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mc-lukanette · 1 year ago

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Ladybug just barely managed to squeeze through the window of the Liberty without being seen, her groan overtaking the sound of her detransformation. Finding places to hide as Marinette was simple when she could so easily slip out of a group, but when Ladybug got so much attention from everyone, it was nearly impossible to get back to where she was before. As it was, she'd had to use her aqua powers to hide in the water until she was sure it was safe to leap into the Liberty.

Maybe I should start carrying the mouse, she thought, slapping her cheeks to try and snap herself back into focus. Her mind whirled as she tried to remember what her excuse had been so she could follow up on it.

She was pretty sure it’d been snacks; she’d told everyone that she was heading downstairs to get snacks and drinks for them.

Heading over to the door leading to the deck, she opened it back up and hurried to grab some trays to put snacks on. Fumbling to gather things to make up for the time she was away, she tried not to get distracted by the conversation she could faintly hear up on deck.

"Haven't you wanted to change your look? It's been months now," came Mylene's voice. "Those costumes are starting to get old. I don't know about everyone else's, but Ivan's is starting to get beat up."

Marinette froze. Even without hearing the specific words, she knew they were talking about Kitty Section's costumes.

"We could ask Marinette to fix them up?" Rose suggested.

Alya dismissed the idea. "She's been busy all week! There's no way."

She wasn't wrong. Marinette tensed, already thinking about what'd just happened. She was living three lives - Marinette, Ladybug, and now the guardian - so it was only logical that she couldn't keep up.

"Oh," Zoe piped up. "If it's the costumes, I could find someone who's worked with real bands before on costumes? You could get a designer who could make something that'd last for a long time."

"Really? That's right, you even know the mayor!"

"That'd be awesome!"

"As long as you don't let Chloe hear, okay?"

Marinette fidgeted with the tray, hating the fact that a familiar jealousy was stirring in her chest. She and Zoe were friends, with Marinette being the one who vouched for her in the first place, so she had no one to blame but herself. Zoe was a great person: she was friendly, not awkward, and was even building a better relationship with the mayor of Paris. Anyone would want her company and Marinette couldn't compete with that.

It was inevitable that the costumes could get worn or damaged too, even by accident. She breathed up, steeling herself for the topic as she took the trays of snacks and started heading up to the deck.

Then, she heard Luka chime in, "They're Marinette's designs. We worked on them together and those two weeks are a verse I never want to forget."

"You don't have to throw the costumes away or anything," Alix interjected, confused by the emotional weight behind the words. "You'll just have new designs."

He paused, then directed his voice elsewhere as he asked, "What do you guys think?"

Some hums sounded amongst the rest of Kitty Section, Rose speaking up first to say, "New designs just mean we have more designs, right?"

Ivan added on, unsure, "I thought it was cool of Marinette to make these for us. It's kinda hard finding stuff that fits me."

"Mm," Juleka hummed noncommittally. "I like the worn look..."

"I guess it would be up to the band," Mylene pointed out. "Maybe we could vote yay or nay?"

"We're not getting anywhere like this," Alya countered. "All I'm saying is that it'll just put pressure on—"

By that point, Marinette had already stepped into view with the trays. She'd taken time and focus so as to not topple anything by accident, but was still wholly aware of the conversations. All eyes darted to her and it was difficult to tell who felt awkward and who was simply waiting for her to speak.

Keeping her expression as flat as possible, she went over to the nearest table and set the trays down. Standing straight to face everyone, she told them, "It's like Alya said: I'm busy. I'm not reliable enough to make repairs or new ones either, so..." She shrugged as casually as she could. "Those designs were made on a time crunch anyway, and I want you guys to have the best."

"See?" Alya gestured at Marinette whilst looking at Luka. "She thinks so too."

Having just been Ladybug a few minutes ago, Marinette had already had more than enough attention for the day. Preferring not to involve herself further, she turned on her heel and started heading back below deck, leaving Zoe free to use her connections without guilt of her watching.

"Marine—" Luka called behind her, but stopped short. She heard his footsteps follow after hers, but didn't discourage him and continued walking.

As she re-entered the lounge room, she went straight for the couch; not around, but straight ahead for the backrest. Putting her hands on top, she hefted herself over and plopped down onto the cushions, allowing her to lay back and stare up at the ceiling. A click of the door followed and Luka's face soon hovered over her from above the backrest.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why? You were trying to defend me."

He put his forearms up on the couch, allowing him to lean forward more. "You're part of the band too, to me. I shouldn't've said anything without you there."

"You don't believe me." It wasn't a question.

"I just wanted to make sure there wasn't something deeper to it."

As deep as a bottomless pit, Marinette lamented, wanting to scream but not having the voice to. Instead, she waved her arms about and continued to insist, "Look, I really am busier than when I made you those outfits! That's why we we couldn't date!"

His eyes widened at that, and it took her a moment to realize why: she hadn't specified that part when they'd broken up. She'd been tired, emotionally drained, and not thinking particularly clearly at the time, so the actual reasoning had been left out.

"When you're ready, I'll be here, Marinette," was what he'd said then, but the actual timeline after the fact was a little fuzzy for some reason. She guessed it was also related to her exhaustion.

She sat up to be closer to him, talking again before she could think further on it, "I'd feel awful if Kitty Section had to keep holding itself back because I don't have the energy for it, okay? You guys need new costumes and Zoe is the best for the job, so don't do this for me—"

"Zoe?" Luka's brows drew together in puzzlement.

"...Yes?" She tilted her head, equally confused by his response. "She's the one who offered. She has connections that I don't."

He shook his head. "That's not it. She's not the best for the job, she's just finding someone else to do it."

Marinette stopped halfway to a reply, having been caught in her mindset. Either he was that observant or she was extremely transparent about it. She planted her soles on the floor, turning so that her back faced him.

Luka walked around the couch to sit next to her, keeping a careful distance but being close enough for them to talk comfortably with each other. "Zoe can't do what you do, Marinette." Then, thoughtful, he assured, "But we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Except that was just the thing. She wanted to - always wanted to - yet there were never-ending obstacles to that. Everything she said had to be carefully calculated or she'd run the risk of causing everyone more trouble, but sometimes the choice would just be taken from her anyway if she waited too long. It was a tightrope walk of balancing words she should say with words that she shouldn't.

And she wanted off.

"I—" She grit her teeth, hands gripping the fabric of her capris. "It's not... it's not about what she can do. It's about what she doesn't have to. She doesn't have to worry about a packed schedule, or dealing with responsibilities she didn't ask for, or making time to do something for a friend because she can find someone else to do it."

Luka let out a hum of acknowledgment. She saw his hand reach over out of the corner of her eye, hovering silently over her hand closest to him. When she didn't pull back or express displeasure, his hand dropped onto hers and squeezed.

"There's nothing wrong with being jealous," he told her.

Stiffening, she pulled away from him on the couch and stood back up, arguing, "But there is! Zoe hasn't done anything wrong and I'm not allowed to want you after what happened, especially not when she's just a better me!"

"...What?"

She groaned, messing up her own bangs just so she could fix them again. "A better me. She was bullied too, but she's not—she's not like me. No one teases her or makes fun of her for what she does, but I'm such a disaster with everything that—"

"You want me?" he clarified.

Marinette met his gaze, having thought that was obvious from having told him why she'd had to break up with him. "Yeah? Who wouldn't?" Paying no mind to the blush that appeared on his face, she continued to throw her arms out and vent, "But I don't make people happy! I don't fit! Zoe doesn't get upset like I do, she doesn't have to run off all the time, and she doesn't make people argue over costumes since she's not the one who makes them anyway!"

She couldn't even look at Luka anymore, too ashamed to face him directly. She couldn't recall how she'd made the connection between her own issues and Zoe's, but finding out that she was jealous was another matter. It took time to properly recognize the feeling, but only because her initial experiences with jealousy were different.

Specifically, with Adrien. Whenever it came to seeing other girls around him, she'd wanted to interfere, to stop it at all costs. The exception had been Kagami at times, but due to a mixture of guilt and a desire not to lose her friendship with someone who'd openly told her (openly told Ladybug) that she prioritized pursuing Adrien over said friendship.

With Luka though, she'd never felt any rivalry or animosity towards anyone she deemed a "better fit" for him, and she never thought to act out on it. While Zoe had never made attempts to go after Luka herself, Marinette imagined it was only a matter of time if Zoe was indeed a better her, and she'd find it hard to complain if it ended up working out.

The difference in her states of jealousy was obvious: one was an obsession - "eyes on the prize," so to speak - while the other was a genuine love and desire to see the person she loved be happy. It hurt thinking about how it would all end regardless, but she was prepared to face it.

"...Marinette," Luka began slowly, still piecing his words together. He inhaled, exhaled, then finally said, "You can't decide that."

She faltered, scared to look at him directly in case she had an unpleasant expression on, but too confused not to do something. She turned her head just enough to peek at him through her bangs.

He continued without her asking directly, "No one makes me happy the way you do. Not Zoe, not anyone. You can't decide who fits me best just like everyone else can't decide what to do about the costumes without hearing you out first."

"But..." She shook her head despondently. "It was a nightmare dating me? I don't want you to want me if it'll just lead to that."

"What if you're the musician?"

That got her to look at him, in sheer befuddlement if nothing else. She'd registered the oncoming metaphor, but still failed to follow it to its conclusion. "What do you mean?"

"What if you're the musician, and I'm the guitar you had to stop playing because the music didn't sound right?" He put his hands in place to act as if there was a guitar in his lap. "Then you see a newer, fancier guitar that comes with all sorts of accessories, and everyone thinks you'd look great with it."

She gaped, horrified by the thought. "I-I wouldn't want that!" She sat down next to him again, huffing. "Just because it's new and fancy doesn't mean it'd work for me, and I already have memories with the guitar I have now! Maybe the music didn't work but—"

Something clicked. Luka must've seen it in her expression too, his frown making way for a smile instead.

"...There's nothing wrong with the instrument," she finished quietly.

He nodded. "Yeah. It was bad timing. Even the best musicians can get the timing wrong when it matters."

Sliding closer to her as she'd done earlier to him, he gripped her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. Marinette gasped sharply, suddenly surrounded by warmth when she'd felt so cold before. It really was as if he'd never let her go so long as she didn't move.

Whispering so as to not break the moment, Luka questioned, "Do you know what it was about my dad?"

She gripped onto whatever fabric was nearest to her, uttering a soft, "M-mm?" in response.

"I know he left, and it hurt me, but he came back in the end. He wanted to make it up to me. He could've decided that I wasn't worth it, or that he still wasn't interested in being around me, but he didn't." He rubbed her back, seeking to soothe her. "I believe in second chances, and if someone wants to ask me for one, then it's my choice to let them back in. I'm choosing you, Marinette."

She blinked rapidly, feeling potential tears coming on. While reluctant to pull apart from him, she broke the hug momentarily to see his face again. The temptation to jump on the offer was strong, but she admitted, "I...I don't know how to convince myself that it's okay."

"I can show you," he offered. "We'll take it at whatever pace you want, and I'll show you that it's okay."

Her eyes give him the answer before her mouth did, her body stunned still by the gesture. She'd really thought that she'd lost him for good and that there wasn't any hope left, but he stuck with her anyway.

She wanted to kiss him in gratitude, but it didn't happen right away. The close contact made it easy for her to let her hands wander, fingertips trailing across the bare skin of his forearms. Luka accepted all of it, reciprocating by touching her face and feeling along her cheekbones as if he hadn't already memorized every centimeter of them.

They were the kinds of touches that she'd - that they'd - wanted since they got together in the first place, but never did. They're gentle yet eager, tentative yet meaningful.

The kiss followed afterward, somewhat clumsy when their noses bumped, but they weren't deterred from continuing. They held each other, relishing in the contact they hadn't gotten to have the first time they'd attempted it at the cinema. Even the soft 'click' as they pulled apart became ingrained in Marinette's memory as something special.

Luka touched his lips with his fingertips, feeling along the surface, but stopped to point out, "You've been worrying about me this whole time."

"H-hm?" She also had to stop herself from touching her lips to reply.

"What about you?" he prompted, staring at her directly. "How do you feel?"

Her lips quivered, but she was smiling. Knowing that he knew the answer already, she threw her arms around him to return his hug from earlier.

She felt happy. She felt like she could safely talk to him about things without fear or repercussions. She felt the weight of the world lift off her shoulders, even if it was only for a moment.

Most importantly, she felt loved.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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kitty-mactabbysh · 5 months ago

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The Thrills of the Job 𝓐ᥫ᭡.

Well it is that time of the year again! That time when I'm so busy with work I can barely do anything 😭

But this has been sitting in the drawer for a while so I decided... why not?

Graves-centric short story or whatever 🫶✨️

———°◇.

“If I didn't know you well, I'd say you ain't quite happy now, are you?” The blonde said, his tone a bit mocking. The man standing in front of him groaned in annoyance, the back of his hand flying before hitting Phillip's face a second later.

The Commander didn't flinch. Even though he wasn't expecting it, even though he could taste the blood of having his tongue bitten by accident, the act itself was not a surprise. He shifted his wrists a little around the cuffs tying his hands behind his back, eyebrows knitting together in an all too familiar expression of disdain.

“Yeah. Guess not.”

“Shut up, you son of a bitch.” His jailer growled, looking down at him with pure, unfiltered anger. He had been left to tend to that cocky fucker for nearly three hours now, and he would never forgive his boss for ordering him so. Graves was smart, nothing they hadn't heard of before… but he was annoying, and that he couldn't take. His eyebrows furrowed, no need for more insults. “You're not supposed to talk.”

“Oh?” Phillip raised an eyebrow, seeming pleasantly amused by the situation. “I thought all your boss wanted was to talk. I was wrong eh? God damn.”

The thugh's fingers curled up into tight fists.

“Told you to shut the hell up!”

Another slap. Stronger this time, earning a chuckle from Graves. He did not sound even remotely bothered by his situation, which only fueled the captor’s anger more.

“Did I really strike a nerve that deep?” Graves completely ignored the last two orders to shut it, taking pleasure in the fact that his voice annoyed the man to no end. “You should know by now, after so many years in this business… that nothing is ever personal.”

The man glared at him, his mind undoubtedly playing out yet another heavy slap to that mouthy bastard's face.

“Nothing personal? You double-crossed my boss! You're working with the government!” He sounded very eager to end his prisoner's life, and, quite frankly, Phillip couldn't blame him. If the roles were reversed, maybe he wouldn't have had the same amount of restraint.

“Nothing I can do if they're always much better clients.” The blonde looked away, then back up at him with a pout. “And, if I am to be honest, they would've seen this betrayal coming a mile away. Maybe you're not as good an observant as you think you are, tootsie.”

Another slap. Graves opened his mouth to try and quell the pain.

“But to hell if you don't got a strong hand on ya…”

“You're lucky the boss wants to have a word with you, asshole.” The man wrinkled his nose, finally turning his back on Graves and walking over to the door. He’s had enough for one night. “Or else you'd be minced meat by now.”

The soft sound of a tongue clicking filled the air in that momentary moment of silence.

“I wouldn't turn my back on me so quickly if I were you.” He heard the American's mocking tone from behind him. “It never ends well.”

For the first time since he had captured that little son of a bitch, the man scoffed in amusement. He knew Shadow Company were hard-asses, but they were no Konni Group. A threat like that, coming from the likes of Makarov or Ivan, would have scared him a lot more. But Phillip Graves? He didn't know enough about the man's reputation to fear him, and having him locked up and cuffed like that? Laughable. A defenseless prisoner like Graves could never cause any resemblance of trouble for him, or anyone else at the HQ for that matter. The only person left to realize it, the thugh thought, was the Shadow himself.

He shook his head in annoyance, tired of entertaining his stupid prisoner’s sarcasm, and turned the handle to open the door. His eyes widened for a split second before a bullet was put on his head, his time to react completely robbed of him by the surprise attack.

“Boys, you're late.” Phillip said in a sing-song voice, looking up at the Shadows pouring inside his cell, their stances combative as they swept the place clear of danger. “I took… three slaps or something since I got here.”

“You were heavily guarded, sir.” One of the men approached him, holstering his weapon before trying his hand at lock-picking, the handcuffs that chained Graves to the precarious chair fell to the ground with a loud clank. “What did you do this time?”

“It's nothing, Vance.” The Commander's tone was dismissive as he finally stood up, massaging his sore wrists. He took a good look around, eyes resting on the younger man once more. “It was just another bad client.”

He then gladly accepted the rifle that was being offered to him and lifted his hand, gesturing for them to follow him. His men. His Shadows.

“Thanks for the save, Shadows. Right on time, as always Or... almost.” His tone was cheerful, like the past hours in captivity did not happen at all. “Now, let's get the hell out of here, yeah?”

“Yup yup!”

“Good. Glad I can always count on you.” He patted one of his soldiers on the back as they exited the cell, then casually looked down at the body of his jailer on his way out. There was a small, eerily apologetic smile on his lips.

“Told you not to turn your back on me, didn't I?”

#call of duty: modern warfare ii #cod mwiii #phillip graves #this is like #him ONLY #idc idc #kidnappings (gone wrong)#graves alert i am so sorry #but also kind of not?#the tabby with a mohawk #and somewhat a little energy #yayyy it's my bad writing again #♤ Shadow Co.

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the-belle-siblings · 4 months ago

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Caden feels his hand tremor as he reaches for the handle of the front door. He could hear his heart thumping in his ears and could feel his skin crawling. He swallows hard and twists the door knob cracking open the entrance. He peaks inside and sure enough right in front of him on the floor was Ivan, a part of his mind was screaming for him to run.

🗿Are you trying to air condition the entire neighborhood? *He picks up Milktoast, cradling her in his arms like a baby*

🗿Get in here so I can talk to you.

O- oh yeah- okay- Hi

Caden walks in and shuts the door behind him feeling his heart in his throat, his lungs beginning to tighten. If he wasn't so damn nervous right now he'd be smiling and giggling about the way Ivan was holding the cat.

🗿I'm not good with feelings.

I know I'm sorry...

🗿Shut up for a second, okay? I just... I'm not good with words. *His words sounded unnaturally sweet for some reason. It made him want to bury himself alive.*

Okay, sorr–

🗿I don't want to hear another apology out of your mouth! *Aggression laced his words habitually as he pulled out the poem out of his pocket.*

Ivan please- I don't think I want to hear it anymore-

Caden could feel his anxiety spiking as he looked at that sheet of paper. He had ruined everything between them. He killed it. He killed it with poetry. He folded his arms to hide his shaking hands. He felt like he was about to get sick. Caden was barely suppressing an upcoming coughing fit.

🗿For the past few months I've felt like I despised you, there was some sort of uncomfortable squirming feeling in my chest when you were near and now I know why...

Isn't this- Isn't this a little much-? Gods...

The rejection was striking him deep to his core, he couldn't stop shaking. Why? Why? Had he really believed there was hope?

🗿I'd say it's probably too little.... This poem is...

Please Ivan, I can't stand to hear in detail how much you despise me...

🗿What? I was trying to- *He thinks over what he just said and the tones he was using. He hadn't realized how awful he really was with words. He set Milktoast down quickly and shoos her off. The cat, although confused, complied and skittered off.*

🗿Oh no- no no no- Caden, I- that's not what I'm saying- I'm trying to say that I- *He waves his hands around a little, he never thought he'd really have to confess this to anyone, even when he was a kid.*

I'll just... I'll go, I get the point... I'm sorry...

He stares down at the floor his vision blurring. He coughs just a little bit. The weight in his lungs felt heavy, his throat itched for relief. He backs away towards the door.

🗿*He grabs Caden's hand* No! You don't get the point! I lo- I- I lo-

🗿*He grunts in frustration, his cheeks flushed red, he felt so stupid. This feeling was so embarrassing for some reason, he had never honestly felt this way before. Being in love felt foolish, it's just a soft spot to be exploited and yet... he never desired anything more, no not even world domination. Caden was something most precious to him in a way nothing else could compare.*

🗿You are my weakness, Caden.... I want you more than anything... let me have you, please?

Caden felt like he was kneed in the stomach, all the air was sucked out of him in one moment. He had emotional whiplash from the complete 180 his brain just did.

That's a funny way of asking me to be your–

🗿Don't tease me right now! *Ivan demanded but only because he felt like he might actually shed tears currently.*

🗿....but uhm... please..? *He added feeling a little bit shy for once in his life.*

🗿I uhm... I really do love you, Caden.... *He practically whispers, unable to look him in the eyes. He begins to gently release Caden from his grasp.*

I lo–

Caden the felt like something was seriously wrong with his body, he couldn't breathe. The flowers in his lungs were dying off and desperate to escape the fleshy walls of his body. He tries to wheeze or cough or anything, he just fucking can't.

🗿Caden? Caden?! Ah fuck, I've killed him.

He starts pounding on his chest, trying to clear his airway somehow. Although he couldn't necessarily die, not breathing didn't feel too good.

🗿*Ivan quickly yanks Caden forward and positions himself to do the heimlich maneuver on him. He follows through the process of abdominal thrusts and back blows until Caden starts spitting up wilted petals.*

The second he can cough again Caden is hacking to the point of wheezing. Petal after petal, flower after flower, stems, roots, all of it racing to leave his lungs.

🗿There we go... *He stands there with him, gently rubbing his back.* It's alright, it's alright....

After some time, Caden can breathe again, everything feels so much lighter. He sucks in air the moment he can. Caden stumbles around a little bit, feeling light headed. He steps back into Ivan and looks up at him and just smiles.

As I was saying...

Caden starts, his voice sore and raspy from coughing so hard.

I love you, Ivan, and there's nothing in the world I'd rather be than your romantic partner.

🗿*Ivan just smiles, unapologetically smiles, and then kisses him on the forehead.*

🗿Then... you shall be what you desire, hm? *He tells him softly before lifting Caden's heavy ass off the ground and begins to carry him off to his room, stepping awkwardly over the mess of dead flowers and Caden's life juice.*

Oh-? Already?

Caden questions as he watches Ivan jiggle open his bedroom while trying to keep Caden supported in his arms.

🗿Already what? You've been in here dozens of times. *Ivan manages to open the bedroom door and walk over to his bed before dropping Caden down onto the mattress.*

🗿Don't move - that is if you even have the energy to - I'm going to clean up all those flowers and whatever... I will be back with snacks for you and when I return you can use me as a pillow like usual.

Caden felt his toothy grin grow wider. The idea of the unmentionable 'it' hadn't even crossed Ivan's mind. It honestly put him at ease. His heart swelled with affection, Ivan just wanted to take care of him. If he weren't so exhausted he'd pull his boyfriend (He could call him that now!) into a crushing hug.

Sounds great

🗿I'm great

You are

🗿*He laughs just a little and strokes a hand through Caden's hair.* I'll be right back, kay?

Kay!

🗿*Ivan walks off and as he's about to shut the door he stops and peaks his head back in* Love you!

Love you more!

