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readyplayerhobi · 4 years ago

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Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 02

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 6.5k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: After almost three months of no writing...I finished this chapter :) I hope you enjoy...please leave me feedback in the form of comments or an ask. The long break has made me worry about a bit about whether people will even read my stuff anymore lol

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The next two months pass by with only a few growing pains in terms of teaching. You’d discovered pretty quickly that a group of twenty students could easily turn into pure and utter chaos. Particularly when one of them accidentally turns another into a turnip.

That had not been the best first-week experience if you were being honest.

There had been a few minutes when you’d been convinced

But you were certainly getting used to everything. It was odd being on the other side now, being the one who commanded attention from the students. You had an almost desperate need to be liked by them at first, but the other professors had quickly dissuaded you from that. They were not your friends, and you’d learnt that if you gave them an inch then they’d take a mile.

It had been pleasant though, and you were certainly enjoying everything. There was nothing better than the smile on a student’s face when they got a spell right, with the knowledge that you’d been the one to teach them that.

The comments you’d been told on your first note about the house stereotypes had also proven to be true. You’d never seen so many Slytherin’s chatting happily with Gryffindor’s and so forth. Whole friendship groups were made up of varying houses and none appeared to be left out. Nor had you seen any house related bullying as there had been in your day.

Once typical insults of a Slytherin being home to a Death Eater had vanished for the most part. The one time you had seen it, hurled by a Hufflepuff of all things, had resulted in complete outrage amongst all the students. It had warmed your heart to see the younger generations working in far better harmony than yours or your previous generations ever had.

Chaeyoung had become the equivalent of your work best friend, bringing her marking over to your office and spending time chatting happily with you. Seokjin had also become a close friend or at least as close as someone could get in only two months. The two of them were fascinating, coming from vastly different lifestyles.

Her family were practically magical royalty in France, though she’d moved to the UK whilst only a child to live with her grandparents after the deaths of her parents. As such, she’d ended up attending Hogwarts and had been in the year below Hoseok. Despite her initial French upbringing, she had no hint of an accent though she’d spouted fluent French to you when you’d queried her language abilities.

She also spoke Spanish, which had led to her initially getting a job as a translator at a magical exporting company. It had amused you thoroughly that it had been based in Devon, along the southern coast of England with France just over the narrow Channel Sea. Chaeyoung had laughed at the time, acknowledging that the mild weather was much nicer than the temperamental mistress you had to contend with here in northern Scotland.

It hadn’t proven to her liking though, and she’d soon ended up applying for the vacant History of Magic position. She’d been quick to explain that she’d taken up an extra qualification in her chosen area and that she wasn’t just randomly picked. You knew from Jisoo that muggles had a different way to education, but there were no real universities here in the wizarding world.

Chaeyoung studied hard enough and was very knowledgeable about her chosen area, so you didn’t see too much issue regarding it. And she was a popular teacher, helping to turn a subject that many would often find dull into something fun and interesting.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was older than you. He was 36, with a wife of ten years and two young sons. He’d trained in astronomy in the Ministry and had brought his skills to Hogwarts three years ago. You’d ended up bonding together over your dual experiences in the Ministry; both lamenting over the different departments and positions you’d had yet the same bureaucratic headaches.

He was a joyful sort with a smile always on his face for you and his students along with a genuine passion for the stars and the universe. You knew that he made it a goal to read much of what the muggles were doing, his fascination with the fact that they’d been to space bordering on an almost obsession.

It was no surprise to you that these have been the two that you had ended up so close with. Both had the experience of working outside of Hogwarts and that seemed to make you all different from the other professors. Everyone else had interned here immediately after finishing before taking on their chosen role.

Jimin came from a long line of auror wizards and witches that stretched back centuries. This meant that he had extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts inherited from their wise teachings. His mother and father still worked in the Ministry, which meant that he’d slipped into the Defence Against the Dark Arts position with ease.

Which was a good thing as it had remained an awkward position after the Second Wizarding War. It was a role that was often hard to fill as some many witches and wizards felt that it would be best to ignore that the Dark Arts even existed. If no one knew about the Dark Arts, and all the horrific violence and devastation that had occurred with them, then there wouldn’t be any need to defend it.

That was, of course, a most ridiculous idea and Hogwarts had firmly resisted any such attempts to whitewash both the history and the concept of the Dark Arts. By not acknowledging what happened, and teaching to both understand why it happened alongside how to protect against it, then it would just happen again.

But it remained an exceptionally unpopular position due to the intimate knowledge of the Dark Arts required. To know how best to protect against the Dark spells, you had to know what the Dark spells were.

You had experienced at least three professors during your tenure as a student.

That had all changed five years ago though when Park Jimin had finally taken over when his predecessor had packed it all in to go and study the famous dragons in Romania. The handsome silver-haired professor was young, but he had won over the staff of the prestigious school with his astonishingly good spellwork.

The fact that he had also made short work of their hearts was because he was also incredibly good looking, much to his benefit when it came to dating you were sure.

Jimin wasn’t just a pretty face though; he was the best dueller in the school. From what you’d been told, he had yet to be bested. Which honestly, was to be expected from someone with such a prestigious bloodline as his.

But not only that, he’d proven to be sweet and kind to his students with a backbone of steel as well. While there may be no true bad blood between houses now, Slytherin still garnered an air of suspicion from other houses even to this day.

Given the preponderance of dark witches and wizards that the house had produced over the years, it was a well-earnt suspicion, unfortunately. Still, you didn’t believe that the bad decisions and choices made by people long ago should have any bearing on your current students; all of them born long after those terrible events.

Jimin had proven to be an excellent example of why you should never stereotype people based on what others had done. In your opinion, he was an exceptional teacher and had taken on the helm of the Defence Against the Dark Arts role with the clear mindset of not only helping to protect his students but also to try and prevent them from making poor choices.

It was a tough subject to teach as it meant constantly walking a narrow line while also steering students true through narrow and murky waters. There were plenty of students who might find themselves a little too fascinated in the concept of the Dark Arts, after all.

According to Chaeyoung, Jimin tried to combat this by making sure to teach them about the history of the Dark Arts. From what you understood, he held no punches in making sure they all knew the horrific acts of murder and sacrifice that had been committed to preventing students from romanticising a dark part of wizarding history.

Not only that, but he made sure to teach about the most infamous dark wizards in history; the Death Eaters and Voldemort. This was all to ensure that they did not repeat the mistakes of the past. He took his role seriously, whether it was through spellwork or simply enriching the minds.

Despite his relative youth, you’d come to know him as passionate and hard-working with a true love for his students. Whether they be in Slytherin or Gryffindor. It was just one of the many things that you had come to grow to love about Hogwarts in your short time here so far, the way the school had adapted and grown so quickly.

Hogwarts was a castle that had been built from stone carved centuries ago and housed ancient treasures of the wizarding world, but the Battle of Hogwarts had been a turning point for many. No longer did it constantly look at the past with pure pride, and to many - ignorance, but instead looked to the future as well.

It sought to teach well-rounded wizards and witches that would enrich the community. Which meant it had attempted to modernise itself as much as it could. Of course, it didn’t match the sparkling modernity of steel and technology that the muggle world had developed over the last two centuries but it was improving itself and working to develop new magics that would mirror some of the advancements that the muggles had made.

Perhaps the only thing you’d found a little awkward to embrace was teaching itself. You’d been eager to begin but had quickly realised that teaching was much more complicated than you’d imagined. For all of the good things that Hogwarts was doing lately, it seemed odd to you that they didn’t even bother teaching their professors to teach.

A few discussions with some of the others had revealed that they also had this issue when they’d started. It seemed to have been easier for those who hadn’t spent too much time away from the school after they’d graduated but it had been a long time since you’d been schooled here. Teaching methods had changed and you’d struggled to maintain a healthy balance of actually teaching, answering questions to help students, having open hours to encourage students who were struggling to have extra tuition and finding time to mark the essays that you handed out.

In short, it had been a very steep learning curve for yourself. Thankfully, your students had given you the benefit of the doubt, which meant they’d been very accepting of any mistakes you’d made. You’d also worked with the other professors to establish a good teaching plan for each of your lessons while also cross-referencing to ensure students weren’t loaded with too much homework.

It was more work than you’d expected, which made you understand how naive you’d been. But you found it to be satisfying work and the reward of seeing students learn and retain their knowledge throughout their lessons was better than anything you’d done in your previous job. And that was to say nothing about the pure wonder and joy on the faces of the first-year students when you had begun their education.

Underlying all of your experiences so far though was one Jung Hoseok. Whilst you’d become quick friends with Seokjin and Chaeyoung, Hoseok was a strange enigma to you. He was friendly and always willing to help you whenever you got confused over something or were feeling a little stressed.

His job as the Care of Magical Creatures professor meant that you rarely saw him during school hours. A large portion of his time was spent outside in the Forbidden Forest or in the custom-built buildings that housed many of the fantastical creatures that he cared for. You knew that he did have a classroom though. It wasn’t anywhere near yours but it held a lot of the smaller creatures that didn’t do so well in the Scottish climate.

Hoseok’s commitment to his job was commendable as he often spent a lot of hours outside. Which meant that as the months slowly shifted to winter, he was finding himself in the cold and rain a lot more often than not.

More than once, you’d spotted him outside when peeking through one of your classroom windows and noted him completely drenched as the rain poured down. It made you cringe each time you saw it, knowing that his robes would be heavy with water. But he never complained about it, even though he was the only professor who also had to work on the weekends.

On top of that, he was also busy with being the Head of Hufflepuff. From what you understood from your talks with Jimin, it meant always being available outside of learning hours for his House students. Whether they wanted to talk about a problem they had or simply needed advice, he was there to help them with whatever they needed.

It also meant that he had to attend every Quidditch game, and you wondered how he managed to cope with such a full schedule. You felt exhausted after a week of just your normal work but knowing how much extra he put in was mind-blowing.

Despite this though, you’d noticed over time that Hoseok always made sure to be present for every meal in the Great Hall. And much like the first meal you’d shared at the top table, he always sat next to you. You hadn’t thought anything of it until Seokjin had casually mentioned one day while you’d been at Hogsmeade with him and Chaeyoung that he’d never sat in that place before.

His old spot was actually on the other side of the table, next to Taehyung and Jimin. Seokjin hadn’t even thought anything of his comment but it had caused you to pause, wondering why Hoseok had felt the need to change his position. At the time, you’d simply shrugged and pointed out that you’d known him when he was younger and that his sister was your best friend.

It only made sense that he wanted to be there to help you out and make sure you were okay.

But that excuse started to falter when you thought about the fact that he never mentioned Jisoo to you. Hoseok didn’t mention anything of the past that you both shared. Instead, he would talk about Hogwarts now and your jobs or ask about what life was like at the Ministry when you’d been there. Those topics often led off onto little tangents and you’d both find yourselves chattering away with each other as the meals went on.

The others would get involved too when they could, but there was something...singular about Hoseok’s focus. And that was to say nothing of how he always made sure to walk you back to your quarters after dinner. There was never much talk that happened then, instead, the two of you simply enjoyed the architecture and decoration of Hogwarts as you found different ways to get back, the company exquisite in its silence.

A comfortable silence that you hadn’t found with many other people.

Chaeyoung was convinced that Hoseok liked you. You’d tried to debunk that theory by pointing out that he’d fancied you when he was younger and it was probably just the allure of an older girl who was more accessible to him than others. You were always around given your friendship with his sister and he’d probably just transferred his teenage hormones onto you at the time.

If anything, he was probably embarrassed about how obvious he was back then. Poor Hoseok had never been subtle in anything.

Despite your defence, Chaeyoung had simply given you a look that you hadn’t been able to interpret. Nor did you understand the subtle glances and smirks that she exchanged with Seokjin whenever Hoseok sat next to you at the dining table. It was like there was a silent conversation happening between the two of them about you, only you weren’t included in it.

Thankfully, you weren’t the type of person to be too influenced by other’s thoughts and opinions. So you didn’t let Chaeyoung’s opinion on the subject impact upon your burgeoning friendship with Hoseok. So even though there was a voice in the back of your mind telling you that there was something more, you ignored it and chose not to ruin the fledgeling friendship you had.

You’d felt a sense of relief though that Chaeyoung had been too busy with marking papers to attend dinner last night, which meant that she hadn’t been able to overhear your conversation with Hoseok last night. The two of you had been discussing his lesson plans for the next few weeks and what creatures his students were going to be studying.

He’d suddenly gotten an odd look on his face before grinning. If there was one thing you had learnt upon being back at Hogwarts, it was that Hoseok’s smile was perhaps one of the prettiest things you’d ever seen. Which was why you’d smiled back at him immediately, even though you had no idea what he was so happy about.

But he hadn’t made you wait and had instead asked if you were tonight. You’d acknowledged it and confusion had been written all over your face but he’d just given an enigmatic shrug. All he’d said after that was to meet him at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest an hour after dinner.

Which was why you were now standing in the dark. Your robes were wrapped tightly around you but it did nothing to stop the way you shivered, jaw tight as a cold wind rushed through the trunks of the trees before you. Part of you wanted to run back to the castle if only to grab your winter coat, but you didn’t want to look like you’d stood Hoseok up.

Though you did wish he’d turn up quicker rather than later.

Huddling under your cloak more, you clasped the edges together with your hands and pushed it up to cover your mouth and nose. It didn’t do a whole lot against the cold, but it was better than being exposed to it. Even though the wind wasn’t strong, it was still enough to cause your robes to flap, the sound loud against the quiet of the grounds.

The only other sound right now was the wind as it howled through the Forbidden Forest, making the already dark and ominous area look even scarier. Even though you were now an adult, there was an underlying fear of the forest before you. Perhaps it was because it had been firmly ingrained in you as a student that this area was off-limits or something.

Still, you wouldn’t want to go walking around in it on your own anytime soon.

The sight of the trees suddenly moving ahead of you made you gasp quietly, body freezing in position as you squinted to try and see what it had been. You knew that the forest was full of many magical creatures; not all of them gentle and kind.

Swallowing hard, you stayed in place to try and avoid attention, gaze skittering around as you tried to find that shape once more. A branch cracking caused you to flinch, your hands tightening into fists around the material of your cloak and you had to clench your jaw to stop any noise from escaping.

The black shape formed once more ahead of you and you almost shrieked in fright, getting ready to run away until you saw a sudden flash of brighter colour. Frowning, you let your hands unclasp themselves until you realised it was a yellow scarf and realisation flooded through your body.

“Bloody hell!” You cursed, the syllables being spat with indignation. Hoseok looked up in surprise, his own eyes widening in surprise before concern etched itself onto his face when he saw the dual outrage and fear on you. Striding forward, you met him just as he was about to cross over the boundary of the trees onto the grounds of the castle and poked at this chest, a scowl on your face.

“You didn’t think to warn me you were going to be coming from the forest! Merlin’s beard, I almost ran away because I was afraid it was something that was going to hurt me.” Hissing at him, you realised belatedly that you had to look up to him to do this. Damn him and his growth spurt.

Still, he at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Sorry, I didn’t think it might seem a little scary. I was just coming back from checking on the centaurs; I haven’t been able to meet them in a while and wanted to see if they were okay.” His explanation was logical but it still made you scowl.

“Why aren’t you carrying a light or something?! Do you always just gallivant around the Forbidden Forest in the dark? Aren’t there dangerous things here?” You pepper him with the questions quickly, each one causing his brow to rise higher incrementally. It’s a good job that it’s dark because you don’t notice the way the corner of his lips quirks up in amusement at your tirade.

“I don’t use one in there, not normally. I know my way around very well. I have worked in this forest for years now. But I do have lanterns dotted around in case I need one and I can always use a lumos spell, like now. I figured you wouldn’t want to journey in the dark.” At that, he pulls his wand out of a pocket in his robes and mutters the spell, the tip lighting up with bright white.

Narrowing your eyes at the sudden influx of light, you’re momentarily startled by just how handsome Hoseok looks in the light. It casts an almost blue glow to him, his normally sun-kissed skin looking paler than you’ve ever seen it before. The shadows on his face only serve to highlight the sharp angles of his features while his eyes almost glitter.

It’s only then that you realise you’re staring, quickly averting your gaze away and focusing them on your hands instead. At that moment, another harsh wind blows through and you shiver in response, your shoulders lifting as you try to curl in on yourself.

Gripping your cloak once more, you’re too distracted to notice what Hoseok is doing. The only sign is the light going a little wonky for a few moments before you’re startled by the sudden feeling of softness on your neck.

Letting out a small ‘eep’ of surprise, you jerk away only to see Hoseok staring at you with wide eyes, his scarf no longer wrapped around his neck and instead being held out to you. The Hufflepuff colours look washed out in the odd light and you pause, giving him a confused look as you glance between the scarf and him.

Brows raised, he lifts the item before giving you a slow smile. “You’re cold. You can wear this if you want. It’s not as chilly in the forest but I don’t want you to get poorly because of it. I should have warned you, sorry.”

It seems like all he’s done is apologise so far and it makes you feel bad, causing you to nod your head and take the scarf from him. Wrapping it around your neck, you immediately feel a little warmer and you can’t help but take a deep inhale of the scent woven into the soft fibres. It’s a more concentrated form of what you get to smell every meal time; citrus and something with a slight hint of spice.

For a second, you wonder if it’s a cologne it’s bought himself or if perhaps it’s something a woman bought for him. It suits him, either way.

“Are you ready? You don’t have to come if you’re feeling uncomfortable or anything…” Hoseok trails off, biting his lip in an almost nervous way that makes you feel a little odd. Pushing the thought away, you hum and glance behind him into the forest. Your curiosity was too much and so you nodded firmly, giving him a gentle smile before gesturing for him to start walking.

Without another word, he turns around and begins to walk once more. You notice casually that he’s following a path cut into the forest, the ground level and even compared to the wildness all around you. Alongside the sound of your boots on the dirt, you realise that there are a few other noises all around you.

The gentle hoot of an owl is overwhelmed by a shriek far away, causing a chill to run up your spine. Shuffling forward a little quicker, you almost reach out to Hoseok as a tinge of fear takes over. As if he can tell, he turns around and gives you a concerned look.

“What was that?” Whispering, you glance around and wonder if you should talk loudly. Hoseok looks in the same direction as you do before shrugging slightly.

“Could be anything. This forest is full of creatures, both magical and mundane. Might be a bat or could be something else. Don’t worry though, there’s not usually anything dangerous around this part of the forest. It’s too close to the edge and the creatures that can do the most harm prefer to remain deep within the forest.” It’s almost casual the way he slows to walk alongside you, giving you the safety of his presence but you notice it all the same.

Not that you comment on it, of course. But you appreciate it nonetheless.

Giving him a noncommittal sound, you continue until he takes a sudden turn off the path. The forest floor is dense with foliage and tree roots, causing you to trip a few times. Hoseok helps you along, reaching you to hold your arm to keep you upright when you trip over one too many roots and you get the sense he’s enjoying this.

Maybe it’s because he lets out a soft chuckle when you swear loudly, scowling down at the deeply embedded rock that you’d accidentally kicked. Despite the fact your best friend’s little brother is leading you deep into a scary, dark forest, you don’t feel any concern about him. What could be in the forest, sure, but not him.

He gives off a sense of security that surprises you. All those years ago, Hoseok had been the perfect example of an annoying little brother to Jisoo. Always irritating her and doing things with the sole purpose of being a pain, which in turn meant doing those things to you as well. But now he seemed dependable and you got the sense that you’d want him with you if anything bad happened.

“Okay, we’re almost there. Now, I need you to stay very calm and don’t make any large or sudden movements. You might scare her.” Staring at him in alarm, you suddenly realise that you’ve not even questioned what he’s wanting to show you. Not that he’d have told you, you’re positive of that, but his instructions make you feel a little uneasy.

Upon seeing your face in the light of his wand, he gives a small smile and rests his hand on your arm reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, I promise, you’re going to like this. You’ll understand what I mean.” Frowning at him, you watch as he starts forward once more and realise he’s heading into a little clearing. Sighing deeply, you realise that you don’t want to stand there on your own so you follow him slowly, almost hesitant to see whatever he’s bringing you to.

You swear, if it’s one of those obscenely large spiders that’s supposed to live in this forest then you’re going to jinx him with something he’ll still be suffering from in a year.

The clearing is small and almost circular, though the position of some trees makes it seem a little broken in places. Long grass that is almost bouncy cushions your feet and you wonder if flowers would grow in the daylight, the canopy of trees above broken and allowing more sky through than elsewhere.

During the day it would get a lot of sunlight, but at the moment you couldn’t help staring in awe at the moon as it glowed brightly, it’s full body visible against the black of the sky. A few stars twinkled serenely alongside it, looking peaceful and creating a beautiful image.

A pale, ghostly colour catches your attention from the corner of your eye and you find yourself pressing to Hoseok a little closer. His back is strong and solid against your hands as you tense in concern, peeking around him to try and catch what it was.

What you see causes you to gasp out loud, letting go of Hoseok’s robes abruptly as you take a wide step away from him to get a better view.

Long, sinewy legs move through the forest in an almost dainty manner, picking their way through the undergrowth with care and precision. There’s almost no sound as the creature moves towards the clearing, only the softest rustle of leaves that can’t be avoided. It’s fascinating how quietly it can move given its size and you wonder if it’s some magical ability that allows that.

Within moments, the shape coalesces into a clearer image as it passes through the edge of the trees on the other side of the clearing. A silver coat practically glows under the moonlight, giving the creature an ethereal feel that makes you feel that it’s not even real. That you’re just seeing an apparition instead of a real animal.

The horn on its head is long and spiralling, ending in a deadly point while the pale white mane and tail flow in elegant waves towards the ground. Golden hooves paw softly at the grass, glinting slightly.

A unicorn.

“Merlin’s beard…” You whisper, pressing a hand to your mouth before looking at Hoseok. “A unicorn...that’s a unicorn!”

They were rare creatures, even rarer now due to being hunted over the centuries by both muggles and wizards. Muggles thought them a myth now while you knew the rumour of the powerful properties that unicorn blood had. You hadn’t even known the Forbidden Forest had unicorns in them.

“It is. I haven’t named her, seems a little wrong to name her. They normally don’t really like men but I found her when she was injured two years ago. She was dying and I helped nurse her back to health. Unicorns have great memories and we’ve kind of become...friends? Or as much of a friend as you can be to one.” He finishes, smiling as he watches the unicorn snort almost in agreement.

Her eyes are a deep black in the moonlight but you note they look almost friendly and kind. Hoseok’s hand on your back pushes you forward slightly, causing you to start and look back at him with wide eyes.

“Move slowly...hold your hand out to her so she can see it and smell it. Be careful and like I said...no sudden moves. You’re a woman so she’s more likely to accept you anyway, but she’ll let you know if she’s not happy.” Gulping, you nod and take a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, you try to stop the trembling in your limbs.

Whether it’s from excitement at finally getting to see your favourite magical creature in the flesh or fear of being gored to death by that dangerous horn, you don’t know. But you follow Hoseok’s words, trusting him to be right.

