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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

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All Men Have Limits - X

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,100+

Previously on…

The next three days were one of the darkest periods of Dick Grayson’s life.

He was thrown back into the past to the moments after his parents were murdered. This felt the same but somehow worse. Because he was convinced he had the power to stop it, to keep Y/N safe.

Why did everyone he love have to die?

Was he cursed?

Was he responsible for their deaths?

He hadn’t even been able to tell Y/N how he really felt. He’d been holding back all this time, terrified that his truth would just push her away and make her decide to close off from him.

Now Dick wished he could go back in time and confess everything to her. If she had pushed him away, he would found his way back to her somehow. He sees that now – now that it’s too late.

He looked at Y/N sleeping peacefully in her bed at the manor.

Is it a miracle if conjuring was used to fight back at fate?

Dick doesn’t even remember what he said when he contacted Zatanna. He must’ve sounded hysterical and utterly desperate. His vision had been blurred from the tears he couldn’t control.

He already blacked the whole thing out.

Zatanna told them that Y/N would sleep for a few days. Even if her magic saved her life and Y/N wouldn’t even have a scar to prove she had died, her body was still exhausted from the trauma of it all.

But even with Zatanna’s reassurance, Dick hadn’t left Y/N’s side, absolutely terrified that she was still in danger, that she could still leave them forever.

When Y/N started to shift, Dick sat up straighter in the chair that he’d pulled close to her bed.

Y/N winced before her eyes fluttered open.

Dick didn’t want to overwhelm her, so he just waited for her to fully wake up.

Y/N seemed confused when she realized that she was back in her room at the manor.

Then her gaze moved to Dick.

“Bruce, is he–”

“He’s fine,” Dick cut her off before she could get herself into a panic.

Her entire body relaxed and she let out the breath she was holding in without realizing it.

“He has a concussion and he’s a little beat up. But he’s had worse,” Dick elaborated.

She raised a brow. “You tend to say that a lot.”

Dick shrugged.

But it was true: Bruce had been in much worse condition.

“You saved his life, Y/N.”

She seemed uncomfortable hearing that and didn’t meet his gaze.

“I did what anyone would’ve done,” Y/N mumbled.

“Not everyone would be that brave.”

A silence settled between them for a few moments.

“How am I here?” Y/N finally asked Dick quietly.

But they both knew she was really asking, ‘How am I alive?’

“I’m not sure you really want to know all the details…” Dick had been dreading this conversation.

“I’m assuming you called in another favor with your magic friend,” Y/N thought aloud.

“Zatanna,” Dick confirmed. “And, yes. Something like that.”

Y/N gave him a look that told him she wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

“She used a spell that reversed your injuries. She…” Dick had to pause and clear his throat and get rid of his emotions that were threatening to spill. “She used your blood to write a spell, making it far stronger than most she’s cast. It saved your life.”

Y/N watched him for a moment.

“That must’ve been scary,” she whispered, truly understanding what she had put him through.

She simply could not imagine had it been the other way around. The idea of watching Dick die was something she hoped to never live through.

“He hadn’t left your side until Alfred basically secretly drugged him and scared him to get his own bedroom.”

Y/N moved to get out of bed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dick panicked as she stood up to stop her.

“I feel…” she thought about it for a moment.

“Like you were stabbed to death?” Dick offered darkly.

“No. I feel…I feel fine.”

He could tell she was telling the truth.

“Perks of magically being healed?” She offered innocently.

“Guess so.”

She moved out of the bed and realized she was wearing cotton shorts and a baggy t-shirt that she most definitely didn’t die in.

What had happened while she was asleep? How long was she dead?

Y/N went to the window and looked out at the grounds of Wayne Manor.

“What happened when the cops showed up?” She asked quietly, almost in a daze.

“You’d have to ask Tim for details. I was preoccupied with…” Dick’s words died out.

Y/N turned away from the window to look at him.

She may have survived, but that was never going to make talking about that night any easier for him.

Luckily, she understood what Dick couldn’t put into words.

Dick took in a deep breath and crossed his arms, “We got them, Y/N.”

It almost seemed to good to be true. They’d been at this for months. It took them weeks just to plan their final blow.

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be to believe that it was truly over.

It didn’t help that there was no returning to her old life. Too much had changed.

“With the evidence you gave the FBI, there’s not a lawyer in the world that can save them. Even if a member’s hands aren’t dirty, the public shame will be enough to neutralize them for good,” Dick added with a bit of optimism.

But he could tell by Y/N’s face that she was having trouble accepting the truth.

He took a step toward her.

“If there’s members of The Court that slipped out from underneath us, if any of them try to come after you, it’ll just prove to the world that The Court of Owls is still operating. And exposing that will be the last thing they’ll want.”

She tried to force a small smile and nod, but it was unconvincing.

Dick closed the space between them and grabbed her hands.

“Y/N, you did it.”

“It’s really over,” she whispered, staring into his deep blue eyes.

He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded.

Then Dick’s focus shifted. He looked her up and down. “Y/N, you should really get some rest. You’ve been through a lot.”

Y/N sighed. “I think I’m gonna take a shower.” She smirked, “Get all that death off me.”

Dick frowned. “Not funny.”

“Jason would think it’s funny,” Y/N teased as she walked to the bathroom.

He playfully glared at her. “I’ll give you some space. But I’ll be down in the cave if you need me.”

Dick only got a few steps before Y/N called his name as if she’d forgotten something and rushed to him.

He looked at her expectantly.

Y/N stepped forward and locked her arms around Dick and buried her face into his shoulder. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as his hands rubbed her back soothingly and he pulled her closer.

Dick wanted to tell Y/N that she didn’t have to thank him. He saved her life and he would do it again and again and again, and he would never expect gratitude for it. Because Dick knew that it was just as much for him as it was for her.

So instead he just held her in silence and felt the warmth from her body – the same body that had been ice cold and lifeless just days before.

When they finally pulled away, Dick was studying her face to make sure she was alright to be left alone.

He gave her one last look before leaving her.

Y/N took her time in the shower, making the water as hot as her skin would allow without giving it burns. There wasn’t a single bruise or cut on her. Her fingers traced over the place on her abdomen where the katana had been shoved through.

There was nothing.

She wondered if there was a price to pay for such magic. Would she be held accountable? Or would it be Dick’s friend who faced the consequences?

Y/N didn’t know how long she’d been showering, but when she finally walked out, the bathroom was filled with too much steam.

She quickly put on sweatpants and a t-shirt when her stomach started growling. She couldn’t even remember when her last meal had been.

Y/N moved to her door after deciding that going straight to the kitchen was quite necessary.

But she stopped as she heard footsteps walking past her room in the hall.

She froze, thinking it was Bruce.

What would she say to him? Would he be angry with her? Would he not react at all to her resurrection? What would hurt her more between the two?

But it wasn’t Bruce.

Tim and Damian were walking down the hallway.

“How much longer do you think he’ll stay?” She heard Damian ask.

“I don’t know. I heard the Titans have been bugging him to come back,” Tim answered. “I’m sure Kori misses him and has been texting.”

Damian just hummed in acknowledgment.

Y/N realized her hand was suspended over the doorknob.

And she had a realization: she was safe to leave.

But more importantly, she wasn’t the only one that could return to their “normal” life: so could Dick, so could everyone else in the family.

Soon, Tim would go back to his condo in the city. Jason would stop working so closely with the family he tried to disown and he’d probably stop coming around manor so often – if ever. And Bruce…Bruce would move on to new cases and return to the usual patrolling.

Y/N turned and looked at the bedroom that had become her new home in the past few months. Her personality was nowhere to be found inside. It wasn't actually hers. She was just one of its many visitors.

Y/N grabbed her duffle bag from underneath the queen-sized bed and started throwing her belongings into it.

Ten minutes later, Y/N had her jacket and shows on, and all of her belongings were packed in her bag.

She still had to deal with all her equipment that was sitting in the cave. But that was a problem for another day. Right now, she didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with it. She needed to leave – before she changed her mind.

Y/N was just yards from the front door when she heard his voice.

“Y/N?” Dick asked just loud enough to catch her.

She froze in place.

While her back was still to him, she closed her eyes in grievance from the failure of being spotted.

She slowly turned around.

“You trying to sneak out of here?” Dick asked.

It was meant to sound teasing, but she heard his disappointment loud and clear.

“It’s about time I get out of your hair.”

“We’re not exactly kicking you out…” Dick tried to joke.

“You said so yourself: it’s safe for me now.” She sighed and walked closer to him. “Look, I just…I need some time alone.”

Dick took it a bit too personally. Were they really that exhausting to be around? He thought she had started to see them as her own family. He thought things were OK.

“At least let me drive you,” he offered quietly.

“I called a cab. It’s waiting for me outside.”

Before Dick could say anything else, she quickly turned and made her escape.

Y/N knew what she was scared of. She was scared he’d tell her he was leaving Gotham now that the case had been solved. But she was even more scared that he’d tell her he was staying.

She wasn’t ready to deal with either scenario.

So, Y/N did what she did best: she ran.

————————

Y/N stared at the wall of her safe house.

The silence that she had once grown used to long ago was now irritating.

Y/N hadn’t realized how accustomed she had become to the chaos of Wayne Manor until she had torn herself away from it. Even when it was quiet there, she could feel the presence of everyone.

Now she was left only to her thoughts.

And just she was about to escape the silence and go grab food at a nearby diner, there was a knock on the door.

Y/N knew for a fact that this safe-house hadn’t be blown yet – and that included with the Wayne family. It was exactly why she chose to come here instead of the one where Bruce first found her and dragged her to Wayne Manor for her own safety.

Which was why Y/N grabbed one of her guns and checked to make sure it was loaded and the safety was off before she tiptoed to the door.

She looked through the peep hole and her stomach twisted when she saw Bruce Wayne was on the other side.

She knew he could sense her presence on the other side, and there was no hiding. So she opened the door quickly.

Bruce eyed the gun in her hand. “This has become a habit of yours.”

Y/N ignored his comment, uncocked the gun, and carefully placed it on a table near the door.

When she was finally able to take Bruce in, she noted that his face was covered in bruises and small cuts. To be honest, Y/N expected more damage after being a witness to his near-death beating.

“May I come in?” Bruce asked softly.

She blinked rapidly, realizing she had yet to invite him inside.

This was all reminiscent of that night.

And Y/N didn’t appreciate the memories and feelings Bruce was stirring up.

An awkward silence settled between them. The silence of her apartment was doing nothing to help.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N knew the question was sincere, but Bruce still managed to ask it without showing any ounce of emotion – as if he wasn’t personally invested in the matter.

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly. Her eyes softened. “Are you okay?”

He simply nodded.

Silence again.

“You can never do that again,” Bruce declared.

“Do what?”

“You risked your life to save mine. The boys refused to tell me what happened, but I saw the footage. You threw yourself in front of me.”

Y/N remained calm as she said, “You did the same for me.”

Bruce shook his head. Because they both knew it wasn’t the same thing.

The truth was that Bruce woke up to find Dick crying over Y/N’s dead body. And then a few minutes he had watched as Dick begged Zatanna to help him.

And Bruce? Bruce had been unconscious when Y/N had needed him the most.

He had protected her all these months – with his own family and his own home – just to be useless in her final moment of need.

When Bruce finally woke up recovered to find out that Y/N had fled the manor, he knew he needed to go to her. He needed to make sure she never did something so stupid as risking her life to save him.

But now Bruce stood before her and he knew he needed to tell her so much more than just that.

“What are you doing here, Bruce? Did you just plan on lecturing me again?”

But Bruce wasn’t realized he couldn’t use any words tonight.

Ever so slowly, he stepped into her space, putting less and less space between their bodies. Y/N could feel the heat coming from him. And she sucked in a gasp from his proximity. She breathed in his cologne that she’d grown to love so much that it instantly relaxed her.

Her heart beat faster and faster as his eyes shifted down to her lips, hesitating in a way that was excruciating to Y/N. But it gave her time to resist, to allow her to shut this down before it could continue.

But Y/N didn’t want to do that.

Bruce brushed her hair away from her face, then his hands shifted slightly to cup her face. His touch wasn’t soft, but insistent.

He pressed his lips to Y/Ns. Brisk and determined.

The tension finally snapped and pushed them to a passionate kiss that was long overdo.

Was this only going to cause them both more pain in the future?

Or was this what they should’ve done long ago?

Bruce pushed Y/N against a wall.

And then everything became a blur.

Bruce picked Y/N up and wrapped her legs around his waist for her, silently instructing her.

Clothes were unzipped and unbuttoned, and thrown around the apartment without thought.

Their breathing was heavy and reactive to the way their hands raced across each other’s now naked skin.

For never being at this particular safe house, Bruce found his way to the bed with ease.

From the movement of their bodies and obvious desire for one another, one thing became clear: they were never meant to only share one night together.

————

Y/N had tried with all her might to stay awake – even if that meant pulling an all-nighter.

She was trying to break the pattern. And even though Bruce had exhausted her body to no end, she didn’t want to wake up to find his side of the bed empty.

But she was shocked to open her eyes and find not only that Bruce was still in her bed, but that she had been sleeping on his bare chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Y/N could feel that he was awake. Apparently he was much more disciplined than her.

Little did she know Bruce hadn’t slept at all, not wanting to miss the feeling of her against him.

Y/N slowly lifted her head, “Hi.”

He smirked at the sleepiness in her voice.

“Hi."

“Didn’t expect you to be here still,” she admitted quietly.

“I can leave if you want.” And he meant it, even though it would hurt.

“No,” she scolded him in a breathy gasp.

The tension in his body released.

Y/N shifted off of his chest

“And where do you think you’re going?” Bruce questioned.

She shifted so she was no longer resting on his chest, but laying on her side beside him so she could see his face.

“I just wanted to look at you,” she whispered innocently.

Bruce smirked at her answer.

Y/N made sure the bed sheet was successfully covering her nudity.

Bruce seemed amused with her sudden modesty, but said nothing of it.

“How did you find me here?” Y/N asked him.

It had been the first thing she’d wanted to ask when he showed up to her door last night. But Bruce hadn’t exactly given her a lot of space to speak last night.

Bruce’s jaw tightened, which was a message in its own.

“Bruceeeee,” Y/N pushed back with irritation.

“You aren’t going to like the answer.”

She glared at him. “Did you put a fucking tracker on me, Bruce Wayne?”

“Your phone.”

“When?” She asked.

“After you tried to turn yourself in to the Talons.”

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed by the answer.

They both knew she could easily disable it now that she knew about it. Even if he hadn’t confessed it, she would’ve figured it out on her own eventually.

“You’re upset,” Bruce observed.

“How would you feel if I did the same to you? But it’s…you. And I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Need I remind you that we only met because you blackmailed me and threatened to expose my identity to the world?”

“You know that wasn’t the same,” she shot back as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re right.” Bruce sighed. “I promise I will deactivate it.”

“No,” Y/N surprised him by saying. “But I will make you a deal…you can always know where I am if I can know the same for you.”

Bruce knew this was a test. Because Y/N expected him to immediately shoot down such an offer. Couldn’t such information be used against Batman?

“Deal,” he agreed.

Y/N was so shocked by his compliance that her overwhelming emotions forced her to lean into him and capture his lips in a kiss.

“Should I make us breakfast?” She whispered to him after barely pulling away from his lips.

She lightly bumped her nose against his.

Bruce nodded with a grin.

But before Y/N could ask what he wanted, a knock at the door interrupted them.

Her heart raced at the thought of another intrusion – and a less welcomed one.

Bruce frowned, but remained calm.

“Stay here,” he warned before placing a light kiss on her bare shoulder.

Before she could argue, he slipped out of bed.

He put his boxer briefs on, but didn’t bother with a shirt or pants.

Even though Bruce told Y/N to stay put, she still figured a mysterious knock on the door was a sign to put clothes on.

She practically threw on her underwear, but couldn’t find a single piece of clothing she had on yesterday. Yet somehow she found Bruce’s white button down and quickly buttoned on to give herself some semblance of decency.

Bruce looked through the peephole.

He held his breath.

Bruce would’ve rather it been an attempted attack on Y/N than…this.

“Y/N, I know you’re there,” Dick called from the other side of the door.

Bruce knew she couldn’t hear him. But he knew there was no other choice than to open the door.

Bruce looked apathetic as he faced his first protégé.

But Dick knew Bruce well enough to see that there was guilt hidden underneath.

He took in Bruce’s attire – or really, the lack there of.

Dick huffed out a laugh, “Of course. I should’ve known better.”

He shook his head and turned to leave.

Bruce slammed the door shut and rubbed his face in distress.

Before he could even think of something to say to Y/N, she rushed past him and threw the door open again.

“Dick! Wait!” Y/N called to him and caught him in the hallway.

By some miracle, Dick stopped and turned to her.

He looked her up and down, lingering far too long on the white button down she was wearing that so clearly belonged to Bruce.

“Needed some time alone, huh?”

Throwing Y/N’s own words back at her was meant to come out harsh and cold. But it ended up sounding heartbroken and betrayed.

And, honestly, that was worse to Y/N.

She have any idea what to say to him.

What would even make him feel better?

So, Y/N just watched Dick slowly walk away.

She stepped back into the safe house with tears in her eyes.

Bruce immediately moved to her.

“Y/N–”

But Y/N shook her head, stopping him from saying anything more.

“I should go,” Bruce told her.

He couldn’t help himself as he reached to wipe her tears away.

“I should probably give you your shirt back,” she said between sniffles.

Had the situation been different, it would’ve sounded funny.

But there was no humor here.

Bruce’s innocent touch of wiping her tears away made it hard for Y/N to concentrate.

So she escaped into the bedroom and quickly changed into her own clothes.

When she walked back out, she had all of Bruce’s stuff in her arms.

Once Bruce was in his clothes again, he didn’t know what to do or say next.

It was hard for Bruce to leave Y/N when she was so visibly upset. Dick wasn’t here to make Y/N feel better this time...and that was all Bruce’s fault.

“I’m not used to saying bye to you,” Y/N finally broke the tension.

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

A sad look flashed across her face as she processed her thoughts. “Usually I wake up…and you’re gone. You don’t even give me a chance to.”

Bruce bowed his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have done that to you,” he finally admitted to her.

Y/N nodded slowly, agreeing with him.

“But you did,” she whispered.

Her voice sounded congested from all the tears she just shed.

“And all this time, I let myself think it was OK or even that I was the one who had messed it all up.”

Bruce quickly shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N.”

Her eyes darkened. “Why did you have to make it so hard to stay away from you, Bruce?”

An he knew he deserved that. “I’ve been selfish,” he confessed.

Bruce hesitated before giving her a slow kiss on the cheek.

It was the first time Y/N had ever seen him unsure of himself.

Without saying anything more, he turned and left.

“Goodbye, Bruce.” Y/N whispered long after he could still hear her.

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Part XI

Did I ruin your life? Let me know 😂

#all men have limits part 10 #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader x bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader x dick grayson #batboys #batfam #dick grayson reader insert #bruce wayne reader insert #nightwing x reader #batman x reader

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loupettes · 3 years ago

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Some Ten/Rose domestic fluff for the DoctorRose Fic Marathon, mostly to soothe my mental health but who doesn’t need more Ten/Rose in their lives?

T W E N T Y O N E

SUMMARY: Ten/Rose. It's Rose's twenty-first birthday, and she's invited the Doctor along to a party thrown by her mum. A night of pub celebrations, boisterous friends and family gatherings, quizzes, a little bit of jealousy and some hard truths ahead, the Doctor must grit and bear the domesticity for his best friend — well, the love of his life. If only there was something to make it worthwhile..

TAGS: fluff, domestic, romance, jealousy, pub quizzes, everyone loves Rose Tyler (the Doctor being top of that list), mutual pining, longing, etc etc

Read on AO3: twenty one

***

“See you’ve found a way to pass the time,” she muttered once Laura was out of earshot, slipping her arm out from his and grabbing the napkin from the bar. She looked at it distacefully for a moment, before she passed the napkin to him.

“Enduring terrible flirting and being come on to is just one of the many things I’m voluntarily subjecting myself to to be here with you tonight.”

“How hard that must be for you.”

He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, she seemed irritated, and when Laura put the drink in front of her and begrudgingly took the tenner from the Doctor, Rose seemed to only sadden as she swirled her straw around in her drink.

“Just didn’t think you were interested in this sort of stuff, s’all,” she shrugged.

He frowned; he assumed she must have meant flirting. “I’m not.”

Rose looked at her drink for a moment, a pinch in her brow that he couldn’t translate. It wasn’t indifference, it wasn’t even the irritation she was projecting on her voice, but he wasn’t fond of it, he knew that much.

“Only got eyes for you, promise.”

***

It was one of those days, the ones he hadn’t really ever had to subject himself to in his many years of life, and he calls them ‘obligatory domestics’. The kinds of days where he needs to drop Rose off so she can do a bit of ‘life admin’: check in on her grandparents, nip to primark to get some basics, cash her birthday cheques, all that sort of stuff.

And then, of course, there were the days he needed to attend parties.

Now, he wasn’t a party person. Awkward small talk, terrible music — depending on the decade, of course — dreadful finger food, that annoying needless obligation to stay and ‘enjoy yourself’ when all you really wanted to do was leave. This was one of those days where Rose had a party to attend, and had asked him to just drop her off back at home for the night and they could get back to travelling the next day.

The problem was, it was her birthday party.

Now, if it were his birthday — if he even had a birthday — then he wouldn’t exactly call it a mark for celebration. Not even at the turn of a new century, and he most certainly wouldn’t call turning a thousand a celebration, which he was sure was coming up soon. And the funny thing was, Rose didn’t feel the need to celebrate birthdays, either. Well, unless they were somebody else’s; she would go out of her way to make that day astronomically special for them. So when she had turned to him last week, when they were out enjoying a milkshake in a diner on Panvorix, and told him, regrettably, that her mum wanted to throw her a birthday party with her friends and family for her twenty-first, which he was sure meant something to humans, he wondered whether he really needed to be there.

But, and this is where he finds it difficult: he somehow knew she wanted him there. She hadn’t explicitly said so, she had just sort of shrugged and said ‘you can come, too, although I doubt you’ll want to’. But other than that, she had talked about it as though she was going to go, not they. And if he only paid attention to her words and what she was saying, like he thought most humans — and, well, every other species in existence — did, then he would have felt no obligation whatsoever to join her. But these humans, and especially the British, have this odd sort of way of communicating where they would say one thing with words but also without them, and usually, the things they weren’t saying was quite different to the things that they were. And it seemed as though this was the case with Rose. Her lack of eye contact, the slight reddening in her neck, the indifference that he just knew wasn’t as indifferent as she would have liked it to be. She’d slurped her milkshake and changed the subject and that was that — no need to dwell. But once she had gone to bed that night, he wondered. He tinkered away in the control room and tried to interpret all those little things and he just couldn’t, so he gave up and decided to take her for her word. So he told himself, if she brings it up again, if she asks-but-doesn’t-ask him to come, then he’ll go with her. Otherwise, he’ll leave her with her mum for the night and come back for her the next day as she asked.

That was until Jackie called.

“You’re coming,” she had said flatly, and she had said it in such a frighteningly threatening way that he only nodded and agreed.

Rose had seemed most happy when he had said they were getting to her mum’s for midday on Saturday. She had quickly tried to hide it, and once more he got the impression that she was only acting nonchalant. But he wasn't quite sure, so he double checked just to be safe.

“You sure you want me there?”

She had frowned, and again shrugged without looking at him. “Course, you’re my best mate.”

And so here he was. Waiting in the control room for her, in a blue suit this time, while she packed her things in an overnight bag.

Today was her actual birthday. Her mum had called her all excited, wishing her a happy birthday — even though she was about to see her in a couple of hours. The Doctor had made her a cup of tea and said happy birthday, too, but Rose’s cheeks had flushed pink and he took that to mean that was enough making-a-fuss over her birthday for the day. Other than that, he hadn’t seen her all morning, and so when she entered the control room freshly showered and now in her jeans and a hoodie, her backpack slung over her shoulders, she grinned quite sheepishly and said,

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he echoed, a little less nervously. “All packed and ready, then?”

“I am indeed,” she nodded, and skipped over to him with a bit more gusto. “You mentally prepared?”

‘Oh, absolutely not.”

“Me neither,” she chuckled, and tugged on his arm. “You didn’t see mum on my eighteenth — she gets several octaves higher, just to warn you.”

He shuddered. “Well, lucky for you— and me, I suppose— my capacity to detect high pitches gets less and less with each passing century.”

“That’s good to know.”

After they had gone to Nando’s for lunch, Jackie had asked the Doctor to join her and help set up at the pub while Rose got ready back at the flat with a couple of her mates. He hadn’t been in love with the idea — a few hours alone with Jackie filling him in on the gossip of somebody called ‘Bev’ while various 90s pop songs echoed through the room, that was — and she certainly did like to talk when she was excited. They had pinned a few ‘Happy 21st Birthday!’ banners around the room, chucked a lot of small plastic ‘21’s across the floor and the bar, and, by the time Rose called to say she was on her way, the room had filled with quite a lot of people indeed. Some family members he was sure he had met before, little kids of cousins he definitely hadn’t, and a few of Rose’s friends who seemed to know her family quite well. It was the first time that day he had sort of warmed, seeing that Rose had grown up with such a loving group of friends and extended family, and he even loosened just a little as he chatted to a few while they waited for Rose to turn up.

“Everybody, she’s at the bottom of the road!” Jackie called out loudly, when she received a text from Shareen. At that, people picked up nearby birthday poppers and whistles, getting to their feet with excited and anticipatory smiles — the Doctor even had a confetti cannon himself ready to go for when she walked in.

But of course, when she did walk in, he couldn’t do anything at all except look at her.

As people called out excited ‘happy birthday!'s and set off their poppers, the Doctor found himself completely anchored to the spot while the room only burst with colour and into life. He had always found her quite beautiful, especially when she was giggling away or saying something particularly clever, and he had even found himself breathless once or twice to watch her. But tonight, goodness — he wasn’t convinced he had two bloody hearts because neither one was beating and certainly neither of them were supplying oxygen to the rest of his body.

It was her smile, without a doubt. It was different somehow, like an old smile he was sure she must have used before she met him, to see all these familiar faces of her loved ones. That, and her cheeks were dusted a delightful pink, a little shy he knew she must have been to have so many people around her for her. Her hair was wavy for once, and she wore a black dress that the Doctor was momentarily ashamed to find himself looking at; the way it sculpted her curves and defined the most enchanting silhouette, cut mid-thigh and exposing her legs — and he was especially ashamed for his gaze to linger on those, but she was simply so exquisite, everywhere, that he soon felt instead the same overwhelming awe he gets when he studies a painting, ones in which the colours tell a compelling story and the shapes express feelings that words could not completely.

He still hadn’t managed to find his breath by the time she caught his eye, and he found himself desperately trying to cling to coherent thoughts when she nervously made her way over to him.

“Hello,” she said again when she got to him, pausing for a moment before she reached up on her toes to give him a hug. He had just enough semblance of normality to return the gesture, albeit weakly — still trying to process his thoughts as he was.

Tell her!

“Happy birthday,” he whispered instead, and he heard her giggle by his ear before she released him, and there was a moment where he could have told her just how breathtaking she looked, but of course, he didn’t.

Instead, she scratched her arm and looked around the room. “Thanks for helping mum set all this up.”

“Oh, right—” he cleared his throat “— sure, no probs.”

“You’ll have to fill me in on all the gossip later.”

“Don’t worry, I took notes.”

She chuckled, and her eyes softened as she looked at him, taking him in, and they seemed to even darken somehow, which sent an odd sort of sense of affirmation through him — he was right not to shave today, then.

“Listen, er—” she began, her brow creasing in awkwardness, and she started scratching her arm again. He watched her curiously, wondering what she was about to say and feeling strangely nervous, all of a sudden. “Please don’t — I mean, thank you for coming, it— I just wanted to say please don’t stay, if you don’t want to— if you’re feeling awkward or anything just feel free to, you know—”

“Rose, it’s alright,” he grinned, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be alright.”

“I know, I just didn’t want the last of the Time Lords to perish here in this pub in Southwark out of boredom.”

“Yeah, would be a dreadful end to their race I must admit.”

“Not one for the textbooks,” she giggled. “Nor one I’d particularly like on my conscience, either.”

“Blimey, you’re right — lot riding on the entertainment this evening, then.”

“Well in that case, I should remind you that mum planned this party.”

“Oh,” he groaned, and sighed defeatedly while she only continued to chuckle. “It’s just a couple of hours. I can do it.”

He sort of regretted saying that. Well, no, he definitely regretted saying that.

He’d spent the first hour or so meeting Rose’s family, and then after that getting to know five or six of Rose’s friends, sat around in a booth. They were all friendly enough, inviting him in as one of their own and of course, he thought, Rose’s friends would be charming, since they were Rose’s friends after all.

And then there was Callum, he thinks his name was, and at first the Doctor was able to maintain a calm composure despite his irritability when the lad put his arm around Rose, but after twenty minutes or so and he still hadn’t moved, the Doctor started to sincerely regret his decision to come here tonight and wondered whether he could quietly slip away and narrowly avoid some other, less painful end. But then Rose would give him that look, that smile that just seemed to settle him if only for the fact that it was hers. And so he stayed, listening to stories of their school days and joining in with their laughter until it became just a little too much, when Callum started whispering things to Rose when nobody else was paying attention. Rose didn’t seem particularly bothered by him, nor was she giving off any signs that she was uncomfortable, but he certainly seemed to have more of an agenda than she, and just enough that it pissed the Doctor off enough for him to excuse himself to get a drink instead.

“Just a Coke, thanks,” he said as he reached the bar, but the bartender looked back at him apologetically.

“Pepsi alright?” she said.

His shoulders slumped in disappointment because why would he want a Pepsi if he was ordering a Coke—

“Just kidding,” she grinned, reaching down for a glass and picking up a glass bottle of Coke. “Wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Oh,” he only half smiled, and loosened his tie just a little to finally just be able to breathe. “Well, that’s a relief.”

“You look like you could use something stronger, though.”

“Do I?” he frowned, somewhat surprised but not entirely that he must look exhausted to others. It was exhausting, realising that he was far too in love for his own good. But the bartender didn’t look like she thought that, not at all, as she grinned over to him.

“Parties don’t really seem like your sort of thing.”

He shook his head, resting his elbows on the bar. “No, not really.”

“So what is your thing, then?”

Earth wasn’t quite ready for the question to be answered with ‘time travel, mostly’, so he flustered a little in search of an answer more reasonable for the time period. “I tried soap carving, once. That was fun.”

She looked back at him completely confused for a moment, and he only added the admission to the long list of things he was regretting about this evening, before she gave him a friendly smile.

“Not something I would have expected you to say.”

When the Doctor only shook his head in hopeless exasperation, she grinned,

“I’m Laura, by the way.”

“John,” he retorted, as she placed the Coke in front of him.

“Nice to meet you John — this one’s on me.”

It took him a second to realise she had just bought him a drink — of Coke — but a common gesture nonetheless he was sure indicated flirting. “Oh— er, thanks.”

She nodded, but didn’t turn to serve any of the other guests, not that it was all that busy up at the bar, anyway. “So, John. Did you, er, come here with anyone tonight?”

As dreadful to admit as it was, he couldn’t say that he had. And it seemed so odd to him to think about, because he went everywhere with Rose, but he had never been anywhere with her. It wasn’t really something he had ever considered, whether he would like to start going places with Rose as his and he as hers, but now, as he thought about Rose with that slimy little git behind him, he rather wished that he didn’t have to fret. Not about the dreadful moment she tells him tonight that she’s going back to Callum's, and not about any other time in the future she would admit to having fallen in love with somebody else. It wasn’t a possessive thing, he didn’t want for nobody else to want her because she was his, but he wanted to just love her and be free to; no more of this pining and hiding and instead just be able to say that he was so terribly in love with her and that wasn’t going to change, no matter how much he wanted it to. Except he highly doubted she would want that, this nine-bloody-hundred-year-old alien who had murdered and cowered to be hopelessly devoted to her when she didn’t exactly ask for it. So, he swallowed, feeling his hearts sink in defeat as he did.

“No. Just me.”

Laura’s lips curled in triumph, and she leant in a little bit closer. “In that case, what are you doing tonight?”

If he was just that little bit less in love, he might have been tempted, he had to admit. But he was far beyond the point now of needing a distraction to this dreadful torment, he was much too in love with Rose to even be able to be distracted in the first place. Yet, he couldn’t quite find his voice to decline, so he only started to fluster as he broke eye contact, and took a sip of his drink in the meantime.

“Tell you what,” she smirked, taking a napkin from the bar and began to scribble something on it. “I finish at eleven-thirty. Here’s my number, just in case.”

As he helplessly watched her, he felt somebody put their arm through his as they approached the bar from behind, and was somewhat mortified to find Rose appear beside him. She looked quite peculiar indeed, an expression he had seen a couple of times aimed directly at the woman in front of her, and he glanced down in confusion when she placed her other hand on his arm.

“Malibu and Coke, please.”

Laura looked over to her, then down to her arm, then back up with a look that only seemed to mirror Rose’s. “Got any ID?”

Rose scoffed. “This is my party, you know.”

“Can’t serve you unless you’ve got ID.”

“Tell you what—” the Doctor interrupted, reaching into his pocket for the psychic paper as he heard Rose about to counter “—this one’s on me. Can’t have the birthday girl paying for her own drinks.”

Laura only looked back at him in disillusionment, her eyes flickered back to Rose. “Okay, but it was just you I was buying the drink for.”

Rose scoffed incredulously, and wrapped her arms around the Doctor’s only tighter as the two women seemed to be engaging in a fight without actually fighting. Or from what he could tell, anyway.

“Enduring terrible flirting and being come on to is just one of the many things I’m voluntarily subjecting myself to to be here with you tonight.”

“How hard that must be for you.”

“Just didn’t think you were interested in this sort of stuff, s’all,” she shrugged.

He frowned; he assumed she must have meant flirting. “I’m not.”

“Only got eyes for you, promise.”

She seemed to only laugh in spite of herself at his words, and seemed to receive his joke — although he couldn’t be certain he had meant it to be one. She looked up at him through those devilishly long eyelashes of hers and he tried desperately to think of just about anything to say to change the subject.

“Having a nice night?”

Rose pulled up a bar stool and hoisted herself up, wiggling about to get comfortable. “S’been nice, yeah. So many mates I haven't seen in forever — not since we all went to get our GCSEs.”

He gazed to the side of her in thought. “Five years ago, that must be now?”

She raised her eyebrow, but didn’t smile. “Yeah. Can’t believe it.”

She started poking at the ice in her drink now, but not consciously. She was distracted, seemingly saddened by the thoughts running through her mind. He watched her hand, her nails recently painted, wearing the ring her mum had got her for her birthday.

“I’m twenty-one,” she almost whimpered.

“Wait till you get to nine-hundred.”

He was relieved to hear her laugh, a real one, and she glanced at him with kind eyes, her eyes, not those strangely woeful ones she looked at her glass with. “Yeah. If ever I’m feeling old, I’ll just think about you instead.”

“There are some benefits to being ancient, then.”

She giggled, and it only seemed to tickle her more until he saw her completely, Rose as he knew her returned back to him. It relieved him, and he realised he had stiffened to see her so glum. She glanced once more down at the napkin and he sighed, unsure exactly what she was thinking, before something told him to lift up her glass and place it underneath instead. She turned to him with a shy smile, her lips thin as she tried to hide whatever emotion was surfacing, and she was unable to hold his gaze for long when she leaned against him to nudge his arm with hers. An apology, he guessed, and he himself tittered in response. She was less saddened certainly, but her silence was not quite unburdened, so he sought,

“What’s on your mind?”

“Hmm?”

“You,” he said softly. “I know you don’t like your birthday, but something’s up.”

She once more gave him one of those thin smiles, a smile he recognised was one she was trying to put on for him but unsuccessfully — he knew her, afterall. She sighed, and shook her head.

“Everyone’s… it’s just so strange. Being back, after having been away. Things have just… happened. Like Charlie’s had a baby, can’t believe it. She’s younger than me.”

So that was it. He felt an odd sense of guilt in the centre of his chest that only sank lower, and he realised she had only been confronted with how much she had missed since travelling with him. How much she was missing out on, and how much he had taken from her while he only wanted to keep her for himself. But he didn’t suppose she needed his self-loathing tonight, so instead, he frowned as he thought.

“Charlie’s your…” he began, trying to remember as he scanned the room.

“Cousin.”

“Right,” he nodded. He was surprised to find her watching him with a gentle smile when he looked back at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she grinned, sheepishly, looking down briefly as her smile only grew less so and slightly more endeared, might he say, instead. “Just you, trying to learn all my family and friends.”

“Trying being the keyword there — there’s a lot of them.”

“I know, but it’s funny,” she teased, that tongue sticking out of her teeth that he had to quickly avert his gaze from, “You can remember something complex and yet still get lost remembering the names of my family.”

“My mind sadly is not a TARDIS,” he jibed, and she chortled delightfully into her glasses as she took a sip. “Everytime I have to remember one of your cousin’s names, I have to forget about something else. I’ve forgotten Einstein’s special relativity equation to remember you have an Aunt called Jeanette.”

“Well, that's a bummer for relativity, because my Aunt’s called June.”

He frowned at her, momentarily fooled, before he rolled his eyes. “No she’s not.”

Rose scoffed with her mouth agape in shock. “Yes she is!”

As she giggled away, he vaguely recalled meeting a month, before his eyes widened and he blinked in defeat.

“Blimey, right then.”

Rose put her drink back down on the bar and struggled to contain her giggles and, goodness, he simply couldn’t look away. Her eyes scrunched shut, her nose wrinkled and smile so bright, she was impossibly beautiful when she was like this, her laughter sounding so pure and so wonderfully joyous. He wasn’t convinced she was laughing solely at his complete inability to remember anything remotely related to something so important as her family, because he only imagined it to be quite disappointing, but he wasn’t about to step in and stop her, especially not when he felt his own smile begin to grow at seeing her this way. She shook her head and opened her eyes as her giggles subsided but smile remained and she looked at him in the most breathtaking way and he could feel himself falling, needing to physically stop himself from leaning in closer to her.

There was a moment, one terribly long agonising moment, where he thought he might just falter. Despite everything inside him begging him not to, he found himself unable to hear himself when her eyes locked with his in such a way, in fact, the only thing that was able to prevent him from kissing her was knowing how terribly awkward it would be when she pulls back, wondering what on Earth he was thinking to presume she would want him to kiss her. So he swallowed, and looked away, back down at his drink and he took another sip.

Thankfully, before he had a chance to make a fool of himself and try to string a sentence together, he was interrupted by a voice sounding from a microphone behind them. They both turned, and, over at the corner of the pub stood two of Rose’s girlfriends, both of whom he remembered were with them at the table earlier, standing with a few pieces of card in their hands.