🗿Nope! Can't! *Ivan then shuts the door and goes back to mop up where Caden emptied his lungs out.*

Caden just kinda giggles to himself and hugs a nearby pillow, he was absolutely exhausted but he was satisfied and happy in a way he had probably never felt. He felt like he was getting the happily ever after he had desired for so long. Things were looking up and he was genuinely excited to see what the future held for both of them.

#invincible🗿#caden umbra-nati #moonstone!!

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years ago

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Draw your swords, pt. 6

Summary: Losing someone can make you realize what was already there and the Darkling is about to find that out the hard way.

Warnings: angst, violence, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five

=================================

Five days have passed and the Darkling had never stopped looking for his wife. His men never saw him rest, sleep was simply never on his agenda. He barely ate at all, merely giving time for the rest of them to gather their strength.

He was restless, constantly questioning how this could have happened. No matter how he looked at it, the Darkling felt guilt consuming him. Without his rage, he worried the guilt would have paralyzed him. Had he not went on a pointless hunt for something that’s likely a tale, she would have been right by his side, antagonizing him.

It’s been hundreds of years since he felt this way, as if his heartstrings are being pulled by someone other than himself. In this search for Y/N, he realized she is consuming. After all, she might have been right – a part of him may actually care for her. He cursed that part of himself over and over again as result.

They’ve tracked her toward Fjerdan borders. Every now and then, they would find bodies on the road, their throat cut or stabbed right through the heart. Sometimes, he found them alive still. He never refrained from calling on his shadows, trying to draw useful information to close in on their whereabouts.

Y/N never saw him use his shadows before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d disapprove of the means he’s using to find her. After all, she called him a demon on their wedding night. She would never accept him as he is, he had no doubt about that.

Did she want to be found by him?

The first body they found, the Darkling smiled. He didn’t question it was her hands who have taken the man’s life. There was no concrete proof, but he was certain of it. Every body found felt like her own version of breadcrumbs.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. If she managed to set herself free so many times to leave what was now five dead men behind, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. What was the price of each crumb she left?

It wasn’t just the exposure to snow he worried about – and he did worry as she got cold too quickly and he was the one to warm her up before. Who’d warm her up now?

The darkness of the forest gave him cause to worry too – she may have tried to hide it, but he knew she was afraid of the dark. He realized it when her breathing turned shallow and fast their first night together just as she extinguished the candlelight. The next night, he left his candle to burn long into the night.

Something stirred inside him, a beast has awakened. Despite the war his heart and mind waged, he wondered if he’s his own worst enemy. Maybe it was time to let someone in. For too long, he had been alone in the shadows of his past lives.

Why is he repeating the same mistakes?

How can he be afraid when he married a woman who never blinks in the face of danger?

His heart was ice and stone until she came and now the ice has started to melt. All he’s done is hurt and destroy, but he wanted out of the loneliness that clings to him.

She was right, as hard as it is to admit it. He’s a demon, a devil that walks the earth and he cares. Because of her he hopes he might love again and he can’t let anyone take that from him – hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And when a devil falls in love and discovers hope, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful sight. They should fear him as he will go to the depths of hell to protect her.

While his eyes may have been closed, his heart jumped as a bright flash forced him to open them again.

He was never given a chance to be soft. His hands had to be bloody, to have people fear him. Only when they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. Now was the time to show them just why they fear him.

“Where?” He growled out, looking to Ivan and Fedyor who were looking at the sky.

“East”, Fedyor replied hastily, ready to follow Kirigan who set off in said direction without a second thought. He didn’t order anyone to follow, but they did.

Ivan and Fedyor walked two steps behind their general, alert as the flash had awakened them from a deep slumber. They weren’t the only ones shaken, unsure what they’re walking into but none showed fear as their general lead them straight to the source. Their loyalty, their belief in general Kirigan runs deep.

Except for David. He was afraid. He didn’t want to be in that forest and he didn’t want to be in danger, but he trusted Kirigan. Besides, Y/N was nice and Genya seemed to like her. So he came along too.

Kirigan walked in strides, the snow didn’t slow him down. His hands formed fists, his face twisted in anger, but his heart pounded in his chest as he had no inkling what he might find. All he knew was that he had to get there, fast.

As if made of darkness itself, the Darkling emerged on what looked like a battlefield. The trees surrounded a small clearing covered in snow that melted under the spilled blood – still warm as it poured from the dead surrounding her.

She’s on her knees, two Fjerdans chaining her up as if she’s a wild animal.

“You think you’re scary, huh?” She spat at the Fjerdan’s feet – a crimson liquid, Darkling realized. She’s bleeding.

“That’s adorable”, she chuckled maniacally as she held her fierce gaze on the Fjerdan stood before her. They pulled her left hand behind her back and her right hand in front as they tightened the chains that were secured over rope that laid just beneath.

Darkling’s blood boiled. It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Once again, he was afraid, not of her but for her.

Four more Fjerdans came from behind the trees, all covered in blood. “Fucking bitch”, one of them kicked her in the ribs and he couldn’t take anymore. He could kill them easily for what they’ve done – he’s killed every one of them he ran into in the past five days without even blinking, regardless if they were involved in her disappearance or not.

“Mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his handsome smile.”

Licking his lips, the Darkling nearly smiles at her remark. There’s no possible way she means anyone else but him. Looking at his Grisha, he found them nearly all in position. They would attack in a minute, swiftly and deadly.

Yet in a moment of carelessness, he missed the Fjerdans realization they’re being watched. Too quickly, more of them appeared. The pitiful human managed to land a few consecutive blows to Darkling’s face before drawing a dagger.

Angry, dark eyes showed the Fjerdan that the Darkling’s brain is in a different mode, that he has switched gears from empathy he had for his wife to cold emotional indifference. Never once has he directed this mode in Y/N’s direction, yet it emerged when he sensed a threat to her life, letting out a part of him that was full on protective.

Grunting, the Darkling’s eyes narrowed at the human who dared to sink the blade into his heart. Despite his immortality, he could still hurt. The pain of a stab wound felt just as it would if here as fragile as the human before him.

But he’s not human at all.

Connecting his hands, the Darkling lifts his head as he summons the darkness that spills from every corner of the forest. “Foolish”, he sneers, “Attacking me in the dark?” The Darkling smirked, walking past the petrified Fjerdan, allowing his shadows to administer a thousand cuts for his transgression.

As he walked toward the middle of the circle, his shadows followed, aiding his Grisha in taking the rest of the Fjerdans so quickly that Y/N gasped.

Looking around in shock, she found Kirigan kneeling beside her.

“You have a knife”, she coughed into her shoulder, “A knife in your chest.”

“I promised”, he gasped for breath as he pulled the knife from his chest. “That I would protect you and I intend to keep the damn promise.”

On the brink of tears, her lips quivered before she laughed. “I thought you’d let them kill me.” Better to laugh than cry, she thought.

Frowning, he shook his head. “That would be too easy”, he waved David over who stood at the tree line, wide eyed. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it should be me.”

Even with tears blurring her vision, she giggled at his stupid remark. She had tried so hard to free herself.

It wasn’t the first time she had been captured by enemies, she knew what to do. But there were so many of them. Each time she freed herself, they would descend upon her. She managed to run, twice, each time they dragged her back kicking and screaming.

Despite his words, Y/N didn’t believe Kirigan would come for her. She had to be her own hero and she tried. In the end, she used everything at her disposal – everything.

Feeling the chains drop, Y/N glances at David, “Thank you.” The ropes were cut as well, but she didn’t move. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own and asking for help would wound her. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she reluctantly looked at Kirigan.

“Here”, Kirigan offered his hands. Truth be told, he wanted to carry her, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Hissing, she forced herself up despite Kirigan’s offer. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

He’d have asked her again because she trembled when the wind blew. Her hair was matted with blood, her face red and not from blushing. He could see the damage they’ve done more clearly now as she bent to take a deep breath as if the simple act of breathing hurt her.

Staring at her, he nodded despite his better judgment. Her breathing was ragged, dragging her feet as she walked. She felt his eyes on her, it unnerved her. All she could do is hope her legs don’t give out, but it felt as if they would betray her any moment now.

“Go and make camp ahead”, he ordered his Grisha to speed up as he realized her stubbornness would kill her. Stepping before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. There would be no asking her for permission this time, he’ll not allow her to deny his help. Hoisting her up in his arm, he held his breath as she cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

How could he not bring any healers? How could he have been so stupid?

Groaning, she sent him a stern glare yet found no anger in his. His eyes are like the ocean - they have the potential to destroy, yet when the waves reach the shore, they dissipate, leaving soft designs in the sand as a gentle reminder of its presence.

Leaning into his embrace, Y/N let out a gentle sigh of resignation. She’s been caught in the riptide and for once, she doesn’t want to fight it.

“I really thought I’d die”, she admits reluctantly.

Feeling him stiffen as he held her in his arms, Y/N frowned. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, or anything at all. This isn’t what they do, they don’t bare their hearts open.

“And when I faced death”, she continued regardless. Tilting her head to look up at him, she let out a shuddered exhale. A shy smile adorned her lips as their eyes shared a gaze so tender, an outsider would believe them to be in love.

“I thought how silly it is that I don’t know your first name.”

Snorting, Kirigan raised his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yes”, she breathes out.

Looking at her now, the Darkling couldn’t believe this is his wife. The woman who infuriates him so often seemed so small, so fragile in his arms. Her gaze held remains of the horrors she was cast into and yet he never saw her as earnest before.

“I married you and I don’t even know your name.”

Licking his lips, he stops. Truth be told, no one actually knows his name. His name was long forgotten, a piece of his soul he had left behind in the fold. He promised himself he’d never utter it while he lives. He had promised he would never be that man again.

Unfortunately for him, he seems to be breaking his promises lately.

He promised her he’d protect her and he failed, just as he promised himself he’d never care for her and yet he does.

“Aleksander”, he mutters, still unsure if it’s the right decision. He placed one of his greatest secrets in the hands of a woman who’d see his world burn. He gave her power she never should possess and yet he’s not afraid. No one could make him fear anything after the ordeal he was put through since she decided to tear down his defenses.

Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt satisfied. It may be small, but finding out his name felt like a victory. She was born to play this game, it was her destiny. He is her destiny.

Waking up, she found herself wrapped in several blankets inside a tent. Grunting, she struggled to sit up on her own. It seemed to be dark still, but she had a blue light lantern lit inside. She may not know who left it there, but Y/N was thankful. Despite her fear of dark, she found it odd she did not fear Aleksander’s darkness at all.

When his shadows nearly encased her in the clearing, she didn’t fret or worry. She smiled.

As contradictory as it may seem, she wished he was with her now. Her entire body ached and still, she was more bothered by the empty spot beside her. Shaking her head, she bites her lower lip. Would it be so bad if she showed a sliver of vulnerability for a single night? Would making a small concession such as this truly take away her power?

Before she has a chance to change her mind, she’s already outside of her tent. The cold chilled her to the bone, biting every inch of exposed skin. Teeth chattering, she looked to the tent next to hers as it was the only one so close – seemingly intentional.

Trying to open it in the cold seemed impossible as her fingers shook violently. Feeling faint, she wondered why she couldn’t just stay in her own tent for the night. Surely it would have been a better idea than to admit she’s scared to be alone.

A warm liquid trickled down her lip and she nearly laughed at her own idiocy. The darkness and cold and her own injuries have all been fairly good reasons for her to just sleep and try to recover and she still tried to find her husband who showed so much disdain for her in the past.

Just as she was about to give up, a familiar head of hair peaked through.

Shivering, she wipes the liquid from under her nose with the back of her hand. Looking at it, she realizes it’s blood. There’s a slightly dazed look in her eyes, the blood loss suffered over the past days leaving its mark.

Looking up at Kirigan, her lips tremble and she sways slightly as her legs threaten to give out. “I didn’t know who else to go to”, she mumbles meekly before collapsing into Kirigan’s arms.

No…Aleksander’s arms.

Pulling her inside, he wrapped her in his arms as she shivered. Covering her with blankets didn’t seem to help either, but he had confidence it would soon enough.

She closed her eyes, clinging to him and selfishly, he smiled. It brought back memories of the night she climbed atop of him to warm up, he assumed. She didn’t know he was awake then, but she did now. She trusted him enough to seek warmth and as her shivers stopped slowly. That’s when the Darkling realized he would never deny her anything she asked of him.

“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath and her eyes open.

He looked at her in a haunted way, a shadow of a bruise marred his jaw and she reached up to touch it, her chest aching when he nuzzled into her palm. They have never been quite as tender with one another, never so intimate. It felt surprisingly nice.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, feeling so emotionally raw. Physical pain and lingering fear of impending death must have weakened her for a short while. Surely, she can allow herself a few moments of humanity?

He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”

Drawing a shuddered breath, her eyebrows knitted in worry. That’s where the knife was, she remembered with guilt. He could have died for her. Hating him requires too much energy; one she had little to spare. For the night, he can just be her husband and she will just be his wife. What harm can it do?

“Why did you come for me? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t fight for me?” Her confidence wavered as he sighed, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Not only did he come for her, but he murdered men for her.

Blinking slow, half in a daze as a low-grade fever began to grip her too, she had no more strength to deny how beautiful he is or how disarming his charm is. He may never love her, but she could…she could love him. If she ever fell for him, she knew she’d never be able to unlove him. She wouldn’t want to and that…that felt oddly comforting. For once, she was too tired to listen to her mind that preferred to set the world on fire rather than care for him.

As her eyes closed and her face relaxed, he stayed awake. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced the warm feeling spreading in his chest as she fell asleep.

“I’d burn this world for you.”

=============================

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PART 7

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #shadown and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander kirigan #general kirigan x reader

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lillianastras · 4 years ago

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“Hit Me With Your Best Shot” -- The Darkling x Reader

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader (no surprise here)

Warnings: none, I think

Summary: The Darkling and his second spar in the morning, after he starts to doubt her abilities have worsened over time.

A/N: I feel so great that I actually used my own experience in martial arts for writing this. Also, I’m so empowered by all the great feedback I’m getting from you guys. If anyone has requests, please send those my way!

“Rule number one,” he says, “Only take a break after saying you need a break. Otherwise I won’t know and will wipe the ground with you.” Her eyebrows shoot up and he has to fight a smile, glad he caused the reaction. “Rule number two,” he continues, hands behind his back, his wrists wrapped in cloths, to numb the harshness of his blows. “No Small Science. Whatever you do to me, you do it with your own two hands.” “That was just plain filthy.”

This time Aleksander grits his teeth, not appreciating the interruption. She is standing in the middle of the training grounds, arms crossed in front of her chest, the same irritated expression on her face since she had woken up. He could tell she was looking around, looking for an opportunity, an excuse to leave. Yet, there is little chance that anyone else is up this early, except by the pair of guards by the gate.

“The Drüsskele attacks are getting more aggressive than ever,” he hisses , trying his best not to raise his voice at her. “You need to know how to defend yourself when they hold your hands apart.” It’s not happening again, he thinks. The years have passed, but even time didn’t manage to blur the memory of Luda bleeding out on the ground. “I know how to defend myself!” She hisses back, and the Darkling gives her a cold stare.

“Ivan said he managed to tackle you to the ground several times yesterday.”

Her lips curl in disdain, but not for Ivan, he knows. She likes the Heartrender probably as much as he does, which came as a surprise at the start. He is rude and harsh, but even he manages to crack the occasional smile to two in her presence. That’s just how she is.

No, he thinks, the grimace just proves the truth in his words. Her skills had deteriorated, and she needs to get herself together. For her own good.

“Ivan is bigger than me,” she mumbles, but her eyes are staring at the ground. Even she realises this is a poor excuse, if any excuse at all.

“They are always going to be bigger than you. And I might not be there to have your back at all times.” It might not matter, he thinks bitterly, and his hands ball into fists, even if I am.

“Alright.” The easy agreement comes as a surprise, although easy might be an understatement. She gave her best efforts to keep him in bed this morning with gentle caresses, suggestive whispers and kisses down his neck. But still, he had dragged her outside as quickly as he could and she was sour ever since. “Let’s see if you get to wipe the ground with me.” She adds and he knows he managed to annoy her.

She takes her battle stance, her guard up and the Darkling sighs, eyes turning to look around. The sun is starting to rise higher in the sky and he realises he has little time left, just because no, Aleksander, you cannot ruin my reputation by throwing me around in front of everyone. Soon, people would start waking up, ready to start the day and they would have to leave training for tomorrow, when he would have to bring himself to say no to her advances again and… No. They have to start today.

She raises her eyebrow at him, challenge barely veiled, and he takes a deep breath, letting the thrill of the upcoming fight wash over him.

His first punch is not that fast, he knows, and she manages to dodge it with ease. Her elbow slams in his chest in return and was most probably going do force the air from his lungs if he hadn’t tensed. He is forced a step back. When he looks at her, there’s a small cold smirk growing on her face. She isn’t that out of practise after all. The Darkling squints his eyes and starts to pay more attention.

This time she doesn’t wait for him to charge, and when she aims her foot for between his legs, he knows he had touched a nerve. He blocks the kick with his forearm, but he doesn’t bother stop the grin that is slowly stretching on his face. Quick as a cat, he closes the distance between them, taking a tight hold of her wrists, their faces so close she could head-butt him in the nose if she wanted to.

“Is that why you’re so irritable all morning,” he asks, letting out a quiet grunt when she stomps on his foot, but he doesn’t let go. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with you?” This time he manages to move his foot in time and she groans as she misses. “For real?”

“No,” she answers quickly, too quickly, and he grins even wider, because her reaction is so petty, that he can’t really help himself. “You’re putting way too much faith in your ability to —”

He doesn’t let her finish and puts his foot behind hers, giving her a harsh push. She looses her balance and falls ass first on the muddy ground, shock written on her beautiful face.

He grins down at her, reaching out a hand to help her up. She finally comes back to her senses and looks around, her pants and shirt far from clean, mud covering her hands. She grits her teeth and whispers something under her breath, and Aleksander recognises Ivan’s name, followed by a string of curses. She then glares up at him and stands up on her own, ignoring his open hand.

“Again,” she demands, squinting her eyes against the reddish strays of the morning sun. The Darkling attacks again, this time not holding back as much as the first time.

He doesn’t realise how much time passes, punches delivered and blocked from both of them, until they are both panting messes, sweat dripping from their foreheads and sticking strands of hair to their skin. Aleksander allowed himself a moment of distraction, glancing around the training grounds. The palace was slowly coming back to life, voices heard from inside and the occasional kefta-clad figure running around the place.

“Scared someone will see that you’re getting your ass kicked?” Her guard is up and he can’t see the shit-eating grin that is plastered on her face, but he can practically hear it. It’s amazing what an hour of good sparring can do for one’s mood.

“You wish,” he calls back. “Final round?”

“I thought you’ll never ask.”

A smile creeps its way on the Darkling’s face. He takes slow, careful steps to the side, circling her, and her eyes follow him, not even blinking. Yet she is too focused on his movements that she doesn’t notice him close the distance at all. Just like he intends.

She is so surprised by the sudden attack, that she barely fights back when he grabs her wrist and gives her a harsh tug. He bends it behind her back in a swift motion, enough to trap it between his body and hers.

His free hand goes straight for her throat, fully pressing her back against him.

She tries to wriggle out of his grasp, but he presses her forearm slightly upwards and she hisses in pain, giving the hand that is wrapped around her throat a few quick taps, to let him know she surrenders. He stops the pressure on her arm, but doesn’t let go just yet. He leans in, his breath tickling her ear. “Not too bad,” he whispers, and he has to remind himself that they are out in public, “but you still have much to learn.”

She finally releases her, and grins when she turns around and her eyes are a little hazy. She takes a deep breath and when her gaze finds his, she shakes her head at his smirk, her hand rubbing her wrist to dissolve any pain.

“Careful General,” she lowers her voice to a whisper and theatrically looks around, as if to make sure no one is listening. “Someone might actually see you smile.” She sighs. “Can we call this a draw?”

He outright laughs at her audacity. “A draw? You didn’t win even one round!”

“I disagree.” She shakes her head and gives him a cocky raise of her eyebrow and a wave of her hand.“Plus that last one was hardly fair.”

His gaze hardens. Even though the last round really was more playful than aggressive, he had managed to disarm her and have the upper hand after all. If it wasn’t his hand around her throat, she’d be dead. She needed the practice.

As though she reads his mind, she rolls her eyes. “I won’t admit that you were right.”

He snorts a humourless laugh. He doesn’t really expect her to. “But we continue tomorrow.” It’s neither a request, nor a question. It’s an order from a General to his warrior.

She sighs and he knows she’s about to murmur some complaint. Shockingly, gives in with a shake of her head and after a long observation of her clothes, ruined from the mud, she mutters a quiet. “You’re the boss.”

He grins. “I’m the boss.”

#shadow and bone #sab #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #soc #ben barnes #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes fanfiction

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cottondo · 2 years ago

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USUK angst |

Hope y’all enjoy 💙

SHORT STORY // Independence Day

It was a particularly drizzly day in the streets of England. The sky was quite grey, and the streets were flooding with rainfall.

Arthur hadn’t seemed to mind that, though. He knew just how much his country liked to rain, and he was quite fond of it, really. It seemed to place a sense of calm over him. He would sit with a warm cup of tea, and read from his favorite book on days like today.

Although, today was a bit different than what his usual schedule called for.

His American ‘friend’ Amelia had invited herself over for the day. The Brit wasn’t exactly sure why, but he accepted it nonetheless. She spoke somewhere along the lines of having to talk to him about something . . he wasn’t sure. The phone call lasted maybe a minuet, and as usual, she was obnoxiously loud into the speaker. The British nation could barely understand a word of whatever mumbo jumbo the American spoke of.

Arthur had just taken his kettle off the stovetop and poured himself a warm cuppa. The coffee pot that was collecting dust sat at the edge of his countertop, plugged in and brewing up a mug of coffee for Amelia, once she arrived. She had bought it for him a while back in attempt to get him to drink more coffee. Or, rather, it was there for emergency visits such as these when the girl wanted to drink some when over at his house.

Maybe she had boy problems again and wanted to rant to someone about it.

Arthur wasn’t the one she would want to hear from if that were the case. He’d usually give her the right piece of mind, and it was all things she didn’t want to hear. So, then they’d argue over it.

A simple routine the Brit had gotten sick of over time. They just didn’t see eye to eye . . Maybe that was why she wanted her independence from him so badly.

The mere thought made him want to vomit.

Sure, he still liked her. Maybe in different ways than before. For reasons he wasn’t quite sure of why. It was odd, and he’d never admit it out loud to himself, or anyone else. He barely had wanted to admit it to himself in his own head.

Arthur sat in the living room awaiting her. Soon, he heard the front door open, and loud shouting followed. The door slammed behind her.

Oh boy. What was she on about now?

Amelia had entered the room with an irritated pout on her face. It had been an unbelievably irritating day, to say the least.

‘Amelia, do this— Amelia, go answer that phone call— AMELIA, GO BRING ME MY LUNCH, AND FINISH THIS CONFERENCE CALL, NOW!’ .

