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nightowlwriting · 3 years ago

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summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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fandom-puff · 4 years ago

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Teach Me Tiger- Tywin Lannister

Warnings: political/arranged marriage, smut, loss of virginity, sketchy medieval sex Ed (ie, reader thinks the only purpose of sex is procreation), masturbation/guided masturbation, older man/younger woman

This is inspired a little by my Tywin Lannister marriage HCs a did a few weeks ago :). Also soz it took so long I was working on this for quite a while and I DEFINITELY got carried away oops xx

Gif creds to owner

Song creds to owner

Teach me Tiger how to kiss you

Show me Tiger how to kiss you

The heavy velvet draped over your shoulders, in Lannister red and gold, almost weighing you down as you turned back to the septon, not daring to look up at the old lion you now called husband. Barely processing the words of the septon, you stood stock still, until it was time for you to turn to Tywin, tip your chin up and receive his kiss. It was a chaste, barely there kiss, done out of duty rather than love. Of course there wasn’t any love behind it; this marriage was done only out of duty, duty to Casterly Rock, which needed a suitable heir without a tarnished reputation for incest and whoreing, duty to your house, which desperately needed Lannister gold and men. Nevertheless, the ghost of a kiss still left you a little breathless and dizzy, and you couldn’t help but think of the bedding ceremony later on that night.

Take my lips, they belong to you

“We do not have to consummate the marriage right this instant,”

You looked over your shoulder, lip drawn into you mouth nervously. “But-”

“You’re young, inexperienced. And you’ve been tense with nerves since you walked into the sept. Come. Sit. We’ll have some wine. Talk, if you’d like,” Tywin gestured to a simple couch, big enough for the two of you to sit without being too close.

Still worrying your lip between your teeth, you perched on the edge, accepting your Lord husband’s offer of a goblet of wine. “I- I thought... my purpose was to give you an heir, my Lord,” you murmured, staring at the dark red liquid in the cup.

Tywin sighed and sat down, leaving just over a foot between you, nursing his own goblet. “It is. Eventually,” he said. “When you are ready. I would not force myself on you,”

“But the king said-”

“Never mind what the king said. My grandson has no say in what happens in my- our marriage chamber,”

A little more relaxed, you braved a look up at your husband, admiring his chiselled jaw, his blonde hair streaked with white, before quickly draining your goblet, feeling a little more relaxed as you stood to set it down. Tywin watched with fascination as you put your cup back on the tray, eyes fixed on you as you came to sit back down- he was very much aware of the fact that you sat a little closer to him. Happy to go off your lead, he continued to nurse his drink, eyes occasionally flicking to you as you shuffled a little closer. He tensed briefly as you leaned into him, before relaxing slowly.

“I-I’d like you to kiss me, please,” you murmured, your soft voice barely reaching his ears. Tywin arched his brows, locking eyes with you, silently asking if you were sure.

You nodded your head, tipping your chin up the same way you had done in the Sept.

But teach me first, teach me what to do

Tywin gave you another chaste kiss that had your tummy fluttering, and you found yourself leaning further forward as he was pulling away. A low laugh rumbled in his chest. “Easy now,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, looking away, cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“For what?” Tywin asked, standing up and offering you his hand.

“For... being inexperienced, I suppose. I doubt I’m the most exciting bedfellow you’ve ever had,” you rubbed your arm, self conscious. Despite the heat of kings landing, you felt a soft chill skitter over your flesh. “I don’t... know...” you looked at the floor, suddenly very interested in the grain of the wood.

“You’re a maid, I take it?” When you nodded quickly, Tywin held up his hand. “It matters not to me. Not in that way. But I presume you’ve never known a man? I presume you’ve never... known yourself?” He added in an undertone, and you let out a little gasp, shaking your head.

“Will you...” you gulped, looking up at him, seeing his pupils slowly expand. “Teach me? To know...”

“Teach you to know me, or yourself?”

You straightened your back, chest raising and falling with each breath. “Both,”

Touch me Tiger when I'm close to you

The small sitting area, with its couch, desk, bookshelves and table, was most certainly not the place for the consummation of your marriage. Tywin led you through a small passageway and a door to his sleeping chambers. Instantly, your eyes made contact with the bed, already turned down, pillows plumped. Clearing his throat, Tywin directed your attention back to him. “Help me with these buttons. They are much too fiddly,” he said, gesturing to his doublet. You smiled softly, happy to carry out the simple task to put your nerves at ease, knowing full well that Tywin could undo his own buttons. “Shall I undo your braids?” He asked as you folded the expensive scarlet fabric, leaving him in his linen shirt and his trousers.

“Yes please,” you murmured. “The hairpins have been stabbing me all day and night,”

Tywin smirked, stepping behind you and towering over you as he began unpinning the intricate braids, letting you unravel them as they fell to your shoulders. “We can’t have that,” he said and you smiled, running your fingers through your hair. When the final braid was loosened and unraveled, you couldn’t help but lean back into Tywin, sighing softly as his hands came to rub the tension out of your shoulders. Eyes fluttering shut, you tipped your head back to rest it against his shoulder, exposing your throat and allowing him to undo your necklace and cast it aside as your apprehension melted away. Slowly, Tywin’s elegant hands moved from your shoulders to smooth over your waist, making you gasp as his fingers kneaded the flesh there.

“My Lord-”

“Tywin,” he whispered into your ear, relishing in your little shudder.

“Tywin...” you sighed. “Please... the dress...”

“Off?” He asked, just to be sure, not wanting to rush you. With your eager nod, he made a noise of content, stepping back a little to access the lacing of your dress, slowly unthreading it, allowing the delicate fabric to flutter to the ground, leaving you in your chemise and stockings and bodice. You kicked off your shoes, dropping a few inches in height as you began fumbling with the fiddly laces of your bodice. His eyes were firmly on you as you began the painstaking process of unlacing your bodice, and you did not miss the way his tongue darted out to moisten his lips as your nimble fingers worked the end of the lace through the many holes. When the structured garment finally fell to the ground with a dull thud, you looked back up to him, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest- the thin chemise you wore as a buffer between your corset and your skin was sheer enough that you were sure he could see your tightening nipples through it.

Tywin flicked his eyes over your form briefly, before approaching you slowly. You were fully aware that he still had his boots and trousers on, though now that his doublet was off, you could see the tightness in them. Arching his brow in amusement, he asked “would you like me to undress?”

Chewing your lip, you nodded, sitting on the foot of his bed as you watched him take off his shirt. You gulped, eyeing up his chest shamelessly; you were surprised at how... well he looked, especially at his age, your eyes lingering on his sinewy yet strong form. Snapping out of your little trance, you looked to the floor, face flooding with heat as Tywin smirked at you. “You can look, you know. I am your husband after all,”

You let out a nervous laugh at his remark, though as he kicked off his boots and began to unlace his trousers, you couldn’t unlock your eyes from his stare, drawing your lip into your mouth as his trousers dropped to the floor. “S-should we... get into bed?” You murmured.

“We shall. But I will say this now, YN, if you do not want to be intimate tonight, I can wait until you’re ready. We could just lay and talk, or you could sleep,”

You smiled slightly. Tywin was surprising you more and more; at the wedding feast you had heard bawdy remarks that the head of house Lannister would simply have his wicked way with you and then bundle you off to Casterly Rock whether you liked it or not. It seemed he would do nothing of the sort. “I’d like to lay a while,” you murmured. Tywin nodded and gestured for you to make himself comfortable in the grand bed. It was difficult not to, what with the soft pillows and comfortable mattress. Tywin lay by your side, leaving a gap between you both as he had done on the couch, drawing the covers up to cover you both.

Help me Tiger, I don't know what to do

You lay in relative silence for a while, occasionally glancing at one another, making small remarks here and there. Eventually, a streak of boldness bolted through you and you turned on your side, facing Tywin, your chin propped up by your hand.

“you know before...” you began, trying to avoid Tywin’s gaze as he looked at you with amusement. You sighed, changing tack. “You said you would help me to know you,”

“That I did,” he prompted, knowing there was something more to your rambling.

“But... you also said you’d help me... know myself,” Tywin nodded slowly, urging you on. “How?” You finished bluntly.

“I assume you know... the mechanics,” he said vaguely.

“Yes. Well, what my septa taught me,”

“Ah. What your septa failed to tell you was that it can be quite... an enjoyable experience. For both parties. You may feel intense pleasure, that is,”

“But... the purpose is to... make an heir,” you said, frowning slightly.

“And there is more chance of success if you enjoy yourself doing it,”

You bit your lip slightly. “Can you show me?” You asked, voice barely more than a whisper. Tywin looked at you intensely, and instantly, you answered the silent questions that blazed in his eyes. “Please. I’m sure,”

Nodding, Tywin eased you onto your back, proving himself up on his elbow as he hovered over you. “It is very important that you prepare yourself... there are many places in your body that the simplest touch-” still beneath the sheets, he dragged his knuckle over your clothes waist, smirking at your shiver, “-will bring you pleasure. Touch your body, YN, through your chemise,” you nodded slowly, shutting your eyes as you ran your fingertips up, over your thighs, your hips, your waist... then back down. On every other journey, you’d swipe your thumbs over your clothed nipples, gasping and arching your back. Tywin hummed in approval, tipping your chin up so he could press several kisses to your throat. “Very good...” he whispered into your ear, relishing in your pleased shudder. He placed his large hand over one of yours and guided it further south. You gulped, aware of the hot wetness gathering between your thighs. “Now... here...”

You took a breath, hitching your chemise up until it was bunched over your hips. Tywin could not see thanks to the covers, but he could just imagine your wetness, giving the way you had been wriggling your hips. “Spread your legs,” he murmured, feeling his cock twitch in wake of your pretty sighs. “Good,” he praised, and you nodded, biting your lip hard. “Now, touch yourself, between your legs,”

“How will I know if...”

“You will know,” he affirmed and you nodded, beginning to stroke around the general vicinity until-

Your back arched and you let out a shuddery moan. He was right. You definitely knew. Quickly becoming both breathless and speechless, you allowed yourself to succumb to pleasure as your lord husband watched. Gasping for air, you felt yourself climb further and further and further, until you toppled over the peak, aided by a slight pinch to your nipple. Shaking, you stared up at the ceiling, feeling gentle lips pressed against your forehead as you recovered from your high. You felt yourself leaning into him, moaning softly at the dull throb between your legs. When you finally trusted yourself to speak without an embarrassing wobble to your voice, you looked up at your husband, eyes blown wide with desire for the lion. “Please...” you whispered.

I know that you could love me to

But show me first, show me what to do

This is the first love that I have ever known

What must I do to make you my very own?

Tywin nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You knew his tenderness was to calm you down. It wasn’t out of love; how could you love one another? Your marriage had been one of political strategy, and you were well aware that the only love Tywin Lannister ever knew was for his late wife Joanna.

Teach me Tiger how to tease you

But as Tywin manoeuvred himself between your thighs, the candle light casting shadows from his high cheekbones, you felt... something. He was being so gentle with you, so tender, his large hands splaying over your waist and stomach and hips as you tugged your chemise over your head, leaving you completely nude beneath him. You licked your lips quickly, feeling undoubtedly exposed as you were spread out beneath him, thighs parted to cradle him between them. Eyeing the bulge in his linen underwear, you bit your lip, your nerves running through you again, mile a minute.

Sensing your nervousness, Tywin took your hand, guiding it slowly to his prominent bulge. You gasped, feeling the hot, hard flesh through the fabric as you palmed him. Even through the fabric you could tell how well endowed he was. As your hand ran over the ridges of his cock, Tywin let out a suppressed groan. “Clever girl,” he praised softly and you smiled, nibbling your lip.

Eventually, Tywin knocked your hand away, reaching to fish his cock from his underwear. You barely got a look before he was hovering above you, holding one of your thighs apart with one hand, the other guiding his cock over your wet entrance. “This may hurt... only for a moment,” he murmured, and you nodded- your septa had not spared you the details of procreation.

As he eased his cock into your waiting hole, you felt yourself tense up. He was barely in you, yet you felt so full. The fullness was soon accompanied by a slight pain that had you gasping, but pretty soon you were overcome by the sensation of being stretched out. Giving an experimental rock of your hips, you groaned out, the noise guttural and wanton, and your lips were unable to stop it escaping. “Move,” you whispered. “Move, please,” you hooked your legs around his hips for good measure, heels beginning to press into his lower back as he began rocking his hips, pulling almost all the way out before easing back in.

Once he was sure you had adjusted properly, Tywin’s thrusts became a little rougher, shallower, and you could feel his cock drag over the sensitive walls then clenched tightly around it. He knelt up, dragging you further down the mattress as he rutted into you, skin slapping hard against yours as you wriggled, head tipped back to groan and cry out. Your hair was a mess, your lips were swollen, and your noises steadily grew louder and louder despite your attempts muffle them. Tywin did not try to quiet you, relishing in the cries of passion he was able to draw from you. It gave him a sense of pride to know that his wife was in ecstasy, that his wife was taking her pleasure beneath him like she were a common harlot and he a lowly peasant. And most of all, he relished in the fact that you would soon have a belly full of his children, swelling with the continuation of the Lannister dynasty.

Tiger, Tiger I wanna squeeze you

Clutching onto any inch of his skin you could find, your back arched upwards off the bed as your nails dragged down his arms, you came with a lusty, broken cry, your entire being quivering around him as a sensation more intense than your previous orgasm washed over you. Tywin growled, letting out a low shuddering groan as he finished, and you felt the odd, yet erotic, sensation of his seed filling you to the brim.

All of my love I will give to you

Panting, twitching, and letting out soft whimpers, you fell back among the pillows as Tywin moved to your side. “Are you alright?” He asked you, pressing the pads of his thumbs against your cheeks, swiping away your fallen tears. You didn’t even realise you were crying, too distracted by your crashing release. You managed a small nod and a hum of reassurance as you slowly regained the ability to move. Already you felt your thighs aching, your core still throbbing. You could feel a bit of your husband’s seed slipping from your body, trailing lazily between your thighs. The rest, you knew, was deep inside of you. Tywin sat up, tugging the sheets back over you before laying back down beside you. You hummed contentedly as Tywin pulled you into his side, and you could feel his heart still pounding as you both settled into post coital bliss.

“Do you think... it’ll work?” You murmured, already nodding off as the room became dimmer, the candles close to their ends.

“What, that you’ll be with child after tonight?” When you have a slight nod, Tywin chuckled. “Part of me hopes so. As you’re aware, I am in desperate need of a suitable heir,”

“And the other part?” You whispered.

“The other part of me hopes that you don’t fall pregnant just yet...” you picked up on the suggestive edge to his voice, increasingly grateful for the darkening room as your eyes widened.

“If I don’t... if I’m not... then we will try again. Maybe even... recreationally,” you cringed inwardly at your own formality; the man had been balls deep in you only moments ago. “But I will do my best to fulfil my duties as your lady wife,”

“Hmm... and the lady of Casterly rock?” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Casterly rock too. On one condition though,”

But teach me Tiger or I'll teach you

Tywin arched his brows, not used to being given conditions.

“You treat me well. You obey your vows. You don’t treat me like a whore or a thing to fuck and throw away as soon as you’ve got an heir and a spare. You treat me as your lady wife. Protect me, guide me, and at the very least, try to love me. Because that is exactly what I will be doing for you,”

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen

#Spotify #tywin lannister imagine #tywin x you #tywin lannister x reader #tywin lannister smut #Tywin x reader #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones smut #fandom puff’s 5000 follower celebration

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ryouverua · 3 years ago

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Saimota is a fantastic ship that only improves with age and their respective maturity. Right from the get-go we see this in canon, too! They have a tumultuous first clash at the end of chapter 1 which is immediately turned on its head, and the subsequent growth and development of their in-game relationship really stands out that much more because of it.

This is a long one, so strap in!

Kaito realizes his mistake in his approach after punching him the night before and rectifies it immediately the next morning when he notices Shuichi hasn’t come to breakfast, rightly guessing that he’s stewing in his own grief and misery. And then, being the emotionally intelligent guy he is, he follows up that night and drags him out to exercise (which, y’know, releases endorphins and is scientifically proven to help with mood boosts and even depression) - a move which Shuichi says in chapter 5 saved his life.

A couple days pass and a body drops. Kaito supports him through the investigation knowing that Kaede had been with him last time and that there’s a danger of him relapsing. In the trial, too, Kaito makes every effort to let Shuichi know that he isn’t alone and someone does have his back if he fumbles. This is the real moment that Shuichi chooses to depend on Kaito and is rewarded for it, and while Kaito does get plenty of ego-feed out of it, he believes in Shuichi and his talent wholeheartedly (enough so that it’ll come back to bite him later). But despite it being framed as a ‘hero and sidekick’ relationship, it’s not just for Kaito’s self-worth - it’s to take some of the mental load off of Shuichi, who really, really doesn’t want the pressure of everyone’s lives solely on his shoulders, and is now dealing with the guilt of two cases where uncovering the guilty party hurt him.

(quick chapter 2 interlude! while this is where a lot of the big hero-worship begins for Shuichi and happens to be where I also did his first FTE and got to witness this:

this is also the chapter when these moments happen, post-breakfast and post-casino scene respectively:

and this happens in the very next FTE:

mmm yes, the duality of man. Suffice it to say, while Shuichi has definite rose-coloured glasses on for a lot of the game, Kaito is definitely not an invincible, untouchable hero in his eyes)

Interestingly enough, despite Shuichi still very much leaning into their friendship (and vice versa), they don’t spend a lot of time together in Chapter 3 after he brings Maki out to training that first night! While Chapter 4 is their real ‘break’, Kaito spends a lot of time in his room in the second half while Shuichi gets to know Maki better. And while Maki is a much, uh, meaner investigation partner (love you girl, but that tongue is sharp), they make a great team. Shuichi also starts poking at Kaito’s reason for holing up in his room, incorrectly guess that it’s just related to the occult being brought up. Most importantly, Shuichi is able to do an investigation on his own independent of Kaito just a week after the end of Chapter 1.

Chapter 4 and its immediate aftermath in 5 is great because it showcases Kaito’s flaws and insecurity, and what conflict between the two of them look like. It’s because Kaito respects Shuichi so much that cracks in his own confidence start appearing - and while Shuichi can be obtuse and awkward at times, he shows signs of wanting to broach some more sensitive topics with Kaito; if you do FTEs with Kaito in Ch 4, he even has an inner narrative in which he notes that Kaito had said his stomach hurt before.

He’s not so self-absorbed as to not worry about his friend (but narratively we gotta save that juicy plot point and subsequent reveal for the end of the trial) but hey, Kaito wants to chill and just shoot the shit - so why not have some downtime with his friend in the murder school. Btw, their FTE availability ends here - so if Shuichi has completed them with Kaito, he’s already had his canon-saimota thoughts at this point. While I have given Shuichi the side-eye for his ‘I can rely on Kaito for anything’ spiel, he is fully able and willing to stand up to Kaito in the Chapter 4 trial despite his canon feelings for him at that point. By the way, it’s been a week and a half since the end of Chapter 1 at this point. Shuichi and Kaito have had an arc together where they become fast friends in a pressure-cooker situation and bonding over shared grief for Kaede (even if Kaito’s is less obvious), Shuichi starts as dependent on Kaito’s emotional support but learns to stand on his own two feet, and Kaito is forced to confront his own weakness and hero persona, all while classmates are dropping (including Kaito’s own ex-hero figure, a stark reminder that ‘heroes’ do have flaws).

So the beginning of Chapter 5 is wild to me because of how it’s so often misinterpreted as Kaito immaturely giving Shuichi the silent treatment despite the entirety of the game preceding it explicitly showing that Kaito will tell you, loudly, when he’s angry at you, and that’s purely because we’re in Shuichi’s perspective and he thinks that’s what’s going on - but that’s a bit of a tangent. What I like about it is how we get to see what happens when Kaito (as sick as he is at that point) feels badly and embarrassed with someone he is close to; he withdraws as opposed to lashing out. And while Shuichi is really, really bad at reaching out too without an inciting incident (tunnel escape), he does try and broach the topic when push comes to shove. He’s not lost in hero worship, not even close - he is rightfully upset that the person he’s closest to at the school is upset while still maintaining to himself and the others that his actions were correct. He doesn’t waver on this, despite his attempt to offer an olive branch at the window of the hangar’s bathroom. He truly stands by his own choices in the last class trial and know he won't back down on that if push comes to shove, and that's important - he won't yield the point just to appease Kaito. Shuichi then manages the investigation on his own, leads the trial on his own, faces off with Maki (and who he thinks is Kokichi) on his own, because he has *reached* a point where he can be independent. And to bring it back to how we get a look at ‘saimota in conflict’, Shuichi and Kaito both make amends with each other by the end of the chapter. Even if it’s spurred by it being their final goodbye, Shuichi gets to say his piece, Kaito lays out one of his own vulnerabilities so he can make peace with Shuichi - and even if I’d love to have had them delve into all of Kaito's various issues, there is a very murderous robobear overseeing this which makes time a factor - and I firmly believe that if they had more time, they could’ve resolved even more of the issues that would come up for Saimota. The groundwork wasn’t just there; there was already half the structure in place. And that’s what makes saimota even more appealing to me, tbh. We get to see them build a relationship, run into a big issue, struggle through it and resolve it by the end of the game - and it means that there’s precedent for them to do it again as more interpersonal challenges come up! It’s a goldmine of ship exploration, and they care about each other enough to work through it.

