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toiletwipes · 3 years ago

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and i'd give up forever to touch you

extra chapter. all i can breathe is your life.

Summary: It's discount, disco Tuesday and you've decided to drag Wilbur along too!

~3.4k words. masterlist.

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he finds himself wrapped in one of your adventures, you being determined to find inspiration to keep writing music and living life the way you always loved. he didn't get any of it, but you were his friend, and he didn't mind all that much when it was you.

at the moment, you'd taken him out for a drive, refusing to tell him where you'd be going but beforehand you'd painted shapes onto both of your faces, with neon green and yellow and pink paint. diamond and hearts on yours, clubs and spades on his, not to mention the outfit you demanded he wear. demanded is a loose term, you merely gave him a look, puppy dog eyes, and he folded like a lawn chair.

the paint had dried and left his face feeling itchy but every time he raised a hand, you'd slap it down. "if i have to hold your hand, i will, don't test me, will." you had teased but you definitely felt your breath stutter at the thought, and he wasn't fairing that much better. holding hands?

much to his surprise, he found himself standing in a short line for roller skates, lights dim and people skating in a large rink. you had paid for the tickets and everything, insisting all he had to do was skate. how hard could it be?

for him, unnecessarily.

the moment he stood up with the skates tied to his feet, he could barely stand still, threatening to fall over in three different directions. his long legs have finally backfired on him from all the times he's mocked you for being shorter.

but you, you glided through the air, stopping by his side as you steady him, a little giggle in your breath. and he could see the outfit and the paint coming together. while everything else had dimmed, the paint and clothes glowed. and you didn't look so bad like this.

not to mention the skirt you chose for tonight, with shorts underneath of course, but it was hard to remind himself that you're just friends.

that you didn't wear it for him, why would you when you're just friends?

he whines inside of his head, so cruel, as you help him to the edge of the rink, holding onto the wall. most of the skaters stay close to the inside of the circle, lucky for you two as you guide him to the edge of it, feeling the breeze from everyone.

you cut slide backwards as you hold both of his hands and guide him through the motions. "just one foot in front of the other, like you're sweeping dirt behind your feet." you say, but as he tries to kick his feet, he trips himself and falls into you. you curse as you both tumble to the ground, wilbur's face shoved into your stomach and your knees wedged into his armpits.

"you okay?" you call over the music, ignoring the slight ache in your elbows and butt, patting his shoulder.

he lifts his head and is met with your face staring him down and all he can see is the paint and the whites in your eyes glowing. and he can't think, nothing processing. is that what a god looks like, he vaguely hears in the back of his mind.

"wilbur?"

without another second to think, he's scrambling off of you, as much as he can with the skates tied to his feet still, but he can see a slight impression from the paint, somehow, in your white shirt.

you don't notice, only snickering as you pull yourself to your feet and he just so happened to be looking up and oh fuck.

he can see up your fucking skirt.

and it doesn't matter that you're wearing shorts, because he's still fucking looking. until he covers his eyes and attempts to stand without any aide. god, he knew he was a pervert but shit. not that he could forget the sight when it's burnt in the inside of his eyelids.

"oh my god, you're so stupid," you laugh and tug on his arms, and drag him back to the wall, getting him to stand eventually.

he groans, leaning his forehead against the wall with both of his hands gripping the sides as tight as he can, "how am i supposed to skate if i can't even make it past the entrance? what was the point of bringing me?" he says, looking up at you as you survey the area, and you just shrug, a small smile playing at your lips.

"it was a discount tonight, figured you'd might enjoy learning," and you're tugging his arms again, looping one of your arms into his to help guide him. "and besides, you'll never learn if all you do is mope and whine about it!" and you press on his back and chest, getting him to stop slouching and telling him how to balance his weight the best way for him, before nudging him forward and watching his arms lock up, feet straight as they roll right towards the chairs lining the walls.

he falls to his knees when he reaches the chairs, and you don't hesitate in calling him dramatic, stopping right in front of him as he pulls himself to sit.

"i think-" he gulps down air like it's water, "i think i'll sit here for- for a minute." you try to pull him up but he shakes his head, insists that you get a headstart into skating, he'll probably figure it out after watching you do it anyways.

you skate away, only after he reassures you once more he's more than okay sitting for a moment.

and you make it look more than easy. you skate across the glossy floor like it was made of butter, weaving your way in and out of the crowd as if you had places to be. and in a brief moment with no one in front of you, you slow down, arms lowered to your side as you enjoy the chilled air, a smile growing as you begin to move your legs and arms again, doing two more laps before you come back to wilbur.

he doesn't have much to say.

"wow."

and he just accepts the punch to his shoulder, rubbing out the ache as you laugh.

"it's just practice, that's all it is."

"you probably practiced like a professional, knowing you." he teases, eyes flickering from the endless moving mass, glowing in the darkness and back to you.

"to be fair, my parents loved taking me here as a kid, didn't help that they knew the owners," you shrug, chest heaving a little bit as you spoke, your breath not yet even.

"that does help," he says, fingers pressing into his knees as he briefly wonders when this place will close. not that he's not having fun, it's just that he doesn't know how to skate at all. and maybe it doesn't help that skating comes to you like breathing does. "so what's-"

"-alright, skaters, it's time for the first special skate, the couples round, if all the single people could please safely exit the rink-"

"oh that's our cue," he says and as he stands you tell him to just hold onto your shoulders, you'll lead him out of the rink. but just as you get to the halfway point, you're singled out.

"to the strange couple, please refer to the default hand-holding, and not the conga, thank you,"

your brain short-circuits to the point where you miss the exit and, on accident, rejoin the circling mass of skaters. wilbur, who's right beside you, is panicking.

"y/n- i can't- i can't do this- i can't skate," and he's breathing too hard as his limbs begin to lock up, you shake out of your stupor and gently take his hand into your own and try to distract him, going from telling him you believe in him, telling him to just bend his knees and you'll guide him like before. then you offer something else up.

"if we get through this lap, we'll do anything you want and i can't say no," you tell him, and it's unbelievably hard to say anything but yes please get me out of there.

and all he can get out is a strained yes, quiet as anything over the music that reverberates through their chests, over the sound of the wheels against the floor.

but you guide him through it, slow and towards the outside of the rink, where most of the couples weren't, and its painful to watch him stiff as anything, barely holding himself together. but as the time passes, you find yourself back at the exit, and he doesn't hesitate to latch onto the closest free table and sit down. he's swallowing mouthfuls of air, maybe a little bit dramatic you humor to yourself, but for the most part he looks tired already.

you stand next to him, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. "you did so good, wilbur, you made it," he doesn't say anything as he leans his head back as you work your fingers through small tangles. doesn't say anything as the praise burns at his groin, and hopes the dim lights and his physical exhaustion covers the fact that he might have a praise kink.

you lean down to whisper in his ear, "alright, we got through it, what would you like to do now?" and it takes a lot for him to hold back begs and whimpers, but he manages to say something along the lines of food.

you lead him back to your original table with your shoes sitting on top, you ask him if he wants to take the skates off and he doesn't even hesitate to pull them off as soon as he's sitting again. you have to laugh, but then his head rolls around his shoulders and looks at you with dark eyes and it catches in your throat.

eyes wide and mouth open, he knows that this view is dangerous, but keeps looking. though, you seem to pull yourself together and give yourself a thorough shake, your fingers, hands, arms, and torso wiggle in your seat. shaking off whatever it was that had you frozen.

"alright, come with me to get food?" you ask and he nods, standing up and finds that standing without a death machine strapped to his feet is much easier now. with the challenge gone, he starts to walk and then finds you latching onto his elbow with glowing, puppy dog eyes. "drag me?" you pout and he gives in, so easily, you wonder if he would ever say no to you.

your skates facing straight, he pulls you down the pathway between tables and finds himself at a bar area, you barely stopping from slamming into his sides, and he has to wrap an arm around you to settle you still.

you stay still alright, his arms warm from the exertion, and the slight sheen coating his skin makes you want to wring him out like a hand towel and at the same time, you want more than his arm around you.

but you're not toeing the lines of your relationship right now, you're fucking ordering food.

"what can i get for you today?" you skim over the menu above the employee's head, and will answers him curtly, you responding just as quick, handing over the right amount before waiting for the food itself by the edge of the bar.

you lean your knuckles into your cheek, breathing out a dramatic sigh to get wilbur's divided attention. he barely turns around at the sound of another sigh and by then, he's got an unimpressed look printed on his features.

"what is it going to take for you to loosen up? you move as if your bones are popsicle sticks held together by glue."

"you don't know my bones," is all he says before nodding to the employee handing him his chips and water, not even wasting a second before opening the bottle and drinking half of it to soothe the dry itch in his throat.

"you didn't answer my question, will," you inch closer to him to sing it in his ear, but he turns his face to look at you, instead of forward, and you're now nose-to-nose, so close together, just barely a breath's distance.

your breath hitches and he hears it, above everything else, he hears it and just barely closes his eyes and closes the distance. you don't move until you realize where you were again, and you're pushing on his shoulders, skating across the floor with the bag of pretzels and bottle of water in your hand. wilbur walks behind you confused, more along the lines of afraid of the car ride home where you inevitably stop talking to him and demand he never speak to you again. had he read all the signs wrong? did you hate him?

you yank the shoes off your feet, taking the pair and wilbur's to the front, pulling on your converse as you left the rink with him trailing behind you, feeling more than ever like he fucked up. he knows he fucked up in his life before but it never felt as big as this.

the sky is dark and feels unforgiving as you, but you're taking the drinks and snacks and throwing them into the back without him saying anything.

and then you're closing the door and looking at him with your hands still open, as if you're still holding something, and he's about to ask a question, ask if you're okay or something like that, when you yank on the collar of his shirt and press your lips against his firmly, leaning your back against your car, hidden away from potential onlookers.

he braces himself with both hands landing on either side of you, your mouth distracting him more than he'd ever thought. fucking hell, he thinks, your lips soft, warm, and he can't help but chase after yours when you pull away for a second. you're looking at him with half-lidded eyes, and then you're leaning into him, hands sliding up to cusp his face, before tucking your head under his jaw and lips attaching to his neck, sucking and biting and soothing the bites with long swipes of your tongue.

wilbur feels so warm- so hot as you continue to leave hickey after hickey, it feels too good and he grinds his hips against yours, feeling a moan bubble in his throat when a hand covers his mouth, "don't let them know what we're up to, mkay?"

he almost whines beneath your hand but you're right back to his neck, pleasure spiking up in his spine every time you bite down and every time your tongue flattens against every lovebite.

eventually, the sound of the doors constantly swinging open and closed grabs your attention than the trembling man under your hands and mouth, leaning back as you look at the mess you made of him.

"wanna head home now?" you whisper, reaching up to push his hair out of his face, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

home. not your dorm, not his apartment, home.

he nods, barely holding it together as you lead him back to the passenger side, closing the door and heading towards the driver's, a little pep in your step. you nod at the other skaters leaving and they give a slight nod back, unbeknownst to the man you're slowly ruining that sits in your car.

getting in, you're faced with a mess. glancing at his neck, you reach back and down for something soft, pulling it up, you see it's your old jacket, something you had for years and… something to cover your friend in for now. "here, if you get cold, because i'm feeling hot." you hand it over to him, before turning the ac up all the way, cranking it to the maximum settings and feeling the bitter cold on your very warm skin.

it was an excuse, of course, but you weren't going to tell him that as you see him very quickly pull it over his head. had you gotten it in a size that fit you, it might not have fit his long torso, but oversized? perfect on him.

you don't see him pulling on the edge of the hoodie, breathing deeply as he could to take all of your scent in. something akin to weed and cinnamon. something home would smell like, he figures.

it takes twenty minutes before you reach the dorms, and it takes another minute before you're inside your designated one, finding rosie and jared curled into the sofa, jumping at every turn in the horror movie on the tv.

"we're back," you say, as you head into the kitchen and pull out another bottle of water, drinking it in as you're well aware of the eyes you have burning into your skin.

swallowing the last gulp, you throw away the empty bottle before looking the man in your hoodie in the eyes and seeing just the very edge of hickeys peek out from the collar. stepping close to him, you reach up to his face and grasp his chin fairly soft, pulling him down just enough to kiss him slow and deep. when you pull away, the dried paint is dripping slightly down his cheek. you swipe it away as his eyes stayed shut.

"we'll be in my room, call us if you need us," you say but they were too absolved in their scary movie, too busy to notice the man practically shaking under your touch.

leading him to your room, like the thousands of times before, and leading him to your bed like the thousands of times before, but this time you give the door a slight kick before it closes. this time you kiss him and let him press you into the bed, hands burning everywhere they touch on your skin.

the nerves in his body feels shot when you reach under the hoodie to press your cold fingers against his skin, pressing against his stomach and gasping into his mouth when he does the same, flicking your shirt up a little to dig his fingers into your hip.

pulling away to breathe, you slow down, your heart pounding against your chest as you come down from a high that you knew would become a problem later on. you lean your head back into a pillow as he slows down too, his sticky forehead against your bare shoulder.

"would-" your mouth sticks together but you push the words forward, "would you be okay if we went to sleep right now?"

you didn't want to ruin anything more than you already did. knowing yourself, you probably confused him. you knew he had feelings for rosie but damn it if you didn't try at least. now look at where it's got you.

you don't see him nod, only feeling the bed dip as he moves off of you and moving to lay down in front of you. he gives your arm a nudge and when you move it, he leans into you, curling into your side as he gives you no room to think. all you could think about was him.

breathing in his hair, you smelt the shampoo from before, the slight smell from the rink, and then the damp feeling of sweat stick to his hair.

yeah, you would need to shower again in the morning. and yeah, you'd probably need to talk about this again. but couldn't you at least enjoy the way he can't seem to leave you alone? Can't you relish in the fact that he wants to be near you and not her. letting you mark him up. you could enjoy it, if not for a second. for the moment, you could enjoy the feel of him grounding you.

as for him, he doesn't know how much luckier he can get. so as your breaths slow in between, he sticks his head into the crook of your neck, just breathing you in and relishing the close proximity he has once again.

he may not have gotten to bury himself inside you but this is fine all on its own, head feeling light from how close you are together.

he presses a kiss to your skin before letting himself sleep in your arms.

(you almost cry when you felt his lips against your collarbone. wondering if this is the modern version of torture and who's administering them from above.)

...

taglist: @fxnxtical @ghostburlovebot @ollie-overscore @roygbivvie @beehive-syst3m @boiled-onionrings @mayempress @bringm3th3n1rvana @yui-san0 @comonlokbut2 @lurkey-lurker @tiredofsatansbullshit @serendipityryn @facelessmatchstick @sewagespaghetti @dogsandrocketsocks @unhelpfulghosty @struggling-with-time

#c: simpbur #simpbur #simpbur x reader #simpbur x y/n #simpbur x you #au: college #simpbur smut #<- just incase

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

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Spoken For

Happy Lowman x F!Reader

Part 2 can be found Here

Request by @est1887: this is for my love happy. Y/N at a party it isn’t really her scene but she just tags along with her friend the sons are in attendance and she walking with her head down and bumps into happy and he knows her name she didn’t think anyone noticed her because she stayed to herself. Later on maybe the Same party maybe a different one someone is bothering her and she tells them her fiancé is happy “Tacoma killer” lowman lol you can do you thing of course switch it up whatever way you like thanks your the best fluffy and cute please 🥰🥰🥰 “No no no, sorry! I just-... I honestly didn’t think you even knew my name.” & “I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé.”

Warnings: language, alcohol, skeevy men

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This was really fun to write! I kind of like the sort of cluelessly protective side of Happy. Like, the man does not need the details of why you need his help he is just ready to throw down on your behalf regardless. Love that for him. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA/Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @adela-topaz-caelon @i-just-read-stuff @toni9

Large parties had never really been your thing. You weren’t a huge fan of the crowds and being around people you didn’t really know. Yet, somehow, your best had talked you into going to the SAMCRO clubhouse on more than one occasions for their parties. You never particularly grew to like them, but you managed to get through them. There was no way you were going to let your friend show up all by herself.

For the most part, you managed to successfully stay out of the fray. You watched the chaos unfold from the sidelines, keeping a constant eye on your friend without hovering too badly. Usually you were able to manage to make one beer last you all night, wanting to keep your wits about you.

The two of you had landed yourself in a group of the other girls who frequented the clubhouse parties. She knew them much better than you did, but they were always nice to you. Since she had a group to be with, a group that you figured would keep her safe for a few minutes, you excused yourself to step outside for a few minutes to get out of the suffocating cigarette smoke that was filling the clubhouse.