She had enough of her boss for one day. He wouldn’t leave her alone ! She needed somebody to vent to about it, and though Arthur was far from her list of people she wanted to run to, everybody else had been busy.

Francis was off doing something with Antonio today, Matthew wasn’t even a thought— Yào wasn’t that close with Amelia; and she was pretty sure that Ivan had a death threat for her . . so that left Arthur.

“Dude! You won’t even believe what my day has been like! I have so much to say, I don’t even know where to start.” She yelled into the house. Amelia wasn’t exactly sure where the Brit was, but she knew he was around. Probably sitting in his chair with a cup of tea in his hand like usual. That boring bastard. He was so predictable.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee entered her nose. The American rushed into the kitchen, the one she knew her way around all too well, and continued on with her rantings.

“I can hardly wait to hear.” She heard Arthur call from the family room. The same hints of sarcasm tracing his words. She ignored it. “So, first of all,” she rolled her eyes, throwing in the bits of sugar and cream into her coffee. As she snatched her cup, she made her way into the living room. “My boss has been hounding me all day. I felt like his damn dog! He had been barking orders to me since I went into office this morning!”

Arthur leaned his temple into his knuckles, elbow propped up on the arm of the chair. He could hardly wait to hear all of this on such a calm, quiet day.

He didn’t care about listening to her rants about her job as a country. If she stayed by his side instead of deciding to become independent, he’d have been able to handle these things for her. Maybe life could be easier, and the girl wouldn’t have to be put under such stresses.

“What happened this time, dearest.” He spoke with narrowed eyes, another sarcastic word coming into play.

Amelia caught the attitude and glared back. “What didn’t happen.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she sat down on the love seat.

“Second of all, I get into the office because he called me in. He tells me I need to start showing up even earlier than I do. And mind you, I go in at five A.M every morning.” She begins her rantings, earning more of the Brits attention. Her venting had started to capture him.

It almost seemed more amusing listening to her bunches of misfortunes than reading one of his favorite books, or watching a show. Amelia had seemed to live a very lively, busy life most of her days. Arthur couldn’t relate to that much.

Other than arguing with the other countries, or playing with his cat on the sullen days of the week, the Englishman hadn’t had many people to hang out with. On days his brothers would come to visit, it mostly felt like torture. He’d rather be drunk in an alleyway than deal with those nuts he’s forced to call family.

Then, something inside Arthur tweaked:

“Maybe you shouldn’t have become independent then.” He crosses his leg over the other, and grabbed a cloth from his chest pocket.

It was true, if she hadn’t claimed herself independent, none of these things would be happening, and life could be much more simple for her; in his eyes, anyway. Arthur could have done the things for her instead.

Here it was— that sickening feeling he’d get, like when it was her birthday.

Arthur coughed into the hand that held the towel, and he had unintentionally spit up blood. A thing that started happening over time since she had split from him.

Amelia’s face had turned from anger to guilt in a matter of seconds as she saw the male looking ill. She still wasn’t too sure why he had gotten like that over the bitter topic. And perhaps she’d never know. Amelia was too afraid to ask why he’d get that way.

“Can you just listen to me for once without starting some stupid argument?” Amelia furrowed her brows at him. She had enough guilt inside of her as it was, she didn’t want to be brought up with these painful memories.

It felt hard to suppress on certain days like rainy ones such as these;

The way the rain had hit the ground that day, surrounding the deflated Brit. The way he broke down to his knees whilst sobbing into his hands. Amelia didn’t know how to feel about those memories. She felt horrible for making him feel the way he felt, but she also felt horrible being stuck under his belt for everything. It was her time to finally have a day and make rules of her own.

She saw how well that all turned out for her . .

“It’s not like I wanted this.” She huffed, looking away. “Seeing you like that, I mean.” The blonde hated seeing him sick. It only happened at mentioning this specific topic— especially on her birthday. That day was the worst of the year. He’d come stumbling up to her ready to throw up, or pass out from weakness. Or there were times he be too drunk to function out words, ending in a depressing attempt to cry for her to come back to him.

Amelia couldn’t help but to feel guilty for the way his body would react to such things. It was her fault, after all. She split from him. And what had been the worst part of all . . she began to realize her true feelings of guilt weren’t just guilt.

There were feelings of some type of romantic emotion that began to grow throughout the last few recent years.

It felt a little selfish of her, but a part of her almost wanted him. Amelia didn’t know why she felt this way— it was more like an unexpected crush that happened over time. Sure, Amelia felt a bit wrong for feeling such things towards the Brit, but she couldn’t seem to help it after a while of coming to terms with it. Maybe this was the reason she was never around as much anymore.

Would she ever say that she felt like that to him? Hm- probably not. And even if the subject were to come up at any random time, she’d probably still try and deny it.

Amelia felt embarrassed.

Not because she grew feelings for HIM; it wasn’t anything against Arthur. She felt more as if he were to find out, he’d make fun of her for it. The American didn’t know why she felt like he’d say such things, but Amelia knew something would probably go wrong.

She’d never live it down.

Maybe he thought it was wrong too. But, after all, all of them were immortal, and she hadn’t had many others to choose from. Nobody had a history like these two did. Francis was certainly out of the question; they had gotten along well, but Amelia felt a bit weirded out around him some days.

All of the other countries just weren’t the same. And being with a human was just too painful. Having to watch them grow without her growing old as well, then just one day . . they were gone.

Amelia was terrified of what Arthur could say to her about it. Arthur probably didn’t even care about her as much as he says he does. Amelia figured he boasted about her, or took her side defensively just for looks. The American wasn’t sure anymore. Her mind felt heaps of emotion and didn’t know what to do with it all. So like always, she would slap on a big smile and be obnoxious for everyone else.

“Well,” the Brit scoffed, wiping his mouth with a sudden embarrassment. “You sure seemed like you’d been planning it for quite some time.” He felt the same bitterness in his chest he had felt the day it happened. It was as if his entire world came crashing down on him all over again.

“Look, dude, I don’t want to get into this.” Amelia rested her legs up on the couch and set down her mug of coffee. She looked rather tired, the Englishman thought to himself.

Maybe she wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit today either.

“All I’m saying, is that I’d be able to help, but you don’t want that.” Arthur shrugged. Another coughing fit happened, and he spit into the bloody handkerchief. Discarding it, he grabbed a new one from his other pocket, tightly gripping it with anxiety. He saw the furrowed browed look she gave him.

“I can do things on my own. It’s not that I don’t want your help, I just want you to listen to me! But you still can’t— even now.” Amelia found herself crossing her arms over her chest. It guarded her from his negative energies.

“I listen! I have to get stuck listening to your venting rampages even if I have no say in the bloody matter! You come in unannounced, then wreck the place.” Arthur grit his teeth, leaning forward with annoyance in his seat.

“Wow. I’m sorry! God forbid I come to you when I need somebody. Why do I bother giving your lonely ass attention?” Amelia frowned. “I thought you were supposed to be someone I could trust. I guess I should have figured that out from the beginning.” Amelia barked back, brow clearly creased with frustration.

“This isn’t how I wanted us to be.” She let out a heavy sigh.

Arthur froze. He desperately wanted to scream at her. But something told him not to.

“I—“ he paused, mind drifting away into nothingness. No words that could come out would sound right. So maybe he shouldn’t even speak at all. Amelia obviously wanted to say more, but it seemed like she held back too.

She wasn’t looking for a fight, she was looking to be honest. And maybe it was a wake up call for Arthur.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up,” he sighed out.

Amelia didn’t know why, but she felt like crying. Maybe it was all of the stress throughout the day finally getting to her. Today had been a horrible day, then to conclude it, Arthur made it worse. She just wanted one person to listen to her venting without being interrupted or chewed at.

Her eyes became glossy as she desperately reached for her warm mug. It comforted the tips of her fingers and she sipped on it carefully. Arthur had noticed her unusually silent body.

He wondered what it was that made her go so quiet. She was always looking to be right. So, why wasn’t she trying to be?

The silence wasn’t comforting or peaceful anymore. It was awkward and stiff. The air was thick, with a tension he wasn’t fond of.

“Amelia, I—”

The American felt tears and emotions trying to climb up the back of her throat. Her voice began to shake as she would try to speak. “Can I just talk about my day?”

Not with her usual loud, cheery voice had she spoke. It had sounded torn down, and beaten. She was such a strong girl, to Arthur it seemed like there was almost nothing that she couldn’t do. So, things must have really been rough if she wasn’t able to compose herself.

The Englishman didn’t even remember the last time he had seen her cry. It was such a long time ago, he’d probably be convinced she never cried. Amelia was always as happy as she could be.

He wished to feel like that too.

“Why doesn’t anybody ever want to listen to me lately? All I want is to just,” her voice wobbled and shook. She inhaled and exhaled softly, trying to regain her composure. “be heard. Like, man, is that so freakin’ hard?” The soft fake laugh effortlessly escaped her lips in a sarcastic manor. She felt herself sink into the couch with the mug gripped tightly in her hands.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur felt a sort of guilt creeping up his spine. He didn’t mean to make her feel bad . . but arguing was just so much easier. After all, he was in the right, here.

“Why don’t you start over . . You said something about having to go in earlier, right?” He furrowed his brows.

Amelia nodded, sitting with her legs criss crossed, sniffling her nose a bit.

“Uhm, yeah. So,” her mind wandered. It all led up to all the emotions she and Arthur had been suppressing for years. Something they refused to talk about. But it needed to be spoken about. Things needed to be cleared up.

“I don’t know. Things just weren’t working out for me today. It felt like everything has just been going wrong.” She let out a heavy sigh. Arthur felt his face falter between her expressions.

Something about seeing Amelia look so down really bothered something inside of him. He wasn’t sure if it was the past him trying to dig himself up and protect her, or if it were because he just truly cared for her.

“I’m really sorry.” Her voice cracked, and she set down her mug. “Dude, I don’t want things to be this way anymore. I can’t handle anything on my own lately. It’s so hard.” Tears began to weld up in Amelia’s eyes, and just as she tried to hold them back, she couldn’t anymore. A few streamed down her face and she knew that was it.

The american didn’t want to show that sign of weakness in front of the Brit, but it happened. It was too late now.

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like everything I’m doing is wrong, according to my Boss.” She shrugged, “He doesn’t respect me anymore. Britain— a-am I doing something wrong? Am I really not that great of a leader,” she began to babble on through her thoughts.

Arthur sat straight in his chair and stared wide eyed. Was this another one of her tricks? She would fake being upset in order to get something out of people quite often— but this . . he wasn’t too sure.

“Amelia, don’t be silly.” He chuckled, looking away. “You’re not fooling me with this whole thing again.” His smirk quickly faded once she looked up at him with a glare. “What the hell, dude! I’m not joking around!” She stood, face red with embarrassment. “You know what, I’m out.”

Arthur wished he could take back what he said.

Ugh, what an idiot. Why did he have to say that?

He stood forward and grabbed her wrist, stopping her from going anywhere. She looked down and tried to yank it back. “Let go of me.” She growled.

Unfortunately, the Brit was stronger.

He pulled her to sit on the couch beside him and he sighed. “Amelia, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were being serious.”

Tears began streaming down her face once again, alerting Arthur.

“Why would I be joking about something like this?” She snared.

“You cry almost all the time to make me feel bad for you, twat!” He glared back at her. He kept his soft grip on her arm, not allowing her to move anywhere. Amelia snuck her knees to her chest and she looked away with a heavy sigh.

“You’re an asshole.”

Britain smirked under his breath. “I know.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Now, come now. What’s with all of this crying? You’re a great leader. I know I may not say it often, or nearly at all— but . . you do a great job at making your country stabile.” He huffed, removing his grip from her.

Amelia was surprised to hear him say that.

Was he serious?

“Really?” Her voice included hope.

“Yes, you twit. Of course.” The blond male felt his face feel a slight bit of heat. “And although it still hurts for me to say it, but . . you gaining your own independence was probably for the best.” He choked down the vile pain crawling up his throat. “You’ve made a great place. Look at all of the amazing things you’ve done!” He smiles.

Amelia didn’t know what to say. She wanted to smile at him, but it was still hard. A part of her thought he was only saying that to make her feel better. He didn’t -really- mean it.

“I don’t know,” she sighs out, “I don’t feel like I’ve done enough good.” Amelia struggled to get those words out. She hated feeling down about herself. Amelia was supposed to be the confident one!

“Nonsense.” Arthur tapped her shoulder. He would try to offer her another smile, but it seemed hard to do as well. “You just have a very . .” Pausing, his brain searched for the right word, “different, way of doing things, is all.” He pressured a smile to his face.

Amelia peeked up at him from being buried into her arms atop her knees. “I like to add style to my work.” She sniveled.

Arthur held back an insult that came to mind, and instead, rolled his eyes. He then cleared his throat.

Amelia had glanced him over carefully. Her heart had been pounding inside her chest. Was now the wrong time to be feeling this way towards him?

All she wanted to do right now was kiss that smug look off his face.

The girl cringed at herself and gripped her own arms tightly. “Thank you.” Amelia spoke softly.

Arthur nodded, sensing a sort of odd tension between him and the girl. Was it wrong to have been liking Amelia the way he had grown to like her over the past year?

He wasn’t sure anymore.

“Sure, whatever.” He responded rather cold. He didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but it did.

Amelia sighed softly, collecting her thoughts at hand. “England,” she spoke carefully, earning his attention. He furrowed a brow down at the sound of his country name. “I’m sorry.”

Now he was just confused. What was she on about now?

“For what?”

“I know about your illness. I know it’s because of me,” her head keeps buried into her arms. She stares with widened eyes down at the couch beneath her.

“And I’m so sorry.”

Arthur coughed into his sleeve, narrowing his vision to her again. He was at a loss for words. What was he even supposed to say? That it was okay? It wasn’t.

He didn’t blame her for him feeling this way, but it certainly wasn’t a fun thing to have happen.

“It’s really not so terrible,” Arthur lied, in hopes to make her feel somewhat better on this horrid day of today.

“Don’t lie to me.” She lifted her head to view him over. “I know how bad you get.”

Her eyes sunk into his soul.

He looked down, a face full of guilt. He seemed more guilty of what he was going to say next, “Maybe if you didn’t leave me,” His voice began to rock. He sounded painfully hurt. “Separating yourself from me. Taking out all of my men,” his body leaned back into the couch, earning her full attention.

“I needed you. I wanted you by my side, Amelia!” He exclaimed painfully.

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

Arthur felt something cold grab his hand. It was Amelia’s. She gripped it tighter, bringing it to her chest. The girl kept her knees crunched at her chest, and she practically cradled his hand.

“Why couldn’t you have just stayed? Instead of having to have things your way.”

“Hurting you wasn’t really my intention. But, you also hurt me.” She mumbled.

Arthur felt frozen, stuck in time. He hadn’t felt her like that before. She felt broken, hurt. Yet, comforting, in a melancholy sort of way.

“You pushed too hard on me. Always judging me,” her brows furrowed at the wall ahead as memories from those days filled her mind. “You never liked me for me. You never let me be me.” Her head turned to look at him.

Arthur was just as guilty. He hated that feeling. It filled his chest with dread. He couldn’t imagine how that must have felt for her. Why did he try so hard to make her seem perfect? She was already far beyond that.

“I tried making you into something you’re not. I tried making you me.” He sighed out. “I’m sorry, too.” With his taken hand, he held onto her hand tighter.

Using his free hand, Arthur coughed into the stained cloth, spitting out slight bits of blood.

“Ugh,” the Brit groaned out sourly, “bloody hell.”

Amelia had tears dripping down her cheeks again. She felt so . . confused. She was mad, yet, horrified with guilt.

“It’s okay.” She mumbled. “I forgive you.”

He looked at her with confusion. “You do?”

She nodded gently. “How could I not,” a soft sigh escaped from her. “You’re a tough one to get out of mind.”

Arthur was . . confused. What did she mean by that? Were his thoughts just twisting her words into something greater, or was she saying what he thought she meant?

“I am rather amazing.” He tried to give her a smirk in hopes it would lighten up her flow of tears. It seemed to work, only briefly, before her weakened smile was returned with a frown.

“Britain, I don’t want us to fight anymore. Can we just, like, be cool, dude?” She offered him in hopes he’d respond.

Arthur thought it over in his head. He wanted that. No more fighting. No more bickering between the two of them like spoiled children. He would have to be there for her, just like he always promised he would be.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I’d like that, very much.”

#aph usuk #hetalia usuk #hetalia world twinkle #hetalia 2021 #hetalia 2022 #aph hetalia #aph america #aph england #arthur kirkland #alfred jones #hetalia world stars #hetalia #hetalia angst

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 137

Trying to figure out Author’s notes is hard.... Sometimes I just don’t have anything pithy to say, or have too much to say and don’t know where to put it all.

Obviously I am an overthinker.

So, for the sake of everyone reading: Let’s cut to the Shoutouts!

The obvious first: @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @anotherusrname, and @charlylimph-blog! I love all of you, you are the best.

Special mentions to: @zommbiebro bc I miss you and hope you’re okay. @nekohuntslight for being the OG person to message me about liking the story (yes, Bael, this is the dirty secret behind why I thought you lived in Australia when we first started talking.... shhhhhh). And alllllll the binge readers who blow up my inbox every day, Iloveyousomuchyoudon’tunderstand. Very much adore all of you, you have no idea how serious I am being right now. I need to go through and make one post just screaming all your names to the universe.

Tyche brought drinks and snacks from my kitchen before flopping on the couch in my quarters. The guys were at work, along with Antoine, but my office was closed down for the day. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” she asked.

“Vati and Hannah have everything planned to the smallest detail,” I shrugged. “They’ve already coordinated with Xio and Evan for all the crowd control and monitoring shifts, and the murals are going up today.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware of the logistics stuff. I literally handle all the staffing for the humans on the Ark, and Antoine was also part of the crowd control conversations.”

“Then why did you ask?” I laughed, grabbing a cracker and carefully stacking cheese and other toppings on it.

Before I could get it to my mouth, she snatched it and held it out of my reach. “Because I’m asking how you feel. You’re only attending as… well, an attendee. No monitoring, no calling the shots, no working from the floor.”

She surrendered my cracker, but I found myself setting it down, appetite gone. “I’m okay - “

“Lie.” There was suddenly a finger levelled between my eyes like a gun. Just as quickly, it was lowered, and my sister was tilting her head at me. “Come on. You know you can’t lie to me - I’ve known you longer than literally anyone on this ship except yourself.”

“Fine! It’s weird!” I admitted in frustration, standing to pace and shoving my hands through my hair. “My skin is crawling with anxiety, my hands are twitching to snatch up the files and nitpick everything to the smallest detail….”

“Except they locked you out.”

“Except they locked me out, yeah. But I’m pretty sure I could get Derek to let me in, which is why I’ve made a point to tell him not to, no matter how much I ask.” Dropping my hands, I sighed. “But if I ever want to leave this position, I have to let them do this.”

She shrugged and stole my cracker, this time chewing and swallowing before she responded. “You could have kept some involvement in it, you know.”

“Pfft, yeah right. I would have taken it over, and you know that.”

“Yep.”

“Then why even ask.” I dropped back down on the couch.

“‘Cause you needed to hear yourself say it,” she explained, nonchalant as ever, snagging an olive and watching me calmly.

I sat in silence, processing it. I hated when she outsmarted me like that, especially when she was right. “Can I at least eat first?”

She laughed and let it go, telling me how well the murals for the Festival were coming. I hadn’t even gotten to - allowed myself - to see the designs, and the more Tyche talked about them, the more I wanted to see them. By the time I finished my share of our snack, I decided to check out the progress.

We finally made our way to the decks where the Festival would take place, and I thought Tyche was going to die laughing at the way I gaped. The alcoves where the vendors would stage looked the same on first glance, but a closer look revealed very subtle shapes added that would give them a more savage, wild look in the right lighting. Metal sconces had been added to hold what looked like torches, but with special light emitters to simulate open flame. As we walked further, swirls of color revealed themselves slowly, first in light, curling tendrils, but slowly sharpening and taking on a more angular shape, twisting together into phantasmal images that vanished as soon as you tried to focus on them.

“It’s like walking through a garden, or a rainforest, but when I turn my head, I’m in a city.”

“Right?” she laughed as we came around the final corner.

At this point, we were surrounded by this mural. Just up ahead, there was a messy head of black hair tied back with a green piece of cloth. Bare feet and arms show smears of paint, and overalls covered a tank top - that, or the cloth for the hair had formerly been sleeves, I couldn’t tell. One hand propped up on hips while the other hung down, holding a very familiar paint pen.

“Christ on a triscuit, Vati, this is incredible,” I gasped softly.

She turned and smirked at me over her shoulder. “Not yet, but it will be when I finish.”

“I mean, all of it. The sconces…”

“Those were Hannah and Ivan.” Parvati walked over and touched one with her finger tip, stroking it gently.

Tyche made an impressed noise. “I’m only a little shocked that he had enough time.”

“The materials are on loan from the engineering departments, and we wanted them to be rather rough in the finishing. It helped. Sophia, no matter how curious you are, please do not lick the walls.”

A giggle bubbled up through my chest. “The thought never crossed my mind. I was trying to put together all the flavor profiles here. It’s… a lot.”

“Forgive me if I focused more on color than how the walls would taste. I don’t generally cook, remember.”

I stared down a swirl of pomegranate, popcorn, and gochujang. The colors - blue, pink, and yellow, respectively - worked well together, but the thought of the flavors made my stomach churn. “I solemnly swear not to lick the walls,” I promised. “How much of this are you expecting to still be up by the third night?”

“We have a team that will specifically come touch up the mural in specific places the morning before the second day.”

Tyche turned toward me and away from her study of the art. “Also, you would be surprised how much paint is on the walls. It will take a lot for Else to eat it all, once they are allowed in the area.”

“Before you ask,” Parvati cut me off. “We just asked them nicely. Well, Sam and Derek did. They’ve become quite the ersatz diplomats to Else.”

“Anything left?”

“Hannah is putting the final touches on the curtains for the alcoves and the seating areas. She’ll have a team installing them tonight once I finish.”

It was clever, and explained why she was only touching up part of the mural halfway between now and the closing of the event. “You two have really put your stamp on it.”

“Feel better?” She held one hand up gesturing at the entire entire project, eyebrow arched to show me that she hadn’t been fooled for a moment.

I rubbed my neck, and glanced at her from underneath my eyelashes. “Busted, I guess.”

“That would imply that anyone had believed your charade,” she smirked.

Taking a deep breath, I looked around us again. “I honestly do. I could never have done all this. Holding on would have…”

“Kept you in a position you frankly hate,” Parvati interrupted gracefully. “It’s the same reason Sebastian went back to the Undine. He’s passionate about it, and it shows in the quality of his work.” When I gaped in insult, she held up a hand. “Not everyone can succeed through fear of failing and a determination that things be done right if they must be done at all.”

“Everyone talking about me needing to retire, like I’m old or something,” I joked, throwing my hands into the air. “Physically, I’m only thirty-five.”