Slowly, you walk forwards with your hand out, palm side up. Each step you take, you stare intently at the body of the unicorn to try and catch any movement that might be viewed as hostile. Given she had four legs, there was no way you could outrun her but you’d at least like to say you had a head start.

Despite your worry, she makes no threatening moves. If anything, she seems cautiously curious; her ears pricked forwards towards you and her eyes remaining focused solely on you. Not a muscle in her body moves, only the chilly wind blowing through her mane and tail.

Finally, you’re almost within touching distance of her. But instead of carrying on, you stop. Something inside you tells you that it’s a good idea to do that, to let her come to you and accept you. So you remain standing there with your palm held out to her, watching her closely.

Nostrils slightly darker than the rest of her body flare wide a few times, likely taking in as much air as she can to smell you. It isn’t enough though and she slowly extends her neck out, her refined head stretching out until you can feel the hotness of her breath. Not moving, you let her investigate until finally, she takes one careful step forward and presses the velvety softness of her muzzle into your hand.

Smiling, you let her increase the pressure before turning your hand and gently stroking her. There’s a moment of almost curiosity in her eyes, not that you can tell what a unicorn is feeling, before she lets out a huff of air and leans her head into your touch, obviously enjoying the feeling.

Your smile turns into a wide grin as you run your hand along her face slowly, letting her get used to the feel of you before you gently scratch at her chin. Almost instantly her ears flatten and you feel a pang of panic, but she just lifts her head and lets out a nicker of contentment, giving you a better position.

“She likes you.” You hear from beside you, and you turn to see Hoseok patting the unicorn’s neck.

Turning away from you momentarily, the mare lets out a soft whinny as she looks behind her into the forest. Frowning, you crane your head to try to see what she’s looking at. Soft footfalls being and you look at Hoseok in confusion, tilting your head at the sight of his grin.

Before you can ask him what’s going on, there’s a high pitched neigh and the mare turns her head back to you, butting at your hand gently. Glancing to her side, your jaw drops once more and you can’t help but squeal lightly.

A foal is standing next to her, it’s coat fluffy with baby fur and a beautiful golden that contrasts completely from its mother. There’s no horn on its head, only a tiny nub that will one day grow long and tall. Gangly legs look too long for its body and the short, fuzzy tail make you coo in delight as it flicks it from side to side eagerly, those big eyes staring at you as it almost dances in place.

Looking at its mum, you almost ask for the permission with a hand raised in the foal's direction and you could swear the unicorn almost nods. Slowly, you move towards the foal and stroke along its short neck, marvelling at how soft and fluffy it is. The foal snorts, its entire body wobbling from the movement and you giggle in delight, completely awed by the sight of them both.

“She had this foal only a month ago, so he’s still pretty small. But he’s a sweetheart and so friendly. As you probably know, he’ll keep that gold coat for two years before paling out to silver.” Hoseok says casually, still stroking the mare and smiling at her fondly.

For a few minutes, you’re too busy playing with the foal to pay attention to his words but they finally sink in.

“What do you mean, as you probably know?” Neither of you had discussed unicorns so far during your mealtime talks, so you didn’t know why he’d think that. Sure, you’d been taught about unicorns in school but that had been so long ago and it hadn’t even been a full class on them.

Your love of them had meant you’d learnt much more about them, absorbing all the information you could find in books when you were a teenager. The fact that you were finally standing here, stroking not only a unicorn but also her foal was something that you’d always wished you could do. Given how rare they were though, you’d never expected it to happen.

“Well, they’re your favourite magical creature, right? Or they were, anyway.” He frowns slightly, unsure if he’s got something wrong and you simply stare at him for a moment.

Had he remembered that from when you’d been at Hogwarts? Given your love of them, it was only natural that he’d known about them back then given how often you’d spent time at his house to have sleepovers with Jisoo. But you’d have thought he’d have forgotten all about that by now.

Jisoo didn’t even remember this as you’d both grown over the years, the obsession of teenagers mellowing out. Unicorns remained your favourite magical creature, but you didn’t hold that deep passion that you did back then. The fact that Hoseok had remembered stunned you into silence for a moment though, causing you to frown down at the foal.

“Yeah...yeah, they are. I...I mean...thank you. For remembering and showing me this, this is amazing. I’ll never forget this, Hoseok.” You’re not entirely sure how to thank him properly, because you don’t know of anyone else who could show you a unicorn like this.

Before you can say anything else or Hoseok can respond, you’re both distracted by the way the foal lets out a squeal and butts his head into you lightly before jumping away. Taken aback, you watch him for a moment for he does it again, his impossibly slim legs wobbling slightly as he trips on a rock.

“He wants you to play,” Hoseok says softly, smiling as he watches you both. Glancing to him, you raise a brow before grinning back at the baby unicorn. Tilting your head at him, you purse your lips before jumping forward and raising your hands in claw motions. Almost immediately, the foal leaps forward before darting back to you and you giggle, already planning your next move.

Yeah, okay, you might be thirty-three years old...but you were going to play with the baby unicorn.

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issaxcharlie · 4 years ago

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We say we're friends, we play pretend (2/2 )You're more to me, we're everything

PART 1 HERE

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem reader

Summary: Charlie and Y/N were best friends and a couple as teens, after their breakup they meet again 4 years later on JATP and have to work together. Will they be able to recover more than their friendship?

If Charlie knew anything in life, it was that he had to take things carefully. Especially with such strong feelings involved. In general, when you like someone, the least you want is for that person to see you as a friend, but particularly for them, recovering their friendship bond was the most important step.

“You were so cute!” Tori and Owen are looking at photos of the guitarist's childhood on his phone. A photo of little Charlie in a suit grinning from ear to ear while holding a girl as if he is spinning her around shows up.

That memory is one of his favorites. He was always a very loved boy with many friends, but in the case of girls he was not the most popular. His best friend on the other hand was, at least for him, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and boys were always around her. He knew he needed to find a partner for the dance so that she wouldn't feel guilty or he wouldn't feel humiliated by not having someone to go with.

However, he was rejected, quite a few times. He didn’t want to say anything about the dance to his best friend that week because he knew that she would stay home with him without hesitation. But that day half an hour before, he arrived in a suit and flowers for her, so at least he could have a picture of such an important moment with the person he loves the most, and he was the one surprised.

“It was about time Char, we have to take about 30 pictures before we go. Mom bought you a tie so we can match." She is up and down looking for one of her shoes, not even turning to see her friend who doesn’t know if he understood correctly.

At that moment she finally turns to see him and runs for a hug, Charlie barely had time to raise his arm with the flowers.

“You look so handsome, and the flowers are perfect. Best partner ever, I love you so much C! I’ll be ready in a second.”

She had planned to go with him from the beginning, and thought it was an implicit pact. That realization made Charlie's heart beat a lot faster that day. No matter how many people invited her, she wanted to go with him. He spent the night with his favorite person dancing and singing, feeling grateful for her, this light who always chooses him of all people.

“I looked pretty good in those clothes.” Y/N says as she and Madison sit at the table.

“You always look amazing, but yeah that night was special.” It's also the night that he realized that he was feeling more than friendship for his best friend, but this is not the time to talk about it.

He decides to continue preparing his waffles, than even though it already has like 5 ingredients, it seems something is missing.

Y/N blushes a little and smiles. “Here, handsome.” She hands him a can of pringles that she grabbed from the cafeteria when she saw him making eggo’s.

“Perfect, Y/N Y/L teaching everyone why she's my soulmate.” Everyone at the table begins to complain about what they qualify as the most disgusting thing they have ever seen, while the former couple smiles happily as they secretly link their legs under the table and continue their breakfast.

Little details like that one, or as removing all the products that she would take with milk from her hands because she seems to forget every morning that she is allergic can make a difference.

“You are 22 years old and you are still as careless as when we were children, I do not understand how you have survived these 4 years."

“You were always the one who cared about it and kept me safe, I guess unconsciously having you close my brain says, ‘no worries, Char will take care of it.’ So I’m sorry, I'll be more careful.”

A seriously ill 10-year Y/N on the way to the hospital invaded Charlie's mind, whom quickly shook off the bad memory.

“It’s all good, bright star.”

“What did you say?” Madison asks.

“Bright star. I know Kenny calls her ‘golden star’, but he’s the copycat. I've been calling her like that all my life.”

Y/N just smiles, enjoying the moment. She had not heard those words from his lips for years, and honestly Kenny also calling her a star even If it was sweet, made her remember Charles practically every day, and that didn’t help at all to get over the guitarist.

“You are my brightest burning star.” Madison replies, looking at Charlie with amusement in her eyes.

At that moment the actor understands what is going through his co-star's head and panics.

“So this queen is the one who has you so inspired, I should have realized it before.”

“She’s always my inspiration, period.” Y/N starts to laugh while blushing, and Madison’s attention falls completely on her.

“And I guess ‘Bright’ is a coincidence? And rise through the night, you and I, We will fight to shine together...Bright forever.” The songwriter wants to disappear at that precise moment while everyone turns to see her as if she had a third eye on her forehead.

“But you wrote bright long before you even knew Charlie was part of the proyect.” Owen adds, smirking.

“If you are asking me if I draw inspiration from the people I love, to write... the answer is yes. And yes, of course I love him.” How is it possible for the guitarist to slow things down when she says things like that in front of everyone? All he wants right now is to kiss her. This discovery means that despite the time she still had him in mind, the song cannot have been written for long. Hope is flooding his body.

“Ok but they inspiring each other is the sweetest thing in the world, goals right there.” Tori adds excited, her friends blushing.

All those teasing moments helped them to be more transparent with their feelings, hugging, touching, and basically staying close each time they finished their work obligations, almost as if they were afraid that the other would disappear or as if they were trying to make up for lost time.

“We need a lot more energy, especially from Charlie. Luke lives for music, nothing can give him more joy than being on stage."

"They have been working for 17 hours straight and at least 15 attempts with this musical." Paul tries to reason with Kenny mid-recording of Now or Never, which still does not come out as the director was expecting.

“What was in the recording studio that is not here now? I thought they would show an even greater energy than there after they stepped on stage."

They both turn to each other, as if the light had been turned on at the same time, and Paul takes his phone.

A few minutes later Y/N walks on set, Sunset Curve smiles upon seeing her.

“I wanted to make sure that we are fulfilling the vision of our beloved songwriter. Let's not disappoint her, okay? Let's try it one more time." Kenny shouts before starting to record again.

Instantly the energy is seen a thousand times higher, Charlie more radiant than ever, while Y/N replicates his energy behind the cameras, flooding him with sass and attitude. The young singer also motivates her now friends and unknowingly gave Sunset Curve that extra thing they needed to finally achieve the perfect performance. Kenny and Paul doing a fist bump behind the screens.

Soon their chemistry and energy turned into open conversation. The way they made everyone on set cry the first time they practiced Unsaid Emily or how connected and dreamy they were while dancing to Perfect Harmony when Madison wasn't on set.

But they still weren’t together, at least officialy.

If Charlie was honest, the fear of throwing himself all over and losing her again terrified him. The industry they love so much and decided to work in doesn't let having a relationship be easy, and if things go wrong again, they don't know if it might be possible to fix it again. It was basically a leap of faith.

Nonetheless, he knows he's willing, but what about her?

That morning he enters the set overwhelmed with his situation when he sees an even more overwhelmed Y/N walk by without even turning around, almost running to the recording studio.

“I advise you to give her some space for a few hours. Let's say she’s going to have a pretty difficult day."

"Why? What happened?" Jeremy asks as he and Owen stand next to the director.

“She got a call from the people at Netflix, they have already approved almost all the music except ‘Stand Tall’, the closing song, and her favorite. They will come in an hour to hear her presentation and convince them that it is good enough."

At that moment Charlie has an idea. There is no way that he will leave her alone, if he has the opportunity to help her he will do it and he’ll drag along all the people he needs to achieve it.

"Kenny, do you happen to have the music sheets for the song?"

“Don’t tell me-” Owen tries to ask but Charlie interrumpts him.

“Yes, let’s get to work boys.”

An hour later Y/N is freaking out, and she can't help but wish Charlie was around. Of all the days he could choose to disappear, he chose today.

She walks towards the auditorium, where to her surprise way more people than she expected are present, including most of the cast. But there is no sign of her lover boy anywhere.

Now or never. She takes a deep breath and start playing the keyboard. Her voice is the only thing that accompanies the keys. Everything is going as planned, but she can't help but feel distracted, nervous, and overwhelmed.

She is about to give up this fight internally when a drum before the second verse gives her the strength to continue singing, Owen smiles and winks at her to give her some peace of mind, and just a few seconds later Jeremy begins to accompany them with the bass. She knows whose idea it is and she just waits for him to come out from wherever he is hidden.

"I’m going out of my mind, Whatever happens, even if I'm the last standing I’ma stand tall, I’ma stand tall." His voice finishes waking her up and she accompanies him in the chorus, their chemistry electrifying everyone until every single person is standing, the cast supporting, dancing and clapping while the couple continues to focus on each other, separating out of obligation every so often but taking the opportunity to sing along with Jeremy and Owen who were doing an amazing job too, impacting with their solos.

The song ends and the boys disappear while Y/N talks to the people who came to evaluate her work, who finally approve the last song on the soundtrack that she has been working on for so long and to which she put all her soul.

The very second people outside the cast leave, Y/N looks for who has always been the boy of her life, the one who has proven that even though the years go by, they only need a few seconds to be themselves again, to be everything again. And as soon as she finds him hanging around only with the other 3 members of JATP she runs and jumps on him, entwining her legs at his hips and hugging him from the neck with all her strength, he immediately secures her by putting his arms around her waist.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The band starts screaming “Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” hoping that one of the two will already dare to take the next step, and Y/N stamps her lips against Charlie's, who reacts almost automatically and kisses her back hard, deciding quickly this is the happiest moment of his life. He finally got the girl, or with what just happened, her fierce girl got him.

Hours later both are in Y/N's apartment curled up on a sofa, enjoying being together again.

“Yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.”

Charlie chuckles at her random declaration. “What was that?”

“I’m practicing, and I wanted to say it aloud. I’m just so happy right now.”

His heart melts, she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. His brightest burning star.

His girlfriend doesn't give him time to reply, devouring his lips again. After all, she has four years to recover, and as always, he is more than willing to help her.

Thank you so much for reading!

NEXT PART HERE

Tag list:

@siennanoelle01

@reblogserpent

@kiss-themoongoodbye

@writerinlearning

@rachelle3musicals

#jatp luke #luke patterson fanfiction #luke x reader #luke patterson fic #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie imagines #jatp fanfiction #jatp fanfic #jatp imagine #charlie gillespie

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batgurl1989 · 4 years ago

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A Campsite To Remember

Summary: You and Henry go camping

Word Count: 2522

Warnings: None that I can think of. Fluff

A/N: This is a continuation of ideas from @henrynerdfan and @stephartrave. A camping date. This follows after A Hike to Remember, A Picnic to Remember, and A Beach to Remember, and is currently the last of this series, unless another idea comes in that runs in this same vein. It has not been beta-ed, so all mistakes are my own. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know.

Taglist: @rmtndew @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit @princesssterek @summersong69

The sun was warm when we arrived at the campground. Setting my backpack down, glad to be free of its weight, I looked around the site. There was a wood platform for setting up the tent so it would stay dry on one side of the clearing. Across from it was a picnic table and a firepit with a grill over it, perfect for cooking. Back down the path was a pair of outhouses. Not going to lie, that was one of the reasons for picking this campsite to rent when I looked it up online. Not having to balance while squatting over a hole seemed like something I would not want to do in the middle of the night if the need arose.

Henry scooped up my pack and moved it over to the wooden platform. He had been carrying the tent and the food. I had lugged our clothes and miscellaneous essentials we thought we might need, along with anything Kal might need. The Akita bounded around the clearing, barking at squirrels, letting them know he was moving in for the weekend.

“We made good time.” Henry smiled at me as he passed by on his way to set up the tent. I grinned, throwing a stick for Kal. I had offered to help build the tent, but Henry insisted he could handle it alone. Probably for the best, anyway, as tents and I didn’t seem to get along well.

Kal and I decided to explore the nearby forest, enjoying the fall weather. The leaves had changed once again, and the sun warmed the scenery, turning the whole area into a fiery display of colours. Kal pranced beside me, proudly carrying a stick in his mouth as though he had conquered it. I scratched his head as we walked, excitement blooming in me about this weekend. In honour of us being whatever we were for a year, Henry had flown back to Washington for a camping weekend.

Since our picnic date, we had kept in touch as best we could. His filming schedule kept him busy, and my job was becoming ever more demanding. We made sure to text as often as we could, call each other when the times aligned across time zones. Thankfully, we lived in a time where video calls were a thing. He had even flown me out to set one week for a beach getaway when filming went on a short break. We weren’t boyfriend/girlfriend, no labels, but we somehow knew that this was exclusive without ever blatantly saying it.

By the time Kal and I returned to the campsite the tent was up, and the sleeping bags were unrolled inside. Henry had gotten a fire roaring already. Even though the sun was still shining, it would soon set, and the bite of Autumn would follow quickly behind it. Even now the breeze that soughed between the trees brought with it a chill. The fire was a welcome balm to that chill.

When I stepped up beside Henry as he watched the flames lick higher, I slid my hand into his large warm one. He entwined our fingers, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. I leaned into his muscled arm, trying to absorb as much of his heat as I could.

“Cold?” Henry chuckled, dropping my hand to wrap his arm around my shoulders. He tugged me into the side of his body, tucking me close under his arm. He pressed a kiss to the side of my head, lingering there, resting his head on mine. “I missed you. I missed this.”

“I missed you too.” I whispered, wrapping my arm around his back as I snuggled closer. I sighed; it felt so right to be here, in nature, like this. Nature was sort of our thing, so it was kind of perfect we were celebrating with a camping trip. Kal bumped my free hand with his big head, causing laughter to burst from both of us. “Of course, I missed you too.”

Henry and I moved about the campsite in perfect harmony, getting things ready for dinner. I had prepared a few things ahead of the trip so we would need to bring less things with us, and still be able to have nutritious meals. That didn’t mean I didn’t also bring the ingredients for smores. Every camping trip need smores.

The tinfoil packets filled with chopped veggies grilled nicely on the open fire, and the steaks were done to perfection. I don’t know if I could have pulled it off if I didn’t have Henry with me. I know it’s a stereotype that men are good at grilling, but it must be for a reason. Kal munched happily on the dog food I had made for him while we ate, his tail wagging the whole time.

“Watch out! It’s going to burn!” Henry laughed later as he watched my marshmallow catch on fire. He reached over to pull it out of the flames, blowing the fire out while still laughing. I hit his shoulder lightly for making fun of me, but I was laughing too. “You can’t put it in the flames. You have to put it down by the smoldering coals. Have you never done this before?”

“I did it lots as a kid, but it’s been a while.” I admitted, tossing my burnt marshmallow into the fire, before stabbing fresh one on. Henry shifted closer to me, guiding my skewer down to the edge of the fire where there were a few coals glowing with a warm orange heat.

“The trick is to keep rotating it like it’s on a rotisserie, not letting any side get more heat than the others.” Henry slowly spun my skewer in my hand, showing me his technique. I was distracted by his closeness, so it was a good thing he had a hold of the stick, otherwise this marshmallow was going to end up covered in ash. Risking it anyway, I kissed his cheek. A smile broke out on his face, but he kept his attention on the fire. “If you keep doing that, you definitely will burn your marshmallow.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” I admitted, pretending to take his smore making seriously. I had to suck my lips into my mouth to stop myself from laughing. He kept spinning the skewer, concentrating on it as the gooey confection on the end turned gold.

“Graham cracker and chocolate.” Henry instructed, getting ready to pull it from the heat. I held out the pieces I had prepared for the doomed marshmallow. He placed the warmed pillow of sugar on the piece of chocolate, and when I pressed the second graham cracker on top, he slid the skewer out. “And that is how you make the perfect smore.”

“Yum! Thank you.” I stared at the perfect little dessert sandwich, watching the marshmallow ooze out the sides. When I looked up to thank him again, Henry surprised me by pressing his lips to mine softly. It wasn’t as demanding as some of our kisses could be, or as chaste. It walked the line between the two, flirting with both sides equally.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” Henry grinned when he pulled away, tossing my words back at me. I slowly opened my eyes. I would never complain about surprise kisses from this man. “You had better eat that before it gets cold. Cold smores are not as enjoyable.”

I mentally snapped out of the daze his kiss had put me and concentrated on eating my smore before the thing melted anymore. As it was chocolate was running down my thumb, threatening to drip off my hand and on to my jeans. I licked it up before that could happen, catching Henry watching me as I did. A blush crept up my neck, heating my cheeks when I realized what my action must have seemed like. Henry quickly looked away when he saw that I caught him, a blush painting his cheeks as well.

Night fell fast out here, and between the fresh air and the hike to get out to the camp, I was exhausted early on. My full stomach probably didn’t help as I fought off a food coma. Henry noticed me trying to stifle my yawns, covering them up behind my hand as I looked away from him. Chuckling, he patted my leg. We had already cleaned up the food and hid it in the cache to keep bears and other critters away from it. We had just been enjoying the fire and the clear night.

“Time for bed, love.” Henry encouraged as he stood up. He offered me his hand, which I gladly took. My body felt limp and sated after sitting by the fire with good food warming me from the inside, and the guy I was camping with warming me from the outside. He wrapped his arm around my body, his hand resting on my opposite hip as he guided me to the tent using a flashlight to see with. “Go in and get changed. I will wait.”

Kal had already put himself to bed in the tent, but he raised his head in greeting when I entered. He had taken over Henry’s sleeping bag, claiming it as his own. I laughed as I shone my flashlight at my pack so I could find my pjs. I pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Henry so he wouldn’t have to go digging through the pack as well. I quickly changed in a pair of flannel pajama pants, tugging on warm wool socks. My heart sang as I pulled on one of his old shirts that he had left last time he visited, just for me. It didn’t smell like him anymore, but he promised he had brought some more to swap out this one with.

“Your turn.” I smiled, unzipping the tent flap to step out. Henry ducked inside, and faster than I had been, changed.

Kal was unmoveable, even though Henry tried to pull his sleeping bag out from under the Akita. The dog just grunted and seemed to make himself weigh more. I chuckled, flipping open my sleeping bag in invitation. I certainly wasn’t going to complain about sleeping beside Henry. If nothing else, he radiated heat and could be my personal furnace.

“Are you sure?” Henry double checked before climbing in to join me. Up until now, we had never slept together. Even during our beach getaway, we had two beds in the room. It had been really hard to resist the temptation to crawl into his bed that night, but I didn’t want to cross a boundary he might not be ready for. I found out later, he had been thinking the same thing.

“I’m sure.” I promised, letting as much of the promise show in my eyes as it did in my words. Henry carefully slid into the cramped space of my sleeping bag. I found it adorable that he seemed to try to make his massive body smaller, to take up as little room as possible.