“Ahem — can we have everyone’s attention, please?” one of them — he was sure her name was Grace — announced, a smug anticipatory smile donned her slightly flushed face, and the room went quiet a moment before the music turned down, too. “Hi! Good evening, everyone! So, in case you aren’t all aware yet, today is our very own Rosie Tyler’s twenty-first birthday!”

The room broke into applause, a few cheers and the odd wolf whistle as many turned to look at Rose beside him.

He teased quietly only to her, “Rosie?”

“Shut up,” she muttered as she elbowed him, but couldn’t stop grinning despite herself. “Little gits know I hate being called Rosie.”

“So before we get started, a very happy birthday to you!” the other girl — Cara, was it? There goes Euler’s equation, he surrendered — said into the microphone. “We hope you’re having a great night, and we love you—”

“Even if she did nick my GHDs.”

Rose snorted when Grace stuck her tongue out at her. “I did not! I just forgot to give them back to you!”

“Hmm, how convenient— anyway,” Grace stressed, and the room was chuckling to their playful teasing. “We thought we might play a little game, before we start the, er, slideshow in a bit—”

“Oh, god,” Rose muttered under her breath, and the Doctor sniggered quietly.

“— just a quick ‘How well do you know Rose Tyler’ quiz. No teams, no competition, strictly for embarrassment purposes alone.”

“Get me out of here,” Rose whispered to him, but he stayed firmly put.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m staying for this.”

“Then I’m going to fly your ship myself and leave you here stranded.”

“Fine by me, I want to see all those pictures you’ve been so adamant remain hidden away in a box every time we go round to your mum’s.”

She groaned, and hid her face in her palms.

“So, without further ado: question one.” Grace paused for dramatic effect, reading the words on her paper with a teasing smile. “What was the name of Rose’s first boyfriend?”

“Oh my god, my mum’s here—”

“Jimmy!” one of her friends shouted, and the Doctor felt Rose bury her face against his arm.

“No,” she whispered, about the same time Grace called out,

“Incorrect!”

“Craig David!” a male voice shouted, and Rose groaned loudly as the room went quiet.

“That is correct!”

The Doctor scoffed next to her as the rest of the room erupted into laughter. “Oh, come on.”

“Rose absolutely believed she and Craig David were meant to be back in year six, and told everyone they were boyfriend and girlfriend,” Cara giggled, and the Doctor only chuckled to hear Rose repeatedly whispering ‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god’ into his arm.

“Had to get her a poster!” Jackie called with a squeal of delight.

“Get me— you’re a Time Lord for god’s sake, go back in time and stop this from all happening!” Rose urged.

“Not a chance.”

“Question two!” And once more, the room went quiet in anticipation. “And a little less embarrassing, maybe—”

“Thank God,” Rose mumbled. At that point, he couldn’t really stop himself from giving her arm a gentle stroke.

“— Which film was Rose obsessed with at the beginning of secondary school?”

“Easy! Back to the Future!” another one of her friends called out.

The Doctor scoffed, “You’re kidding?”

Rose pulled away, then, unashamed. “Marty Mcfly, hottest fictional character in the world, I stand by it.”

“If I dress up in that puffer vest and the TARDIS gets her act together to disguise as a DeLorean, are we just playing out your secondary school fantasy?”

“Why do you think you had me so hooked with ‘did I mention it also travels in time’?”

“And that is correct!” Grace called, and just on queue, The Power of Love began to play through the speakers. Rose shook her head, and broke into a timid but unabashed smile.

“How many gigawatts to travel in time, Rose?” Grace called.

“One point twenty-one!” she volleyed, unashamed.

“Is that all? I’ll remember that for next time,” the Doctor whispered, and she elbowed him with a smirk.

“Question three — and sorry, Jackie — but why did Rose get two weeks of detention in year eleven?”

“Oh my god no!”

“Two weeks!” The Doctor kept his exclamation hushed, and once more Rose turned back around to face the other side of the bar, but he tugged on her arm to bring her back around, leaving her unable to hide her embarrassment and red hot cheeks.

“For skipping maths to snog Jimmy in the art room!”

“Rose!” Jackie gasped loudly as the room cheered.

“This is the worst thing that has ever happened in my life ever,” she groaned to the Doctor, and he only found her that much more gorgeous as she looked so delightfully mortified.

“That is correct!”

Rose whimpered quietly to the Doctor as the rest of the room erupted into laughter, “Please do that thing again where you make me forget all of my memories.”

“The snog wasn’t that great, then?”

She shuddered. “Far too much tongue.”

“How delightful,” he chuckled, feeling a peculiar sense of victory.

“Question four!” Grace called, and waited for the room to settle. “Which medal did Rose win in the county gymnastics?”

“The bronze!” the Doctor called, surprised but unashamed for calling out himself, and the room roared in cheer and a thunderous applause broke out.

“And quite right!” Cara hailed into the microphone, and Rose bumped arms with the Doctor.

“Was only the bronze,” she mumbled.

“Hey!” he denounced, “The bronze is bloody excellent!”

Her smile was thin and bashful and begged to be attended to; he responded without thinking by pulling her into his side and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Okay, okay, our last and final question—” somebody at one of the nearby tables began to perform a drum roll as Grace paused to read the card “— What did Rose do on her eighteenth birthday?”

“Get absolutely hammered?” someone suggested, and by the way Rose only hid herself further into his chest and shook her head, he imagined they were right.

“More detail needed!” Grace called.

“My whole family’s here,” she whimpered quietly.

“How PG are we keeping it?” one of the boys from the table they were all sitting at earlier shouted, and they giggled amongst themselves.

“Oh god, was it that bad?” he whispered to her, but she just kept shaking her head.

“More PG than your eighteenth, Liam,” Cara pointed out, to which Liam held his hands up in his surrender.

“Didn’t you throw up at Tottenham Court Road bus stop?”

“That was not me!” Rose called out, releasing her hold on the Doctor. He folded his arms, now very aware that the rest of the room was looking at them. “That was Shareen!”

Shareen gasped somewhere in the crowd. “You little grass!” She slammed her hand down on the table and stood up. “And for that, I’m breaking my silence — on Rose’s eighteenth birthday, she got drunk and performed ‘Steps, Tragedy’ up on a table on Carnaby Street in front of the entire street with accompanying dance moves — and she fell down at the end.”

“And we have the video to play to you all later!” Cara beamed, just as the room erupted into an excited cheer.

Rose shrieked in protest, her cheeks burning red and the Doctor only cackled at the image of Rose drunkenly bearing her heart and soul out to what he knew was her favourite girl band of the 90s, so he could only imagine how animated that performance must have been. People had got to their feet, cheering and clapping as Rose hid her face in her palms and Tragedy began to blare through the speakers. Some chanted along, some were too lost in their own giggling and retelling of old anecdotes, and some flocked to Rose to give her gleeful hugs and cheer her on. But something about it saddened him all of a sudden, watching as Rose was swallowed up by the love of her friends so fierce and unashamed, a dull and remorseful ache somewhere in his chest that he couldn’t quite place but certainly didn’t like.

He turned back around and spotted Laura, now leaning against the back bar, and he caught her eye.

“I’ll take that stronger drink, now.”

She glanced over at Rose, now completely lost to the crowd, then back at him, and nodded.

He didn’t drink often, not at all, so he insisted only on a single, handing Laura a fiver and telling her to keep the change. He got to his feet, grabbed his jacket, and slipped quietly outside and into the pub garden.

The night was pleasant, the stars for once visible over London, but he imagined most might not catch them so clearly amidst the surrounding light pollution. There were strings of warm fairy lights hanging from the brick wall that surrounded the quite large garden, a few pub benches dotted around with even less people quietly chatting amongst themselves over a beer and the odd cigarette. What encouraged him the most was the quiet, the peacefulness that greeted him as he stepped out of the pub, sitting down on one of the vacant tables just under a tree with yet more fairy lights hanging from it.

He sighed deeply, but he found he wasn’t quite fully able to breathe in all the way, like something caged his chest and prevented it from fully expanding. He took a sip of the — what he discovered was — whiskey and shuddered to feel its heat trickle down his throat, settling something that had been rising in his body all night. He looked down at his hands, quivering now although he was not cold, and swallowed thickly.

He was in love, he had known that for a long time. But tonight he had realised how terribly irrevocable it was, how awfully trapped he had made himself in his dreadful and unavoidable addiction to her, how he had known this was going to be devastating and he was going to regret it but yet hadn’t cared. And now here he sat, alone as he always was and always would be, wondering just how he might survive this in the end.

It wasn’t that he worried about the day she would no longer be with him, although that wasn’t a thought he liked to entertain. It was this horrible ache, a dullness in his bones, a contradiction to the life she inspired within him. It was twisted, it was confusing, and it was devastating.

He looked up at the stars, a universe above him that he knew and yet didn’t. Taking another sip of his whiskey, and following another subsequent involuntary shudder, he closed his eyes to the return of that hollowness in his chest. The vacuum above felt infinitely small in comparison, and he knew there was no fighting it’s torture except to grit and bear it for as long as she stayed with him, and even longer than that.

He didn’t shudder when he took a third sip of his drink.

He had been so lost in his thoughts for so long that he only realised the environment had altered when a figure sat beside him. There were less people now he realised, only one or two at a table a few away from his, but none of that seemed to matter when he saw it was Rose who had sat down next to him.

“You alright?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

She shivered, and looked down at his drink. “Bit too much back in there, yeah?”

He couldn't reply at first, but his lie found his tongue at the time that he swallowed. “Na, it’s been alright. Just needed five outside in the quiet.”

Rose grinned, a warm smile he knew well, and shivered once more. The goosebumps began to line her skin, soft hairs rising on her arms, and he glanced down at her things to see the same pattern emerging there. He unbuttoned his jacket and slipped it off, attentively hanging it over her shoulders and she looked down with a smile, pulling it tighter around her.

“Thanks,” she whispered, a soft sound that settled on the air and he closed his eyes to it, trying to still what it did to his hearts. Once more, he breathed deeply, now that he could as she sat close to him, and when he opened his eyes on his exhale he saw her looking down at the table, mulling over something in her mind.

“Are you alright?” he murmured, and she closed her eyes to that.

“Mmm. Just needed to step out — don’t like havin’ all the attention on me, you know that.”

Funny, he thought, if she knew just how much she claimed all of his attention, his thoughts and dreams, his hopes and longings, even down to his physiology and heartbeat, she would flee.

Her legs had started to bounce — anxiously or because they were cold, he didn’t know — but he found himself looking at a mole on her thigh, one he of course had never seen before. He closed his eyes once more in a desperate plea to try and stop the thoughts from drowning him, of how much he wanted to see every piece of her, to know all her moles and the feel of her skin under his fingers, to learn her and know her in a way nobody else did or ever could possibly again.

“Y’know, I remember the first time you met all my family, when we were huddled in my mum’s living room watching the telly,” she grinned, and her voice encouraged him to avert his gaze, and, thankfully, his thoughts. “Said you didn’t do domestics and all that.”

“I still don’t,” he pointed out, and she sniggered. “I have no idea how I keep finding myself in these situations so often.”

“I think you like them, really.”

“I like you, there’s a difference.”

She chuckled, “So if I’m understanding you correctly, the last of the Time Lords bends to nobody’s will except mine?”

“You understood that correctly, yes.”

Her gleeful hum in response was enough for him to let her believe he was exaggerating. After a minute or two, she spoke again.

“I used to come here all the time. Most Thursdays after work. Sometimes it’d be all of us — it was quite central for where we all worked — and sometimes it’d just be me and Mickey.”

He grimaced as she rubbed salt into the wound unknowingly. He was reluctant to admit to himself just how many hours he had spent thinking about them, of their dates in the park and stolen kisses in her lunch break, of nights spent together and mornings in love. He glanced back down at the mole on her leg and knew of course he wasn’t going to know her as nobody else did, he never could even if he did ever give in to his hearts.

“It’s like a different life,” she sighed. “I always thought this sort of stuff would hit you in your thirties, lookin’ back over your school days and realising how much had changed since then. But I’m twenty-one, and it feels like a completely different me and it was only two years ago!”

He was still while she spoke what was on her mind. He didn’t get the feeling that she regretted it so much, and he was a little relieved at that. But he thought perhaps it was more the speed of time passing that stunned her, her perspective of it all shifting and she wasn’t quite ready for it. As a Time Lord, he so wished he could slow it down for her, make it just that little bit more manageable because, truthfully, it terrified him sometimes, too.

“It’s only that you fill your life with so much that it feels that way,” he tried, and she sniffed in the cold. “It feels a bit like time passed you by because, well, it has. You didn’t even see it go, you were far too busy moving and adapting but it passed, at the same rate it always does. But you didn’t.”

She frowned, and gave him a lopsided smile. “I suppose you would give me some nonsensical explanation of time that oddly makes sense.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“Really?” She scrunched her nose. “I thought you were here to protect time.”

“Whoever told you that?”

She rolled her eyes with a more symmetrical smile now, her hands moving to cover her face as she attempted to hide just how funny she found his joke. “If it’s this bad at twenty-one, must be bloody awful for you.”

He inhaled sharply, making her giggle more. “The trick is not to think about it.”

“Take each day as it comes,” she reflected, and he hummed beside her in agreement. “They were right, all those adults. Everytime they said to live each day to the fullest.”

“That they were.”

And then she seemed to sadden again. After a moment, and with a quiver to her voice, she whispered,

“If only it didn’t make time pass faster that way.”

He nodded slowly in agreement, although he protested she be thinking such morose concepts on her twenty-first birthday. She began to pick at the skin around her nails, the nail polish on her thumb had chipped and he knew she must have been doing this all night, then.

“Why don’t you like your own birthdays?” he asked, realising that he never had.

She shrugged. “I used to love my birthdays. Birthday cakes, party bags, trips to the London Fields Lido and all that stuff.”

“Then what changed?”

She hesitated, and frowned. He waited while she thought, but he realised at some point she wasn’t searching for the answer, she was only debating whether to give it to him. Eventually, she swallowed, and spoke flatly,

“I met a Time Lord.”

And there it was. He felt his thoughts click into place, then, that strange sadness about her all day that he hadn’t quite been able to interpret finally making sense. It was, truthfully, his biggest regret, although he should have seen it coming, and he only gritted his teeth at his own negligence.

“Rose—”

“No, but think about it,” she insisted, and for once he found himself wanting to listen to her, to hear her worries about something he considered constantly. She seemed too intent on bearing herself to him here, in this garden, on this night, and he could only let her. “Every day I get older—”

“You’re twenty-one, that’s hardly you getting older—”

“But it is!” she retorted, a strange smile that wasn’t a smile by any means only holding back her tears now and he didn't know how they had got here, but his hearts ached to see her like this nonetheless. Her mouth hung open as if to say something else, but she seemed unable to and only let out a small croak instead.

“Hey,” he murmured, and he took the opportunity to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, curling his fingers as he dared himself to brush her cheek. “I do not want you to miss out on any of this because you’re afraid of getting older next to me.”

“M’not afraid of getting older,” she contended plainly. “I’m afraid of leaving you all alone.”

His breath was uneven as he exhaled, but he didn’t think she would have detected it. He dropped his hand back down to the table, and she sniffed wetly, seemingly annoyed by herself for some reason. She bit down on her bottom lip with her eyes closed before she opened them to find his, holding his gaze firm. He saw all of her, then, the things she didn’t want him to see in her eyes even in this light, and he knew she must be seeing all of him, too.

Because it consumed him to learn that this was how she felt. That she regretted each passing day because it was one less day — not that she got to spend with him, but that he had left to spend with somebody. The dreadful wringing of his chest at that, at knowing how much of her life and how many of her days she was spending in fear for his inevitable loneliness when that was only his worry, his concern. Rose wasn’t supposed to feel any of that, much less break her own heart every day, and he realised he must have been doing a terrible job at keeping those worries and concerns to himself. Rose only ever wanted everybody else to be okay, and now, on her twenty-first birthday, she was furious with her own mortality for getting in the way, stopping somebody she cared for so deeply from hurting.

So he had no alternative, really, when he leaned in to her this time. He just about had enough control to pause, give her the chance to pull away if she so wanted, and it seemed as though time completely stopped as he did. He could hear her breathing shallow, see the goosebumps line her neck and he took that moment, those few seconds, to learn her as he had wanted. His eyes found another mole on her collarbone, and upwards, the pulse in her neck at having him this close to her. A quiet and strained whimper on her lips, a plea, and then the feel of those lips against his.

He had always wondered how she would taste. The time he had kissed her on Satellite Five, he had only done so to take the time vortex from her, and for that his senses were mostly dulled. Now, as time slowly began to resume once more, he couldn’t taste a thing either; all he could do was feel. This overwhelming relief surging through him, his hearts beating as they should to feel this alive, and, for a moment, an assertion that nothing could tamper with his hope.

And then she gasped; her mouth opened and that’s when he could finally taste her. And he did, the tip of his tongue finally tasted home as it explored the texture of hers and everything he was learning about her he already knew. Because she was familiar, she was her, he knew her lips already and running his tongue along them told him nothing new about them but yet wanted more even still, to know how her bottom lip felt between his teeth, and he was a quick learner, picking up on the sensitive spots that would draw her moans and which of them would catch her breath in her throat.

His heightened senses had thus far only proven to be most valuable, until now, because she consumed all of him to a point where it was too much, and he had to break away, just to focus. But she didn’t hesitate to keep going, so keen was she on tasting him too, and she trailed her kisses across his cheek and along his jaw and this was new, feeling her learn him with her own senses, the moans she drew out herself at certain points on his skin.

“Rose,” he breathed, a plea and a promise in itself, and she brought their lips back together once more.

She began to shift without breaking their kiss and he felt her move one of her legs over him, soft chuckles she released onto his lips as she fumbled onto his lap on the most uncomfortable bench he could remember sitting on. But he quickly lost all conscious recognition of the world outside him, outside them, when he felt her hands move to cup his neck before her fingers slowly trailed up and through his hair. Her lips curled when he groaned and a second later so did she when she ran her nails back down. Their kiss was broken when her head rolled back to the feel of his hands on her thighs, sliding up to her waist where they held her hips close to his and in their respite, his lips found her neck and he sucked, just over her pulse, her breath catching in response. He felt her hands loosen as they became less conscious of their actions and more reflexive to her feelings and he felt her pulse drum fervently beneath his lips. With a final nip to her skin, he released her, the darkened bruise forming he could see even under this light, and pride raptured his veins to have finally claimed just a part of her as his. But then the trouble was he wanted to claim all of her as his, if she would let him, and by the way she rocked into his hold when he pulled away only confirmed that she would. As her lips began their descent once more down onto his skin, pressing sweet and messy kisses down the bridge of his nose and to his lips, he realised he couldn’t find the trouble in it at all.

He deftly slipped his jacket off her shoulders and shuddered at the speed in which her goosebumps prickled beneath his fingers, before he dragged them slowly across her shoulders and down her back, as far as her dress would allow. One hand stayed where it was, exploring the planes of her shoulder blades as they contracted with the movement of her hands, and the other travelled south and to the small of her back where he pressed, gently, until she arched into him. That move released another sound from her lips, much lower this time, much deeper and hungrier and his was only lustful in response. She tore her lips from his to bow her head to his shoulder, pausing only to catch her breath with the intent of resuming, so he peppered his kisses this time further down her neck, softening as they pressed across her shoulder until he felt her lips on his neck, her teeth grazing his skin as she matched the mark made on hers. He shivered to know she was doing the same, marking him, and he moaned into her skin as he allowed her to.

“I want you,” she breathed, he was sure she was trying to sound firm but her need strained her request. “But not here.”

He remained still as his surroundings began to settle into their rightful place and he remembered where they were. He was in no way ready to pull back, but he couldn't exactly keep going, so instead he kept his eyes closed as he followed the trail of his hands on her body, slowly tracing the curves and dips of her frame. She didn’t move either, but it seemed she too was focused only on his hands, as she had since stopped exploring him herself. To feel her in this way, to roam freely as he wished while she remained compliant and willing above him, prevented him from asking if she was sure she wanted him, and if was even a little bit more level-headed than he was at the moment, he would ask if she had really thought this through.

But all he could seem to focus on was her words, the sound of her telling him she wanted him. After that, nothing else mattered.

“Doctor,” she whispered again, and he opened his eyes to find that mole on her collarbone beneath him. He swallowed, and with considerable difficulty, and pressed his lips to it before he finally pulled away.

She cleared her throat and started to shift off of him and he spotted the other table glance over in their direction. Right, he thought, scratching the back of his neck and neatning his — he was sure — disheveled hair. Public decency, must remember that one.

Rose was grinning sheepishly by the time she settled down next to him, and for a moment, neither looked at the other. He swallowed, now that he was finally able to, and ran his palms over his trousers to neaten them down just a little. Rose tugged on the hem of her dress to bring it a bit further down her thighs and he swallowed again to see her legs bare, having only very recently felt them beneath his hands, and the tips of his fingers tingled at the memory.

Rose let out a breathy laugh, then, and he glanced over to her just at the time she looked up at him. She drank him in, her eyes flickering across his face, but he couldn’t quite do the same; he found himself transfixed only on her eyes.

“C’mere” she grinned, licking her thumb and rubbing it across his cheek. “You’ve got lipstick all over you.”

He nodded, before he gestured to her. “Funnily enough, so do you.”

She pressed her fingers to the side of her lips and giggled while he fumbled around in his suit pockets for some makeup wipes, and then she brought them down to her neck to press gently into the bruise beginning to form over her pulse.

“Bit more worried about everyone seeing that.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Didn’t hear any complaints from you when I was giving it to you.”

“Nope,” she affirmed smugly. She tugged at the wipes when he pulled them out, taking one and began cleaning up his face. “Think I’ve got some concealer in my bag, anyway.”

“Your bag’s inside.”

“Bugger,” she cursed, and he chuckled. “Reckon you could go and grab it for me before anyone sees?”

He pointed to his neck. “I think we just have to own this one, Rose.”

“It’s a lot easier to own it when everyone doesn’t know you.”

“It’s only you they know.”

“Right,” she beamed, “so you won’t have a problem going and getting my bag then, will you?”

“Bugger,” he cursed, and she chuckled.

He watched her, then, the golden lights shimmering in her eyes as she smiled, her lips still a little swollen and hair messier now. She wasn’t aware of him watching her, he didn’t think, so she was caught off guard when he began to smooth down the strands, running his fingers softly through her hair to bring back a bit of order. As he did, his gaze remained fixed on her, the shy way she kept herself still and allowed him to sort her out, to fix her back up as if she needed fixing in the first place.

“You are…” he tried, but the word was lost on his lips. He had no way of surmising her beauty at that moment, and he supposed that's why people looked to poetry or song in times where words weren’t adequate to suffice.

Perhaps she didn’t need any of that, because she seemed to understand exactly what he was trying to say, or at least the depth of it. She took his hand then, which had since frozen in his quest to articulate just how captivating she was, and brought it to her lips. She kissed each of his fingers deliberately, carefully, attentively, her eyes closed as she spoke the words caught in her throat on his skin and all he could do was listen.

God, she was divine. He felt the way his hearts completely responded to her alone, their slight quickening as her lips brushed his skin and the harder they beat for her when she released him. He was sure they had a song about them, her song, and he could have them converse with her for as long as he lived.

“What are you thinking?” she murmured, and he had been mostly — no, completely — unaware of her watching him. He wasn’t quite ready yet to translate his hearts’ intent, so instead he leaned back into her, touching his lips to the corner of hers to kiss her where he was hesitant to pull back, captured instead by a sweetness that lingered on her skin. When her lips curled beneath his, he finally did pull away; not too far though, just enough for her to hear the words he didn’t speak.

Neither said anything, for a while. Not through their searching for something to say, but simply because this was unlike them to be so close and they were familiarising themselves with it.

He was falling in love with it.

“You know,” she whispered with a smile, “I don’t think I’ve ever known you to say so little.”

“Would you prefer it if I were babbling away instead?”

“God, no,” she chuckled as he pulled away. “Think I can safely say that’s one of my preferred ways you’ve made use of your tongue.”

He raised his eyebrow and her cheeks flushed pink furiously.

“Oh my god, no! I didn’t mean— not that!”

He raised his other eyebrow and, after quickly searching his eyes, she raised hers.

“Wow, okay so maybe that, if you’re—”

He chuckled, and kissed her shoulder before climbing to his feet. “I’m going to go and get your bag.”

“Or—” she grabbed his hand to stop him “— how about we both go back to the TARDIS and pick up where we left off?”

He snorted. “No chance am I missing your drunken Steps performance.”

“Not even for a good shag?”

He stilled to hear her say it, and only then did it occur to him that that was where this was heading. It was sobering, but he couldn’t say in any way it was repellent — not at all — only completely unbelievable.

“Oh god—” she slapped her hands to her face “—you didn’t— that’s not what.. what you— oh my god you didn’t say that’s what you wanted—”

“Rose,” he stressed, although gently, pulling her hand away as he crouched down in front of her. He tried to look at her, peering up from underneath her, but she wouldn’t look back at him. “I don’t think we’d be fooling anybody if I said I didn’t want that, too.”

She nodded firmly, still unable to look him in the eye. He rubbed his thumb over her fingers as they rested firmly in his, still a little nervous was she while he was completely certain.

“But it’s not all I want.”

“Yeah?” she said as she chewed her bottom lip. He nodded, and she paused for a moment, hesitant, before she spoke. “But…”

And then it was lost on her, either the rest of that sentence or her confidence to say it. Her fingers began to fidget in his, and he loosened his hold but not entirely, simply only allowing her the freedom to dwell without letting her drift entirely.

“But what?” he probed.

She looked even further down now, her chin tucked to her chest. “Wither and die, and all that.”

Ah yes, he grimaced. That.

The truth was, of course that’s all he could think about. And he regretted saying that to her every day since he had, because it shouldn’t have been her problem and yet he had made it her problem. By only showing her how much it anguished him, she had taken it upon herself to fix it for him, only to realise that she couldn’t. Nobody could, and for that, she couldn’t simply rest and allow herself to be happy while he only awaited misery. He wondered, then, if that was why she was so hesitant — not because she didn’t want this with all her heart, but because he had given her reason to believe he was petrified for his own survival, for a future of solitude without her but it was specifically that last part that tortured him now.

Without her. How could she possibly begin to resolve her heartache when she worried tirelessly over something she couldn’t control? He had to unburden her, assure her that he wasn’t scared for him, when truthfully he felt sick by his awaited grief. So for that, he bent his head to kiss her knee, and swore to inherit all her anxieties himself and free her of them.

“I know you’re a whole twenty-one-years-old now, but I don’t see you withering anytime soon.”

She didn’t laugh, but he still smiled reassuringly, intent on fulfilling his promise.

“But I will, one day,” she countered, and he fought back a sigh.

“Are you always this miserable on your birthday?”

“Doctor!” she pleaded, but she was beginning to smile despite herself. “This is serious!”

The worst part was that he had had this exact argument with himself, time and time again, only he was normally on her side himself. But it had all changed when he had heard her tell him she wanted him; up until then, those arguments with himself were a response to the very hypothetical situation she might want him, but now that she actually did, he found himself quite unable to see her side now.

“Alright, alright,” he held up his hands in defeat. “You’re right.”

She didn’t exactly bask in it, but he knew he wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. So he perched himself down next to her, the picnic bench groaning as he settled his weight. A silence extended between them and he watched as Rose played with her ring, fiddling about with it in the interlude as she tried to find her words. But as the silence passed and she remained quiet, he realised perhaps she had nothing to say unprompted, so he asked a question he was sure he never would in the hope that she might finally release herself.

“What do you want?” he whispered.

She hesitated even still, before her breath carried her answer in a sigh. “You.”

He could have her say it over and over again and never tire of it; perhaps that serenely restful truth caused the words to tumble from his lips so desperately. “You have me. Christ knows why you want me out of anyone else in the whole bloody universe, but whatever you want is yours.”

Perhaps it was the slight inflection on just the right word, or perhaps it was all of them together, but he felt her somewhat loosen beside him. Determined though he was, he was misplaced to hear himself say it, something he only ever imagined might terrify her now only somehow consoling her.

“This is… mad,” she shuddered with a smile. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?”

“I can take an educated guess.”

“And you really want this too?”

He shrugged. “Probably— I don’t know, haven’t really thought it through.”

She whacked his arm with a chuckle she couldn’t quite suppress. “Oh my god—“

“Rose,” he whispered, urged perhaps, and she all but stilled completely to hear him say her name in such a way. He turned to look at her but she had closed her eyes, so he took her hand, small and fragile and soft as it was, and started to settle the ache in his fingers by running them across her skin. So warm, even if she didn’t think so in the cool April chill, and the softness against his, coarse and tired, was sublime.

“Why me?”

“Why you, what?”

“You said I could have anyone in the whole universe, well what about you? You’re a Time Lord,” she breathed the name of his race with such wonderment while he only regretted it, but he kept still. “And you’re the last one! You have literally all of time and space to choose from, why would you choose somebody with such a short life span— somebody who you can’t exactly share the rest of your life with or even a substantial part of it. Sixty years, that’s all I have! That’s all we’ll have!”

“This is a bit like talking about breaking up before you’ve even gotten together,” he pointed out, and she grinned again despite herself at that, and it only seemed to frustrate her that he joked when she searched for an answer much more reassuring. But the fact was, it would seem she had thought about this, and perhaps had even used it to convince herself he didn’t want her in return, which was utterly absurd to him. Joking with her wasn’t seeming to do the trick, lightening the mood in the hopes of lightening her worry was proving to serve no end to her own perceived stalemate, and she wasn’t just taking him at his word and allowing herself this.

So he bent his head to kiss the ball of her shoulder and he lingered there, breathing her in, unable to stop himself from kissing the same spot again. He needed saving from this, he realised, because kissing her seemed entirely unpreventable since he had allowed himself to only minutes ago, and right now she needed his reassurance.

“I’ve seen it all, Rose. Nine hundred years of travelling, I’ve met some spectacular people. But you have something on me that I can’t describe, and I know for a fact it’s irreversibly binding. I know, because I feel it in the way you smile, the sound of your laugh, I know I don’t stand a chance when you say my name as you giggle and I’m a complete lost cause when you touch me in any way. What I’m trying to say is I’ve met so many people in this universe, from so many corners of it across so many ages and none of them have ever given me something so completely tangible to hold on to.” He frowned, realising how he must sound completely bonkers, and he wasn’t exactly the greatest romantic of his time, but he really was limited by his words in describing what she was to him, so he settled instead on one final, simple sentiment. “You’re everything.”

He sniffed, because it sounded so terribly feeble and uninspired, and pulled away. She had been watching him as he spoke his mind, perhaps thinking he was an absolute nutter, but her palm touched his cheek and she leant forwards, brushing her lips to his and only holding on to time, savouring each passing second in this point in time and he felt how overwhelming it was, even to him. All the seconds passed, all the ones following it were immeasurable, literally, and for only a few of them, just one or two, they kissed. When she pulled away, he found himself wondering how he could possibly not chase more of those seconds.

“And don’t even get me started on that,” he breathed, and she giggled delightfully.

“You know, when you told me you were coming tonight, I thought maybe I might be lucky enough to hear you tell me I look beautiful—“

“Which I still haven’t done,” he chastised.

“— I never imagined any of this might happen, not for a second.”

“You didn’t?” he retaliated. “I was spending my day hoping that I could just survive it — and I have to say, there was a moment when your mother was telling me about Bev’s one night stand where I really, honestly, thought I might not.”

“And yet, you stayed,” she grinned, somewhat smugly and a little sweetly. “And you hate domestics!”

“I could get used to them,” he shrugged, and she only looked back at him in surprise. “Well, okay, I could learn how to tolerate them.”

“For me?” she said, still a little in disbelief.

“I told you, anything in the universe, time and space, all of it, is yours,” he assured. “If that includes family gatherings and ‘life admin’ days, then so be it.”

“Christmas dinner?”

“I’m there.”

“Even Mum’s fiftieth birthday bash?”

“Even that.”

“Christenings, baby showers, all that stuff, too?”

“If Charlie pops out any more kids, you bet I’ll be meeting them all.”

Rose scoffed, “Who are you and what have you done to the Doctor!”

“S’what you’ve done to me,” he corrected.

“It’s what domestics have done to you.”

“No, no, it’s definitely you.”

The sound of these giggles in particular, the ones where she was endearingly timid as he all but worshiped her, were entrancing; a new world he had yet to explore lay in their sound and he was a traveller, after all. It was far too tempting, she was far too tempting, and her darkened eyes as she looked at him here and now held a map to a path unknown, a whole universe in itself and he was ready to be lost in this one.

Her eyes flickered to his lips and she licked hers almost straight after, before she met his gaze once more and they were somehow even darker now. He found himself falling before he had even let go; their noses touched and her hand on his thigh sparked, and this was ridiculous, it was completely without sense that it all should feel like this. How many times had he fallen in love, how many moments had passed like this one and yet none of them were like this one, nobody looked as she looked at him, nobody’s touch was as devilishly hypnotic and never before had his hearts drummed so mercilessly for a moment in time to pass and yet remain—

“Rose!”

They both tore away to the sound of her name being called from the door, and all at once it came back: the sounds of merriment inside, the rustle of the leaves above them, the very harsh reminder that they weren’t alone.

“We’ve been looking all over for you, your mum wants to do a speech.”

“Oh, god,” Rose groaned as Shareen trudged over to them. But her steps slowed as she got closer, until she stopped completely just before them, her mouth open as she realised what she had interrupted.

He wished, with everything he had really, to be anywhere else but here.

“Oh my god, are you two—“ she gasped, narrowing her eyes at them before she pointed at their necks. “What! is that a— have you two got hickeys?”

Rose fidgeted excessively, pulling her dress down as much as she could before slapping her hand to her neck. “Shareen— please can you go get my bag?”

She scoffed indignantly and folded her arms. “Concealer ain’t gonna cover that up— what did you do to her!” she teased at the Doctor, and he only hung his head low and desperately willed for this to be over.

“Shareen,” Rose groaned. “Please, c’mon— I got two bloody weeks of detention covering for you when it was both of us skipping science to snog our boyfriends!”

The Doctor scratched his neck and shuddered to realise he was now in a situation akin to snogging his high school girlfriend when he should be in science class. He’d always wanted the human experience but this was not so high up on his list.

“As your mate, it’s my duty to have you completely mortified on your twenty-first — but—“ she insisted, when Rose began to protest “— as your best mate, I’m going to do you this favour and help you cover up the fact that you were out here neckin’ with a bloke none of us have really met before.”

The Doctor leapt to his feet, finally deciding to remove himself from this dreadful situation, but Shareen put her hand on his chest to stop him instead.

“Nope— you stay here, you look even worse than she does,” she smirked, before turning back to Rose with a wicked grin. “Give me two mins, but if your mum finds you in the meantime then I can’t help you.”

“Nobody could,” the Doctor muttered, mostly to himself, but Shareen caught it and giggled in agreement, before she turned to head back into the pub.

“I take it back,” he insisted as Rose got to her feet, too. “None of it, you can have none of it.”

“Nope,” she grinned. She took his tie in her hand and began to fiddle with it, but the look in her eye told him she was doing this deliberately, the little minx, and, worse yet, she knew exactly what it was doing to him. But she released him from it, this torture of being in a very public place when he so very much wished that they weren’t, and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down for a chaste kiss, smiling into his lips as she whispered, “No taking it back now, Time Lord.”

And it was worth it, he thought, to see a smile he hadn’t seen before. Well, that and the way she had called him “Time Lord” in a way that sent shivers down his spine. But her smile now was one where she was so completely happy and at ease, and he was quite happy indeed to bear the weight of her concerns if it meant she could enjoy her time alive.

He supposed, then, for her twenty-first birthday, he might have given her time itself.

#ten x rose #tenth doctor #rose tyler #dw fic #loup.fic #doctor who #ficandchips #oh god these two

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Pumpkin Juice ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 5K

PAIRING: slytherin!Jungkook x Hufflepuff!Reader

GENRE: HogwartsAU, Harry Potter Universe, friends to strangers, strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers who have secret crushes on one another, touch her and I’ll kill you vibes, there is no wizard war in this so shhh, everyone is happy...Fred is Fred .

A/N: I used the “Wheel Of Names” to generate who would be used for this imagine and I got Jungkook, I thought since I didn’t give anyone a chance to request him I would do this as a one off for now :)

Ever since you could remember it had always been you and Jungkook together, since you were kids you were always hanging out together and having fun. You'd met when you were younger, both your wizarding families had been friends for hundreds of years so it was fate that you and Jungkook would get along with one another. The two of you could never be separated, spending time with one another so much that people considered you siblings or some would even assume that you were dating. Your parents hoped you would date Jungkook since he was one of the best wizards in the country along with you by his side, the two of you were exceptionally smart and everyone had high expectations of you but once you began attending Hogwarts however, all of it changed. Instead of being your rock as he had been for all those years, Jungkook became a total stranger to you, being placed in Slytherin changed his personality for the worst. He began hanging around with all of the wrong people, Draco and Pansy influencing him to become one of the worst people you'd ever had the displeasure of knowing.

Even in your final year, he was still pretending as though he'd never even known you, escaping to talk to you whenever he could though and in the summer he would attend parties at your home as if nothing had changed. As if he hadn't spent the entire school term torturing you and your friends with mean nickname and chants that they had been coming up with. The worst one being a song they had curated around Cedric's death in The Triwizard Tournament when he knew that you and Cedric had been dating for some time.

"Look who it is, the book worm." You heard a familiar coo as you sat in the library one day during a free period, this voice didn't fill you with dread as many others did within the school grounds.

"Fred," You greeted coldly, pretending to be mean to him as you tried to focus your mind on the potions book in front of you trying to get everything to set in your mind, Snape was always on at you for being behind in his class but it wasn't your fault. Potions weren't something you wanted to take but it was forced upon you by your family, almost every member was a master at potions except for you. Quidditch was where your skills laid and you could have been a professional if you could keep your grades up but you kept getting "D"'s in your potions class,

"Another Dreadful?" George chimed in as he sat down beside you on one of the wooden chairs, glancing over at the latest potions report card you had gotten back, you slid it under your book not wanting anyone else that was inside of the library to see or overhear what was being spoken about.

"Snape hates me, that's all there is to it." You grumbled as your eyes continued to scan over the same sentence again and again but it was as if your head wasn't taking anything in that you were reading.

"You just need a good tutor, someone who is exceptionally brilliant at potions," George said as he began straightening out his robes, brushing them off as he was clearly speaking about himself,

"Someone who is also exceptionally good looking, charming and funny." He added as he put his elbow onto the desk, staring at you as he waited for you to take the hint. You smiled at him pretending as though you were taken in by everything he was saying,

"You're so right Georgey...But where would I find someone like that, Hogwarts is filled with Idiots." You winked at him pushing his elbow out from underneath him and laughing in sync with Fred as George hit his head onto the wooden desk below him.