Tyche nodded to concede my point. “What about the food? I haven’t seen a menu come out yet.”

The change in topic made Parvati’s face collapse. “What? It should have gone out yesterday…” She flicked open her datapad, which flickered from the overspray that covered it. Frantically scrolling, she groaned. “This was scheduled, why didn’t it send?”

“Did you check the date?” I asked calmly. “Specifically the year.”

“Three times, it’s scheduled for tomorrow,” she insisted. “Right here: May seventeenth, twenty-forty aw fuck….”

“At least you got the decade right,” I pointed out. “You wouldn’t believe how many scheduled emails I’ve tried to automatically send out for ten or fifteen years ago.”

She nodded and seemed to get her bearings back. “So, protocol for this is… just send it right now and apologize for the late notification, don’t try to make excuses or explain?”

“Exactly. They won’t care why, they’ll just be excited the list is out.”

With a couple quick gestures, she sent the email and dismissed her datapad. “Okay, that was the last thing, then.” Turning back toward the wall she was working on before, she waved to us over her shoulder. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I really do need to finish this up. Thank you for coming to see everything… it was oddly reassuring to have both of you give us your stamp of approval before the Festival instead of making us wait until after.”

“For the record, you two have always had my stamp of approval, or I wouldn’t have tried so hard to keep my nose out of it.” I knew she couldn’t see me, but I still smiled. “We’ll catch up with you after the Food Festival. Remember: both of you need to plan on taking the day off afterwards. I’m serious. Have your unofficial advisors drop in and chat about everything, that’s fine. But no actual work, and I won’t let either of you see the survey results until the second day after. So rest.”

“Got it, boss lady. Have a good night!”

Tyche and I turned and headed back to my quarters. We remained silent as we took in all the preparations that had been done, waving to the handful of vendors who were bringing their supplies in already. Once we were back in normal corridors, the silence broke almost immediately.

“I think they’ve got this,” Tyche suggested nonchalantly.

“Oh, I know they do.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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beeexx · 4 years ago

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Part 2 of snippets from Ivan and Fedyor’s season 1 pov. Home is where the heart is.

Loving in a time of war. Read part 1 here.

Ivan’s slept too little to be awake at this hour. It’s barely morning, the sun is just beginning to paint the sky, but the curtains haven’t been drawn properly and light dances off Fedyor’s sleeping face. They’ve moved during the night, Ivan is facing the door, his back to Fedyor, who has snuggled close, one hand wrapped over his waist and his face in Ivan’s neck, puffs of hot air tickling his skin at the steady rise and fall of his chest. Ivan’s lips twitch into a small smile as he carefully shifts out of Fedyor’s grip and gently places his arm back on the soft silk sheets. He scrunches his face up, like he subconsciously knows Ivan’s out of reach and Ivan reaches out to smooth the wrinkles over, pushing some of his fringe away from his eyes. His hair is soft and unfixed like it’s not often these days and Ivan likes it the best this way, when Fedyor, almost always so open, is even more open, the armour even he wears around the palace is stripped back completely and just there for Ivan to see.

“It is too early even for you to be awake.” Fedyor murmurs sleepily and blinks his eyes open. He closes them almost immediately again, shielding them from the sun.

Ivan hums agreeably but considers going outside just the same. He feels restless and his mind is already whirring too much for him to be able to go back to sleep so a walk on the palace grounds when most people haven’t risen yet sounds somewhat appealing to him.

“It is too early for walks too.” Fedyor says like he can read Ivan’s mind and he blindly reaches for Ivan’s arm before he pulls, making Ivan huff. He goes willingly, leaning over him on his elbows.

“Stay.” Fedyor opens his eyes, brown with speckles of golden inside of them and Ivan hums.

“I guess I could be persuaded.”

Fedyor laughs and looks a little bit more awake immediately, attention fully on Ivan, expression a little smug suddenly. The morning light throws his sharp features into stunning relief and Ivan has yet to see a sight rival this man.

“Could you now?”

“Depends on the bargain.”

“You know me, I drive a very hard bargain.” Fedyor’s eyes are crinkled up adorably as he tries not to laugh at their ridiculousness but his hand comes to rest on Ivan’s sheek, fingers trailing over his morning scruff.

Ivan takes his hand in his and kisses each finger reverently and Fedyor’s breath hitches before he grabs Ivan’s face and pulls him down to kiss him roughly. Ivan cuckles against his lips but even when he does it he can feel excitement beginning to pool in his stomach and his toes curl as the kiss grow more heated, the promise of what is about to happen making him feel giddy.

…..

It’s later, in fact probably a lot later when Ivan gets up to get them some water. When he comes back he pushes aside the curtains completely, smiling as the warmth of the sun lingers on his face and takes in the view of the apple orchard that has finally started to bloom. He’s heard that it’s taken it longer than usual this year.

Fedyor stretches like a lazy cat, sheets tangled in his legs but he accepts the water with a small proud smirk and Ivan rolls his eyes at him.

“You want me to heal that?” He asks and pushes the pad of his thumb against the love bite on Fedyor’s throat. The kefta won’t be able to fully hide it, it will peek through if he moves his head, which Fedyor is very obviously aware of.

“No.” Fedyor says simply and Ivan nods. “Do you want me to heal those?” Eyes sparkle with mirth as his own hand trails further down to Ivan’s neckline, dotted with little marks from their earlier love making.

“No.” He mirrors Fedyor’s words and Fedyor smiles, pleased.

“Thought so.”

“We’re late.” Ivan comments but makes little indication he’s going to move away.

“Are we?” Fedyor drawls, aware that they are.

“Yes.”

“No one would notice.” Fedyor moves to sit behind him, placing a sloppy kiss on his shoulder blade.

Ivan snorts

“We both know that’s not true.” But he leans into Fedyor’s touch anyway, his eyes falling shut instantly.

“Well it’s not the first time we’ve been late…”

“No, I recall those other times vividly.” His tone is pointed and Fedyor chuckles against his skin.

“My love, I think you might need to get your head checked, because if you recall correctly you had a bit of a trouble streak back in the day.” It makes Ivan chuckle because while that might be true, Ivan always managed to get away with it back in the day, his reputation of orderly and seriousness serving him well. Less so for Fedyor who got the blame, he took it with a secret little smile and never corrected anyone so the assumptions that Fedyor was the one behind it stuck. He turns his head and angles it so he can capture Fedyor’s mouth in a hot searing kiss, never getting enough of him, not even after years together. He messes up Fedyor’s hair and he shifts slightly, Fedyor’s hand coming to rest on his chest again, responding to the way Ivan’s heart is beating under his palm.

“Good thing I am older and wiser and know not to be late anymore.” He says against Fedyor’s lip before he draws back. Fedyor’s huffs and opens his eyes, brown eyes dark before he frowns and plops down on the bed, frustrated. It makes Ivan laugh and Fedyor waves his hand in retaliation sending blood to the lower regions of Ivan’s body causing him to suck in a sharp breath. Fedyor giggles and Ivan sighs.

“Fine.” He agrees and climbs back into bed, his husband’s delighted face worth all the trouble they will get for this.

…..

Ivan doesn’t often get a moment to himself these days. He rarely has time off and even when he does have some time to do what he wants he’s rarely alone. But he’s more tired than he’s been letting on and a moment to himself is what he needs. He’s found a secluded spot on the palace grounds, by the lake but off from the common path and not visible if you don’t know where it is. There are birds singing in the treetops and the wind that keeps rustling the leaves is a comforting sound to his ears.

He exhales.

A twig snaps suddenly and Ivan freezes for a moment, hands raised the next, ready to defend himself against enemies. It turns out it’s just Zoya, who is clearly fuming as she walks angrily towards the clearing, sending leaves in all directions as she walks.

“I regret ever telling you about this place.” Ivan mutters. She stops, her furious expression slipping for a moment as she spots him before she scowls at him. If there was anyone in the little palace that could rival Ivan in scowling it would be Zoya. He ignores her in favour of closing his eyes, focusing on his breathing to get the moment of serenity back.

But Zoya seems to have other plans and the wind around them come back stronger and colder in a very unpleasant way as she keeps taking her anger out on the environment.

“If you don’t stop this right now I will burst a blood vessel in your brain.” He warns without opening his eyes and the wind abates around them. She stops using her powers to take out her anger, instead she stomps around and growls in frustration like a goddamned child. It is almost as annoying as her earlier tantrum.

“Saints, can you go have a tantrum somewhere else?” He snaps, his patience all but gone. She glares and kicks a rock before she saunters over and drops herself down unceremoniously onto the bench by his side.

“It was not an invitation for you to sit.” He grumbles but moves anyway to make more room for her.

“Good thing I don’t care what you think.” She snaps at him and he bites his twitching lips. Despite how extremely annoying Zoya can be Ivan likes her well enough from time to time.

They both sit quietly for a while and it’s peaceful enough that Ivan forgets she’s there for a moment. Until she groans again.

“Aren’t you going to ask what is wrong?”

“Do I look like I care?” She rolls her eyes.

“If you want sympathy go find someone else to bother.”

“I am realising it was a seriously grave mistake to find you of all people, I should have gone for Fedyor, at least he is sane enough to like me.”

“You will hear no arguments from me.”

She gives him an imperious look that Ivan ignores.

“What are you even doing here?” She asks instead.

“Trying to get some peace.”

“What, here?”

“Isn’t that the same reason you are here? To get away?”

“Maybe.”

“You are getting predictable Zoya.”

“It was this or shove Alina Starkov into the mud.”

That makes Ivan chuckle unexpectedly and Zoya smirks.

“Impressive restraint on your end.”

“Oh I’m nothing if not impressive.”

“She is not worth the trouble you’ll get in.” He offers her and she rolls her eyes.

“Says the one already in favour of the General.”

“I worked hard for that position.”

“So did I.”

“Well maybe you should start looking elsewhere for whatever it is that you want.” Her eyes narrow and the air vibrates between them in her fury.

“Maybe I should hurl you into the lake, that might make me feel better.”

“I’ll put you to sleep before you’ll even have the chance to move.” He doesn’t spare her a second glance, she’ll know the threat is real enough. She sighs before she grows silent, staring out onto the water, eyes distant.

“I worked hard to get where I am Ivan, every day I pushed myself harder to get stronger, better, faster and here she swoops in, all muddy and afraid and suddenly everyone loves her, I don’t get what everyone sees in her.” It’s a rare moment of vulnerability from her he’s not too used to seeing.

Zoya is younger than both him and Fedyor and Fedyor had taken to the angry girl immediately when she came to the palace. She had warmed fast to him, everyone did, but it had taken a nasty incident with some older Corporalki girls where Ivan had stepped in that had made him and Zoya friends. Ivan might be stubborn, hard working and grouchy at times but he did appreciate stubbornness and commitment which she clearly possessed. She averaged fast when she got here and that didn’t go unnoticed by some older students who didn’t appreciate it and had chosen her as an easy target to take out their failings on.

He had held his hand out to her where she was sitting against the wall, her face downcast as she wiped furiously at her eyes.

“I don’t want your help.” She had said, her voice steely.

“Good thing I’m not offering you help then.” He had answered her, just as curt, but his hand was still there between them and she had narrowed her eyes before she had let him help her up. She dusted off her kefta and Ivan had watched the smaller girl pull herself together, her pain masked behind a face of indifference. Fedyor would comfort her, offer up some great advice or something. He wasn’t Fedyor.

“I’d say to keep up what you’re doing at least, the best revenge is success.”

She had studied his face for a moment and he hadn’t smiled or really given any indication that he cared, but a small smile curled at her lips anyways.

“Terrible advice, I already know I am better than those girls.” That made him grin though.

“Doesn’t hurt to hear it every now and then.”

“No, it does not.” She said more somber. She didn’t thank him and he didn’t need it, but something did pass between them that made them understand one another better and the small stubborn girl that didn’t give up had carved out a place in his heart.

“Hope, that’s what they see.” He says, bringing himself back to the moment.

Zoya furrows her brows.

“It’s not something I can compete with.” She mumbles, a little sadly. Ivan sighs, his treacherous heart twinging in his chest.

“No, but maybe you shouldn’t.”

“It’s not my way to give up.”

“It’s wise to know which battles to fight and which to not.”

“I know which battles to fight.”

“Zoya…” He begins, clears his throat from the soft voice that has slipped through. He starts again. “Chasing after the General will do you no good.”

She narrows her eyes again.

“What would you know about chasing?”

That makes Ivan laugh and it catches Zoya completely off guard for a moment, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Did you just… laugh?”

“You said something very funny.”

“Saints, I can barely make you smile on a good day and now you’re suddenly laughing?”

“Do you often try to make me smile?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes at him before she averts them to hide what Ivan thinks might be a faint blush.

“Shut up.”

“Gladly, I would like to return to my peaceful moment.”

“Will you tell me about your history of chasing or shall I have go to Fedyor to get that information?”

“Fedyor would keep my secrets from you.” She rolls her eyes.

“He would…” She says after a while.

The birds have gone back to their twittering and he enjoys the sounds of the alive forest around him.

“You’re lucky to have him.” Her voice edges on wistful in its sadness as she interrupts the moment yet again.

“I am.” He admits because it is the truth.

“I would like you to tell me how you met.”

“That will never happen.”

She chuckles.

“I will get the story out of you one day Ivan, I just need to find the right bribing material.”

“That will take you a lifetime malen'kiy.” The old nickname slipping through.

She smiles brilliantly at him and Ivan offers one back in return.

…..

Ivan is in their room when Fedyor comes back, sitting down, in the process of shaving.

“I hear you let the sun summoner out of your sight today.” He comments, meeting Fedyor’s eyes in the mirror. His husband at least has the decency to look a little bit guilty before he shrugs and comes forward, wrapping his arms around Ivan’s shoulders.

“It wasn’t so serious. She just wanted to see the acrobats. Besides, Genya was with her at all times.”

“I see.” He drawls, unimpressed. Fedyor shakes his head, a little peeved.

“Love do you not remember being young? Wanting to be free, have some fun?” He raises a pointed eyebrow, voice a little stern and Ivan’s demeanor falters for a moment as a small little smile slips through at the memories.

“Oh I remember.”

“We used to get in so much trouble.” Fedyor giggles, his annoyance forgotten as he places a kiss on top of Ivan’s head.

“Yes and whose fault was that?”

“Oh I remember your trouble making streak darling.” Ivan grins and goes back to the task at hand, not admitting anything.

“She was fine you know.” Fedyor says after a while. Ivan grunts as a reply and Fedyor rolls his eyes, a little fondly.

“I think it did her some good too.”

“Well she should be focusing on practicing her powers rather than avoiding duties and having fun.”

“What a boring life it would be, to not have any fun.” Fedyor says and spins the chair Ivan is sitting in around before he graciously sits down in Ivan’s lap, plucking the shaver out of his hand.

“Some people could do with less fun.” He comments drily but lets Fedyor continue with the shaving.

“Some with more.”

Ivan huffs.

“She could have gotten in trouble, then all the preparations for the future would have been wasted.”

“Well I told her off if it makes you feel any better. I tried out my impression of you, worked wonders.” Fedyor’s eyes spark like they do when he’s proud of himself, the joy so contagious Ivan can’t bear to be disgruntled.

“Oh, that I am impressed by my dearest husband.” He is in fact a little proud. Fedyor grins.

“And, ah, I also think the General is quite fond of her, don’t you think?”

Ivan rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure she won’t even get in trouble for her little rebellious act, in fact I think he’s a little bit impressed by her.”

“I’m sure it’s not the only thing he’s impressed by.” Ivan mutters and Fedyor laughs.

“My my, is that jealousy I detect?”

“Don’t be stupid, I do not harbour any jealous feelings of the sun summoner, I am not Zoya for saint’s sake.” Fedyor only laughs harder and puts the shaver up to Ivan’t shin.

“No, it would be quite unlikely of you to feel jealous when it comes to women.”

“They are not my type.”

“Oh I’m well aware.” Fedyor smirks and Ivan thinks of pushing him off his lap but he doesn’t want to risk getting his throat cut so he tightens his arms around Fedyor instead and Fedyor smiles sweetly before he continues with a ridiculous precision and care he will only extend to Ivan.

“So, all done.” Fedyor says after a while and takes the towel from the sink, wiping his face clean.

“Good. Thank you.”

Ivan’s eyes travel to the newly arrived keftas hanging by the massive wardrobe and he can’t help but frown. Fedyor puts his finger on the scowl and smooths it over.

“No grimaces when there is a party happening.” He chides without any heat and Ivan’s eyes move over to his face instead.

“You only want to attend this party because of the sweets my love.”

“Ah there are going to be so many baked goods there.” Fedyor says excitedly.

“Only you will get this excited over the prospect of sweets.”

“That is because there is nothing quite in this world that can rival sweets.”

Ivan lifts an eyebrow making Fedyor laugh.

“I said quite.” He defends with a laugh and Ivan stands up, wrapping his arms around his husband's waist and places a kiss on his nose. Fedyor’s legs wrap around him in return and his arms come to rest around his neck.

“Come on, let’s get ready for your party then.” Ivan says with Fedyour’s laughter in his ears.

#shadow and bone #sab #shadow and bone fic #ivan #ivan shadow and bone #ivan x fedyor #fedyor kaminsky #fanfiction #my writings

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thedarklightwithinus · 5 years ago

Text

Soul For A Soul.

A/N; Been working on this one for a while now. Also, why do I write the sad shit?

Words; 3.4k

Pairings; Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Platonic!Reader.

GIF not mine.

"You stay safe and you make sure you're careful out there."

"We're going to collect a stone, Steve. There's not a lot that can go wrong."

"Anything could go wrong, Y/N."

"You listen to the Capsicle, Squirt." Tony said in passing.

"We don't have time to talk about this... I'll be safe and do what's right if you promise me you'll do the same. Deal?"

The light hit Steve Rogers face at such a beautiful angle as you looked up at him, taking in his features as though you had never done so before. You smiled watching as he raised a brow at you before he nodded, muttering out that he was happy with your deal.

Time travel. Never in a million years would you have thought you'd be minutes away from time traveling. As a little girl you had read stories about time travelling, watched films about it too. The world could say what they liked about Tony Stark. The words that labelled him was nothing compared to just how much of a genius he actually was. His mind truly was something else. Sure, you had a piece of that but Tony was a hero to you before he was to anyone else.

As you walked beside Steve to the podium that would be centre stage for the actual travelling, you couldn't help but twist your arms around, liking the feeling of the matching suit you all wore.

Quantum Suits, Tony and Bruce had called them. They were made of fabric that would protect you all from the Quantum realm you were minute from travelling through. Under the suits themselves were different uniforms depending on the person and who was going where.

You walked behind Nat, moving up onto the podium and standing on the outside, facing inwards. A large hand gripped yours as you grinned at Steve, finding it difficult to hold your excitement in. You were one of the fist people to partake in time travel and you'd be dammed if you tried to hide your excitement.

When everyone was in place, Steve spoke up. "Five years ago, we lost." He began, squeezing your hand gently. "All of us... We lost friends, we lost family, we lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each... No mistakes, no do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know, that doesn't mean we should know what to expect. Be carful, look out for each other. This is the fight of our life's."

"And we're gonna win." Tony added on.

"Whatever it takes." You whispered, raising a soft brow at Steve who nodded.

"Good luck."

You released Steve's hand, moving to slide across the platform in order to insure that you weren't touching anyone. You breathed out, intaking a fresh breath of air as Bruce moved away from the keyboard and back onto the platform. "Trackers engaged." He informed everyone, fiddling with the control panel on his arm.

"This is gonna be so cool." You squealed out, unable to contain your excitement as Scott agreed, looking far to happy to be among the first to partake in time travel as well. ”Tony, I know I’ve given you shit for many, many years but this is the coolest thing you’ve done for me."

The others chuckled, shaking their heads as the platform hummed to life and began to whirl, light filling up the air from the ground. A Helmet encased your head in nano-seconds as you looked around, taking in the faces of the team you were so proud of.

You looked down and watched as the floor began to open beneath your feet, an overwhelming surge of pressure filled every part of your body as it dragged you down.

A blink. That was all it took before you were filled with pressure once more and collapsed to the ground, breathing deeper than you ever had before. Your helmet retracted, giving you the fresh air you so desperately needed.

"Y/N, you good?" Rhodey asked, breathing deeper than he usually would himself.

"I'm... Fine." You muttered, allowing the man to help you to your feet. "We... Are legit in two thousand and fourteen right now." You gazed up at the sky in awe. "I wonder what I was doing right now."

"With Steve, fu-"

"Lets not finish that." Rhodey rolled his eyes.

Natasha snorted, watching while you raised a brow at her with a small head tilt. "Filthy." She muttered to you, laughing along when you did.

"I can still hear you both!" Rhodey all but shouted out as the two of you fell silent. "And do you mind, we're kind of busy over here."

"Can you hurry it up?" You whined. He didn't reply as he continued directing Nebula in lowering the Benatar safely to the ground.

The four of you, along with Rockets shrunken ship had been sent to the planet Morag which was located in the Andromeda galaxy. Nebula and Rhodey would be retrieving the power stone on the planet while you and Nat would be taking the Benatar to Vormir and collect the soul stone.

Once the ship was on solid ground and ready, you and Nat bid a farewell and good luck to Nebula and Rhodey and climbed aborted the Benatar.

With coordinates set for planet Vormir, the two of you set off for the soul stone.

”I’m telling you Nat, if I would've known we’d have to walk the length of a fucking planet and then climb the worlds biggest mountain, I would’ve went with Banner.” You huffed, ignoring Natasha as she laughed.

”Here.” The red head spoke, handing over her water bottle she had just drunk from as she took a few deep breaths. "Can't be to far, right? Nebula said to climb the tallest mountain. There can't be much further to go." She said, looking up and eyeing the arched structure that seemed to stop around fifteen feet above them.

You shrugged and took a few sips of the water she had offered, taking a small break from the long climb. The mountain in which you were steadily climbing was rocky and slippery which left little to no grip. On numerous occasions you had to stop yourself from falling.

The mountain itself was located almost as soon as you had entered the atmosphere. Nebula had said the tallest one which left little to no doubt to which one it was they had to climb as every other mountain was barely half the size.

"Come on, Y/N." Natasha sighed, looking like she had caught enough of her breath to carry on. "We're on the clock."

You nodded, capping the bottle and handing It back to her. With a deep intake of breath, you followed after her, mindful of the incline and the wetness of the rocks.

What felt to you like an hour but was closer to four minutes later, Nat came to a sudden stop which caused you to narrowly miss running into her back as you forced yourself to a stop, holding your hands out in order to balance yourself against the ground that threatened to send you tumbling all the way back down.

"Nat, what the he-" You cut yourself of with a foreign noise that slipped out before you could contain it as you took a look over Natasha's shoulder.

"Welcome." The dark, ghostly figure spoke, hovering above the ground in a patch of darkness. "Natasha. Daughter of Ivan. Y/N. Daughter of Howard."