Your eyes were glued to the floor as you tried to maneuver your way through the crowd. You managed to slip through a few different groups of people mostly unnoticed, and you were about to make it to the door when someone’s shoulder collided with yours. You stumbled half a step before a hand firmly wrapped around your arm, keeping you from falling to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so—” you stopped short when you saw the person who had caught you, the person you shouldered, “Hey, Happy. Uh. Sorry, I just, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You leaving?” he asked, completely skipping over everything you had just said.

You shook your head, “No. Just, um, just stepping outside to get some fresh air. Besides,” you nodded over towards your friend, “I’m her ride. Can’t just bail.”

“You should watch where you’re stepping around here, Y/N,” his eyes intensely searched yours, “Don’t wanna step into something you can’t get out of.”

Part of you wondered if he ever responded to anything someone actually said to him, or if he was always just moving onto the next topic. That part of your brain was drowned out, though, by the part that was taking in the fact that he had just said your name. The way it rolled off his tongue snapped you to attention, “What?”

“Said you should watch your step,” his eyes narrowed slightly, “You good?”

“Yea! Sorry. I just…I honestly didn’t think you even knew my name.”

His head tilted slightly as he processed what you had said. He shrugged his shoulders, “Well. I do.”

You chuckled, face feeling hot for a moment, “Yea, apparently,” the two of you stood there in the midst of the chaos for a few more moments before you excused yourself, “Well, I’ll see you around.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything more as he disappeared into the throws of the party. You were silently shaking your head at yourself as you finally made it outside. The music was muffled when you were on the other side of the clubhouse walls, and it gave you some much needed respite from the overload inside. You sat down at the picnic table and took a deep breath, glad to have it not taste like smoke and alcohol.

You gave yourself a few minutes of peace and quiet before forcing yourself to head back inside. Things hadn’t calmed down at all in your absence, which was mildly disappointing. But you knew that you still had a few more hours before people would start to filter out and go off in their own directions. You made your way over to the bar and ordered a drink for yourself, saying thank you to the prospect behind the bar although you weren’t sure how well he could hear you above the noise.

Your friend came bounding over to you, throwing her arm around your shoulder. She was already pretty tipsy, but she was safe and seemed like she was having a good time so you weren’t going to be a buzzkill.

“You having fun?” she asked with a huge grin on her face.

You chuckled, taking a sip of your beer before responding, “I always do.”

She leaned farther onto you, “You wanna go home, don’t you?”

You shook your head and smiled, “I don’t. Go on, have fun with the girls. If you need anything just come find me, alright?”

“You gonna sit at the bar and scope people out?”

You laughed and nodded, “It’s my favorite pastime.”

She flitted back towards the group that she had been spending her evening with and you shook your head with a laugh. You settled onto your seat, leaning back against the bar so you could watch the party unfold.

You were perfectly content and minding your own business when a man came up and approached you at the bar. You purposely didn’t look at him or acknowledge him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone. But of course he didn’t. They never did. You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself as you slid one of the rings on your hand over to your ring finger, hoping to add another layer of deterrent.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” his smile was too intense to be genuine.

You looked him up and down, not attempting to hide the disdain on your face. You weren’t looking to meet anyone at these parties, but whoever this guy was definitely wasn’t the kind of person you were looking to talk to. He wasn’t even wearing a kutte, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You had no problem being petty and picky, especially given your current company.

“My name isn’t sweetheart,” you weren’t confrontational by nature but you had no use for skeevy men.

“Then why don’t you tell me what it is?”

You turned to him and flashed him a smile, letting a beat of silence pass before saying, “It’s none of your business.”

“C’mon, it’s a party, lighten up,” he inched closer to you, “Let me buy you a drink.”

“I’m not the one you want to be doing this with,” you shook your head and nodded towards the ring on your finger, “Dealing with my fiancé is not the kind of problem you want to deal with tonight.”

He scoffed, “Some fiancé, leaving you all alone at a party like this.”

“Because he assumes that people know enough not to fuck with me,” you glanced around the clubhouse, eyes landing on Happy. A smile crossed your face as you called over to him, “Happy! C’mere!”

The color drained from the face of the man in front of you. Happy’s face was never one that was overly expressive to begin with, always mostly neutral with a touch of anger. But you could see the confusion swirling around in his eyes as he walked over. You hopped down off the stool and casually draped your arm around his waist, causing him to tense up.

“Hey, baby,” you were impressed with how easily the words fell from your lips.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, and then to the man standing in front of you, “What’s going on?”

You leaned against him, resting your other hand on his chest, “Nothing. I was just telling this man that if he didn’t leave me alone he’d have to answer to my fiancé, and he didn’t believe me.”

Happy’s eyes bore into the man in front of him. Without any hesitation he wrapped one arm tightly around your waist while the other reached into his kutte and pulled out his gun, pointing it directly at the man’s head. Both your eyes and the man’s went wide. He stumbled backwards a step, hands going up in surrender.

“I-I’m sorry, man. I…I didn’t know.”

“Get the fuck out,” he stepped in closer to him, gun hardly an inch from the man’s forehead, “Now.” You could tell that the man’s feet were probably just frozen to the ground out of fear, but Happy didn’t care. He tapped the end of his gun against the man’s forehead, “I’m not gonna say it again.”

That seemed to snap him out of it. He turned and all but ran towards the door of the clubhouse, not caring that he was shoving through people as he went. Happy tucked his gun back into his kutte and you instantly let your arms fall back to your sides, not wanting to push your luck even more when you had already done so.

“Sorry about that,” you said, nervously rubbing your hand on the back of your neck, “I panicked.”

“If he comes back here again, I’ll kill him.”

You laughed, but you knew that he wasn’t exaggerating, “Something tells me that it won’t end up coming to that.”

“Fiancé,” he said the word like he was unfamiliar with the sound of it.

“Hm?”

“Can’t believe you told him I’m your fiancé. Why not boyfriend?”

You chuckled and shrugged, “Like I said, I panicked. Plus, fiancé has a little more umph to it, you know?”

“Umph?”

“Yea. Umph. Like,” you saw the look on his face and shook your head, “Never mind. Thank you for getting him away from me, though. Sorry for bothering you.”

“Told you to be careful of what you get yourself into,” for the first time all night, you saw a hint of a smile on his face.

You laughed, nodding, “I know. Lucky for me, you’re around to bail me out.”

“Stay closer next time,” despite the roughness of his voice you could see the mischief in his eyes, “that way no one will talk to you in the first place.”

You smiled, “I’ll be sure to track you down.”

He nodded, “Good,” he waved to get the prospect’s attention, “Get her another beer,” he turned back to you, “Find me if you need me.”

He walked off without another word or backward glance, but you were very aware of the way his hand trailed lightly along the small of your back as he walked off. The contact was light, and brief, but you felt like your skin was on fire.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a beer bottle clattering against the top of the bar. You flashed a smile and a nod to the young man behind the bar as you lifted the bottle. You looked around the clubhouse as you pressed the bottle to your lips, happy to see your friend still mingling and content. Immediately after, your gaze found its way to Happy who was already looking at you as he sat at the table with his brothers. One end of his mouth kicked up into a smirk as he subtly tilted his beer bottle towards you. You laughed, unable to stop smiling as you returned the gesture. The clubhouse was a lot of things, but surely it was never boring.

#happy lowman #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman x you #soa #sons of anarchy #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #soa imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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fallen-gravity · 3 years ago

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Aftermath

A whole summer later, and Mabel's still having nightmares about being trapped in her bubble. One unfortunate morning, Ford just happens to be the one who overhears her crying in her sleep.

Notes:

A huge, huge shout out to @ariasofelegance

A little white ago I reblogged a silly post that said something like "come into my inbox and tell me what my writing brand is", and without hesitating she dragged me into the dirt. Got me so on the nose that it backfired and whoops, I wanted to write it.

Said ask can be found here

Hope you’re happy with the results, Rin ;)

AO3

It’s the sound of sugary pop music seemingly wafting in through her bedroom window that wakes Mabel first. She assumes it’s just an alarm she doesn’t remember setting, and frantically waves her arm out for her nightstand so she can turn it off and go back to sleep for another minute or ten.

Then it’s the fact that her hand smacks something that squeaks, and okay, maybe Waddles accidentally left one of his toys in her room. He’s got plenty, so she can shrug off that as long as it’s not his favorite then he can go another few minutes without it. She’ll bring it downstairs to him when she wakes up, or if Dipper rises before her he can bring it downstairs instead.

It’s fine. She can brush those things off, and to prove it to herself she turns over on her other side and brings her blanket up to cover her ears. If anyone needs her they’re gonna have to climb the stairs all the way up to the attic and tell her themselves. She smiles to herself at the thought, and settles easily back into her sleep.

It doesn’t really click that something’s…off until the sun shines in through her window. Despite knowing that she’s facing away from her window, the sunlight still pierces through Mabel’s blanket and lands right into her eyes. Even for the mid-summer Oregon sun she’s gotten accustomed to, it’s uncomfortably warm and unreasonably bright for so early in the morning.

…Stranger still, she’s sure that Dipper would’ve already complained about it before she did, or at the very least, she’s sure she already would’ve heard him shuffling around the room by now.

Mabel takes it to mean that he must already be awake and downstairs, and groans. It still doesn’t explain why the sun is so painful in her eyes, but she guesses that could be a result of her sleeping in later than she’s used to.

“Alright, universe, you got me” Mabel mumbles, and stretches as she finally pushes herself into a sitting position. Opening her eyes is a bit tougher with the sun still harshly shining into them, but it’s manageable, and…

…This doesn’t look like the attic.

She attempts to rub the sleep out of her eyes, in case she’s still not fully awake yet, but no, the image in front of her still doesn’t change. She’s about to try standing up to see if walking around will help snap her out of her haze, but before she can even kick her feet over the edge her bedroom door swings open.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Mabel sighs. “Can you close the window? I can’t see a thing”

“Sure thing, Miss Mabel!” a cheery voice that is decidedly not Dipper’s replies, and with a snap of their fingers the lights go out. Now that her eyes finally adjust, Mabel’s able to glance around her room, and…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

There are stone statues of her face in every corner of her room, piles of rainbow plushies stacked all over the floor, a collage of sweaters all over the wall, inflatable furniture scattered everywhere, and most notably, a large rug with a bright shooting star embroidered into the center.

“Miss Mabel?” the strange voice asks again, and a bright pink hippo steps into view towards her bed. “Is everything okay?”

Mabel frantically scoots backwards in her strange bed. “Stay back!” she tries to shout, but everything comes out as more of a panicked waver. “Stay back or I’ll grapple hook you in the face!” she frantically pats all around her body for any sign of her trusty weapon.

The hippo tilts its head in confusion, a squeak emerging from it. “Oh, Miss Mabel, you’re a riot! Don’t you remember?”

Mabel freezes in her frantic patting. “Remember what?”

The strange hippo laughs. “Our volleyball match! You promised you’d play with me, but then you took a suuuper long nap instead!”

Mabel shakes her head. It can’t be. It can’t be. She knows Dipper already came to rescue her, she knows they already took the bus back to Piedmont together, she knows they promised to stick together through thick and thin.

Or…did they? What if that was all part of this sick fantasy too? What if Bill just made her believe that Dipper came to her aid, when he’s actually been captured, or hurt, or worse, and Bill is still pacifying her for as long as he can to keep Weirdmageddon going?

She can’t breathe. She tugs at the collar of her turtleneck, but that only makes things worse, because it’s not until she notices the hot pink of her collar that she realizes she’s wearing her shooting star sweater. She wants to rip it off and claw at it until it comes apart thread by thread.

“M-Miss Mabel?”

She has to get out of here.

“Of course!” she replies, just to avoid suspicion. “Let’s go play some volleyball!” She claps loudly, and the pink hippo grins, seemingly unfazed by her behavior.

“Great!” it beams, and bounces happily out the door. Mabel follows more slowly, casting nervous glances everywhere she looks for any signs of creeping yellow eyes.

“Oh, shoot!” the hippo shouts once they’re outside, and Mabel nearly jumps a mile out of her skin.

“What is it?”

“We don’t have enough players,” the hippo pouts. “I can go see if I can find anyone who-”

“No!” Mabel shouts, and a few beachgoers freeze to cast glances her way. She blushes, and tries again. “I...I mean, we could always get my brother to play with us! Where’s my good ol’ twin brother?”

For the briefest of moments the hippo’s eyes flash yellow, but they’re back to normal just as quickly.

“Over here, sis!” Dippy Fresh waves, approaching them on his skateboard.

Mabel steps back, shaking her head. “Where’s my real twin brother?”

The crowd of beachgoers begins murmuring uncomfortably to each other.

“Aww, c’mon sis, don’t be like that!” he grins, jumping off of his skateboard and taking a step closer.

“You’re not my real brother” she hisses. “None of this is real! I know it isn’t!”

She’s shouting now, but she doesn’t care. “Come out and face me yourself, Bill! I know you’re out there! I don’t want to take part in this sick fantasy anymore!”

Everyone around her gasps, and between one breath and the next she’s painfully tackled to the ground.

“Mabel Pines!” an unfamiliar voice shouts, mixed seamlessly with the shrill echo of Bill’s. “Not only have you broken the one and only law of Mabeland, you have also spoke up in defiance of Bill Cipher, the true creator of this land. A simple court trial will not be enough. For these transgressions, you will be taken straight to the Fearamid for proper punishment”.

Mabel’s face pales. “W-wait! I was only just kidding!” She pleas, but a strong pair of arms is already lifting her into the air. She kicks and thrashes, but no matter how much she fights back, more pairs of hands seem to grab onto her and keep her in place.

“No!” she shouts. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise! I’ll do anything you guys want! I’ll never leave you again!”

“It’s too late!” Bill’s voice finally separates itself from the crowd, and he manifests himself in front of her. He lifts her into the air, and she starts thrashing even harder, but nothing she’s doing is working to free herself from her grip.

At the very back of her mind, she thinks she can hear someone shouting her name. But she’s sure that’s all just part of the illusion, that Bill’s using the sound of her own family against her to torture her one last time before she never sees them again, and-

Something brushes against her forehead.

Something soft, and warm, and comforting, and so humanlike compared to everything else around her that it’s enough to make the every single aspect of the illusion disappear into thin air all at once, even Bill himself.

Everything’s black, and then, with a blink of her eyes, she’s staring into Ford’s eyes, soft and loving and pooling with worry. It doesn’t take long for her to piece together that it’s his hand on her forehead.

“Mabel?” he asks, and she realizes quickly that it had been his voice shouting her name in the bubble.

She gasps, bolting upright, and does her best to recover her breathing. Ford doges out of the way to avoid smacking heads, but stays right where he is beside her, rubbing soothing little circles into her back.

Her throat hurts. She must’ve been shouting in her sleep. She wants to cry, but she can’t even do that right, because the moment a sob tries to escape her throat her chest feels like it’s closing up, and she can’t take a breath anymore, no matter how much air she inhales.

“It’s okay,” Ford whispers to her. “Deep breaths”

Mabel shakes her head. “I…I can’t”

“Yes you can,” he replies, firmly but kindly. He scooches closer to her, slowly as not to re-startle her. “Mabel, look at me”

She does. His eyes are so soft, conveying so many grounding, human emotions that the single moment of eye contact alone is almost enough to completely ground her back to reality. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, once she’s finally able to maintain eye contact without her eyes trembling. “You’re awake, I promise” he offers his hands out to her. “Reach out and squeeze my hands if you need to, but I promise that I really am right here”

Mabel reaches out and takes his hands in her own. They’re so much bigger than hers, and they’re rough with calluses and there’s quill ink stuck under his nails, but they’re so comfortably the hands of her great uncle, all the way down to the extra sixth finger on each hand that the sob stuck in her throat finally breaks its way through. He’s not just another illusion, he’s not a perfect copy that Bill sent to keep her complacent, he’s just…Grunkle Ford.

Mabel throws herself into his arms as her sobs overwhelm her small body. She buries her face into the collar of his turtleneck, and forces her eyes to focus on a little loose strand sticking out at the back of his neck. It’s just a tiny little imperfect detail that could easily be snipped or sewn back into place, but a little imperfection like that to let her know she’s home is more comforting than she’s willing to admit.

Ford wraps his arms around her and holds her closely. He gently runs a hand through her hair, whispering I know and it’s okay over and over again into her hair, and she just buries her whole face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of coffee and ash and ink coming from his sweater like it’s a lifeline.

She stays in his embrace until her sobs finally calm, and they pull away gently. She wipes at her nose with her wrist.

“I’m sorry”

Ford shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, dear. I know firsthand just how awful it feels to suffer through a panic attack alone”.

Alone?

She glances to the other side of the bedroom, and finds Dipper’s bed empty. Her heart drops to her stomach. “Wh-where’s..?” she starts, but Ford places a gentle hand on her shoulder before she can finish that train of thought.

