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theshelbyclan · 3 years

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Breathe in the air

Summary: Being a Shelby sister, it means you have a head for business and know how to handle yourself. Unfortunately, you struggle with asthma, but luckily Arthur is there to protect you always

A/N: The wonderful @psychkunox requested: Hi there, it's me first time requesting at your blog (I dunno why im nervous but yeah you're one of the blogs i've stan hard when i discovered the Shelby!reader fic hehe i really love ur writingss) So here is it. May i ask a request, a sister Shelby one, despite being a badass fighter the only flaw she have was having asthma. They went to a deal gone wrong one and the enemy start smoking them in and the brothers saying "do i(we) make ourselves clear?" to them. Touch up the gaps hehe Thank you in advanceee 😊💕 You had to wait quite a while for this one, and I hope you’ll be able to forgive me… You gave me lots of different snippets of a story and I tried to piece them all together. Also, I used to have asthma attacks myself when I was little, but it’s been a while now, so I hope this makes sense. Please let me know what you think!!

Words: 2403 *** 1914 ***

“I need them.” “No, you don’t, sweetheart…” “I do, Arthur,” you panted, “I fucking need…” But no other words came out. “No more than three words,” he said, turning to his brother, “it’s rough on her today.”

Nothing major had happened. It was simply another case of the fireplace not drawing properly. The chimney probably needed sweeping out, but they’d left it too long, and suddenly the mess inside it had collapsed. In seconds, the entire front room was covered in ash and soot. The Shelby’s brothers laughed, Aunt Polly cursed and Ada and Tommy left the room feeling more annoyed than entertained. Arthur had turned to you at once, knowing the last thing you needed was even more dust to clog your asthmatic lungs.

“What do we do?” John asked, looking at you with great concern, “Doesn’t she need her pills?” “No. We do nothing,” Arthur said in a surprisingly soft and gentle voice, “We breathe, calmly…” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, feeling panic rushing through your body, “Arthur?” “Breathe,” he repeated, “Breathe…” *** 1918 *** As you were walking home from work at the BSA, a few men were following you. This wasn’t unusual, this wasn’t new, and you knew what to do. First off, Polly taught you, avoid all walls, because someone could easily push you up against them or drag you away, before you could even scream. Secondly, stick to the busier roads and remember to be vigilant at all times. Thirdly, keep a hand on the dagger you had gotten for you 18thbirthday: it would keep you safe. There were about a thousand times more of these rules and tips, because being a woman sucked, and they went through your head one by one. Are they still there? You turned around slightly, without attracting attention to yourself. They were. Feel for the knife, Aunt Polly’s voice in your head was saying, is it still there? It was. As you quickened your pace, you realised they were doing the same thing. And then your breath got stuck in your throat and anxiety started to set in your body. Calm down, you told yourself, calm down. Just get home before they can notice anything.

You heard footsteps behind you. There was the rustling of coats and the clearing of throats. As fast as you could, you made your way passed the wharfs, but the smoke was making your vision blurry and you had to cough a few times. And still, you could feel the men breathing… And then your breathing started to change. It had increased steadily as your anxiety grew and now it felt like every breath provided you with less and less air. Your lungs were closing up as your eyes fogged over and sheer fear took over. Like a maniac you searched your brain for some bit of advice of Polly’s that might help here, but nothing came. So you frantically searched your pockets for the little tin of medicine, all the while running for safety, but in the chaos you dropped the pills as soon as you had pried the container open. For a second you froze. This is it, you thought. This is how I’m going to die. All around you there was nothing but smoke and the iron cage tightened itself around your chest with each breath. You wheezed and clawed at your blouse, but to no avail. Then the world was spinning. You heard their voices, but you could no longer tell from which direction they were coming. And then it all went still. *** 1910 *** “What’s wrong with her?” The doctor examined your chest once again, while you struggled to breathe. “What’s wrong with her?” little John’s voice sounded again. You heard Tommy sigh, “She can’t breathe…” “Why?” a high-pitched question followed at once. “She has a condition,” the doctor replied gravely, “she suffers from something we call ‘shortness of breath’.” “I get that,” Polly said shortly, “when I run up the stairs. What she has is different.” “It happens,” the doctor said in an uninterested voice, “there’s not much we can do. Keep her in bed. Make sure she doesn’t excite herself.” Polly barked a short laugh, “Have you met this one?“ “What about a cure?” Tommy spoke like he was the head of the family already. Again the doctor shrugged, “There isn’t one.” Then he began to pack up his things and made his way to the door, “Although there has been some success using stimulants, adrenaline and so on… but I’m not sure you could even get those in Birmingham…” “That’s useful, thank you doctor,” Aunt Polly practically hissed, “What about something that we can get?” “Maybe try some belladonna pills? Some believe they help…”

Your eyes flitted from family members to the doctor and even though you didn’t understand much, you knew it wasn’t going good. And then your oldest brother crouched down next to you. “How do you feel?” he asked softly. Slowly you tried to lift your head and whispered, “Remember… when I... tried to swim… across the Cut?” He nodded and smiled a little. “Like that,” you panted, feeling talking took all of your energy away from you, “Drowning. Without water.”

Tommy tapped Arthur on the shoulder and said, “I’m going to get the pills. Aunt Pol knows where.” “I’ll stay,” Arthur replied, “Wait with her.” “I can’t wait!” you squeaked in a panicky voice, “It hurts!” Then he took your hand and said, “Tom will get the pills, but in the meantime, you have to listen to me.” You were afraid, in a way you had never been afraid before, but tried to be calm just for Arthur’s sake. “There will come a time, when you won’t have the pills. And you will still feel bloody awful, just like right now,” he said, “So I need you to learn to be calm.” “But the doctor,” you protested, “he said… there’s no cure!” “There is!” Arthur urged, “Remember last year? Just calm down, sweetheart, calm down and breathe…” You tried to inhale a big gulp of air, but still it felt like only a little was going in, “I can’t!” you cried at once. “Breathe,” he repeated, “Here, we’ll do it together, alright?” You nodded. “Breathe in, now count to five: one, two, three, that’s it, hold your breath, four, five. Now breathe out and count again. And again…” Slowly, you started breathing with Arthur, while he was holding your hand and stroking your hair lovingly. “Breathe” he kept on saying, “breathe…” And eventually, it worked. *** 1918 *** And right then, in the middle of the smoke, you remembered Arthur. Breathe. You could hear his voice in the fog. And slowly you managed to calm yourself while breathing with him through the anxiety. Still, you had to get out of the smoke, with all the soot and city dirt clogging up your lungs. Ada was right; you needed to get out of the city. And then you realised the men were still following you. Except, now you weren’t scared anymore. As you rounded a corner, you stopped behind a wall and waited until they would pass you. You breathed in slowly while you waited, counted to five and there they came. Number one, you kicked in the balls and he doubled over at once. Number two nearly tripped over his friend, which gave you the opportunity to punch him square in the nose and break at least some bones. Number 3 was ready to fight, but by this time you had gotten your birthday present dagger out and decided to reverse all gender roles and push him up against the wall with the blade pressed against his throat.

“Miss,” he pleaded, hands held high, “wait…” “Miss, now, is it?” you replied. From the corner of your eye you could see the other two were getting up and approaching, so you warned, “Move and I’ll cut your friend here.” One scoffed, “I find that hard to believe…” “Yeah? Why’s that?” you questioned lightly. And then he came even closer and hissed in your ear, “Pretty little girl like you? Who do you even think you are?” Now it wasn’t so much what he was saying, it was simply the fact of him breathing in your ear that really annoyed you. And so you turned around swiftly and punched him in the throat, simply to stop the breathing. “My name is Shelby.” *** 1919 ***

Ever since your brothers were back from France, things had changed. The name Shelby had always had an effect on people around Small Heath, but now your reputation grew with each passing week. You were no longer a small child and demanded your place at the table at family meetings. After all, Polly was right, you women did run this entire operation while the boys were away in France. You’d learned how to do business, how to handle yourself and most of all, how to handle others. You’d inherited Tommy’s eye for business and Polly’s common sense, with just a hint of Arthur’s ruthlessness.

Tommy figured quite quickly, that if he wanted to climb and become part of the big, sometimes even legal, businesses, he had to have class. Now, he and his brothers were smart and capable, but they could never quite charm anyone into doing business with them. Their talents were limited to extortion, intimidation and bribery. This is where you came in. It’s not that you were any less working class, it was the simple fact that you were easy to look at. You hated it, but there it was. So a few months after the war had ended, you were sitting in on a business meeting. Some Irishmen were importing whiskey as well and Tommy had decided it’d be much better for the Shelby family if they would simply buy yours. “Mr. Shelby, I don’t think I quite understand…” Tommy lit a cigarette and said, “I think you understand me perfectly. On the one hand, you could continue importing your own stuff, but with the added risk of being detected by a new copper in town who appears to have taken a special interest in you Irish boys. Or, you let me take care of the risk and have the goods simply delivered to your door.” The man fiddled with a box of matches for a second, “What about appearances, Mr. Shelby. I have to consider how it looks…” “You mean to do business with a cutthroat gangster?” he asked in a low voice. Again, he seemed nervous and stumbled, “Well… yes.” “You won’t be doing business with a cutthroat gangster,” you interrupted and caught the eye of the Irishman sitting directly opposite you, “You’ll be doing business with Shelby Company Limited. We’re a real legitimate firm and you needn’t worry about appearances. If it’s of any consolation to you, I’ll come and oversee the delivery of the first batch personally.” And with that you sat back with a slightly triumphant but cocky face.

“I’ve heard stories about you Shelby’s…” the man protested weakly, “Of murder and carnage…”

“You think I’d slash throats?” you asked innocently with a small smile, “I’m a businesswoman, mister, not some gangster.”

Tommy took another drag of his cigarette and shot an amused look in your direction. He was sitting almost at the opposite side of the room. Why? Because he was smoking, as you knew he would have to during meetings like these, but didn’t want to bother you with it. “My sister is right,” Tommy cleared his throat, “she’s in charge of business. Me and my brothers are in charge of protection, however.” And with that, he got nervous again. For a few moments, it seemed like he was about to run out. But then John spoke up, “Just sign right here and all will be arranged, alright? No need to worry about anything…” Sweating a little, the man lit a cigarette and signed. And suddenly, he seemed to get angry, saying, “You Shelby’s think you can just take anything…” “We’re not takinganything,” you sighed, “you just signed a business deal, that is all.” You coughed a little, which made Arthur’s eyes shoot into your direction at once, “And would you mind not smoking in here?”

But the man smirked and took another drag on his cigarette “You’re just a pretty face, aren’t you, think you can tell me what to do?” “I can,” you tried desperately to keep your composure, but the familiar tightening feeling in your lungs made it harder and harder to, “Now take your things and get out.” “You heard her,” Arthur practically growled, “get out.” And then he leaned forward and blew smoke right into your face. Immediately you started coughing, no matter how hard you tried not making a scene. At once, John jumped up and smashed the man’s head into the table. Even with blurry vision, you could see Tommy was seething as well and at the man’s side in seconds. But Arthur was the one who had quickly picked you and carried you outside. Fresh air was a relative concept in Small Heath, but being outside did help. Mainly it was Arthur, who kept on telling you to calm down. Together you counted to five, again and again, until you felt less like drowning and more calm. “Is this why?” you eventually asked, “Is this why you never wanted me to take my medicine?”

“No,” he sighed, “I just remember seeing you for the first time, coughing and choking, and it bloody scared me. I remember thinking: what if we can’t afford the medicine at some point? And then the war came and bombs were falling and I was imagining you somewhere, and I thought: I’m glad she knows how to count to five…” You had to laugh, “I learned how to count to five quite a while ago, Arthur.” “I wasn’t always going to be there, I mean. You know what I mean…” “I know what you mean,” you smiled at him. And then your brothers exited the Garrison and crouched down next to you. “Are you alright?” John asked. “The deal’s off,” Tommy said, which was basically him voicing his concerns, which was good enough for you. “Fine,” you smiled, looking up at your oldest brother, “Arthur taught me.” *** Masterlist

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absolutelyfizzing · 3 years

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angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

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vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses · 3 years

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I just have to get this off my chest after seeing some very disturbing posts about 9/11 floating around on my dash as well as some truly crude commentary. A lot probably won't agree with my sentiments but I feel like this needs to be said.

I've seen a lot of things on Tumblr in the past that maybe I consider to be in poor taste or don't agree with but I usually just scroll past, sometimes block for curating sake, but today is the first time I truly was shell-shocked. To see the memes and blasé jokes people are making about this day are just absolutely horrific and appalling.

I get that a lot of people on this site now may not remember what happened that day and only learned second hand through school or media or other people telling them. I get that a lot occurred after this that wasn't right which we definitely should be learning from. I also get that there is a lot of anti-American and anti-white sentiments going around currently, especially on this site.

But here's the thing:

Not only Americans died that day. Not only white people died that day. That's the thing about terrorists and what these hijackers did: they don't care about your skin color, your culture, your religious preference, your sexual orientation, your gender orientation, your age, your economic status, your personality, whether you support them or not, your political persuasion, your job, or any of it. Everyone is fair game to them. For crying out loud, look at what the Afghani people are currently going through and how the Taliban are treating their own country's people, women especially. If you think this is bad (which it truly is), have you seen how things went under their rule before 9/11 even happened? Do you know their terrifyingly violent and brutal history? Women had acid thrown in their faces if they didn't wear a full hijab. People were mutilated or executed if they didn't fall in line with the law of the Taliban. And this doesn't even begin to go into Al-Qaeda or Isis. But I'm not here to talk about that or delve into that topic too much.

My point in mentioning all of this is that white Americans weren't the only ones that were killed that day. People of all faiths, of all colors, of different countries, died that day, too. And the unity that is consistently discussed every 9/11 anniversary is in regards to us being aware of that fact, us mourning all of their losses together, and the collective desire to come together and help once the planes hit and after the towers collapsed.

So when people say "why am I supposed to cry over white Americans getting killed that day" think about that. Not only white Americans died that day. And regardless of their color, their nationality, their culture, their religion, etc. anyone dying is always sad. Whether it be a jetliner being used as a weapon that crashed into their floor or someone dying of cancer or someone being killed in a mudslide or someone dying in a car accident -- it is always sad. And empathy should always be shown in response, even if it doesn't impact you personally. Let's not forget these people have loved ones that got left behind, that are still here.

So when people say "if something knocks into a cow and knocks it over, I'm not expected to care, but if something knocks into a building and knocks it over, suddenly I'm supposed to care?" think about that. People aren't grieving two large pieces of steel architecture. People aren't saying "always remember those two towers". The WTC Towers were a symbol (yes, for American wealth, I get it) but became so much more of a multi-faceted powerful symbol after 9/11. The towers represent a way of life before 9/11 happened, but more importantly they represent the people lost that day, who were in the towers when they collapsed. For all of the first responders who were stuck on those floors still trying to help evacuate people to safety when the buildings finally gave. The two footprints and two blue lights aren't a symbol of American wealth or a naivete and simpler way of life pre-9/11 - they are a symbol of memorialization for that day. The Freedom Tower was erected to show that despite the loss of that day, we stood united (even if there seems to be more and more division these days). It's a message to the world that yes, destruction and death happened that day in NYC, but so did rebuilding and life carrying on. It's a symbol of strength, resilience, and unity - something that was everywhere you looked days after this event occurred. The two towers (aka NYC) may have gotten knocked down but the city got back up. They weren't kept down - that's the point of the Freedom Tower.

When people say "I don't understand, what is it that I shouldn't be forgetting since I can't remember it anyway" here is what we all should be remembering despite our age or our connection (or lack thereof) with this event:

2,997 innocent civilians died that day. Among them were 343 firefighters, 37 police officers, 23 Port Authority police officers, 8 EMS workers, and 4 other first responders. Also among them were 246 people on the four planes that crashed.

The passengers of United Flight 93 made a choice to fight back against the hijackers and saved lives that day by sacrificing their own.

Many children lost parents. Many parents lost children. Many brothers lost sisters, and many sisters lost brothers. Many spouses lost their significant others. Many lost friends, family, and loved ones.

For those who want a better connection to this day who didn't experience it and/or don't remember it, and for those others who are seriously lacking in empathy: yes, it was a highly publicized event due to the hundreds of cameras (including media outlets) watching that day, but if the horrific images aren't enough to garner some of your empathy, then there are plenty of other resources at your disposal. Documentaries like 9/11 by James Hanlon and the Naudet brothers, 102 Minutes That Changed America (which shows you not only all of the first-hand eyewitness accounts that day but also lets you hear 911 calls, radio transmissions between firefighters, and people's reactions to the event and each other who were there), 9/11 Firefighters (on Discovery Plus) and even more recently, 9/11: The Turning Point (on Netflix) which provides a 360 degree view of the events that led up to 9/11, 9/11 itself, and what came after, displaying all different viewpoints. You can read the 9/11 Commission Report or there are several books and memoirs out there like Wake-Up Call by Kristen Breitweiser, or even historical accounts in books, newspaper articles, and online. But most importantly, listen to people's stories. The ones who were there, the ones who saw it happen, the ones who ran in to help, the ones who lost loved ones. That is the most important part and the most powerful. On Hulu, ABC News ran segments of 9/11 Twenty Years Later, "Women Of Resilience" being especially powerful. It's hard not to feel a human connection to these stories or any kind of empathy.

For those who are making these jokes and memes, if you like shows like 9-1-1 and Chicago Fire, etc, imagine those first responder characters rushing into those buildings to save lives and losing theirs in the process. If you don't remember 9/11 or feel any connection or empathy, imagine hundreds of Bucks or Eddies or Bobbys or Hens or Chimneys dying that day as they worked to save so many. Sorry to be so blunt because I love those characters too, but do you get a little bit of the connection now? Do you feel any empathy? I'm not trying to equate real life heroes and sheroes with fictional characters of course, but if it helps you to understand a little better in some way, well...I'm throwing it out there.

I myself lived in the Tri-State area at the time of the attacks. I remember seeing the second plane seconds before it crashed into the second building. I remember the devastation I felt watching the first tower collapse knowing that a loved one was most likely inside and how hard I cried thinking he was dead. (thankfully, he had been late to work that day and he got out of the area before the towers came down) I remember the relief and gratefulness we all felt hearing from him to assure us that he was alive when he finally was able to get to a phone, stating he was covered in dust and ash from the buildings. I remember the panic and fear we all felt, thinking the world was ending and we were all going to die, that this was it, this was World War III, after it was confirmed that the Pentagon had also been hit and there was also a downed plane in Pennsylvania. I remember the grief another loved one suffered because she lost her entire floor (she had been out sick that day) and every single one of her co-workers. I remember the race to pick up children from school and get them home as soon as possible. I remember the rage that coursed through us seeing the footage of some people in certain countries celebrating the attacks in the streets, enjoying the deaths of so many Americans, a couple of these countries who lost citizens themselves in these attacks. I remember the camping out in front of the televisions night after night for a week straight afterwards, watching the news 24/7, worrying that there might be more attacks. I remember the feeling of sheer terror anytime a plane was heard overhead or seen appearing low enough in the sky that you could practically make out which airline it was for months afterwards. I remember seeing the lights the first time they were lit from our home. I remember feeling pure fear not only for what happened that day but also what came afterwards (not yet understanding that these weren't practitioners of Islam that did this but radical extremists who had literally hijacked the religion). I remember seeing the devastation at Ground Zero through a tear in the fabric over a fence as we walked through the city months afterwards. I remember not wanting to fly for years. I remember the anger I felt that our government had failed us due to political bs between agencies and countless others (which we found out especially when the 9/11 Commission Report came out) and that because of this horrific and absurd failure, thousands of innocent people had died. I remember seeing the crushed ladder truck, and the toy of the little girl who was on one of the planes at the 9/11 Memorial Museum and all of the pictures in that room that just floored me. (I also remember being pissed off that many were treating it as a selfie op where they were allowed to take pictures, completely missing the point of the museum's existence) But most of all, I remember feeling that life would never be the same for any of us ever again, and that the feeling of safety we had naively enjoyed on September 10, 2001 would never return.

But I also remember the compassion and unity we saw rising in the country after those attacks. I remember the gratitude for all of our first responders, those we lost that day and those who were still with us, actively working to recover those lost and to clear Ground Zero. I remember the feeling of collectiveness, that we all shared grief and showed support to one another in those days afterwards. I remember the fallen heroes and sheroes who ran into those buildings, who were off duty but raced from wherever they were that day to come and help. I remember The Man In the Red Bandana aka Welles Crowther (and many like him who worked to save others) who has become another important symbol of that day. I remember hearing all of the stories of people helping one another before and after the towers collapsed. I remember the good that this day represents. That while we may have seen some of the worst of humanity that day in the form of violence, death, weaponized airplanes, and devastation, we also saw the very best of humanity in the form of our first responders and people helping one another.

Look, did Islamophobia happen? Yes. Was it right? No, absolutely not. As I stated above, I myself feared the idea of the religion until I was educated by a friend of mine about the difference between the religion and extremism. This form of hijacking ideology can be seen in examples like the Westboro Baptist Church or even Hitler. Terrorists do not represent the true spirit of Islam no matter what the former tries to force people to believe. Just as the WBC is not the true spirit of Christianity, and so on and so forth. But even during the time I had feared the religion before gaining understanding and clarity, I never confronted or mistreated any practicing Muslim or Arab-American. Ever. I never posted hate or spewed vitriol against them. Just like with the current pandemic, I still cannot believe there are people out there attack Asian-Americans as if this whole thing is their fault. That's still mind boggling to me and it is absolutely 100% WRONG. It should not be happening. Same with Islamophobia. And it breaks my heart to read that many Arab-Americans and practicing Muslims still worry when this anniversary comes around that they may be attacked. It might not mean much, but I just want to say I am truly sorry for that and you have my full support. Always.

Did we go to war and was it just? Yes we did go to war. Was it just? Afghanistan? I need more information in order to have a fully-formed opinion but there are plenty who say yes and plenty who say no. Plenty who say we made things better over there (before we exited and the Taliban advanced) and plenty who say we didn't and only made it worse. I truly cannot say which assertion is correct and I think it would be narrow-minded and completely moronic (and possibly arrogant and presumptuous?) of me to speak on a subject I know so little about, one way or the other. Iraq? No, I don't think it was just and I honestly wish we could go back and do things differently.

But coming back to 9/11 and what this day means for so many, the people who died, the people who rushed headfirst into danger, the people who lost their loved ones. We saw incredible bravery, selflessness, and compassion for your fellow human that day despite what happened. We saw the strength within ourselves despite the fear and anger. We saw resilience. That is what the anniversary is meant to be a reminder of. The sacrifices, the loss, the courage, and the strength. Black, White, Gay, Straight, Christian, Muslim, Man, Woman, Young, Old -- it didn't matter. We all came together.

So regardless of whether it's the cool thing to do right now on this site (or elsewhere) to hate on America or 9/11 or white Americans or the anniversary itself on the very anniversary of these attacks, I ask that you please consider when posting these hurtful (and frankly harmful) words of hatred and vitriol such as referenced above that there are people out there who lost their loved ones on 9/11, that yes some of them may be on this very site and going through the 9/11 tag, and that some of them may have even lost a loved one in either war and are again on this site reading your words. Regardless of what you think or feel, please consider them and tag appropriately if you're going to post. Please consider that some of these people are currently losing their loved ones due to 9/11-related illnesses because of the cleanup at Ground Zero. Please consider that there are children who lost a parent or loved one, or who were orphaned that day (yes, they exist, we had some in our school district) who are also on this site reading your words. Basically, please just consider and be considerate. Please stop spreading hatred on a day that happened due to hatred; please stop perpetuating that cycle.

Like Martin Luther King Jr. said, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that."

TLDR: Love and light, my friends. Love and light. ✌️❤️

#9/11 #never forget #remember 9/11 #9/11 isnt a joke or a meme

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jenonctcity · 5 years

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Running From The Dark

Charia Kingdom – Renjun

Smut, Fluff, Angst.

Fantasy!Au, Supernatural!Au

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injury, minor character death, explicit sex, mention of abuse.

Word Count: 12.8k

(All of this series links up. The timeline of the story runs in the order of the master list from top to bottom, Mark - Jisung. Each members part can be read as a stand-alone, but I would recommended reading all the parts in order so the story adds up.)

Charia Kingdom - A place that has equal amounts of sunshine and rain, hot and cold, rich and poor, and, humans and creatures that couldn’t be identified as that of human status. Ruled by the Lee family with a king whose cutthroat and unforgiving nature is feared by many. The poor not cared for by people who have everything, where disease takes the lives of those unfortunate enough to not have the funds to purchase medicine. A place where humans live among creatures many would find terrifying. It’s no secret that Vampires, Werewolves, Wizards, etc live amongst them like normal people. Unless you murder someone, you’re considered normal. Everyone lives their own lives, whether it be a happy life, or a sorrowful life…

Being chased from the royal family’s castle at the age of 16 was never something Renjun hoped for when he was growing up. Having lived in the castle since his birth, his mother, the castles witch, raised him alone. After finding out a huge secret and confronting the king, the king has Renjun’s mother killed, leading Renjun to use the dark powers he never knew he had to curse the Prince of the kingdom. After a bounty is put on his head for his crimes, he lives his life on the run, burrowing away in a cabin far out in the depths of the dangerous forest. A place where many lethal creatures live. Now 19, Renjun has lived in solitude for 3 years, and never expected a girl to break into his home in the dead of night. The girl he encounters is on the run herself, but refuses to tell him why. The stubborn, mentally strong, and brave girl persuades him to let her stay with him. Can he live alongside another being when he’s still got dark magic flowing through his veins and a huge secret heavy in his heart?