… By the way, at this point they are 2 weeks past the end of Chapter 1.

Imagine if they had more time. Imagine if Shuichi, who is absolutely dogged in pursuing an issue once he catches wind of it (despite how he can get wrapped up in his own head), who cares a lot for other people, who doesn’t just find runaways as part of his detective talent, but follows up with them after because he cares about more than just finishing the job, had the chance to spend years with Kaito and realize he uses his hero persona to protect a much more fragile sense of self. Imagine Shuichi forming that initial friendship with Kaito without the albatross of Kaede’s death hanging around his neck; about how he’ll still look up to Kaito and his fantastic positivity, passion and excellence in his chosen field, and that would only be matched by Kaito’s own admiration of Shuichi’s skills as a detective. Imagine if Kaito, who repeatedly shows the ability to reflect and change his mind when presented with evidence against his viewpoint and was able to express his own insecurity and jealousy to Shuichi in the end, was given the breathing room and space to get more comfortable with doing so. Imagine how difficult and emotionally mature they were to navigate as well as they did in a life-or-death situation that took place over a couple of weeks tops, and how much more they could grow if given the time and space for it.

... And this was nearly going to be where I ended the post, until Ira reminded me of TDP and sent me this wonderful Saimota event (which takes place before the final graduation/training trio event):

Oh hey, Shuichi picked up his catchphrase! It's quite cute how he's finishing Kaito's sentence here - he's spent a couple of years being friends with Kaito at this point, and has even taken up exercising on his own for stress relief. I wonder whose influence that was?

Anyway -

Shuichi has figured out at this point that he does need to firmly extend that helping hand to Kaito rather than worry and keep it to himself. On the other side, Kaito has learned that it is okay to accept that outstretched hand, even if he doesn't need it right now - that he can admit that some day, he might. He's being blase, sure, but it is a far cry from his in-game 'I don't/won't need help'. Good for you, Kaito - you've grown a lot! And that's the most important thing their TDPs show - their capacity for growth not just as individuals, but in a relationship. Of course there will be bumps along the way - it’s very rare that any relationship won’t have them! - but they've proven that they can work these problems in the worst of circumstances. This is by far one of the strongest ships with canon foundation in the entire series, and my goodness do I still love it years later.

#saimota #Kaito Momota #momosai #Shuichi Saihara #Danganronpa v3 #spoilers #drv3 spoilers #saimota.... is good #long drv3 posts in 2021? it's more likely than you think

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thatfanficstuff · 3 years ago

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Make Me Forget (Part 1) - Elijah Mikaelson

Pairing: Elijah x reader

Warnings: angst

A/N: Celebration Summer #8. There is a part 2 to this so don't fret. Prompt is Person A gets injured Person B is not happy.

wc: 1759

***

Elijah Mikaelson and his family had left Mystic Falls to move to New Orleans months ago. And they’d left you behind in the process. After he swore to you that you’d never have to be alone again, he’d left you with little more than a letter telling you it was for the best. Associating with his family was dangerous. He couldn’t put you in danger. It would be better if you forgot about him. All of them.

What a load of shit. Elijah had swept into your life and turned everything upside down. For the first time you were a priority to someone other than yourself. It didn’t take long for him to become the center of your universe. You moved into the house and became part of the family. Klaus and you would create art and bitch about the Scooby gang. Rebekah took you shopping. Kol would try to get you into trouble while you tried to keep him out of it. And you succeeded for the most part. You’d kept him from getting killed by Jeremy and Elena. Surely, that was enough to cement your place in the family.

But they’d still left you. And it had been Elijah’s doing according to the rest of them. You texted and called and they told you how much they hated leaving you behind but Elijah had put his foot down. Threatened to leave them all if they went against his wishes.

Rebekah did admit it was dangerous at the moment. A bit of trouble with a pregnant werewolf and some witches. She still insisted it would be better with you there. That they’d all protect you.

Klaus begged you to come to his rescue. Elijah and the werewolf would be the death of him, he swore.

Kol just missed his friend. He spent hours talking about all the things the two of you could do if you were there.

Elijah was silent. There hadn’t been one answered phone call or response to any of your texts.

Rebekah swore he missed you. That he was a miserable bastard without you.

Klaus and he had argued terribly when the hybrid threatened to fetch you from Mystic Falls and bring you home where you belonged. Elijah had yelled and destroyed half the room.

Kol said when there was a moment of peace, Elijah sat alone and stared at a picture of you. “I caught him crying, Y/N. It was horrible,” he told you, dramatically.

You didn’t necessarily believe any of them. After all, he found it so easy to leave you, why would he brood over your absence. But you missed your family. You were going to New Orleans. Even if Elijah was angry with you for going against his wishes, the rest of them would welcome you with open arms. You’d just have to stand your ground with the suited Original.

There were probably a thousand better ways to get to New Orleans, but you took a bus. It was cheap and you didn’t have to drive. And even better, it didn’t involve flying. You hated to fly. You stepped off the bus and adjusted your backpack on your shoulder. You’d decided to travel light. While you intended to stay forever, you weren’t sure everyone else would be on board with that. If you did stay, you knew Rebekah would be more than happy to take you shopping to replace your clothes. And Klaus would pay for them if Elijah didn’t. It used to bother you when they spent their money on you, but you’d long gotten over it.

After typing in the address on your phone, you started to follow the walking directions. You were actually quite close to your destination when you were yanked into an alley. Almost before you had a chance to process what had happened, teeth tore into your neck. Son of a bitch. You fumbled in your bag as the vampire drank deeply. Your fingers wrapped around your stake and you slammed it into the asshole attacking you. He hissed in pain and stumbled back giving you the chance to pull it out and stab him again with more precision.

He collapsed at your feet and you stepped over him as you pulled a rag from your bag. You pressed it against the wound and tried to look inconspicuous as you stumbled the rest of the way to your family. Your head spun as you reached the door and you knocked quickly.

The door flew open to reveal none other than Kol Mikaelson. He grinned at seeing you, but it faded immediately when he noticed the state you were in. He grabbed your bag in one hand and placed the other on your arm to lead you into the house. “What happened to you, Darling?”

You made a sound of annoyance. “Guess.”

“Don’t be cheeky.” He dropped your bag by the stairs and continued to steer you through the house. “Brothers, we have a visitor,” he said when the two of you reached a library. Nik and Elijah’s heads snapped in your direction.

Nik stood in front of you in a flash. “Bloody hell, love. Can’t stay out of trouble for five minutes, can you?” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s good to see you at any rate. Come, Kol.” The hybrid strode from the room, dragging his protesting brother along with him.

A moment later, Elijah stood in front of you. Dark eyes stared at you as he lifted a hand to your neck. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he pulled the rag away to get a view of the damage. His hand clenched at his side and you flinched. He’d never hurt you, but it was rare to see him so angry. And you weren’t certain if he was angrier at the vampire that attacked you or you for being there.

His lips pursed as he stared at you a moment longer, then he bit into his wrist and offered it to you. You drank enough to heal then stepped back. He strode away to the far side of the room. Keeping his back to you, he hooked one hand around the back of his neck and rested the other on his hip. “What were you thinking coming here? Did I not make myself perfectly clear that you are not welcome here?”

“I missed you.” God, did that reasoning sound pathetic to you now. How had you ever thought that would be enough for him?

He was back in front of you in a flash. “You deliberately went against my wishes. You followed us here despite knowing I did not want you here and look what happened. Do I need to say anything else to prove my point that it is too dangerous for you to be near us?”

“This had nothing to do with you, Elijah. This was some random asshole vampire picking the wrong person to snack on. I killed him for it.” Frankly, you didn’t understand how he could go from being madly in love with you to not wanting you around overnight. “Everyone else wanted me to come. Didn’t you miss me at all?”

“How could I miss someone that cares nothing for their own wellbeing?” he stated quietly, making you flinch again. It would have been better for him to yell. At least then you’d know he was simply angry with you. His monotone delivery made you believe that he simply didn’t care. Tears instantly flooded your eyes. Why had you asked that question when you were so afraid of the answer? He stepped past you and stopped at the door. “You can stay the night. Tomorrow you leave New Orleans and you will not return,” he said in a low tone. Then he was gone.

You didn’t move as tears streamed down your face. Vaguely you were aware of Elijah and Nik yelling at each other elsewhere in the house, though you couldn’t make out the words. Then you were pulled into a firm chest as arms wrapped around you. “Elijah’s an idiot, darling,” Kol whispered to you.

When you just continued to cry without saying anything, he swept you up in his arms and carried you to one of the chairs. He sat and placed you on his lap. You leaned against his chest and he played with your hair in an attempt to calm you. “It will be all right, Y/N. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. You and I can get an apartment on the other side of town. We’ll put it in your name and you can tell Elijah to fuck off when he wants in.”

That pulled a laugh out of you though it sounded rather pathetic. “At least I know why it was so easy for him to leave now. I mean, what a bother I must have been. I always wondered what he saw in me and now I know. Nothing. God, you’d think it would be a relief to finally know, right? So why does it hurt so bad?”

“As angry as I am with my brother right now, Y/N, I don’t think—”

“No. It’s okay, Kol.” You sat up and wiped the tears from your cheeks. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore. Rebekah said him and the wolf seemed to be getting along. Maybe he’ll love her and it won’t be a lie.”

You stood and held up a hand to stop him when he moved to follow. “I’m not angry with you, Kol, but I need to figure out how to live without all of you. See, he told me he loved me and that he’d never leave me. That I’d never be alone again and he abandoned me at the first opportunity. And he took my family with him. And when I come back to all of you, he made it very clear that I am not wanted. I was prepared for him to be angry. I wasn’t prepared for him to not care.”

You paced the floor as you thought about your next step. Kol’s dark eyes followed you. He was at a loss at what to do, how to comfort you. He could beat the shit out of his brother but, while that might make him feel better, he doubted it would help you any. Suddenly, you snapped around to face him. “Compel me.”

His brows shot up. “What?”

“Compel me to forget. Just let me forget all of you.”

#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson x you #the originals fanfiction #vampire diaries fanfiction #celebration summer

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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 3 years ago

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Prominence [WCh. 2.28]

Social Media AU ; Idol AU ; Added Unit AU CW/TW: Language Genre: Comedy, Romance Pairing: NCT x Idol!Reader, Seonghwa x Reader, Yangyang x Reader; ft. NCThree (Mark and Yangyang) Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 3.6K

Notes: And it continues. Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading

February 16, 2022

You stumbled out of the dressing room, one shoe on and one sleeve of the letterman jacket hanging behind you as you grabbed your phone from Yangyang’s hand. Sure enough, Seonghwa’s contact was flashing on your phone. Your hands were practically shaking.

He really called you back. You didn’t think he’d remember it. He usually doesn't remember details like that when he's drunk. You looked down both ends of the hallway, seeing different staff members running about.

“Get in here,” you dragged Yangyang inside and shut the door behind you, the phone still ringing in your hand. “What do I do?”

“What do you mean what do you do?” Yangyang shook his head, eyes wide and confusion apparent. “Hang up?” He shrugs.

“I don’t want to do that, though.” You tucked your phone against your chest, the device vibrating against your heart. Yangyang only looked more confused.

“Then pick up?!”

“I don’t want to do that either!” You pulled your phone away and looked at the contact picture. Did you really want to do this now? Was now a good time to do this? Could you raincheck? Yeah, surely, you could.

“What do you mean you don’t want to do that either?! Do you want to talk to him or not?!”

“I don’t know!”

“What?!”

“What!”

“If you don’t answer it, I will.”

“What will you say?!”

“I’d tell him to man up and talk to you in person!”

“And what if he says no?!”

“Then you talk to him?”

“What will I say?”

“You know what? Give me your phone.”

“No!”

“Then answer the call before it-” the phone stops ringing and you and Yangyang stand in silence.

“Oh my god I didn’t answer! What if he thinks I hate him?! I don't hate him!”

“Then call him back!”

“What if that shows I’m too needy?! Should I wait a bit? How long? Oh god, is Saeron still in the building? I can't do this-”

“Oh my god,” Yangyang slides a hand down the side of his neck. Then the phone started ringing again. “Answer it!”

“Wait, wait, I have to think of what I’m going to say,” you move your phone away from Yangyang’s grasp.

“Just answer the phone!” He reaches for it and you slap his hand away.

“Okay, okay, I will! You leave first!” You point out the door.

“Don’t say anything weird.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t say something creepy like 'oh my god Seonghwa, my super hot and super sexy ex-boyfriend, let’s get back together and pretend nothing ever happened!'" He does an embarrassingly accurate impression of your voice and you nudge him harshly.

"I don’t sound like that! Now go!” You waved him away.

“You sound exactly like that!”

“No I don't! I wouldn’t even say that!”

“I have receipts, (Y/N).”

“Go!”

“Okay, okay!” Yangyang raises his hands up as you push him back outside. You take a deep breath, about to answer the call.

Until it stops ringing.

“Oh, fuck!” You shout. Your free hand dug through your hair while your other hand gripped the phone tightly.

“I told you to fucking answer it already!” Yangyang shouts from outside.

“Shut up, Yangyang, I was about to!” You shout back.

“Wait, who’s calling who now?!” Mark’s voice was added into the mix.

“Mark, wake up! Seonghwa’s calling!” Yangyang responds.

“Seonghwa?!” Jungwoo. Your hands fumble to call him back while those three had a conversation outside. One ring, two rings, three…

“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice was clear. He sounded different. His voice had more clarity to it, at least. You felt that undeniable warmth in your chest with your heart racing alongside with it, it was a feeling you missed and here it was again.

“Hi,” you said back. “Sorry, I left my phone in the other room so I missed your first call. And the second one… uh…”

“Figuring out what to say?” Ugh, why did he know you so well? You swallowed harshly and sat on the couch. It was almost embarrassing that he could read you so easily.

“Yeah…” You cleared your throat. “So, what’s up?” You balanced your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you laced up your other shoe.

“Is now a bad time?” He asks. “I can call you back later.” You shot back up again, throwing the door open and ready to ask Jia what the time was but, through the open door of the stylist's room, she just held up five fingers with one hand and a thumbs up with another. The other stylists were peeking past the door frame and, when they made eye contact with you, they quickly dispersed.

"Don't fuck it up, (Y/N)," Yangyang whispers and Mark shoves his shoulder, oblivious to the hushed laughs that left Yangyang's mouth.

"Communication!" Mark whispers over Yangyang's controlled laughter. You nodded your head and shut the door again.

“Oh, no, no it’s fine,” you said. “I have a bit to talk before I go on stage. I’m at Music Core right now,” you answer.

“I see, I'll try to make this quick then," Seonghwa sighed on the other line and, of fucking course, your heart erupted into butterflies. It was something you had missed so dearly since last December. "It’s just… You said to call you back so... here I am."

"Are you getting ready to leave?"

"In a couple more days. But..." He hesitates, humming instead. He's thinking of something, you know. He always makes that sound when he does. Then, finally, he spoke again. "We should meet in person. When I come back. I don't want to talk about it over the phone."

"I understand. It seems like the root of all our problems start with phone calls, huh?" You added with a joking tone. But really, it wasn't a joke at all.

"They do. And I want to fix that, if you're willing to hear me out."

"Of course I am, all I've ever wanted was to hear from you... despite the incident at the dorms..." your voice wavered. Don't cry. You just had your makeup done. Don't cry.

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I caught you off guard that day and barged in without thinking. Don't beat yourself up about it."

"I'm surprised Johnny didn't punch you..."

"Me too."

"So... when do you come back?" You traced your foot along the tiled ground, waiting for his response.

"This weekend. Saturday."

"Oh..." You had plans that day. That was the day Daniel had told you he and the others were all free. "I'm sorry, I have plans..."

"Schedule?"

"No, I'm meeting with my uni friends."

"After everything that happened?" You didn't miss the tone of concern.

"I have to apologize."

"You did nothing wrong." He wasn't wrong, per se. But he wasn't right either.

"But I did, I made so many presumptions and it just isn't fair for them, the only one that was at fault was..."

"Juliet."

"Juliet. Whatever happened to her?"

"I got a restraining order on her, you?"

"The company handled it."

"I'm glad then..." You wanted to ask if he knew if she deleted them, the recordings, the blackmail. But you didn't want to ask him this way. You wanted to ask him in person, face to face, and in a place where you could be genuine with him. "I should let you go." For some reason, those words seemed to tug on your heart heavily. You knew he probably meant it in the way that he should let you get back to schedules but, for whatever reason, you wanted him to stay on the phone longer. You took a deep breath.

"You can stay on the line longer." You pulled the phone away from your ear. It has been six minutes.

"I don't want you to get in trouble, Sunday, then. I'll text you."

"Sunday it is. I'll see you then."

"Take care of yourself, lo... (Y/N)," he corrects himself quickly and you move the mic away from your mouth, a pitiful sound threatening to escape. When was the last time you both had called each other like this? You hang up the phone and lean forward, shrugging the other arm of the jacket on. Quickly, you lean back on the couch, tears threatening to roll down your face then there was a knock at the door. You took a deep breath before opening it. Yangyang leaned against the doorway and Mark held onto the frame as he stood next to him.

"How'd it go?" Yangyang asks. You now noticed Jungwoo peeking behind them. You just nodded your head and Mark pulls out a small packet of tissues and handed them to you.

"Thanks," you lightly dabbed your eye, trying your best not to smudge your makeup. "It went well... we're meeting in person."

"Yes!" Mark releases the doorframe and stumbles back, pumping a fist in the air.

"Fucking finally!" Yangyang's shoulders relax.

"I'm so glad!" Jungwoo claps his hands together. "You're both so close to reconciliation again, it warms my heart so much," Jungwoo clutches his heart.

"Aww, guys..." you smiled weakly. "Thanks, I'm sorry for dragging you all into this."

"We dragged ourselves into this, thank you very much," Yangyang scoffs. "I swear, one day we're going to end up in jail with you."

"He's right. We were ready to fight all of ATEEZ, you know," Mark crosses his arms.

"We probably would've lost," Yangyang adds.

"San could just glare at me and I'd fold backward," Mark admits.

"It's okay, me too," you admitted. Jungwoo choked on his spit and Yangyang gasps. "What? Am I wrong?"

"You're not, you scallywag!" Jungwoo jaw was on the floor.

"(Y/N) your inability to not swoon over everyone is what got you here!" Mark says.

"In my defense, Seonghwa and I swooned together it was a couple-bonding thing!" You argued.

"That is so weird!" Mark's shoulders tensed.

"You've never been in a relationship before so you wouldn't get it!" You continued.

"But-"

"NCThree to the soundstage!" A voice echoes down the hall. You look at the time.

"Oh shit, we're late!" You shout. "You guys head over, I have to do quick retouches," you pushed past them and into the stylist's room.

"Wait, we can't leave her with Red," Yangyang says.

"Who's Red?" Mark's brows scrunched.

"Kyungjae," Yangyang mutters, looking over his shoulder to be sure no one was listening.

"Why are we calling him Red?" Mark matches his voice.

"We can't talk about him right in front of him."

"Well, yeah, but why Red?"

"Red for red flags."

"Oh! Oh!" Mark laughs. "That's a good one."

"I know, right? Wait, shit, someone go in with her," Yangyang shakes his head.

"I've got it, I've got it," Jungwoo squeezes their shoulders. "Head over to the stage, I'll make sure no funny business happens."

"Thanks, man, you're the best," Mark smiles and he and Yangyang head off, but not before looking back to make sure you were okay.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)-ie, (Y/N)-itty, (Y/N)!" Jungwoo practically sings your name as he enters. You pull away from Kyungjae's hand before he fixes your eyeliner.

