you had just done. Perhaps you drank a bit too much wine earlier. “Don’t kill me, I just know what a prick he used to be!”

“I wouldn’t kill you for such an infraction, (Y/N). You are my bride and equal. This vermin didn’t know his place,” he assured you. “Where would he hide the Aja if not in his home?”

“I can’t say for sure…” you started. Giving the wrong answer seemed more dangerous than not knowing, but you could hazard a guess in this case. “I imagine he’d hide it where he hid everything he really cared about. His mistress, his bastard children and your stone,” you said, pointing to the little home uphill. It was near the treeline and his sons and mistress were among the first to be devoured by vampires as a result. The elderly chief hadn’t been one of your favorite people to begin with, but losing his sons and the woman he loved made him worse.

You looked around the home you knew well, noticing the loose stones around the fireplace in the kitchen where no one would think anything was hidden.

“I have been by this house before,” Esidisi said.

“I think I found something,” you said, prying the stone loose stones out.

“Your sister was here, gathering your things,” he continued, insisting.\

“It’s stuck, could you please help?” you asked, trying to ignore him.

“You were the chief’s illegitimate daughter, is that right?” he asked, just as the stone came loose and you flopped backwards onto your old kitchen floor, gold and silver accessories jingling as you went.

“Ow…” you huffed, looking up at your husband from where you lay. “I spent enough time crying over that already. I have better things to waste tears on now,” you answered with a long sigh, slowly sitting back up.

There was a box in a little hollowed out space you uncovered. “He loved my mother and my brothers, but not me. I think he felt I should have died before any of them. I figure that was his real reason for sending me as a sacrifice. My sister was in the same boat as me, but she found herself a good husband.”

“Was he killed by the vampires, or one of us?” Esidisi asked, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“Typhoid, almost a year ago. My nieces lived with me during that time. Gods forbid they might have caught it too. I loved them so much… My mother still thought herself my father’s true love, ignoring how she was led on and made to live in poverty, treated like an adultering whore for being with a married man. My brothers were young, though they got it in their heads just like our mother that they would be in charge someday. Our father loved them, though. Had them trained to be warriors since they were children. In the end they didn’t wake up in time to scream, let alone fight… It’s been a few weeks since then...” you explained, crying again, but less frenzied than before. All that wine was definitely keeping you from throwing another tantrum, if only because you’d fall over if you tried.

“My sincerest condolences for your loss and you have my respect for what you did to save your sister and nieces,” your husband whispered. “You will never be disrespected like that, my sweet. We shall treat you as a goddess, as you rightfully deserve to be,” he promised.

You could tell he was serious, despite his ruthlessness in battle. His condolences were sincere, and you were grateful he’d been the one to send your sister on her way.

“You don’t mind that I’m human? Whatever happened to the women of your kind?” you asked.

“Our tribe existed until some eight thousand years ago. I was Lord Kars’ right hand in his endeavor to elevate our immortal kind through the stone masks, but they rejected his views. Kars decided if they wanted to spend eternity cowering underground instead of striving for more, then they might as well be dead,” Esidisi explained. “When he gave the order, I did not hesitate. The only ones spared were Wamuu and Santana, who were only infants at the time. Regardless, I say he chose his companions well. Yourself included,” he said, kissing your forehead.

By now your eyes had to be wide as saucers and you were regretting not bringing more wine, which might have made that story a little easier to unpack.

“I can’t say for sure whether you made the right choices, but wiping out all women of your immortal kind and then choosing me definitely sounds like a decision made by someone stabbed in the head with several stone spikes,” you said, making him laugh again.

“My beautiful (Y/N), what matters is that lord Kars sees the potential of a goddess in you and more than any creature that has ever walked this earth he has been a master of realizing such potential,” your husband assured you, taking the box you had almost forgotten about and flipping it open, revealing the brilliant red stone inside. “And you have just brought us one step closer with the gift you procured.”

It was explained on the way back up the mountain that their aim was to retrieve this stone to complete the stone mask lord Kars had created with the intention of allowing them to endure sunlight. It answered several questions you had and raised a million more, but your first order of business would be to present the stone to your husband and master.

“Lord Kars, we have returned!” Esidisi announced when you entered the temple. Kars was seated on his throne, his expression unreadable. He had let down his hair from under the tight wrap and it flowed down his back in elegant black waves, as dark and infinite as the night sky.

“Did you find it, Esidisi?” he asked, his eagerness betraying his stoic facade.

“I did not,” he said. Kars’ grip on his armrest cracked the solid marble and his red eyes shone furiously in the firelight. You flinched, wanting to smack your husband for teasing like this, but you were too nervous to speak already. “Rest easy, my lord. Our beloved bride did find it,” he said, ushering you forward.

You kneeled at his feet and humbly presented the stone. Kars pulled you into his lap and smiled, a genuinely happy smile as he kissed your cheek.

“Anything in the world shall be yours, my beautiful sunshine, for it is the world you have given us tonight,” he said, kissing your lips before taking the stone to examine it more. You felt an overwhelming joy bubble up in your chest, overpowering the grief and spite that had been festering there.

Esidisi looked almost smug, smiling up at you in his master’s lap. Like he was proud of himself you were getting praised.

All until Kars took a closer look at the stone. His expression turned to an annoyed sneer, and he glared at you so sharply you just about fell off his lap.

“Is it a fake, master Kars?” Wamuu asked while Esidisi approached to help you up and assure you again that you wouldn’t be eaten.

“This stone is genuine, but it is a plain Aja, far too small to serve its purpose,” Kars answered, shutting the box with a loud clack that made you flinch. “This is what we exhausted so much energy on…” he muttered, rubbing his forehead like he was fighting off a headache.

“The night is young, lord Kars. We can renew our search for the super Aja right now if you wish?” Esidisi offered.

Kars looked at Esidisi, then down to you, his expression softening slightly.

“No, that won’t be necessary, Esidisi. In fact, I might have some use for this stone after all. You can spend the night with our bride, seeing as how you’ve dressed her for the occasion,” your master declared, his eyes roaming over your figure, taking obvious note of your ankles. He stood up and grabbed the marble armrest he’d cracked, his muscles bulging as he ripped a slab of marble clean off. He picked up the stone and then plucked your wreath from your head and turned to head back into the catacombs.

“A shame. I thought the wreath matched your anklets rather well,” Esidisi said playfully, running his fingers through your hair. You blushed, but leaned into his touch regardless.

“I put those on cause they’re pretty. Not as an invitation… Kars is scary when he’s mad. What do I do?” you asked, feeling like you might cry again. You’d done your best, and you had no idea how big the stone needed to be! It wasn’t your fault!

“He isn’t mad at you,” Wamuu assured you. “I will head out with the vampires to continue our search. We know that the red stone of Aja traveled the silk road from Asia to Rome. We’ll just have to find it.”

“He knows not to blame you for this. Lord Kars is more sensible than that. He’s frustrated, because our fight with the hamon tribe took a great deal of energy and while consuming the remaining villagers replenished some of it, we have little time before even that runs dry,” Esidisi explained, picking you up and kissing your forehead.

“What happens when it does?” you asked, the pillarmen exchanging a worried glance.

“Either we must consume what might well be an army of humans, or we must go to sleep and hopefully recover,” Esidisi explained.

“What? I-I wouldn’t argue with you consuming humans as you need, but what would be wrong with sleeping?” you asked. You hadn’t caught any of them sleeping, but you assumed they could, just like any other creature.

“When we sleep, we turn to stone and it could well be a thousand years or more before we awaken. You would not be there to greet us when we awaken,” Wamuu explained, looking down at the ground.

“How much time do you have left?” you asked, once again feeling the ring in your chest weigh heavy on your heart, but not because you were excited this time.

“About as much time as is left on your engagement ring, beloved,” Esidisi said.

Wamuu took all vampires with him, scattering them in every direction to search for information on the red stone, leaving Esidisi himself to fetch something you could actually eat while you waited in his room.

“You shouldn’t have,” you said, bashfully accepting the basket of goods he returned with, although the sight of food had your stomach painfully clenching to remind you of just how hungry you were. On your wedding day you had refused to eat, scared senseless and struggling against everything being offered to you. After your evening with Wamuu you had spent almost the entire day asleep, meaning you were going on two days without food at this point. No wonder that wine earlier got you drunk so quickly.

“I wouldn’t make you descend and climb a mountain twice on an empty stomach. It was foolish of me to have let you return without eating in the first place,” Esidisi responded, smiling as you started to dig in. The basket had fruit and bread and cured meats and cheese, and you hurriedly started popping grapes in your mouth.

“Thank you so much,” you said, holding your hand in front of your half full mouth. “Can you eat this?” you asked out of curiosity.

“I could pretend. I can appreciate the flavor, surely, but it wouldn’t sustain me,” he answered. “Your body produces its own life energy. Mine can only draw on the life energy of other living beings.”

You looked at your basket, at the cured meat inside. You thought of how many animals died every year to keep you fed. You wouldn’t eat another human, but you’d come to realize the gods you were married to didn’t kill for their own amusement or even to defend themselves. Only to eat.

And while it may have felt like cruelty, humans were simply not used to being prey. Not used to being the wary herd, stalked by ferocious predators, and knowing that their only hope was that someone either braver or weaker would be killed off first and still their hunger another night.

On the other hand, could you justify yourself standing by as an army worth of humans were turned into food? It was true he said army, but that was an awfully justifiable way of putting it. Army made it sound like a threat. Like it was kill or be killed. In reality even if they only picked off strong men, worthy of being soldiers, that would just leave an army worth of widows and children defenseless and possibly starving.

Would they even give you the antidote? You thought you’d grown closer with Wamuu and now Esidisi and Kars had chosen you himself, but you still wore the poison ring around your heart. If they were going to sleep, they wouldn’t have a reason to keep you alive either. Why would they allow their bride to run off on her own if she was going to die before they woke up again? Maybe that was the point all along. To hold the ring’s curse over your head so you wouldn't run away until they didn’t need your little mortal self anymore.

“You’re worrying about something silly,” Esidisi said, cutting through your line of thought as if he’d been reading your mind. “You have a very expressive face,” he explained.

“It’s not silly,” was the first thing out of your mouth before you thought to deny it. You probably just sounded immature. “I guess to a god being worried about dying would sound like some silly human concern…”

“You won’t die, beloved. We won’t allow it,” Esidisi answered simply.

“What about the wedding ring?” you asked, putting a hand over your heart. your husband nodded, understanding.

“You’re worried we won’t save you if we don’t find the stone in time to escape our thousand year sleep?” he asked. You nodded, putting the basket away on a side table.

Esidisi’s bedroom was larger than Wamuu’s and so was the bed you were seated on. The silk covers and furs from exotic animals in the candle light looked and felt like some kind of dream. It didn’t help the part of your brain that was whispering none of this was meant for you and like a dream it would come to an end long before you wanted it to.

“We’ll do everything we can to secure the stone first. If that fails, we can buy ourselves more time as needed,” he said, taking your hands in his. “It pains me to think you’ll live a mortal life at all. I realize by comparison it is selfish, but I wouldn’t want to wake up in a world without you in it…” he sighed, thumbs stroking over the many rings on your fingers. He didn’t suggest making you a vampire, which you were grateful for. The thought of spending centuries in the dark consuming humans while waiting for them to return made you sick to your stomach.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered. “It’s just so hard to believe when my own people didn’t want me alive… You barely know me…”

“I know enough to have fallen for you and everything I have come to learn has made me love you more,” he responded.

“I-I… Esidisi…” you whined, wanting to bury your face in your hands, but he wouldn’t let go. Your face was red. Had it been so hot in his room the whole time? Every other underground room had been so cool.

“I will have you know the extent of my adoration, my beautiful dancing flame,” he said. “If Kars won’t see reason, I will make him.”

Somehow knowing that he would disagree with Kars for your sake was a greater declaration of love than any words or gifts and you leaned in to kiss his lips.

“I love you too… I don’t want to cry anymore, please,” you said softly, burying your fingers in his soft, white hair.

“But you cried so beautifully for Wamuu last night,” he whispered. You whined and buried your face in his neck.

“You were listening?!” you asked. You thought Esidisi had been out that night.

“How could I not have heard you screaming like that? You sounded so eager. I have lived thousands of years and yet this evening has tested my patience more than centuries spent looking for the stone. Now I finally get you all to myself~” he purred, reaching over to the nightstand and pinching the candle wick between his fingers to snuff out its flame. You heard the soft sizzle of his flesh burning as he hadn’t wet his fingers to do it, but he didn’t even seem to notice. Every light that died let the shadows of the room creep closer, but you weren’t scared or even worried.

In the dark you could still sense him moving while he was so close. The soft, delicate silks of your new clothes slipped off easily and you were about to start on your jewelry, but your master really had run out of patience.

“Keep them on. You look beautiful,” he praised, pulling you in for another heated kiss. You wished you could take some of his clothes, but you had already noticed those were stitched into his skin. You did not expect him to remove his sewn on chest plate just so you could kiss and nuzzle his chest more freely, which was why the loud sound of stitches snapping surprised you.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” you asked finally.

“I hardly feel any pain at all and my body heals quickly. I rather enjoy the thrill when I do feel it. It’s exhilarating,” he explained. You were about to reach out and touch his chest when something hot and slim coiled around your wrists and pulled them back above your head. You couldn’t see what it was and the sharp tug made you help, but you knew it was just your husband, even if you couldn’t quite tell what he’d done.

“I will show you pain if you don’t stop teasing me,” you huffed, making him laugh.

“You are too adorable, trying to threaten me, my little flame,” he said through his laughing, something hot and wet dripping from the coils around your wrists, making you shiver. His hands around your waist moved and still your hands were pinned, immobile, which was frustrating, because not only could you not see your lover without his painful looking armor, you couldn’t touch him either. His fingertips felt hot, as if by remnant of the flames he extinguished between them, but by now you knew better. That heat was all his and glowed fiercely from within and you vaguely suspected he held it back some, just to touch you without hurting you when he explored your naked skin.

There was something sensual about being dressed in nothing but your jewelry before him. The bracelets entwined with the warm twine that held your arms in place. The thin strands of twinkling gold, laden with gems around your neck, resting lightly against the top of your bare breasts. The anklets you still wore, a coquettish little accessory that would have branded you a shameless whore to the humans you knew. Still your husband regarded you as a far greater treasure, stroking your thighs and kissing your neck as if he were mapping out every inch of you with his touch, even though you knew he could see you in the complete darkness.

“Please, Esidisi…” you murmured, wanting to feel his heat deep inside your core. You could already tell this would be nothing like with Wamuu. He’d been all chivalry, slowly testing the waters, infinitely patient until you gave him the all clear to have his way with you.

Esidisi was more in control, using that to his advantage to tease you mercilessly. He was taking things slow to savour you, not because he was holding anything back. His demeanor exuded a confidence and experience that made you feel safe, even if his slow pace had you craving more already.

“Please what, my darling?” he asked, pushing you down against the bed and you could feel the mattress dip where he kneeled over your small, exposed form. In the pitch black darkness you couldn’t see him right in front of you, but you felt the warmth radiating off him like a flame still. “Would you rather I take you like a beast in heat, little one? So eagerly crying for more~”

Heat was a very apt description of your current desire, in every sense of the word and he knew it. Threats and orders would make him laugh and requests would be easily overruled, but Esidisi never once denied you when you begged.

“Please, my master, my lord, my king! I need you to touch me. Make me yours. Burn me up! I need you!” you pleaded, rubbing your thighs together, only to have them roughly pried apart.

“No wonder Wamuu lost control with you so easily. With such a charming spark you possess you should be careful what you wish for,” he warned, and you could feel his breath against your labia, already anticipating what would happen next.

Knowing what would happen and being prepared for just how good it would feel were still two different things and more of the hot tendrils wrapped themselves around your legs, keeping you open and exposed while your god and master indulged in the taste of you. He worked his tongue deliberately, aiming to please in a way that told he took just as much pleasure in the act himself.

“A-Ah, yes! Oh my god… please please please don’t stop!” you pleaded, losing yourself too quickly to even try holding back your orgasm. His thumb worked your clit in slow, deliberate circles, while his tongue dipped hungrily into your wet pussy, as if craving your taste.

You came screaming, arching off the bed as far as your bonds would allow, while Esidisi continued to work you through your climax with his gentle, loving touch.

“You’re incredible, my love. I am so thankful I get to have you all to myself tonight. I can already imagine the fights over who gets to have you in their bed, our most coveted treasure,” he whispered while you caught your breath.

“Hmm… Ah, but all else being equal… won’t I get a say in that?” you asked, panting to catch your breath. The bindings around your wrists loosened and moments later you could feel his fingers pushing into your sensitive opening.

“True, true, very true,” he agreed, as his warm, battle calloused fingers explored your most sensitive spots. His heat inside was making you tremble and you almost desperately wanted more of it, despite having cum once already. “I suppose I’d better give you a reason to choose me when the time comes,” he said, rubbing insistent circles at a spot that made you whimper with need.

With your hands now free, you reached blindly into the darkness, finding his immensely broad shoulders and muscular arms. You carded your fingers through the soft white curls of his hair, pushing the fabric of his headpiece off and feeling the sharp horns he kept concealed under it.

“I-If you want to give me a reason… P-Please fuck me… I can take it already, please~” you begged. You could just make out the way his breath hitched and the sharp intake of breath before the bindings around your legs dragged you hallway into your lover’s lap and you could feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against you to replace his fingers.

“I am going to ruin you…” he growled softly, gripping your hips and slamming in deep.

You arched your back and keened, the edge of pain eased by his warmth and the pleasure of having him inside.

“What a glorious little spark you are, sweet (Y/N). Let me have you like this forever. Let me shower you with affection so that you may always wear such a lovely expression,” he murmured, kissing your lips while his hips rocked steadily with yours, his pace intensifying until the bed under you shook. It was nowhere near the feral pounding you’d enjoyed from Wamuu the previous night, but it was enough to leave you reeling regardless.

You giggled briefly, shaking your head. “I-Imagine… If I made that face at lord Kars? No… just now… just you… Esidisi~...” you responded. He chuckled and lifted you further onto his lap, holding you close while he slowed to grinding deeper inside you than you would have thought possible. It felt so incredible your eyes fluttered shut and you slumped against his rock-hard chest, finally getting to rub your face on it, though your attention was firmly drawn elsewhere.

“I imagine he’ll be inclined to make you show that face for himself soon. He’ll be as enamored with it as I am, beloved,” he said, his heat all around and deep inside you. It felt so comforting and safe in his arms, even wrecked by wave after wave of pleasure. “Still, I will cherish this moment where you are mine and mine alone~”

You were going to cum again. The pleasure like this wasn’t as overwhelming as being pounded like before, but it was constant, inescapable and so intense you could only mewl softly in agreement and try not to drool.

“So small and sensitive. You are far too tempting not to tease,” he said, still rocking into you slow and deep, letting out a deep, guttural moan when he felt you quiver and tighten around his hard cock. He didn’t stop or slow down, keeping his pace and dragging your breathtaking orgasm on into what felt like minutes.

“Ah~ S-So much… t-too much! Esidisi… Too much~!!!” you whined, weak little fingers clutching at his shoulders, digging into his skin as you braced yourself against the tidal waves of climax.

“You can endure more than you think, little one. I will show you the true heights of pleasure,” he purred, the intensity of his movements ramping up and the intensity of your never ending peak with it.

You were spilling all over his lap, crying out nonsensically while Esidisi built back up to the bed rattling rhythm from before. You’d never imagined feeling pleasure like this, dancing on the razor’s edge of pain, but never crossing it. The last part of your brain that still had any sense left wondered what love making like this could be building towards, as you were already cumming, but you could feel something building regardless.

You dimly wondered if some sort of double orgasm was possible and the thought was funny to you.

You wanted to share it, but between gasping and panting for breath and the lust clouding your mind you couldn’t get a word out.

Then you felt Esidisi slamming in hard and deep, flooding you with more of his divine warmth to the point of overflowing, and you had the answer for what could possibly beat ecstacy like you had been feeling before.

The last thing crossing your mind was complete and utter satisfaction before you completely and utterly passed out.

#jjba #esidisi #esidisi x reader #pillarmen #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #wamuu x reader #kars x reader #not sfw #chapter 2 #reader insert

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theroundbartable · 4 years

Text

Dragon Island

“Absolutely not.” Sometimes, Arthur Pendragon was not only a prat, he was a downright Clotpole. Not that Merlin ever failed to mention it.

“Arthur, I am going with you!”

“And what exactly can YOU do against dragons, Merlin? This is THE dragon Island! My father has been searching for this place for over a decade! There are rumors that there will be dragon lord's there as well! Do you even know how many knights have died since the purge started? Since my father fought these monsters and erased them from this part of the world? If we find this Island, we can end this war! But this is too dangerous for a servant. I can not waste my time consoling you, when the sea is making you sick, Merlin. I have battle strategies to discuss.”

Merlin huffed and crossed his arms. They were standing at the shore, far far away from Camelot. Uther Pendragon had a ship army remaining here in position. He regularly send out spies to find the home island of the dragon lords. Not that there were any actual dragon lords with dragon lord powers left. They were wiped out in the war. But their families remained. Those who valued their traditions and taught each other magic. But weren't the first son's and therefore had none of the abilities their kind was so proud of. But magic was another reason to have them wiped out.

About a week ago, one of Uther's spies had found a trace that lead them to an underwater cave. Barely shallow enough to have a narrow boat sail through. They had found runes engraved in the walls. And the spy was pretty ecstatic that this MUST be the entrance to the secret island.

Well... Since Arthur was the only knight known to have actually killed a dragon (which he didn't), his father found it absolutely logical to send his only son and heir on another suicide mission. Into unknown terrain, with unknown enemies and not one dragon, but a whole army of those impossible-to-kill-except-you're-a-dragon-lord creatures.

It was truly perfect. Arthur could finally proof his worth as crown prince.... again. And almost die.... again. Heroically of course. Uther was a genius.

And apparently Arthur was just as smart, because the idiot prince had decided to go on that mission WITHOUT Merlin. The only ACTUAL dragon lord left in the entire known universe. Not that they knew about that.

“Just so you know – I do NOT get sea sick. And I already know how to use the sails and stuff. Will and I often went out with the fisher of our town. Other than you who grew up in a fancy Castle with perfect temperature in every single room and hundreds of servants working for you. You may train, but you have NO idea how to deal with the weather, with the tides. You barely know how to dress yourself!”, as Merlin exclaimed the last part, he could basically feel the steam of anger from Arthur's nostrils flaring at him, while a few knights were snickering behind them.

The knights were, by the way, currently occupied readying the boat.

“Fishing on a boat and Sailing on the open sea is totally different.”, Arthur argued, causing Merlin to roll his eyes and facepalm himself. “Fisher's... sail, Sire.”, he muttered, causing Arthur to frown as if that confused him for some reason.

“I don't care. You cannot stop me. I'll come with you.”, Merlin's expression was final.

“I'm the crown prince of Camelot, Merlin. You have to do what I say.”

“I never listen to what you say. Why would I start now?”

In the end, Gwaine and Leon were ordered to drag Merlin away from the boat. All while Arthur ignored the very obvious argument (provided by Merlin and confirmed by at least two other knights), that he NEEDED Merlin. If as a servant or a navigator or maybe a warning radar for obvious danger that Arthur was certain to ignore. He NEEDED him. So, Merlin would definitely find a way.

“Hey, buddy. I gottcha.”, Gwaine winked at him, while Merlin was still trying to make up a perfect strategy, how he could sneak on the ship. Merlin blinked up at him, while Leon just rolled his eyes and pretended not to listen. “What?”, Merlin asked, confused.

“I got a few barrels of water and wine and stuff for the ride. Leon and I have already prepared an empty one for you. You get in and we'll sneak you on.” Merlin had never wanted to hug Gwaine more. “Thank you!!!!”, he beamed at them. “Wait, Leon? You're IN on the plan? You're not going to rat me out to Arthur, are you?”

Gwaine cackled. “It was HIS idea.”

“Huh?”, Merlin looked at the blond knight in confusion.

Leon was still looking away, as if embarrassed by his treason. “If you're not there, Arthur will focus all his attention on US. And I did not sign up for this.”, he was frowning. As if he was already dreading the following days.

“But... how long have I to stay in the barrel? I mean... If I step out too soon, Arthur will insist to turn around.”

“I can survive five days of Arthur being a whirlwind of emotions. You have FIVE days. Gwaine will sneak you out at night. Lancelot has agreed to help. I can distract Arthur, until you're in. Other than that, I was never involved.”, Leon was grimacing the entire time. He seemed exhausted, as if he had already had five different yet similar arguments today and wanted to throttle someone.

“Wow, thank you Leon.”, Merlin looked at him amazed. But Leon's frown only darkened. “Don't thank him.”, Gwaine whispered. “He originally asked, if we could dress you up like him, so he can stay in Camelot and have a vacation until we're back. You may not get sea sick. But HE does.”

“Why.... And he's still allowed on the ship? Wait, why don't we try that? Doesn't sound like a too bad plan. If Leon's sea sick anyway, people would leave him alone to suffer in silence, right?”

Leon sighed with exasperation. “As if that ever stopped Arthur from discussing battle strategies.”, he made a dramatic pause. “If I don't make it -”, Leon made a sound that reminded Merlin of a creaking door. “It was nice knowing you.”

“Don't be so dramatic, Leon.”, Gwaine rolled his eyes. “Honestly, what's with you? Since Uther announced this mission, you've been nothing but a drama queen.”, he scolded. Leon pouted a little. “I'm being realistic if anythikng. If the sea doesn't drown us, we don't freeze to death or a sudden storm destroys our boat, and we don't get horribly lost in that strange cave and starve to death, then we arrive on an island full of dragons who probably hate Arthur for killing the great Dragon. And being the son of a man who ordered the murder of all dragon kind. Not to mention him indirectly causing the death of the last dragon Lord as well. So we either die, or we die. I'm just planning ahead.”

“So dramatic.”, Gwaine mumbled. But Merlin frowned. Leon got a valid point.

“Be positive. What if we meet a bunch of mermaids?”, Gwaine winked at Leon. Leon frowned even further. “Which kind?” “The hot kind, duh.” “Which is?” Gwaine blinked. “Not this again. You're no fun.”

“No, no, Gwaine. Go ahead. Tell me. Which is the hot kind of mermaid? The Siren one's that lure you in with magic voices and then drown you, so they can rape your dead bodies and make more Sirenbaby's; The manatee's that only start to look appealing when you're so starved and Vitamin C deprived that you start hallucinating right before you pass out and die or the classic one's with boobs and a fish tails that make NO SENSE in their anatomy. Which I will be hearing you complain about for days. When all I want is peace and quiet.”, Leon closed his eyes – yet again- dramatically.

Gwaine was about to open his mouth to counter, when Leon added: “Also, we're knights of Camelot and mermaids are magical creatures. It's your job to kill them, regardless of how hot they seem to you.”

With that, Leon had set Gwaine's brain check mate and left him and Merlin standing there with their mouths comically wide open. Half in shock, half with laughter and amazement. “Holy shit, I think he's finally lost it.”, Gwaine laughed as he watched Leon slump down at the next tree and saying goodbye to the dry unshakable ground.

“Maybe we should ask George to come as well. Or convince Arthur to get him off the ship.”, Merlin muttered. After all, Leon was always a lot calmer when George was around. Maybe because George didn't bully him, did what he was told and was also a good person to be quiet with. George also seemed to prefer Leon as the one ordering him around, because Leon wasn't chatting endlessly. He was precise in his orders and didn't talk around the bush. They got along well. Because they didn't have to get along at all. They had the ultimate work-efficient dynamic. It was horrifying.

“Are you kidding? This will be hilarious.”, Gwaine grinned.

“Don't you think Leon deserves a break?”, Merlin asked, still startled by Leon's obvious irritation. “From work? Yes. From me? NEVER!”, Gwaine winked again. And Merlin already pitied the poor knight.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leon was indeed... sick. The moment the ships left the haven, Leon was slumped over the reeling and holding on for his life. He was suspiciously green in the face and tried to avoid Arthur. Who was continuously ignoring Leon's condition and decided to ask him for how many days they had planned to be on sea. How many weapons they had and discussed whether or not they were actually suitable to kill dragons. And if there was enough food and water and so on and so forth.