"You're so mean to me," George began pouting out his bottom lip you were about to give him a sarcastic comment back when a shiver ran up and down your spine and the nearby candles blew out.

"Well, well, well, it's the Weasleys and their little Weasley Whore." You shuddered at the sound of Pansy's voice, it was like nails on a chalkboard to you as she made her way over to the desk. Glancing you up and down as she spotted the report card sticking out from under your book.

"How was your Potions exam?" She asked as she pulled out a chair across from you, you knew she didn't care about your exam so you began to slowly pack your things up in silence, wanting nothing more than to get away from her and study in peace.

"Not so fast!" She called out, slamming her hand down onto the book in front of you and dragging it towards her with a giant smirk across her lips.

Sliding out the report card the smirk only began to grow as she saw the large blood-red D written on the top of your card,

"I would have given you a T so it would match you," She tilted her head to the side faking sympathy as she said something mean to you,

"T for troll...Get it? I thought I would explain seeing as you're so stupid," Fred went to step forward to say something but you clutched his wrist, it wasn't worth the fight or the detention you would no doubt get from Snape if he heard you were standing up to one of his favourite students.

"Oh, this is a recent development," She snickered, staring down at your hand that was wrapped around Fred's pale wrist, the boy began to shake with anger but you tightened your grip.

"I'm sure Jungkook would love to hear about this, maybe we could add a verse to the Weasley Is Our King song with Y/n in it as well!" She jumped up from the chair with excitement and began giggling as she walked out of the hall, humming the tune to the song she had referenced.

"Not worth it, if Snape hears someone stood up to her there'll be hell to pay," You reminded Fred who was beginning to rant on about how Pansy had the face of a dog and the breath of one trying to get you to laugh.

"It's nothing, I need to go and study some more in the common room, maybe I can convince one of the house-elves to sneak me some food," You nudged George as you got up from the table walking out of the library and down to the moving staircases.

While on your way to the Hufflepuff common rooms you passed Jungkook who was standing outside the kitchen as if he was waiting for you to come by which would have completely outlandish to everyone else but to you it was normal. His leg was kicked up against the wall, nose down in a book as his eyes scanned over the text that was inside,

"Struggling with something?" You questioned making him jump a little as he looked up from the Astronomy textbook, his leg dropped to the floor as he nodded at you.

"I'll meet you at the Astronomy tower tonight but keep Pansy away from me, that was my deal with helping you with your studies," You reminded him of the deal you had made that summer between the two of you.

Trapped inside your bedroom you waited for Jungkook to say something first, all-year-long he'd been torturing you relentlessly with Pansy and Draco. The name-calling and the persistent annoying pranks he would do were starting to get to you but in the summer he was the old Jungkook you knew and loved pretending as though nothing had happened. It was the same every year and you hated it. You couldn't see any reason why he acted the way he did in school,

"It would be nice if we could still be friends at school instead of pretending that you hate my guts," You mumbled as you watched him, he was sitting on the floor in front of your dresser, knees pulled into his chest as he listened to the party that was going on downstairs for your mother. The two of you were supposed to be doing the summer reading but your head was starting to pound with all of the new information and Jungkook was struggling with his Astronomy textbook.

"I can't...If I did that-"

"They would all hate you and you would feel like an outsider in your own wizarding house," You repeated what he had to you over a thousand times back to him in a mocking tone and he sighed looking at you, he never meant to hurt you when you were in school. It was all just supposed to be a joke but this time it had gone too far, joking about Cedric was one of the worst things he could have possibly done. Jungkook had known how much you and Cedric liked one another which was one of the reasons he was rooting for Cedric to lose in the tournament he'd never been good at placing his feelings but he knew jealously when he felt it.

"I am sorry about Cedric, he was a good guy." He mumbled not believing what he was saying but he knew he had to be there for you, deep down he had no idea why he was so jealous of you and Cedric all he knew was that he was and it made him feel like he had to be mean to you about the boy you liked.

The room fell into silence as you both listened to the faded music playing downstairs, you never knew what to say when someone bought up the reminder that your ex-boyfriend was dead.

"Will you help me study this year?" He asked out of the blue, making you glance up at him and nod without thinking about it first. The two of you would normally study together in the summer, what difference would it make in the School year.

"I'll make you a deal, we help each other study and I'll keep Pansy and Draco out of your way." He offered, reaching out his hand for you to shake if you accepted the deal he was making.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," You shook on it before sliding off the bed and sitting beside him, where Jungkook struggled in Astronomy you were great and where you struggled in Potions Jungkook was great it was the perfect combination.

"I do keep her away from you but I can't watch her all of the time," He laughed softly as he looked at you but you weren't laughing, you were too angry from the fact that she had been mocking you again when Jungkook had promised to make all of it stop and for the most part it had. He wouldn't torture you as much as he had done for the last few years and he had done his best to keep Pansy out of your face,

"Keep her on a short leash or Dogface will get a punch," You poked his chest as you began walking towards the entrance to your common room, it was no secret to where it was hidden since everyone and their great aunt seemed to know where it was located. Not to mention most Hufflepuffs allowed all of their friends to come and go whenever they wanted,

"I've never been inside the common room," Jungkook hinted as you reached the barrels,

"And you never will," You smirked evilly at him waiting for him to leave but he continued to stand there waiting for you to go inside so he could follow you in but you weren't going to move.

"Jungkook, what are you doing down here?" Taehyung's voice rang out from the top of the hall, he had a tray of what looked like baked goods in his arms as a house-elf pushed him and Jimin out of the kitchen.

"Torturing the house-elves again?" You questioned the two of them, folding your arms over your chest as a blush crept onto the two Hufflepuff's cheeks as they made their way over to you,

"We needed sustenance for our all-night-long study session," Jimin whined as you hummed at him, taking a cake from the top of the tray Taehyung was holding and began eating it waiting for Jungkook to leave once again.

"I'll see you in Divination class," Jungkook whispered as he walked back down the hall backwards, his eyes never leaving yours despite being stared down by Taehyung and Jimin who turned to you as soon as the dark-haired boy was out of their sight.

"Flirting with a Slytherin, how scandalous," Jimin wiggled his eyebrows but you pushed him to the side, knocking on the barrel in the correct order before heading into the common room.

Instantly greeted by the warmth of the fireplace that was burning and the small chatter from everyone in the room, sitting beside Scarlet - one of the girls in your year - was Jin from Ravenclaw as they studied together...Well, it looked like they were staring down into the root of a plant but since they both loved Herbology so much you assumed they were studying.

"That's what it looked like to me," Jimin mumbled as he followed you over to one of the giant armchairs where you sat yourself down and took out your book to prove you were ignoring him.

"You need classes then, there is and never will be something going on between me and Jungkook." You snapped as you looked up at him with piercing eyes as if you were daring him to say something else but he stopped speaking and you went back to reading.

Divination class was normally one of the most laid back subjects you had taken in the school, it was all mostly a bunch of guessing work as well as skillfully avoiding getting asked to demonstrate by keeping your head in the book and avoiding Professor Trelawney's gaze as much as possible but today you could sense something was going to happen.

As soon as you first walked in and saw Pansy on your table you knew there had to be something going on that involved pairs and bonding with other students for different Houses.

"Pansy dear, you go first." You held back a snort at the idea of someone calling Pansy dear, Professor Trelawney was attempting to get everyone to read one another's future. A crystal ball was the only thing standing between the two of you on the table and it was taking everything inside of you not to pick it up and launch it at her face, maybe it would have made an improvement if you had.

"I see that Y/n is..." Pansy began staring into the ball intensely as she squinted a little everyone began to watch her as she dragged on the anticipation of everything,

"Y/n is going to get a "T" in the next potions exam," You scoffed out as everyone else in the room began to erupt in laughter, everyone that was except for you and Jungkook who was staring at you with "I'm sorry" eyes.

"Do you know what I see?" You asked sarcastically as you looked at the ball in front of you and then back up to Pansy who had one eyebrow raised at you,

"That the stupid dogface will fall off her broom in the next quidditch match this weekend," Pansy stood up ready to fight when Professor Trelawney clapped her hands together loudly and asked for the next pair to try and do it properly this time. Meanwhile you and Pansy exchanged looks as she threatened you with her eyes, you knew she was plotting something inside of her mind and you couldn't wait to see what it was. Not.

Later that night when everyone was asleep you'd managed to sneak out of your common room and make your way up to the Astronomy Tower, you would have apparated yourself there but you still didn't have your license thanks to George and Fred distracting you one time and getting you caught between a wall.

"Took you long enough," You hissed playfully to Jungkook as he made his way into the tower and sat beside you, you had a blanket laid out on the floor beside the telescope that was already pointing where it needed to be for him to study Jupiter's moons.

"I set everything up so you don't have to worry about it," You brushed off your legs as you raised up to greet him, he smiled at you. Even in the low light, the smile he was giving you sent your stomach into a whirlwind of butterflies, ever since Jimin had mentioned you flirting with him you'd began to see Jungkook in a different way and the romantic setting of the moon wasn't helping you fight back those feelings.

"You didn't have to, I just need help remembering which is which." He sighed as he walked over to the telescope with you, peaking through it to see that you'd already put it into the perfect position for him to see each moon.

"Which is why I did this, you can focus on remembering...Now, start with the red one."

The studying had gone brilliantly Jungkook was well under his way to remembering the moons and some of the named stars that surrounded it.

"Thank you again...and I'm sorry about Pansy earlier, she's just being a bitch because Draco has started to ignore her," You laughed at the thought of Draco ignoring Pansy, everyone knew how much of a crush she'd had on him for years.

"It's fine, I'm used to her, but you're all going down in that match at the weekend," You teased as you placed a grape into your mouth, laying down on the blanket as you looked out at the night sky, Jungkook laying beside you so close to you that you could feel his chest rising and falling with every breath that he took.

"You're on," He chuckled, turning to look at you as he watched you. He adored the way your eyes would light up whenever you looked up into the sky, the way your eyes seemed to shine no matter what light they were in, it made his head spin and his stomach do flips whenever he caught you.

"Thanks again...For helping me study," He whispered as he watched you waiting for you to look at him,

"Well it's no problem-" You stopped when you realised how close you were to one another, your faces inches away as you stared into his eyes. Both of you so lost at how close you were that you hadn't heard the door to the tower open and Pansy making her way up the staircase,

"I-I want to do something," He whispered to you as he moved a little closer, you stayed perfectly still as if you moved it might scare him away and you licked your lips.

"Go for it," He leant closer to you, his breath touching your lips and making you shiver from how cold it was on your now wet lips. The two of you stayed like that, lips hovering above one another until you finally smashed your lips together, having enough of playing the waiting game. He smiled against your lisp, pressing his body against yours as he wrapped his arms around your body your heartbeat danced as he held you close to him. This was your first real kiss with someone and it had been someone you'd loved all these years without knowing it until right now until his lips were brushing against yours and your heart was trying to leap out of your chest.

Pansy froze as she saw the two of you making out on the floor, she knew Jungkook had been meaning to study and was going to "accidentally" bump into him tonight so she could help him only to find this. While everyone thought she had a crush on Draco it was the opposite, she'd been crushing on Jungkook since the beginning of time but what wasn't there to love about him. Once she saw you weren't going to pull away she stormed off in an attempt to find Snape and lead him to the tower.

The weekend quidditch match had come faster than you expected it to, the week seemed to pass in a blur and Pansy, for the most part, had left you alone. You figured she was training for the match and focussing on that instead of focussing her attention on you so much which had been nice since you were trying hard not to focus on the kiss that had happened with Jungkook. It wasn't that you didn't want to think about it you did but he was insisting on telling everyone you were dating which meant everyone would know you were together. The pro to that would be that the teasing would finally stop and you could be with the man you loved but the con would be that everyone would know, the teasing could increase and you knew your parents would instantly start planning a wedding. Not to mention the two of you were up against one another in a quidditch match and you were both highly competitive against each other.

"Here," George said as he handed you a small weaved basket filled with cupcakes inside,

"What is it?" You laughed thinking it was one of their inventions but George shrugged his shoulders before pointing out the gift tag that was on the side of it, your name was written in cursive writing.

Dear Y/N,

Good luck today, if I kick your ass please don't be too mad, I'll take you out on a date for it...Astronomy tower? ~ JJK

A warm feeling spread through your body as you saw the note from him, quickly throwing it away before any of your teammates could sneak a look.

"Cupcakes for us?" Fred called out loudly gaining the attention of the whole Hufflepuff tent who swarmed around you for the cupcakes, leaving one for you to take as you shook your head.

"In the lead, we have Hufflepuff by 3 points, all we need is for someone to catch the golden snitch," Lee Jordan yelled out as you flew under Jungkook winking at him before doing a turn on your broom and heading over to Fred and George who high fived you.

"Rub it in their faces," George laughed as he watched you steadying yourself, the match had been going on for almost an hour now and you were starting to get a little light-headed but you weren't going to let up, your team needed this win.

"Y/n?" Someone called out but their voice was faint as you felt swear pooling around the top of your head as you tried to focus on what was happening. The match was going on around you but it felt as though you were even there, you felt sick, faint and as if the whole world was upside down on you.

"She's going to fall!" Someone screamed out from the crowds right as your grip loosened on the handle of your broom, suddenly there was a rush of air coming at you as you fell towards the quidditch ground, the cold air cooling you down as you fell freely.

"Catch her!" You knew that was Jungkook which only made you smile as you fell, it was nice that he was showing his caring side for you despite wanting to hide it all those times before whenever you would get hurt in a match. You could still remember the first injury you had,

"You should have been watching where you were flying," Cedric barked at you as he sat beside you in the hospital wing, you were getting your arm stitched up since you'd accidentally flown into one of the stands in the match, cutting your arms and legs open but nothing too bad.

"You okay?!" Jungkook's panicked voice called out as he burst into the hospital wing thinking that you were alone, as soon as he saw Cedric bis blood boiled. If he'd been training you properly you never would have flown into the stands so this was his fault,

"Showing a caring side for a puff?" Cedric laughed sarcastically as he watched Jungkook storm over to you, if there was anyone else in the wing he wouldn't have bothered coming near you but Cedric was Cedric.

"You could have hurt yourself a lot worse than this," He mumbled as he looked at your arm and then into your eyes as his eyes filled with tears at the thought of you being injured even a little.

"Jungkook? Came to torture pipsqueak?" Draco taunted as he opened the door, your arm was dropped and you looked away from Jungkook who instantly began to pretend he didn't care that you were hurt when it was obvious that he did.

"You should have heard the scream she made," Draco laughed loudly as he began to imitate you in front of everyone.

Waking up to a bunch of hushed voices you groaned, your head felt as though you'd been hit over it by a cauldron around fifty times and you were praying Madame Pomfrey wasn't going to give you any more of the disgusting-tasting medicine she had been. You'd been in and out of sleep most of the night and you couldn't remember anything that had happened, it was all a blur from the tent to the pitch.

"She'll be a little groggy but she's okay," Pomfrey announced to whoever was standing beside the bed, your eyes blinked open as you adjusted to the light coming through the windows. Taehyung and Jimin were standing by the bed holding a basket of cakes and fruit and on the other side was a worried looking Jungkook who was still in his quidditch gear despite the match ending yesterday.

"He hasn't left since he brought you in," Jimin smirked as he placed the basket down on the nightstand beside your bed,

"I told you, you liked him." You would have picked up one of the cakes to throw at him as he left with Taehyung if you didn't feel so weak but you rolled over to face Jungkook.

"That stench is you then." You laughed weakly as you sat up in the bed, leaning against the metal frame as you tried to remember what had happened in the match. You hadn't hit your head and there were no curses that you knew of that would do this to you.

"I'll get you some water," Jungkook whispered as he got up and placed a small kiss on your forehead, he headed behind one of the curtains and began pouring a drink in silence when the doors flew open.

"Well if it isn't Little Miss Y/n," Pansy squawked as she sat down beside you on the bed, almost crushing your leg which was still healing from the fall.

"Did you enjoy your cupcakes?" She smirked and that was when it hit you, the cupcakes that had been from Jungkook, It had been the only thing that could have done something so harsh to you but why hadn't it done anything to anyone else who had eaten them? It didn't make sense,

"Don't go looking too confused, if you paid attention in potions you would know why it only worked on you," She quipped, placing a cupcake from Jimin's basket into her pocket. Jungkook's grip on the jug of water tightened from behind the curtain, Pansy had no idea that he was even there and it made his blood boil.

"Stay away from Jungkook and it'll never happen again," She told you as she got back up ready to leave when she was suddenly thrown against the wall by a blast of blue coming from Jungkook's wand.

"Kookie!" You gasped out as he walked over to her, pinning her to the wall by her robes as he stared deep into her eyes,

"Don't come near her, don't even breathe in her direction! If I even find out that you so much as glanced at her I will kill you." He pushed her a little before stepping away,

"She's an ugly, good for nothing loser and I will kill her-" You flinched at the thought of her trying to kill you and it didn't go unnoticed by Jungkook. Before Pansy could continue on her mouth was suddenly zipped shut and you froze looking at Jungkook who shook his head,

"You insulted her, threatened her and made her flinch...I won't forget that and neither will my parents." He whispered as she shuddered, walking away from him. He knew how much his parents meant to her since they were some of the most well-known wizards in the community and she so desperately sought their approval.

"You're intimidating when you want to be," You laughed softly as he walked back over to you, running his hand over your cheek and smiling to himself.

"I have to protect those I care about," He whispered before leaning down and kissing you once again. Your heart skipping a beat as soon as your lips connected but just as soon as it started it was over, he pulled back and made a disgusted face,

"Pumpkin juice," You laughed as you realised he could probably taste the medicine you had been having since the night before.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @innersooya @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts imagine #bts imagines #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines

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mavda · 3 years ago

Text

Beast Tamers

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) | Ch.7(1) | Ch.7(2) | Ch.7(3) | Ch.7(4) | Ch.7(5) | Ch.8(1) | Ch.8(2) | Ch.8(3) | Ch.9(1) | Ch.9(2) | Ch.9(3) |

Ch.9: No lies (4)

"Ah, you f-felt that?"

Naruto stares at Hinata's round belly, where his hand covers her whole abdomen.

"I did," he whispers. Still amazed at the movement going inside Hinata's body, at their baby moving.

Hinata covers his hand with hers, moves it to the side of her stomach. "I think next is h-here."

And she is correct. Naruto feels a kick in his hand a few seconds after, and he can feel in his chest something he can't explain yet. He crouches down and presses his lips to Hinata's pregnant belly. "Hello, baby."

She giggles and rests her hand on his hair. In love with him and the way he loves their child already.

"So, dizziness and nosebleeds, is that all?"

Naruto rests his ear on her stomach and Hinata ends up resting her hands on his arms. “N-nosebleeds sometimes, yes.”

Naruto nods and hears her heartbeat against his ear. Her hand on his hair, her fingers sometimes tracing his whiskers. He closes his eyes and lets silence reign for a few seconds, before remembering something he wanted to talk to her about. “I’ve seen you taking your walks with Neji a lot these past few days.”

Her fingers stop for less than a second, and Naruto makes it as if nothing happened.

“I h-have asked him t-to accompany me on my s-strolls.”

Which Naruto knows, because Sai has shared as much, but the question remains, “I thought you didn’t have that great of a relationship with him.” He remains on the floor, with his head on her, doing his best not to overwhelm her.

Hinata keeps quiet a second, but Naruto knows it is her putting her thoughts in order as her fingers trace absent-minded patterns across his cheek.

“I… we have b-been talking about a lot of th-things. It’s been f-fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Uhm, we d-didn’t have the best ch-childhoods, I think.” Her voice gets lower, her breathing more controlled, “I… always wanted a r-relationship with him, I b-believe. He was the only one who… he w-was the only one who didn’t seem to h-hate me back then.”

Naruto raises his head, sits with his legs crossed facing her. Hinata looks at her hands, and doesn’t seem to want to look Naruto in the eyes. “He would do th-things that s-seemed to be for me, but then h-have the perfect excuse as to w-why do it for my f-father, so I thought… I w-wondered, you know, am I just a n-nuisance to him as w-well?”

Her voice is quiet, “I n-never knew… I couldn’t k-know, he barely talked b-back then,” she chuckles. Naruto offers his hand, touches hers with the softest of touches, and Hinata reciprocates, grabs his hand between hers. She is not crying. “It’s b-been good, talking to h-him. S-Sharing stories… having- h-having a relationship.”

Hinata fears tears will follow next, so she bites her lip. She knew she wanted to have a relationship with her cousin for a long time. For longer than a long time. He was the only thing keeping her from losing herself in screams and self-pity, he showed her the barest of kindness, the barest of encouragement and yet she treasured them, because that’s what they were in that house. Treasures. Tiny and yet important.

She would have loved to receive more.

And so she followed him. Bothered him. Looked for him for the things no one else would give her. And he did sometimes, and then he didn’t most times. And she still wonders whether it was duty or love or pity or a sense of at least being better off than her…

They still have yet to talk about the harsh stuff. They still have to talk about their actual relationship. Hinata yearns and fears that moment, but at least now… at least now she has a relationship with a person she holds so dear -against all odds-, a person she is ashamed to hold in such regards, and yet…

She is so happy she can walk with Neji and talk about the weather without worrying about what’s gonna appear as they turn the next corner, about the people walking around them, about what’s going to be reported back to her father, about the disgusted face her father would give her as she came ba-

“I’m glad, then.” Naruto’s warm hand brings her out of her trance, as he gets closer and searches for her eyes, as his hands move up and down her arms, as he brings her in for a hug. She feels herself relax, lays her head on his shoulder and lets him pamper her.

“Thanks, for… for t-taking care of him, t-too.”

Naruto remembers Neji’s silent work, as he asked for his help when Hiashi’s letter first came. The way he read the letter, explained what he thought all of this meant without even asking for them to be alone, his excellent work and his disposition. Never questioning Naruto, asking for permission to voice his opinions.

Nothing like the rude man who had faced him that first time.

Naruto tries to connect the rude man with the eager cousin. The cold asshole with the warm family member. But maybe none of that is important, because what he cares about is that his wife was able to make it this far with his… help.

And thanks to that she is with him now, and Neji has shown nothing but his best behavior. So Naruto puts his worries to the side, “I love you.”

Hinata chuckles as she buries her face in Naruto’s shoulder. Nothing matters. Nothing matters because Naruto is here.

Naruto wonders whether he should share with her his godfather’s news before his father arrives. But what would he say? And what would she say, too?

No answer is enough to let him relax, so he does the next best thing. He peppers kisses all over his wife’s face, filling the room with their laughs. And he remains quiet.

⁂⁂⁂

Minato arrives at the compound with Mito in tow and they stop in their tracks as they watch Jiraiya taking a stroll through the gardens with Naruto and Hinata.

Minato bolts towards his master, with a flustered Mito following behind.

“Master!”

“Oh, calm down, calm down, I’m not going anywhere!”

Jiraiya is the one to bring the excitement down, with laughs and pats in the back that make Minato’s high come down in an instant. There are anxious looks coming and going between Minato and Mito that Hinata catches but knows not how to feel about.

Naruto remains impassive and he is the one to offer they go and find a private room in which to talk.

Hinata feels her chest tighten slightly, and although in any other time Naruto’s tranquil attitude would help her calm herself, this time, she grows nervous.

Jiraiya starts to tell of his travels -as he did before with Naruto and Hinata-, and it is with a mixture of interest and obvious haste that Minato asks questions. He wants to know, but he also doesn’t care about anything at all but whatever information can help Naruto. And yet he fears to hear no new information at all, or anything worthwhile.

Lady Mito remains quiet, staring at Jiraiya with her eyes shining in anticipation. Jiraiya is stuck between a rock and a hard place. He tries to gauge the room’s ambience, tries to control the emotions that reach him and he ends up anchoring himself in Naruto.

Naruto and his tight smile.

Naruto and his resigned attitude. Out of anyone in this room, he knows what will follow. It’s what always follows whenever Jiraiya comes back, pleas and requests he never answers.

He can never answer them.

And now, although Jiraiya should feel accomplished and happy, although his travels have at long last brought forth an answer, he dreads talking about it.

He knows what comes next. And Naruto stares at him, without blinking. Waiting to remain quiet and bear the sure goading that will follow.

“What?” Minato catches on, and his eyes travel from his son to his master. “What’s going on?”

“So,” Jiraiya starts, “good news first, I learned of a technique that allows one to… uh, gather energy from the environment and replenish the user’s.”

He looks around, with a face that asks for some smiles or positive feedback. Hinata gives him a faint smile and Jiraiya smiles back. She doesn’t know what this is about.

“And?” Minato urges, and whatever ambience Jiraiya had been able to bring into the room disappears in a second.

“You know, that means that the Beast will take less of a toll on Naruto’s body.”

“Good, then why aren’t you as excited?”

“It’s… you gather energy from the environment but it asks for the user to become one with nature, so it entails extreme meditation and barely moving a muscle-”

“I could do that,” chimes in Naruto.

Jiraiya nods to him, “Good, good, it will help. But, uh, I’m not as excited because from what I could tell from the quick check I did on Naruto, well…”

“It took a toll, right?” Minato hates the idea, but Naruto just came out of a forced tearing of the seal. For him to come out of it unscathed is just, idealistic. “The forced tearing of the seal took a toll on Naruto’s body that you can’t fix, right?”

“Good news is, it can be fixed, in fact, I think it will be fixed if he adds this new technique. Bad news is just-”

“We’re back on square one,” Naruto finishes.

Lady Mito makes fist of her hands. Naruto’s life could have been extended… if none of this would have happened. But it did.

At least… at least they’re on square one…

At least they are back where they were before.

Lady Mito feels her emotions going unchecked and raises her head to compose herself. But then sees Jiraiya’s eyes locked on Naruto’s and her heart squeezes. “What is it?”

Naruto’s eyes flash to her, almost ashamed, and she fears, anguishes over what’s to come.

“Well,” Jiraiya starts again. Minato keeps his eyes glued to the floor. “Do you remember what we talked about, long ago?”

Lady Mito tilts her head. They have talked about so many a thing regarding Naruto’s seal. Each time with a little more urgency. “Would you mind refreshing my memory?”

Jiraiya lets out a heavy sigh and then blurts out everything all at once, “Back then we surmised that the Beast’s chakra seeping out of Naruto for so long meant we could in turn add something to the seal that could, you know, help with that, and if Naruto’s body didn’t have to worry about that, then, in turn, it may send resources to keep himself alive instead of sealing the Beast.”

Lady Mito doesn’t ask. Fears the answer.

“Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

“It’s done.”

Naruto doesn’t move a muscle and the euphoria of having something so tangible in front of her is enough to send Lady Mito in a spiral of anger towards the stubbornness of her grandson.

“Does that,” she tempers her exhilaration, “does that mean that Naruto would have a normal… normal lifespan?”

“If he undergoes the procedure then he will have a longer life compared to what we expected before, yes.”

All eyes fall on Naruto. His eyes fixed on his godfather.

“If I undergo the procedure, will I be able to use the Beast’s chakra as usual?”

“No.”

Naruto evades everyone’s eyes, stares to the floor for a second and then answers, “then it’s not an option.”

Jiraiya is the only one who seems to accept this answer. As Minato and Lady Mito open their mouths trying to find anything to say, but keeping quiet in hopes that the other would talk first.

HInata looks at everyone in turns, her last glance at Naruto's profile, whose jaw is tight. And then she stares at the floor. Quiet.

“Why not?” says Minato, and Lady Mito seems to want to drill a hole in Naruto’s mind in search of an answer.

“We have just been attacked by a clan that was thought to be dead, we are now under unprecedented times with a truce between Beast Tamers and- hell, even if we were under normal circumstances it doesn’t make sense for us to give away our best card against enemies.”

“We can fight without your Beast. We can put up a fight.”

“Putting up a fight doesn’t sound that promising, dad, sorry.”

“We can fight without your Beast, Naruto.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“We have better guards and patrols and people on our side, and Shikamaru-”

“I remember an attack happening and reaching the inner compound a year and a half ago.”

“Even without the Beast you could have handled it.”

“But what if I couldn’t?”

“If you’re going to go down that way, then what, are you going to keep that damned Beast to protect us from even the weakest of enemies? You’d rather obliterate whoever comes than to try to keep yourself-”

“Listen,” Naruto presses his hand forward, stares his father down, “I am in charge of protecting this clan, and I will do that. If that means keeping this damned Beast inside of me then I will.”

“Naruto-”

“Dad. Even you can’t be sure of what’s to come now. Who would have thought an Uchiha would appear? How long till a clan breaks the truce between Beast Tamers? How long till a bunch of clans come together and try an attack?”

Hinata feels her chest being pressed down, but does her best not to lose her composure. She wishes Naruto’s answers weren’t so obvious, weren’t so factual, she wishes he were more selfish or weaker. But he remains unfazed, unflinching, and so Hinata bites down whatever tries to come out of her.

“Maybe further down the road, dad… maybe, when we can be more sure of what’s to come.”

Lies, though. Because Naruto knows enemies won’t stop appearing, and not even Shikamaru is able to come down with predictions for the future that are without a surprise. But Naruto knows the people in this room worry for him, so his tough persona crumbles down a little. Just a little, just a second.

“Further down the road won’t give you as much time, son…”

“I know… I know.”

Jiraiya believes some ripples will turn up regarding this matter, but the thick of it is now dealt with. He believes that if Minato can’t change Naruto’s opinion, then it’s not even worth it for him to try. He believes everyone in the room thinks that Minato is their last resort, maybe Naruto’s wife, but seeing her biting her lip and looking like talking is the harshest of tasks is enough to realize she won’t add on the issue.

But then Lady Mito speaks.

“If we could talk with our people and improve our security?”

“Grandma Mito…”

“If we could get all of this approved by Shikamaru? I know how much you trust him, we would get his approval first, and then-”

“Grandma Mito.”

The room is silent, and then Naruto closes his eyes in pain, “Please, just, not now.”

Lady Mito is shaken, “We have the chance to recover so much time, Naruto.”

“I know.”

“You could live till- till you’re 50, 52 maybe. Naruto, this is such a gift.”

“We can’t now. If we are under attack and I can’t use my powers as usual it could mean-”

“We would protect the clan!”

“So what? You know how much the Nine-Tails chakra means in a fight, jeez, you know why whole ass clans try to get their hands on the Beasts, it’s because we win wars.”

“We are not under war.”

“We are not under war now, yes. Am I really the only one worried about the Uchiha’s going around? The same ones that were able to knock me out by looking at my eyes?”

“Now everyone is preparing countermeasures, you are ready to fight them again-”

“Am I, though? What if I’m not?”

Lady Mito snarls, “Then we would step up.”

“And then a bunch of my people die. No, thanks.”

“Because now only you would die, right?”

Lady Mito feels white hot rage filling her. Because all of this could have been dealt with if she had been here when her daughter was attacked. And then she could have spared her grandson from this. All of this. But she wasn’t here. She is never here. And she hates it, and she hates it, and she hates it. She is desperate. She is guilty. She wants to cling to Naruto’s robes and beg and plead and cry and whine and never let go until he decides he is more important than them.

She wants him to want to stay here.

She lays eyes on Hinata, and Naruto puts his arm in front of her, his other hand pointing at her, “Don’t you dare.”

She is hurt. She is hurt and she is trying to come up with any kind of excuse that can shake her grandson’s resolve even a little. Enough to make his dumb stubborness crumble. She means to bring Hinata into the discussion, but Naruto shows his fangs too, and now Lady Mito wants to bawl.

See? See how much you care? So her brain focuses on this tiny little bit of hope, and doesn’t think too much about it. It’s a fear of hers, too. It’s something she would never say out loud, because it’s a low blow. Something she regrets the moment it comes out of her mouth.

“Don’t you want to see your child grow?”

She freezes the second after, and she can feel Minato’s eyes on her.

Naruto’s blue eyes open wide, impossibly so. He’s hurt and ashamed and his resolve does crumble. She can see that. He stares a second and she thinks he is going to cry.

But he whips his head the other way, and leaves the room in haste.

Nobody moves a muscle and Lady Mito whispers after a few seconds, “I’m sorry.”

But nobody blames her. They can’t.

It’s Hinata that stands then, with her hand on her belly.

“Hinata…,” starts Lady Mito, but Hinata looks at her with empathy in her eyes.

“It’s o-okay.”

She follows after Naruto and finds him near a flower patch, under a tree. He stands there, but doesn’t let his weight rest on the trunk.

He feels her before she can say anything.

“Just give me a minute, love.”

But she can’t. Not now. So she keeps on walking and stops just behind him. Her hand to his back.

“Please.”

“N-Naruto.”

He doesn’t move.

“Naruto.”

He turns to her, and his eyes shine. His hair looks blonder than ever under the sunlight and he’s close to tears. He opens his mouth, trying to justify his actions, lest Hinata think he doesn’t actually care about her, about their child.

But he doesn’t get to say anything, because Hinata brings her hand to his face, to his whisker marks. She drags her fingers along, “I-It’s okay,” she whispers.

And Naruto breaks.

His tears fall and his lip trembles, and it’s not until Hinata brings him into her that he buries his face on her shoulder and shudders as he gasps for air.

“It’s okay.”

#naruto #naruhina #Naruto Uzumaki #Hinata Hyuga #uzumaki naruto #hyuga hinata #fanfiction #fanfic #beast tamers #ch.9 #part 4 #Mito just says things sometimes out of desperation you know #ಥ_ಥ #she just cares too much #and feels super guilty about everything all the time #have a great one!!#see you next week #(❁´◡`❁)

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cappsikle · 4 years ago

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just a bunch of fools (in love) // george weasley

Request: omg !!! could you please do a continuation for “just a bunch of fools” where george asks reader to marry him 🥺🥺🥺 <3

read the first part here!

Pairing: george weasley x reader

Summary: the world seems so dark and heavy, but george doesn’t want to do this with anyone but you

Warnings: nope!

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I’m soooo sorry that this took so long! I had major writer’s block I just hope you like it!

(I’m just gonna say it now, the ending is trash because I just wanted to get it out for you, I’m so sorry >_<)

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

-------

Everyone at the Burrow was tense, all still dealing with the aftermath of the attack at the wedding. That was also the night Harry, Ron and Hermione left, along with Bill and Fluer who created a safe house for themselves and members of the Order. So, in the end, it was only you, the twins, ginny, Molly and Arthur who remained at the Burrow until it was time to move to a safer location. No one really spoke to each other, not being able to find the words. What exactly can you say that will make the situation better? The minister of magic was dead, and the ministry had been taken over. You were struggling to grasp anything that resembled hope, it managing to just slip through your fingers.

Your heart was heavy, dread settling into the pit of your stomach as you sat on the couch in front of the fire. Everyone else had retired to bed, but you just couldn’t sleep, so instead you left George in his bed to sit down and think. Though in hindsight, thinking probably wasn’t the best thing you could do, as you did tend to overthink. What was going to happen next? Where would you go? Are Harry and the others ok? The deeper you went into your thoughts, the more unaware you became of your surroundings, which resulted in you practically jumping out of your skin when you felt a pair of hands over your shoulders.

“shit!” you jumped up from the couch, a hand over your chest as you tried to tame your rapidly racing heart, “George, you scared me!”

“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to,” you nodded slowly and sat back down, George following and sitting next to you, “what are you doing up so late anyway?”

You shrugged your shoulders, bringing your knees up to your chest and placing your chin in the little divot between them. “just couldn't sleep, yakow... with everything going on.” George nodded his head in understanding, pursing his lips as he got lost in thought. He could see the toll the war had taken on you, effecting your ability to eat and sleep normally. He just wished he knew what to do or say that could make you feel better, but George too was struggling to see the light at the end of this very long and very dark tunnel.

“Would you like something to drink? A cup of tea, maybe?”

You smile sweetly at him and nodded gently, “that would be nice, thank you.” you leaned up and gently placed a kiss to his lips as he rose from his seat, making his way to the kitchen.

Putting the kettle to boil, George looked at you from his place at the kitchen, just taking the time to admire you and your features. From the way your hair fell into your eyes, soft from the light of the fire and the evident tiredness to the little dimple only present on your right cheek even from the smallest of movements from your tempting lips. If there was one thing George knew for sure, it was that in a time where the world was batshit crazy, you were the one that gave him hope for a better future, a future together. That's when he got the idea.

As if electrocuted from a spark, George raced off upstairs towards his room, although he was very careful not to make any noise that would wake his sleeping family. Practically overflowing with nerves and excitement, George ever-so-carefully pushed his door open, squeezing in and tiptoeing to avoid waking up Fred. He walked over to his bedside table and grabbed the little velvet box sitting in the drawer, turning it over in his hands. Was he really about to do this? Was he sure that this is something you’d want, to get engaged right in the middle of a war?

“So, you’re finally going to do it?” George swore his heart literally jumped out of his chest at the sound of his twin’s tired and barely-awake voice, fumbling with the box as it almost fell out of his grasp. He turned around to face Fred sitting up on the bed, a tired and lazy smirk on his lips.

“Christ, mate! Warn a guy next time, will you?” Fred chuckled at his brother’s frightened state before his eyes trailed down towards what was in George’s hands.

“I said, are you finally going to do it?” George looked down as well, his lips twitching to a small smile at the sight.

“Yeah, I think I am,”

“Are you sure now of all times is the best idea?”

George looked up at his twin, his other half, as he mulled over his words whilst getting up to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. “Look, mate, I’m not sure what’s going to happen over the next few months, but I can’t bear the thought of going through this without the promise that we’ll be together. I love her, more than anything,” Fred looked at his brother, the one person he could count on no matter what, and the solemn look that took over his face. No matter what, he would support his brother’s decision and stand by him with anything, he only wanted to see his brother happy, and he knew that you were the person to make it happy.

Fred nudged George’s shoulder with his elbow, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Look, whatever you do, I support you, and everyone else will too”

George’s face lifted up a bit, grateful for his brother’s words. “I just hope I don’t get rejected,” he said in a joking manner, but there was a hint of seriousness in his voice. What if you do rejected him? Surely you wouldn’t, he hoped.

“I can say with a hundred percent certainty that you will not. You lot are perfect for each other.”

“Thanks, mate.” George smiled up his twin, feeling the energy return with a newfound excitement from his twin’s encouraging words.

“Don’t mention it. Now hurry up and go down there, you left the poor thing hangin’”

George jumped up from the bed, rushing to get downstairs back to you with the box held tightly in his hand. You smiled when you saw George’s lanky figure come back down the steps, dressed in his plaid pajama pants and a plain t-shirt. Noticing George practically bouncing on the spot, you get up from your position on the couch and walk over to him, curious. “What’s got you jumping about the place? You’re basically vibrating,” you chuckled up at him, but your smile fell as you noticed nerves pinching his face, “y’lright, love?”