“Dipper’s okay, he’s outside with Soos”

“Grunkle Stan?”

“He ran out to the store, but he’s okay too”

Mabel buries her face into her hands. “You didn’t…come in here because you could hear me from downstairs, did you?”

Ford shakes his head, a fond smile itching to spread across his face. “I came upstairs when I’d heard you were still asleep and didn’t want my favorite niece to miss out on such a beautiful morning,” he pauses, the smile on his face vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. “But then when I came in to wake you up, you looked like you were having a panic attack in your sleep, and…” his voice trails off. “You started…crying out names.” He winds a protective arm around her shoulder, and gently squeezes her arm. “I’d never want to make you recount something so awful, but if you want to talk about it, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon”

Mabel sighs. It isn’t even close to being the first dream she’s had about the bubble, so she should be used to all of these strange feelings by now. But this particular dream felt the most based in reality, and it’s the first time Bill’s actually shown up and threatened to hurt her to her face.

She returns his gesture, winding an arm around Ford’s back and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. She scooches just a tiny bit closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. “I…” she begins, squeezing her eyes shut to brace herself. “I was trapped in Mabeland again. Except it wasn’t like all the other times I’ve had nightmares about it where I knew something was off and I hit the ground running as soon as I realized where I was, it was more like…I felt like I’d always been there.”

With her free hand, Mabel brings the collar of her sweater all the way up to her nose. Anything to distract her from her uncle’s worried expression burning into her. “It was like everything we did last summer was for nothing. I woke up in my bed in the castle, and everyone was acting like it was peachy keen. I tried asking someone about where Dipper was, just for some sense of normalcy, but all that did was summon that dumb clone Mabeland created of him so I wouldn’t get too lonely. I know it’s dumb, but the whole thing just felt…too real. Like I was still stuck there, and the apocalypse was still going on out here, and the whole rescue mission was just a sick dream that Bill put in my head to trick me into believing everything was okay”

Mabel squishes her face into Ford’s sweater and just forces herself to focus on his scent, on the soft material of his sweater, on the gentle pattern of his breathing. “Everything was ripped away from me, Grunkle Ford, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I tried speaking up for myself, but that only made things worse, because Bill showed up, and he-”

She’s suddenly painfully aware that she’s trembling again, and can’t help the tears building in her eyes. She tries burying her face even further into Ford’s sweater to collect herself and keep going, but before she can she feels Ford’s hand at the back of her head, gently holding her in place as she cries.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, his voice a soothing presence among her racing thoughts. “You don’t have to keep going.” He’s back to gently petting her hair, and the gesture is consistent and familiar enough to ease Mabel’s crying. “I’m so sorry that you’re still having nightmares about this”.

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and finally finds the strength to pull herself away from his sweater. “It’s not your fault”, she says, and her eyes drop to the hardwood floor of her bedroom. “I’m just so scared, Grunkle Ford.” She grips onto the edges of her skirt. “I know that I shouldn’t be, because I know Bill’s been gone for a year and I know everything’s okay now, but I just can’t help but feel that everything’s not.”

Ford nods solemnly, and for a moment he doesn’t respond, until he shifts in his sitting position so he’s facing directly towards Mabel rather than beside her. “Mabel, may I show you something?”

Mabel blinks, her head tilting slightly in confusion. “Sure, Grunkle Ford, what is it?”

Ford rolls the sleeves of his turtleneck up to his elbows. His wrists are covered in faded white slits, and the rest of his arms are covered in burn scars, scratches, gashes, and decades-old bruises that never healed properly. Some of them are still red and blistering, and others look so faded that she could just as easily mistake them for birthmarks.

It hurts Mabel’s heart just to look at them. Her hands hover cautiously over them, and she glances at the wonderful great uncle that they’re attached to. “C-can I…?”

He nods. “Sure.”

Mabel gently runs her fingers along each of them so lightly that it’s almost as if she isn’t touching them at all. She knows that he’d been hurt in the past, and she knows that it couldn’t have been easy roughing it out in the multiverse for thirty consecutive years, but it breaks her heart to see the evidence of it all up close.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ford sighs, cutting into her thoughts. “But most of these don’t come from the portal” he pauses to rub at the back of his head. “Or, rather, they do, but not in the way that you probably think”

Mabel pauses. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…sometime after Bill betrayed my trust, but before I was able to get the metal plate in my head to keep him out, he’d take advantage of our deal that let him into my mind whenever he pleased,” he taps at his forehead. “He was furious that I shut down the portal, so any time I fell asleep he’d use the opportunity to hurt me as much as he could. He never wanted to kill me because he was convinced I’d change my mind in due time, but he felt the need to torture me so I’d never act against him again. He’d slit my wrists, he’d burn me, he’d do just about everything he could to make sure I could feel the repercussions of his actions when I woke up.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “Thankfully he was never able to break a bone before I woke up in time to stop him, but…” he trails off, and for the briefest of moments he looks as though he’s lost in thought.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Ford blushes, snapping himself from his own thoughts before Mabel has any time to ask if he’s okay. “The point is,” he says, “Just because you know he’s gone now doesn’t mean that he never hurt you. Your nightmares are your scars, and they’re just as real as the scars under my sweater.”

Mabel wants to respond with a proper thank you, because she’s genuinely touched by the validation, but there’s a part of her that just can’t move past all the gashes and scars on Ford’s arms. She knows she’s seen similar cuts elsewhere, maybe not nearly as dire, but she knows in the back of her mind that’s just because she was just barely able to stop them from becoming much, much worse.

“I don’t think it’s just the nightmares” she mumbles, just barely loud enough for Ford to hear.

“Hmm?” Ford hums. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Mabel runs two fingers gently around the white scars on Ford’s wrist. “I don’t think it’s just that he hurt me, I think it’s that he hurt a lot of people that I love, too.” She shakes her head. “I know there isn’t a lot I could’ve done to prevent it, but…I was so oblivious to it, Grunkle Ford. I had no idea he was hurting so many people until it was almost too late”.

She keeps rubbing gentle circles into his wrist, like she can make the scars and all of the memories of the pain he went through vanish into thin air with her loving touch alone. “Dipper’s got these scars too. I know he’s okay now, but…” the sigh that escapes her is broken and shaky. “I know that much worse things could’ve happened to him, too”.

Ford frowns. “He…did tell me about being possessed, yes. But he also told me that he couldn’t have gotten his body back without your help. Bill’s a master at trickery, Mabel, it’s not your fault you couldn’t recognize him in Dipper’s body”.

…But she also knows that the reason Dipper was possessed in the first place is because he was up all night trying to crack a code that she told him she’d help him with, and she also knows that if she found out that it wasn’t Dipper controlling his body until it was too late, then…

“He wrote a letter”

The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop herself, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, tears building in her eyes again.

“Who did?” The soft smile slips off of Ford’s face. “Dipper?”

Mabel shakes her head. “Bill wrote a letter when he was still in possession of Dipper’s body. I’ve never shown it to Dipper before because I didn’t wanna freak him out, but I just…couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, because I was so afraid that if I did, Bill was going to find out, and wait until the moment my back was turned so he could…” her voice trails off, and she can’t finish the sentence no matter how badly she needs to get it off of her chest.

“Mabel?” Ford asks, his voice dripping with worry.

She shakes her head, and hops down from her bed to reach underneath. She grabs a seemingly useless crumped up piece of paper, and carefully unfolds it and pats down all the wrinkles before she offers it to Ford. “Before he could do this,” she replies, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

Ford takes the letter from her, and Mabel takes her seat back on the bed beside him. All she can bring herself to do is just watch as Ford’s expression becomes more and more horrified as he reads further down the letter, and the hurt in his eyes when he looks into hers when he finishes reading is palpable.

“I’m scared, Grunkle Ford” she repeats, her mouth continuing to speak before her brain can stop her. “I know Bill’s gone for good, but how can I be so sure that everything’s okay when I know that this is what he could’ve done to my brother?”

For a few painfully short moments Ford says nothing. Mabel’s sure he’s at a loss of words, or that it was a mistake showing him the letter because he’s freaking out now too, but much to her surprise Ford’s next move is pulling her into his arms again and hugging her so tightly it’s as if he never wants to let go again.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into her hair, but doesn’t give her enough time to respond before he keeps going. “Mabel, I’m so sorry you’ve been burdened with this. You’re the last person I would ever wish to feel so unsafe that you can’t even trust the quiet moments.”

His breathing sounds broken and shaky, but if he’s tearing up at all he’s doing a really good job at hiding it. “You don’t deserve any of this. You’re too young to feel like you have any responsibilities over anyone’s life or death. I’m so sorry that he made you feel this way”

She knows he’s not the kind of person to use his words carelessly. She knows that he’s phrasing it this way because he recognizes his own behavior in her. She doesn’t respond verbally, but she reciprocates the hug best she can, and a heavy sigh escapes Ford when she does. They stay there in silence for a few short minutes, just reveling in the comfort and safety of the other’s arms.

When they finally pull away, Ford seems to have gathered his composure again.

“I promise, Mabel” he takes one of her hands into his own. “I promise you that he’s gone. He can never hurt you or me or Dipper or Stan ever again. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t, and it doesn’t mean that recovering from that sort of pain will be easy, but if there’s anything I know for sure, it’s that he’s never showing his face here again”.

Mabel finally crumbles in his arms. She’s sobbing again, but it’s a cathartic kind of sob, and she’s gripping onto Ford’s shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping her together.

“And even if he does, I know just the grappling hook to scare him away”.

Between her sobs, Mabel can’t help but giggle.

#my writing #gravity falls #ford pines #mabel pines #sweater twins #mystery twins

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egotheplanet · 4 years ago

Text

Betrothed (Gladiator!Eren Jaeger x Princess!Reader)

{Part 1 of my Mystical Realm AU Masterlist}

Summary: Eren Jaeger is a gladiator with the stage name ‘Titan’ who wins your hand and defends your honor in a match against the rival kingdom of your land.

Word Count: 3k

TW: Blood, Violence, Arranged Marriage, Fainting, Creepy Step-Father, Lots of Commas

The screams of the crowd are deafening as you approach the Royal-Access-Only entrance of the arena. Your step-father, ruler of the Kingdom of Chandovich, sent a request through his most trusted advisor. All he explained to Sir Rivaille, was to escort you to the match. No amount of questions you proposed to the knight would reveal any new information, since he only knew as much as you did.

He’s never once done this before. The king and queen are both well aware how much you hate the brutality of it all. You squint at the bright light of the end of the hallway and you ponder why he wants you there now. The only thing you know for certain is that his favorite gladiator is fighting on the kingdoms behalf today.

Eren Jaeger.

An undefeated beast of a man going for his 60th consecutive win. The match today is against the rivaling kingdoms champion, the Beast as he is aptly called. Your father always places a delicious incentive for the winner and is known for keeping his word.

Your mind swirls with wonder and your stomach sinks with anxiety while you think about what he promised today and what it has to do with you being there. As you enter the royal box seat, the view of adoring fans and your fathers back enters your view. The clanging of metal swords against shields assaults your ear drums. The seats are on the floor level and this close to the stage, you can see the sweat rolling off the fighters’ bodies.

The Titan, Erens well earned stage name, beats his iron against the mans shield repeatedly without wavering. His opponent, who is many times his size, is kneeling and clearly struggling albeit refusing to give up. Your kings of opposing lands stand at the same time since the match is about to end. The already roaring crowd is lively, people in the stands holding signs and throwing food and flowers into the ring in support of their respective fighter. Children can be seen on their parents shoulders in efforts for better views.

You finally walk to his side and the crowd goes wild at the sight of you. Your crown digs into your finely plaited hair, adding to your growing headache which spawned from the loud atmosphere, as you bow ever so slightly to show respect for the king. The Titan throws one final blow, slicing the challenger from his neck to his rib cage. Effectively chopping off his arm. The man falls to his knees before the rest of his body hits the ground; bleeding out though you refuse to look and see. The crowd goes berserk and Eren drops his blood soaked sword to the ground with a clatter. His chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath. Sweat drips from his forehead down his neck and finally onto his chest. His hair, wildly unkempt and freely falling, sticks to his face. Blood covers most parts of his body.

He takes no time reveling his victory before he kneels on one knee. His forearm rests atop of it, his long brown hair covering his face as he bows his head to your father as a sign of acknowledgment.

Your father looks down at you proudly with an almost undetectable hint of an apologetic gaze. Your brow quirks in question and you part your lips to inquire as to why he looked this way, but his voice booms over the theater to make an announcement— cutting you off before you began.

“Never in my years as King of Chandovich have I seen a greater gladiator in this theater. And never once have I seen such an important match end so quickly.” The crowd is dim to hear the speech and you can hear your heart hammer against your rib cage. “Our appropriately named Titan fought well against his opponent from Vestotua. Perhaps the promise of such a grand prize gave him more of a reason to win, hm?” The crowd cheers and you frown, perplexed as to why your father brought you out here to see the end of a match.

And the allusion of your presence being such a prize.

“Well I’m proud our homeland remains victorious in this prestigious arena. And beyond pleased to announce that Mr. Jaeger has not only won his freedom.. But a title! Congratulations, Titan, your fighting years are over and your years being a member of the royal court begin today!” He claps and nods down at the man.

The onlookers cheer for the story of a commoner becoming something better. Stories of this caliber always benefit commoner-castle relations for years.

Jaegers jaw visibly clenches in disdain and he stands, the crowd audibly hushes as he grabs his sword, pointing it toward the king. They erupt in gasps and some throw a few boo’s.

Knights Rivaille and Kirschtein grip the hilts of their swords in preparation to defend the crown.

“That’s not all I was promised. Make good on your word, King.” The Titans voice is venomous and your father smirks slightly at the audacity.

“Dear boy, where do you think the title comes from? How low of me do you think that I would not keep my solemn word? The princess is all yours! Do forgive the lack of a bow atop your gift.” The crowd laughs loudly and the knights beside you tense with unease.

Your jaw slacks and your chest heaves as you look at your father in shock. The jewels and fine fabrics covering you feel heavier than cement blocks.

“What? I—“ Your voice is panicked and soft as disbelief coats your throat.

He pats you on the back, pushing you forward to the edge of the viewing box. The fighter steps ahead and bends ever so slightly so he’s eye to eye with you.

His chest continues to heave and his nostrils flare, sending hot air onto your face. He smells of blood, booze, sweat and of the barn animals he sleeps beside at night. Teal irises glare deeply into your e/c ones until you look away, too frightened to speak or move. His rough, blood covered hands reach over the edge to grasp yours.. tenderly? Hard calluses gently bore into the soft flesh of your freshly manicured hands. You wouldn’t expect such a light touch from such a brutish man with a reputation as his.

“...Good. I’ll collect my things and be back for her later.” He breathes out, the hot air again hitting your cheek from the proximity. He turns and strides away, warm hands finally leaving yours. You find yourself growing instantly cold without him before you. You clasp your hands together in front of you to savor the warmth.

The king chuckles deeply and slaps your backside hard causing you to flinch and whimper slightly. Just a small portion of the ‘affection’ your step-father gives you.

“Your things? Not to worry, boy! We have plenty of hay and pigs at the castle.” At the word ‘pigs’, he snatches your arm and flails it in the air.

The crowd roars in laughter and the gladiator halts his steps, visibly trembling in anger before continuing to walk to the fighters exit. He doesn’t look back or respond to the taunt.

You frown deeply and tears burn the bottom of your eye-line. Your heart and stomach ache because you’re being given away to a monster. Because your father views you as nothing more than a cheap gift for heathens. Because the man you’re going to marry is a murderer.

Because... he’s being as poorly treated by your king as you are. That thought sneaks it’s way in and you shake it away with a tremble.

Because he is probably going to treat you worse than you could ever imagine.

The scent of blood evaporating in the midday sun hits your nose harshly. Your head swirls and the sunlight dims impossibly dark. An unexpected eclipse? No..

Your hands and feet grow freezing cold and the breath expels quickly from your chest in one large wheeze. In all but an instant, you feel yourself falling backwards uncontrollably. But that’s all you feel before you completely lose consciousness.

The crowd gasps and the knight protecting your father leaps forward, catching you in his arms. Your only friend in the castle, Sir Kirschtein, furrows his brow in worry as he lifts you up bridal style. Preventing any serious injury to your body, he hugs you close to his armored chest.

The king rolls his eyes and sighs, hands in the air while he shrugs before slapping them down at his sides.

“Women are such frail creatures, aren’t they?” The crowd murmurs worriedly about their beloved princess. The kings eyes narrow as he yells; “I said, women are such frail creatures, aren’t they!!” the crowd pauses for a beat before erupting into forced laughter.

Jean clenches his teeth and begins walking out, his grip on you tight and protective.