He did not realize that the barrel Gwaine had decided to sit on had a few holes in it, that should not be there, were wine in it. Gwaine was chatting with Lancelot and occasionally Merlin, albeit in third person like... “I wonder what Merlin would think of this.”, and then get a hushed answer from underneath him.

The sea was relatively calm for the first three days. And Elyan, who was assigned to steer the ship, had no trouble finding the right path. Arthur seemed content too and left Leon alone on day two.

Leon was hardly eating. And if he ever did, he puked it out ten minutes later. By the third day, he was leaning against the reeling once again. Eyes closed with an obvious headache and ready to drink poison to free him from his misery.

Merlin was still sitting inside the barrel. Except for at night, when Lancelot would let him out, while Gwaine annoyed the prince. It worked surprisingly well. Yet, Merlin was a bit worried. Not necessarily to be found out. That was kind of part of the plan. No... By the way Arthur behaved.

The first two days, it was hardly noticeable. Arthur had focused on talking to Leon. Or Elyan or Gwaine and Lancelot. But after they had run out of conversational topic, Arthur had started to isolate himself. Merlin could see him through the holes of his hiding place. He was often standing at the reeling and staring out towards the horizon. He was eerily quiet. And appeared to be melancholic. If not slightly sad.

“Hey, Merlin.”, Lancelot whispered at an afternoon on day four. Merlin was still shocked that his disguise had apparently worked well so far. Then again, Arthur was terrifyingly oblivious to most of his secrets. “Can't you like... use magic to heal Leon's sickness?”

Of course. If anyone had it bad these days it was Sir Leon. Gwaine was currently occupied with drinking. Otherwise Lancelot would not have dared mention Merlin's illegal existence to him. “Do you think that's wise? What if they all notice? After all, Leon has been sick for three days now. If he was suddenly fine, wouldn't they ask?”

“And you think they'd explain it with magic? Merlin. Leon could have just gotten used to the sea. I'm sure no one will notice.”

“Are you sure?”, Merlin asked back and tried to focus on Leon's pitiful form. “I'm positive. Even if they think it's magic, they don't even know you're here. And what sorcerer would just appear on this ship, just to heal Leon?” “Good point.”

Merlin took a shuddering breath, as he strained himself to look through the barrel once again. Leon had his eyes closed and he was breathing harshly. Arthur was standing right next to him. Deep in thought. As if on cue, he suddenly straightened up, pushed himself from the reeling and went under deck.

Merlin nodded to himself. And then whispered a silent spell in Leon's reaction. There was a flash of gold for barely a second. But in that moment, Leon opened his eyes and looked at Merlin. Merlin froze. They locked eyes. Merlin caught his breath. “Lancelot. I think he saw.”, Merlin muttered, panic was slowly sinking in, along with the realization of the situation. Lancelot frowned. “What?”, he asked. “Lance, I think he knows.” “Merlin, stop mumbling. I'm certain you're imagining things.”

Leon's eyes flickered shut for a second and he took a deep breath. Then he held his head in slight irritation, before looking in Merlin's direction again. He ….. sighed in relieve. Slowly, he pushed himself up. Still holding his head, as he took a deep breath. He nodded at Merlin. Like he was... thanking him? Was Merlin really imagining this? But Leon smiled, stretched himself and rubbed at the dark circles under his sleepless eyes. As if to say: “finally.”

Soon enough, he was gone as well. Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but shook his head to himself, while Lancelot had a firm hand on his barrel.

---------------------------------------

It was night, when Merlin was finally let out of his barrel. The knights were asleep. All but the one on watch. Which was Gwaine, fortunately. Meaning, Merlin could safely leave the barrel, chat with him and eat in peace. He had slept through the day mostly. He trusted that Lancelot and Gwaine would stop anyone from opening this particular barrel during the day.

And if anyone got to close, he could always hear one of them say, this was the “victory wine.” Like this was the finest wine of them all and reserved for the day they managed to defeat the dragon lords. It was a good excuse. Albeit difficult to maintain, because nobody believed Gwaine could hold himself back from wine for that long.

Either way, for now it was fine. Merlin's legs were dangling off the watch tower, while Gwaine leaned against the rod behind him. The sails were up, because the wind was in their favor.

It was then, that suddenly, someone crawled up from under deck.

Even in the dim moonlight, Merlin could make out the shine of Arthur's armor. Everyone had already told him, wearing armor on a boat was absolutely insane. If he ever fell off the boat, he'd drown immediately. Because the weight would just drag him down. But the clotpole was too stubborn to listen. And right now it was as useful as a warning signal to them. 'Why is he up?', was all Merlin could think, as he nearly shrieked through Gwaine's mindless chatter and hid underneath a blanket that lay around behind them. Gwaine, surprised at his reaction, finally noticed the prince as well and waved at him, while Arthur gave him a startled expression. Merlin could have kicked Gwaine for drawing Arthur's attention to them.

“Gwaine? What are you doing?”

Gwaine rose both his eyebrows in amusement. “Oh, I'm on watch. You know. Talking to myself. Looking at the stars. Nice weather out, don't you think?”, he laughed suspiciously.

Arthur frowned and sighed, before climbing up the ladder with a sigh. He shook his head, as if used to these antics and hardly caring for them at all. Merlin hurried to shuffle behind Gwaine, so that Arthur wouldn't notice him. And Gwaine did his best to position himself in a way that Merlin was mostly covered by his frame. In a practiced manner, Merlin steeled his heart and his breathing and went completely still. A method he had accustomed to during his time out in the barrel.

By the time Arthur got up to them, Merlin might as well have vanished. That's how invisible he was. Though, to himself, he felt extremely obvious.

“So, er... Sire. Can't sleep?”, Gwaine asked. It was pretty late. Too late to still be up. Too early to have woken up again. Gwaine pat the ground beside him, so Arthur could sit down. It would be suspicious if he send him away. But Merlin was certain Gwaine did it to taunt him. “Not really.”, Arthur said and yawned. If Merlin could see through the blanket, he would see that the circles under Arthur's eyes were nearly as dark as Leon's had been.

His voice didn't really leave room for conversation. He sounded tired, as if he really didn't want to talk. And despite Gwaine's usual annoyance, he didn't press the matter. He hummed instead. For one, because it was Gwaine. Who would he be, if he wasn't drinking ale and doing noisy things all the time? However, this also served the purpose of covering up all unintentional noises Merlin could have made in the dead silence of the still night. It was too still. But they weren't used to the ever changing weather of the sea. Else, they would have been alarmed.

“It's funny.”, Arthur said after a moment of hummed silence. “What is, Sire?” “I would have thought Merlin would have sneaked on to the ship and come out by now.”

Gwaine laughed comically. Startled by the sudden comment. Arthur ignored him, but Merlin nearly smacked Gwaine for that obvious reaction.

“Well. That surely sounds like Merlin. But we would have found him in no time.”, Gwaine assured him.

“Yeah I know. Still.”, Arthur sighed and shook his head, before running a hand through his face. “I mean... Now that he's not here, I can't stop thinking that I basically left him alone with my father. You know my father. If Merlin doesn't behave, the king will certainly have him flogged. Or worse. I mean... he has these moments when he accuses random people to be sorcerers. What if I left him to one of those antics? Did I make a mistake leaving him home?”

Arthur sounded worried and he was suddenly found playing with his own hands.

Gwaine opened his mouth in surprise. “Huh?”, he asked. “I thought you didn't want him to come? ”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “He's still saver with my father than he is raiding a dragon infested island with us, isn't he?” That was.... an actual question. Not a rhetoric one, like one would expect. No. Arthur was seriously asking. His tone was probably supposed to be rhetoric, but he sounded too emotional. Too concerned. Too guilty.

Gwaine's mouth dropped open. Merlin's heart stilled. “Since when are you so worried about Merlin?”, Gwaine asked and sat up straight. After all... Arthur had never really shown his emotional side to Gwaine. Not like this. Not verbally. There would be lots of teasing, surely. Later on, of course. And Arthur should know that. But Arthur was sleep deprived and concerned and he needed to vent. That may not be wise. But since when do people do reasonable things?

“I'm not worried.”, Arthur denied immediately. Gwaine raised an eyebrow. Which Arthur noticed. “Look -”, Arthur started. “I couldn't take Merlin with us on this trip. Merlin is a servant and he's always unarmed-”

“That never stopped you from taking him on hunts.”, Gwaine raised both eyebrows now.

Arthur groaned. “That's different. We're knights. We can protect him from bandits. Dragon's are.... a whole different story. I faced one and I passed out and I still don't know HOW we survived. I know I killed it, but it was incredibly close. And this mission... I'm not sure we'll make it.”, Arthur let his head sink.

Gwaine paused for a moment. “Wait... you think we'll all die?”, he asked, eyes wide and suddenly terrified. “Of course not.”, Arthur said absently. But it was clearly a lie. “Jesus. You're in a good mood.”, Gwaine mumbled to himself. For the first time, he sounded worried too.

“So... you left Merlin in Camelot because -”

“I don't want him to die.”, Arthur confessed. Albeit reluctantly. “But … you said you thought he'd be here?”, Gwaine pointed out. Arthur breathed. Then he turned to look at Gwaine. “Is it selfish to wish he had ignored my orders?”

Gwaine blinked. “Huh?” To be fair, he had wanted to tease Arthur about the fact that nothing Arthur just said opposed the idea that he was – indeed – worried about Merlin in any way. But that last comment confused him and changed the focus of this conversation.

“I don't want him to die with us. But -”, Arthur bit his lip. “If I die, I'd rather die at his side. Is that weird?”

Gwaine glanced at the blanket, where Merlin strained his ears to hear every word Arthur was saying. Merlin's breathing was getting rigid. This conversation.... was unusual. Very... unusual for Arthur.

Gwaine blinked, then he forced himself to grin and make a more joyous expression. As he always did. Because positive energy was his thing. “Now now, princess.”, he put an arm around Arthur shoulder, which Arthur let him do with a disapproving frown. “Sounds like someone here got a small crush on our dear Merlin.”

Merlin fought the urge to kick him yet again, worried that this would reveal him from underneath the blanket. Gwaine was clearly overdoing it. He was clearly out to annoy Arthur. Merlin knew that. And he really wanted Gwaine to stop. This was humiliating and mean.

Arthur stared at Gwaine. At the laughing face. The poking and joking and attempt at humiliating him expression. But Arthur's stare didn't waver. And Gwaine's expression lost itself on the realization that he actually hit a mark.

“Wait – seriously?”, he asked and pulled his arm back. Merlin behind him froze. Merlin's inner turmoil was at Gwaine's antics. He had been so focused on cursing Gwaine, that he was completely startled by that sentence. He had not expected for Arthur to just.... not deny it. Which was basically a confession. Merlin's eyes widened. And he stared at the blindness in front of him. Once again, he was completely still. 'Huh?', he thought.

“You think it's weird.”, Arthur turned away, still fumbling with his hands. And had the little snide remark from Gwaine not been, maybe they could have pretended this sentence didn't mean so much. That this was simply about hoping his friend was here. That they just continued their conversation from before, without the additional information that Arthur – indeed – liked Merlin more than he ought to.

“I- what? No!”, Gwaine was quick to retaliate. “Of course not. I'm just surprised, is all. I mean... it's Merlin.”

“And?”, Arthur was frowning. As if ready to defend his friend. Which in itself was news to Merlin. Since when did Arthur defend him behind his back? Either way, this was Merlin they were talking about. And it was Gwaine he was talking about him with. There was no need to get defensive. “I didn't think you'd admit it! Especially to me.” The 'everyone loves Merlin, so of course I'm not surprised' was left unsaid. Needless to say. It was only Merlin who didn't recognize that implication.

Arthur let his shoulders slump. “Yeah well. If we're dying anyway, even you teasing me and telling everyone can't make it worse.”

“First of all. Rude. You underestimate me, Sire. You have no idea what I'm capable of. Second of all. Why are you all so dramatic these days? First Leon, now you? We haven't even arrived at the island yet and you're all planning our funerals! Who is to say we even find the island? Or the dragons?”, Gwaine flailed his arms, before putting a soft hand on Arthur's tense shoulders. His tone turned soft. Very unlike Gwaine. But it was not the first time he had worn that expression. He'd acted like this before. Tender and soft and fond. Mostly for Merlin, because Merlin was his first and therefore best friend. And he worried about him too. “And last, but not least. You'll see Merlin again, Sire. And even if he found out, he wouldn't tease you for this. Merlin has a good heart.”

Arthur looked up. Surprised by the comforting tone of Gwaine's voice. After all, Gwaine was not exactly the go to type, when it came down to emotions.

People often underestimate the clown friend. Radiating joy and fun doesn't always come from ignorance and obliviousness. It doesn't always mean they are secretly depressed either. Often, these kind of people have gone through much more than they let on. Often, they have learned to deal with their own emotions and come to the conclusion that having fun, being truly blissful brightens not only the world of others. It brightens their own as well. That doesn't make them less empathetic. It doesn't make them less understanding. Quite the contrary. They have a deep understanding of such situations and decided not to take it seriously. Because not everything has to be. And sometimes it's smarter not to think about stuff too deeply.

“You think?” Arthur's own voice was strangely hopeful. Like knowing he'd see Merlin again was all that mattered. Like the other comfort about surviving wasn't nearly as helpful. Or dare say, important.

“I'm certain.”, Gwaine grinned knowingly. Arthur smiled in relief at that. There was a pause between them, before Arthur added. “If you ever tell him about this conversation, I'll drown you in the ocean.”

Gwaine laughed at that. “No promises, princess.” Truth is, he could. He could easily promise it. But he wouldn't be Gwaine if he said that. It would be too obvious that he was hiding something as well. Arthur laughed.

“Nuts?”, Gwaine asked, suddenly and held out a can full of salted nuts. Startled by the question, Arthur almost bend over from laughing. “You're unbelievable.”, Arthur shook his head. Suddenly embarrassed that he confessed all this to Gwaine. But he accepted the nuts anyway.

The rest of the night was spend almost quietly. Which wasn't for long and Gwaine did his best to just distract Arthur. Which meant, it was just Gwaine and Arthur chatting about Merlin. It was mostly Gwaine. Because Gwaine's mindless babbling often meant talking positively about Arthur's servant. Arthur was already used to this.

For once though, Arthur was just as deeply into the conversation. “I think, if Merlin was here, he'd feel guilty.”

“Why is that?”, Gwaine asked, encouraging Arthur to continue. He barely concealed his grin, because Merlin was witness to all of this. Unable to move which would lead to exposure.

“Well... the last dragon lord died for him. And now we're visiting the last remains of his culture. Even if they have magic. I can't imagine Merlin be anything but devastated, when he meets them. I suppose the idiot would apologize to them. Like it was in any way his fault! Merlin can be such an idiot sometimes. One would think he wants to die, so often as he drinks poison for others or jumps into mid battle, unarmed. I'm honestly glad he has the decency to hide most of the time, while we handle things. I don't think I'd be able to concentrate on fighting, if he just -”, Arthur exhaled a deep breath and flailed his arms to imply Merlin running into knifes. “He's too brave for his own good.”

“Merlin is the bravest.”

“The bravest man I ever met.”, Arthur agreed and got a chuckled clap on his shoulder for that. “Look at you, Sire. Saying all these nice things about Merlin. Wait till I tell him about it.”

Arthur immediately recoiled. “Seriously, don't.”

“Why? What's so bad about him knowing that you care?”, Gwaine frowned in amusement. Thinking, that Arthur was just shy.

“He knows that I care. I'm pretty damn obvious about it. No need to put any more attention to it.”

Gwaine scoffed in disbelieve. “YOU? Obvious that you CARE? Really? This is what you call obvious?”

“What do you mean?”, Arthur frowned, honestly confused, while Merlin was trying to breathe even slower. Because somehow Arthur had shifted closer to the blanket. A hand was put on it. If Arthur himself made the wrong move, he'd accidentally pull the blanket off of him.

“Arthur. I don't think Merlin even knows you appreciate him at all.”

Arthur was stunned with silence. “You're joking.” Merlin blinked underneath the blanket. Just what on earth was Arthur talking about?

Gwaine stared at him. “Sire... what exactly do you understand about being obvious about this?”

Arthur frowned. “Well... Erm. I'm the prince of Camelot. My father has never allowed me to have friends that are not royal enough to be of knightly status. Merlin is a servant. Yet, he's my best friend.”

Gwaine stared back at him. “Have you told him that?”

Arthur blinked. “No... because my father would ground me, if I ever did. But I have...”, he slowly swayed to the side, searching for the right words. “I treat him like a knight. I take him on hunts where servants are not allowed. I used to punch him, too, like I would a knight, to cheer him up. Though I stopped that, because he said he doesn't like it. And I mean... I stopped. I wouldn't do that for just anyone!

My guards have been ordered to let him into my room, even if I ordered them to let no one in. If I don't want him around, I have to tell them that specially. I er... let him steal my food. He loves blackberries. So do I, but he doesn't need to know that.

He's always insulting me or my father behind his back, but I don't really throw him in the stocks for that. Which I should. That kind of talk is treason. He could be hanged for that, you know?

I give him unnecessary chores, just so he has a reason to hang out with me. And he doesn't get punished, though what he does is a really shabby job. Now that I think about it, I think I mostly pay him for insulting me.

I've defended him in front of my father. I have used my word as knight for him more than once. I have trusted him with my life and drank poison because he told me it was a good idea. Or because the choice was either him or myself. And I trusted him with the antidote or with taking my royal seal back to Camelot to whoever I want to precede me. I have saved his life and protected him in battle...”, at this point, Arthur was counting on his fingers and it looked like he was about to go on for hours.

However, Gwaine looked at him oddly, which made Arthur pause as soon as he noticed. “What?”, he asked, clearly confused with Gwaine's reaction.

“Well... just. I see what you mean.”, Gwaine was talking slowly. Realizing that yes... from Arthur's point of view, all of that was actually extraordinary behavior. But for anyone else... “But you do realize that most of that is just... Look. The things you describe...

Half of the stuff happens behind his back, which you don't tell him. So how would he know? Other stuff is like.... Merlin probably thinks he's just stealing your stuff. Defending someone innocent is not something you do for someone you like. It's something you do for strangers, if their life depends on it. It's something Merlin himself would do for anyone.

And... treating him like a person when he argues with you and taking him seriously is hardly an expression of love, Arthur. I know in your position that's different. But to anyone else. Jesus christ, how do I put this?

The only extraordinary thing about all this, is you risking your life for him. Which he would do for you – for anyone really – without even thinking. And YOU would die for your own people too. I hardly think he sees a difference in your behavior towards him and your general behavior to your people.

Merlin would risk his life for anyone. He doesn't even demand thanks for it.

What you do, is... for a prince.... extremely … er... let's say affectionate. But for Merlin, it's... how do I put it … less than the minimum.”

Arthur blinked. Finally Merlin shifted underneath the blanket. His eyes blinking rapidly now. Gwaine was right. This WAS how he saw things. But the way Arthur described the way he acted.... that wasn't just Arthur trying his best to be a good prince or person. This was Arthur trying his hardest to show he cared! Cared for Merlin! Merlin felt... touched? Kind of. The crush thing aside. That was a whole different level of work in process. (1) He felt his own face heat up with the knowledge that these things... These things that Merlin had guessed were normal for Arthur... that Arthur had done them on purpose. That he had actually thought about Merlin to make sure he was cared for. That this was a far as he could push himself and did it despite the risk of being scolded by his father.

Arthur's mouth was open now. Unable to retort or add on to his previous examples. “But -”

“You do know, Merlin still doesn't believe us, when we tell him that you risked your life getting him a flower, because he thinks we're messing with him, right?”

“That's ridiculous. That flower was needed for an antidote! What is there to doubt about it?”, Arthur exclaimed, almost furious. Merlin shuddered in surprise. 'Huh?', he thought to himself, his face flushing hard.

“Yeah. I know. He does not.”, Gwaine nodded eagerly.

“But... I thought I was so obvious? I mean... Even my father noticed! He's told me I was getting too close to Merlin. So I tried to hold back, but... I thought Merlin knew.”, Arthur appeared shocked. Like someone had just turned his entire world upside down.

“The king noticed?”, Gwaine raised both eyebrows in shock.

“Yes, I mean. When I came back with that flower, he threw me in the dungeons for it. He keeps reminding me that I'm not supposed to be friends with Merlin. He keeps offering me new servants! I've turned down five offers last week!”

Gwaine's mouth dropped open. “Woow.”, he made impressed. “If Uther thinks THAT's a lot. What kind of childhood did you have?”

Arthur looked up, surprised. “I dunno? A normal one I guess? I mean. I didn't have a mom and my father was always busy and Morgana and I were fighting all the time, so....”

Gwaine's eyes squished a little. “Have you ever even been hugged?”, he asked with suspicion.

Arthur straightened his back. “I'm.... not supposed to get close to people until I get married.”, he muttered. Gwaine stared and his mouth dropped open again. “I meant Uther. Did you father never hug you?”

“Was he supposed to do that?”

Gwaine's jaw dropped. “And here I always thought you just were a stuck up royal like anyone else. But your father abandoned you. No wonder you have no idea how to deal with emotions.” Arthur flushed and tried to retort, but then he closed his mouth. Embarrassed.

Gwaine hurried to correct himself. “I mean... considering all this, you're doing a lot, actually. You're a good man, Arthur. I wouldn't be your knight, if I didn't think you were worth dying for. Just. God damn it, I'm getting so mad right now. Your father is an asshole. I mean, I already knew that. But holy shit.”

Arthur frowned. “Don't talk about my father like this!”, he growled, but Gwaine stopped him again. “Nope. You don't get to decide that. You're in denial. He abandoned you. He keeps sending you on quests that could get you killed. He didn't even show you that he cares if you come back!”

“He cried when he thought I was dead though!”, Arthur commented, remembering the troll Catrina accident.

Gwaine blinked. “Good to know where he draws the line. What the fuck, Arthur.”

Arthur bit his lips. He felt defensive for his father. But... wasn't it bad... that he couldn't see a single flaw in Gwaine's accusation?

“Merlin is your exact opposite, you know.”, Gwaine suddenly said and slowly patted Arthur's shoulder. This time highly aware of the fact that this was probably the closest contact Arthur allowed for anyone. Apart from the fact that Arthur had a crush on Merlin and Merlin was the guy who dressed him.... Let's not get into that.

“I know.”

“He grew up with a mom who hugged him every day. Arthur, Merlin is the most affectionate person I know. He's extremely emotional and he's not afraid to show it.”

“I know.”, Arthur said again, but this time softer.

“Compared to that your way of dealing with things probably looks more like you're pushing him away.”

Arthur's head sank and his shoulders dropped. He grabbed the blanket tighter. “I know.”, he said yet again. Frustrated this time. 'I'm trying.', he didn't say, but they all knew it.

“You should talk to him.”

“I know.”, Arthur was defeated.

It was quiet between them once again and Arthur stared out on the sea. And from the distance, you could see the first sun rays of the day illuminate the wooden deck of the ship. Arthur stared at it, as long as it was possible to look into the direction. While Gwaine watched him with worry. Gwaine had almost forgotten Merlin was still there. Merlin, who was trying his hardest to appear invisible. And quiet. And still. Nobody could hear his loud heart beat, but Merlin himself. Though he could swear someone had to notice at some point.

“Rise and shine.”, Arthur suddenly said and smiled to himself. For the first time, the conversation went beyond Gwaine's understanding and he could just stare at him in confusion.

But Merlin could hear what Arthur was actually saying. It was the sentence Merlin always woke Arthur up with. In this context, it meant, Arthur was thinking of that. Of early mornings and Merlin in it. The way his smile slowly fell, Merlin could feel that Arthur was actually missing him. And hoping he was here. Unaware that his wish had already come true.

It took Merlin everything he had in himself, to not jump up from underneath the blanket and just hug him to death. Which he now knew would equal a marriage proposal to Arthur. Oh god, all those love potion incidents …. where Arthur hugged and kissed random women. The boy must have had a mental breakdown afterwards. Now that Merlin thought of it, Arthur used to behave really strange after those incidents.

Meaning, he wouldn't talk to anyone. He would excuse himself a lot. Would be anxious around everyone he was forced to talk to. And he'd be especially awkward around Merlin. Merlin's eyes widened once again with a start and it paralyzed him as he realized precisely WHY that had been. He flushed. And he was glad Arthur couldn't see him like this.

“Sire?”, Gwaine finally asked, still uncharacteristically gentle. Arthur shook his head. “Nothing. I'll go back to sleep. Leon should be up soon. I think he's already feeling much better.” Arthur sighed and pushed himself up. He let go of the blanket, making Merlin exhale a deep breath. Then he took the ladder down again.

One last time, he was stopped by Gwaine. “Wait, Arthur.”

Arthur stopped for a moment. “What is it?”, he asked.

“You like Merlin right? As in, you're in love with him.”

Arthur flushed, but he answered with a hesitant “yes.”. Which was like a major blow in Merlin's guts. Because being in love was an entirely different thing than having a crush. And yet, to have this confirmed... Merlin struggled to breathe.

“What will you do, if he doesn't like you back?”

There was a pause. A heavy one. Then Arthur sighed. “Gwaine... It's not like anything can happen between us anyway. Even if Merlin did like me back. I can't tell him. Merlin is the best friend I have. I couldn't bear to loose him. I won't let anything or anyone, not my father, not a potential wife, not even my own feelings get in the way of that. I won't ruin what we have. I couldn't live with myself.” And with that, he disappeared under deck. Leaving Gwaine behind, completely stunned.

Finally, Merlin pulled the blanket off of himself and dramatically breathed the fresh air around him. It had started to get really stuffy under that.

Gwaine turned around, almost startled. As if he had truly forgotten that Merlin had been there. They looked at each other for a moment. Unsure what to say.

--------------------------------------------

The storm hit the boat without any warning. Maybe, if they had known about the “calm before the storm”, they would have noticed that there was – indeed – a warning. But they didn't. Because Uther didn't care that these knights had no idea about sailing. Or rather, most of them. The one's who did know about it, had been asleep, as Arthur had assigned none of them to keep watch.

They were lucky they made it in time to get the sails in. But as soon as the storm was raging, they had to hold on to everything for dear life. They had no time to fixate any of their belongings to the ship. Which meant that now, barrels and bottles and cups and knifes and anything they had lying about, was now thrown around their ears.

Those who had the great misfortune to get knocked out by a barrel, got thrown of the ship. But through all that, you couldn't hear the screams and the shouts. The storm was so loud, it deafened everything that was further than two steps away.

In a strange way, the storm came over them silently. Merlin had never managed to get back into his barrel. But he had shushed Gwaine to bind himself to the watchtower. The entire thing was about to be blown off, was it not for Merlin's magic.

In fact, while Gwaine closed his eyes, praying the storm to be over, Merlin used his magic to keep his friends safe. Albeit, there were too many of them. He couldn't safe everyone. But he DID manage to keep Arthur safe. Who was running around in that blasted armor and shouting orders to his subordinates. He was not lucky to be okay. He was lucky to have Merlin to keep him that way.

That was, until Merlin saw his own barrel being thrown off the ship. And Lancelot saw it. But Lancelot didn't know Merlin wasn't in there. Oh fucking hell no.

Lancelot screamed his name. And he managed to shout so loud, that Arthur turned around, totally confused why one of his knights would shout out the name of his servant in the middle of a storm. But Arthur, foolish, kind, love deprived Arthur, made the connection. And when Lancelot shouted at him to explain that Merlin was supposed to be IN that barrel that was now about to drown on the ocean. Arthur did the most foolish thing a prince could do.

He gave Leon the authority.... and – in a panic- jumped after Merlin.

Who was not in that barrel, but on the watch tower. Who watched and stared and couldn't believe what he saw. Because Arthur had just JUMPED of the ship for him. Fully armed with his sword and knife and wearing armor.

'That fucking idiot.”, Merlin mouthed and now panic washed over him as well. In a moment decision, Merlin yelled at Gwaine to stay where he was. And then he slid down the ladder. Not even bothering to use the steps. His hands already burned from the heat of the fraction. And splinters of the cold wood edged into his skin. But he didn't give a damn.