"Who are you?" Natasha demanded rather than asked, raising her gun and pointing it at the figure while you stared in bewilderment.

"Consider me... A guide." He answered in the same tone, seemingly not threatened by Natasha's gun. "To you... And to all who seek the Soul Stone."

"Oh, good!" You exclaimed, moving around Natasha and raising a brow at the figure. "If you could just tell us where it is, we'll be on our way out of here in no time."

"Oh, my dear... If only-" He moved forward out of the darkness he was surrounded in. "It were that easy."

Silence.

You side-eyed Natasha, wondering if you were seeing the man clearly. When the smallest twitch in her eye caught your own, you knew she was seeing what you were seeing. You watched intently as he drifted over towards the edge of the cliff, darkness moving around him as he did so. You blamed your brother for what fell out of your mouth next. "Wow... What's up with your face? It looks like you've had a bad day with a juicer."

He seemed to ignore your words as her turned, setting his beady eyes on the two of you. "What you so desperately seek lies in front of you." Slower than you had moved before, you walked beside Nat to where he stood and took a look over the cliff edge. To slip and fall off would be a long drop. It was far, and all you could really make out was different shades of purpled. "As does what you fear." Yeah, It’s a really long drop.

"The stones down there." Natasha mumbled, loud enough for you to hear what she had said clearly.

You looked to Natasha who looked suddenly so upset with what he had told them. You eyes drifted over to the red face, raising a brow at the skull-like features he had. When he said nothing to indicate that he was lying, you huffed.

"The stones down there?" You all but whined out, rolling your eyes. "We spend how ever long climbing this stupid mountain and the stones been down there this whole time? That's what you're telling us right now, Skull face?"

"The stone is down there... For one of you." He answered, his cloak continuing to flow beneath where he hovered a few inches above the rocky ground. "For the other... In order to take the stone... You must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange... A soul for a soul."

"Well, shit." You muttered, sighing slightly as you tilted your head down at the ground.

Natasha moved back from the edge, locating a small log lick rock and taking a seat on it while you moved over to the left and slid down the rocky wall, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your hands.

"Cons and pros." You murmured to yourself. "Cons and pros."

Twenty-three minutes and sixteen seconds of silence passed by as the two of you sat on opposite ends of the mountain and though you tried not to, you found yourself thinking over your life.

Growing up a Stark had not been easy. You were always living in your fathers shadow, a man you could not remember as he had died when you were a baby. Your mother had also passed which left you in the less then capable hands of your brother, one Antony Stark. Being particularly young himself when your parents had died he was less then happy to spend his weekends looking after a kid rather than out partying like he had done before the two of you were orphaned.

You were forever thankful that Tony had stepped up, taught you everything you needed to know and more. You were who you were because of him and though you had never thanked him outright, you knew that deep down, he knew how grateful you were to him. Which gave you the nerve to feel the way you felt. It was simple to work out what Skull face was getting at. One of you would have to go over the cliff. If you could give Tony back the people the world had lost... Peter... It would all be worth it.

Steven Rogers was a different story, however. He would be heartbroken, he would hate you for a while but deep down, you knew he could never hate you. What he was loosing in love he was gaining in family. Bucky, Sam, Wanda... He would get his family back and while, sure, he'd loose you. He'd still have your love in his heart. He'd never be without it.

"Nat?" You called out, your voice travelling in the wind as she raised a brow, continuing to stare ahead. "How do we know he isn't lying?" You found yourself asking half-heartedly. You knew he wasn't lying. Why would he?

"I don't thin so, Y/N." She answered, her voice void of emotion. "He knew my father's name."

"He knew mine too?" You raised a brow. "What of it."

"I never knew my father." Nat admitted, looking over at you. "Thanos left this place with the stone... Without his daughter. That's not a coincidence."

"Whatever it takes." You whispered, remembering the three words you had said to Steve before you left. You stood up on shaky legs, moving slowly towards the middle of the cliff and eyed the purple and red sky.

"Whatever it takes." Natasha repeated, pushing herself up to come and stand beside you looking suddenly very solemn. "Y/N, if we don't get that stone... Billions of people stay dead."

"Mhm…" You muttered, tilting your head at the beauty that was the sky. "For being a planet of death... It's very pretty. I suppose we both know who it's gotta be then." You hummed, taking a deep breath in order to feel the freshness of the foreign air. You smiled, turning to look at Natasha who looked very solemn herself. You're eyes narrowed as you looked at her. "Yeah... I wasn't gonna say anything... But, I think we mean different people."

"I've thought it over... Look, for the last five years, I've been trying to do one thing. Get to right here." Natasha looked like what she was saying was gonna be final. "That's all it's been about. Bringing everybody back."

"You think either of us want to do this right now?"

"You're not. I am." Natasha said, turning to face you full on. "I'm saving your life. You've got people to get ba-"

"So do you!" You exclaimed, turning to face her as you seethed almost. "You're not copping out, Natasha. You have unfinished business to attend to."

"I'm not letting you do this, Stark."

"Okay." You whispered, smiling through the water that filled your eyes. "You win, Nat." You reached out with both hands, gripping her face and pulling her towards you. Her arms wrapped around your waist as yours slid down and over her shoulders. You turned your face, your trembling lips pressing against her temple as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Tell Steve and my brother I love them."

You felt the read head tense just as your left hand was encased in cold metal as the nano-tech covered your wrist as well. Just as she was about to pull away harshly, you pressed your hand flat against her back and sent a bolt of electricity through her. She stiffened on the spot as her legs gave out beneath her. Quicker than a blink, you had lowered her safely to the ground and spun on your feet, sprinting towards the edge of the cliff.

You were airborne for a split second as you went over the cliff. However, before you could feel the cold wind around you, your body crashed into the sharp rocks that were sticking out the side of the cliff as you hissed, yelling out in pain.

You're eyes shot up as you saw Natasha's red face, her eyes dripping tears you had hardly seen before as one fell to land on your cheek. Her hand gripped yours tightly as she lay flat on the cliff-top, stopping you from falling and further. "G-Give me y-your hand!" She stuttered out, her voice thick with emotion. "Give m-me your h-hand, Y/N Stark!"

"Nat, nat... Natasha!" You called out, stopping her from demanding that you grip her tightly as you let out a small sob. "Please! Let me go."

"Y-You can't t-take this c-chance away from me!" She shouted, openly sobbing for the first time in her life. "It's supposed t-to be m-me!"

"You go back there with the stone, you bring everyone back and you continue looking after the world. That's who you are and that's who you're going to be. They need you... Now let me go!" You shouted, not wanting to prolong the torture of dangling above your destiny.

"They need you more!" She screamed, trying to reach out further in order to get a better grip on you. "T-Tony and S-Steve, they'll n-never f-forgive you!"

"Then so be it." You whispered, raising your legs and placing them against the cliff wall. "Knowing I kept you alive is enough for me. I love you, Natasha. Save them." You squeezed your eyes closed, forced your legs off against the cliff and pulled your arm sharply out of her grasp.

Natasha Romanoff's scream filled your ears as it grew quieter and quieter. Your eyes opened on their own accord to see that you were falling. Your perception of time non-existent, everything slowed down until there was nothing, only you and the sky above, the sky that seemed to swallow you whole. Your hand reached out, kissing the sky as the coldness of the air bit at your exposed skin. Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence. Free in the air, you smiled, closed your eyes and surrendered yourself to the fate you knew was coming.

The world rushed by in a blur and you know the pain was coming. It goes by fast, yet slow, almost suspended. Then... Impact.

Natasha Romanoff collapsed to the ground, chocking out in almost hysterical breaths. Her eyesight was blurry, from the onslaught of tears or the bright lights that were dying down, she couldn't be entirely sure. She sobbed openly, her hand clenching the yellow stone she so desperately wanted to throw away.

She heard a few happy cheers go round at the fact they had succeeded in collecting the stones and travelling through time. She blocked the noise out, wanting to scream and shout at them. How dare they celebrate all they had gained when they had lost a part of them in doing so. It was then that she rationalised... They didn't know the loss. They had no clue.

They were yet to feel the pain she was feeling. As though someone had reached into her chest and ripped her heart out against her will. It was as she was in the middle of chocking on a particularly large wave of tears that someone finally took notice of the read head on the ground, trying to grip the floor as though she so desperately needed to anchor herself.

"Nat?" Someone called out.

She felt her suit retract around her as she shook her head, trying to contain her heartache that felt to much like she was dying.

"Nat?" Someone else called.

Natasha turned her right hand against the floor, her palm stuttering open and she glared down at the stone, watching as one of her tears fell to land on it.

"Nat?" It was Tony who had called her last, kneeling down as he gripped her shoulder. She could feel the way her hand shook from the small amount of contact. "Where's Y/N? Nat, where's my sister?" Natasha slowly lifted her head, her eyes focusing on Steve who stood with furrowed brows a few feet from them before she looked at Tony who seemed to, deep down, know where his sister was.

Nebula was the one to speak what had happened into the air as a series of shouts rang out. Thor was trying to justify that time travel worked and they had the stones so they could bring her back while Bruce was demanding to know why she had been allowed to go to Vormir. Steve had lowered himself to the ground, resting his head in his hands as his shoulder shook.

Tony Stark, big brother and guardian looked into Natasha's eyes once more and prayed for a miracle. "Where's my sister?"

"A soul for a soul." Natasha whispered.

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orangegreet · 3 years ago

Text

No Minor Miracles | Chapter 2

An Evening in Winter

The darkest evening in winter begs for just a sliver of light.

If he thought things would change for them following their late night miracle, Aleksander was sourly mistaken.

Months went by without contact.

The more angry he became about it, the more it confirmed that he was out of control.

Seeing her, being vulnerable to her, opened a floodgate. A torrent of warring emotions swirled around him so that he struggled to even name them properly before they shifted again.

Despite assertions made by Alina on prior occasions that these feelings created a more rewarding experience in life, this inability to distance himself from every nuance of emotion degraded his mental state.

Centuries of conquering every thought. Controlling every outcome. A puppeteer to countless Tsars with whole nations bent to his will—all to be undone by a slip of a woman who had barely existed for even three decades.

Alina, this one person to whom he was bound, body and soul, just happened to be so far outside of his grasp that he couldn’t name a single city she had passed through since the day she left Os Alta. For everything she knew about him, he couldn’t name a single one of her goals, objectives, accomplishments, or desires. It was humiliating.

She had promised he was one of her desires.

At least, this is what he clung to in the early days. Ruminating by the fire or letting his thoughts slip into this reassurance over another lonely meal or late in the night when he awoke without cause and stared out the window.

These were things he had never done before. Foreign and juvenile behaviors. Yet he allowed them to continue bringing him comfort. Allowed them freedom to permeate his day as he had let nothing else in several millennia.

Until the nagging doubt began to seep in.

Did she say exactly that she desired him?

It seemed burned into his brain at one time but some memories of that night which he previously savored began to disintegrate.

When they reformed, new perspectives propagated themselves like weeds in his recollections.

They drifted in to discolor formerly pleasant thoughts during an evening bath; late nights were spent hunched over a desk dissecting vaguely remembered words.

Madness stole over him at odd moments.

War council meetings were sometimes punctuated with abrupt surges of intensity which forced him to nail his hands to his sides lest he sic shadows into the throats of the King’s men.

An afternoon horse ride intended to invigorate and chase away all thought instead stamped his misgivings to the wall of his mind as decisively as hooves sunk into mud.

She had called him inevitable. Her Inevitable.

Inevitability did not exactly parallel desire.

Still, he refused to call to her. The one weakness he would not submit to again.

It was during these months following when the General discovered he’d grown a distinct bitterness toward his Heartrender as well.

It was the rancor in his own voice when he issued commands that tipped him off. Followed with a silent seething when the orders were carried out to perfection.

No accolades were awarded in the face of the exemplary service; eventually no words of gratitude expressed at all yet Ivan remained stoically indifferent.

Unfortunately this only fed the festering malice.

The Darkling persevered to tamp it down. The longer he was away from Alina, the more desperately he tried pull the armor back around himself. Only, to his increasing distress, the cracks in the facade would not be patched.

This, the General realized, was the source of his ire. Understanding came to him in the form of some sudden glaring prophecy that he could never have foretold.

With regret, he understood the advantage of having the most highly skilled Heartrender in the Second Army at his side, also meant employing a man who was privy to every betraying fault in the rhythms of the General’s chest.

His growing madness had physical tells and it would not do to have them known to anyone but himself. Every staccato, every irregularity, every tremor exposed his ever slipping control.

Ivan knew too much.

Initially, the Darkling resigned himself to killing his right hand. In his defense, he fully intended to do the deed himself—bequeathing the task to another would be dishonorable to the decades of otherwise impeccable service.

However multiple strategy sessions spent visualizing every step that would follow such a death led him back to the beginning to start again. A new tactic to try, a different scenario to explore.

Until he eventually determined there was no true gain for him in Ivan’s death.

The bitter reality of the situation was this: no one could be by his side except a Heartrender. And yet no other Heartrender had ever shown such aptitude for pain, control, precision and, ultimately, discretion.

No one could replace the man. His death could not be borne since it would bring no peace.

Any replacement to follow would be just as dialed in to the state of his or her General, but their loyalty was too great a variable to gamble.

And so he was left with one recourse.

“You asked for me, moy soverennyi?”

“Fedyor. Yes, enter.” The General stood from his desk, brushing past Ivan and coming around the War table.

“I have a new assignment for you.”

“I am glad to serve, General.”

“The Fjerdan outposts are in desperate need of strong leadership. The caliber of your performance in the Second Army is recommendation enough for me. You are being promoted to Major and sent to the front in Tsibeya at dawn.”

Fedyor’s eyes slipped past his General briefly to land on Ivan before snapping back and allowing a pleased smile in return.

“Thank you, General. I will make you proud.”

The General nodded his dismissal and waited until Feydor left the room to return to his desk.

The General sat at his desk.

Hours passed while he wrote letters to his commanders, instructions for individual missions, referenced maps and calculated coordinates. Ivan remained silently, dutifully at attention beside him. The lunch hour passed, neither man broke the silence.

For these hours, the General worked harder than he had in months at keeping his emotions in check, his blood running cool and breaths even. The sound of quill scratching on parchment, drawers opening and closing—he was determined these would be the only irregularities for these few hours.

No work was given to Ivan. He asked for no input from his Heartrender and let the hours pass essentially ignoring the man.

Ivan did not break.

Dinner came. Two meals sent up from the kitchens. The General ate without comment. His Lieutenant did not move.

“Food not to your liking, Ivan?” The attempt to keep his tone neutral was undermined by the slightest sneer.

“I am grateful for everything provided to me. All of it in service to the Second Army. To all Grisha and to you, General.”

The grip on Aleksander’s fork tightened.

“And yet you do not eat.”

“Hunger escapes me at the moment.” Ivan cleared his throat and continued, “I will take my meal with me at dismissal, it will not go to waste.”

“Very well.”

More hours passed.

Ivan stood at attention.

He did not ask when he would be relieved for the evening. He did not point out how odd it was for the General to remain confined to his desk for twelve hours straight. He did not ask for anything.

Finally, it was Fedyor who broke the stalemate.

“Pardon me, moy soverennyi.” The new Major reentered the War Room at well past midnight.

“Of course, Fedyor. Are you packed?”

“I am, sir. Thank you. I came to ask—“ Fedyor’s eyes again slipped to Ivan and then back to the General and he straightened his posture again.

“I came to ask if I might borrow Ivan. J-just for a few hours, sir. Until departure.”

The General stared at Ivan— his expression remained stubbornly neutral though he thought he saw an eyebrow twitch.

“I realize my request is impertinent and on the heels of a promotion—I do not mean to ask for too much. You are well within rights to deny—“

“Fedyor,” The General held up a hand.

He glanced at Ivan again who gave no sign of acknowledgment. It could almost be believed that he did not know Fedyor.

“Not impertinent at all, Major. Ivan, is it your wish to be dismissed for the evening?”

Fedyor looked confused as he watched his impassive partner. Confusion slipped into hurt and Fedyor took a back step toward the door.

“Moy soverennyi.” Ivan spoke loudly. Realizing his mistake, he quickly adjusted his volume.

“Yes, if it is at your leave, I wish to accompany Fedyor for the remainder of the evening.”

The surge of victory within the General was brief.

In the next moment, Ivan tore his eyes from Fedyor and stared directly at the General, “In addition, it is my wish to escort the Major to the front. At your leave, of course, General.”

This was unprecedented. Unplanned. Unpredicted. A simple extortion tactic gone awry. He only meant to twist the pressure point in his Heartrender. Prove to his Lieutenant that it was not only the General who had a weakness. Embarrass him as he felt embarrassed.

For Ivan to turn it around and instead request a leave of some three weeks—for the journey to Tsibeya is a long one—was beyond comprehension.

Somehow Ivan tipped out all his cards on the table when all the General wanted to prove was knowledge of what he was holding.

The top two officers in the Second Army stared at each other for several long moments.

“I will consider the request. Dismissed. Both of you.”

“Moy soverennyi.” They said with a bow, but he had already turned his back.

Aleksander did not get to sleep that night.

When morning came he stood outside to see the newly appointed Major off to the front.

“Hold.” He instructed the coach driver in his perch.

“Ivan. I’ve come to a decision about your request. You will escort our Major to the front and are granted two weeks of leave to do so.”

Ivan struggled to suppress his surprise.

“However I’ve detailed an itinerary for the return trip. It’s been too long since I have been to outposts in that area directly. Once in Tsibeya, you will travel the rest of the Fjerdan front and our holdings along the Fold. You are to visit for a total of 4 or 5 days at each camp and report back to me. I want to know which camps are low on resources, which have become sloppy, areas of improvement and any developments. No detail is too small. I want to names. I want recommendations.”

It was Fedyor who composed himself first. “Perhaps you should go pack quickly, Lieutenant.”

“Of course.” Ivan said, “General, thank you for the opportunity.”

The General gave him a curt nod and the two men in red disappeared.

Though his plans skewed sideways, Aleksander managed to secure what he needed. Peace. Solitude.

No one around to witness the attempt to tame what Alina set free inside of him. His wretched Sun Summoner.

His life had been nomadic for so long. Even as a General he never stayed in the same place longer than a month unless it was necessary. With Ivan as his eyes and ears on the ground, Aleksander was free to remain in the Little Palace for the winter.

He saw few people, spoke to fewer still except when required to request food or have a bath drawn, a letter sent. The Royal Family retreated to the Southern Palace for winter and took their share of the War Council with them. This suited him quite well. Communication over correspondence was easier when it came to strong-arming the tactics. Not that the King’s men bothered much to engage with the war over the winter. That was for the Second Army General and First Army commanders to sort out. The King would take the credit for the victories or redirect the blame accordingly.

Even with the solitude, sleep was difficult to come by. He felt as if he had been running great distances for months on end; his body in a constant state of awareness only to find the coal bucket empty and the engine slowing to a crawl.

More frequently he stayed confined to his quarters, conducting his work at odd hours when he felt he could concentrate. Other times he stared unseeing out the window and over the grounds. Grisha children played and trained under the tutelage of the older students and soldiers on leave. Their voices carried up from the grounds and for the first time in memory he paused to listen to their conversations. Simply for the sake of his own curiosity.

He did not interact with them and sooner or later, the malaise would set in and his mind would be lost to the present once more.

Most nights Aleksander found himself sat by the fireplace in his arm chair with a nightcap.

On this night he was kept awake reviewing the reports Ivan sent him on a daily basis. Thorough work. Exemplary work. Aleksander sighed.

One week and a half to enjoy together and then split apart for an undetermined amount of time. During a war, no less.

Ivan made no mention of his assignment, nor Fedyor’s. News from Fedyor, though slightly less formal, was no less professional.

He wondered to himself at his ability to control two such destinies as theirs, one letter from each of them in each of his hands. He considered the power he wielded over them so successfully. So easily.

A very small darkness in him purred at his own actions even as the rest of him could not stop fretting over the decision.

Was it necessary to have done this? He never would have cared before.

Fedyor was proving to be an excellent leader for an otherwise miserable post. Ivan was somehow more thorough and likely more suspicious than even the General so he could have no concerns about the strategy behind in their placements on the board of this war.

But was it necessary to remove either man from their stations in order to keep them apart? Specifically to keep them apart to spite his most loyal Lieutenant?

It was getting difficult to remember why this had all started. He never would have cared before.

“Hello Aleksander.”

He closed his eyes at the sound of her whispered greeting.

Could she have picked any other night? Any other than this one?

“Why do you haunt me when I feel at my weakest to defend myself?” He asked.

“You are always droll when we meet. First I am your demon and now I am your ghost.”

Months he sat wrecked in this very room wishing for her to call to him. Not daring touch the tether himself but simply hoping she wanted to see him.

How was she here?

He opened his eyes and looked over at her. It stole his breath to see her shy smile and he mourned again how weak he had become.

“You’re radiant.” He was flat-toned and sparse in his review but his eyes swallowed up every detail from her elegant, styled hair to the glittering gold necklace draped across her collarbone.

She arrived half undressed for the evening with only a boning corset and thin layer of skirts which would typically be hidden under a fine dress of silk. They were cream colored and plain and it was with added misery that he noted she had a soft glow about her.

A vague nudge in his brain hinted that he was curious about her evening activities but he found he did not have the energy to pester her. Not tonight.

She looked on him with concern and then came to kneel before him, resting her chin on his knee. He exhaled.

“I have never seen your feet before.” Her tone was amused and interested. Looking down at his bare feet peeking out from the large fur he pulled around himself before taking a seat by the fire.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, resigned to let her do all the talking for a change.

“Do you know what tonight is?” She asked.

Hair fell into her face and he brushed it back.

“I admit I don’t.”

His voice was gruff with disuse and she sat quietly contemplating his mood.

“Have you received bad news?”

Alina cast a curious eye on the letters from his two Heartrenders, held loose in his hand and quite close to her face.

He started and quickly folded them up.

At the movement she pulled away from him lest she catch a knee to the chin.

“Did you come here simply to investigate my affairs and then flit away again for another year?” He snapped, throwing the letters outside of his reach and consequently outside her view.

“O-Of course not—“

“Then why have you come?” He demanded.

She opened and closed her mouth, unwilling to voice the obvious.

If Alina was here, it was because he was the one who called to her. She answered.

Aleksander took a deep breath and pulled the furs tighter around himself. He thought of the letters, the pair of Heartrenders, the unbearable sadness he felt now and looked away from her in shame.

Now she was here, the thought of her discovering his ill-conceived retribution on Ivan was deeply distressing. Why tonight of all nights?

“It’s been many nights since I have seen you awake in my visits.” Her voice was so soft, so timid.

His sadness expanded under the weight of the implication. He had been calling to her in his sleep. Who knows how many times in the last few months.

She answered.

She answered and still she never called to him.

He thought about opening his mouth to speak but his jaw did not want to move. Eyes fixed on the night sky out the window.

He felt her move close again. A small hand reaching under the furs to find his.