Just when George thought he couldn’t possibly fall any more in love with you, he was proven wrong upon seeing your concerned face for something as miniscule as feeling nervous. “Y-yeah, ‘m alright,” George looked down at his feet sheepishly, thankful you hadn’t noticed that he was very visibly hiding something behind his back. “Why don’t you come outside with me?”

“Outside? What for?” George raised his head as a sly smirk snaked its way across his lips.

“C’mon, I’ll make it worth your while.” with that, George grabbed your hand and took you through the back door, the light from the inside spilling out to the chilly air.

“George, what’s going on?” you ask curiously, a tint of worry in your voice. You cross your arms over your chest in a futile attempt at warding off the breeze, goosebumps rising on your exposed skin. The cold seemed to have melted away, however, when George grabbed one of your hands from your chest and sunk himself down onto one knee, his other hand still behind his back.

He knew in the grand scheme of things, now was probably a rubbish time to do something like this, but he wanted to have that security that you’d still be his after everything is over. You were confused, what was he doing? He couldn’t be doing... that... right?

“(Y/N) …” George started, already feeling his start emotions catch up to him. “You are... the best thing that could ever have happened to me. I never thought that in a million years I could have found someone to be like you. Someone so kind, so passionate and so loving, someone willing to do anything and everything to protect those you love without a second thought...”

George stopped his little speech to gather his thoughts and keep himself from crying. All the while you’re standing there in complete shock. How long had he been planning to do this? You knew what you wanted to say, heck you probably would’ve even said it two years ago. You knew George was who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, and you would be lying if you hadn’t had dreamt this exact scenario multiple times.

“I remember when we first met at Kings Cross in our third year, where I ran into you and knocked you off of your feet and said some stupid pick-up-line as a failed attempt of an apology... and the rest is history. I know now isn’t the most ideal time to be doing something like this, being in the middle of a war and all, but maybe it’s because of it that now is a perfect time...” George trailed off with a chuckle, gripping your hand tighter.

Your hand shook in his as he brought the small box out from behind his back, opening it up to reveal a simple gold band with a small diamond in the middle, but you barely spared it a glance. You were entranced by George’s eyes, filled with so much love and emotion. You couldn’t believe this was happening right now. George was actually asking you to marry him. With tears in his eyes and his voice caught in his throat, he asked the final question.

“Will you, my best friend, my soulmate, do me the absolute honor of marrying me?”

You nodded your head excessively, tears shamelessly spilling from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. You could barely speak, your words stuck in your throat as you choked up. So instead you flung your arms around his neck, bringing your lips close to his ear and spoke the next words with as much love adoration as you could.

“Yes.”

----------

yikes so that ending was very trash but it’s ok because our baby isn’t. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed that!! Once I got passed the writers block it was enjoyable to write!

As always my requests are open so please don’t be shy!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

- Mills <3

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #anon request #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fluff #harry potter #harry potter imagine #oneshot #george weasley oneshot #fred weasley one shot

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imaginesandinserts · 4 years ago

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Irreverent Pt. 4 - Interview

Title: Irreverent Pt. 4 - Roundtable Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: T (Teen) Words: 3772

Irreverent Series Masterlist

You got up in the morning with a pit of dread blooming in your stomach. The night before had been a lot of tossing and turning with minimal sleep. Today was it, make or break.

Getting ready and out the door was a breeze, as you'd planned this morning to the very last detail, leaving absolutely nothing to chance. As you exited the hotel and caught a cab to Quantico, you ran through the game plan over and over in your head. There was no longer any time to second guess the approach. You had done your research and you had thought this through. At the end of it, your goal was to make an impression. You quickly stifled the small voice in your head that warned you that it was a risky approach and could blow up in your face. It had to work. It just had to.

Entering the building and getting your visitors credential was easy - you were expected. As you walked towards the elevators, you saw the doors opening and your classmates Charlotte and Elliot walked out together. You were unsurprised to see Charlotte there - she was accomplished and well spoken with a good head on her shoulders. You were surprised to see Elliot who was known to be a bit of a showboat but you liked him just the same. You smiled at them both as you quickly grabbed the doors before they closed on you.

As you exited the elevator, you caught sight of Erin Strauss walking towards you. You had met Strauss before when she had come to speak to your class about her team and the BAU's success. After her speech, you'd gone up and introduced yourself and spoken with her briefly. Later that week, you'd gotten a call from her assistant, asking you to attend a Women in the FBI Mentorship event where she spoke at length of the value of female mentorship. You had since attended a couple of those events and she had made small talk with you at each one. You had your suspicions regarding her interest in you, but seeing as she was the Section Chief of the BAU, you made sure to always show her the utmost respect and admiration.

"Y/N! It's so good to see you" Strauss said as you approached one another. "I am so glad Aaron chose to interview you."

"Chief Strauss, thank you so much. I'm sure that you had at least something to do with that," you responded, knowing she'd react well to that kind of adulation.

"Oh please, I just nudged along the best of the best. But you should know, every single member of that team chose to interview you. And you're the only one who got every single vote."

Taken aback, you quickly smiled and thanked her once again as she pointed you in the direction of the conference room. They'd all chosen to interview you. That definitely shifted some of the power in your favor. You quickly suppressed a satisfied smile and knocked on the door where the entire team was waiting for the final candidate.

"Come in." You heard a deep voice from behind the door, prompting you to turn the knob and say a final prayer hoping you wouldn't stumble over your words.

Seven pairs of eyes looked at you as you entered, watching your every move.

"Good morning," you smiled and looked around, making eye contact with everyone there. "Thank you for inviting me to interview with your team. It is an honor."

"Please have a seat Ms. L/N," The dark haired man - whom you recognized as SSA Aaron Hotchner - pointed you to a chair at one end of the large table. "Before we begin, I am SSA Hotchner, these are SAs Morgan, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid," he pointed to each one, prompting you to recall their faces from the extensive research you had done on this team. You smiled at them each in turn, which they returned, Agent Morgan adding in a little wave to his greeting.

"To my right is SSA David Rossi," Agent Rossi looked just like the pictures on his book jacket covers. "And finally this is our media liaison, Agent Jennifer Jareau and Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia."

"It's lovely to meet all of you," you said as you settled in, trying to keep your heart from beating out of its chest. Agent Hotchner was more intimidating in person. His deep gravelly voice in the introductions matched what you had learned of him - he was astute, intelligent, and unlikely to tolerate any antics. His large frame filled the chair he was seated in, his legs crossed one over the other. You swallowed and tried to maintain your composure and stay the course.

Agent Hotchner continued, "As you might know, the BAU has not conducted panel interviews in the past. However, we are trying to grow and adapt ourselves to suit the needs of the team's best interests and so we want to ensure that anyone who is selected meets the entire team prior to a final decision." You nodded along. Panel interviews were becoming the norm a lot of places and while government is usually last to adapt, you were glad to see that the team culture seemed to be welcoming and open to flexibility. Agent Hotchner continued to explain the process, "So, due to that, the team has collectively come to the decision that the best way to assess a profiler is to have them actually do a profile. We profile UnSubs every day but doing it well is rooted in a base of self awareness." He paused and looked to see if you understood. You had an idea of where this was headed, but he confirmed it next, "So, Ms. L/N, profile yourself for us please."

You saw a smirk on Agent Prentiss's face that arguably had been there the second you entered the room. You looked around as they all waited for you to speak. You had to think fast.

"I ran into Chief Strauss on my way to the interview today," you began. It wasn't what they'd expected and you knew you immediately had everyone's attention. "She let slip that the team had voted on whom to interview. She also mentioned that I was the only person you'd all chosen."

You looked across the table and saw Dr. Reid staring at you with curiosity and ascertained that both of your predecessors had chosen the more straightforward manner of answering this question.

Both Agents Hotchner and Rossi looked at you with nothing betraying their thoughts, while the rest of the team either mirrored Dr. Reid's curiosity or looked just a little thrown off.

You recalled all of your research and meticulous notes on every single person in that room, and continued on. "Agent Garcia," you addressed the spunky looking Technical Analyst and smiled. "In my application and background check, you noted that growing up I moved every couple of years and I attended a new school each time. You saw someone who never had a home. For you this team is your family and your home. You all trust and respect one another and you felt like I'd most benefit from having this team - this family - in my life." you paused as Penelope gazed at you in some small amount of wonder. "You're probably right about that."

"H-How," she began, but stopped when Agent Rossi slightly lifted his hand, indicating you to continue.

You swallowed and took another deep breath, one down, six to go. "Dr. Reid," you turned and made eye contact with the youngest member of the team who was now studying you much more carefully, "My final year of college I worked under Professor Ludwig and published a paper in the Journal of Criminal Psychology. He forwarded my initial draft to you and asked your opinion on it and you responded with insight that helped shape the final experiment design greatly. Thank you." You saw a flicker of recognition on Dr. Reid's face as he realized that the anonymous paper he'd edited had been yours. "When you looked at my application, you saw my degrees, my certificates, and my Mensa membership and recognized a kindred spirit. You'd also like to no longer be the youngest on the team and it helps that I'm on the younger end of people who are usually considered to join the BAU. Actually, I'm pretty sure you also selected Elliot and Charlotte for the exact same reason." You allowed yourself to let out a small breath of a laugh, before bestowing your best smile on the Doctor. His slightly reddened cheeks bolstered you to continue on.

As you switched your gaze from Dr. Reid to focus on Agent Morgan, your eyes swept past Agent Rossi who seemed - if you weren't mistaken - amused. His poker face now had the hint of a smirk. You didn't dare look at Agent Hotchner for fear that one look at his stern face would cause you to stutter and lose steam.

"Agent Morgan, you could care less about academic accomplishments, despite being relatively accomplished yourself." The large man gave you a warm smile, telling you that you were right on the mark. "For you it is all about who has your back out in the field. I'm at the top in the academy for all field evaluations. You also stalked my online profiles with Agent Garcia - who is your best friend - and saw that I'm a Bears fan. That's what sealed the deal for you." He let out a laugh at that - a real one - and exchanged a look with Agent Garcia that was loaded with we are going to talk about THIS later.

Halfway through. Almost there. You had to remind yourself to keep going down the path you'd chosen. There was no way Charlotte Richards had turned the tables on the BAU team. Maybe she's smarter than you though. Yeah - definitely smarter than you if the pindrop silence in the aftermath of Agent Morgan's laugh was anything to go off of.

"Agent Jareau, " you turned your attention to the pretty media liaison and smiled kindly, which she returned. You would feel bad about this one, unsure of how she saw her place in the team, but you were determined to see this through to the end now. " Forgive me, but, you hesitated in giving your opinion. It is clear that you read through every application at least twice, combing them for the details." You took a breath, and met Agent Jareau's startled gaze. "You tried to find the humanity behind everyone's carefully curated headshot. What caught your eye was that I was turned down by the CIA prior to applying to the FBI." You felt bad about the assessment you were delivering and the uncomfortably tense silence in the room did nothing to put you at ease. To soften the blow, you continued onwards. "It didn't matter as much to everyone else but it mattered to you because you know how it feels to be made to feel as though you aren't good enough. You believe in second chances and you value fairness. You thought it was only fair to give me a shot."

You swallowed again and looked for a sign that Agent Jareau now hated your guts for exposing vulnerabilities in front of her coworkers. Sure she works with profilers, but who enjoys having their insecurities laid bare that way? Agent Jareau surprised you however. She smiled and her kind eyes told you that it was alright. You were doing what you had to. "Call me JJ" she told you, before gesturing at you to keep going.

As you turned to Agent Prentiss, you saw her smirk turn into what could only be categorized as a stare down. She was daring you to guess why she picked you. She was hoping you would be wrong. You knew Emily Prentiss by reputation, and so squaring your shoulders once more, you continued. "We've led similar lives, Agent Prentiss, - moving around at the whims of our parents career. You take a great amount of pride in having accomplished all that you have without your mother's influence. You don't see us as being the same though." You paused and gauged her reaction, but she had schooled her face to betray nothing. "You think I've leaned on my father's role and title. Ultimately, you're competitive. You want to feel like you're one of the few who made it out of the diplobrat lifestyle all on your own. You picked me not because you actually care to have me on the team but because you wanted to pick me apart in person and prove to yourself that you're still the only one who did it all by herself. " You had shot out the last bit, knowing it would hit the mark in knocking her down just a peg. You were about to make enemies before you were even hired - of that you were certain.

"Hotch, this is ridiculous," Agent Prentiss exclaimed. "She's not answering the question."

"Oh come on Prentiss," Agent Morgan piped in, before either Agents Rossi or Hotch could say something. "You're just pissed because she got you exactly." God, it was good to have him in your corner.

"Emily," Dr. Reid's soft voice was in stark contrast to Agent Morgan's boisterous one. His hand settled on her shoulder and she allowed him to calm her down.

Agent Hotchner was conspicuously silent. His right arm framed his face as he contemplated you. His face still betrayed nothing, but finally meeting his gaze made the pit of dread in your stomach loosen just a bit. Why - you couldn't possibly explain it.

After Agent Prentiss's interruption, you turned to look Agent Rossi dead in the eye. He would be perhaps the easiest. You had no qualms about him or his reaction. You smirked and said, "You thought I was attractive." He gave you a surprised look. Bet he didn't think you'd call him out on that. "You're not embarrassed that I called you out on that in front of the entire team. You value loyalty and you know my father. And you're about to prove Agent Prentiss's belief that I have things handed to me because of my father's influence. I hope you won't do me any more favors because of my last name." You'd known Rossi knew your father. They were acquaintances that ran in the same larger circles and there was some respect that is bought between old men in cigar cubs that you'd never be able to comprehend.

"You're right, you are attractive and I do feel an obligation to give an old friend's kid a leg up." He told you, fixing you with a look that put you slightly on edge in anticipation of what was to come. "But, I think after this performance so far, I don't exactly regret sticking to my loyalties." You didn't know how to react to that, but his encouragin smile at the end helped you in getting your wits about you for the grand finale.

You slowly turned to face Agent Hotchner who had shifted slightly and now was turned more closely towards you. There was something in his dark brown eyes that radiated understanding. Perhaps a callback to his prosecutor days where he recognized the technique of knowing more and talking more to throw your opponent off balance.

Your voice was clear going into the home stretch. "Chief Strauss gave you my resume herself and asked you to consider it. You don't like her interference in how you run your team." Agent Rossi smirked beside him as you said that, and yet Agent Hotchner's face didn't change at all. "While I've been explaining why everyone else chose me, you've been waiting till I got to you so you can prove me wrong. The problem is, you don't know yourself why you chose me."

"Are you sure?" It was the first words he'd spoken since he'd initially explained the process. He was checking to see if you were bluffing. You looked him right in the face, eyes blazing, "Yes."

But you weren't done. Not yet. "So,” you barreled onwards, “instead of speculating at what I think is your reason for choosing me, let me give you the best reason for why I should be the final pick." You paused for a beat. "I can do this job better than anyone else you've interviewed, and I can prove it. "

He finally uncrossed his legs and leaning in, asked painfully softly, "How?" His voice caused goosebumps to erupt down your arms. Thank goodness you wore long sleeves.

This was it. You were either getting this job or you were about to be arrested and you had no idea which outcome was more likely.

You fixed your gaze to Dr. Reid once again. "Dr. Reid, I've heard some impressive things about your memory. In the past three years the BAU either did a remote consult or went in person to solve three cases - Charles Abbott in Milwaukee, Gabriel Smith in Dallas, and Elliot Roberts in Portland. Would you mind sharing what those three cases have in common?" Dr. Reid shifted in his seat his long arms in front of his body, his hands cradling his head as he thought through your query.

From the corner of your eye you could feel Agent Prentiss's disdain radiating but she was curious. You knew she was intrigued and wanted to know where this was going. After a silence that seemed to stretch hours but was in reality maybe only a minute at most, Dr. Reid spoke, "In terms of crime, victimology, and MO they're all entirely different. The only thing those three cases have in common is that they were solved ultimately due to anonymous tips. The anonymous tipster ended up alluding to or adding a piece to the profile distributed to the public - something that was missed in the initial release. "

At this, you felt the entire room go stiff. They're all profilers and at least some of them have an idea of where this is headed now. They worked those cases and consults.

You smiled and nodded, "Yes, exactly. Now, those cases were spread out and have nothing in common with one another. But Agent Garcia, if you were to pull up the exact phone number associated with the anonymous tip for each case, you'll find that they were all solved by the same tipster, who called from a burner phone associated with the phone number 565-905-9589. "

There was a brief pause where Agent Garcia looked around the room to gauge if that was what she should do before she pulled out her tablet.

Agent Rossi spoke again, asking "What does that prove exactly besides the fact that you tied the same number across three different cases. Anyone with access to the FBI database could have conceivably done that."

"While that is correct, sir" Agent Garcia started furiously typing away at her touchscreen keyboard, "trainees typically lack that kind of access."

"Well we all know it isn't that hard to get access to what you shouldn't." This came from Agent Prentiss whose earlier smirk had morphed into a scowl during your rundown of her selection process, but was now simply intrigued. That looked like progress in some capacity at least.

Here goes nothing. "You're right. That is true." you addressed Agent Rossi's statement, before leaning down to reach your bag that had been lying on the floor since you sat down. You felt around inside until you found what you were looking for. "Which is why I'm sure you'll want to run forensics on the tip recording as well as inspect the phone which all of the calls came from," you stated, deftly setting down a disposable cell phone in front of Agent Hotchner.

He looked at the phone and then looked at you. You'd finally drawn a real reaction from him. He looked stunned. He wasn't alone. On the projector, Agent Garcia had pulled up the phone number tied to all three cases and you could see Dr. Reid verifying that it was indeed the number you'd recited earlier. JJ looked - dare you say - impressed. While Agents Morgan and Prentiss exchanged looks that you couldn't quite decipher the nuance behind.

"I understand that might take some time." you continued, as you gathered your bag from the floor and moved to stand up. Every single person in the room stared at you as if you'd grown three heads. "Once you've verified everything that I've just said, Agent Hotchner, I will be expecting your call. Have a nice day and thank you all for your time. " And she stuck the landing. You quickly turned and opened the door and walked out, suppressing your Cheshire cat grin all the way to the elevator. ___________________________

In your wake, the BAU team looked at one another unsure of how to proceed. Hotch recovered first, "Reid, what the tipster said, was it all publicly available information that we missed?"

"It was, which is why no one chose to investigate any of them more, I'd wager." Reid explained, still slightly in shock at the turn of events. "We just assumed we'd missed something in the profile, but there was no indication that it was someone who knew the UnSub or had any insider knowledge."

"Alright," Hotch sighed. That had not at all gone the way he had expected. Who just walks out of an interview like that after dropping a bomb. None of them had even thought to ask you to wait. They'd simply allowed you your dramatic exit as they stared at the phone. This was going to be a nightmare to deal with if it turned out you were anything other than what you'd claimed to be.

"Garcia," he turned and looked at the Technical Analyst who was brandishing her tablet the same way he held a gun.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do we have audio stored of any of the tips?"

"Allow me to check, one moment. Yes, we do. The Dallas case recorded and uploaded everything afterwards. Gotta love a data obsessed police department."

"Can you please play the recording?"

"Of course"

They all waited as Penelope brought the audio to the forefront and as she hit play, the tension in the room was at capacity. A crackle later, the audio began, your voice came through clear as can be. Agent Hotchner had a phone call to make.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #aaron hotchner #irreverentseries #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotchner imagine #hotch x y/n

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

On the Mend. Part 4

Harry Potter AU

Link to Part 3

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: T

_________

“Mum, I’m sure that you remember Y/n Potter. She is the woman that I am in love with and this is our daughter, Renee.”

Both Walburga and Ambrosia’s mouth fell open. Ambrosia looked at her ex-husband’s face before falling down to the baby in his arms. This was most definitely his child. Whatever hope she had of salvaging their marriage just burned into a million little pieces as Regulus pulled you closer to him. The expression on Regulus’ face when he looked at you clearly said true love. He never looked at Ambrosia like this and it infuriated her even more. She had to press her lips together and look down before she burst into tears.

Later Ambrosia knew that she would be angry. She would be livid. In her mind, she was already preparing for the jokes that she would make about Regulus and yourself.

“Oh look, it's just another teenage couple with a baby. How typical.”

Ambrosia didn’t want to think about how her life was going to be “affected” by Regulus’ decisions. She didn’t want to think about how other members of the “sacred 28” would whisper about her.

“That girl, that one right there...Ambrosia...that’s the girl that was abandoned by Regulus Black for Y/n Potter. Did you hear what a catastrophe that was? Apparently, Black had an affair with the Potter girl that resulted in a baby. Regulus left Ambrosia for Y/n and the child. It must be dreadful for Ambrosia”

Ambrosia had to shut those thoughts from her head. She had always been bitter toward Regulus’ attachment toward you now it was becoming a rage. Rage over the fact that the man she married had no feelings toward her. Ambrosia couldn’t help feeling stupid. She had gone into the marriage with an open mind and heart. She had given Regulus everything. Now her repayment for her good deeds was less than to be desired. Instead of getting a husband that would love and pamper her, she now had an ex-husband who knocked up his teenage girlfriend.

I should have seen this coming.

Ambrosia thought bitterly. Regulus never wanted her (and she knew it). At the wedding, he would barely look at her. Regulus looked anywhere but at her. Sex that night wasn’t even anything special. Regulus got what he wanted then left Ambrosia alone in the bedroom to drink himself to sleep. Anytime that Regulus would touch her, he either had to be drunk or would get drunk immediately after. He would then spend the rest of the night muttering your name in his sleep.

“What have you done, Regulus?”

Walburga asked, interrupting Ambrosia’s own brooding. Regulus didn’t deviate his attention from his mother. The last thing that he wanted to look at was Ambrosia and her tear-filled eyes. He didn’t feel sorry for her and nothing that she said would change it. So what if Ambrosia didn’t ask for what was happening to her now? That wasn’t Regulus’ problem. Ambrosia knew what she was getting into when she said “I do.” Regulus’ rage toward Ambrosia stimulated by the woman saying that you were plain that not worthy of Regulus’ affection. “Why do you love her so much? Y/n Potter is a plain girl. Why am I not good enough for you? I am twice as pretty as she is. She doesn’t deserve a moment of your time. You should love me, your wife. Not some girl that you had a hormonal teenage affair with.” After those words left her mouth, Regulus had no use for her. She was just some girl that he was forced to take care of.

Walburga hadn’t been able to move from her chair as she kept her cold gaze locked on her “favorite” son and the baby that was clearly his. Typically meeting one's grandchild should be a joyous moment. Walburga should be thrilled that her son produced an heir. She should be elated and excited but she wasn’t.

“You had a baby with Y/n Potter…”

Regulus nodded.

“Yes, mother….for the third time. If you would open your eyes and look at the child in my arms you would see that. This is my daughter and the woman that I am in love with...get the picture? I’m standing up to you like I should have done a long time ago. I was in a relationship with Y/n, to begin with. I didn’t want to marry Ambrosia and you forced me into it. I figured my being drunk the whole time would have clued you in on that but it appears obviousness is lost upon you. Y/n was pregnant and I didn’t know about it. My head is in the ballgame and I won’t give her up.”

Walburga was seething. Regulus never talked to her like this. Where his sudden surge of “big dick” energy was coming from was baffling. Regulus was the one that would stand beside her and agree to whatever his mother wanted.

Today, she didn’t know the young man in front of her. Judging by the surprised expression on your face, you too weren't expecting this kind of language to come out of Regulus. For some reason, Walburga felt comforted by that. Why? She didn’t know.

The part of her brain (or heart), that she didn’t let out much, was beginning Walburga to calm down and listen.

"Just give him a moment...a chance...this is our grandchild. Look at her precious little face. She’s a beauty. If you don’t calm yourself, you will never know her.”

The stubborn side of Walburga, that always won, however, had other things to say…

“What has this bitch done to my darling son? She has to have him under a love spell. That is the only thing that would explain this behavior. This is not my Regulus.”

“You are throwing away a wonderful marriage to a pureblood darling for Potter trash!”

Walburga finally said with a cold distant glare. Regulus, meanwhile, gently nudged you behind him and placed Renee in your arms. The little girl started whimpering and reached for her father again. Regulus turned and nuzzled his face against hers.

You, meanwhile, watched Walburga’s furious expression with a look of pride on your face. Regulus was, for once, standing up for you and your child. Walburga should be thrilled that her son would want to support his own child. Maybe there was some kind of gas leak in Grimmauld Place that was ruining her common sense? That was the best that you could come up with at the moment.

Regulus stood up straight again before giving you a small smile before turning back to his mother. The pleased smile had evaporated from his face.

“I suggest you watch how you speak to her. Y/n in a pureblood whether you want to admit it or not.”

Walburga jumped up from her seat.

“I want you to remarry the woman that we set you up with.”

Regulus laughed, making Walburga step back. She had forgotten that her youngest son could smile. She hadn’t seen him smile or heard his laugh in years. Had the situation been different, Walburga may have welcomed it. Now, however, she wanted nothing more than to slap Regulus as hard as possible.

“I am not marrying or being with Ambrosia.”

Walburga stomped her foot. She would sit and throw a tantrum until Regulus saw her way. Walburga knew that her son was scared enough of her that if she yelled loud enough she would get what she wanted.

“You are not marrying that girl! I forbid it!”

Regulus’ cold smile deepened. He would have not been surprised if Walburga laid down in the middle of the sidewalk and threw a fit like a spoiled child.

“Forbid all you want. I will marry Y/n. You can banish me from the family. Burn my name off of the tapestry if you have to...I am not changing my mind. I love Y/n and our daughter. You don’t have to be part of Renee’s life. We could really care less. I know that it doesn’t matter to you but how do you think that Y/n felt being pregnant and watching me marry that disaster? Like it or not, she isn’t going without or doing anything alone. If you cared about your granddaughter at all then you wouldn’t want her mother suffering as a single mother. It isn’t Sirius or Remus’ job to care for her. It's mine. You’re showing me exactly what kind of person you are and I don’t like what I see.”

“I will burn you off of the tapestry.”

Walburga almost yelled. Regulus shrugged before turning to you.

“Time to go, love.”

Regulus moved to apparate the three of you from the street. You put a hand on his chest before giving him a small nod. He took Renee from you as you turned to Walburga.

“You would really throw your son away like rubbish because he is no longer feeding into your insane ideology. It's your loss. You’ve already lost one son, go ahead and throw away the other. When you die alone and bitter, it will be your own fault.”

Regulus gave you all of two seconds before he pulled you in his arms and rushed back home.

You still felt a little dizzy when the concrete beneath your feet turned into the hardwood. Ever since you had become pregnant with Renee, apparating made you ill. As you tried to get your grasp back on the stagnant world, Sirius came in with a smile.

His smile fell when he sat the expressions on your faces.

“Guess the meeting with mummy didn’t go so well?”

Regulus didn’t say anything as he put Renee down on a soft blanket. He stepped toward the window and looked out at the street below. Sirius met your gaze. You gave him a curt nod.

Sirius turned his attention back to his younger brother. Regulus didn’t have to say anything for Sirius to know that the younger brother was upset. He could deny it all that he wanted but Sirius knew that Regulus loved their mother...even with all of the hell that she had put him through. Washing his hands of the whole family and walking away had to be more traumatic than Regulus seemed to be letting on.

“Are you out of the family too?”

Regulus turned.

“Yeah, look at that. We are more alike than we thought.”

Sirius normally would have made a witty joke but he could tell by the expression on your faces that jokes wouldn’t be appropriately timed. Instead, he turned his attention to Renee who was happily untying Regulus’ dress shoes.

“I’m going to take the baby upstairs and get her down for a nap.”

Sirius picked up Renee and disappeared from the room leaving Regulus and yourself alone.

Once Sirius was out of the room, Regulus knelt down to tie his shoes again before meeting your gaze. You were looking at him with big doe eyes that was making the man in him go crazy.

“I told you that I would do it.”

Regulus commented before joining you at the window. He placed his hand over yours hoping the physical contact would lure you to him. Sure enough, it did. You stepped closer to him.

“I was surprised.”

You commented, turning to face Regulus. His grey eyes were locked on your face. To say that you were surprised was putting things lightly. It was a miracle that you weren’t standing beside Regulus with your mouth open the whole time. Watching Regulus put Walburga and Ambrosia in their places made the attraction that you felt for him soar.

“I meant what I said. I want you. My family doesn’t matter now.”

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments. You had been internally fighting with yourself on whether or not you were ready to move forward with a relationship. After debating a few moments, your heart spoke before your head did. You had your arms around Regulus’ shoulders and was kissing him as if the world was about to end.

Regulus had been caught totally off guard by your out of character action. He had expected that he would still have to find some way to win you over (and he was fine with it). If it took him wooing you nonstop for the rest of however long...Regulus would do it.

Now here he stood, like a stunned idiot, with you kissing him. It reminded Regulus of the first kiss the two of you had shared. Neither of you liked each other very much (or so both of you thought). After being stuck together for a project, Regulus realized that he liked your company more than anyone else’s. The first kiss was a day in the forbidden forest. Regulus had caught you after almost tripping over a tree. The next thing he knew, he was kissing you. Where his sudden surge of bravery came from, he had no idea. This kiss felt like that kiss and it made that “butterfly” feeling in his stomach go crazy.

Regulus recovered quickly enough to wrap his arms around your waist. His left hand had gone up to cradle your head. The last thing Regulus wanted was for you to change your mind and try to get away from him.

“Did you mean what you said?”

You asked, voice quivering. As much as you hated sounding like you were afraid, you were. What if Regulus decided to change his mind about everything? What if he decided later on that he didn’t want a wife and child to care for? Would you be able to go on? Part of you said “hell yes.” You had done it once before with the help of your friends. The other part said, no. Now that Regulus knew about Renee and most of what you had gone through; continuing without him would be hard. It wouldn’t be fair to you or your child.

Regulus pressed his forehead against yours.

“About?”

“Renee and I...what if you change your mind...I…”

Regulus placed two fingers on your lips to gently shush you.

“I am not going anywhere nor am I going to change my mind. I promise. Now, may I kiss you again?”

You nodded, quickly pulling Regulus back to you by the lapels of his jacket.

“Upstairs?”

You questioned. Regulus wrapped his hand around yours without even answering and tugging you up the stairs behind him.

Meanwhile,

Remus, who neither of you had seen in the opposite doorway, stood shaking his head.

“Here we go.”

_______

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helenazbmrskai · 4 years ago

Text

title ‹ Christmas bribery ›

pairing ‹ soldier!seokjin x oc ›

genre ‹ Christmas/holiday au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst but barely there ›

summary ‹ This is the first time you can’t go home and celebrate Christmas with your family so your mom makes sure you don’t spend the holidays alone happy to learn that Seokjin, your mother’s best friend’s son is taking his annual leave near the 22nd of December from Military services. This story is about the biggest Christmas bribery of the century. ›

warnings ‹ swear words here and there, bad puns? ›

word count ‹ 6.2k ›

notes. I’m here to deliver a light read to set the mood for the holidays and I hope all of you will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed the process of writing it. In this Christmas collab, I had the chance to meet with these amazing people so I’m sharing this story as a gift and as a thank you!

this is part of the Christmas fic collab that was suggested by @kooala please check out the masterpost and enjoy every story we share!

”You did what?!” I feel dizzy due to the sudden movement of my body jerking up in a sitting position, crisscrossing my legs under me as my hand holds up the phone to my right ear a little bit more pressingly after hearing the breaking news. That she tells me with a singing tone sounding so excited but I can’t seem to share her sentiments as the bewilderment decorating my voice is in sharp contrast with the silence that settled on the cosy apartment like a thick feather-filled duvet. Nibbling on my thin lips I locate the single gingerbread scented candle on my desk still illuminating the interior of my messy bedroom the flames licking up the walls and disappearing near the ceiling, creating pretty shapes and lights over the dull paint, it helps me regain my composure before I realise that mom is not yet finished talking.

”Well he needed a place to stay and busses won’t go out because of the upcoming storm his apartment is in Daegu and I’m sure he’ll be tired from the flight.” Flicking on the lights I take in the sight, clothes piled up on the chair’s armrest whilst dirty plates littering every usable surface, fuck, if my room looks like a pigsty I don’t want to imagine how the other rooms are looking right now.

I was so immersed in doing great on my finals that I don’t think I cleaned the space up for a while.

I should start doing my laundry so I have something to wear as I already look to be out of clean t-shirts inspecting the pile of unwashed jeans and other garments, momentarily embarrassed to see I’m also out of room to place new dirty clothes on top of all these.

”What are you implying mother?” Pursing my lips, I honestly start to lose her train of thoughts as her rant goes on and my eyes wander over the state my apartment is in after stressful weeks but knowing her ways she’ll start with building on my conscience until she realises that I’m no longer an unsuspecting five-year-old girl and she’ll pull out the big guns and dust off her bribing skills.

Whatever her plan is, she always makes me go accordingly no matter how much I try to resist or protest and I feel a knot form in my throat at that. If this is about my non-existent dating life again that she called me to discuss in the dread of the night, I swear I’m gonna flip a table or something.

”You remember Sunha’s eldest son?” Answering back with a question as she often likes to do, doesn’t throw me off balance as it used to.

I’m long ago accustomed to getting her ways to twist the conversation to her favour so I’m ready to fire back my reply in the same form matching her up. ”How is your best friend’s son has to do with any of this?” Utterly confused by the mention, that must lace my tone since she lets a lightsome laugh bubble up in her chest I can picture her dimples are showing in full display because of it.

”Did you even pay attention to a word I said?” She sounds more amused than accusing, letting me know that she actually doesn’t mind how my head gets airy sometimes, her playfulness earns a groan from my side of the line, it’s getting pretty late and I have not enough brain cells left for her mind games.

”Spit it out, mom. You know I love you but I had a rough week so spare me of your wicked schemes.” I breathe out the words orbs closing involuntarily as I rest my head against the door frame. Where was I going anyway?

Maybe I should go for a hot chocolate before bed.

It’ll be weird not seeing my family for the holidays but I don’t want my mom to worry about me so I made sure to be extra cheerful all the time when she called only ignored her attempts of reaching me like one or two times as I had to study for two last exams and now that I can finally relax the exhaustion seems to catch up to me. I’m fine being on my own, making food and seasonal sweets while I watch tv without any interruptions, sounds like an excellent plan for Christmas, not caring how loud my music is or how bad my singing voice is under the shower.

No family means sweet alone time awaits, no one will tell me to go to sleep and I didn’t need to worry what kind of a present I should purchase at least for a little while.

”Do you remember Seokjin or not Y/N? This conversation will last longer if you don’t cooperate with me.” I can practically see her eye roll directed at me in front of my eyes despite she’s twenty miles away from here, wishful thinking on my part that she’ll let this conversation go if I ask her to stop beating around the bush.

”I don’t know. Maybe?” A fragment of my memory is triggered by hearing his name, and a scenario appears out of nowhere that was a few years ago in Sunha’s second marriage ceremony as I stand in a pastel lavender dress.

Mother was otherworldly happy for Sunha that day she dragged me with her as she chatted away mixing with the guests until we settled down to our table - when the cake cutting took place - that consisted of the bride and groom themselves and close family members like Sunha’s sons and his significant other’s daughter and, of course, my mother and I was present too.

I remember sitting down and just looking ahead aimlessly when I locked gazes with a handsome man his posture was immaculate and he seemed happy for his mother but couldn’t hide how restlessly he fidgetted in his seat, his eyes couldn’t settle watching only one thing, he even looked skittish as he jumped in his seat when the girl sitting on his left tried to catch his attention. Our eye contact lasted less than five seconds and his presence remained for thirty minutes at most as he apologised to her mother and everyone at the table since he had some urgent affairs to attend to.

I probably looked shocked for the reason that mom whispered the words into my ear when he left so suddenly to make sense of things. ”That’s Jin, her eldest son he serves in the army he probably couldn’t get a full day off because of his duties.” After humming in an understanding gesture I fixed my gaze onto the cake slice in front of me.

I remember that man clearly but with purpose, I don’t elaborate further than that, so she doesn’t have the compromitting piece of information to latch onto and make it a bigger issue. She would be elated to know I do remember Kim Seokjin, well, he’s hard to forget in the first place, he smiled only once as his mother hugged him at the table and even if it lasted for less than a second the expression was captivating. Howbeit if she tells me that she organised a date with him I’m going to slam my head to the closest hard surface I can tell. He’s so out of league and dating someone with such a dangerous profession at that, it’s not going to work, doesn’t matter how much I find him attractive and charming.

”It doesn’t matter I guess. You two could get to know each other eventually as he’ll stay at your apartment.” She drops the bomb before disconnecting the call, she doesn’t even wait for my protests this time around. A groan leaves my lips while I look around the house promptly throwing my phone to land on my bed in the means of letting out some of my frustration. I need to get going and make this house presentable again, that hot chocolate needs to wait I guess.

from: unknown number

[7.22 AM] Hi it’s Seokjin. My plane will take off at 9ish can you send me your address?

Grabbing my phone from the kitchen counter I open the message from the unknown number the device almost slips through my fingertips as I rake my eyes over the content hesitant about how to reply I turn to my friend who so generously offered her help to tidy up my living space a little before my unrequested guest arrives. With a broom in her hand, she looks back at my weird facial expression.

”What is it? It’s him?” Gaun asks abandoning her cleaning tools to read the message as well peaking over my shoulder in order to do that. ”He sounds so uptight even in text. Brr.” She shakes her shoulders in simple displeasure that earns an eye roll from me, it’s not that he’ll send hearts when our encounter was years ago for like five seconds. Honestly, I’m surprised that mom and Sunha were able to talk him into this in the first place.

”He’s a soldier Gaun and on the contrary, we don’t know each other he has no reason to be friendly.” Gnawing on my lower lip I click on the message to reply, typing a few lines before I deleted it and rewrote it before hitting send.

[7.34 AM] Hey of course. Call me if you don’t find your way.

[7.34 AM] *google map link attached*

from: Seokjin

[7.35 AM] I will thank you

”Let’s hurry up we don’t have that much time.” I place the phone back on the counter resuming my cleaning and Gaun starts to swipe the floor where she left off all the while I can hear the washing machine work in the distance.

I could feel my heartbeat in the pit of my stomach when the doorbell finally rang and at the other side of the door, there’s Kim Seokjin in all of his glory, that handsome soldier I got a sneak peek at his mother’s wedding wearing a formal suit and tie combo that he pulled of so nicely. I wipe my hands with a towel leaving the leftover plates in the sink as I rush to open the door for him.