He ran over the deck, seeing panicked and confused faces everywhere and then he directly jumped after Arthur.

The storm wouldn't stop for another five hours. Thanks to Merlin, the casualties were little to none. But even after the storm had calmed and the sea lay still around them, while the knights tried to catch their breath.... Merlin and Arthur could not be found among the wrecks. And Leon's headache was returning. (1) The sentence: work in process is a mix of work in progress and processing something. I found that creative. It’s intentional :)

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#merlin tv #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #fanfiction #my writing #I'll try to post here too now #dragon island #chapter 1 #The calm before the storm #merthur #merlin #arthur #freya #edit later

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minniewoos · 5 years

Text

Amortentia ➣ Hwang Hyunjin Pt.1

Genre: hogwarts au, slytherin!Hyunjin, fluff, angst, bestfriend!Seungmin

Pairing: hyunjin x reader

Word Count: 12,932

Summary: Hyunjin was conceived under the effects of a love potion, making it impossible for him to experience love. But you try your hardest anyway. And you kinda succeed.

part 1➣part 2 ➣part 3

"And the final curious potion we will be introducing today, last but not least, is Amortentia." Your potions professor announced. Professor Lee always had a bounce in his step and a delighted grin whenever he taught. Anyone who saw him could tell that potions were his passion. And today's lesson was no different; the smile on his pudgy face was more full than usual today. And you weren't sure why. But he continued dutifully with his teachings.

"I'm sure most of you already know what this little concoction is, it's quite famous amongst kids your age." He chipped, but then held his pointer finger up and towards the small group of students in front of him. He warned, "But don't even think about using it. This potion is considered highly dangerous and very powerful. It does not create genuine love, that is impossible to achieve by means of magic. Just an intense obsession. Understand?"

You heard a few peers around you sigh in disappointment. And you weren't very surprised since you always heard gossip through the grapevine. Stories about your classmates and their romantic struggles. And like your professor said, this potion was very popular. Everyone wants easy love, a perfect romance. You even thought about using it once or twice when you were younger; probably in year two or three. You shake your head at yourself, those days of pining after that certain person were behind you. At least, the childish thoughts of using magic to do that.

"Of course, I'm sure most of you are wise enough not to do that. I expect great things from you bunch, this is an advanced potion class. I see greatness in each one of you." Your professor smiled once again as his eyes landed on every one of you and your classmates. It was a mixed class as well; it had some students from each house attending it. Which was a change from the usual one or two houses per class, but you like it, you didn't interact as much with the other houses as you would've liked to.

"Would anyone like to tell me what they know about Amortentia before we begin?" Professor Lee let the question hang in the air, receiving only silence. His smile dropped for a moment, but it was up once more when he spotted somebody raised their hand. He nodded and pointed towards the owner of the raised hand, "Yes, Seungmin, go ahead."

“It’s complicated to brew, and it makes the person it’s used on have an extreme obsession.” Seungmin said, very interested in today’s lesson, “The smells also different for everybody; it smells like the three things people love the most.”

“That is correct! Five points for Ravenclaw.” Your professor chirped happily. “At the end of class, if anyone wishes, they may take a whiff of Amortentia if they’re curious about the smell.”

You smiled as well, and discreetly fist-bumped Seungmin for the extra points for your house. In your mind, he was always a good kid, if not a little odd sometimes. For the rest of the class, your professor spoke animatedly about Amortentia and went over its painful brewing procedure. You listened, well, you tried to. Looking to the brewing procedure is tedious and quite a bore, especially for such a long and precise potion like Amortentia. So, your thoughts wandered a bit, but you got the gist of what you needed to know about Amortentia. And if you had questions, the textbook was there for a reason. Instead, you were curious about what Amortentia smelled like for you; perhaps it would be your favorite coffee or tea, or maybe a particular food. What did Seungmin smell? Or the professor? You scanned the room, curious as to what the others would smell in the Amortentia.

There were pretty rowdy Gryffindors like Han Jisung or Shin Ryujin. But there was a certain Slytherin you were especially curious about. Eyes trained on Hwang Hyunjin, you concentrated as you tried to think. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you thought about what he would even smell, he was unpredictable, really. Nobody was really close to the aloof Slytherin, but he got along really well with everyone. He wasn’t cruel or stuck up despite the Slytherin stereotype, but he wasn’t friendly either. Hyunjin never stuck to people that well, it was as if he wasn't interested enough to care. On the other hand, people stuck to Hyunjin like glue; you weren't exactly sure why. So it confused you, why care so much about a guy who doesn't do the same? Perhaps it was because of his charm, the few times you spoke to him were very pleasant; it helped that he was a solid ten in looks. Nonetheless, there was something off about him that you couldn't figure out. Hyunjin was indeed a mystery.

“Hey, pay attention.” Seungmin jabbed at your side, effectively derailing your train of thought. “If we’re gonna be partners again, it’s not going to be like last time.”

You rolled your eyes, “Come on Minnie, it wasn’t that bad. Okay?”

He frowned, “Says you, the potion didn’t blow up right in your eyes.”

“Sorry?” You shrugged with a shy smile, feeling a little guilty about the potion incident. Seungmin went blind for a whole hour.

“You better be.” Seungmin turned his focus back into taking his notes. How diligent.

You pouted and leaned onto the desk, your chin resting in the palm of your hand. You muttered sourly, “That sounds like a threat.”

“That’s because it is.”

The class period reached its end quickly, and your mood was instantly lifted. While you enjoy the advanced potions class, it has a knack for putting you to sleep. You were a pretty lazy Ravenclaw.

“Remember class, I will offer you extra credit for this lesson! If you’re interested just sign this parchment before you leave the room, this is your last day to do this before I begin planning the extra credit.” Your professor reminded everyone one last time before dismissing the class.

The small class began to file out of the room, most of them gathering around the table with the vials of potions lined upon them. All the potions the professor went over today were interesting and very advanced. It was predictable which one people flocked towards first. Amortentia.

Chatter filled the air as you heard excited quips of what they smelled; others who were less interested simply left the room.

Seungmin was one of those people about to leave the room, completely ignoring the potions. But you clutched his arm and yanked him towards the table. He yelped in surprise before giving you an ugly look.

"Don't act like you aren’t curious about what you smell." You crossed your arms, standing in front of the table. The small crowd already began dispersing.

"I will act like it because I don’t." Seungmin sighed, then began to leave the room once more. "I'll meet you outside after you're finished."

Lips pursed in a frown, what a downer. You weren't sure what his problem was today, his mood seemed to drop mid-lesson. But ignoring Seungmin’s attitude, you faced the little vial of Amortentia. Little spiraling wisps rose from the vial, dissipating by the time it reached the height of your eyes. Already a little excited, you leaned down and took a whiff.

You smelled everything right away, each scent from the potion was strong and distinct. The corners of your lips tipped up.

Old books, and you knew exactly why. The Ravenclaw common room was absolutely filled with ancient books from top to bottom, and it showed. Bookcases were full of leather-bound books and rolled-up scrolls. The scent was faint but immediately noticeable, old and musty, but endearing to you. Ravenclaw pride bubbled up in your chest.

Then there was a sort of citrusy smell, it was oranges. Other than the fact that they smell good, they were always in season for you. Ever since the first day you sat down at the Ravenclaw table and the feast appeared in front of you, you adored Hogwarts’ oranges. It was the first thing you tried out of the feast, and the taste stuck with you. You’ll eat one whenever you have the chance.

Jasmine. The last scent was jasmine, and while you vividly recognize the smell, you were confused as to why you smelled it. There were no prominent memories associated with jasmine other than it just smelling very good. And despite your confusion around it, it was easily the most potent smell among the three. You stared intensely at the vial, trying to focus on the jasmine scent; it was possible a memory or feeling would come to you. But alas, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Deciding to give up, you took a step away and just admired the potion for a moment. It was lovely, a light blue color with a sleek sheen to it and spiraling steam. No one would be able to tell what powerful properties it would have. You sigh before you noticed most others have left the class already to carry on their schedule. All except for one.

You were surprised to see Hyunjin standing in front of you on the opposite side of the table. He was glaring down at the potion, a confused and annoyed expression creased his face. Frowning, you wondered what he smelled to possibly cause such an irate reaction from the boy. Unsure of whether it was appropriate to ask, you just stared at Hyunjin’s concentrated expression. But as usual, curiosity got the better of you and decided you wanted to know why he seemed so annoyed. Hesitantly, you got his attention and waved a hand.

“Hey Hyunjin, what do you smell?” You leaned over to match his line of sight, with an awkward little smile to seem friendly. You gulped nervously after Hyunjin’s irritated gaze flicked to look you directly in your eyes.

“What do you smell?” He responded to your question with a question. You frowned but figured you would answer anyway.

“Hm...it was old books, oranges, and jasmine. Pretty pleasant if you ask me.” Shifting your weight, you tilted your head before questioning him again. “So, how about you?”

“Nothing.” His lips pursed with his eyebrows were scrunched, “I don’t smell anything.”

The first thought that came to you was simply that that wasn’t possible. But you couldn’t question him or dwell on the idea any longer. Hyunjin ended the small talk when he sharply snatched his textbook off the desk and left the room, leaving you to feel bad you even asked.

Feeling down since you’ve somehow insulted two people within the span of five minutes, you figure it’s your time to go. A heavy sigh and a moment later you headed towards the exit.

“Miss y/n, please don’t feel bad about that. It’s good to be curious. Some people just have a complicated relationship with this kind of stuff.” Professor Lee consoled you, he was packing his notes and materials up from his desk. His smile was sympathetic.

You smiled and shrugged, “I just don’t think he’s a very open person, sir.”

“Well, Miss y/n, that just makes their journey all the more satisfying.”

“The journey?”

“Getting to know somebody is an adventure all on its own. I’m sure you’ll discover this.” Professor Lee began walking out from behind his desk, parchment in hand. “Somebody like him specifically, Hyunjin, would be a tough but fascinating journey.”

“You’re talking about people like they’re stories, sir.”

“Well, everyone has their own story, for some people, it just takes some digging. I know you’re an inquisitive person, you have a thirst for knowledge."

"Thank you, your enthusiasm when you teach really does help." You smile gratefully, then paused as something came to mind. "Actually, where’s that parchment for the extra credit? I'd like to do it; the lessons have been getting a little hard to understand."

"Oh, of course! It's right here." He held out the parchment in his hand and gave you a quill. "Go right ahead dear, you'll be given a partner to complete this outside of class."

"Okay, thanks sir, I'll see you later." You sign and gather your things, leaving the classroom in a better mood than you would have otherwise. You nearly forget Seungmin was outside waiting for you, so you sent him an apologetic look.

"Took you long enough, I was about to go in and check if you died," Seungmin commented, propped on the ledge jutting out from the sculptured stone walls. He looked uncomfortable.

"Wow, you really did wait for me, I'm flattered." You smiled, pleasantly surprised despite the frown set on Seungmin.

"Yeah, I did, now hurry up before we're late for charms class." He began to walk ahead of you while you trailed behind him, a couple steps quicker to try to catch up. "What did you smell anyway?"

"Hmm, old books, citrus, and jasmine. All quite nice if you ask me."

Seungmin hummed in response, slowing his pace for you; he seemed content. The smug little smirk on your face showed your sense of satisfaction. Seungmin could never stay mean to you, it didn’t matter what; you two have been best friends since the first year. He got grumpy sometimes, but it never lasted long when it came to you. You nudged him with your elbow, catching him on the side; then, you looked up at him to show off your smug little grin. In return, he rolled his eyes and nudged you back, but you peaked at the little smile he attempted to hold back.

The next morning was breakfast time, and the only way to describe your journey to the Great Hall was a hobble. Or maybe a shuffle or stagger. And it was a long ways away from the Ravenclaw tower down to the Great Hall. As a result, you were really struggling to move your tired limbs. Perhaps you'll take a quick nap during breakfast, or sleep during Ms. Hong's charm class. Either way, you were not awake, and it showed. Badly.

Unfortunately, you’ve developed an awful habit of not sleeping when you’re supposed to, and it’s resulted in your morning zombie-ness. And general crankiness if you were going to be honest. All that nagging Seungmin threw at you didn’t help either, he always nagged at you to sleep early or to eat right. It was easy for him to say though, he was one of the early birds in this school.

And as soon as you took your seat at the Ravenclaw table, you knew the look Seungmin was putting your way. He really just reminded you of your mother sometimes. So, before he could nag you, you nagged yourself. You hitch your voice into a slightly nasally tone and scrunch your nose mockingly. “Y/n you need to sleep earlier, study before 10pm, don’t rely on caffeine, stop procrastinating you lazy ass.”

“I don’t sound like that!"

“Shhh, yea, you do, don’t pretend you don’t know. Don’t be so loud in the mornings, please.” You grumble and lay your head on the table after placing a muffin on your plate. After closing your eyes, you sigh heavily and ultimately regret your life choices that lead to your headache and tired eyes.

Seungmin shook his head, “I wasn't even going to say anything. You’re a brat in the mornings, you know that right?”

“Mmmhm, watcha gonna do about it?” You mumble, head still lying on the table and eyes shut comfortably. After a few seconds, you got no response, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Meanwhile, Seungmin wasn’t buying into your childish attitude right now. Simply resting his cheek to the palm of his hand, eyelids lowering in boredom, and with a weary sigh said, “Your robes are on inside out.”

"No, it's not you're just messing with me." You didn't even bother to check.

Seungmin stopped bothering you in favor of chatting with Jeongin. Another Ravenclaw just a year below you; he also had a knack for annoying you. You weren't surprised that he and Seungmin got along so well. Eventually, maybe a few minutes passed before your thoughts shut down, and you were snoozing away. A soothing smell drifted in the air around you, slightly mixed in with the fresh oranges and ripening bananas. It smelled very familiar, but you were too drowsy to remember the name, and it served to make you fall deeper into your morning nap.

"How does she fall asleep so quickly…" Jeongin stared at you in engrossed bafflement and proceeded to wave a hand in front of your face. He was another early bird who enjoyed teasing you about your poor life choices.

“Because she refuses to go to bed at a reasonable time,” Seungmin said, bored as if he’s been through this situation many times before. Which to his credit, he has. "She’ll start snoring soon, just wait.”

And you did, the snores were quiet at first, more like loud breathing. Jeongin raised his eyebrows, “You were right.”

Seungmin smiled a smug smile, and tapped his temple. “I know her well, later she’ll complain about how tired she still is but can’t sleep. Then the cycle will repeat.”

Seungmin then pulled out a quill, a devilish smile on hand. “I have an idea.”

Jeongin mirrored his mischievous grin, immediately recognizing the type of quill he took out. Without hesitation, Seungmin, on your exposed cheek, began to write gently. While nothing showed up at first, the quill contained disappearing ink; and that means that in about an hour the ink will become visible. Just about the time you'd be getting sleepy again, in potions class where he had to deal with your lazy ass.

Seungmin felt satisfied with his work. His little art piece wasn’t visible at the moment. But the little mustache and monocle he drew would give him a good laugh later in class. He even wrote ‘I told you so’ on your forehead, just to take a jab at you.

Eventually, you were forced to wake up. The students around you filing out of the Great Hall and through the large entrance doors, the chatter filling the castle. You lifted your head. It felt heavy as you stretched your arms out to yawn. Drowsy and your vision still blurry, you picked up your muffin and quickly began to eat. You sat there for a moment, letting your sleepiness slowly fade away. Only then did you freeze Seungmin and jeongin left you there, you pursed your lips and puffed your cheeks out. But you should've expected it, it always annoyed Seungmin when your lousy sleeping habits caught up to you, and you knew it.

You shook it off though as Seungmin just being Seungmin and stared dully at the seat he sat in across from you. He had a half-filled plate of breakfast food leftover, and you really just thought of why he would grab so much if he didn't even eat it. But one thing caught your attention, making you do a double-take. A funny feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes stuck on the teacup across from you as the gears in your head work hard. The silence as the room emptied out only amplified the thoughts in your mind.

Seungmin's tea was jasmine, he always drank a cup in the morning and before bed. Although Seungmin drinks a lot of tea throughout the day, jasmine is his favorite. It was usually routine for him to start and end the day with it. And well, you always liked the smell of it; since you associated it with good memories and Seungmin. You recognized it as the smell that so easily put you to sleep this morning. And you also recognized it as the last thing you smelled in Amortentia.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together, but it was a jarring revelation. Did you love Seungmin? Of course, you would say yes, but to think of him romantically gave you a funny feeling in your chest. You blinked at the teacup in front of you, trying to decipher what this meant for you. If somebody asked how you felt, you wouldn't be able to answer clearly. It was as if that warm, fuzzy feeling right now was also constricting. Your breathing was heightened, and there was a pressure in your abdomen. The most honest answer you could say was that your feelings were mixed.

"Miss," there was a tap on your shoulder, breaking you from your thoughts. You blink wildly as if torn from a daze and stare at the professor in front of you, slightly baffled. She looks at you softly, "it's time to go to class hun."

"Oh," you reply dumbly. But hearing the awkward sound quickly brought you back to your senses. "Oh, yes of course. I'm sorry professor, I guess I'm still waking up. It's not an easy morning I suppose."

"We all have those days, now hurry along and get to class before you're late."

"Of course, thank you" you gather your stuff and rush out of the now empty Great Hall.

You speed walked to your next class in a daze, took notes in a daze, and left the class in a daze. Seungmin. Seungmin? Maybe...but, it was Seungmin. Your best friend, Seungmin.

Which you had your next class with, and you absolutely wouldn't be able to concentrate. It was potions, which you suppose was a good thing. You were good at potions, and Professor Lee was giving out the assignments for the extra credit today. You found yourself standing in front of the potions room door, staring at the floor and thinking to yourself. You shake your head and huff, you just decide to focus on the studies for now. Worrying can wait.

You walk into potions class and take your usual seat next to Seungmin, and everything was as usual. Professor Lee began his lecture, and you and Seungmin made little comments to each other, sometimes snide and sometimes witty. He scribbled notes in his little parchment paper, bound into a notebook. You lean over towards Seungmin, boredom already creeping up on you, and start doodling on his parchment. He doesn’t even bat an eye, he’s too used to your strange doodles. At first, he always complained about the “weird muggle drawing” on his study notes. But he eventually grew to know who Spongebob was, initially asking why there was a “block of cheese with a face on it” on his paper. Being a young first year, you were horrified that he didn’t know who Spongebob was. And proceeded to explain to him what Spongebob and cartoons were. Little pureblood Seungmin was weirded out, but since you kept on drawing on his notes, he figured it was useless to keep complaining. Now he actually likes seeing your doodles on his notes, even if they weren’t that good. It was always a different person or character, and whenever a new one popped up, he would ask about it. Currently, you were doodling a bad rendition of the gang from Monsters Inc.

Seungmin glances over at you, smirks, then looks back down to continue note taking. This action makes you pause for a moment. You stare at him, waiting for him to explain to you why he looks so smug and satisfied. You can already tell this isn’t a good sign for you, to mentally prepare yourself for the worst.

“Seungmin.” You nudge him gently, “What did you do this time?”

He looks at you, eyes you a bit before looking at his paper again, a smile on his lips. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Liar.” You narrow your eyes, trying to think of the previous pranks he pulled on you. It only took a moment before the lightbulb lit above your head, your expression was one of annoyance. “You drew something on my face, didn’t you.”

“Of course not, why would I do that?” He pretends to be offended, but you knew he was satisfied on the inside. His response only confirmed your suspicions.

You grumble to yourself before trying to wipe the ink off your face, but you were sure you were just smudging it. Also hoping nobody else noticed whatever it was Seungmin decided to draw. And you could only wish it was nothing obscene. After a few minutes of trying to wipe the ink off your face, Seungmin finally took pity and began wiping it off for you. He chuckled silently to himself while doing it, though. What a little fucker.

Soon enough the professor got everyone's attention after his lecture of the day. You tuned in after a whole class period of barely listening, and it’s a good thing you did. He just started talking about the extra credit project. And so, you decide that you need to pay attention to this. Putting your thoughts away, you turned your focus towards professor Lee.

"Now, I must say I am slightly disappointed. Out of the 17 of you in this class, only 4 signed up for extra credit." Professor Lee huffed indignantly. But continued anyway. "But those who have, I’m proud to say, are quite brilliant students.”

You leaned into Seungmin and asked him in a low tone, “Did you sign up?”

He shook his head and shrugged, you pouted, a little disappointed.

“First pair, Na Jaemin and Kwon Eunbin. You two will be brewing the potion Felix Felicus. The next, and last, pair will be Hwang Hyunjin and y/f/n. And the two of you will be brewing Amortentia. Those are both complicated potions you know, and it must be done outside of class. We are much too busy in class here to work on this project. I suggest the four of you see me after class to discuss this more if you have any questions.”

Your curiosity was peaked, you twisted around in your chair to spot Hyunjin a few seats behind you. The odd boy was going to be your partner. He didn’t seem too interested, but his eyes flicked to meet yours when he sensed your gaze on him. You smiled and waved, trying to look friendly enough after what happened yesterday; maybe you came off as insensitive? Hyunjin nodded to you politely, the ghost of a smile hovered on his lips. After a moment, his attention turned back to the professor. But your gaze lingered for another second, you twisted back around after.

Seungmin nudged you, “Got a little crush, huh?”

Your jaw dropped and you smacked his arm in offense, “No, of course not. I just think he’s a little strange…”

“Strange?”

“Yea, isn’t there something off about him? He’s not mean or anything, but it’s like...like an act.”

Seungmin shook his head in denial, “I don’t see anything wrong, maybe that's just how he is.”

You thought about it for a moment, but it still bothered you. Nonetheless, the topic was dropped, and your mind clung onto another question. Was Seungmin aware of the Amortentia thing? He knew what you smelled in the potion, and Seungmin isn’t a dumb boy. Unquestionably he connected the dots and knew you smelled his jasmine tea, but for some reason just held off telling you. Or maybe he didn’t want to cause any awkward feelings because he didn’t reciprocate those feelings…

The thought of that put you down though, like your heart felt heavy just thinking of that possibility. You frowned, you were positive Seungmin knew, because you knew him well enough. He’s a smart boy. You rested your chin on your hand and tilted your head to eye Seungmin, squinting your eyes skeptically.

Of course, he noticed, not like you were hiding it anyway. He only looked at you weirdly and scoffed, amused. “What’s with the stink eye?”

“Not a stink eye, just thinking.” Your response was curt.

He pinched your nose affectionately while you swatted his hand away, “You overthink.”

“What a hypocrite, you’re a thinker too.”

“Yea, but at least I’m still grounded in reality. When you think, your heads way up there.” Seungmin looks up and points towards the sky. You purse your lips, unable to retort. And soon after, class was finishing up.

You stood from your seat, grabbed your textbooks, and waited as you leaned on the table. Eyes closed, you sigh breathily and wait for further instructions. When you open your eyes, Hyunjin was waiting as well with the same bored expression as you. The other two classmates were standing around too, it seems like none of you were particularly happy about this extra credit project. You couldn’t dwell on the thought much longer, though, because your professor stood in front of you all now, a huge gummy smile on his face. You sneak a glance at Hyunjin only to see a prominent frown on his usually indifferent face, your head tilts in curiosity.

“Hm…”

∎∎∎

Two days later and you sat in the library, not exactly enthused about Hyunjin’s tardiness. When Professor Lee explained the criteria for the extra credit a couple days ago, you and Hyunjin decided on when your first meet-up would be. And it was agreed that 6pm in the library would work. You were chewing on some oranges, a pile of the rines sitting on the table, the citrus-y scent wavering around you.

Apparently, it didn’t, because Hyunjin was thirty minutes late and your temper was increasing by the minute. You were muttering to yourself, “This boy, geez, what’s his deal. He better have a mighty good excuse for this…”

Pulling out a potions textbook, you just decide to start on your own. Doing nothing won’t get you anywhere. You probably sat there for another fifteen minutes or so before a couple chairs were pulled out and sat in. Looking up, you expected to see Hyunjin, but instead you were greeted by Jaemin and Renjun, you furrowed your eyebrows. You were friends with the two boys, Renjun was in Ravenclaw with you so it was a natural friendship. And you knew the Slytherin Jaemin through Renjun, all in the same year as you. You tilted your head and rested an arm on your textbook.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, a bored look in your eyes.

Jaemin whistled, pretending to be offended, “What? No ‘Hi Jaemin! Hello Renjun! It’s so nice to see you guys.’”

You rolled your eyes at him, Jaemin even fluttered his eyelashes for the extra flair. “No, since when have I ever greeted you guys like that. And you didn’t answer my question, why are you here?”

“Ah, you’re so cold to us.” Renjun chuckled, but smiled nonetheless, knowing you were just being comfortable with them. “We just needed to check up on some things. But we saw you and wanted to say hi. The real question is, why are you here and why do you look so pissy?”

“I’m doing extra credit work for potions, but, Hyunjin is supposed to do it with me and I haven’t heard from him.” You frowned, bookmarking your page and closing your textbook.

“What, really?” Jaemin looked confused, “Hyunjin was sleeping last I saw him.”

“He...was sleeping.” You repeated, irritated and about to drag him to the library by his ear if need be.

Jaemin nodded and stood up, “He’s one of my roommates. Never mentioned extra credit or anything.”

Renjun stood up with him and shrugged, “Maybe you guys will have to reschedule your study date. Wish you luck, we’ll be going now.”

“Study date?? Renjun no, no, that's not-” You tried to explain, but they walked away before you even finished your sentence. They even stole a couple of your oranges before they left. You sighed, exasperated and tired, they always teased you; they even had the nerve to steal your oranges! But your irritation caught up to you again as your head dropped and thumped onto the table. You sighed heavily as you just laid there, you figured it’s about time you pack things up. You can’t get too far without Hyunjin, and you weren’t about to do all the work and let Hyunjin slack off. This was a group project!

Just as you stood up and began packing your things away, a familiar figure rushed into the library, making a ruckus and disturbing the calm atmosphere. It was Hyunjin.

The boy basically stumbled through the door and slammed his hands against the wall to keep himself from entirely faceplanting. Somehow while still tripping over his own two feet. All of which caused a loud thud sound and all eyes on him; this provoked a violent and angry “Shhh!” from the librarian. He stood up straight and apologized, seemingly bewildered at how extra his entrance was. Then as he lifted his head up, he was able to see that most eyes were on him. Pink crept up his neck, and his usual calm demeanor was broken as he scratched the back of his neck. He quickly walked away from the entrance, trying to shake off all the eyes on him. It didn’t take long for Hyunjin to spot you and he made his way over, he let out a long, drawn out sigh. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as if he was trying to erase that moment from his memory.

You stood there, arms crossed and a prominent frown gracing your features. About a million questions were buzzing through your head, but first one you chose to scold him. “Why are you so late?? I was sitting here for like 45 whole minutes Hyunjin, and Jaemin comes by and tells me you were sleeping?? Really? Honestly, you better have a damn good excuse for this, this project isn’t easy, and we gotta pick it up if we want to do good on it.”

Hyunjin just stood there, mouth slightly ajar and eyes staring intently. He then stammered, “R-right sorry, I had quidditch practice before this and I got back to the dorm and just crashed… I woke up and ran here...um...”

He didn’t know what else to say. He was...flustered? Your eyebrows furrowed and your anger subsided in favor of curiosity. You’ve never seen this boy flustered before. Hyunjin always seemed level-headed and sharp, but with the way he was acting now, it was a strange new side of him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Hyunjin questioned, kind of worried about what you would say next. “Are you about to scold me more or…”

You looked up at him and shrugged, a glint of teasing in your eyes, “I just think you’re strange. Now let’s get started on this project, chop chop.”

Your response clearly caught him off guard. “Wh-what, wait, strange? You can’t just change the subject like that, why? Hey, don’t ignore me.”

“Come on, I already started the research for this, you gotta catch up.”

“I-what?? You started without me?”

“Um, yea, you were late so I’m not the one at fault here. Now come onnn, I wanna get started.”