"What's up, Jungwoo?" You look up at him through the mirror. Jungwoo places his hands on your shoulders and shakes you lightly, not enough to disturb Kyungjae but enough so you know he's there.

"Oh, please, don't let me get in the way," he says to Kyungjae. The stylist just nods as he gets back to work, tilting your chin upward to apply your makeup. "Sungchanie texted me!" He squeezes your shoulders.

"What did he say?"

"He said: Hyung! Hyung, please watch Mouse for me! I think she's overworking herself again!" Jungwoo pitches his voice up to imitate Sungchan. "So, I'm here to give you one of my signature Jungwoo-Massages."

"Wait, hold on a second, Jungwoo," your hands quickly flew to his, squeezing them tightly and pulling them off. You knew very well what these signature massages of his felt like and you'd rather not act that way in front of Kyungjae. It's not that it hurt, no, not at all. Let's just say if being an idol doesn't work out for Jungwoo then he could easily make up for it as a masseur.

You didn't need that embarrassment right now.

"Oh? Not now? Okay, maybe later then," Jungwoo settles with just lightly kneading the knots instead. "Wow! You are tense, (Y/N). Pent-up rage? Frustration?"

"Something like that," you sighed, feeling your shoulders relax. But you caught yourself quickly, mostly because Kyungjae's hand slipped, drawing a large line across the side of your face with the eyeliner.

"Shoot, sorry, I'm so sorry," Kyungjae, reaches for makeup remover.

"No, no, it's fine! Mistakes happen! Jungwoo, I know you mean well, but can we please do this later?" You ask him. Kyungjae, meanwhile, tries to correct his mistake.

"Do you not want me around, (Y/N)?" Jungwoo's voice drops.

"No! That's not it at all! I love having you around, Jungwoo, it's just that I kind of have to get in the mindset right now, you know?" You continued to look at him through the mirror.

"But... Sungchan sounded so worried," Jungwoo turns on the pleading eyes and you knew you couldn't fight him. Sungchan was prone to over-worrying, you knew that well and so did Jungwoo. He was doing this with good intentions, you knew.

"Alright, call up Sungchan and put him on speaker, I don't want him to get caught up thinking about me all day." Kyungjae turns your head a little roughly, but you decide not to bring it up. He's probably embarrassed or a little upset at the mistake but, from what you could see, it didn't look that bad.

"Mind if I use your phone, (Y/N)?" Jungwoo asks. "Left mine in the breakroom."

"All good," you handed it to him, the phone automatically unlocking as you did so.

"What's his name under?"

"Should just be Sungchan with a cheese emoji."

"Cheese?" Jungwoo's tongue pokes between his lips. "Sounds good right now..."

"It's part of the whole 'Mouse' joke," you mumbled. Kyungjae shakes the lipgloss in his hands and you nod, no more talking for a bit. In two quick swipes, he was done, and just in time for Sungchan to pick up.

"Mouse!"

"Hi, Sungchan!" Jungwoo hands you the phone and you hold it to your ear.

"Are you doing okay? You didn't look too good when we filmed for Inkigayo, so I just wanted to check in on you. Don't stress out too much, okay? You're doing your best and that's what counts. Don't forget to drink water! Did Jungwoo get my message?"

"He did, don't worry, I'll redeem my ticket later though, I have to go now, okay? I'm taking care of myself, so don't worry, you have schedules too, so you focus on those and, hey, maybe we can get dinner later," your eyes shift to Kyungjae quickly. Shit, you forgot that you told him you were busy. Think, (Y/N). "You'll be coming with Mark and Yangyang, though."

"Oh, I'll think about it, Mouse, thank you for offering though, I'll talk to you later!" Sungchan was the one to hang up.

"Mouse?" Kyungjae mumbles.

"Long story," you respond.

"Jungwoo! We've been looking all over for you, man!" Lee Know sticks his head in the room and, immediately, a light pink dusts his cheeks when he sees you. "Uh... ahem, sorry, we need to film the opening of the episode," he speaks in a quiter manner.

"Can... can it wait?" Jungwoo whispers.

"No...?" Lee Know shook his head. Jungwoo clicked his tongue, looking over to you and Kyungjae before sighing. Before anyone could note it, he smiles again.

"Alright! Let's go! (Y/N), good luck on your stage!"

"Thanks, Jungwoo! I'll see you at the interview," you waved your hand and he was gone.

"Oops," Kyungjae drops the compact on your lap and quickly picks it up. "Sorry," he mumbles. He dusts the powder off of your tights.

"I got it, I got it," you used one of the tissues to clean it up, trying to not allow the powder to clump between the sheer threads. "I'm sorry, Jungwoo can be kind of overwhelming when you're not used to him," you say.

"It's nothing I'm not used to, I interned at HYBE if it means anything, well, I guess they were Big Hit at the time," Kyungjae explains. He leans back to study your makeup. "You should be done now," Kyungjae says. "Oh! Wait, let me fix your hair too," he says and he steps behind you, holding it gently. "Did you run your hand through it?"

"Maybe..." you averted your gaze away from him and he chuckles.

"Don't worry about it, I'll just fix a few of the pins for you and you'll be done," he does so, taking out the pins with such precision and replacing them as if you hadn't mussed through them in the first place. As he did so, you didn't ignore the way your phone vibrated in your hand. You turned it over, reading the message's preview.

'Thank you' Was all the message from Seonghwa read. You typed out a quick 'I can't wait to see you' then, before you sent it, you caught yourself. You deleted the message and replaced it with a simple 'Of course :)' and sent that instead. It was the start of a new chapter, surely, and one you were excited to enter. Finally, you can talk things through thoroughly, and hopefully, maybe, you'll be together once again. But, if not, then that's fine too. You'd rather become friends then to lose him forever.

Plus, you had to return his cardigan.

And Mars misses his dad.

"And all done," Kyungjae speaks up. You look to the mirror once again, moving your head slowly to see his work. "Beautiful as always," he smiles softly and you felt that strange heat in your face.

"Ah... Looks great! Thanks, sorry for messing it up," you smiled, trying to wave the feeling off. He was always so flirty when it was just him, you wondered where his confidence came from. You nodded your head towards him. "Shall we head to the stage then?"

"We? Both of us?" He pointed to his chest.

"Yeah? Unless you have somewhere to be?" You blinked once, his head must be in the clouds.

"Oh! Right, right, yes! Let's head over," he grabs his satchel from the counter and holds the door open for you. The walk was quick enough, just down the hall and to your right then boom, the stage. You spotted Mark and Yangyang almost immediately, the two were deep into some conversation you'd grill them about later.

"Mark! Yangyang!" You called their names and the two separated, waving at you from their spot. "Thanks again, Kyungjae! I'll head over to those two," you wave before walking off.

“You’re doing great, (Y/N)!” Kyungjae shoots you two thumbs up and you smile in response, jogging to catch up with the other two. Yangyang puts his hand on your shoulder and you turn to him.

“Dude. Kyungjae wants to ask you out,” Yangyang whispers, his face flat and his eyes concerned.

“No way!” You shook your head.

“Yes way! Just look at him!” Yangyang turned you towards the stylist, who as soon as you did so turned around.

“Aw, come on, I don’t know about that,” you shook your head. “Plus… I just broke up with Seonghwa and…”

“Yeah, like two months ago. I'm just saying, people are weird when they find out the people they like are single.”

“Weird? Like you?" You lightly jabbed his side and Yangyang groaned.

"Yes, but also no. I am doing a fantastic job of getting over you, that guy knows no boundaries," Yangyang hurriedly whispers, being sure to side-eye Kyungjae as he did so, and this glare was second only to Mark's. You had never seen them look this way, not even when they first met Seonghwa, in fact, they clicked with him rather quickly. Or, at least, Yangyang looked like he did.

“Yangyang, we need you over here!” The PD called, pointing to a spot on the stage.

"We need to focus now, guys," Mark breaks his glare and returns to you and Yangyang.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later, Schnappi,” you playfully pushed him and he laughed.

“Don’t screw up your shoots, cupcake,” he smiles. You stopped in your tracks and turned on your heels.

“Ew, no, I dropped a cupcake once!” You immediately thought back to Inkigayo when you reached for a cupcake gifted to the group by Sungchan. Either way, you dropped yours on your lap, effectively ruining your outfit and leading to a quick wardrobe change that really just consisted of removing your godsent sheer tights.

It was a very cold stage. Whenever you weren't moving you were chattering. Lesson learned, don't eat when you're wearing styled outfits.

"Try again, Schnappi, a natural nickname will come eventually," you laughed.

“Not that one? Okay, I’ll try other ones,” Yangyang sighs. "I was really confident about that one too."

"Don't think it could be more natural than Sungchan's 'Mouse' though, good luck finding one, Yangyang," Mark chuckles.

"I'll figure it out," Yangyang smiles. "I just want to join the 'I Have a Cool Nickname for (Y/N) club'."

"And you'll join it soon, just keep throwing some at me until one sticks," you started making your way to your marker.

"Gotcha, gotcha, keep an open mind about it though!" He waves goodbye while he walks to the other side of the studio, but not before he ran into Kyungjae, spilling water all over his outfit. You didn't miss the small smirk that rose on Mark's face, something he hid with a fake sneeze as he walked to his stage marker. What was up with these two? As far as you knew, Kyungjae was just a new coworker but... you'd be a fool to ignore Mark's vibe check. “Shit, sorry, you good?” Yangyang apologized, but you knew that tone. You knew well enough then to ignore Yangyang's vibe check too.

“Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Kyungjae runs off as soon as Jia called him over. Yangyang turns back to you and you just offer him a sympathetic look while shrugging and he rolls his eyes while shaking his head.

They knew something you didn't. And you'll have to get to the bottom of it soon.

General Tag List: @vickylamore @chxngyunie @sehunnies-hunnie96 @yangsrose @bat-shark-repellant @cloudreads @raeincitizen @here-aeth @lune1897 @gaiyofanfiction @jaeminsespresso @umbralhelwolf @morningsunandnightsky

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littlemissnoname13 · 4 years ago

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Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader) - Part 5

Summary: y/n and Draco find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every night

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader ft. Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini

Warnings: Excessive smoking, mature language and themes, smut labeled as ⚜️, 18+ content, reader discretion is advised, also Draco is kinda soft in this one. Just sayin.

A/n: Ik this was supposed to be the final part but I wanted to wrap things up properly. The last part will be dedicated to the ball itself.

A massive thank you to everyone that has read WOS. Your feedback makes me so fkn happy. I love you all sm.

Word count: 3700

Link to Part one, two, three, and four if you haven’t read them already.

My other stories are over here. And you can join my tag list here.

As always, Smoking is injurious to health y’all.

24th December

Home was just the way you’d remembered it.

From the Goldchild Ivy covering the white colored walls and the stepping stones leading all the way to the main entrance to the way your parents kept nagging you about your “future” with Adrian Pucey.

“You still haven’t told me what kind of dress you’d like to wear to the ball.” Your mum reminded you after taking a small sip from her wine glass.

“I don’t know mother.” You sighed,stabbing repeatedly at the sautéed mushroom on your plate. “Can’t I wear something I already own? Like the blue one I wore last year.”

“Well, what is Adrian wearing? May I suggest some colour coordinating?”

“I really don’t know mother.” You coughed.

“Well, why don't you ask him?”

“I can't.” You mumbled dropping your fork on your plate. The loud clanging sound earned you an eyebrow raise from your otherwise quiet father.

“Why not?”

“We broke—we aren’t seeing each other anymore.” You said quietly before quickly standing up and dismissing yourself from the dining table before your parents could ask you a thousand questions.

As you walked away from the table and towards the balcony, you could still hear your parents calling after you while simultaneously speculating about just what you may have done to scare Adrian away.

You weren’t going to tell them about Draco because you weren’t even sure what to tell them.

I broke up with Adrian because I’m sleeping with Draco Malfoy.

Yes, the one that is getting engaged soon.

No we’re not together.

I may or may not have developed feelings for him.

Yes, it is inconvenient because I have no idea how he feels.

Did I mention he is getting engaged?

You tugged on the sleeves of your sweater to warm your hands up as you stared up at the surprisingly clear night sky splattered with only a few clouds and shimmering stars.

You took it upon yourself to start counting the stars to distract yourself from thinking about Draco again.

Unbeknownst to you, Draco was standing on the balcony of his room trying not to think of you too.

The only difference for him was that the sky was a little less cloudy where he lived and he wasn’t going to bother counting stars.

“Happy Christmas Draco.” You whispered to yourself,staring at the shiny emerald ring on your finger.

“Happy Christmas Y/n.” Draco mumbled into the night air as he fidgeted with your amethyst ring.

~~~~~~~~~~

25th December

It was a surprisingly quiet Christmas Morning at the Y/l/n household.

Your parents were still fast asleep when you walked towards the kitchen to fix yourself a cup of coffee.

It was probably because your parents hadn’t quite processed your break up with Adrian and had spent their night discussing it.

Seeing it was Christmas, you decided to put a dash of white chocolate and whipped cream in your cup of caffeinated goodness in order to feel a bit more festive.

You were feeling anything but festive.

There was a kind of dread crushing your insides when you thought about the ball.

You’d have to watch him dance with her and kiss her lips at midnight.

Fuck, you’d have to congratulate him after he slipped a ring onto her perfectly manicured finger.

Just when you were about to take a sip of your drink, you heard a knock on your door.

You frowned and walked towards the door because it was way too early on in the morning for anyone to come over.

When you yanked the door open, you saw him of all people, standing on the other side of the door with his white blond hair messier than usual.

He was wearing one of his rare genuine smiles that showed his pearly whites making you feel wobbly in the knees.

“Draco—What are you doing here?”

“Happy Christmas to you too.” He said with the smile still fixed on his lips. “Tell me y/l/n is this how you greet all of your houseguests?”

“How rude of me.” You muttered to yourself still befuddled as you stepped back to let him in. “Come in, sit down. Cup of tea?”

“I’m actually in a bit of a hurry.” He said as he fidgeted with his blazer pocket. “Just came to drop off something—ugh hold this.”

He placed a pack of cigarettes in the palm of your hand before fumbling with his pocket again.

“Ahh. There we go.” He retrieved a lilac colored box from his pocket and brought it back to its normal size before handing it to you.

“What’s this?”

“What does it look like y/n?”

“But—But I haven't even gotten you anythi—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, tenderly pressing lips against yours.

The softness of his lips made the heaviness you were feeling on your shoulders fade away as you faded into him—only him and the way he held you firmly around the waist as he suckled on your bottom lip.

“Thank you.” You whispered burying your face into his chest, trying to inhale a scent of his cologne. “Thank you.”

When Draco left, you ran up to your room and opened the lilac box to find a blush coloured slip dress folded neatly with a note on top of it written in his neat handwriting.

~~~~

Dear Y/n

I really am sorry about what happened to your old silk dress but I just couldn’t help myself.

I hope you’ll understand.

I also hope I get to see you wear this one someday.

Yours,

D.L.M

~~~~~~~~~~~

26 December

The day after Christmas, the boys decided to do a little cleanup.

Quidditch and house memorabilia, novelty artefacts they no longer cared enough for and items of emotional value.

The boys wanted a fresh start.

A clean break.

A clean slate.

Theo and Blaise were done with their cleaning so they were now at the Manor helping Draco who was surprisingly not very convinced about the whole “fresh start” ordeal.

“Remember this?” Theo chuckled, clearing out all the books that covered Draco’s desk and using his wand to cast a quick spell that revealed carvings they’d made the summer before their second year.

“Oh?” Blaise gleefully raised his eyebrows walking towards Theo. “I’d forgotten about this.”

Draco rolled his eyes and followed Blaise and the three boys stood around the table reading out everything they’d managed to carve out.

There were some very unholy words, tally sticks and unfortunate looking doodles of Harry on the table.

“Theodore Nott was here.” Draco read out loud looking unimpressed.

“Read this one.” Theo chuckled pointing at a carving. “Daphne Greengrass + Blaise Zabini.”

“Hey! We were barely second years.” Blaise protested while his eyes kept scanning the table.

As Blaise’s vigilant eyes trailed to the farthest corner of the table, a wicked grin started to form across his cheeks making Draco’s face turn pale.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Blaise read out loud smirking at Draco. “Well well Malfoy—From the second year?...Interesting.”

“It was always obvious even though he expressed himself in questionable ways.” Theo shrugged.

“What was obvious?” Draco quirked an eyebrow with a scowl on his face.

“The fact that you were and are absolutely enamoured with y/n.” Theo rolled his eyes. “It has always been obvious to everyone but you. Back me up here Zabini.”

Draco crossed his arms and looked at Blaise who just gave him an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry but he’s right mate.”

“I am not enamoured with y/n.”

“If you say so.” Blaise shrugged.

“And what if I were?” Draco spat, clearly irked by the condescending look on Blaise’s face.

“If you are, then I only have one question for you.” Blaise said with carefully selected words.

“And the question is?”

Blaise went quiet for a brief second before looking at Draco, dead set in the eye.

“What is holding you back, Malfoy?”

~~~~~~~~~~

27th December

Draco wondered what life decisions he’d taken to find himself seated at a murky little pub with Astoria reclining against his shoulders—sipping on Butterbeer.

Pansy, Theo and Blaise were taking shots next to him and you were awkwardly seated right across the table next to Adrian fucking Pucey.

What was he doing here anyway? Who even invited him?

Even though he’d overheard you telling Pansy that Adrian was there only because of your parents nagging you, seeing you seated together bothered him nonetheless.

Draco wasn’t even meaning to eavesdrop on your conversation with Adrian but he just couldn’t help but divert all his attention to your sweet voice and the way your lips moved.

You were telling Adrian about the sweet shop next door and Draco’s lips involuntarily twitched and curved upwards when he noticed just how excited you were about sweets.

It was like you softened him—made him vulnerable. And the whole feeling terrified him.

Between smoking his fifth cigarette, occasionally chatting with Astoria and looking at you from the corner of his eye, one rather simple thought encircled Draco’s mind.

Why didn’t he knock Pucey off his broom when he had the chance to?

~~~~~~~~~

28th December

Lightning crashed. Thunder clapped.

Fat drops of rain started to fall on the enormous glass window in Draco’s bedroom.

You placed your finger on the glass as you watched the infinite droplets race all the way to the bottom of the window.

The howling winds brought in the scent of wet grass and sent the dark curtains flying in all different directions.

You took in the smell of fresh rain and sighed sinking blissfully into his embrace.

Lucius and Narcissa were away, preparing for the upcoming ball and Draco had owled you asking to meet.

And so, both of you were now sitting on the windowsill in his room that was much larger than the one in the abandoned classroom.

In fact, it was so spacious that it served as his own personal reading nook—complete with a velvety throw blanket and some cushions.

His hands held open a book and you let yourself get comfortable between his long limbs, still counting raindrops on the window.

“What are you doing?” He asked looking towards you and away from the worn out pages of his book.

“I’m watching the raindrops race each other.” You said with your eyes still fixed on the glass. “infinite little droplets.”

“It's just rain.” He shrugged as his eyes went back to his book. “Quite mundane if you ask me.”

Sure rain was mundane.

But this rain felt different. It sent you into a state of melancholia.

You couldn’t dare to tell him but those infinite droplets resembled the amount of times you’d wanted to tell him that you loved him.

Even though you couldn’t find the courage to tell him, it was like the look in your eyes gave it all away.

It made his features soften as he slowly shifted and got up from the nook to fully open the window.

You shielded yourself as cold drops of rain started to hit your face. “What in the actual fuck?”

“Shut up and follow me.” He said as he climbed out of the window and onto the ledge.

“Are you mental?”

“Just do as I say.” He said helping you onto the ledge.

Both of you laughed hysterically as the rain seeped through your clothes as you sat on the ledge with your bare feet dangling in the air.

One wrong move and both of you could fall to our deaths. But there came an adrenaline rush with the risk of it all.

He pushed away the hair sticking to your face and brought your face close to his before pressing his rain soaked lips to yours.

Theo was right.

He was fucking enamoured.

~~~~~~⚜️~~~~~~~~

After coming back inside, you walked into his ensuite to fix your ruined hair and cast a quick drying charm to your clothes before heading home.

You had barely managed to pick at the tangles in your wet hair when an equally soaked Draco walked up behind you—clothes sticking to his toned body and hair sticking to his face.

“Draco. Sorry for hogging the mirror. I thought I’d be done sooner but these tangles are—hmmm.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you and pressed his cold lips against the base of your neck.