”Hi.” I greet him with a friendly smile plastered on my face, I have to tilt my chin upwards to meet his eyes, he’s even taller than I remembered and he’s wearing his military uniform. My hold on the doorknob tightens how unfairly handsome he is with his hair parted in both sides leaving his forehead uncovered his uniform is well fitted and compliments the curves of his waist and thighs the cherry on top is his platform jet black boots that matches with the colour of his hair that I love so much.

A well trained German Sheppard sits near his foot with his tongue out as soon as I crouch down to pet him so focused on the animal that I almost don’t catch Seokjin’s timid ’hello’ in return, the dog’s tail starts to wag furiously seeing my face at his eye level he throws me off balance as he marches forward for more pets.

”I’m sorry he’s not normally like this.” The handsome boy offers a hand to help me up with a sheepish look, I accept the extended hand with a faint blush ignoring the pain that shoots up to my ass because of the impact with the floor. His hand is bigger than mine as it gets fully enveloped in his warm ones.

”Mom didn’t tell me you have a dog,” I chuckle lightly as I pet the dog’s head one last time unsure what to do with my hand that he no longer holds. ”I mean, she didn’t tell me much just told me you’ll come today.” His unique laugh sounded nice ringing in my ears, it made me smile up at him as he playfully shook his head. It’s weird how relaxed I feel around his presence when I was shaking with nerves just moments prior, and I’m still not entirely comfortable with him but his whole aura has a calming effect on my body. I don’t think I’ve ever met with someone that makes me feel so at ease when it’s basically our first meeting.

”Yeah, well, I think we both got played by our mothers.” I have to agree on that one with him. Realising that we’re still standing in front of my entrance I beckon him to come inside stepping out of the way so he could easily slide his luggage beside him his dog’s paws leave imprints on the clean floor but I don’t mind it as he looks so excited about everything inside sniffing and exploring while Jin tries to make him behave scratching his neck when his dog doesn’t seem to listen to a single word.

”Sorry he’s making a mess.” Seokjin apologises seeing the muddy paw marks after connecting our eyes for a few seconds he follows the steps into the kitchen. ”No Cookie that’s not food for you.” The young soldier immediately runs after his companion when he tries to steal the cinnamon rolls from the kitchen counter and I can’t help but laugh at the sight as he scolds the dog.

This is going to be an interesting holiday season I can already tell.

”I can’t believe this fucking jar.” I contemplate to smash it against the counter after spouting several curse words when a hand landed on mine directly on the jar’s lid, I feel Cookie’s fur brush against my exposed leg having enough evidence to know who’s this arm belongs to and I turn around in a moment of weakness. Jin’s hair rests on the top of his head in a messy style sweat dampening the ends.

”Need some help?” His eyes hold a childlike glow in them as he brushes his fingers against mine replacing my digits with his and the lid pops easily in his hands.

I can’t say this display of physical strength doesn’t make him even more attractive in my eyes I barely pay attention to the fact that he stands so close I can feel his chest meet mine as we breathe handing back the opened strawberry jam.

”Thanks.” I hastily turn to avoid his gaze even though that doesn’t offer much advantage as he leans closer pushing his chest against the line of my back watching as my hands spread the jam over the walnut biscuits.

”Want a taste?” Feeling bolder than usual I face him again holding up a finished treat to his mouth, Jin makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat but parts his lips obediently letting me slip the food between his teeth.

”I’ll leave as a stuffed chicken if you keep feeding me these delicious treats.” Despite the indication, he doesn’t seem against the food I offer as he tries to steal one more from the plate but I pull his hand away curling my fingers around his wrist.

”Let me finish before you devour my hard work you pig.” I roll my eyes watching his childlike antics, he seems to take pleasure in riling me up from time to time. It’s been two days since he and his companion Cookie arrived and things just worked out smoothly Jin is a nice person with horrendous jokes but he does help out a lot around the apartment he even fixed my broken ladder so we can decorate the Christmas tree that he insisted we need to purchase when I told him I was not going to go all out and celebrate this year. After all, I was supposed to be here on my own.

He’s so used to training at headquarters that he leaves every morning to run for an hour before he comes back all sweaty and satisfied finding me eating my breakfast or drinking my coffee it doesn’t matter what’s in my hands he always needs to get the last bites from it. He’s really not good for my heart.

”Since you’re doing the sweets how about I make us lunch today?” Jin asks excitedly resting his head on top of mine gently careful not to put too much weight on me, my heart speeds up at the sweet gesture not trusting my words so I nod instead. One of these days I can’t wrap my head around his intentions, he looks so nonchalant as he does things like resting his head on me or patting my knee when we watch tv together with Cookie curled around us on the couch.

”I can’t work like this.” I use the excuse to separate our bodies, is it just me or the kitchen is getting hotter by every passing second, or it’s just my cheeks heating up due to his body moulding perfectly with mine. It doesn’t help either that I remember he’s sweaty under his shirt after his daily exercise smelling nice when he probably shouldn’t have. I busy my hands to glue the biscuits together with the jam moving slightly to the side a little further from Jin’s warm body, he doesn’t say anything else as he decides to leave the kitchen Cookie stays for the sake of finishing his meal before going on a quest to find his owner leaving me behind with my thoughts.

I wrap things up quickly after that, placing the treats in the middle so Cookie can’t reach it and clean up the jam stains before retreating to my room.

It’s a pleasant surprise to check my phone and see that my mom tried to reach me an hour ago, she’s up uncharacteristically early. Too curious to find out what she wants I dial her number without a second thought, it’s been three days that she called and that time she told me Jin will stay at my place until he has to go back to the army. Whenever I think about that a frown seems to climb its way up to my expression I got used to seeing him around the house that I tend to forget he won’t be around when the new year comes and it’s scary to think about how attached I feel to him or rather how lonely I’ll feel once this is all over. He’s a busy man in general and serving under the Military’s name means he can’t be here when I need him, it would be as painful in the long run as a long-distance relationship would be. Not that I assume he’s interested in me that way.

”Hey mom sorry I didn’t hear your call. Is everything alright?” I press my phone to my left ear, closing the door behind with the help of my foot before sitting down at the edge of my bed. Seokjin’s low hum and the sound of pots and pans indicate that he started soon after I left the kitchen, it’s early to start lunch already but Jin is always restless like that.

He needs to find things to do or fix because he gets bored easily, he told me that when I picked up on his punctuality that he always has to move like a clockwork at the base he developed a habit of making use of himself and he needs to constantly do things to keep his restless energy at bay so he can sleep well at night.

He wakes up exactly at six in the morning every day even without setting up his alarm. I think it’s endearing when he thumps his foot absentmindedly even if he’s watching a movie he’s interested in, legs spread wide in a comfortable position on the sofa, his body just never relaxes completely.

”Yes dear I called early to say Merry Christmas to my baby!” I giggle in response hearing her excitement conveyed through her voice. ”I hope you enjoy your Christmas present.” Her tone turned suggestive and my laughter died down, heat rose to my cheeks and my thoughts spiralled to Seokjin’s direction.

”What’s that supposed to mean?” I glance at the door listening for the noises to make sure Jin can’t hear my flustered tone, he’s still in the kitchen and that helps me relax a little until my mom’s knowing hum filled the silence in the conversation.

”Are you getting on well with Jin right? He’s a real sweetheart so treat him nice ok?” Can’t help but all the more agree with her, he’s very considerate and funny, I think he’s the one who’s treating me nice even though I supposed to be the host, he helps out a lot and good company to be around. He sometimes misplaces my things like moving plates to a higher shelf when he knows I can’t reach it there without his help and he cracks terrible jokes that I secretly like very much and Cookie is the apple of my eye already, I think he listens to me more than he listens to Jin at this point (there might be a tiny connection that I often give him special treats during his owner's absence) and I found it hilarious as he sulks on the couch calling his dog a ’traitor’ when he decides to rest his head on my lap instead of Seokjin’s.

Little things like that make me like Seokjin more and more with each passing day.

”I’m treating him just fine mom he said he gained weight since his arrival blaming it on me, don’t worry and enjoy the holidays with dad, after all, it’s the first time that you two could celebrate with just him after so long.”

”Will do darling. I hope you’ll have a wonderful time as well I know that finals were stressing you out so I hope that you are able to relax now.” We deemed the conversation finished after wishing each other happy holidays again and for once I feel like I can mean my words as I feel relaxed around a certain someone.

”Want to place the star on top?” Jin shoved the decoration piece in front of my face whilst I placed food on the coffee table to feast upon as we watch classic Christmas movies until we can’t keep our eyes open since it’s the first day of Christmas.

”I’m not stepping on that ladder you fixed, it looks like a death trap.” Eyeing all the nails and patches on the poor thing.

”If it can hold my weight so can yours.” Jin states the facts, placing the star into my opened palm with a mischievous grin. ”I’ll hold you so don’t be a baby and decorate with me, it’s not as fun doing it alone.” That pout, dangerous and he knows that I can’t possibly say no to that when he asks me so nicely with that adorable full lips of his.

”If I fall I’m dragging you with me, just saying.” I keep our eye contact to get my point across with a meaningless glare, the corners of my lips twitch to morph into a smile hearing his happy chuckles using that moment to turn to the ladder taking the first step up the stair the scent of Jin’s aftershave hit my sensitive nose feeling his hands curve around my hip squeezing my sides to reassure me he’s here to catch me. I can blame my wobbly legs because of the shaky ladder or on my fear of high places but I can’t fool myself that the delicate shake that overpowers my body is because of the excitement I feel as I daydream about his hands on different parts of my body. It feels nice to be held by him.

”Hold on for deer life then.” A fond smile appears on my face hearing him laugh on the pun he just told me, forget my inner turmoil in the meantime placing the star to add the last piece before we declare it’s complete.

I almost can’t mask the look of disappointment I feel when he lets me go once my feet are planted on the ground the star placed on top.

”Told you it’s safe. I’m here to keep you in one piece, sugar.” His hand landing on the top of my head, caressing my hair for the time length of two outdrawn strokes before he lets his fingers fall beside his body to prop around his hips observing the tree with so much excitement that he failed to see my blush due to the pet name that probably just slipped out without any meaning behind it.

”No Cookie it’s not yours love.” I catch him before he can bite a big chunk out of our late night dinner as we’re not paying attention, it created an opportunity for him that he would’ve been foolish to disregard.

”Cheeky pretty thing just like his owner, huh?” It slips out as I pet Cookie’s head kneading the soft short furs around his ears that he knocks our heads together in beaming excitement because of the affection.

”Cookie really likes you Y/N.” The affectionate gaze he looks at me with knocks the air out of my lungs, it sounded like for a split second that he means he likes me too. Wishful thinking I remind myself before looking away clearing my throat to get things started plopping down onto the couch with a big huff leaving my lips.

”I’m starving, get your fat ass over here so we can watch Grinch.” I beam at him acting like his previous comment doesn’t hit hard as I pull my plate closer taking a bite out of the grilled chicken.

”How rude-olf of you!” He fakes his crocodile tears but as his ass hits the fluffy blanket nearly ripping my hot cocoa out of my hands it doesn’t seem like he’s feeling an ounce of hurt over my words. It’s silent for a while as we bash under the Christmas lights our faces illuminated by the tv munching on our food and sweets laid out before us Cookie resting on the rug near our feet.

”It’s been a while since I had such a nice Christmas.” Jin sighs burrowing his face onto my shoulder I can feel his breath fan over my skin the movie is long forgotten as I let his words sink in. Tired to fight the urge I tilt my head to rest it against his the moment appears to be too intimate for strangers let alone friends. ”You smell nice too.” I feel his nose around my neckline turning further into me as he inhales the scent of my hair, maybe it’s because it’s getting late but I let the feelings wash over me.

”Did you drink from my mother’s ’secret Santa’ labelled punch or something? I told you she’s a witch when it comes to alcoholic beverages.” I laugh lightheartedly and Jin follows suit hitting my left thigh when his laugh makes me laugh harder that results in my stomach twisting in pain from all the giggling even so as he starts to tickle me to take his revenge. He manhandles me with ease as he pins my wrists with one hand over my head ticking my torso with the other straddling my hip so he can restrict my squirming under him.

”You’re stronger! That’s not fair Jin.” I whine under his crushing weight, cheeks flushed from the exercise and his close proximity an innocent smile lits up his entire face as he regards me under his form, the Christmas lights are illuminated in his dark orbs creating a pretty image of him. Hair sticking to every questionable direction full lips stretched to house his angelic smile warm radiating from his body so close to mine.

I wish this moment could last forever.

”What are you thinking about?” Tilting his head in question he looks into my eyes with a fierce expression, I gulp not knowing to say the truth or come up with something on the spot. I decided it’s time for the truth.

”That I..” My sentence gets interrupted by Cookie’s barking I haven’t realised that he around the time we were occupied left his spot and watched us with curious eyes. He licked both of our faces as soon as he had the attention and Jin got up from the couch to pet him as Cookie nudged him with his nose to show him his empty bowl.

Maybe it’s a sign that I shouldn’t. Right. What was I thinking? Seokjin is never home he serves the country all the time, married to his work to the extent that he has no time left for himself, he doesn’t have the capacity to form a serious relationship with me and he’s probably not looking for love either.

It’s for the best that we separate after the new year.

I formed a plan after almost confessing my love for him to avoid any other scenarios like this in the future, to be honest, I hated it but there’s no other way for me to get over him quickly even if my heart told me I should enjoy my little time left with him I choose to ignore his attempts at spending quality time with me.

If he asked for a movie night I told him I was busy or tired I took my meals to my room telling him that I need to pick up my studying schedule for the next semester, I had the most ridiculous reasons and I’m sure he figured me out after the second time I dismissed our plans and I can’t say seeing him hurt over my words and futile attempts at lying doesn’t felt like I was stabbed with a dozen knives into my heart.

I should have stopped myself before I got too deep because now I’m hurting both of us even if he’s only mourning for a lost friend.

A scratching noise interrupted the flow of my thoughts I tiptoe all the way to the door looking around before my eyes land on a restless Cookie. He reminds me so much of his owner but he normally stays with Jin I wonder what is he doing here scratching on my door. Is he out perhaps?

”What’s wrong? You seem sad.” I crouch to his level so I can caress his fur and his tail begin to wag instantly when I pull back Cookie grabs my sleeve with his teeth careful not to hurt me before he pulls me out of my room. I try to regain my footing but he pulls me harder until my door shuts behind my back.

”Cookie. What’s up with you suddenly?” I ask him even if I know there’s no reply to wait for I observe his body language before realisation lit up in my round orbs. ”You want me to follow you somewhere sweetheart?” Hearing that he let go suddenly making me lose my balance and collide with the floor cushioning the hit with my butt just like the first time I met him when he nearly run me over with excitement. He tumps his foot as he walks away hardly leaving enough time to catch up to him. He sits down in front of Seokjin’s door, or precisely the guest room he occupies for a short period I remind myself. My eyes soften after noticing it’s his way of showing that he doesn’t want us to part in bad terms. He’s smart.

I take in a deep breath mulling over if I should talk to Jin but looking at Cookie’s hopeful eyes I can’t possibly turn around and ignore this anymore. Jin deserves a better explanation than just accepting the fact one day I ghosted him.

I raise my hand to knock on his door when I hear his voice, he’s talking to someone over the phone since I didn’t hear the front door opening or closing that would mean we have a guest and I don’t think he would invite someone here without discussing it with me, no matter if we are in speaking terms or not.

”I don’t know what happened. I thought we are good but then the next day she didn’t want to do anything with me. I’m confused.” Is he talking about me? To whom? I know eavesdropping is bad but I can’t make my body pull away from the door as I listen intently. I don’t hear what the person from the other side says only Jin’s answers that I’m able to make out as I press my ear to the smooth surface.

”Of course I tried talking to her mom! What if I said or did something that made her hate me? I don’t want to leave like this, we had so much fun. I don’t want it to end this way.” Jin groaned frustratedly while listening to his mom, hearing his voice so worried and tense talking to his loved one about me that knows me very well, I feel ten times worse for ignoring him without giving him an honest explanation.

”I like her mom, but maybe it’s already too late.”

Retreating to my room in sheer panic when he cuts the line to afraid to be caught to rationalise the words I overheard. He likes me too.

All this time I thought that my feelings are not reciprocated whilst in reality I’m just a big coward, I hid behind the fabricated words that his profession is something that doesn’t sit well with me and he has no time to have a girlfriend, but I never tried asking what he wanted. If he wanted to give us a chance or not.

These thoughts plagued my mind until I fall asleep that night, however, tomorrow will be something different.

”Good morning.” I greet Seokjin as he walks out with only his sweatpants on eyes puffy from sleep, he’s so startled by my voice that he jumps at least five centimetres above the ground and the chuckle I let out witnessing his fright confuses him more.

”Uh, good morning.” He replies, at last, passing my form to pull out a mug probably for his morning coffee but I have his fill in my hand while mine is placed on the counter next to my hip. ”The ghost of Christmas visited you last night or something?” Jin watches my form suspiciously but accepting the steaming cup of coffee with a soft ’thanks’ rolling off of his tongue.

”Something like that. Can we talk?” I meet his gaze shyly picking up on my nervous habit as I nibble on my lower lip his eyes soften up.

”Yeah, let’s sit.” He prompts and I nod following his figure to the dining table where we sit on the opposite sides of it. We drink our beverages in peace for a few minutes before I lick my lips nervously opening my mouth to talk.

”I like having you here Jin. This Christmas with you was wonderful even your bad puns are surprisingly funny.” The man in front of me giggles at that, hearing that I had fun with him dismissed some of his insecurities and he looks more relaxed sitting before me sipping on his drink occasionally, waiting.

”I’m sorry for ignoring you it was very childish of me and you deserve an explanation. If I’m being honest you scare me.” His eyebrows shoot up at the mention and I’m eager to make things clear. I don’t want him to take my words literally. ”Or maybe it’s me. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I like you a lot. It scares me because you’re a soldier and you’re never home and I would be so worried wondering about if you are safe.”

”Even if I say all of that I couldn’t make myself to unlike you because you’re funny bad pun or not, caring and affectionate and too good for this world...I just really like you.”

Shying away from his intense stare I choose to observe the rim of my mug watching the dark liquid swirl in my cup when a finger tapped on my chin to look up. The brightest smile adorned Jin’s face that is so close our noses almost touch.

”I normally hate to say that our moms were right all along but right now I’m just glad that they made us spend this Christmas together.” Seokjin’s forehead knocks against mine as we laugh, nodding subtly to avoid more damage as my smile spreads wider I notice how Jin’s eye keeps looking between my eyes and lips and I can’t wait for him to finally reduce the short distance closing my eyes to fully appreciate his finger caressing my jaw, cupping my face letting our breaths entangle for a short second before I get to taste the coffee on his lips.

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volleychumps · 5 years ago

Text

To Love a Libero (Nishinoya Yu x Reader)

“Maaaan, this sucks.”

“Nishinoya-senpai?” Hinata blinks at his senior, wondering just why the star libero of the Karasuno volleyball team was laying down on the floor with his knees tucked into his chest, his expression screaming of depression.

“I want a girlfriend!” Nishinoya whines as the rest of the team sweat drops as he hits the floor with balled fists like a child. Bokuto, seeing the commotion, comes over and puts a hand seriously on his shoulder before kneeling down to meet him at eye-level.

“Are you lost? Do you need me to find your mom?”

As the teams among the camp stifle their laughter into their fists, Nishinoya gains an irk mark at the teasing Ace of Fukurodani as said man keels over in laughter.

“T-The girls are coming! That’ll lift your spirits, Nishinoya-senpai!” Yamauchi exclaims as the libero helps himself to his feet, glaring daggers at his still giggling teammates. “Let’s watch them play a set, ne?”

As the boys all return to the stands to watch the girls compete, Nishinoya looks among them with a bored stare. Perhaps after being near Kiyoko this whole time, and it for sure would never happen, most girls didn’t hold the same effect on him. Even if they did, none really responded to his advances or showed any interest.

“Noya-San...” Sugawara puts a hand on his shoulder, giving him a nervous grin. “I can see your depression cloud getting bigger.”

“Hah? No way, I don’t need a girlfriend. Volleyball is life! Right, Hinata?”

“Senpai...you’re too cool!” His orange-haired kouhai flashes him two large thumbs up as Nishinoya laughs, a little too loudly. The two opposing teams from Fukurodani and Nekoma make their way onto the courts with no problem.

“Whoa...who is that?” Tanaka’s eyes widen a little.

“She goes to Fukurodani. She’s the libero for the girls’ team.” Akaashi replies evenly as Bokuto sniffs. “She’s also rejected Bokuto-san on numerous occasions.”

“She’s just blind to how awesome I am. It’s fine.”

You make your way onto the court with a small smile, blushing as the more louder boys on the Fukurodani team begin to cheer your name specifically, tugging your hair back into a braid as your team prepares for the practice match.

“Hm. She’s pretty short.” Daichi notes as Tanaka cackles, clapping Noya on the back.

“Probably shorter than Noya!”

Nishinoya didn’t reply as his eyes locked on your figure, his heart gaining an almost too steady rythym as you get into position.

Damn were you pretty.

That wasn’t what took him off guard though.

You deflected the balls the opposing team hit to the floor as if it were nothing, jumping up to do a cute little cheer every time you succeeded. You smiled at your teammates lovingly through the familial bond you shared with them.

“Noya...you’re staring.” Asahi grins down at his friend as Nishinoya feels the heat rise to his cheeks.

“W-whatever!”

Nishinoya looks back to your figure to see the end of the match had commenced, Fukurodani beating Nekoma with a gap of six points. His eyes locked with yours as your friend on the team was whispering something in your ear, a slight blush forming on your cheeks as you look away quickly.

“Uh oh, looks like she caught you!” Tanaka cackles even louder as Nishinoya sinks back in his seat, feeling embarrassed.

“She just plays really good...that’s all.”

“(Y/N)-chan! I saved you a seat!”

“No, thanks.” You reply flatly to Bokuto as the ace sinks down in his seat, sighing dejectedly as Akaashi coughs into his fist to hide his laughter.

It wasn’t like you had anything personal against Bokuto...it was just the fact you would rather reject him outright instead of stringing him along with false hope. You didn’t like him the same way he did you, that’s all it was.

Plus, you could never tell if he was serious or not.

You had walked into the cafeteria in the standard white shirt and dark shorts, blanching as your team waved you over to their already over-crowded table. You shake your head no with a small smile, motioning that you would find somewhere else to sit.

In a flash, the table to your right’s members all seemed to scatter at the same time, some dragging others as you amusedly watch a dark haired boy drag along the orange, spunky looking kid, telling him to take a hint as one lone person remains at the table.

Unsurprised, you plop your tray in front of the boy who was staring at you throughout your match, silently giving approval to the amount of effort his teammates had given to lead to this situation as they stuff themselves into bordering tables.

“E-eh? Where did everyone go?” The boy across from you had unique hair, you noted silently as you giggle at the fact that he was too engrossed in his food to notice the situation his teammates had left him in. When he sees you taking apart your chopsticks, you swear you can practically see the smoke puff up from his head.

“You’re Nishinoya-san, right? I heard you have a pretty good title for yourself back in Miyagi.” You make conversation, smiling warmly at the now nervous boy in front of you.

“Y-yeah...um! You played really well today! You’re defense tactics are super good!”

This startles you. You knew for a fact that Bokuto and the boys on the Fukurodani team liked you primarily for your appearance, but not once had any of them complimented your playing style.

“Mm. Thank you.” You shyly put your chopsticks in your mouth, a blush forming on your features at the foreign feeling.

From another table, Akaashi holds a hyperactive Bokuto in place, who was practically fuming. “What the hell is that atmosphere?!”

“Bokuto-san. Please eat your food. And be quiet.”

The members of Fukurodani chuckle to themselves as Bokuto sits down immediately, almost like a pet.

“T-then! I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N)...chan?”

“Tomorrow it is, Noya-san.” You reply happily, smiling at the fact that he said the honorific with much hesitation.

You watch him dart away, smiling to yourself until you suddenly notice that he had put his dessert on your tray, making you blush slightly as you unwrap the pudding.

The rest of the camp went by in a breeze, and you happily met for dinner every night to eat with Nishinoya as you two formed a more comfortable friendship with one another, Noya giving you the cheesiest pick-up lines to ever exist as you laughed so hard your stomach hurt.

Naturally, both of your teams teased you relentlessly, and when you two were together during practice breaks, it was obvious to anyone that Nishinoya had fallen for you. Hard.

The real question was, how did you feel about him?

“The last day of training camp is tomorrow.”

“Mm.”

“I go back to Miyagi in one day.”

“Mm.”

You both laid in the soft grass past curfew, Nishinoya successfully sneaking you out of the girls’ dorms with ease and a signal to be quiet pressed to his playful grin.

“Don’t worry! You can take me sight-seeing when we meet at Nationals.”

“Noya-”

“I’m like, not sad at all to go. Not at all.”

“Nishi-”

“Why would you even say something like that? Me? Sad? HAH!”

“Yuu!” You had sat up and pressed a hand to his blabbering mouth, watching as his eyes slowly become more saddened. Without hesitation, you pressed your lips against the hand that covered his mouth, leaving the unsuspecting boy in shock before pulling back.

“Just...hold me for awhile, okay?” You lay against his chest, listening to his thumping heart beat. “You might not be sad, but I am.” You look up from your position laying down on him, tracing patterns into his shirt. “Anybody would be sad to see the person they like leave.”

“You...like me?”

“Yes, dummy.”

Without a second beat of silence, Noya carefully lifts you off of him before hurling himself to his feet, punching the air excitedly.

“You like me!”

You’re laughing now, shushing him to be quiet until he kneels down before you, tilting your chin to meet his lips as he kisses you passionately. Your head spins as you feel something cold and metal being rested against the skin on your neck.

“This is a brand.” He says softly when he pulls away, admiring the glint of the necklace in the moonlight. “You’re mine, (Y/N).”

“This is why you disappeared that one practice?” You laugh, touching the chain around your neck. He nods, his eyes looking more confident than you had ever seen them before he reaches out to hold a strand of your hair, kissing it.

“Please let me cherish you.”

“I would be honored, Yu.”

He tackles you into the soft grass, afterwards, joy lit up in both of your hearts simutaneously as you hug him tightly back.

“Hah? What kind of libero love shit is this?” Tsukishima blinks in surprise as Yamaguchi swats his arm. The day Karasuno had to take its’ leave back to Miyagi arrived, and you and your newly minted boyfriend had broken the news rather sheepishly.

“NOYA!” Tanaka and Asahi lean on each other for support, tears in their eyes. “W-We’re so happy!”

“S-Senpai!” Kageyama holds a running Hinata by the collar, sighing about how he was surrounded by idiots.

“Weren’t you just saying you didn’t need-?” Daichi’s hand covers Suga’s mouth without hesitation, grinning at his Libero who wasn’t letting anybody ruin his over-the-moon feeling.

“Be careful, shorty-kun.” Bokuto mentions, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you naturally swat it off. “If you don’t make it to nationals, I’m gonna steal (Y/N) away.”

Noya’s eyes glint at the challenge before pulling on your wrist to make you fall into his chest, looking fearlessly into Bokuto’s smirk.

“I’d like to see you try.”

When all goodbyes are said, the Karasuno team leaves you and Noya outside the bus, your eyes welling up with tears as the realization of the dreaded day settled in.

“Hey. None of that.” You laugh through your tears as Noya swipes them away, grinning down at you. “I’ll call every night, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. And you won’t go to Bokuto-san because you’re lonely and I’m not there to fill the empty void in your heart, right?”

“Ah. That one’s hard to promise.” You say flatly, sarcasm dripping from your tone before Noya tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing at you as if he was trying to commit your face to memory.

“Don’t miss me too much, now.” With that, his mouth captures yours in a loving kiss before he pulls away, climbing his bus without looking back. You laugh a little at his over-dramatic crying form in the window as Suga gives you a thumbs-up, signaling his teammates were gonna take care of him.

You give him a small wave as the bus pulls out of the parking lot, reaching up to grip the chain around your neck.

“See you soon.”

#nishinoya x reader #haikyuu nishinoya #haikyuu!!#haikyuu one shot #fluff #Nishinoya fluff #haikyuuanime

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kaeyas-beloved · 4 years ago

Text

The Emperor’s Daughter in Wonderland

This is an IkeVamp/IkeRev crossover inspired by this post... I couldn’t resist myself.

I had this long note (this is still long though) about how I lost confidence because I read the notes on the original post and I thought I skipped over some huge points with the armies growing suspicious and some other things. Like there wouldn’t have been any real plot holes or anything but I still panicked for a moment (cause I thought people wouldn’t like what I wrote). But to sum up I think I fixed it and basically I focused more on the MC/Reader being the daughter of a suitor and the ‘it all goes down hill from there’ part of the original post - letting MC have the spot light because of that...And I also still tried to sprinkle in some general suitor romance (not a lot though cause it wasn’t the main focus) There are some dad!Napoleon moments too cause who doesn’t like it when the residents are dads

Still I hope who ever reads this still likes it! (Sorry if this isn’t good and I hyped you up for nothing...)