“Maybe if you…” Henry trailed off as we tried to figure out how we were both going to fit in the sleeping bag. Our legs were tangled together already, and his arm was under my head. I nuzzled into his chest, breathing in his scent deeply, trying to cover it up by pretending I was just searching for a comfortable position.

Suddenly I was being rolled up, so I was laying basically on top of Henry. He smiled as he flattened himself underneath me, his shoulders spanning the width of the sleeping bag. Both his arms were around me, shifting me so I was more on top of him. I wanted to fight him, but there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room.

“Just give in.” Henry whispered in my ear before I pulled my head away to search his face. The smile gracing his face reached his eyes, letting me know he was fully onboard with this position. “Unless its too uncomfortable for you.”

“No… No, it’s not that.” I tried to relax. This was the closest we had gotten other than when we were hugging in the ocean. His hand smoothed down my back, sending tingles up my spine. Being this close to him was shorting out my brain and I couldn’t think straight. His finger under my chin had me looking back at him, his eyes searching mine for what might be wrong. “I just… don’t want to squish you.”

“Trust me, you won’t.” Henry laughed. I had to laugh at my reason too. This man was the strongest he had ever been and could easily bench me plus some. He cupped my cheek after tucking my hair away from my face. “How about this? If during the night either of us gets uncomfortable, I will sleep with Kal. Just say the word, and I’ll move.”

“Okay.” I said quietly, scared he would move now. I really was enjoying being this close to him. Though I am positive sleeping beside Kal wouldn’t be a new thing for him, I would feel bad kicking him out of the warm sleeping bag. Henry’s eyes searched mine again, making sure I was 100% okay with this.

“Oh. And to warn you, Kal snores.” Henry chuckled, wrapping his arms around me again, pulling my weight fully onto him. I hadn’t even noticed I was trying to hold myself off him until he did that.

“I remember.” I laughed, reaching over to give the Akita a pat good night, before tucking myself into Henry’s body. I was about to tuck my face into his neck, probably about to shock him with my cold nose, but I wanted one more thing.

I lifted my head back up, looking down into Henry’s blue eyes, getting momentarily lost. He looked up at me, his eyebrows raised in question. I smiled, and slowly lowered my face to his, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. I savoured the way our lips moved against each other, the way his tongue gently explored my mouth, getting reacquainted. The kiss wasn’t rushed, but it still made my toes curl and my skin tingle with goosebumps. The passion was slow burning, drawn out in long languid reverence.

As far as good night kisses went, this one was my favourite. Probably because it was our first true good night kiss. It wasn’t the chaste one we had offered each other at the beach hotel. This one was a kiss people more familiar with each other shared. I couldn’t help the grin on my face when we pulled away from each other. It was still on my face when I tucked my face into his neck, biting my slightly swollen lip, going over what just happened in my mind.

“Good night, sweetheart.” Henry whispered, smoothing my hair down before kissing the top of my head. I pressed a kiss to his neck, whispering the words back to him, silently praying Kal would hog his sleeping bag tomorrow night and we would have to do this again.

#henry cavill x female reader #Henry Cavill Fanfic #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #Henry Cavill x Reader

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bluey1995 · 3 years ago

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Fanfiction Rant Because I Can

So it has come to my attention that most fanfiction writers believe that their fanfiction actually is better than most other fiction written/made by real authors with original ideas? Uhh... How? All fanfiction writers do is use the same tropes, writer said characters out of character most of the time, and then if possible, they like to end said fanfiction with the most cornest shit I've ever read. Something on the lines of "they lived happily ever after" OR "then so and so character lived in peace and harmony." You get the idea. Anyways, my little rant here is how many ff fans or even writers wanna say that myself or others that critique ff take it "too seriously" when they themselves took the time to make said media and have the gull to gloat about it like it's so much better than other popular media which took even longer to make. Now I probably am gonna get some people saying: "BUT BLUE, FF IS FOR FUN!!! DON'T BE SO SERIOUS ABOUT IT!!! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT!!!" Yadda, yadda, yadda. Look, I don't even mind if ya writer ff but for the love of God, STOP. SAYING. YOU. DID. A. BETTER. JOB. THAN. THE. CANNON. That shit annoys me. And guess what? I do happen to read ff. Of course I'm not telling anyone to stop making it, reading it, or even enjoying it. All I'm saying is that FF can be critiqued just as you guys make it on the daily. Also, yeah, I do hate fix it fics because they just wanna make fannon into cannon and THAT makes me angry. How about write your own story and characters then get back to me or anyone else and tell them how hard it is to make a story? Yeah, now stop trying to devalue the work of others and be happy that the media you're making fanfics on actual exists because without them, you wouldn't have the said fanfiction y'all so desperately crave. Sheesh. Also, don't tell me that I can't be serious on this because I can. You can block me or whatever if you don't wanna see my posts. Just don't come crying toe about how fanfiction is better than actual books or other media that someone took the time to make. It's not easy believe me.

Blue out! Have a good one folks! ✌️💙

#rant #personal #anti fanfiction ramble #rambles #criticism

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maximoff-pan · 5 years ago

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57 with Peter Maximoff? 'cause your writing about him makes me soft 🥺

Prompt:

57. Breaking The Kiss To Say Something, Staying So Close That You’re Murmuring Into Each Other’s Mouths

Character: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Word Count: 1.4 k of (hopefully) tooth rotting fluff....like maybe you’ll need a dentist after reading???

A/n: Anon, you’re way too sweet! And honestly, writing about him makes me soft, so I really hope you enjoy! (I know I did writing this)....Anyway, I also want to note that this (the beginning), does not perfectly (or even close to perfectly) follow the plot or script of days of future past. I just somewhat mimicked it....It doesn’t have a ton to do with the movie, but just in case anyone is confused, that is what it’s based on. I also had to check the timelines, so I think they’re right. It says that Peter is born in 1955 and DOFP takes place in 1973, so that’d make him approximately 18. I’m sorry if that’s wrong, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

You distinctly remember the first time you met Peter Maximoff. And thinking back on it now, you’re not sure there’s a world in which it’s possible that you could ever forget it. You’d both been so young, barely 18, and yet, as conflicted as you’d felt when you’d first laid your eyes on him, there was an instant connection between you. It was unbelievably undeniable...something not even Charles could explain when he’d met the pair of you.

You’d both met Charles, Hank, and Logan on the same day. You’d only known the three mysterious men for a few more hours than Peter had, them picking you up from your home because your mutation was integral in breaking Erik out of the Pentagon. (Personally, at the time, you didn’t see why your mutation of invisibility would be so helpful....but Charles more than insisted. So you just said, ‘sure, what the hell. I’ve got nothing to lose,’ and went along with them...for the adventure of course). Unfortunately (or fortunately, you’re not quite sure), your next stop was to convince some teenage speedster to join you....hence, you meeting Peter.

“You’re not cops.” Was the first thing you heard out of his mouth.

His voice had taken you back. He’d managed to sound both arrogant and insecure, all in one utterly short sentence. How on earth could anyone manage that? On a first judgment, this boy gave you mixed feelings. Was he an ass? Or was he just scared...nervous, or maybe both?

Logan simply scoffed, his arms folded across his chest. “And what makes you say that, kid?”

“Rental car.” Peter tutted, a glimmer shining brightly in his eyes. “And you really expect me to believe some rando teenage girl is working as an officer for whatever joke of a police force you claim to be a part of? I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me?” You spat at him.

The grin that plastered itself on his face was vomitous. “You’re excused princess.”

That nickname made your blood absolutely boil, and your skin crawled with frustration. You turned to Logan bitterly. “And we need this klepto ass clown why?”

“Unfortunately, his mutation is exactly what we need.” Hank broke in, speaking for Logan.

Honestly, if Logan could’ve made the choice that day, he would’ve left Peter behind. He thought you and your mutation were enough, that unlike Charles and Hank, Peter was not a necessity, he was just a fucking nuisance. He much preferred you....but he was stuck with both of you.

If he had been able to make that decision, at the time, you would have agreed with Logan wholeheartedly. Peter annoyed you to no end, and from the moment you met him, he continuously tried to rile you up. But today? Today you’re very much glad Logan had not been granted permission to make that decision. If he had, then you’d never have met Peter. You’d never have met the love of your life, your husband, and the father of your children.

You never would have been truly happy. But thank god Logan hadn’t made that decision....thank god....

Now? Now you’re happily married. You’ve put your X-Men days behind you, trading them in for teacher’s positions at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Soon, you’ll even be teaching your own children, twins James and Eleanor, and baby Wyatt (in that order, oldest to youngest)...but for now, they’re still too young to be learning at Xavier’s. For now, you’re spending your last few months on maternity leave, before you head back to teaching.

Home life has been crazy, two toddlers and a new baby will do that to you. And Peter has been your absolute rock. (You’ve also been his, which he tells you everyday, but you never seem to believe it)...

You live right off campus, so Peter’s commute to work is practically nonexistent, which means he’s able to be at home with you fairly shortly after his work day ends. (It’s literally a lifesaver), and Peter loves being at home with your kids. There’s honestly nowhere he’d rather be....except maybe cuddled in bed next to you, the house completely quiet from children screaming or babies crying.

“The twins go to bed okay?” You ask your husband as he tiredly walks into your shared bedroom.

“Define okay.” He jokes. You tilt your head, shooting him a look of uncertainty. “In all seriousness,” he starts, “probably the best bed time this week.”

Peter’s beaming with the pride that he could get his children to actually behave and go to sleep at a godly hour, and it warms your heart. You can see it in his being, just how much love he has for them.

“I’m glad.” You smile. “Wyatt’s down. Out like a light.” You gesture to the baby sleeping in the crib next to your bed.

Peter’s eyebrows raise, a mischievous grin on his face. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?” He asks and your eyes widen.

“That’s definitely not what I thought you were going to say.” You laugh softly. “I was expecting something more along the lines of... ‘let’s have sex.’ Instead, you ask your wife, let me remind you in case you forgot, your wife, if you can have a simple kiss? Ladies and gentlemen, I married the most wholesome man on the planet!”

He responds with a laugh of his own, your antics more than amusing him. “So you’re saying, we could’ve had...” he pauses for a moment, feigning innocence and whispering, “sex?”

“We could’ve.” You shrug. “But you passed up on it.”

Peter throws you a goofy grin, eyeing you up and down. “I’m still taking that kiss though.”

“No one’s stopping you.”

“Mhm.” He finally leans in, placing his lips softly on yours. At first the kiss is gentle, but as the seconds pass, the intensity grows. You don’t know when exactly that it happens, but suddenly you find yourself on Peter’s lap, basically straddling him. Your mouths move in harmony, harder and faster than a few moments prior.

He lets out a groan of approval as you rake your hands through his long (ish) silver hair. Taking this as your opportunity, you deepen the kiss, propping yourself off of Peter’s lap, and pushing him further into your bed.

His hand grips your arm, securing his other arm around your waist and flipping the two of you over, him now on top. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. It’s like the perfect storm of anticipation. You both want to take things further, desperately, but the universe decides it has other plans for you (not allowing you a moment free from parenting), when your son begins to cry.

“Peter.” You murmur into his mouth. And as much as you don’t want to stop whatever this is, you also don’t want the wailing baby to wake your other children.

He pulls back reluctantly, letting out of sigh of frustration, as he watches you crawl across the bed and scoop Wyatt out of his crib. The crying stops almost instantaneously, and you both feel some sort of relief flood through you. If there was any plus side to come from this, at least Eleanor and James hadn’t woken up.

“It’s alright baby boy.” You coo as Peter watches you lovingly. “Mama’s got you.”

“Daddy’s here too.” Peter nearly sings at your baby son. “And he loves you very much.”

“Mommy loves you more.” You tease, speaking in the same sing song voice your husband had just used.

Peter scoffs. “I don’t think so.” He sings back. “Mommy and Daddy love you equally.”

“Oh I’m sure they do.” The sarcasm in your tone is evident, and at that, he reaches over to gently tickle your sides, careful not to disrupt your position with Wyatt.

You release a gentle string of giggles, feeling Peter’s fingers halt their actions. “I surrender! I surrender.”

“You see that Wyatt?” Your husband asks your son. “Your Mommy has me absolutely whipped. I couldn’t be a happier man.”

“And I a happier woman.” You pause, leaning down to whisper in Wyatt’s ear, just loud enough for Peter to hear. “Besides, your Daddy’s been whipped by me since the second he first saw me.”

Peter simply shrugs, grinning down at his little family. “You’re not wrong.” Placing a kiss on your forehead, he hums lightly. “Your Mommy’s definitely not wrong.”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff imagines #peter maximoff x you #xmen x reader #xmen imagine #xmen imagines

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markleespitsbars · 4 years ago

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nct dream reaction to hearing their s/o sing for the first time and shes really good?^^^

Yes absolutely!! I’m so sorry it took so long to get this out but I hope you enjoy it🥰 I also got two similar asks for this so I’m gonna combine them in this reaction!!

NCT Dream reaction to hearing your incredible voice:

이마크💗

Mark stuck a hand out, pinching the knob on his car’s front panel with his thumb and index finger and turning it to the right, blasting the music through the speakers. You rolled down the passenger window, sticking an arm out and letting the wind whip through your hair as he drove you down the road, nothing but little streetlights here and there to light the way.

He was playing your favorite song, and you couldn’t help but sing loudly at the sound of it, assuming the loud volume would tune out your voice. Mark was singing along, too, the both of you smiling and laughing happily.

Mark quieted down to focus on the road as he neared a turn, and as he braked to go into it, he heard a voice underneath the recorded song, hitting every note perfectly. He flicked his eyes over to you for a moment, feeling his stomach do flips as he watched you sing your heart out.

He bit his lip, reaching out and turning the volume down just enough so that it was quieter than your voice, and turned back to the road. You soon realized the music wasn’t as loud as it had been, and you quickly shut yourself up, worried he wouldn’t like how you sounded; he did have an incredible voice, after all.

“Why’d you stop?” Mark asked, turning his head to you for a moment with a pout on his face. “I was enjoying that.”

“No,” you whine, putting your face in your hands and laughing quietly. He reached over, grabbing one of your hands from your face and pulling it to intertwine your fingers.

“Keep going,” he said, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “You sound great.”

황런쥔💛

Renjun barged into his room, brow furrowed as he paced over to his desk and set whatever was in his hands down on it. “What’s up?” you greeted from his bed, getting his attention. “Something bothering you?”

He shook his head, picking the paper up again. “It’s nothing. We just got the sheet music for our new song, and the harmonies are really tight. I’m just trying to get everything down before we record next week.”

“I can help you rehearse,” you suggested, and Renjun cocked his head to the side.

“You can certainly try,” he said, “but this is one of the most technically difficult pieces we’ve ever gotten. It’s tough, even for me.” You shrugged, sticking a hand out, and he set the sheet music in your hands. You looked over it, widening your eyes at what you saw.

“Wow, this is tough,” you agreed, staring at Renjun’s highlighted notes. “They usually put the dissonant note in the instrumental for those sus chords, but they have you on that perfect fourth this time.” His jaw fell open, mouth searching for words as you listed off observation after observation about the technicalities of the song. “What? You thought I couldn’t read music?”

Renjun chuckled, hopping onto his bed beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I should’ve known better,” he laughed, going back to the sheet music and letting you help him nail his pitch. He was pleasantly surprised at how talented you were, and he ended up perfecting the note by the end of the night.

이제노🧡

Jeno sighed, resting his head across your lap as he shut his eyes, tired after a long day of rehearsal and just trying to relax. Your fingers raked through his hair, soothing him into a calm state of sleepiness. “Y/n,” he murmured, peeking his eyes open and looking at you. “Can you sing to me?”

Your eyes widened. “You want me to sing to you?”

He nodded. “Mhm. A lullaby.” You tried to protest, telling him that you were sure you weren’t that good and that your voice would only hurt his ears, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Anyone can sing a lullaby, Y/n,” he said. “You don’t have to be good at it.”

With no other argument, you finally agreed, resting back on your hands and smiling down at your boyfriend. And then you opened your mouth, letting your voice ring out in a soft little melody that had the corners of Jeno’s lips turning upward.

“You sound beautiful,” he whispered, shutting his eyes again and curling into your lap. “You can sing me to sleep whenever you want.” Your breath caught in your throat at the praise, and you continued to sing to him until he was sleeping soundly, your fingers still moving through his hair every now and again.

이동혁💚

Haechan laid down on the sofa, listening to the Dreamies’ latest song play over his speaker and ad-libbing over the melody. You sat at the other end of the couch, letting his feet rest across your thighs as you played on your phone.

The song ended, but your boyfriend continued to sing his runs over and over, growing more and more off-pitch as he went. You snickered, and he sent you a wide-eyed stare. “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head. “You’re in the wrong key,” you told him with a giggle. You opened your mouth, singing his run in the correct key and making him freeze on the spot.

“Since when do you have perfect pitch?” Haechan asked, torn between being horrified that you had called him out and impressed at the skills you claimed to have.

You smirked. “I always have,” you said. “I’ve just been quiet about it since I’m too nervous to show off in front of actual musicians.”

Haechan smiled, scooching closer to you and getting closer to your face. “So you admit I’m a talented musician?”

You smiled back, taking his cheek in your hand and leaning in to kiss him. “I never said you weren’t talented, Hyuck. But maybe we can do a duet sometime so you can prove that you’re still better than me.”

나재민💙

Jaemin slotted his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder as you stirred the cake batter you were mixing. He swayed the two of you back and forth to the rhythm of the music in the background, squeezing you tighter every time you giggled. You held up the whisk, letting him lick the batter off of it from over your shoulder until it was clean. “Let’s get this in the oven, yeah?” you asked, unraveling his arms from around you and starting to pour the mix into the pan.

Jaemin took the opportunity to dance around the kitchen, jamming to the song that was playing as you slipped your mitts on and opened the oven, sliding the cake inside. “Take it away, Y/n!” he exclaimed as the next chorus of the song neared, and you laughed as you shut the oven door, belting out the lyrics as best you could.

He gawked at you, loving the way your voice sounded when you sang without a care in the world, and he ran up to you, grabbing you and spinning you around as you squealed in delight. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard you sing before,” he singsonged, taking your face in his hands and pressing kisses to every bit of open skin he could reach. “You sound amazing.”

“You’re just being nice,” you told him, hesitant to accept the compliment event though your cheeks had darkened a few shades.

“I am,” he said, “but I wouldn’t lie to you. You do have an amazing voice, Y/n.” And, satisfied, you started singing again, much to Jaemin’s enjoyment.

종천러❤️

Chenle flipped his microphone in his hand before holding it out to you. “Your turn, Y/n,” he said, and you took the mic hesitantly. He had brought you to one of his favorite karaoke places, renting out a room just for the two of you. You hadn’t quite expected you’d be singing tonight, but you supposed it was unfair to make him sing by himself for the entire night.

You stood, selecting your favorite song from the menu and feeling your heart race when the music started. You hadn’t yet sung in front of Chenle, and he had one of the most beautiful voices you’d ever heard; you definitely felt inferior compared to him. But he hadn’t been raking the karaoke very seriously, which made you feel a little less nervous, like you could get a note wrong and not worry about it.

Chenle looked on in glee when you opened your mouth to sing, but as soon as he heard your voice, any words he wanted to say quickly left his throat, his jaw falling slack as he paid attention only to the way you sounded.

You grew more nervous as the song went on, especially because Chenle was oddly silent instead of hyping you up like he would normally do, but the wide smile on his face when the song ended eased your worries. “Y/n, that was awesome!” he exclaimed, jumping up and giving you a big hug. You really did have nothing to worry about, especially as he quickly pulled up a duet on the menu for the both of you to sing, excited to hear how your voices blended together.

박지성💜

Jisung laid in his bed scrolling through his phone as you showered, waiting for you to come out so he could take you in his arms and fell asleep. But through the wall, he could hear a voice loudly singing along to some arbitrary pop songs, and he couldn’t help but smile knowing it was you.

He hadn’t heard you before, seeing as you were too shy to sing in front of him, but he felt so lucky to be able to hear you. Still, it felt rude bringing it up, since you had declined singing for him before. He didn’t want to embarrass you.

Some time later, you emerged from the bathroom, all snuggled into your pajamas as you walked towards the bed and snuggled in beside Jisung. He sank into your warmth, shutting his eyes and smiling. “You’re affectionate tonight,” you whispered, hugging him around his waist.

The words were out before he could think them through. “You have a really pretty voice, Y/n.” Your face flushed at Jisung’s words, not expecting him to have heard you in the shower.

“What?”

He panicked as soon as he realized what he’d said. “I-I mean... I just... heard you. You sound really pretty.” You were going to retort, but Jisung pulled you closer to hush you. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n. Just get some sleep. You can sing some more tomorrow.”

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thepromisedbride · 4 years ago

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HELLO JESS. BBC GHOSTS ARTHURIAN AU GO (by which I mean the arthurian characters in the premise of BBC ghosts, not the other way around)

REY oh my god i love you for this here we go

So in Ghosts the alive characters are a married couple, right?? Wrong!! Well, not wrong, because yes that’s exactly what Mike and Alison are. But wrong for this version because though I seriously considered having one of the couples as the main characters I then thought “hey what’s more fun than a family!!” and luckily for us (me) we have a ready made family in the form of (drumroll please) The Orkneys!!

The rest is under a read more because I got what some might call “carried away” and others might call “obsessed”

What happens is this: as the Orkney brothers grow up, they rather naturally become separated, until at last Gareth is the last one, at seventeen, living with their mother. Their father (or at least, their supposed father: they all know that Mordred looked too dissimilar to Lot to really be his son, though they never said it) died a while ago, and Morgause could not find it in her to really focus on her children over her job.

The five of them seem to unspokenly care about each other, but in a way where it was clear that they were all waiting to be contacted first.

Nonetheless, when Morgause does die, with Gareth having just turned eighteen and seriously wondering why he had taken a gap year from university, they all show up, and find that they had jointly been bequeathed the old family house in the country.

Gawain has been recently promoted and is now working from home. This meant more time than he usually spent inside his flat, and he had been getting rather claustrophobic. So, after an admittedly short heart to heart with Gareth, who was looking quite nervously towards a future without parents and with no idea what to do, he packs up his brothers in a typically Gawain-like fashion and moves them all out to the manor.

Mordred has been able to see ghosts since an incident in his youth involving a large body of water, an ill-timed trip and a sudden storm. He hasn’t been in water since, but the near-death experience left his with the ability to see those spirits left when their bodies had departed. This is especially unfortunate for him, because half the time he doesn’t particularly want to be able to see living people, let alone ghosts who do not leave when he throws things at them. But he puts up with it enough: there is, beyond all logic, a particular cup he took from Morgause’s house when he left which somehow has three ghosts attached to it, and they happily provide a deterrent for any others.

(It does create a somewhat awkward car journey: he’s being driven by Agravaine, and between the boxes in the back and the only two seats in the front, there’s not much room even for a ghost. Aggs keeps looking at him weirdly when he fidgets, but it’s not his fault that the only free place left is his lap or that Galahad decided that he simply had to see the journey to the house rather than simply confining himself to the cup like Bors and Percival did.)