“Ah...okay okay.” Hyunjin was still a little flustered and confused, but he sat down beside you anyway and looked at the textbook. It seemed like he was in deep thought, just staring dumbly at the textbooks cover. He was still processing the embarrassing moment that just took place.

You had to flip the book open to the right page, and Hyunjin’s lips formed an ‘o’. You chuckled to yourself, figuring this was going to be a bit more fun than you initially expected. Picking up an orange, you began to peel it and handed Hyunjin a piece. He took it gratefully and you plopped a bit into your mouth, savoring the flavor as you started reading the textbook with Hyunjin.

And studying with Hyunjin was...surprisingly easy. He was cooperative, and if he had any questions, he didn’t hesitate to ask. While he very swiftly regained his usual calm demeanor, it wasn’t a stubborn or cold one as you had originally thought. He was just quite a bit more aloof and quiet, not like that’s an awful thing; although, it was as though he attempted to regain his composure. Despite that, you discovered that the two of you actually got along quite well. You were actually making good progress on the research portion of this project. Note-taking and finding the right sources were a breeze, which usually weren’t in your past experiences. It was a miracle in a sense, Hyunjin was able to make good progress, even with your lazy ass occasionally getting distracted. Which he quickly turned your attention back to the problem at hand. The only thing that bothered you, sometimes Hyunjin would get a blank look on his face. It would be in between the little intervals of conversation, and he would just go blank. No facial expression but he was clearly thinking, his mind was running, but nothing was there. It normally wouldn’t bother you, it was just how he felt, right? It was just the vacant look his eyes took on, they were cold and distant. Something about it made you uncomfortable. Those moments were rare, though, and so you just carried on.

Nearly an hour later, you stretched your arms in the air, flexing your fingers out. A yawn escaped your lips as you rubbed your dreary eyes, laying your head on the table between your crossed arms. Hyunjin's condition was no different. He was leaning back in his chair, slouched and his head drooping. His hair fell over his half-lidded eyes while his arms were crossed comfortably. Sleep for these two drowsy sorcerers was imminent. The efforts of your work were splayed out across the table, messy hand-writing and orange rinds and all. Several open textbooks were stacked upon each other, the musty library smell and peaceful silence lulled you two to sleep.

The sun was beginning to set as an illustrious golden glow shown through the library windows. Rays of the intense orange glow shining spotlights upon the few library occupants remaining. As the sun sunk over the horizon, a particularly strong orange ray slowly crept its way right into Hyunjin’s face. He sneered at the disturbance of his sleep, squeezing his eyes before fluttering them open. His hand went to shield his eyes from the annoying light.

Hyunjin had to blink a couple more times to get a hold of his surroundings, temporarily forgetting where he was. But he quickly remembered whenever he was you snoozing away next to him. Your head on the table, using a textbook as a cushion. Your hair fell over your face, a strand getting caught between your lips as you snored softly. Hyunjin’s eyebrows raised curiously as he watched your lips move intermittently, you were mumbling under your breath. Sleep talking.

Hyunjin frowned. What time is it? He looked around the library, and there were simply a few students left, the sun was setting, and even the librarian was giving him a nasty side-eye. He cringed, remembering his entrance from earlier and figured it was time to go. His attention was turned back to you, he reached out and brushed the hair out of your face. Trying not to startle you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and shook gently.

"Y/n…" he prodded, but you were as still as a log, your cheek squished up against the textbook. Hyunjin prodded once more, shaking you a bit harder this time and still no response except a vague mumble of word salad from you.

"Tch, what a hypocrite," he scoffed, but there was no ill intent behind the action. He raised an eyebrow, and his lips raised as well in a smirk. Hyunjin was plotting against you. He sat up and leaned in close to you with his elbows situated on his knees.

"Hey...y/n…” Hyunjin cooed gently beside you, “Honey, I love you.”

You smiled faintly, still snoozing, but you responded nonetheless. "I love you too, Minnie…"

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, continuing deviously, "When’s our date?"

Your eyebrows scrunched and you mumbled something incoherently. "Bu..en..mmm… you asked me out?

"Yea, to Hogsmeade, remember silly."

"Hmmm, I dunno." you trailed off, a soft snore interrupted your thoughts. "Is about time though…"

Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed and a smug smirk gracing his features. He was satisfied, and what he suspected was true. Amused and planning on teasing you later, Hyunjin finally woke you up for real.

You lifted your head up and yawned as you stretched your legs, "What's the time…?"

Hyunjin shrugged, looking forward he couldn't help but smile.

"What's that look for?" You sat up and turned toward him, seeing the weird smile he put on.

"Oh nothing," he shrugged, then turned his head over his shoulder, the shit eating grin wider now. "I just discovered you talk in your sleep."

A grain of dread settled into your stomach, small yet very obviously there. The unattractive feeling must've shown on your face since Hyunjin looked very amused. You gulped, a knot began to form in your throat as you muttered, embarrassed. "What did I say?"

You've often been told you slept talk. But it was mostly around your roommates in the late hours of the night, you never talked in your sleep in the day. If you did, Seungmin would've commented on it more. You were sure of that. You stared at Hyunjin expectantly, waiting for him to answer. But he only rested his elbow on the back of the uncomfortable wooden chairs and twisted his back, stretching it out.

"Ahh, that's a conversation for another day. I'm tired and my backs killing me." He whined as he stretched his back. Then rubbed his neck with a soft smile, "The library isn't very comfortable."

There was a hint of teasing in that grin. You narrowed your eyes. "Hwang Hyunjin, whatever I said stays between us, got it?"

In response, he winked and put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. You narrowed your eyes playfully and smiled. Hyunjin stood up, the wooden chair squeaking against the floorboards, and gathered the leather-bound textbooks. Just as he turned his back toward you, he lowered his head to check the books in his arms and spoke. You noticed his hair brushed over his eyes.

“Have a good night, y/n.”

“You too.”

And so, not too long after you were sitting in the Ravenclaw common room. The tall walls lined with books from all over, old and new. Blue and bronze decorated the entire space, and the white walls stood elegantly. Exhausted and weary, but not tired enough to sleep so you just hung yourself on an armchair as Seungmin read on the floor beside you. You groaned as your head rested on the arm of the chair. Your leg draped over the opposite arm. You squeezed your eyes shut and sighed.

“Was working with him that bad?” Seungmin pulled his brows together, setting his book down and twisting around to look at you. You looked down at him, cross-legged on the floor and staring up at you. Shaking your head, you sighed again and just laid there for a moment.

“No, it wasn’t. But well, I don’t know. He’s odd.” You tried to explain, but the weariness throughout your body was impeding on your ability to think properly.

“Real descriptive.” He smiled and leaned his back against the foot of the armchair. “So, then he’s weird?”

“Well, no, but he’s not...normal? Not like it’s a bad thing, but it’s just, like he’s hiding something? I don’t know, Seungmin, like sometimes I see him and he looks so cold. And sometimes he’s so charismatic, you know?” You exasperatedly waved your hands to try to explain better, but Seungmin wasn’t even looking. He was listening, though, since he hummed thoughtfully. You continued, “I don’t know how to put it, but I can just sense something off about him. The more I think about it, the more he confuses me. You just can’t tell right away.”

Seungmin leans his head again the chair, “You’re thinking about him an awful lot.”

“Because he’s confusing.” You whined. “And now I gotta work with him for the next...oh I don’t know, a month? And it’s just going to confuse me more, it’s intellectual torture, Seungmin.”

“Oh, poor you.” Seungmin faux pouted, then let out a little laugh, “Are you sure you aren’t just, curious about him? Maybe he’s only confusing to you because you want to get to know him better. Mysteries always intrigued you.”

You pondered his words for a while, a frown settling onto your face. The sun had finally set and the only light in the common room was from the little lanterns spread about, gifting the refined room with warm orange light. Maybe Seungmin was right? But that couldn’t be the only reason to be so confused about Hyunjin. You were a naturally curious person, always have been, so it’s not impossible. In the end, you decided to drop the topic and try to go to sleep.

“Well, whatever.” You sat up and ruffled Seungmin’s hair up, “I’ll be going to bed now.”

Seungmin swatted your hand away and attempted to smooth his hair down, but it was too late. You snicker at him and stand up, making your way across the common room towards the girls' dorms. You called out, tiredly leaning onto the cold, stone walls “Goodnight, Minnie.”

“Yea, see ya.” Seungmin yawned and lifted a hand.

∎∎∎

A whole week after beginning the project, and you and Hyunjin were well on the way to making the potion. It was going very well, and in your opinion, you were beginning to befriend Hyunjin. Despite his eccentricities, he was charming to be around. It didn’t surprise you that he tended to get along with most people. While he had his moments, be it a bad mood or whatever, you tried not to dwell on it too much.

Especially since the Amortentia was looking fantastic. The potion research paper and data were all gathered and written down. All that was left was the actual brewing and then the after paper. Fun.

So, after school for four days a week, you and Hyunjin brew the Amortentia in the potions room. Which was where you were heading to, the tapping of your footsteps echoing in the spacious stone halls. The chittering of a few students accompanied the background noise. Still, you figured most students were enjoying their free, after-school leisure time and weren’t trying to wander the halls. Unlike you. Not like you minded much. You’d actually be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this time spent with Hyunjin, the two of you actually got along quite well.

When you arrived to the potions room, you pushed the heavy wood door open with one hand while your other carried the supplies. When your eyes shifted up, the simple yet comical sight made you bark out a laugh. You experienced a short bout of Deja Vu. Because what you found was Hyunjin standing plainly in front of the cauldron, just looking down into it. He wasn’t in any sort of natural pose, nor was he leaning his weight anywhere. Hyunjin was just standing there, arms at his sides, and looking down at the caldron as if he didn’t know what to do.

He reminded you of a sim. Like from the muggle computer games.

And it amused you very very much.

“You look like a sim!” You laughed delightfully, closing the door behind you.

Hyunjin looked at you, brows pulled together in obvious confusion. He still stood in the default sim pose. “A what?”

“A sim!” You snickered, “Like when they don’t have any instructions.”

And Hyunjin just stared at you as if you were mad. He shifted his weight onto one foot and crossed his arms, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You shot him a sympathetic smile and wiped a fake tear from your eye, really playing up the dramatic act in that moment. “Ah, that’s right. You, my friend, are a pureblood and unknowing of muggle luxuries. What a shame.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “That doesn’t answer my question, what the hell is a sim? Like, a simulator? What kind of simulators do muggles run?”

The boy looked perplexed. It amused you.

You laid your books down on the table next to the cauldron and took out a couple quills. “Nope, it’s a uh, a game. Like on the computer so it’s digital and doesn’t have any real world effects.”

“What’s a computer?” Hyunjin looked intrigued now, tilting his head like a puppy with his soft brown puppy eyes. Why did this guy have to be so good-looking? It wasn’t good for your emotional capacities, aka your heart. You sighed.

“You have a lot to learn about the muggle world.” Shaking your head, you stirred the potion in the cauldron. “It’s a shame cause all of it really had progressed quite far.”

“Yea, but they don’t have magic, how advanced can they really b-”

You jumped, twirling 180 degrees to face Hyunjin behind you and cutting him off with a gasp, “You don’t know about memes!”

“What the fuck is a memes??”

Oh, you had so much to teach him about muggles. Which is what you did, and to your pleasant surprise, he seemed interested. He asked a lot of questions, which made you quite happy to explain to him. You rambled on about the muggle world as Hyunjin kept an open ear, all while beginning the brewing for the Amortentia. While muggles aren't as controversial to Slytherins as they used to be, many Slytherin and pureblood enthusiasts still turn their nose up at them.

Hyunjin, you were glad, was not one of them.

The first thing you taught Hyunjin was about gum of all things. You happened to have a pack on you and offered him some mint gum. You told him tons of muggles chewed it, but usually never swallowed it. He seemed a little confused at first. He didn’t complain and still seemed to like it though.

“Okay, so...today we added the ashwinder eggs and a handful of rose thorns” You read off of the instructions. “The potion needs to sit before we do much else with it, so we can continue brewing in about an hour. Then it has to sit for a whole nother day.”

You read over the specific instructions one more time to make sure and check yourself. While the potions ingredients were easily obtainable at Hogwarts, the procedures for it were incredibly tedious.

Hyunjin pulled a face mockingly, “Stir potion rigidly for ten and a half turns, let sit for five minutes before putting in sixteen rose thorns, blah blah blah.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” You nudged him and rolled your eyes, “don’t forget who had to get the ingredients because the bat spleens made you too squeamish.”

“You can’t blame me, those are disgusting.” Hyunjin stuck his tongue out and scrunched his nose, just by remembering the smell in the supply cabinet. He sat down and made himself comfortable, throwing his leg around the back of it so he straddled the chair. He rested his chin on it and he stared at you. “I’m bored.”

You climbed onto the table, next to the cauldron and plopped down on it. Your legs hung in the air and you just shrugged at him. “There isn’t much to do other than wait.”

“Earlier…” Hyunjin began, a hint of wonderment in his voice. “You were talking about muggle games and what they do for fun. Continue with that.”

You smiled, “Well, that’s a broad topic…”

“Oh, let’s play the one. Um… Dare and Truth?” Hyunjin tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows, then nodded to himself.

“Truth or Dare.”

“Same thing.”

Hyunjin surprised you in many ways, but you never expected to be playing truth or dare with the boy. Despite his slight confusion on how to play, it was a fun time and you ended up playing until the end. A lot more fun than you expected, actually. You’ve discovered Hyunjin was quite dramatic and a bit of a scaredy cat, refusing to partake in some of the more out-there dares you suggested. So, you were lenient on the dares since he was a newbie. Although, halfway into the hour, the game started to sound more like Would You Rather since there’s only so much two people could do with Truth or Dare.

Admittedly, you found Hyunjin very charming. He was distant in many ways, but still kind and charismatic. And oftentimes, you found yourself laughing with him. It surprised you how well the two of you connected.

“So…” Hyunjin hummed, taking his time to think of a question. “Would you rather...live as a muggle or a wizard for the rest of your life?”

You opened your mouth, then closed if after a second to think. Off the top of your head, you were about to say wizard, hands down. But as a muggle-born, your whole childhood was spent in the muggle world. Your entire family were muggles, and almost everything you knew was muggle. You loved the wizarding world, but you would most certainly feel homesick. “Um...muggle.”

Hyunjin looked surprised, “Why? That means no magic.”

He seemed perplexed, but you simply shrugged, “I love the muggle world. It’s where I grew up and where everything I know is. My family are muggles...I don’t think I could leave that behind.”

Hyunjin nodded thoughtfully, “It sounds amazing how they live so efficiently without magic…”

“It’s not as archaic as it sounds.” You laughed, “Muggles are actually very innovative. Now it’s my turn to ask you something.”

“Shoot. Oh, can I have another piece of gum?” He asked before you threw him another piece. He’s recently addicted to the mint-flavored gum you’ve been handing out. He wasn’t a big fan of gum before you, but now it just seems like he constantly asks you. The wizarding world does have gum, but it’s somewhat different from muggle gum. You guessed Hyunjin just preferred it more.

“So, would you rather risk your life for someone you love or have somebody risk their life out of love for you?” You smirked. Leaning back on the palms of your hands, you shifted; your bottom was getting uncomfortable from sitting on the tabletop for so long.

Hyunjin went silent for a moment, his expression dropped significantly. It looked conflicted and he slumped to rest his chin on the chairs back. Your smug smirk is wiped off your face as you realize you may have hit a sensitive topic for him, but you stayed silent and waited for his answer. He took his time, but he eventually looked up at you, sincerity crystal clear as he gave you your answer.

“I would rather die for love.”

The look of pure determination in his eyes caught you completely off guard. Your innocent question was answered thoughtfully by Hyunjin, who seemed to have strong feelings about it. At a loss for words, you blinked a couple times. You swallowed a sudden lump in your throat as you felt your heart thump wildly in your chest. These feelings were an unexpected turn of events, but after another moment, you smiled at him.

“That’s really endearing, I’m sure the love you feel is strong if you’re willing to risk your life for them.” You grinned warmly, then you pondered wistfully “I wonder if I could do anything like that...how that would feel to love someone so much in a moment.”

Hyunjin tore his eyes away from you, “Yea, I wonder what that feels like as well.”

∎∎∎

You sat across from Hyunjin, who was being very pouty at that moment.

Your arms were crossed, “Come on, get to work.”

He rested his chin on the table and looked at you with those big, stupid puppy dog eyes. “No.”

“We are literally in the library to do this stupid project,” You lightly whacked his shoulder, “now work.”

“I’m tired.” He whined and put his head down. His arms were splayed out on the table and pushed the numerous textbooks out of the way, ultimately messing up the study space. Hyunjin was not an easy person to motivate.

It was very late. The two of you have been in the library for four hours already, and for some reason, the Amortentia turned a weird green color. You were trying to find a way to remedy it without restarting the whole potion because it takes so long to brew. So you gathered as many potions books you could find and dropped them onto the table. All while Hyunjin attempted to work on the essay that was due with this project as well. And he was not happy with it.

“Y/n, I’m nearly dyslexic. Why did you make ME write the essay?? You’re the Ravenclaw.” He sat up and complained, throwing the quill onto the table. The light plink sound it made caused you to look up from the current book you were reading. You sighed and frowned.

“Look, I know you’re frustrated,” You then held up your textbook to face him. Allowing him to see the tragedy that was the potions book, it had itty bitty font with such confusing wording that even Shakespeare would cringe at it. “But do you REALLY want to read this horror story of a textbook. The dude who wrote this must’ve really been up his high horse. It really just sounds like a bunch of mumbo jumbo without a dictionary. He really just thinks big words and long sentences means better writing. Yikes.”

“Ah, come on it can’t be that bad.”

You gave him a look and handed him the textbook. “Okay, how about you read for a while and I’ll write?”

“Deal.” Hyunjin took the textbook and slid the parchment paper over to you, flicking it over carelessly and clearly happy to be rid of it. He obviously didn’t care much for this essay. You chuckled and shook your head.

You began by reading over what he already wrote, and it wasn’t bad, you just had to correct a few things before you started writing. Hyunjin only sat in stubborn silence, brows lowered in concentration. It’s wasn’t even ten minutes later when Hyunjin slammed the book down in frustration, “Listen, I don’t consider myself dumb. But what the hell does ‘DEFENESTRATE’ MEAN!!!???”

You calmly looked up from the paper, “The act of throwing something out of a window.”

“I’m about to throw this book out the window.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a long, heavy sigh. “Let me read it for like, ten more minutes and then we can switch back?”

“Yeah yeah, just let me know when. I bet you only last five.” You smiled and challenged him. Then got back to work, finding him a little cute.

“Yeah I’ll prove you wrong.” He muttered and began reading, this time with a dictionary on hand.

Time passed quickly, and soon ten minutes became twenty and you were getting suspicious. It was getting late and the library would be closing soon. The lights were dimming significantly as long shadows loomed through the library rows. Only about halfway done with the essay you take a quick break to see Hyunjin nose deep in the book. The worn leather bound cover clenched tight in his slender fingers as he looked slightly distressed. His hair was more ruffled up, probably from him running his hands through it a few too many times. But his expression was concerning, his lips were pulled taught and there was a heavy crease between his eyebrows. His eyes, especially, looked troubled and worried.

“Hey Hyunjin…” You called to him, concern lacing your voice.

“Hm...?” He didn’t take his nose out from the book, eyes still scanning the words of it.

“You can take a break, it’s okay. You just look...I don’t know, upset.”

Hyunjin finally looked up from the book and lowered it, you saw him swallow. His eyes darted away from you.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked at you intensely, as if he were analyzing you. Judging you. It made you fidget in your chair, shifting your weight once or twice under his burning gaze. After he looked away again, he began packing up. Quickly shoving the textbook into his bag with the rest of his supplies. He stood up, frazzled and unnerved, “I’ll check this book out, let’s get out of here and then I’ll explain.”

“Hyunjin, you’re scaring me.” You looked at him suspiciously, slowly packing your stuff up as well.

“It’s okay, I just think...I just think I know what the problem is now.” Hyunjin grabbed your hand and guided you out of the library. He took the lead since he seemed like he wanted to go somewhere specific. He was on alert and a little jumpy, walking quickly. So, you didn’t say much more and allowed him to just show you what he wanted to. Soon enough though he calmed down a little and slowed down his pace, now walking side by side with you. You were clearly confused and a little anxious, but his hand in yours calmed you a little. You weren’t sure if he just forgot to pull his hand away or if he held it deliberately, he was frazzled so it made it hard to tell. You decided not to bring it to attention.

Eventually, he pulled you around a corner and into a room you've never seen before. The door was designed differently from the other entries in the castle, it was larger. Hyunjin quickly shut it behind you and seemed to relax a little. His shoulders visibly relaxed and he took a deep breath, eyes closed.

After admiring the room, it was small. Just about half the size of a classroom but still enough room to not feel suffocated. The room was a little plain but had furniture in the middle, just a couple love seats and a coffee table. After deciding it wasn't anything special except for a lounge room, you looked to Hyunjin. You took a step towards him, "Hyunjin?"

He opened his eyes and distanced himself from the door to walk past you and sunk into one of the chairs. He motioned for you to sit across from him. And you did, waiting patiently for him to explain.

"Um...so nothings really wrong. But…" he began but trailed off soon after. As if he wasn't quite sure what to say. He folded his hands in front of him and looked to his feet.

“Then what was that all about?” You leaned forward, concerned and not quite sure of yourself. “You suddenly rushed out of the library, half-pulled me through the castle, and now we’re in a room I never knew even existed in Hogwarts.”

“Oh! About that, this is called the Room of Requirement.” Hyunjin gained a little more confidence. Seemingly to stall the inevitable conversation, he was so desperately trying to avoid. “It only appears to students who need it, and it changes depending on what the need is. And right now...I just needed a private space to talk.”

You nodded, still confused, “So it just...appears sometimes?”

“Exactly.” Hyunjin nodded and fell silent.

It stayed silent, and you just looked at him expectantly. He avoided eye contact and looked uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and fiddling with his hands.

“Hey Hyunjin…” You called, and in the most comforting voice you could, “you don’t have to tell me now if it’s this distressing for you. It’s okay, as long as you’re comfortable and when you calm dow-”

“No no, I... I want to.” He interrupted you and shook his head, but he still looked unsure of himself. Despite that, he composed himself better and calmed down. “I’m just...nervous? Maybe I’m scared.”

“You sound like you don’t know.” You said quietly.

“I’m the reason why the Amortentia isn’t working.” He said, eyes avoiding you and palms sweaty.

“Is that all?” You seemed dumbfounded, “Hyunjin, if that’s the problem then that's okay! It’s not that big of a deal, this is only a bonus project and even then, it’s not like we were going to use it anyway.”

“No no, there’s more to it. So much more.” He said delicately, choosing his words carefully. “I…”

His eyebrows furrowed as if he wasn’t sure how to continue his train of thought. He tilted his head and continued, “Do you know what happens when a child is conceived under the effects of Amortentia?”

You nodded, “Yea, the child won’t be able to feel love. That’s why Voldemort...couldn’t.”

Hyunjin frowned but nodded. “That’s right. The child can’t feel love. That-that doesn’t mean they’re inherently evil, but the feeling of love just doesn’t come to them.”

“Okay, but why did you bring this up? Voldemort’s be dead for decades.” You were thoroughly confused now. Was Hyunjin concerned about the consequences of brewing this potion? Was the potion being brewed wrong? What did he read?

“Well, turns out...if a person who was conceived under Amortentia, tries to brew it, it won’t work. The Amortentia will have the opposite effect instead...not ‘love,’ but disgust. And it turns a green color...” Hyunjin explained, much calmer now, but the nervous glint in his eyes were still present. His long fingers were fidgety and you noticed his Adam's apple bob.

“Wait, but our potion is…” Your eyes widened in realization, and your lips formed an o shape. Your eyes quickly turned sympathetic. “Oh Hyunjin…"

You quickly reassured him that it was okay and went to sit beside him. You took his one hand and held it between your own, your thumb rubbing reassuring circles over his skin. While his palms were a little shaky, he calmed down a little and proceeded to steady his breathing. Hyunjin finally got the courage to look at you, he lifted his head gently as he gauged you from behind his fringe. And you smiled, your eyes showed kindness and acceptance. You realized this explained so much about him. This was why he didn’t smell anything in the Amortentia, why he felt so cold at times, and why he wasn’t close to many people.

Hyunjin visibly relaxed, “I was afraid that you’d think I’m a monster.”

“Never, Hyunjin, I could never think that.”

“You’re unique then...most people do.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pulled together, a sad look crossed his face as his lips tugged down. He was reminiscing, but they obviously weren’t happy memories.

You squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I don’t, and others shouldn’t either. Hyunjin, you are absolutely not a monster and people who think that just don’t understand. They...are not the end all be all.”

He nodded and smiled at you, “You know, I’m really glad I’ve met you… This might sound weird, but I don’t think I’ve felt this close to somebody before.”

“And what’s close to you?” You tilted your head, wondering what feelings he felt for you if not love.

“I can’t feel love, but it’s more like trust.” Hyunjin nodded to himself, his gaze towards the ground, “It’s like trust and safety. And I’m comfortable and happy. And well, it’s not like I don’t feel happy around our classmates, I think I get along with most people really well. But it’s kind of like...I couldn’t care less about them. And I don’t say that like I don’t see them as people, I do. But to get myself to care about them and what goes on in their lives, I just don’t.”

“Then, how am I any different?” You asked, still curious about what you did differently.

And Hyunjin only shrugged, “I just feel more comfortable with you, most people tend to say I’m cold when they try to get close to me. They would get offended that I don’t seem interested, but you just...treated me normally. You didn’t push anything and just treated me as you would anyone else. You did it with a kind heart too. I guess you could say you were very loving in a way. I think it’s something I want and seeing you in love helps me. It lets me see what being in love is like.”

“M-me, in love?” You stuttered, caught off guard at Hyunjin's sudden statement. You weren’t entirely sure what he was talking about. Maybe it was Seungmin, or perhaps it was that he noticed you were catching feelings for him. You really hoped he didn’t notice.

Hyunjin chuckled, but it sounded sad. “The relationship you have with your friend, that other Ravenclaw, Seungmin. It’s very wholesome, anybody could see the amount of love and care the two of you have for each other. It’s natural and simplistic and... I don’t know. I guess I get a little jealous.”

Feeling your face redden in embarrassment just made you even more nervous. As your heart thumped loudly, you laughed nervously. And you tried to wave off Hyunjin’s words. “How do you know I love Seungmin? He’s my best friend, of course, I love him but-”

“Remember when you were sleep talking the other day?” Hyunjin’s devilish grin made your stomach drop. He was implying that...no.

“What did I say, I swear to god if you say anything to anybody you are a dead man.”

“Just that you’ve been wanting a date with the one and only Kim Seungmin at Hogsmeade. That’s all.” He teased. Which was conflicting since he seemed much more comfortable now, but he took the liberty to tease the hell out of you.

Immediately you covered your face and buried your head in your hands. Every time you attempt to confront your feelings for Seungmin, you get too confused and flustered. So you just tended to not dwell on it, mainly since it could ruin the friendship. You didn’t want that.

“Sorry sorry,” Hyunjin was very amused and ruffled your hair up, “I’ll stop, but only because if I continue, you’d shut down completely.”

You grumbled and rolled your eyes, “You’re not wrong.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and you thought about what Hyunjin must’ve gone through in his life, it definitely couldn’t have been easy. He was scared to tell you, and you could only imagine what happened to him before to make him that nervous. It made you a little sad. You also thought about what he said about feeling jealous. He obviously wants to feel love, he wants to love somebody but physically can’t. All because of some stupid love potion. If there was a way to help him, you would.

“Hey,” Hyunjin called out gently, “what’s it like?”

“Hm?”

“What’s it like to love somebody?”

“Oh, well, it’s probably the most comforting feeling I know. And when you’re with them, the world seems a little brighter. You focus on the little things they do, and it just makes you fall even more in love, you just can’t look away. You just feel like you’re on cloud nine and you don’t want to come down. They’re on your mind a lot, and it’s a little stressful. But only because you want the best for them and for them to be happy. I would die for somebody I loved.” You thought hard and soon after the words just spilled from your mouth, you thought about your family and friends as you described it. Trying to put it into words as best as you could. And Hyunjin only nodded thoughtfully, otherwise staying silent.