Even though your hair was entangled and unruly, you looked bewitching to him.

Especially the way the thin and drenched fabric of your seafoam colored dress draped your body—transparent and accentuating all your curves.

He just couldn’t help himself from unzipping your dress while he admired the sight of your dress slowly leaving your body in the mirror in front of you both.

“Draco?” You whispered as you watched his lips move their way from your neck to your shoulders. His hands gently gripping and massaging your breasts.

“Yes?” He whispered into your hair as he began nipping on your earlobe—his hands never leaving your breasts.

You wanted to tell him that you were in love with him but the words just refused to leave your lips.

“I—I missed you so much.” You said instead as you watched the corners of his mouth twitch.

He didn’t say a word back.

Hips lips were too occupied with sucking love bites against your skin.

He didn’t need to tell you that he missed you too. The deep reddish purple markings on your body said it all.

Draco intertwined his fingers around yours and placed your palms flat against the marble basin in front of you.

Your dainty fingers brought out the verdant tones of the emerald ring and Draco couldn’t help but admire his family heirloom on you.

He slowly moved his hands up your arms and let them brush against your bare back—trailing lower and lower till he was barely touching your soaking wet cunt.

“You like it when I touch you here?” He murmured pushing one of his fingers inside for a fleeting second.

“Hmmm.” You moaned gripping tightly onto the basin and pushing your hips backwards to get more.

Draco brought his hand to your arse and struck once causing you to hiss through your teeth.

“Words darling—use your words.”

“Yes….” You whimpered, opening your eyes to stare into the reflection again. There was a kind of unrestrained hunger in his eyes that only made you want him more.

“Good girl...so fucking perfect..so beautiful.”

He reached out and wrapped his left hand around your throat and brought your face close to him while the pad of his right thumb rubbed steady circles on your throbbing clit.

He loved that you were always so wet and ready for him.

“Draco..I want you inside me..Please..”

He could have spent hours on end just teasing you with his fingers and tongue if he could. There was just something about you that just made him want to take his time to worship you—to ruin you.

But time was not on his side and the reflection in front of him was making him increasingly impatient so he did not tease you any further. He simply unbuckled his trousers and pushed his cock where it belonged.

“Fuck...yes Draco..”

A whimper let your lips at the sudden push and your knuckles turned pale as you gripped tightly onto the marble basin.

“Look at you…” He murmured against your shoulder as he stared ahead into the mirror—his cock pounding in and out of you. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.”

He let go of your throat and used his hands to hold your hips firmly in place as he fucked you mercilessly.

Every time you two had fucked before this, Draco had constantly reminded himself to be a little gentle with you—but today, he wanted to wreck you.

He wanted you to scream his name in a bittersweet mix of pure pleasure and pain as he fucked you relentlessly.

“More...Draco...oh..fuck…yes.”

Beads of tears started to slip out of your eyes and you started to squirm—clenching him inside of you as your started to feel your orgasm approach.

“Don’t.” He growled digging his nails into the flesh at your hips. “Don’t fucking come just yet.”

You winced when he slipped himself out before carrying you back to his room where he sat down at the edge of the bed—positioning you on his lap with your legs on either side as he slipped back into you.

Draco let you adjust to the new position for a few seconds as you gripped his shoulders as you moved your hips, slowly riding his cock.

“My perfect little slut.” He sighed cupping your face in his hands as you continued to move against him.

After letting you ride him for a little longer, he gripped your hips and started to pound into you making your tits bounce up and down.

“Feels so good Draco—feels so fucking good. Oh god yes.”

With one hand on your arse and his mouth attached to your nipple Draco kept thrusting into you till the room was filled with the sound of your screams mixed with the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the sound rain splattering against the window glass.

“Fuck y/n...your cunt is so perfect, you take me so fucking good..god.”

“Harder…”

“So good when you clench me in like that... fuck y/n..I need to fucking fill you up…”

“Draco please..don’t fucking stop...oh..I’m so close..”

You always submitted to him so easily, he enjoyed the control he had over you.

But your sweet moans, the way your lips moved when you sighed his name was enough to make him weak for you.

You were completely oblivious to the power you held over him.

He loved you.

And he wanted to say the words out loud over and over again.

“I love—I love being inside you..I have missed you so much” He said instead.

“Draco I’m—I’m fucking cumming.” You whined as he continued to move his hips.

“Let go. Fucking cum y/n. Cum with me.”

You let your head fall against his shoulders and dug your nails into his biceps as you succumbed to your orgasm.

He soon followed, painting your walls with his release as he murmured sweet nothings into your skin.

You held each other close as you both recovered from your highs and and when he eventually fell asleep you whispered into his ear.

I’ll be thinking of you too Malfoy.

~~~~~~~~~

29th December

Once glimpse of the calendar and all the feelings you had shoved into a deep dark part of your mind trickled out in the form of tears.

Silent tears.

The kind of tears you cry when the silence of the night gets unbearable.

The kind where you suppress the sound of your wail and hopelessly try and mute any kind of sniffle by pressing your face hard into the pillow because you don’t want to wake anyone up.

Silent tears are the most painful of tears when mixed with the sound of the clock ticking.

For some bizarre reason, every second gets more prolonged than the other.

You had tried to hold it together for days. You tried to pretend like Draco’s engagement didn’t bother you.

But it did.

You turned your head on your very damp pillow and eyed the pack of smokes on your night stand. Draco had left when he came to drop off your present.

On an impulse, You stepped out of your bed as your trembling fingers reached for the 25 pack of expensive looking cigarettes.

The second you opened the box, the slight scent of nicotine wafted up your nose and you slowly placed a cigarette at the corner of your chapped and dry lips and lit it up.

Like always, you coughed and wheezed the second you inhaled.

You hated how it felt.

But you loved how close you suddenly felt to Draco.

In a twisted kind of way, It felt like you were submerged in his presence again.

Your lips tasted like they had been kissed by him again.

The more you inhaled the better it felt.

In a fucked up kind of way, The word felt right again.

And slowly, the night faded into morning as one cigarette turned into another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

30th December

Pansy had flooed to your hour the minute she received a letter last night in your drunken handwriting talking about how amazing cigarettes were and how pretty Astoria was.

With a mug filled to the brim with tea in between her hands, she rested her back against the armchair in your room, tilting her head to get a better look at you.

Your face was pressed sideways against the pillow and she could tell you’d been crying by the dried mascara stains on your cheeks.

A half smoked cigarette was pressed into the makeshift ashtray that you’d made out of your bedside table making Pansy wonder if she’d ever seen you this miserable.

Your duvet was barely covering your shoulders and just as Pansy was standing up to pull them up, your bedroom door creaked open.

“I just wanted to drop something off.” Draco mumbled almost like he was talking to himself as he took a step into the room—hand in his blazer pocket.

Pansy didn't say a word as she watched Draco with her eyes narrowed. She observantly watched him pull out a tiny box from his pocket and mumble a spell to restore it to its original size.

“What are those?”

“Assorted sweets.” He said softly, with his gaze not leaving your sleeping form once. “She wouldn’t stop talking about exploding bonbons the other night at the pub.”

Pansy heaved out a sigh as she watched Draco place the box of sweets on your bedside table before reaching to gently push away your hair from your face.

“Don’t get me wrong Draco, but you really shouldn’t be here right now.”

His weary eyes flickered as he turned to look questioningly at Pansy—retreating his hand from your face.

“You are getting engaged tomorrow—look at her, look at the state she is in. She won’t say it out loud but It’s clearly killing her.”

As much as Draco hated agreeing with Pansy, she was right.

Even while asleep, you looked worn out and restless with your eyebrows scrunched up indicating tension.

He wasn’t even going to get himself started on the cigarettes and wine bottles on your night stand.

“Will you let her know that I came by?” He looked half expectantly at Pansy who gave him an apologetic smile in return. “Never mind I guess.”

As Draco reluctantly backed away from you, Blaise’s words lingered in his mind.

What is holding you back Malfoy?

(To be continued...)

~~~~~~

Part 6: Final Chapter Preview:

The Malfoy Manor was being decorated and every little detail of the decor screamed nothing but aristocratic, pristine, perfect.

It was like everything was just a futile attempt to conceal the dullness, loneliness and the fucked up pure blood traditions hiding deep within the manor walls.

Much like his so-called arrangement with Astoria that seemed so perfect on paper.

Pure blood families, rich family history, old money.

What could go wrong right?..

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#harry potter #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco smut #draco x reader smut #draco x slytherin!reader

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years ago

Note

Hey, I love your writing! How about "please talk to me" or "why don't you care?" with Obi-Wan and Anakin for the prompts?

Ahhh thank you so much!!! You're too sweet!

"Please talk to me" and "why don't you care" from these angst prompts. Note: I'm not going to close my inbox, but I'm going to be traveling for a few weeks so if you send me a request, I won't be able to get to it for a while. Plus, there are still quite a few prompts in my inbox I'm working on.

Anyway, here ya go!

---

Anakin hated it when Obi-Wan got like this.

Quiet.

He was never quiet, save in sleep or meditation — two thing he hadn’t been partaking in as much anymore. Any other time, he always had some observation or quippy remark to make. But not now. Now, he sat silently at the kitchen table, staring at his tea, lost in one thought or another.

Anakin knew that when Obi-Wan got quiet, something was wrong. Not that his stubborn old Master would ever express that outwardly. It drove Anakin mad.

Anakin slid into the chair across from Obi-Wan. “They’re going to ship us out again soon,” Anakin started.

Obi-Wan hummed.

“It feels like we just got back home.”

“I suppose it does.”

Anakin frowned. His attempts at conversation were not going well.

“Is something bothering you?” Anakin asked.

“It’s fine, Anakin.”

Anakin could feel frustration swelling up in his chest. What was bothering Obi-Wan? Was it something he did? Surely Obi-Wan would have told him if he did something to upset him. He had had no problem doing that in the past, but now… now tensions between them had become more taught. Anakin wasn’t sure if he was the problem.

“Are you mad at me?” Anakin asked tentatively, feeling like a youngling at the question.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Just drop it, Anakin.”

“Please,” Anakin said. “Just talk to me, Obi-Wan. You know you can talk to me.”

“I am talking to you,” Obi-Wan said, lifting his gaze from the steaming mug in his hand to Anakin.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?” Obi-Wan relented.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

“You can believe whatever you want to believe Anakin.”

“I believe something is wrong.”

“And you are free to do so.”

Anakin huffed. “Stop avoiding the question.”

“Stop asking,” Obi-Wan challenged.

Obi-Wan sipped at his tea and remained passive — the mask of indifference proving to Anakin that he felt anything but. Anakin’s pulse quickened and he felt heat crawling up his neck, reddening his skin.

“Stop trivializing this, Obi-Wan!” Anakin snapped.

“I’m not trivializing anything. There’s nothing to trivialize!”

“Force, why can’t you even pretend like you care about something for once? Do you just not care about anything? Is that it?”

Obi-Wan looked like he had been slapped across the face.

It was in that moment that Anakin realized that maybe he had gone too far this time – pushed a little too hard in an attempt to get a rise out of him.

“How could you say that? How could you think that of me?” Obi-Wan’s voice was low, almost threatening.

“Master I-”

“You presume that I do not feel things because I do not react the way you do to every tragedy that befalls me? You think I am but an emotionless droid wandering around the galaxy? You believe I feel nothing after… after everything? Do you truly believe this?”

“No, Master, I don’t believe that. I didn’t mean–”

Obi-Wan raised his hands. “Stop Anakin. I don’t want to hear it right now. I’m going to bed. You should too.”

Obi-Wan promptly stood up and retreated to his room without even a parting glance Anakin’s way.

Anakin would not be going to bed. At least not here. Why stay in a cramped apartment with his broody former Master when there was a senatorial apartment with a warm bed and someone who was definitely not broody lying in it?

“I’m headed to your place,” Anakin said into his comm.

“I thought you were staying at the temple tonight, Ani?” Padme replied.

“I changed my mind. I’d rather stay with you.”

“Alright,” Padme said softly. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Anakin replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just want to see you.”

“Alright, Ani. I’ll see you soon then.”

Anakin grabbed his robe and tore through the halls of the temple until he was spilling into the streets of Coruscant. Cold air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t care. His annoyance, his anger, kept him feeling warm.

He should probably take a speeder. It would be faster. But he needed to burn off some energy and a brisk walk through the smog-soaked streets promised some reprieve from the worst of his rage.

The sights, the sounds, the smells of Coruscant all flooded his senses. He did his best to filter it out and focus on his destination, but a storefront was playing the nightly news and the headline passed through his unstable filters.

“Next up on evening news: A planet in distress. It has been one year since the assassination of Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore.”

Anakin’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately backtracked and stood in front of the holo, unable to look away and unable to hear anything else but this.

“With the Death Watch regime now in power, will Mandalore finally take a side in the Clone War? Tune in tonight for predictions from our expert analyst.”

Anakin’s thoughts raced back to the argument he had with Obi-Wan not even an hour ago.

Every tragedy that befalls me.

One year.

Oh yeah, Anakin messed up.

He fumbled around for his comm and flipped it open. “Padme, I’m so sorry, I can’t come by anymore. I need to go home.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Padme asked suspiciously.

“Nothing. I just need to clear something up with Obi-Wan. That’s all.”

“What did you do this time?” she groaned.

“I’ll tell you about it later, I need to go.”

“Alright, love. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Anakin turned off his comm, turned on his heels, and ran.

He tore through the temple just as he had torn out of it. He ignored sideways glances and zeroed in on the pathway to their quarters. The door slid open at his command and he bounded over their threshold. Despite just covering a great distance to get here, the distance from the threshold to Obi-Wan’s room felt greater still. Still, he willed his legs, now tired from his sprint through Coruscant, to carry him to Obi-Wan’s room.

He did not bother knocking. If he did, Obi-Wan would refuse to see him and he needed to see him.

The room was cloaked in darkness, but city lights cascaded on Obi-Wan’s body through the window like artificial moonbeams. He was still as if in sleep, but his breathing was hitched and ragged and anything but restful.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked cautiously.

“Not now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan muttered softly.

“No, I–” Anakin faltered. “You don’t have to talk to me. I came to apologize.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

Anakin turned on a lamp and Obi-Wan squinted at the warm glow. His eyes, Anakin noticed, were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His hair was a mused and greasy mess.

“May I sit?” Anakin asked.

“If I tell you no, you will just sit anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that more than anyone.”

“So can I sit?” Anakin asked, trying not to let impatience creep back in.

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “You may sit.”

Obi-Wan pulled himself up into a sitting position and moved sideways, allowing Anakin to sit beside him.

“Anakin stop,” Obi-Wan said quickly before Anakin could get all the way on his bed.

“What?” Anakin asked worried Obi-Wan had suddenly changed his mind.

“Take your muddy boots off before you get in my bed. Force who raised you?”

Anakin let out a sharp laugh. He relaxed. If Obi-Wan could scold him like that, then what existed between them was not entirely broken.

“I hate to break it to you, Master,” Anakin said. “But you had a significant hand in my upbringing.”

“Where did I go wrong?” Obi-Wan said, his half-smile an olive branch.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Anakin said. He pulled off his boots and settled in next to Obi-Wan. “You did okay.”

Obi-Wan’s half-smile lingered for a moment longer before fading away.

“Master, I–” Anakin started. He made himself gentler, softer, smaller — everything Obi-Wan needed him to be — everything he was not. “Master, I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“It’s fine, Anakin.”

“It’s not. I shouldn’t have pushed you and I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Obi-Wan averted his gaze and remained silent.

“I know you care,” Anakin said earnestly. “I know you care about the Order. The war. Your men. I know you care about,” now Anakin’s breath shook. “I know you care about Ahsoka even though she’s gone. I know you care about me and… and I know you care about her.”

Obi-Wan remained silent for a while and Anakin fought the urge to ask him to say something. That’s how they ended up here in the first place.

“It’s been a year,” Obi-Wan said.

“I know,” Anakin said. “Well, I didn’t know, but I saw it on the news, and I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been a year and we’re still in this bloody war and she’s dead and he’s still…” alive.

Obi-Wan didn’t need to finish the sentence for Anakin to know what he meant. He blinked back tears, stubbornly refusing to let them fall.

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. The words felt lame and altogether too small to cover the true meaning behind them. But he was not Obi-Wan. He had no words of wisdom or comfort to offer — only apologies and quiet condolences.

“I know, Anakin.”

“Is there something I can do?” Anakin asked, feeling useless.

Obi-Wan finally turned to him, and Anakin could feel the loneliness, the sadness, the exhaustion rolling off of his former Master.

“You can stay.”

So he did.

#my writing #anakin and obi wan #thanks for the prompt!#prompt fill

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fishnets-fingers · 3 years ago

Note

(MAYA!! I'M HERE WITH SOME SEROTNIN FOR YOU!!)

Did I not say it loud enough? I said beep. beep. Move aside. Part 17's feedback is here! ...don't make me repeat it ✨ BAbyGUrL✨

[ He mumbles, palm coming to slap his forehead, he found himself doing that a bit often now, whenever he did something stupid - a gesture he’d picked up from Layla. ] - Oops? hehe

[ “Oh, um… right.” He fumbles, cheeks flushing, the basket was the only thing obscuring his semi he was sporting at the moment. ] I think I know what he was shielding from ‘any wandering nosey set of eyes’

Oh well, from what you pictured in my mind, she’s looking hot. I get why Harry got that problem xD

[ Layla: you might have some serious competition. imma coming for the money lol. ] Ah, finally got what she meant by this text...

[ Okay no, he thinks to himself. I’m not gonna kill her, I’m gonna fucking ruin her. ] holy shit lmao holy shit.

////

[ a heady intermingling of cocoa butter and her three orgasms. ] fuckin’ hell

[ “‘You have witchcraft in your lips’,” he mutters, soaking in the comfort of her eyes. ] *loses it*

[ “What must this dashing gent doth to prove my fair lady otherwise?” ] *impressed*

[ “Watch,” he reminds her, head cocking to the left. Towards the mirror that she’d finished painting the frame of. ] that was ...hot

[ “Fuck. Kiss me. Now,” she demands, shifting her weight on her elbow, propping herself up. ] Wish I could jump through the screen but I guess Harry will have to do my job for now.

[ “Stretch your legs out,” he instructs, kissing her hair. When she does, he wraps his own with hers. ] I know where this is going. I KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING

[ He turns to her and places a giant slobbering kiss on her cheek, the raspberries making her giggle. “Ew,” she whines. - “Excuse me? Ew?” - “Yeah,” she giggles again. ] i love this couple so much...

[ It was too much. A few tears spring out from the corners of her eyes, it was too much altogether, her body feels like it was struck by a lightning bolt. ] *eyes widen in realization*

[ She feels something trickle out of her, and her eyes spring open. - “Did you just-“ he starts, eyes widening, eyes flicking down to see his drenched hand, she was still spamming around his digits as her orgasm settled down. - “I didn’t pee. I swear!” She panics, sitting up straighter. - “Baby, you just squirted,” he tells her. - “Ew no! Isn’t that like pee?” - “I don’t think so,” he chuckles. “Fuck that was so hot!” ] FUCKING HELL

[ “Layla. Underwhelming is the last word I would use to describe anything that relates to you,” he says, eyes shining with sincerity. ] *swoons*

[ “You may not have been my first but I’m having a lot of firsts with you,” he admits. ] SREAMING.

[ But that being said, he loved running his fingers through them, detangling them, scratching her scalp, winding locks around his fingers when her hair was freshly washed and dried. ] this was comforting

[ “I’d love to. But I don’t think my legs would cooperate,” she chuckles. - “I can carry you to the loo,” he offers. - “Appreciate the gesture and all but-““You’re pee shy and would rather die than have me assist you to the bathroom.” - “Yeah,” she laughs. ] ahah

////

[ It was a picture she had taken of Susan ] Susan 😂

[ She wasn’t into gaming as the rest of them but would always prefer to watch them play, while she read a book. ] she’s like me, gonna have ice cream with her soon.

////

[ “I make you happy?” Layla asks, taken aback. ] um.. omfg

[ She didn’t know how to respond to that. Let alone what to say. It was as if someone had pulled the rug from under her feet. Was she capable of making someone feel happy? She knew her cousin, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends liked having her around because they either were genetically programmed to do that or were forced to because of circumstances. But Harry didn’t have those stakes. They weren’t related in the least bit and he didn’t need to put up with her just cause. Hell, he didn’t even need to talk to or be nice to her when they first met . She opens her mouth as her brain tried to pull a few words together but all she could do was to gape at him, like a fish gasping for oxygen when pulled out of the water. ] *rubs my own arm*

Harry’s family wanting to meet Layla and Layla’s partial family wanting to meet Harry and liking him...