Anyway, this means that he arrives at the house and immediately sees a crowd of variously costumed figures and tries turning around and leaving. Unfortunately Agravaine anticipates some “young adult hormones” and quickly steers him straight inside.

It takes him a while to finally be alone with the ghosts, who seem to quickly realise he can see them. There are eleven of them in total, though a couple seem to spend most of their time in the little gatekeeper house rather than the main building. He immediately makes a note to avoid Dinadan, who looks at Mordred once and immediately makes fun of his choice in band t-shirts (and like, he’s a ghost, what does he know about bands, it’s like trying to talk to Gaheris—) and Lamorak is instantly relegated to Mordred’s extensive “least liked people” list, which is different to his “disliked people” list. Kay seems kind of mean, which is funny, and Bedivere is responsible enough to try and control the others, but they are clearly “not dating” which honestly Mordred has no time for.

He gets on best with Clarissant, probably, as she’s smart and not too grating but still sweet enough that she likes sitting with him when he wants to be quiet but doesn’t want to be alone. Owain, likewise, has shown him several spaces in the garden for birdwatching or other wildlife (which Mordred doesn’t particularly have used for, but he does appreciate the effort).

Owain is “not dating” a different ghost, Laudine, but in a different way than Kay and Bedivere are “not dating”, in a way that doesn’t get on Mordred’s nerves and lets him acknowledge that Laudine is kind of funny. Elaine doesn’t really talk to him: there’s a river and lake by the house and she seems to prefer it there, or else by the old tower. But she has great stories, and never minds when he really needs a vent, usually about his brothers.

It’s Palamedes and Brangaine who live (in the loosest sense of the word) in the gatekeeper’s cottage. This is very useful, because it means he can set up a little bedroom inside, though it’s mostly for storage now, and sleep there when he wants to pretend he has his own space. He has a strange nervousness that they might see him as a sort of pet, but he’s pretty sure that’s not the case.

Relatively sure.

Not that it matters. They have a clearly delicate history together, one Mordred is not about to ask after for fear that one or both will start crying, but they manage in a sort of sweet domesticity. He’s left the goblet in there for now, because Palamedes seems to enjoy Galahad, Bors and Percival’s company.

And it’s—

Nice.

And then, of course, there is Lancelot. He seems far too well meaning for Mordred to carry on any kind of maliciousness for long, except that for some godforsaken reason he has also decided that Gawain is an ideal muse. He spends way too much time following Gawain around, thinking up sappy poetry about Gawain, or else sighing blissfully out of a window (presumably over Gawain). Mordred thinks that if Lancelot were to ever be able to actually talk to Gawain (physically, he means. Or figuratively? Because even if Lancelot wasn’t a ghost he does not seem to have any cognitive abilities around Gawain anyway) then this image would be shattered. Gawain looks pretty, but so does this waterfall Mordred once read about that falls down into nothingness and despair, or the river stretch that looks like a lovely refreshing swim but actually is an fierce riptide with a 100% mortality rate. Something like that. But the point is that it’s difficult enough with Gawain constantly around without having his admirer hanging round all the time too. Gawain is insufferable already without Gaheris and Gaheris getting to add to their board of “Is Gawain Secretly (Or Not-So-Secretly) a Changeling” with ‘every time he puts something down it always seems to move just within reach when he goes to pick it up’

(If you’re wondering why there isn’t an Arthur, that is a subplot that I just suddenly decided on just now. I was going to have Arthur as a Captain-like ghost but then I was thinking and long story short there’s a tangent here—

It was Arthur’s house. He’s still Mordred’s dad, though here I guess he isn’t their uncle as well, and he left Morgause the house in his will. He heard she was pregnant, and there was a little but if him which knew he could never acknowledge his child but he still wanted to provide in some way. Arthur doesn’t have to be a bad parent.

Incidentally this also solves why the brothers didn’t really know about the house before rather than “Morgause wasn’t a big fan of the country”.)

(OH MY GOD also so Guin isn’t a ghost either bc I wanted her alive. So now she’s an important plot point. She moved into the outskirts of the nearby village because she liked the area but didn’t want to contest for a massive empty house. Anyway she’s smart and despite the problems her and her late husband went through, she does respect him for this. So eventually the Orkneys will have to go for a discovery on the house’s secrets aka there are ghosts and so they will find Guin and discover the Truth. It’s all coming together now lads)

They invite their neighbours over for dinner one night: the house needs some pretty desperate renovating, but it’s now moderately liveable at least and, according to Gawain, this requires a party.

So invite them over he does. The ones to the left, a couple named Tristan and Isolde, though Gaheris swears that when they were introduced in the village Isolde looked completely different, and the ones to the right, Morgan and Vivian. They pass a very pleasant evening, despite the fact that a fox manages to get on the roof.

No one is sure how.

Gaheris and Agravaine are charged with rescuing it, which is by far the stupidest decision Gawain has ever made. However, despite them all living together, the brothers are really not in a brilliant harmony yet, and so Gawain sends those two off whilst he entertains their guests.

The two of them are staring out the window at the fox for a while before Gaheris dares Agravaine to climb up. He doesn’t want to, but Gaheris is his little brother, and if he passes over a dare from him he’ll never hear the end of it. So he climbs out.

It’s a dry night. But it was not a dry day. And the leaves packed on all the footholds are wet and slippery, and Agravaine—

Falls—

And hits the ground, several stories below.

They’re all terrified, of course, regretting every moment they spent apart or arguing. Agravaine is declared legally dead for fourteen minutes, and it is the worst fourteen minutes of any of their lives. But finally— finally— the doctors emerge to tell them that their brother is resting, but is expected to make a full recovery.

Which he does! There are several more doctor’s appointments and physiotherapists scheduled, but eventually he can return to house. (Unsurprisingly, the arguing starts again quickly.)

There is, however, one major difference.

Agravaine can now also see the ghosts.

Mordred, having been able to see them all his life, had not considered this possibility, and thus does not prepare.

Agravaine discovers these new abilities when he walks into a room to find Mordred, pretending to be on a phone call, chatting away with Clarissant whilst Lamorak inexplicably floats nearby. He stares, screams, and blacks out.

When he comes to after a moment he is faced with a lengthy, surprisingly bored conversation with Mordred, and seriously considers blacking out again. Lamorak has not left the room despite his presence being an inevitable disaster, and Agravaine perhaps unsurprisingly decides that He is to be the newest mortal enemy in Agravaine’s list.

(Lamorak is silently gratified that he is on lists for both alive people who can see him, and chooses to ignore the reasoning behind the lists.)

Mordred has been dealing with ghosts for most of his life.

Agravaine has Not.

This means that, pretty quickly, Gawain, Gaheris and Gareth realise something is even more wrong with those two than normal.

And of course they have to come clean.

Gaheris is half convinced that the two have found his conspiracy journal and that this is an elaborate ruse to trick him into confessing love for Nessie or something. Gareth is mostly concerned about the logistics and privacy, though Mordred’s narrated conversations between him and Owain seem to make him much more comfortable with the whole thing. Gawain is genuinely tempted to jump out a window to see if he can join to newly discovered exclusive club of ghost watchers, but eventually decides that it’s too much a risk to his beautiful face.

(Lancelot silently agrees, though it has not escaped his attention that it would be nice if Gawain could actually see him.)

#arthuriana #rey thank u this is the best ask ever #i got so carried away i’m so sorry #the ghosts were just a game of ‘i love these characters and you can’t stop me’#but i’m not tagging them all #just #orkney clan #gawain #agravaine #gaheris #mordred #gareth #the fox is reynard #if you were wondering it is astolet elaine not corbenic elaine #in a more extended version of this her and lancelot best friends #arthurian literature #arthurian legend #bbc ghosts

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coeurdastronaute · 5 years ago

Text

Essays in Existentialism: Footie 7

previously on Footie

By the time the the skies cleared, the world warmed and shook off the rust that accumulated during the long, wet winter. Gone were the obscenely heavy and low clouds, and in their place, puffy white things lazily drifted along while the chill in the air lessened with new sunlight streaming through fresh leaf growth on winter-blown branches.

The streets were fresh, the people alive and streaming out into them with new vigor to chase the first hints of warmth and yellow sunshine on their cheeks and faces, an entire city with their eyes tilted upwards, sighing happily and distracted from real life with moments of humanity peppered back from the dismal sorrow of the autumn months.

It was a beautiful spring. It was going to be one for the books, with flowers filling sidewalks and spilling out from cracks in sidewalk.

There wasn’t a set schedule, or at least one that kept for very long. But there was a rhythm to the day, even without a harmony. It was impossible to keep up with everything, but Clarke realized she was just going to have to live her life a week at a time.

Lexa had her own routine, made even more difficult by travel. While Clarke found herself making her way to Lexa’s place between games and training and her own school assignments and workdays.

But it worked. The timing of it all, of the season and the year and the life-- it all just seemed to completely work. And for reasons not completely explored, Clarke realized she appreciated the timing of it all because it meant that Lexa wasn’t around and she could take it slow, something her mind just didn’t think about near her.

“She looks good out there today,” Jake nodded as he reclined, coming over a cold that left him mildly irritated by almost anything.

If anyone was not built to grow old, it was Jacob Griffin, head coach and Hall-of-Famer. Surly and annoyed by the inconvenience of illness, he grunted and watched the game with the same vigor as someone who was still coaching.

“She always looks good,” Clarke smiled slightly as she continued to balance her gradebook for the semester so far.

“I mean she’s really putting work in. The team’s at the top of the board and I think they have a good enough chance of staying there to win.”

“Lexa’s so precise and focused. It’s oddly contagious.”

“I have some good news for the Olympics.”

“What’s that? You’re going to get the permission to come?”

“Better. That’s the way!” he cheered as Lexa took a shot from deep, burying it deep in the net for the first goal of the scoreless half. “Hell of a shot.”

“It’s me. I’m lucky in this jersey.”

“That must be it.” Clarke watched her father chuckle at the notion before shaking his head and leaning forward to watch the replay a little better. Gone was the deep wheat-color of his hair and now it was replaced with a little more salt. He was still fit, perhaps more gaunt than before because of the treatment. Deep beneath it all, a bit of life still existed despite all else.

“So what else was it? You’re coming to Tokyo?”

“I was invited to commentate.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” he rolled his eyes, his good mood coming around despite how he felt. “Some people still like to listen to me.”

“I can’t relate.”

“I can’t believe they’re going to let me commentate. I have to practice being impartial. How am I going to root for Lexa and the home team but not actually root for anyone?”

“Are you kidding me?” Clarke scoffed. “Any chance for you to talk about soccer nonstop, and you won’t be able to shut up let alone root for anyone.”

“That’s true,” he nodded.

“Are you going to be good to go?”

“I think so. Other than this cold, I’ve been doing well. Plus, after the clips of me and Lexa went viral-- is that the word?” he waited until his daugher nodded. “Once that happened, I got a lot of emails with different offers.”

“Mom’s okay with it?”

“She encouraged it.”

“Must be sick of you just laying around the house.”

“Or she really wants to go to Japan.”

Clarke found herself smiling, happy that her father sounded happy despite his annoyances. She was grateful to have a new appreciation for his love of the sport. They sat on the couch together, and Clarke leaned against her father’s side. He put an arm around her and started to couch coach well into the second half.

In a completely different city, Lexa sprinted across the field, her footwork weaving the ball through three defenders before she got the shot off to the top right corner. With a punch to the air, she slid on the grass and was adored by teammates and cheered by the stadium.

There was something poetic about watching someone do something that brought joy to the universe. Lexa was often the first person to diminish what she did, but she couldn’t see this part, the part that Clarke saw when she watched her father disect a play, or when the player on the field disappeared and floated, not one ounce of focus to be spared for anything else other than breathing and scoring, and even then the brainpower reserved for breathing was minimal. An entire brain worked to score, to move, to be precise and exact.

Clarke smiled as she watched, proud of her girlfriend, proud of the girl who bashfully asked her out and now, who she was finding was awfully silly and very smart and quiet. If she wasn’t mistaken, sh might have even guessed that she loved the soccer player.

“I’m going to meet Lexa’s sister,” Clarke muttered. “And her niece.”

“When are they coming?”

“Next week, for finals.”

“Well, you’ve been dating for nearly a year now. Might as well as get it over with, right?”

“I’ve never met anyone’s family.”

“It’s not that bad. You’re a good person. Anyone would be lucky to have you date their sister or daughter or aunt or granddaughter or neighbor.”

“You have to say that.”

“I do,” he agreed, squeezing her shoulder. “But I also mean it.”

“I like her a lot.”

“I figured.”

“I don’t know if we’ve self-determined things, but I thought it was a joke, when we said it was fate, but I don’t know. Sometimes I think it is.”

“Everything is a bit of fate, Clarke. At least the big things in life,” Jake explained, as if it was something he remembered he should have taught his daughter long ago. “Good or bad or indifferent. You and Lexa orbited each other, and then BAM, you can barely remember life without her.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“It’s not a bad thing, to spend your life with someone else.”

“You just really want me to date her because she’s a soccer goddess.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and clapped as Lexa got a foul, righting herself quickly and preparing to take her kick, all business, hair stuck to her forehead and neck, body drenched with sweat. It wasn’t even a game she had to win, but still demanded to play.

“They’re going to love you, darling,” the coach promised again after the shot went wide by a few inches and the camera flashed back to Lexa’s tight jaw and groan of complaint for failing to score again.

“Thanks.”

“Now tell me I’m going to do a good job as an announcer.”

“You can’t ask for reassurance like that. You’re Jake fucking Griffin.”

“You’re right.”

“But you’re going to do great. I already know it. I can’t wait to watch you and Lexa.”

“I have to start preparing, watching older footage, scouting players-- there’s a whole slew of things to make sure I know the most.”

“I’m not going to help you study. I get my fill of soccer with that one,” Clarke decided as she nudged her chin at the screen.

“Speaking of, is she going to offer me tickets to the championship or do I have to outright ask?”

“Dad, seriously?”

Jake just shrugged and took a sip of his secret beer, grinning to himself. In moments like this he found himself almost tolerant of cancer. Almost. Because he wasn’t sure he’d ever spent so much time with his daughter, and here they were, watching a game and talking about things of substance, of fears and frustrations and goals and victories. It was moments like that, in which he could almost respect fate. Almost.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

“I’m so happy you’re here. It’s not even funny,” Lexa grinned, silly and happy in the beautiful day.

There was a kid on her shoulders, hands beneath her chin, surveying the world from the perch. Her sister walked beside her, enjoying the spring sunshine and the feeling of her sister showing her around a city she’d never been to before.

“Not because you just won the championship three days ago or because you’re set to fly back with us for training camp?”

“Or because of the ice cream?” Mia added helpfully.

“Maybe a little the ice cream,” she nodded and took another lick of her cone.

It’d been a whirlwind of two weeks, and for the first time, Lexa felt as if she could finally breathe. Gone were the nerves of playing on such a large stage. Gone was the unsettled feeling that came from traveling so much. Gone was the weight of an entire city on her shoulders and it allowed her to inhale and hold it before slowly exhaling, savoring the warmth of the day and the aura of the street.

“She’s absolutely in love with this place,” Anya observed as she watched her daughter taking in all of the sights.

“You’ll have to come visit me more, how does that sound, Mia-Girl?”

“I’m not allowed to fly on a plane alone.”

“I guess your mom can come too.”

“Are we going to watch more soccer?”

The sun began to set behind the buildings, while a few people recognized the athlete, interrupting to ask her questions an utterly gush. It was something her sister and niece got used to being around.

“No more soccer. You didn’t like my game? There was all the confetti and balloons.”

“But it is so long. It takes so many minutes to play, and I get very tired and bored when you don’t have the ball or score points.”

“You make a good point.”

“I like it better when we go to see the castle and that fun science museum and stuff.”

“I liked that stuff too.”

“We miss you at home,” Anya explained as they made their way to her sister’s place, oddly proud of the beautiful place she found for herself, and more relieved with the circle of friends she made.

“I miss you sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?”

“Yeah,” Lexa grunted as she pulled the kid from her shoulders as they made their way to the elevator. “But forget that. You guys can help me pack.”

XXXXXXXXXX

Even from the hallway, Clarke could hear the noises of a family laughing from behind Lexa’s door. It was a sound she almost got used to experiencing over the past two weeks, with Lexa’s sister and niece in town. It was a much more welcomed sound that the roar of the crowd at the championship, or the people calling her name in the street when she was out with her girlfriend ever since. It was certainly better than the multiple phone calls she got from her mother fretting about her father’s deal to commentate in Tokyo.

Naturally, Clarke was worried about her father, but seeing him come back to what he loved, even just at the game the one time, was more than enough to prove to her that he needed it more than anything else.

Even after spending a whole game and a few trips around town together, Clarke was still slightly nervous about spending time with Lexa’s sister, as if every time she did, she waited for the inevitable call from Lexa that said she’d considered it and it wasn't going to work. Anya was stoic and tough to read. It was almost comical for Clarke to think of how Lexa seemed practically animated beside her poker-faced sibling.

But the call never came, and Clarke had to remind herself to not be so ridiculous. It was absolutely silly to think Anya had any reason not to like her.

And so she knocked.

“Hey,” Lexa greeted, easy and happy and with a dish towel on her shoulder as she dried her hands.

The thoughts were gone and Clarke remembered the girl who walked around town in the middle of the night just to talk to her and prolong a date.

“It smells really good.”

Clarke leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend at the door. She pushed her hand against her chest, laying it flat there while she tasted her for a moment, the wine still tart on her tongue, soft and sweet before going further into the house.

“You smell really good,” Lexa retorted with a floppy smile. “How was your day?”

“Long, but okay. The sun is out so the kids are itching to burn off the winter energy.”

“I can barely keep up with one, let alone a whole herd like you do every day. I don’t know how you do it, Griffin.”

“Well, when a mediocre salary and lackluster benefits package rolls up to your door with the promise of weekends off and a pack of thirty primary-aged kids, any sane person would jump at that kind of career opportunity.”

“When you put it like that…”

“It was a good day, just long,” Clarke chuckled. “What’d you guys get into?”

“Mia made me take her to the park, and we watched a puppet show, and played on the late.”

“Don’t forget the ice cream and the shopping,” Anya supplied, sitting at the counter with her glass of wine as Clarke followed the soccer star into the kitchen. “Lexa hates shopping, unless it’s for toys to spoil a kid with.”

Slightly guilty, she just shrugged and picked up her spoon to stir something on the stove.

“We may have done a little shopping,” she agreed. “Nothing too crazy.”

“We’ll see when the packages start to arrive at home.”

They bickered in a way that Clarke didn’t understand-- sisters. It was a concept she understood inherently, but in practice was beginning to see how inept she’d been at truly learning the full notion of having someone like that. She had close friends, friends she’d give a kidney to, friends she’d die for, friends she couldn’t live without, but there was a bit of a shared history between the sisters, a legend and lore, that transcended some of what Clarke considered to be her dearest confidants.

“Grab a glass, join us. Anya picked out a nice red on her own excursion today.”

“A girl after my own heart,” Clarke nodded approvingly as she reached for a glass to pour a much deserved drink. “If those two were left unsupervised, what did you get up to today?”

“Just a little bookkeeping,” Anya murmured over her glass as she flipped through a stack of papers. “My sister is hopeless at any of this stuff and refuses to listen to anything her agent suggests unless I read it first, like I have some kind of law degree or something--”

“You could and should,” Lexa interrupted. “She has better instincts than I do. I love Indra, but at the end of the day I’m a collection of numbers and commas and dollar signs. I trust Anya to give me her hoenst opinion.”

“Because you don’t pay me.”

“Exactly. If I paid you, then the integrity of the process would be ruined.”

“Can’t have that,” the oldest sighed and flipped and drank.

“She acts like she gets annoyed, but the moment I make a decision without asking her, and all hell breaks--”

“Don’t you start! You signed a deal to move across the entire world. That warranted a bit of a freak out--”

“That was one time and it turned out okay. It truly is a great opportunity, and you even admitted it--”

“You got lucky and I still don’t like it. Someone breaks your heart and you key their car, not impulse trade yourself--”

“It wasn’t impulse. You knew it was an option for months.”

Like a ref at a tennis match, Clarke looked at each of them lobbing facts and histories at the other. None was bitter, and in fact most seemed almost comical to them as they argue the finer points of indignation. Clarke took a large gulp of her wine.

“As I was saying,” Anya ignored the rebuttal and explained it to Clarke as her little sister went back to the stove. “We have a system in place for a reason.”

“If you could not trade yourself to another continent, I would appreciate it,” Clarke muttered, earning a grin.

“I don’t know, this offer to come back home doesn’t look so bad.”

“I just won a damn championship and unpacked the last box. I think I’m set,” Lexa shook her head and held a spoonful for her girlfriend to taste. “Plus, what do I need money for? My sister works for free.”

“I’m going to bill Indra my hours as a freelancer.”

The squabbling remained at the same level, but Clarke began to hear the love woven throughout, and as much as Lexa couldn’t admit it, sparring with her sister was her love language, and Clarke was almost certain it was the same for Anya. The only question now, was how did she survive it.

XXXXXXXXXX

“I’ll clean up in the morning,” Lexa offered as her sister began to pile plates in the kitchen.

“Oh, I know you will,” her sister grinned, her cheeks slightly tinted with the drink they’d gone through during dinner. “It was nice to see you again, Clarke.”

“Good to see you, too.”

“I’m going to check on the ki and head to bed. Tomorrow we’re going to the art museum and I need to start to taking naps to keep up with a first grader.”

“And I’m taking them to that diner we like by the station.”

“Get the potatoes. You’ll love them.”

“I’m going to gain seventy pounds visiting this damn country,” the oldest complained as she made her way down the hall with a wave over her shoulder.

The dining room seemed a little more empty all of a sudden, slightly quieter now that the third of the dinner party was gone in search of sleep. Lexa smiled and sipped her wine before looking at her girlfriend, the first time they’d been alone in what felt like months.

The eyes never changed, Clarke realized, as she adjusted slightly in her chair, pulling a leg up and balancing her cheek on her knee. Quietly, they looked at each other. Neither speaking with words.

“You look beautiful,” Lexa offered, cocking her head slightly as she played with her glass.

“You look like a champion.” Clarke earned a chuckle and slight blush. “Your sister was so proud. And Mia was screaming. I wish I had it on video. They’re very proud of you.”

“Anya loves you, by the way.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“She does. She was worried about me falling for you. I think she might be ready to beat you up if you break my heart, but she likes you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Lexa nodded, dreamy and mildly intoxicated from the food and the wine and her beautiful girlfriend and her wonderful family and the fact that she had a championship ring on the way and the fact that she was going to represent her country.

“I should head home,” Clarke sighed after looking at her phone and sliding it on the table.

With monumental effort she pushed herself up and stood while Lexa refused to move except to take another sip. She made it a few steps before a hand grabbed her wrist.