The king taps his shoulder and he turns ever so slightly.

“Majesty?” Jean looks down into his eyes, almost begging him to try something. The knight stands a good few inches taller than the monarch.

“Ahem.. Yes, well. Take her to bed and ensure the handmaidens have gathered all her necessary things for her new home in the countryside. Ensure her meeting with the beast goes well or I’m sure I will get an earful from the lady Queen.” He rubs his temples in annoyance at the thought.

The knight nods instead of speaking, worried his tongue will be shaper than he intends. As much as he wants to defend your sacred honor, his head is on the line and he cannot protect you from beyond the grave.

When you awaken, you’re in your room. The sheer canopy of your bed filters the light from the windows smoothly. Your head rushes with blood and your eyes feel as if they could roll out of your skull. Jean is sitting in an elegant chair to your left, holding your hand very gently.

“How are you feeling, highness?” His voice is very soft so as not to hurt your head further but the worry trickles through his words feverishly.

Your face flushes in embarrassment as you attempt to sit up. You make it without too many problems, sitting back against the headboard and goose down pillows. Your hand rubs the back of your head where the source of the throbbing is coming from.

“Out of it.. Please tell me I dreamt all of that or I may begin to weep.” Your voice softly trembles as you recall the earlier events.

Jean looks sorrowful as he lowers his gaze.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. There was nothing I could do.”

You bite your lip, closing your eyes in defeat and nod once.

You’ve been trained your entire life to become a good and fair maiden. Good enough to be handed off in some sort of deal later on in life as a shining and glorious gift. You’ve grown up knowing you’d become a political tool sooner or later.

You’d just hoped it would’ve been later. Much, much later. To a prince or someone stately at least!

“I never thought I’d be handed off to some.. some monster. I thought the least the king could offer me after a life of subjection was a choice in when I get offered up. But now I’m being forced into the life of a common street dog.” You put your face in your hands as the tears finally spill over.

A deep voice calls to you from the shadowy end of your room.

“So which is it, princess? Am I a monster or a street dog?” Eren leans against your dresser; his arms crossed against his chest, eyes glaring into your silhouette.

You gasp and look up, seeing the outline of him grow larger and hearing his heavy footsteps as he walks to the end of your bed.

Jean growls, clenching the hilt of the sword on his hip. “That’s close enough, Titan.”

Eren stops immediately and sighs.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

Both you and the knight look at each other before resetting your eyes to the commonly unruly man.

As the light encompasses him through your sheer curtains, you see he’s been cleaned and redressed. The deep chocolate colored hair is tied back with a small braid running into the messy bun. His shirt is a fluffy cuffed cotton with buttons trailing down the front. His pants are black, long and high waisted, accentuating his body’s firm frame. However, the teal eyes from arena remain the same.

“What was that you said?” You whisper, not trusting your ears fully.

“I’m sorry you’re being given away like this. Forced into a marriage with me, I mean. I honestly didn’t want to fight for you at all.” Jean scoffs at this.

“Bastard.” He murmurs.

“I only wanted freedom.”

Your eyes widen as you recognize the feeling.

You listen religiously as he begins to explain the predicament he was placed in.

“The king promised me before the match that if I won against our rival land, I’d be free. He never mentioned anything about winning your hand. Until..” He trails off and looks to Jean.

“Until the opposing King of Vestotua said that wasn’t a good enough prize for a fight of this magnitude...” The good knight finishes for him.

You look beside you to your most trusted ally, hand gently gripping his forearm as it rests atop your red and gold stitched duvet.

“King Gnowles said the only prize worthy enough would be your hand, princess.” He looks up apologetically. “If they won, you had to marry their fighter to prove how submissive our kingdom is when it comes to Vestotua making commands. But if we won, you belong to our gladiator to make things even.” Jean says through clenched teeth. His hand digs into your comforter in a death grip, probably envisioning the kings throat.

Eren walks around your square shaped bed to sit beside you. Your body leans toward him as the bed dips in his favor. A hand reaches out slowly to take place on your shoulder but hesitates when you flinch away. He places the warm appendage on your shoulder after giving you a moment to prepare.

“This isn’t what I wanted. I tried to opt out, please believe me. But the king said you’d automatically go to them if I forfeit. I definitely mulled over forfeiting anyway, but their challenger started..” he shakes his head and puts his lips together in disgust. “Saying things... What he would do to you once you were his. Once you ‘belonged to him’.” He quickly stands again and the contact is lost between you both.

Your heart flips.

Whether from his recount or the feeling of his hands on you, you’re unsure.

He walks to your window which overlooks the seaside and slams his palms on the windowsill.

He growls as he stares out at the free rolling waves.

“I decided then that I would fight for you. We’re all born free. From the day we are born, we are free. It doesn’t matter how strong those who deny us that freedom are. A clerk, a knight, hell, even a king. A human being cannot belong to anyone! I’m willing to protect your freedom no matter what. You think I’d let some disgusting rat own and defile you? Not on your life!” He whips around to face you at the last line, his right hand clenched into a fist to prove his virtue. His voice is raised and posture straight as he proudly exclaims what he believes in.

For some reason.. you feel... content.

He genuinely wants you to be safe. And free. That’s more than ever could’ve be said about your step father. Even your own mother agreed to this, so you’re told. The only person in the entire castle who thinks of you as an autonomous-breathing person is Sir Kirschtein.

Up until now that is.. the man you’re betrothed to is willing to offer you your independence with his life. Your heart flips again as his eyes lock with yours.

“I-I...” you stutter and stare up at him in awe.

He feels his cheeks flush when he notices the stars in your eyes. He averts his gaze, turning around in an attempt to remain valiant.

“Look.. We do have to get married and you do have to come live with me in a house provided by the kingdom. It’s on private land over the hills. B-But that’s the only thing you have no choice in! I vow to never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll take care of the land and the livestock so you can have your own life. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. I’ll build whatever you want and obtain whatever you like. Just..” he makes a noise sounding like a hesitant scratch in the back of his esophagus. “Just promise you won’t call me a monster or a street dog again.” He looks back up at you with pain in his eyes.

You can tell from his previous speech about freedom that he’s had a rough life. After all he’s willing to do for you, after all he’s already done, the least you can do is honor this wish.

“As you desire.” You speak softly and angelically as your body tries to stand.

“H-Hey you should be resting!” Jean tries to grab you before you get up but you move too quickly.

Your feet are wobbly, sure, but you confidently walk and stand in front of your future husband. You turn him around to face you by placing your hands on his shoulders. You smile warmly up at him.

“We can make this work, Eren Jaeger. I truly believe we can.” You reach forward and grab his hands in the same gentle manner he did at the theater.

This time it’s his turn to flush all shades of pink as he looks down into your eyes. “I’m going to do my best to make you as happy as you’re making me by freeing me from this castle.” You squeeze his hands comfortingly and your eyes begin to water from joy, the smile never faltering from your cheeks.

Perhaps you’re better suited to a life on the seaside with The Titan than you are to a life as a confined princess.

With a wedding planned for the morning, the two of you cannot wait to find out.

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softomi · 4 years ago

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And The Best Boyfriend Award Goes To....

Nominee One: Suna Rintarou

Dreadful, that’s how you felt. You moved slowly, you slumped into your seat, you groaned. Your boyfriend wasn’t even paying attention to you. He was simply resting on his desk, head buried in his arms but you knew that he was listening. He just always liked to pretend like he couldn’t hear your whining.

“I don’t want to be here! Babe.” You’re calling to him.

He finally looked at you, “What’s wrong?” He still rested his head on his arms, you were following his actions. Your head resting on the desk as you looked at your boyfriend; wishing for once he could give you some sympathy.

You were pouting, “Mother nature visited me.” It was short, sweet, one of the closest ways you could address your period without actually saying it.

“Well, what’d she say?” You almost throw your stuff at him; only he would ever ask a question like this.

“She said I’m not pregnant.” A sigh escaped your mouth, sure this was supposed to be good news for him and you but it’s not fun when you’re the only one suffering.

“Well.” He quirks a brow at you, “Isn’t that a good thing?” He thinks he’s funny but he wasn’t to you.

You turn your head to look away from him, a groan on your lips, “Ugh, you’re the worst boyfriend ever. I’m dating a robot.”

You were talking with some of your girl friends, some were also going through their own time of the month and could empathize with you. They ranted on how their own boyfriends were just as bad as yours; perhaps some of the others were just a tad bit worse.

“Ow.” A chocolate bar bounces off your head, landing right in front of you. When you turn, you see your boyfriend standing with his hand in his pockets, “What was that for?”

“Stop telling everyone I’m the worst boyfriend.” He hands you another chocolate bar but this time it’s one filled with almonds. He pats your head, one of the only actions he’d actually do in front of people. He walks away as he hears the group of girls coo, a blush on his cheeks when he hears you flaunting your boyfriend.

You’re smiling, taking bits of the chocolate to eat as your friends whine about jealousy. That’s how it started.

Nominee Two: Miya Atsumu

He had just heard about what Suna did, he felt betrayed. Now he had to go above and beyond for you; you who was mad at him because when you snapped at him accidentally, he told you to chill because you were on your period. He was thinking, he was wondering, just what beats chocolates?

“My love.” He was trying to butter you up with his sweet words, “I’m sorry.”

You hum, “You heard about Suna didn’t you?” You shrug his hand from your arm, “Don’t try and include me in your dick measuring contest. You’re still the worst.”

You ignored him for the rest of the school day, even during lunch when he tried to pick at your food, you swatted his hand away. He was practically pouting the entire day, shooting daggers at Suna who had his partner snuggled right up to him. He missed your hugs.

“It’s Atsumu.” Osamu had burst into your club meeting, sweat trailing down his forehead, calling you for an emergency.

You rushed behind the male as you two made it to the gym; Atsumu was on the ground, holding a hand to his chest as you came to his side. You were panicking, “Tsumu, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t.” He’s coughing until suddenly he stopped, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he pulled you down to meet his lips, “I can’t live without your kiss.”

Needless to say, you slapped him across the face; storming out of the gymnasium as he ran behind you. You were on the verge of tears when he pulled you to look at him.

“You’re the absolute worst, do you know that.” You hit his chest, “I thought you were actually hurt.”

“But you’re talking to me now.” He’s smiling, “Look, I got you this.” He’s pulling a rose out from behind him, “It’s a secret though, I snagged it from the garden club’s rose bushes. They banned me after the last time I stole their tulips for you.” He watches your eyes soften with the rose, “Am I forgiven? Am I the best boyfriend now?”

You take the rose from him, “Fine, but as consequence, you need to snap a video of you buying pads, chocolates, and flowers to all the members of the volleyball club.”

Nominee Three: Miya Osamu

Club activities weren’t over but you watched as Atsumu and his girlfriend reconciled out in the courtyard. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous, you had heard about his stupid plan from your own boyfriend. You didn’t think she would actually fall for that; but as your own boyfriend approached you in the hall, you told yourself you weren’t going to fall for his sweetness.

“Hey, don’t walk away from me.” Osamu follows behind you, “You still mad?”

“I don’t know, are you still stupid?” Yes, you were still angered and annoyed. He invited you to go swimming over the weekend but when you told him you were on your period, he told you to just hold it in. It wasn't the dumbest thing he’s ever said to you but the fact was that he wasn’t considerate enough when you tried to explain that girls just can’t hold it in; instead he high fived his bros as if it was a joke.

“How many times are you gonna make me say sorry?” He’s still following you.

You don’t even look back at him, “The fact that you have to ask means that it hasn’t been enough.”

He’s sighing, “What do you want? Flowers? Chocolates? A giant teddy bear? I’ll rob Atsumu for you.”

You were so close, so close to cracking a smile but you kept your composure; turning to him abruptly. For a second he thinks you’ll come running into his arms; heck, he’s even got his arms out ready for you.

“Go out into the courtyard, profess your undying love for me.” You coldly turn away.

You knew he wouldn’t do it, he was too reserved to be shouting professions of love out in the open for everyone to hear. Even when he confessed his feelings for you, he hid you between the corners of the library; handing you a love letter before scampering off shyly. But you didn’t know the extent his feelings of love reached, you didn’t know that he would literally do anything for you.

“Hey.” Your friend came running into the classroom, a large grin and giggle on her face, “There’s a crazy person out in the courtyard.” She looks at you, “He kind of looks like your boyfriend.”

Your heart drops, you’re running to the windows, opening them to see him proudly standing in the middle of the courtyard with a megaphone, “Can you hear me?”

Students have now gathered from all the windows, the crowd answers a screeching ‘yes’ to him.

“I love my girlfriend y/n.” He looks straight at you.

You’re blushing profoundly as he opens his mouth once more, a teacher comes running out of the building. Students are laughing as he’s being scolded by the teacher. You meet him when he comes out of the office, your hand tucked behind your back.

“You’re stupid.” You say to him, draping his arm over your shoulder. He puts a tight hold on you.

“For you I am.” He kisses your hair.

The Winner: Kita Shinsuke

Ah, young love. It made you want to laugh, the way the second years were running around the school trying to cease their lover’s anger. It also made you smile, the way your own boyfriend was bending backwards for his younger friends. The three stooges had all come to you one by one; of the three, Suna was definitely the only one who listened.

“Where’s Kita?”

One of your friends had come to visit you in the gymnasium, you looked up, the pencil in your hand tapped against your chin, “I think he’s at the office, Osamu got in trouble.”

“Typical of the second years.” Your friend mutters before she bids you a farewell.

It wasn’t long until he showed up, slight annoyance on his expression, “Sorry.”

You’re leaning forward, a grin on your lips, “No need. What happened with Osamu?”

Kita frowns, “He has to do a week of clean up duty after school, meaning we’ll be down a hitter for our practice match Friday.” He’s about to return to practice when he suddenly remembers, “Oh, here, I accidentally activated it on the way here.”

You take the small heat pack from him, the warmth taking over your palm, “What’s this for?”

“Your cramps.” He drapes his jacket over you, “If you put it in the pocket, you can use it to apply heat on where it hurts the most.”

You were blushing, your lips suddenly in a pout, “How perfect are you.” You’re opening your arms for him, inviting him for a hug to which he can’t refuse. You press a kiss onto his cheek, “Best boyfriend indeed.”

It’s the one time you’ll see his face go red, it’s as if he’s buffering for a second before going back to his normal stature. Composed, poised, and calm; he turns back to the team. His hands on his hips as he starts to give a lecture on how significant others shouldn’t be distracting the players from the game.

“But.” Suna raises a hand, “How come your girlfriend can come to our practice and ours can’t?”

Kita freezes, as the team looks back on you; your attempting to hide the growing smile on your face. He was definitely caught; it was true, technically you weren’t supposed to be in the gym.

The captain coughs, “She’s our unofficial manager, so she’s allowed to be here.”

“If that’s the case, my girlfriend’s the unofficial manager too.” The men snicker at the comment thrown into the crowd but their laughs suddenly cease when Kita steps forward.

“Ten laps around the school yard, everyone, now.”

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu scenarios #atsumu scenarios #osamu scenarios #kita x reader #suna scenarios #haikyuu #atsumu #osamu #suna #kita

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moonbeambucky · 4 years ago

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Hey Neighbor (Part 10)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4154 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: You guys... this is fluff central plus I expect some screaming... A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 9 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

It was already dark as you headed up the steps from the subway station, shrugging your jacket a little closer to your body to keep out the chill. It wasn’t even officially winter but the cold weather had decided to make itself at home in New York.

Although you were exhausted from a long day at the hospital you were meeting up with your friends straight from work for an early get together. Someone had the bright idea that you should all go ice skating. It wasn’t your first choice considering you’re not that great at it but the promise of hot chocolate and sweets curbed your protests.

You walked with purpose through the massive crowds in Bryant Park, everyone with the same idea on a Saturday evening; wander through the shops and food stands set up for the holidays and ice skate in a place only slightly less crowded than Rockefeller Center.

A bluish white star shines high above the large tree, sparkling with its own multicolored lights. Beneath it is where you find your friends, huddled together to keep warm.

“Hey!” you shout approaching them.

Your arms wrap around puffy jackets, cold cheeks pressing together for kisses. A new person has joined your group’s hangout for the first time and you welcome her with open arms. Steve was head over heels for Peggy and although you were kind of sad he hasn’t been around much to hang out you wouldn’t trade his happiness for yours. Besides, Bucky’s sort of taken his place to come over and binge TV.

Sam took charge to lead everyone towards the skate rentals. With all the couples paired together you found yourself beside Bucky, trying to not get separated with everyone through the crowds.

“How was work today?” he asked, shouting over the mix of chatter and holiday music.