////

[ Layla rocks with glee as she sees the bowls containing nuts and resins, and the other with an array of cut fruits. ] oh I absolutely despise raisins xD

[ “They are so salty. Love me some salt.” She pops them into her mouth, sucking on them. ] I DO THAT TOO!!

[ “I can think of something else that’s salty,” he smirks at her. ] this man is2g

[ “Hmm. I don’t know if it’s a family thing or a desi thing but I always get cut up fruits or nuts and dates whenever I’m working. He does it at night as well, when I’m working on things for my classes, he’d bring me a banana or a glass of warm milk upstairs before heading to bed.” ] it’s lail’s family thing lmao

[ She didn’t know much about the weather but Harry did and she was always up for learning new things from him. He did make her feel stupid for asking silly questions, in fact it only make him more eager to explain things in detail. He didn’t do it in a condescending way either, they were instances where she asked people about economics or softwares and they’d always brush it off as something that’s complex but Harry would go on and on for hours, patiently, until she understood it - like why some clouds were grey and the others were fluffy and white. ] literally love this kind of dynamic

[ “Big spider. It’s on the counter. It’s moving a lot and jumpy too. ” ] oh this reminds me, I just killed a spider this morning in panic...

[ So fucking cute, he smiles at her. ] *grins*

////

[ “If I’ve gotten rid of this pouch,” she grunts out, pinching the two inches of fat that protruded below her belly button. ] oh my baby, absolutely not. *dials Harry*

[ “You should have seen the look on his face when you managed to crawl in between his legs with the ball to score a point.” ] lmfao

[ “You know. After the trip, I might need to get a few maternity clothes. Do you mind coming along?” “No. I’d love too. I know how much you hate the way maternity clothes look, but I’ll try and help you pick out a few nice things. ] ask Layla to take me and @sunandherflores with her (we’d be glad to have ya tag along <3)

[ “On the plus side, I would get to start a new collection. But it’s scary. I’m 34 and sometimes it feels like people have labelled me as high risk, just because of my age. Just sucks.” ] join me on my journey to flip these people off.

[ “We were trying for a while. Took almost a year for it to stick but no. I’m glad I waited to be done with my studies. I’m glad I got to work and get to a good point in my career. I’m also glad I got to build my forever house before welcoming a baby,” she smiles at her. ] yay!

[ “I think it’s a boy. Vasanth has no preference, he’s happy either way.” - “I think it might be a boy too. How are the stretch marks now? Still itchy?” ] now because one already doesn’t has a guess and two are guessing towards a boy, I’m gonna go and guess a girl, just because.

[ “I do too. Such complicated relationships women have with their bodies.” - “I know I can’t complain because everyone around me tells me how pretty I look but-“ - “It’s hard to accept that when you don’t view yourself like that,” Abi finishes it for her. ] I absolutely adore women.

[ Harry took it upon himself to bake Anne’s birthday cake himself. He did it at theirs, so Anne doesn’t find out about his surprise. Layla helped him shape the foundaunt similar to his reference pictures - red ruby slippers, yellow brick road, witch’s pointy shoes with stripy leggings, tiny red flowers, shrubbery and the emerald city place. Harry was busy making a four layer lemon cake with lemon cream and cheese buttercream - Anne’s favourite. - She slipped past him today to come workout, so he could concentrate on getting his cake to perfection. ] ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh

////

[ “Come sit on my lap,” he whispers to her, as she’s blending the foundation into his skin. - “Do you think it’s a good idea? You know with a umm….” - “Bluttplug up my arse,” he finishes for her. - “Thanks. I was trying to be coy about it,” she says while he’s pulling her to sit on his lap .] lmaoo

[ “I mean we didn’t plan for it but the minute I came out in my dress and you called my pretty, I just knew I needed it.” ] hmmmhmhmhmhm

[ I’m just going to wear a dog costume. ] she gonna look like a hot dog xD (see what i did there??)

[ “Jeez, it’s a lot of work this makeup busine- Ow it’s in my eye. You poked my eye!” He yells, tears quickly rolling out due to the irritation. - “Fuck. Sorry. I’m so sorry. Stay still, please!” - “How can I stay still when you’ve literally poked my eyeball?!?” ] lmfaoo the only cliffhanger i’ve ever loved

I CANNOT wait to see Anne’s reaction omg

And done-dana-dun-done!

I feel like I’m recharged after reading these two lovely parts, Maya! I had a great Friday and a great Saturday, thanks to you!! (gonna binge @sunandherflores tomorrow xD)

A lovely Lotus for a lovely gal <333

Two reactions in a span of twenty hour hours!! Bub, you’ve spoilt me too much.

Thank you!!!!!!!!!! Yes to shopping with you and S!

Also, if Abi and Vasanth’s baby turns out to be a boy, Layla and him would have such a tight bond. But lord help them if it’s a girl and they get a Layla 2.0; she would be seconds away from wanting to murder that child.

A lotus for me? My favourite *swoons*

#aprajita #book club #six months #part seventeen

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ampleappleamble · 3 years ago

Text

This is a long one.

Content warning: Mentions of child abuse.

—

Axa looked at Aloth sitting on the animancer's couch and wondered if, in bringing him here, she had made a mistake.

He looked utterly miserable: copper bands fastened just a little too tightly around his forehead and his wrists, too wound up with inner tension to even wipe away the bead of sweat slowly crawling down his temple, and Bellasege's cheerful, energetic demeanor as she bustled about setting up her equipment only served to further accentuate his misery. Kana and Pallegina paid more attention to the animancer than to their own traveling companion, inquiring about the procedure and the tools used in performing it regardless of Aloth's obvious discomfort, while Sagani and Edér fumbled awkwardly in their misguided attempts to distract him with jokes and platitudes. Overall, the room had an atmosphere suggestive of the future site of a terrible accident that, later, everyone present would claim they could never have seen coming.

Everyone but the victim.

Aloth's gaze met Axa's, silvery-blue eyes pleading silently, and she gave him the warmest, most comforting smile she could muster. "It'll be alright, Aloth," she reassured him gently. "We're all here with you."

Edér puffed on his pipe, bathing the elf in thick, odorous smoke while Sagani dabbed at his clammy brow with a scrap of cloth, her fox sniffing delicately at his boots. Kana ignored him in favor of examining the animancer's complex equipment, while Pallegina stood by the door, coolly observing the scene.

"Marvelous," Aloth muttered.

"Alright, gliente, we are ready now to begin!" The primary instrument Bellasege intended to use rather resembled a telescope, albeit one that bristled with gears and thick bundles of copper wiring, fixed into a tripod and focused on Aloth's midsection. The animancer peered into it eagerly, adjusting knobs and tilting it just so, all eyes in the room nervously darting between her and her subject, waiting for something to happen.

"First," she continued, "we must evoke this other presence in your soul, entice it into showing itself. And to do that, we must agitate your humors– stir up your essence, ac?" She poked her head out from behind the scope, beaming at him. "So! You will answer some personal questions so as to facilitate the emotional response necessary to draw out your inner turmoil."

Everyone's eyes widened as they turned toward Aloth, their eyebrows jumping up their respective foreheads. "Don't worry, dear," Sagani smiled, wincing as she patted his elbow. "We won't hear any of it, I'm sure." He did not look at her, and Bellasege waved her hand impatiently at the dwarf until she backed away from the couch.

Focusing again on the eyepiece of her scope, Bellasege pressed on. "Please state your full name, your species and stock, sex, age, date and place of birth. For the record."

He sighed. "I'm... I am Aloth Corfiser, Sceltrfolc, male, 62 years of age, born on the 9th of Préauton, 2760 AI, in the Cythwood, in the Aedyr Empire." He started off strong enough, but by the end his voice was wavering, his gaze flitting uncomfortably around the room, not quite able to stay on any one spot for too long.

"And at what time in your life did you first Awaken, Fentre Corfiser?" She somehow managed to take notes with one hand and fiddle with her scope with the other, her script messy and slanting severely to one side due to looking through her lenses instead of at what she was writing. "It is 'Fentre', ac?"

He glanced at Pallegina. "Is it?"

"It is," the paladin asserted. "Unless you are keeping a marriage secret from us, too. In which case, you would be properly addressed as Mestre Corfiser."

"Fentre it is, then," he sighed. "And to answer your question, I... I first Awakened when I was still very young, only fifteen or... thereabouts."

"Fractured at... the very cusp... of adolescence..." Bellasege made a quick mark in her notes, frowned, squinted harder into her scope. "...And what were your early years like, Fentre? Were you a healthy infant? A difficult child? Was your family splintered, abusive, impoverished, stricken with madness or malady?"

"I don't– I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, frustration slowly coloring his pale cheeks. "I had a perfectly ordinary childhood. Nondescript, uneventful. What sort of a question is that to ask someone?"

Edér grinned. "The sort one asks a man who talks to a lady in his head, I'd reckon."

Axa glared at the farmer, stepping away from him and closer to the couch. "Not helping, Edér."

Judging from Aloth's reluctance in coming here in the first place, she figured they probably only had one chance at this, and he was never going to get anywhere if he couldn't relax and focus enough to be honest about himself. So she approached him until he was within arm's length of her, lowering her head to look into his face until he returned her gaze. "Here, Aloth: Try telling her about your parents. Your mother, your father. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you remember growing up with them?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Axa became aware of something odd stirring within her. It wasn't physical, it wasn't mental, it wasn't exactly emotional although it was closer to that than to anything else she could ascribe it to. The feeling reminded her of her final moments with Maerwald, how after she'd landed the killing blow and the old man's soul had seeped up and out of his physical body, she had been able to reach out to it somehow, to communicate her will to it and help it pass out of this world, away from Caed Nua and off to the Beyond. Aloth's soul was in no way preparing to do the same, but at the moment it was more... open to her, despite not consciously using her abilities as a Watcher, and she could see it in a way she ordinarily couldn't– and if she tried, she found she could very subtly influence it, too.

His soul was dark and stormy, a thousand thousand writhing violet wires all coiled and snarled around one another, but as Axa spoke her voice resonated within her like the toll of a bell, waves of calm emanating out from her to roll over the turbulent sea inside him, and she watched as the wisps of essence at the edges of his soul smoothed themselves, began to pulse gently in unison. Her eyes were still locked with his, and she dimly perceived his pupils dilating, his eyelids drooping as his soul untangled itself and allowed him to give voice to his thoughts at last.

"My mother," he murmured softly. "My mother is... away. She's usually away, tending to her duties with her thayn. But when we're together, when she's home, she's good to me." The muscles under his eyes and at the corners of his mouth tensed up, and his breath hitched in his throat. "I... I miss her. But that's what brings in most of the money for the household. Her haemneg to her thayn. So she's away, often."

Bellasege gasped. "I'm starting to see something," she whispered.

"My father... hates this. Hates that it's her, her and her other man, who are supporting his family despite his hard work and dedication to his erl. He... he drinks to escape that pain. In great quantity, and often. As often as she is away, but sometimes even when she's home." Aloth narrowed his eyes, lip curling into a scowl. "And he takes out on us what pain he cannot escape in drink. He... hurts her when she's home. Hurts me when she's not."

"Keep him talking," Bellasege hissed excitedly, twiddling a knob.

Axa could still feel the calm emanating from her, great waves flowing over to his soul on the tides of her voice, entrancing him. They echoed back to her too, it seemed, snippets of feeling and memory riding back on their wake– a man's voice booming through austere halls, fear and anger that was not hers churning her guts. "He hurt you the day you were Awakened, too, didn't he?"

"She was home," he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I should have been alright. She should have kept me safe. She was home, but he was sodden with it, and I–"

"Slow down," Axa murmured. "What happened exactly?"

"I– I was home, tending to my chores, sweeping the kitchen. Thinking about my training. I tried so hard, I always tried hard, but– but I was so terrified of failure that I couldn't focus, so my missiles weren't manifesting the way they should have. My flame shields were weak, unstable. Like me. And he must have heard about it." Aloth clenched his jaw tightly, his hands balled into fists, and Axa could feel something bubbling up within him, something in his soul raging and frothing up just beneath the surface. "I was sweeping the kitchen floor, and then– then I was sprawled across it, my blood was spattered across it, and I barely had time to think that now I'd have to clean it again before he–"

–can't even do that right, can you–

The disturbance in the depths of his soul spiked suddenly, making the tang of fresh blood and boot polish fill Axa's mouth and sinuses, the memory of his father's voice driving nausea and dread to rise up inside her like a malevolent fog. Aloth started to curl in on himself, drawing his knees up, hunching his shoulders.

–give me the respect I'm due if I have to wring it out of your worthless throat–

Aloth's voice was reduced to an agonized whimper. "It was then the beating truly began. I tried to protect myself, but if I shielded my front, he'd go for my kidneys, and if I rolled onto my back, he'd kick my ribs, stomp my belly. It was useless–"

–useless little shit, not even mine, is he, you whore–

"–useless. I was trapped, and he was... I thought he was going to kill me. So I... I did the only thing I could, and I... escaped in my mind. I took myself away from him, left my body on the kitchen floor, and I shrunk back into myself where he couldn't hurt me anymore. Where he could never hurt me again. And I... sh-she..." Aloth went silent, and his eyes whipped around rapidly beneath his eyelids, his fingers twitching and his jaw clenched so tightly Axa could hear his teeth grinding together. His soul thrashed and seethed, and Axa drew back instinctively, as though turning away from spitting grease.

"Madiccho, I'm losing it!" Bellasege bared her teeth as she furiously twisted her knobs, apparently to no avail. "He's managed to mesmerize himself somehow! His essence is all over the place. Tella, you've got to snap him out of it, quickly, per complanca!"

–stop it please stop he's our son our boy o gods you'll kill him you'll–

"Aloth–" Her heart leapt up into her throat, and before she could stop herself, Axa was reaching out to take his hand, holding it tightly between her own, desperately trying to bring him back to the here and now. "Aloth! Listen to me, you're alright, it's just a bad memory!"

For a second, it seemed to be working– his eyes stayed shut, but his breathing slowed, his shaking subsided, even his soul seemed to cool and congeal a bit, settling back into a more stable state. She squeezed his hand gently, her fingertips pressed to his palm, her thumb drifting over his knuckles. And after a moment, his fingers flexed weakly, tentatively gripping her hand in return. Something in her stomach fluttered, and warmth bloomed across her cheeks. "...It's alright. You're here now, and I'm here with you. You're safe–"

–it's over now, dear heart, you're safe, he's gone–

And with that, Aloth's eyes flew open, and very suddenly his soul violently rejected Axa's presence, severing her influence over it like slamming a door in her face. She jerked back in shock, his hand slipping from her grasp, and he dug his fingers into the meat of his thighs, knuckles white with tension as he glowered at the little woman.

"The lad's nere safe when I hap' upon him." His voice was low and husky and dangerous.

Axa blinked, looking at Aloth's eyes and seeing a stranger. "...Iselmyr?"

"Am damn sure nae yer Aloth, lass. Or could ye nae tell?" He smirked– no, she smirked, using his face, and a second later he winced, gasping and writhing as he struggled for control.

A cry of elation rang out from behind the scope. "Yes! At last! There it is: the anomaly in his soul, clear as crystal!" Bellasege jabbed at her parchment with her quill, consumed with what she saw through the polished adra lenses. "Fascinating! Please, Tella Mala, you must get it– get her– to engage with you further. This data is truly astonishing!" Even Kana looked mildly disturbed by the woman's enthusiasm for knowledge at the expense of Aloth's suffering, and he turned wide-eyed to Axa, grimacing distastefully.

She tried not to think about it. This was more for Aloth than Bellasege– much more– and though it was difficult for him, he'd be better off after all was said and done. "Iselmyr, what exactly brought you out in Aloth? Why did you feel you had to intervene?"

"Fer why'd ye think, ye wee daftie?" Iselmyr curled Aloth's lip into a snarl, glaring at Axa with barely contained rage. "The lad tellt ye whit his da were oop tae. When ye can hear naught but yer bones crackin' 'n' yer blood roarin' in yer heed, when crisis is nigh 'n' it's yer neck oan th' block– d'ye jess lie back 'n' let 'em snuff ye?"

Edér's pipe almost tumbled from his mouth, hanging agape with wonder. "Did anyone understand... uh, most of that?"

"Try to get them to talk to one another," Bellasege suggested, ignoring Edér entirely. "Interacting with outside influences is good, but interacting with each other ought to reveal exactly where one ends and the other begins."

"Can you do that?" Sagani knitted her brow, concern shining in her dark eyes as she studied Aloth. "And even if you can, is it a good idea?"

Axa leaned close again, carefully laying her hand on the elf's shoulder. "Aloth, can you hear me? Can you speak with Iselmyr? Ask her what she's trying to do?"

He groaned in frustration, planted his elbows on his knees and his temples between his fists. "What she's doing?" he snapped. "She's ruining my life, that– that damnable, stubborn–" He panted for breath, struggling against her, face red and veins throbbing in his brow. "Sticking weed–" he managed. "Worming parasite–"

And then he threw his head back, cackling, tossing Axa's hand from his shoulder as he did. "Fye, ye'd say th' same to yer wee kindled twig when it faws limp in yer haund!"

"Oof," Edér chuckled, shifting uncomfortably. "Guess that would be a pretty common problem for a fella, knowin' some lady's in his body, judgin' him the whole time he's tryin' to–"

"Not helping, Edér." Sagani echoed Axa's earlier sentiment, taking the man by the elbow and steering him away from the couch, Itumaak nipping helpfully at his heels.

"This presence in him, it... it's as though it pools in the recesses he's made in himself, it ebbs where he flows." Bellasege wobbled the scope to and fro, peering into it all the while. "Whether you meant to or not, Fentre, you've carved out quite the spacious little home for your other half!"

"That's ludicrous," Aloth hissed, outrage and humiliation burning his cheeks. "I give her nothing; she takes without asking, usurps me–"

"I only takes whit I need to keep us ou' th' scupper!" Iselmyr interrupted, baring Aloth's teeth, spittle flying from his lip. "An' I dinnae take wi'out givin', ken?"

Aloth blinked, then scoffed derisively. "What have you ever given me aside from trouble, you wretched bumpkin?" The back-and-forth was dizzying, but Axa was somehow managing to keep up.

"Fye, have lent ye a pair o' baws mair times 'n I can count," Iselmyr snapped. She turned Aloth's gaze on Axa again, his eyes wild and fierce with her behind them. "G'wan, Watcher-lass. Ask 'im whit I dae fer us. How last time that auld bastard da o' his lay his haund on us, I brek it in three feckin' places."

The triumphant grin Iselmyr had forced onto Aloth's face was replaced with an agonized grimace as he wrested control back yet again. "You had no right! That decision wasn't yours to make, nothing in my life was ever supposed to be your decision to make!"

"And Awakenin' in a wee scrawny jessie li' ye were nae my decision neither! But am here fer th' duration, an' am nae jess gonnae lie doon 'n' let ye get us both dragged behin' th' wagon!" This, it seemed, was Iselmyr's final word on the matter, and at last she once again fell dormant, relinquishing the reins of Aloth's body back to him. He sat for a moment, trembling and sweating and catching his breath, his ragged panting the only sound in the tiny, stuffy room.

The drunks outside the Black Hound, the cult in the catacombs, his father's vicious assault– it was all clicking into place. Whenever the meek, mild Aloth was threatened or overwhelmed, the bold, brash Iselmyr sprang forward to take care of it in his stead, although it seemed she also got him into as much trouble as she got him out of. Iselmyr was just as fiery in her defense of herself as Aloth was in his condemnation of her, but the more she thought about it, the more Axa couldn't help but think Iselmyr was trying, in her way, to defend him, too.

"Belfetto," Bellasege chirped, breaking the silence as she bounded out from behind her scope. "Excellent work, gliente! I think I have more than enough to work with here." She whipped her sheaf of notes out theatrically in front of her, her eyes scanning back and forth over them as she spoke, jotting down corrections and addendums here and there. "The second presence in the subject's soul– Iselmyr, as she calls herself– manifested most intensely during the, ah, more heated portions of their discussion. Her essence coalesced in its greatest quantities here–" she thrust her quill at Aloth's chest– "in his left ribcage, near his spleen. Therefore, she is obviously triggered by the production of black bile in the spleen, no doubt due to the profoundly melancholic nature of the subject." Bellasege beamed with pride at her diagnosis. The rest of the room's occupants stared at Bellasege with incredulity, exchanged worried looks with one another.