“You should stay.”

“Your family is here.”

“I miss you.”

Puppy dog eyes followed and Clarke allowed herself to be pulled down into a lap. She missed her girlfriend’s smell, she realized. She missed how she felt and looked at her, and as much as they’d seen each other, it felt almost new again, a comfortable kind of same that was just renewed.

“You’re a busy lady.”

“You’re my favorite way to spend time,” Lexa promised. “You’re just so… so… I like you.”

“They leave in a few days, and then you’ll be gone.”

“I’ll see you in Tokyo,” she promised.

“I know.”

It was a little bit of a lie. Clarke was aware of the schedule after getting her hopes up to see her dad when he was in tournaments as a kid. But she knew Lexa would be busy for most of it, and it wasn’t about her. It was about support, as much as it killed her to not scream for more. She’d never dated an actually talented soccer player before, but she knew the role.

“Stay tonight,” Lexa whispered again, kissing her shoulder.

“You have plans tomorrow morning.”

“Come with us. I need you tonight.”

“You’re just tipsy and needy right now.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, her lips half pulling up in a mischievous grin. “I need you tonight.”

Clarke moved her hands, rubbing them up her girlfriends chest, over her shoulders and to her neck. She ran her thumbs along the corner of the soccer players jaw, staring at her lips before meeting her eyes, debating what to do. There really wasn’t much to think about because they both knew what she was going to do.

“I need you to take a week off so we can celebrate all of your accomplishments.”

“There’s never enough time. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much as I’d like--”

“I knew what I was getting into, somewhat.”

“Once you realized who I was.”

“Yeah, after that.”

Clarke sighed and leaned forward, tenderly kissing her girlfriend, savoring the feeling of the quiet and the night and the world when they were allowed to exist together. She hadn’t thought about anything else on the planet except for them, together.

“You going to make it worth my while if I stay tonight?”

There wasn’t much of a word uttered, but Clarke got her answer.

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 4 years ago

Text

Winner’s Curse Ch. 25

“What are we doing here?” Jay asked, kicking at the impenetrable wall.

“You three need to talk. Your little feuds are ruining the mission for the rest of us so nows a time for heart to heart before we all die in battle.” Calix said.

They all stared at him disbelievingly.

“We could die in battle. Especially with your teamwork skills.” They still stared at him, each a stony and defiant face.

“I could do a truth spell to make you talk but I thought it should be more organic. Instead we’re all going to be stuck here until you work things out.” Calix said smoothly.

Aziz tried to use a more diplomatic approch, “Cal, you said it yourself, we have a mission to do. We can’t waste time talking and-”

“Oh, but we can. Because this is a life changing adventure, and as we know from our parents’ stories, there is almost always a heart to heart before the final battle. This is it.” Calix threw out his arms grandly as if he was presenting a magnificent buffet of chocolate fountains and not being trapped against their wills.

“You cant keep us in here,” Jordan protested, “This is my lamp. I’ll just poof us out here. So nice try but-”

“The spaghetti incident.” Calix said simply and Jordan’s stilled the hand she was about to poof them away. She glared at him but did nothing else to help get them out.

“What’s “the spaghetti incident?” Aziz asked, confused.

“It’s nothing,” Jordan waved off, refusing to look anyone in the eye.

“It’s blackmail.” Calix clarified matter of factly before giving a thoroughly annoyed Jordan an enthusiastic one-armed hug, “Don’t fight the heart to heart. Don’t fight the tropes of adventuring and ragtag misfits against evil. You must go with it.”

Jay rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall in a classic bad boy biker pose which seemed a bit ridiculous since he was posed next to an ultra girly beaded curtain.

“If we’re supposed to, hypothetically, have a heart to heart,” Jay began “Didn’t think you knew such big words,” Aziz muttered

Jay glared and continued, “Why are you still here?”

“I’m here to make sure you do it,” Calix magicked up some headphones, and increased the volume, “I won’t hear anything. Just give me the signal when you’re done.” With that instruction he hopped onto a pile of pillows, jamming out to his own playlist.

Where once it was like they hadn’t been able to stop spewing enough curses and vitriol at each other, now silence reigned. Silence and the blinding shine of the golden walls which they stared at resolutely because they didn’t want to look at each other. None of them wanted to participate in this idiotic heart to heart and spill feelings to people they currently hated.

So Calix jumped up from his pillows and tried to get the ball rolling again.

"Okay, maybe my presence is making it hard for you to be your usual motormouth selves so I’ll go and leave this to start the conversation. How about you start with Jordan and your obvious trust issues toward everyone that makes you incapable of a “Thank you." Calix suggested a bit too enthusiastically than the situation called for.

"I don't!" Jordan immediately argued but Calix clapped his hand over mouth, "I know denial is your go-to but we have to save the realm tomorrow so let's get this over with."

"But but-"

"Again,” Calix sighed, frustration finally creeping into his voice as he repeated himself again, “Every hero's journey has that tipping point where they must come together and share their deepest fears to find out the fears are irrational because of the power of love and friendship." Calix said.

"I seriously hate it when you use my lectures on story tropes against me." Jordan grumbled.

"I don’t care what you hate," Calix began to fade away, "If you don't start bonding I will transform you into mice when this is over."

"Why mice?" Jay asked

"Mices are automatically inducted into Cinderella's sewing circle. So double punishment to you for not listening to me as you always should. Ta ta!” And with a final woosh of breeze that came from nowhere, he was gone.

Aziz and Jordan resumed their previous staring contest with the wall but Jay, fed up with this situation, and figuring they might as well get this over with, glared “So what is with your trust issues? You came from Auradon, not the Isle, why are you so paranoid?”

Jordan glared at him in return, furious that he was expecting her to dignify his question with an answer he should obviously know.

But she had to admit, she was tired too. Her arms hurt from the crescent moon marks that her nails had dug in. She was feeling residue cramps from the Antiquam’s cream or maybe it was her own tension. Not to mention her teeth hurt from clenching them so tightly. She remembered once, on a family trip long ago, Jordan had been in a mood because she had missed an Orpheus concert due to her parents’ inability to care about time. Her parents had offered to take her to another concert later that night, but she pettily refused to enjoy it.

Her dad had said it hurt more to hold onto a grudge when you can be enjoying the present. And it was true, once she had stopped ruminating on her parents’ flaws and simply listened to Orpheus’ sweet voice, the burning ball of annoyance had faded away.

And she was so tired.

She had nothing left to lose.

“As if you don’t know,” Jordan began, though with a lot less malice that she usually put behind her snark. Not that it made Jay raised his guard any less. Jordan sighed and tried again, more gentle this time.

“Well you already said it yourself. Auradonians can be hypocrites. It’s all happily ever after and respect and love and harmony is everywhere but it’s not true. They can’t have my lamp so they think if they’re nice to me and pretend to care but they’re just waiting for the right moment to ask for wishes. All of them,” Jordan side-eyed Aziz who stared stonily at her instead of looking guiltily away as she wanted him to.

“And I know people think my magic is amazing, with the wishes and all that. But it’s not,” Jordan continued, on a roll of her own, trying to make Jay understand taht even though she didn’t have Jafar as a father, her life was not pastel perfect as most Auradonians, “It’s not. I can’t give wishes to myself. If I did, I’d wish for people to like me, to be nice to me not because they like me, they think I might grant them something. And when I don’t grant them a wish, those fucking lying smiles and royal manners disappear. Because I am not human. I don’t get to be treated as if I have feelings or anything. Hell, one of my exes told me if I’m not granting wishes then I’m worthless because what else do genies live for?”

“And when I do grant wishes, usually against my will, I can’t even use magic against them. I can’t hurt my masters unless they wish for that or I find a loophole somehow. But I can’t find loopholes all the time,” Her mind automatically went to that awful night, the repeat that had almost occurred with Antiquam and Jordan choked. She hastily wiped away the tears that were beginning to streak down her cheeks.

Allah, she felt embarrassed as she saw Jay’s uncomfortable expression, eyes darting as if he wasn’t sure if he should comfort her or look away from her breakdown.

But she couldn’t stop, she felt words clamber and spill out of her throat like uncontrolled word vomit.

“And-and I wish that I didn’t have wishes to give. I wish I didn’t have to become semi-phenomenally cosmic just so I can be free. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to use it. Auradon has a fucking Magic Ban because it’s unfair to you, mortals. It’s unfair to us. Genies, and faey need their magic to live or else they’re just wasting away. Why are we punished for being born “better than you.”

“But instead, instead we have this. Resentment for being forced to hide ourselves so mortals can feel better. We can help people. But it’s also the same thing that makes people fear us and send those like Circe and Morgana Le Fey to the Isle and then they become evil because they’re bitter that they’d do this to them. Auradon creates their own enemies like a self fulfilling prophecy. “It’s like a winner’s curse.” Jordan muttered.

Sometimes when her father talked about Aladdin’s story, he phrased it as a series of winner’s curses. A winner’s curse, where one has all the power, the riches, everything they could want as a winner but the cons usually outweigh such gifts.

Jasmine was a privileged princess but that meant she was a target for a greedy vizier and princess who only wanted to add her money to their fortunes.

Aladdin got the lamp but it meant only that he had to be on guard to keep up his Prince Ali lie, and later, for Jafar who stole the lamp.

Jafar became a genie, he technically “won” since he got what he wanted, to become all powerful with phenomenal cosmic powers. But he couldn’t use it since he was stuck in an itty bitty living space.

A genie’s life was one big winner’s curse. She was beholden to people who only saw her as much of an object as her lamp and the wishes she could materialize.

Maybe everyone’s lives had a bit of a winner’s curse. The Aks “won,” got their happily ever afters in Auradon but others would always be resentful of their status and try to take it away from them. Like all of their most dangerous enemies that lived just across the bridge plotting to do just that.

And if they won, if they somehow managed not to screw up saving the world, the villains would still rise to do just that. Someone will be jealous of their fame and try to usurp the glory. People might see her as more than a wishmaker... or people would just see it as bonus. Date her for the popularity and the power.

There would always be something to outweigh the good.

And unlike any other curse, there was no way to break it.

“And I thought maybe if I did this, helped lead to save Auradon that it could change. People would see that magic can be used not just for selfish desires but to help the kingdom. That I’m so much more than wish fulfillment. But all this proved just the opposite. I can’t lead. I should be accept that my life will eventually be solitude and greedy people. And admit my parents were right all along to boot.” Jordan sank to the ground, staring uselessly at her wrists where the gold bracelets would usually shine like a mocking reminder.

And for some reason, Jay was caught by that last part rather than the real emotional turmoil that she talked about before.

“I thought-why are you so upset your parents are right?” He asked

Jordan wiped her eyes again now that she was no longer feeling weepy, “I love my parents and I love hanging out with them but- you know. They’re not- They gave up parenting me so I- I thought I would get back at them by not being like them at all. I’m serious and hard working and not spontaneous at all. Just be nothing like them, cut ties and all that. Well,not that I had to try too hard, a lot of my personality comes natural but I wanted to stick it to them.”

“Not that they care. They say it’s just a phase and when I’m a grown up, I’ll act like a regular genie like thm. Still.. hate to prove them right.”

“To be fair, I think some of the standard genie personailty comes from being in solitary confinement for thousands of years at a time,” Aziz said with a small smile as he slid down next to her.

Just like old times.

Jordan genuinely smiled at the glimpse of Aziz, the Aziz that was her best friend and brother and confident, her platonic soul mate that she loved. “Actually, because I made that vow to accept that I’m a genie and that I should act like one, that’s why I was more interested in your love life than usual. You’re my Aladdin so I had to keep you safe from your worst mortal impulses. As usual.”

Aziz’s small smile faded and Jordan frowned at the change, remembering their previous words, “Though we’re not like our Dads… not if you just-”

“I don’t tolerate you for the wishes you might grant me.” Aziz said, directly staring her in the eye so she’d know he was telling the truth. Not that she needed that, somewhere in her heart she knew that had been a lie. But what hurt more than the lie itself was..

“Then why the hell would you say that? You know that’s my worst fear and that you’re one of the few exceptions. Why would you-” “I wanted to hurt you as much as you’d you hurt me.” Aziz answered calmly.

“How have I ever hurt you? I’m the one always saving your neck!” Jordan defended.

“That’s exactly it! You’re always trying to save me or set me up on dates because you don’t think I can do it myself. You think I lead with my dick, that I’m clumsy and breakable and impulsive and foolish. The same thing you think of all mortals. And I thought I was the one exception to you, but I’m not.” Aziz cried.

Jordan scoffed, not sure how to respond except, “Can you blame me? You mess up on so many things.”

“Thanks, Jordan. Really.” Aziz rolled his eyes, “Thanks for thinking the same things of me as everyone else does.”

Aziz seized up Jay who came to sit down across from them in a small triangle with a bewildered look at their back and forth. Totally confused as to the thought that Aziz could have problems of his own which Aziz was too happy to correct.

“You don’t think I can do anything on my own. Everyone else thinks I’m forgettable, I’ve been totally useless on this mission. The only reason people know me is because I’m Aladdin’s son and you’re my genie. That’s it. But Jay… Jay is….”

Jay tensed as if already waiting for the moment he could punch Aziz for the insult.

“Jay is wonderful,” Aziz mocked in a high falsetto before going back to his normal voice, “”Jay is so charming and agile and clever. He’s a real thief.” Do you know how much it sucks for people to say that you’re more like Aladdin than me?”

Jay gaped, “Um-h-how I never-No one told me?” “No, they’d never tell you that your similar to one of Auradon’s heroes. I’m the one they tell.. Straight to my face how they think you’re more Aladdin’s son than I am,” Aziz said bitterly.

“Well, you’re definitely Jasmine’s son. You have her political intelligence,” Jordan pointed out optimistically as she used to do when Aziz vented about Jay. Cutting off Jay’s proud smile when he opened his mouth, clearly about to self brag at the worst possible moment.

“It still sucks. I’m forgettable to people. Invisible now that Jay’s around.” Aziz turned to Jay, “I used to wish you were a mini Jafar. I would have had more of a reason to hate you if you were like your dad, and I wouldn’t have to admit that I’m just so jealous that you’re better than me in everything.”

Aziz felt his blood pump, and stod up, pacing for more room as more feeling spilled into words that he hadn’t been able to say out loud before, “I’m not like the other princes. I’m not going to rule Agrabah, my sister is, so what do I do? I don’t have to take governing classes or really find a future queen right away which is great but- that made me even more unremarkable. I had no prince duties, I’m not a mini Aladdin. It felt like my introvertedness, my own personality was preventing me from following my legacy. And I tried to change myself to be more outgoing and be one jump ahead of what everyone expected of me but then Jay came and then…. I felt like I was always going to be inferior to everyone. All the Jays and the magical genies around me were more interesting than I could ever be.”

Jay’s proud look vanished, taking on a more thoughtful expression, “Maybe I could help you be better? So we’re equals in stealing.” Before this conversation it would have been mocking, another punch to the gut, but Aziz could see that Jay was being genuine, and Aziz smiled at the offer.

“Thanks but no thanks. I had a conversation with a friend,” He turned to Jordan, emphasizing, “Just a friend, and she made me realize that if people can’t bother to see past my introvertedness or prefer Jay over me, that I don’t need them.”

Aziz turned to Jay once more, “But I’m sorry that I took out all my jealousy on you, and acted like you the Jafar I wanted you to be.”

Jordan leaned his shoulder, still thinking of his previous words, “I’m sorry that I made you think you weren’t the exception to my view of mortals. You are. I don’t think you’re completely incapable of doing things on your own. I like hanging out with you, we have the best times together. And your… your love life is entertaining. Honestly, sometimes-and you’re not allowed to overanalyze this like usual or use me as your case study in psychology class again-maybe the reason I’m so invested in your life because it’s better than my own. And if you need me, you won’t leave me. But if it bothers you, I’ll ask for your permission first.” Aziz side-hugged her and for once, did not try to probe that admission ripe for psychoanalytical analysis, “'Ant ealiq maei, Bmout Fiki.”

“You know, I really dislike when you talk like that in front of me.” Jordan and Aziz unhugged and looked quizzically at Jay, “What the sentimental mushiness? You’re stuck in a heart to heart, you gotto deal with it.”

“No, the Arabic thing. I don’t know,” Jay almost physically shrank back as if wishing he could take the words back but he continued trying to pretend he was talking to Jade again or his friends, “Like you said Jafar only taught me how to steal and cheat, not language. I-I want to, I heard so much about Agrabah but…”

Jay sighed and started again, “I want to know stuff like Arabic and see Agrabah but you always stuck together and throw it in my face that I don’t know those things. How can I? It’s not my fault that I was born here. I never had a chance to learn all the things you know. Or learn “big words” or-or anything you grew up with. You know I’m not like you and you keep judging me for that. I’m trying to change and you think I’m lying.”

Aziz and Jordan looked shame-faced at the floor, mullifying the last of Jay’s previous anger towards them.

“I am trying. But- Everyone else is doing better than me. Mal is embracing her role as a court lady, Carlos is having a blast at school, getting to learn techno stuff and helping the animal shelter. Evie has her business. I have tourney and R.O.A.R. but that still involves the fighting that makes me a Vk.”

“But we- it doesn’t make you a Vk,” Aziz faltered on the point because they all knew it was wrong. Jay’s aggression on the court was another thing that made him stand out compared to the polite royals who never fought in their life. So vulgar, so ruthless. So villainous.

“I still can’t stop myself from stealing shiny objects. I still seek out the exits of each room because that’s just what you do here to survive. It- I feel like I haven’t improved as much as the others have but I don’t know how I’m supposed to get better. But I have changed. I’d forgotten how bad it is here, I got soft.. I’m just stuck.”

“And I thought I was doing better. I care about my friends like good guys do. I protect them but I haven’t really,” Jay admitted, some of his former doubts of whether his big brother title was earned, resurfacing.

“I’ve done nothing for my friends, and I heard you don’t need to but I- I was not raised that way. You have to be able to offer something if you want to be worth anyone’s time. Everything is transactional. Dad cared for me because of what I could give him. I thought it was the same with friends. Even though it’s not transactional, I still feel like a worthless friend without being able to offer anything.” Jay ended abruptly, shifting his gaze to the lint on the oriental rug, picking at it to give himself something to do than look at their pitying stares, “I really haven’t changed if I still think like Dad, I guess, but I can’t shake it.”

But Jordan placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look up at, not pity, but a sort of understanding.

They had all messed up. Resenting each other for not seeing their difficulties, for basing their views on expectation and legacy rather than reality and how the shadows of their parents haunted many of their actions.

But with the truth revealed, the biases stripped away, they wouldn’t continue.

“I’m sorry. Neither of us have been treating you fairly, but we could teach you Arabic. If you join us in Agrabah for vacation,” Aziz trailed off, offering his hand.

“Sure,” Jay smiled, “I think I’ll be able to get through it now without wanting to punch you.”

They all stood up, stretching out their limbs, feeling much more relaxed now that some of the air was cleared.

“What are you smiling about?” Aziz punched Jordan’s shoulder to get her attention from wherever she was zoning out.

“I was just thinking it’s a funny coincidence that we’re all sexy, witty bisexuals with daddy issues and a love for gold, jewels and parkour-flipping adventures,” Jordan raised a sardonic eyebrow, “But I can’t figure out if it’s just us or maybe all Agrabahians share that.”

The three took a pause, staring at each other at the surprising commonality between them.

Jay was the first to recover with his usual smirk, “I don’t know about these two or the supposed “daddy issues” but sexiness always applies to me.”

“Get over yourself.” Aziz rolled his eyes before unsubtly puffing up his own chest, “We all are sexy. It’s practically in our national anthem. “More than often that not, we’re hotter that hot-“

“In a lot of good ways.” Jordan finished, bumping her hip against his, the first friendly smile she gave to him in days, "Though I'm the wittest out of us."

"You? Really? You don't snark, you just insult people." Jay retorted.

"It's true. And you always "reference" things that only your parents know. Like when you go all Spanish, "Say hello to my little friend." Aziz added.

"That's from Scar-right you don't know that. Well there's um...What great one-liners have you've come up with?" Jordan shot back, clearly perturbed by Jay and Aziz teaming up against her with the same condescending look on her banter skills.

Aziz, the more diplomatic of them, swung an arm over her and Jay’s shoulder, “Let’s not get into another argument now. Even if it’s a stupid argument. We have a battle plan to do.”

#winner’s curse #chapter twenty five #my fanfic #my fanfiction #calix #jay #aziz #jordan #disney descendants

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spacedancer1701 · 5 years ago

Text

Another Life - a Star Trek fic - (Chapters 26 - 30)

Sequel to ‘On Borrowed Time’

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: The Crew of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) Rating/Warnings: None Tags: Romance, Friendship, Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Angst/H/C, Caring/Protective/Tender/Comforting/Happy/Grumpy/Worried McCoy Word Count: This is a long one. Again. 😄 (71 chapters - 177k)

Read it on AO3: Another Life

Chapter 26

Deeply touched by Hope’s words, McCoy’s heart was brimming over with love. What she’d just described was exactly how he’d always hoped to make her feel. Ever since he’d overheard her explaining this beautiful German expression to Uhura, that time in the mess, ages ago.

Geborgen.

They hadn’t been more than colleagues then, really, and yet, looking back, he knew he’d already been irrevocably in love.

“Tell me, love,” he asked, smiling down at her and suddenly feeling the need to hold her extra gently, her slight frame seeming even more fragile to him than before. “Does that mean you feel ‘geborgen’ with me?”

“Of course, I do, Leonard,” she chuckled, sounding surprised at the question, “very much so.”

“That’s good,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“How do you even know this word?” she asked, intrigued, turning around and pushing herself up to look at him.

The doctor let his gaze drift off into the distance, casting his mind back in time to when he’d first heard the expression.

“I've actually known it for quite some time,” he smiled, “and I've wanted you to feel that way ever since I first heard it.”

“Oh, come on, tell me already! Where did you first hear it?” Jenny, ever curious, whined and impatiently poked him in the ribs.

“All right, all right, I’ll tell you,” McCoy chuckled, always enjoying teasing her a little. “It was soon after you first came aboard. You were discussing linguistics with Uhura, talking about how some words were so hard to translate, because they had no equivalent in other languages. ‘Geborgen’ was one example.”

“I dimly remember this conversation with Nyota,” Hope wrinkled her nose in concentration, one of her many adorable mannerisms, “but I don't recall you being there.”

“Never mind, love, you were deeply engrossed in the subject,” McCoy remembered fondly, “and I was having a coffee at the next table, happy to just sit there and listen to the two of you nattering away. I recall thinking what a beautiful word it was, and how a girl like you should always feel that way.”

He took a deep breath, suddenly overcome with emotion, as it hit him how much he’d already cared for her even then.

“But it wasn’t just the word and all that it stands for, that resonated with me. It was the way you explained it, the way you talked about it so passionately, your voice so full of longing, that went straight to my heart. I could tell that you hadn’t just chosen a random example, but that this word held a lot of meaning for you personally. It was quite obviously something you deeply longed for.”