Your cheeks became tight with an uneasy frown and you didn’t have to explain further. Bucky knew how taxing social work could be. Not every day ends with positive results. Sometimes people refuse help and there’s nothing you can do about it, other times you see the end result of a situation that should have had an intervention years ago. But the system is flawed, so all you can do is your best.

His arm wraps around you and Bucky stops to pull you closer to him. The gesture of his embrace is met with scoffs by those he made stop short but Bucky ignores the angry stares. He squeezes a little tighter, an unspoken signal to let you know things will be okay; exhaling a sigh you know it will be.

No one noticed how the two of you lagged behind but you found your way to the booth, picking up ice skates and making your way to the locker area.

“Have you ever done this before?” you asked Bucky as you began tightening your laces.

Hair fell in front of his eyes as he tipped his head down to laugh. “I played hockey when I was twelve, so I’m hopin’ I’m not too bad. You?”

“I’m alright.”

Wanda whipped her head around immediately after hearing your words. “You’re such a liar!” She locked eyes with Bucky continuing, “Remember how Bambi was on ice?” He chuckled, nodding. “Well Y/N is a thousand times worse.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “Wanda you are so dramatic! I am not that bad.”

“Just watch out Barnes, when she falls– and she will– she grabs the nearest person and takes them down with her.”

Your eyes rolled back as you laughed again, telling Bucky to ignore Wanda. It had been a few years since you had gone ice skating and sure, you might be a little rusty but you were still feeling pretty confident.

By the time you got on the ice you had lost any shred of hope in your abilities. You were clinging to the rail trying to hold your balance despite your legs wanting to splay outwards, yelping every time someone swooshed by you gracefully.

“Hey Bambi,” Bucky teased, gliding towards you. “Take my hand.” He extended both hands to you, his soft smile doing its best to push aside your nerves.

Your grip on the railing strengthened as you let one hand go, taking his gloved hand with yours. Bucky held your gaze, blue eyes that spoke only trust as he encouraged you to let go. Your face scrunched tightly as you felt the nerves built up, but with one final push you released your hand and found his.

“Don’t let go of me,” you pleaded, shakily as Bucky skated backwards, pulling you towards the center of the rink.

“Never,” he practically purred, which was dangerous considering your knees already felt weak from the position they were in.

Bucky attempted to teach you how to skate because, as he suspected maybe there was some truth in what Wanda said about your abilities, or lack thereof. From the corner of your eye you spotted Natasha, slim fit leggings hugged her curves as she glided gracefully on the ice. She became a blur of red hair as she spun in place, with Clint smiling in awe at her.

“She and her sister used to do ballet,” he remarked towards you both as he waited for her to come out of the spin, her arms finding the familiar dancers pose above her head.

Your brows furrowed. “Sister?” You thought Natasha didn’t have a family; in fact you definitely remember her telling you her parents died a long time ago. She never once mentioned having a sister.

Reading the confusion on your face Clint filled in the rest. “Not her real sister but close enough like family. It’s another reason we’re having a hard time with the wedding. She’s in Russia, has a job that keeps her as busy as Nat so it’s hard to coordinate and Tash would definitely want her there.”

Clint left to join Natasha at her side and they skated together, as did Wanda and Sam. His distinct laugh stood out from the distance as they coasted along the outer portion of the rink. Even Steve who was always a little clumsy somehow became a near professional as he and Peggy skated by.

“How is everyone so good at this?” you huffed. The aggravation you felt with yourself made you lose focus for a moment, your legs nearly slipping on the ice but Bucky caught you.

Bucky’s voice was smoother than paved ice as he assured you, “You’ve got this. Just follow me.”

It was a slow start to learn how to actually skate, you still held one of Bucky’s hands as you marched on the ice and slowly you trusted his encouragement enough to let go. He skated right beside you as you turned your marching into tiny glides.

“You’re doing it!” he proudly cheered.

You smiled widely as you traveled along the ice, slow and steady. Bucky was showing off a bit, winking at you before he spun around, looking over his shoulder to skate backwards. He glided beautifully across the ice, effortless and full of fun. Your small strides were good but not as freeing as the way he moved.

Maybe it was the confidence you felt in accomplishing a very basic move but you wanted to make Bucky proud, step it up and really go for it. Without instruction you took off, pushing your blades harder into the ice to take longer strides.

Liberated was not the word you would use to describe your current mood. It was fear that settled deep within your bones. The fear of your legs shaking with unease, wobbling with every stride as you picked up speed. The fear of wanting to stop but realizing you never learned how. The fear that you were about to collide into–

“Bucky!” you shrieked just before you slammed into him.

It happened so fast. Bucky was thrown off guard by the way you knocked into him. He tried to regain his balance and keep himself from falling but you weren’t helping. Panicked by the fear of hitting the ice, you grabbed onto him, legs flailing wildly– like Bambi, as you tried to regain your footing on the slippery surface.

Your frantic grabs were a little too forceful, thwarting any of Bucky’s attempts to keep you both upright and within seconds you slammed to the ice pulling Bucky down with you.

After the initial shock of falling on the cold hard surface, panic washed over your body and you looked over at Bucky hoping you hadn’t hurt him. His legs were out as he sat hunched over, his hair had come apart from the neat bun it was previously in and worst of all, he was silent.

“B-Bucky...” you spoke hesitantly, “You okay?”

Your muscles ached as you pushed yourself to your knees. Bucky still hasn’t said anything. It felt like the ice cracked beneath you, with anxiety wrapping its claw around your leg and pulling you underwater.

You swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath before you began extending your hand towards him. A sudden roar of laughter startled you, your heart skipped a beat as your arm snapped back beside you.

A deep rumble came from the bottom of his stomach as Bucky’s entire face lit up bright red with laughter. Bucky couldn’t stop laughing, even as he slowly stood up, assisting you to your feet as well.

You were still holding hands, giggling about what happened when Wanda skated over.

“I warned you,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

You and Bucky looked at each other, not even trying to stop the way your lips were pulling into smiles, your eyes crinkling as you both burst out with laughter.

It was decided that ice skating was over for you. You let the group know you’d be grabbing something to eat while they continued to enjoy the rink and not crash into each other.

“Do you want food food or snacks?” you asked, looking at the options of the various places within the glass atrium.

“How about both?” he answered, chuckling.

There were a lot of things to choose from so you decided to split a few things to try a bit of everything. You paid, insisting you had to after knocking into him on the ice.

Bucky carried the food to a table that was cramped in between other seats. You apologized as you elbowed him while trying to take off your jacket. It was warm inside thanks to all of the kitchens, a wonderful contrast to the weather outside. You sat underneath a canopy of lights with a perfect view of the rink and Christmas tree enjoying each other’s company.

“Are you excited?” Bucky asked about your upcoming trip as he took a swig of his spiced ale.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to go home. I haven’t been back since June.” Seeing your parents just a few times a year is not what you envisioned but you knew living in New York meant making sacrifices.

“How are you going to survive a week without me?” Bucky teased, leaning closer to you as he grabbed some fries.

You smiled, teasing back, “I’ll have to blast some music through the walls to remember you by.”

Bucky playfully nudged your shoulder and you both laughed, unaware you had company. Clint and Natasha stood in front of your table asking if they could join you. It had gotten a lot more crowded since you first got there and that felt like something you should have noticed but you and Bucky were so lost within your conversation you hadn’t paid attention.

“Mmmm this is so good,” Bucky said, with his mouthful of food, rolling his eyes back as he savored his s’mores doughnut. “Have some.”

He broke apart a large piece for you but your hands were still sticky from the caramel buns. You opened your mouth as a joke for him to feed you and unexpectedly he did, which led to more laughter as you asked for a napkin to wipe away the gooey marshmallow from the corner of your mouth.

Natasha and Clint shared a look with each other, and she smirked, raising her brow towards him. Clint signed something towards you that you didn’t quite understand. Something about you and Bucky with “sugar” possibly? You were still learning ASL so you weren’t really sure.

“Did you want some?” you pointed to your plate of desserts, in case that’s what they were talking about.

Clint declined and Natasha spoke up, repeating the word he was signing before with her hands. “It means cute.”

Your brows furrowed for a moment as you watched Clint sign again, “You look cute with Bucky.”

The realization hit you making you roll your eyes and chuckle. You brought your hand up to your mouth, closing your fingers against your thumb as you signed for him to “shut up.” This time you caught Natasha’s smirk and promptly ignored it, all while Bucky was clueless to the conversation happening in front of him.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him, staring back at Clint and Natasha.

Being back at home was a nice reprieve from constantly being on the go in New York. Here you could stop and take a breath, your mind quiet and at peace instead of hearing noise– all day there was noise. Jackhammers, car horns, people shouting, music playing. It was the music you missed the most ironically.

You had grown accustomed to Bucky as your neighbor, and even though he no longer blasted the music through the walls you were always privy to hear what he was working on.

Kicking off your comforter, you got up from the bed to grab your phone that had been charging across the room. Since you left home your parents rearranged your old bedroom into a guest room, not taking into consideration the location of outlets. You tried not to be on your phone too much considering you had been away from them for months but now as they’ve gone to sleep you’re up and kind of bored, so you decided to check in on your friends.

You scroll through notifications, watching Instagram stories of Steve teasing Sam at the gym, Wanda posted a photo with her mom and another at Pietro’s grave which made your heart feel heavy in your chest. And then there was Bucky.

He brought the smile back to your face with the latest photo he texted you. The day after you went ice skating you woke up to a surprise, a selfie of him in the mirror. His shirt was lifted up slightly revealing a very toned stomach. He faced the side mostly as one hand was pulling down the fabric of his sweatpants revealing a large deep purple bruise that seemed to spread across his hip and backside. The overly exaggerated expression of pain on his face really sold the picture and you burst out laughing.

Every few days you were sent new photos as Bucky continued to tease you about the fall and today’s was no different. His bruise faded into a greenish splotch on his skin and Bucky crudely drew the outline of a tree around it with a messy yellow star on top.

You: Cute

Bucky: You think my butt is cute?

You chuckled at the gif that followed, Milhouse suggestively raising his eyes, and promptly responded.

You: It looked better when it was purple

The rest of the night was spent texting back and forth until your eyes became too heavy and you fell asleep. A few days later you wished Bucky a Merry Christmas, bursting out with laughter during breakfast with your family as you saw his latest picture.

Bucky smiled through the white shaving cream that was spread across his face in the shape of a beard. He even coated his eyebrows with it; the perfect touch to go with his red Santa hat.

Your mom asked what was so funny but you shrugged it off saying it was nothing. You’re not exactly sure why but you supposed it was easier to dismiss it than hear a speech about dating. Besides, you and Bucky were just friends.

Finishing the final touches of your makeup you took a moment to check everything in your bathroom mirror. Makeup done, hair perfect, earrings… Now where did you put those? Oh right! Your heels clacked along your floor as you strode towards your dresser, picking up the sparkling drop earrings that went perfectly with your outfit.

Standing in front of your floor length mirror, you put them on, admiring your outfit. You were going to Clint and Natasha’s New Years Eve party and the invitation stated to dress in cocktail attire.

You picked out a beautiful dress, shimmering in blush pink sequins that fell just above your knees. The collar was high and the sleeves were long, perfect for the bitter winter of New York; though you hoped you wouldn’t be too hot considering the amount of people that were going to be packed in a small apartment.

Turning around you admired the rhinestones that decorated the heels of your champagne colored pumps. A knock at your door pulled you out of the sparkly trance and you knew it was Bucky. You agreed to be ready at this time so you could head upstairs together.

Opening the door you greeted Bucky with a big smile, taking in the way he wore the hell out of a slate blue suit. You had never seen him this dressed up before but he looked great. His shirt was a darker blue and the contrast between both really brought out his eyes.

You were so preoccupied by Bucky’s suit you completely missed the way he stood there frozen in silence. His mouth was agape, heart pounding a little harder against his chest as he just looked at you.

Realizing he had been staring for too long Bucky forced words to come out of his mouth. “Y/N… Y-you look incredible.”

Heat crept on your cheeks after hearing his comments, turning away to smile a little too awkwardly.

“I need like half a minute if that’s okay.”

“Take your time. It’s not like we have far to travel.”

Bucky made himself comfortable on your couch. Although you had music playing he couldn’t pay attention to it. His eyes were drawn to you and he felt… well truthfully he felt a bit like a creep, staring at your bare legs and those sexy heels.

Exhaling a deep breath, Bucky pulled out his phone trying to distract himself as you finished getting ready. He’s not sure what else you needed to do since you already looked perfect. Beyond perfect, you were stunning, beautiful… and there his mind goes again.

“Hey, would it be too much to ask if you can hold my keys?” you asked, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts. “My bag is small and I don’t want it scratching up my phone.”

“Yeah, ‘f course.” He smiled, standing up now that you seemed ready to go.

After locking your door Bucky secured your keys in his pocket and you walked to the elevators. His eyes were glued to your back, staring at your skin through the open cut out of the dress.

The quick ride felt awkward as Bucky forced himself to look straight ahead but it was difficult, your dress sparkled in the hazy reflection of the elevator doors. It was impossible to not look at you, shining like the brightest star against the backdrop of night.

“Wanda said Sam has to work tonight.”

He’s thankful for the small talk to focus his thoughts. “Oh really? That sucks. Is she still coming?”

The doors open and Bucky extends his arm for you to walk out first. “Yeah she’s on her way.”

You walked down the hall to Clint and Natasha’s apartment, with their front door being above Bucky’s but that’s where the similarities ended. As Natasha welcomed you inside you were in shock.

Their apartment was double the size, with a bright open space made brighter by the white walls and sleek black furniture. To the left was their kitchen with a marble island that looked wider than your bathroom. To the right was a closet and a giant bathroom complete with an enviable washer and dryer. The modern fixtures made everything look incredibly high end. Their bedroom was smaller but still they had a bedroom, unlike the studio apartments you and Bucky rented.

Natasha introduced you to some of the other guests. Some were Clint’s friends and coworkers and some were her own. She introduced her bosses, Matt and Franklin, and their dates Karen and Marci who were also her coworkers. Despite her collected exterior you knew she was nervous, this was the first time she was hosting them and she was eager to make a good impression.

Clint greeted you and Bucky offering to get you drinks. You made polite conversation with them until Steve and Peggy arrived, excusing yourself to say hello. Wanda was right behind them, pouting deeply as she sighed about not being able to kiss Sam when the ball drops.

“Foggy Bear, I’ll be right back,” Marci cooed, kissing him on the cheek, walking away with Karen following her.

He blushed, as a goofy smile spread across his face. “Heh, you know how it is.” He turned towards Bucky to ask, “How long have you and Y/N been dating?”

Bucky choked on his drink, coughing and turning a little red. “Y/N? Oh no, no, we’re just friends.” He felt a little embarrassed for making a scene, half wondering if the thoughts he had about you earlier were written all over his face.

Matt cocked his head, clasping his hands on the handle of his long cane. He wondered if he should tell Bucky he could hear the way his heart raced when Y/N was by his side. Instead he smiled in a way that said more than words could and Foggy seemed to understand.

Bucky excused himself to mingle, finally saying hello to the rest of his friends that he spent most of the night with.

“One minute until midnight!” Clint shouted, raising the volume of the television that showed shots of a crowded Times Square filled with people as frozen as they were excited to be ringing in the new year.

All of the couples quickly got together leaving you, Wanda and Bucky awkwardly standing beside each other.

“I’m gonna call Sam,” she said, heading to the bathroom for a better chance at hearing him through the noise.

The clock was ticking by and you chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

“So…”

“We don’t have to kiss,” he reassured you with a smile.

It was nice to not feel the pressure, although as you looked around the room seeing everyone together you felt out of place.

“We could though,” you said, meekly. “It’s tradition… to start the year with good fortune.”

Ten! Nine! Eight! ...

Bucky’s heart was racing quickly. “O-only if you want.”

You nodded, smiling and he swallowed a thick lump.

Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!

Cheers erupted all around you followed by only the sounds coming from the announcers on TV as everyone paired together, heads tilting to lock lips.

You smiled coyly at Bucky, looking down and chewing on your lip. He took a step closer, and you lifted your head towards his. It was all too fast and yet agonizingly slow at once as his hand raised to cup your jaw.

Your eyes locked, and you were entranced by the way his pupils grew wider the closer he got. Bucky’s gaze went down to your lips, perfectly painted lips that fell slightly open awaiting his kiss.

Bucky leaned in, his eyes beginning to close until he felt the press of your hands against his chest. A small smile tugged on his lips and Bucky closed the gap between you. Your lips were soft against his as you kissed him, parting your mouth just enough for him to feel a slip of your tongue that sent sparks flying across his body.