"Then by your... uh, logic," Kana ventured dubiously, "removing his spleen should... cure him?"

Aloth glared at the woman, eyes wide with disbelief at what he was hearing. "That... is utter horseshit," he spat, and Axa couldn't quite tell which of his body's occupants had used his mouth to say it.

Pallegina snorted. "That's one way to put it."

Bellasege's demeanor flipped in an instant. "Well! I'm certain you know exactly what's going on, then, given my extensive training in the animantic sciences and your having come to me for help. So do tell, Fentre: what is your theory?"

"I– You're seriously telling me to diagnose myself? Why did we even come here if you're only going to spout nonsense?" Aloth sounded more panicked than angry, and he turned to Axa in desperation, silently imploring her.

And she obliged, stepping between the injured animancer and her insulted subject. "If I may? I think, perhaps, you're closer to the truth than my friend is willing to admit, Bellasege." The animancer raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Axa to continue even as Aloth huffed indignantly behind her. "You were onto something when you suggested an emotional trigger for Iselmyr's usurpations, but from my experiences traveling alongside him and his retelling of his personal history– including the very illuminating account we've all just heard– I'd posit that Iselmyr tends to emerge when Aloth is in danger."

She half expected an argument, but both Bellasege and Aloth remained quiet instead, considering her words. "I... suppose that theory could hold some merit," Bellasege murmured after a beat. "You do know him better than I. However, I'll have to cross-reference it with other research, of course."

That seemed to shake Aloth out of his reverie, and he nervously began picking at the copper bands on his wrists. "That's all well and good for you, but I've waited fifty years for some answers. Can't you tell me anything now?"

"Aloth, this isn't the first time you and Iselmyr have spoken like this, is it?" Axa spoke softly, carefully. She had an idea, but she needed to ease him into it or he'd reject it outright.

Difficult, isn't he? Remind you of someone? The thought popped into her head as she remembered his hand, warm and trembling in hers, but she pushed it away.

He gave the little woman a guarded look. "Not exactly," he admitted. "I've been forced to be... discreet about her very existence up until now, so whatever disagreements we've had in the past have tended to be resolved quickly, by necessity. Not that it ever did me any good."

"But she has. You told me yourself your father was never violent with you again after Iselmyr gave him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe her methods aren't exactly what you'd choose for yourself, but you can't say she doesn't get results." Axa shrugged and gave him a hopeful little smile. "It might be worth it to... collaborate with her a little more. Let her in, try things her way."

"Yeah," Edér piped up, grinning, "she's alright. And if she starts somethin' you can't finish, you know we've got your back."

Aloth rose from the couch, rubbing his wrists and scoffing at Axa's words. "You wouldn't say that if you'd had to listen to her deranged ranting day and night for the past five decades." He cast a baleful glare at the discarded copper bands on the couch, but when he turned back to her, his face was thoughtful, sincere. "Regardless, this has been... quite an enlightening experience. In many ways. Thank you, Axa." He smiled at her, and her face went warm again.

"Ac, Tella Mala, agracima!" Not one to be ignored, Bellasege slapped her notes down on her desk and strolled over to her scope, preparing to disassemble it. "I'll be sure to make mention of your assistance in my report, send you a copy once it's published. Although unfortunately I will be unable to credit you as a co-author. You understand, of course."

Aloth's head whipped around to face her. "Report? Published?" He looked as though he'd just been sentenced to hang.

"But of course, Fentre Corfiser! This is science, not fun and games." She smiled at him like a cat with a cornered mouse. "You'll be the toast of Revua, rest assured!"

He balked, his face pale and drawn until a familiar crooked grin crawled across it. "Lookit ye there, shimmerin' star o' the soul sciences," Iselmyr quipped. "Jest whit ye've always wanted."

—

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #fic wip #cw child abuse #please let me know if i'm not doing that cw tag correctly #hoo boy this one's a doozy #in a good way though #anyway *puts aloth in a soft warm place where no one can ever hurt him again*#thanks for reading ♡

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whyralltheusernamestaken · 5 years ago

Note

hi! just wanted to drop a request, hope you don't mind! i'm down for some sappy shit rn so throw some nasty angst of prohero!bakugo x s/o. maybe bakugo cheating on his s/o, that led to a big fight, then break up, but bakugo realizes he loves his s/o — something like that. make it as angst as you can. hope it's not too much, thank you!

I am so so SO sorry for not doing this sooner, I’ve taken a few months off I’m so sorry, I don’t even know if you will see this ahah.

Warning : swearing, cheating

Word count : 862

~~~

Royally

It all seemed to happen too quickly.

One moment you lay happily in his arms, your head resting softly on his chest as you watched the movie together, his fingers entwined with yours and then the next you had his phone in your hand, clicking on the message he had just received, the chat box opening to dozens of photos shared between the pair.

Who was she? And why was she sending nudes to your boyfriend. Or maybe the better question would be, why was he sending them back?

Your finger automatically started scrolling, revealing the hundreds of back and forth material from the pair. He had even be texting her during your birthday! He was your boyfriend for crying out loud, and yet here he was sexting other women behind your back? You were sure that was only the tip of the iceberg, the texts leading you to the conclusion that they had indeed met up in real life more than once.

You sat frozen on the couch, your eyes glazed over and as you stared in the direction from which Bakugou would be walking back. As you hear the flush of the toilet and his footsteps growing, you felt your initial shock turn into a fury, seething from your mouth as you watched him come back into view.

“You are disgusting.” you snarled, chucking his phone back to him carelessly as he fumbled to catch it.

“What the actual fuck, what has gotten into you?” You stared back in silence, hands on your waist as you gestured to his phone with your head and eyes.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as he slowly lifted it up and unlocked his, the chatroom wide open. He was caught, he knew so. It was his fault, and yet his pride only made things worse, the thought of being a deer caught in the headlights slowly settled in him and he exploded him phone in his grasp.

“Did I give permission for you to go through my phone?” he shouted, chucking the remains to the floor as he marched up to you on the couch.

“And now everything’s my fault?” you shouted back, throwing your hands up in the air. “I’m not going to just ignore the fact that you’re seeing other people behind my back Katsuki.”

He opened his mouth to reply but you cut him off, continuing your rant. “I told you at the very beginning, I’ve already told you. I’m okay with you breaking things off if you want to see other women, I’d understand that and you bloody promised me you wouldn’t cheat. Some fucking hero you are.”

His hands continue to release explosions as he walked closer and closer towards you. He was fuming too, but you didn’t understand why he was mad. "You’ve fucked up Katsuki. You have, and we both know that, but if you’re going to be so childish and refuse to acknowledge that, then I don’t even understand why we’re dating. I don’t want to be with some cowardly boy.” you spat, grabbing you phone and bag and fast walking to the door.

“Come back here Y/N.” he screamed, but his feet stayed frozen to the ground as you slammed the door. He fell backwards, sitting down on the couch with his head in his hands.

He had fucked up royally.

~~~

You sat quietly in the passenger side as Momo drove you back to her house.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked softly, slowing down the car as the lights turned red.

You stayed silent for a few more moments before sighing, wiping away the tears from your eyes. “I just-” you started, pausing to take a deep breath and you watched the light turn back to green. “Is it my fault?”

“No of course not sweetie.” she reassured you, stepping on the gas.

“I don’t understand. Where did everything go wrong. I thought we were both happy but obviously that wasn’t true in his case.” you ranted, running your fingers through your hair. “I made it so clear that I hate getting cheated on. He could’ve just broken up with me.”

“Perhaps he didn’t want to hurt you.”

“And he totally didn’t hurt me now? What kind of fucked up logic is that? To keep me happy by not telling me? I just wish there were warning signs. Something to tell me, oh, your boyfriend of three years doesn’t love you anymore and is seeing people behind your back. I’m so stupid, how could I have no seen any red flags? How blind was I?” you screamed, gripping your bag even more tightly as you felt your eyes tear up again.