The strong wind whipped against your face, alongside stray branches and leaves from trees you didn’t notice in your haste. The shadows from the trees created a darkness in the forest that made it hard to navigate your way through, despite the bright moonlight peering through gaps in the trees; you could hardly see. Your hearing was perfect though, and the demanding shouts of men’s voices was what kept you running even though the dangers you faced the deeper you got into the forest. Your lungs burned from the stress you put them through, running nonstop for an hour was no joke and you felt the ache in your legs. But you had no choice, you couldn’t be caught by the men trailing you or you’d be forced into a life you did not wish to pursue. A bead of sweat cascaded down the side of your cheek, falling from your jaw as you dodged a large branch that was at head height, you ducked underneath it, but immediately stumbled from a dip in the ground. You gasped in surprise, one of your knees coming in contact with the ground before you caught yourself. You winced at the loudness of your gasp, hoping the men not far behind you hadn’t heard you. You couldn’t run any longer, the pain becoming too much, but you refused to give up. You hid behind the largest tree you could find, holding your breath despite the urgency of your lungs screaming about how they needed oxygen. The voices got closer, your stomach twisting in anxiety at them finding you.

“(Y/N)! Come out come out wherever you are.” A deep voice sang with a sickly-sweet laugh following it. The light of a lit torch casting more shadows to fall from the trees as they neared you. “Mr Kim will be a very, very disappointed man if he doesn’t get to have his little bitch.” The voice continued to taunt you, your eyes filling with tears, all hope of freedom rinsing out of your body. “He’s not very forgiving you know…He’s going to do very bad thi-”

The echo of a high-pitched howl cut the man off. His voice halting to a stop the second he heard the threatening signal of a nearby creature. Hushed voices talked amongst themselves before the rustling of leaves told you the men had given up before you, retreating from the forest to escape the beast of the night. You heard more rustling, your heart pounding in your chest and your hands getting clammy, a fright you’d never felt before sending freezing chills down your spine despite the heat of the night. The sound got closer, but you had a feeling it wasn’t the men coming back. You looked to your left, being as quiet as you could as you peered around, hoping to look for a gap in the trees so you had an easy exit if you needed one. You couldn’t see anything under the guise of darkness, so you swung your head to the right. Bright green eyes beside your face had your heart almost stopping, your breath getting caught in your lungs as you stood shell shocked. The snow-white fur of the lean wolf almost glowed under the moonlight, it looking soft to the touch. The wolf stared at you, its head flicking up slightly as it sniffed at you. It took a step closer, its face getting closer to yours. You wanted to beg it not to kill you, but you knew nothing about werewolves. Could it understand your language? Did it have a human form? You had no idea. The wolf rubbed its face against yours the same way you saw a cat once rub its face against its owners’ leg. You took in a sharp breath, confused by the wolfs actions, as it turned away and ran into the dark of the night. Letting out the breath you were holding, you couldn’t help but think the wolf had purposely sought you out to help you.

“Thank you!” You whispered shouted into the darkness, hearing a bark respond in the distance. You took off running again, not knowing what you were looking for and heading towards. You slowed to a walk after half an hour, not even knowing if you were walking in circles as you passed a large boulder that looked strangely familiar. Or maybe you were just going insane, maybe you imagined the wolf and in actuality you were stuck in the prison you once called home. You tripped over a tree root, your body slamming into the leaf covered floor being enough to tell you this was reality, and you actually were experiencing one of the most frightening events of your life. You stood up with a groan, your knees and palms stinging from your fall and your throat feeling so dry it hurt to make any noise. You brushed yourself off, lifting your head to look in front of you as you saw a glimmer of hope. A small cabin in a barely-there clearance sat like a dream. It looked like it was as worn out as you felt. The brick being a dull colour from what you could see underneath the moonlight. Stray vines and ivy grew up the walls, leading you to believe the cabin had been there for quite some time. Looking at the chimney you noticed a lack of smoke, hoping that it was an unoccupied lot so that you had somewhere to spend the night.

You weighed up your options. On one hand, you could spend the night in a cabin, sure there was a risk that it actually had someone living in it, but you could just leave if it did. On the other hand, you could spend the night in a dark, dangerous forest, where all sorts of unknown creatures could be lurking behind trees, ready to cook you in a stew at any moment. Your legs were carrying you to the cabin before your brain had even thought to pick one of the options you’d so carefully thought about. You dodged all the brambles and tree roots, determined not to fall over now that you could actually see the floor from where the moonlight was boring down between the trees. You found the front door, the blue paint peeling from the wood from wear and tear. Taking a deep breath, you tried the doorknob, groaning when it wouldn’t turn.

“Damn.” You grumbled, trying to think of a plan b. You walked around the property, seeing a dusty window around the back. You wiped your hand over the dust, smearing it but successfully making it easier to see through. You peeked through the window, not noticing anything out of the ordinary from what you could see of the kitchen. You also noticed no food on any of the surfaces. The kitchen counter and the table void of anything other than pots and a large book. You hoped the place had been abandoned and they’d just left bits and pieces around the cabin. You found a back door that held no paint on it, just a simple wooden door, smirking to yourself when you easily opened it. Whoever was last here had obviously failed to lock the back door, which you were very thankful for. You shut the door behind you quietly, flicking the lock on the door so no one could follow you inside. You looked around, being able to see almost the whole first floor of the cabin from where you stood, it being an open layer set up. There was the kitchen that you’d seen through the window, beside that there was a fireplace with an uncomfortable looking sofa sat in front of it, the material made out of patchwork pieces. You noticed in the fireplace a large cauldron, and next to that, a very large cabinet with plenty of labelled bottles on the shelves. This must have belonged to a witch at some point. You hoped she wasn’t coming back anytime soon, knowing they can be very hostile when they want to be, and the last thing you needed was to be cursed to cough up frogs or something. You saw a set of wooden steps leading up to the next floor, but you were more curious about the glistening bright blue liquid you could see in one of the bottles on the shelf. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you walked past the stairs to take a closer look at the bottle.

“Unicorn blood…” You read the label out loud and grimaced, not knowing that unicorns had luminous blue blood. A creak sounded from behind you, causing you to gasp and turn around quickly. You widened your eyes when you saw a young man holding a wand threateningly at you. He stood on the stairs, wearing what you assumed what his night clothes that consisted of navy pants and nothing else. His torso was bare, and you gulped, feeling like you’d not only intruded on his home, but on his privacy. His dark brown hair was almost shoulder length, it looking shaggy from where he had been asleep when you’d barged into his home. You were slightly glad it was a wizard and not a witch, hoping he would be kinder to you than a woman would be.

“Who are you?” His voice was mellow despite his demanding tone, and it felt like soft silk against your ears.

“No one.” You frowned, not really knowing where you got this sudden bout of courage to be defensive from. His frown hardened and he flicked his wand, sparks shooting out from it and making an empty bottle on the counter beside you explode. You jumped in surprise, taking a step away from the broken glass on the floor next to you.

“Tell me.” He growled, his voice no longer sounding as lovely as it first had.

“My name is (Y/N).” You watched him wit nervous eyes, his own dark orbs not once leaving your figure.

“Who sent you?” He took another step down the staircase, the wood creaking underneath his weight, now only one more step away from being on the ground. You furrowed your eyebrows at his words, curious as to what he meant by that.

“No one sent me, I was-” You cut yourself off, not wanting to tell him what you were running from in case he decided to use it against you. “I needed shelter, there was a wolf out there.” You glanced around the cabin looking for possible exits in a hurry, even though you’d only seen the two doors which were now both locked, meaning a fast exit was out of the question. You neglected to tell him that the wolf had plenty of opportunities to harm you, but didn’t, it seemingly having helped you in comparison. He didn’t say anything for a minute, thoughts swirling around his head at what he should do with you. He’d never had anyone find him in his whole three years of living out in the forest, so he had no idea what to do.

“Get out.” He narrowed his eyes at you, taking another step down the stairs. You shook your head.

“No. I can’t go back out there! Something will kill me.” Your eyebrows knitted together, and purposely put a scared look on your face, hoping he would have mercy on you. He took another step, so he was finally on the ground, an evil smirk gracing his face.

“Maybe something will kill you in here.” His face fell back to a hard scowl. His eyes still hadn’t looked anywhere but at you, and you started to feel nervous under his stare.

“I don’t think so.” You folded your arms over your chest, trying to act as brave as you usually were now that he clearly didn’t care if you were scared or not.

“You think you’re brave, but I can see right through you. You’re just a scared little girl…I wonder what you were running from.” His voice held a taunting tone and his smirk grew as he slowly started to approach you. You tried to take a step back but were restricted by the cabinet behind you. You gulped, watching him with worried eyes.

“I told you, I was running from a wolf.” You could feel your palms start to sweat and you were regretting your decision to hide in the cabin. He lowered his wand, letting out a sigh and letting his smirk drop.

“You can take the couch. But you leave tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You bowed to him, shuffling over to the couch and slowly lowering yourself onto it.

“If you try anything, I will personally find that wolf and feed you to it myself. Understood?”

“Understood.” You turned you head to him as he ascended up the stairs once more. You let out a sigh, thanking the gods it was a warm night out, so you weren’t going to freeze to death without any blankets. Not wanting to push your luck with the wizard whose name you didn’t even know, you laid down on the couch, having to tuck your legs up to fit properly. It was surprisingly more comfortable than you thought if would be, so you found it easy to drift off to sleep.

---

It was the uncomfortable ache in your neck that woke you up. You groaned as you stretched out on the cramped sofa, the relief you felt in your muscles causing you to moan out loud. You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes before finally opening them. You jumped in surprise when you saw the homeowner stood over you, staring down at you. He jumped when he saw your eyes open, his face starting to glow a bright red as you stared up at him.

“Pervert.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear, sitting up and letting out a yawn.

“I’m not a pervert, I just saw you moving and wondered if you wanted some breakfast. But you were still asleep, and I was trying to figure out how to wake you up.” He frowned, crossing his arms over his still shirtless torso. “You’re a very restless sleeper.” He mumbled before walking away from you, heading towards the kitchen which was only about five steps away. You hummed in acknowledgment and stood up, following him to the kitchen.

“What’s for breakfast?” You asked, your eyes trained on his back as he pulled out some bowls from a cupboard.

“Porridge.” He grunted, getting to work on making the food. You watched over his shoulder, grimacing in disgust at the sight of the sloppy porridge.

“I’ve never had porridge before…” He let out a sigh, turning to face you with a face of no emotion.

“That’s because its poor people food, and you clearly come from money.” He looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow at your high-class dress that was torn slightly from your trip through the forest. It was a deep emerald green, made from the finest of materials and tailored to fit you perfectly. “Are you the daughter of a lord or something?” He didn’t look at you as he questioned you, spooning the sloppy food into a bowl and passing it to you with a spoon. You grimaced, hesitantly taking a mouthful and swallowing it fast, too bothered by the pain in your stomach from hunger to care about the taste.

“I am.” You kept your eyes on him as he sat down at his tiny table and chairs, putting his bowl on the table. He also kept his eyes trained on you, not fully trusting of you.

“So why are you in my home and not in your lavish house being waited on hand and foot by your servants?” Your silence had him raising an eyebrow. You awkwardly looked around the room, letting out a long sigh as you debated whether to tell him or not.

“You don’t need to know.”

“You’re in my home. You tell me or you leave.” You looked at him with sorrow in your eyes. He wasn’t expecting to see such an emotion laying behind your eyes, his heart dropping a little at how sad you suddenly looked. He let out a sigh and shrugged. “Whatever, doesn’t matter.” He stood up and turned his back to you as he placed his bowl into a large metal tub used for washing. He winced at how soft he was being with you and he couldn’t help but mentally question himself for how he was acting with you. You finished eating and followed suit, stood beside him with your eyes locked on his body.

“What’s your name?” You asked out of the blue, ultimately disrupting the silence that had settled between you both.

“Renjun.” You furrowed your eyebrows at his name and scrunched your face up in thought.

“That name sounds familiar to me…” You didn’t notice how his fists clenched up at your words, his body becoming stiff as he waited for you to continue. “Maybe I know someone else with that name.” You shrugged it off and let out a soft laugh. “So…can I stay with you?” You smiled widely at him in hopes a smile would persuade him to let you reside with him for the foreseeable future.

“Sure.” He turned to you and plastered on a big smile to mirror your own.

“Really?” You gasped in surprise and perked up slightly.

“No.” His expression fell completely apart from the small smirk on his lips. Your face fell to a pout forming on your lips.

“Please! I can help you out with…whatever it is you do here, and I won’t be a nuisance I swear. I can clean up and er…I don’t know really…please!” When you saw that he wasn’t going to cave in so easily, you let out a sigh and whined. “I’ll do anything, just don’t send me back out there alone!” His smirk rose and he started to approach you, taking slow steps until he had you backed up against his table.

“Anything?” He looked you up and down, not missing the look of fear that flashed on your face as the intimidating stranger had your closed in. He backed off without a second thought, not sure where his compassion for you was blossoming from but he could see you were frightened at the thought of him touching you in an inappropriate way. It then struck him it was probably a man you were running from. “You can stay.” He mumbled.

---

You’d been staying with Renjun for just over a week. You noticed he didn’t talk much, but you didn’t care, you happily chatted to him even when all you got back was a grunt in reply. He also had a knack for making you jump when you least expected it. He didn’t go out of his way to give you a fright, but the spells and potions he made would often go bang and leave you wondering if he was even good at what he did. You still had no answers as to why he was living on his own so deep in the forest, but you didn’t want to pry, he could kick you out at any moment and then you’d be stranded once more. To say you were struggling with adjusting to life outside of your home was an understatement. You were used to living in a lavish mansion with maids and servants waiting on you hand and foot. So, to live in a cramped cabin and sleep on a tiny sofa every night made you want to ball your eyes out and throw a tantrum. But you held it in. The worst part was…well the toilet, which wasn’t even a proper toilet, but in fact, an outhouse. But you didn’t want to even think about that. The next worst part was bathing. When Renjun had led you on a ten-minute walk to a small lake, you had genuinely thought he was having a joke with you. But his dead serious face told you otherwise. He had told you to bathe in the water and had given you a bar of soap. You timidly poked you toe into the water and the cold temperature had made you gasp so loud you gave him a mini heart attack.

“No. I can’t get in there.” You turned to see Renjun already in his underwear, gasping again and turning around quickly.

“Well then you’ll just have to stink won’t you.” He sounded like he didn’t care, wading into the lake and dunking his head underneath before coming up again. “It’s not that bad.” His words had you frowning. You were used to heated baths in a large silver tub, with the best smelling oils and flowers petals used. So this was a nightmare to you. When you saw Renjun wasn’t looking, you stripped down to your underwear, which were actually Renjun’s underwear as you only had the pair you were wearing when you’d ran into the forest and they were currently soaked in a tub with the rest of your laundry.

“Aren’t there fish and stuff in there?” You raised an eyebrow, slowly taking a step into the water. A shiver ran up your spine and you groaned, taking another step until both of your feet were imbedded in the floor of the lake, the mud making you cringe at the horrid feeling. You took a few more steps until you were closer to Renjun with the water coming up to your hips.

“Mermaids too.” Renjun nonchalantly said, washing himself down with his own bar of soap.

“What?!” Your eyes widened and you were about to turn back around when Renjun’s hand caught your wrist. He gave you a tug and your shoulders were soon underneath the water.

“I’m kidding.” He chuckled, letting go of you and pushing his hair back off of his face. The sun beamed down on his glistening wet skin, and you tried your hardest not to stare at how beautiful his body was. “Do I have to wash you myself or are you just going to stare at me?” He smirked and you found your cheeks heating up quickly, you turned away and started to wash yourself with the soap. “Is that what you’re used to? Having your body washed by your servant’s, little rich girl?” You knew he was mocking you, his tone light and airy.

“No. I’m fully capable of washing my own body thank you.” You huffed, your arms causing unnecessary splashes in the water as you tried to show off how you didn’t find him funny. He simply laughed and you both continued to wash yourselves in the cold water. So yeah, you hated bath time.

Apart from that, it wasn’t all that bad.

You walked through the dense trees with Renjun by your side. He was wearing a black pair of trousers with a loose white shirt that showed off the top of his chest. It was midday, so the forest was lit up well by the hot sun beating down through the gaps in the canopy. You wore one of Renjun’s long shirts as a dress, still not having anymore clothes apart from what you wore the day you arrived at his cabin. But Renjun had told you that he’d sent a raven carrying a letter to someone he can trust. He hopes they’ll bring the items he put on the list so that you can finally have some other clothes.

“So the red berries you can use to make a potion that will kill someone?” You looked at Renjun beside you, his head nodding as a reply as his eyes scoured the floor for the item you were talking about. “And the pink berries you can use to make a love potion?” He nodded again and you made a noise of amazement. “Woah, that’s spectacular!” You picked up a flower that had white petals and a blue bud. “What does this do?”

“Nothing, its just a flower.” He scoffed a laugh, pushing back some loose leaves to uncover the red berries he was talking about. You dropped the flower and stared at the berries.

“Why do you want to kill someone though?”

“Don’t ask so many questions.” He deadpanned, putting the berries into his sack.

“Are you going to make someone fall in love with you?” You tilted your head, unable to stop the questions from pouring out of your mouth.

“No. I make potions to sell on the black market. Potions that can kill, harm, or force someone into something are considered illegal and black magic. But it’s the only way I can get money and food. The person I sent a raven to is the same person who does my deals for me.”

“Isn’t he worried he’ll be caught? You get the death sentence for illegal things like that…”

“He’s a vampire, so no.”

“That’s hot.” You smirked at him, his eyed widened and he gave you a look of shock. You burst into laughter and rolled your eyes. “I’m joking, hey can you make a potion that-” Before you could finish, you stopped talking, the loud shouts that echoed through the trees causing a chill of dread to shoot through your system. The voices sounded identical to that of the ones following you when you were running a week prior. “We need to go.” You gripped onto Renjun’s arm, but the voices got louder and suddenly you were facing the one man you never wanted to see again.

“Hello my love, long time no see.” The man stood in front of you smirked, his thin lips pulling up and making him look dangerous. “I wasn’t best pleased to find out my wife had run away.” His piercing blue eyes looked you up and down. You would have run again, but you were frozen on the spot, and he had five other men stood by his side, all holding swords and looking ready to attack.

“I’m not your wife. We never got married.” You spat with hatred at him, giving him a look of disgust. Renjun stood beside you with a look of confusion on his face, his eyebrows furrowed, and fists clenched.

“I see you’ve already found yourself another man. Such a little whore (Y/N).” He sneered at you and gave Renjun a look up and down.

“I’m not with him. Don’t bring him into this.”

“Who are you?” Renjun completely disregarded everything you just said and threw himself into the situation.

“Did she not tell you about the fiancé that she abandoned? Well, to cut a long story short. I woke up one day to find my lover gone. My men soon found her hiding and she ran into the forest. They tracked her but lost her, and here we are now.”

“No. She didn’t.” You and Renjun turned to look at each other and he hit you with a hard glare. You gulped, a nervous fire burning in the pit of your stomach from how Renjun was staring at you.

“Hand her over and you can go free. But if you don’t, we’ll kill you.” Your ex-fiancé’s lips curled into a blood curdling smirk. Renjun gasped and started to stutter.

“T-take her! I-I don’t w-want no trouble!” He held his arms up beside his head in surrender. Your stomach fell through the floor at how he was giving you up so quickly without even hearing your side of the story. You thought that Renjun was going to stick by your side, but then thought that he actually had no reason to. You were simply mooching off of him and this was his opportunity to get rid of you.

“No Renjun! Please don’t do this!” You grabbed his wrist and begged him, your eyes staring into his and welling up with tears. Your heart was beating fast as two men enclosed on you, not giving you much time to escape as they grabbed you by the arms. “Get off of me!” You squealed and tried to tug yourself away from them. “Stop!” You dug your heels into the floor, but it was no use against the strong henchmen. You looked at your capture and saw his sick, sadistic smile on his face as he grabbed you by the jaw.

“I can’t wait to have you underneath me; I hope he didn’t do much damage to your pretty little cunt.” His words had you shaking at inside, tears falling down your cheeks and you didn’t even want to think of the things he would do to you. “You belong to me. Don’t forget that.” He tapped your cheek and turned to Renjun who was stood looking meek by a tree. “You did good boy. Now go home.” You were being dragged unwillingly through the forest, your back to Renjun but you wanted to scream at him for giving you over like that. You felt betrayed and it was like having a hot knife twisted in your chest.

The tight grips on your arms were suddenly gone, and a purple flash blinded you momentarily. You fell to the floor from no longer having any support from the goons who were holding you captive. You squeezed your eyes shut and heard the sounds of deep grunts, followed by thuds hitting the floor and what you could only describe as knives slashing. Strong arms wrapped around your middle and you whimpered, gripping onto the floor like it would stop whoever was attacking you.

“No! Stop!” You struggled in their arms as you sobbed, wishing you were back in Renjun’s cabin where you felt safe.

“Hey stop, it’s me.” Renjun’s soft voice whispered to you as he pulled you up into his arms. He held you to his chest and shushed you gently. “You’re okay, keep your eyes closed.” He started to walk, carrying you in his arms with ease. You couldn’t help but open your eyes to see what had happened. The sight you were met with had your mouth dropped open and fresh tears to fall from your eyes.

“You killed them?!” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to rid the image of all six men laying on the floor with their throats slit open. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the sight of your ex-fiancé as he laid on the floor, choking on his own blood as he slowly died. “How did you do that?!”

“With dark magic, I told you not to look!” You hid your face into the crook of his neck as he carried you back to his home despite the fact he’d just murdered six people in front of you. You couldn’t stop the tears the trailed down your face as you stewed in your thoughts the whole journey home. You really thought you were going to be forced into the marriage you didn’t want once again. You let out a long sigh as Renjun gently sat you on his bed. He cupped your face and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. “Are you hurt?” He spoke quietly, his eyes scouring over you as he checked for any marks. “Your arms are going to bruise.” He gently stroked your arms, his fingers barely touching you as he sighed. “When the bruises show, I can heal you.” He sat down beside you and hesitated before he took your hands into his own. He didn’t speak, his eyes trained on your face as he waited for you to break the silence.

“I was born into a rich family, and as soon as I turned 18, they signed me up for an arranged marriage. They recently matched me with him,” You paused, gulping back your emotions as you looked up at the ceiling. “he’s abusive. He would hit me, force me to do things I really didn’t want to do…”

“Did he rape you?” Renjun whispered, his stomach fluttering with butterflies as he waited for you to respond.

“No.” You shook your head, sighing and turning to look at Renjun. “He was waiting for our wedding night.”

“Bastard.” His fists clenched and he growled in disgust.

“So I ran away. That night I broke into your home, I was being chased by his men. A white wolf chased them away and I’m sure it saved me on purpose.” You looked into Renjun’s dark eyes, noticing a strange look behind them that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Snowy.”

“Sorry?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion at him.

“Her name is Snowy. Well, it’s not actually her name, but she can’t talk so I just call her Snowy.” He nodded with a small smile on his face as if he was proud of what she did. He gave your hands a squeeze but made no effort to lose contact with you. You had never felt safer in your entire life as what you felt in the middle of the most dangerous forest, in a run-down cabin, with a man you’d only known for just over a week. You felt a sudden rush of affection and thankfulness towards him, knowing if he hadn’t been with you, then you’d be made to marry that monster. You didn’t even want to think of the things he would have done to you as punishment for running away. You leaned your head in, hesitating before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek with your eyes closing as you made contact. Renjun stiffened momentarily, but then relaxed, a soft smile playing at his lips as his cheeks started to turn pink fast.

“Thank you for saving me.” Silence ensued after you pulled away, and you both sat wordlessly on his bed for five minutes before he spoke up once again.

“My mother was the castles witch, or healer as some would say.” He took a deep breath and stared you in the eye, you felt his grip on your hand tighten as he worked up the courage to finally tell his story to someone after so many years of keeping it to himself. “I never knew my father, she just used to tell me that he was a coward and we were better off without him. Anyway, throughout my life, my mother would help me with the gift that she’d passed down to me, and I was getting really good with using magic. One night I decided I needed some answers about my father, so I snuck into her work room and spent hours searching for a recipe for a truth potion. I found it and I brewed it in secret whilst she slept. The next morning I slipped it into her drink, and by midday she was spilling all sorts of secrets out that I never knew about.” He let out a sigh and you noticed that his eyes started to fill with tears.

“You haven’t got to tell me anymore.” You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand to try and comfort him. “If its too much you haven’t got to.”

“No, I want to.” He took another deep breath and sniffed back his tears. “I asked her about my father, and she said that the King is my father. I got really mad that she never told me, and I threw things around and I said some really nasty stuff. I felt like something was boiling inside of me that I couldn’t control. So I left, because I didn’t want to hurt her. The next thing I did was find the King. Obviously, he knew who I was and that I was his son. We argued and I kept shouting at him, he told me to stop or I would regret it. I didn’t believe that he’d do anything though because it just sounded like empty threats, and I was so angry. He’d slept with my mother when he was married to the Queen, so he never wanted anyone to find out. Then a month after I was born the Queen gave birth to the Prince, so the King threatened my mother that if anyone ever found out, he’d have her killed.” His eyes started to blink faster as he continued on with his story, his eyes glossier than before. “I didn’t stop shouting at him, so he had his guards restrain me while they went to collect my mother. He had them hold me in front of her whilst he slit her throat.” His face crinkled up as a sob left his lips, the memory paining him and causing a dam to burst inside of him. You gulped, your own eyes filling with tears at the thought of what he’d been through.

“Oh no…” You let go of his hands and instead wrapped your arms around his torso, bringing him close to you and rubbing his back in slow circles. “Renjun…” His frame rocked from the sobs he let out. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his hands, letting out a long breath and gulping.