“You need sleep.” She pulled him to his feet. When he realized she wasn’t letting go, he tightened his own grip and walked her to his bed. His fur fell away, exposing his chest and black sleep trousers.

With hesitation, he lay his head on his pillow, looking almost as if he wasn’t sure if he was using it correctly. She exhaled a soft laugh and smiled, climbing into the bed.

Alina situated herself against the headboard, maneuvering his pillow into her lap and stroked over his bare shoulder and down his back. She gathered his torso in her arms, folding herself over him possessively.

Aleksander squeezed his eyes shut, his own arms circling her thighs and pulling her to him.

She hummed her pleasure.

To be touched so freely, so thoroughly was his undoing. Part of his life-force returned to him at her touch and he held her small body tighter around him. She did not seem to mind.

“Why do you never call me to you, moya solnyshka?”

He could not see her face for which they were both glad while she thought about how to answer him.

“It would not be wise.” She said eventually.

The rejection burned. She must have felt it.

“If I brought you to me each time I wanted you, I would not let you leave.”

His insides cooled. It did not change his demeanor but she smoothed the edges with her words. She was not sure that she should have said it.

“Then it is cruel of you to stay away.”

She laughed. “Good.”

“Good? Good that you are cruel to me?”

His eyes turned to look up at her. A teasing smile alighted her face as she leaned over him.

“Yes. I sometimes think you confuse cruelty with justice. This world has been unjust to you so you deliver it your cruelty. It is good for you to feel this difference.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. It made him look so young to her that she chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“You think it is your role to teach me such lessons?”

“Would you listen to anyone else?”

His eyes narrowed at her. “If you asked me to listen to someone else, I would consider it.”

She blushed. Outside it was cold and dark and the world was scarred with the cruel things he had wrought. But right now his little sun was here and she was gently giddy and she relished holding him as no one had in several lifetimes.

He reached a hand up to tangle in her hair and brought her lips to his. They were soft. Her pulse thrummed under his palm and he smiled that he did not need to be a Heartrender to know her rhythm in that second.

“You say sweet things sometimes.” She stroked his brow with her pinky. “Be wary of the man who has sweet words and sour actions.” She said this to him in a wisened, deep voice, finishing with a giggle.

“Just what devilish proverb is that your casting over my bedsheets?”

She tilted her head back with mirth, “That is a Pabelism.”

“Am I supposed to understand this phrase?” She beamed down at him as her eyes danced with a private joke.

“Just a man named Pabel who taught me one or two or two million things like that when I was younger.”

He quirked his eyebrows at her, “Hmm. Sounds like the opposite of the things my mother would say. Where your Pabel warns you away from such a vagrant, Baghra would likely make the same man a job offer.”

Her cackle surprised him, “I’m sorry. It’s just…that is funnier than you know.”

The gaudy necklace chose that moment to come loose from her neck and she clutched it back to her sternum before it could fall.

“Sorry about that.” She let it drop into her hand and a moment later, it was gone. Presumably dumped next to her in whatever place her real body lay at the moment.

Aleksander remembered again that she was not truly there. It unnerved him.

Perhaps he already felt the loneliness of the Little Palace before now but with her light here, it cast bigger shadows and he grew fearful of its absence.

“Alina.” His fingertips trailed the outline where her necklace just lay, “Where were you tonight?”

“Aleks—“

“Don’t—“ He brushed his fingers over her lips and his voice was softer than it had ever been when he asked, “No specifics necessary. Just—It makes me crazy at times how little I know about your days and your nights. I want to picture them. I want to picture you as you are in real life.”

She still looked unsure.

He sat up. “You see me here, Alina.” He gestured around himself. “You know the Little Palace. You could name several members of my guard and soldiers. You’ve seen meetings in my War Room and you have watched me pay courtesy to the bloody King and Court.”

His voice cracked with the volume and he lowered it again, not wanting to frighten her. “As if that were not enough, you see me sleep. Do you know how maddening this is?”

He did look mad on this night. His long hair was wild and fell in thick sheets around his shoulders. The bags under his eyes and pallor of his skin told her that he was neither sleeping nor eating well. His chest which was bare now without the protection of his furs also seemed somewhat more lean. A clear loss of muscle mass and strength. It was easily the most vulnerable she had ever seen him.

Alina looked more conflicted than ever which he hoped meant that she at least wanted to share something with him. Her hands fidgeted with his, picking at callouses in his palm.

“I want to see you in the sunlight. And if you will not allow me that right now, I want to imagine you there.”

He was speaking soft, kissing her hair.

“This is why it is hard to see you,” she whispered. “I want to share these things with you. But we are not there yet.”

“You still are not convinced of my devotion to you? You do not trust that I will be on your side in whatever you do?”

“No. It is not that at all. You do not see it because you are here. You are running an army and behaving like a General and carrying out orders for a King on the opposite side of the Fold from me. W-We are world’s apart, Aleksander.”

She was being reticent again, saying only a fraction of what she was thinking.

Where his hand was lax in her grip, he now curled it around her fingers.

“That is why I want to begin to do things together. You could show yourself—come out of hiding and show the world that the Sun Summoner is no mere rumor. She is more than a mythical saint who delivers nameless people from certain death. You and I could show all of Ravka the power we two can harness. We can lead Grisha everywhere out of hiding and into true sanctuary.”

His brain and body were alive with energy for the first time since this horrible winter set in. The intensity of it was channeled through his eyes where he held her gaze.

“No, Sasha. We cannot. I-I cannot. Not now.”

“But why, Alina?” He gripped her arms, willing to shake the information loose from her lips but she merely stared back at him with a pained look.

“Everything is different on my side of the Fold. I cannot explain everything right now but I will someday, I promise you that. One day I will share everything with you and we will not keep anything from each other.”

“And should I decide to come to that side of the Fold of my own accord?”

It wasn’t a threat. At least she wanted to believe it was not but his demeanor shifted into that of the General beginning negotiations.

She frowned. “I would ask you to consider that your are not the only one who plans for a better future for Grisha. I have plans of my own in motion. Plans that will turn to ruin if they are disrupted by the revelation of my identity as the Sun Summoner—or by the attentions of the Shadow Summoner.”

He stared hard at her, eyes wide, willing to read her secrets through her very skull.

She continued, “You should also know on this side of the Fold, there are those you have harmed who would seek retaliation on you. I do not know that I can stop them.”

His eyes hardened as he looked at her, a haughty expression stealing him away.

“Those I have harmed? Who exactly do you mean?”

She sighed and shrugged a shoulder. “Does it matter? I do not think you notice or think of it as harm. You do things as a General in war and those actions hurt people. People who are dear to me.”

“Tell me which people are dear to you and I will see that it is stopped.”

“Do not mock me.”

“Perhaps you could draft a list? First and last names please, followed by their exact locations and their specific relationship to you.”

She glared at him, “You know, for as long as I have desired you and wanted to keep you for myself, you have made it very difficult for me to be able to do so in good conscious. It seems that you do nothing but set up more obstacles for us.”

He sighed, running a hand over her hair in supplication. “Surely you can meet me halfway on this, Alina. Tell me how to make things right for us right now and I will do everything in my power to see it through. You cannot leave me in the dark forever.”

“I do not want to leave you anywhere but you are asking me to give you all the answers to how to be good. I cannot lead you out of the dark with my light alone. You have your own light in you.” She poked at his chest. “One which you have neglected for far, far too long. I cannot unearth it for you.”

If he did not think she might disappear on principle, he would have rolled his eyes at her. Dramatically. Still he couldn’t contain every speck of annoyance from crossing his features.

She held his face in her hands, willing him to hear her. “You think I am being trite but I am not. You have a light that is your own inside yourself. You have to be willing to find it. Just as I have found my own darkness within me.”

She could tell this intrigued him. If she could provide him some measure of comfort, it would be the knowledge that she was not the Sainted Sankta, untouchable and untarnished. She was not better than, just different.

“What darkness have you found?” He was worried for her. She looked away, nervous to divulge too much.

“I have learned of some kinds of darkness. I have seen its uses and I have exerted them when I had no other option.”

“The girl I knew looked on darkness and thought it blasphemy.” He was sardonic and baiting her with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“I could not have remained the naive girl you once knew.”

“What changed?” His tone was flat but she felt his temper building under the surface.

“When we were here together all those years ago, when I found out who you were and what you had done; The Fold, the creation of an army, a dozen deaths and a dozen resurrections of yourself—I was…intrigued.”

Aleksander sat back from her, kneeling and leaned away. “‘Intrigued’, is it? Not ‘repulsed’? Not ‘horrified’? Because I believe those were words you used then—“

Alina cringed at the memory, “I remember what I said.” She cut him off before his temper could derail them.

“I am sorry. What I know now is that you are not what frightens me. I feel the suffering of our people and I have heard their stories and seen their scars every day of my life. What truly frightened me then and what frightens me now is how easily I could sink into vengeance myself, same as you.”

His mind could not process. The place in his head in which Alina lived, an Alina full of brightness and charm and grace, could not also harbor the urge to plot, to maim, to rule over otkazat’sya lives in the same way his blood thirsted for it.

He told her as much. “You do not know what it is to seek vengeance nor retribution. You're practically still a child. You could not know the depths of pain that would drive you to see a thousand otkazat’sya lives crushed beneath your boots. When they look upon your little sunbeams they will weep and bow and worship you for them as equally as they have punished me for my shadows. Do not compare your vengeance to mine. You will never have to know the terror and impotence of watching a gang of otkazat’sya rape and torture and mutilate while your hands are bound.”

She laughed at him. An empty, pitying laugh.

That stoked his ire to breaking point. He fisted a hand in her hair and pulled her to his face.

Through gritted teeth he snarled at her. “Do not mock me now, Alina. It is one thing to withhold your saint-given light from me. That is your right. But do not pretend to own a sliver of my darkness in you. I earned it. I bled for it. I watched thousands of Grisha bleed for it.”

Far from being frightened at this outburst she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead into his.

“You are starting to understand. This is what I am trying to telling you. I am not claiming to own your darkness. It is not your darkness or your shadows in me. They are my own. Born of my own experiences.”

Her eyes lifted to his. His grip on her hair had loosened. “You cannot be my teacher in darkness because I cannot allow you to get close to the darkness I harbor. It is mine to discover and understand and tame. When I am around you, you pull them out of me, Sasha. Just as my light calls out the light in you. Have you not felt it in yourself?”

He said nothing. He thought of his insanity. His madness. The rage, the desire, the unbearable sadness he was currently struggling to escape. Was this his light? He had never felt so acutely. It would be fitting that his light did little else but illuminate his pain.

“I have hope that one day we are strong enough to wield both within ourselves but right now I am afraid of dragging you down a moral path you do not wish to be on just as I am afraid you will lead me down a dark road that is not my own. Do you see now what would happen if we came together before both of us were ready? You would come to believe there was no goodness in you without me and I would blame you for the wrath that I harbor even if it is my own.

“We would hate each other in the end. I’ve already told you I cannot let that happen.” She whispered.

“Say something.” She brushed her palms over his head.

When he found it, his voice was husky.

“Leave.”

“Aleksander,” Her hands landed his shoulders.

He tried to pull away from her. She pulled him back.

He surprised her by gripping her jaw in his palm, his breath was hot on her face.

“No. Fuck your plans. Fuck your light.” He looked at her like a caged beast and his skin was emanating heat, “You denied me my own justice years ago when you would not stay with me and now you casually seek to exact the same retribution. How fucking noble of you.”

She yanked her jaw from his grip and pushed at his chest.

“Do not blame me for the flaws in your plan, you saints-forsaken fool. You are the one who hinged everything on controlling a person who you did not know and had not met. Fuck you and fuck your plan. You’re no better than the otkazat’sya who would trade me into indentured servitude.”

Shadows were pouring out of him and she knew the motion for the Cut on instinct. His eyes were wild with rage and she took a chance, snagging one of his wrists in each hand before he could release the blade. She tackled him to his back on the bed where she kept him pinned.

Both of them were panting as she perched over him.

“The Cut? Saints, Sasha. What were you going to do if that actually killed me?”

“We both know it wouldn’t have,” he growled. His wild eyes roamed her face. “Best case, it would have severed our connection and I could get some bloody peace for once. I could finally think.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Though he could overpower her, even he was frightened of his actions and couldn’t bring himself to move.

He felt her hands loosen their grip on his wrists.

“You’re right.” Her weight shifted off of him and he opened his eyes to see her holding her knees to her chest on the bed beside him.

“It is selfish to keep coming back here when I know I am not ready.”

Aleksander watched her with wary eyes.

“We should go back to how things were before. It’s cleaner.”

He was breathing deeply, willing words to come out of his mouth but his jaw wouldn’t move anymore. The energy that she brought with her, the energy that invigorated him like nothing else had this entire winter, was evaporating with her. His personal setting sun. Everything was happening quick. It always was with them. He had no words.

“Just—“ She closed her eyes and then opened them to meet his, they glistened with unshed tears. He wished he could feel something.

He did a little. But it was far away from him. Like a pebble thrown into the depths of a cave, hitting the stone walls and bouncing on the ground before going quiet.

“Everything I do, I am doing it for our people. Yours and mine. And maybe it is vain but I hope that in the end you will truly see me as your equal. Even if you end up hating me for eternity. I think I could endure your hatred so long as I still had your respect, at least.”

His eyes did not blink. He needed to see her fade out of existence.

Even when he was alone, he didn’t move. He could not bring himself to shift his head onto the pillow. He stared the same direction he had been staring, only now that she was gone, he had a clear view of the night sky outside.

It was an oppressive kind of dark outside. This was especially notable given his room was painted in his own black shadows.

“Do you know what tonight is?” Alina had asked him that early on.

It came to him then, though he should have known sooner.

It was the longest night, the darkest night of entire year. The winter solstice.

#darklina #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #alina x aleksander #smut #politics #power dynamics #mutual pining #angst #darklina fanfic #darklina fic #shadow and bone

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milknette · 4 years ago

Text

day 08 - secret dating

you secret's safe and no one, has to know i’m your getaway.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

IT happens gradually, then all at once.

First, it starts with Mylene and Ivan. Wholesome. And, Alya and Nino. Perfect. Then, Juleka and Rose. Adorable.

But afterwards, it somehow extends further; to people outside of their class. Nathaniel and Marc. Kim and Ondine. Sabrina and some boy in another class. Even Chloé had gotten a girlfriend over the summer, with Kagami finally accepting her after months of the former's wooing.

By the time they all return to class, Marinette, to her complete surprise (and in some parts, horror), finds that the apparent theme for their return to class is romance— and as far as everyone else is concerned, she's the exception.

(Except that Marinette's not. Not really— though she can't exactly yell that truth into the sky or anything.)

Instead, she huffs, braves through the lovey-dovey atmosphere, and takes a seat.

Only for Alya to rush right beside her, Nino in tow, to completely rub it in her face.

"Someone looks a little sour today," she smirks, eyes bright with amusement. "Not liking being back to school?"

"I just don't understand what happened to everyone after the break!" Marinette complains, waving her hands around in evident confusion. "What made everyone so weird!?"

"Love," Alya shrugs, saying it almost too simply. "Everyone spent their respective summer together, and dating just came as the most natural step." She turns to Marinette, shaking her head. "And if anything, you're the weird one here! Girl, you're the only single one left."

Well, she begged to differ.

Marinette shakes her head, then points at a pair at the other side of the room. "What about Max and Alix? They aren't dating anyone either!"

Alya rolls her eyes. "They're not interested in dating, remember?" She points out. "It's their choice to be single. You're single because you have no choice."

"That's not true, I—!"

"You…?"

Marinette pauses mid-sentence, and after an evident battle with herself, finally heaves a sigh of defeat. "Nothing," she finally grumbles, looking down.

God, the whole superhero-secret-identity thing was increasingly becoming a pain to deal with.

And the whole superhero-dating-superhero thing made it all that much more complicated.

"So I'm right," Alya decides to settle their conversation, crossing her arms over her chest. Marinette can't protest, and she only nods, though her expression shows anything but agreement.

"Fine," Marinette exhales, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. "But it's not that easy to find someone to date! I'm busy, and I don't really know anyone else my age outside of here," she gestures at the school. "And as you said, they're all taken. So I guess I'll just have to wait!"

She hopes that's enough to get Alya off her case.

Her best friend did take more kindly to reasoning and logic rather than a straightforward I don't want to date (because I have a boyfriend), after all.

But to her soon-to-be-realized horror, Marinette's statement does the complete opposite.

Alya shares a glance with her boyfriend, who smiles and nods. "Glad that's the only reason you're not out dating!"

"... why?"

She slides a paper through the desk. The glaring letters, couples coupon!, instill in Marinette a feeling of dread she never felt even in previous battles with Hawkmoth and the akumas.

This can't be real.

"Because that means you can't say no," she grins.

This is a joke.

"Tomorrow afternoon, at the café we visited last weekend," she continues.

This is a misunderstanding.

"Nino's friend will meet you there."

This isn't what she thinks it'll be, of course.

"Have fun on your blind date!"

Damn it, Alya.

Ladybug stops outside Adrien's room, and knocks on the window.

He's barely awake when he walks over, but the sleep almost fades away immediately as they lock eyes. Instead, he beams and runs toward the window, unlocking it so she can enter.

"What are you doing, Milady?" He asks, eyes sparkling. "I thought we weren't patrolling tonight?"

"We need to talk," she instead says.

Adrien panics. "Wait," he begins to flounder. "If this is because you're disappointed that I'm me— that I'm Adrien Agreste, I promise that I can be better, please don't take my Miraculous, or even worse, break up with me, milady, I love you so, so, much and…"

"What? No," Ladybug's quick to shake her head. "I'm not breaking up with you."

She can almost hear the relieved exhale that escapes his mouth. "Oh, phew! That would've been a catastrophe…"

Ladybug feels a smile form on her face. "So, losing me is even worse than losing your Miraculous, huh?"

He's flustered. "I mean— I do take my job seriously! And I love being Chat Noir. It's just that… I can't lose you, either." Adrien walks toward her, then presses a kiss to her knuckles. "Milady, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She flushes red, then looks away. "Same to you."

Adrien beams, then sits down, gesturing for her to sit next to him. "So what did you want to talk about?"

It's hard to decide what to say. So she decides to tell it to him straight.

"I'm going on a date with someone else tomorrow."

It's a terrible idea.

He panics, again. "Wait, so you're not breaking up with me, so… you want an open relationship?" Adrien looks almost scandalized. "I'm not sure how I feel about sharing you with anyone else…"

"No!" Ladybug interrupts, shaking her head vehemently. "It's just… for my civilian identity. My friend wants me to go on a blind date, and she can't know that about you, so…," She sighs, then looks down at her lap. "I had no choice, I'm sorry."

Ladybug's surprised when his hands come to hold her own. "Hey, as long as you know you're meowne," he smiles. "And I'm yours— I don't see a problem with it."

She's about to thank him, when he suddenly continues. "You know, this wouldn't be an issue if you just told me who you were…"

"You know I can't do that."

"But you know my true identity!" Adrien argues, gesturing to himself. "I don't understand why I can't know yours."

"I know because I'm the Guardian," Ladybug tries to reason with him. "That's the reason I know everyone else who holds it—"

"But I'm not like them." Adrien finally argues, sighing as the words leave his mouth. "We got our Miraculous together. We were partners, before we became a team of superheroes. I was here for you, with you, since the beginning. And… I thought you trusted me."

The last part comes almost as a whisper, but she can hear it loud and clear. Ladybug takes a deep breath and shifts, staring him in the eye. "I do trust you," she attempts to explain. "It's just… complicated."

"What is?!"

"I don't want you to be disappointed with me!" Ladybug finally shouts, shrinking back as her statement hangs in the air.

Adrien's at a loss for words, and before he can even attempt to respond, Ladybug tears her hands away and stands. When he gets his bearings, she's already one foot outside the window.

"I'm sorry," she only says. "I think I just… I just need to process everything." Ladybug smiles, though it's evidently conflicted. "I'll see you soon, Chat."

Then, without another word, she leaves.

Marinette paces in front of the cafe, thumbs twiddling together in apparent nervousness.

Her mind's full. She can't concentrate on the impending date at all— her conversation with Adrien, with Chat Noir, still as fresh in her memory, replaying in her mind as if it were a bad omen.

She yawns, a direct result of a dire lack of sleep. Marinette spent the majority of the night speaking with Tikki, seeking her advice on the matter; and her only response was, "listen to your heart".

Marinette knows what her heart says. What her heart yearns for.

She just doesn't know if she has the strength to say it.

When a stranger calls her, it takes three times for him to say her name until she notices.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

That was probably her date, then.

Holding back the intense need to snap at him, Marinette takes a deep breath. She smiles, then turns toward him.

"Yes, that's me. You're Nino's friend, the—?"

She pauses.

Everything seems to slow down and fade away. The world stills. Her mind stops.

All she can see is him.

"I— uh," Adrien scratches his head. "Yeah, that's me. Sorry, I had no idea this was a date, Nino just told me I was meeting a friend until a few minutes ago, and…," he flounders.

Now that was familiar.

"I'm just in love with someone else, so I don't think I can go through with this, I'm so sorry I made you come all this way—"

"You always did apologize too much."

Adrien looks up, evidently confused. "I'm sorry, have we met before…?"

"So you love me, but you can't recognize me at all, huh?"

"No way…"

Marinette smiles, and it's a mix of nervousness and excitement and fear and love and everything else all at once. "Hi, kitty," she begins. "I hope this isn't too disappointing, but…"

She can't say another word, because suddenly she's being scooped up and carried as Adrien holds her in his arms. He's beaming, and his eyes are almost overflowing with joy.

Marinette feels her heart full. When he sets her down, his hands never leave her waist.

"Milady," he breathes, burying his nose into her neck. "I love you— so much."

"My chaton," Marinette replies, full of care. Full of joy. Full of admiration and awe that this was truly happening. That the fates had worked completely in their favor.

"I love you too."

#auyeah2020 #mlauyeahaugust2020 #auyeahaugust #auyeah august #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #im not sure which side of the love square to tag this as #ml #miraculous ladybug #milk writes #ml fic #ml fanfic

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urlocalbunny · 4 years ago

Text

.stripping - lovan.

hello, this is bunny from tha past! i have arrived in the furutre with huggies, smoochie smooches and lots of head pats. and also a hARDCORE SMUT OF IVAN AND LOIC *SLAPS YOU LOVINGLY*

i know this ship isn’t loved by all but who cares? not me.

also me and aaron are celebrating our second anniversary in Bahamas.

1983 words. enjoy!

Loic sat on the bed, sighing and messing up his always loose hair, Ivan not one single time leaving his mind. After everything was said and done,e been living together and trying to work out their stuff. However, something made Loic cower in fear every time.

Ivan sometimes seemed keen on fucking him when he fed, and while Loic could pop a boner just thinking he finally got to fuck the guy he loved, he was inexperienced. You see, Constance was boring, so they never had sex. Putting up with her exaggerated cuddling that he knew by now it was a relief for succeeding in tricking him was already a lot. He didn't know anything about sex because Constance was folding herself for a man that didn't enjoy her company.