“People care about you Hyunjin, I care about you.” You urged, “I hope you remember that.”

“I will, I promise y/n.”

∎∎∎

Back in the potions room, you and Hyunjin were attempting to fix the Amortentia. And he, of course, asked for mint gum.

“Okay, so, as long as I don’t touch it anymore, it should come out okay.” Hyunjin was reading the textbook, “The potion should go back to normal by the time it’s finished.”

“Sounds great.” You stirred the green Amortentia, the color was a far cry from the pearly sheen it was supposed to have. But you were going to trust Hyunjin on this and just continue brewing. So you threw in another ingredient and just went with it. “So, what now?”

Hyunjin shrugged, “Let’s play a game. Truth or Dare?”

You perked up, your lips tugged up, “Absolutely. But you can’t say no to dares anymore, got it?”

He grimaced for a split second, nose scrunching up, “Ah fine, but that rule applies to you too.”

You flashed him a toothy grin, “Easy.”

And you played. Usually, truth or dare with only two people wasn’t that fun, but Hyunjin seemed to enjoy it. And while you guys played, he asked about muggle things as you both chewed on mint gum. It was simple and it was fun, just like how it’s always been when you were with Hyunjin. You laughed as you finally got Hyunjin to participate in the dares he originally refused to do. And Hyunjin got a kick out of teasing the hell out of you. A while passed and the atmosphere calmed down a bit, it was your turn.

“Truth or Dare.”

“Um...dare.” You smiled.

Hyunjin got quiet as he thought, then a mischievous grin pulled at his lips. “Kiss me.”

“....?” You stared at him as you try to remember if you heard that right. “I... sorry what?”

“I dare you,” Hyunjin repeated as if talking to a child, the teasing glint in his eyes, “to kiss me.”

“You’re kidding,” you whined, and your cheeks began to heat up, “you’re just teasing me…”

“No, well, yes. But it’s your rule.” Hyunjin seemed to be serious about this, “You can’t back down now.”

Your eyes trailed down to his lips, then snapped back up to his eyes. Completely unaware of what his goals for this were, you were pouting and felt conflicted. On one hand, you were catching feelings for this boy, and they were getting stronger by the day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss him. But on the other hand, you also didn’t know why he wanted to kiss you, and there was that tiny little voice that reminded you about Seungmin. It was at the back of your conscious but it spoke up and let itself be known. You felt your palms beginning to grow sweaty and your mouth dry up, your leg began to bounce.

Hyunjin noticed your hesitation and took your hand in his, he scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around you. He was incredibly close to you now, and as he leaned down, he was closing the distance. You were hip to hip, his one hand holding yours and the other pulled you closer. Your heart felt as if it were beating out of your chest and you were positive your ears were as red as an apple. His eyes locked onto yours, “I’ll make this easier for you, but you can’t back down. Okay?”

You swallowed nervously and fluttered your eyelashes as you looked up at him and nodded. You mumbled a quick agreement before pressing your lips to his, bringing your one hand up to cup his cheek. You were nervous, but Hyunjin was comforting for you. His touch was gentle as he held you and kissed back. The kiss was soft and delicate. Your lips moved together in just the right way. And when you finally pulled back for a breather, Hyunjin leaned back in for more. Prolonging the kiss and tightening his grip on your waist. Your hand moved to the base of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. The kiss became deeper and more fervent, the delicate touches were replaced. And you stayed like that, relishing the sudden development in your relationship, neither of you seemingly wanting to let go.

And when you finally did, you pressed your forehead against his, breathing heavily. Your eyes were on his lips, one of his best features in your opinion. Hyunjin chuckled lightly, “I enjoyed that.”

He got your attention, and you looked up into his warm eyes, and you smiled back. “Me too.”

In Hyunjin's arms, you basked in the aftermath of the kiss, and you realized one thing. Your heart was captured by this boy, and he wasn’t going to give it back. This gentle, sensitive, amazing boy had your heart now, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. After weeks of slowly building your feelings up, he swept it from your hands and held it carefully. As you locked eyes with Hyunjin, all your feelings were communicated to him. Feelings of love, caring, and understanding. Hyunjin understood completely, and as if a final promise to you, to keep your heart safe with him, he pressed his warm lips to your forehead. A sweet, gentle kiss to protect you as best he could. And you would like to believe Hyunjin gave a piece of himself to you as well.

And then you understood. Your heart was too far gone to go back to the way it was before.

a/n: WOW it’s finally done, and it’s only part one hahahaha. I have a lot planned for this and i reaaaaally love this. I hope yall love it as well, it took a lot of effort. And I’m kinda glad I got it out near Christmas, kinda like a gift :)

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jphbk1982 · 3 years

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Chapters: 6/? Fandom: World Wrestling Entertainment, Professional Wrestling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Indi Hartwell/Dexter Lumis | Samuel Shaw Characters: Indi Hartwell, Dexter Lumis | Samuel Shaw, Candice LeRae, Johnny Gargano, Austin Theory Summary:

Indi Hartwell finds something that makes her rethink how she is feeling with Dexter Lumis. What will it change? If she takes a chance how will it end up?

Link above or read the chapter below.

The Choice

Indi could not take her eyes off Dexter as he effortlessly carried her down the small flight of stairs directly behind the NXT stage. He kept sneaking glances at her as well with every few steps. So unlike him, yet so tantalizing to Indi. She felt her heart skip nearly every time he did so.

They were nearing the locker room now and Indi wondered at what point Dexter would volunteer to sit her down. Would he ever? Did she want him to? She peeled her eyes from him to see him approaching her locker room door. Realizing this Indi shook her head. She had no desire to walk in and face her family at this moment.

Dexter stopped in his tracks and cocked his head slightly at her. She nodded for him to continue on. After a second of scanning her face with wandering eyes, he eventually settled them straight ahead and continued walking.

Indi glanced up to see him leading them past a few more locker rooms, including a larger communal one shared by many of the Talent. He rounded a corner and approached a grey door at the end of the hallway. Indi was sure she had never even been in this part of the building before. She felt Dex shift his arms slightly so he could hold her with one arm and open the door with the other.

Indi was gonna offer to let him put her down, but before she could say a word he had moved them swiftly through the doorway and down a little hallway that curved to the right. Once they rounded that it was obvious to Indi what this area was. It was a very tiny locker room. It looked like originally it was designed to just be a restroom but had at some point been converted.

Indi glanced over to see a gym bag sitting on a small bench located right up next to a sink. She recognized it as Dexter’s as she glanced around to see more evidence of him. Some of his trademark boots lined neatly under the sink and gloves piled neatly on the back of the porcelain.

Dexter walked her over to stand in front of the bench and gently lowered her to her feet. She was still glancing around the small room and noticed at the far end of the room was a shower stall with a crude makeshift curtain halfway pulled in front of it. She barely noticed Dexter had moved over and retrieved the bag off the floor.

Indi watched as he shuffled into the bag to retrieve a black tank top and a neatly folded light blue pair of jeans. He studied the clothing in his hands momentarily before gently draping them over the edge of an empty shelf on the wall next to the sink. He then went about removing his gloves.

Indi was mesmerized by him. She honestly felt a little drunk from the events that had just transpired. Her heartbeat was still readily noticeable as it thumped much more rapidly than usual inside of her chest. She sat down on the bench behind her to collect herself.

Just a few short minutes ago Indi had chosen to defy the stipulation of the “Love Her or Lose Her” match. Defy might have been an understatement as she felt her cheeks flush red as images of Dexter beneath her began to flood her mind. She was smiling at the thought and barely noticed Dexter was now standing in front of her slightly bending over to get her attention.

“Hey…” Indi said after she managed to clear her throat and find her voice. His facial expression lightened considerably at the sound of her voice.

She watched as he lifted an arm and pointed in the direction of the shower and then gestured down to his still bare chest. That was where her eyes caught as she tried to read his gestures. After a moment she understood.

“Oh… do you want me to give you some privacy?” Indi asked. She watched as Dexter walked over and tugged gently at the curtain in front of the shower and shrugged his shoulders. She understood that to mean he was fine with her staying. She nodded. He held her gaze for just the briefest of seconds before disappearing behind the curtain.

Indi’s gaze was transfixed on the curtain as she heard the water start and the slightest bit of steam rose over the top of the blue fabric. She felt a smile forming on her face as she considered her current predicament.

She never knew Dexter had his own little makeshift locker room tucked away in the recesses of the building, and she could never imagine she would now be sitting alone with him inside of it. She lowered her eyes for a moment with a sheepish smile coming over her face. She raised her eyes again when she saw the curtain rustle ever so slightly.

A muscular and tattooed arm emerged from behind the curtain as it gestured to the wall across from where Indi sat. She followed the point and saw a bottle of shampoo sitting on the shelf. Instantly she understood what was happening and hopped up to grab the bottle. She started to approach the outstretched hand, fast at first but then the butterflies in her stomach began to feel so heavy they were weighing her down.

Indi’s breathing had become slow and a bit shallow as she tentatively reached out the bottle to Dexter’s outstretched hand. It touched his fingers and he fumbled slightly trying to understand how to grip it. She took her other hand and used it to gently help him with his dilemma. She gripped the bottle and she found it even harder to unclasp her hands from his.

Indi finally untangled herself from him and her line of sight followed his arm as it disappeared behind the curtain. She caught the briefest glimpse of his eyes looking back out at her before the gap in the curtain closed completely. She almost couldn’t stop the happy laugh that came out of her as she turned and walked over to examine herself in the mirror in front of the sink.

Indi went about tightening the band on her hair and fluffing it out a little as she leaned in and studied her lipstick. She was pleasantly surprised to find very little smudging despite the events previous in the evening. She locked eyes with herself in the mirror and felt a wave of happiness wash over her.

Despite the uncertainty of what her decision might lead to. Indi knew she had made the right choice. The expression staring back at her indicated very clearly to her this was the case.

The noise of the curtain moving back got Indi’s full attention as she turned to see Dexter stepping out having fully dressed behind the curtain sans his tanktop. She smiled at his still-wet hair. She had never seen Dexter with his hair, not in its usual style. It was longer than she had imagined. His slipping of the shirt over his head broke her gaze.

Dexter approached her slowly and she felt her pulse quicken again. Her eyes were darting back and forth searching in his blue pools to garner his intentions. He stopped mere inches from her. She tentatively placed her hand over his own heart to feel it too was beating just as fast as hers… in fact, it seemed to beat in time with hers.

They stood that way for several moments, neither willing to break the eye contact until finally, Dexter gestured behind her to the mirror. She glanced back and then to him as he reached up and tousled his hair a little. The gesture made her laugh, and to her delight, the corner of his mouth crept into a smile. She stepped aside and allowed him to move in front of the mirror. He reached into his bag for the materials needs to fix his hair in its trademark style.

Indi was lost in her thoughts again as he concentrated on his task. It was here she began to wonder about everything. She was sure she had made the right decision. The only thing she wasn’t sure about is what the decision actually was… if that made any sense. A shrug of her shoulders proceeded her leaning back on the wall so she could watch Dexter work through the reflection in the mirror.

Indi knew at some point she would have to face Johnny and Candice. At some point, people would want to ask her questions. She was pretty sure her phone was already blowing up tucked away in her bag in her locker room. She almost didn’t care if she even looked at it until she could understand everything that was happening.

Indi had chosen to run to Dexter. In fact, there was no real choice to be made. When she saw how valiantly he fought for her. How he only lost the match at all because of showing concern for her. And most of all the look on his face when she was being ushered away from him. No, it wasn’t really even a choice, her body just naturally pushed her to him. Into his arms. It was physically hurting her to move farther up the ramp from him.

Indi lowered her head but kept her gaze on Dexter as her thoughts continue to whirl in her head. She caught him glancing at her through the mirror and she straightened up again. She was the one cocking her head slightly now as she studied his features and expression.

Dexter was an enigma. A mystery. No one could deny that, not even her. Yet somehow none of that ever scared her. None of that seemed forbidden, even when to others his life seemed to come with a perpetual “Danger” sign hanging across his neck. She never saw that. No, to her Dexter wasn’t a question. He was an answer. He wasn’t a caution sign. He was inviting.

Dexter straightened up and cocked turned his head from side to side in the mirror to examine his hair. He glanced back at Indi and raised his eyebrows.

“It looks good,” Indi answered, understanding completely what he was looking for. She always somehow knew. She didn’t even know how she knew. She couldn’t explain it if she tried.

She watched as he went about neatly placing everything back in his bag and lifting it with one hand and turning to her. He held that position directly opposite her for a few seconds before walking over to the door and pushing it open. He turned back to her.

Indi closed the distance between them and followed him close out the door. He started to walk slowly in front of her and she glanced down at his free hand. She did a little hop step to close the distance and placed her hand directly into his. The action prompted him to slow down considerably as he turned his head to see her smiling back at him.

He returned the smile and they walked hand and hand down the hallway, past the locker rooms, until they reached hers. She gently tugged at his hand to get him to stop. He did so and turned to her.

��I better get my phone,” Indi stated, gesturing to the door. He nodded and stepped out of the Way. Indi crinkled her nose at the thought of an angry Johnny and Candice on the other side of the door. She took a deep breath, glanced up at Dexter who seemed to understand. She then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“WHAT was that?!” Johnny’s voice immediately filled the room and Indi cringed. He was standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. He clearly hadn’t even showered and had probably been pacing the room the whole time. Candice was sitting behind him looking dejected.

“Listen… I…” Indi started to speak.

“What are you thinking?” Johnny interrupted her with outstretched hands.

“Johnny… I just…” Indi searched her thoughts for an answer. “I just had to.”

“Had to?!” Johnny shook his head back as if he had just been shocked. One of his usual dramatic flares. “You didn’t have to do anything.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Indi replied.

“No… no… clearly I am not cuckoo bananas so I don’t understand how you could…” Johnny began.

“Stop, Johnny,” Candice’s voice came from behind Johnny prompting him to turn to her. Indi’s eyebrows raised upon hearing her.

“What…?” Johnny was confused.

“Let’s just not do this now, not tonight,” Candice shrugged moving her eyes from Johnny over to Indi.

“We can talk some other time?” Indi suggested.

“Yes, some other time,” Candice agreed as she implored Johnny with her eyes to let it go.

“Fine, I gotta shower,” Johnny threw his hands up and walked away.

Indi walked over to her bag that was sitting on the bench next to Candice. She reached inside for her phone, it was all she needed currently. Candice’s hand on her wrist prompted her to turn to her mother figure.

“Just be careful, we really just want what is best for you,” Candice’s words were quiet.

“I will…” Indi replied with a nod as she grabbed her phone and backed up and out of the room.

She turned to see Dexter was waiting patiently for her seemingly deep in thought. She smiled at his profile as he glanced at her out of his side-eye. He turned his head fully to her and nodded toward her locker room door.

“They will come around… I hope,” Indi replied with a shrug before she found his hand again with hers and they continued to make their way out of the hallway to the locker rooms and into the larger common area. It was there she saw many of her colleagues going their various ways. Many stopped and took notice of the two holding hands. Many smiled, which made Indi happy and blush slightly.

She glanced up to see Dexter paying them no mind as he led them toward the exit and out into the warm night air. He held the door for her and then they walked in step to the parking lot. They reached his car and stopped.

Dexter watched Indi expectantly as she moved to stand directly in front of him. She glanced over her shoulder at her car at the end of the lot before turning back to face him.

“I um… I don’t really want the night to end,” Indi confessed honestly. He cocked his head slightly at her before glancing up at the sky for a moment and then to his car.

A slight pat on the hood of his car was enough.

“I’d love to,” Indi replied as she hurriedly made her way over to the passenger side of his car and hopped in. Soon he was seated next to her. He was clearly waiting for her instructions. “Take me home?”

Dexter raised his eyes slightly as if the words were almost foreign to him. Maybe they were, Indi considered. She leaned closer to him. And he turned to face her more.

“Your home... Is that okay?” Indi asked. She studied him for a response. At first, he was stoic, before finally raising a hand and gently caressing the side of her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into it. She opened them to see him nodding at her before moving in and placing a kiss on her forehead.

Indi had made the right choice, indeed.

#indi hartwell #dexter lumis #index #nxt #fic

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true--north · 3 years

Text

Junior Deluxe Novelisation. The book has discrepancies with the canon, and it is a little raw material, which in the existing movie has acquired a more refined and perfected form. Nevertheless, there are interesting details in the book.

From the very beginning, Little Elsa was keenly interested in the world of the spirits and Ahtohallan, as if she felt her kinship with them.

“What would the spirits think of my magic?” Elsa asked, glancing up at her mother.

“When I was little, my mother would sing a song about a special river called Ahtohallan, which was said to hold all the answers about the past,” she said. “About what we are a part of.”

“Mother?” Elsa said as the queen touched the door of the room. “Do you think Ahtohallan knows why I have magical power?”

Elsa leaned heavily into her pillow. “Someone should really try to find it.”

Queen Iduna’s smile was bittersweet as she stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

With the echo of her mother’s lullaby in her ears, Elsa drifted off to sleep. She dreamed about finding Ahtohallan, and learning the answer to every question she’d ever had…and the answers to some of her sister’s questions, too.

On the day of the autumn festival, Elsa and Kristoff saw off the overseas guests, Kristoff told them about reindeer and showed Sven. After that, Elsa went to work in the library, and Kristoff went to the city to order a suit. Anna helped with the decoration of the city, and went to the garden to find the largest pumpkin as a symbol of the harvest.

Elsa liked to be alone, to let her magic be free.

“This was where she went when she had to release extra energy. Whoever or whatever the voice was that had spoken to her in its wordless melody had filled her with more energy and magic than she’d ever felt before.Elsa threw out her arms and let magic shoot from her fingers at full force. Ice and snow filled the air in front of her, then crashed into the fjord. Elsa turned and covered her face, chuckling as water splashed all around her."

Elsa dreamed of the Forest and the young Agnarr and Iduna.

In the eighth and ninth chapters, Elsa thinks that if she allows herself to be herself and answering the Voice, going into the unknown, then it can again "mess things up" and somehow to harm her loved ones: "a voice into something unknown that might take them away from her."

However, "Though she would never admit it, deep down she felt she wasn’t meant to be queen. Every day, as she felt her power grow stronger, it became a little harder for her to deny her doubts and fears, which grew stronger every day. Maybe the mysterious voice knew that and wanted to help her. Elsa decided to answer it, echoing its call."

"Elsa realized she didn’t want it to leave her. She wanted to follow the call into the unknown. She let her arms fall to her sides and looked at the sky, surrendering herself and her power to the voice."

On the night of the Awakening, Kristoff actively helped residents get out of the city, transported children on Sven.

"He stayed in the rear, aiding those who couldn’t keep up.

Working together, Anna and Elsa finally got everyone to the top of the cliffs over the fjord. When Anna looked back for Kristoff, she was happy to see that he was near".

And yes, Anna was too protective, as if she was Elsa's mother.

“If I recall, your powers have mostly just gotten you into trouble. Protecting you has been my job.”

Grand Pabbie nodded in agreement. “She does have a point.”

Anna smiled at the troll. “Thank you.” Then she turned to her sister. “I’m coming.”

Kristoff chose that moment to enter the conversation.

“Me too,” he added, not wanting to be left out of an adventure. “I’ll drive.”

“I’ll bring the snacks!” Olaf said as the wind twirled him past them, the crystals that clung to him sparkling in the moonlight.

Elsa was reluctant to accept, but as she looked between Anna and Kristoff, she knew her only choice was to agree."

"Elsa’s confidence had grown when she realized the full extent of what she could do with her magic. It wasn’t until after Anna had sacrificed herself for Elsa, because of the true love she felt for her sister, that Elsa finally embraced the truth. Her magic wasn’t a curse. It wasn’t meant to hurt people. Elsa could do more than build snowmen and make beautiful icy patterns. She had constructed a magnificent ice palace that still stood strong today. Her magic was, and always had been, a gift."

"Forest was hidden behind the haze and the rolling particles of colored lights that flashed like lightning bugs as they danced through the mist. Elsa’s heart raced, and she couldn’t resist the pull she felt any longer. She quickly climbed down the side of the cliff, and the others followed."

"But Elsa quickly realized the Wind Spirit was no longer being aggressive.

The group immediately stood around her, ready to protect her.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” she told them.

Gale held Elsa aloft for only a few moments before setting her gently on her feet. Elsa smiled. The Wind Spirit’s energy had lifted her mood and made her feel ready to take on any obstacle that came her way."

"The Northuldra and the Arendellians gathered to take a moment to recognize how important life is and how grateful they should be for each day. As music filled the air, everyone enjoyed warm drinks and bowls of steaming stew."

"Anna was surprised by Elsa’s promise. It was a vow for her sister to keep, not the two of them. Something in her stomach twisted."

“They left?” Anna asked, confused. “Just…just left? Without saying anything?” What could be so important that Kristoff would leave me behind?

Olaf shrugged. “Who knows the ways of men?” He turned and followed Elsa.

Anna glanced back at her sister, getting farther away with each second. Anna didn’t want to leave without Kristoff. But she’d promised to keep Elsa safe.

She raced off and caught up with Olaf. Elsa was ahead of them, pushing through the forest with determination, always aware of the potential dangers all around. Anna did her best to hold her head up and not cry. And when Olaf reached his hand up to her, she gladly took it.”

The shipwreck scene was longer, Elsa saw three statues of Iduna and Agnarr.

One where they danced. Where they were sitting at a table over a map. And their last moment.

“Ahtohallan has to be the source of her magic,” said the distant, distorted voice of the girls’ mother in a memory from long before.

“If we know why Elsa has powers, we can help her,” their father said."

“Do you really think the past can save Elsa’s future?” her father asked.

“No,” her mother replied, “but I think understanding what she’s a part of can.”

The waves are too high,” Queen Iduna said.

“We keep going for Elsa,” King Agnarr replied as a wave crashed onto the deck. “Id una!”

“Agnarr!” she shouted back.

“I love you!” he cried.

“I love you!” she answered."

"Elsa shivered as she looked at the glacier ahead of her. Ahtohallan, the secret river from Mother’s lullaby. It’s real, she thought. There was something about it that seemed so…familiar. She wondered if the familiarity came from the calling of the voice, or from the connection of magic. Because of how the colored lights twinkled and danced around the entrance to Ahtohallan, she knew it was full of magic."

Elsa boldly stepped into the opening of the ice cave, instantly feeling like she was finally where she was meant to be."

"She didn’t tremble anymore. She just needed the voice to show her where she belonged."

It is especially emphasized that Elsa is a gift for Iduna's act, and Ahtohallan rewarded Elsa with memories of her mother, because Elsa proved, after passing the tests, that she is worthy of being the Fifth Spirit.

"The dome above her instantly illuminated with memories, but this time they were sharp and crystal clear. Perhaps it was a reward."

"As Elsa sang along in harmony with the memory of Iduna, she began to transform into who she was always meant to be. Her dress spun around her body, and her hair fell loose and wildly untamed. A crown of vines and leaves adorned her head as the other elements swirled around her—air, fire, water, and earth. Elsa had transformed into the element Honeymaren had spoken of."

"Anna melted into Kristoff’s embrace, unable to hold back her tears.

But the tears weren’t for herself, or for the predicament she had been in. They were for everything she had lost that day…Elsa, Olaf, and now her beloved Arendelle."

"Anna stopped before she reached her sister. It looked like her, but she was different."

"Elsa smiled in a way that let Anna know she had found that and more. And then it hit her. Anna had always known that Elsa was special, that she had always been meant for something more, something greater."

The sisters looked into each other’s eyes, and a shared understanding passed between them. Anna was humbled by what Elsa was asking of her, but thrilled to have the opportunity.

“Together,” Anna agreed.

“I’d like to return these philosophy books, please,” Olaf said. “Seeing as I am at peace with the idea of change, and just so happened to have found the meaning of life, I won’t be needing them for a while.”

“You found the meaning of life,” the librarian said, intrigued. “Well, do tell!”

“Oh, sorry,” Olaf said, “but each person really needs to find that for him—or herself."

"Kai, the royal handler, stood outside the royal tent. Trumpets announced that someone important was approaching. “Presenting Her Majesty…Queen Anna of Arendelle.”

But when the curtains parted, no one was there.

“When should I go?” said Anna. “Now? Right now? Okay.” She peeked around the tent flap at the crowd and then stepped out, nervous and excited.

Her face lit up with gratitude and love when the crowd cheered for her. She greeted each person by name as she passed them."

The memorial was different.

"When they were both in their places, Anna nodded, and they pulled the cords. The curtain fell, revealing a bronze sculpture of young Iduna in the wind saving young Agnarr.

The crowd cheered, and Anna couldn’t hold back the tears that flooded her eyes.

“Our land and people, now connected by love,” she announced to everyone."

"Elsa was exactly where she was meant to be…totally free and in her element."

#junior deluxe novelisation #frozen 2

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kbokbok · 3 years

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Whumptastic 1st Draft of that Madatobi fic where Tobi breaks his leg

Tobirama could feel his tibia grind with every leap, even as he attempted to limit the weight on it as they passed through the trees. It was almost as distracting as the heartbeat in his ears, the last of his chakra puffed up in a shroud to disguise how far his energy had dwindled. His half of the team were just ahead, the two Uchiha (Saburo and Satoru) taking lead, Senju Yoshi in the center of their formation cradling the arm that Tobirama had had to reattach on the fly. Yoshi had done well controlling his panic—the first dismemberment was always a shock to the system, and the…removal of the limb had been quite messy.

He’d had to be stern with the boy to get him still, then again to get him moving after the skin and vascular system had been tacked together enough to stabilize. All three teammates had been quite disturbed at the end result (twisted, floppy, elongated, which was so sloppy but there was no time) and the brisk orders to move out, but Tobirama could sense the unexpected reinforcements coming and he was on the edge of becoming a liability himself.

They needed to reconvene with the others, and Tobirama needed to figure out a way to inconspicuously support his leg, or the fibula would snap and he may end up with a complex fracture, which would be more difficult to hide. They were three days from the village, he was already courting chakra exhaustion without wasting anymore on healing himself.

They were late to the rendezvous point, greeted by their five teammates who looked remarkably unscratched. This was the first planned, cooperative mission between the two clans. Hashirama would have replaced Tobirama, but there were levels of overkill that no one could overlook.

Yoshi immediately went to his older cousin for sympathy, rather than the Uchiha medic. The boy was seventeen, but when he whined like that it was like he was five again. No matter, Yuji had him under his wing, tossing one sharp look Tobirama’s way when he got a good look at his brother’s arm and called the medic over himself.

Yoshi was taken care of and the two Uchiha were talking with their clan head, body language stiff. They were not twenty feet away, but the blood gusting by his ears would not cease as he tried to corral frantic thoughts into methodological actions. Tobirama could not move without it becoming immediately apparent to anyone with eyes that he was weak, so he stayed in the same spot he had leapt down from the trees from.

Tobirama knew that fur around his shoulders betrayed his labored breathing, so he controlled it. He knew that anxiety had dilated his pupils, so he ruthlessly cranked the supposedly involuntary function back to normal parameters. He knew that his stance was lopsided, but if he put another ounce of weight on that fibula it would give way, which would be worse. He knew all these things and he watched as his co-team leader approached.

“Our intel was wrong about the balance of forces,” Tobirama began, guiding the conversation. “The western side had seven well-trained men, and four more to assist. What was the situation on the north end?”

“What we expected, twelve on the field, a mix of decent and pretty decent.” This was Madara’s way of saying enemies that he had to pay attention to defeat, vs those that he could fell almost instantly. Madara and Hashirama were truly on a different level than the rest of the shinobi world. “Your kunoichi got in and out fine.” His tone did not match his words.

Tobirama stiffened, his eyes focused on the treeline. Complication. He counted again the chakra signatures in the clearing—he had taken special care that the two Uchiha he had been trusted with were returned in good working order, whatever scuffs they’d accumulated. Madara’s team were all in good health, with good chakra supply.