“They killed her in front of me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.” He pulled away from your embrace and took your hands back in his own instead, missing the feel of your soft hands within his own. He entwined your fingers with his own and kept his eyes on them as he played with them. “They threw me on the floor in her blood, and I felt so much rage and sadness that I didn’t know what to do. I ran back to my room and I grabbed my wand, I wasn’t even thinking, my legs just carried me. I went to find the King again, but before I could get to him, I came across the Prince in the hall.” He winced as he started to explain what happened next. “I grew up with the Prince, he was my closest friend and the Queen would encourage us to play together despite the fact I was a workers son. She’s a very kind woman, and I believe she knew about her husband’s affair, but she never held it against me or my mother. Obviously, he was worried when he saw me covered in blood, and he kept firing questions at me and trying to stop me from where I was going, he didn’t know I had the intention of killing his father. I was getting overwhelmed, especially with my newly found brother being in front of me. Other people heard the commotion and they came to watch, it was when the King came around the corner that I lost it. I saw red. And Jeno was in my way…” He paused as he thought about how to explain what happened next to you. He squeezed your hand tight as he spoke. “I remember seeing a bright green light emitting from my wand as I raised it at him, then suddenly he was laying in a heap by his fathers’ feet, but he wasn’t human anymore…he was a wolf. I can remember the burning feeling I had in my gut as I fired the curse at him, but I didn’t mean to. I never wanted to harm him, I loved him like a brother, and I was devastated at what I’d done. So I ran, the same way that you had.”

“You had no other choice Renjun, how old were you?”

“Sixteen.” He sighed, resting his head on your shoulder as he shut his eyes. “The feeling I had back then was the same feeling I felt today when those men had their arms around you.” His face hardened and he scowled at the memory.

“You were just a kid; you didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You tried to reassure him, but you knew it probably made no difference to him. “And you had no other choice today, its not like you had a sword and could fight them in combat.”

“I did though, I wanted other people to hurt…I killed all the knights who chased me, I’m a murderer (Y/N), I have too much dark magic inside of me to be anything other than a bad person. It’s my fault that my mother was killed, and I have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“Renjun, your mother was murdered in front of you, and you were so young I can only assume that you had no control of powers that strong at such a young age. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. But you can’t change what happened.” You lifted his hands up and placed a kiss to the back of one of them.

“I trust you not to hurt me.”

“I would never hurt you…” You both looked into each other’s eyes as he raised his head from your shoulder. You smiled shyly and your breath hitched as his head crept closer to your own. When your lips were a centimetre away from touching a loud howl ripped through the air, followed by a chorus of more howls. You both pulled away and Renjun stood up fast to peek out of the window beside his bed.

“What’s going on?” You asked with a horrible feeling in your gut even though you knew the threat you had run away from was no long lingering over your head.

“I think some wolves have just found the bodies, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Oh…” You stood up from Renjun’s bed and noticed that the sun had started to set, making the entire cabin eerily dark. Renjun waved his hand over a candle in the corner of his room and a flickering flame brought a new light to the setting.

“When you first came here you said you recognised my name…why?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.

“You’re a wanted man, but I think you already knew that.” He let out a soft laugh before nodding his head. You thought back to when Renjun had come across you in his home and he’d asked you who had sent you, at the time it confused you, but now it made sense. He was scared for his life, and he had a right to be.

“Yes that’s why I’ve been living deep in a forest most people wouldn’t even dare to enter.” He winked at you and made his way downstairs, you quickly stepped to the window and brushed the curtain aside, peering out into the dense trees. You could have sworn you saw some amber eyes staring at you from far away, but they were gone just as fast as they were there.

“Its been a long day.” You mumbled to yourself and shook your head, trying to clear your mind. Your cheeks heated up as you thought back to the kiss you had nearly shared with Renjun. The image of his face getting closer to your own with his really kissable looking lips was making your palms sweat. You were in the midst of thinking about how things would have turned out had your lips actually met with his own, and you were debating whether you had feelings for the boy you’d only known a week when his footsteps made the stairs creak underneath him. He was carrying your blanket and pillow in his hands which caused you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “What are you doing with those?”

“I don’t want you sleeping on the couch anymore, I just thought maybe you’d want to er…” His cheeks slowly turned red as he stumbled over his words. “Share the b-bed with me?” Your eyes widened and you glanced at his bed. It was definitely big enough to hold the both of you, and you were surprised that he felt comfortable enough with you to do that.

“No funny business?” You raised an eyebrow at him and smirked, enjoying the way he squirmed under your stare.

“(Y/N)!”

“I’m joking!”

---

The soft summer breeze was doing nothing to cool you down. The sun had caused your body to perspire and your flowy maroon dress to stick to your skin, and you took off your shoes in hopes to get some air to them. The richly colourful flowers mixed in with lengthy grass was one of the most calming things you’d witness in a long time. With the large mountains in view, a running stream so close you could hear the water trickling against the rocks, and the forest framing the spacious meadow, you didn’t want to move. The grass was soft against your body as you sat amongst it, Renjun’s head laying in your lap with his eyes shut, basking in the heat of the sun that was beating down from the endless, sapphire blue sky. You gazed down at his shining skin, smiling at the way his long eyelashes laid against his cheeks. His hair had gotten longer in the past two months that you’d known him, but he refused to let you cut it no matter how much you badgered him about it. You ran your hands through his hair and twirled the long locks around your fingers, he let out a soft sigh from how good it felt to him and nuzzled his head into your touch.

“You’re adorable Renjunnie.” You whispered, unsure if he was asleep or not, but the way his nose crinkled in disgust at your words told you he was still awake. “Don’t try to deny it.” You giggled, scratching his scalp with your fingernails as his eyes blinked open, squinting up at you as the sun was so bright.

“You were singing as you were washing our clothes this morning, yet I’m the adorable one?” He closed his eyes again but raised an eyebrow at you.

“You heard me?” You gasped with your eyes wide in surprise, a blush of embarrassment rising on your cheeks.

“Yes you weren’t exactly quiet.”

“Did I wake you up?” You picked at a flower beside you and slid it into Renjun’s hair. You smiled at your handy work and hastily picked another flower.

“No, I was already awake.” He mumbled and yawned, unaware that you were decorating his hair with flowers because your touch was so delicate.

“You kept rolling on me last night.” You sniggered, his eyes opening in surprise and catching you in the act of putting a white flower in his hair. You’d been sharing Renjun’s bed with him since the day you’d both admitted to each other why you were both on the run two months ago. You hadn’t had anymore close encounters of kissing like that had that day, but your feelings towards Renjun had grown significantly the more you got to know him. You took a keen interest in Renjun’s potions and spells, often assisting him with the brewing of potions and doing the grand job of holding his instruments. There was a time when Renjun got frustrated to the point of snapping, and you were nearly in the firing line of a ball of navy-blue fire that flew through the air. It had missed you luckily, and instead the wall of the cabin had a gaping, smouldering hole where the ball had hit it. Renjun had never apologised more in his life than that moment that he’d nearly hurt you, but it brought the two of you closer, especially when you reassured him that you trusted him. “Why were you so restless? Did you have another bad dream?” Since you’d been sharing his bed with him, you’d witnessed a number of his nightmares. It would start with soft whimpers leaving his lips and would escalate to him becoming agitated and twitchy in his sleep. You didn’t know whether to wake him or not, as the one time you did, he’d woken with such a start that he’d pushed you off of the bed. You didn’t want a repeat of that, so you always waited it out until his body went still once more.

“No, it was a good dream.” His smile was sleepy, and he stared up at you like you were the only thing he could see.

“Care to share?” You brushed the flowers from his hair just as he sat up, leaning on his hand to keep his body upright.

“No, I’m keeping it to myself.” He winked and let out a soft laugh before sighing. “What shall we do tomorrow?” You looked away from him, staring into the dense trees as you racked your brain for ideas of what to do.

“I want to go into town.” When he didn’t reply to you, you turned to see a scowl on his face, his lips pulled into a tight line and his body visibly tense. “I just want to see other people again you know…I miss the smells, the sounds, the food…” He still didn’t speak, thoughts rushing through his head as you spoke. “Renjun say something…”

“You’re not going.” His face was still stern, his eyebrows knitted together as he kept his eyes trained on you. You scoffed in disbelief; you couldn’t believe he had the nerve to tell you there you weren’t going to do something that you wanted to do.

“I wasn’t asking you for permission.” You shot back at him, your face now mirroring his own hard look.

“I don’t care, I’m not allowing you to go to town (Y/N).” You could both see where this was heading. Your tongue pushed into your cheek and you pursed your lips at him, raising an eyebrow as a silent challenge. All your life you’d been underneath the thumb of your parents, and now you had all the freedom you could possibly want, you weren’t going to allow a male to control you again.

“I’m going. Whether you like it or not.” You shrugged at him, watching as his gaze darkened. His fists clenched as he willed the fire burning in his stomach to simmer down.

“No. You are not.” He gripped at some of the grass in an attempt to calm down. “Don’t push me.”

“What makes you think you have the right to tell me what I do and don’t do Renjun. You’re not my father, or my husband. And even if you were, I sure as hell wouldn’t be controlled by you.” You pushed yourself up onto your knees, getting prepared to storm away at any moment.

“(Y/N) do you not understand how much danger you would be in if you went to the town? You even said so yourself that there are people who work for your fiancés family that could come looking for you. You will be walking around with a target on you. What the fuck would I do? I cant go with you because I’m the most wanted man in the entire Kingdom, and I cant just wait here for you to come home, not knowing if someone’s found you, or if a fucking animal has eaten you while you were on your way home. So no. You aren’t going (Y/N). And if you do go, then don’t bother coming back.” He growled with vigour, his eyes staring to glow a disturbing purple colour. Your mouth popped open as you witnessed what you believed to be dark magic taking over the Renjun that you knew. You’d never actually seen first-hand what the dark magic did to his physcial features, only ever seeing the aftermath of his rage running through him. You didn’t know how to calm him down, so you did the one thing you’d been wanting to do since that day he’d saved your life. You cupped his face in your soft hands and pulled his lips to meet your own. You squeezed your eyes shut, so you couldn’t see if what you were doing was helping him to calm down or not. You felt his hands come to rest on your waist, his grip tight to begin with but soon loosening as you moved your lips in perfect time with his. He pulled you from him and you opened your eyes to look at him. He stared into your eyes, his sight flicking down to your lips as he held his hands to your hips. As you looked into his brown eyes, you noticed that sadness behind them and it made your heart sink. He’d already lost the person who meant the most to him in the world, and he no longer had his best friend either. You could see why he was getting upset and angry and immediately regretted how you acted. He visibly gulped

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered as you looked to his parted lips.

“Good…” He leaned in once more and slotted his lips between your own. Your eyes shut automatically and you leaned into his touch, stroking your thumbs against his warm cheeks. He very slowly lowered you against the long grass, holding his body over your own as he worked his lips against yours. The feel of his tongue pushing against your own was something you’d never felt before, but it was a welcomed touch, it igniting a fire within you that was new to you. He moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking softly at your skin and squeezing your hips with his hands.

“I’m in love with you (Y/N)…” He whispered against you, letting out a sigh and resting his forehead in the crook of your neck. He gulped, screwing his eyes shut as he admitted his feelings towards you. “Please love me back.” You could barely hear him as he’d said the words so quietly, his voice cracking from how he got choked up. It broke your heart.

“Renjun…” You laid your hands on his back, rubbing them around in slow circles. You leaned your head against his, holding him to you tightly to comfort him. “I’m in love with you too.” He pulled his head back to look into your eyes, a small smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“I don’t want to lose you; I can’t lose anyone else.” His eyes welled with tears, making them appear glossy and darker than usual.

“You don’t have to, I won’t go.” You lifted your head and placed a tender kiss to his lips.

“Good.” He murmured against your lips, getting lost in your mouth once more. You kissed him for what felt like hours, but in reality, it was only ten minutes, before he descended to kiss at your neck.

“That feels good.” You smiled, your eyes shutting as he sucked a dark bruise into your neck. He smirked, licking a stripe up your skin and letting out a low chuckle. Your legs wrapped around Renjun’s hips, your hands fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck as he rolled his hips against yours. An involuntary moan spilled from your gaping lips, new feelings of excitement blooming inside of you that you’d never felt before. “Do it again.” You encouraged him, his hips rolling into yours again but with more force. He smiled, giving your lips one last peck before he sat back on his feels, his eyes staring down at your chest as it rose and fell fast from how thrilled you were. His shaky hands reached out as he took the top button of your dress between his fingers. He hesitated, looking you and biting his bottom lip. You nodded your head when you realised that he was wordlessly asking you for permission. He popped open the first button, then worked on opening the next 3 until your bra was on show. He placed both of his hands over your breasts, squeezing them over the plain material and letting out a throaty moan at the sight of what he was doing. You already knew that Renjun was a virgin, and that he’d never even seen a woman naked until he accidentally walked in on you naked one time. But you also knew he’d read books about sex, and that his mother had gotten the castles gardener to give him ‘the talk’ when he was fourteen. You’d also had ‘the talk’ given to you by your mother at the age of sixteen, and you snuck out multiple times to buy adult books that had very graphic explanations of sex in them. But no one needed to know that.

His hands wrapped around your torso and he quickly untied your bra, pulling the loose fabric from your body and setting it down beside you. “Wow…” He mumbled, his mouth popping open in awe at your body. He leaned in, placing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts while he cupped them with his hands. His lips trailed down, and he took one of your nipples between his lips. He looked up at you as he sucked at the sensitive bud, a small gasp falling from your lips at the spark it sent through you. He looked so innocent and content as he swirled his tongue around your nipple, his hips grinding lazily into yours. He moaned against you, his cock quickly hardening in his pants as he moved to the other breast to give it attention. He sat back on his heels once more, palming at his erection and biting his bottom lip. You smirked, sitting up and not hesitating before ridding yourself of your dress completely, only wearing your plain white panties. He followed your lead, pulling his loose white shirt off over his head before shimmying out of his pants. Your lips met in the middle, his hands framing your face as he drove his tongue into your mouth once again. Without thinking, you reached a hand out and squeezed at his hard length through his pants. He pulled back and sucked in a harsh intake of breath, his eyes screwing shut as he sounded pained.

“Is that good or bad?” You immediately withdrew your hand and looked worried, your eyes wide and dripping with simplicity.

“Good, too good.” He grabbed your hand and placed it back where it was before. You giggled softly, rubbing your hand against him as he bucked his hips up towards you. You slipped your hand into his underwear and gulped when you felt his cock against your hand. You didn’t have anything to compare it to, but you were happy with the size of it, but you had a daunting feeling sitting in your gut at whether you were confident in having something of that size inside of you. He pushed his underwear down and set them aside with the rest of his clothes. He watched your face as you stared at his rock-hard appendage, your hand having stilled. “Are you okay?” He took your hand in his and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Renjun I’ve been sleeping in a bed with you for the past two months, you have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this with you. It’s happening.” You grasped him in your hand once more, shuffling yourself forward on your knees as you very slowly stroked his cock. He reached his own hand out and slowly stroked your folds, his eyes widening in surprise at how wet you were already. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he found your dripping hole fast and slid a finger inside of you. “Oh…” Your mouth popped open and you found your hips moving instinctively against his hand, rolling them in time to his finger dipping in and out of you. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his lips trailing up to where he’d made a dark bruise on your neck. You moaned at the slight pain you felt when he nibbled at the sore spot but leaned into his touch anyway. He slowly slid another finger inside of you, stopping his ministrations when you whimpered in pain, your body going stiff and your hips raising.

“Did I hurt you?” You could hear the worry in his voice, it warming your heart that he was being so gentle with you.

“A little, just give me a few seconds to adjust.” He stayed completely still until you gave him the go ahead, his digits slowly moving in and out of you in a steady rhythm. You took in a deep breath and felt your thighs start to quiver from the little pangs of pleasure you felt every time he plunged his fingers inside of you. He pulled his fingers out of you and gave you a gentle nudge as a wordless hint for you to lay down. You laid back into the long grass, the kaleidoscope of colours from the flowers made your colour pop underneath the sun, the light sheen of sweat over your body making you glisten. Renjun was stunned by your beauty. His heart pounding in his chest as he stared down at the woman he’d fallen in love with in such a short time.

“Tell me if I hurt you or if you want to stop.” He spat in his palm and then stroked his cock a few times. He leaned over you, bracing himself up on one hand beside your head as he used his other hand to guide his cock to your entrance. He rubbed the head of his leaking member against your entrance, coating the head with your juices before very tenderly pushing it against the oozing cavern presented to him. You tensed up, wincing as it felt like you were being split in half.

“Stop!” You whimpered and he halted instantly. You felt bad when you saw the worried look on his face, his lips opening and closing as he tried to garner what to say. “Try again…”

“No. I don’t want to hurt you (Y/N)!” He was about to back off, but you grabbed him by the hair to stop him from moving. “Ow!”

“Sorry! Please, try again.” You pouted up at him, your eyes going comedically wide at him. He let out a sigh and nodded his head in obligement. When your hands had let go of his hair he quickly pulled away, much to your dismay. But before you could whine at him, he scooted backwards in the grass, gripping your thighs in his hands and pulling your hips upwards so that you were laying flat on your back again, your legs spread in front of him. He dipped down without a word and licked a stripe from your hole to your clit. A new feeling came over you as his tongue came in contact with the little bundle of nerves you’d only ever read about in the erotic books you’d secretly read. He watched your reaction and parted your folds with his fingers, leaning in and flicking his tongue against the little bud again. “Oh my…” You breathed out, leaning your head back as you felt like sobbing from how good it felt. He pushed his two fingers inside of you again, working them in and out of you as he sucked on your clit. Without you even noticing he added one more finger, moving them faster as he loosened you up. You felt what you could only describe as an explosion slowly building inside of your stomach, your toes curling and thighs starting to shake as the feeling got stronger.

Without saying anything, he suddenly withdrew from you, leaving you on the edge of your orgasm without even realising it. He hovered over you and very slowly started to push his cock into you once more. You still felt a slight string of pain, but it was considerably duller feeling that what it had been on his first attempt. He stopped once he was fully sheathed inside of you, his forehead resting against your own as you both adjusted to the new feeling. “Make love to me.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His lips met yours in a lingering kiss as he slowly pulled his hips back, pushing inside of you once more. He repeated this until he picked up a leisurely rhythm. He panted and let out soft groans against your lips, your orgasm slowly building back up until you were whimpering for more. You gripped at his back, digging your nails into his perspiring skin as his thrusts started to lose pace. The moment didn’t last as long as you would have hoped, as his body tensed up, he let out a guttural moan as he spilled his hot cum inside of you. He moved his hips slowly for a few moments before he pulled out, the over-stimulation becoming too much for him. He wiped his forehead with his hand and looked down at you.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think it would be that quick…” His cheeks flared up a bright red as he became embarrassed as his short performance. You giggled gently, biting your bottom lip as you watched him.

“You can always use your mouth again…I liked that a lot.” You shyly spoke, your own cheeks flaring up at how lewd your words sounded. A proud smirk rose up on his face as he leaned down, watching as his cum dribbled out of your hole. He used his fingers and pushed it back inside of you, attaching his mouth to your clit and sucking at it profusely as he rammed his fingers in and out of you. It didn’t take long for your first ever orgasm to crash into you like a tree falling on top of you. The air was snatched from your lungs and you saw stars that clouded over your vision. You tried to catch your breath, but you were struggling as your body adjusted to life after your orgasm. Renjun pulled his fingers out of you and watched against as his cum seeped from you, his bottom lip being tugged between his teeth in fascination. He didn’t want to alarm you, so he didn’t tell you about the small amount of blood mixed in with the white of his cum. He grabbed his shirt and hurried to clean you up with it, helping you get dressed and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. He had to help you stand up, your legs wobbly from the strain they’d been through. You wrapped your arms around him and smiled up at him with a look of pure admiration and love settled on your features.

“What are you thinking?” You grinned up at him, curious as to what was playing on his mind after what the two of you had just done.

“That it was exactly like my dream…what are you thinking?” He’d put his pants back on but opted not to wear his now dirty shirt.

“How happy I am, thank you for taking me in and giving me this life.” You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, unable to stop the wide smile that spread across your lips.

“I should be the one thanking you, I finally have someone to care about again. I was so lonely…”

“You never have to be lonely again.”

---

The gentle lull of Renjun’s soft voice was causing your eyes to droop. The flickering fire in front of you was creating a warmth over you that made you just want to drift off into the land of sleep. The sun had long gone down, and after a filling meal you and Renjun had cooked together had been consumed, you decided to snuggle up to him on the sofa. It was his idea to read a book aloud as your entertainment for the night. At first, you’d thought of it as a good idea, but the more he droned on, not putting much enthusiasm into making different voices for the different characters like you did, the sleepier you felt. You were surprised in yourself that you didn’t want him to bend your legs behind your ears and give you the fucking of a lifetime like you did most nights since you’d both lost your virginities to each other over a month prior. You’d been surprised when Renjun had brewed a strange tasting concoction that he claimed would prevent you from falling pregnant, and truth be told, you dreaded swallowing the sickly liquid that tasted like dirt. But if it meant you could have as much sex as you liked without the chances of creating unwanted babies, then you’d drink gallons of the stuff. Its not that you didn’t want children with him, but it just wasn’t convenient with your living situation. Your home was too tiny, and you could barely look after yourself at your age after having been spoilt your entire life by your parents. So babies were out of the question until a later date.

“Are you still awake?” Renjun paused his reading to ask you, his head leaning back to try and see your eyes from where you had your head pressed into his chest.

“Hmm.” You made a short noise to show that you were still listening to him, even if you had lost what was happening in the story, he was telling you. You got lost in your thoughts once more as he started again. You thought back to his past, and about how he told you he was the son of the King. A question popped into your mind that you couldn’t help but ask immediately. “If you’re the King’s first son, then aren’t you the heir to the throne?” You cut him off and he went dead silent as he thought about your words. He didn’t often like to talk about his past, and if it got brought up, he would hurry to change the subject, or he’d distract you with kisses and random flowers that he magicked up out of nowhere.

“No. I’m an illegitimate son that was born out of wedlock. I couldn’t ever sit on the throne, and I don’t want to. It’s not the life for me.” He shrugged, closing the book and setting it down on the table beside the sofa.

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say, so started to look around the cabin awkwardly. You stared out of the window into the dark forest, noticing a pair of amber eyes staring back at you. You remembered back to the time you’d seen them before but had dismissed it as your imagination. You knew it was Snowy’s eyes, as her eyes were a vibrant green, not a threatening amber like the ones staring back into you. You gulped, ripping your eyes away and pulling away form Renjun. “There’s someone…something watching us.” You whispered, a horrible chill rippling through you and settling in the pit of your stomach in a horrible ball of anxiety.

“What?” He frowned, sitting up and reaching for his wand on the table.

“Outside.” You flicked your eyes over to the window subtly, not wanting the creature to know that you were alerting someone of its presence. One thing you’d learned from your time living in the forest was that the habitants of the dangerous woods were very smart. Your stomach dropped further into the floor when the eyes were gone. “It’s gone…” Renjun jumped up and you both went dead silent. You could feel your hands shaking unwillingly as Renjun held a hand out to the fire, turning it from a flickering flame to a dull ember that didn’t give off as much light.

“I’m scared.” You whispered as rustling noises came from outside the wooden walls of the cabin. You gulped, tears filling your eyes as Renjun pulled you to your feet. He wrapped an arm around your protectively, but you knew he was only doing it to comfort you. The rustling circled around the house before coming to a dead stop, the silence eerily haunting you and all you could hear was your own heartbeat thudding inside of your chest. No more noise was heard from outside so Renjun placed his wand on the table once more, going over to the window and drawing the curtain shut.

“It’s gone, probably just a curios wolf. It happens every now and then.” He went back to you and cupped your face in his hands. “Nothing will hurt you as long as I’m still breathing okay?” You opened your mouth to reply, but as you did, the door to the cabin caved in with an ear-splitting noise of the wood splinting and crashing to the floor. You screamed, Renjun pushing you behind him as he made to grab for his wand. In front of you, where the door had once been, was a wolf bigger than any you had seen before. Its fur was as black as a starless night sky. The same amber eyes staring at you as what had been before through the glass of the window. The wolf stared straight at Renjun, not even glancing at you as it bared its teeth. But it made no move to attack either of you. Renjun had his wand raised, staring at the wolf almost as if the two of them were challenging each other. It couldn’t even fit through the doorframe, only its head poking in through the gap where the door once was. You wondered why Renjun hadn’t done anything to get rid of the wolf, not even saying anything as a warning to it. The wolf backed off and disappeared out of sight, leaving you confused and without answers. “Stay here.” Renjun’s voice was stern as he addressed you, his legs moving fast as he rushed through the exit of the cabin.

“Don’t go out there!” You squeaked, not listening to him as you followed him quickly. When your body hit the cool night air you looked at Renjun who was froze on the spot. In front of him was a naked young man, who had hair that matched the wolfs fur, with amber eyes to match. You gulped, not saying anything as you stayed back and watched the two men stare at each other.

“Jeno…” Renjun finally spoke, his voice coming out raspy as his throat had dried up in shock at seeing his brother in front of him.

“Took you long enough to recognise me, considering it was you who did this to me.” The boy growled back, baring his teeth at Renjun like a wolf would. You couldn’t quite believe what was happening in front of you. Renjun had finally been found by his brother and was being confronted about what he did.

“Jeno it was an accident.” Renjun sighed out, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I don’t give a fuck if it was an accident! You ruined my life, and then ran off before I could even find out why the fuck you did this to me!!” He sounded mad, his voice coming out like a growl. He stretched his neck out and took in a deep breath like he was trying to control himself.

“I had to run away; your father would have killed me for what I did to you.”

“Good. I want answers, then I’ll decided whether I let you live or whether I rip your throat out.” Your face crinkled up as he said that, tears falling from your eyes as you realised the severity of the situation. Jeno flicked his gaze to you, and then he looked back at Renjun. “You don’t deserve any happiness.” Renjun sighed, dropping his wand to the floor and slowly approaching Jeno.