"Are you going to be thinking so much about us for so long?" He shot up, sitting back when Ivan cackled close to him. "Is that what you're worried about?" He was more serious now. The newfound fondness Loic had for his eyes creeping up. He nodded. At first, Loic was angry at Ivan for reading his mind, but when his vampire had big frustrations, it would just come to him naturally. Loic knew Ivan wasn't peeping on his private stuff.

"Hm, maybe... I- I don't know what to do with myself so-" Ivan snorted, kissing his temple.

"I can teach you... But I'm not so soft in bed, and if you want, this is going to be me having my way with you. How about that, baby?"

The nickname made his cheeks blush.

"Ivan! C-can you not?" Ivan held his waist, lips attaching themselves to his cheek briefly.

"I'm in your hands, baby boy. It's all up to you."

Loic felt even more embarrassed, pulling a deep breath and trying to calm down. His dick was already throbbing. He never thought he'd feel this aroused with so little. But Ivan had always been so- so-.

"Okay. We can do it." Ivan smiled at that, a hand caressing his face. He was always so casual with stuff.

"I love your bangs. They make you look sexy." Ivan kneeled, pushing the chalice on the bed. The blonde's knee stopped against his crotch, hands holding his wrists on top of his head firmly. Loic gasped, feeling Ivan's hot mouth come in contact with his for a kiss. It was slow, sensual, and a little spicy given the situation, but soon Ivan sped up and moved his knee, massaging him through his pants. Loic could only moan into the kiss. What the fuck was that sensation?

Loic held his hand awkwardly and shyly, trying to brace himself to the pleasure on his cock, but Ivan stopped altogether.

"Wha-?"

"Sit up. I'm taking it all off." He did it only to have Ivan yanking his shirt and pants off, trousers too. His cock sprung free. Ivan licked his lips. "Can I suck you off, baby boy?"

"H-how do you..?"

"I have my tricks." He winked, "But first of all, let's make this better for us." Ivan pulled a bottle and ropes out of the bottom drawer. Loic gulped. "Can I tie you up?" Loic frowned.

"Just do it!" Ivan giggled, tying his wrists securely behind his back and his legs folded into themselves to keep him kneeling as he sat.

"Be nice..." The blonde kissed his lips once more, then kneeled in front of his cock. "You're so hard, baby. Pay attention to me so you can learn, right?"

Ivan didn't wait for an answer, blowing on his cock. The cold air made him wiggle his hips, but Ivan didn't seem to care. He pumped him, licking a stripe on the underside and kissing the head, licking the hole and tasting him, then humming. He held Loic's dick, looking into his eyes with a burning desire.

"You taste so, so good." Loic was beet red, tears prickling in his eyes.

"Why- why would you say that- ah, ah!" Ivan sucked on the head, eyes rolling. He probably liked the taste of cum. What was the taste? Ivan pumped what he couldn't take with his hand, little moans messing with Loic's head as his mouth glided over the skin, tongue licking at the hole sometimes. His mouth dived, and Loic didn't have a choice but to stay put. All he wanted to do was to fuck his throat and cum. Ivan was driving him crazy. His other hand grasped his balls all of a sudden, making him keen.

"Ivan! I feel so- I feel funny." Ivan chuckled darkly.

"Then it means it's time to stop for a while and do something else..." He backed away, looking at Loic through his long lashes, a bashful expression gracing his pretty face.

Loic felt desperate, his cock was red all over and aching, but he kept his eyes on Ivan. He ran a hand through his blonde locks, kicking his boots to the side and then beginning to pull his jacket off.

"Ivan? What are you-" "-Shhh, baby."

His eyes widened. Ivan was stripping in front of him. He'd never seen him bare before, he was too ashamed to even look at him shirtless, and now there he was, his wet cock throbbing and twitching, tied into himself and kneeling. Ivan pulled his pants down first. Loic stared at his thighs, admiring his pale skin, the lean build, and how squeezable they seemed. He probably felt so soft.

"Let me touch you..." He whispered, and aside from a giggle, got ignored by Ivan. He turned on his back, smirking at him and pulling his shirt up, wiggling his hips ever so slightly to shimmy out of the tight fit. His ass was so nice too, the black boxers were also tight around him, and Ivan opened his legs. Logic could make out the line of his bulge beginning in the front.

Loic wanted to fuck so bad. Ivan's hips started to appear, then his tiny waistline and his shoulders. When he pulled the shirt to his arms, the moles appeared, back muscles and arms flexing. Loic moaned. What would happen if Ivan just took him? Had his way with him like he said he would? Turning around and making eye contact one last time, Ivan wiggled out of his boxers, leaning down and showing him his ass. Loic whimpered. His fingers moved around in the restraints. He wanted to grab, suck on his skin, make him whimper, beg, even.

He was so embarrassed by himself for thinking like this of his lover, but that's all he ever wanted and more. Right in front of him, and so, so handsome. Nothing anyone could have ever done would make him feel like this: it had to be him.

Loic was so shy when Ivan turned around, trying not to look at his crotch, but he was just so heavenly. He could peek, couldn't he? The shiny blonde hairs were neatly trimmed but still there, forming a stripe from under his navel. Loic could do anything to touch, touch his abs, his pink nipples, and kiss the moles on his chest. To bite his neck, to have him drinking his blood, bite him, ravish him. He was desperate. Ivan smiled, grabbing the bottle and sitting close to him. His cock hurt, but he felt that soon enough, Ivan would just let him have release. Right?

"You've never done that before, so I'll show you closely..." Ivan straddled his kneeling form, ass up and face down. Loic blushed, looking at his tiny hole. The realization hit him.

"Are you gonna...?"

"Hmmm, I'll ride you like a good owner today, but it's gonna be you the next time... Alright, baby?" Loic closed his eyes, but Ivan reached backward and pinched his nipple, making him moan. "Alright?"

"Yes, Ivan." The blonde giggled, sighing in delight and dropping a few drops that slid from his hole to his cock. He proceeded to grab his length and support himself with his shoulders, moaning Loic's name shamelessly, fisting his cock a little harder than he did before. His fingers collected some of the lube, poking at his entrance and caressing it. Loic couldn't take his eyes off, but it was too much. Ivan was moaning, little whimpers and curses falling out, calling his lover's name over and over, cock hard and dripping. Ivan decided to be a tease and let their cocks touch, jerking roughly and wiggling his hips up and down. His finger started to slide in, then out, in and out again, each time more than the last. Loic was panting, cock throbbing more than before.

"Ivan, p-please-" "shhh, baby. I told you, you're going to fuck me. Just calm down."

"No, I want it now. I want to cum so bad..."

"Wait."

Ivan inserted a second finger, moaning again. He was stretching himself out for him. His fingers scissored, played, went knuckles deep and back. Sometimes, he'd lube himself until the tiny hole was stretching out. He was so scared of hurting Ivan, but before he could overthink, a cold drop of the bottle landed on his cock. Ivan turned around, pushing him to press his back against the wall, and supported himself on his lap now in front, pumping him a little. Loic could barely keep the tears from spilling. Ivan kissed him again, this time softly.

"Aww... Does my baby feel good?" Loic nodded violently, trying to line up. Ivan granted him at least this, easing his tip inside.

"Ivan, that feels so..."

"Good, right?"

"Yes." Loic threw his head back, resting it against the wall. Just the feeling of Ivan's soft ass sitting on his thighs was making his heart race. He started moving his hips against him slowly, eyes never leaving his neck. He was hungry. He kept going, saving it for later. They made eye contact, Loic leaned in for yet another kiss. When they pulled away to breathe, Ivan had an evil gleam in his eyes. His fangs sunk into Loic's neck. His eyes rolled back, hips grinding harshly against the chalice.

He felt everything. He felt Loic's despair for him, the nearing release and the pleasure on top of his, and by the way he moaned and whined and tried to push his hips into him, he knew they were sharing their feelings. It was going to be over soon. Loic's blood tasted so good that Ivan almost didn't mind if only he came. He was way too good.

"Fuck, Loic, you're so good to me." His moan was so shameless, so full of passion. His hips against his were making a slapping sound. "Imagine if you could touch me. I'd go crazy. It's a shame you can't, right?"

Loic felt his dick throbbing when Ivan squeezed around him. His eyes pleaded, but Ivan didn't even let him talk.

"Imagine how it would be if you could choke me, move your hips how you wanted, make me take it... God, I'd never cum so hard with anybody else. What? Are you going to cum? That's it, baby, cum for your owner like the dirty little boy you just became. That's it."

Loic strangled a moan, then let another out, Ivan's name never leaving his lips as he shook around, mouth agape and gasping for air. Ivan kept going, riding it out and pumping his dick to chase his high, making himself become a moaning mess on top of Loic. When Ivan came, he pushed Loic down and kneeled on top, spilling cum on the man's face and chest. He giggled when Loic made the most innocent and confused face.

Ivan thought he was great, but as soon as he caught a drip closer to his lip and made a face, Ivan's heart nearly left his body. He was so pure.

"That tastes bad."

"You'll get used to it, believe me."

#nsfwbunny #moonlight lovers #moonlight lovers ivan #moonlight lovers loic #ml lovan #ml ivan #ml loic #moonlight lovers headcanons #ml smut #kinktober 2020

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ms-rampage · 4 years ago

Text

Eden’s Gate: Eden’s Gate Chapter 3 - No More Lies

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst. Paige is somewhat of a bitch in this.

Word count: 1.7k

This is a short follow up series to Kidnapped leading up to the nuclear holcaust, and the beginning of New Dawn.

Summary: The Winchester family work on tracking down Joseph Seed. Paige finds out about Kate’s pregnancy.

Guest OCs: Barbara Teller (FC: Katey Segal), Morgan Costello (FC: Kathryn Newton), Ryan Cho (FC: Ryan Potter), Sarah Dunham (FC: Toni Storm), Ivan Wren (FC: Dylan Spouse) Isaiah Wren (FC: Cole Spouse).

**********************************

A week has passed, and Kate is indeed pregnant.

Fucking hell. John Seed was fucking right!!.

She’s most likely due April/May of that following year.

She can’t let anyone know just yet, especially now with everyone that is busy tracking down Joseph Seed. Wanting to kill him.

Carrying the spawn of John Seed. The child might end up being a sadistic little shit just like him. It’s a matter of time when her stomach starts to get bigger. Paige is not far ahead of her, but she still doesn't have a baby bump just yet.

She radios Wheaty, telling him to meet her at the Whistling Beaver Brewery. He agrees, and will meet her there.

Paige, Mandy, Kenny and everyone else is working with what Rachel had given them. She knows, she has to tell them, sooner or later Paige is starting to show signs of her pregnancy. She threw up that morning, and is eating excessively. Kate knew it was a matter of time before she would go through that as well.

Her and John had sex the night before his death. That was August 14th, now it’s August 26th. A little over a week, 9 days to be exact. Paige is probably 5 days to a week ahead of her. Not sure how she was able to keep track of all that. Kate goes downstairs to where the others are. Including Rachel.

“Hey” Paige says, looking up from her laptop.

“Hey” she responds.

“Are you hungry?!?” Mandy asks, who is cooking.

“Umm, no I’m good. I’m about to head out, and meet up with Wheaty” she says.

“Okay. Don’t get pregnant” Paige jokes, not looking up from her laptop.

Kate furrows her eyebrows at her. “I won’t” she responds.

Rachel looks up from her book, and looks over at Kate.

“I’ll be back later” she says before leaving to her car.

****************************************

After a 20 minute drive, Kate arrives at the brewery.

She’s a little early, so she sits down at a table, and waits for Wheaty.

“Kate?!?” a familiar voice calls out.

She looks over to her right, and sees her long time friends Morgan, Ryan, Sarah, Ivan and Isaiah.

“Hey!!” she says, standing up to give them all a hug.

“We heard about what happened to your sister” Sarah tells her

“I told them” Ryan says, “Paige was my cage cellmate at St. Francis”.

“Yeah, yeah. We got her back, and Jacob paid the price” Kate says.

“And we also heard about you, and Wheaty killing John” Morgan says, through her teeth. Nudging her elbow at her.

Kate nods her head, “Yeah. Yeah. I killed him. Well Nick Rye shot his plane down. Their trash talk to each other was hilarious, comedy level, and all we have left to kill is Joseph”.

“Sooo who are you meeting here?!?” Sarah asks.

“As a matter of fact, I’m meeting Wheaty here” she says.

“It took ya long enough.” Morgan jokes, “He’s a great guy. You deserve the best”.

"John's a douche, you deserve the best" Ivan tells her. Playfully hitting her shoulder.

She nods her head with a smile.

“Yeah I know. So Ryan, why did Jacob have you locked up?!” Kate asks.

He hesitates, “Because of my knowledgement in chemistry, and I may have caused some trouble in his region when he was still alive”.

“I got caught as well” Morgan says.

Kate’s eyes widened “When?!?”.

“A few months ago” she replies, "I was able to escape. Overnight".

They chat for another few minutes, and they leave.

Kate sits back down, and waits for Wheaty.

5 minutes go by, and he walks through the door.

“Hey” she says, when he sees her.

“Hey” he responds, kissing her, “So why did you call me here?!?”.

“I’m pregnant” she says, “I took a test, and it came back positive”.

His jaw drops open, “You serious?!?”.

She nods her head, “Yeah”.

“Do the others know?!?” he asks, “Your family?!”.

She looks down, “No. None of them know about it”. She sighs, “I don’t know how to tell them”.

“You don’t have to tell them it’s John’s. Just say it's mine” he tells her.

She nods her head, “I can. I can. I’m a good liar, and all. But I can’t lie about this”.

“Faith is living with us. She’s helping us track down Joseph” she says.

“Can you trust her?!” he asks.

“She knows I’m pregnant”.

Wheaty looks at her confused, “What do you mean, she knows?!?. I thought no one else knew about it?!".

“I never told her, or anyone. But she “sensed” it. She said I’m having a girl”.

He looks around in confusion, “She said you were having a girl?. When it’s not even an embryo”.

“That’s what I thought” Kate responds, “Unless she’s a witch or something”.

They chatted for a couple of hours, and they went back to their places.

Wheaty the Wolf's Den, and Kate the Winchester-Smith compound.

Arriving home around 6:30pm, the sun is barely setting. Kate walks through the front door, and is greeted by Barbara.

“Hey sweetie, your sister told me you went on a date?!. Who’s the guy, or girl?”

Kate chuckles, “He’s a part of the Whitetail Militia, he’s the host of a pirated radio broadcast, and is the best thing that has ever happened to me”.

She goes upstairs to her room. A few minutes later, Rachel knocks at her door.

-knock knock knock-

“Yeah?!” she responds.

The door opens, and she sees Rachel walk in.

“Hey Rachel” she says.

“So how was your date?” she asks.

“It went good. We had a great time” she responds.

“Did you tell him?” she asks.

Kate looks up at her, “About what?”.

“Your pregnancy” she whispers.

“Oh, oh right!!” she chuckles, then clears her throat.

“Yeah. yeah I told him. Because he was the only one. Before you knew of my pregnancy”

“Are you going to tell the others?” she asks.

“I’m gonna have to” she mutters, “I’m gonna have to. Maybe now, or when everyone is here” she says again, looking down at the floor.

Rachel nods her head, “I know you're scared”.

Kate looks up at her.

“I know you’re scared, because it’s John’s, and Paige doesn’t like him. I know you’re scared that Paige might not love you anymore. That she might feel betrayed”.

Kate lets out a short breath, “Yeah, Yeah. I know she’ll be angry, but she’ll get over it because John is dead”.

As they're talking upstairs, downstairs in the dining room. Paige gets a lead on Joseph’s whereabouts, by hacking into the Hope County’s police system, and finding his location, or at least where he was in the last few days.

She wanted to tell Kate in a private conversation before she told anyone else.

She goes up stairs to Kate’s room, she’s about to knock on her door, but stops when she hears her, and Rachel talking.

As much as she doesn’t like eavesdropping.

She listens in on their conversation from the hallway, and regrets it.

“So when are you gonna tell them?!” Rachel asks Kate.

Kate sighs, “I’ll go downstairs in a bit, and tell them. Paige might hate me for it. But I just need to get it off my chest.”

Confused, Paige puts her ear to the closed door. Trying to hear what else is being said.

There’s a few moments of silence in the room.

“I can’t believe I’m carrying John Seed’s kid” she says, with so much frustration in her voice.

Paige hears this, and her blood starts to run cold.

“What?!?” she whispers to herself. Eyes wide.

“I’ve thought about abortion, but I can’t do that” she says, “I can just lie, and say it’s Wheaty’s kids. She won’t know”.

“Come on. Let’s go downstairs and tell the others” Rachel tells her in a reassuring voice.

Paige quickly goes back downstairs before they leave the room. She is fuming.

“Hey did you-” Kenny asks her before getting cut off by his angry wife.

“No!” she raises her voice, almost yelling.

He looks at the others confused, and back to his wife “Umm okay what’s wrong?!?”.

“Don’t worry you’ll find out in a few minutes!!!” she says angry, leaving the room to go outside.

Kate, and Rachel walk downstairs to the living room.

She clears her throat.

“Hey guys there’s something I want to tell you, and I want everyone in here”.

Everyone comes into the living room.

“Where’s Paige?!?” she asks.

“She went outside” Kenny says, “Paige!!”.

Paige walks back inside, arms crossed and angry. She takes a seat on the arm of the couch next to Kenny.

Kate takes a deep breath, “So what I wanted to tell you guys was-”

She gets cut off by her sister, “That you’re pregnant?!?”.

Kate’s eyes widened, and all of her color drained out of her body.

Everyone looks at Paige, and then back at Kate.

“Kate you’re pregnant?!?!” Mandy asks.

Paige stands up, “Yeah, she is. With John Seed’s kid!!!”.

A loud gasps between all of them. Everyone, staring at each other in shock. Heads turning to one another.

“But John Seed is dead!!!” Martin says.

“This was before his death. I’m guessing. Am I right Kate?!?” she asks.

She nods her head, “Yeah. Yeah it was the night before I killed him”.

“And you had sex with him. I knew, I shouldn’t have let you untie him.” she says, running her hand through her hair before placing them on her hips.

“Okay. So what if he got me pregnant!?!?!” she snaps at her, “He’s dead, and I can raise this child on my own”.

“Kate” Paige mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose, “That’s not the point. You’re carrying the spawn of John fucking Seed!!!!”.

Paige groans into her hands.

“And you were gonna lie, and tell us that it's Wheaty’s kid. Weren’t you?!?!”.

“He knew I was pregnant, and he knows it's John’s. He told me that he wouldn’t mind being a stepfather to the child”.

Everyone looks back, and forth at the two sisters.

“He also told me he wants to be there for the both of us” she says, placing her hand on her belly.

Paige looks out the window, her back to the others.

Everything felt like it was moving painfully slow. Time freezing, slowing down. After a few minutes, she turns back around, and says.

“No more lies Katella, okay? I’m sick of it. I tell you everything, and I mean everything. You gotta do the same with me. From this day on there will be no more lying, keeping things from me, or bending the truth, and everything in between.”

Kate nods her head, “Okay”.

“And not just this. From the time when you lost your soul, getting a hit on demon blood, saying “Yes” to Lilith, and not saving me in Hell. Everything!!. You promise?!”.

Tears begin to stream down Paige’s face, and Kate’s as well.

She nods her head once again, “Okay. Okay I promise”.

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agrestebug · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Go

Hey everyone! Sorry I haven’t posted in a bit, I have had A LOT going on. So, here’s a one-shot from a prompt on the Miraculous Discord Server. Shout out to @Leo is engaged to Chise! who posted the prompt! Cross posted on FFN and Ao3! Please don’t repost without my permission! Otherwise, enjoy!

Adrien got out of the car with a bright smile of anticipation on his face. He had spoken to Lila at the photoshoot about hurting Marinette and getting her expelled. It had felt good to stand up for his friend. He knew she would never cheat, hurt, or steal from someone else. The fact that it seemed like everyone, including the teachers, believed it, blew his mind. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that they so easily believed Lila’s lies.

He hurried up the steps, but that was all going to change today. Lila was going to fix this mistake, and Marinette would be back. He’d be able to see her bright smile, and everything would go back to normal. School just, wasn’t the same without Marinette.

He could see it in the faces of all his classmates after only a single day. They all missed her.

He saw Ivan’s large figure first, and then noticed the rest of his classmates spread out near the locker-room door. He headed straight towards Nino, who was hugging a highly upset Alya down the hall off to the side.

“Alya, what’s the matter? Is everything okay?” He asked hurriedly, seeing Nino’s frown deepen.

Alya shook her head but fresh tears streamed down her face. His eyes widened and he looked at Nino, not sure of what to do to help.

Nino let Alya bury her face in his chest before finally looking up to catch his confused stare, “It’s, Marinette.”

Alya sobbed harder and he froze, his stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots, “Marinette, is she okay? She’s not hurt is she?”

Nino shook his head, “No, not in the way you think man. She’s… she’s being permanently expelled.”

Alya said it angrily through her tears, “It's not fair! I know she didn’t do it. She would have never stolen test answers, or that necklace. Marinette would never hurt anyone, and she couldn’t have done it, she couldn’t have!”

Adrien frowned, more confused than before at Alya’s outburst. “I don’t understand. I thought they were supposed to be looking into it,”

Nino glared in the direction of the locker room, “Lila came to school today with a busted lip, bruises on her arms, and a cut under one of her eyes. She said that Marinette cornered her after school yesterday and did that to her, for outing her about stealing the necklace.”

A strong burn started in his chest. He turned away from them and ran over to his other classmates, most of whom were crowded around Lila protectively. He caught her cold green stare, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth that made everything in sight go red.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he pointedly turned away from her in silence, going straight for the locker room doors. He threw them open more forcefully than he knew he should have, but right now he didn’t care, “Marinette!”

His heart thundered in his chest. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Marinette was really packing up her locker. She barely glanced in his direction when Principle Damocles told him, “Mister Agreste, you will leave this room at once.”

He ignored Principle Damocles, his voice taking on a pleading tone as he asked her, “Please, you can’t do this, you can’t just leave. Tell them the truth, tell them you didn’t do it.”

Miss Bustier let out a soft sigh, “Adrien, I understand that you are Marinette’s friend, but there is physical proof of an altercation that happened on school grounds. At this point, all of our hands are tied.”

“Marinette,” he whispered, watching with a heavy heart as she closed the now empty locker and put her bag over her shoulder. She stared at the floor, avoiding his eyes. “Marinette, tell them you didn’t do it.” He begged.

She looked up at him, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. She headed towards him, and his stomach did another uncomfortable twist as she stopped just past him, whispering it sounding so defeated. It tore his heart out.

“Goodbye Adrien.”

He stood there stunned as her footsteps moved away from him, tears burning his eyes. He quickly turned, forcing them to stay back. He nearly called out to her again, but he noticed how she stood taller now, not glancing once in the direction of their classmates. Most of them were frowning at her, and she didn’t say a word to anyone.