Warning(s): Descriptions of violence, injures, blood, roughly 5 swear words and potential OOCness because I haven’t finished all the IkeRev routes nor am I fully confident in writing Napo’s character...

~~~

Call it what you’d like, Napoleon could tell something was going to happen.

Maybe it was just his protective fatherly side coming out for all to see, she is the only remaining family member he has left, his wife (her mother) gone along with his human life, but the ex-emperor knows better.

It’s a gut feeling, something will happen.

The screech of Jupiter, who sat perched on a tree branch not too far away, alerted him that someone was coming. Looking over his shoulder towards the entrance of the mansion, out walked his daughter, satchel and coat in hand, a smile on her face.

“Finished saying goodbye?” Napoleon asked, stepping back from the horse he was petting. (Y/N) nodded, attaching the bag to the saddle of the horse.

“Yeah. Supposedly they’re all going to miss me? I don’t know why though. Even old man Leo said something about how ‘the passerotta is finally leaving the nest’.” she sighed, exasperated at the nickname the renaissance man used.

“What have I told you about calling him that?” Her father asked, raising a brow. She turned from the animal to face him.

“To not to?” Napoleon nodded.

“Right.”

“So I can call Comte ‘old man’ but not Leo?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Exactly.” he smirked and she couldn’t help but sigh again, shaking her head.

“You don’t make sense sometimes you know that?” Chuckling, Napoleon mussed up her hair, his way of showing her affection. It wasn’t as jovial as it usually was though, or relaxed for that matter, and (Y/N) picked up on it quickly.

“Stop worrying. Remember, I had you and Uncle Jean teach me how to protect myself. Nothing is going to happen to me...” her attempt to ease her father’s anxieties didn’t go unnoticed, but it also didn’t help that much.

“I’d feel better if you brought your rapier...”

“I would, really, but I don’t think the townspeople would take too kindly to me having it. It doesn’t help that I’m a woman either, because, you know...”

“I know... Just, be careful” Had it not been for the way his jade green eyes stared at her, waiting for her to promise that she’d come home in one piece, (Y/N) may have laughed at the way he was acting. It was uncommon to see this underlining anxiousness in his expression. Usually when she was going out he was laid back, dropping the parting words of ‘be safe’ before going on as usual It sounded a little cold but he trusted in her to make the right choices.

But this time he told her to be careful. Not safe, careful. In a roundabout way it was a sign that he cared and worried for her and didn’t want anything to harm her.

It also showed that something really had him on edge about her trip to London. The best thing to do though is to give him what he wants, which is reassurance.

“I’m only getting ink for Uncle Arthur, but if it eases your mind, I promise to be careful.”

“Thank you.” he mumbled, “Do you have enough Rouge?”

“What did I say about not worrying?” The look he gave her told her to just tell him, “Oui, I do. I even packed more than needed just in case. You never know when your thirst can suddenly be stronger than usual.”

“How much is more exactly?”

“I’m bringing eleven. If I drink half a day every other day I’d have enough for about a mouth plus some”

“I know I said to be prepared but you really are an overachiever sometimes you know that?”

“Oui oui, I’m aware! Au revivor papa, I’ll see you in a week, alright?” With a smile, the two shared a parting goodbye hug, (Y/N) mounting the awaiting horse. A kick of her foot and she was off at a gallop, waving back one last time before disappearing over the horizon.

The dread in the pit of Napoleon’s stomach didn’t cease, even as he went back into the manor, and when the time was right, it’d be revealed just why that feeling was there.

“Damn it...” Oddly enough, in some form of twisted fate, the rapier that she left at home would’ve been beneficial in that moment.

Honestly, no one thought that she’d fall into some fantasy land, one on the brink of war, obtain the power to break magic spells and then get kidnapped with the intention to be eliminated. By a research center trying to take over the world for themselves no less.

Scrapes and bruises marked her entire body along with the stains of blood. She’s lost way more than humanly possible for her to still be standing, a large cut running down her arm and a rather deep puncture wound to her abdomen. Yet she continues to fight - she has to.

Landing a final punch to the last robed disciple, a pounding pain thrummed throughout her entire body, though the one that sourced from her mouth was by far the most painful.

“I-Ignore it...” she told herself, staggering over to a fallen man that was taken care of earlier in the fray of fists and magic. Unhooking the belt, she took the sword from him, stumbling up to one of the horses that the enemy rode in on.

The truth was she wasn’t doing too hot. Turns out, no matter how much you practice or how much stamina you have, deflecting magic attacks takes a lot out of you. On top of that she was exerting herself to defend herself, while bleeding, and it all amounts up to her being on the brink of unconsciousness.

“Why do you wield your blade?” A conversation she had with her father when she was younger came to mind as she leaned against a tree, the need to catch her breath too strong to brush off.

“Huh?”

“Why do you fight (Y/N)? What’s your reason?” Right... he asked that when she was younger, feeling like a failure for not being able to fight like her dad could. Having been so young she was nearly on the brink of tears, about to give up ever learning the art of the sword.

“T-to protect and save others...” was her frail answer. Her father smiled, liking that her heart was in the right place.

“Good. Now remember that when you’re about to give up. You can’t achieve that goal if you admit defeat.”

“O-okay! I won’t ever give up!”

“C’est ma fille...” he said patting her head.

Growing up surrounded by some of the greatest men in history came with it’s perks, a vast knowledge ranging from science thanks to Isaac all the way to piano lessons with Mozart are under her belt.

Though, if she had to choose, the greatest skill she acquired was how to protect the weak. How to raise a sword to save lives, never to take if at all possible.

Her new found friends will die if she doesn’t move now.

“Merci papa...” she whispered, finding the strength to push herself upright once more. Climbing onto the back of the horse a new, burning determination filled her.

She will save those that have found a place in her heart and, when everything’s said and done, return home to her awaiting family.

By time the clearing to the Central Quarter came into view the sun had just started to set, bathing her surroundings in an orange glow. The closer she got to the opening the more she was able to make out, yet the sight wasn’t an uplifting one.

The Chosen Thirteen from both sides lay beaten on the cobblestone ground, exhausted and beat up. Even the kings, strongest among them all, struggled to get back on their feet. Lancelot sat against a wall while Ray was at the foot of the man behind everything - Amon Jabberwock. The other officers weren’t any better, most struggling to grasp their weapons but too drained to do so.

And in the hands of Amon was a bigger than normal magic crystal, the glow emitting off of it bright, its spell nearly cast.

The sight only fueled the adrenaline that coursed through her veins.

Drawing her blade from its sheath, she was ready to face any foe that may hinder her in helping bring peace to Cradle. Aligning the course the horse is to take, (Y/N) let go of the reins, her voice ringing out.

“Ray, move!”

The King of Spades did as commanded, rolling back and out of the line path of the stallion. Leaping from it, she barely landed on her feet, the hand free of anything outstretched. Instantly the harsh glow subsided, the gem now nothing more than a useless rock.

The call of her name mixed with gasps of surprise, and perhaps relief, fell on deaf ears, her (e/c) eyes focused on one man and one man alone. Sweeping his legs out from under him, Amon dropped to his hands and knees, the tip of her rapier pressed against his neck.

“Amon Jabberwock-!” her voice echoed with power and authority, a cold look in her eye.

Admittedly, it shocked those around her, no clues given during her stay that would allude to her having this hidden side. But the sight of her standing there, a will to fight in her eye, even as copious amounts of blood poured out of her, was astonishing and uplifting enough to repair their morale.

And had the residents of the mansion been here to hear and see her, they would've remarked how similar it felt to her father when he faced his foes.

“As a temporary member of the Black and Red Army, I hereby arrest you on the count of treason against the country of Cradle!”

“H-How...?” Amon stuttered, voice laced with anger and on the brink of snapping further into madness, “you should be dead with those wounds!”

A weak, almost pained sounding laugh left her lips as she pushed the blade a little harder, lips parting, “I’m nothing like the others...”

“Monster...” he gasped, fear in his eyes as he unsuccessfully tried to scoot away from her. By the way he acted, she could tell that he caught sight of the pointed teeth in her mouth.

“Mm... in a way, maybe I am...”

“You won’t kill me!” The way his voice shook made it sound like he was trying to convince her to not slit this throat right there and now. Fortunately for him, she wasn’t that kind of person.

“While it’s true that I shouldn’t raise my sword like I am now unless I am willing to take the life that’s in my hands, you would be right, I won’t be ending your life. I learned all I know from my father, one of which was to never take a life, for fear it turns out I can’t live with the consequences. That doesn’t mean I won’t beat you and bring peace to Wonderland” Refusing to let another word be uttered from him, (Y/N) swiftly butted the hilt of the sword to his neck, knocking him out.

“There she is!”

“Lord Amon!” Shouted more robed men from behind. The disciples reached for, presumably, magic crystals from their pockets but stopped at something she said, the saber pointed their way.

“You can fight me, but I just took down your leader. If you chose to fight me just know that I do not fall easily and I will fight till the bitter end for what is right... So, what will you do?”

“C-crud, let’s get out of here! I’m not chancing it!” Her words reached them and made it clear that they didn’t stand to win. So, scouring away, the enemy tucked tail and ran.

“Seems you’re all still alive...” She breathed, turning around to face the army soldiers. All of them smiled at her, glad that she was alright (for the most part) and that this war was over.

Yet life is no fairy tale, something tragic usually hits in the best of times like these. Wise words from a guy who’s not all there (thanks Shakespeare).

She saw it before the words reached her ears and the next moments were a blur of colour.

Someone from the shadows raised a sword of their own, the blade about to pierce the one person dearest to her, the one that stole her heart while in this new, unfamiliar world. He was unguarded with nothing to defend himself, about to die should she just stand there and not take action.

Mustering the last bit of energy she had, she parried the attack, the sound of steel on steel ringing in the still evening. The clash lasted less than a minute, the lesser vampire the one to be impaled, unable to block the second strike. Still, if she was to die, he would go down with her at least.

No, she didn’t kill the attacker, merely used all she had to stab him in the leg, bringing him to the ground, the force and angle of the impact rendering him unconscious.

No one said anything, their minds unable to full register the events that just transpired. The pained words of their friend snapped them out though and all eyes went to her.

“I-I’m glad yo-ou’re safe...” she wheezed, eyes meeting the ones of the man she loves. A sense of calmness overcame her, he was safe, he would live. Maybe, just maybe, she could die a peaceful death knowing that she was able to protect the one she cares about. Her duty was fulfilled.

The only regret she’d bear would be the regret of being unable to say goodbye properly, both to the ones around her and the ones ignorant of what’s going on, as they await her return back in the Land of Reason.

Something that seemingly won’t be happening now...

This was her bittersweet end.

…

….

…..

A sharp intake of air. Vision blurry. The smell of antiseptic chemicals and whisky. These invaded her being and briefly, when she was able to at least think, she thought that this was a weird form of Heaven or Hell to be put into.

Though when her sight cleared up some more it was revealed that, no, she wasn’t in an abstract afterlife, she was just in Kyle’s infirmary.

(Y/N) laid in that oddly comfortable bed for what felt like hours, which were really only minutes, before she found the strength to sit up, if only a little.

A slip of pink paper which rested on the nightstand caught her eye. Picking it up she read the note, relaying that, if she was to wake up, that everyone wanted to let her know that the war is truly over and that her boyfriend was safe, all thanks to her. A breath she didn’t know she was holding was finally let free, muscles relaxing.

It was some form of a miracle that allowed her to still be here, like the world was telling her it wasn’t time for her to leave just yet. Not that she was complaining or anything, but she couldn’t help the giggle that came with the thought that the similarities between her and her dad are starting to get weird.

The click of the door pulled her from her funny thought, and in walked the last face she saw before blacking out. He really was okay, just like the note said.

“We have to talk”

“We do, don’t we.” she smiled and he returned it, pulling up a chair. For the rest of the day (assuming based on the light that poured in through the window) the two lovers talked, expressing how glad they were that the other was okay, what happened after she collapsed and what their next steps would be. When everything was done, her boyfriend climbed into the bed with her, mindful of the injuries around her whole body, and with such gentleness pulled her flush against his chest.

That evening they slept in each other’s arms, calmed by the sound of their mixed breathing and heartbeats, because later that night they’ll have to part again.

“Tell me again what you are?” Kyle rubbed his temple, trying his hardest to wrap his head around her claim. The hangover he had wasn’t helping in this situation either.

“I’m a vampire, a lesser vampire to be more exact”

“I get that, but what is that?”

“Don’t worry too much about it, just know that if I was to bite you you wouldn’t turn and I’m not immortal. Now go drink some water. Can’t believe magic is a thing yet you’d get hung up on mythology...” she muttered the last part, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I would just like to go on record and say I knew all along” Edgar piped up, his usual innocent smile on his face. Zero and Jonah scoffed.

“And how did you exactly?” Zero asked his teacher. The Jack of Hearts smiled just a little wider, fetching something from his pocket. The glass glittered in the moonlight.

“So that’s where my last bottle went! You had it!”

“Indeed. You did well to hide it Alice, but not well enough if I was able to find it”

“Why do you have it anyway?”

“I saw our dear Alice drinking it one day. She told me it was wine but by the viscosity I could tell she was lying. It also smelt like blood. So, I did some digging around her room while she was gone.”

“Of course, only you would be able to smell it and instantly recognize it like that...” Jonah hissed under his breath. The statement went unheard by all except the subject of the comment, who simply continued to smile like he heard nothing.

“That would explain why ya sometimes left the training grounds all of a sudden too when someone got hurt” Fenrir pointed out, the Black Army nodding along.

“We just thought you were squeamish...” Luka mumbled.

“That would also explain the report I got saying we had a shortage of blood...” Lancelot spoke up, staring down at (Y/N).

“I... got hungry and didn’t have enough?” she shrugged, a nervous smile on her face while averting her eyes to the side. Really, it was half a lie, she was hungry. It was just that the liquid was right there at the time and it’s scent was so sweet to her - she couldn’t help herself!

“But,” the King of Hearts continued, a small, soft smile blooming on his face, “I’m willing to pardon it, you did save us all. So, thank you, for all you’ve done. Is there anything you’d like as a reward?”

“I’m honored King Lancelot, but right now I think I have to go home. There are some people that are no doubt missing me.”

“Very well. Then you are welcomed back at the Red Army anytime”

“The Black Army will welcome you too, little lady” Sirius added, Ray nodding in approval.

“Right, the room you used will be waiting for you should you ever come back”

“Ohhhh please come back Alice, the Black Army just won’t be the same without you!” Seth whined dramatically.

“Thank you... all of you” (Y/N) gave a closed eye smile, the light of the moon illuminating behind her. A hand suddenly cupped her cheek, the contact warm and prompting her to open her eyes.

“I will see you again right?” he asked, low enough that only the two of them could hear it.

“Yes, just as we promised last night.” she whispered back, leaning in for a kiss, one he returned.

The rabbit hole that connected their worlds opened up, a spotlight like light shining onto it. Pulling away her hand clutched the bag she came with, along with the items she’s obtained, and she turned one last time. Her eyes roamed over each face a final time, stopping on his.

“See you later everyone!” A chorus of goodbyes paired with waves and she stepped backwards, falling down, down, down the hole like she did just one short month ago.

“The man at the stall said he saw her here one night, there must be a clue.” Napoleon stated, eyes hard with determination, certain that there has to be something here linking to his missing daughter. Deep down though he’s consumed with emotion, anger, fear and a great sadness.

Anger at himself, he should’ve been more persistent with her taking her rapier. Then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

The fear and sadness are a mix of the same reason, he’s sad and afraid that he’ll never see her again, that he’s lost her even after promising to protect her from the moment she was born.

And yet, as the third week of having nothing he’s starting to lose hope, and the others can tell.

“Napoleon...” Jean whispered, placing a firm hand on the man’s shoulder. “I think it’s time to head back to the inn...”

He wants to stay out longer, search every nook and cranny of this damn park a thousand times more.

“Jean’s right...” Isaac added, tilting his head and gesturing with it in the direction of where they’re staying, “we can look some more in the morning if you want.”

“Maybe you’re right...” the Demi-vampire sighed, beginning his slow, reluctant trudge to the cozy London inn.

“Oof! Ow, I guess it’s a bumpy landing on the way back too...” the three heard the thud and rustle before the voice, but Napoleon was already sprinting in its direction.

“(Y/N)!?” The call of her name erased the pain of the landing and any other insignificant thought, her eyes darting around through the trees.

“Dad!?” She shouted back. An urgency to her father again surged through her.

He sped faster, urged on by the sound of her voice. It’s her, he knows it is, and she’s alive.

Emerging from behind a tree Napoleon comes to a grounding halt, eyes wide at the sight in front of him. She’s there, right there, albeit a little banged up, but she’s safe - that’s all that matters.

Rushing up he engulfs her in a hug, loosening it only minimally when she let out a hiss of pain.

“Where have you been? Who hurt you?” his questions are rushed, breathless as he looks her over, the amount of bandages on her alarming.

“You’ll never guess...” she suddenly smiled.

“What?” He questioned, the smile on her face making him believe that she wasn’t taking this seriously. Yet her next words shocked him, enough for a visible reaction to show, and it became obvious that the two would have to have a long, long chat.

“I fought in and won a revolution...and I protected the weak... just like I said I would...”

…

“Oh I also have a boyfriend...”

“You have a what???”

Fun fact: at first this was going to be the MC/Reader as Leo’s daughter and she would’ve fixed the Black Army’s stuff or Fenrir’s gun, impressing them, but!!! We all know that ~war~ is a thing in IkeRev, so behold here we are!

[Masterlist]

#cybird ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikemen revolution #ikevamp x reader #ikerev x reader #black army x reader #red army x reader #ikerev black army #ikerev red army #platonic x reader #daughter!reader #ikemen napoleon #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution black army #ikemen revolution red army

118 notes · View notes

meenah-chan · 4 years ago

Text

Requested by: @zimelu-eloni-nova-lycan (hope you see this since I can't tag you ಥ‿ಥ)

My apologies in advance if Malleus is OOC. Other than wanting to play TW and doing a bit of research of him, I know nothing 😂 I never thought of taking requests coz I'm a slow writer but it was quite interesting so I did it anyways. (And took daaays to finish 😂)

To Thine Own Self Be True

An OM! Brothers x GN! Dark Fae MC (slight OM! X Twisted Wonderland crossover)

5.47k words

Genre: flangst

Trigger warnings: self harm, violence, self depreciation? (cringe jk) Read at your own discretion.

"You're an incomplete puzzle... I hope you find your missing pieces." And thus, they were sent to someplace they didn't know...

They... have always been alone. But Y/N is not lonely. They have Malleus, a powerful yet caring brother. They have their grandmother, that even as busy as she is, tries to show her love as much as possible.

They are the only one they need. As long as they have them, they needn't anything else. Or atleast they think so.

"As a part of royal family, you have to broaden your horizon." But they think otherwise.

Before Malleus' departure for Night Raven College, he left Y/N a word, "You're an incomplete puzzle, Y/N. I hope you find your missing pieces." and that was months ago, and they were still confused by it.

Incomplete puzzle... It doesn't feel like they are. They are content of what they have. They capable of doing most tasks perfectly. They fulfill their responsibilities impeccably. It's not like they can't live on their own either. Having no friends and acquaintances but they're two family members is also fine. They don't need any more. No one who could stand their presence anyways.

The intimidating dark energy far more destructive than a fae possessed, in which Y/N could never control. Those menacing, sharp green eyes. Their skin as pale as the dead corpse, and lips charred black. But most of all, those pair of disgustingly sharp, black horns that keeps on growing back no matter how hard they try to get rid of it.

Y/N is the epitome of fear. They knew it more than anyone. If they were to be reckoned that way, it is better to maintain distance from everyone.

But I should fulfill my duty, atleast. They thought, fortifying their resolve as they stood before the future King of Devildom and his butler. "Welcome to Devildom, Y/N Draconia."

"It's an honor to be of your acquaintance, Prince Diavolo." Placing a palm on their chest, Y/N bowed.

As per the two Kingdom's agreement, they were to live in a safe place different from a lavish lifestyle they have been used to inside their gold plated walls. And thus they were led by the Future king's shadow, Barbatos, to their new home. The House of Lamentation.

House of Lamentation. What a gloomy and dreadful place, befitting a sinister being like me. they scoff.

But the sight the dark fae witnessed within that walls was not within their expectations.

"Beel! Don't eat the my wallet! H–Hey, I said let go! My goldie'll snap! B–Belphie, help me!" A white-haired man is pulling a leather wallet from the teeth of a bulky orange-haired one.

"Smells chicken mushroom oil." While the orange head kept their teeth sunk into the wallet almost ripped into two. "It's just a drop, stop going crazy over it!"

"Belphie, wake up! You promised you'll help me with clearing dungeons today! The raid will start anytime now!!" A violet haired male violently shakes an asleep man in blue but the man is far from dazed at all.

"Hrmm... Five more minutes—" "We have no more time!! I can't play with a missing player!"

A feminine faced guy appeared right in front of them, instantly invading their comfort zone and kept locking eyes with them. "Ohh? Who is this with you Barbatos? Ahh, The one moving in! You're quite early, darling. Ignore those bunch in the back and play with me?"

"Behave, you fools!!" A booming voice reverberates and in an instant, the rowdy bunch is silenced. "Such a disgrace..."

Except for one, who didn't make any ruckus until that very moment.

A bucket came flitting up in the air and in the next second, all of its contents all poured on the man who controlled the ruckus a while ago.

"SAAAAATAN!!" It was an utter chaos. This place far from the gloomy place they have in their imagination. It is filled with rabid demons that could obliterate them were they to join forces, and now Y/N have to adjust in this new environment.

"I see it's not a great time to introduce myself." Said Y/N, yet the only one who probably heard them is the butler beside them. "If you'll excuse me, I would like to know where my room is."

"As you wish, your Excellency. Allow me to lead you the way." The butler responded to them. They left the common room, where the rowdy ones moments ago, were trying to suppress the supposedly-most decent of the seven, from destroying the mansion.

Y/N usually do not receive a normal greetings on the events they've been into or more like, forced to come by either their grandmother or by Malleus. It could be the fairies either— gives them space with no one dare shorten the distance; reluctantly greet them before leaving them as fast as they could or; flat out ignore them.

Yet so far, the experience I have today is by all odds, the most insulting way I have ever been greeted. Y/N clasps their trembling hands as they sat on the bed.

I wish this will end sooner. This will be a hell for me...

Almost everyday is a crazy, eventful day. Far different than their everyday life in the Valley of Thorns, their homeland. First impression doesn't really matter to Y/N, but for some reason, they couldn't stand them since day 1. Sure, they haven't done anymore distasteful things like the rude way of welcoming them. Still, the members of the family are crazily weird in their own ways. And they hate it.

Lucifer is the eldest of the brothers. The one who leads the brothers and manage everything in place.

"As your family have wished, you were to live differently than you have thus far. So I won't exempt you with the cooking and housework."

"As a part of Royal family, I expect great things from you. I won't tolerate screw ups."

"Remember to complete your tasks. I am assigned by Diavolo to take care of you, so I will check on your activities throughout your stay here." He is an ass. A bossy and dominating dictator who think he could order a royalty like them.

But one time, when they entered his study, they saw a scene they never thought they'll ever perceive.

*Tak* A fountain pen falling from his gripless hand.

He was splayed on his desk filled with tall stacks of paper, out cold. Y/N didn't know they would witness such vulnerable side of such condescending demon.

So they chose to put off their business for tomorrow, placing his coat over him and letting him rest.

But the event didn't occur only once. Atleast twice a week of exact time before midnight, he's always been unconscious on his desk. That's when Y/N realized: he is not strict and short tempered for no reason.

As the eldest, he took it to himself to be the father figure to the brothers, all while perfectly doing his job as Diavolo's right-hand man. He fulfills his job with perfection. But perfection doesn't come without hardwork nor sacrifices. For the sake of his great responsibility he sacrifice himself, working so hard until he drop on his desk.

With thoughts of him made Y/N ponder over something.

Does having a father feels like having a Lucifer in my life? Maybe it is, they never knew since they never remember their's. He isn't as bad as they thought he were if they think it that way. That is praiseworthy, as they think so themself and deserve some respect.

No more stern expressions whenever speaking to him. Being more compliant if his instruction is reasonable. Thanking him even for a simple thing he does for them.

Soon, they noticed he doesn't nitpick them either and praise them for every job well done. The dark fae may still be annoyed with him but that's not a bad outcome at all.

And then there's Mammon, the second eldest, who is supposed to assist the eldest.

"Ye're a royalty right? So ye're loaded. I'm in a pinch right now so let me borrow from you." He leans on their shoulder, with his smug grin.

"Don't listen to that fool. It's past 200 years and he still haven't paid his debts to me yet."

"Shut up, you otaku!"

Behind violet-haired appears the black haired demon. "MAMMON..."

"EEK— W–Wait!! Lucifer, this is not wha–ACK—!!" Mammon is a scum. A rude demon who could care less of his words and language. Trouble is where he is. Even so, in his tough exterior, Y/N took note of a soft side.

Y/N saw him one time, poking at the mopping otaku demon outside his room. "Yo Levi. What you doin' there?"

"Just let me be... I lose my raid last time because I couldn't play... Now I can't even bear looking at my PC... No one would want to play to a no-show gamer like me..."

"Hmm... Then, it can't be helped. C'mon, your big brother Mammon will play with you!"

"R–Really..?"

"Yeah, Yeah. Let's play to your heart's content" He pulled him up and push him inside his room.

Consoling a sad brother, lending a helping hand when they need it. He may not look like it, but Mammon is also taking good care of his brothers. All the emotional support Lucifer fails to give his brothers, Mammon provides.

So before Mammon entered the room, the dark fae decided to tap his shoulder, earning his attention. "You really love your brothers."

"W–Wha... Where does... who loves—"

"That's really admirable." They promptly reach out a bottle of a jet-black faerie dust only they could concoct. Mammon gingerly took it from them and scanned the inside. "That may help you settle some of your debts. Then..." After giving the bottle, they went on their way.

"AAAAHHHH!! THIS IS ULTRA RARE!" As expected to a man who could appraise goods.

They remember Malleus from his caring side, they couldn't help but smile and commend the yellow demon. I miss my brother...

Leviathan on the other hand, has a different case. He is the third-born of that household. A timid person... At first glance, atleast.

They just can't understand him. He spoke in language they couldn't wrap their head around like, "LOL! ROFLMAO!", "Tss, normie..."

It is tolerable, at least. What they can't tolerate is the fact that,

"UUWAAH!! MY RURI-CHAN LIMITED EDITION COBALT PIN AND FIGURINE IS HERE!!" He is, by far, the loudest. His sudden and unexpected outbursts kept on triggering every jumpy cells in their system.

Leviathan is too hyped he seemed to enter his own dimension. He skipped through the corridor, he sung a Ruri-whatever song that is, until, "Ahh—" he made a misstep in the stairs, a few steps away from them.

Y/N dashed and caught them barely in time, with firm hold between his shoulder blades and another to his package, which should be flying right now but was pressed secured to his chest.

"You should be more careful or you'll hurt yourself. Your treasured package almost fell." They sighed.

"... An angel has descended." He stared at them in awe. As he move his hand to the box, he touched their hand. That's when their position fianally sinks in to him. His face flared beet red and in a few seconds blew a fuse, passing out right on the spot.

"... What a troublesome demon..." With no other choice but to bring him themself, he carried the unconscious Leviathan up to their room. After opening the door, what welcomed them is a messy room.

No, not messy. The room is filled with items and materials of all sorts. Tons of CDs, figurines and posters on shelves and walls. Stuff toys and pillows of all shapes and sizes. Hanged intricate costumes and clothes, which in just a glance, they knew is made with effort. Even pins, threads and needle atop a... Sewing machine? Did he made all of this?

Y/N took another glance on the other side of the room. There he saw three monitors with various programs registered. A game, video editor and a Photoshop... I wonder what else can this man do?

Is this what they call a hobby? Such passion and dedication in pursuit of doing what he loves... An unfamiliar feeling for this dark fae.

They... can't really understand this man. Not at all... But I can now see him in another light, I guess...

The one who sought Y/N first were Beelzebub, the sixth-born. A bulky, tall demon who loves to eat. They were having a snack on the balcony when the older twin sniffs his way in. Such action that freaked the dark fae out internally, considering the sight they witnessed when they first moved in. The fact that they saw a few times 'accidentally' eating inedible things doesn't helped at all either.

"I followed the smell from the kitchen. Your cake smells delicious!" The drooling giant stood by them, and they couldn't take another sip from their tea.

"Hmm... Help yourself." Or you may help yourself with my flesh if I didn't satisfy your hunger.

"Really?!" He sat oposite to them and within minutes, all the plates on the table were wiped clean. "That was delicious!... Ahh that's right. Y/N, why aren't you eating with us during meals?"

"I'm used to eating by myself."

"But why? Eating with someone make the food taste better." Y/N doubt that'll be the case if that someone is him, who could definitely eat them if his appetite cries its needs.

Beelzebub touched his chin, thinking. "Hmm... How about I eat with you during snacks time? I'll bring food you'll definitely like!"

"Ah—" And they lost their timing. His eyes sparkles like stars and the pure happiness in his voice made it impossible for them to refuse. They wouldn't know what he could do were they to decline what he desire.

Since then he would appear without fail during Y/N's snack time, sharing both of their food with each other.

They tried to slowly end such dangerous activity yet, the enthusiasm in his eyes whenever he eat held them back. In the end, Y/N conceded, increasing their baked goods everyday to sate the needs of the ball of sunshine before them– who could bring warmth or burn them. As a response he will also eat it all like it's his first time eating their goods.

He is a man of few words yet, also quite easy to read, especially when eating the sweets they made themself. A straight forward person who means just as he say.

He would even sometimes bring his other twin, who will eat a few bites before snoozing.

"Beel really likes you, you know..." They glanced from their teacup to the youngest, seating beside them as the gobbling twin is busy with his food.

Belphegor stares in an ever-drowsy eyes. He is the man they least interacted with. How can they? Whenever they see him, he is always asleep. And it's not like Y/N is interested in communicating with him or anyone at all. "He even does his research for everything he brings you here. I don't know if you knew, but he really want to convince you to eat meals with everyone."

"...Ehh? Why? We're not even..." Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Because he loves everything you make. He wants to talk to you ever since the first time you cook, but you're too antisocial to even eat with us."

"Says the demon who is always sleeping whenever I see him." Y/N snorts before taking a bite from the cupcake Beel brought. Hmm... this is good...

"...You, are you getting enough sleep?" Belphegor peers at their face.

"...None of your business."

"Whatever..." He frowns before burrying his face on his pillow.

What a keen observant. Y/N thought.

They've also been observing him since the first day. They share a lot of classes together and the dark fae knew, he is someone who rarely attend his classes, and whenever he does, he is always asleep. They also never saw him hold a book, much more read it. Yet, when they have exams, he finishes halfway the alloted time, almost the same time as them and sleeps after. The worst thing is that he could pass them easily.

He... is a dormant monstrosity. They conclude as they unlock the door to their room the day after. But before they do so, they noticed something.

Beside the door is an unfamiliar paper bag and inside... is a pillow, a bit caved it to the top center—similar to the one they use back to their home to be able to sleep well. It also comes with a note:

'The caneles and the stew is passable. You can throw away the pillow if you don't want it. Just know that it took me a great deal of effort to buy that.'

Really, what a frightening observant.

And there is Satan, the fourth-born, a pretty decent guy who craves for nothing but knowledge. If Y/N may say, he is the one they spend the most time with, though it's not that much.

"What are you reading?" Voicing not a word, they faced him the book cover.

"L’intelletto e Il Cuore... Hmm, that's a good choice." With at least 3 meters away from him, and few to no words exchange between them inside the library, it's not really that much.

He is a rational and intelligent man who respects personal space. Though, from time to time he would snicker eerily between the silence they have, holding either a cursed or homicide book. Creepy.

"What did you say...? The books you borrowed from me... Fell in the river? And it was washed away...?" And when he is angry, all his rationality is thrown out of the window.

"I–I will replace it I promise–" Pleads the peach-haired demon, kneeling before him.

"Replace, you say...? Didn't you know they were a Century membership gift to me from the Bibliomagicus Guild? Do you think that's replaceable...? Ha... Haha...HAHAHAHA!! THEN WHY DON'T YOU REPLACE THEM WITH YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE, HUH?!"

His wrath makes Y/N tremble, like all the bookshelves and books present in the library. Right, the books, the bookshelves. He'll destroy everything if this continues.

"Somnus Enim a Dum." So in a snap they cast a spell, amplified by their own dark pixie dust, and render him unconscious.

"Y/N!" That night he showed up in the library, frantically and still disheveled clothes and hair.

"Thank you. I don't know what would've happen if you're not there. And I also apologize you get to see that side of me." It's the first time they ever saw him smile without looking at the book. A smile similar to their brother.

"You're weird. You got so angry because of books that you'll ruin all the other irreplaceable books here."

"..."

"Don't mind it. I'd feel bad if the books are ruined."

"...Right." He chuckled, brushing his hair with his fingers and fixing his clothes to place. He then picked up the book he's reading, pulling the other sofa to sit beside them.

Now that's annoying. Nevertheless they let him. For they're a mere guest.

The fifth-born, Asmodeus, is not a problem back then. Having only a few occasional invitations for salon and parties, they could decline politely. But after the book incident, everything about his approach changes.

Since then, there was Asmodeus, everywhere!

In the classroom, in the library, in the music room, in the planetarium, in the balcony, in the bed, even the bathroom! He won't give them a break!

"Y/N~ I noticed you're always with Satan in the library. Are you getting along well? Beel too, you always bake and eat with him. That's so unfair! And you invite Belphie without me? Don't tell me you already like one of them?"

"If you'll choose one of us, shouldn't you choose me, the most beautiful demon of them all? I swear I can love you thousandfold than any of them, but... of course you can only be my second~~"

"What's with you and Lucifer? You always went to him every night. Is it a nightly endeavor? Hey~? Y/N, don't ignore me~!" He is a complete chatterbox. A motormouthed demon who don't know when to shut up.

But being with him comes with a few merits. Despite not looking like it, Asmodeus is a real gentleman. He maybe not as keen as Belphegor's capability to observe, but Asmodeus is an attentive and thoughtful demon. He does his everything to provide every small help he could give to them.

Whilst not needing help, it's much better than him being a clingy, dead weight. Y/N tries to look at the bright side.

"But this is tiring..." Y/N sighed, closing the book they are holding.

"Are you tired of reading? C'mon, let's go out and breathe fresh air!" I'm tired of you, you idiot.

"If you want to go out, you can go." The dark fae massaged their temple. It's been throbbing from time to time after that incident with Satan and Asmodeus bugged them.

"No! You've always been cooping yourself here or your room since coming here. You have to go out from time to time or you'll wither away!"

"You're so noisy Asmo. Y/N said they don't want to go." Asmodeus pout at Satan sitting beside Y/N, before pulling the dark fae out of the library and House of Lamentation.

"I'm telling you, I don't need this." Asmodeus holds 5 hangers of clothes, pondering which one fit them best.

"But~ It's such a waste for a beautiful person like you if you don't try dolling yourself up..." They stare at Asmodeus as if he just said the most ridiculous thing he could ever say.

"Don't tell me..." Asmodeus stared at them in disbelief, gasping dramatically like he always does,t "Y/N, YOU'RE GORGEOUS! DON'T EVER THINK YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE A DROP DEAD BEAUTY AND—" They covered his lips before he could even shout louder in such a public place.

He then pulled their hands off after a few moments. "And look! A bit of blush suits you! And black lipstick—" Y/N let him dressed them up— in exchange of shutting up. He chose meticulously, accenting every parts that they consider an abomination. A dizzying position they were in.

But the real deal has yet to come. What's worse than being bothered by a bug? More bugs...

"Asmo, are you nuts! You're hogging them all to yourself!" Mammon barged in their room as Asmo is applying makeup to them who gave up on him for a while now.

"Y/N couldn't come to our snack time because of you." Beel and Belphegor followed close behind, clearly unamused of Asmo's action.

"I haven't even got a chance to introduce them to the wonders of anime and games!" So do is Leviathan.

"They prefer reading in the library more, right Y/N?" Satan rest his back on the door frame, crossed arms.

"Excuse me? If I may say, Satan, Beel and Belphie are the one who took their time more than I!"

"YOU—" And their greatest fear since living in Devildom occurs. All hell broke loose. An all out brawl of the short tempered demons before them with all the six brothers, a thread away from transforming and blasting everything they touch. No... That's not it. Without transforming, they're already smashing everything into pieces.

The dressers. The desk. The chairs and mirrors. Everything but the bed they are sitting on.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING HERE!" The last and the strongest of the brothers made his appearance, yelling in his most intimidating voice.

And they...finally snapped.

"Each and everyone of you... GET. OUT!!!" Such horror reflected on their eyes, with their whole being trembling uncontrollably. Tears poured down one after another. All of the emotions the brothers have never seen them make all spilled before them. As if a predator threatened to the end of their life.

On their hands...

were horns severed from their own head. The seven demons were so taken aback their bodies moved on their own to comply to Y/N's order... or more like, plead.

And the doors were completely closed.

They never left their ransacked room. They wouldn't open their doors to anything. No food, gifts nor even apologies. All but the brothers' words received a single response: "Malleus... I want my brother."

Hence the brothers and future king have no choice but to call him as soon as possible, or they will perish inside such place, alone like they've always been.

"Thank you for taking good care of my sibling. I hope you will continue so in the future."

"We also hoped we could. Yet considering the circumstances, I doubt they would want to stay here a second longer."

"Let—" but before Malleus could even finished his sentence, Y/N came flying down on him.

The distressed fae buried their face in their safe haven's chest. He then proceed carrying them in his arms, assuring them they are safe.

Lucifer led them to the music room, giving them privacy in their conversation.

"You've become so light, Y/N. And what happened to your horns?"

"...I wanna go home."

"Why? Do you hate this place?"

"I'm scared of them since the first day."

"That's understandable... But is that all?" Y/N stare at him in disbelief, while Malleus smiling softly at them.

"...Then what else... should I feel? I know I'm a monster... But that doesn't mean I could live with such monstrous demons! I'm just a monster with a weak heart!"

"Then you can blame it all on me. I'm the one who chose this place for you after all." All words were blown off Y/N's mind. The furrow between their eyebrows disappears as their face relaxes.

"Brother... But why?"

"I want you to realize your own self."

"..."

"Now answer me. You said you're scared of them, but do you hate them? Do you want to leave this place so badly? Is that really everything you've felt in this place?"

"Of course! I... I..." Y/N already knew the answer to his question, way before he even asked.

"They were annoying, noisy and self-centered bunch who does things as they pleased. They keep dragging me on their antics, I never had a peace of mind... I hated it, I despise it. I..." They bit their lips.

"I felt so frustrated! Why do they look so lively and happy despite being so unruly? They're always on each others neck yet they were having fun? Why?! And hobbies? How can they have such thing? I have nothing of sort! I just wake up day after day, desperately searching for something and fill this empty void inside me!"

"I fulfill my responsibilities without fail, on what cause? I have no purpose! Seeing that demons made me feel so miserable with my existence!"

They looked on their lap, holding back the tears on verge of falling. "What do they have that I don't? They're also the strongest, incredibly so that even I shook when they unleash their power! So why aren't they isolated like I am? How can they live a normal life unlike me?!"

"I think you already know the answer."

"...Because... They rely on each other. I never relied on anyone nor let anyone rely on me..." Malleus' smile widens when they hit the nail on the head.

"You're a strong person, Y/N. You won't even depend on us, not until today. You're capable of anything. You're just afraid of any more rejection, of being left behind." He paused and lift their face to meet his eyes, "Diavolo and others explained to me what happened. They said the incident frightened you. Yet knowing you, I doubt it is fear. Will you tell me why you blew off?"

"...I was overwhelmed. They were fighting over me. It never happened to me before so don't know what to feel. The attention was too much that I hated it. And I don't know how to respond to them..."

"So you brushed them off and isolated yourself." They nod weakly.

"And you snapped your horns to show them you're not who they think you are; to scare them off."

"Something like that..." Malleus smiled at them as he pet their head. "See? It's not bad being honest to yourself. Do you still want to leave, now that you let it all off your chest?"

Y/N shooked their head. "I want to stay."

"My Y/N is amazing... To surpass all the beings who estranged them. You're all grown up now." He held them in his arms, Y/N nuzzling onto his chest.

"Come on, they've been waiting for you for the longest time. You know what to do, right?"

"Yes." They left the room, Y/N clinging to him like never before. As childish as it seems, Malleus knew they grew a lot in just a few months of living in Devildom. It is indeed a great decision to choose the brothers to take care of them. They were no longer the incomplete puzzle he saw before he left for his studies.

"Y–Y/N..." Waiting in the common room are the seven brothers with Diavolo and Barbatos.

"W–We understand if you really want to l–leave." Mammon looked down as he clenched his fist.

"It was our fault." Leviathan followed.

"We've been insensitive, pressuring you despite knowing you're not accustomed interacting with a lot of people." Satan said with a serious frown.

"We even destroyed your belongings." Asmodeus glanced away, holding onto Satan's jacket.

"We'll make it up to you in any form."

"Y/N, sorry." Belphegor and Beel voiced respectively.

"It was due to my negligence you have to experience such incident. I also want to apologize." Lucifer held his palm to his chest for a slight bow.

"N–No!" Y/N strongly shook their head, "I should be the one to apologize! I'm so sorry!!" before bowing deeply.

"Y/N!? No, please raise your head—" Diavolo held Lucifer's shoulder to stop him like Malleus cued to let his sibling continue.

"It was all my fault! I've been a coward all this time. I was wrong for trying to push you all away when you don't mean harm. It was all my fault for venting all my frustrations to you. Please, if you would still allow it, I want to stay a bit longer."

"Y/N you are more than welcome here so please raise your head now. We don't deserve your apologies." Satan was the first one who walked towards them to raise their head.

"Y/N?!!" But as he did so, a crying Y/N appears in the brothers' view.

"This is the first time I will ever ask someone but," they sob and sniff, "will you guys be my friends?"