“Fine.” He took a deep breath and his shoulders tensed as he starting to explain to Jeno. “Your father killed my mother, and I wanted revenge. I was on my way to get my revenge when you got in my way. I told you to move and you didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark magic that came out of me Jeno. I never wanted to do this to you Jeno…you know how close we were, and I am sorry.” Jeno narrowed his eyes as he listened, his eyes widening once when Renjun blamed Jeno’s father for his mother’s death. He screwed his eyes shut and let out a yell in frustration.

“It makes no fucking sense Renjun!!! Why would my father just randomly kill your mother?!”

“Jeno…you don’t know do you?” Renjun’s voice suddenly sounded very soft, almost like he was on the verge of tears.

“Know what?” Jeno gulped as he waited for Renjun to speak. Renjun took a deep breath and spoke clearly.

“I’m your brother…”

(A/N: Hi! I hope you liked this instalment to the Charia Kingdom series, if you liked it, please reblog it and give me some feedback if you want me to continue on with the series. thank you!)

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cuquitalocita · 4 years

Text

'Tis the Season- Percabeth

AN: Percabeth AU where Sally Blofis is an art teacher and a new student has just moved in down the street. Percy wants nothing more than to spend his Saturday relaxing on the couch with his little sister, but when he meets this new blonde... well, needless to say things weren’t what he planned.

This is based on a real encounter my friend had so thanks Caeden, I hope you learn her name :)

Percy puffed a mouthful of ice-cold air through his conjoined fists as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He glared at the bare wooden door, manifesting it to open as he knocked again with more force this time, suddenly annoyed at everything-; the early hour, the freezing weather, the art supplies his mother had asked him to drop off at her new student’s house- the student that also happened to be his new neighbor, and even the lack of decoration on said neighbor's house.

He couldn’t believe it, but sure enough, his hand had come into contact with the one door in the neighborhood- hell- the one door in New York that didn’t have a wreath on it.

No lights rimmed the house’s massive exterior and no cheesy blow-up Frosty’s or Rudolph’s littered the front yard, no smoke came from the wood-burning chimney which was everyone’s favorite house perk around this time of year, and from what Percy could see through the windows, no extravagantly bright Christmas tree stood anywhere in the house.

Who were these people? And what the hell was wrong with them?

Percy almost felt as if it was a personal attack on himself and his family who always went all out for the holidays starting right as October ended, shoving up the largest tree they could find in the living room and munching on his mother’s delicious blue chocolate chip cookies as he and Estelle decorated the tree.

His little sister had even asked him to let her put the star on the tree this year and Percy had been more than obliged to do so, lifting her up until she sat on his shoulders and reached over his head to set their Christmas in motion.

So as he stared at the cold dark house, he couldn’t help but feeling a negative prejudice against them without having met the people.

Distaste soured his mouth as he rolled his eyes and scooped up the box of heavy art supplies that had been lying at his feet. This time his knock was anything but friendly and something a bit too aggressive for the holiday season. Percy heard rushed angry footsteps stomp through the house before the heavy door flew open as if it was nothing to reveal-

“God what-”

The rest of the words buzz out of comprehension in Percy’s mind as he stared at the blonde in front of him. He wondered if his jaw had dropped to the floor or if he was just imagining the sudden hollowness in his stomach and facial features as though one look from her had made his soul soluble and had phased through his body and onto the ground, ready to be stepped on by her.

She was- well, she was gorgeous.

Wearing simple black leggings and a sweatshirt covered with a flannel and toes covered in fuzzy bear socks. The girl couldn’t have been any older or younger than him if Percy had to guess, but her high and defined cheekbones gave her the illusion of utmost respect and entitlement that also happened to frame her face in the picture of elegance. Her tan skin indicated that she definitely wasn’t from New York or anywhere without too much sun but with her blonde hair it was unlikely that her tan was too genetic. It was wildly curly, stuck in a strange knot she had clearly done up at the last minute, even forgetting some pieces that were sticking out in ringlets that framed her perfect face, some of them even covering up her eyes.

Her eyes.

God, Percy didn’t even know what to think about her eyes or where to start. The sharp gray color like storm clouds that reflected a power he didn’t know a teenage girl could possess? Or the sharp electricity of the calculating gaze they fixed him with? Her eyes held an intensity unlike Percy had ever experienced and he found himself unable to pull away- matching her look with his own, and green and gray met in the middle, colliding in some sort of delightful chaos.

Apparently, she had asked Percy a question- she was now looking at him under raised brows.

“Uh-” Percy managed out. “Sorry, what?”

The girl opened her mouth as if to snap out a retort but quickly shut it tried again, her eyes slipping away from his for a second before returning.

“I asked if I could help you?” she asked, not kindly. But Percy couldn’t have cared less considering that her voice was just about as perfect as her face- smoky and lower than a girls usually was. He knew he could listen to it for hours.

“Hello? Are you conscious?”

Or- maybe not.

Get it together Percy.

“Sorry I’m just- uh, never mind. It’s so cold I think I have a brain freeze,” he tried.

She didn’t laugh, and he couldn’t say he was surprised. But something in her features softened, making her look younger, and the cold sent a blush onto her cheeks.

“So...” she urged him.

“Oh!” he reached into the top of the box to pull out a white piece of paper. “Uh, I’m supposed to give this to... Annabeth Chase?”

The girl inhaled and held out her arms, letting them drop to her sides after a second.

“That’s me.”

Annabeth. And of course, the name had to suit her perfectly, clearly chosen with thought about which two names to mesh together for a child intelligent enough to probably invent a new space shuttle.

“Great.” Percy had managed to find his voice again. “This is for you. From my Mom.” She fixed him with a bemused look and as an explanation, he said, “She’s the art teacher at Goode, and because of the stuff her AP students are doing she usually thinks its easier for them to use her own supplies instead of the crappy public school stuff.”

Annabeth had started nodding halfway through his sentence, clearly picking up the hint quickly enough and before Percy could move an inch, the box was out of his hands and in Annabeth’s arms. She held the weight like it was nothing which Percy- due to the walk there- could say definitely wasn’t true.

“You don’t have to-”

“I’ve got it,” she replied dismissively. “Anything else?”

“Trying to get rid of me so quickly Chase?” he smirked to cover up how fast his heart was pounding as her eyes met his.

“Well you know what they say. When you try and don’t succeed...”

“Ouch!” Percy feigned an injury, clutching his numb hand to his shoulder as if he had been shot. But Annabeth just rolled her eyes and Percy was able to catch the almost unrecognizable tilt to the side of her lip in a small smile. A beat of warmth coursed through him at the sight. “I was also sent to give you...”

Percy picked up the tin container that was on the ground next to Annabeth’s feet.

“These.”

“What are they?” she asked, and her gray eyes took on a curious note.

“They’re your official welcome to the neighborhood- from my Mom. They’re cookies, she makes the best batch you’ll ever taste.” Annabeth’s mouth almost pulled into a smile before flattening out again and when she looked back at him- well, Percy didn’t know what to think.

She arched a brow. “What if I said I’m allergic to gluten?”

Percy smiled, playing along. “I’d say you’re an awful liar and a buzzkill.”

“And if I said I just don’t like chocolate chip cookies?”

“I’d say you’re a psychopath and a witch. How did you know they’re chocolate chip?” When Annabeth smiled, a piece of Percy’s heart seemed to chip off, leaving him breathless at how beautiful it was.

“I guess I can just read you like a book Jackson,” she shrugged then turned her back to him as she looked inside the house as if contemplating something.

“Well, I have to put this inside and I’d rather your Mom didn’t fail me for killing her son, so you can come in.” She didn’t wait for his response before turning and strutting into her house, leaving Percy with no other option but to follow.

He closed the door behind him and relished the warmth of the massive house and before he could look around Annabeth was back at his side and grabbing the tin of cookies from him. She opened the lid and took one out- pausing to observe it.

She adorably quirked an eyebrow upwards. “Blue?”

Percy shrugged, scratching the back of his neck to cover up how red it probably was.

“What’s wrong with blue?”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with blue. Your choice?” she assumed, and Percy could just nod. She was sharp, he’d give her that.

He tried not to watch as she took a bite and her eyes widened a fraction.

“Are you sure your mom is an art teacher and not God? These are amazing!” Percy smiled and rolled his eyes, shrugging. His first Annabeth Chase compliment, and it had been to his mother.

“Every Mom has two things,” he said, and he watched as Annabeth’s gray eyes darkened a fraction.

“No,” she said quietly, finishing off the cookie and dusting her fingers off. “They don’t.” Percy opened his mouth to say something but Annabeth had moved to the kitchen counter and was unpacking his mother’s box.

He glanced around the room in silence, his eyes quickly migrating to a painting he could have recognized anywhere. His feet seemed to fly across the house quicker than ever to observe the painting and his jaw dropped as he realized-

“Annabeth. Chase.” he managed out.

Annabeth spun around and one look at his face had her own turning cold and letting out a broken laugh.

“Of course you recognize the painting. I keep forgetting you’re the son of an art teacher.” Her feet were silent as she walked to stand next to him and observe the painting, her calculating gaze back on display.

“Your mother is Athena Chase?”

“The one and only,” she replied without taking her eyes off of the painting. Angry eyes.

Percy gaped at her, somehow even more impressed with the blonde girl in front of him. If her mother was one of the best painters he had ever seen and she was in a college-level art class- he could only imagine how talented she was. “She’s amazing! I mean- she painted The Eye of Nobody in-”

“Twenty minutes. Yep, I’m aware.” Annabeth’s eyes shot back to his and the fiery anger in them stopped him in his tracks. “And if you’re just gonna stand there and gawk all day, you can look it up on the internet. So if we’re done here...” she began walking towards the door and suddenly Percy was the angry one.

He hadn’t said anything wrong. So why was she suddenly so pissed at him?

The words were out before he could stop them.

“Do you have an issue with me?”

Annabeth’s hand stopped on the handle of the door and she turned back to him, her gaze searing into his face.

“Did I say I have an issue with you?” she snapped.

“You seem like the type of girl who has an issue with everyone,” Percy shot back, suddenly sick of being Mr. Nice Guy.

Since the moment she had opened the door, Annabeth had been colder than the ten-degree weather outside and Percy was just about sick of it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Annabeth folded her arms in front of her and Percy could’ve felt the power and stubbornness in the stance all the way from North Korea, where he would much rather have been at this moment.

“That maybe if you stopped glaring for two seconds people might tolerate you.” The measly seconds that Annabeth had smiled- or even stopped glaring- had made Percy feel warmer than any present on Christmas day, and it seemed to be the one thing Annabeth refused to do.

“Don’t flatter yourself into thinking I care what you think of me Jackson,” she scoffed, and damn if the sound didn’t make him want to kiss her annoying face. Glaring at him in blind anger and she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and Percy was starting to hate her for it.

“Bold of you to assume I was talking about me, Chase. Maybe I was referring to whatever poor soul gets stuck walking next to you on the sidewalk.”

Her eyes flashed.

“It’s cute how ignorant you are. Keep it up. We wouldn’t want anyone to think the Jackson boy is anything less than perfect, now would we?”

“So you do think I’m cute? At least you admit it,” Percy smirked.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, apparently done with this conversation. Her mouth pulled into a cold smirk.

“The only thing that I think is cute is your complete lack of knowledge about anything not having to do with your precious swim team,” she gestured to his Goode High Swimming hoodie, “or what skateboard you’re getting for Christmas this year,” she sneered.

“Oh because you think of much more important things,” he rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t need to meet you to know that I do, Jackson.”

He hid how the comment stung, unable to give her the high ground.

“Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say, Miss Chase. We wouldn’t want you to end up on the naughty list.”

Annabeth gave him a look of pure disgust and yanked the door open, grabbing his arm with so much force that Percy wasn’t ready for how fast he was thrown out the door. Percy ignored the electricity her touch had felt like on his arm as he looked at her again.

“I’ll tell you exactly where you can shove your list.” She arched her brow as if in a challenge and Percy couldn’t help it as a laugh burst out of his mouth and he caught the lift of Annabeth’s before she turned it back down again.

“Well I have to say, bantering you has been fun, it really has. I probably burnt off enough calories to eat an entire tin of cookies again. But that being said, I am sad to announce that it’s time for me to make my departure.”

“An unfortunate event,” Annabeth replied in a monotone voice while rolling her eyes.

Percy ignored her comment. “Aw don’t worry Wise Girl, I know you’ll miss me but no need to fret. I’m sure our paths will cross once more. So with these final words, I leave you.”

“Why, Jackson, do you insist on being such a royal pain in my ass?”

“Well I can’t very well be a peasant pain, now can I? Have you seen this face?”

Annabeth took a step out of the house until they were almost nose to nose, due to her being a step above his and Percy’s heart skipped a beat.

“Indeed I have. You better get going before I change my mind about getting an A and make some changes to that pretty face. And say thank you to your Mom for me. For the supplies-and the cookies.”

Had she said something? Percy was hardly listening with how close they were. She smelled of lemon. Of course, she had to smell like one of the best scents ever.

“Well in that case,” Percy managed to get out.

So Percy forced himself to step back and didn’t mistake the look of victory in the blonde’s eyes as he walked back to the front of her house where the mailbox sat. He turned back one final time.

“I knew you thought I was pretty Wise Girl,” he called out with a wink, and Percy would’ve paid money to see her roll her eyes in such a humorous way again.

“Maybe I was pitying you. ‘Tis the season and all that,” she shrugged, leveling him with a gaze he never wanted to break.

“Have fun with Max, Mrs. Grinch,” was all Percy said as he walked off without hearing the retort he knew she had ready on her tongue.

Because she always had something to say. Annabeth Chase could dish it out as well as she could take it and Percy had never met anyone like her. She was witty and intelligent, and so damn beautiful that he couldn’t resist looking back just in time to see her turn to go back into the house.

And there was no mistaking the expression on her face as anything other than a true, gorgeous Annabeth Chase smile.

And hell if Percy didn’t trip on his own feet and go careening straight into Mr. D’s massive pile of old snow that lay on the side of his house after seeing it. The snow shocked him enough to get out of Annabeth land long enough to dust off the snow and stand again, shaking the wet snow out of his hair when he heard the unmistakable voice of a certain blonde.

“I saw that Jackson!”

‘Tis the season indeed.

ahhhhh!! that’s it! i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it even though i totally strayed from my original idea of a cutie meet cute hehe my bad. but hey, what’s percabeth without a little fighting right?

anyway, thank you so, so much for reading and ily!

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #fanfic

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foxcantswim · 5 years

Text

Timeless Jealousy

13th Doctor x Reader https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981072

A/N: Apologies if this idea has already been done! I also understand that this episode is set in the 1800s... So I can't promise that everything fits in with this time period.

Reader gets jealous after seeing Byron flirt with the Doctor...

-x-

You knew what Byron was playing at. And you didn't like it. Not. One. Bit.

You refused to dance, watching the Doctor and Byron getting just a little bit too close. You gritted your teeth, fists clenching.

"So... that was marvelous. Is anyone up for, I don't know, I'm spit-balling here, how about writing the most gruesome, spine-chilling ghost story of all time?" the Doctor quickly stopped the dancing, wanting to get straight down to business.

Yaz had come over to make sure you were okay, you nodded and assured her that you were fine. You both headed over to the Doctor. The Doctor began to speak, but your thoughts managed to drown out the Time Lord's words. You were focused on Byron who was on the other side of the room.

"Excuse me, Doctor. You broke a rule. Next, you'll be snogging Byron," Yaz stated. That made you flinch slightly. Just the thought made your blood boil.

"I was trying to get them back on track. Something's wrong here. This night, Byron challenges Mary, Polidori and Percy Shelley to come up with a ghost story-" the Doctor spoke. You caught onto Byron, he had been glancing at the Doctor every now and then.

Yaz nudged you to break you away from your stare, "Keep an eye on 'em," she said to you as the Doctor made her way over to Byron, "You and I both know how Byron can get."

She knew about your little crush on the Doctor. Well... 'Little' is an understatement. You decided to deny your crush again, "I don't need to keep an eye on them. The Doc can do what she want-"

"Shut up, (Y/N)," she rolled her eyes, "No matter how much you deny it, anyone can see it."

Well, the Doctor can't see it. Always so oblivious.

Yaz's eyes drifted towards the door, "Don't worry. You two will be fine," she assured before giving you a comforting pat on your shoulder, she then went to leave the room.

-x-

You tried to focus on the sound of the sonic screwdriver, anything to divert your attention away from Byron.

"She walks in beauty, like the night," Byron muttered.

The Doctor continued, "Of cloudless climes and starry skies."

"I'm intensely flattered you're familiar with my work, Mrs Doctor..." Byron grinned. You glared.

"Just Doctor is fine. I'm quite into Shelley's stuff too. He about?" she replied. The tension in the room was thick, and you were the cause of it. You were giving off a slight threatening energy which Byron had clocked onto. He knew that he infuriated you. And he decided to continue.

"(Y/N)?" the Doctor questioned.

Your attention quickly moved from Byron to her, "Y-Yeah?"

She stepped closer, a look of concern clearly present within her eyes, "You haven't spoken much today. Everything all right?"

You nodded, "I'm fine. Well... As fine as I can be in a place like this," you stated as a shiver ran up your spine.

"You sure?" she said, clearly not convinced.

Nodding again, "Cross my heart."

She shook her head, not accepting that answer. Stepping forward, she caught you off guard and grabbed your hand, "Give us a minute," she looked at Byron.

He gave a questionable look before standing aside. The Doctor dragged you out the room and into the hallway. She quickly released your hand before retrieving her sonic screwdriver. She stood close and began to scan you, practically backing you into a wall, "You've been off since we arrived..." she said as a red tint graced your cheeks. The Doctor then shone the sonic into your eyes, trying to get any sort of reading.

"Tryin' to blind me there, Doc?" you squinted, trying to tilt your head away.

She still had a look of concern on her face as she put the sonic away, "Something's bothering you," she decided, "Don't try to lie your way out of this one. I need you to be one hundred percent whilst we're here. Can't have you faltering."

You sighed, "It's noth-"

"(Y/N)," the Doctor glared, "Something is bothering you. You are never this quiet."

"Okay, okay," you said, trying to ignore the little space between you two, "I just... I don't like the way he's looking at you."

"Who?" she said, completely oblivious.

"Byron," you said with venom.

She sighed, before a playful grin replaced the frown, "Ah... I see. Don't worry about that," she stepped back, "We promised not to mess with history, and that's what we're doing."

That wasn't exactly the answer you were hoping for... If this didn't mess with history... Would she be interested in Byron. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts.

The Doctor's smile remained on her face as she reached for you hand again, "I'm not interested in him, okay?" she assured before dragging you back into the room.

-x-

You stayed behind the Doctor as you ran towards the drawing room, Byron was on your heels. You all arrived to see a... hand? Everyone managed to get the hand away from Ryan, Fletcher dished out the final blow. Dust now covered the carpet where the hand used to be.

"Great shot!" the Doctor announced before she made her way over to the remains. You and the rest of the 'fam' knew what was coming next. The Doctor leaned down to take a sample and lick it, "Hmm. 14th. No... 15th century-" the Doctor trailed off.

A smile spread across your face, finding all of the Doctor's little weird quirks fascinating.

"She licked it!" Claire exclaimed.

The smile on your face didn't last long at all, "She is the most baffling creature I've ever been acquainted with," Byron breathed out with a smirk. You glared once more... If looks could kill.

-x-

"If you ask me..." Yaz began as you all made your way towards Byron's chambers. The Doctor was up front with Byron, leading the way. You had stuck at the back with Yaz, "You should just tell her."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Imagine that. Me with an all mighty Time Lord. Never gonna happen," you were surprised that Yaz could hear you over the loud crash of lightning.

"Yaz is right," Ryan said, almost appearing out of nowhere.

Yaz smiled, "Never hurts to try."

You suppressed a groan, really not wanting to be a part of this conversation.

Everyone rounded a corner and soon they arrived. Walking into Byron's chambers made your skin crawl... Anything that related to him was bad in your books.

"It's a collection," Byron explained as people gathered in the room.

"Of what? Dead stuff?" Ryan questioned.

"Relics of war."

The Doctor began to wave the sonic screwdriver around the room, scanning for any abnormalities.

"From my travels..." Byron continued, "Reminders that we tread on the dust of empires. Crops now grow where blood was split. An innocent fascination, I assure you."

Anything he said really seemed to tick you off... You weren't jealous. Definitely not. No. Never.

You noticed the Doctor's face light up, she put on some headgear she had discovered, "What do you think?" she said, practically showing off her new helmet.

"Suits you," you offered her a warm smile, she smiled back in return - seemingly glad that you liked it.

-x-

"Well, he just turned sort of zombie and went into one," Graham said with concern.

"What do you speak of? What is a zombie?" Byron questioned.

The Doctor explained, "Kind of a dead person walking, but it won't be that."

"Hey, Doc?" you said, trying to get the woman's attention as she spoke to Graham via the fireplace chimney.

"How do you know?" Byron wondered.

She replied, "Because Polidori isn't dead, for a kick-off."

"D-Doctor?!" you said, your voice starting to tremble more as you noticed Polidori's figure walking in through the wall.

"Mrs Doctor!" Claire tried to get her attention too.

"Really, just Doctor is fine..."

"Doc, Polidori!" you said, now that she was listening. The blonde turned quickly to see him looking like a ghost.

Byron had decided to hide behind Claire, "Begone, demon!" he exclaimed. You glared at him in disgust before looking back at the Doctor once more.

The Doctor took a cautious step towards Polidori, "Doc-"

She cut you off, looking towards you, "It's okay," she assured before looking back at Polidori. The Doctor then raised a hand to check for a pulse, "Pulse? Check. Breathing? Check."

Byron's voice filled the room, "May I just say..." he started, "You are quite lovely in a crisis."

"No-" both you and the Doctor said. The Doctor looked at you in shock, you did your best to avoid eye contact. Byron and Claire looked between both you and the Doctor, unsure of what to say. Byron ended up smirking, understanding the situation quite clearly.

Claire decided to break the silence, clearing her throat, "So... He could just be- be asleep, correct? He walks in his sleep!"

Byron scoffed, "One does not sleepwalk through walls."

The Doctor quickly diverted her gaze away from you, "H-He doesn't just go through walls. He was downstairs a second ago," she looked at Byron, "What you said before..."

"About being lovely?" he smiled, glancing over towards. You bit your tongue.

The Doctor was growing annoyed, "Back a bit."

"Way way back," you added, glaring daggers.

Byron chuckled, "What a feisty one you have here, Doctor," he said, pacing the room.

"Byron-" Claire began to warn before he hushed her.

"We haven't got time for this," the Doctor groaned, "By-"

"Don't you see, Doctor?!" he said, "I can't think in these conditions. What with your pet staring at me all the time."

"You little sh-" you muttered before the Doctor cut you off.

"I would really appreciate it if you didn't talk to my friends like that," she said, clear anger lacing her voice, "We're trying to help."

"Help?!" Byron said, "All she's done is look at me as if she wants to kill me!"

The Doctor looked at you before you could stop yourself from glaring at Byron once again, "(Y/N)?" she asked, "He's clearly done something to upset you," she stepped closer, "What is it?" The Doctor wasn't too fond with having Polidori in his current state just standing there but she had to get to the bottom of this. Claire kept her eye on the unresponsive man.

"Nothing!" you exclaimed. The Doctor clocked onto your annoyance... "Absolutely nothing!" She also clocked onto the light sadness that glazed over your words.

"Come on, Doctor," Byron said, "We can solve this... Alone."

That was it. Byron was getting way too close to the Doctor. Thinking back on Yaz's words... You reached forward to grab the Doctor's coat, effectively pulling her closer. Your lips crashed onto hers just before she could protest her confusion. The lack of movement on the Doctor's end had you worried.

You could hear Byron's scoff of disgust and shock.

You were about to pull away, happy with your action - clearly showing Byron to back off. But, you were quickly pulled back by the Doctor who was now responding with eagerness - her arms had secured themselves around you.

"Erm..." Claire gulped, "D-Doctor, I-I don't want to... cut you short or anything. But shouldn't we be worried about Polidori."

The Doctor's face retreated from yours quickly, "Of course!" she exclaimed in triumph, her arms were removed from around you, "Why didn't I think of that!"

"Wh-What?" you stuttered, breathless.

"Have you figured all this out Doctor?" Claire wondered.

"Yes!" she said, excited.

Byron was now glaring at you this time as he spoke to the Doctor, "Well don't leave us in the dark. Enlighten us."

"Jealousy!" she shouted.

"J-Jealousy, Doctor?" Claire questioned in complete confusion.

You felt your cheeks heat up as a nervous laughter escaped, "N-Now... Come on, Doc... No time for joking around-"

The Doctor's brain finally caught up with all the recent events, her smile turning into a look of complete shock, "Ohhh... That's why you were acting like this."

"Doc-"

She cut you off again, "You don't need to be jealous. Especially not because of him," she glanced at Byron.

"Can you two focus on the task at hand?!" Byron exclaimed, annoyed.

"I agree," Claire said, "Polidori is still... Not himself."

-x-

Everybody had regrouped in the drawing room after the Doctor had gotten everybody out of their endless loops, most were admiring the skull and hand under the glass that had been recently been captured.

Byron's eyes focused on the Doctor as she made her way over to you.

"Erm... Doc..." you started, leaning against a desk, "I wanted to apologise for my actions earlier. I just wanted Byron to stop interrupting the investi-"

"You have nothing to apologise for," she assured before a curious look appeared on her face, "Is that the only reason you did that? You weren't jealous were you?"

"Pfft, jealous? Me? Never."

"Terrible liar," the Doctor said with a soft smile. Her hand moved to gently cup your cheek as she kissed your forehead. Your heartbeat quickened in response, "Now once all the rubbish is over... and when we get back to the TARDIS we can talk about this."

"O-Okay," you nodded in agreement.

Just when you thought she was going to step away, she did the opposite. She managed to step closer and you soon felt her lips crash against yours, you felt relief wash over you as she portrayed urgency. Both of you knew that you had to deal with the problem at hand, which caused the Doctor to pull away. You missed the contact, but hopefully there would be time for this later.