“Isn’t, Isn’t anyone going to try and stop her?” He asked them.

Kim said it with an edge of harshness, protectively hovering near Lila, “Can’t you see what she did to Lila? Marinette’s not the person we thought she was.”

“You can’t seriously think,”

“It’s true Adrien.” Lila whimpered, “You are such a good person, don’t let someone like her drag you down. She was only pretending to be friends with everyone.”

He walked up to her slowly, taking her hand and seeing the triumph in her eyes. He cupped her cheek, running his thumb gently over where her cut was before telling her again, “I warned you.”

She dropped his hand and he moved back, shaking his head, “I should have known better.”

He moved away from everyone, but hesitated when he saw Marinette making her way down the hall towards Nino and Alya. Alya’s cries were easily heard as the two best friends hugged as though they’d never see each other again. Nino hugged Marinette next, and she gave the two of them a sad smile before waving at them and turning to leave.

Adrien felt sick, watching his friends being torn apart this way. He didn’t bother turning back to the others, knowing that not one of them was going to stand up for Marinette. After everything she had done, for all of them, not one of them was going to stand at her side and defend her. They were going to just let her leave, without so much as a word. It was no wonder she hadn’t said anything to the group when she walked out. He wondered what they had said to her, or if they had said anything at all.

He took a small step towards his friends. Alya cried into her hands, not able to watch her best friend being escorted out of their school, and wishing that it was nothing more than a bad illusion. Nino pulled his cap down over his eyes, feeling helpless that there was nothing he could do to stop this, and that he hadn’t been able to shield Marinette from Lila’s lies the way she deserved.

Adrien felt his head starting to shake in denial. This wasn’t happening. He refused to let it happen. “Marinette,” he whispered, saying it louder as his feet started moving, “Marinette! Don’t go!”

He ran back down the hall, Nino grabbing him before he could cross where they were standing, “Dude, there is nothing we can do.”

“She can’t go!” He fought to get out of Nino’s, somehow weirdly strong, grip, “She can’t leave! She would have never done this, she couldn’t have done this!” He cried out, seeing Miss Bustier put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder to stop her.

Her voice had the slightest bit of hope left, “Adrien, unless you can absolutely prove that Marinette wasn’t the one who hurt Lila,”

“She couldn’t have done it because she was with me!” He blatantly lied as his breath came out in hard pants, knowing how he was going to get her out of this.

“I met up with Marinette right after school, and she spent the afternoon with me.” He said confidently, hearing a few whispers start behind him.

Marinette turned, her bluebell eyes instantly locked with his. He pleaded through his eyes as he said it clearly, “No one knew we were going to meet up, and I lied to my bodyguard about my fencing lesson. It was cancelled yesterday but I used that time to meet up with Marinette.”

Miss Bustier asked her instantly, “Marinette, is this true?”

Marinette’s voice shook, “Adrien,”

“The akuma attack,” he said, interrupting her, “we hid under the bridge where André had been while waiting for the akuma to pass us. Ladybug and Chat Noir told us to get to safety, and Chat Noir made a pun about burning bridges.”

He smiled at her, seeing her eyes widen. Her voice was barely audible, “And, Ladybug, she… scolded Chat Noir, and bopped him on the head with her yoyo.”

He smiled wider, glad that she was playing along before her words really registered with him. For once, he had to work to keep the smile firmly planted on his face. There was no way, there was no way she could have known that Ladybug had done that to him after his amazing burning bridges pun. Not unless…

Marinette was shaking her head as she stared at him. Her hand automatically went to her earrings, and he knew in that move that it was the truth.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, just as an excuse to bring his hand up to fiddle with the ring where she’d be able to see it. He saw the realization in her eyes, and he said it firmly, “That was a disaster of a date, but it was ours, the first of what I hope is so many more.”

“You really mean it?” Marinette asked, not able to hold back her tears any longer.

“Of course. I’ve always meant it.” He told her honestly, not a single piece of doubt left in his heart, “You’ve always been there, whenever me, or anyone else needs you. You protect your friends, and you’d never intentionally hurt someone. Even someone who has been threatening you for months.”

Principle Damocles and Miss Bustier both stared at him in shock, “What exactly are you saying Mister Agreste?”

Adrien unwillingly tore his gaze away from Marinette, and the true anger in his voice didn’t stay hidden, “I don’t know how she did it, but I know that Lila is trying to frame Marinette. Marinette told me a few months ago, in tears, that there was a girl here at school who was threatening to take all of her friends from her,” he glanced at her sheepishly, “including me, specifically, because she knew Marinette’s feelings towards me. It wasn’t until more recently when I realized that person was Lila. I didn’t realize how badly it had actually gotten…”

He looked at Marinette apologetically, saying it heavily, “I’m so sorry I didn’t say something before. I should have known, I should have realized,”

“No, no Adrien, don’t apologize.” Marinette told him instantly, “You were always there when I needed you,” she smiled slightly as another tear fell from her eye, “You and me against the world. Right?”

He nodded with a soft smile, filling with overwhelming love for the girl who had his heart, mask or no mask, “You and me against the world princess.”

Miss Bustier asked her quickly, “Marinette, can you prove you were with Adrien?”

When Marinette stayed quiet, he stared down at his hands, trying to think of anything that they could use as proof. He noticed a smudge of something on his thumb, and frowned at it as he looked closer. He rubbed the dark substances between his fingers, and knew it instantly.

“Miss Bustier, she doesn’t have to prove it.” He lifted his hand to show her, “Lila’s wounds aren’t real. It’s make-up.”

Principle Damocles moved over to him quickly, seeing the make-up tinge his fingers before loudly calling out to her, “Miss Rossi, a moment.”

Miss Bustier moved her hand from Marinette’s shoulder with a smile, and as Lila approached them slowly, a small limp in her step, she asked innocently, “Yes sir?”

“Would you mind showing me the bruises on your arms?” He asked, his serious expression leaving no room for her to refuse. Lila made a show of slowly taking off her jacket, showing off the large purplish bruises on her body. Principle Damocles pulled a handkerchief from his front pocket, smearing one of the larger bruises the second the handkerchief made contact. He showed the stain to Lila, and her eyes widened in horror.

“So, she cornered and threatened you before engaging in a physical altercation, did she?” He asked.

Lila stayed silent and Principle Damocles told her, “My office, immediately.”

“But she did threaten me!” Lila tried, “She was the one who told me she would make everyone hate me. I was trying to protect myself!”

“I’ll hear no more of this. You can explain everything when your mother gets here. Miss Bustier, please escort Lila to my office.”

Miss Bustier looked at Lila sadly, but Lila was absolutely furious, “She stole test answers and hurt me once before. She even stole my grandmother’s necklace! You are going to take her side just because Adrien,”

“Mister Agreste has no reason to lie, however given his statement, I can see why you’d try to get Miss Dupain-Cheng expelled.” He frowned, “I’ve seen teenagers do a lot of terrible things when it comes to figuring out love, but I’ve never had a student try to so thoroughly ruin another’s life.”

“She is ruining mine!” Lila yelled, and Miss Bustier told her calmly, “Let’s go Lila.”

“No! This is unacceptable!” Lila pulled away from Miss Bustier’s outstretched hand and glared at Marinette, “I won’t let you get away with this. You aren’t going to threaten me anymore!”

He stood in her way with a hard scowl, blocking Marinette from her sight, “You’ll have to go through me first.”

Lila was shocked long enough for Miss Bustier to start pulling her away, and Principle Damocles turned back to Marinette, “We will get this sorted, and get the matter cleared up at once.”

“Does this mean, I’m not expelled anymore?” Marinette asked unsure.

“We’ll discuss that with you and your parents tomorrow, after we’ve spoken to Miss Rossi and her daughter. Enjoy the rest of your day Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He told her, already sounding apologetic for everything that had happened so far.

Marinette nodded at him, and Principle Damocles disappeared towards his office. Not a second later Alya had her arms around Marinette again, “I knew it, I knew you could have never done something like that!”

Marinette openly started crying, hugging Alya back tightly, “Never, no matter what she threatened to do.”

Nino gave him a soft punch on the arm, “Way to go mister knight in shining armor.”

He smiled slightly, “I couldn’t let Lila do this to her, not anymore.”

“Dude, I can’t believe you lied to your pops and took Marinette on a date without telling me. I would have had your back you know.” Nino told him.

“It was, kind of, last minute.” He lied with a little more difficulty. In the heat of the moment, the almost-lie had been easy. Directly lying was harder when all he wanted to do was run over to Marinette and beg her to forgive him for being such an idiot all this time.

He closed his eyes heavily, and almost instantly felt another body slam into his. His hands instantly went to the source before wrapping around her when her familiar scent filled him with the warmth he had always felt from her.

“Marinette.” He whispered longingly.

“Adrien,” she whispered back, crying into his chest, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was you, it’s always been you, and everything that makes you who you are.”

He held her tighter, squeezing his eyes shut before he could cry, “I love you, m’lady.” He whispered.

She hugged him tighter, pulling back just far enough to look into his eyes, “I love you, Kitty.”

His voice came out raspy, “I, I really want to,”

Her lips met his, and sparks ignited, spreading to every part of his being. He kissed her back instantly, getting lost in the girl he knew he would love for the rest of his life.

#itsagrestebug #oneshot #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #miraculous discord #fic prompts #sept 2020 #My love for them will never die

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thenovelartist · 5 years ago

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A Bride for the Prince, chapter 1

OMG! It’s here :D My collab with @chocoluckchipz! We had fun writing this, so hope you all enjoy! :D

AO3 ~ Next>

This was a crazy, foolish, idiotic plan.

And Marinette was utterly ashamed to admit it was hers.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Mylene said as she shoved another dress in her luggage.

“Nor can I,” Marinette agreed. “I could get hanged for pretending to be you.”

“You won’t get found out,” Mylene said, though the nervousness on her face proved she had less confidence in her words than it seemed. “You’re the luckiest girl I know. Like a walking lucky charm.”

Marinette scoffed disbelievingly. “With my luck, the prince will end up picking me.”

“No offence, Marinette,” Mylene said with a half-smile, “but not even all the luck in the world can fix the fact you’re a total klutz.”

“Hey!” Marinette sent her an exaggerated pout. “I resent that.”

Mylene giggled before struggling to shove her luggage shut.

“Here,” Marinette said, crawling up on the bed so she could sit on the chest, allowing Mylene to snap it shut with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I hoped you packed everything you needed.”

“Mostly everything I wanted,” Mylene said. “Ivan promised to spoil me once we’re married.”

With a grin, Marinette slowly shook her head. “I can barely believe that the timid Lady Bug—”

“I am not timid!” she cried.

“And I’m not a klutz.”

Mylene couldn’t stay mad for long. “Fine. My passing out at the first sight of Ivan at a party—one I wasn’t supposed to be at, mind you; I can be daring when I wish—was not my finest moment. But it did lead us together.”

“That, and the fact no other girl wanted to be anywhere close, nevertheless courting, the intimidating Lord Stoneheart.”

Mylene huffed. “The name doesn’t suit him. He’s nothing but a softy.”

“I think only you could have figured that out. I still can’t believe he writes songs for you. No one else would believe it either.”

Mylene’s smile was more of a cringe. “Don’t tell him I said this, but while writing lyrics are a talent, singing them is not.”

The girls burst into giggles, recalling the last time that Ivan had ‘sung’ his lyrics to Mylene. “All the servants in earshot came running, wondering what he was screaming about,” Marinette laughed, remembering how she’d happen to be one of them.

“But the lyrics were sweet,” Mylene defended through her giggles. “Even though I could hardly tell when he was screaming them.”

The girls shared another round of laughter.

“I still can’t believe he asked me to marry him,” Mylene said, her voice dreamy.

“I can,” Marinette said. “He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world.”

“He does not,” Mylene lamely countered.

“Well, then, like you’re the only one who matters,” Marinette corrected. “What I can’t believe is that your father said no when he asked for your hand.”

Mylene’s expression fell. “I think it was only because the prince had sent out his invitations right before that.”

Marinette scoffed. “Invitations,” she spat. “As though they were a choice. It was demanded that you go to the castle and partake in this stupid tradition. Furthermore, it was the king who demanded it, not the prince himself. To think, women all over the kingdom competing to be the Prince’s birthday gift.” Marinette’s nose crinkled in disgust.

“I know. It’s insulting, really,” Mylene agreed. “But don’t worry. I’m sure that everything will be fine for you.”

“I hope so,” Marinette said. “Because we don’t exactly look alike.”

“Like I’ve told you, no one has seen me, not at the capital at least,” Mylene assured. “I’m seventeen and haven’t been properly presented yet. You know I only met Ivan through a chance encounter. People only know what my father looks like, and no one would think twice that you’re his daughter.”

“I certainly hope so, or else this is never going to work.”

“It was your plan.”

“It was a joke!” Marinette cried. “I didn’t think you’d actually think about going through with it.”

“But it was a good plan.”

Marinette frowned. “You’re lucky I adore you as a friend or else I would have talked you out of it.”

Sheepishly, Mylene shrugged. “Thank you?”

Marinette could only keep up the frown for a moment longer before it gave way into a grin. “You’re welcome.”

…

That night, Ivan came to collect his bride. His carriage was a small one and, most importantly, was quiet. He’d been instructed not to come up to the front of the house, instead hiding a little ways away. Marinette felt bad for the two servants who had to haul Mylene’s heavy trunk through the night and out to the awaiting carriage. However, they assured the girls that one trunk was far better than several smaller ones.

When they met Ivan and his carriage, he instructed his own servants to grab the trunk and place it in the carriage. Marinette watched with a grin as Ivan then greeted Mylene, embracing her tightly and placing a tender kiss into her hair.

Marinette felt her heart flutter at the sweet sight. Ivan, though awkward and quiet and seemingly living up to his name as Lord Stoneheart, turned into a gentle giant the moment Mylene was around. He would be a good husband to her.

They soon came out of their own little world to turn to Marinette. “Thank you again,” Mylene said, reaching out to grab Marinette’s hands tightly. “I can’t say it enough. Thank you for doing this for me.”

Marinette gave Mylene’s hands a squeeze. “You can’t risk the prince choosing you, nor do I think you can stand being away from Ivan that long. Don’t worry; I’ll be okay.”

In an instant, Mylene tugged Marinette into a hug. “I know you will. Thank you, my friend.”

It took a moment for Marinette to recover and return her friend’s hug. “You’re welcome.”

With one last squeeze, Mylene stepped away. Ivan was quick to approach, taking Marinette’s hands in his. “I can’t thank you enough, either,” he said. “For everything you’ve done for us throughout our courtship and for what you’re doing now. I’ll take good care of Mylene, I swear.”

“I know you will, Ivan,” she assured. “It’s the only reason I’m doing this.”

His smile brightened. “After this whole prince competition is over,” he began, “and you have been freed to return home, come to Stonebreak Hall. You can return to your position as Mylene’s lady’s maid.”

From behind Ivan, Marinette could see Mylene frantically nod her head in a way that was less in agreement and more begging. Marinette grinned. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to do so as soon as I’m released. I look forward to seeing Mylene again, and I’ll be interested to see Stonebreak Hall.”

Ivan’s grin widened as he bowed over her hands. “We’ll forever be indebted to you, Marinette. I wish you the best of luck.”

Marinette smiled. “Well, Lady Bug doesn’t call me a lucky charm for nothing.”

Ivan chuckled.

“Now, you two should go.”

“You’re right,” Ivan said. “Come tomorrow, we will have a private ceremony in the church. The planned wedding can’t be held until after the Prince’s ridiculous competition for a bride is over and ‘Lady Bug’ has been released.”

Marinette grinned. “The month will be over before you know it. Now, be off!”

“Thank you again,” Ivan said, releasing Marinette’s hands in favor of taking Mylene’s.

“Yes,” Mylene agreed. “Thank you, Marinette.”

Marinette grinned. “You’re welcome, my friend.”

…

It was extremely nerve-wracking, more so than Marinette had thought. Even though Lord Bug had left two days ago on business, she still held a fear she’d be caught.

She hoped her parents wouldn’t be mad. She’d left a note addressed to them stating that she was with Mylene and perfectly safe and assured them they didn’t need to worry about her. She knew they would anyway, so she did briefly explain with the warning to keep it a secret for as long as they could and to please not worry about her.

“There’s no going back now,” Marinette mumbled to herself as she watched the manor she’d served in for years slowly shrink. While the point of no return was actually behind her, she had to remind herself that this was happening whether she liked it or not. Mylene had been kind enough to give her enough training to hopefully get Marinette through her time at the castle. “And if you aren’t certain,” Mylene had said, “make sure to watch the other ladies and copy what they do. And you must remember, you are equals, not their servant. They can’t tell you what to do.”

It was useful advice. However, it was pointless if Marinette was the only “Lady” around. Such as right now as they arrived at the castle after a few days’ journey. Her heart was pounding as she looked at the sight before her. There was certainly no going back now. She was in the thick of it.

“Lady Bug has arrived!” someone shouted just before one of the servants Mylene had bribed opened the carriage door for her.

She gave a quiet thank you before stepping out of the carriage, which allowed her a better look at the castle. She did her best not to gape, but honestly, she’d never seen a building so huge and imposing before. She’d never felt so small.

However, she forced her shoulders back and held her head up high. As far as anyone here knew, she was a lady, and therefore, she would act as one. She ignored the servants behind her taking away her luggage and followed yet more servants into the castle.

She tried to not show too much interest in the architectural designs of the castle, however, she was certain she failed. It was breathtaking. Not only were the ceilings tall and walls ornate, but the sculptures and paintings and tapestries… all the colors and details to look at…

It was overwhelming.

“I’m sure that after the journey you’ve had, Lady Bug, that you’re quite exhausted,” one of the servants said.

“Oh.” She quickly snapped out of her thoughts. “Yes, quite,” she admitted.

“Then allow us to show you to your room. We can postpone the tour for after you’ve rested.”

Marinette almost spoke up that she wasn’t tired enough and that she would love a tour, but she didn’t feel confident in doing so. “Thank you.”

“Have you no lady’s maid?” the man asked.

It felt like a rock sank to her stomach. “U-unfortunately,” Marinette said, hoping her voice would be steady as she concocted a story. “My lady’s maid quit just recently, leaving me without one.”

“One will be provided for you, then,” the servant said. He stopped in front of a room. With a bow, he motioned toward it. “This will be your room, Lady Bug.”

“Thank you.” She barely resisted the habit of curtsying and instead walked into the room to hide her embarrassment. However, that embarrassment lasted only a second as she admired the guest room. It was as large as Mylene’s room, with a bed just as large and comfortable-looking.

“Is it too your liking?” the servant asked after a moment of silence.

“Oh,” Marinette said, turning back to the servant. “Yes, quite. Thank you.” How could it not be? It was absolutely stunning.

The man gave a smile then a bow. “Then we will leave you to rest. I will immediately find a lady’s maid to serve you. Shall I send her up immediately?”

“No need,” Marinette assured. “But thank you.”

“Very well then.” With that, the man left, shutting the door behind him.

Which allowed Marinette the privacy to squeal and gawk over the room she was in. Everything was shades of red, from the blanket over the bed to the curtains covering the huge windows to the pillows on the lounge to the flowers that decorated the room. Marinette was now wide awake as she examined everything. No detail escaped her from the patterned fabric on the lounge to the rug beneath her feet.

Suddenly, it hit her that this was a guest room. For guests.

She could only imagine the rooms the royal family had.

She had to see the rest of the castle. Curiosity was blazing within her, and she would not be satisfied until she explored the place.

With an excited giggle, she slipped from her room and began down the hallway, examining everything from the draperies to the paintings on the intricately decorated walls. She gasped and gaped at everything. Never in her life had she seen anything so fine. The manor she grew up in was a place she once considered lavish, but compared to the castle, it was simple. Never in her life would Marinette had thought she’d think such a thought, but she was shocked at how true it was, particularly as she walked the halls of the castle where beauty was dripping from every corner.

In hindsight, Marinette should have kept her head from running away with her. It would have prevented her from running into someone. In her fright and haste to back up, she tripped over her dress, hearing something rip as she tumbled to the floor. “I’m so sorry!” she squeaked out.

Any other words died on her tongue the moment she caught sight of the person she ran into. He wore a mask over his eyes, which Marinette found extremely odd. Yet, she caught sight of the green and purple crest on his black uniform and realized he must be a guard.

The man in all black chuckled before extending a hand down to help her. “No harm done.”

“Forgive me,” she said, her heart pounding nervously. She forced herself to swallow, her mouth very dry. “I should have looked where I was going and then I wouldn’t have run into you and I’m so sorry.” And that’s when her gut sank to the floor and air swooshed out of her lungs as she caught sight of several more men all dressed in the same manner behind him. “I… I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?”

With a grin, he shook his head as he grabbed her tentatively outstretched hand and assisted her up. “No. We were just having a little meeting and were just about to disperse.”

“Oh,” was all she was able to say. She stared longer than was necessary before looking down at her hand and realizing he never let it go. Her cheeks warmed as she pulled her hands away and took a step back, only to step on the torn edge of her skirt that nearly caused her to stumble again.

He reached out, ready to catch her, but upon seeing she was steady, he grinned and relaxed. “Maybe I should escort you around so you don’t have another incident, my lady.”

Everything from her chest to her cheeks flared with heat. “No! I mean, no. That’s not necessary. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

“It’s okay,” he quickly assured. “Like I said, we were just about to disperse. I’m certain you’re new here because I’ve seen all the other ladies, but I don’t recall having seen you.”

“I just arrived today,” she admitted.

“That would explain it,” the man said with a smile. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Mar—” She paused. “I mean, Lady Bug.”

“Ah,” he said with a nod, his smile growing wide with amusement. “Well, then, Ladybug, I’m known as Chat Noir. Pleasure to meet you.”

From over his shoulder, Marinette watched another masked man roll his head in exasperation before marching off, taking the rest of the men with him. It put Marinette slightly ill at ease to be alone with him, but he was a guard employed by the king. Surely, he was respectable.

“Have you seen the castle yet?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Well then,” he said, smile brightening. “Allow me to show you around.”

“You don’t have to,” she said. “I’m certain you’re plenty busy—”

“Nonsense,” he assured, extending an elbow for her to take. “Allow me to show you around. It looked like you were enjoying looking around, so maybe I can enrich your tour with stories about the artwork and architecture.”

She swallowed, trying to smile without it looking forced. “The castle is truly extravagant. Perhaps I did get a little carried away in my admiration,” she slowly said, embarrassment coming back.

His grin was prideful. “Then I should most definitely take it upon myself to show you around. We wouldn’t want the lovely Ladybug to get lost, now would we?”

She simply shook her head as Chat Noir took her hand and wrapped it over his elbow.

“Good.” His eyes seemed to glimmer behind the mask. “Then let’s start the tour.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #A Bride for the Prince #collab with ChocoluckChips #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #meet cute #mylene haprele #Ivan Bruel #oh boy here we go

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