He kissed back, his soft lips caressing yours skillfully and unlike anything you had felt before. Your mind wandered briefly to the amount of women he’s kissed before. Have they all been like this? You push aside those thoughts to enjoy the moment, reveling in the magic of his lips. Bucky has stolen your breath away and you let him.

A soft hum fell from your lips as you let go, your foreheads pressed together now as you try and catch your breath. As the TV showed fireworks erupting over the Hudson you felt your own, exploding in the pit of your stomach, unsure if this means good fortune or something else entirely.

PART 11

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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inthisfire-ifindrain · 3 years ago

Text

What if?....I set you free

A story between The collector and Fiona, after the events of the what if episode. The link attached to the words is Fiona singing. I hope you enjoy it.

Sitting there a distance away from the commotion the large gathering of freed people and creatures started to dissipate. There was nothing she could do there was far to many. Carina comes walking up to her with a cheery smile the control bracelet still on her arm even if it was incredibly lose fitting on her. " What are you so down about Fiona we are free now!! Look he's in the cage and not going anywhere.." she gently taps on the side of the controls.

Fiona does tilt her head, the crowd now away from him she can see him, beat up and bruised from everyone's revenge. She glances back up at Carina. "Do you think it's fair though? I mean do two wrongs make a right?" She bites on her bottom lip and taps her nails on the edge of the table.

"What?" Carina asks as if Fiona was joking. "No ... maybe your not getting it... we are free!!!" She says louder bringing a cheer from the crowd around them. "So free that now you can sing and dance all over the place.. do it now.. in celebration!!" Carina grabs Fiona shoulders shaking her a bit.

"I... I don't know..its not..." Fiona is cut off by Carina. "No he's told you to shut up and keep it down far to long..." she walks over to the desk and starts up one of Fionas tracks.. the people around cheer as her singing did often cheer them up bringing some sort of happiness to the gloom of being in the cage. She stands up shaking her head at first before looking at Tivan in the distance. He didn't look mad.. he looked sad and the sadness on his face made her not feel right. She broke eye contact with Tivan as she started singing. Standing up on the table she was just sitting at.

" I left my body... down on her knees...over the bedside... watching you breathe." She moves and her body sways as the beat starts to pick up others around starting to dance.

"And I saw the fire I felt the flames

I heard the banshees Calling your name. Cause I have these new fears I carry with me, So you can feel stronger, you can know peace."

Dancing around she looks back at Tivan just as he looks at her. She keeps singing and falls to her knees. Wondering if he is listening to her song just this once. "So just hold on tight I'll be coming, I'm coming for you, oh oh And every night,

I'll be burning, burning for you, oh oh

And I will back you up, I will show you love ,I will give you all I got 'til I cannot...."

Carina looks at her with a big smile feeling free and happy for once. She doesn't seem to notice much on where Fiona is looking as she starts to dance around herself.

Tivan does look at Fiona watching her dancing around and singing at first he wasn't paying attention thinking that the one he thought wouldn't betray him had until her lyrics caught him. He hadn't heard this one before and she was looking at him. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but he could have sworn this was intentional.

She hops off the table and grabs Tivan's large fur coat and puts it on so much of it dragging behind her..... "I'll take two times the misery And half the glory

If it meant you'd be the champion

Of the story And I'll take two times the agony And half the wonder

If it meant you'd get twice

Twice the thunder" her song continued on...Carina grabbing Fiona's hands as the two girls start to dance together.

Several hours go by, the party is over the place is a full mess of empty cages, plates and cups. Her and Carina carry on now just chatting the two of them everyone else mostly long gone going home if they have one to go home too. "You know...he's got that big gigantic king bed in his room that I think should be ours now..." Carina goes on, with the controls on her arm she has quickly started behaving like she now owned it. "And I'm tired, let's go to bed?" She looked at Fiona and waved her to come along.

"No I need sometime, just a lot of the cages got opened and I need to make sure there is going to be no animal tryin to kill us in our sleep you know." Fiona stood there and crossed her arms. " you Carina you don't know how that thing works, I saw several things escape that could be deadly.. you go ahead lock the door , check the sheets and put a towel under the door to close off the gap.. " she sighed heavily.

Carina looked at her almost shocked. "Oh I didn't..realize..." she shakes her head and looks around. "No of course you didn't, if you would have payed attention to anything he said about any of his collection maybe you would have so quickly pushed buttons.. just go...I'll wrangle whats left up if it's dangerous it will go back in a cage." She turns to walk away starting her long night of creature hunting. She knew someone was going to have to, it was also and excuse to check on Tivan which she waited several minutes before hearing the door to Tivans room close and lock.

She let's out a deep breath she didn't know she was holding and quickly runs to his cage. Tivan looks up at her as he sits on the floor. "Come to finally gloat about being free? I figured you would at some point."

Fiona kneels.. "No..." she looks around making sure they are alone. "I am gonna try to get you out, Carina is wearing the only fucking key to this cage, I'm gonna have to try to get it off her.." she leans against his cage and puts her hand on it.

Tivan is confused, he won't turn away her help but is confused as to why. "So, you are coming for me then?" He quotes her song and gives a little smile, he hurts his eye is near swollen shut and he is covered in dark purple bruises. She looks more at him now that she is closer she frowns and her hand moves on the glass. "Now now.."He says to her, "I do not like it when your said you know, not then and not now..." he puts his hand up where hers is. "Well I would tell you to hurry but I have this nagging feeling I'm not going anywhere....."

This time she laughs, it's a bit unexpected but laughs at his joke. "I guess your right, strong boy stuck behind the glass...shirtless and on display." She smiles something about him not being able to touch her making her a bit braver. " I can see the value in this piece.." she says out loud before standing up quickly. "I..need to go fix things...I'll be back.."She turns and takes off. What was she thinking, she knew she had been starting to like him for such a long time but to actually be brave enough to flirt what was wrong with her. Tivan looked shocked and surprised at her words and wanted to speak but she had hurried away so quickly leaving him to slump back against the cage alone, leaving him to his thoughts, wondering what exactly she was thinking muttering to himself. "Strong boy? I'm like millions of years old...."

Running around she started to assess the cages and their tags noting ones needing to be sought out. A few of the creatures stayed closed and she was easily able to scoop them up and put them away. Her plan was to just lie to Carina make her think they were all dangerous, not like she would really look into it. She comes across another cage where there were just three eggs left. The animals long gone by the bits of blood she assumed another creature got to the parents. "Well damn..." she knew the eggs would die without her intervention, picking up one of them she holds in her hands. The egg starting to get warmer and warmer until it starts to hatch, she does it with each one until all three are hatched and she closes the cage. "I'll bring you some food in a bit babies..." she sighs.

The next few things were more dangerous, she was scratched up pretty bad by a few of them but got them into their cages eventually. The hardest being the slugs she hated them. They also horrified her, Tivan knowing how clumsy she was never let her near their cage in fear of the worst. She had gotten all but one back in the cage, struggling to make sure they didn't touch her skin and keeping tape over her mouth. Hearing Carina scream she feared the worst and she took off towards the room at a fast run. Grabbing a blade from the still open display case and now running up the stairs to the room.. she saw a man pounding at the door, deformed flshes blobs on him she knew instantly one of the slugs got into him. It hadn't yet noticed her as it banged and banged on the door trying to get to Carina.

Fiona sneaks around behind it the blade in her hand ready for an attack. "Cut off the head...kill the slug.." she told herself in her mind over and over... one quick swing of the blade and the head is detached flying across the hall she watches it and runs to it. The slug starts to slither its way out of the neck hole making its way quickly to her. Fiona goes to dodge it but it grabs onto her foot. She panicks and falls backwards kicking her foot hard it let's go and hits a wall. Sticking to the wall and regaining direction it moves again but this time Fiona is quicker the blade cuts it in half. It oozes and starts to shrivel and die.

She drops the blade and rips the tape off her mouth. Trying to get control of her breathing she could feel herself almost go into a panic. And feeling angry at Carina she slowly looks up at the door as the girl peeks her head out. "Fi...Fiona what was that..." her voice sounds hoars from screaming. "You don't even know what that thing would have done to us if it got ahold of either one of us you stupid girl..." she growls through her teeth and slowly stands straight up.

"Is.. is it dead? Why are you looking at me like that.. Fiona we are friends..why are you so angry ..." Carina looks at her confused and she is now outside the door.

"Yes its fucking dead...I took care of it... in fact I've spent the whole fucking night taking care of all of it so you can sleep soundly in his big comfy bed." She snaps and drops the blade to the floor, her cheery and bubbly demeanor has long left as she walks towards Carina. She knows the girl can't find and now everyone who could have helped her is long gone.

" We.... are not friends, you always act nothing but annoyed with me, almost from day one...now that your in charge.. we are?" She tilts her head and smiles and starts to make her way closer to the girl. Fiona lunges at Carina tackling her to the ground and pinning her. Carina let's out a yell trying to push Fiona off and almost manages to get out from under her. The two struggle back and forth the control band goes flying. Fiona has Carina now in a choke hold ontop of her as she strangles her. Not wanting to kill Carina she let's go as soon as she feels the girl pass out. Pushing her body off her she stands up and grabs the controls. Leaving the girl unconscious in the hall way.

Fiona slowly makes her way down the stairs until she is standing in front of Tivans cage looking at him for a few minutes she walks up and leans against his cage again. "Look what I found." She holds up the band. Tivan smiles at her."Well that was quicker then I expected."

She looks at him surprised. "Oh I should have taken longer your right... now that I think about I should go on a shopping spree... its on you right?" She grins and pushes the button only unlocking his cage.

Tivan comes out and stands in front of her looking down at her, he takes the controls and puts it back on pushing a few buttons and getting things back in order.

She stands there with a smile Watching him "There now everything is exactly how it should be."

"Almost..." he takes her hand and kisses it. Remembering her and Carinas earlier conversation."You look tired...would you like to sleep in the big bed tonight?" He gives her a sly grin before picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder and heading up the stairs.

#taneleer tivan #oc fiona #short story #what if spin off

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misterewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Intro to.....????

Hello everyone! Been awhile. It's been busy and really hot for me so it's hard for me to sit down to write sometimes.

But it's here!

E here with the next chapter and the final intro character chapter! The intro chapters were supposed to introduce everyone to the main and important characters of the story, who will be driving the main plots and stories though sometimes i might use new characters or different background characters. So beyond this chapter will be more worldbuilding, story arcs and oneshots. just stories about this world and its characters. I might even use some of my friends ocs i accidentally convinced them to make for my world. It was so much fun!

Alright that's it for me! Stay safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, take care of your loved ones, get vaccinated if you can, push to release the vaccine worldwide and have a great week! Enjoy! feel free to leave likes, feedback *I love feedback and comments even if it's just a line you liked or a scene you found awesome or funny* reblogs and tell your friends! Promoting myself still feels weird haha. E is out! Byeeeeee

If you want an easier time to read the story and since I’ve been shadow banned from tumblr for like ever now, here’s the newest chapter on ao3 right over here!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/82583164

If you are interested in my work and want to read from the beginning check it right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

Interested in my full catalog? https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works

Summary: Jackdaw is a powerful crime lord in the magical side of Newton Haven. He is feared more than respected and he doesn't care who he has to crush to accomplish his goals. So when his lucrative club is burned to the ground with his guards piled neatly outside, battered broken but alive, he takes it personally. Of course who is crazy enough to burn down a club of a notoriously dangerous crimeboss? A mercenary paid to do so.

Obviously.

----------

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

The sound of footsteps pacing back and forth thundered throughout the silent room.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

No one said anything. No one could say anything given the disastrous failure of the night. It hadn’t mattered if they were physically present at the site of offense or that they were scattered across town in one of many locations vital to the boss’s business: Someone hit them and the boss was itching to hit back.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

“Alright” A voice spoke up, smooth yet cold.

The room was already quiet but now the air filled with a frighten tension.

The boss whirled around from the massive window he’d been staring out of, eyes narrowing on the defeated group of guards who averted their gaze from his.

The few still conscious were in varying states of dishevel and injured: Broke bones, nasty bruises, clothing ruffled and torn in places. Not a single one had gone unscratched from the assault on the club earlier that night.

Jackdaw was not pleased.

No one in the room knew much about their boss despite devoting their lives to his cause: He was in his mid 30’s, his nose uneven after being broken in a fight though no one could agree what he had been fighting. Long wavy raven black hair ran down his shoulders while his dark brown eyes glanced about, icy and piercing.

“I’m a little confused.” Jackdaw said with a menacing drawl as he approached the closest guard “Mind answering a few for me?”

The guard nodded shakily.

Jackdaw smiled, patting the guard’s cheek in a mocking manner “Good, good. Now let me paint the picture: My club is currently a smoky, charred corpse of its former self. Yes?”

The guard gave another timid nod.

Jackdaw puckered his lips thoughtfully “Okay, okay. How many guards on duty?”

“8.” The guard murmured fearfully.

“Okay. How many standing?”

The guard shot a nervous glance to the other three. They found the floor more interesting.

“F-four.”

Crack!

The guard’s limp body tumbled backwards and laid still on the ground.

Jackdaw flexed his fingers “Wrong! I count three. You!”

The next in line flinched but stared their boss in the face “Sir?”

“Since that one.” Jackdaw lazily motioned to the unconscious man “is sleeping on the job, you tell me what happened.”

“O-okay.” The next in line mumbled “Well the night started same as any other….”

----------

The Gray Waves nightclub brought in a decent crowd for a weekday: Dozen or so people lost in the dim shadows with only a disorienting array of ever changing lights for company. Drinks served and the booming, thundering sounds of music set the chaotic mood clubs thrived on.

Nice peaceful night.

Floyd, the current storyteller, had been watching from the second floor landing when he noticed the gathering of guards below. The eight guards on duty were often out and about performing their different duties ranging from gate keeping the door to making sure nothing disturbed the vibe of the club. The fact five of his coworkers were huddled together should’ve been the first red flag.

The group talked in hushed tones despite the deafening bass and techno music the DJ’s speakers blared out. Once or twice, someone glanced to the far end of the club. Floyd looked and found the source of meeting.

Someone in their forties was loudly drinking at the counter tucked in the shadowy part of the club: It was impossible to tell who they were from this distance but they clearly were enjoying themselves: Head tiled back with messy, wavy salt and pepper hair. They gestured to the bartender (A wonderful woman named Carolyn who unfortunately had school debt to pay off and mob work was the best paying.) excitedly as their drink spilled onto the floor. They wore a large, tattered dark green trench coat that had seen better decades with faded worn out blue jeans. Their black boots were caked with grime and dirt that dirtied the floor. The only thing remotely new was their black t-shirt with some words in white font.

Floyd understood what the problem was: Clubs thrived on their popularity and image. People wanted to feel like they were special, all access stars to the hottest place in the city. With such a reputation came a mighty need to uphold said rep. No offense to whoever was having fun over there but with that look, it might send the wrong message and no amount of cash would ever change that.

Evidently a plan was reached as the meeting broke up. Two guards remained behind, returning to watching the room as the pit boss made his way over to the hapless customer, flanked with back up.

It was oddly satisfying watching the pit boss work: He gracefully slid in and out of crowds, slipping through the lost dancers like a snake treading through water. He motioned to the others to wait then made his way to the person.

The person was singing something at the top of his lungs. Drink, clink or something like that. Maybe it was the song playing at the time but Floyd hadn’t been paying attention to that at the time.

Trench Coat slipped Carolyn something and she laid a bottle of alcohol on the counter beside them: Vermouth? Absente? Vodka? One of those probably.

She nodded gratefully and disappeared into the back.

Floyd frowned at the red flag number two he had just seen: Carolyn was a pretty woman and was told more or less to just do as the customer asked be it answering questions or a reasonable request that wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Of course this was with the strict rule of not to leave the counter unattended.

At the time Floyd thought it was weird, not yet realizing what was about to unfold.

The person poured the bottle directly into their mouth, shaking their body to the catchy beat poorly. Whoever they were could not dance to save their life.

The pit boss, Malcolm, closed the distance between himself and his prey. He snuck closer and closer, the unaware customer too lost in their antics to noticed. Malcolm reached out for their shoulder and…

The thud was loud enough to cut through the noisy club and got the attention of everyone present.

Before Malcolm could even tighten his grip, the person struck: They whirled around, grabbing Malcolm’s head and smashing it into the counter. As Malcolm sunk to the floor, limp and unmoving, the person turned to shoot a smug grin towards the guards.

“I’m on the floor, floor! I love to dance!” They sang, one hand outstretched to the sky, the other gripping the bottle upside and draining its contents onto the counter.

The back up drew their weapons, standard issue nightsticks, and made their way forward.

“So give me more, more, till I can’t stand.”

They emptied the bottle, their green eyes never leaving the approaching guards.

“Get on the floor, floor, like it’s your last chance.”