Both you and the Doctor noticed Byron's glare, "I think it's Byron's turn to be jealous," the Doctor decided as she stood next to you and put an arm around your shoulders, you began to make your way over towards Byron and the others.

You were just itching to just get this over with. You were excited for what the future holds.

-x-

A/N: The sequel would just be Reader getting killed by Cybermen or something like that cuz I really like angst.

#doctor who #13th doctor #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor #reader #13 #jodie whittaker #fanfiction #thirteenth doctor imagine #thirteenth doctor x reader

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theobxhummingbird · 4 years

Text

Unreachable (Chapter 4)

(GIF credits to owner) (A JJ Maybank and Nova Fleming love story)

The morning, John B took the HMS Pogue and arrived at the Cameron's boat, to drop off the scuba gear. After all, the compass had reached him; it was definitely some sort of sign. His dad was alive and John B was sure of it. He parked the HMS Pogue and hopped on the Cameron's boat. The glass door opened and revealed sleeping Sarah. He looked at her and then started walking; the scuba gear making noises. -Wheezie, shut up. -she moved around and rubbed her eyes. But as John B proceeded to walk, the metal hit something, which made Sarah completely awake. -God! You're not...Wheezie. -Correct. Yeah. -he sighs, -I'm sorry. -What are you doing? -Um...I'm just dropping off some scuba gear. Sarah fixed herself and got up in a sitting position. -What-what are you doing here? -It's our boat? It's also the only place with air conditioning. -Right! -Did you, um...top up the tanks? -Uh...No, no, power's down so the compressors were off. -he cleared his throat. -So, you're sneaking onto our boat at 5:00 am with empty tanks? -she said, looking at John B's speechless face. -I'll make sure to tell Ward. -Okay...okay. -he dropped the gear on the floor. -Yeah, yup, the middle of the room is fine. -Yeah...pretty much, that's what he told me to do. Bye! He started to walk, but then took a step back, -Actually...you know what--what exactly were you going to tell your dad. -Nothing much. Just that you poached our scuba gear. -Okay...uh...I borrowed it for a few hours. Okay? And then I brought it back intact and unharmed. -Minus air. -Okay, please don't tell him. He'll fire me. -What are you going to do? Pull a gun on me? -I didn't know JJ would do that. -That's convenient to believe. Maybe you should get better friends. -Well, maybe you should get a better boyfriend. -John B mocked her moves. -Like one who doesn't poach? -Look, please just don't tell him, okay? -Relax. I'm not going to tell him anything. Your secret's safe with me, John B. -they smiled at each other, -Okay, you can leave now. -Right, uh...I'll leave that--right there. -Bye. -said Sarah, pulling the blanket over herself and going back to sleep. After John B left, Wheezie showed up; now, not only Sarah knows about John B's secret.

Nova got ready for work; getting to the Wreck five minutes earlier this time. Her things were settled in one place and she put her waitress uniform on. There weren't many people at the Wreck, so she had time to text Pope about what their plans are for the day. He texted her saying, him and Kie will be at John B's later that day, and they'll be waiting for her there. While waiting for anything to show up that'll have to do with her job, she took out the journal:

-" Being cared about. A feeling I've been unfamiliar with for a long time. Or I might even say, having people who really care about me. After everything that had happened, I'm not scared anymore; let anything rule wars with me. And that, letting people in my life fear? That's long gone as well. Maybe this is not who I am, but who I should be. The person I was; that fearful person, transformed into a completely different body. I'm not scared of having friends anymore; knowing they'll never leave me, because they're just like me. Sometimes, I'm scared of being sure; but, what if that's the only thing I need to be? To be sure that everything's going to be good; to be sure that no matter what toughness comes my way, I'l fight through it; no matter what occurs my home life, I'll be there to fix it. I feel like I should be here; the Outer Banks. The one place I never thought of, is now the place I belong to. How weird..."

-Nova. -said Mrs. Carrera, -How are you sweetie? -I'm doing well, Mrs. Carrera, how are you? -I'm well, thank you. Can you please organize a table; we're having friends from business over? Think you can do that? -Yes, yes of course. I'll reserve it in the garden, like always. -Thank you. Have a nice day. -she said, walking away to the kitchen.

The Pogues had already gathered in the Chateau. Earlier, John B and JJ, visited Ms. Lana's house to ask her if she knows anything about the compass. And the both of them, didn't only see Ms. Lana, but the two men who were shooting at them.

-And we were outside like this. -said JJ, leaning on the fireplace-chimney. -And all we hear is just, "Bam, bam, bam!" Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside. All right? And I'm just looking at him like-- Wait, first off, look at this. JJ shakes his hair, as white dust comes out of his hair. -That's dandruff, disgusting. -said Kie, looking as it falls on the ground. -Okay, thank you. -said Pope, moving him away. -Look at all this, all right. That's paint. At that point, I was just like... I'm waiting for death. -Oh, okay, so you saw the guys that shot us, right? -said Pope. -Yeah. -Did you get a good description of them? What did they look like? -Yeah, anything. -added Kie. -Anything we can bring to a police report? -Yeah. -Burly. -said JJ. -...Burly? -Yeah. You know like-- -That's not very helpful. -Okay, well, no, like the type of guy at my dad's garage. I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers. -Yeah, yes. No, we know. -I can tell you with full confidence,guys. These boys, these killers, -he takes a blunt, -they're square groupers. -They're square groupers, like narco square grouper? Like Pablo Escobar square grouper. -Yeah, man. -You guys, not everything is kingpin movie. -Okay so, what does this square grouper look like? Specifically. -Dude, you weren't there, bro...-JJ raised his voice. -Because apparently, you don't know what to look for! -Dude! -said JJ, -I wasn't taking little mental Polaroids the entire time, man, I was under duress, okay? But I can tell you...I can tell you by the way that Ms. Lana was screaming... that these guys are serious, serious hombres, man. It's a heavy vibe right now, okay? I'm not liking this very much. -Why do they want the compass? -said Kie. -It's a piece of shit. You couldn't pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to. -Pope turned to John B, -No offense. I know it's in your family-- -The office. -said John B. -My dad. My dad's office. He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. We used to laugh at him like he was going to find it. But now that he's gone, I've just...I just left it as he kept it. -Yeah for when he gets back. -Kie eyes JJ and Pope not to say anything. The four of them walk into Big John's office; crowded with research and many books, as well as maps. John B takes a pinboard, to show the amount of owners that had the compass, before it was passed down to his dead. And surprisingly, everyone dies with it. -Hm. Sounds like there's a reccuring theme here. -JJ adds. -Yeah, you have a death compass. -said Pope. -No, I do not have a de- -You have a death compass. -Get rid of it. Seriously, dude? It's cursed and made its way back to you. -My dad used to talk about this compartment in here. Soldiers used to hide secret notes. -John B sat down, twisting the compass and shaking it to see if something falls off. -What's that? -Kie referred to the cap, where there was a writing. -That wasn't there before. This is my dad's handwriting. -How can you know that? -Because he does these weird Rs with the-- See it? -Can I see it? -said JJ, - "Red--Rout--" -No, I think that's an A. -It says Redfield. -said Kie. -Right. -Okay, well, what's Redfield. -Besides the most common name in the county... -Oh maybe--maybe it's a clue. Maybe it's a clue to where he's hiding. -Okay... -A clue? Come on, that's -- Kie shakes her head for Pope not to say anything, that'll bring John B down, -But if it is a clue, maybe it's an anagram? -Yes. Perfect. Anagram. You need paper. -John B reached for paper and pen and gave it to Pope. -How can you concentrate with that thing crowing at you? -said Pope, referring to the rooster in the coop that kept crowing the whole time. -JJ loves the rooster. -I love the rooster. -Okay, let me think. John B took a paper and wennt to the window, where he can easily write on the table. -Seriously, think. -said Kie. -Dedfiel. Colors--That's stupid. -What about... Ritalin? -Dreidel? Fiddler? -Let's stick with what we're...Defile. Does that mean anything to you? -Guys. -John B looks out the window; a car pulling up at his house, next to the Volkswagen, but no one's listening and they keep guessing. -Guys! Somebody's here. Everyone walks over to the window and sees the same guys that shoot them and the ones who beat up Ms. Lana. -Guys, guys, is that them? -No. -Is that them. -This is suboptimal. -Nova's here as well. Damn it! -said John B. -The girl needs to stay there, she'll get hurt. -What? -said Pope, peeking out the see his friend enter the Chateau, -Oh no! -John B, I told you. -said JJ. -Why does it always--JJ! Hey, look at me. -John B pins him to the wall. -Where's the gun? -Gun-uh-I- -Now you don't have the gun, the one time we need the gun? -Kie starts to pace around in panic. -It was in my backpack, and then I-- -Backpack-- On the porch. -It's on the porch. -JJ walks out, but slips over when they start entering the house and goes back to the office. -John Routledge! -Where's the gun? -They're on the front porch, guys. -Nova's going to come in, we're screwed bro. -said Pope, his hands finding their way on top of his head. -We need to help her and get out of here. -Oh no! Guys, window! Window! Hurry, hurry. JJ and Pope run over to the window, trying to lift it up, but it remains stuck. -Why is it taking so long? -It's painted shut, okay. -Routledge! -Guys, guys, here, I got it. -Kie brings an envelope knife and gives it to the boys. -Shh. One of the men walks over to Big John's office and smashes the door. -You better not be in there! He keeps kicking the door and it manages to crack a bit; pulling his gun out and shooting at the mechanism. Nova's eyes shot up at her friends, and JJ quickly intertwines his hand with hers and they run to the chicken coop. The men open the door and look around Big John's belongings, while the Pogues remain quiet in the chicken coop. They come out with some things from the office; loading them in their car. John B peeks to see what they're doing; Kie panicking and crying on his side. But the rooster keeps crowing. -Do something, Pope. Shut him up. -JJ says through greeted teeth, as his and Nova's hand stay intertwined. -What do you want me to do? -Pet it, or talk to it. I don't know. -Kie said. Rutter closes the back of the jeep, and looks over to the chicken coop, taking out his gun after the amounts of time the rooster flies in it and crows. John B sits down next to Kie. -He heard it. -Nova said, squeezing JJ's hand; the clucking continuing as he walks slowly. -JJ...he heard it.

-I got you, emerald girl. -he said, caressing her hair quickly.

-You do something. -Pope whispers. When the rooster flies over, JJ grabs his neck and pins it to the ground, squeezing it hard until it goes quiet. Kie sobs at the sound of it dying and John B puts his hand over hers. JJ comes and intertwines his hand with Nova's, who peeks to see if he's too close to the coop. -Ratter! What the hell are you doing? Let's go. The guy walks over to the jeep and climbs in it, shutting the door. Kie cries and they all breathe heavily, as the engine starts working; John B peeking to see when they leave. Nova sighs, as the five of them leave the coop, still holding JJ's hand. -Sorry, Novs. -Kie hugs her friend tightly; her whole body trembling. -Are you guys okay? Any of you hurt? -she asks looking at them. -Except the rooster, -said JJ, -the rest of us are fine. The three other friends scratch their head, looking at JJ and Nova, who were unaware of the tight grip of each other's hands. When JJ turns around, he sees them all staring at something. -What, bro? -he said to Pope, swinging his hand in front of his face to get him back to reality. While Kie, eyes Nova at their hands. -Uh...-she slips her hand off of JJ's, -sorry...it was in the heat of the moment. -Yeah...at least you didn't, you know, get hurt because of us. -he scratched his forehead. -Let's go guys, get in the van. -said John B, jumping in the driver's seat.

-I mean, it's obvious, right? -said John B, looking partly at the road and partly at his friends, -A family heirloom. What better place to hide a message? He had to know it was going to get back to me, right? -Yeah, it's possible. -It could also be possible, -spoke Pope, -that you're concocting wild theories to help, you know...deal with your sad feels. -Pope? -Bro, you know how I process my sad feels. Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies, that's how I do it. -I'm not concocting, okay?- John B raised his voice, -My dad's trying to give me a message. -If it helps you believe, John B. -said Kie, licking her lips with a small frown curving them. -Look, I-I don't need a therapy session, okay? Look, I'm not tripping out. -It's okay to trip, bro, but-- -Look, my--dad is missing, okay?Missing. You know what it's like to have the person closest to you vanish and then have no idea what happened. Just wake up every morning wondering. -I understand your pain John B, -Nova added, -really, I do. Your situation is different of course, but not having your parent in your life suddenly...it's just... indescribable. -It's been almost a year. -said Kie. -Hey, he could have been kidnapped. That's definitely a possibility. -Or he's somewhere lost on a desert island; looking for help. -Yeah, he could also be in a Soviet sub, getting interrogated by the KGB somewhere. -Absolutely. -JJ agreed, -Uh...or Atlantis. -JJ. -Kie warned him, turning back to John B, -What do you think the message is? -Redfield. Redfield Lighthouse. That's my dad's favorite place. The Volkswagen parked in front of a big lighthouse; the five of them exiting it and coming in front of the Redfield Lighthouse. -Right. -John B turned to JJ, -You're going to post up and look out for bogeys, okay? -Wait..why me? -Because you're not coming. -said Pope. -Why? -There are independent and dependent variables. And you're an independent. We don't know what you're going to do. -Shut up! Shut up! -Listen to me for a second. Pope, you stand look out with JJ. Okay? Nova will be here too, we won't put her in more danger. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ's house. -Great. -said Kie, stepping away together with John B. -I'm gonna work on my merit scholarship essay and I'm trying to keep felonies to a minimum. -All right Pope, would you just shut up already. -said JJ, juggling a pinecone. -Leave the kid be, already. -said Nova, leaning against the van. She looked up at the sky, observing the blueness. -Nova. -Pope came over to her, - Can we talk about something, so JJ cannot complain, because there's the two us? -Sure. -she said, looking at Pope, -Open a topic. -For example...um... what's the possibility, John B finds what he's looking for in that Lighthouse? -In my opinion, he's looking at the wrong place, since the easiest way you find it, is always the wrong place. Big John must've known he'll find this place easier, and left it to a more secretive place than the lighthouse. Maybe there's another place called Redfield. Or maybe I'm just making up my own theory. But something about this place, doesn't feel right to me. -What feels right to you anyways? -said JJ. -Unassuming guys? Safety? It could be. -said Nova. -Wait...what's the deal with you two anyways? -said Pope. -Ms. Nova shall explain the unwanted situation. -No, I know what happened, just why do you have to hate each other? -I don't hate JJ, he's being all presumptuous the whole time. -I don't trust you, okay? Maybe you're Rafe Cameron's secret girlfriend and spread the information all the way to him and then he tells his dad. -I have no idea what Rafe Cameron looks like in first place. I've only seen Sarah and Wheezie, but not Rafe. So stop making assumptions. -You know what, I think you love each other. -Pope, you can't love a person that you met just a few days ago, it's impossible. -Love at first sight? -Yeah bro, you believe in that shit? -Uh, yeah, since you're arguing like a married couple, a person wouldn't think other. -Let's just look out for bogeys and leave these topics for a different time. -Nova said and started looking around to see if she spots an intruder. Suddenly, she hears sirens and spots a police car. -Oh shit! -Pope and JJ start running, leaving Nova behind. -Guys! My foot. -she tries to pull it from the branches. JJ runs back to her, cleaning away the branches from her foot and running back to the van hand in hand with Nova.

After a long time of not coming, JJ, Pope and Nova looked over at the sound of a horn. John B with the van. -Let's ride! -he yelled as the three of them loaded in the van. -This better be good, bro. They drove to the Wreck, where Pope went inside to get Kie. -She said she's not coming. -What'd you do to her, John B? -Shit. Hang on, I'll deal with it. -he opened the door and stepped outside, going to Kie. Suddenly, Nova's phone buzzed and she got a text from Kie saying: "John B kissed me." -Oh! -Nova yelled at JJ's ear, making him jump. -Yo, what is wrong with you, emerald girl? -Just...sudden shock and surprise...sorry.

-You mind if I just relax on this one? -said JJ from the back of the van, -It's been a long day, and a lot of weird stuff's gone down. I'm just going to lay low. Oh, did you want a hit of this? -I keep the signal clear. -said Pope, pushing away JJ's hand. -You, emerald girl? -I keep the signal clear too. -Dude, okay. Do you understand that your problem is that you don't get creative? -said JJ, as Nova rolled her eyes, dropping her head back against the van. -If you got creative, then-- -Look, I--I know I was wrong about the lighthouse, all right? And pretty much wrong about everything else going on. But, I--I was right about one thing. Okay? My dad is trying to tell me something.

-Come on, hey. -said John B in the darkness. -Hey, come on. -I'm coming. This place is scary. -said Kie, stepping out of the van. -I feel like in a Scooby-Doo mystery hunt. -said Nova. -John B what are we doing? -Shut up. Okay. You know how you're trying to remember a song and can't remember who sings it? -Yeah? -So, Redfield. This whole time I thought it was a place, right? But it's not a place. It's a person. -he lights the lantern up to a grave stone, with the name 'Redfield'. -Voi-effing-la. -said JJ. -It's my great-great-grandmother. Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name. -Help me with the door, come on. One...two...three. -John B and Pope push the door slightly open. -Are you pushing? -said Pope, grunting as he pushes the door. -Yeah, I'm pushing. -Come on. -Hold on. I got it. -JJ comes over for help. -Come on, this door's like 700 pounds. It's not going to budge. -We didn't come this far to get this far, all right? -Whoa! -Pope jumps back, as a snake appears from a crack. -A snake! -Whoa, whoa, whoa! -That's a moccasin, all right. Ye olde Dr. Cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. -JJ starts barking to the snake. -JJ, shut up. Shut up! -Oh my god, it's going to bite him, what is he thinking? -said Nova, trying to nudge him to move back. -You're going to freaking wake the dead, man. -They're afraid of dogs. Everyone knows that, man. Wait, hold on, hold on, hold on. -What? -John B and Kie say at the same time. -If there's one, there's probably dozens. All around. -What? -Stop. You're scaring me. -Kie said, as he continued barking. -Stop barking at the snakes. -Shut up! John, look. We're not going to get in there, all right? It's not budging. -I can get in if you want to; I'm not afraid of snakes, did a lot of lab experiments on them. -offered Nova. -No, you're not going in there, emerald girl. Not risking your life for the third time today. You’re staying here with us. -JJ was quick to react.

-Okay, mommy. -said Nova, getting a side glare from JJ.

-We should probably just go. -I can get through. -said Kie. -What?No,no,no,no. You think you're gonna fit through the hole? That hole? -said John B. -Look this is about your dad. And honestly I really don't believe in it, but you deserve to know the truth. I'll do it. Come on. -she walks closer to the grave. -Give her a boost. -I'm going to boost you, all right. -JJ kneels a bit, -I've seen it in the movies several times. Ready? -Remind me what we're looking for. -You'll know when you see it. -Hold my flashlight. -she gives it to Nova. JJ boosts her up and she goes into the grave. -Okay, flashlight? -I got it. -Nova reaches in and hands it to her. -You alive? You got like, a --a heartbeat and everything? -So far. -she looks around. -Uh I need some more light. -Yeah, yeah, here, I got you. -said John B, reaching his lantern inside. -Did you find something? Is there gold? -Oh my god. -said Kie, walking over to a place and stunningly looking at something.

#outer banks fan fiction #theroyalmerchant #redfield #jj and nova #jj maybank fan fic #john b #kiara #pope #nova #jj #theobxhummingbird

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ladylynse · 5 years

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For @zutara-dumpster-hours (since I’m assuming this is the relevant blog). Happy birthday, Tali! You wanted to see something in the ATLA role reversal AU with Sokka trying to join the Gaang, so here you go.

Sokka wants to make up for his past actions, to join the Gaang, and Azula is having none of it.

Also on FF and the AO3.

-|-

“We’re not alone,” Toph said, stopping in her tracks and nearly causing Zuko to bowl into her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Azula said sharply, and Toph pointed a finger at the wall of rock ahead of them. Azula had thought they were safely within the Earth Nation, far from any patrols the Water Tribe might have sent out. They were walking now to give Appa a break from flying, but they weren’t on known trade routes; they were specifically avoiding the paths on any map she’d ever seen. As far as she could tell, they were a day’s walk from the nearest village, but—

“There’s someone in there.”

“Inside the cliff?”

“We’re in the Earth Kingdom. It’s not just a cliff. Someone built rooms inside. I’d guess it’s an old bunker if we weren’t so far from the old front lines.”

“So someone’s home? Whoever built this place?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s abandoned and we’re not the only visitors.”

Azula looked at Aang. “We can’t risk the Water Tribe finding you. Zuko can check it out.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t hey me,” Azula shot back. “If they’ve sent that crazy old blood bender after us again, you’re going to need my lightning to neutralize her. Unless you’ve suddenly figured out how to do it?”

“Crazy old blood bender?” Toph repeated. “What happened to you guys?”

“It’s…kinda a long story,” Aang said, the apology in his tone, but Zuko snorted and contradicted him.

“It’s really not. Her name’s Hama, and we think she’s the one who taught Katara to blood bend. It’s exactly what it sounds like. She can turn you into a living puppet. We’re lucky she didn’t kill us all the first time.”

“Uh, guys?” Toph interjected, but Azula wasn’t going to let Zuko leave it at that.

She sniffed. “I wasn’t with Zuko and Aang when she ambushed us, which gave me the opportunity to catch her by surprise, and the old hag is as susceptible to lightning as everyone else.” She turned back to Zuko. “Which is why you need to investigate.”

“Because I’m suddenly the most disposable?”

“Guys!” Toph stamped her foot, and the rock in front of them split. She pointed ahead of them again.

Azula followed her finger, and her heart jumped into her throat. She moved in front of Aang, knew Zuko was doing the same to guard his other flank, and both of them readied themselves to fight.

“It’s okay,” Aang said. “He’s alone. Right, Toph?”

“Right.”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Sokka said, sounding remarkably put together for someone who’d just fallen through a window that had once been a wall of rock. Azula supposed it said something about his composure, about his upbringing, the way he simply stood up and dusted himself off as if it were nothing, but she hated him for it. And I’m not here to hurt you? Azula nearly sent a lightning bolt at him for daring to presume that they’d fall for a trick like that after everything they’d been through.

“Sure,” she bit out. “Of course you aren’t. Because you’ve never tried to kill or capture us before. That was someone else, like your crazy sister.”

“Katara’s not…. Well, she wasn’t always. But I’m not here to make excuses for her or for me. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, and I want to make up for it.” He hesitated. Another acting job. She kept her anger under control, ready to let it lash out all at once. “I…I came to join you, if you’ll have me.”

“We won’t,” Zuko said flatly before she could open her mouth. “Now how did you find us?”

“Consider it a show of good faith,” Azula snarled when Sokka didn’t immediately volunteer the answer.

“I was guessing,” Sokka started, and she sent a small burst of flame past his shoulder—a warning shot, and it was with some satisfaction that he flinched away.

“Try again,” she ground out.

“Look, I…. I know what you’re doing. I know you’re trying to get in touch with sympathizers in the Earth Kingdom to get enough supplies for the next leg of your journey. I know you’re making your way to the southernmost peninsula before you set off over the water—”

“So that’s where your sister plans to ambush us?”

“Azula,” Aang said quietly, “let him talk.” He glanced at Toph and added, “There still isn’t anyone else around, Toph?”

“Just us. He really did come alone. I think he fell in through the chimney, too.” A grin grew across her face. “Unless you got yourself stuck inside on purpose?”

Sokka’s answering smile was sheepish, and Azula didn’t trust it for a second. “I was rigging something up. I would’ve gotten out soon.”

More likely, he was strategizing and trying to catch them unawares. She still couldn’t believe he’d found them. They’d been so careful not to leave a trail. It’s another reason they weren’t flying everywhere they could, even though they’d be able to cover more ground that way. So what wasn’t he telling them?

Before Azula could say any of this, Aang had stepped forward and was gently nudging her and Zuko to the side. “Why do you want to join us?”

Sokka picked at the wrapping around his left wrist for a few seconds, not meeting their gaze, before finally whispering, “Because I don’t think I’m on the right side of things.”

“Well, you aren’t,” Azula spat.

Aang put a hand on her arm, and she bristled but quieted. “Go on,” he prompted.

“Life was always…hard,” Sokka said, ignoring Azula’s snort and Zuko’s bark of laughter. Instead, he raised his eyes to meet Aang’s. “Katara is strong, the strongest water bender in our tribe to be born for generations, but the expectations placed on us, her especially, are unachievable. She’s never seen to be as good as she needs to be, so she keeps working, and she gets better. You won’t be able to beat her without help. Especially not if you come to fight her on her own turf.”

Azula couldn’t keep quiet anymore. Did he think they were idiots, that their planning was for nothing? She wasn’t about to tell him their plan, of course, but he really didn’t think anything of them if he thought they were going into this without any sort of plan. “Because she’ll just turn us into puppets and kill Aang when he can’t move to defend himself?”

“Katara can only blood bend under the full moon. She’s good, but she still needs to be at her strongest to do that.”

Azula blinked. They hadn’t realized that. Sure, Hama had ambushed them at night, and it had been a full moon then, but they’d assumed she’d struck at night to try to catch them off guard. They’d assumed she’d wanted the moonlight not just for the strength it gave her but for the light it would give her to move around. If she hadn’t had that argument with Zuko, if she’d been in camp with the rest of them….

“I can help you,” insisted Sokka. “Aang, you still need to learn how to water bend, don’t you?”

“You’re a non bender,” Zuko said. “How can you teach water bending?”

Sokka crossed his arms. “I know the forms.”

“Bending is about more than just forms,” Azula snapped. “Not that I’d expect you to know that. It’s about feeling and intention as much as it is form.”

“And I sat through the same classes as Katara when we were younger,” Sokka countered, “and watched more even after it was clear I wasn’t a water bender. I can teach Aang if he’ll have me.”