Hope’s eyes were growing wide, as she listened attentively. She was obviously only just beginning to understand quite how much attention he’d been paying to her from the beginning.

“I’ve wanted you to feel that way ever since,” he continued, reaching out to gently cup her cheek in his hand. “Every time I held you – or even just your hand, when you were scared or injured or troubled, I’d think, Please, let her feel ‘geborgen’ now. Like on your first assignment, when you were too scared to sleep. Or when you finally confided in me about your secret past. When I held your hand after you’d told me about what your friend’s father had done to you. And the night after, when I held you all night, sleeping in that cave. Or when I held you in my arms, shaken and shivering, after we'd saved that little girl from the pool. Those and all the other times, I was hoping to make you feel ‘geborgen’.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

“And you did, Leonard,” Jenny exclaimed, losing herself in his tender eyes, her heart melting, as she realised just how much she’d meant to him from the start. “Every time. All the time. You’ve made me feel ‘geborgen’ since my very first day on the Enterprise. Since long before we became lovers. Before you even knew the word. Because that's what you do, who you are. You give people ‘Geborgenheit’.”

She could sense McCoy’s emotion as he pulled her close again, and happily snuggled into his warm and loving embrace.

Her mind wandered back to the cave he’d mentioned earlier, making her smile.

“That night in the cave, you know,” she began, reaching up to caress his face.

“What about it, love?” he murmured, nuzzling her hair and nestling his cheek into the palm of her hand.

“That was the best night of my life,” she sighed dreamily.

“Oh?” he responded, and she could practically hear him lift an indignant eyebrow.

“Until then, at least,” she clarified quickly, chuckling when he grunted his approval.

“Seriously, Leonard,” Jenny went on, gently tracing his expressive eyebrow with her thumb, “lying in your arms that night, I remember thinking that, even on the cold, hard floor of a draughty and damp cave, I felt happier and more ‘geborgen’ than I’d ever felt before in my life. In fact, I probably didn’t realise the full meaning of the word until that night.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy exhaled deeply, taking a few moments to absorb her words, and letting them warm his heart and soul. His mind drifting back to that cave, he drew immense pleasure from knowing that he’d managed to make her feel the way he’d intended.

“You’re right,” he said at last, “that night was very special. It might well have been the night that changed everything.”

“How’s that?” she asked, intrigued, and he could hear how much she was enjoying this conversation, revelling in the memories of that particular night. “Was that the night you fell in love with me?”

“Oh no,” he chuckled, giving her an affectionate squeeze and planting a tender kiss on her head.

Her eagerness to make a trip down memory lane was tangible, and he was happy to indulge her.

“I fell head over heels in love with you the moment I first saw you. But that night in the cave was probably the first time I admitted it – if only to myself. Holding you like that, there was no more denying that what I felt for you was much more than just fatherly affection. I remember lying awake for nights afterwards, longing to hold you again, yet tormenting myself over the aberration of my feelings for you and blaming myself for letting it go that far. But, as we both know, in the end it still took a lot more time after that, an amazing vacation and some serious convincing on your side, until I finally gave in to the inevitable.”

He paused a little, shaking his head in silent wonder.

“What a waste of time. But then, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Getting to know you as I did, falling in love with you a little more every day, was just wonderful.”

“I know exactly what you mean, Leonard,” Hope said softly, regarding him tenderly. “It was just the same for me. Drawn to you from the moment we met and I volunteered to work in sickbay. Wanting to be near you and trying to stay away at the same time, for fear of being too obvious. Convincing myself that I was too young for you to take me seriously, that you’d never be interested in me as a woman.”

McCoy snorted and let his hands roam all over her body, smiling when he felt her shiver with longing.

“And what a woman you are,” he crooned. “All woman. Even though I agree, you were far too young, it was impossible to ignore your charms, I can tell you!”

Laughing and squirming a little under his teasing touch, she went on, “I adored you, Leonard. I admired you, and I was more than content to just be your friend. Even though it was obvious that you cared about me, I thought that was just part of being the kind of doctor you are. And I was, of course, perfectly aware that you were trying to gain my trust, hoping that I would open up about my past. But when I slipped into your arms that night in the cave, it felt like… it’s hard to explain… like coming home, like I belonged there. It was the most wonderful feeling. I even dreamed about you gently kissing me goodnight, practically feeling your lips in my hair.”

She shook her head, chuckling softly at the memory.

“You were still awake then?” McCoy burst out, still embarrassed after all this time.

“You mean,” Hope asked guardedly, “I wasn’t imagining it after all?”

“No, my love,” he replied guiltily. “I really did brush a kiss on your hair that night, when I thought you were fast asleep.”

He fell silent, ashamed of having lost control and taken advantage of the situation, if just for a single moment. It was against everything he believed in, definitely against his moral code as a doctor and as an officer. He’d been in charge, responsible for her, and she’d trusted him. And even though it had just been one innocent kiss on her head, he suddenly felt the need to explain.

“You have no idea what I was going through that evening,” McCoy sighed, unable to look her in the eye. “What being so close to you was doing to me. Our very private conversations, our voices so beautifully in harmony when we passed the time with that singing competition. I just couldn’t help myself, I simply had to let out some of all those pent-up emotions.”

He puffed out a self-conscious chuckle.

“And then, with you lying there in my arms, so completely trusting and peacefully asleep, or at least that’s what I thought,” he chortled, “I was overwhelmed by the intensity of my feelings. Completely unprepared for the depth of my love for you. And your pressing up against me while you were trying to get comfortable didn’t exactly help.”

“Wow,” was all Hope got out, quite obviously blown away by his revelation. “If only I’d known.”

She kissed him tenderly on the lips, lost in her own sweet memories of that night, and apparently not sharing his view that what he’d done had been in any way indecent. Looking at her sweet face, he could feel the romance of the night in that cave every bit as intensely as he had then.

“Every time I think I couldn’t possibly love you any more than I already do, you go and say or do something that makes me fall in love with you all over again,” she murmured, and McCoy was thrilled to know that he could still touch her this deeply with his words.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Anyway,” Jenny continued after a while, “after that night there was no denying that I was madly in love with you. Not only as my friend and mentor, but in every sense of the word. Nevertheless, it took an amazing vacation, as you put it, for me to feel confident that our age difference didn’t really matter to you, that you didn’t mind my lack of experience, and…”

“Silly us,” McCoy cut in, shaking his head, “there you were worrying about being too young and inexperienced, while I fretted over being too old to keep up with your youthful vigour.”

Jenny nodded, amusement lighting up her face and eyes.

“Sorry,” McCoy said softly, “I rudely interrupted you there. You were saying?”

“I was saying,” she smiled, feeling a little mischievous, “it took an amazing holiday and some minor signs of jealousy on your part, to finally make me realise that you might see me as a woman rather than a girl after all.”

Seeing McCoy flush a deep red at that, she could hardly keep from laughing out loud.

“Jealous? Me? You must be kidding!” he growled.

“Oh come on, I thought it was just so sweet,” she giggled.

“It was pathetic,” he grumbled, not even trying to deny it any longer. “And not something I’m proud of, either, I can tell you. But if it helped bring us together, I’ll gladly admit to it. I’ve never known jealousy like this before. And I certainly didn’t have the right to feel it, when we weren’t even together. But then, I’ve never before loved anyone else the way I love you, either.”

Jenny’s heart leapt with joy, hearing him declare his love for her like that. He was such a wonderful man, so special, and everything to her. And even though she knew how he felt about her, she could never get enough of hearing him say it out loud.

“Honestly,” McCoy went on uncomfortably, still dwelling on the subject, “I’ve never been the jealous type before. Not excessively, anyway. When someone left me for someone else, I always thought I deserved it. And when I found out that Jocelyn was cheating on me, I was more angry than jealous. The love was already gone.”

Jenny was sorry to have brought this up in the first place. She’d only meant to tease him a little, not upset him. But of course, she should have guessed that after Jocelyn, everything to do with infidelity would be a touchy subject for him.

“But with you, it’s different. Everything is,” McCoy continued quietly, and the earnest look on his face told her how important this was to him. “You’re special, Jenny. You’re … sacred to me, there is no other word for it. The thought of anyone else touching you the way I’m allowed to, makes me sick.”

“Me too,” she smiled, hoping to ease his mind and meaning every word. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to touch me that way, either.”

Then, thinking of all the delicious ways the doctor loved to touch her, she added with a grin, “Not that I think anyone could.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy felt heat rising inside him at her words, her cheeky grin telling him exactly what she was thinking right now. And although he was mentally kicking himself for having pursued the subject at all, he was grateful that she’d so expressly assured him of her faithfulness. Not that he thought her to be the cheating kind anyway. She might leave him one day, yes, but she’d certainly never cheat on him, of that he was sure.

“You don’t still feel jealous, do you?” Hope broke into his thoughts, the gentle concern in her eyes reminding him that she’d never mock his insecurities. “My dancing with Pavel, for example. Does it bother you?”

“No, of course not,” he was quick to reply.

Although he had to admit that watching her in Chekov's arms still rankled a little. But Hope was true and loyal to a fault, there was no doubt about it, and he really liked the young Russian, too. And even though it was obvious that the boy was still as infatuated with her as ever, Hope had never given him reason to believe that she felt anything but friendship for Pavel.

McCoy didn’t know how convincing he’d sounded, but Hope chose not to doubt his answer. And she certainly didn't offer to stop dancing with Chekov. He'd never ask her to give up something she loved on his behalf, no matter his feelings, and she knew that.

“I’m sorry I brought this whole jealousy thing up, Leonard,” Jenny smiled, kissing him softly and looking him straight in the eye. “And I certainly didn’t mean for you to explain or defend yourself. I just wanted to tease you a little, because it was extremely sweet and flattering at the time. And totally unfounded, I can assure you. I haven’t been interested in any other man since the day we first met. It sounds soppy, I know, but that’s just the way it is.”

“Can’t be too sappy for me,” McCoy countered, emphasising his use of the American term, touched by the way she’d tried to put him at ease, so typically Hope, always acutely aware of people’s sensibilities and needs.

Speaking of which, he thought, feeling another kind of need demanding to be taken care of. It would seem their conversation had made him want her more than ever. So, before she could say any more, he covered her mouth with a hungry kiss.

“I just can wait any longer, love,” he murmured against her lips. “That night in the cave? You want to know what I felt? I think I really need to show you rather than just talk about it.”

And remembering how he’d hardly been able to contain himself when she’d pressed up against him that night, trying to get comfortable in his arms, he felt a sudden urge to get even.

So, with a wicked glint in his eye that Jenny recognised only too well, and which sent a pleasant shiver of anticipation through her, the doctor focused all his skilful attention on her magnificent body. Grateful for every little thing in their past that had brought them together and led to the wonderfully fulfilling relationship they had now.

Chapter 27

Hardly feeling his legs anymore, McCoy was dragging his exhausted body through the corridors towards his quarters. It had only been a week, but the evening cuddled up in bed with Hope, basking in memories and their love, seemed like a lifetime ago.

He remembered lying awake in the small hours of the next morning, unable to go back to sleep after having woken from yet another nightmare of Hope falling down crevices and worse. Still rattled by the events of the previous day, all he’d really wanted was to feel her warm and very alive body, peacefully asleep, nestled against him. It hadn’t been the first time, he’d come this close to losing her. And it very probably wouldn’t be the last. But he was certainly never going to get used to the feeling.

He wouldn’t have minded staying in bed forever, just holding her and keeping her from each and every harm, but of course, that was never going to happen. Instead, just like the dutiful officers they were, they’d got up in time for their shifts, and had helped pick up the pieces after the Trian earthquake debacle.

Fortunately, Trias hadn’t had to report many casualties, so the Trians had politely declined Kirk’s offer of additional medical support. They had, however, gratefully accepted the Enterprise’s geologists’ help, appreciating their vast experience and access to the Federation’s data banks regarding earthquakes. And, of course, the negotiations had to continue as well.

Kirk and McCoy had had a heart to heart over breakfast, Kirk’s refusal to go after Hope still hanging between them. But, as always, they’d quickly made up, both apologising and accepting the other’s apology in return. It was how their friendship worked. They didn’t need many words. With the Andorian ambassador already aboard, and the Tellarite ambassador still on the planet, McCoy acknowledged that Kirk hadn’t really had a choice, and that the decision had been hard on the captain, too, whereas Kirk admitted he’d been sure that the doctor would never leave Hope behind, and had, in fact, counted on him disobeying his orders and going after her anyway.

Besides, Kirk always cut Bones some slack regarding the way he talked to his captain. Or any superior for that matter. And frankly, he wouldn’t even want the doctor to hold back. His friend’s unfiltered words had often proved invaluable input, and the captain had come to rely on McCoy to speak his mind. Whether or not to follow the doctor’s advice, remained Kirk’s decision, after all.

As peacefully as the morning had started for McCoy, the respite from his fretting had been very brief, indeed, as by the end of the day, the doctor had had a sickbay full of security officers fighting for their lives after saving one careless ambassador from his own folly and getting themselves severely poisoned in the process.

Damn ambassadors!

Apparently, this idiot had been intent on getting a good look at the dinosaurs, and found a way to deactivate part of the forcefield. Finding himself attacked right after setting foot, or rather hoof, on the other side, the security detail had had no choice but to go after him and save his hide. Regrettably, while able to drive away the assaulting beasts, they’d got themselves stung by some symbiotic insects that turned out to be highly toxic for humans hours later, after they’d already returned to the Enterprise.

Even with the Trians’ support, who’d instantly supplied all the information they had on the insects in question, it had taken McCoy almost two days to find an effective antidote. Two days of continuous lab work, while at the same time doing everything to keep the wide range of symptoms at bay. And not just rashes or itches, either, but severe symptoms like sudden heart or lung failure or temporary blindness.

With all this going on, the doctor hadn’t left sickbay for a minute those first two days and nights, and even when everybody had been given the antidote, he hadn’t really dared to leave his patients alone for long. In sum, McCoy had spent exactly half a night in his quarters all week, and then he’d been far too anxious and exhausted for more than a little cuddle with Hope. Spending actual time with her seemed like a distant memory.

Not for lack of trying on her side, though, he was ashamed to admit. Having to attend the negotiations all day, she hadn’t had a lot of time to spend in sickbay, like she normally most certainly would have. But she’d still tried to find time for a quick coffee in the evenings, at least. Every time she’d shown up, however, bearing gifts in the form of steaming coffee mugs, he’d found himself talking about nothing but his current medical issues. He knew, of course, how much she needed to talk about her day, share her experiences, too, but he’d simply not been able to really pay attention to any of her stories. Frankly, just seeing that she’d come back from Trias in one piece, had been all he’d needed to know.

Hope, unsurprisingly, had claimed she understood, letting him prattle on about his thoughts and theories, listening attentively to all his fears and problems. And he didn’t doubt that she did. So far, she’d always been very understanding where his job was concerned. The only question was, for how much longer? Would she always put up with him being busy elsewhere for days, or weeks at a time? Or would she start turning to other people sooner or later? People – men – with time to spare, who were there for her? Like Chekov, for example? Maybe Jocelyn had been understanding, too, in the beginning. He honestly couldn’t remember.

So, now, McCoy was standing outside his quarters with a guilty conscience and mixed feelings, both longing to finally be with Hope again, but at the same time fully expecting her to be in a huff with him. All his fears were allayed, of course, the moment he entered and she came flying into his arms, wrapping him in love and tender kisses. He really should have known.

Drawing back a little, Hope’s eyes took on a concerned look.

"Oh, Leonard, you look exhausted!” she exclaimed, eyes glistening with compassion. “Come on, let me take care of you."

Taking him by the hand, she pulled him over to the bed, gently stripping him of his clothes along the way, made him lie down on his stomach, and started to massage his aching body.

“You’ve given your all this past week,” she murmured softly, as her hands caressed his back and shoulders. “Now it’s time to let go. No more decisions today, no more responsibilities. You just rest and let me take over.”

She's definitely too good to be true, were his last coherent thoughts, before surrendering to her gentle hands and giving in to the blissful feeling of being pampered and cared for.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny had expected a worn out and tired McCoy to come back to his quarters that night, and had already made preparations for a relaxed evening, wanting to make him comfortable and spoil him a little after the week he’d had. But when she saw how completely drained he looked, her heart went out to him.

She admired how committed he was to his job and his patients. The way he was a healer with all his heart was one of the things she loved so much about him. But his devotion sometimes bordered on self-destruction, and she’d made it her mission to look after him, whenever he was too caught up in his medical duties.

Only this time, with the negotiations going on, unfortunately, she hadn’t been around all that much. Christine, of course, always tried her best, too, taking as many responsibilities off the CMS’s hands as she could. But with everything going on in sickbay during the past week, the nurse had probably hardly been able to look after herself, let alone the doctor.

At least she could be here for him now, Jenny thought, looking fondly at Leonard’s familiar form, while her hands were trying to ease away the tension in his muscles. And she seemed to be doing a good job, judging from the little sighs and moans of pleasure her touches drew from him.

“I don’t deserve you, love,” he murmured sleepily, making her smile.

“No, you don’t,” she laughed affectionately, “you deserve much better.”

At that, McCoy turned around, rolling over onto his back, to look at her, the unbridled love in his eyes nearly taking her breath away.

“You know, I came here with a guilty conscience, love,” he smiled ruefully at her, “fully expecting you to be cross with me, or at least upset for having shamefully neglected you. But you gave me this prodigal-son-returns-home hug instead and said those magic words.”

“What magic words?” Jenny chuckled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” McCoy answered dreamily, his eyelids drooping, and was fast asleep moments later.

Jenny gazed at his beautiful face, so relaxed and serene in sleep now, overwhelmed, once again, by the depth of her love for him. He more than deserved to be taken care of, and she was grateful that he let her, given that he usually liked it the other way round.

He was such a wonderful man, so very caring and generous, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind his affected surliness. And she felt a rush of immense happiness every time she was reminded of what a special place she held in this big heart of his.

Chapter 28

McCoy and Hope were standing side by side on the observation deck, gazing out at the stars in companionable silence. Not quite touching, but close enough to feel each other’s warm and loving presence. The last few days, since they’d left the Trias system, had been blissfully peaceful, and between sickbay being unusually quiet, and Hope being busy doing all the things that Hope liked to do in her free time, the doctor had had time to reflect on their relationship.

He’d found that he always tried to be strong for her, to look out for her and protect her, because that was how he liked to see himself, what he wanted to be in his heart. But on closer inspection, truth was that even in the beginning, long before they’d become lovers, she’d been there for him just as much as he’d been there for her. He might have helped her through a difficult time during those first few months aboard the Enterprise, but she’d always proven herself immensely supportive and a great source of comfort in return, basically filling his life with happiness. A kind of happiness he hadn’t known before.

And even when she’d seen him at his worst, his weakest, when he’d broken down over Joanna’s illness, she’d shown nothing but strength and support, not once wavering in her love and respect for him. He’d been terribly embarrassed about losing it so completely in front of her, but she’d been adamant that that hadn’t been weakness at all. On the contrary, she thought that functioning as a scientist while beside himself with fear for his daughter had required exceptional strength, and that, if anything, that whole episode had made her feel even safer with him.

How does she always find the right words? McCoy thought fondly, and felt the sudden need to talk about all this to Hope. To tell her how much he loved and appreciated her, loved being in a relationship with her, but at the same time to open up about his fears, too.

“Our relationship is so different from my former ones,” he began quietly. “You are so different. You never nag me about committing myself too much to my job or neglecting you.”

“Why would I?” Hope answered, sounding sincerely surprised. “It’s who you are, it’s part of why I love you. You never “nag” me about immersing myself in my work, either. Or spending time with the band, practicing, or with Pavel, dancing, for that matter.”

She chuckled, her eyes twinkling in this gently teasing, adorable way that never failed to lift his spirits.

“Seriously, Leonard,” she continued, obviously realising that he needed actual reassurance, “I don’t feel neglected at all. In fact, and please don’t take this wrong, I need my time away from you. I mean, didn’t your exes have lives of their own? I enjoy spending time and doing things with my other friends, too. Just like I wouldn’t want you to turn your back on your other friends. I perfectly understand if you want to spend some time alone with the captain, or Scotty, or whoever. We’re not joined at the hip.”

A naughty glint lit up her eyes.

“Although I definitely enjoy the times when our hips…”

“Stop right there!” McCoy groaned, laughing, “I get the picture, thank you very much!”

And a moment later, he winked at her and whispered, “Uh, by the way, the feeling’s mutual.”

Hope laughed out loud at that, then got serious again and held his gaze.

“What really matters, Leonard, is that, whatever I do and whoever I spend time with, I’ll be coming back to you at the end of the day. That knowledge alone is enough for me to be perfectly happy. You’re my anchor, my rock, my… home. Yes, wherever you are, is home to me.”

She uttered those last words wonderingly, as if the fact had only just occurred to her.

“You’ll be there to share my worries and my joys, just as I’ll be there to share yours. And I know that, however busy you might be, you’ll always be there for me when I really need you. What we have is perfect, Leonard. At least for me.”

McCoy was thrown. Hope’s words had gone straight to his heart, making him tingle all over as a comforting warmth spread through his body.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, gazing deeply into her eyes. “Not only do you accept everything I do, everything I am, without complaining, you even encourage me to stay that way. Surely, there must be something you’d like to change about me?”

“Not a single thing, Leonard. Because then you wouldn’t be you anymore,” Hope smiled lovingly, and then, eyes sparkling with mischief, added, “However, had you asked me, if I found some things about you irritating, now that would be a different story altogether…”

She jumped and laughed, when the doctor playfully poked her in the ribs for that last comment.

“Don’t be cheeky, Lieutenant!” he chided, squeezing her briefly before resuming his former position beside her, looking out at the stars.

Of course, by now everyone aboard the Enterprise suspected them to be more than just friends, and McCoy was sure they’d even approve of their relationship, but being too intimate in front of the crew just didn’t feel right. And he was grateful that Hope fully agreed with him in that respect.

Like she seems to agree with me in most every respect, he thought affectionately.

McCoy let a couple of minutes pass, just enjoying their closeness and the soothing view the picture window offered, before taking up the conversation again. There was still more he needed to address.

“It’s just that, sometimes, I worry that I’m asking too much of you,” he said softly. “When I can’t stop talking about work, even when I’m off duty, and you’ll listen patiently, help me get my thoughts in order, even give me new ideas and make me see things from a different perspective.”

“But isn’t that what partners do?” Hope smiled, turning to look at him again. “Support each other? You sure have given me more than enough support of your own since we met, don’t you think?”

McCoy nodded once, taking her point.

“But I can be a real old curmudgeon when I worry about something,” he went on, not yet ready to drop the subject. “I know that. What about the times when I’m moody and cranky and not in the mood for… you know what? You’re a healthy young woman, you have your… needs.”

Hope laughed out loud, tilting her head and gazing at him with a mixture of disbelief and reproach.