They chucked the empty bottle into the wall of drinks, broken glass and different alcoholic drinks spilling onto the floor and mixing together.

“If you want more, more, then here I am!”

They pulled a match from within their coat pocket and lit it with the backside of their boot. Without looking, they threw the match over their shoulder and smiled as a raging flame broke out behind them.

The club goers were slow to realize what was going on but the remaining guards, Floyd included, mobilized to action.

Before anyone could react, however, an unexpected shrill shrieked throughout the building: The fire alarm designed to be the most annoying and loudest thing you’ve ever heard.

Even though it had been a slow night and only a dozen or so people were here, the customers panicked with a surge of three times that number.

Screams and yells filled the air as bodies shuffled about in a mad dash. The guards were thrown about, tossed this way and that while the lights, alarm and music worked together to confuse everyone.

Luckily the club was deserted within moments, leaving only security and the troublemaker.

The person hadn’t moved an inch despite the increasingly raging blaze behind them.

The back up pair approached carefully, unsure what this person was capable of.

All of them really had no idea.

The person raised their hand to the sky, belting with full force “LET’S DO THIS ONE MORE TIME!”

Without warning, silence and darkness filled the club: The fire alarm and music died suddenly. The lights followed a moment later but the raging flames, growing hungrily, remained. Floyd’s eyes watered with a sharp pain, the stuffy air and sudden shift in lighting too much for him

Floyd paused his story, uneasy growing at the sight of Jackdaw’s tightened jaw. The poor lad could actually see the veins pulsing with barely contained rage on his boss’s forehead.

“And why did the power go out?” Jackdaw asked through clenched teeth “No one was watching the power? Or the fusebox? Not a single person was guarding what I pay them to guard?”

Floyd remained silent, unsure how to answer that. He was just one of the lower rank and file guards: He got told what to do and he did it.

“Well? I’m waiting Floyd my boy! Why did the power go out?”

Floyd felt the beads of sweat run down his neck.

“Umm sir?”

Floyd nearly collapsed as one of Jackdaw’s techies nervously stepped forward, a loaded video on a tablet in hand.

Jackdaw blew a loose strain of hair out of his face and took a moment to slick back his hair. The vain gesture was enough to allow him to regain some level of composure as he snatched the tablet from the techie. With a grunt, he pressed play.

The video was short: It was a camera feed set up to watch over the fusebox to prevent tampering. Two guards were gesturing to the box, idly chatting with somebody in a red jumpsuit with a clipboard in one hand and a toolbox in the other. The back of uniform had the words “Newton Haven City Maintenance” scrawled across it in some rather hard to read font. The guards laughed out loud, jokingly patting the stranger’s shoulder before leaving frame. The city worker opened the fusebox and began tinkering without anyone stopping him.

The tablet crunched nosily as Jackdaw’s grip sent a ripple of cracks across the screen.

He turned to the techie.

“It was a routine check up.” the techie sputtered out “Our guards called it in this afternoon. Said there was an official letter with stamps and signatures and everything!”

“Did you check with me?” Jackdaw snarled “Because I pay the city specifically so they don’t send anyone to the club. Because of my illegal business practices that I perform there.”

Floyd could see the techie’s shoulder slump, whispering quietly “You were in a meeting….”

Jackdaw growled furiously but returned his attention to the nearly broken tablet.

It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes for the mysterious city maintenance worker to finish. They slammed the fusebox closed, doing a little jig before checking the contents of their toolbox and went on their merry little way.

Jackdaw’s blood froze as the figure gave a cheeky wink to the camera, knowing exactly where it was despite the magical wards in place to keep it invisible.

“Savant.”

An eerie emptiness replaced the hostility in the room.

The fight disappeared out of Jackdaw, leaving only an intense sense of dread and paranoia.

All this was lost on Floyd, who saw the troublemaker’s face and couldn’t help but blurt out “That’s them! The one who beat up Malcolm and burned the club down!”

Jackdaw chuckled darkly “Oh. Oh this makes sense. No one wonder you all get your ass kicked six ways to Sunday. Someone sic’d Savant on me. Ya’ll never had a chance against them.”

Floyd shuddered, the memory of how brutal and efficient Savant had been against them: Grown men dragged kicking and screaming into the shadows, the crunchy noises of bones broken, bodies falling down and yells stopped mid-shout. He still remembered Savant standing over him, nightstick in hand, whistling cheerfully as they brought down the weapon and sent him into unconsciousness.

“Alright!” Jackdaw clapped his hands “Lock it down!”

Everyone glanced towards one another, unsure what exactly the boss meant.

“LOCK IT DOWN!” the snarl that escaped Jackdaw’s lips sent goosebumps down everybody’s spine “NOW! I WANT THIS PLACE SEALED UP NICE AND TIGHT!”

“But we’re 14 stories up...”

Techie flinched as Jackdaw whirled around, eyes blazing with unrestrained rage and impatience “You deaf? I said lock down the building or so help me I’m going to use you as a human shield when they start coming for me.”

Techie opened his mouth when an unexpected sound filled the silence: A muffled, cheeky yet tacky melody of a cellphone ringing.

Glances and gazes looked about trying to find the source of the disturbance. Floyd was baffled when he realized it was coming from inside his coat pocket. Nervously, he reached within and slowly pulled out a palm sized flip phone, the kind hadn’t been used in decades.

Jackdaw’s eyes widened with fear and alarm as he snatched the phone from the poor guard with inhuman speed.

“It’s them!” Jackdaw’s voice was manic “IT’S THEM!”

The mobster was torn about what to do next: Answering meant playing right into Savant’s hands and whatever the mercenary had plan. On the other hand, not answering would no doubt annoy them into far worse retaliation.

With a hard shallow, Jackdaw answered with an uncharacteristically shy “Hello?”

He could feel his heart screech to a stop when a bored, almost nonchalant voice replied “S’up.”

Jackdaw threw as much charm and cheer into his voice “Savant, buddy! Pal!”

“Don’t.” the voice sighed tiredly “It’s pathetic when the begging start. You’re a big, bad mob boss. Act like it you dumbass.”

“Fine” Jackdaw let go of any sense of civility “Good old threats: if you so much as show your face around…”

“Ugh too much in the wrong direction” Savant replied, seemingly uninterested in what the mob boss had to said “You people are all the same: False bravado and overcompensating. It’s embarrassing. Just say you’re scared of me and we can move on.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Jackdaw couldn’t help but feel irritated “Oh is that what you want? Get your jollys when powerful people admit they’re afraid of you? You think you can….you can…”

Jackdaw paused, unsure if his ears were working correctly.

“Are you eating?”

“Hmm??” the sound of smacking lips and chewing was the mercenary’s response for a few moments “Oh yeah. Get hungry when working. Normally I’d be all for the theatrics but it’s been a long night what with fucking with your fusebox, burning down your club, planting the phone on a guard. It’s like 3 in the morning dude.”

Jackdaw bit his lip angrily, a single drop of blood running down his chin “It is 3 in the morning and I’m very tired so I’d very much like to conclude our business. How much?”

“To hire me?” more lip smacking “An amount. You could probably afford it.”

Jackdaw let his shoulder’s sag with relief “So it’s agreed? I’ll hire you and we can all be on our merry way.”

“Sure!” Savant said cheerfully.

Bullet dodged.

“You can hire me after I finish this job. By the way did you like the gift I sent you?”

Gift?

Jackdaw was a powerful and feared member of the illicit side of the magical world. He climbed to his position through sheer force of will and power. He left countless of his enemies broken and defeated in his wake.

To see him reduced to a flailing, paranoid mess would be a story no one would believe.

“GIFT?!” Jackdaw screamed, unable to keep the high-pitch whine out of his voice “WHAT GIFT?! SOMEONE FUCKING ANSWER ME!”

The techie was the first to shake off their stupor “Well there was a box that came in today. It was empty and we detected no magic so…”

“Box?!” Jackdaw spat as he wildly searched the room before landing on the seemingly innocent box just sitting on his desk “You brought it the fuck here?”

Everyone backed away.

“I…”

“Wait” Jackdaw cut off the techie’s answer “Maybe they were hoping you’d take it somewhere or get rid of it. No, no this is good. We’re outwitting the fucker.”

“Sir, the box was empty. And you told use you personally wanted to inspect any and all….”

“You hear that asswipe!” Jackdaw grinned ear to ear “My people are the best! We’re ahead of you. Your game is over, you hear me?”

“My man.” Savant’s voice was infuriatingly calm “It’s just a regular old box for a boring ass mobster.”

“Stop lying!” Jackdaw roared angrily, instinctively bringing down his fist on the closet object in the room.

Which of course was the box.

The parcel collapsed under the mobster’s supernatural strength with little effort. As the box was smashed, the two inert glyph drawn in an invisible ink on both ends collided and activated each other.

The room erupted in an array of dazzling, blinding lights.

The light show hadn’t lasted long but no one knew that as they stumbled around, disoriented and lost, the display still burned in their retinas.

Jackdaw howled violently, swiping at the air blindly with long talon-like nails. Any calls for explanations or help were lost under the raging mobster unleashed.

Jackdaw didn’t hear the window break, the sound of glass shattering as it rained upon the floor. He didn’t see the muzzle flash that flared across the street, Savant’s sniping perch. He knew nothing but the sudden searing pain that filled his shoulder without warning.

Everything drained out of him, he slumped to the floor like a doll. He weakly clutched at his shoulder, steam wafting off the wound as the sliver bullet dug itself deep in its new home.

It didn’t matter what kind of werebeast you were: Wolf, bear, rat or even a raven like Jackdaw. All them were deathly weakened by sliver. The mere smell could cause nausea, touch burned worse than third degree burns and any injuries could take weeks, maybe even months to heal.

Jackdaw wheezed, the room spinning in a messy blur.

“Right.” the phone landed by his ear but Savant’s voice sounded far off like it was echoing down a long tunnel “Sorry I got the paper right here.”

Muted sounds of pockets being turned inside out: Scraping of metal on brick, shuffling papers, even rustling fast food wrappers.

“Got it!” Savant beamed “Quinn says stay the fuck off his turf. Mind your lane or the next time he sends me I won’t be aiming for your shoulder.”

“How did you know I was...I was… no one knew...?” Jackdaw murmured incoherently.

“Your heart.” Savant explained “It’ll be your heart. Okay well I gotta go so take these next few months to reflect on any sort of ill advised turf wars, domestic disputes and fighting with your rivals. If you’re still interested in hiring me for revenge or whatever, you call me at my business payphone. Bye little birdy!”

----------

Savant dropped the phone to the floor, crushing it under their boot while rubbing the tension out of their neck. Around them was the standard stakeout gear: high powered and totally illegal sniper rifle, a neatly piled trash heap and a sniping pillow (Sniping’s hard on the stomach and knees.).

They packed away the gun, kicked the trash heap to make it look more like natural rooftop garbage and went downstairs.

Savant yawned tiredly, not at all concerned with the guards that were pouring out of Jackdaw’s hidey hole. They glanced around, trying to get their bearings when they noticed a hot dog vendor across the street.

“I really shouldn’t” they pursed their lips “Especially after paying for someone to set up the pyrotechnics spells. But I am hungry. Stomach wins!”

Savant made their way over, patting their stomach lovingly “One hotdog please. Everything on it.”

“You got it!” The vendor nodded before eyeing the commotion “What’s with that?”

“I don’t talk business.”

“O-kay. Umm here’s your hotdog. That’ll be two bucks.

Savant reached into their pocket and shoved a hundred dollars into the waiting vendor’s hand. Without a second look, Savant gratefully took the hotdog and walked away.

“Hey buddy! BUDDY! You gave me way too much!”

“You too!” Savant replied, took caught up in the rapture that was their meal.

This was a really fucking good hotdog.

#my work #Original Work #original story #my stuff

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luxekook · 5 years ago

Text

trivia love | knj

⇥ pairing: kim namjoon x reader

⇥ genre: non-idol au with fluff and smut

⇥ summary: in which the reader and namjoon become ridiculously attracted to each other over weekly late night trivia sessions

⇥ word count: 5.4k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, terrible trivia team names, namjoon being devastating, low-key exhibitionism, smut in a bar bathroom, oral (f receiving), sub!joon, switch!reader, everyone being nerdy af

Weekly trivia used to be so fun. Your team - The Multiple Scoregasms - used to demolish the competition with ease. You used to be able to think so clearly and answer so correctly. You used to revel in the free drinks earned with your $20 bar credit winnings.

Keywords: used to

For the last two Thursdays, not only had your team lost miserably, you seemed to have lost all recollection past your own name.

The reason? Team Text Us, We're Single.

First of all, their team name was highly deceptive. There was no way that all seven of those beautiful team members were single. It was absolutely ludicrous.

Second of all, only one member of the group seemed to even take trivia seriously. And they still won. Twice.

And last of all, you were high-key attracted to said member. You sighed, thinking back to simpler times before you first saw him two Thursdays ago…

The first thing you saw when you walked into Queenie’s Bar was a squad of middle-aged men debating the merits of Draco Malfoy’s redemption arc.

And the second? Just the cutest smiling boy you’d ever seen in the entirety of your existence. He was tall and deliciously tan, with cute dimples that surfaced suddenly when he smiled at the bartender in thanks.

As you stood in the archway of the bar gaping at this dimpled god, you got jostled from behind by your friend Olivia. “What’s the hold up? Go claim our usual table, (y/n)! I’ll get the drinks.”

You snapped out of your reverie. Cute boy or not, he was likely to be part of tonight’s competition; and, therefore, you needed to annihilate him accordingly.

Nodding inwardly, you stalked past the men who now had moved on from Draco to a heated argument surrounding house-elves and their rights.  “Hermione just dropped her whole campaign! S.P.E.W. was never mentioned again!” One man thrust his hand through his thinning hair in exasperation, “God, did the campaign buttons mean nothing?”

You cracked a smile as you settled into your usual table in the middle of the crowded bar. You loved Thursday night trivia with everything you had.

Thursdays brought in an eclectic sort of crowd to Queenie’s. The groups scattered throughout the bar represented everyone from middle aged Potterheads to skulking e-boys to nerdy young adults (READ: you) and - apparently - to models (READ: Dimples).

You spotted your roommate Jordan and your friend Marlene hurrying through the door and raised a hand to wave them down. Marlene noticed you first and yelled, “Yo, (y/n)!”

Typically, you would have been embarrassed by this behavior, but it happened each week without fail. So, you just gave a half-assed salute.

The only thing that Marlene, the only extrovert in your circle of friends, loved more than being the center of attention was forcing the rest of you into the spotlight with her.

Her reasoning? Something about comfort zones and shit. Your reasoning? Pure evil.

Jordan rolled his eyes at you and grabbed Marlene, dragging her over to your table. “She needs to be stopped,” Jordan said in lieu of a greeting, “She’s a menace to introverts everywhere.”

“Puh-lease,” Marlene plopped into her seat dramatically, “Y’all love me. Besides, if you got rid of me, who would do speed trivia rounds for you?”

You and Jordan exchanged a panicked look at the mere thought of being put on the spot in front of a large crowd. “You make a convincing argument,” you sighed, “I guess we’ll keep you.”

“Well,” Marlene concentrated on something over your shoulder, “I might leave voluntarily if other teams are out here looking like that.”

You turned, seeking out the team in question, and locked eyes with Dimples. He blushed furiously and ducked his head, blonde hair falling to cover his eyes. His friend to his left, equally as attractive, gave Dimples a weird look and shoved his shoulder. You whipped back around before you got caught staring - again.

“What the fuck?” Jordan whispers-yelled across the table to you, “Do you know that boy, (y/n)?”

“No,” you choked out, already halfway to whipped over someone you’d never even met.

“Well, damn,” Olivia finally arrived, somehow successfully holding four drinks, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” Marlene smirked, “Just a cute boy thirsting over (y/n) from afar.”

“He is not thirsting!” Your disclaimer went by unacknowledged.

“Oooh, we love a thirsty boy,” Olivia slid into her seat next to you and turned around to assess the crowd, “Shit. Which one is he? All the boys at that table are hot.”

“The one with the dimples,” you automatically answered, your mind replaying his squinty-eyed smile in full HD.

“Whoa, hold on a minute,” Marlene whipped out her pen and notepad like she was about to take notes, “Now, how do you know he has dimples?”

“Uh,” you sank low in your seat, “A good guess?”

“Nope, try again,” Jordan cackled, “You twirl your hair when you’re lying, bitch.”

Goddamnit. You released your traitorous hand from your hair immediately. “Fine, because I saw him smiling when I arrived, okay?”

“Interesting,” Marlene scribbled gibberish on her notepad, “And how do you feel about that?”