Madara took a step that put him within arms-reach, and Tobirama tensed all the way down to his toes so he wouldn’t flinch. The boy—man, he’s been a clan head for almost a year—stilled, then took a step back. “What do you need here? Would it be better if I had the other Senju come to you?”

It wasn’t just blood gushing in his ears, there were klaxons and his vision was tunneling. “I’m fine to move on when the rest of the team—“

Madara made a sound of protest, and all of a sudden he had a grip on both of Tobirama’s biceps. “Sage, don’t—don’t put more weight on that leg, Tobirama. Okay? Can you trust me?”

Tobirama squinted through his dimming vision. “What?” Of course he trusted Madara. He’d trusted him with Hashirama, starting years and years ago, while they were still at war. He’s trusted him with the lives of so many Senju, and with secrets. This, here, now had nothing to do with trust. This had to do with Tobirama being too damnably, intransigently weak. How could anyone trust Tobirama if he faltered?

Madara stared down at the limp man between his two hands, trying not to feel gutted. As Tobirama finally lost consciousness, his chakra deflated from the odd, misty configuration he’d had it in. Tobirama knew he was a sensor. Did he think Madara wouldn’t notice his signature change so drastically, all to hide exhaustion? That he was favoring his leg? His pulse leaping in his throat like he was in mortal danger? ‘Tobirama really doesn’t trust me at all.’

“Kota, here!” Madara called, making sure that Tobirama’s head rested on his fur as he laid him out on the ground. The rest would be crowding around in a moment; Uchiha were irredeemable snoops to a one. What he wasn’t expecting was the exasperated groan from the others—the Senju. Kota went to work scanning over Tobirama, as Madara turned his attention to the trio of shinobi still at the center of the clearing.

“Again?” Yuji complained as he held his brother’s arm in place against his chest. “Didn’t Hashirama-sama make it a law?”

“What, you think that would stop our ghost?” Yoshi joked, though it was strained. His temporarily reattached limb was really…stomach-turning at the moment. The sweat beading on his forehead could be from pain, but Madara wouldn’t blame him if it was purely a psychological reaction to seeing his own arm like…that. It would remain minimally attached until they returned to a healing hall, or ran into Hashirama. “Besides, the elders refused to let it pass, something about being unenforcible. I think they just didn’t want it on the books because it was embarrassing.”

“No,” Chiyo drawled even as she wound bandages efficiently around him. “They tried to block it, but it went through. Tree-sama repealed it again when Tobi-sensei stopped going to the hall so he wouldn’t get caught.”

Yuji actually guffawed at that, his brother sniggering. “Sage, at least it makes sense why he went horror-heal on your arm.”

Madara let slip just the teensiest fraction of killer intent, to wake the three Senju up to the Uchiha staring at them with confusion, shock, and—in one particular case—burgeoning rage on their faces. Just because Madara was hurt that Tobirama wouldn’t trust him with his weakness didn’t mean he could sit here and listen to them mock him as he lay helpless.

They froze. “Uhhhh.”

“What part of this is funny to you?”

“The part where Tobi-sensei keeps doing this?” Yoshi rushed, his normally low voice going quite high at the end. He looked shocked at Madara’s irritation, like he was being shouted at for stepping on an ant.

“Yeah he just…hides injuries. All the time.” Hands busy, Chiyo shrugged in surrender, hunching against the eyes turned her way. The girl was about sixteen, specialized to infiltration. “I can’t tell you how many times I’d see him collapse as soon as he got back in the gates and you’d hear something ridiculous later, like he’d had half the muscles severed in one leg and a cracked sternum he’d figured out how to brace with chakra.”

“I mean, he’s gotten better over the years? When we were kids, I can’t tell you how many times he got carried back unconscious. He was small enough that one of the uncles would just,” Yuji made a scooping motion with his free hand. “pick him up after the battle and haul him back like a noble with a favorite shitzu. He’d pass out on the way, but people put up with it because he counted as full grown man on the battle field and only weighed like fifty pounds. He mostly makes it back under his own steam nowadays.”

Yoshi peered over at their former regent. “So what’s the damage? Seventeen broken bones and a termite infestation?” he deadpanned.

“Crushed voice box, a brain bleed, and two torn hamstrings?”

“Blinded by acid and covered in porcupine quills?”

The Uchiha naturally found themselves falling into a guard formation around the fallen Senju. What the fuck was wrong with these people. “No, chakra exhaustion he got saving your arm and a broken leg.”

As one, the Senju frowned at one another, the levity leaving them. Finally.

“Is it at least the femur? Or all five bones, that could do it.” Chiyo asked tentatively, standing to approach.

What the fuck.

“Left tibia,” Kato bit out.

At that, the other stood and they all rushed over to peer down. “Are you sure you didn’t miss anything?”

“He shouldn’t be down for that. Internal bleeding, maybe?”

“There’s still like a henge’s worth of chakra in him.”

“Poison, could be poison.”

“It’s not poison, I know how to look for poison. And internal bleeds. People don’t need to lose every drop of chakra to be chakra exhausted, and your former head is damn close.”

The three Senju looked troubled, and Chiyo squatted to tentatively reach out and feel his cheek for temperature.

There was a moment of chaos when Tobirama bit her hand and tried to roll to his feet. Chiyo was swearing, Kota was cursing, Satoru was yelping—probably the only two silent were the man who shouldn’t be capable of moving and Madara, who had darted close to trap the White Demon in his arms, only to have the older man collapse again.

“Oh.” “Oh.” The Senju brothers stared down at the two entangled.

“Goddamnit, I’m going to lose the fucking bet.” Chiyo applied pressure to her hand, but it was barely bleeding.

“Explain.” Madara growled, cradling Tobirama in his arms. He was very reluctant to put him down again.

Yuji went to slap Madara on the back, then visibly reconsidered, lightly patting his shoulder. “Welcome to the Senju head family, sir. Our ghost gives out in exactly three circumstances—he reached home, he literally can’t go on, or he reached someone in the field he can rely on. That used to be just Touka! Even Hashirama-sama is hit-or-miss.”

‘Later,’ Madara thinks, ‘later I think I can be happy about that.’ Now was just a swirling miasma that was anger, worry, and something that wanted to be pity. He was familiar with black humor, but the casualness of these three random Senju—who had seemed like normal representatives of their clan until Tobirama fainted—joking about the severity and variety of injuries that Tobirama (beautiful, smart, funny, caring asshole that he loved, Tobirama) could make himself function through was trying his limited equanimity. “Let’s get ready to move out. Kota, what do you need for a splint? Satoru, help him. Yoshi, is you arm secured? Good, we’ll put you to the inside of the formation, you’ll swap with Chiyo. Sakiko, you’ll be in Tobirama’s position. Saburo, Yuji, make up the spacing Sakiko left. We’ll move as soon as Tobirama’s leg is braced.” All the shinobi burst into a flurry of activity, knowing this was their last chance to drink, bind up small hurts, and clean their weapons unless they wanted to do it on the run.

All the time, Madara crouched with his beloved tucked close to his chest, both windfall and burden. Tobirama hadn’t chosen to trust him, and Madara had never felt so conflicted about the competing motivations of comfort and greed that demanded he keep Tobirama close. Something in him was singing, “he needs me he needs me he needs me” on loop.

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

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I have a prompt - modern au where Nesta has a secret hobby which her sister don't know about that is singing. She likes to sing loudly . Then one day cassian who is the mysterious neighbour heard her singing and he joins her from his room . ( I hope u understand what I am trying to say my english is bad) i love your writing . 💐💐💐💐💐💐The librarian fic is awesome😻😻😻

Nesta jogged around the corner to her building, panting heavily as she finished her run. It’d been a week since her sister’s wedding, yet she felt like she was still working off all the calories she’d consumed.

Coming around the outside of her building, she jolted to a stop as she slammed into something.

Or rather, someone.

Nesta practically bounced backwards as she hit his chest, a solid wall of muscle and strength.

Yanking out her earbuds, she reared back to give the intruder a verbal smack down on invading someone’s space like that.

And paused.

Hot damn.

He was the most attractive man Nesta had ever seen.

Golden eyes creased with a mixture of concern and amusement met hers. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she nodded. “You should watch where you’re going.”

His dark eyebrows lifted, small smile pulling at his lips. “You ran into me, baby girl.”

Nesta just rolled her eyes. “Semantics.”

“I didn’t mind,” he assured her with a smirk. “But next time you throw yourself at me, you should really give me a little warning.”

She was definitely considering it as she re-examined the area she’d smacked herself into. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

Nesta swiped open the fob to her apartment complex and made to move past him but was halted by him swinging the door open and walking in ahead of her.

“Um, excuse me,” she called, grabbing his arm to stop him.

He looked back, full lips pulling into a grin as he eyed her hand on him. “Already trying to jump on me again?”

She knew she wasn’t exactly a threatening person, so she gave him her best scowl. “Non-residents can’t just walk in here. Someone has to come check you in.”

“You already checked me out.”

I’m going to smack him. “Check you in. Wait outside.”

“You’re bossy,” he pointed out, crossing his thick arms and evading her point again.

Nesta just flattened a look at him, and he laughed. “I live here, babe.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “No, you don’t. I know everyone who does.” She began to get nervous. If he was a serial killer, she’d have no way of fighting him off. He was tall and muscled and could probably kill her before she-

“I’m serious. I’m subletting from the Baylors in 3B.” He pulled out a key fob identical to hers.

“Since when?”

He started walking towards the stairs, leaving her forced to follow. She was in the middle of admiring his backside when he responded, “Since today. And stop staring at my ass.”

Unable to help it, Nesta laughed. And completely ignored his request as they walked up the stairs, both heading down the same hallway.

“Who’s following who, now?” he asked, turning around and leaning a shoulder against 3B’s door.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “I’m in 3A. We’re neighbors.”

His eyes went a bit molten as he looked her up and down. “That’s convenient.”

Oh, good gracious. “Good night.”

It was only 6 PM, but she didn’t care. If she didn’t get away from him, she was going to do something stupid.

He was apparently having similar thoughts. “Good night, neighbor. Feel free to knock on my door if you get lonely over there.”

Nesta unlocked her door and laughed, ignoring the flutter in her stomach as she visualized what would happen if she did just that.

Deciding to try and act like a normal female, she turned around, winked seductively, and closed the door between them.

Almost two hours later, she couldn’t stop picturing the look on his face before she’d shut the door. Desire, mixed with a dash of sexual promise, had filled his gaze. She suddenly wished she hadn’t shut the door at all.

Sweet sassy molassy, he was attractive. The kind of attractive where he probably got stopped on the street and asked to be on the cover of Men’s Health or something.

And he was right, it’d be pretty convenient to-

No.

Refrain yourself.

You have to live next to him.

If something happened between them, and it went poorly... not worth it. Even if he looked like sex on legs.

She sighed, resigning herself to a life of celibacy, and stepped under the shower steam. After a long week, it was a blessed feeling to finally relax.

Gradually unwinding, she hardly noticed as she began to sing. Nesta had never told anyone, but singing was her absolute favorite hobby. Even her sisters didn’t know.

She’d been tempted to tell them over the years, but Nesta knew that as soon as they found out, she’d suddenly be signed up for every competition show on Earth. And she really, really hated to sing in front of people.

Cutting her shower off, she wrapped a towel around her and went to scrounge up some dinner. Feeling much more upbeat, she switched to one of her favorite songs: Dangerous Woman.

She wasn’t nearly as talented as Ariana Grande, but she absolutely loved the song.

Nesta had just reached the crescendo of the song, belting out the lyrics, as she heard a rough, gravelly voice join in with hers.

From across the shared wall with 3B.

Laughter burst out of her as her brand new neighbor continued singing, practically screaming through the wall. Before she knew what was happening, she was yelling right back, going to the wall between their apartments and slapping it to the beat of the song.

They sounded awful.

Both of them were howling with laughter, screaming the lyrics, and pounding the wall.

He’d taken to singing the part of the instruments, too, and it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. By the time the song ended, Nesta could hardly breathe.

Not five seconds later, a knock sounded on her door.

She answered it, still laughing.

Her neighbor smiled down at her, eyes alight with humor. “I would’ve joined sooner, but I had to google the lyrics.”

“Not your song, huh?” Nesta grinned. “You’re fucking awful, by the way.”

“You make up for it, though. You’re really talented, neighbor.”

Secret’s out.

“I’m Nesta.”

“Cassian.”

They shook hands, and he held it for a bit longer than necessary as he murmured, “You know, I think you have to sing me to sleep at night now.”

Fuck it.

Rolling her eyes and looking him up and down, she replied. “In your apartment, or mine?”

________________________________________________________________

Wrote this in literally five minutes, so I’m sorry if there’s a ton of errors. Thank you for the ask, nonnie <3

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 5 years

Text

Ace of Spades

This beautiful cover art was drawn by the talented @corpsecro !

AN: I am so sorry.

Chapter 4- Cloak of Lies

The Van Eck manor, tucked between the cobbled streets of Ketterdam’s Financial District, stood tall in all its four-story residential glory.

Amongst the other identical alabaster homes, Jesper Fahey thought it looked like part of a set. Like how porcelain teacups came in sets of six; or how eight white pawns lined up neatly in front of the noble pieces before a game of chess.

Each house on the street was trimmed with white Corinthian columns and black iron gates. The hedges always even, the gardens always pristine. Houses in this part of Ketterdam lined the well-kept streets like dolls on a shelf.

Dolls on a shelf, he thought again with a snort, kicking a loose pebble in front of him.

Even at this young hour of the night, the street was quiet and bore no signs of trouble. Jesper found the lack of trouble troubling, the silence suffocating.

Or maybe it was the humidity that had turned his lungs to cotton—better still, his unabating guilt.

Regardless, it all hung in the sea air like swathes of held breath as he wended his way back from the Crow Club.

This cosy residential neighbourhood was a stark contrast from the Barrel, which seemed to always burst at the seams with life, a veritable kaleidoscope of colour and sound and motion.

Jesper’s ears rang from the nothingness of the street he now strode. A high, metallic sound needling at his head as he walked home. As if his body rejected such serenity.

He felt like he'd been coated in sugary syrup from a stack of stroopwafels. All the night's events sticky and clinging to him. As did the smell of gin and cigar smoke from the club. He couldn't seem to get the viscid feeling off his skin, and that smell off his red velvet jacket.

The tables had sung to Jesper again tonight. A sweet sound he hadn't heard in months. He’d found it irresistible. He did so love music.

It was a shame. He’d been doing well there for a while. He had been in control. Riding the high of the heist, he didn't feel the itch as much.

Of course, it never went away, this itch—not really. But with the heady balm of danger, the intoxicating thrill of taunting death with his pearl-handled revolvers, raging through a hellfire of bullets, the itch had been quietened.

Jesper always could drown out the siren song of the tables with a good old-fashioned threat to his life. It was when things settled, however, that was always where the trouble began.

And things had been settling for a while now.

Jesper had tried to keep busy. He had the Dregs. He’d even taken up a few hobbies. But life for the Dregs became easy, his hobbies became plagued with the aftertaste of monotony, and all that control had slipped through his fingers like velvet plumes of smoke.

Just like that, he was back to square one. Jesper knew it was bad and wrong and the whole reason he felt like he now needed to scrub his skin raw. But he couldn't help it.

Three nights ago he'd gone into the Crow Club with a pocket full of kruge, and one split-second decision to sit at the green felted tables had left him drunk and penniless and riddled with shame by the end of the night.

He hadn't told anyone. Not a soul.

Not Kaz, who hadn't been around at the Club for the past five nights--gods only knew where he'd been slinking off to so secret-like. Probably somewhere shadier than a forest at twilight so he could marinate in plots of revenge and murder against any poor sod who might’ve done so much as accidentally bump his elbow the night before. Having said that, Jesper wasn’t entirely sure Kaz even had a soul to begin with, so perhaps even if he’d had the spine to tell him, Kaz would not count.

He hadn’t told Joh, the manor’s grumpy live-in chef, who made the most delectable pies and pastries, and with whom Jesper hung around when he wasn’t at work. Mainly for the pastries, of course—but also for someone to talk to. Even if that someone only tolerated him because he was romantically entangled with the person who paid his paycheck.

He hadn’t told Majda, the old Ravkan Grisha healer they’d hired as their live-in maid at Nina’s request. Jesper often confided in Majda. But he could not bring himself to confess to her this. Seeing the disappointment in her grandmother eyes would be too much for him.

Jesper had not even told Wylan, his beautiful, kind, brilliant love—who was, in no uncertain terms, too good for someone as broken as Jesper.

Wylan had been busy taking over his father's business. They'd swindled everything out of Jan Van Eck, that bastard. Including his lovely home.

Jesper had moved in as soon as Wylan had asked. The boy had been shy and blushing when he’d finally worked up the nerve. Jesper had just grinned broadly and, taking his partner’s face in his hands, planted a kiss on Wylan’s carnation-pink lips. He swore Wylan had turned the colour of an embarrassed lobster.

They’d spruced up the place over the following weeks. Despite the manor’s impressive size, they’d managed to turn it into their own cosy corner of the world. Then, Wylan had forged into the world of business, full steam ahead, building upon the foundations of his father’s empire. Unsurprisingly to Jesper, he’d turned it into something shining and marvellous, as only Wylan could.

And Jesper had only gone and ruined things, as only Jesper could.

For the third night in a row, Jesper climbed the rain-slick steps of the manor's front porch with a pounding headache and absolutely no kruge in his pockets.

He took a deep breath before opening the door. It creaked on its old hinges as he padded over the threshold. Many more nights like this and Jesper would have to remember to oil those down.

Jesper kicked himself internally. There wouldn’t be any more nights like this. This would be the last. He swore it on his own grave. Although, at this rate, he might be penniless enough not to have one of those either.

The house was as dark and quiet as the rest of the street outside, save for the creak of the hinges, the click of the door as he shut it behind him, the snick of the lock. It was only ten and a half bells, but Jesper hoped against all hope that Wylan was already fast asleep.

Then Jesper made his way to the kitchen.

As if in anticipation of the four slices of bread he planned on scarfing down before his head hit the pillows, Jesper’s stomach growled. Loudly.

In that moment, Jesper also heard papers shuffling. He noticed one solitary light glowing in the kitchen. And Wylan—glasses on, wrapped snugly in his dressing robes, sitting at their kitchen table, which was covered in a tablecloth of sketches and blueprints.

Wylan looked up from the papers, lifting a disapproving brow.

Jesper, frozen in a moment of icy trepidation, was suddenly very unsure of what to do with his hands.

In that small window of time, Jesper knew Wylan saw right through him. Saw the state he was in, the events of the night playing out before them both like a moving picture they could not tear their eyes away from. He could probably even feel Jesper’s guilt, the very same molasses that coated his skin now seeping onto the sandalwood floors.

Jesper said nothing as he approached the bread box on the counter with caution.

“Where were you?” Wylan’s voice was eerily calm. It made every cell in Jesper’s body cringe. But with his back turned, perhaps he could hide his remorse a moment longer. He heard the gentle scrape of Wylan’s chair against the floor.

“The Club,” Jesper simply said, putting forth great effort to keep his voice even—casual. He reached for a knife and rolled it across his knuckles before taking out a loaf of sourdough. The portrait of ease, though he was indeed far from it. “Egan called in sick again. Had to cover his shift.”

The lie felt like ash on Jesper’s tongue. He sliced into the bread, trying to ignore the heavy weight of Wylan’s eyes on the back of his neck.

“You didn’t tell me,” Wylan said. “I was worried.”

Jesper cut three slices. His appetite, it seemed, had decided four was too many. Too even. Too much like a set of teacups.

“Sorry, I forgot to send word.” He turned, holding a piece of bread in his hands, facing Wylan at last. Wylan had deserted his seat at the table. Now leaning against it, arms crossed, he examined Jesper with the kind of scrupulousness that made the sharpshooter fidget.

Two could play at that game, Jesper decided. As he took a bite of bread, he studied Wylan’s face.

Drawn and haggard, like he hadn’t seen a day of sun in weeks—this made all the more discernible by the yellow wash of light staining the kitchen gloom. Jesper had half a mind to pump Wylan with every citrus juice they had in their fridge at that very moment.

The boy’s hair was a violent sea of ruddy curls, standing on end and every which way, as if he’d been dragging a ceaseless hand through it. No doubt evidence of all the long hours spent cooped up in that horrible, stuffy office.

His partner’s eyes were wide and blooming cornflowers.

Beautiful, Jesper thought on a whim. Though Wylan’s eyes were always beautiful. The thought made it that much harder to lie.

“I’ll be better next time,” Jesper told him. “Promise.” Lies. His skin crawled with them now, but this did not surprise Jesper. He’d been wearing his lies like a second skin for weeks. He only wished they’d keep him warm. Perhaps he’d fashion himself a cloak.

Wylan shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “It wouldn’t bother me so much,” he said, “If I believed that’s really what you were doing.”

Instead of defending himself, Jesper tore off another big bite of sourdough. To buy himself more time, yes, but also because he needed to be more sober for this discussion.

Or perhaps he needed to be more drunk. There must be a bottle of brandy or a vat of cough syrup somewhere in their kitchen…

He needed to say something.

Jesper swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

Wylan speared him a look. “You know what I mean, Jes.”

“No, Wy.” Jesper’s tone was more acidic than he intended. He tried to hide his wince by reaching for another slice of bread on the counter behind him. “I think you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“You come home much later than the end of your shift. You smell like smoke and liquor. What am I supposed to assume?”

“I dunno.” Jesper lifted a shoulder, an unbothered gesture. “That I’ve been working? I can’t help that you don’t like the way my place of employment smells. Would you prefer I get a job at the local candle shop instead?” He tried to sound teasing, tried to make light of the situation. But all he sounded like right now was cruel.

Jesper found he couldn’t meet the other boy’s piercing glare. So he took another bite of bread. Chewed. Swallowed. It tasted like nothing and felt like gravel scraping down his throat.

“You think this is funny?” Wylan’s jaw clenched. “You think this is some kind of joke?”

“I think giving up the well-paying job I have now to sell scented candles down at the market would be a joke,” Jesper said. “But if that’s what you want me to—”

“I know Egan isn’t sick.”

Silence dropped heavy like a stone in water, and rippled for a few beats across the room. Jesper risked a glance at Wylan. The boy’s forehead was creased with concerned crags; he chewed the inside of his cheek like it was a wad of jurda blossoms and he needed to pull an all-nighter.

“You’ve been at the tables, haven’t you?” It wasn’t harsh, this accusation. It was quiet, understanding.

Nonetheless, Jesper’s heart raced, as one’s does when they’ve been caught doing something they’re not meant to be doing. It wasn’t the good kind of adrenaline rush. He felt sick. Jesper opened his mouth, then closed it, fumbling for a response. Any response.

Finally, Jesper sputtered, “So what—you’re spying on me now?”

“No,” Wylan huffed. “Egan showed up at the office today, keen on working the docks when he’s not at the Club for a bit of extra cash. He was a touch confused when I asked him how he was feeling.”

Jesper’s smile was tight. “Must’ve been Agar’s shift I was covering for, then. Can never keep those two straight.”

“Don’t lie to me, Jesper.”

“Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Wylan.”

Wylan flinched. Recoiled like Jesper had slapped him. Wylan stared and stared at Jesper, those eyes no longer fields of cornflowers, but deep, yawning trenches—wounds in the ocean floor.

“Where exactly is it you reckon I belong, then?” Wylan asked.

Jesper scoffed. “Not in my business, that’s for sure.”

Wylan’s bottom lip trembled. “You are my business, Jesper.”

Really, this should be an incredibly romantic confession. For the people of Kerch worshipped Ghezen, the god of trade and commerce. They revered all affairs of business.

And since Wylan was Kerch, saying Jesper was his business was, for all intents and purposes, rather like saying Jesper was his religion.

The joke was on the tip of Jesper’s tongue, but he stopped himself. Wylan looked neither amorous nor in the mood for witticisms. He looked rather ready to nail Jesper’s balls to the wall.

Understandable, Jesper thought. For all the shame he felt, Jesper might let Wylan do just that without so much as a complaint. But it was much easier to be angry than to accept the sympathy he didn’t think he deserved.

“Really?” Jesper railed instead. “I’d rather thought I was your side hustle. Since you’re only ever around when you need something from me.”

Horrible. That’s what Jesper was. Horrible, stinking, rotten—

“You’re not my side anything!” Wylan’s voice broke on that last word, and Jesper’s heart followed suit at the sound.“Look,” his partner said, “I know I’ve been busy, but I can change that. I’ll take time off work. I’ll work from home. I’ll— let me help you, Jesper.”

The former demolitionist took a step forward, reaching out an arm as if to comfort him, then retracting it, as if touching Jesper right now would be just as disappointing as seeing him this way. Jesper could not say he blamed him.

Wylan sighed, his arm dropping to his side. He raked his hand through his hair for probably the umpteenth time that night. His voice came out barely above a whisper when he said, “I want to help. I deserve to be able to help you when you need it.”

He was right. Jesper knew he was right.

Say it, something in his mind begged. Tell him he’s right and you’re sorry.

But Jesper only frowned, shoving the thought aside.

Because Jesper wasn’t just sorry. He was wrong. In every way—wrong and broken and no good. And very morose, apparently.

All Jesper could think was that Wylan deserved everything, and Jesper could hardly offer him anything.

“Well?” Wylan interrupted his spiralling train of thought. “Say something.”

Jesper threw his hands in the air. “What do you want me to say, Wylan?” he strained. “That I love coming home to this big, empty house on this big, empty street? That I love our ten-minute inane conversations at the start and end of every day? ‘How was your day, honey?’ ‘Oh, mine was swell. How was yours, sweetheart?’ ‘Mine was swell too, thank you for asking’. The same thing, over and over again. It’s all so… so—”

“So what?”

“So boring!”

The look that crossed Wylan’s face was somewhere between devastation and bewilderment. Jesper wanted to gobble the words back up quicker than a trough of waffles.

“You’re... bored? I thought you liked it here.”

He did. Jesper more than liked it. He loved being wherever Wylan was, really. But here in this cookie-cutter neighbourhood, with all its soft pastels and even numbers, Jesper was always the seventh teacup in the set of six.

No, scratch that. He wasn’t even a teacup. He was a godsdamned gilded tankard with a ruby-encrusted handle, debauching the dainty tea party with his gaudiness, staining the lace doilies with his red wine.

Not that he minded this, of course. He hardly noticed how not-very-much-at-all he blended in. If it made him happy to do so, Jesper would wear lime green and tangerine through these streets of beige and white without apology.

Drunk and full of shame and feeling the full weight of the other boy’s disappointment heavy on his shoulders, though, it was very easy for Jesper to pin the blame on this new life they’d been living.

An easy explanation for something that was so very hard to explain. It was the reason people would expect. And people always expected a reason for failure. It would be easier this way.

The easy thing to say and the true thing were often not the same, however. Admitting you did not know the reason for something was always harder than spinning a fabric of truth with threads of white lies to explain it away.

Jesper did not know what his reason was. He did not know why he’d gone back to the tables, why he’d failed so miserably. He hadn’t been able to confront it these past three nights.

But he knew the reason wasn’t Wylan. He knew it hadn’t anything to do with him or their life together.

Say it.

Jesper hated that he snorted. He hated that he said, “That’s like asking if I enjoy endlessly banging my head against a wall.”

He could feel Wylan’s hurt like a punch to his own stomach from across the room. It left him winded. And because Jesper was the worst kind of coward, he didn’t meet Wylan’s eyes.

Instead, he focused on the lapels of Wylan’s dressing gown, which Jesper had once compared to dirty meringues because they were grey and poofy. The comparison, when he’d first made it, had made Wylan laugh, and he’d told Jesper to go get something to eat before he started gnawing on his very expensive robe.

Jesper had scoffed and told him he would never stoop so low as to eat dirty meringues, or ruin a good cashmere garment for that matter. But the boy had merely laughed harder, then reminded Jesper of the time he’d dropped a whole plate of lasagna and shamelessly licked the floor clean all the same.

It had taken Jesper a moment to respond because he’d been beguiled when he looked at Wylan--all pink in the cheeks and giggling at the memory.