“You should give him a chance,” Toph said quietly. “You need a water bending teacher, and we can’t afford to be picky.”

“We can’t afford to trust him, either,” grumbled Azula, “after what he’s done to us.”

“I don’t expect you to trust me,” Sokka said. “I’m only asking that you give me a chance to atone. How much do you really know about the Water Tribes? Do you know anything about our strategies? Our weaknesses? You don’t even look like you could make it through our defences. You don’t need to worry about Katara if you can’t make it that far.”

“We’re not telling you what we know,” Zuko said. “How stupid do you think we are? We’re not going to—”

“We don’t need to tell him our plans before we find out everything he has to offer,” Toph interrupted, “but you two don’t need to keep shutting him down before we—or at least Aang—hears him out. This isn’t an ambush. I’d know. He’s alone. And if he found us this time, he could find us again even if we try to leave him behind.”

“I can’t believe you’re going along with this!” Azula exclaimed, throwing up her hands and hoping Toph had half an idea of how much she was glaring at her right now.

“I’d say I can’t believe you’re not letting Aang have a say in this when he’s the Avatar, but you’re you, so that would be a lie.”

“Toph!”

“Toph’s right, Azula,” Aang said. “I need a water bending teacher.”

“Your water bending teacher should actually be a water bender.” Azula saw Sokka flinch at her words, but she didn’t care. So what if that was a sore point for him? It was the truth.

And for a non bender, he was dangerous.

Something Toph and Aang seemed to be forgetting.

That boomerang of his wasn’t just for show. He could use it and use it well, potentially incapacitating a bender who didn’t see his attack. She had never let him get close enough to get into any hand to hand, but she didn’t doubt his combat skills on that front, either. For all she knew, he was as good as Ty Lee, or nearly so.

And trusting him just seemed to be such a phenomenally bad idea.

Aang was too soft, too trusting, and she couldn’t let him make this mistake. She turned her head slightly to find Zuko already looking at her. He gave a slight nod, his lips pressed tight in an expression with which she was painfully familiar. He was ready to fight, just as she was.

They’d have to separate Sokka from that boomerang of his first. She didn’t want to doubt Toph’s skills after what she’d seen her do, but Azula wasn’t going to risk Sokka taking out their earth bender. Aang was pretty good now, but Toph was far better. Azula didn’t plan to sacrifice any of her friends, but the truth of the matter was, she and Zuko were more expendable than Toph. There were two of them, and if they had to, one of them could see Aang through this. He didn’t have to have two fire benders by his side.

She shifted her weight to adjust her form and saw Zuko mirroring her. Sokka noticed but was too late to react. And by the time the cry of protest left Aang’s lips, fire and lighting were already racing towards the relentless hunter who’d dogged their steps for so long.

If he wanted to come along, well, he could do that as their prisoner—their hostage—instead of as their friend.

It might have worked if the earth hadn’t suddenly closed around Sokka, protecting him, while simultaneously swallowing her and Zuko until they were up to their armpits in sand.

“I’m calling a time out,” Toph said as the earth around Sokka shifted, freeing his face but still trapping the rest of him. “Aang, you can let these guys out once you have your answers. I’m going to get some water. See if you can figure this out while I’m gone.”

Struggling got her nowhere. “Toph! This isn’t funny!”

“Neither is frying people we need on principle.” Toph raised one hand in a wave as she walked past. “Have fun.”

“Aang, are you going to get us out of here?”

Aang shifted on his feet. “Um, soon, but maybe, ah, Toph has a point. About talking. And I really do need a water bending teacher.”

“I can’t believe this,” Azula muttered, except that wasn’t true. She could believe it. This was Aang, after all. Even after everything Sokka had done to them, Aang would be willing to give him another chance. That’s just the way he was.

Whether she liked it or not, Sokka was going to be Aang’s water bending teacher. And she and Zuko might not trust Sokka as far as they could throw him, but if he was going to join them, at least she could count on her brother to have her back—and have an extra of eyes on Aang’s, just in case.

(see more fics | part 2)

#atla #atla au #role reversal au #aang #azula #sokka #zuko #toph beifong #fanfiction #atla fanfiction #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #atla snippet #happy birthday Tali!

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drakewalkerfantasy · 5 years

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A family Christmas (Beckett x MC, Thomas x Katrina)

Annotation: This is Christmas Eve and Katrina invited both her brother and his roommate to celebrate this holidays with her and her new family. Her fiancée and two daughters her and his. Does she has some secret motives of inviting seemingly stranger to join their family reunion? What secrets will this evening reveal and what reaction will have everyone on the news announced? Will here be a kiss under mistletoe and who will kiss whom? Or this will be just simple evening spend as a family.

Author note: I would love to say a huge thank you to @fluffy-marshmallow-heart for the perfect name to this one shot and to @annekebbphotography for a moodboard I loved it from the first sight :) Also this fanfic is a part of my ongoing at the moment Series Consequences but you don’t need to read it to be familiar with what will happen in this one shot.

English isn’t my native language so please forgive any errors you see. I tried no proofread as much as possible. Also I know I’m kind of late to the party, but I really want to submit this fanfic for two days of @jlpplays1-41daysofcheerchallenge for Day 8: Family and Day 32: Expecting

Words: 4052

Warnings: *fluff/make out*

It was Christmas Eve, and Beckett was pacing around their living room. He was stopping here and there to throw a subtle look toward Maeve, who was sitting on a built-in window seat, seemingly occupied with reading the book. Her legs tucked under her, a warm blanket thrown over her laps. He ran his hands through his hair oblivious to the questioning look she has thrown in his direction.

The nervous habit of his, noted Maeve, biting her lower lip, watching how his hand ran through his hair again.

"What is wrong?" She asked, closing the book, and turning her attention fully on the man in front of her.

"Why--- why do you think that something is wrong?" He asked, and his hands raked through his hair. His heart thundered audibly.

“Because you paced in front of me like a wounded animal for at least half an hour without even saying a word.”

Not to mention, you look all dishevelled and nervous, thought Maeve, taking in his appearance.

“I— I didn’t,” Beckett tried to protest, catching her sceptical gaze. “Okay, I may have paced— but I wasn’t nervous. I was thinking,” hesays, swallowing hard before sitting next to her on a comfortable Window seat. “I— I just wanted to ask you— I mean Katrina wondered if you—would you like to join us for celebrating Christmas? I mean, if you— if you have no other plans.”

“Are you asking me out?” Maeve smirked, raising her eyebrows.

“No… it’s not what I meant. I mean…,” he groaned in frustration, feeling flustered from her question. His hands raking through his hair once again, dragging them down his face. “You are impossible,” he mumbled in his hands before starting to get up. “Forget it, I will tell Katrina that you have other plans,” he says, ready to leave when he felt a small hand catching his, pulling him back to the seat.

“Beckett, I will gladly join you and your sister’s family for a celebration. Thank you for the invitation,” she murmured, hesitantly placing a soft kiss to his cheek, taking him by surprise.

“Are... are you sure that you don’t mind to spend the holidays with my sister and Thomas? And--- and me, of course. It's just for an evening--- I mean dinner,” Beckett started to babble, blushing. The pleasant tingling still lingering on his cheek where her lips touched his skin.

“Beckett, stop babbling,” Maeve laughed lightly, meeting his gaze. “I like your sister’s company, and Thomas seems a very nice guy. Besides, I love their little mischief-makers. So since your sister kindly invited me to join your celebration. I will gladly accept,” she murmured before starting to babble herself. “If you don’t mind, of course. She is your family, after all, so if you think this will be weird then---I will totally understand if---,” she spoke, stopping when she caught his amused gaze, smiling sheepishly at him.

“Who is babbling now?” Beckett asked, raising his brow, a soft smile touching his lips, and they looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. “And I don’t mind,” he said, his cheeks flushing from the eagerness lacing his voice. And he cleared his throat before adding in a more calmer tone, ignoring the way his heart still pounded. “I just thought you may have other plans with your family and friends, that’s it. Don’t you have any?”

“No, I don’t,” she shook her head, continuing to explain. “My mom is working during the holidays’ season, while Shreya and Griffin both left to visit their families. So...”

“Then... then I’ll meet you in an hour. If this is sufficient enough for you to get ready? Their home is in a nearby town but still some time away, and with snow forecast and ice-covered roads, we really need to get ready soon if we don’t want to be stuck in traffic. But if this is too short notice, I can wait. Take as much time as you need,” he babbled again, till he felt a small hand softly placed on top of his.

“Beckett, I’ll see you in an hour,” she murmured, leaving for her room.

It was an hour later when he stood downstairs, waiting for Maeve, checking his watch for the hundredth time. Unconsciously, raking his hand through his hair till he heard a soft chuckle from behind.

“Are you nervous?” Maeve giggled, watching how the tips of his ears started to turn pink, and he turned around to reply.

“Just so you know, I’m not nerv—-,” the words froze on the tip of his tongue. And he felt how the wind was knocked out of his lungs when his eyes landed on the girl in front of him.

Her golden hair was put into a curly updo, and her lips were glossy and pink like a beautiful rose. Her bronze dusted cheeks wore a natural blush, and her smoky eyes met his hesitantly. Her hands reached to the hem of her mid-thigh’s loose sweater dress with a white snowman on the red field. Her hands fiddling with the hem, what he noticed, she did when she was nervous. The pair of black knee-high boots completed her look. She smiled at him shyly, taking a step closer to him, letting him help her to put a coat.

“You didn’t tell me what dress code you usually have for Christmas. So--- I hope this is to your satisfaction.”

“You--- you look amazing,” he whispered hoarsely, the words leaving his mouth even before he could stop them. And his hands lingered on her shoulders for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “I mean--- your dress is amazing,” He corrected himself hastily, a soft blush touching his cheeks.

“Sooooo, what plan do we have?” Maeve asked curiously when they finally left the house. “Are we taking two cars or just one. And if just one, then who is driving?”

“We can take my car if you don’t mind. And I can drive us to them. But on the way home, you can drive it,” Beckett suggested.

“Sounds perfect,” Maeve replied before taking a passenger’s seat.

The drive to the place took a little bit more than two hours, and they finally pulled into a driveway near to the two-story redbrick cottage. A small chimney poked out of the snow-dusted roof, and there were two little windows with plants on either side of the entrance that had an iron door knocker in the shape of the fallen star and a soccer ball. There was a greenfield on the side of the driveway with a children's playground off the road. The field and the driveway were already covered in a thin layer of snow. And it was still unhurriedly falling from the sky.

Getting out of the car, Beckett looked around. And a sigh left his lips. He was happy for his sister, and he hoped that someday he will be as happy as she is with a family of his own and a place that he could call home. Free from his mother, who was still trying to control every aspect of his life, still trying to meddle into something, in which she did not have a say. He was lost in thoughts until he was pulled out of them by a gentle touch on his elbow. He could feel the warmth from Maeve’s touch spread through his body, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks before he cleared his throat.

“Shall we?” Beckett asked, offering his hand for Maeve to take.

Without saying anything, she placed her hand on top of his. Their fingers interlacing, and the faint blush touched her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, they went toward the front door, trying to step carefully on the icy stairs leading to it, hearing excited children’s voices coming from the inside.

As soon as he reached for the door knocker, the door swung open, and two laughing children rushed at Beckett, who only had time to crouch in front of them, grabbing the girls and effortlessly lifting them into the air.

“Girls, let him go. It’s not very nice to meet your guests like that,” Katrina laughed, coming into the view, followed by Thomas. “Sorry, Bean,” she said, ignoring his attempt to object and giving him a kiss on the cheek before warmly hugging Maeve. “I’m so happy my brother finally got the courage and asked you to join us. I was nudging him for weeks,” she said, and Beckett felt how the tip of his ears turned pink, and he mumbled something inaudible.

“Glad you both could make it,” Thomas said, shaking Beckett’s hand and kissing Maeve’s, making both little girls erupt in a fit of giggles.

“Girls, be nice,” Katrina warned them, warmly raising her eyes at her fiancé, the silent dialogue passing between them before she turned back to girls leaning on their level. “Now, go to the kitchen and continue to chop more chili for Pozole. I’ll be back in a moment. I’m sure Beckett and Maeve would appreciate some quiet time in the study room to relax after their drive.” Katrina said to the girls, nudging them gently in the kitchen’s direction, and sending a meaningful look towards Thomas once again.

“It’s another thirty minutes till dinner will be served, and I’m sure you are tired from your journey,” Katrina said, looking after Thomas with a gentle smile before turning back to Beckett and Maeve.

“We can help,” they said in unison but were interrupted by Katrina, who ushered them on the second floor.

“You are our guests, so just relax, and I send girls after you when it will be time for dinner. Beckett, relax. I promise this won’t take long,” Katrina laughed, opening the door and looking at her brother, who shifted uneasily on a threshold before coming inside, followed by Maeve.

When they entered the study Beckett’s eyes widened in awe, landing on a massive oak bookcase along the wall. He had so many questions for Katrina he wanted to ask but before he could she left the study closing the door behind. Leaving the two of them in the privacy of the room lit only by the Christmas lights and the warm glow of the crackling fireplace. They shared an astonished look before Maeve turned her gaze at the books lying on the shelves, starting slowly move along the bookcase. Her attention was completely drawn to the variety of books that Thomas had, trying to ignore the way Beckett’s presence made her feel in the intimate atmosphere. But still feeling him with every bone and cell of her body, feeling the air electrifying in the room. His eyes not leaving her, admiring the way how the lights played in her hairs, bewitched by the way her fingertips gently grazed over the books’ bindings looking for the one that would catch her attention. She could feel him slowly move closer to the bookcase, picking one of the books he noticed from afar, filling the room with the rustling of pages. The books’ smell soothing her nerves, making her heart to calm, and she didn’t realize when the distance between the two of them got shorter.

Finally, after some time, she spotted the book in an old leather binding, stopping for a moment to take it from the shelf before turning around bumping straight into Beckett’s firm chest. His hands wrapped securely around Maeve’s waist, the book falling from his hand. His eyes darkened, locking on hers, and their hearts started to beat faster.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” she whispered, feeling how her voice betrayed her, and she raised her eyes, her gaze landing on the mistletoe right above them. The silent ohhhh left her lips, and her eyes widened, meeting Beckett’s. “I think--- you know, so not to break a Christmas tradition we… we must kiss,” she said, pointing him on the mistletoe above them, watching how his face flushed. Feeling how her own cheeks became warmer, and she lowered her eyes, trying to avoid his gaze.

Her heart thundered inside her chest, and her pulse rising, when she felt his knuckle resting under her chin, tilting her head up. His head inclined a little and his eyes meeting hers his blood setting aflame when she nibbled on her lower lip, rolling the pink flesh between her teeth. The air crackling with a tension between them, and he slowly lowered his head, his lips brushing hers in a fleeting kiss before pulling back slightly, murmuring against her lips. Their eyes closed, and their foreheads pressed together.

“If tradition obliges us to do so… who am I to decline,” whispered he, his lips meeting Maeve’s once again, hesitantly at first, breaking the kiss for a moment to look her deep in the eyes. Looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation in her eyes, but meeting none.

His thumb tentatively ran along her jaw before cupping the side of her head. Their eyes locked on each other breathing the same air, and his pulse quickened. He could feel how his head started to spin, intoxicated by her closeness, and he felt this inevitable pull between them. The one he felt every time they were close, the one he tried to resist these past months but this time--- this time he did not want to fight it anymore. Slowly he pulled her closer toward him, and their lips met. His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, silently asking her for permission to enter, feeling how her lips parted invitingly, and he slipped his tongue inside. Their kiss deepened, and his hand slide along the curves of her body, cupping her backside. Her body molding into his perfectly, and he groaned into their kiss, forgetting for a moment where they were. Their kisses growing heated, the fire of passion igniting between them, their tongues dancing together, and their lips move in unison. He groaned bringing her closer to his body, letting her know exactly what she was doing to him. His hand running lower along her body oblivious to the two pair of eyes watching them, until a fit of giggles broke them apart. And they heard a two set of legs running downstairs, cheerful scream following them through the house.

“Daaaaaad, uncle Beckett trying to swallow Maeve’s face, as you do sometimes with mum’s,” Luz giggled on the way downstairs, taking two steps at the time. Beckett’s eyes met Maeve’s with horror pooling in them. His cheeks visibly darkened with a blush, watching how unsuccessfully she tried to hide a chuckle behind her arm. And he could hear Thomas stammering voice ringing from the kitchen, followed by Katrina’s laugh.

“Luz, we… I… how? You aren’t supposed to see this,” he spattered, feeling how his face started to burn, turning crimson, looking at Katrina for support but getting met by her laugh.

Beckett and Maeve stood in a study room, looking at each other the silence hanging between them.

“I think we got carried away a little,” Maeve spoke first, a soft blush touching her cheeks and her eyes shining in such a way that left Beckett breathless. He took a step closer to her once again, his heart thundering in his chest, feeling how something changed between them, in this room, the mistletoe still hanging above them.

“I think they came up to let us know that dinner is served,” he whispered. His eyes dropping to Maeve’s lips, and he licked his own, feeling that they became dried out, and he swallowed hard. “We are still standing under it,” he nodded toward a plant. His lips brushed against hers before meeting them in a lingering kiss, not able to stop it even if he would want. It took them another couple of moments before they finally parted, pressing their foreheads together, Beckett’s hands still resting on Maeve’s waist, their eyes closed. “You go first,” Beckett whispered hoarsely, nudging her lightly toward the door.

“Don’t you think they are quite aware of what we were doing here? I bet your sister orchestrated all of this,” she said, rolling her eyes and stepping aside from Beckett to place a book back to the shelf before leaving the room.

A moment later, she felt Beckett catching up with her. His hand brushing hers before they enter the kitchen, blushing slightly when they were met by smirking gazes from Thomas and Katrina. The girls giggled, whispering something to each other before jumping from their seats excitedly, approaching Beckett and Maeve.

“Dinner is ready, may I ask, what took you so long?” Katrina asked. Her eyes met Beckett’s who lowered his gaze. His cheeks flushed, and the glossy pink lipstick was smeared over his lips, noticing the knowing glimpse in Katrina's eyes. But before he could reply anything, he felt two small hands taking his, watching Lydia grabbing Maeve’s hand and pulling them both toward the dining area.

In a moment, they stood in a cozy dining room festively decorated. His eyes widened when he looked around. The Christmas lights were lit around the room, the big Christmas tree stood in the corner, and a pile of wrapped gifts lay under the tree. And in the middle of the room stood table with various bowls and utensils on it emanating a divine smell from it. Not even a minute passed when they heard Katrina and Thomas calling them, bringing the plates of hot meals, and inviting everyone to take their seats around the table.

“You want to say that you made it all by yourself? As--- with your own hands?” Beckett asked, looking incredulously on the table in front of them laid for six persons.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Katrina chuckled, serving to everyone the main course.

“I just guess, I never expected you to become a cook,” Beckett smiled, taking a spoonful of Pozole feeling arresting flavor tickling his taste buds. His eyes closed in pleasure, and he moaned with delight. “Wow, Katrina, when did you become such a great cook?” he asked, raising his eyes to meet his sister's.

“I can’t take all the credit, brother. Say thanks to my little helpers over here and Thomas,” she replied, winking at girls.

“Yes, I and Lydia cut the chili peppers,” Luz said proudly. “And we also made a coo---,” she started to say before cease talking, catching Katrina’s warning gaze.

“What did you do----?” Thomas asked suspiciously, watching girls share conspiratorial smiles.

“Mum asked not to tell you, but you will find out soon,” she said, smiling proudly.

“Wait, did I imagine it, or did she call you mom for the second time today?” Thomas whispered to Katrina, watching her nod. “Where did this come from, not that I mind, even opposite it makes me the happiest person in the world, but she never…”

“We discussed that last week, and after a short talk, we agreed that this what we both want. You know considering---,” her voice trailed off, and she placed a soft peck to Thomas’ lips before adding quickly. “But it doesn’t mean that I am replacing Soledad. It just means that I love Luz just as much as Lydia and that you are my family,” Katrina whispered, raising her eyes and looking around the table. “You all are my family. The family I love and need,” she said, shaking her head when Beckett tried to object. Making it clear to him, that she already considers Maeve as part of their family, even though he stubbornly denies his feelings for her. And the way his eyes changed every time he looked at her thinking that no one sees made her think that he already falling in love with this girl, probably even not realizing it himself yet.

After they finished the Christmas dinner, it was time to unwrap the gifts and girls excitedly ran toward the tree, joined by adults in a moment. They all sat on the soft cushions that were placed around the Christmas tree. Both girls comfortably sitting on Thomas’ laps, when Katrina handed them their gifts, and they eagerly started to unwrap them. Huge excited smiles on their faces, when they got matching t-shirts with a text on them, “Big Sister TO BE”. Thomas looked at them with confusion, but before he could say anything Katrina took another two gifts handing them to her brother and Maeve, biting her lower lip while suppressing a smirk at Beckett’s shocked expression when he unwrapped his gift first. Taking out the baby bottle with a text that said, “Feed me”. His face paled, and he choked on the drink he just drank.

“How do you---” Beckett sputtered, ceasing to speak when he felt Maeve’s hand taking his and squeezing it firmly to attract attention, showing him her gift. A t-shirt that said, “Honorary Auntie”. His eyes widened when a realization hit him, and he looked at Katrina, watching her nod in confirmation. His eyes lighting up, and he smiled at his sister.

“Daddy, now our turn to give you our gift. We made it our self,” Luz said proudly, rushing toward the tree, taking everything on her way. Her body smashing into Beckett’s, sending him toward Maeve, and he wrapped his hands around her instinctively. Her hand pressed to his heart, feeling how it started to thunder inside his chest. The blush instantly creeping up his neck, coloring his cheeks pink. And he sputtered apology while his hand was still wrapped securely around her waist. Their eyes meeting, and they could feel the pull that started to draw them closer before Thomas’ voice pulled them to reality, making them instantly move away from each other. Their faces flustered, and they mumbled something avoiding each other gaze.

“Luz,” Thomas exclaimed before she was back with a gift in her arms. Lydia and she stood side by side, handing him a tin of cookies, their eyes glistening with joy, and they watched him closely. He slowly started to open the lid, saying a silent prayer, that it was not something dangerous, what Luz could consider a cool thing to have. In a moment, his eyes landed on a single gingerbread cookie with icing on it, and his eyes widened when he read the text. Blinking he read it once again. “Daddy to be… again”

He looked at Katrina, a silent question in his eyes, watching her nod in confirmation. And she hesitantly handed him a beautiful silver pen holder, that was engraved with the date that was about 9 months from now. His heart sped up when he opened it, and his eyes landed on the last gift from Katrina, the one that meant everything to him. Throwing a glimpse to the gift, he already guessed was in the box, he moved closer to Katrina wrapping his hands around her tightly. His lips found hers, kissing her passionately, murmuring between their kisses again and again “Thank you.”

The girls both scrunching their noses saying “Ewwwww.” in unison, making everyone laugh. Beckett’s hand hesitantly found Maeve’s, lacing his fingers through hers, giving it a light squeeze, sharing a subtle smile with each other.

“How… how long did you know?” Thomas asked, still holding Katrina in his arms.

“For a week,” she replied, hiding her face on his chest.

“Did… did girls know?”

“They found out the same day, and we came up together with all this plan. This was their idea to reveal this on Christmas Eve when all family will be together,” she clarified, smiling at Beckett and Maeve. Her gaze fleetingly slid to their interlaced fingers.

“Luz KNEW for a week?” Thomas exclaimed in amusement.

“Yes, daddy. You see, I can keep secrets when they are important.” Luz wagged her tongue, and everyone laughed, watching the little one sit with a proud look on her face.

“Are you happy?” Katrina asked hesitantly.

“I couldn’t wish for a better Christmas. The woman I love, amazing children, and family with whom we can share this news.”

“Merry Christmas,” said Katrina.

“Merry Christmas,” everyone replied, looking outside. Watching how the snow was falling to the ground, making it fluffy and white. Snowflakes slowly circled from the sky, the feeling of happiness filling the air.

Tagging: @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @annekebbphotography @perriewinklenerdie @thequeenofcronuts @symonde @lapisreviewsstuff @madampugzalot @emichelle @elles-choices @lilyofchoices @boneandfur @walkerismychoice @hopelessromantic1352 @confessionsofabrokegirl @msjpuddleduck @desiree-0816 @universallypizzataco @feartheendlesssummer @catlady0911 @the-soot-sprite @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @xxrainbow-princessxx @cordoniasmost @tuesdays-are-for-bobby @jlpplays1

Thomas tag: @ao719 @god-save-the-keen

#the elementalists #mother of the year #the elementalists fanfic #mother of the year fanfic #beckett harrington #thomas mendez #katrina harrington #beckett harrington fanfic #thomas mendez fanfic #beckett x mc #thomas mendez x mc #41daysofcheer #41daysofcheerchallenge #day 8 #day 32

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set-phasers-to-whump · 5 years

Text

whumptober day 18

prompt: muffled scream

whumpee: harry dresden (idk if anyone really whumps him but whatever this is for ME)

fandom: the dresden files

apologies if this sounds a little weird, the books are written in first person but i cant stand writing in first person so it’s different (also i know there are probably not any forests in chicago just pretend this is on the edge of town or smthn) (this isn’t super good or probably very accurate to the books but i haven’t read them in a hot second sorry)

Harry, Karrin, and Thomas sprinted through the woods. Shit, this had gone bad fast! What was meant to be a simple confrontation with a man using magic for less-than-desirable purposes had quickly gone off the rails.

It was supposed to be easy. Murphy had caught wind of something fishy going on through a somewhat unreliable source, so she had passed the information on to Harry and Thomas, to see if they could confirm it.

And they could-Thomas had heard of the man-his name was James Lawless, a forty-seven year old banker with too much time on his hands and too many books of magic in his library.

So the three of them had assembled a quick effort to bring him down. What could one middle-aged man possibly have up against a wizard, a cop, and a vampire?