“You’re not serious now, are you, Leonard?” she asked, shaking her head. “Would you try to, or even want to … you know what … with me, if I weren't in the mood or had other things on my mind?”

“Of course not!” he shot back promptly, appalled by the very idea. “That would be nothing short of rape!”

Hope said nothing in return, but just kept looking at him, raising a knowing eyebrow.

“Oh, I see,” he mumbled after a moment and grudgingly agreed, “you’re right, of course. That was silly of me.”

Hope looked up at him with an indulgent grin, that mischievous glint, McCoy had come to love so much, returning to her eyes.

Leaning closer, she confided in a conspiratorial whisper, “But there’s something else, you know. And please don’t tell my partner I said that, but I’m okay with him not always being in the mood, because I know that he’ll be trying to make up for it the next time, and that’s really something a girl can look forward to. That’s when I get all my foot rubs and back rubs, and the most passionate … you know what… imaginable. Maybe I don’t tell him often enough – don’t want him to get big-headed, but my partner is the most wonderful lover. So, no complaints in that regard whatsoever.”

Hope straightened up again, moving slightly away from the doctor and trying hard not to guffaw, when she saw the colour that had risen to McCoy’s cheeks.

“And now you’re wondering where, the hell, she’s gone, this shy and innocent girl you first fell in love with,” she giggled, her eyes shining with mirth.

“Something along those lines, yes,” he chuckled.

“Well, I’ve got sad news for you, Doctor,” Hope responded with a look of fake regret on her face. “That girl’s gone for good. And that sure is one thing you have to take all the blame for.”

McCoy couldn’t help grinning, and squeezed her waist, before she continued.

“I mean it, Leonard. You’re a doctor,” Hope’s eyes were serious again. “You don’t stop caring about your patients when you’re off duty. You can’t quit searching for solutions until you’ve found them, when it’s a matter of life and death. And you need a sounding board, or you’d go mad with your thoughts going round and round in your head. So, what’s the big deal? When you’re pouring over a problem, I’ll listen. When you’re in the middle of an emergency, I’ll try to support you and your team the best I can. It’s the least I can do. We’re on the same side in this. In everything. And you’ve always supported me, too.”

For the umpteenth time, McCoy found himself in awe of Hope’s keen insight, belying her youth and making her seem mature beyond her age. How did she always do this? Put his fears into a few simple words and then dispel them just like that.

He admired her level-headedness and appreciated her matter-of-fact way of speaking. That no-nonsense attitude he’d come to like and rely on to help him put his own feelings into perspective. And yet, Hope was far from cold or lacking emotion. On the contrary, she was the most warm-hearted, outgoing and affectionate person he knew. Quite how she managed to unite those two sides so effortlessly within her, eluded him, and certainly never ceased to amaze him.

McCoy had always thought himself a total failure when it came to matters of the heart. Seen himself as unfit for relationships, always feeling guilty for having disappointed yet again. No matter how much he loved them, he just couldn’t make a partner happy. Up until now, that was. Until Hope. Now, all of a sudden, he considered that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been the only one to blame. That maybe it had been them as well. Maybe he’d just never met the right person before. For Hope surely seemed very happy with him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Spock was sitting in a corner at the far side of the observation deck, suppressing a very un-Vulcan smile. Of course, he’d never say anything, but he was pleased that McCoy and Hope were so happy together. It certainly kept McCoy mostly out of his hair nowadays, his contentiousness having diminished somewhat. And he felt admiration for Hope coping so well with always being somewhat of an outsider in this time, feeling a sort of connection with her there.

He had, of course, been trying not to listen in on their private conversation and to concentrate on his reading instead. Why did humans keep forgetting about the sensitivity of his Vulcan ears? McCoy and Hope had been talking too quietly for any other human to overhear, but it had been more than loud enough for him to be able to make out every word.

And even though he knew that social convention demanded he respect their privacy, his curiosity had got the better of him. Curiosity being the one emotion he allowed himself to have. Even if, in this particular case, it might also have been the interest of a caring friend. Whatever it was, it certainly didn’t stop him from wondering where the two of them were headed next, when he saw them leave the observation deck holding hands shortly after.

Chapter 29

Life couldn’t get any better than this, McCoy thought. A quiet sickbay, plenty of free time, and Hope, safe and sound, filling every space in his life and in his heart. Long conversations over dinner and coffee, hot, sneaky kisses in the turbolift or even in his office, after watching her moving suggestively around sickbay or throwing him naughty looks across mess halls and briefing rooms, incredible nights and tender mornings in his quarters. His face hurt with the unaccustomed strain of constantly smiling, and his heart ached in the best of ways, whenever he had to wait for the next private moment with her.

He couldn’t remember ever loving anyone more than Hope, and he was a hundred percent sure that he’d never been loved half as much before, warts and all. What she saw in him, he had no idea, couldn’t grasp even though she was happy to list a thousand reasons whenever she saw the doubt in his eyes. He was, however, getting better at not questioning it too much, and trying to simply delight in his luck instead.

The psychologist in him suspected that the reason why they felt so deeply for each other lay in the life they led, the excitement, the danger, the fear of losing the other. But then he thought back to their first shore leave, the one that had finally brought them together. There hadn’t been any excitement or fear there at all, unless maybe you counted a four-year-old falling into a pool. But helping an elderly couple across the beach or sharing a cake with a lovely teenage boy was hardly adventurous, not even at a stretch. And yet, he’d fallen a little more in love with Hope with every little gesture, every little thing she’d said or done during that glorious week.

No, life couldn’t get any better than this. McCoy knew that. Just like he knew that good things didn’t last. At least not in his world. Hope and he both had beaten death and disaster too many times. One of these days, they just had to run out of luck. Even a logical mind like Spock’s, calculating the odds, would have to agree. Despite feeling on top of the world, or, given the doctor’s disposition, more likely because of it, every happy thought was immediately followed by dread. Dread of this bliss ending somehow, and probably sooner rather than later. He couldn’t help it, he was wired like that.

-x-x-x-x-x-

This time, disaster didn’t strike, but crept up slowly. One day at a time. Jim had taken a landing party to a small, uninhabited planet. Just taking a few samples, having a look at the wildlife, nothing out of the ordinary. Everybody had been routinely checked and decontaminated on return, mission over. Or so they’d thought.

Three days later, Lt. Linden, a botanist and part of the recent landing party, arrived in sickbay with a stiff neck and a slight headache, asking for a pain reliever. McCoy didn’t think much of it. Unlike other people, Jim, for instance, who were permanently stressed and tense, Linden rarely came to him for painkillers or with other medical issues. So he just briefly ran a tricorder over her and sent her off with a mild analgesic.

The next day she was back with a full-on migraine, something she’d never suffered from before, dark circles around her eyes, and a feverish hue to her cheeks. McCoy put her on a biobed for a thorough examination, but couldn’t find anything wrong, apart from a slightly raised temperature. Nevertheless, he took blood samples, and put her under quarantine along with Kirk and the other members of the landing party as a precautionary measure.

Too late, as it turned out, even though Linden’s first blood tests, according to which she should have been in excellent health, still didn’t give any explanation. Only when McCoy drew some more blood and started over again, did he detect some kind of virus, unlike any he’d seen before. Going on to test Jim and the others, now that he knew exactly what he was looking for, he found them all infected by the same virus, even though none of them displayed any symptoms.

Cursing under his breath, mostly because he hadn’t detected any infectious agents when he’d first checked the landing party after their return, he assembled a team and set up camp in the biolab, not intending to leave until he’d found a way to get the captain and the others out of quarantine again.

It was a good thing he was a devoted scientist as much as a healer. Although, when he’d first joined Starfleet, he’d somehow imagined he’d be mainly dealing with accidents or war injuries. Smashed bones, haemorrhaging wounds, burns, that kind of thing. Maybe the odd appendicitis or upset stomach. He’d certainly not expected to be dealing with new diseases all the time. But then, he’d always said that space was disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence, hadn’t he?

Hope, bless her, had immediately cancelled all her linguistic activities and come to help Chapel set up and get organised for having eight people quarantined at the same time. She’d also come to the lab several times, trying to counter the increasingly frustrated mood with her natural optimism. And it worked, for every time she left again, his team seemed to be more focused on their tasks, more determined to find a cure for their captain and the others.

Things took a turn for the worse, when Ghatak, a member of the science department and one of Spock’s senior officers, didn’t show up for his shift, and was found dead in his quarters, obviously surprised by a heart attack while having a shower. Meticulous as he was, McCoy checked him for the virus, too, and to his horror found that Ghatak had been infected, even though he hadn’t been in the landing party.

That discovery, of course, immediately eliminated any hope of containing the virus, and McCoy quickly had himself and all sickbay and lab personnel tested. The result was devastating. They all tested positive, all but Hope, a silver lining that sent a feeling of disproportionate relief through his body. The next step, of course, was to have everybody aboard tested, and since Ghatak had neither been on the planet nor in sickbay recently, the odds in favour of finding more infected crew members throughout the ship scared the doctor.

To get her out of sickbay and away from himself and the other carriers, McCoy sent Hope on her way to collect blood samples from everyone, trusting that she understood the importance of wearing full protective gear for her own safety. The thought that he might not be able to hold or kiss her for a long time, if ever, briefly crossed his mind, making his blood run cold, but thankfully, there were a million other things to consider right now, keeping him from dwelling on that unwelcome thought.

By the time all blood samples had been tested, McCoy was no step closer to understanding what this nasty little virus actually did to the human body, let alone to finding a cure. All he knew was that the speed at which it spread was terrifying. This was one vicious little devil, and every single person aboard the Enterprise had tested positive. With two exceptions. Green-blooded Spock, which wasn’t all that surprising, and Hope, which was a complete mystery to the doctor. McCoy was convinced it had something to do with her 20th century physiology, some immunity she had that had been lost over the centuries. But damn if he knew what it was.

McCoy was sorely tempted to put Hope under quarantine now, to keep her safe, but his reasonable doctor’s brain convinced him of the absurdity of that. Instead, he settled on checking her for everything he could think of, hoping to find any clues as to her immunity. While he drew gallons of blood from her to examine, she mentioned feeling like Chekov at the time he’d been the only one in a landing party who hadn’t mysteriously aged, having heard the full story from Pavel several times. 1)

McCoy had, of course, already thought of and checked for that, too. To no avail.

“Pavel had been too scared that time. So maybe I’m too happily in love?” Hope joked, and the doctor couldn’t help smiling despite his growing frustration.

“But then I wouldn’t be infected, either, love, would I?” he countered, raising an amused eyebrow and briefly caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.

“You might be as much in love as I am, Leonard,” she said softly, and he could see that she was only half joking, “but with all your constant worrying, I’m afraid you can’t even begin to imagine the blissful happiness I’ve found in you.”

McCoy smiled and patted her cheek, closing his eyes for a moment to savour her words, and then told her to stay put for a couple of minutes to let her body recover. Maybe she was right, he’d give that theory another shot during his tests.

However, when more and more crew members came down with widely varying symptoms at an increasing rate, he gave up on analysing both the virus and Hope’s blood. It had become pretty clear that the virus simply targeted the weakest organs in every human’s body, and McCoy resorted to less refined methods, simply testing the effect of Hope’s blood on the virus. The result was amazing. Hope’s blood killed the virus. So, he started to work on a serum based on Hope’s blood.

Then another man died. Again one of the older crew members, one of Scotty’s trusted engineers and only ten years older than McCoy himself. The man had already undergone several kidney transplant surgeries and had died in his sleep.

Time was of the essence, and the doctor found that he couldn’t waste any more on research and testing. All he could think of was that he had to come up with an effective serum before he, too, started to have symptoms that might render him unfit for work. Much as he trusted and admired Spock, Jim and the first officer were busy enough running the Enterprise with half the crew already unfit for duty. The Vulcan would hardly have time to replace him and supervise his team’s progress on a serum on top of everything.

Deciding that it was time for more drastic actions, McCoy adapted the crude serum they had so far for his blood type and injected himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this, either, he grinned to himself while he waited for the serum to show effect. 2)

Although glad that he suffered none of the side effects he’d been half expecting, he soon realised that the serum had no effect on him at all. The virus lived on inside him, happily reproducing away. Not one to give up easily, McCoy injected himself two more times with ever increasing dosages, and almost cried with relief when it finally worked. Checking the results several times over, hardly believing that the virus had really been neutralised, he tried not to think of the amount of serum, and consequently Hope’s blood, it had taken to cure just one person.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny nearly kissed the doctor right there in the lab, in front of everyone, when he told her the good news, and was happy to donate more of her blood for the serum. Apparently, McCoy hadn’t yet been able to determine what exactly it was that killed the virus, but for the time being seemed satisfied to know that it worked at all.

The doctor intended to treat the most urgent cases along with Kirk and the command crew next, and then take it from there, trying to get as much serum out of Jenny’s blood as possible. He was hoping to use his own blood and that of the other cured crew members soon, too.

“With the amount of blood we’ve drawn from you, I need you to promise me to be good and not get up any time soon, love,” he smiled as he personally set up the drip to compensate for her blood loss next to the biobed she was lying on. “I’ll be pretty busy and won’t be able to check on you. Can I trust you there?”

His tired eyes were filled with love and worry, and he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead when no one was looking.

Jenny wanted to hold on to him, feel his arms around her, comfort him and be comforted. But of course, that wasn’t an option. So she just nodded and waved him off to get on with the serum. And feeling, indeed, tired and a little woozy, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

1) Reference to the TOS episode “The Deadly Years” 2) Reference to the TOS episode “Miri”

Chapter 30

Mere seconds later, at least that’s what it felt like, Jenny woke up to the sound of Kirk and McCoy’s hushed voices in the middle of a whispered, but heated argument.

“There’s no way Hope can provide enough blood to save everyone aboard, Jim!” the doctor hissed. “Not within the necessary time frame, anyway. It’s much too risky, there’s only so much blood a human can give without suffering permanent damage or worse. You can’t ask her to give any more, and I certainly won’t allow it!”

“I understand your concern, Bones,” the captain whispered back placatingly. “But what’s the alternative?”

“I have no idea, Jim,” McCoy sounded defeated. “I’ve not even figured out what kind of antibodies her blood contains, let alone why my own blood, or yours, is useless. Maybe ours will develop whatever Hope’s contains with time. Time we don’t have.”

“So, what do you suggest?” Kirk’s voice was strained. “We’ve cured the commanding officers and a few more, what do we do now? Draw lots? Choose randomly, by rank, age, name in alphabetical order, and leave the others to die?”

“Well, as a doctor I’d start with those suffering from the most severe symptoms, of course, but maybe you and Starfleet have other priorities,” the doctor snapped, before letting out a resigned sigh, and Jenny’s heart broke at how deflated he sounded.

“I don’t know, Jim.”

“Well, you should, Bones!” the captain hissed, desperation making him bitter. “You’re the doctor, find a solution!”

“Jim, I…”

“And if you ask me, the solution is lying right over there.”

Jenny couldn’t stay out of it any longer. They were talking about her, after all.

“Captain,” she spoke up, “of course I’ll help in any way I can.”

Both heads whipped around, and McCoy was at her side in an instant, putting a protective hand on her arm.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kirk smiled, coming over to stand at her other side.

“Jim!” McCoy growled, his tone warning.

The captain nodded at his agitated friend, then returned his gaze to Hope.

“But let Dr. McCoy explain the risks before you make a decision,” he finished.

“Okay, Doctor, I’m listening,” Jenny said, following Kirk’s lead and deliberately using Leonard’s title to make it clear that she was talking to him as a Starfleet officer and not as his partner.

“This is serious, Lieutenant,” McCoy fumed, eyes blazing as distress turned into anger.

Jenny was immediately sorry. Leonard was understandably worried and exhausted, he felt responsible and helpless, and the thought of having to put her at danger in order to save a few hundred other lives certainly freaked him out.

“If you give too much blood too fast,” the doctor continued, his voice losing its sharp edge when he saw the sincere apology in her eyes, “you’ll go into shock, and then, heart attack, stroke, organ failure, brain damage, take your pick.”

“I see,” she murmured, lifting his hand from where it was still resting on her arm and lacing their fingers together. “But we won’t let it come to that, Leonard. You can monitor me and stop anytime.”

“All right,” McCoy sighed, capitulating after a few moments’ hesitation, and squeezing her fingers, “but only a little more today, and we’ll take it slowly, okay? We’ll set the pace according to the drip.”

“Deal,” Jenny smiled, hearing Kirk exhale deeply in relief before quietly leaving the room.

McCoy made her drink a big glass of orange juice, then fastened a new bag to the drip, and sat down next to her on the bed.

“Didn’t you use some kind of stimulant for increased blood production on Spock when your operated on Sarek?” Jenny asked. “Couldn’t we try that on me, too?” 1)

“Not possible, I’m afraid,” McCoy shook his head. “That only works for copper-based blood.”

Jenny puffed out a frustrated sigh.

“I know you want to help so badly, love,” the doctor smiled, tenderly brushing her hair from her face, “but the best way to do that, is to relax and try to waste as little energy as possible. The less you move, the more blood your body can spare.”

“Got it,” she smiled back, closing her eyes and trying to relax as much as she could.

“And while you rest, I promise I’ll find a way to improve the serum to get even more dosages out of your precious blood,” McCoy whispered close to her ear, brushing a gentle kiss on her temple and then straightening back up to hold and caress her hand.

“Aren’t you needed elsewhere?” Jenny asked, starting to feel lightheaded and drowsy.

“Believe me, love,” he chuckled, continuing to draw little circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I can do with a little break, too.”

It was true, of course, the doctor was desperately in need of a rest. Only, she knew that, if not for her, he’d never take time for even the shortest break in a situation like this.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The next time Jenny woke up, she felt a gentle hand on her cheek. Opening her eyes, she leaned into the familiar touch and smiled at McCoy’s worried and tired face.

“How’re you doing, Sleeping Beauty?” he murmured, his affection rippling through her body like a soft breeze.

She’d never get over how his endearments made her feel, no matter how patronising or unoriginal. Only southern charm could pull that off.

“How did it go?” she asked, trying to shake off the sleepiness.

“Worked like a charm,” he smiled, glancing at the monitor above her head to check the readings.

“Everybody cured?” she enquired hopefully, but could see the answer in his eyes even before he opened his mouth again.

“Not quite yet, love,” he said, and Jenny sensed that he’d rather not told her, but didn’t want to lie to her either.

“Why did you stop?” she wanted to know, even though the reason was pretty clear.

“I had to,” McCoy simply said, tenderly cradling her face in his hand, as his eyes told her everything from the love he held for her to the grief he felt for the patients who hadn’t made it, or wouldn’t make it.

“But we’ll ask you for a little more of your blood tomorrow, love,” he continued, gently running his fingers through her hair.

“Why wait?” she asked, not caring that she sounded like a petulant child. “I don’t feel weak or anything.”

“Believe me, you would, if you were to get up and move around,” he said softly. “Promise me that you’ll move as little as possible. Your body can’t take any strain right now.”

When she just frowned at him, he chuckled, “I know you’re used to doing things fast, my little whirlwind, but even your body needs time to produce blood, you can’t just will it to work faster.”

His words were breezy and kind, but he couldn’t quite hide the fact that he, too, felt desperate and impatient, especially when he kept glancing at her readings, as if hoping to find better ones the next time he looked.

“Oh Leonard, how bad is it out there?” Jenny wanted to know, nodding towards the rest of sickbay.

“Bad enough,” he replied, “but we’re still making progress. Thanks to you.”

There were tears in his eyes now, as he leaned down and brushed a kiss on her lips.

“How many?” she asked, knowing she didn’t even have to add the word ‘dead’.

“Four now,” McCoy answered, his voice sounding choked.

“Who?” she whispered, realising that it made no difference, but needing to know, anyway.

McCoy gave her the names, and they both fell silent, each of them lost in their own memories of the departed.

Jenny knew perfectly well how devastated the doctor was by not having been able to save them, by being so helpless. But she wasn’t, she could help.

“Let’s not waste any more time, Leonard,” she said determinedly. “Draw some more blood now.”

“No way, love!” McCoy shook his head vehemently. “We can’t risk that.”

“I can,” she insisted. “How do you think I feel, lying idly around while someone else might die?”

The doctor just looked at her, a tear running down his cheek, as he silently shook his head again.

“Please, Leonard?”

Another shake of the head.

“Do you even have enough room in sickbay?” Jenny persisted, regarding the dark rings around his eyes. “You must be run off your feet by now.”

“Don’t worry about me, love,” he started to get up. “It’s my job. I’ve been through worse.”

Holding on to his hand, Jenny pleaded with him.

“Leonard, I need to do this. Please let me.”

McCoy refused to meet her eyes, still trying to pull his hand away.

“You wouldn’t hesitate to do it yourself, if you could,” she murmured.

“But I’m a doctor,” he protested. “I took an oath.”

“And I’m your partner,” Jenny said emphatically, feeling that was reason enough. “How much more do we need?”

“No one’s going to die while you’re regaining your strength, Jenny,” McCoy tried to avoid answering her question.

“You can’t promise that, Leonard,” she said softly, “and you know that I know.”

That, at least, brought a little smile to McCoy’s face.

“So, how much more?”

“250 ml,” he finally told her.

“But that’s really not that much, is it?”

“It wouldn’t be, if you hadn’t already donated so much. Jenny,” the doctor lifted his hands imploringly, “your body has reached its limits. You need to accept that. We all do.”

“You’ve just said it. It’s my body. My decision.”

Jenny just couldn’t give up. Not now that they were so close. They couldn’t fail because of a mere 250 ml.

“But your health is my responsibility, and I can’t let you risk your life like that. I love you, Jenny” the doctor said quietly, his sad eyes affecting her far more than his anger ever could. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“That’s not fair,” she whispered, feeling immensely tired and close to tears. “You know that it does.”

McCoy looked at her for a long moment, then sat back down and took a deep breath.

“All right, love,” he sighed, “let’s do this. But I’m not leaving your side. And when I say enough, we’re done. No argument.”

“I promise!” she smiled, settling back comfortably and watching him cross the room to shut the door.

Then he gestured for her to move a little to the side, sat down alongside her on the bed with his back resting against the wall, wrapped one arm around her, and pulled her head against his chest.

“You just rest, and I’ll be watching over you, love,” he murmured, tenderly kissing the top of her head.

Jenny drifted in and out of sleep, relishing the doctor’s warm embrace and the gentle caress of his hand, as he softly talked to her about anything that came to mind.

A sudden commotion outside, thumping noises and shouting, startled her wide awake again, and McCoy bolted out of the room to deal with whatever had just happened in sickbay.

Heaving a sigh, Jenny closed her eyes again, feeling increasingly nauseous and drained in every sense of the word. The monitor above her emitted a low beep, signalling that one of the parameters McCoy had set for her had dropped below the limit.

Checking the readings on the second little monitor by her side, she saw that the amount of blood still needed, was down to 5 ml. A ridiculously small quantity. Surely she could hold out that much longer.