And when Wylan had asked what Jesper was staring at, Jesper had responded, “Your stupid face.”

Wylan had snatched a pillow from the pile on their bed and chucked it at him, probably to keep Jesper from seeing his raging blush. But Jesper saw, and he’d known then. That he was in love with Wylan.

Jesper shook his head of the reverie.

Wylan was looking down at his perpetually ink-stained hands now. After a moment, he said, “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Yeah, well.” Nausea curdled Jesper’s stomach. “What did you expect?”

“Do you want to move out?”

Jesper’s eyes snapped up.

Wylan’s jaw set, his spine steeled, and he looked down his nose at Jesper the same way every pompous prick in this neighbourhood looked at him. Usually, Jesper relished the way they sniffled. Laughed at it, even. Except Jesper didn’t feel much like laughing now. He didn’t relish the way Wylan looked at him like this.

“Do you want me to move out?” Jesper asked, a pit sinking in his stomach.

“Well, you don’t like it here,” Wylan reasoned. “You don’t like this house or this neighbourhood. You said you’re bored by it and by me. You won’t let me help you, and personally, I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself.” Wylan crossed his arms. “So I don’t see why you should stay.”

“You’re kicking me out.” It was almost a question, but it came out like a challenge. Like a dare Jesper nearly wished he would take. “Because of one night at the tables?”

“Three nights, Jesper,” Wylan said. “And that’s not the point. I don’t care how many nights it’s been. I offered you help. I want to help, and you—”

“I don’t need your help,” Jesper growled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.” Wylan was nearly shouting now. “You’re lying to me and you’re lying to yourself and you know it.”

“I can handle myself, thanks.”

“Clearly,” Wylan scoffed, his tone drenched in sarcasm. “How much money did you lose tonight, Jesper?”

“Why does it matter? We’ve got loads of money.”

“We’ve got loads now. What happens after that runs out? You suppose I’ll support your spending habits with my business? Because I won’t. And then what? We might have Barrel Bosses kicking our doors in and breaking our legs for the money you owe.”

“I’ve only been at the Crow Club,” Jesper groused. “Kaz would never do that.”

At this, Wylan Van Sunshine barked a sardonic laugh. “Kaz Brekker? You don’t think Kaz Brekker, otherwise known as Dirtyhands, would break our legs for your debts? You do remember he once ripped out a man’s eyeball with his bare hands, don’t you?”

“Pretty sure he had his gloves on when he did that,” Jesper mumbled.

Wylan ignored him. “I suppose you think you could take him, then?”

“I’d be willing to bet on myself.” Jesper shrugged. Lies, so many lies. He might as well be licking the hearth for the way his mouth tasted.

“You sure about that?” Wylan sneered. “Because you don’t exactly have the best track record for betting on the winning horse.”

Jesper blinked. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel offended by the jab. He was tempted to let the boy continue. He’d never gotten this much lip from Wylan, and he was curious to see what else he could stir up.

There was definitely something not right with Jesper.

Wylan barreled on, “In fact, I’d be willing to bet Kaz would break your legs just for going back to the tables. He’d break mine, too, for letting you.”

Then, a look of realisation struck Wylan’s face, and he gasped. “He doesn’t know.”

“No one knows,” Jesper said with a scowl. “Apart from meddling meddlers like yourself.”

“Fine,” Wylan said, gathering the papers still spread out on the table into an organized stack. “I won’t meddle. I won’t even tell Kaz if you don’t want me to. Just don’t burden me with your inevitable slew of debt collectors.”

Jesper felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. By an ox or a very strong mule. He could barely muster the breath to say, “So that’s it then? You’re kicking me out because I’m a burden.”

Wylan tapped the stack of parchment against the table twice to even the edges, then pocketed his glasses in his dressing gown. “Do what you want Jesper. I’m going to bed.”

“And I supposed I’m not welcome there anymore, am I? Because I’m kicked out. Because I’m a burden.”

Wylan fixed him with a look. “Spare me, Jesper,” he said, and promptly quit the room.

Jesper stalked after him into the foyer. But as Wylan turned to take the stairs up to their room, Jesper ripped the front door open.

“Fine,” he threw over his shoulder at the other boy. “I’m going to find something more interesting to do.”

The last thing Jesper saw before he slammed the door behind him was Wylan’s figure, back turned and shoulders slumped, paused halfway up the stairs.

♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎

There was no longer a sticky, syrupy feeling on Jesper’s skin as he stomped back down the deserted residential street towards the Barrel. Now, the feeling was more like he’d rolled around in an ant pile whilst covered in syrup.

Which was decidedly the worse of the two, if he had to choose.

There was also a roaring in Jesper’s ears, and he couldn’t decide if this was better than the tinny ringing, or so so much worse. He would have much preferred both the ringing and the roaring, however, over what now rattled through his head.

You’ve been at the tables, haven’t you?

Let me help you, Jesper.

Don’t lie to me, Jesper.

I thought you liked it here.

I don’t see why you should stay.

You’re lying.

Fine. Do what you want.

Just don’t burden me.

Wylan’s voice clanged through him, a cacophony of his worst nightmares come to life, manifested in a vicious wheel of jagged teeth circling his head like a drain.

Jesper had no one to blame but himself. Wylan had merely said what Jesper had pushed him to say, the things Jesper already knew to be true.

All the same, it didn’t hurt any less hearing them.

Jesper should bang his head against the wall to quiet his thoughts. Jesper should go back to the Crow Club and show Wylan just how much of a burden he could truly be. But that had to be his most stupid idea yet.

You know who isn’t stupid? Jesper thought. Kaz.

He hadn’t seen Kaz in a while. He’d been too busy trying not to fail, trying to be good enough for Wylan. But Kaz was not good, so Jesper needn’t pretend to be around him.

Kaz was also always scheming. He’d give Jesper a job. Maybe then, with a job and danger and two pistols under his belt, Jesper could be better. For Wylan.

♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎

AN: I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry! The angst is real and it hurts and all will be righted soon I promise (unless it is very very wronged, in which case I will have a lot more apologising to do). But how bout Wylan laughing sardonically, tho? Because honestly, I think it’s a look.

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed. More chapters to come soon- if you want to be tagged in future chapter updates, feel free to shoot me a message/ask and I’ll add you to the tag list 🖤💫

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Tag List: @velarhysismine @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte @knifewifejude

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enchanted-prose · 4 years

Text

#5 The Vaults (Part 1)

Hey howdy hey! Publishing a little fic for the fun of it, please be sure to check the notes!

Word count: 4,325

Characters: Roden, Dawn, The Faola (Original Characters), Ayvar (Original Character), Brat, Roach, and Beetle (Original Characters)

Notes: Reader discretion is advised, as this story deals with a darker side of Drylliad. Several important places and people make an appearance in this story, so if you’re looking for something that adds more plot to this ficlet series, this one is for you!

Enjoy!

It was late. It was raining.

Two ingredients for a delightfully uneventful evening.

Roden hung his cloak on the wooden pegs by the Dragon's Keep's front door. He did his best to shake the water from his hair without getting water everywhere.

For some reason, the empty tavern made his skin crawl with anxiety.

Usually it was teeming with people making poor choices.

"Hello Dawn!" Roden said with a grin as he took a seat at the wooden countertop.

Dawn, a large woman who served in the Avenian War and the owner of the Dragon's Keep, waved, "Captain! Can't imagine why you're awake at this ungodly hour. Is there anything, or anyone, you want from here?"

Her teasing chuckle made Roden wonder what she was talking about.

Did it have to do with that night he'd drank too much and supposedly threw a man out of a window?

"I'd love a cheese bun, maybe something warm," he plastered a grin on his face. "Long night ahead, it's my turn to patrol the Vaults."

"Ah, the Vaults, I'll be sure to get you anything you need."

"Is, ah, is Merry here?"

A tiny glimmer of hope seeped through Roden's cold hands. It would be nice to see a friend before marching through the Vaults.

Marching directly into Drylliad's most crime ridden sector.

"She went to bed several hours ago, love," Dawn turned to the large wall of kegs. "But I'll tell her you asked-"

"No, no, please don't. It's alright, I, ah, I just wanted to talk to somebody before. . . Y'know. . ."

"Before heading to the Vaults?"

"Yes." It wasn't in Roden to admit that the Vaults made him nervous.

He'd seen frightening things before. He'd fought with seemingly endless waves of soldiers. Held his own against notorious pirates.

But it was easy to block out those people and fulfill a task.

It was another thing to look true evil in the face.

To look true evil in the face and sometimes fail at saving everyone he could.

The Vaults were originally built by one of Carthya's queens in an attempt to give more room to businesses and places to live. Originally, the Vaults were simply called the Queen's Close, and

were made up of several tight alleyways, rooms, and labyrinthine passages.

And they were all underground.

It didn't take very long for the Vaults to fill with the plague, and they were closed to public use.

Despite the danger and sickness, people continued to seek shelter there if they couldn't live anywhere else.

Many people didn't let the threat of death stop them from seeking shelter from a storm.

Roden knew that there'd be more people than usual hiding in the Vaults.

He only hoped that the cold kept criminals hidden in the shadows.

"You'll be alright, Captain, I have full faith in you," Dawn said, setting a steaming hot mug in front of him. She rummaged below the wooden counter, "And there's something I need to give to you."

"Dawn, you shouldn't have," Roden cracked a smile as he sipped at his drink.

Oh! Cider!

Dawn held up a coin attached to a leather string, "This is for you, from a friend. This friend claims it'll keep you safe, though I'm not sure from what. It's kind of small."

"Which friend?"

"You'll have to find out for yourself. Take your cheese bun, love, and the coin. Be safe tonight.”

Roden cracked a grin, and reached for Dawn’s hand over the counter. He pressed a kiss to her calloused fingers, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Come back any time,” Dawn chuckled. “And don’t get into trouble!”

Her words rang in his head as he stepped out into the rain, cloak on his shoulders and the coin tied to his belt.

Don’t get into trouble!

Roden didn’t actively seek trouble-

Actually, yes, he did actively seek out trouble. He sought out trouble and he liked to punch it in the face.

Although sometimes trouble punched him right back.

Roden patted his mare's neck as they quietly left the warm, safe light pouring out of the Dragon's Keep. The rain that had been lightly drizzling before was now falling much harder. Heavy rain meant a heavy population of people in the Vaults.

Maybe he should've forced somebody to come patrol with him.

No, he didn't have the heart to drag his fellow soldiers from a good night's rest. Besides, he'd taken care of the Vaults on his own before, he was strong enough to do it again.

There wasn't a single person in sight on the streets of Drylliad.

Everybody was either tucked into a warm sleeping space or hiding out of the rain.

It didn't take long before Roden's cloak was completely soaked.

Saints, he hated cloaks. They only ever got in the way.

Several entrances to the Vaults could be found in lower Drylliad, the entrypoints near the castle were sealed up several generations ago. And good thing too, as it wasn't uncommon for the plague to claim victims deep within the undergound labyrinth. . .

Once the streets had been cleared, Roden knew it was time to venture into the Vaults. He tied up his mare within the safety of an inn's stable, rubbed the new coin hanging near his sword, and sludged through the rain.

The first time he'd been in the Vaults was something he'd never forget.

People covered in sores were reaching to him and the six other guards. Children were huddled in corners, having frozen to death in the night. Scalps hung drying from wooden rafters.

As much as the Carthyan guard tried, people always made their way into the Vaults.

They had no place to go.

Hand on his short longsword, Roden squared his shoulders. The rain was falling in heavy blankets now. It almost hid the narrow, pitch black alleyway leading down into the Vaults. The Saints only knew what was awaiting him down there this time around.

He'd brought a lamp with him, tucked under his arm to keep out of the rain. Thank goodness for that.

Stepping into the alleyway, Roden kept his eyes glued to the dark, just in case anybody was thinking about jumping out at him. He lit a match, and dropped it into the lantern's glass shell.

Dull yellow light illuminated the dark alley. Roden held it high above his head, careful to keep it out of harm's way. He scanned the alley as his eyes adjusted to the sudden surge of lantern light.

Nobody was lurking in that front alley.

And who could blame them? Water was practically streaming across the floor. You'd catch your death long before any thieves got around to stealing your scalp right off of your head.

Pushing onwards, Roden set his hand on his sword hilt, taking in every detail that he could.

This entrance was completely cleared.

Another pitch black entrance waited to be patrolled. Roden knew this area well, there were stairs leading into a large room. There was a second entrance there, a large arching tunnel that led out to the lowest portion of Drylliad. Adjacent to this open tunnel was a series of stairs going in different directions.

Sometimes it seemed like those stairs were leading straight down to the hellish Devils' lair.

But Roden knew better. He'd seen the Vaults with both lantern light and spotted daylight pouring in through holes in the ceiling.

He'd faced off with the demons lurking in the Vaults before.

Though it would be a lie to say he wasn't a little nervous.

No matter how hard he tried to be quiet, the sounds of his footsteps echoed through the large room.

And he saw his first person.

"You there," Roden kept his voice even, yet stern. It was something he picked up from Mott. "State your business!"

The person, who'd been disguised as a lump thanks to a massive black cloak, said nothing.

As a precaution, Roden pulled his blade free. He took a step forwards, and repeated his demand.

And still, the lump of a person said nothing.

Dread began to pool in Roden's stomach. He wasn't sure what he'd do if the person was suffering from the plague, only wanting to die away from the eyes of strangers, or if the lumpy mass was a terrified child.

"State. Your. Business."

"Rot. In. Hell!" Roared the figured, bursting into life.

Instantly, Roden recognized his attacker.

True, it had been a few weeks since their first encounter, but Roden couldn't forget the snarling voice that belonged to a short bandit hellbent on attacking Lord Feall, a friend to Carthya's royal court.

Swinging the lamp to safety, Roden held his sword out, prepared to meet the Faola's blade. This one fought with a saber, or at least that's what he remembered. But this time, the Faola was fighting with a short longsword, just like Roden.

This type of fight was easy.

Roden lunged to attack, fully prepared for when the Faola caught and parried his blow.

He was stronger than the Faola attacking him. All he had to do was push hard enough and-

The Faola fighting him dropped the sword, and ducked to avoid the rebound from Roden's blade.

From darkness, a second Faola had appeared, wielding another short longsword and a dagger.

Roden took several steps back, sizing up this second opponent, but no attack came.

The second Faola kicked the first one's rump, and gestured first to the third stairway, and then to Roden, sweeping their hands around their middle.

"Attacking-," Roden began, but the second Faola looked him dead in the face, and spoke.

"It was a misunderstanding," the second Faola said, their voice rough and deep.

"No, it wasn't," insisted Roden, his blade held out. He didn't trust either of them.

The Faola whispered between themselves for several seconds.

Their argument seemed to be coming to an end once the first Faola stood up, and held their fists up, preparing to attack Roden. The second Faola held up his sword.

Great.

Inhaling deeply, Roden sank into a fighting stance, ready to launch himself at the two bandits.

A plan flashed before his eyes. He'd get rid of the unarmed one first by delivering a swift blow to the head with the butt of his sword, that way, he could attack the second armed Faola without any distract-

With a mighty grunt, the second Faola shoved the first towards Roden, sprinting down the third stairwell just as the unarmed Faola tumbled to the ground near Roden's feet.

He, ah, he wasn't expecting that.

As quickly as he could, Roden held the point to the Faola's face, "Take off the hood and mask."

"Please, don't make me do this," the Faola begged, clasping their hands behind their head. "You wouldn't-"

"Take off the mask," ordered Roden.

"Please! My reputation-!"

"You should've thought of your reputation before you turned to a life of banditry."

The Faola scoffed, "Banditry. Your friend, the ambassador's husband, the regent. He knows what we do, you fool."

Never a good idea to call somebody a fool if they have a sword pointed directly at your throat.

"Take off the mask, or I'll be peeling it off of my sword in a few seconds," he said. "One."

"Captain Harlowe! What we do isn't a bad-!"

"Two."

"We only take from-! Devils have you!" The Faola cried, throwing off his hood.

A shock of long, scarlet hair tumbled down the Faola's back. When the mask came off, Roden was only slightly surprised to see a pretty pair of earth green eyes and a slim nose.

The Faola he'd nearly slaughtered those weeks ago was, in fact, a young woman.

Her voice still carried the rasp from before, "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

Roden would've chuckled if he wasn't standing in the Vaults. He kept his sword in hand, "You're playing a dangerous game."

"And you've got your hands full."

"I can still run you through."

That shut the Faola up.

"What's your name?" Roden asked. He was weighing his options in his mind. Tobias's claims about the Faola depicted them as citizens acting outside of the law to help others. . . But Roden knew enough about gangs of bandits.

Everybody was acting for their own interest.

He suspected that the Faola were simply gaining popularity with the public so they'd get away with larger crimes all due to the fact that they would be loved by the working man.

"Ayvar," said the red haired girl, her voice not at all matching her face. "Please sir, please let me go."

"Get up," Roden growled, his sword trained on Ayvar's throat. "Hands behind your back."

It was odd, the fact that Ayvar was doing what she was told. She crossed her wrists, and held her head up high. Roden sheathed his sword. Typically, when facing off with somebody in the Vaults, there weren't any moral questions. He'd disarm the criminals, leave them unconscious, and tie their hands together until reinforcements could come to arrest them.

There were three soldiers stationed at the city walls, all Roden needed to do was march Ayvar out of the tunnel, wave his lantern, and she'd be handled.

A thought crossed his mind.

The price for banditry and murder was high.

No rock solid evidence existed that proved Ayvar's guilt or innocence.

"Tell me what your business was here," Roden ordered. "And be honest. It'll save both of us a lot of hardship."

The sound of dripping water filled the large room. Ayvar was refusing to speak.

Or maybe she was trying to think of a lie.

"Have you thought of an elaborate, misguiding-," began Roden.

There was courage in Ayvar's deep voice, "I only come because one of my own asked me to."

"That's not a good enough reason. Ayvar, in the name of the king, you are placed under arrest."

She didn't put up a fight as Roden took her by the arm, walked out to the tunnel, and waved the lantern over his head.

He bound her hands together, and left her sitting in the dark tunnel.

There was still work to be done in the lower Vaults.

There was still another Faola running rampant in the dark.

Casting one last glance at Ayvar, Roden descended down the third stairwell, hoping he'd see the second Faola.

Each of the three stairways down had recognizable features. Two of them were harmless, they consisted of thriving mushrooms or green mold.

That wasn't the case for this third pathway down.

Dark, asymmetrical streaks decorated the right wall of the stairway. Matching splatters lined the left. Crackling stains were spread across the floor.

This tunnel had a special name: The Murdering Path.

Death was always waiting at the end of this stairway in one form or another.

Sometimes it was a bloodbath.

Sometimes it was a group of diseased corpses.

And sometimes it was a little girl reaching for her dropped doll as she waited for her parents to come save her.

The last image remained on Roden's mind more than he wanted to admit. It haunted his dreams. Reminded him that no matter how hard he tried, there were always people who slipped through the cracks and went unseen until death came for them.

The little girl and her dropped doll kept him trying to look for those who often went underfoot.

Roden steeled himself against what he couldn't see at the base of the Murdering Path. He pressed his back to the wall, drew his sword, and stepped into the second room.

Lantern light swathed the dark area, catching on fallen tables and lost toys. He stepped further into the room, searching for any more people disguised as uninteresting lumps of fabric. Light reflected back at him.

A tiny pool of blood.

Trouble was brewing.

He stood frozen in a defensive stance, listening for any sounds that went against the drumming of the rain and the constant drip of ruined water.

Shuffling.

Timid shuffling.

Roden tiptoed around the edges of the room, trying to locate where the sound came from. There were several more stairways leading deeper still, as well as several other hallways opening up into other rooms.

It took two more turns around the room before he was able to locate the sound of the shuffling, which actually turned out to be sniffling.

Experience taught him to recognize the cloak.

The black fabric barely held together by a few strings and a handful of dark patches belonged to the second Faola.

If the second Faola was hoping to surprise him, he'd be in for a surprise.

There was a slight hissing as a drop of rain splattered onto the lantern's glass casing. The patchwork lump stopped sniffling. Roden gingerly stepped towards it. A tiny sneeze rocked the lump, followed by the tiny sound of tiny hands hitting a tiny face.

"State your business," Roden lowered his sword only slightly, skeptical of a surprise attack. "This is Captain Harlowe, you will not be harmed if you comply."

A set of child fingers peeked out from the top of the patchwork cloak. There was a series of hissing, whispering, and more smacking.

"State your business," he repeated.

No sound came from the cloak.

Somebody coughed behind him.

The second Faola stood with a dagger extended, his cloak missing.

“You used the same trick twice to trap me,” Roden noted, setting the lantern on the ground a few inches from the discarded cloak

The Faola grunted, a discordant sound, “I did no such thing. My colleague was on the lookout for me. She mistook you for somebody else.”

“You were going to stab me in the back.”

“Quite the opposite, actually, I was going to have you stab somebody else-”

“I doubt that.”

“- in the back while that monstrosity was tucked away.” The second Faola gestured to the cloaked lump, lowered his dagger, and held up his hand in surrender. “I told them not to move until you or me came back.”

Roden would have to berate himself for trusting the wrong people later if the Faola left him for dead. He tilted his head to the lump, “What’s hiding under there?”

“A trio of demonic children, we were going to smuggle them out,” the Faola shrugged. “I have nothing to hide, Captain. Keep your heads down, runts”

A tiny child’s hand was barely visible below the hem of the Faola’s cloak. It vanished the second the Faola snapped his order.

“Why?”

It was a simple question.

The Faola shrugged, “Because I like to eat children for breakfast.”

“You’re making jokes in an area known for atrocities similar to what you just described,” Roden pointed out.

“Then I suppose I’ll start making jokes about my dietary habits any day now. Think they’ll- I’m joking, I swear it. You have two choices now. Kill me and get those kids to safety, but let the scum who brought them here roam the Vaults-”

“Or take the children to safety and leave you to remain with villains you probably get along with.”

“I was going to suggest that you help me catch them, actually,” the Faola pressed his hands to his chest. “My heart would break if I had one.”

Once again, Roden was looking at the cloak, it was much easier to make out the tiny shapes of three children trying their best to stay still. He stared at the Faola, once again weighing his options.

Well, actions did speak louder than words.

“We can’t just leave them here,” Roden gestured to the hidden trio. “What if they’re stolen away?”

“Then we’ll-,” the Faola obviously hadn’t thought of that. He balled his hands into fists, “They’ll be fine.”

“What if-”

“We can’t afford to think in what ifs, people like you and I, sir knight.”

“You can’t gamble with an innocent’s life.”

“Then stay here. Listen for screaming, probably curses too, everyone hates me here,” the Faola said as he stepped forward. He patted Roden’s cheek, rubbed his eyes, and slipped back into the shadows.

Unfortunately, the encounter wasn’t the strangest one he’d had with a criminal.

Roden shrugged out of his thick cloak, and settled it on top of the now squirming children, “It’s alright, you don’t need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” sniffled one of the children, fiercely pulling aside both cloaks. “I want to go home!”

“Where is your home?” Roden asked, kneeling beside the trio.

Two girls, one boy.

“I don’t- I, ah, it’s by the pigs,” said the first child as she pushed her dirty pale curls from her eyes.

“I don’t have a home,” said the second girl, throwing her arms around Roden. “You smell good.”

“Thank you.”

“I would very much like to have. . .”

Roden did his best to nod his head at the right times as the second little girl struggled to find the word she wanted. If he balanced the three children, he’d be able to take them back up Murder Path and into safety.

They’d be held at the gatehouse for a week to see if any parents came for them. After that, Imogen would assist in helping them find a place to live.

The Faola’s words creeped across his neck.

Let the scum who brought them here roam free. . .

“Tell me your names,” Roden interrupted the second girl, who still hadn’t figured out what she wanted to say.

The tiny girl with white curls poked out her chin, “I’m Brat!”

“My name- my name is Roach,” said the second girl, a smile spreading across her face. “Will you get me a -”

“They call me Beetle,” murmured the little boy.

Roden did his best to remain quiet and patient as he used his cloak as a makeshift pack to carry Brat on his back.

With Beetle on his right hip, and Roach on his left with the lantern in her hand, Roden crept back up Murder Path.

Anxiety trickled through his bones.

Every drip could’ve masked a footstep.

Halfway up Murder Path, Brat sneezed into Roden’s ear.

He froze.

When the coast was clear, he resumed the nerve wracking trek up to that main room.

The Devils must’ve been in a good mood- the large room was empty. Roden stepped out of the dark tunnel, or at least as far as he could while still avoiding the rain. His heart pounded against his ribs as Roach proudly waved the lantern.

Any second now. . .

Any second now, and those three sentinels would be there to take the trio to safety.

Faint shouts and curses snaked their way up the Murder Path. The Faola must’ve found trouble.

Hurry up!

Brat had to have heard the fighting. She buried her snotty face into Roden’s neck, humming as loud and as tuneless as she could.

It was wrong to leave the Faola to fight a large group of thugs.

But Roden refused to leave the trio of children waiting all alone for help.

By the time the three guards arrived and had taken a child in their arms, Roden was certain it was too late. Roach insisted on pressing sloppy kisses all over his face, while Brat blew her nose into his tunic one last time.

He hardly had time to answer any questions the guards had before he was bolting down Murder Path, the lantern swinging all over the place.

What was he thinking? Dashing after a masked bandit?

Roden couldn’t argue for or against assisting the Faola as he tried his best to avoid dark puddles that looked a little too much like hardening blood. The sounds from before were growing quieter and quieter.

The odds were stacked too high against the Faola.

They were both idiots. The Faola by walking off into the Vaults alone, and Roden for following.

Turn after turn, room after room, Roden searched for any sign of a skirmish. Any evidence that there had been a fight in the first place.

His lantern was beginning to flicker.

Saints, what was he going to do without it?

Wait-

What was he going to do without it?

A million reasons why he should turn around and walk away raced through his head. Roden quietly ignored them all as he backtracked out of the room he was in, and set the lantern out in the covered hall. It wouldn’t be long before the lantern flickered.

He held up his fists. Drawing a sword in the dark would only spell trouble, but he still wanted to be ready to throw blows if somebody decided to surprise him the second the lantern’s flame went out.

Soon, Roden was in total darkness.

Irrational fear seeped through his iron will.

He could die down here, all alone. And what if he did? Nobody would find him, except for the hungry rats and hungry pe-

No. The Faola was right.

People like the two of them couldn’t think about what ifs.

Roden held perfectly still as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the Vaults.

He’d wrongly assumed that there wasn’t any light down there.

Faint streaks of yellow light tried their best to penetrate the room, and several streaks managed to do so.

Using these faint patches of light, Roden inched his way into the darkness, listening for any sound of another human being.

There was a pattern to walking deeper into the Vaults.

First, Roden did his best to see if there were any puddles, as those were asking for noise. He then inched his way forward, brushing his foot side to side as he did so. The simple, two-step pattern continued for what seemed like ages.

One day, he’d have to ask Jaron how to get through a room completely undetected.

The streaks of light were growing more and more frequent. Roden swore they were leading to a room with at least a little bit of-

Light.

#roden #ocs #fic friday except its a wednesday #fic friday #spoooooky #spooky underground tunnels of crime #the ascendance series #the ascendance trilogy #the false prince #the runaway king #the shadow throne #the captive kingdom #ascendance series #ascendance trilogy

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imaginesnkdorks · 5 years

Text

The Ultimatum

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1.9 K

Summary: You seem to have a deathwish... something Levi does not appreciate at all.

I feel like I could drop dead any minute now. Both my arms and legs are very heavy. Ugh. I think I’ll just stay here….

“Oi, Y/N.” I felt the tip of a boot nudge me on my face. How rude.

“Just… leave me here to die…” I said, sneaking a peak at Levi. From my position on the floor, I could barely even see his knees. Great. I felt him grab my hand – no, my arm and help me sit upright.

“You idiot. I can’t believe after last week you’ll go right back into doing this again.” Uh-oh, it’s the start of a Levi lecture. I finally got on my feet, and if I had the energy I would be whining and complaining. And the moment I finally looked into Levi’s face; I can read the worry clearly. Great. Now I am tired and full of guilt.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Yes, all I could look at was the floor in shame. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. I started training harder to become less of a burden to Levi – to be able to do more during expeditions. But here we are, two weeks in and Levi had to drag me from the training hall.