“I just don’t know why I’m not good enough.” you sobbed. You felt the car come to a halt and Momo reached over, wrapping her arms around you shoulders and stroking your hair as you cried for what was probably the 4th time that evening.

~~~

His friends were beyond worried for him.

He had buried himself in even more hero work than usual, returning to his apartment alone at the early hours of the morning.

They had tried all sorts of things, such as inviting him to the club. He had gone once, after hours of convincing from Kirishima, and yet the night ended with him ridiculously drunk and bitter. That was the last time they had ever suggested going to a bar ever again, and the boys tried to think of other ways to help.

Therapy? No, he blew up in the reception. Asking Mina? She had simply told him the truth, and that was that he was in the wrong and you had every reason to leave him. Hero work? That was the only solution they could come up with. It was unhealthy, for sure, but it took his mind off his faults and he buried himself in the paperwork, rather than someone else’s legs.

He had cut off all ties with the girls he spoke to, wishing he had done so months prior, but he knew that not even a quirk could help him right the mistakes he made in your relationship.

He had called you millions of times, around twenty calls a day during the first week you left him. The one time you had picked up was the night he was drunk, and after that, you blocked his number.

He felt utter despair.

The person who had been by his side since the first day of high school and eventually had become his partner now wanted nothing to do with him. He couldn’t live with the guilt that consumed him.

He loved you.

He truly did. But he could never appreciate you or hold you again because he fucked up.

Royally.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha kacchan #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #katsuki #mha #mha imagine #mha imagines #bnha headcanons

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lover-of-skellies · 4 years ago

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I don't think I've seen any writing for Betta yet. Can you do one with her, maybe Face reality or World of Grey?

Absolutely :P just like the last prompt I did, this also required a bit of thought, since I wasn't sure how to start it off. I think I got it though, so hopefully this is at least satisfactory!

This is set up like an "x reader/reader insert", and the reader ends up making the decision to kiss her a rather stupid decision, really, but here we are

You couldn't remember what could've possibly motivated you to come to the lake, especially at a time like this. Despite it only going on 7:30pm, the sky was already growing dark, and you sighed, pushing your tackle box aside. Fumbling with a couple plastic latches, you opened the box, and with a heavy heart, you turned your attention to the water and began to reel in the line you'd cast. Once it was reeled all the way in, you slipped the bait off the hook, tossing it carelessly back into the murky depths. Removing the bobber from your fishing line, you tucked it away, into it's own little space in the tackle box. Laying your fishing pole down beside yourself on your raft, you turned, intent on snatching the rope that kept your craft tethered to the dock, but to your shock and disbelief, the line had been cut.

Meaning that unless you climbed off the raft and swam back to the shore, you were stuck.

You glanced down at the water and frowned; you couldn't tell how deep it was, and you really weren't ready to jump in. Your mind began to spin with thoughts, and much like most other points in your life, you had no idea what to do. Flopping down onto your back, you let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. This was just perfect... definitely what you needed.

From your left, a soft voice broke the silence, "Hard day today?" You were about to pass it off as your mind playing tricks on you due to stress, but when you realized that you'd never heard that voice before, your eyes snapped open and you sat up, letting out a startled yelp as you noticed a pair of eyes... eye sockets, actually, peering at you from over the side of your raft.

The figure frowned, lifting themselves up out of the water just enough to prop themselves up on the side of the raft. Absentmindedly folding their arms in front of them, they frowned, their faintly glowing eye lights focused solely on you, "Oh shit, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you or anything!" Placing a hand on your chest, you let out a shaky breath, sighing again, "No, no, it's alright. It's what I get for not paying better attention to my surroundings." The figure... a skeleton, from the looks of it, tilted her head, still frowning, "Yeah well, I should've said something and let you know I was here, too." You hummed in agreement, pulling your knees to your chest and hugging them, "Yeah... that would've been good, not gonna lie." You paused, raising an eyebrow as you watched her curiously, "Anyway... Who are you? What are you doing out here?" The skeleton seemed to perk up at your sudden interest in her and she offered you a shy smile, "My name's Betta... the lake's actually my home."

You blinked, the realization suddenly dawning on you, "Oh crap. This is your home? I didn't mean to intrude or anything, I just had no idea anyone lived out here." Betta waved off your concern, her disposition completely at ease, "Nah, don't worry about it. Though I think I have the right to ask you what you're doing out here, too. Fishing, I'd assume, but why? Humans don't really do much of that anymore." You shrugged, rubbing the back of your neck, "It's been one hell of a day. Guess I thought I could come here to catch a break and relax a little."

Betta listened intently, her attention gradually drifting to the cut rope that was hanging off of your raft. Nodding toward it, she asked, "I see. And I take it that's the reason you haven't actually left yet?" You offered her a sheepish smile, "Truthfully... yeah, yeah it is." She hummed in consideration, seeming to briefly examine your raft and glance over the fishing gear that sat beside you, arching a single brow bone, "Well... this raft might be a little too big for me to pull by myself, but I could help you get to the dock, then come back and get your things for you, if you'd like." Clearly surprised, you stared at her in disbelief, "You'd really wanna do that?"

She offered you a grin, playfully winking at you, "You're a cutie, so... yeah, I wouldn't mind doing that for ya." Your cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink and she giggled, only furthering your embarrassment. Smiling sheepishly and glancing away from her, you cleared your throat, "As long as that wouldn't be an issue or anything, that'd be really cool of you." Playfully flicking what appeared to be a purple tongue at you, she shook her head, still smiling, "Nope, it wouldn't be a problem, trust me. The water's kinda deep, and I wouldn't want you to drown or anything, is all." Momentarily stunned and confused at the sight of the her tongue, you blinked. Last time you checked, skeletons weren't supposed to have those.

You wanted to ask about it, but thought better of popping such a question. That would've been weird, and you weren't about to make everything awkward again. Processing her words, you scooted a small bit closer to her and she watched you, her head tilted in a way that almost made her appear... oddly cute. She reached out to lightly poke your leg, a playful grin on her face, "Before you think about getting in the water, I require payment for my services." You eyed her cautiously, visibly confused, "What kind of payment?... I only have like... 3 dollars on me right now, so I can't give you much money."

Betta's eye lights shifted, becoming small violet hearts as her expression softened and a faint purple blush dusted across her cheekbones, "I... wouldn't normally ask for something like this, but from you, all I want is a kiss. Just one." Your blush visibly darkened and your eyes widened slightly in surprise, "You want me to kiss you?... Why though?" Her own blush darkened a couple shades and her smile turned sheepish, "I already told you. It's because you're cute, and you seem really nice. I've never really kissed a human before though, but I really want to, and if it's not too much to ask, I'd really like you to be that human."

You took a moment to consider your options: you weren't the best swimmer, plus you had a bunch of ridiculously overpriced gear you needed to take back home with you. There's no way you'd be able to swim, not with all the gear weighing you down. Monsters were supposed to be much stronger than humans, and there was a really cute monster right here, completely willing to help you. You didn't even have to pay her either. All she wanted was a single kiss. That... actually seemed doable, and it was the best choice you could make right now.

Trying to fight past your ever growing embarrassment, you tried not to look at her, your voice a mumble, "I guess I could do that, yeah. I don't normally kiss random people though, so consider yourself special, Betta." As she watched you and processed your acceptance, a wide grin slowly spread across her face and she let out a squeal, excitedly fidgeting as you moved a bit closer to her, "Thank you, human! Really!" One look at her face told you she was sincere, and you couldn't help but smile bashfully, beginning to slowly lean down toward her, "Yeah... no problem."

She began to pull herself a bit further onto the raft, trying to be closer to you as she also started to close the distance between both of you. You chose to ignore how strange it was that, as a skeleton, she was able to close her eye sockets, and instead, you focused on how purely happy she looked. Closing your eyes, you gently pressed your lips to her teeth, momentarily surprised as she eagerly returned the kiss. You'd meant for this one kiss to be short and simple, but as her jaw opened a small bit and that same purple tongue from earlier slipped out, demanding that the kiss be deepened, you found yourself beginning to lose all coherent thought.

You'd stopped just short of making out with her as she pulled away, her face stained with a darker blush as she let you catch your breath. Just as your coherent thoughts were beginning to return, she reached up with both hands, delicately cupping your face and tugging you toward herself to kiss you again, and in her sudden embrace, you could almost feel some unforseen need behind her actions. You kissed her back, slowly losing yourself in the feeling, and allowing her to very slowly tug you down with her, closer to the surface of the water.

She'd had you practically hanging over the side of your raft when she parted from you again, her face just barely beneath the water's surface. As you slowly opened your eyes to look at her, you took a moment to really admire how truly beautiful and sweet she was, and you let out a shaky breath, your mind clouded by desire. Her grip on your face suddenly turned to one of iron, and she dug her fingertips into your skin. You winced, and as you gently touched one of her hands to ask her to ease up, her sockets snapped open, now completely white. As they fixed their attention on you, she offered you an uncomfortably wide smile, her mouth now full of sharp, serrated teeth. Teeth that looked sharp enough to take off your fingers with ease, should they go anywhere near her mouth. You screamed in shock, jerking yourself backward and letting out a pained yelp as her grip on you tightened further.

As she rose up and her face broke through the water's surface, she giggled at the look of sheer terror you wore, just before tilting her head and purring, "What's the matter, human? Didn't your parents ever teach you not to talk to strangers?" You were frozen now, unable to form any words, and upon realizing this, she sighed, giving you another toothy grin, "Wake up. This is your reality. You're a human. Humans shouldn't trust each other, and they especially shouldn't trust monsters." You tried to blink back tears, and she continued, visibly amused, "If you think I'M scary, you haven't seen anything yet. My dad should be here anytime... just wait 'til you meet him."

#anon #asks #writing #betta.exe #I've never written anything for her til now #smh #also #maybe this is a little suggestive #but the seduction is part of how she lures people in #they think she's cute and sweet #and they they do a dumbass move and smooch her #nep.exe

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saiilorstars · 4 years ago

Text

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 23: By Love and Death

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: The Originals

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Ma-leh-nee

Requested tag: @queenmj10

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Maleny finishes the arrangements for Hayley's wedding. Meanwhile, Freya Mikaelson endeavors to change Finn's mind whilst also revealing that she knows something about Maleny's and Klaus' past that nobody knows.

Because Maleny has been switched bodies once again, her temporary face claim is Adriana Louvier.

A disappointed Freya walked into a morgue where her brother's, Finn, corpse rested. She went towards the body and unzipped the body bag, sure enough finding Finn. After Elijah set the safe house on fire, Finn received several harsh burned injuries on the side of his body. She noticed he wore a necklace of hers, the blue pendant talisman, and smiled a little. There was still still a chance for him to survive...and fix the wrongs he had done.

~ 0 ~

Cami hopped out of the car she'd compelled for herself and rushed over to a payphone, all the meanwhile holding a crying Hope in her arms. She was only a mile away when she heard the safe house bursting into flames. As much as she wanted to go back and help Elijah, she knew Hope was their main priority. So, once on the road she compelled the first driver that stopped by and took the car.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she fumbled to get some spare change from her pocket as she stood in front of payphone. She had to leave her phone back at the safe house as well and now she only hoped she had enough change for one stupid call to the Quarter.

Hope was crying harder, sensing something way off with her environment. On a chance, Cami dropped the quarters she'd managed to pull out of her pocket.

"Dammit!" she growled but then flinched as Hope's cries grew stronger, "Oh, I'm sorry! I'm sorry. You're being so brave, the least I can do is watch my…" she trailed off when she heard metal noises not too far. She clutched Hope to her chest and slowly looked around, "Whoever's out there, if you try anything, I will gouge out your eyes!" she called out into the dark, "You are not getting this baby!"

A minute later Elijah appeared, in torn clothes and practically covered in ash, "Your threats are getting better…"

"Oh thank God!" Cami ran to him in relief and hugged him with one arm, "What the hell happened back there? I saw the flames and I wanted to go back but I had Hope and I...I'm sorry I left."

"You did exactly what you were supposed to do," Elijah smiled at her, pulling away from their hug to hurry her towards the car, "But now we have to go."

"I don't care as long as we're together!" Cami blurted before thinking and soon found herself flustered, "I meant as in, we're like-"

Amused, Elijah just opened the door of the car for her, "I understand," Cami graciously climbed in and tried to focus on the bigger problem instead of her bluntness for words.

~ 0 ~

In the ballroom of the compound, decorators and caterers were busy preparing everything for the wedding that night. As Hayley and Jackson entered the room, they were awed by what would become their party. When Klaus had offered the place as the site for the wedding they were under the belief it would just be a simple get together...never in their lives did they think this would be happening.

"Ohhhh, I so do not belong in your world," Jackson commented as he moved up to a table and looked at the elaborate center piece.

Hayley scoffed, "My world? Give me some credit. I'm not exactly the girl who sat around fantasizing about her wedding day. And, if I had…" she motioned to the caterer passing by with a rather large wedding cake, "... it probably would have looked a little less than that."

Maleny entered from the other side of the ballroom, sheepishly smiling at the two, "Sorry, sorry, was this too much?" she'd been tasked to prepare for the wedding and since this was practically the only thing she was doing for some time she wanted it to be spectacular.

"You did this?" Hayley comically asked and pointed to the tables.

"Yeah," Maleny made a face, awaiting for some type of scold, "Klaus told me I could do it but I really know he's just trying to come up with ways to distract me from having another meltdown."

Hayley walked up to the brunette woman and hugged her tight, "I'm sorry I haven't been here for you."

Maleny smiled and hugged back, "Hey, you were busy with your wedding rituals. You can't exactly leave that for a girl who has a knack to get swapped bodies."

Hayley pulled away and sadly smiled, "This wedding will help you too, I promise. It's just for the moment, you know..."

Maleny sighed and moved to the table Jackson was at, "No offense, but your wedding won't help me. I just want to be placed back in body. It's like...it's like my entire world has been turned upside down again. The last time, it was my fault - I chose to go into a curse. But this time...I hate Finn Mikaelson. I detest him."

"Hey, it will all get fixed," Hayley tried to start but Maleny shook her head and raised a hand to stop her.

"Please, I'm tired of hearing the same things," she pulled on a happy smile for the bride and groom, but neither wolf bought it, "Today is not about me, not about curses. I'd like for today to be about this wedding which I will bust my ass off to make it perfect. I promise."

"Hayley," called Klaus, a minute later entering with a sneaky smile, something that put Hayley on edge for a min, "If I might intrude, there's someone who wishes to say hello."

At the motion to be followed, Hayley shared a look with Jackson before slowly going out to the courtyard. Maleny went after them, tugging Klaus' arm as she curiously asked, "What did you do?" she whispered, forgetting it did no good around supernatural hearing.

Klaus didn't say anything as Elijah and Cami walked into the courtyard from the entrance, Cami holding Hope.

As much as Hayley wanted to be incredibly happy to have Hope back her fear won over, "You brought them here?" she turned to Klaus, "Finn could be anywhere!"

"I've taken precautions," Klaus assured them, his devious smile alerting them he'd taken care of the immediate problem - the wolves, "There'll be no uninvited guests at your wedding, and after, your wolves will be the first line of defense to this home. No more running, Queen."

Hayley then wasted no time and ran to get Hope from Cami. As soon as she no longer held Hope, Cami went over to Maleny, whom she hadn't seen nor talked to in various days, and promptly hugged her.

"It's good to have you back," Maleny relished in her family moment.

"I am so sorry for not being here for you," Cami pulled away frantically and looked to Klaus, "What's the progress? Are you-"

Much like she'd done with Hayley, Maleny raised her hand for Cami to stop, "It's a wedding day and I don't want to keep talking about this. Please?"

Cami was momentarily surprised by the calmness in Maleny's tone, but she supposed after days of processing what happened to her Maleny was finally just going on to stage two: trying to live as normally as possible.

"Okay," Cami turned to the others, "So what do we do now?"

"We prepare for the wedding, that's what," Maleny announced with a clap of her hands, ushering everyone to get a move on, "Hayley, there's something Rebekah and I have to show you but since Rebekah is out helping Kol, it's up to me."

Hayley looked up from Hope with a curious face, "Well, what is it?"

"Right this way, Miss Marshall," Maleny left for the stairs, leaving Hayley to follow.

Cami watched after them while the others also began to dissipate. She waited Maleny to be long gone before she went after Klaus in the ballroom, "How's she doing?"

"Mal did just say the day was for Hayley's wedding," Klaus remarked with his usual sarcasm.

"Brother," Elijah called in his sharp tone that expressed irritation. He walked into the ballroom and stopped beside Cami, putting a hand on her shoulder, "She's been gone for days, tell her what she needs to know."

Klaus rolled his eyes at their dramaticness but nonetheless answered, "She's...better. She's not entirely there yet but I believe there's been progress."

"Based on having her coordinate a wedding?" Cami made a face, clearly unimpressed with the idea.

"Well, she has managed not to thrash anymore furniture pieces," Klaus smiled at them, amused at the faces both made.

"She thrashed furniture?" Cami blinked and looked at Elijah, "This is why I need to know things, you see!"

"Cami, she's fine," Klaus tried to say but Cami wasn't having it.

"She's not fine, Klaus!" the blonde snapped, "She's stuck in some body because your brother put her there! How the hell can she be fine-"

And now it was Klaus who lost it. He wasn't going to stand there and let some woman basically tell him he wasn't doing his job. "Do you think I not know that!?" he replied in a shout, startling her enough to have Elijah shift into a protective stance beside her, "I'm not an idiot, Camille, of course I know everything isn't fine with her! But the fact remains I don't know what to do at this moment! Forgive me for trying to bring in a little happiness into her life in the meantime I get a clue as to how to help her."

While Cami remained silent, unsure of how to respond, Elijah moved forwards, "We understand how difficult the matter is but-"

"You don't know!" Klaus snapped, growing more angry as the two tried to 'imagine' what it was like for him and Maleny at the moment. The more he thought about it the more furious he became, "Do not stand there and say you 'understand' because absolutely no one could understand! Do you know what it's like to stand in front of Maleny and tell her that I will figure it out while she is sobbing on the floor? Do you?" Elijah and Cami shared a silent look, defeated. Klaus' eyes landed on Cami for a minute, "I don't need a reminder that this is my family's fault," he coldly told her, "It's always been like that…but I will not allow you to assume that I have no care for Maleny's condition. Next time, I will forget who you are, Camille, and act."

~ 0 ~

"What are we doing, Mal?" Hayley relentlessly questioned as the brunette opened up her closet's doors. She had placed Hope on Maleny's bed while she remained at its side.

"Rebekah and I managed to find you a little something," Maleny chuckled as she pulled out a white bag from the floor of her closet. "Well, I say, me and her, but really I have no head for many things right now."

Hayley raised an eyebrow, "And just what is that little something? And remember, there's a baby present," she pointed a finger to Hope.

Maleny rolled her eyes and walked back to the two, pulling out a long, white laced wedding dress from the bag, "Ta-da! We absolutely refuse to let you get married in skinny jeans and combat boots," Hayley was awed by the beauty of the dress as she took it into her hands. Maleny took a seat on the bed and put Hope on her lap, both watching the brunette hybrid went over to the mirror to see the dress.

"Thank you," Hayley whispered minutes later, "It's beautiful."

"Well, it's actually one of Rebekah's. She's technically the only woman alive who's commissioned wedding dresses in five different centuries."

"And you?" Hayley looked back, startling Maleny with the question.

"Me?" Maleny blushed and pretended to play with Hope, "Wh-why would you ask me that?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Hayley sauntered back with the dress pressed against her body as she pretended to dance out in a waltz, "...could be because you've been living a love-story cycle for centuries?"

Maleny scoffed and fiddled with Hope's hand as she spoke to the baby, "I sure hope your mummy tells you better fairy tale stories than the ones she's read."

Hayley rolled her eyes and laid her dress on the bed, "C'mon, you're telling me a woman who knows how to throw a wedding like this one has never actually made it to the aisle?"

"I've never even been proposed to, Hayley," Maleny looked back at the brunette with a dim smile, "There was never time for such a thing. Either I was sacrificed first or Klaus had to run away because of Mikael. Either way, I ended up dead anyways. No weddings whatsoever."

"But what about now?" Hayley took a seat on the bed close to Maleny, wearing a mischievous smile, "I mean, you're kinda here to stay and I hear Klaus is like-" she took on a stereotypical teenage girl's voice, "-pretty into you," she dramatically rolled her eyes.

Maleny laughed for the first time a genuine laughter, "Hayley! What was that!?"

"What? I'm only saying," Hayley reached over to tickle Hope, "You can be Hope's new stepmom."

Maleny laughed lighter and blushed, shaking her head, "Honestly, Hayley, does Klaus look like the marrying type to you?"

"Up until you showed up I didn't consider him more than my one-night stand," Hayley shrugged then made a face, "It would be kinda weird seeing him at the end of the aisle…"

"It's even weirder imagining him actually getting down on the one knee," Maleny shook her head again, "I doubt that's gonna happen. Once upon a time, when were humans, things were far more simple but now...I honestly doubt that would happen. Besides, if you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly myself right now," she gestured to her current body, "and until that's resolved I have no mind for anything else."

Hayley nodded, able to agree on that term. She looked back at her dress and ran a hand down through it, "Thank you for the dress - and for my wedding."

"You're welcome," Maleny smiled at her, "We're family after all. I mean, you may be marrying Jackson Kenner of the boozy backwater Kenners, but you're still my family. Though if Rebekah was here she'd tell you you were a Mikaelson."

Hayley's eyebrows raised up as she laughed, "And then I would say it's a nice compliment if only it didn't link me to so many homicidal lunatics."

"Why do you think I'm still Maleny Rowan?" Maleny pretended to raise an arm in question.

"Good call," Hayley took Hope from Maleny and set her on her lap, "Take a good look baby girl," she poke to the baby and pointed at Maleny, "Cos I guarantee you by the next year you'll have your brand new step-mommy," she waved Hope's small hand who giggled in response.

"Hayley!" Maleny cried, mortified yet still laughing.

"Maleny Mikaelson - has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Hayley continued to speak to Hope whilst ignoring Maleny's pleads to stop.

~ 0 ~

In her room, Cami sat on a rest chair sifting through her leather journal. On a whim thought, she reached for a pen on the table beside her and began to jot down some notes. She'd ignored her psychology work for as long as possible and now she thought it was probably the only thing that could make everything feel less...weird than it all was. Maybe it was time to get back on that. The knock on her open door made her sigh and look up from her journal, unsurprised to find Elijah waiting there.

"I know I have to apologize," she said her first thought as she assumed she knew what Elijah wanted from her at the moment, "but to be fair, Klaus owes me for many more things than he can count."

"Why don't we simply let the ordeal go?" Elijah suggested and came forwards, his eyes happily trailing the journal he gifted her. He liked seeing it was being put to use.

Cami followed his gaze and closed the journal, sheepishly smiling, "What did you need, Elijah?"

"I was wondering if you had already picked out something for the wedding tonight."

Cami raised an eyebrow and put her journal on her table before leaning back on her chair, "To be frank, I've got nothing. I've never actually been to a wedding, so I thought it might just be best for me not to attend. Besides, someone has to take care of Hope."

"Yes, and Amarrah has already volunteered herself for the task," Elijah informed as he reached down for Cami's hand, startling her as she was pulled to her feet, "and believe me when I say you will have absolutely no trouble acquiring your dress for tonight."

It took a minute to process what was happening but once Cami was led out of her room she was almost there, "Where are we going?"

"I figured you may have dressing problems so I went ahead and found a solution," Elijah looked at her with a broad smile, "An easy solution."

"And that would be…?"

Elijah came up to a closed room and promptly opened the doors to an old closet-like room. It was filled with ornamented boxes of all sizes, chests as well. Cami slowly stepped inside while Elijah went straight to large chests set on tables at the end of the room.

"Now these are Rebekah's gowns - some of them aren't even touched," Elijah explained as he opened one chest to reveal dozens of gowns inside, "Sometimes she was simply obsessed with having the 'best of the best' she forgot the most important thing: to wear them."

Cami was in awe at all the trinkets and chests around them. She had never seen so many things from the past - not even a museum could compete with this!

"Still, that's only better for you," Elijah had continued talking without noticing Cami's reactions, "There's plenty of gowns from which you can pick."

Cami met his look once he turned around, "Your family are packrats…" was the first thing that came to mind.

Elijah silently smiled, "I would think the same…"

"I mean it," Cami gaped as she walked by an old-fashioned phone, "Who the hell keeps a phone around?"

Elijah shrugged, really having no answer for that one. He gestured for her to look at the chests instead, "Feel free to try on as many as you'd like."

"Wow…" Cami reached in and touched a lavender gown, "...these are beautiful. I feel bad just touching them - you want me to wear one?"

"Yes. Don't worry, I hear Maleny has already come in to choose her own." Elijah nodded, slowly reaching for her hand on her side, "And, you know, it would be lovely if you would...accompany me to the wedding as a…"

"Date…?" Cami was already getting flustered with the idea, but it didn't strike her bad.

"I don't mind if you call it anything else, as long as you say 'yes' and be there with me," Elijah held their hands together between them.

The smile that broke across Cami's lips was something she couldn't contain, "O-okay...yeah," she nodded.

"Excellent," Elijah let her hand go and backtracked from her, "I'll leave you to get ready, then."

"See you then," Cami wiggled her fingers and chuckled as he returned the gesture. Once he was gone, she turned to the chests once more, utterly confused as to where to start with the gowns.

~ 0 ~

Later that night, while everyone was getting ready, Maleny was pulling out another shopping bag from her closet when someone knocked on her door. She looked back and smiled upon seeing Alton - the wolf man wearing a suit and neatly groomed.

"Wow," Maleny turned over, smiling, "you clean up well, you know. Yamilet's one lucky gal."

Alton bashfully smiled and came forwards, "You look amazing too," he gestured to her current gown.

It was a gold and beige tulle maxi dress with subtle sequins and beads forming vintage floral designs over it. The rest of the beds were scattered down on the skirt. It had a high neckline with ruffled, short sleeves. Her hair had been curled and left down. Around her neck was her golden necklace hanging freely.