"Y–Yes, so please stop crying!" As conflicted as the brothers are, being asked such question that could hinder their future plans with them, they were forced to agree to their wish instantly.

Let's leave it for another day... The same phrase runs in the thoughts of the brothers, a very rare occurence to happen once in a millenium.

With Asmodeus' lead—he, Mammon, Leviathan, and Beel wrapped their arms around them to console the crying faerie. Lucifer, Satan and Belphegor stood a feet away from them, watching the five in the middle.

As things calms down, they decided to sit on the same dinner table for the very first time. Food were served by Barbatos, who prepares who knows when. He could actually have predicted such outcome for all they know.

The place were so warm, and lively. "This tastes wonderful." That's an understatement. The food have the richest taste than everything Y/N ate in their entire life. "You're right, Beel. Food were best eaten with someone." Beel have them a toothy grin. "I'm glad you get me."

After the meal, Y/N fell asleep on the spot. "Hehe, they're so carefree now." Belphegor played with their fringe. They didn't woke them up and instead carry them in a new room, letting them have the deep sleep they couldn't have for days.

"Congratulations, for being Y/N's first friends. I'll leave them in your care." Malleus bid his farewell to everyone, not bothering of waiting for Y/N to wake up. "I also hope this incident will be the last one."

"Yes, we won't let such thing happen again, and ensure a comfortable life for Y/N throughout their stay here." Diavolo answers in stead of everyone. The brothers are not in the shape to reply as they absorb Malleus' first sentence.

First friend. Such a bitter-sweet word. Whether the word stings them or not, it doesn't matter. It won't stop the brothers from trying to achieve the same goal as subtle as possible.

And so, a not-so-obvious scramble goes on.

This took longer than I expect 🤣😂 In all honesty, it was quite challenging, making a blatant All Brothers x MC. I also don't have a plot and flow until I actually wrote it sksksk dunno if that's a good or bad thing 😂🤣 and this was the longest one I wrote for the past half a year.

Masterlist

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quillandink333 · 3 years ago

Text

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part VII

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

It took me far too long to recover from the discovery I’d made deep beneath the foundation of the Sheikah estate. Who knew how many more had been forced to suffer at the hands of the Yiga over the course of that period? It was high time to end this era of tyranny and grief, and to have anyone but myself take the lead was not an option. Whatever truth was waiting for me at the end of all this, so be it. I had to see it with my own two eyes. I had to see her.

To help set my plan into motion, the only person I had left to turn to was Prosecutor Sigatur, and though she had once held my mother in the utmost respect, she had benevolently volunteered to present my findings to the courts in my stead. As confident as I was in my argument and as desperately as I desired to be there for Link, I couldn’t quite stomach the thought of taking the stand and exposing myself to the discrimination of the public eye again.

And so, as the proceedings went on for the following few days, I spent my time back at the apartment, making myself useful by poring through my mountainous collection of data on the eighteen-year-old incident that I’d amassed over the years and had been keeping in my office until now. Now that I had been let go, my flat was practically overflowing with newspaper clippings, copies of investigation reports, and whatever else not. Every time I would open the door upon arriving home, I’d get hit in the face with the musty stench of dust and old magazines that I had nowhere to properly put away.

Though my collection was indeed vast, it was far more so in physical volume than in information. Most of the documents in it were no more than different accounts of the same basic facts. All the useful info I could glean was that the fire at City Hall had taken the lives of most, if not all, administrative officials who had been there working at the time, and those members of council who may or may not have been killed had never been seen nor heard from again, their bodies left for ash. And according to my sources, Mayor Hyrule had been amongst them.

There was a certain line in her letter to Auntie Impa that had tipped me off to her current whereabouts. “...I have been keeping watch over you from the ashes of the afterlife...” The imagery laced so intricately into those words had struck a nerve. There was only one place in this town that both would’ve been of any significance to her and was covered in ash: the crumbling ruins where the former City Hall had once stood.

Having reached the point of culmination in my plotting, I invited the newly reinstated Constable Fyori over for tea. The two of us meeting in my office would have been preferable, but we’d just have to make do with this for the time being.

“If my hypothesis is correct, then I am about to enter the belly of the beast,” I deliberated. Seated on my settee and restlessly tapping the floor with his heel, Link listened with both eyes and ears as I paced about the room. “Ideally, I’d have some sort of backup at my disposal. Maybe I could phone Urbosa and ask her to lend me a hand, just once more...”

“If I may,” he butted in, “why are you speaking as though you’ll be on your own?”

I hadn’t been nearly as prepared as I probably should have been for such a question. “Well...” I stammered, forcing the shame of admitting that I was too afraid to confront my own mother alone down my throat, “would you happen to know someone who’d be willing to accompany me?”

His mouth gaped at my answer. Then jutting his neck out and laying his palms across his chest, he stood up. “Me!”

I took a step back. “Link, what are you talking about?” If something happened to him as a result of this, which was more likely to occur than not, then his last moments would surely be filled with nothing but fear and regret. Not to mention, I would never forgive myself. “I really shouldn’t have to remind you. She’s the reason your family—”

“I know,” he snapped. His eyes were burning a hole straight through me. It was almost frightening. “Believe me, I’m not about to go forgetting it again any time soon.”

“Then why...?” I half-whispered in the most deathly serious tone I could muster.

“Because I’m tired of hiding.”

A harsh breeze rattled the blinds against the window frame. It took me by surprise, but he wasn’t phased by it in the least.

“I’m tired of turning a blind eye and acting like none of the horrible things she’s done ever happened.” I tried to think of a snappy rebuttal, but none came to mind. He’d said these words as though they’d been burning on the tip of his tongue for an untold number of days. He’d had a lot of time to reflect between his false conviction and his acquittal, so it seemed. He and I were of the same mind, of course, but... “And, because...” He stopped himself. Some of the fire in his gaze had gone out in smoke. I got my hopes up when he broke eye contact for a moment or two, and I could all but sense the resolve in him dying, just a little bit.

But then, emitting a slight sound of frustration, he stepped closer. His hands gripped my shoulders, and he pulled me in with the force of a hurricane.

When his lips made impact with mine, my eyes flew open.

He kissed me with what could only be described as reckless abandon. His mouth scraped across my own, and I could feel every ounce of his aggravation in the way his fingertips bit down on my skin alone. It was rough and clumsy and pressed, as if this were sincerely the last and only chance he would ever have.

All of a sudden, we were seventeen again, and standing in the middle of our secondary school’s greenhouse. The scent of dust was replaced with that of lush flora on all sides of us, and sunlight shining in from above caressed the top of my head with its warmth. This was the very scene that I’d used to daydream about time and time again, wasting more hours of each day than I’d have liked to admit at the time.

Now his fingers clung to the corners of my face like I was made of paper, his lips brushing mine almost imperceptibly as his bated breath fanned out against them. When my eyes opened and met with his, his complexion had turned a delicate rouge, and his faultless aquamarines had been clouded over by doubt. In that moment, all I could think to do was to make that doubt vanish. So I ignored the distant sense of guilt that yet lingered and seized the navy blue tie around his neck. Our forms collided, and a sigh like trees swaying at the mercy of a light breeze in summer grazed my cheek.

With Ms. Sigatur’s aid, the constabulary had been more than willing to cooperate and construct a perimeter of officers around the old City Hall’s charred skeleton. Just the fact that the vicinity wasn’t littered in tarps and rubbish and other evidence of homelessness was proof enough of my theory. And yet, the way the wind howled and that the only signs of life were the crows circling up above filled the pit of my stomach with an unease that I could not ignore.

“You know what to do as soon as you sense any sign of danger, I trust?” Urbosa had both her hands planted firmly on my shoulders, bending down to meet my gaze with that same, old look of worry.

I gave a firm nod, never breaking eye contact. “Of course.”

“And you have Fyori and the others looking out for you, so don’t be afraid to call for them if—”

“I’ll be fine, Urbosa. I—”

“No, you will not.”

All I wanted was to get this over with, but she just had to go and remind me of the risks. No matter what I wished for, it wouldn’t change the fact that this was, in all likelihood, a suicide mission. Which was why I’d been so adamant in refusing to allow Link to come along initially.

Said constable was watching the two of us out of the corner of his eye, ever the vigilante as he stood facing the stronghold a mere half dozen paces away.

I heaved a constricted sigh and looked the prosecutor earnestly in the eye. With a deep breath, “I understand how worried you are for me, but please, don’t try to stop me. I’m aware of the risk and I’m prepared to face the consequences. I wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t confident in my ability to succeed.”

Her stance softened, if only just slightly. “If Hilda weren’t still alive, her spirit would haunt me for letting any harm come to you.”

“But that won’t happen, because she is alive and she would never try to hurt me.” This much I was certain of, for if she had harboured any such intentions, she would have acted on them already, with how the Organization typically operated.

Urbosa’s lips tightened, and the out of place worry lines permeating her expression faded incrementally. She cast her gaze toward my stubborn guardian in silence, and he offered her a calm, yet resolute, nod of the head.

After a quiet embrace that seemed to go on endlessly, she sent me on my way. I looked over my shoulder as she grew smaller and smaller, then turned my focus ahead of me.

Staring up at the towering columns before me, I fell into an unnatural combination of wonder, nostalgia, and loss. (For whom or what was I still mourning? At this point, I didn’t even know the answer to that.) For the most part, the only parts of the building left standing were those invulnerable to fire, and even a great portion of that had fallen victim to weathering and decay over the years. Many of the brick walls had crumbled, leaving little in the way of places to hide a single person, let alone an entire crime syndicate.

The wind was unrelenting as it whipped and thrashed my hair about my face. Yet somehow, even as we drew nearer, the air remained as deathly still as ever.

As we finally came upon the scorched remnants of the main entrance, a gust from the north sent a whirlwind of ash in my direction. My arms rose to shield my face in the nick of time.

After taking a moment to collect myself, I took my first step since childhood into the domain of my mother’s workplace. Surely when I crossed that threshold, I’d thought, surely that was when havoc would finally be wrought upon us. But I was met yet again with stillness. Was nothing but my own breathing able to break this seemingly impenetrable silence?

Just then, my question was answered.

I felt my soul jump out of the confines of my body when the caw of a crow reverberated throughout the government building. If my heart hadn’t been pounding hard enough already...

I jumped again seconds later, though not nearly to the extent at which I just had, when Link’s hand came to weave itself between my fingers. We locked eyes, and he gave me the kindest of smiles. It made me want to melt right into his arms and to never let go, lest I lose him a third, and very likely final, time.

But a clearing of the throat from one of the other nearby constables reminded me of the ever present need to stay alert.

I elected to have the group split into two: one to search the ground floor of the ruins and one to search the upper floor. It was hard to say for certain how stable they were, but the stairways connecting the two stories were still almost fully intact. The upper floor itself, however, was another matter. Though its foundation hadn’t been constructed from any organic material, much of its structural integrity seemed to have been lost. About a third of it had broken off and landed square in the middle of the ground floor, leaving a vast chasm between the two sections of the upper floor that remained. The police had come prepared and equipped for the traversal of rough and uneven terrain, though there was still the danger of stray pieces of rubble raining down onto our heads from above.

I adjusted the strap of my helmet, which was beginning to chafe at the skin underneath my chin, before making my way around the monstrous hunk of brick flooring lying along the length of the grand foyer. Beyond that, as I’d remembered correctly, was the hallway leading to where her office had once been. But the scene I would discover there was a far cry from what I recalled.

What I found there wasn’t unlike what we’d found in the other offices up until now. Any furniture that had once filled the space had been destroyed. I could only just make out the contorted pieces of an old, blackened writing desk, its legs collapsed and the only thing relaying the tale of its former shape being the lamp lying shattered beside it. This I’d only noticed after hearing the crackling of shattered glass underfoot.

A clipped, nasal exhale sounded from behind me, where Link was taking in the scene with an expression similar to my own set into his face. He’d been clinging to my side since we’d begun searching, whether out of a desire to protect or to be protected, I did not know. A question rang in my ears that he’d posed to me during our meeting at my flat. “What will you do once you find her?” It was a simple question, one that I reasonably should have been able to answer, but the only one that came to mind would have sounded beyond foolish if said aloud. In the midst of such an era of power, what crime boss in their right mind would be swayed by a meagre plea to stop? But if not try to reason with her, there wouldn’t be many other options at my disposal.

This supposition only applied given that my mother would be found. My inspections so far had yielded no signs of Yiga activity, or for that matter, any activity whatsoever. Everything here seemed to have been here since the very incident that had levelled the place. In a way, this only added onto my already existing restlessness. The longer this search went on in vain, the less likely we were to find anything of worth, and the more likely it was for this endeavour to end in yet another failure. The moment I would finally give into my fear and call off the mission was steadily approaching.

A shadow flickered in my peripheral vision, followed by auditory pandemonium.

I just barely withheld my yelp. Link had turned toward the source of the sound with his hand on his holster.

But it had only been a piece of debris coming down from the floor above. I sighed furtively.

Between how Link’s shoulders had tensed up to meet his ears and the way his hand twitched as he lowered it from his hip, it was plain to see that I wasn’t the only one who was shaken up.

There was one more area of the ground floor that I had left to search: the conference hall. If the Yiga were anywhere to be found across these vast burial grounds, it was there.

What was left of the wood flooring creaked underfoot at a much greater volume than I’d been expecting. The ceiling, though just as high as that of the rest of this floor, somehow felt even loftier. Out of all the rooms we’d visited, this one was the most intact. Half of the risers, though scorched, were otherwise undamaged, and even the podium was still standing tall. But of course, being more intact meant giving sharpshooters more places to hide. One misstep and—

Crack

The floor fell out from beneath me. I let out a shriek, feeling the realm of death open its big, black maw and swallow me whole.

Then I landed with a calamitus crash.

If I hadn’t managed to curl my limbs around myself in time, the concrete flooring I seemed to have landed on surely would’ve cracked my head open, or given me a severe concussion at the very least. My whole body ached from the impact, and it felt as though I may have sprained my ankle, for when I tried to stand, it throbbed in the most violent pain I had ever experienced. I fell to my hands and knees, reeling.

The spot in the floor that I’d placed my weight on must have lost much of its hardiness to the fire. In all the times I’d been here as a little girl, it had never once occurred to me that this place had housed a basement.

“Zelda...!”

I looked up to see Link peering down from the hole in the ceiling that I’d made, his expression poised with worry. My body, covered in scrapes and bruises, cringed when I realized he had borne witness to that pathetic spectacle, making the pain tenfold.

“I’m fine,” I whisper-shouted up toward the only source of light in the room, and some of the fear in his face relaxed. He glanced around him, then looked back down in my direction before standing up and disappearing.

I could only hope he’d find his way down sooner rather than later. In the meantime, I shifted into a position I hoped I’d have more luck rising back to standing from, and I did. Though, maimed as I was, I’d still have to find some way to take some of the weight off my right foot.

The first thing I latched onto was rusty and sharp. I winced and pulled my hand back, looking blindly to see if my palm was bleeding or not.

As my eyes adjusted, I was relieved to see that the cut had only just grazed the surface of my skin. I scanned the room, seeing that the thing I’d touched was a piece of an old oil drum. In fact, the room was full of metal scraps resembling it.

A vision flashed before my eyes. Of City Hall being engulfed in flame within seconds, and the criminal mastermind hiding the evidence in a cellar, where no one would ever find it until the better part of two decades later.

The rest of the basement was still a cluttered mess, but somehow it felt a great deal more lived-in than what I’d seen up until this point. There wasn’t a soul to be found in any of the windowless rooms I came across, but the few things I found lying around with the help of my pocket torch, like an unopened pack of cigarettes and a deck of cards left strewn across a small table, gave me the distinct impression that I wasn’t alone. The numerous corners provided by old, metal bookshelves and file cabinets did little to slow my racing heart.

Eventually, I came upon an open doorway, beside which a small sign on the wall read, “Archive A.” Beyond the barrier, unlike the pitch darkness I’d been wandering through for I’d long lost count of just how long, a few threads of light were trickling in from above, presumably through a crack in the flooring above that I’d failed to notice before.

I stepped through the doorway, turned to face the yawning expanse of the former archive, and saw her. Dressed in pale white and standing radiantly in the center of the room.

My mother. The very image of my ever vivid memory of her was right there.

My feet carried me, with newfound purpose and with minds of their own, toward her. I wanted to reach out and feel her next to me. I wanted to ascertain that she was truly there and that I hadn’t actually hit my head and wasn’t now seeing things. I wanted to run at her, arms outstretched, more than anything in the world.

But then my ankle throbbed violently in protest, and my reason for being here came back to me at full force. I swallowed down my longing and stopped in my tracks. Her smile—that warm, glowing, congratulatory smile that held all the hope and light of the sun within its corners—wasn’t making this any less difficult, however. I was reminded of the simpler times, when at the end of each day, there was someone back at home waiting to hold me close and make all my worries melt away.

She held her arms out to me in a gesture that made my eyes well up with the tears of a child. It felt unspeakably wrong, but for what reason I could no longer place. Why shouldn’t I? What harm could it possibly do? It was only natural to want to wrap my arms around her as tightly as I was able, and to never let go again, wasn’t it?

A gunshot ripped through the peace.

Her face turned still as stone. Square between her harmless eyes had appeared an inky black-red orifice—an exit wound—from which a spray of crimson had decorated her visage.

Time slowed almost to a stop as Mother careened forward and fell flat onto the cold, hard floor. A hollow thump echoed throughout the empty space.

Before I’d had time to react, I looked up and met eyes with a painfully familiar pair of icy azures, which thawed in an instant as the owner lowered his weapon. I glanced down at the body, which had landed just two or three paces in front of me, then back at him. Then my own body started to shake.

No matter how I tried, I couldn’t control the violent tremors that had taken hold of me. My knees hit the floor, my bad ankle being wrenched one way in the process. This tore a scream from the depths of my lungs as the tears began waterfalling down in spiteful defiance against my will. I couldn’t bare to look at her—lithe arms strewn out limply at her sides and golden hair scattered in every direction—so I hid like the coward I was behind my stinging palms.

A metallic clack, followed by footsteps pounding the cement one after another as they neared. When his arms cradled my head into the shelter of his chest, I didn’t stop him. Nor did I when his hand began its gentle stroking up and down the curve of my back. He could have said something, anything, but he refrained. Instead, the silence surrounding my cries did nothing but amplify them.

A resounding clatter broke the air.

My vision was fogged up like a window pane in the dead of winter, but as I blinked away the tears, I began to make out the shape of an assault rifle lying on the concrete, at the feet of a person who hadn’t been there before and whose face I was unable to make out from this distance. In the figure’s hand was a bone-white mask, which they turned over in their grasp before dropping it onto the floor as well. It shattered upon landing.

In every corner, assassins were emerging from the shadows, each one of them laying down their weapons and turning to face the cooling corpse resting at the axis point of it all. Somehow, the room seemed even more devoid of daylight than ever before.

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #link x zelda #zelda x link #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink ff #zelda pov #detective au

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

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Forever Hold Your Peace | Tom Hiddleston x Cumberbatch!Reader | Chapter 3 | The Bachelor Party

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Cumberbatch!Reader

Summary: Tom Hiddleston dated Benedict's little sister (reader) back at Cambridge, after a bad breakup Tom and Benedict are now friends. The reader is now engaged to an American who Benedict does not trust. Ben turns to his good friend Tom to help break up the wedding and win back the girl he never truly got over.

This Chapter: Tom keeps running into you as wedding preparations kick into high gear. An incident at the bachelor party resolves Tom to join Benedict of this plan of wedding ruin.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slapping, cursing.

The wedding preparations moved fast over the next two weeks. You had time no to stay mad at Ben. You needed the help.

“Why isn’t what’s his face here to pick out a cake?” Ben grumbled as he took a bite of white cake.

“He needed to take care of some things at work, but he is meeting me at the florist at 3 to pick out the flowers.”

“How convenient.”

“I thought you would be nice.” you snapped as crumbs fell from your mouth.

“This is me being nice. Pardon me for thinking the groom should take part in the details of his own wedding.” Ben rolled his eyes.

You pushed away from the table. “This visa thing has stressed him out. And I would expect my family to be supportive!” You stormed off to get some fresh air. As you pushed the door open, you ran into the gentleman entering the shop.

“So sorry.” you muttered.

“My apologies.”

“Tom?” you asked as you spied familiar blue eyes staring at you.

“It’s nice to see you. You look fantastic.“ He pulled you into a hug. You held him just a second too long.

“You too. Why are you… My brother called you, didn’t he?”

Tom laughed. “He asked me to meet him here to go out for a drink. But it looks like I am a bit early.”

“Nonsense. We were wrapping up.” You fidgeted with your hair, flustered.

You opened the door and the two of you stepped back in. Ben’s face lit up when he noticed Tom walking with you. Now there was a brother-in-law he could live with.

Tom hugged Benedict. “Dirty pool at giving me the wrong time, mate.” Tom whispered.

Ben smiled wide. “Just reminding her of the options.”

“I’m not an option.“ Tom turned to you. “Where is your fiancé? I was hoping to meet him before the bachelor party this weekend.”

You swallowed. “You’re going to that?!”

“At your brother’s request. Now where is the man who swept the most beautiful girl I ever dated off her feet?” Tom winked at Ben. You didn’t notice because you were too busy hiding your embarrassment.

“He had work stuff. Something to do with his visa.” You made excuses. “He’s stressed what with the wedding and all.”

Tom gave a soft smile and kissed your temple. “Of course. I can only imagine. Well, let me take your brother off your hands and let you get back to planning the big day.” Tom saw the worry on your face. “I would suggest a simple vanilla cake, if it were me.”

You nodded and gave both of them quick hugs, but your eyes filled with sadness as they left you alone in the bakery.

Once Tom and Ben walked out of sight, Tom punched Benedict hard in the shoulder. “Next time give me a little warning.”

“And where would be the fun in that?” Ben laughed. “It is so rare I catch you off guard. And if it must come at my sister’s expense…”

Tom scowled. “Speaking of your sister, where is the infamous Billy Bob?”

Ben groaned. “Working, but I have my suspicions he is othwersie occupied.”

Tom furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“He is never around. All the big events of this wedding he has missed. No one works that much. Not even you.”

Tom frowned. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“She doesn’t take me seriously. I’m just the annoying big brother. Now if you…” Ben looked at Tom with hopeful eyes.

“Oh no,” Tom backed away as they reached the pub. “Absolutely not. I will not ruin your sister’s wedding based on your paranoid suspicions.”

“I thought we were friends.”

“We are but I am not willing to die for that friendship. And your sister would kill me.”

“Coward.” They sat down in a booth.

“To want to continue living. Yes I am a coward.”

Tom’s look said to drop the subject, which Benedict obliged and they enjoyed the rest of the meal. They parted making plans to meet for the dreaded bachelor party that weekend.

“Please don’t leave alone during this horrid affair.” Ben pleaded.

“I promise I would come didn’t I?

“True but…”

“Then I will come.” Tom assured him. “And I will get to meet the infamous Billy Bob.”

“Indeed. And you will then understand why this wedding must never happen.” Tom raised an eyebrow and Ben held his hands up. “Apologies.”

“Goodbye Benedict. Good luck on your hairbrained scheme. Try not to make your sister cry.”

“That’s your job, Tom.”

Tom laughed it off as they parted, but Ben’s words stung his heart. He hoped to never make you cry ever again.

You answered the door of your brother’s home to find Tom standing in jeans and t-shirt. His blond hair tousled in curls.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He winked at you.

You bit your lip. “We do. Although…” you glanced over your shoulder. “… I suspect my brother may have something to do with that.”

Tom laughed. “I suspect you’re right.” He shuffled his feet out of nerves. “Listen… I know it’s been years but I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders slumped. “It’s fine. I’m over it.” You stepped outside to leave. Tom grabbed your hand.

“No, it’s not fine. I behaved like a right bastard and no one deserves to be treated less than.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Thank you, Tom.”

“And look at you now, successful and getting married in two days to the man of your dreams! I wish I could be there to see it.”

You nodded as his words hit your heart. Was William the man of your dreams or just the man you said yes to? You pushed the troubling thought aside.

“I’m sure Ben will share pictures.” You wanted to get out of there. Away from Tom’s charm. You stepped down the stairs.

Tom gave a killer smile to hide his heartache. “I won’t keep you any longer. You must have lots to do.”

You nodded. “It was good to see you, Tom.” You lied.

“You too.” He kissed your cheek. “Good luck tomorrow.”

You hustled away before you cried in front of him. Ben came to the door just as you disappeared from view.

“Still hitting it off with the ladies, I see.” Benedict teased.

“Weren’t you the one who forbade me to date a member of your family?” He raised an eyebrow as they got into the car.

“A position I am reconsidering. Thank you for accompanying me to this thing.”

“Why did you invite me, anyway?”

“You mean I can’t enjoy the company of one of my best friends for an evening?”

“No.”

“You’re right. I need a second opinion on William. And a second pair of eyes—”

“— to spy—”

“—to observe.” Benedict shot daggers at Tom.

“Another word for spying.”

“Are you going to help?”

“I intend on enjoying myself tonight.”

“Then we agree.”

“Not at all.”

This continued until they pulled up to the club. It was the sort of place Tom and Benedict would never frequent of their own accord. Too trendy, too loud, too bright.

It’s the “classic bachelor party” William explained to Benedict who later relayed that to Tom.

“In other words, too much booze and too much boobs.” Tom commented.

“It’s that rather crass. On second thought, that’s probably what he thought.” Benedict quipped. They grabbed drinks at the bar. “Oh shit, here he comes.”

Benedict hooked his chin towards a sweaty and smiling man.

“Holy fuck! It’s Loki!” William screamed over the loud club music.

Tom nearly spit out his drink. He hated him already. “In the flesh.” he choked out as William took his hand into his meaty paw and shook it hard, squeezing.

William punched Ben in the shoulder. “Bro, you never told me you knew Loki!”

Tom giggled behind William’s back at Ben’s discomfort. “You never asked.” Ben scoffed.

William spun to speak to Tom and Benedict pulled faces behind, mouthing “wanker” at Tom.

“Dude, do you know Arnold Schwarzenegger? He is my favorite.”

Benedict rolled his eyes.

“I’m afraid not, William.” Tom gave a tight smile. “But Ben you were at that BAFTA event last week…”

That was all it took to send William talking a mile a minute. Tom smiled at Benedict as he walked away to leave Benedict to fend for himself for a bit.

“Serves him right.” Tom muttered to himself as he went off to find a dark corner.

Ben didn’t resurface until 30 minutes later.

“You’ll pay for that.” Benedict cursed as he sidled up Tom at the bar.

“Fair is fair.” Tom smiled. “How is Billy Bob?”

“On his third cocktail and even more insufferable than usual with his mates by his side.” Benedict’s voice dripped with disdain.

“Shame. Here’s to getting out of here unaccosted.” Tom raised his glass.

A heavy hand hit Benedict’s shoulder.

“Onto our second stop for the night.”

Tom and Benedict furrowed their brows.

“I beg your pardon?” Benedict questioned.

“This was just the appetizer, bro. Onto the entrée. Zander will give you the address.” He walked away but not before shooting his fingers at the two men.

A tall thin man with slicked down black hair, who was Zander, gave them the address to a private residence. Benedict called the car.

“Do you have any idea where we are going?” Tom asked.

“I wasn’t consulted on the party plans. It’s probably a stripper popping out of a cake, judging by this crowd.”

Tom buried his head in his hand. “God, I hope not.”

The private residence was the rental for the groomsman. Everyone else headed to the parlor while Tom and Benedict wandered to the kitchen to see if there was anything edible in this house. They found only beer in the fridge.

“William! We are going to grab some food and be right back.” Tom yelled.

“Whatever, dude.” William yelled, his voice coming from the crowd of his friends.

Curious, they took a step into the parlor. The men hooted and hollered as rock music played from an unseen sound system.

“I’m afraid you were right.” Tom pointed towards the center of the room. All he saw was a buxom woman wearing little more than a thong and pasties.

Both of them moved out of the room after getting an eyeful of flesh. They sighed as they stepped out into the cool London air.

“That was awkward.” Tom commented.

The two laughed at the absurdity of their situation as they walked towards the nearest store.

They returned thirty minutes later to a very different scene. The rock music still blasted throughout the house. However, most of the guys were passed out on the furniture or playing video games.

“Where’s William?” Benedict asked a guy name Ashton.

The blond guy just shrugged his shoulders.

“What do you think?” Tom questioned. “Do you want to take the food home?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Tom handed the bags to Benedict. “I am going to the loo first.” He turned to Ashton. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Upstairs, second door on the left.”

“Thanks.”

Tom shuffled off.

“I mean right!” Ashton yelled after Tom.

Tom headed upstairs and opened the second door on the left, which led to a bedroom. A bedroom occupied by the stripper and one gentleman from the party, in a state of undress.

“Terribly sorry to interrupt,” Tom apologized. “I was looking for the restroom?”

“Second door on the right, dude.” a familiar voice answered.

“William?” Tom squinted at the man whose neck was being sucked on by a nearly naked woman.

“Loki?”

Tom’s vision flashed white as his hand balled into a fist and it connected with William’s face.

“The name’s Thomas, Billy Bob.” Tom shook his hand out as William laid sprawled unconscious on the bed. He pointed at the stripper.

“He said he was one of the groomsman!” she screamed.

“Your name?”

“Diamond.”

“Diamond.” Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Party’s over. Get dressed and get out.”

She nodded, too scared to ask questions.

Tom stomped down the stairs and found Ben leaning against a wall.

“I’m in.” Tom grabbed his arm. “I’ll explain in the car. Just tell me when this wedding is.”

Benedict couldn��t help but smile.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #forever hold your peace

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saudadeonly · 4 years ago

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never doubt never fear

Read on ao3. Part seven.

Death Eater!Sirius Black AU

The year after Andromeda Tonks and her family are declared dead to the rest of the Wizarding Britain is the most confusing, most unnerving year she's experienced in her life but she wouldn't change it for the world.

(Spans from February 1982 to March 1983.)

Word count: 11577

___

Andromeda Tonks, formerly Black, which she still has trouble forgetting on the worst of days, considers herself to be a fairly put-together person, able to keep her wits about herself in the direst of situations and her cool even when faced with emotional turmoil.

(“Maybe usually,” says Marina, her friend of too many years, sipping her whiskey, probably the third or fourth one since she arrived. She drinks like it’s a lifeline and has for longer than Andromeda has loved her, but she’s the only one that’s ever cared enough to stay. “But you do have some very specific exceptions.”

“You’re going to die from that,” Andromeda tells her in lieu of an answer, taking a sip of her tea.

Marina laughs, raspy around the edges. “I’ll be gone long before that,” she says.)

(The Dark Mark appears above her apartment three weeks later, the walls painted with her blood, so she’s right, in the end, as she always is—was.

For the first time, Andromeda resents the fact that she can’t sit and listen to Marina tell her, I told you so.)

But waking up in a house she has not been able to visit in a decade, her daughter and husband nowhere in sight when her last memory is of her sister’s manic laugh as she flees through the woods away from her, then walking out of her room only to find her cousin that’s been presumed dead for years in the kitchen is a bit of a stretch, even for her.

Let alone the fact that said cousin, one Regulus Arcturus Black, is currently wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt and stirring a pan full of what look like scrambled eggs. He looks up when she enters, black hair sleep-messy around his face, grey eyes bright. “Good,” he says, blinking slowly at her. “You’re awake.”

“Regulus—” Andromeda starts, then finds she has no words yet and sits down on one of the high stools at the island counter. She goes over the previous night in her head. Dinner, riddle-solving with Ted, getting Dora to bed, pouring tea in the kitchen; then a group of wizards inside her house, Bella’s grin, the dark woods around her. After that, nothing at all—certainly not anything involving Regulus.

She watches as Regulus ladles the eggs onto two plates, adds an abundance of bread slices to both, and sets one of them in front of Andromeda. He flicks his wand and a kettle from the stove flies toward the counter, pouring tea into the two mugs resting there. Once poured, Regulus pushes one toward Andromeda and takes the other one for himself, putting it down beside his plate of eggs as he starts to eat.

He nods toward her plate. “You should eat,” he says. “You’ll feel better.”

Andromeda stares and finds she has no energy to stop, which, considering the years of etiquette lessons her mother imposed on her, is a surprise in itself. It’s not so much the fact that he’s here as it the fact that he’s here like this, domestic and relaxed as she’s never seen him, at ease with himself and the space around him. He’s taller, too, and broader, a new weight to him that only age could have brought along. Age that, as far as she knew only a few minutes ago, Regulus never got to experience.

“Am I dead?” she asks, clearing her throat. It’s the only explanation that comes to mind.

He huffs a breath between two bites and looks up at her, brows and the corners of his mouth raised. She doesn’t remember his smiles, however small, coming as easy as they do now. “Not unless I am, too,” he says.

Andromeda blinks. The irony isn’t lost on her, nor him, judging by the remains of his smile. “Well, legally,” she says, slowly finding footing on this rocky ground, “you are.”

Regulus considers, mouth pulling to the side. “So are you.” He points his fork at her and adds, “Legally.”

“And Dora?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper, the name like a jolt of that peculiar thing Muggles call electricity. She can’t believe it’s taken her this much time to ask about it. “Ted?”

Regulus’s eyes darken, mouth settling into a firm line. “Alive but, like you, considered dead to the majority of the wizarding world. And in much worse condition.” He nods toward the room at the beginning of the hall, the one Cissy always claimed as hers because it had the best view. “In there.”

Andromeda makes to stand up but Regulus catches her wrist before she can take a single step. She reaches for her wand, only to find it’s not in the inner pocket of her robes where she usually keeps it. “Where’s my wand?”

“Let them sleep it off, Dromeda,” Regulus murmurs. “Bella got to them before she got to you.”

Andromeda’s heart slams against her ribcage, as if it could jump out and reach Ted and Dora all by itself. Bella’s cruelty has always aged like fine wine and Andromeda dreads to find out what new expanses she’s discovered in the years since they parted ways. “Then let me see them,” she says, ripping her wrist out of his grip.

He draws his hand back, letting it rest against his side, but he doesn’t back down. “Eat first,” he insists with a stubborn frown that is at once familiar and strange; she’s not used to it on his face but she’s seen it plenty of times before on another. “You need it. You won’t be of any help to them like this.” He runs a hand through his hair, the waves an enviable mix of elegant and mussed. “Your wand broke,” he adds in a quiet, careful voice, so much more like the reserved boy she remembers, “when they got to you. I’m sorry.”

Andromeda’s throat closes up. That wand was one of the few constants she had been allowed for most of her life. From that first summer before her first year, through all the years at Hogwarts, through her elopement, her pregnancy, every good and every horrible part of her life. It was the only thing given to her by her parents that she still truly adored.

“We’ll find you a temporary replacement later,” Regulus says. “I promise.” He nods toward the plates, the food probably cold by now. “Now you sit down and eat.”

Andromeda looks up at him. The last time she properly saw him he was only eleven years old, more skin and bone than anything else, all sharp edges and big eyes, small enough she could use him as an armrest. Now he towers over her, looks at her with patient eyes, all that skin filled out, that sharp edges softened.

She collapses onto the stool. “How did you pull it off?” she asks before she brings a spoonful of eggs into her mouth. They’re not bad, certainly worse than she could have made but they might as well be the best thing she’s tasted in years. They’re not yet cold, at least.

He copies her, then takes a sip of his tea. “I didn’t,” he says, shrugging with tense shoulders, which is a contrast that she can’t find strange, not on him. “Sirius did.”

Andromeda is suddenly grateful that she’s sitting down. Her knees might have gone out from underneath her otherwise. Finding out that Regulus is alive is one thing but to know that Sirius, who has despite her best efforts to convince herself and others the opposite always been her favourite family member, is the one responsible for the survival of her entire family, the only thing she still cares about in this wretched world, feels larger than life. She's spent years of anger at the betrayal he seemingly so carelessly executed, not only at her but at his friends. It hurt more than finding out about Bella’s admittedly expected affiliation with Voldemort or Cissy’s marriage into the Malfoy family. She's never been able to put a finger on why exactly.

“Let’s talk,” Regulus says, giving her a soft smile that she might have once thought shy or unsure. “There are so many things you don’t know.”

***********

Andromeda gets used to the old house slowly at first, then quicker every day. It was always a warm, welcoming place but it was slowly falling apart when she last saw it. Uncle Alphard, always a bit eccentric, had never had much interest in keeping a house elf or keeping up the house himself—a trait that was later only amplified by his years-long sickness. But now, with Regulus as the main resident, the house has been fixed up, the rooms put to good use and all of Alphard’s peculiar collections thoroughly sorted through. Andromeda enjoys finding the unfamiliar in the familiar, the little changes that tell her that the shelter of her childhood has become a haven of her adulthood.

Regulus, however, demands a little more adjusting. Andromeda learns quick enough that any change she might have thought superficial at first goes deeper than she could even imagine. There aren’t just the wardrobe change and the growth spurt in play. He’s still distant and considerate, but there is a new sense of strength in him, like his spine has become unbreakable, like it’s been coated in steel and tempered in fire. He dotes on Dora, redresses her wounds, coaxes her to drink her potions and is nothing but patient with her. He’s more reserved with Ted but no less respectful, no less mindful of his newly-obtained injuries – broken ribs, gouged face, cracked spine – and Andromeda can only marvel at the kindness, the one that has despite his mother’s best efforts always simmered inside him, he can so freely give now; there was a time she never would have dared to hope of such a kind fate for her little cousin.

He has his secrets and, as he always has, guards them well, with smooth, easy-flowing movements and an impassive face but Andromeda still manages to catch little glimpses of dark books and large maps he pores over early in the morning or late in the night when he thinks everyone else is asleep.

She doesn’t mind, is quite used to it after years of having to keep secrets herself and even finds comfort in the fact that this is a part of Regulus that hasn’t changed, a part that she still—quite ironically—knows.

*********

Dora, wedged between Andromeda and Ted in the large bed, is just drifting off to sleep when the door to the cottage bangs open. Andromeda’s first thought is that Dora was finally, finally calm enough to have fallen asleep and she is going to kill whomever just woke her up. Then it occurs to her that she might actually have to.

She jumps up and is out of the room before she remembers to grab for the wand Regulus found in the old study. It’s not fit for her at all but it’s better than nothing, especially in a situation like this one.

Ted calls out after her, unable to follow her, but Andromeda ignores him. She trusts him to keep Dora safe while she deals with the intruders or if it comes to the point where he has to take them on by himself. She’ll be damned if she lets her family get hurt again just because her sister has some kind of a desire to get rid of everything she considers to be tainting her past.

But it’s not Bellatrix or even a barrage of Death Eaters that stand in the living room. At first glance, Andromeda almost mistakes the tall, lean man for Regulus; but his hair is too long, his face too pale. He is swaying on his feet and he is much too thin under the cloak he’s taking off. The spike of recognition is more pain than relief.

“Sirius,” she breathes, her wand lowering with the frantic beat of her heart.

Sirius gives her a slow, small smile, an alien thing on his hollow face that was so full of life the last time she saw him. Years have passed since then, long, difficult years for him; she shouldn’t be surprised that he is so, so different now. “Hi, Dromeda,” he says, voice scratching against the walls of her heart. “How have you been?”

Andromeda takes a breath, then another. In between, Sirius throws off his robes with shaking limbs, revealing a white shirt underneath. A white shirt that is, from the side of his ribs down to his hipbone, stained red.

“Sirius,” she chokes out, taking one staggering step forward.

“I know,” he says, glancing at her before he rips the shirt off as well, grey eyes glassy.

For a moment, all she can notice is the ribs pressing up through the too-pale skin, the scars littering the expanse of his torso and his arms, white on white, blades of grass through paper. Then she sees the long, narrow gash down his side, streaming red, and it’s so much worse.

Sirius coughs, a dry, heaving thing, and sways back on his feet. He’s always been a steady boy, unperturbed in the harshest of conditions, resilient where all others failed. It’s the first time Andromeda thinks that that strength will fail him, that he might crumple in on himself.

Funnily enough, that’s what snaps her out of the trance she’s fallen in. She steps forward, wand once again poised but with a different intention this time. “Let me help you,” she says.

Sirius huffs a laugh but he doesn’t stop her as she taps her wand against the wound and murmurs a low incantation, pushing against the will of the wand as it seeks to evade. The gash simmers at the edges, the flesh almost knitting together, but then spreads further back, the blood more like a river now. A leaden ball settles in the pit of Andromeda’s stomach.

“Hardly can be helped,” Sirius says, looking down from the wound towards her with dark eyes. If possible, his face has paled. “It’s cursed, probably.”

Before Andromeda can say he should have told her that before she made it worse, the door bangs open again, this time indeed announcing Regulus with flushed cheeks and wind-tussled hair. His eyes take the scene in within seconds, his hands already throwing off his cloak. “What happened?” he asks, calm despite the situation. He reaches for Sirius and catches him just as Sirius’s knees buckle.

“Bloody Dorcas,” Sirius rasps as Regulus deposits him on the sofa. The plush soft-blue material is dark with blood within seconds. Sirius bares his teeth in what might be a self-deprecating smile, the sound that escapes him almost a laugh. “Knew she’d get me back for Marlene eventually.”

“Talented witch,” Regulus murmurs, turning Sirius onto his side, fingers skimming along the edges of the wound. He reaches for his wand, hidden in the inner pockets of his robes, but Andromeda catches his wrist.

“Magic makes it worse.”