The walk back to our shared room wasn’t pleasant. Levi is being… talkative, which is a lot more unnerving than when he’s silent. He won’t stop talking about how everyone is constipated or how we should have training sessions for cleaning.

Unceremoniously throwing my boots to a corner of our room, I started undoing my annoying straps. I really should stop training in full uniform.

“Tsk.” Levi clucked his tongue, putting away my boots properly. And now I have him cleaning after me! Get it together, Y/N! I made sure to set my straps properly aside and put my dirties in our hamper – separating the colored from the whites. The least I could do for Levi is to take care of myself.

The moment I pulled my sleeping gown on I dropped on the bed. Fighting against everything my body wants me to do, I gestured for Levi to join me in bed. I looked at him just in time to see him taking of his day clothes. Yeah, the sight of his abs woke me up a bit.

In a huff, he finished changing and sat down on our bed. “What has gotten into you, Y/N? You suddenly upped your training routine – so much so that you look like you’re already half dead.”

I turned on my back, finally able to look him straight in the eyes. The eyebags under his eyes look a little more prominent. “Nothing. I just think it’s something a soldier like us should do, you know?”

“When correctly paced and scheduled, yes. But you just… you do it until you’re like this.” He gestured at me, making sure my eyes go where his does – the bruises on my arms and legs that are already darkening like berries. “You stop only when you pass out!”

I really have nothing to say to that… but the expedition is in two days! I think I should put in more hours, actually. I can’t have a repeat of the last expedition. I can’t just wait for Levi to save my ass. We’re both soldiers for goodness’ sake!

He sighed for probably the thousandth time today, before lying down beside me. “Just, promise you won’t do anything stupid.” He grabbed my hand, eyes full of affection and worry. My chest felt so tight from it… and maybe from the guilt as I can’t promise him what he wants me to.

---

“Ugh!” What is up with these titans?! I can’t help but think that they seem a lot stronger than the ones before. I’m sure it’s all just in my head, still, all that training should be helping! But I’m still the same weak, pathetic idiot. Levi’s voice can’t help but ring in my mind, saying I told you so. This is why I should’ve had a better training routine, all this time I just tired myself out. How can I be so reckless?

“Titans have already taken over the left platoon. Pass this message to the right.”

“Y/N, you heard the man, pass it on!” My squad leader Mike told me and I obeyed right away. “Nanaba, you fire the flare!”

The squad to our right is Levi’s Special Operations Squad, accompanied by the squad assigned to wagon duty. Best way to protect the supplies is to have it with the best soldier. I’m still a little bitter I wasn’t hand-picked by Levi… but that’s not important.

“Message, Captain!” I yelled the moment I got within earshot. “Titans have taken over the left platoon!” Levi nodded, telling Gunther to pass the message and Olou to fire the flare.

“You look horrible.” Levi said flatly. It hurts, but he’s right. I started to steer my horse back where we came from, but Levi stopped me. “You can stay here. Mike won’t mind.” I can’t do that… he’ll be looking after me again. I have to be able to hold my own! It’s the whole point of the past month’s training. I have to be able to kill titans on my own.

“I can’t…” Levi already has his signature glare on, and I wasn’t even finished.

“Y/N…” But it’s my turn to cut him off.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Levi. You don’t need to look after me. I can take care of myself.”

“You look like you’re ready to croak.” We stayed silent, almost forgetting the people around us… and the Titans. “I’m serious, Y/N. It’s like you have a death wish! Working yourself to death back at the HQ makes me nervous about what you’d do today.”

That hit a nerve. I steered my horse away and was making good distance, not before I heard Levi yell something to me though. “Don’t do anything reckless!”

My squad traveled quite far while I was away. I haven’t caught up with them in minutes. But that’s okay. It’s okay. I can do this. I mean, it’s bad to travel alone here in the titan’s territory but what else can I do?

However, the telltale shake of the Earth happened. Titans! “No way! Hiya!” There’s no time to dilly dally! I need to catch up to my squad! The blasted titans were making good time.

“Ah! Help! You there!” Huh? Someone on a horse was riding ahead of the Titans? I’ve been on so many expeditions to know that he’s not gonna make it to me. A titan will be able to grab him way before he reached even thirty feet near me. As for me, I think I’d fare better if I go back to Levi’s squad.

“Ahhhhhh!” Like I said, that soldier was grabbed by the thirteen-meter class titan behind him. “Help me!” Tsk! The closest titans to us is the one holding him and two small ones – probably around five and seven meters. Oh, what the hell. “Hiya!” I steered my horse towards the titan – deciding to help out my fellow soldier.

“Okay, just like we practiced.” I tried to stand on my horse, getting my 3DM gear ready. Being in an open field really isn’t ideal. Okay, I can’t stand up straight on my horse at the speed that we’re going. Still, I fired my gear and went for the titan. I didn’t even get passed its waist!

“Hurry – ack!”

“I won’t be able to go straight for its nape, so I went for the ankle instead. “Ha!” I was able to sever one, making it stumble. “Come on, get up!” I think the guy’s name is Ivan or something, doesn’t matter. He said something, but my focus is on the titan who’s now very angry at me. It was on its knees. Good. Without much of a running start, I still tried to go for the nape – which is a really bad idea. I felt its hand hold on to me in a single breath. Damn, it’s fast! What to do? “Ahhhh.” Oh yeah, I’m not alone. “A little help here?” I asked before turning to look at Victor something. I don’t really know his name.

He didn’t answer. He was too busy running up to my horse! That bastard! I wiggled, trying to free myself from the titan’s hand. Yeah, it didn’t work. Not a hundred percent, but I was able to free my left arm. Grabbing a flare, I fired it right on the titan’s face!

Being dropped didn’t feel good. Ugh. I need to make a move while it’s distracted, which would be difficult since my 3DM gear started malfunctioning. Clearly being squeezed by a titan is not good for both of us.

Think! I can still use my blades; I just can’t fire my wires. I have to move fast! The Titan is now on its knees and is still rubbing its eyes. I moved and climbed up its leg, making my way to its shoulders. I can’t believe how easy this part is! The neck slicing part was a bit difficult, though. But I did it.

Then another heavy thump rang around. The other two titans are really close and are already steaming. “What?”

“I knew you’d do something stupid.”

“Levi!” Relief and anger bubbled in my chest. Relief that I am still alive mostly because of him. Angry because I am still alive because of him. “I had it handled!”

“You have no horse and you’re alone. And it looks like your gear isn’t working too.” Levi is definitely mad now. His eyes are burning and I almost wavered. Almost.

“But I was able to kill that titan. And I wasn’t alone. I saved Alec... or Victor. I don’t know his name. But I saved someone, I’m not the only one that needs saving!”

“And I still have to save you! I thought…” A deep sigh escaped Levi and for a moment his eyes softened. He looked more broken than angry. Then it was gone and he was cold. “I thought I told you not to do something stupid, as reckless as this?”

“Why don’t you trust me? I can take care of myself. Levi, I’m a Survey Corps soldier too!” I couldn’t stop the tears, and I know just how much it doesn’t help my argument.

“I do trust you! I just… I don’t want to lose you Y/N.” That gave me pause. “Has it never occurred to you that I’m doing this more for my sake? I need you to stay safe… for me. But if you insist on dragging yourself to every dangerous situation, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What? What are you talking about Levi? You can’t mean that.” I reached out for his hand, he let me touch him but he’s not responding. He’s just… he looks like he’s given up. More thundering thumps of titans can be felt on the ground, and the unmistakable screams of titans are sounding closer and closer.

“Eld!” I didn’t notice the rest of Levi’s squad was a few feet from us.

“Captain?” Eld saluted, coming to us at once.

“Give Y/N a horse.” Eld moved right away. “We’ll talk later, that is if you stop trying to die.”

As we make our way to my squad, my mind kept wondering to my conversation with Levi. Guilt sat heavily on my chest. Maybe, I should heed to his ultimatum after all.

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #reader insert #selfship #levi special operations squad #survey corps #mod max

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years

Text

FFT: dancing around an open fire; adam page

Notes:

This is the second part to second one to know and this was originally sent to me by @kyleoreillysknee on my writing blog, snarkandsarcasmwrites. Just moving it to it’s own post on here so that it’s easier to access.

Summary:

Adam and Giselle are at her parents house and things are finally starting to come out. Fluuuuuuf, holy wow the fluff. part 2 of 2.

Pairing:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Giselle

Warning:

Uhm... None?

Her parent’s cabin came into view and Giselle took a deep breath in desperate attempt to center herself and prepare herself for what lie ahead. If she knew anything about her mother it was that her mother was most likely going to have a thousand questions -and judgements, that she dumped on her before Giselle even got the word hey out of her mouth.

Adam sensed her tension and he placed his hand over the top of hers. “It’s okay. If I see it’s gettin to be too much, we can go for a drive or somethin.”

“Y-yeah.” Giselle stared intently at the cabin and swallowed hard. “ Thank you.. Again.. For coming with me.”

It was only the fourth or fifth time she’d thanked him in the past hour. He smiled and shrugged it off as if it were nothing. As they pulled to a stop behind a beat up old Bronco next to a grand old oak with a tire swing strung from it, Adam checked his phone.

Naturally, Kenny took it upon himself to check in. He chuckled and read his friends text.

Adam bit his lip and fired off a text back.

– > I’m probably gonna be scarce a few days.

– > I kinda went back to her family’s place with her for the holidays.

–> I know, okay? And yeah.. Maybe me goin back with her is doing that.

– > wish me luck?

He shoved the phone into his pocket, killing the engine just as the door to the cabin was thrust open and an older woman stood in it, pointing a wooden spoon towards the trees.

“Get out there. All of ya. I swear I can’t get a damn thing done without you lot stickin your little hands in all my cookin.” the woman laughed and smiled, waving excitedly as she caught sight of the car sitting behind her late husband’s Bronco.

“Giselle? That you girl?”

Giselle swallowed hard and glanced over at Adam. “ Did I mention they were… a little crazy?” she bit her lip as she met his intent gaze. Adam chuckled and reminded her calmly, “Hey. It’s gonna be fine. I promise. You don’t have to keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Apologizing for every little thing. I’m..” he almost said that he wasn’t the asshole she’d just broken up with, but he went with “I’m perfectly fine with you exactly the way you are.” instead. The smile on her face was more than worth it when he did.

It clicked for him a little. She may not hear that a whole lot, she definitely hadn’t from Sean, if any of the stories she told him and the rest of their friends were anything to go by.

Just the thought of why she probably did that so much had him gripping the wheel. Giselle took a deep breath and opened her door, Adam doing the same, making his way around the car to fall into step beside her.

Her mother, to her surprise, didn’t do what she’d been thinking she’d do. She just pulled her into a hug before nodding to Adam as the hug broke with one of those knowing grins. “He’s the one you’re always hanging around with. The one you talk about a lot.” her mother turned to Adam and pulled the man into a hug.

“Adam, right?”

Adam chuckled and smiled as he nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Giselle almost reached out to feel her mother for a temperature, because honestly, she’d been expecting a thousand questions and even more hints at ‘potential blind dates’ during the incoming week.

She found herself pressing against Adam as they followed her mother into the cabin. “Well that was weird.”

“What, darlin?”“Figured she’d start off by tellin me all about how she knew Sean was no good, then segue that into her, tryin to pawn me off on the pastor’s grandson or somethin like she did at Thanksgiving when Sean stood me up.. That was awkward, by the way, when she did it.”

Adam chuckled and yeah, maybe in the spirit of just being around her and feeling happier because of it, he leaned in and whispered against her ear, “Maybe I’m kind of a lucky charm then, darlin.”

Giselle’s breath caught in her throat at the way he leaned in - and more importantly, the way it made her feel when he did, and for a second, her mouth opened and closed because it had been… Flirtier than he tended to be.

… I have to be imagining it…

“Maybe you are.” she finally managed to get the words out, leaning into him a little as she did so. She toyed with the front of his tee shirt and stared up at him and he swallowed hard, staring right back down at her.

They sprang apart when Giselle’s mother called out to her from the kitchen.

“And here we go. I knew I spoke too soon. If I’m not back in ten minutes, Adam… Please.. Come drag me away.”

“Gladly.” he promised, chuckling to himself as she skipped down the hallway.

The second she was in the kitchen, her mother turned to her and smiled.

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my mama?” Giselle teased gently. Her mother sighed and then told her quietly, “ I like that one a lot better than Sean. Sean wasn’t..”

Giselle braced herself, tensing. Rather than hold back, she gave a sad sigh and shook her head, meeting her mother’s gaze as she let it all pour out.

“Are you sure you don’t mean I wasn’t good enough for him? Because sometimes that’s how it feels. I mean you stay on my ass. If it’s not about my job, it’s about having a little fun now and then, or about when I’m going to make you a grandma… I just… I don’t know I can do anything to make you happy with me or proud of me.”

Her mother was staring at her, a confused look on her face. And then what Giselle was saying hit her and she sighed and shook her head, pulling her into a hug.

“It ain’t that at all. I just worry about you. If anything, Giselle, Sean wasn’t even close to good enough for you. When I said you were gonna mess up what you had with him last month it was because I thought that was what you wanted. I can’t even begin to tell ya how happy I was when you told me what happened last night. Everything else is just because I worry. You know your daddy died chasin his own dream.. I know what you do is dangerous. Just scares me.”

“Oh, mama..” Giselle hugged her mother back and then reminded her quietly, “Daddy died because he was drinkin and got behind the wheel. Not because of bull riding.”

“But he was on the way to a rodeo.”

Giselle nodded. “His own bad choice is what caused it though. Is that why you got so upset when I left to go audition with AEW?”

“A little, yeah.. Then you not ever bein home. It’s already enough that Madison lives all the way over in Georgia and I only get to see her and the kids at holidays.”

“Speaking of.. I didn’t see Brody and Maddi’s camper?”

“She’s been stayin here since Thanksgiving. After y’all had that fight and you put him on his ass, he took off. Hasn’t bothered callin or anything.”

Giselle sighed and shook her head, grabbing some dough, kneading it into a ball. “I’m sorry. I just thought… I mean you and Maddi have always been closer and I’ve just never really said anything but it bothered me.”

“I know, baby. I just let you be because you were always my big girl. Smarter and more able to fend for yourself when you got to that age.. I realized what you thought and I went overboard tryin to make up.”

“Yeah, you kinda did.” Giselle laughed, holding out the baking sheet lined with biscuits to her mother. “It’s okay though. As much as I whined about it, it kinda felt good.. Except that whole disaster with the pastor’s grandson.”

Her mother laughed and then nodded to the doorway. “ This one.. I have a feelin about him.”

“Mama, no.. He doesn’t see me that way. I.. believe me. That man knows the walking cluster of chaos I am.”

“You didn’t see what I did when he was standin by you on our porch just now, either. Just.. Open your eyes, yeah? Because sometimes, what you really want is standin right in front of you.”

Giselle laughed and shook her head as she raised the lid on the pot simmering on the stove. She groaned as the smell of chicken and dumplings hit her nose and she fanned the lid, calling out to Adam, “Hey! Hangman! C’mere a minute.”

Adam tore his eyes off all the old photos of her lining the hallway, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen. “I didn’t know you rode, darlin?”

“This one had two loves growin up.. Well three if you count fightin and givin me gray hairs.. Rodeo and wrestling. Her daddy used to call her the son he never had.”

Giselle blushed, shuffling her feet. “I actually have horses out in the barn.. And a bull but I don’t think you’d wanna try him. Son of a bitch is the whole reason I spent a good chunk of my summer senior year in a cast.” she grimaced and Adam chuckled, sniffing the air as he stepped over to the stove. Giselle held a spoon up to his mouth, laughing when he took a bite and flinched because it was too hot.

“You have to blow it first, ya crazy! Good lord.” she took the spoon back, blowing on it until the steam wasn’t rising into the air visibly and then she raised it to his mouth again.

Adam groaned and swallowed, staring at the pot. “ Don’t let me go crazy.”

“ It’s every person for themselves.. This is if there is any left after my sister’s little hellions get done, of course. Those kids are like walkin bottomless pits.”

Adam chuckled. She turned and swallowed hard as her eyes fixed on him and she realized just how close they stood. Giselle saw her mom wink as she hurried out of the kitchen, calling out, “Going outside. Those hellions are bein entirely too quiet.”

Neither one of them were backing away. Adam reached out and grabbed the spoon from where it sat on the counter and he pressed into her a little as he reached for the pot, raising the lid. He chuckled as he looked at Giselle and told her through a mouth full, “Might not be the kids you have to worry about eating all of this.”

Giselle nodded and bit her lip, eyes locked on the spoon.

This urge to just grab him by the jaw and kiss him popped up and took her completely by surprise.

“Everything went okay, right?”

“Surprisingly, yeah. I think my mama and I got a lot straight just then.”

“That’s great. I told you maybe if you tried talking to her..” Adam leaned in, dragging his thumb over her lower lip, some of the gravy from the chicken and dumplings was right in the center and he tried to resist wiping it away, but he couldn’t.

He raised his thumb to his mouth, passing it slowly between his lips, giving another groan as he did so.

The way there seemed to be a double meaning in the action had Giselle blushing and wondering where all these sudden little thoughts and urges were coming from. She took a shaky breath and nodded to the pot, making a joke to take the edge off on her end.

“Do I need to leave you alone with that pot, Adam?”

“Not at all, darlin.” Adam was still holding her gaze. He swallowed hard when she moved in just a little closer, raising to her tiptoes to wipe her own thumb across his lip, giggling as she told him, “Yeah, I still say you’re the only other person I know who is as messy as I am when it comes to eating.”

Adam’s lip quivered at the touch and he gripped her hip. He was just about to lean down and brush hair out of her eyes, but the screen door banged shut and three little boys rushed in, a little girl hot on their tail, arguing.

The two sprang apart and Giselle took a few deep breaths. Because despite knowing that what she wanted to do was probably not a good idea, especially not right now, she’d been about to just do it.

She’d been about to pull him down and kiss him until neither of them could breathe.

“Well? You two gonna just stand there all day or are you gonna go wash up for supper?” Giselle’s mother cut through the lingering heavy tension with her question and the two of them hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs to Giselle’s old room.

Adam leaned in the doorway, eyes darting around as he chuckled. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Giselle peeked in from the door that connected the bathroom to her bedroom.

“You like pink. You’re always sayin you don’t, but I knew.. Somehow, I knew. You liked pink.” he picked up a stuffed cow, turning it over in his hands as he snickered and added, “And stuffed animals.”

“Oh kiss my ass, Page.”

… oh… that’s not the part I wanna kiss at all… he had the thought but he tried to shove it out of his head. He walked over to the door she’d peeked out of and right as he was about to grab the handle, she opened it from the other side. He joked with a laugh, “We have got to stop meetin in doorways like this, darlin.. People are gonna start talkin.”

“And?” almost as soon as she said it, she felt her cheeks get hot all over again.

Had she seriously just tried flirting with her best friend?

And why did it seem to feel so very right?

She walked her fingers up the front of his tee shirt and nodded to the bathroom. “You need to wash those hands. My mama checks, trust me.”

“Oh she does, huh?” Adam found himself reaching out and toying with one of her curls, despite his best efforts not to. She stepped closer, nodding. Adam stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

He took a few deep breaths. He’d severely underestimated himself here. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know about her. The more hard it became to stop himself from just going for it; despite how bad an idea that might seem.

She’d just broken up with her ex. She didn’t need him putting his own wants first, especially not right now. He washed his hands and splashed some water on his face, stepping out of the bathroom and into her bedroom to find her sitting on her bed, staring at a photo in her hands, deep in thought.

Adam nodded to the photo and after jumping in surprise, Giselle explained quietly, “My dad.” as she held it out to show him.

… you kind of remind me of him… just… a whole lot more confident in yourself and settled and down to earth… maybe that’s why I’ve always kind of been afraid of this unknown way you make me feel. Maybe my mama is right. Maybe all this time I’ve been picking all the wrong ones because I was too scared to try picking the right one..

“Oh.” - the thought that Sean might have actually been right in his outright jealousy towards Adam in the past had her floored.

“Oh?” Adam echoed, staring at her intently, trying to gauge her mood at present but having a hard time because she seemed to be deep in her own mind. Her head snapped up and she bit her lip, taking back the photo that he held out to her, placing it on her nightstand by the bed. He sank down to sit next to her. “Is everything alright, Ele? You know if you’re feelin bad about..” he trailed off at the shaking of her head.

“It’s not that at all. This.. It’s a good thing? I just.. I have to think first.”

Adam nodded. It was literally all he could do. Beyond his next question to her, “Any chance you’re gonna tell me what’s goin on?”

Her answer only made that little sliver of hope he felt start to grow in leaps and bounds as she stood on her tiptoes, fluffed his hair and stared up at him, nodding her head. “As soon as I figure out how..”

“Y’all gonna come down and eat?”

“We better go down or my sister and her kiddos are gonna eat all the food.”

Adam zipped past her and down the stairs, Giselle hot on his heels, both of them sinking into the only two seats left at the table. They made faces at each other to crack each other up quietly through the whole blessing and as it finished, they started grabbing food from all the pots, plates and dishes piled in front of them on the middle of the table.

At one point, she kind of… Leaned into his side when she was talking to her sister about a fight that she’d apparently had with her sister’s ex and Adam chuckled in amusement, listening to a recount of the whole thing with one of the nephews tapping at his arm.

“My aunt really likes you a lot. She acts like my girlfriend at school when she’s around me.”

“Oh yeah, kid?”

“Mhm. She’s always touchin ya or leanin real close.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” Adam chuckled as he took a sip of the tea beside his plate.

XXX

“ Yikes. Mama really hasn’t been burning off any of the limbs that fell during that big storm, has she?” Giselle peered through the window and out into the backyard. Her sister leaned in and giggling, she nodded towards the living room across the hall, where Adam was being swarmed with kids, holding the little girl of the group on his knee.

“Angel don’t take well to strangers. But then again, you didn’t ever. And Adam seems to know you like the back of his hand..” her sister was quick to point out. “And you’re always around him on the road, always talking about him when you call to talk to me or Mama.”

Giselle had to say something. She couldn’t just keep what she was starting to think in relation to what her sister said, to herself. It was too big, now that she was really starting to realize just how she felt.

She shut the door and leaned against it so none of the kids could barge in and overhear then go back and repeat before she got the chance to tell Adam for herself.

Something she planned to do soon.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I just.. I need you to listen.”

“Okay?”

“I think… Oh hell, forget think.. Pretty sure that I’ve been in love with Adam for a while now and like… I’m kind of starting to realize exactly why Sean was always such a dick about the amount of time I spent with Adam before… I just… What if it’s only me? What if I tell him and he laughs his ass off?”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about that.. Are you planning on telling him?”

“Duh. Life’s too short to just like… Bury it or whatever.”

Not to mention, Giselle thought to herself, even if I wanted to forget.. I just have this feeling that it wouldn’t be easily done.

“You know… you could start a fire.”

“What the…” Giselle trailed off as her eyes lit on the growing pile of limbs and leaves out back of her mom’s house. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “But then the kids..”

“Hon, I can wrangle them. You just take the matches and that jug of gas on the back porch and go.. I’ll even make hot cocoa for you two.”

Giselle eyed her sister and her sister gave a wink. “You’re happy. I’m gonna do everything in my power to make this work. Besides, he’s so much better for you than that colossal pain in the dick Sean.”

She mulled it over a few seconds and took a deep breath. “Okay, yeah. Why not?”

“ Tonight’s perfect for it, I mean.. It’s all chilly out, that means you two can get all cozy.”

“The worst that can happen is that he tells me he’s just interested in being my friend. If I do it now, instead of waiting, I won’t have the risk of making the rest of the week really awkward too, so there’s that…” Giselle nodded and she stepped out into the hallway, leaning in the doorway of the living room.

“Hey, Adam… Feel like helping me build a bonfire out back?”

Adam looked up from what he’d been watching on tv and when he saw that look in her eyes again, it felt like the breath got knocked right out of him. He smiled and stood, nodding. “Yeah.”

He followed her out the door and on their way out, Giselle’s sister held out a bottle of Jameson. “That oughta keep y’all warm and cozy until I make the cocoa.”

Giselle swallowed hard as her gaze met Adam’s and she took the bottle, twisting off the top and taking a sip, almost instantly recoiling. “Holy shit, I forgot about the kick behind that stuff.”

Adam took the bottle, taking a few sips. “Hey, I can pull the car around, right? So we can use the headlights for light.”

Giselle nodded and found her keys in the pocket of her jacket, holding them out to him. Adam took the keys, going out to where they’d parked the car earlier and pulling it over near where they wanted to build the fire. Giselle was already dragging limbs and sticks and leaves, shimmying her hips at the song playing on an old radio she’d apparently plugged in on their back porch. Adam sat on the hood, watching her and chuckling.

He stood and made his way over to her, grabbing the end of a particularly heavy limb. Giselle looked back and smiled.

One of her real smiles. Not one of the ones he’d seen far too many of lately.

She turned to him and held out the match after she’d poured gas over the pile. “Thought maybe you’d wanna… Light it up?”

His hand curled around the hand she clutched the matches in and when he realized that she was migrating closer, he nodded, staring down at her lips a few seconds.

Giselle licked her lips, stepping even closer. “The fire..”

“Yeah, I’ll light it.” Adam chuckled, stepping away. When he glanced back up at her, she was pouting a little. He wandered back over and she leaned against his side. He was staring at the fire, but he could feel her staring, so he looked down at her.

“This is nice.”

“It really is.” Giselle held out the bottle to Adam and he declined. She raised it to her lips again, trying to will herself to just go for it already.

She’d said it best earlier when she said life was too short not to go for what she actually wanted for a change, stop settling for whatever random thing or person caught her eye.

But being right and going for it were… Two totally different things.

They started to play an older song on the country station the radio was tuned into and before Adam stopped himself, he asked quietly, “Wanna dance?”

“Yeah.”

Adam pulled her close and put his arms around her, humming the lyrics to the song quietly. Giselle tilted her face up and stared at him, biting her lip. The hand on his shoulder dug in just a little as she tried to work up her nerve. She pressed completely against him and Adam barely stopped himself from gasping quietly, nose pressed into her hair.

“Ele?”

“Yeah?” her voice came out in a quiet whisper as her mouth brushed right against his once she looked up at him again. Adam gripped hold of her hips, mumbling “I gotta do something, I can’t just..” into her mouth as his own crashed against it hungrily. She gripped his tee shirt and the hand at his shoulders ventured up, fingers tangling in the ends of his hair, making him groan quietly. When her tongue slipped between his lips, he opened up a little more, allowing her tongue complete access as he slid his hands down lower, squeezing her ass and sliding her up his body.

“Me either, I…” Giselle’s words were a breathless whisper as her eyes fluttered open when the kiss broke for a few seconds, just to stare at him. “I realized earlier that I’m kind of an idiot.”

“No, no.. Shh.”

“I am though. I mean it’s been you, this entire time and I was just too afraid to do something.” Giselle admitted, waiting on him to say something. Adam grinned, pulling her mouth back against his as his fingers tangled in the ends of her hair after he sat back against the hood of the car, her legs wrapped around him.

The crackle of the fire behind them had him chuckling, pressing his forehead to hers. “Was that why you wanted to come out and burn a bonfire?”

“It was. I was… trying to figure out a way to tell you that wasn’t me just awkwardly blurting it out.. Why, did you like the idea?”

“I did. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go for a ride or somethin, I just.. Hell, I’d try but I couldn’t ever do it. Didn’t wanna push or anything, considering last night….”

“Truthfully? I was actually relieved when all that played out. And it really made me stop and think..”

“Oh yeah?”

“I want you.”

“Oh you do, hm?” Adam pulled her closer, hands raking through her hair as he told her quietly, “That can be arranged, darlin.. I think you’ve had me for a while now, honestly.”

#adam hangman page fanfiction #adam hangman page fanfic #adam hangman page fic #adam hangman page oneshot #adam hangman page imagine #// part 2 of 2.

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