Maleny looked down with a temporal smile, "Well, you're a little biased. This is your girlfriend's body so of course you'll think it looks good."

"I know this wasn't Yamilet's idea because she hates gold," Alton informed and made Maleny nervous for a minute, her hand placing itself over her chest, "But you look good, trust me,' Alton added with a comic laugh.

Maleny relaxed and smiled once more, "Thank you. It's difficult trying to find something for a body you don't own."

"So, has there been word from that estranged Mikaelson witch?"

Maleny pursed her lips together and shook her head, "No, and frankly I don't expect anything out of that woman. Nothing coming out of her mouth can be trusted."

"But she said she would help and she did look pretty honest to me."

"She can say what she wants but I just don't trust her if she's working with Finn. She's a complete stranger."

Alton couldn't disagree there and gave a shrug, "Well, maybe Amarrah can figure it out."

Maleny gave a slight nod and sighed, "I don't mean to be rude but can we please just avoid any of this body swap thing today? I don't...I don't want to talk about it."

Alton nodded, "Yes, um, so how about that groom, then? I bet he's having cold feet. You think he'd mind me helping out?"

"Not a bit. Jackson's a pretty good guy," Maleny gestured Alton to go ahead and seek Jackson, "He's across the courtyard."

Alton gave his thanks and headed out. After a minute or so, Maleny grabbed her shopping bag and headed out herself. She came into Hayley's room where Amarrah was now looking after Hope in the meantime Hayley got herself ready.

"Where's Hayley?" Maleny asked once she entered.

Amarrah looked up from Hope, both sitting at Hayley's bed, "She went out to see how Jackson was doing."

Maleny made a face, "Isn't that against the rules?"

"Not when it's a Unification ritual," Amarrah shrugged and fiddled with Hope until her eyes saw the bag on the bed, "What's with the bag?"

Maleny smiled widely, "A little present for the most adorable baby in the house," she took a seat beside Hope who was busy playing with a small teddy bear.

"She's the only baby in the house," Amarrah reminded with a sharp look.

"And the most adorable," Maleny insisted and tickled Hope.

Amarrah rolled her eyes and got up from the bed, "Can you look after her for a moment? I promised Rebekah I'd keep calling in to give tips for her and Kol."

"Of course," Maleny happily took Hope into her arms while Amarrah rushed off. Hope giggled as Maleny playfully used the teddy bear to tickle her stomach, "I think we should get you ready, don't you think? If only you were walking then you could be the beautiful flower girl. Hold on, are there flower girls in Unification marriages?"

Hope was staring at her with big blue eyes, only toothlessly smiling in return. Maleny chuckled and reached over for the shopping bag, "Either way, you'll be the cutest guest out there."

It was about ten minutes later that someone entered the room, "Mal? Maleny? Where the hell have you gotten into?"

"Hey, watch your tongue around your daughter," Maleny scolded Klaus as he came inside. She picked up the newly dressed Hope and giggled, "Okay, so I know Hayley said 'no pink' buuuut…" she turned around and allowed Klaus to see Hope in a pretty pink dress complete with a pink and white bow and white shoes, "...she has to make an exception for this right? Doesn't she look adorable?"

Hope gurgled as her small hands flapped over her head in an attempt to grab the bow. Klaus reached over to take his daughter into his arms, and sure enough, he agreed, "What has Mal done to you, Hope?"

"Hey," Maleny pretended to pout, "She said it was alright. She agreed she would look good in pink. Though I told her she'd look good in any color."

"Gets that from me, you know," Klaus flashed her a smirk.

Maleny rolled her eyes and fixed a part of Hope's hair, "She also agreed her father was a conceited man," she rose her gaze to meet Klaus' with her own smirk, "At which point I also agreed."

Klaus' smirk died at that moment. He followed Hope's leans to the bed and picked up her toy bear, "Good to see you're better, Mal," he remarked a minute later.

"Better, better, no," Maleny clarified first, "but I don't...I don't want to talk about it. I just want one regular day. One regular wedding - well, one regular Unification wedding. I don't want anything sad to come up."

"That sounds fair, and it's going to be like that, I promise," Klaus turned back to her with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you," Maleny thanked quietly. However her expression did say there was some doubt that could actually happen.

"I'm assuming you'll be down with the rest of the wolves in the ceremony?"

Maleny gave a small nod, "Yeah, sorry. You can sit next to me if you'd like?"

"Mm, best not. The wolves aren't quite fond of me," Klaus shook his head, "I'll stay a little farther away. But my eyes will always be on you my dear."

Maleny smiled. "Well, Alton is going to be with me and before you get any funny ideas in that dusty head of yours-"

"Dusty?" Klaus frowned, having to interject.

"Over a thousand years old - it's time to face it," Maleny laughed, "But like I was saying, Alton is going to be next to me and I want to clarify that he is not going to be a date for me. I'd rather not find him dead, or...with his head ripped off?" she tilted her head and had a knowing look on her face, "Much like the ones a little someone did earlier in the day? Care to explain?"

"Well first of all, that someone was not so little, and second of all what is there to explain?" Klaus shrugged and pretended to fiddle with Hope, "It was a wedding present."

"Your ideas of presents are way different than anyone else I've met," Maleny sighed and moved closer to him and Hope, "But, I guess, thank you - I heard one of those wolves was one of the three that attacked Alton and I. The girl?"

"I don't see why Alton couldn't have done what was needed to do be done at the moment," Klaus informed, still irritated with the issue.

Maleny chuckled, "Not everyone strikes to kill. But he did a good job protecting me."

Klaus scoffed, "Right."

Maleny began smiling as she saw traces of jealousy in his face, "For the love of God, why on earth would you be jealous? You're both doing the same thing and I thank you for that."

"Yes, but I'm the one who will be protecting you better," Klaus almost warned with the tone he used, "I will do what it takes."

"Believe me, I know that. And, if I wasn't in someone else's body right now you'd receive a very gracious kiss."

"That wasn't a bother in the previous dozen times," Klaus innocently reminded her.

"That's because I didn't know I wasn't in my body," Maleny reminded as well, "And I will respect this body for as long as I'm inhabiting it. She has a boyfriend, Klaus," she spoke softer once he rolled his eyes in mild irritation, "and he loves her very much."

"Fine," he grumbled, "but if he tries anything with you know that you will find his body missing the head."

Maleny laughed and took Hope from him, "I'll be sure to pass on the message. But I'm sure he's on the same page as we are. But you know who is immune to the rule?"

"Who?"

"Hope," she kissed Hope's head. Hope responded with a giggle and a random happy bite of her teddy bears ear.

"She's very lucky then," Klaus remarked quietly, wearing a warm smile.

Maleny looked at him and leaned forwards to kiss his cheek, "You can get one of those as much as you want, though," she rubbed her finger over his cheek to remove the smudge of lipstick she left behind.

While it didn't necessarily fill Klaus' desires he took it with a smile, "It's temporal, okay? I'll fix it, and I'll-"

Maleny placed a finger over his lips, "I don't want to talk about it, remember? It's a wedding day and a fun wedding I shall have. Okay?"

Klaus took down her hand into his and nodded, "Yes, of course," he kissed her hand afterwards, "and I've failed to mention you look beautiful tonight."

Maleny felt butterflies under his gaze, "I'm glad you like it. It belonged to Rebekah-"

"Yes, I remember her babbling on about how much she wanted this dress. And do you know what happened after she bought it?"

"Mmm?"

"She never wore it!"

Maleny laughed again, shaking her head. "That sounds like Rebekah, alright."

"But," Klaus brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed its back, "I think it was just waiting for the right woman to wear it."

Blushing, Maleny shook her head. "I hardly think it was waiting for a cursed woman to wear it. Do you know how difficult it was to cover up the fact I carry a mark near my clavicle? They just don't make those sorts of dresses anymore," she feigned a sigh. "But anyways, I think it's time we get you ready too. Black suit?"

"You can pick. I'm all yours, darling," he whispered in her ear, causing chills up her spine.

"I hate you," she mumbled and yanked him out of the room, ignoring his laughter.

~ 0 ~

"Clean up nice," Gia remarked as she stepped up beside Cami, both overlooking the ballroom that was slowly being filled up by the wedding guests.

Cami, who wore a long, sleeveless, baby blue gown with a high neckline and laced bodice, glanced at Gia with a bashful smile, "Thanks…"

"Gotta say though," Gia put a hand on Cami's arm, her eyes trailing the clearly expensive gown, "I didn't think psychology students had enough to afford it…

Cami cleared her throat and pushed her short, curled hair back, "I know, I know, it's way out of my league."

Gia lightly laughed, "I think it looks good on you, though. Love the color."

"Well I think you look great too," Cami looked over her friend's short, dark purple dress.

"I did my best," Gia pretended to pose and made Cami laugh. Gia ran a hand through her long, dark hair and dramatically sighed, "But you know, being a violinist doesn't make a lot of money. Still, I try."

Cami looked at Gia for a good minute before saying, "You're so dramatic," and both women shared a laugh.

"Camille," Elijah's voice made the two women sober up from their laughter. Once he saw the blonde vampire, he was awed.

Gia looked between the two with amusement, wondering which one would break the silence. Hoping to speed it up, she cleared her throat and excused herself, "I'll see you after the ceremony, Cami," she gave Cami a side hug and a polite smile to Elijah before leaving.

"You look wonderful," Elijah praised Cami's gown, the crooked smile on his face making Cami's breath hitch in her throat.

"Thanks," Cami looked down at her dress for a minute, "Rebekah has amazing taste in clothing. But I still stand by the packrat statement - that applies to all of you."

Amused, Elijah chuckled, "Maybe you can help us clear some things out, then."

"So, where are you going to sit at?" Cami sheepishly asked and looked out to the guests.

"I was thinking of a much better view," Elijah raised a finger to the balcony of the courtyard, "Care to accompany?"

Cami nodded and allowed him her hand, "Let's."

~ 0 ~

"This is too weird," Maleny whispered to Alton as they took their seats for the wedding. "Everybody is looking at me - aren't they supposed to be staring at the incoming bride?"

Alton chuckled, but didn't try to at least make it seem like she was wrong. It was difficult to hide the fact that many of the guests were casting her, and sometimes Alton, odd looks, as well as those awed. Maleny knew she was probably the talk of the wolf century - she had taken over the body of one of their own because of Finn Mikaelson. She, a witch, stealing mortal lifetime from a woman?

"Mal?" they heard a distinctive voice behind them. Maleny turned around to find Davina, looking quite pretty in her short dress, and who was staring right at her. "Mal…?"

Maleny knew Davina hadn't yet seen her newest body and was unsure if she was addressing the right witch-in-a-werewolf body. Though still mildly crossed with Davina for their past differences, Maleny spoke to the teen calmly.

"It's me," Maleny confirmed, and just as Davina's eyes teared up she quickly added, "And please can we skip the sad part about this? I told everyone I wanted this to be a good day."

"Okay," Davina agreed and swallowed down her tears. But that didn't stop her from abruptly hugging Maleny, "I promise I'll help Amarrah in anyway that I can. I'm sorry for everything and I'm-"

Maleny smiled warmly and hugged the teen back, "It's okay. I told you, now that you have something with Kol you'll understand my situation better. But for now, please," she pulled away, "let's just enjoy the wedding, yeah?"

Davina nodded and looked down, shyly asking, "Can I...sit next to you guys?"

"Of course," Maleny gestured for her to follow after Alton and her, "And by the way, that's Alton," Davina sheepishly shook hands with Alton, "He's the boyfriend of the actual woman of this body."

"Complicated," Alton shrugged. Davina agreed and chuckled, meanwhile Maleny took her seat between the two.

The ceremony soon began, the orchestra played and the bride and groom walked down the aisle. They separated at the two staircases to go up to the balcony. Jackson's grandmother, Mary, waited at the end of the balcony to conduct the ceremony.

"Please, be seated," Mary instructed the guests once Hayley and Jackson had reached the altar, "We gather together as a community seeking peace, inspired by this couple standing before you. There was a time when werewolves saw themselves not as cursed, but blessed with connection to our most pure selves. And tonight, we honor that blessing with the long-awaited unification of the two Crescent bloodlines," Mary bonded their wrists together with baby's breath flowers, "In doing so, we choose to embrace Hayley's vampire nature. With this union, Hayley will share her unique gifts with her pack," she long lit match into the pair's hands so they could light their ceremonial candle, "And now, your vows."

Jackson tool a deep breath as he went first, "I pledge to honor you and defend you and yours above all others."

"To share in blessings and burdens. To be your advocate, your champion," continued Hayley.

"To be your comfort, your sanctuary, and for as long as we both shall live."

"To be your family."

The pair smiled at each other as they lighted their candle together.

Mary looked at the pair proudly, "You two have endured all the traditional werewolf rituals and trials. There is only one remaining. Jackson, you may kiss your bride."

While Jackson was afraid to do so Hayley lightly laughed until he took a deep breath and went for it. As they pulled away from their kiss, both their eyes glowed golden signifying the Unification Ceremony worked. With a smile, they looked out to the guests and saw the same thing happening.

Davina was smiling as the guests happily cheered for their victory. She was a little startled (even releasing a little 'oh!' in the process) when she saw Maleny's eyes glowing bright golden just like them.

Maleny looked in awe as she raised a hand to her face. "This feels weird…" She could actually feel all the new strength and power cursing through her blood and veins.

Up above, across the courtyard, stood Klaus on his own, watching the guests chattering happily. His eyes were trained on Maleny though, relieved to see her stronger than ever. She would not be such an easy target for Finn or anyone else anymore. Best of all, she would feel safe and secure.

~ 0 ~

As the party went on out in the courtyard and partially on the street, things seemed like they couldn't get better. The wolves were more than happy to show off their new abilities to their friends. The vampire guests were the only slightly nervous from the new advantages gained. Still, for the time being, things were mellow. How long that would last no one knew.

Part of the courtyard had been converted to a dance floor for the guests, and at the center were the bride and groom. At the side stood Cami, Elijah and Klaus, all drinking and simply watching the festivities.

"Oh my God I have to teach her how to dance," Cami was making faces as she watched her friend Gia across the room, happily dancing with Marcel.

"The therapist teaching dance moves?" Klaus raised an eyebrow, "There's something I'd pay to see."

Cami snapped her head to the hybrid, mocking a glare, "You never paid me for any sessions you compelled me to give you. Getting money out of you would be a miracle."

"It's possible," Elijah then spoke up, keeping a straight face, "If you're blonde...and Maleny."

Cami snickered while Klaus openly glared at his brother, "Amusing," he muttered.

And as if she had heard her name, Maleny rushed up to the trio looking happier than ever, "You all need to quit standing there like hawks and come out to dance! It's so much fun!"

Cami looked as if she were trying to decide on something, "Are you drunk? Cos you said 'hawks'..."

"She's not drunk," Klaus answered before Maleny could.

Maleny giggled and threw her arms around his neck abruptly, startling him with the action, "I'm not!" she agreed, "I'm just so happy! Happy! Happy! Happy!"

"We hadn't noticed," Klaus sarcastically replied, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"I feel so strong now!" Maleny explained to him, her hands moving to his face, "Like I can take on the world or something. Is this how you feel all the time?"

"More or less," Klaus chuckled at her and handed his drink to Elijah before Maleny could spill it with her jumpy movements.

"It is amazing!"

"Maleny you realize this body is only a temporal situation for you, right?" Elijah cautiously asked her for fear in the midst of all the novelty she'd forgotten her situation. He, and unknowingly to him, and Cami silently agreed this could very well be Maleny entering a sort of re-denial stage of her situation.

Maleny looked at him with her wide smile, "I know that. I'm just actually having fun."

"Well, may I intrude on this fun by asking you to accompany me for Hope?" Klaus took her hands off his face and let go of one, "I think it's time she joined the party."

Maleny nodded, "Of course!" the two promptly walked off to retrieve the baby upstairs.

Cami watched after her cousin with mild concern, something Elijah didn't miss, "You need not worry," he told her as he set his and Klaus' glasses on a nearby table behind them, "It seems Maleny is pushing through."

"You can't fault me for being scared of a relapse," the blonde quietly said and looked at him.

"It won't happen," Elijah assured her and held a hand out for her, "Would you like to dance, Camille?"

Cami's surprised quickly made itself known on her face, "Are you sure?"

"Are you doubting my dancing skills?"

"No, it's just...these are fast songs, Elijah. You don't exactly look like the kind of guy to dance willy nilly."

"There are many things you don't know about me, Camille," Elijah flashed her a wide smile, still holding his hand out.

"Alright, then show me," Cami felt confident and took his hand.

Elijah accepted the near challenge with a nod, "I will," he said back and led her towards the dance floor.

~ 0 ~

As Klaus and Maleny made their way towards Hayley's room where Amarrah had Hope, Maleny continued babbling on about the party.

"And you should see Alton and his crazy dancing!" she laughed, "He tried to teach me but it was so weird I couldn't!"

"Fantastic," Klaus said in total, his face blank of any excitement.

"And you should also see what he drinks! He mixes up all these concoctions and drinks them like nothing!" Maleny continued on like nothing, "He's such a fun guy! I can see why Yamilet likes him."

"Perhaps you're liking him a little too much," Klaus declared in his quiet, yet sharp, tone.

Maleny looked at him with a knowing smirk, "I do like him," she agreed, "but as a friend as I have already stated."

"That's not what it appears downstairs…"

Maleny rolled her eyes and moved in front of him, forcing him to stop, "You are more than welcomed to take me out on a dance when we get back downstairs," she draped her arms over his shoulders.

"I don't intend on making a fool of myself out there," he warned her seriously.

She giggled, "I didn't think you would you jealous moron. If I wasn't in this body I'd calm all that jealousy with a kiss - much like you used to do in the past, remember?"

"Of course," he nodded, "You were always so jealous of everyone. I had to practically snog you all day."

"Poor you," she mocked him with a pout then laughed as she backed them towards Hayley's room.

"Yes, poor me," he kept with the game, "I had to cancel important plans sometimes."

"Mm, sometimes you cancelled those just so you could be with me, remember?" she smirked, "Don't pin this all on my 'jealousy'. You wanted to be with me."

"This conversation has moved to a completely different topic," he declared after a moment or so.

Maleny laughed and stopped them near the room, "Because I'm telling you all your truths, of course."

"Nonsense," Klaus dismissed her and strode into the room for Hope. Maleny rolled her eyes and hurried in after him, containing in her smirk of knowledge.

~ 0 ~

After several dances, Maleny and Klaus returned to the party, Klaus holding Hope in his arms. He motioned the band to stop playing before he spoke out to the guests.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please? Hayley, if you would join me, I would like to propose a toast."

Though surprised, Maleny nodded for Hayley to come over. As the brunette hybrid did, Maleny walked away to give the trio their space for their speech. She took a seat with Alton and Davina instead.

"I want to welcome you all. As you know, last spring, Hayley and I had a daughter. Due to tragic circumstance, she was lost. Now, she has returned home. Her name is Hope," Klaus explained just as Hayley took the baby into her arms, "She will live here among you, her pack. Her family. We implore you... protect our daughter," he grabbed a glass from a nearby tray, "Teach her. Love her, as one of your own. Jackson, I invite you and your bride to live here, uniting your proud and noble people in peace. Welcome to the family, mate. To Jackson and Hayley!"

As various guests clapped for the bride and groom, others were left a little confused.

"Funny, I never knew Klaus was the home offering type," Cami remarked to Elijah beside her, both two of the nonclapping guests.

"He's not," Elijah clarified. The two shared a quizzical look between them, agreeing there was probably something more to Klaus' sudden kindness.

~ 0 ~

The party had slowly began to lose its guests as the time passed by. Even then, there were some guests that wouldn't give up on their fun. However, Rebekah, still in her new witch body, appeared at the compound looking for her brothers.

"Elijah," she had found him and Cami first, but for the first couple of minutes was unrecognized by them, "It's me - Rebekah."

"Wow," was the first thing that came out of Cami's mouth.

Rebekah gave a small smile, but the matter was worse and it soon faded, "We need to go. Kol...he's not getting better. Where's Klaus?"

Elijah and Cami walked Rebekah to Hope's nursery where Klaus was looking after her for the moment. Feeling their presence, he turned to them questioning what they wanted.

"It's Kol. I couldn't help him," Rebekah guiltily explained, "He's not gonna last the night. We need to go."

Klaus looked back at Hope in her crib, the baby refusing to sleep just then. Cami walked up and smiled, "I can look after her," she volunteered and picked the baby up, "You guys go. She'll be fine."

Elijah looked guilty as well, for this is not how he had imagined their first, basic date to end at, "Cami, I'm-"

"Go," Cami insisted, nodding for them to hurry up. She didn't look at all displeased with the day, "Mal's downstairs if you wanted her," she told Klaus but he shook his head.

"I promised her she would have her normal wedding day and I intend on seeing that through," he said assuredly. He'd seen her chatting with Alton just before coming upstairs and she still seemed to be having the time of her life. He didn't want to ruin it just like it always had been.

"Okay," Cami agreed, "I'll make up something if she happens to ask, then," when she saw hesitancy from the two brothers, "Go! Kol's waiting for you guys!"

With nothing left to do, the three siblings went off to the cemetery where Kol was nearing his end.

~ 0 ~

Finn was healed completely thanks to his sister Freya who spent a good portion of the day using spells to fade away all the burn marks Elijah caused him. He was sitting on the autopsy table catching his bearings, missing the disapproving face Freya had directly on him.

"What did you do?" he was awed.

"It took a while, but I healed you," Freya replied, her tone restrained, "Brought you back from death, using this," she pointed to the blue pendant talisman around his neck.

Finn quickly looked at the pendant, "Your pendant. You said it would protect me."

"It's a talisman used to focus my power. I knew it would be dangerous to face Elijah. But I specifically said to avoid confrontation, Finn," Freya tilted her head, finally letting out her disapproval. "In fact, I thought it was you that said there would be no fighting." Finn sighed. "Finn, I told you we needed to find Elijah because he knew where our niece was. You were supposed to talk to him and persuade him to willingly come to us so that I could explain something very important to the entire family."

"You haven't met our siblings, Freya. They are wild and-"

"It does not matter what type of people they are," Freya spoke over him, looking frustrated as she began to pace. "You don't understand, Finn, no one does. Esther was nothing compared to Dahlia. Dahlia is worse than the devil and you all need to understand the real reason she is coming."

"I assure you I understand perfectly well," Finn cut in, but did not ignore the loud sigh Freya gave in return. "I do, Freya!"

"No, you don't," Freya faced him with a glower.

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Because Esther herself didn't understand." Freya knew she was getting ahead of herself and took a deep breath in before she spoke again. "Listen, you failed to get Elijah back on good terms, and that just makes it harder for me now. I'll have to move on to the next step: getting Maleny Rowan back into her own body."

Finn's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Freya straightened up, looking determined than ever. "You heard me, Finn. I need the spell you used to make transfer of souls."

Finn studied her features for any trace of a joke, but was utterly confused to find none, "Freya, why…?"

Freya walked towards him, not pleased with the reluctance she was being met with, "To reverse it. What you did to her was cruel and-"

"And justified," Finn declared, still very much on his stance, "She sided with our siblings and it just so happens punishing her is a lot easier than our siblings."

Freya had a sharp look on her face as she crossed her arms, "Well then, we're going to have a problem because I promised him I would reverse the spell."

Finn straightened up and maintained himself against Freya. "And who's 'him' exactly? Don't think I haven't noticed your evasive attitude whenever I ask you. Tell me sister, what do you know that apparently the rest of the family doesn't?"

Freya stepped closer to him and very clearly told him, "That is a story for our brother Niklaus to hear first."

~ 0 ~

With the party long over, and now changed for sleep, Maleny resided in her bedroom with Hope. She'd offered herself to care of the baby, thinking a baby on a wedding night wasn't the most romantic thing so she assured Hayley she would take good care of Hope for the night. She had changed Hope for a good sleep and even brought along her favorite stuffed bear but the baby was in no mood to sleep.

Maleny had Hope in the middle of her bed with her pink blanket but the baby seemed far more interested in playing with her bear. Maleny sighed and leaned back on her headboard, "You are one tough baby," she remarked.

Hope gurgled in response, flashing a toothless grin afterwards. It was like she was basking in none of her relatives were looking over her. It was free rules and apparently aunt Maleny was not authoritative enough to lay down the law.

Shifting on her side to face the baby, she spoke in a hush tone, "What does it take to get you asleep, hm? What did aunt Bekah used to do?" Hope clutched her teddy bear and giggled, as if refusing to tell, "At this rate I'll fall asleep before you do…" she finished with droopy eyes, proving her words to be true.

"I can take her," Klaus' voice made Maleny raise her head to see the hybrid at the doorway.

"Where've you been?" Maleny tried not to sound like the demanding girlfriend that wanted to show at the moment, "I asked Cami and she refused to tell me the truth. Actually, she kept denying she was lying."

"Kol...died," Klaus replied to her question in a quiet voice, "Rebekah came in earlier to tell us there was nothing left to do…"

"Oh my God," Maleny's demands left her mind instantaneously. She quickly got up from the bed and met him halfway the room, "What happened? Why didn't...why didn't you tell me? I could've gone and…"

Klaus shook his head, still standing with his decision, "You were having your normal, fun wedding day and I...I couldn't take that from you."

Maleny playfully rolled her eyes at him, "Listen, that all gets cancelled when you need me. Kol and I may have had some disagreements since he came back but...he didn't deserve to die like this. I would've gone with you if you asked me to."

"I do know that," Klaus gave a weak smile and glanced at his daughter on the bed, still busily playing with her bear, "but I promised you your day."

Maleny hugged him tight, wishing she could have been there for him but she knew she should've known better. He did always keep his word, though sometimes it was in a twisted way, "Well, it's past midnight so my day is done," she pulled away, "What do you want to do?"

Klaus thought about that for a good while, and though his first thought was full of revenge against Finn he decided for a much calmer act instead. He looked at Maleny who'd been anxiously waiting for him to answer, "I'd like to hold my daughter right now."

Maleny slowly smiled, nodding her head as she turned for the bed, "If you can put her to sleep too that would be great. I promised Hayley I'd look after her but at the rate we're going Hope is going to put me to sleep first."

"I don't have much experience either," Klaus reminded as he went for Hope. Barely keeping in her yawn, Maleny followed to her place and sat down, watching him pick up Hope into his arms. He sat down on the other side of the bed and momentarily fiddled with Hope's hands.

"I know this is a stupid question but are you okay?" Maleny decided to go ahead and ask in the end, "How...how do you feel?"

"I feel like I want to rip Finn's head off," Klaus replied a mere second later.

"Understandable," Maleny agreed with a small nod, "I kind of want to too. But you know you can't face him without a proper plan, right? I don't want your impulsiveness to cloud your thinking."

"We'll get a plan," Klaus assured her, more like promised, "And it will work - that much I can promise to Kol."

Maleny reached to touch his arm, softly smiling at him, "And I can help now," she reminded him, "If I can get one use out of this body, it will be to help you. No more being babysat."

While Klaus didn't like to think about her actually getting fully involved in his family's plans - for the sake of her safety - he knew there would be no stopping her now that she had the strength and speed to do so. She learned her stubbornness from him, and that had no matter of ending.

#ocappreciation #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the originals fics #klaus mikaelson fics #klaus mikaelson imagines #the originals imagines #oc: Maleny Rowan #camlijah #fic: the girl in the forest

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