Drones. Fuckin’ drones were what he had, apparently. Three of them, one for each member of this unfortunate party.

There was quite a bit of magic at play here-not only were the drones functioning perfectly fine, they were firing bursts of electricity while staying on speed with the group. In the part of his mind that wasn’t tied up with fleeing, Harry realised they’d severely underestimated Lawless. If only there was something I could do, he thought, but nobody had time to turn around and take down a drone-they were too close, there wasn’t enough cover-and suddenly, there was.

A little log cabin stood in the distance. The lights were all off, but it had a roof and at least one wall (presumably more), so Thomas pointed it out.

“Yeah, I see it!” Murphy yelled back, dodging out of the way of a bolt of electricity. “Hurry up!”

The three of them ran even faster, Thomas completely outstripping the human members of the group. Harry and Karrin ran harder still, as Thomas’ drone sped up to catch him. Murphy pulled ahead for a second, leaping over an exposed root and ducking under a low-hanging branch, then barely dodging yet another electric bolt.

Harry, who had been slightly caught up in attempting to call up some magic, wasn’t so lucky as to notice the root. His foot caught on it, and he fell to the ground before he at all realised what was going on.

He stumbled to his feet quickly, ducking the branch and forgoing all attempts at fighting back-he could do that from the safety of the cabin.

Mercifully, the three of them all crashed through the door without being electrocuted. The voice of Lawless came through one of the drones from outside. “You think a couple wooden walls can stop me?”

“Shit! Fuck! The chimney!” Harry shouted.

As he spoke, one of the drones came shooting out of the fireplace, letting loose a stream of electricity. This time, however, Harry was prepared. He aimed his staff at it and snarled, “Forzare!”

The drone went up in smoke as another one came down through the chimney. Murphy took care of this one, grabbing her gun and shooting it until it clattered to the ground. Thomas shot down the remaining drone.

The trio looked at each other. “Okay. Okay. What’s the plan now? We’ve gotta stop him,” said Murphy.

“What if he’s got more drones?” Thomas pointed out.

“Well, we can’t just leave,” Karrin argued.

“I may have an idea,” Harry chimed in. “If there’s any service out here.”

There was, fortunately. (Luckily they weren’t too far from town).

“Yo. Billy. I need a favour from you.”

Billy came through, and soon the three of them were on their way back to Lawless’ remote hideout, assured that there were no more drones waiting for them.

Without his drones, Lawless wasn’t nearly so confident. He tried his best, of course. He used every spell he knew (which was not a lot). Harry knocked him back with a blast of wind, Thomas kicked aside the flimsy wand he’d been using to try to channel magic, sending it flying down the stairs, and Murphy trained her gun on him and pronounced him under arrest.

And then it was over.

And then it wasn’t, and Lawless struggled his way out of Murphy’s iron grasp and shoved his way forward, into Harry, who, completely unprepared, went tumbling down the stairs. Lawless scampered away, racing out the open front door as Murphy and Thomas raced down the stairs.

Harry staggered to his feet and moved to pick up his dropped staff-and found he couldn’t.

“Harry?”

He turned to look at Karrin.

“Harry, your arm is dislocated. I can see it even through your duster.”

He turned back around, picking up his staff with his left hand and starting for the door.

“What are you doing?”

“We can’t let him escape, I can see his footprints, we’ve gotta go!” His arm hurt, sure, but it was far-far-from the worst pain he’d felt. He’d be fine. He could cast with his left hand. Not as accurately, maybe, but still. He could.

“On it,” Thomas said, and, before anyone could say anything else, he sprinted out the door after Lawless.

Harry turned back to Murphy. “We gotta go help Thomas,” he said.

“Thomas is a big boy, he can handle himself for a minute. Let me see your arm.”

“It’s fine, Murph. Let’s go.” He gripped the staff more securely with his left hand, leaning on it slightly.

“Harry, please just let me see it. I’m pretty sure it’s just dislocated, but if it’s broken-”

“It’s not.”

“Can I please just see?”

“Fine,” Harry grumbled at last, not wanting to prolong this any further.

Murphy pulled his duster off of him and grabbed his right arm. He winced. “Jesus, careful, Murph!”

“I thought you said it was fine?”

He shut up at that. Karrin glanced about the room, her eyes settling on a green throw pillow.

“Sit down,” she instructed Harry, who listened. She grabbed the pillow and held it out to him. “It’s not the best, but it’ll do. Bite down on it.”

“Karrin, what-no, no, please don’t. It’s fine, really, I swear.”

“Your arm is going back into place whether you like it or not. Take the damn pillow.”

He took it and bit down, glaring up at her from his seat on the stairs that had done this to him. “This tastes like dust,” he remarked, voice muffled from the offending pillow.

“How long do you think it’s been here?” Murphy asked.

Harry thought for a second-and Murphy used his momentary distraction to force his arm back into his socket.

Harry let out a muffled scream, biting hard into the pillow and wrapping his good arm around it.

“Sorry,” Murphy whispered.

He took a few deep, ragged breaths. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s fine, I’m good. Let’s go.” He picked up his duster with his left hand and draped it over his shoulders.

They found Thomas near the edge of the woods. He’d been, as Murphy had said, completely fine on his own. James Lawless was lying on the ground, tied up securely with several feet of heavy-duty rope.

“Took you long enough,” he remarked. “You alright, Harry?”

“Sure I am,” Harry replied. The staff was still in his left hand, which was also holding securely onto the top of his right arm.

“I popped his arm back into his socket,” Murphy explained. “He’ll be fine, just sore.”

“What’s new,” Harry muttered. “Nice work, Thomas.”

“What’s new,” Thomas echoed, hefting up Lawless and depositing him in the backseat of his car.

The rest of the group piled in after him, Harry stuck in the unfortunate backseat with Lawless, who glared at him as angrily as a man with his face pressed into the carpets of a car could glare.

Harry stretched out his legs, expertly ignoring the pain still radiating from his arm, placing his boots atop Lawless, who renewed his glaring with even more intensity. Harry gazed out the window as they rolled back into the city and up to the police department. He stayed in the car as Karrin and Thomas brought their prisoner inside and explained the day’s events in simple police terms.

He was drifting off to sleep by the time the other two returned. They spoke quietly on their drive, discussing their conversation with the police. Harry let their voices fade and mingle with the sounds of the road. He knew his arm would hurt when he woke up, but for the moment, he was content to fall asleep and forget about it for a little bit. Just another day in the life of me, he thought, before he finally fell asleep.

not super pleased with this but oh well! thanks if u read this!!

#whumptober2019 #no.18 #muffled scream #dislocation #field medicine #harry dresden #the dresden files #my writing #i say things

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thecryptidofbravo · 6 years

Text

A Nighttime Walk Around Bravo

The smell of sulfur filled his nostrils as he walked, naked, through the darkness… on and on and on and on, never ending…

…

Wandering Eye started awake, rubbing at his nose as though that could scrub the smell of a memory of his time between death and rebirth.

He’d felt feat down there. That was nothing new. He’d been afraid so much up Here, but in the dark, with stone and earth above your head, that was supposed to be –his- domain. He wasn’t supposed to feel like prey there.

Anger rumbled, as it had, at a slow boil, ever since he’d woken back up from There. No. He was stronger than that.

The lascarian grabbed his armor and blade, stalking outside of the hovel he’d crawled into the night before. He didn’t know who it belonged to. The war of Bravo had refugees on both sides, and there were plenty of empty places where once Above-born had lived. He hadn’t slept in the same bed two nights in a row, and he had a better feel for this city than ever.

Oh, what opportunities ignoring little things like “private property” signs had opened up for him!

He stuck to the shadows as he moved through downtown, avoiding the sounds of people. He was feeling violent but he also didn’t feel like getting hung for murder… not yet at least.

Somewhere in his mind he recognized the Wandering Eye from just a week ago would abhor his behavior. He simply didn’t care anymore. That had been the problem with the old version of himself.

‘One of them, at least,’ he thought with a dry laugh.

He’d cared too much. About people, about Clan, about being honorable, useful.

Idiot.

He still cared about people, and the Clan of course. They were useful. You needed people to stay alive. The alone died weak and starving, or as food for something else.

‘Something like me,’ he giggled through bared teeth.

He’d been feeding, since he came back. Another thing the old him refused to admit to being one of life’s true pleasures. It had started with Mustang’s men, or were they Rob’s? It didn’t matter. They’d come at him, with death in their eyes, and he and the Braves had shoved it down their throats. It was only fair he got a meal, too, after such a kindness.

It had been easy enough to pick off one or two people a night, during the battles, skirmishes really. All he had to do was pretend he was there to help. That he was “fighting for the good of the town”.

It’s what the old him would have been doing, had been doing. Few enough questioned it, even if they did look at him askance when he occasionally drug someone into the darkness of a side tunnel and reemerged minutes later with a face covered in red. They even brought dying people to him! So what if he sewed up a wound with a little less flesh on it than before? They were in too much pain to notice, certainly in no condition to complain.

He’d never eaten better in his life. The Clan should have started hunting like this years ago.

‘If we’d been smart enough to know how many people were up here,’ was the, this time bitter, thought.

All that time spent Below, digging through the refuse of the Founders and there were worlds of meat and metal only a few weeks away, in more than one direction!

But no, they’d stuck to their territory. They hunted and they dug and they farmed what they could. And they were strong! To be sure. But winters still hurt. They still had to turn on each other when it got especially bad.

And just down the river was a road to a land of plenty. The whole world could have been Redwater had they just gone and taken it.

A voice, the old him, whispered that wasn’t their way. He stomped it out, like he had that cousin, the fool from Star City with the mother who prayed to Mustang. The memory of his blood on the floor still brought satisfaction. He hadn’t even had to strike first.

Soarin had been there, though. She knew he was different. She wasn’t the only one. They were going to try to change him, turn him back into the wretch from before. He couldn’t have that. He still felt, something close to affection, for his friends, but this wasn’t about them. Still, he hoped he wouldn’t have to kill any of them.

He thumbed the hilt of his blade, not the long one he carried, the short Dark Moon cleaver at his belt, as hours later he moved from the rough streets of downtown to the more evenly packed roads up uptown Bravo, where the houses were cleaner, larger, and the Pure Bloods had the occasional fenced garden for their tea parties, he assumed.

It was one of these houses, with a little iron fence and green shrubbery that had probably once been lush before winter he saw the signs he was looking for: boarded windows, a layer of dust on the front porch, more than a day’s dirt could account for, darkness from rooms candles and lamps should be lit, a chimney with no smoke, in spite of the biting cold in a land who’s people were used to burning heat.

Emptiness.

He slipped down the side alley, and hopped the fence, landing in a small yard with a glass topped table and chairs of all ridiculous things to build with good iron. Wasteful. No wonder they’d ran when the fighting started.

The back door had been left open a crack, surprisingly, but he wasn’t going to question luck in his favor. Inside was a kitchen that would rival the Saloon’s. He smelled spice, and produce. They’d left food here. Again, so wasteful.

He moved further into the abandoned home, and found lavishly decorated rooms, carpeted floors, more pillows than could possibly need to exist. Up the stairs, and he found… footsteps? In the dust.

Wandering Eye froze, listening carefully, breathing deeply through his nose.

He wasn’t alone. There was shuffling, whispers, in the room to his left. Two people.

He silently inched closer. He smelled, not Pure Bloods… a Vegasian, and… either a Retrograde or the glitterbomb was carrying a fresh corpse with them.

Looters. How rude. The Pure Bloods were useless bags of words covered in tender meat, but stealing from someone who couldn’t challenge you? That was just cowardly.

He moved quickly, and they were on the ground almost as soon as he’d raised his sword, a pile of broken limbs and open wounds. They weren’t fighters.

“Shhh,” he whispered to them. “Don’t worry. Not going to kill you.”

He put down the long blade, and pulled the cleaver free from its sheath.

“Of course, stealing not legal in Bravo, so, must take a little bit before patch you up.” He could have suppressed the hunger, the pleasure in his voice, but why bother?

Just a week ago, he’d been trying to convince himself Bravo was worth staying in.

Now his eyes were open. Why would ever want to leave?

The people here were so much fun to play with!

#wandering eye #post hype #derangement

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avengers-nextgen · 6 years

Text

AU Propositions

So, I have been thinking about doing an AU along with the main series. Below are the theee options I’m willing to write! Each has a snippet or sample of material for that given AU. Please vote on which one you’d like to see based off of wha I’ve written.

— — —

Apocalypse

Factions, were all that remained. Years ago the government was overthrown, the world dissolved into chaos, and loyalty became an illusion. Patriotism no longer existed, one governing body was replaced with many, maps were re-made, and alliances dictated territory.

Ram shackled buildings made up towns, and once superior technology was now lost. The wars had ravaged scientific advancement putting the world’s technological timeline in reverse.

Enemies lurked at every corner as nations tried to re-establish themselves. Safety didn’t exist.

The only hope anyone had was the next generation-the offspring of surviving fighters. Tides were beginning to shift, and alliances were converging to form four powerful states. Keeping peace was increasingly difficult, but the few unattached townships were looking to restore America. If one nation could rebuild itself, then others could too.

— — —

A bullet ridden sign held a few straggling letters naming the town NEW O, also known as ground Zero.

Smoke wafted into the sky, streaming up in plumes from piped chimneys.

“The stables aren’t far,” James assured, stepping aside as a barefoot kid ran past, “we take a ride down south and check on Havoc Sector.”

“Right, my favorite place to be,” Piper sighed, adjusting her backpack.

“It’s just a quick round up,” Alex tried to brighten the mood, “nothing major. Get the medicine, distribute it, and head home.”

“Last time we sent someone to distribute supplies they were killed.” Piper reminded the two siblings.

“Which is why there’s three of us.” James pressed his lips into a thin line.

— — —

Havoc Sector was a shit hole. The only reason none of the states wanted its service was because of its poverty. They had nothing to offer anyone. In fact, Havoc Sector was lucky they even had support from New 0.

“It’s infected,” The Doctor pursed his lips, “I’m not sure there’s anything we can do.”

“There has to be something,” Bianca insisted, looking at her discolored arm. The large cut from a work related accident had become severely infected.

“I’m sorry, no medicine can treat this-let alone if we had any.” Part of Bianca wanted to kill the man. He claimed to be medically certified, and maybe he was once upon a time, but the equipment now just wasn’t the same. His abilities were limited.

“I’ll go somewhere else then,” Bianca decided.

“And where will that be?” The doctor frowned.

“The Skids,” Bianca’s assertive tone surprised the doctor, but he was more surprised by the selected location.

“If you go to the Skids you’ll die for certain.” He made no move to stop Bianca from stumbling to her feet.

“So be it.”

— — —

A fist rocked into her face pushing her back against the dusty wall. All around people crowded and yelled at the scene before them. Just beige her opponent could take the advantage, Sage slammed her foot down against their knee.

With a sickening pop the other girl dropped with a cry of pain. Using the back of her arm, Sage wiped the blood from her face, and grasped the unfortunate competitor by the front of her tank top, “Yield.”

“Not a chance.”

“You know what happens if you don’t.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

The crowd roared angrily and slammed their hands down upon rickety wood tables.

Kill

KILL

KILL!

“You heard them,” The girl smiled thinly. Sage nodded and quick as a wink she snapped the other girl’s neck letting her drop to the ground. With the thud of the body the room dissolved into complete chaos.

Sage scampered from the ring and snatched up her winnings before heading off.

She’d changed quickly, and was now pedaling swiftly towards home. Her mother was sick and dying, if she’d gathered enough money there was a chance she could afford a hospital room. The Skids was a cutthroat place. A place for criminals, but because of that-they had the best health care possible.

80s

“Throw the ball!” Piper yelled, tapping the bat on the base outlined in the dirt. James brought his leg up slow, making the movements grander than they needed to be, before throwing the mall. It whistled through the air in a perfect spin as Piper swung the wooden bat.

A loud crack resounded signaling a solid hit. James glanced at the sky trying to follow the ball as Piper took off to where Scout stood prepped at first base. Orion charged in from the outfield sprawling out flat in an attempt to catch the ball. Recovering he slung it towards second base forcing Piper into a dive.

Nathaniel snagged the ball from the air, stopped over to tap Piper, and cursed when she beat him. “Safe.”

“Yes!” Thalia clapped. Piper stood to dust herself off, all the while taking a bow.

With a sigh James took his place on the mound once more. Adjusting the cap on his head he wiped at the glistening sweat with the back of his arm.

“Hold up,” Scout called, checking his watch, “shit. We gotta go! School is soon.”

Nothing else was said as they all picked up the baseball equipment. An onlooker would have laughed watching a bunch of teens scramble across the dusty field, up and over the hill, down the other side, and disappear in the neighborhood.

— — —

“You have to work on your pitching,” Nathaniel joked accompanying his younger friends to school. College had yet to start for him so he enjoyed the morning cycle to school without the anxiety of having to do any learning.

“You pitch next time,” James huffed, taking the corner sharp into the parking lot. Kids were scrambling out of cars and racing up the steps to meet friends.

“That hit though,” Alex winked at Piper who puffed her chest out in pride. They rode past a car blasting U2 and shortly after another playing ABBA.

“The music tastes of some of these people,” Orion shook his head in dismay.

The conversation was interrupted as an engine came screaming by, a motorcycle sped past sliding into a parking space with ease.

“Hey! Watch it!” James yelled, “You yield to us.”

“Says who? It’s a parking lot. Everyone yields to everyone dip shit,” James’ brows arched in surprise as the biker jerked off their helmet to reveal an intimidating girl with short choppy black hair.

“Attitude,” Alex hummed earning a snicker from Piper. Shaking his head James lead the group to the bike rack.

“Some people have serious nerve,” Scout frowned.

“You get used to it,” Orion assured him hopping up onto the nearby wall, “see you all later.”

— — —

“Glad to see you decided to turn up,” Bianca turned to see her friend climbing the steps to the front of the school.

“I’m still a bit nervous,” Bianca admitted. She’d managed to snag a prosthetic but it wasn’t exactly the most function-able or attractive device.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sage promised holding the door open for her, “I’ll kill anyone who says anything about it.”

“Murder on the first day seems a bit excessive,” Bianca laughed.

“So does getting math homework,” Sage countered.

— — —

“This place is ghastly,” Penny frowned.

“Why? Because you learn stuff?” Chloe asked, arching a brow.

“It’s a prison.” Penny insisted.

“Thanks for that, I can finally cross going to jail off of my bucket list.” Penny rolled her eyes at Chloe before turning her attention to Arthur.

“How’re you holding up?”

“Honestly I am terrified,” Arthur mumbled. The news was all over the place with people who’d been beat up or killed for being gay, lesbian, and trans.

“Just remember to be careful,” Chloe warned.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” Arthur glowered.

“I’m just saying-“

“Yeah, you don’t want to move schools again I know.”

“Arthur, I’m not mad at you.” Chloe looked a bit offended, “but not everyone is like us. Some people are cruel.”

“The newspapers made me well aware of that,” Arthur swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest at too fast of a pace. He was pretty sure he was already sweating.

Demigod

Capture the flag was the olympics of camp half blood. The winner didn’t earn a week of chores, gained honor, and best of all-bragging rights. There was nothing worse than watching people fume over defeat.

Even the campfires were fun if the participation was high enough. Maybe the music wasn’t the best but it got the job done. If anything, it allowed people to be completely unhinged.

Dinner was wonderful too, there were people to laugh with, tell stories with, and simple talk too. It was a vibrant atmosphere meant to be welcoming, but it was also a lonely type of place. There were those who felt confined, restricted, and unwanted.

Chloe hated her cabin. The perfume gave her a headache, the gossip was annoying, and they didn’t value a whole lot. Of course, not every child of Aphrodite was like that, but stigmas existed for a reason. The only one who’d gotten anything good out of the deal was Arthur. A perfect body, the one he always wanted, and with none of the pain.

Even Piper was dissatisfied. There was only so much a person could do with the limited equipment. She had big plans, big desires, and being confined to share a forge was infuriating. Her only solace was Siyanda who seemed to understand the struggle.

As for Scout, there was more to being smart than knowing facts. He was stuck in a cabin full of one uppers. Nothing anyone did was good enough, and someone always came up with something better. He was sick of it. Not to mention everyone’s ideas seemed to follow the same pattern. Originality didn’t seem to be valued as much as tradition did.

Penny and Orion were stuck in the most crowded cabin where something was always missing because someone always took something. You could barely even trust your own siblings with objects for fear they’d take it or sell it for something better. Personal possessions weren’t much of a privilege for them.

James and Alex had a relatively empty cabin. Everyone was pretty alright until it came to intense competitions, then all hell broke loose. People would argue over athletes about who was better or not, and it could go on for days. No one ever admitted defeat, that they were wrong, or that they weren’t as good as their ego said they were.

Violence was quite the go to response for people in the Ares cabin, but it didn’t come naturally to some. Thalia refrained from unseeded conflict at all costs, and instead advocated for peace more often than not. Bianca just wanted to be left alone. She barely spoke to anyone, and they all assumed it had to do with the age old incident.

Being a child of Nemesis meant no one wanted to befriend you. Not to mention the history of Nemesis children at camp. Fox found herself trying to be as detached as possible, but it was hard when people tried to piss you off to see what would happen.

As for Nathaniel, the poor boy didn’t catch a break. He taught archery every chance he got or helped out in the medical wing, but there was one cot that no one touched. It was practically forbidden, but that almost made it worse.

Enzo fit right in with the other peppy magic kids. He went about practicing his powers all day, loved to participate in group activities, and cabin bonding moments. Sage, however, kept to herself on the top bunk in the dark back corner of the rather unpopulated cabin. She found their happiness sickening, and spent most of her time curled up staring at the wall. No one bothered to drag her into activities anymore.

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skaikruswan · 7 years

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Feel the wonder inside of us

Fandom: Uprooted

Summary: “Why in the world are you here?” the dragon hisses with the voice of the wizard and I feel as if my world just has turned upside down, more than it already had.

“Why are you an actual dragon?” I ask, no, scream, gesturing towards him with my hands.

After rescuing Kasia from the wood, Agnieszka sees a side of the wizard she hadn’t seen or thought possible.

AO3

Notes: Sup, I got this idea stuck in my mind and I just had to write something. This takes place in chapter 11, after they saved Kasia and before Marek and his crew arrive. Fun fact: I was so unsure whether to use first or third person, past or present tense. I changed more than once. Still not entirely sure. I think it fits the theme of change rather well. Tell me what you think of the fic :)

I search for the Dragon, but I just can’t find him. At first it didn’t surprise me. Of course, there would be rooms he hadn’t shown me, secrets he and his tower would hide from me. Still, I have started to worry. I feel weary, the exhaustion of the Summoning still in my bones. Tending Kasia also takes its toll on me: I’m constantly running around in the tower and I’ve been sleeping poorly. Kasia is getting better, as far as anyone who had experienced the horror she had been through, can be. She is resting, hiding under the blankets, occasionally whimpering in her sleep.

I have looked in every room I had been before. I have even screamed for him, loud enough to be heard, but no too loud so I wouldn’t wake Kasia. My throat is dry and I feel a little tired, but still no success in finding the wizard.

“Where could he be?” I ask myself, leaning against a smooth, cool pillar. Suddenly an idea forms in my head and I put my hand on its surface, connecting myself with the tower. Pokaż mi, I start to sing, first a mere whisper, then slowly letting it grow so me voice echoes through the tower, allowing my magic to unfold. Show me. It reminds me of a game I used to play, running around blindfold in the meadow, trying to catch Kasia or my siblings. I’m closing me eyes, letting my other senses and my magic guide me and only open them when I feel the air shift, becoming cold and dusty. I’m now standing in a narrow hallway, with only a stairway as possible road. Turning around, I realize that I have never been here before. Determined to explore and to find him, I walk up the worn-down stairs and ends up in front of a massive iron door. Grabbing the handle, the door swings open to reveal a big, round room. The room doesn’t faze me much at the first quick glance, until my eyes settle on the one thing that occupies it.

A dragon. A big dragon. A big dragon who could easily kill me and eat me, making me feel like a mouse in front of a snake. I feel my blood turn to ice and I can only stare at the sleeping beast, agape. It’s curled up like a cat, the long tail tugged under its chin. Curls of smoke are filling the air, giving the impression as if the dragon is snoring. Graceful wings are resting on its hindlegs, leading my gaze towards the spikes covering the dragon’s spine. In a bizarre way, the dragon reminds me of a stormy night sky. The scales of the dragon reach from misty grey to onyx and I feel the crazy urge to touch the scales and find out how they would feel like under my fingertips. With a shake of my head, I try to focus myself to the most logic task. Run away. But before I can do anything, the dragon opens his eyes, golden slits focusing on me.

“Why in the world are you here?” the dragon hisses with the voice of the wizard and I feel as if my world just has turned upside down, more than it already had.

“Why are you an actual dragon?” I ask, no, scream, gesturing towards him with my hands.

“You wouldn’t understand.” he snaps back. His tail is twitching, no longer tugged under his chin and his claws are scraping against the stone floor. He’s agitated, I conclude.

“Then try to explain.” When did my life start to involve arguing with dragons, real dragons? He lets out a low growl but I only cross my arms and raise my eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

“My magic can be different, difficult even. It took me decades to comprehend and master it.” He stops for a moment, and his gaze turns sorrowful for a moment, the fragments of a lonely childhood passing by, before he focuses again on me. “Sometimes when I drain myself too much, the rest of my magic channels my title and I take that form to rest and regain my strength.”

I can’t help but raise my eyebrows, but somehow, that explanation doesn’t seem so absurd. I tilt my head and regard him more carefully, trying to find similarities to his human form.

“Stop gawking and make yourself useful.” he orders and I startle, having been lost in thought. The room seems to be made for this purpose alone. There isn’t any furniture and the Dragon takes up most of the space. No chimney either, but I don’t feel cold, since he’s radiating heat.