Taking advantage of the fact that McCoy was still distracted outside, Jenny sat up and reset the parameters. Good thing she’d worked in sickbay for a year and had also learned a few tricks from Scotty. She wasn’t really feeling sick or anything. Four more millilitres wouldn’t kill her. And Leonard would finally have enough serum for everyone.

Lying back down, she kept her eyes on the monitor.

Three more millilitres.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she found herself at the beach with Leonard, splashing around in the shallow water, their cool, wet bodies sliding against each other.

Two.

She was in the middle of a beautiful meadow, running around, hand in hand with Leonard, chasing a butterfly.

One.

Leonard’s face was close to hers, as they danced to a Faith Hill and Tim McGraw duet. Their arms tightly wrapped around each other, she tilted her face up towards his, moulding herself against him, as his soft lips finally found hers.

-x-x-x-x-x-

When the flatline alarm sounded throughout sickbay, McCoy was gripped by terror like he’d never been before and stormed back into Hope’s room, almost crazy with fear. For a long, horrible moment, staring at Hope’s small form lying there on the biobed, completely still and white like a sheet, lips curled in a peaceful smile, the only thought his panicking brain could come up with was ‘Sleeping Beauty’.

Then his medical mind finally kicked in.

1) Reference to the TOS episode “Journey to Babel”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Continue to: Chapters 31-35 Chapters 36-40 Chapters 41-45 Chapters 46-50 Chapters 51-55 Chapters 56-60 Chapters 61-65 Chapters 66-70 Chapter 71

Go back to: Chapters 1-5 Chapters 6-10 Chapters 11-15 Chapters 16-20 Chapters 21-25

Or read it on AO3: Another Life

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

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angioponder · 6 years ago

Text

ultimately walking

Fandom: VIXX OT6 (Platonic/Friendship) Genre/Warnings: humor, crack, fluff Word count: 1556w

author’s note: also on AO3 (@angioponder) hb to my cuppycake.<3 hope this brought a smile to your lovely face. being your best friend and roommate over the years made me so happy. thanks for letting me love you with gifts like this. i miss you lots!

list of the songs referenced are at the end. enjoy~

Hakyeon awoke due to someone beating harshly on the door of his brand new apartment. He feigned sleep in hopes that whoever was outside would leave, thinking the flat to be empty. But after a pause of silence, the banging only came back louder and harder.

A barely open, one-eyed peek at the phone he dragged out from under his pillow told him it was ten in the morning—quite a bit later than he usually got up due to all the unpacking he had to do the night before.

Wondering who it could be, he begrudgingly left the comfort of his warm bed, lugging the sheets over and around his body as he tried very hard to send messages from his brain to his foot to move in front of the other, and vice versa. At some point, it didn't really matter how he got to the door, as long as he could keep himself upright and moving forward to open the damn thing and send whoever interrupted his sleep far, far away.

When Hakyeon reached his destination, he leaned—more like ungracefully banged his forehead due to sleep deprivation—against the door to peer through the peephole. As soon as his eyes adjusted to see past the lens properly, he threw his sheets off to the side and practically ripped open the door to reveal his bandmates standing out in the hallway. Now fully awake, he was about to hug them all happily for following through with visiting him in his new home, but that died when he saw how visibly apprehensive they were.

“What? What what is it? What?” Hakyeon did a sweep across all of them really quickly.

Taekwoon was sporting coffee stains on his white sweater, Jaehwan was holding Special K under one arm and a bowl of milk in the other, Hongbin was wearing that god-awful green scarf that made him look like your gossipy neighborhood auntie, Wonshik was sleep-standing until he woke himself up with a snore, and Sanghyuk was, well, he was big. So, really nothing out of the ordinary.

Hakyeon relaxed a smidgen, crossing off the possibility of them being physically harmed in some fashion. Something was still off, but he couldn’t figure it out at the moment. He pointedly looked at Taekwoon, who was chewing on his pale fingers.

“I take it you you're not here to visit your most favorite hyung just because you realized your undying love for him and miss him very, very much ever since he moved out.”

“Well…y-yeah?”

“Oh, honestly!” Hakyeon mocked a shocked gasp, “Humor me a little bit more than that. I'm hurt.”

“Yes! I mean yes! Definitely all that—yes, yes but also,” Taekwoon glanced to his side at the other four who have a mixed array of emotions on their faces, all their lips held tight in a line. “I don’t really know what happened but,” he seemed like he was trying to come up with an explanation but settled with, “something’s wrong with them.”

“O-kay?” Hakyeon tilted his head. “Something’s always wrong with them, but I have a really bad feeling that’s not it.”

Taekwoon clapped his palm over Jaehwan's general face without missing a beat. Unsurprisingly, Wonshik did the same to Hongbin and Sanghyuk, reducing whatever retort all of them were making into muffles. When it looked like their protests directed to Hakyeon were over, Taekwoon and Wonshik retracted their hands.

“It’s not the usual thing this time just—” Taekwoon shoved them all forward towards the doorway, “we might want to be indoors for this.”

Everyone shuffled inside towards the bare living room, past the stacks of empty boxes that have been tetris-arranged inside of each other. It was a good thing too, Hakyeon thought as he watched them try to fit themselves on his couch in vain, limbs spilling over the armrests and all over the carpet on the livingroom floor of his one bedroom apartment.

“So, what’s this about?”

Nobody replied. Taekwoon nudged Hongbin with his elbow and pointed his chin towards Hakyeon. Hongbin sighed deeply then opened his mouth.

“I'm singin' in the rain,” he sang with heavy dread, “Just singin' in the rain. What a glorious feeling,” he drawled in disdain, “I'm happy again.” The whole room watched Hongbin continue his song as he dragged his body listlessly around, with a few half-hearted heel clicks here and there. By the end of his… performance of sorts, Hongbin was clenching his whole body in what one could only describe as mortifying agony. Jaehwan and Sanghyuk was, laughing at him, as is expected.

“That was… a great rendition,” Hakyeon clapped slowly, hesitantly. “So… what I got from that was Hongbin’s been practicing for a musical he got casted in, and he wants my feedback? Well, I’d say you need to fix your face a little. You look incredibly sour for someone who’s supposed to be happy after a great date with your lover.”

“No, no, you don’t get it,” Taekwoon tried, “he’s—”

“—running for his life, from Shia LaBeouf!” Wonshik launched himself off the couch and burst into song. “He’s brandishing a knife, it's Shia LaBeouf! Lurking in the shadows,” he bellowed, “Hollywood superstar Shia LaBeouf!”

“ …What? Is going on?” Hakyeon shivered as Wonshik, wide eyed and distressed, climbed on top of the coffee table and proceeded to bust out some very dramatic, interpretive dance moves. “What’s happeni—Wonshik are you biting my thigh!?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out! Ever since you left, it comes out like this whenever they try and speak as if—”

“If you were gay,” Jaehwan chimed in harmoniously, “that'd be okay. I mean 'cause, hey!” he pranced on over to Taekwoon, “I'd like you a-ny-way. Because you see,” he locked arms with him, “If it were me! I would feel free to say that I was gay, but I'm not gay!”

Taekwoon pried himself out of Jaehwan’s tight grasp and tried to cling on to Hakyeon while confetti and glitter magically rained down on them—wait what?

“They won’t respond in anything but singing and dancing,” Taekwoon said, “I even looked up their symptoms on the interne—”

“The internet is for porn!” Sanghyuk sang enthusiastically. “The internet is for porn! Why do you think the net was born? Porn! Porn! Porn!”

“You're joking, right?” Hakyeon said as Sanghyuk continued screaming porn repeatedly while holding his hands in a recitation handclasp and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet to the melody in his head. “Taekwoon, come on. This can't be serious.”

Then out of nowhere, Jaehwan, Wonshik and Hongbin—almost escalatory and frantically so—resumed singing and dancing their own respective songs on top of each other in a jumbled mess, all at the same time.

Hakyeon was starting to feel slightly delirious.

“I seriously think they're cursed or something, Hakyeon.” Taekwoon said as chaos ensued right before their eyes. “Wonshik wouldn’t be doing all of this out of his own volition, especially not Hongbin,” he commented as they watched all the self-loathing radiate from Hongbin’s body. “Though I'm not sure I can say the same for Jaehwan and Sanghyuk.”

While that seemed to be true, Hakyeon couldn't ignore the red tiredness under their swollen eyes. Maybe something actually happened, then.

“So, what now?”

“Come home,” Taekwoon said, trying not to make too much eye contact, “with us?”

With us. Hakyeon paused. Come home.

His eyes drifted next to Taekwoon, where a group photo from the night of their debut five years ago was hanging—the only decorative item on display in the whole apartment aside from his favorite family portrait.

“You think it might ‘break the curse’ they're under?”

Taekwoon looked at him with those eyes and shrugged. “Worth a try.”

Truth is, watching them take up what was once a large amount of space in his one bedroom flat made him feel almost suffocated, that is, if it he didn't adore them all so, so much. But it was a familiar, loving type of suffocating, where it was difficult to not feel loved when it surrounded him from corner to corner. Moving out was such a bittersweet thing. Hakyeon may not necessarily enjoy every single moment of living together, but he does miss them—all the time.

Real curse or not, he’d do anything for them at the end of the day. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn’t be able to leave them die in a ditch, even if he tried. And they’d do the same for him, probably.

“Fine,” Hakyeon groaned. “I'll pack enough for the weekend and go.” He stomped into his unmade bedroom, pretending to be irritated. “I must be cursed to be bonded with you all forever.”

On Sunday night, the main door of their dorm finally shut after saying goodbye for roughly an hour, leaving the living room a little colder and quieter than it was. Jaehwan, Wonshik, Hongbin and Sanghyuk turned to Taekwoon.

“Should we play pretend again so hyung will come back and stay over next weekend?”

“Or, or maybe play it up a little more so we can extend it to weekdays too?”

“No, no we might make it too obvious!”

“Hyung can be dense as a humidifier, what are you talking about?”

“Yeah, I miss him too.” Taekwoon shook his head and laughed to himself. “Now go research more musicals for next week.”

author’s note:

a wee bit late but we realized it was april fool's yesterday right before posting this ahahahaha so fitting!

Singing in the Rain by Gene Kelly Shia LaBeouf by Rob Cantor If You Were Gay by Avenue Q The Internet is for Porn by Avenue Q

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ruffsficstuffplace · 6 years ago

Text

The Viridian Vanguard (Part 13)

Note: I’ve been rereading Keeper to get a handle of where I am in this story, and I realize that Winter spoke of the escape plans and doubting being able to escape the Valley twice, and she said it in this story like she hadn’t already been doubtful of it, and spoke it here like it was for the first time. God, I really need to keep a timeline of conversations and important beats, I think.

I probably won’t, but still. Anyway, here’s the next chapter, seeing as last week was the end of AWRD.

Bee came to visit later that evening, bearing news of the Terrace’s clean-up efforts so far. Most of the minutiae was downloaded straight to Penny’s databanks with a Fae version of a data storage crystal, while Bee told Weiss and Winter a summarized account.

“… So, with the Water Quadrant indefinitely closed until further notice, and Primal Aeilana also either completely occupied with the clean-up, and with her joining the expedition for supplies and components leaving this week, we’ll all be training under the other Primals at their Quadrants for the time being.

“Generally speaking, our class will be split up into small, 2-3 folk groups, scheduled on different days of the week, in different Quadrants at once. The actual training sessions will be supervised by the Primals, or their own chosen representatives, and we won’t be required to interact or join up with any of their original students, unless it’s specifically for cross-element training.”

Bee looked up from the holo with her notes. “So, any questions, concerns, or objections?”

“Nothing from me,” Weiss said, “I’m just happy I don’t need to meet a new group of folks I might accidentally kill with my magic...”

“Just one question on my part: if I’m already considered part of Primal Aeilana’s class as you and Weiss are, does this mean I’m exempted from the initiation rite, even after she returns and the Quadrant is reopened?” Winter asked through the can.

“Yes, you can skip it,” Bee replied. “The Evoking Altar is very low on the master list of repairs and replacements, and Primal Aeilana is not willing to wait for however long it takes for it to get the greenlight, more so fixed.”

“Oh, thank Piper...”

“I wouldn’t be too relaxed if I were you, though: Primal Aeilana will figure out an alternative rite, and she’s probably already asking around for ideas as we speak.”

“Trust me, my only concern is avoiding facing a realized representation of my fear of the Keepers.” Winter replied. “Otherwise, I am good for whatever ridiculously dangerous and/or ill-advised stunt she wants me to do.”

Bee smiled, and said, “Just a bit of friendly advice: never say that in front of Primal Aeilana.”

“Duly noted.”

“And with that out of the way, it’s time for the last item on my list,” Bee said as she turned to Weiss. “Weiss, seeing as your coat, mask, gauntlet, and focus have severely damaged, and Maker Abner has just informed us today that he has no definite time frame on when he can finish repairs and upgrades, you’ll be lent stock set in the meanwhile, the same standardized gear used in the Pits.

“However, since it’s not nearly as good at controlling your power as your original gear, you’ll also be wearing a magical inhibitor for a while.”

Weiss nodded. “What does it look like?”

“There are actually very many variations of the design, but what you will likely be wearing is this,” Penny said, before projecting a holo with a picture of the device alone, and being worn on by a model.

“… Are you seriously telling me I’m going to be wearing a cone of shame?!”

“The element-proof cone will likely be considered optional, so you will only really be wearing the main body of the collar, if with additional accessories,” Penny explained.

“And what will those look like?” Weiss asked, annoyed.

Penny showed her.

“Okay, now you have got to be fucking kidding me!” Weiss snapped. “That can’t be it! That can’t possibly be it!” she wavered for a moment, and turned to Bee. “Is it…?”

“It is,” she said gravely.

“Motherfuck...” Weiss growled.

“What does it look like?” Winter asked.

“I believe the closest objects you are familiar with would be mittens and socks, similar to those worn by infants, except larger.”

Winter paused for a moment, before she sniggered.

Weiss scowled at the can.

“Sorry.”

“I would like to clarify that it’s only about a 30-27% chance that the menders will decide you require such accessories!” Penny said.

“Thanks,” Weiss grumbled, before she turned to Bee. “Anything else?”

“The same deal applies to Penny’s new body, but she’s got a loaner, too,” Bee said. “It should be arriving by the time you wake up tomorrow morning, actually! So, any questions, concerns, or objections?”

No one had any, they bid Bee farewell, and she left.

“So, after all this time, looks like we’ll finally be able to go to school together, in the same classes, huh, Weiss?” Winter said.

“And we’ll both be much older than our peers, delayed by several years, and stick out like two sore thumbs, especially since neither of us can speak fluent Actaeon yet,” Weiss added flatly.

“Yes, that’s true, but I think we should really focus on the bright side of all this, Weiss: there’s no more having to worry about Father’s ideas and opinions about the path our education and lives are supposed to take; the curriculum, classes, and projects here are going to be infinitely more interesting than anything we’ve ever had; and the skills and qualifications we can get from the Terrace are going to go a long way to improving our lives here in the Valley.”

Weiss nodded, and paused for a moment. “Hey Winter? Can we at least try and go to the Terrace on the same days and at the same time, even if we’re in different groups and at different quadrants?” Weiss asked.

“Of course, Weiss!” Winter replied. “As much as I can help it, I’ll be there right by your side. Besides, you could use the extra help if you get the cone and the mittens.”

Weiss scowled. “Oh, fuck you, Winter...”

“I love you too, Weiss, goodnight.”

“Night.” Weiss said, before Penny pulled the can out of the barrier and “hung up.”

Weiss was quiet for a moment, before she turned to Penny, and asked, “Hey Penny? When we get back to training at the Weaver’s Terrace, do you think anyone’s going to hate and/or be afraid of me because of everything that’s happened…?”

“I will be frank: there is a very high possibility of them holding very negative opinions of you, but I sincerely doubt that many of them will go through the effort and the consequences of publicly airing said opinions, especially towards you personally. Aside from the fact that you are the Keeper’s mate, the weavers strongly encourage good relations among the members of their Order: if they cannot achieve harmonious cooperation, then they should at least strive for peaceful coexistence.”

“Heh,” Weiss smiled, “seems like Feroki hasn’t gotten that part yet, has he?”

“It certainly seems that way!” Penny chirped. “Though, to be fair, he still has yet to mature into an adult, nor advance to the Adept level.”

Weiss nodded. “Thanks for that, Penny, good night,” she said, before she closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

“You are welcome, Weiss, and good night also,” Penny said, before she went into standby mode.

The next morning, Weiss was woken up by a mender, informing her that Penny was to be taken away to be installed into her loaner body, and that Weiss was to start her special physical therapy that day.

“What exactly are they going to do to me?” Weiss asked as the barrier around her bed was taken down, and she was carefully loaded into a wheelchair.

“I have been given any exact details, nor do I have time to explain all the possibilities, but I can assure you it is most definitely going to be incredibly thorough considering your condition!” Penny said as she was taken away, before she was too far away for her voice to be heard.

“What exactly are they going to do to me?” Weiss said as she looked up at the menders accompanying her.

<Sorry, Nivian no speak,> said one as he pointed at himself and his companion. <Mender in charge can, tell you when you get there.>

<Thank you,> Weiss said, before she was wheeled out of the ward and down one of the hospital’s many halls, wondering what sort of fresh hell the Valley had in store for her now...

Fifteen minutes later…

Weiss lay naked and stomach-down on a blanket on top of a flat slab of rock, completely limp and relaxed as a therapy mender massaged her, while carefully working in a series of oils, balms, and lotions into her skin. Lines of ice blue magic and many other colours glowed all over her body, flowing and moving along with the mender’s hands or on invisible paths; rippling and spreading out over her skin; or pooled up and stagnant in some places, until something forced them to flow again or dispelled them entirely.

The lights were low and warm; a bowl of incense, herbs, and oils burned beside Weiss and produced a sweet, relaxing smoke; the wall of enchanted air gently swirling around them kept all the other scents and sounds around them out, the temperature at just the right range for Weiss’ comfort.

<How are you feeling, Weaver Schnee?> her mender asked.

Weiss gave an incoherent, burbling sound of pleasure and satisfaction.

The mender giggled. <I would take that as a ‘I am feeling quite well, thank you.’>

The rest of her treatment proceeded like a luxurious spa day: more specific treatments for her hands and feet that happened to include a manicure-pedicure; a facial with some mildly hallucinogenic (but incredibly pleasant) aromatherapy involved; a stroll through the hospital’s vibrant and expansive garden to get some sun, fresh air, and enjoy the greenery; until it ended with a special breakfast outdoors, along with some tonics and medication.

What parts of the menu and items on her prescription that were less than pleasant to take were vastly outnumbered by the ones Weiss happily took her sweet time savouring. She largely ignored the other patients around her and they did the same, until Jaune happened to be as set down on the free space beside her.

“Morning, Jaune!” Weiss chipred, figuratively and literally glowing from the leftover traces of mana dancing on her skin. “Fruit? I don’t know what it is yet, but it’s certainly fresh and delicious!” she said, extending her plate filled with bite-sized, artfully cut chunks.

“I’ll pass...” Jaune moaned, slouching over the table with his arms resting on it.

“Still reeling from your head injury?” Weiss asked sympathetically.

“No, well, kinda, but it’s not really—“ Jaune sighed, took a deep breath, then said, “I just got back from a really intense massage...”

“You did? I can’t imagine why you look so down right now, mine was incredible!” Weiss said, before she popped another bite into her mouth.

“Eh, I think it’s because we’re different, uh, what is it, ‘alignments’ or something?” Jaune replied. “They said that since I was earth, and because I apparently wasn’t massaged enough or properly for a few years, they said they needed to use a really firm hand.”

Weiss swallowed, and asked, “How firm are we talking about exactly...?”

Twenty minutes earlier...

Jaune screamed as an incredibly large and muscular therapy mender-weaver slowly ran his massive hands over Jaune’s body, magical ripples glowing on his skin, shaking him like a miniature, localized earthquake. “Ilias, so much tension! So many knots! So many disrupted flows!” his mender bellowed over Jaune’s whimpering. “No wonder your body is in such poor condition, Mr. Arc!”

Jaune burst into a fresh round of tears. “Please, make it stop!”

“We will, we will!” the mender said as he started to move into more powerful kneading, intenser pulses of earth magic. “Trust me, Mr. Arc: by the time you’re out of this hospital, you will feel like a new man!” he continued as he grabbed one of Jaune’s legs, and gently bent it.

“AAAGH!”

“You will find all your old pains and aches have disappeared, especially those you never knew were there!” he began to slowly stretch it out again.

“AAA-HAAAH-HAAAH…!”

“Then, then you will see the true peaks of your power, the true capabilities of your body!”

Jaune’s mender exploded into boisterous laughter as Jaune quietly sobbed and whimpered.

“… Yeah, that does sound a LOT more unpleasant than what I went through...” Weiss said quietly. “Did it work, at least?”

“Yeah...” Jaune falling forward and letting his head hit the table. “Still gonna be sore for a while, though...”

“There, there, Jaune: I predict a high chance that your condition will begin to rapidly improve in the near future, both physically and in general,” Penny said as she came up to them.

Weiss turned to her, and gasped, her eyes widening. “Penny! You’re back! And oh my gosh, you look so adorable!”

Penny giggled as she flew in front of them, her core was now housed in a human-style flying drone with part of her original ears and tail attached, the custom covering making her look like a round, soft, flying mouse plushie with brilliant green eyes. “Maker Abner thought it necessary that my loaner body look as aesthetically pleasing, nonthreatening, and friendly as possible.”

“Well I certainly approve,” Weiss said. “Can I touch you?”

“Go right ahead,” Penny said, “this body was designed for it.”

“Thanks!” Weiss said as she reached out and started touching Penny. “Oh, wow, did this cover come from the Plushie Palace?”

“Yes it did!” Penny repiled. “Almost 100% Viridian Valley Sheep Wool, with some necessary additives! And speaking of the Palace, a representative from them actually wishes to see you quite urgently.”

“Why the rush?” Weiss asked as she pulled her hand back.

“It’s about the terms of repayment for your loan to them, from their buying your debt from the Trader’s Guild and returning your collateral, Winter’s Eluna Plushie.” Penny replied.

“Oh, that, right!” Weiss said, nodding. “I completely forgot about it, so much has happened since then… anyway, can it really not wait? I’m really enjoying myself right now...” she said, gesturing to her breakfast.

“I can understand the sentiment, Weiss, and under other circumstances, I would have encouraged the Palace to please return on another, more convenient date for you, but it really would be prudent to assess this matter as soon as possible.”

“Is it really that serious?” Weiss asked, her body’s glow fading slightly.

“Well, I don’t mean to alarm you, Weiss, but if we don’t come up with a solid plan to make the first payment within the next two weeks, and all future payments after that, there is a very high chance we will default, and have to face legal and economic repercussions that will effectively render us bankrupt for the next five-ten years.”

Weiss blinked. “… I’m sorry, say what again…?”

#white rose #the viridian vanguard #rwby #fanfic

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