Regulus blinks, swallowing as he tucks the wand away again. “Blood-replenishing potions,” he mutters instead, then gets up and disappears into the kitchen.

“Andromeda,” Sirius says as his eyes flick away from Regulus and towards her, clearing and blurring almost in time with his breaths. He presses his hand over the wound, blood seeping through his fingers. His voice is steady despite all of it. “Right pocket of my robes. There’s a book. Get it.” He coughs, his chest heaving with it, and adds, “Please.”

Andromeda’s eyes burn as she reaches for the robes, blindly digging through the pockets until she grabs a leather-bound book. The thought of losing Sirius just as he’s so close turns over her stomach. She makes to give it to Sirius but he shakes his head.

“Page 23.”

She dutifully flips it open, finding the pages filled with a familiar, elegant script. There are sketches, too, quick but precise, more beautiful than Andromeda would have managed to draw in her entire life. She looks back at Sirius. “These are spells.” Newly invented spells, from the looks of it – Andromeda has never heard of any of them.

Sirius nods, swallowing. “Healing spells, mostly,” he says.

Regulus appears back in the living room, levitating a number of potion vials beside himself. He grabs a dark red one and shoves it at Sirius. “Drink it.” He glances at the book in Andromeda’s hands. “What’s that?” he asks as he hands another potion to Sirius.

“A spell Andromeda will try out on me,” Sirius answers between gulps of the potion. He makes a face and leans his head back against the armrest. His hair lies plastered against his forehead, perspiration gleaming down his neck and chest.

Bile rises in Andromeda’s throat, her fingers shaking. She closes them around the book, refusing to be anything but useful here. She cannot afford to be anything else. “You mean to tell me you haven’t tested it yet?” she asks, managing to keep her voice even.

“Not that one, no. Haven’t had the time.”

“Sirius,” Regulus says, locking his jaw as he glares down at Sirius. They look so alike in the bright room, the lines of their regal faces nearly matching, both of their mouths set in a stubborn frown. “You can’t.”

“What is it going to do?” Sirius shoots back, lifting his chin as far as he can in his reclining position. His voice trembles but his eyes on Regulus’s remain steady. “Kill me?”

*********

After, Andromeda sits by Sirius’s bed, watching the rise and fall of his chest, tightly bound with Muggle bandages. She fiddles with the book, fingering the pattern pressed into the soft leather to set herself at ease; it’s a beautiful, intricate thing – a stag, a dog, a wolf, and a rat, standing side by side, the moon arcing high above them. It’s nearly as peaceful an image as the one before her.

Sirius’s breaths are slow and deep, his heartbeat steady. He is in no danger of dying, at least not from this wound, but Andromeda can’t bring herself to walk away. It’s been so long since she saw him, since she heard his laugh, since she listened to one of his stories. She only now notices the gaping hole in the side of her heart that has existed since she first heard the news.

In the months after Remus and James stopped by for tea, with darker bags under their eyes than Andromeda had in the first year of Nymphadora’s life, Andromeda stayed up for hours at a time, finding ways to berate herself for not having foreseen it, for not doing more to stop it, for not helping Sirius. She was just a renounced heiress back then, struggling with relying on anyone but herself and discovering the difficulties of having a child, but there had been so many occasions Sirius had found the time for them, for her, and she never repaid the favour. The guilt tore its way through her for a long time before she found a way to check it, burying it underneath her love for the only family she had left.

To know now that that was all an illusion is a relief but the guilt has broken through the dam she so carefully built around it, the one that remained firmly intact even after Regulus told her everything, and it now burns like acid, clawing its way into every crevice of her body.

Andromeda takes Sirius’s hand. It’s long-fingered and elegant but even the back of it is flecked with tiny scars. She bows down low over it, forehead touching his wrist, and murmurs, “Je suis désolé, Sirius.” The tears are not unexpected but they feel wrong somehow, too hot and heavy for someone who did so little to help at all. The tightness in her chest eases, though, and her next breath is easier to draw in. So she lets them spill over, lets the acid burn and hopes that tomorrow she can begin to make amends for her mistakes.

*********

Sirius more or less sleeps for the next few days. He wakes intermittently, sometimes murmuring names Andromeda can’t decipher but mostly reaching for the refilling glass of water they deposited on his nightstand. He just lies there, filled to the brim with various potions Regulus practically had to force down his throat, looking more dead than alive even on the best of days.

Dora glides by his room most of the time, drawing back at the smallest of sounds Sirius makes, and Andromeda’s heart aches with the knowledge that her daughter would have been the first to spend her nights watching over her uncle only a week ago. Now, she is just a girl whose normally vibrantly pink hair has remained short-shorn and dark brown since the night she had the misfortune of meeting her older aunt.

She inches her way into the room after a couple of days, drawing herself up against Andromeda as soon as she’s close enough, and watches as Sirius’s eyelids flutter in his sleep. He looks, for a lack of a better word, different than the last time Dora, only five years old then, saw him but when she reaches out to touch the ends of his hair, dark against the white pillows, Andromeda knows she remembers the boy who used to upend her by her ankle and make her shriek with laughter, who spent hours listening to her babbling and answering every one of her concerns with utmost honesty.

“Will Sirius be alright, mum?” she asks quietly, curling into the warmth of Andromeda’s arms in the small armchair. She smells like the sea and chamomile tea Regulus must have just made her. She'll have to remember to thank him later for so diligently taking care of her daughter.

“I hope so, sweetheart,” Andromeda answers, curving her body around Dora’s, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. Here, in the quiet, in the dimness, the memory of Dora’s small body, broken and beaten, is clearer than the daylight skies. Andromeda shudders. She cannot lose another person she loves. She will not. “We’re doing everything we can to help him and Papa.”

*********

There is a tapestry of the Black family tree in the dining room. It is reminiscent of the one at Grimmlaud Place, with the vastness and the pompous names, but this one has no scorch marks. It is strange to see her own name, written out in a slanting, copperplate script, right between Bellatrix and Narcissa’s. She can’t imagine that its twin was so lucky.

It’s the first time Andromeda has even been in the dining room since she came here. She usually avoids it like the plague because she nearly suffocates with the memory of long, stuffy family dinners she had to endure in here but it is the fastest way from the kitchen to the small wooden terrace in the back where Ted and Dora are and she stepped right into the rabbit hole of their beloved family. She readjusts her grip on the tray with tea and glances at her name again, eyeing the golden thread proclaiming her death to have been in 1982. She has yet to step beyond the border of the Fidelius charm guarding the house so it might as well be true, for all anyone in this world knows. Although only a few steps away, the prospect of it seems daunting now that she’s got used to this small haven, unaffected by the war raging on outside.

“I was all for painting over the damn thing but Regulus insisted we keep it,” says a voice from her left and she whirls on the spot, miraculously managing to not slosh the tea all over the place. Sirius stands in the doorway, half leaning against the frame, dressed in a loose shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He grimaces as he pushes off of the frame and steps further into the room, adding flippantly, “Something about tradition and legacy.”

“Sirius,” she says, pausing long enough to put the tray down on the table. She turns back around to find she has no idea what to do next. She’d like to hug him but she doesn’t know how well he would take it, or if at all. The few feet between them feel like a chasm, started by war and gouged by time.

Sirius saves her the trouble and positions himself next to her, shoulder-to-shoulder. She can feel the rhythm of his breathing, just a tad quicker now that he is awake. “At least this one is complete,” he murmurs, reaching out to touch the names of the people whose faces had been burned off in Grimmauld Place. Isla. Phineas. Marius. Cedrella. All names the two of them spent their childhood searching, if only to know what things they had done to have earned to be cast out of their family. Their findings only ever offered a horrible insight into what kind of family they had been cursed with. Andromeda had barely been able to look at her father for weeks after.

Sirius’s finger touches uncle Alphard’s name and stills.

Andromeda’s hand trembles and she clenches it into a fist, tight enough to hurt. Her favourite uncle, the dearest soul she has ever known. “He left me some money,” she says, then adds unnecessarily, “In his will.” She chances a glance at Sirius, finding his jaw firmly set. “Is that why—?”

Sirius nods. “Cygnus flew into a rage when he found out. It was the last straw for him and mother dearest wasn’t about to disagree with him. She didn’t waste her time either.” He scoffs, though the corners of his mouth turn up with it. “Alphard left most of the money to me but he wasn’t about to go out of this world without one last dig at the two of them.” He taps his finger against the tapestry, once, twice, then drops his hand. “Stubborn man,” he murmurs, looking all over the tapestry with dark, grey eyes; eyes that, now that they are not closed or glassy with the haze of pain, Andromeda can barely recognise.

“How are you?” she asks softly. She reaches out a hand and hesitates. She keeps it still mid-air for a moment then decides to damn it all and puts her hand on his shoulder. “Sirius, comment tu te sens?”

Sirius glances down at her. He’s been taller than her for some years now, even before they last saw each other, but he seems small now, stooped over in the kitchen where they spent some of their best years, finally, finally not just groomed to be scions of the House of Black, but allowed to be children. He touches her hand, lightly, with the tips of his fingers. “Ça va.” He looks out the window, his chin lifted as he watches the clouds roll past. “I should go,” he says, the words like a splash of cold water in her face; his duties don’t end here, not by a long shot, and she cannot save him from them. “They’ll be wondering where I’ve been.”

Andromeda doesn’t let herself look down at his forearm where the mark rests, dark and too alive across the veins rising against his thin skin. “Not right now.” She grabs his upper arm again and doesn’t let go as she levitates the tea tray with her other hand. “Come outside, for a little while.”

“Are the others there?”

“Just Dora and Ted. I think they’d both like to thank you while you’re awake.” She pulls at his sleeve gently, bites back the urge to beg him to stay. She’d go in his stead if she could. “Come on.”

Sirius glances at the window again, then sighs and lets her lead him out into the sun. He seems a stranger to it.

*********

Regulus doesn’t settle for days after Sirius has left. He is quicker with his movements, more intense when he studies his books, constantly looking between them and the door from the couch he’s nestled himself in.

“It’s been a hard couple of months for Sirius,” he explains softly when Andromeda nudges him. “I always fear I won’t see him after he goes.”

“Not hard years?” Ted asks from where he’s stretched out on the couch. Like this, underneath a red blanket, he looks nearly as he once did, content and dozing in the afternoon, not confined to the couch and a prisoner in his own body.

Regulus looks up at Ted, his hand almost absent-mindedly reaching up to touch the scar resting across his throat. His fingers move when he swallows. “Not like this.” He taps the corner of a small, dark book resting on the coffee table. “He lost a lot.”

And Andromeda finally sees something that she can recognise in Regulus – the fall of his eyes, stubbornly firm, the way he pulls his mouth to the side as if he’s biting the inside of his cheek; guilt has always been easy to notice with Regulus and she can do little to hold down the wave of her own that whirls up at the bottom of her stomach.

“He’ll be back, Regulus,” says Ted. His eyes are dark and gentle, even with a boy that he never met before two weeks ago, and Andromeda’s chest feels tight with the appreciation for this kind, patient man she was thankfully not stupid enough to let go. “He still has you.”

“Yes,” Regulus agrees softly. “Yes, he does.” He readjusts himself when Dora slots onto the couch between him and Andromeda and only once she’s safely curled against the two of them does he add, “I just hope he knows that, too.”

*********

Sirius comes back, of course.

He puts his hand on Regulus’s shoulder when he comes into the kitchen, quiet and unassuming; he moves like a ghost sometimes, half-there, half-alive, trapped between two worlds and welcome in none. Though Andromeda has seen ghosts who suffered a kinder fate. He goes to draw his hand away but Regulus turns toward him, giving him a slow, sad upturn of lips, and puts his hand over his, squeezing it once, quickly.

“Alright?” Regulus asks after he’s let go.

“Alright,” Sirius says, nodding. He reaches around Regulus to steal a piece of bacon from his plate and bites off half of it. “Bella is still on a rampage so they were all sufficiently distracted.” He looks at the remaining piece of bacon, frowning, then up at Andromeda. “Did you make this?” he asks.

Andromeda nods, still not finding the right words to say anything else, too busy scrutinising Sirius. He seems better and worse at the same time – he’s paler than he was when he left but he holds himself upright now and doesn’t grimace anymore when he moves.

“It’s good.”

Regulus glares up at Sirius. “Are you implying mine isn’t?

Sirius shrugs. “I’m not not implying it,” he says and Regulus shoves him.

*********

Sirius and Regulus filter in and out of the house from then on. Regulus, who used to disappear for scraps of time during the day, now stays away for hours, although he always comes back before the dark has settled in, usually smiling softly at himself or humming under his breath. On some days, even both.

“He has someone,” Sirius says on one of the rare days he’s with them. He’s gone for days at a time and unlike Regulus, rarely spends the night and even then, he is gone before the sun has risen. He spends most of his time with Regulus and his books and parchments, scribbling in the margins, or with Dora, playing chess with her or showing her various wand tricks to entertain her. He is always kind, always patient, but the scars and wounds underneath are visible even on the best of days. Andromeda wonders sometimes if he sees Bellatrix when he looks at Dora with her dark hair and high-cheeked face, or when he looks at Andromeda herself; she doesn’t blame him for getting lost in the pain sometimes. “He won’t tell me but I see him.”

“Are you sure?” Andromeda asks. It seems unimaginable, not because Regulus would be incapable of forming such a relationship, but because it seems almost bizarre that he might allow himself such a comfort, such a liability when he and Sirius are clearly mixed up in something that goes beyond Sirius’s affiliation with Voldemort.

Sirius nods, dragging on the cigarette he’s lit. “I don’t blame him for it,” he says, puffing out the smoke, his voice caught with it. “I had things I didn’t tell him about, too.”

There are so few things Andromeda thinks Sirius has left to keep to himself, to cherish. She cannot imagine the pain he must have felt leaving his friends in the dark and with every loss after it – there can’t have been just a few of them. Her heart aches with the thought of how alone he must have been that first year before Regulus joined him.

“He’s happy,” Sirius says, pressing his shoulder against Andromeda’s briefly. “I can never resent him for it.”

“I’m glad,” Andromeda says and pushes the question bubbling up her throat back into her lungs, squeezed between her ribs, storing it for a day she might get a satisfactory answer. Are you happy?

*********

Days bleed by, then weeks, during which Andromeda learns to exercise a degree of patience she has never known before. It takes hours to put Dora to sleep sometimes, days to help Ted master a new level of mobility, but Andromeda never for one second wishes it were any different; she has them still and that is more than she can ask for.

Sirius examined Ted the second time he came back and his diagnosis, coming from someone who Andromeda has known to be exceptionally talented at healing, offered little hope; but Ted is trying with everything he has, religiously doing all exercises and drinking his potions—the results are defying all expectations.

Currently, he’s learning to use the wheelchair Sirius has procured and magically enhanced for him, using the wheels to propel himself backwards and forwards, back and forth, back and forth. “This is quite nice,” he says, smiling up at Andromeda with tired eyes, set strangely into his thin, scarred face. He’s always been a bit on the stout side, but he’s lost a lot of weight during his recovery, his rehabilitation; it’s not a bad change but the reasons for it are. She misses, sometimes, her cheerful husband and her bubbly daughter but always catches herself before she wishes to go back. There are so many things she has gained now that she would never have managed to see otherwise. It is hard to be resentful of that. “Come on,” he proclaims as he tugs on her hand and then lets go to push himself forward, past the kitchen and towards the front door. “Let’s take it out for a test drive.”

Andromeda follows, opens the door and steps out. It’s a beautiful day, cold but not unpleasant, the sun shining high up in the clear sky. She hasn’t made it a habit to remind herself of it lately.

Ted is a bit unsure in the wheelchair, rolling over the grassy knolls and dips, but it is wonderful to see him enjoy the outside world without having to rely on anyone’s assistance, to be self-sufficient, if only for the time being.

She stands next to him once he’s stopped and reaches for his hand on the armrest. “I love you,” she tells him. “And I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much pain.”

Ted smiles at her, wide and unrestrained, but weak around the edges. He wraps his fingers around her and brings their joined hands up to his mouth to kiss the back of hers. “My Dromeda,” he murmurs. “You’ve only ever brought joy to my life.” He pulls on her hand until she gives and climbs into his lap, curling into his firm torso, into his smell of chamomile and healing potions. He wheels them forward, slowly and unsurely, but Andromeda trusts him enough to keep her eyes closed until he stops. He’s brought them all the way to the end of the path leading to the village below, where Regulus has taken Dora, heavily masked, for the day.

It takes her a moment to realise that they’ve crossed the border of the Fidelius charm and there’s a painful tug in her chest, an old panic finally rearing its ugly head; but it’s Ted and she trusts him. So she noses against the curve of his neck as he wraps his arms around her and she breathes him in, lets the sunrays wash over them. With him by her side, she isn’t afraid.

*********

“How’s Cissy?” she asks Sirius when she finally dares.

He looks up from a parchment, depicting strange, mangled creatures. He and Regulus have been becoming more open with their research, leaving them to lie on the table even if they’ve left their spot for longer than a minute; she thinks they might tell her what they’re up to soon. “Good,” he says, grey eyes unreadable. He takes a bite of the sandwich she’s made him and it seems almost absent-minded or at least not deliberate. Regulus told her Sirius practically has had to have food forced down his throat for months, if not years. “Surviving,” he adds after he’s swallowed the bite; then, even softer, “She fears for her son.”

Andromeda thinks back to the family tree in the dining room, the gold thread tracing down from the line connecting Narcissa and Lucius. “Draco,” she says and he nods.

“He’ll be two soon,” he tells her, a distant look crossing his face; it seems at once caught between reminiscence and regret. “I’d help her if I could but Lucius would kill her before he’d let her go and she won’t risk Draco.”

Andromeda’s throat burns, a familiar sensation by now, older even than Sirius’s servitude. It’s been a constant companion since she last closed the door of her childhood home. Bella, she had little qualms about leaving behind, but Cissy, pliable Cissy who would do anything to please their parents and Bella; she would have taken her with if she had been able to. She cannot blame Sirius for having the same conflict within himself, for failing to come up with a solution when his circumstances are so much worse.

“I’m sorry you’re alone,” she says, leaning back against the counter, gripping the old, hideous wand like it’s her lifeline; she hates it, its history, its character and everything in-between—but it’s all she has right now and it has to be enough.

“I wasn’t always,” Sirius says, the long, elegant lines of his face shifting as he reaches up to touch a small carnation pendant resting just below the hollow of his throat. She has the sudden image of the boy he was, rising from the stool at the Sorting, equal parts elated and terrified. She really thought that he was safe then, that he would get away. “But I am now.”

*********

Regulus teaches Dora to fly on a broom, leading her high up into the sky and guiding her through easy manoeuvres. It makes her laugh, makes her giddy with excitement and she comes back into the house rosy-cheeked and with shining eyes.

Ted reads bedtime stories to her, has her tucked against his chest until late in the night, until she’s been asleep for hours and not mere restless minutes. He kisses her hair and tells her he loves her and doesn’t let go of her unless she asks him to.

Andromeda sings her lullabies until her throat hurts and brushes her hair and plays with her. She shows her all the wonderful things Alphard kept in his house, all the knowledge he kept in his books. She teaches her to dance every ballroom dance she remembers and doesn’t once mind any antiquity Dora breaks.

But Dora’s hair remains dark, her features familiar and painful not because they remind Andromeda of a past she’d rather forget, especially now, but because they are not her daughter’s, who has made it her personal mission to be her own and no one else’s since the day she first figured out how to control her abilities. They are a reminder that Dora lost something – that she was robbed of it – she can’t ever get back.

Then Andromeda goes for a glass of water in the middle of the night and she finds Sirius sprawled out on the couch, a thin blanket over him. He rarely goes to his room to sleep, instead preferring to crash in the living room; Andromeda hasn’t dared to ask him why yet. His chest is rising and falling steadily, his breaths blowing his hair away from his face. He has his arm around Dora, who is snuggled into his chest, her own arm barely reaching up to be wrapped around him. The embers in the fireplace cast a soft, warm light over the two of them, just enough that Andromeda can see that there, just above the swell of Nymphadora’s ear, her short hair glows pink.

*********

Snow melts under the relentless onslaught of the sun and gives way to blooming flowers. The days grow warmer, longer.

Andromeda starts tending to the old garden and Dora, with her hair a beautiful, beautiful pattern of pink and brown, joins her. They work while Ted sits in his chair nearby, reading or simply watching them. Sometimes he tells them stories or jokes; on other days, they are all content to stay in silence, to enjoy all the things that they nearly lost. Here, in the small world they’ve built for themselves, occupied and protected by people Andromeda loves most, they start healing.

*********

The newspapers grow darker and Regulus’s eyes become stormier, his face worn with frowns. He stays inside day and night, digging through old texts that probably haven’t seen the light of day for decades.

Sirius doesn’t come home for weeks.

*********

It’s nearly June when he does. The garden outside is blooming, bright with colours and life, but the house doesn’t light up until he bursts through the door.

“I got it!” Sirius yells. He’s smiling, honest-to-god smiling, when he barrages directly into Regulus and knocks the two of them off-balance, nearly onto the floor. “I got it, Regulus,” he says into his shoulder, muffled and fuzzy with the shock. He’s still grinning when he pulls back but now, so is Regulus.

“How did you get it?” Regulus asks, reaching out a hand.

“I convinced Narcissa.”

It’s not until Regulus takes the small black book from Sirius’s hands that Andromeda even notices he had it. It’s an old, unassuming thing but Andromeda spent nearly half her life in houses where she learnt the hard way that most things weren’t what they appeared to be; even just looking at it makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, her chest heavy with the weight it has brought to the room. Whatever it is, it isn’t harmless.

“What is that?” she asks.

Regulus and Sirius exchange a dark look, an old sort of connection she remembers the two of them sharing since they were children; they have always known best how to exclude others from their conversations without even trying. Sirius’s face remains for the most part impassive, but Regulus’s mouth twitches to the side.

“I’m not stupid,” Andromeda tells them, which they should already know. She was the mastermind behind most of their pranks in their youth, after all. “You’ve already done it now.”

Sirius sighs, a deep, long thing that seems at once strange and usual for him. “Fair enough,” he says, sweeping his hair out of his eyes with practised ease. It’s getting long again; Andromeda should make him sit down and cut his hair. “You should sit down.”

*********

Sirius brings a dagger that Andromeda’s seen in one of the display cases in the study and offers it to her. It’s goblin-wrought silver, he tells her, coated in basilisk venom, a thing a friend of his managed to procure for him. It is one of the few things that can destroy the soul inside the diary.

“Your honours, Dromeda,” Regulus says softly, standing against the wall next to the fireplace. She only now notices the golden chain of the locket resting against his chest, the shape of it obvious underneath his white shirt now that she knows what to look for.

“This is how we end it?” she asks, looking between him and Sirius, unsure at whom the question is directed.

But it’s Sirius, with his eyes like shards of ice, his back like a pillar of steel, that says in a firm, cool voice, “Yes.”

Andromeda nods, steeling herself, grips the dagger and stabs it into the middle of the leather diary. Black ink bleeds out, pulsing in time with the shrill, dull screams that tear out of it. Andromeda dives to the side, the dagger clattering to the ground as she covers her ears. Sirius catches her, pressing her against his chest with a quiet, soothing murmur, the sensation unfamiliar after so many years but Andromeda can’t look away from the horror before her, knowing that it’s a piece of someone’s soul dying, something she caused. Voldemort was, despite everything, human once, too.

The diary heaves one last spurt of black blood, then goes silent and lies there. The weight in the room lifts.

*********

“What else could be a Horcrux?” she asks Regulus the next morning. Ted and Dora are still asleep in their rooms and there’s no one else to overhear them.

Regulus looks up from his breakfast, swallowing before he answers, “Anything. Voldemort seems partial to sentimental items – his diary, Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, his family’s ring.”

“Items relating to Hogwarts?” Andromeda muses, taking a sip of her tea. “Sword of Gryffindor?”

Regulus shakes his head, eyes sharp. Andromeda doesn’t doubt that everything she might come up with he has already thought of. “Only a true Gryffindor can get his hands on that one.”

“Ravenclaw’s Diadem?”

“In theory. But it’s been lost for centuries.”

Andromeda knows, of course, so she nods and doesn’t mention it again; but something trickles against her mind, an old memory, a passing thought, and it doesn’t let go.

*********

Regulus pokes Sirius, dozing on the couch next to them, while they file through different texts. It’s tedious and gruesome work, Horcrux hunting, and no one can blame him for not wanting to participate in it after having to deal with the Death Eaters for weeks. “How did you convince Narcissa?” he asks.

It makes sense that he would; if Sirius was Andromeda’s favourite cousin, then Narcissa was Regulus’s, the feeling no doubt mutual. Although years apart, they both found solace in the quiet things, the unassuming ones; they have always been the counterweights to Sirius and Andromeda. Regulus must have kept the worry for her despite everything that happened—or perhaps exactly because of it.

Sirius blinks open his eyes, languid. The dark bags underneath them are a horrible sight to behold but not an unusual one. “I mentioned Draco – that it might help keep him safe if she did what I asked.” He makes a face, absent. “I’m not proud of it.”

Regulus glances at him, then back down at the parchment in his hands. “Had to be done,” he murmurs.

“He’s a good kid,” Sirius says, a tinge of fondness creeping into his voice. “Happy.” He adds, to Regulus or Andromeda, she doesn’t know, “You’d like him.”

Andromeda knows he doesn’t mean to hurt them but it stings, the knowledge that he gets to know their nephew, gets to see him grow up while they are stuck here, grasping at dragon’s breath. The darkness rises up in her for a moment, two, then dies down. It doesn’t disappear exactly – but Sirius has sacrificed so much for them and still does, on a daily basis. Having that small reprieve, that one little gift, is the least that he deserves.

He’s happy. I can never resent him for it.

Besides, it is just a matter of time.

*********

Regulus turns twenty-one years old in the hottest week of the summer. Andromeda forgets sometimes, how young they all are, how much they have already suffered.

She bakes him a cake, the cranberry one he so adored as a child. Dora draws him a picture of him, Sirius and the three of them, prouder of it than she ever has been of any other accomplishment. Sirius buys him a set of books and even hugs him, a quick, brief thing that nonetheless makes Andromeda’s eyes sting.

He blows out the candles and Dora asks him, “Did you wish for anything?”

Regulus cradles the back of her head, fingers carding through the purplish hair there. “Oui,” he says, “I did.”

He doesn’t tell them, of course, and Dora is content with that, but he slips out of the house in the evening and Andromeda has an inkling anyway.

*********

Andromeda doesn’t look at the newspapers anymore. She stopped long before Bellatrix came crashing through her front door and the idea is to never start doing it again until she dies or until Voldemort is defeated, whichever comes first—and she’s having her doubts.

But it’s pointless not to look at newspapers when she can just take one look at Sirius when he comes through the door and know how bad it is anyway. Given the fact that most of the media is currently already controlled by the Death Eaters, that way is even more accurate than the Daily Prophet itself. She wishes she didn’t have to know, that she could just curl into the space between Ted and Dora and stay there forever, the rest of the world be damned.

There are people in the rest of the world, though, people she loves, people she knows, people she wishes she could make amends with. Sirius. Narcissa. Lucretia. Her classmates, her colleagues. They’re all fighting, in their own way, she’s sure of it. It seems unfair that she gets to step away from that.

The thing is, she could. Sirius is the Secret Keeper of this house and she knows he would let her if she asked; even if his cover was blown, even if he was tortured to death, she knows he would not give them up and they would all be safe for the rest of their lives.

But at the end of the day, Andromeda knows who she wants under the roof of this house if the worst time comes and it’s not just her small family and Regulus; it’s Sirius and Narcissa and a dozen people in-between. So she covers Regulus with a blanket, kisses the top of his head as he moves and murmurs in his sleep, and brushes Sirius’s hair away from his face, presses a kiss to the edge of the scar across his cheek. Then she settles against them, opens the book again and starts reading.

The war isn’t going to end itself.

*********

“He has the Ministry,” Sirius says with a hoarse voice on a November morning. He came sometime during the night, slept on the couch again. It’s the first thing he’s said since they woke up.

Regulus frowns. “There hasn’t been any indication—”

“Imperius,” Sirius says, shrugging. “Bagnold and most of her office – I don’t know exactly who, though. He didn’t put me on the job.”

“Who then?” Andromeda asks and dreads the answer even before Sirius’s eyes, dull and dark, catch hers.

“Lucius. Bellatrix. Rodolphus.”

“Why not you?” says Regulus. “We wouldn’t—” He rubs a hand across his face, makes a soft, agitated noise. “We were doing so well.”

“I know, Reg,” Sirius says softly. “Believe me, I know.” He worries his lip and sucks his cheeks in; they look even more hollow now, his face as white as death. “He’s sending me to the werewolves.”

Regulus blanches. “Again?”

Sirius’s nod is short, curt, like he’s already resigned. “He wants them ready. He has something up his sleeve, I don’t know what. He’s not telling me. I don’t think he’s telling Bellatrix either.”

One short conversation, a few scraps of information and the world is already infinitely worse than it was mere minutes ago. A lump gathers in Andromeda’s throat. The Ministry being done for was to be expected, of course it was, but it’s worse now that it’s actually happening, when the possibility of the people outside being protected is completely gone, not only because the government has fallen but because Sirius won’t be there either.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, trying for a reassuring smile but his mouth trembles. “They’re not such big bad wolves as they’re painted to be. Preferrable to the Death Eaters, really.”

*********

Dora cries when he tells her, throwing her arms around him and clinging to him long enough that Andromeda has to look away.

Sirius holds her, murmuring soft words to her, shushing and rocking her to the side. “C'est d'accord, ” he says, soft against the wild purple of Dora’s hair. “It’s just a couple months, Dora. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“But it’s your birthday tomorrow,” Dora tells him between sniffles. “I haven’t finished your present yet.”

Sirius blinks, mouth open, and Andromeda wonders if he even remembered – or maybe he didn’t expect that they would remember, that she and Regulus would care enough to tell Dora. Oh, Sirius. “Your presence is present enough, Dora,” he says finally, pulling her into another hug. His head is tucked against hers, his eyes closed, the gentle expression on his face at odds with the strength he’s holding her against him. “Besides,” he says, slowly drawing back, “you can give it to me when I come back.” He pokes her in the belly and that makes her crack a reluctant smile. “Gives me something to look forward to.”

*********

It’s worse, somehow. It’s not like he wasn’t gone before but at least they knew he was around somewhere. Regulus could reach him when the need called for it and it was a matter of days, or weeks, at worst, before he came home. Now, it’s months, an endless stretch of time that only seems to draw on longer with the lack of success their research offers.

Then Regulus says, “A Horcrux can be a living thing.”

Andromeda looks up from her parchment, the image of Ravenclaw’s lost diadem now permanently scorched into her mind, all too familiar, then blinks at Regulus. “What?”

He stretches across the coffee table to hand her the piece of an old text. It’s in Ancient Runes, her brain blanking for a second before it starts translating, but Regulus has already continued by the time she’s halfway through. “The soul can be placed inside a living thing – an animal, a plant, a human, probably.” His eyes are shining when she glances at him. “Sirius said Voldemort found this snake, Nagini. He always keeps her at his side and with his obsession with being the Heir of Slytherin—” He tilts his head to the side, like a cat, giving a slow one-shouldered shrug.

“He made her a Horcrux,” Andromeda finishes, her mouth tugging up at the corners.

Regulus nods, running a hand through his tousled hair. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes twinkling. “We’d have to check— Sirius would have to check,” he corrects, his forehead creasing up, his eyes blinking closed for a second, “but it’s likely.” He takes a quill and scribbles a quick message onto a small piece of parchment lying to the side. He slices the tip of his finger open and presses it to the top of the parchment, leaving behind a bloody fingerprint when he pulls it back. He taps his wand against it, once, twice, then sits back. The parchment disappears in a puff of blue-black smoke.

*********

“What will you do, Andi?” Marina asks, her voice velvet-smooth. She’s sitting on a throne in front Andromeda, leg crossed over the other, her sea-blue dress barely reaching the bend of her knee. Her chest is splashed with red, her brown hair tangled around her bruised face. A tiara rests atop her head, it, too, speckled with red.

Andromeda pushes back the urge to throw up. She’s dreaming, she knows she is, but Marina’s death is still an aching scar; she will never forget the emptiness of her eyes as they stared up at the ceiling painted in her own blood. “I don’t know,” she whispers.

“You? You, Andromeda Black, don’t know?” Marina says with a laugh, a high, breathy thing that sends chills down Andromeda’s spine; it is not the familiar, throaty sound she remembers. “I don’t believe it.”

“You know how you can help. Of course you do.”

“I don’t, I don’t.”

Marina shoots her an unimpressed look, eyes dark. She reaches up to move a stray strand of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Where is it, Andi?”

A sob builds up in Andromeda’s throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Marina was always a sharp person, a no-nonsense kind of one, but she never demanded more of people than what she knew they could give.

She shakes her head, fingers gripping the edge of the throne until her knuckles are white as bone. “You know,” she says. “Now you just have to remember where it is.”

*********

They celebrate Christmas without Sirius.

Regulus, rosy-cheeked, drags in a Christmas tree, tall enough to reach the ceiling and make Dora jump around with glee, her hair changing colours every time her feet touch the ground. They adorn it with ornaments Ted and Andromeda, despite her wand acting up, manage to conjure up and spend the day before Christmas baking cookies. By the end of the day, they are all so full they nearly forget anyone is missing at all. Come morning, they are all starkly aware of it again.

New Year’s Eve comes around and that passes without Sirius, too. Regulus sits outside on the cliff until they drag him in and even then, his eyes seem hollow, his voice empty when he says, “I forgot—it’s been a year—more than—since—” He puts his face in his hands and whispers, “Evan.”

It’s a sombre affair, New Year’s Day.

*********

Dora’s birthday is looking to be the same kind of subdued when no one is around in the morning—just the two of them, curled up on the couch while Dora opens the gift Andromeda managed to get for her. Ted and Regulus disappeared down into the village a couple of hours ago.

It should be better, Andromeda thinks. It’s her tenth birthday, the last whole year before she’s set to leave for Hogwarts and she deserves better. The knowledge that she can’t give it to her presses down on her chest, too heavy.

“I love you, little one,” Andromeda tells her, kissing the crown of her head. At least she’s happier now, at least she’s safe this year. At least Andromeda can be thankful for that.

“Love you too, Mum,” Dora says back absently, fingers skimming over the Quidditch book she’s unwrapped. She smiles up at her, though, bright and sudden. “Thank you, I love it.”

Dora is not a naïve child, has never really been, but Andromeda sees how much calmer she is now, how much more she considers everything she says or does and it makes her want to get up and find Bellatrix herself – to do to her the unspeakable things that she did to her daughter, to show her that she took away something from an innocent bystander in the name of something as trivial as blood. But it doesn’t matter to Bellatrix, it never has, and it isn’t worth it, not when both Andromeda and Nymphadora would lose so much with it.

“We’re back!” Ted shouts as he wheels himself into the living room, his lap full of presents. He’s grown stronger in the past months, his muscles building back up once he started moving around; but more important than that, he’s happier and not resigned but at peace with this big change life has brought for him.

“We even picked up a renegade,” Regulus adds, following in after Ted and carrying a load of things, the beginning and end of which Andromeda cannot for the life of her figure out. He frowns at someone behind him. “He’s refused to help us carry the gifts.”

Sirius steps in after him, dressed in clean, pressed dark robes, everything about him sleek and polished. He shrugs, his too-long hair falling in his eyes, and says, “I am the gift.”

Dora shrieks and ricochets herself off of the armrest, slamming into Sirius with enough force to make him stumble back a step; and he is. He really is.

*********

Sirius bends down low over Regulus and her, each of his hands on their shoulders. He doesn’t look unwell, not for a man who was supposed to have been dealing with feral creatures for the past few months. “You were right,” he murmurs, low enough Dora and Ted won’t hear. Andromeda thinks Ted probably knows anyway. “Nagini is a Horcrux.”

*********

Sirius is sitting eerily still for someone who could not be forced to calm down as a child. Then again, there are many aspects in which Sirius has changed and settled; this can hardly be any different. He’s letting her cut his hair, which is, although soft and glossy for the most part, damaged enough she will have to cut off at least a half of it.

“Don’t the werewolves have any tools to keep themselves in order?” she grumbles, sniping off half of a strand. Once it falls in place, it just reaches his earlobe.

Sirius breathes deep. “They live in poverty, Dromeda,” he says, rolling his shoulders back. Through the thin material of his white shirt, she can see a scabbed wound stretching from one shoulder to the other. “They can hardly afford such luxuries.”

Andromeda has, as a principle, made it her main objective in the last decade to be as different from her family as possible. In large part, that involved successfully relearning every ideology Cygnus and Druella had done their best to instil in her. On the rare occasion, however, Andromeda, in her admittedly bull-headed pushing, came to the limits of her own morality, to the grey zone that she could not move out of solely on the basis of being far away from the Blacks’ mentalities. Werewolves and similar dark creatures fell into that grey zone because at the end of the day Andromeda, as a child from a deeply dysfunctional family, felt she didn’t have the ability to make the judgement for herself. She fears such moments most, when she realises that she can escape her family, but some shackles can never be fully stripped away.

Sirius’s voice is soft but rather lost, a boat far out in the open sea. “They’re not bad people, not most of them,” he murmurs into his hands covering his mouth. “Those that are, were bad people before they were ever Turned.”

*********

Andromeda stands in a vast room, with no end in sight. There are piles of trinkets around her, large piles of every little thing Andromeda can think of and yet larger ones of things she couldn’t name to save her life. They are arranged in lines, leaving narrow rows for passage in-between.

She steps forward, down one of those rows, her fingers skimming over the things scattered atop. A book, glasses, a quill. A frame, a wand, a tiara. A piece of string, a wig, a bust.

Marina appears in front of her, dressed as she was the last time, only her hair is woven into a crown of brown and red now, her fingers taut with dried blood. “You are far more foolish than I thought you were,” she says, looking down at her with hooded eyes and curved mouth. “I thought you were the observant type.”

“What are you talking about?” Andromeda asks. She’s tired of these dreams, these nightmares that plague her even in the daylight. If she’s not dreaming about them, she’s thinking of them. She wishes they stopped.

“Where is it, Andromeda?” Marina says, huffing impatiently but not in the way Andromeda is used to. “Where are we?”

Andromeda looks around. The ceiling of the room is high and dark, plain and unassuming, the walls too far away or too covered to be made out. She knows this place, she’s certain of it. She’s been here before. This meant something to her once, once, a long time ago—

And then it hits her. The seventh-floor corridor, the left one—the tapestry with the room that was never not there, the one she hid all the evidence of her relationship with Ted in, then later on of her plan to escape. I need a place to hide my things.

She turns, eyes searching for the thing she should have remembered a long time ago. The wig, the painting, the frame.

It’s resting on a precariously-put set of old, leather-bound books, covered in dust, all the glamour that should have been there long gone; but she knows where it is and what it is. She knows, she knows.

Marina has moved to stand next to her, her breaths steady. The blood has disappeared from her dress, has been washed out of her hair and off her hands. “I knew you’d remember eventually,” she says, fingers curling around Andromeda’s wrist. Her voice is once again the harmony of warm, raspy tones Andromeda knows. “It’s high time the war ended.”

Andromeda is stumbling out of bed before she’s even fully awake.

*********

Regulus grumbles when she shakes him and tries to burrow himself deeper under the covers. The sun is beginning to arc across the sky, far too early yet, but this is important. Andromeda cannot wait when she knows every minute wasted is a minute more that the people she loves have to suffer.

“I know where the last Horcrux is,” she tells him and he’s sat up within the next three seconds.

He looks up at her, grey eyes wide and just the little bit glassy, but his voice is strong. “Where?”

“Hogwarts.”

*********

Regulus sends a message to Sirius, the words smudged with sleep, messy with haste. We know where the last one is. Come as soon as you can.

After it’s disappeared in the burst of smoke, Andromeda asks, “What do we do now?”

Regulus sits down in front of the fireplace and opens a book, the picture of restrained calm. She shares none of it; her body is alive with the need to get up, to pace, to do something. “We wait.”

*********

Hours pass. Then days.

Sirius doesn’t come.

*********

The door to the terrace slips open so quietly Andromeda almost doesn’t hear it. She thinks for a moment it’s Dora or Regulus and she doesn’t even deign to open her eyes. Then she remembers Dora has taken off on a broom, diligently supervised by Ted, and Regulus is sitting next to her, gently rocking the garden swing they’ve settled on for the morning.

She stands up, just a second after Regulus, and whirls towards the door. She’s never felt anger like this before, pulsing in her belly like a fresh seal, scratching against the walls of her throat, as if it might tear them apart if she doesn’t let it out. She hides her trembling hands in the pockets of her dress.

Then she sees Sirius. His hair is a mess, haphazard around his face, his chest heaving with quick, rash breaths. The beat of his heart is not nearly audible but even so, Andromeda can imagine its fast pace just fine. He’s holding their message in one hand, his fingers dark with blood, a stark contrast to his pale face once he brings them up to it.

All the fight drains out of Andromeda.

Regulus doesn’t seem to share the sentiment. “Where have you been?” he asks, voice at once lower and louder than Andromeda’s ever heard him use. “We sent the message nearly two weeks ago.” He pauses, eyes flicking up and down Sirius’s body. “No matter.” He steps forward, grabbing Sirius by the shoulder and shaking him lightly. He cracks a smile, unsure in the face of Sirius’s indifference. “Sirius, we found it. It’s the Ravenclaw Diadem. It’s at Hogwarts.”

That does get Sirius to blink and shake his head, like a dog getting water out of his ears. “Oh good,” he says, voice hoarse. “We can kill two birds with one stone.”

Regulus’s smile fades as he steps back, his arms falling back to his sides. “What do you mean?”

Sirius clears his throat. He looks down at his hands, at the bloodied message, then up at Dora, laughing in the sky. Once his eyes move, they flick towards Andromeda, then settle back on Regulus. “Voldemort has had a spy at Hogwarts since September,” he says, his face crumpling with a desperation Andromeda hasn’t seen on him, probably ever, opening up like a chasm after an earthquake. “He’s going to attack Hogwarts at nightfall.”

#harry potter #sirius black #andromeda black #andromeda tonks #death eater sirius black #not really #but technically #regulus black #regulus black lives #ted tonks #nymphadora tonks #sirius and andromeda #sirius and regulus #sirius and nymphadora #in a world three degrees north

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