“What do you want me to do? Maybe get some food?” I imagine that he must eat, no matter how he looks like.

“Why, are you offering?” The chicken-hearted part of me flinches and I stare at him, wide-eyed, before I realize he’s only joking (at least I think he does).

“Bossy dragon.” I say under my breath and hurry back towards the kitchen before he can scold me for my comment. Because I’m curious about his current state and still a little tired from roaming the tower all day long, I take the meal I’ve prepared for myself and Kasia and throw a Lirintalem at it. The result is pretty decent. I now have my favorite stew made of chicken meat, carrots and mushrooms, and for the Dragon a juicy piece of pork and beef surrounded by potatoes. I pick a second set of cutleries for him, so he can’t nag at me for forgetting it, and because I want to see his reaction to it. Setting everything on a dinner tray, I make my way back to the Dragon.

He’s still lying (although, what else could he do?) and doesn’t move when I come back but only opens his eyes.

“Dinner’s ready.” I say cheerfully, bringing him his plate and putting it in front of it. He eyes it with arrogant caution, sniffing at it, before opening his mouth and devouring the meal in two quick bites. He licks his leathery lips with his forked tongue before making a weird noise which I think is a dragon clearing its throat.

I can’t help but giggle, causing him to scowl at me. How it must pain him, he who loves order and tidiness, to be bound to this form. No books he can read, no letters he can write, no mess he can clean.

“Let’s continue trying to get spells into that thick head of yours.” he says, his usual wit and sarcasm lacing the words.

“This means you can do magic, even like that?” The question slips out before I can do anything and now he glares at me.

“Of course I can, daft girl.” I’ve grown used to his insults. Hesitantly, I let my magic flower out and reach out for his. It’s weird: I know how his magic feels like: it’s like him, proper, precise, sharp if it has to be. Right now, it feels different, but somehow the same, as if I’m seeing his magic from a different point of view. I would define it as primal or more unbound than usual. Still, I feel his power.

As his current form proves, he’s not yet ready to perform more sophisticated magic, and I’m not feeling ready either. No usual nagging from him, so I assume that he wants me to begin. Maybe he wants me to prove to him that I don’t need his guidance, or he’s just too lazy or uninterested to do anything. I shrug, close my eyes and prepare myself for the magic. After the strenuous effort of rescuing Kasia, I long for some easy spells and the cantrips he so desperately wanted me to learn come into my mind.

I almost laugh when I remember how hard they used to be for me. But now, since I no longer have to follow his methods, I perform them without any trouble. The tedious walks in the dark that had been my initial magical experience have now become pleasant strolls. The last spell I perform ought to clean remove the dust from the room but I kind of overshoot the mark, making the dust vanish in an explosion.

“Sloppy but effective, what one can say about you and your magic.” he comments drily, and I grin. Only he can insult and compliment somebody at the same time. Still, a little bit of dust covers me, and I try not to sneeze. “It draws away the attention from your hideous dress.” He gives me an exasperated look.

I wipe my hands off and realize that my dress really has seen better days. Looking at his form and considering his slight obsession with my clothes, I have an idea. Vanastalem I say, loud and clear. No simple dress appears, but something out of a fairytale. Layers of silk and velvet cover me, the skyblue color complimenting my fair skin and my gray eyes. A silver hairband tames my hair. I surely look like a different person.

“Who are you and what have you done with my apprentice?”

“A poor princess, trapped by a horrible dragon.” I say, using my best whiny-rich-countess voice, while raising my hand to my forehead. He snorts, clouds of smoke rising, and I grin. Yet his eyes stay fixed on me and I try not to blush. Joking around allows me to unwind and to forget the crazy world I’m living in, if only for now.

“How’s your friend?” he asks, trying to sound casual, and I startle. Given his initial opinion on Kasia, I didn’t think he would care.

“She tries to rest, to regain her strength, but she can’t.” Seeing her in pain feels like a stab right into my heart. I’ve tried to help her, but even the spells from Baba Yaga don’t help.

“It will take time. You being with her will surely help.” I understand his hint and leave him to rush towards Kasia, trying not to fall in my dress. She’s awake, her eyes glassy and unfocused, the blankets around her seem more suffocating than comforting.

“Kasia, I’m here.” When she hears me, she looks at me and lets out a sob. I make myself comfortable next to her and hold her. She wraps her arms around me and I try not to flinch, the memories of her choking me still fresh. Time seems to fly, and I only let go of her when her breathing has become regular, a sign that she’s finally sleeping.

When I return to him, nothing seems to have changed, he’s still lying around.

“This really must be boring.” I say. All he seems to do is lying around. I would have gone crazy.

“What else could I do?” he hisses. “Fly around?”

“Have you? Did you ever leave the tower once like this?”

“Of course not.” he says indignantly and opens his wings, letting me see them unfolded for one moment, before closing them again. This must be uncomfortable for him too. He surely wants to move.

“Did any of the other girls ever see you like that?” While I doubt it, since that would have been a big revelation, I can’t help but wonder.

“No, only you. You change everything.” he drawls.

“You could do so much while you’re like this.” I imagine him flying around, breathing fire and burning this wretched forest. Legends of an actual dragon would keep our enemies at bay.

“No!” he roars, and I admit, it took a lot of me to not take a few steps back. “This is the main reason why the wood can never have me.” he urges me, his words now having a deeper meaning. I remember the horrified look on his face when the wolf had scratched and corrupted him. It all makes sense now. I see him as a weapon of the wood, a forest dragon, leaves and moss covering his shiny scales, branches between his horns, an instrument of doom, bringing only death and horror to the valley. The picture in my mind makes me shiver.

“I understand.” We seem to have an unspoken conversation between us. I understand that the wood must never have him, even if this means that I must kill him, or worse, us.

“Nieszka.” he says with a sigh and I feel my heart skip a beat. Girl, lunatic, creature, catastrophe: that’s how he likes to call me. Not my name and especially not… this. Nieszka is how my family and how Kasia call me. It’s used by people who truly care about me. “Try to get some rest too. I feel as if the worst is still ahead of us.”

“I’m sure that tomorrow you’ll be fine again.” I say optimistically, trying to change the subject. He only snorts in disdain. His empty plate is still standing in front of him and I decide to take it to the kitchen. Before grabbing it, I put my hand on one of his claws, touching the rough, and yet, sleek scales. I know that this is the equivalent of touching his hand, but my curiosity is stronger than my embarrassment or common etiquette. I withdraw and break the wondrous moment between us.

When I turn around to leave (or flee), I see that his tail is lying in front of the door, blocking my path.

“The terrible dragon allows the princess to leave.” he says, shifting his tail. One last glance at him and I see that he’s smirking, as far as dragons can do that. I smile at him, while trying to drop a curtsy. He inclines his head. On my way down, I wonder if being in this form makes him easier to get along with. Maybe it’s the exhaustion. Somehow, our relationship has changed. I enjoyed his presence today, and I know he enjoyed mine too.

To everyone’s surprise, tomorrow he’s still a dragon.

#uprooted #uprootedweek2017 #uprooted fanfiction #uprootededit #agnieszka #sarkan #agnieszka x sarkan #my writing

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alphacrone · 7 years

Text

MAGIC TOWN SAMWELL AU

Based loosely on this older post of mine.

When the charm shop went in next door, Jack was wary. But plenty of his tomes still had the residue of charms and spells lingering in the dust between their pages, seeped into their cracked spines, and Jack managed well enough. Still, an entire store devoted to mood charms and luck potions – the idea of it alone made his skin itch.

When a sign went up above the cheerful, red awning declaring the shop “Peachy Keen,” Jack was skeptical. The name indicated to Jack that it was probably some gimmicky chain store, pretending to be quaint and local while really forcing out actual local businesses. But the sign itself looked genuinely hand-painted – it was either a very clever marketing tactic, or Jack was wrong in his assumptions.

When the shop’s owner came by to introduce himself, wearing a pastel pink button-down shirt and smiling like he’d just won the lottery, Jack knew he was utterly, totally fucked.

Jack and Bittle – “Eric Bittle but my friends call me Bitty oh is that cookbook I love old cookbooks my moomaw has a dozen-” – didn’t speak much after that initial introduction. Their respective shops kept them busy, and Jack tended not to go out with the other shopkeepers from the square when they had their weekly pub crawls. Bittle, from what Jack could tell, was bubbly and outgoing and almost as talkative as Shitty.

Jack was...not.

It had been maybe two or three weeks since Peachy Keen opened its doors when Jack came to work only to find a pie sitting on his stoop. It smelled heavenly, of nutmeg and cloves, apple and lemon, and seemed to still be piping hot. There was no note, but Samwell was a safe and friendly hamlet; Jack assumed it was from one of the older ladies who ran the butcher’s shop, or maybe even Shitty, learning to bake while baked. Jack was a little wary to eat anything that had seen the inside of Shitty’s apartment, but it smelled so good he couldn’t resist.

That turned out to be a huge mistake.

Thanks to some very creative hand gestures and the suspiciously intelligent crow who roosted in Jack’s chimney, Jack managed to get his medication before the bright purple welts on his arms and face got too horrific. A trip to the nearest urgent care center later, and Jack was perched behind the counter at Shitty’s nursery, Weeds n’ Things, glaring daggers at his laughing friend.

“Someone tried to poison you with pie?” Shitty asked incredulously. “Really? That’s your theory?”

Jack shrugged, feeling a little defensive. His father was a famous Necromancer, and while he had many fans, Bad Bob also had many enemies. It had been one of the numerous things that had plagued Jack’s anxiety as a child, knowing that there were people who wanted his father dead.

“Jack,” Shitty said, face softening. “I’m pretty sure that pie’s from Bits.”

“Who?” Jack frowned.

“Bitty?” Shitty sighed. “Bittle- you know, cute as shit, owns Peachy Keen. His whole schtick is charms and spells that aren’t disgusting – infused in desserts, snacks, drinks. Pie is, like, his forte, man.”

“Oh,” Jack said, feeling a mixture of relief, embarrassment, and irritation. “It’s sort of rude to just give someone an infused pie without telling them what it is.”

“Yeah, you got me there,” Shitty said, scratching at his jaw. “That doesn’t seem like Bits at all. Want me to talk to him about it?”

Jack thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t want to make him feel bad for almost killing me.”

Shitty laughed again and slapped Jack on the back. “You’re not that allergic, dude. But I gotta ask – how was the pie? What flavor was it?”

With a long-suffering sigh, Jack said, “Aside from the hives all over my skin, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” Shitty gave him a wide, knowing grin. “And apple. The pie was apple.”

“Hmm, good fortune,” Shitty said. “That’s usually what he puts in those.”

Jack snorted. “I guess from a certain perspective,” he said. “I was pretty damn fortunate.”

“That’s the spirit, brah,” Shitty said, nudging Jack with his elbow. “Now come help me water the herbs. Those babies have missed you.”

When Jack got home that evening, the chimney crow was waiting for him outside the shop. In its beak it held a small, torn note. Hesitantly, Jack reached out and took it. The crow gave him an appraising look and flew off, leaving Jack feeling very nervous as he unfolded the cheerful, yellow paper.

Everyone in the square’s tried a pie but you! Hope you like apple & fortune – it’s one of my best. See you around, neighbor :) - Bittle

Despite himself, Jack smiled. So Bittle had sent a note – and that damn chimney crow had nicked it. The grudge he’d been harboring towards the man lessened in intensity; the grudge he now bore for the crow doubled.

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t call an exterminator,” he called up at the roof where the crow’s nest hid. “I mean it.”

The crow did not respond, but Jack hadn’t really expected it to. He sighed and tucked the note into his pocket, ready to collapse face-first into his bed and sleep off the terrible day.

He wouldn’t remember how it happened in the morning, but the note was stuck to his refrigerator, right next to the ice maker. It stayed there for a long time.

It quickly became evident that, for the first time in his loud, obnoxious life, Shitty Knight had not intervened in Jack’s business.

Unfortunately, this meant another pie appeared on Jack’s stoop a week after his trip to the hospital.

The note taped to the tin was intact this time, written on light orange paper. Jack wondered idly how many colors of paper Bittle had in his shop, then realized he had never even seen the inside of Peachy Keen. The whole place could be covered in different shades of colored paper, and Jack wouldn’t have the faintest clue.

He was almost certain the air in that shop alone would be enough to break him out, which he definitely wanted to avoid in front of the cute baker.

Strawberries, cream, & focus, the note read. Mr. Crappy at the nursery buys a slice every time he needs to focus on paperwork. Of course, you don’t seem to need the help in that department! Hope you enjoy, and stop by soon! -ERB

Careful not to touch the crust, Jack picked up the pie and deposited it on the first flat surface in his store – the front counter. He didn’t want to just throw it out, but being near the thing, so chock full of pixie dust, was making Jack uneasy.

Though not all magic came from pixie dust, it was a large component in most Western spells, charms, and potions. It was potent, cheap to produce, and incredibly flexible in use.

And Jack Zimmermann was allergic to it.

Pixie dust allergies were not unheard of, but they were pretty rare. In his studies, Jack had found they occurred more frequently in East Asian and Southern African countries, where pixies were not native and their dust less commonly used. As a child he’d dreamt of running away to Antarctica, where it was too cold for pixies to survive, and he could live totally free from the fear of reaction with the penguins and the seals.

Jack sighed and glanced at the pie, tucking the note into his wallet so it wouldn’t get lost. He had a few minutes this morning before he needed to start his opening routine, so Jack grabbed the pie again and decided he'd take it over to Ransom and Holster, who ran the popular bar and grill, the Haus. They were also the leaders of Samwell’s very own werewolf pack, and therefore ate...a lot. As did their pack mates. The pie wouldn't last five minutes at their place.

Hesitation tugged at the back of Jack’s mind. It felt rude just getting rid of a pie specially made for Jack, but he certainly couldn't eat it. He needed to express gratitude somehow.

A small collection of antique cookbooks caught Jack’s eye. They weren't big sellers, not when Jack had colonial spellbooks and first edition grimoires on his shelves, but Bittle had noticed them right away that day he came in.

Shifting the pie to one hand, Jack grabbed one of the cookbooks with the other and slipped back out of the shop, not bothering to lock up behind him.

Ransom and Holster accepted the pie with as much gusto as Jack had expected.

(“Bro! How’d you get Bits to make you personal pie? That's dope!”

“I propose to him every other day or so, just so I can have that pie in my life forever. He thinks I'm kidding but I'm not.”)

Half of the pie was gone by the time he was back out of the door, and Jack breathed easier with its hauntingly delicious aroma far behind him. His anxiety spiked again as he remembered the book in his hand, and Jack scrambled to pull a piece of scrap paper – the back of a Jiffy Lube receipt – and scrawl out a quick note: Thanks for the pie. -JZ

Jack left the book and the note leaning up against the door of Peachy Keen and sped-walked away. He’d already diverted from his opening routine too much today; getting caught in conversation with Bittle was out of the question.

It wasn’t until he was back in his shop that Jack let himself breathe easy. He let out a deep sigh and began organizing the displays and cleaning up paperwork, readying himself for the day. Nursey, his assistant and one of the calmer members of Ransom and Holster’s pack, slipped behind the register with two minutes to spare, nose stuck in a well-worn book. Jack nodded at him in greeting, somehow still surprised when Nurse managed to nod back without taking his eyes off the page.

“I’ll take the register today,” Jack said as he flipped the sign in the window to say OPEN. “We got a restoration order in yesterday, seventeenth century French herbiary. Thought you’d like to take the reins on this one.”

Nursey looked up, surprised. “Really? By myself?”

Jack shrugged, shooing Nurse away from the register. “You’re one of the fastest learning conservators I’ve ever met. I have faith in you. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

“Chill,” Nursey said, face still blank with confusion, but a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be in the back.”

Jack grinned at Nursey’s retreating back, and steeled himself as the door opened. He wasn’t the best with customers – even Nurse, as laconic as he could be in conversation, had an ease and charm about him that enticed patrons of the shop – but Jack could answer questions and handle the register as well as any awkward teenager working their first job.

Around noon, just as Jack’s stomach began to rumble, he was pulled away from the counter by a customer who couldn’t reach the twentieth-century wizard’s almanacs. (Why anyone in Massachusetts needed a 1957 almanac for Prince Edward Island was a mystery to him, but, hey, it paid the bills.)

When Jack returned to the register, a pie was sitting on the counter, still steaming. There was a hot pink note attached to this one, but no sign of Bittle.

Found your gift this morning and HAD to put one of the recipes to use! Buttermilk pie with Comfort. Glad you liked the last one. <3 ERB

Jack sighed, heart fluttering uncomfortably in his chest. This feeling was like anxiety, gnawing at his diaphragm like acid, but something in it made his limbs and heart light. Bittle loved his gift. He loved it so much that he used it immediately...and had given Jack another pie he couldn’t possibly eat.

“Where’s Nurse?”

Jack looked up from the pie to see Dex and Chowder, Nursey’s friends and packmates. Dex was the Haus’ handyman and least flirty bartender; Chowder, however, had left his job at the butcher’s shop to apprentice at Peachy Keen. From what Jack had heard, Bittle adored Chowder. Something a little too close to jealousy stirred in Jack at that thought, so he tamped it down and gestured at the pie.

“He’s restoring. You two want pie?”

“Is that one of Bitty’s?” Dex asked, eyeing it carefully. Jack snatched the note away from the tin before either man could read it, stuffing it into the pages of his ledger.

“Yeah. He dropped it off while I was in the back,” Jack said. “You two want it?”

“Chyeah we want it,” Nursey said, coming up behind Jack. His reading glasses were dangerously low on his nose and his hair was tousled, but he seemed in high spirits. Jack assumed the restoration was going well. “Takin’ my lunch break, boss. Bitty Pie Lunch is the best lunch.”

Jack scowled. “Try to eat something with a bit more protein,” he said sternly. “You’ll crash by three if you just eat sugar.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Z,” Nurse said, waving him off. “Be back in thirty.”

“I can’t believe you call him Mr. Z,” Dex scolded as they walked away. “He’s a Zimmermann, don’t you think you should be a little politer?”

Chowder was clearly, willfully ignoring the fight that was about to erupt. “Guys, I can’t believe we get free Bitty Pie! I don’t even get that and I work for him!”

Jack knew his face was flushing horribly as the boys left the shop, but he schooled his features as he put up the BACK AT 1 sign in the window and grabbed his lunch – and another cookbook – and all but ran to Weeds n’ Things.

“Two pies in a day? Jacques,” Shitty said as they ate their lunches among the perennials. “Go into that shop and talk to that man. You know how many pies he’s made me? One. To introduce himself. And he made me share it with the Taddies.” Shitty jerked his head at the couple of kids he’d hired after Ollie and Wicks left the nursery to open their own store. “He clearly wants to get to know you, which is not easy seeing as you’ve decided to be the token hermit of Samwell.”

Jack ducked his head, concentrating on his sandwich. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to get to know Bittle, but he knew stepping foot in Peachy Keen was out of the question. “I hate Ransom and Holster’s pub crawl nights, though.”

Shitty patted him on the back. “I know, bud. But Bits is, like, the most outgoing person I know. You’ll be able to talk with him as long as you try to leave your cave every once and awhile.”

“If you say so,” Jack mumbled into his PB&J. “Is he always so cheerful? He seems really...chipper.”

“Chipper?” Shitty snorted. “We’re in America, speak American, Jack.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “I can’t understand you, your accent is so foreign to my sensitive, Canadian ears.”

Shitty snorted again and elbowed Jack in the ribs. “See? When you hide away from the world, I’m the only one who gets to see how funny you are. And, to answer your questions, yes, Bits is the chipper-est person I’ve ever met. He’s, like, the opposite of you,” he added with a teasing grin. “He’s great, really, I think you guys’d really get on.”

Jack nodded, getting lost in memories of Bittle smiling and waving at him across the square as they went about their days. He seemed so bright, so sunny, that Jack always wondered what kind of glamours he used, or if the way he shone was all in Jack’s imagination.

“I’m gonna ask Chowder to drop off this book for him, after lunch,” he said eventually, patting the cookbook by his lunch sack. Shitty beamed at him, (probably) unaware of the spinach stuck to his mustache.

“You beautiful fucker,” Shitty sound through a mouthful of salad. “Wooing Bitty Bits with books. You guys are gonna get married and have twelve thousand sparkly nerd babies. I love it.”

“Shut up,” Jack muttered with no real heat. “He likes cookbooks.”

“So cute,” Shitty said, batting his eyelashes. “Mushy cute. I’m gonna ralph.”

“So Lardo’s been hanging around a lot,” Jack said casually, taking a bite of sandwich. “That’s interesting.”

“She needs herbs for the apothecary,” Shitty said, a little too defensively. “Apparently it’s salve season.”

Jack grinned. “Sure, Shits.”

“Oh, shut up, you big book wooer,” Shitty grumbled. Jack laughed so loud that the Taddies all jumped, and the one named Tango tripped over a flower pot.

Jack returned to his shop that afternoon in higher spirits and with one less cookbook in his inventory.

Jack and Bitty traded pies and books for almost a week without actually speaking in person. Jack could never manage to catch Bitty outside of Peachy Keen, and the chimney crow was always making a ruckus in the back whenever Bitty dropped by the bookshop. Nurse thought it was all too amusing, and had started calling the bird Johnson, just because “it suits him, man.”

“It’s because Johnson is a euphemism for dick,” Lardo said when Jack told her. “‘Cause that bird sounds like a fucking dick.”

“Okay,” had been Jack’s only response, because, really, what was he supposed to say to that?

It was Friday evening when Jack was just locking up the store that he finally got his chance to speak with Bittle. As he headed down the steps to the sidewalk, a bright, cheerful voice called his name. “Jack!” Bittle jogged down the sidewalk, waving with one hand, carrying a pie in the other. “So glad I caught you! I was gonna stop by earlier but we were packed all day, then this disoriented crow flew smack dab into the window of the shop and I had to rush the poor critter to the Falconer’s Lodge – I know he’s not a falcon but I couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be able to heal a bird! So George – have you met Georgia Martin? She’s delightful! – George managed to patch the silly old thing up in no time, and then the thing just flew off! So I had to run back to the shop – poor Chowder had to close up himself, I felt so bad – and grab this pie to thank you for the last book you sent! I’ve really been so interested in incorporating more herbs in my baking, they have such wonderful properties that come out in cooking, but I’ve never had time to study them! Anyway, sorry for rambling, I’m just so glad I caught you – and in person this time! I hope you like key lime and cheer.”

Bittle all but shoved the pie into Jack’s hands, and he took it hesitantly, careful not to touch the crust, just in case. Brow furrowing, Bittle seemed to notice Jack’s caution.

“Do you not like key lime?” He asked, wringing his hands together. “Oh, goodness, you don’t, I should’ve gone with pecan, I just couldn’t decide-”

“Bittle,” Jack said softly, cutting him off. “I...I really appreciate all the pies, but. But, I can’t eat them.”

“Why?” Bittle asked, tilting his head. “Are you on some sort of diet? Are you gluten free?” He gasped. “I should've asked if you had celiac or were lactose intolerant or-”

“It’s the pixie dust,” Jack said, feeling his cheeks burn against his will. “I’m allergic.”

Bittle’s eyes widened. “You’re...allergic to pixie dust?”

“Yes.”

“But your dad is Bad Bob-”

“I’m aware.”

“Wow.” Bittle carefully took the pie out of Jack’s hands, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Gosh, Jack, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you could eat these- oh! Please tell me they haven’t affected you!”

Jack knew his face was probably bright red, but he soldiered on. “I, uh. Did have to go to urgent care after the first one. It was delicious,” he added, scratching the back of his neck. “But, uh…”

“Oh, my Lord!” Bitty shrieked, dropping the pie to cover his mouth. “Oh, Jack, oh, gosh- Let me pay your medical bills- I can help out at your shop, too, I’m real handy with cleaning without any pixie dust, I promise-”

“Bittle,” Jack interrupted, holding up his hands. “It’s okay. I have insurance, the urgent care bill isn’t going to force me into debt, I promise. It’s not the first time this has happened nor will it be the last.”

Jack was stunned to see tear – actual tears – in Bittle’s eyes. “Jack, I could’ve killed you.”

“It’s okay-” Bitte scoffed, wiping at his eyes. “No, seriously, I’m not deathly allergic, I promise. And do you know how hard it is to navigate life in America when you’re allergic to pixie dust? I had so many incidents growing up my mother seriously considered putting me in a bubble.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” Bitty insisted, wrapping his arms around himself. “I just wanted to talk to you so bad, but you seemed so cool and standoffish-”

Jack snorted, against his better judgement. “You are the only person who thinks I’m cool.”

“Please let me make it up to you,” Bitty pleaded. “I’ll clean your shop, wash your car, anything-”

“You wanna get dinner?” Jack asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I know a great, little Thai place. No pixie dust,” he joked, nudging Bitty’s arm with his elbow.

Bittle sniffed, but gave Jack a small smile. “Okay, but it’s my treat.”

“Sure, Bittle,” Jack said. “This time.”

Bittle pursed his lips but took Jack’s proffered arm, leaning in to Jack’s space to chat as they wandered down the street. Behind them, a suspiciously intelligent, happily meddlesome crow pecked at the remains of the pie that were splattered across the sidewalk.

Monday morning, Jack arrived at his shop to find another pie sitting on the stoop. The note on top was robin’s egg blue and read: Sterilized my kitchen. Bought all new utensils. There is not a speck of pixie dust in this pie. I hope you enjoy blackberry, Mr. Zimmermann.

Jack smiled to himself and picked up the pie, breathing in its scent. Even without pixie dust, everything about it smelled magical.

Careful not to drop it, Jack unlocked the door with his free hand and shouldered his way into the store. He went straight back to his small, personal office and stowed the pie inside. This was one treat he would not be sharing.

#omgcp fic #check please!#zimbits #zimbits fic #magic au #writing tag #mine #pre-relationship #otp: hit me like a ray of sun #anna writes things

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