Now, two long weeks later, you still had no idea how to answer that question. However, you did know that you longed to talk with him for hours and absorb the knowledge he seemed to hold in every crevice of his brain. You did know that a darker part of you wanted to see him kneeling before you, completely at your mercy. You did know that his thighs were distracting, to the point where you accidentally dumped your entire beer down your shirt because you were too gaping at the way he leaned over the bar to order drinks.

And, unfortunately, you did know that he seemed to be equally distracted by you. This bit of knowledge came via your friends; and, therefore, you were in full denial.

“Question nine,” the bartender-turned-announcer cleared her throat, jolting you from your inner thoughts. “Who wrote 1818’s Frankenstein?”

“Mary Shelley!” You whispered across the table to Jordan, who then scrawled the name onto your team’s answer sheet. Satisfied, you shot a furtive glance around the bar and frowned as the surrounding teams all seemed to be confident in their answers as well. Your gaze strategically skipped past the table in the back section of the bar before returning to face your teammates.

From her seat next to Jordan, Marlene spotted something in the very direction you had been avoiding and giggled, “Dimples is staring. Bottoms up, fam.”

“Again?” Olivia rolled her eyes and drank from her dwindling gin and tonic. “He just looked at her, like, thirty seconds ago!”

Your eyes swung to Jordan as he attempted to covertly take a sip of his vodka cranberry.

“Please tell me you all aren’t drinking every time he looks over here,” you groaned, crossing your arms, “How are you even sure that he's looking at me?”

“Maybe because his eyes were glued to your ass when you walked by his table earlier on the way to the bathroom,” Olivia cackled, “I mean, I can’t blame the guy. Those jeans really do make you look thick.”

“And that’s ‘thick’ with at least three C’s and possibly a Q,” Marlene added, shooting you a thumbs up and nod of approval.

Jordan arched an eyebrow slyly, sipped his mixed drink, and drawled,“Well, why do you think she wore them?”

That snake!

“Top ten anime betrayals,” you whispered, eyes wide in the wake of being exposed.

Marlene and Olivia gasped in unison and turned towards you. Olivia hissed, “You bitch. Have you been holding out on us? Have you been seducing him?”

“Question ten,” the announcement blared from the bar’s speakers, saving you briefly from the brewing interrogation you felt was headed your way. “What novel begins with the words 'Call me Ishmael’?”

“Moby Dick,” Marlene answered, “Now, back to the matter at hand. I cannot believe you didn’t tell us this crucial information. We could have been scheming together if we knew you liked him.”

“Like him?!” Your shriek drew the attention of the neighboring table, and you shot them a sheepish smile. When they finally looked away, you immediately reverted back to your murderous state, “I don’t even know his name! And when have you been scheming?”

“Fine,” Jordan acquiesced, stirring his paper straw around his drink, “Maybe you don’t like him yet, but you definitely want to sit on his dick. Am I right or am I right?”

Gleefully, Marlene and Olivia faced you with fierce looks of anticipation.

“Fine,” you sniffed, trying to scrape your shredded dignity off the floor, “Yes, I want to sit on his dick. Is that so wrong?”

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Olivia rubbed her palms together, grinning deviously, "I mean, we already know he's into you. Why can't you just say something to him?"

You looked at her like she had just spoken Latin backwards, "Have you seen him? He’s so sweet. I could ruin him.”

“I don’t think he’d even mind though,” Marlene sighed, gazing over at the boy in question.

Jordan snorted as you buried your head in your hands and audibly prayed for anyone out there to take pity on you.

"We're moving on to our next category, folks," the bar's sound system crackled to life, answering your prayers, "Harry Potter."

"Oh, fuck yeah," You and Marlene - resident Harry Potter dweebs - exchanged high fives. Finally, a category you could probably win with your mind functioning on minimal capacity.

"Question eleven: In the Goblet of Fire, who poses as Mad-Eye Moody, Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

"Barty Crouch," you and Marlene said, pausing for dramatic effect, "Junior."

You cracked up as Jordan and Olivia shook their heads. "I question our friendship every damn day," Olivia joked, gazing off into the metaphorical distance - aka at the wall.

"You love us, bitch-ass," Marlene aimed a kick in Olivia’s direction under the table.

You grinned at their antics and went to take a sip from your beer, only to discover it empty. "Another round?" You ask your friends, standing to head over to the bar.

"Yes, please," Jordan groaned, "Anything to make it through these next four questions."

"Anyone - besides Jordan - want another round?" You revised your original statement aloud.

"Wow, have I mentioned I love Harry Potter lately? Like, yes, ten points to Hogwarts, bitch," Olivia thrust her empty glass in the air.

"That's not even how House Points work, Liv," Marlene sighed, "Solid B- for effort."

You turned to leave. "Wait!" Jordan drew your attention back to your group, "Stick your ass out when you order. He'll be watching." He shot a quick glance in He Who Shall Not Be Named (Because You Don't Know It)'s direction. "Oh, wait. He already is. Go get 'em, Hedwig."

You inwardly screamed at the knowledge that you were being watched by the current focus of your attraction and decided not to comment before leaving.

"Hedwig?" You heard Marlene addressing Jordan as you walked away, "Did you mean Hermione? Hedwig is Harry’s fucking owl. RIP, by the way."

God, you loved your friends.

Arriving at the large wooden bar running the length of the room, you flagged down one of the bartenders and circled a finger in the air to indicate another round. You and your friends came often enough for most of the staff to know your orders by heart. It was awesome.

"Question twelve!" The sound jolted you upright. You hadn't noticed you were standing right next to one of the extra speakers the bar used for trivia. Idiot, you cursed yourself, why must you be like this?

"Why was the Whomping Willow planted?" Cringing again at the volume, you craned your neck and located Marlene, who gave you an affirmative nod of 'I got this, fam.'

"Here you go!" The bartender placed your drinks in front of you, "Same tab?"

"Yes, please," You nodded, attempting to smoothly grab all four drinks, "Thank you!"

"Need some help?" The sweetest voice you had ever heard in your life sounded from your left side. You slowly turned your head to face its source and was equally as stunned by the beautiful boy in front of you.

This was one of Dimples’ teammates - one of the Team Text Us, We're Single boys.

"Um," your brain resembled the scene from Spongebob where he forgot his name. Your eyes darted over the boy's shoulder in a deliberate attempt to avoid his cute scrunched eyes and wide smile. But, you were only faced with something even more devastating.

Six boys openly gaped at you from the back table. When you caught their eyes, three looked away, two grinned shamelessly, and one blushed right to the tips of his ears.

Cute. Your insides turned to mush over how adorable your Dimples was.

"They're the worst, right?” The boy in front of you commanded your attention once more, "So nosy. Now, let me help you. I'm Jimin, by the way, from Team Text--"

"Us, We're Single," you finished, "Yeah, you guys beat us the last two Thursdays. We had such a nice winning streak going, too."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Jimin smiled wide, "Most of us don't even care about trivia."

"That makes it even worse," you groaned, sliding two drinks his way, "I'm (y/n), from The Multiple--"

"Scoregasms," Jimin laughed, "Awesome name."

"Thanks!" Your confidence soared at his praise and you smiled genuinely, "It's some of my best work."

"Question thirteen!"

"Oh shit," Jimin muttered, "Let's go before I miss any more questions. Joon will have my ass on a platter."

You nodded, mind whirring to try to determine which team member this 'Joon' was. Maybe the intimidating-looking boy with the bleached blonde hair pushed back in a headband? Or the really muscular one in all black with the doe eyes and long brown hair?

"When Dumbledore and Harry first visit Horace Slughorn, what is he disguised as?"

At the question, you grabbed the two remaining drinks and head back to your table with Jimin following close behind. As soon as you began your journey, you rolled your eyes at the completely obvious way your friends were pretending they hadn’t been watching you and Jimin interact this entire time.

You had never seen them having such an animated conversation about... "Bagels are so good! I love how you can choose from so many different types, like cinnamon raisin, sesame, blueberry, honey wheat--"

"Hi," you forcefully placed the drinks down in front of your friends and succeeded in interrupting Marlene's riveting tirade about bagels, "This is Jimin. He was kind enough to help me."

"Hey, Jimin," Jordan eyed the boy appreciatively, "Decided to scope out the competition, huh?"

"Honestly, sort of," Jimin chuckled. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, not liking the sly edge his grin took on in the slightest.

"Well, hopefully (y/n) didn't give much away," Olivia giggled, staring up at Jimin with heart eyes, "She's our team leader."

"Damn straight." You plopped back down in your chair, "Want to sit with us? We can grab an extra chair from a nearby table."

"Nah," Jimin glanced over his shoulder at where his teammates were probably still staring, "I should get back. Want to hang out after trivia though? We can merge tables!"

Before you could even answer, Marlene enthused, "Yes! That would be so fun. Don't you think, (y/n)?"

You gave her your most lethal side-eye, catching onto what seemed to be happening here, "Yes... so fun."

"Great!" Jimin ignored your dry tone, "Talk to you later then!"

You all watched as he sauntered away.

"Damn," Olivia sighed, "That boy is fine." You nodded sagely as your eyes stayed glued to Jimin's firm ass as he walked away in those tight jeans.

"So, what's the plan, team?" Jordan clapped, "We have T minus twenty minutes to get 'Operation Get (y/n) Dicked Down' up and running. Let's do this."

God, you hated your friends.

Twenty minutes later, your team had solidly lost. However, unlike the last two weeks, your loss did not come as a surprise or alongside any hard feelings. You four were too busy prepping to hang out with seven intimidatingly hot boys.

You were the only one not excited.

“And that concludes trivia for tonight, folks,” the bartender announced, “Team Text Us, We’re Single wins once again. Please come to the bar to collect your bar credits, lads.”

“Oh my god, okay, it’s happening,” Jordan bounced up and down in his seat as you all watched the bar start to clear out, “Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.”

“I don’t know how you have any room to call (y/n) and I nerds while you straight up quote The Office, Jord,” Marlene laughed.

“The Office is an Emmy award-winning show,” Jordan sniffed, “Come at me when Harry Potter wins a Pulitzer.”

“The Pulitzer is only for American authors,” Marlene cried.

“I rest my case,” Jordan lifted his glass.

“What?” Marlene yelped, “That makes literally no sense.”

“As much as I hate to interrupt this fascinating argument,” Olivia drawled, “We’re being summoned.”

You gulped, glancing behind you. Sure enough, Jimin was flagging you all down from across the bar, while a few of his teammates dragged over an empty table towards their own.

“Shit, I guess this is it,” you sighed.

“Jesus, you’re not going off to war, (y/n),” Jordan rolled his eyes, “You’re literally about to meet the your trivia daddy.”

“Please— and I cannot stress this enough,” you paused, “Never say that again.” With that, you stood, grabbing your drink and sauntering over towards Jimin with all the confidence you could possibly summon.

You heard your friends’ laughter behind you, and you discreetly flashed them the middle finger behind you back.

“Hey, Jimin,” you smiled at the boy as he greeted you and your friends.

“Hi, welcome!” His eyes were completely encompassed by his cheeks, and you internally screeched at his cuteness.

“This is Taehyung,” Jimin gestured to the curly-haired boy to his right. Taehyung greeted you all with a deep ‘Hi’ and a peace sign.

“Yoongi,” Jimin pointed towards the intimidating boy you noticed earlier with the bleached hair and the headband. Yoongi only nodded in your general vicinity as greeting.

“Hi, I’m Jin!” The stunningly handsome boy at the end of the table burst out, evidently unable to wait until he was introduced. Jin blew you all a kiss as his friends groaned.

“Please ignore him,” Jimin rolled his eyes before moving on, “Those two are Hoseok and Jungkook.” Jimin gestures towards the bar where two boys were collecting two pitchers of beer.

“And, last but not least, our trivia leader Namjoon,” Jimin’s grin turned devious as the boy in question raised his hand in greeting and ducked his head back down.

“Please sit,” Jimin gestured towards the scattered empty chairs amongst his group.

“(Y/n)!” Jin called suddenly, his arm flopping frantically in the air, “Come sit next to me!”

Your eyebrows shot all the way up as your heartbeat accelerated. Sitting next to Jin meant sitting next to Namjoon - your Dimples.

Nodding, you made your way over. It would be rude to refuse his request, and you could not help but wonder if Namjoon’s friends were also schemers.

You rounded the corner of the table and plopped down between the two boys. “H-hi,” you offered, eloquent as ever. You sipped your beer to cover up your burning embarrassment.

“Hi,” Jin grinned at you, “Thanks for joining us at the handsome end of the table.”

You choked on your beer, before cracking up, “The handsome end?” You loved this boy already and couldn’t resist the urge to tease him, “Oh, you meant Namjoon.” You shot the boy you just mentioned a sly smile as Jin spluttered.

Namjoon cocked his head slightly as he slowly broke into a shy smile, “Yeah, he definitely did, (y/n).”

Lord Almighty, the way he said your named almost sounded like a confession.

“Oh, this is insane, you fools!” Jin shook with incredulity, “I am worldwide handsome. Not Namjoon. Ugh, I need new friends.”

Jin stood and skulked over to the other side of the table as you all laughed. He was so extra, you could already tell. However, his antics had done wonders for your nerves.

Turning back to Namjoon, you leaned in closer, “Did he just make an Always Sunny reference? Or was that just me?”

Namjoon nodded, eyes glinting in amusement, “He did. You watch that show, too?”

Your conversation delved into your favorite shows, your favorite movies, your favorite meals. You felt like you had known Namjoon forever with how comfortable you already were with each other. Yet, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes strayed to your lips every so often or how his hands crept closer to your thigh with every parting word.

The boy was into you. You were almost 85% sure of it. So, you decided to test him.

In the middle of Namjoon’s story about the time Jungkook almost burned down his apartment complex, you slid your hand over his. Namjoon paused, and you looked up innocently. He gulped and continued.

You smiled viciously on the inside. Your fingers played with his, intertwining with them, playing with his rings, brushing over his palm.

As Namjoon’s story drew to a close, you tugged his hand onto your thigh and released it. Nonchalantly, you picked up your beer and took a sip.

Shooting the boy a quick glance in your periphery, you found him staring openmouthed at his own hand encompassing your thigh. He gave your thigh a tentative squeeze, and you hummed in content. His eyes shot to yours.

“W-what are you doing?” Namjoon’s pupils were dilated as he blinked at you.

“I just wanted your hand on me, Joon,” you pouted, “You can take it off if you want.”

You moved to shift his hand off you, but his grip tightened. “I like having my hands on you, (y/n),” he said, his voice deeper than ever, “I also like you calling me ‘Joon’.”

“Two more things we can agree on,” you smiled at him, stomach full of butterflies and anticipation. Glancing around you, you realized that your friends were dispersed throughout the bar.

Marlene, Jordan, Hoseok, and Jungkook were dancing wildly in the middle of the bar’s tiny dance-floor. Jimin and Taehyung were bothering the DJ to presumably keep playing an assortment of random songs from the early 2000s.

Olivia, Yoongi, and Jin sat at the bar, watching the others and laughing as Jungkook kept hitting the whoa no matter what song played. Currently, he was hitting the whoa to Baby Got Back.

Turning back to Namjoon, you find him looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“What?” you questioned, eyes searching his inquisitively.

He shoved a hand through his messy hair. “You’re so intimidating, (y/n). You’re so smart and beautiful, and it messes with my brain.”

“You’re intimidated by me?” You arched an eyebrow before smiling sweetly, “I promise I don’t bite… Unless you want me to.”

“I do,” he answered automatically. You both paused. His eyes widened comically, “F-forget I said that.”

“You want me to bite you, Joonie?” You sighed into his ear, relishing in his shiver, “You want me to mark your pretty skin?”

“Yes,” he breathed out.

“Okay,” your mouth descended to his neck, searching for a weak spot. His breath hitched as your mouth neared his thrumming pulse point. Bingo.

You placed an open-mouthed kiss onto his warm skin before sucking lightly. Namjoon moaned, shifting in his seat.

You bit down, and his hips bucked instinctively. Pulling back slightly, you licked over the mark that was slowly blooming on his neck.

The clear imprint of your teeth on his neck had you grinning like a fool. You really wanted to own this cute, shy, intelligent boy.

You looked up at Namjoon. He was watching you with his puffy lips parted, his breathing hard. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, eyes focused on his. He nodded frantically, and your lips tugged up in a small smile.

Slowly, you inched your mouth closer towards his. Your breaths mingled. You pressed your lips to his gently and wrapped your arms around his neck.

You kept kissing Namjoon until you finally had to come up for air. Leaning your forehead against his, you locked eyes, breathing each other in.

“Can I sit on your lap, Joon?” You asked in between peppering kisses on his reddened cheeks.

After getting a nod in confirmation, you straddled his lap and returned your lips to his. The small part of your brain still thinking rationally reminded you that you were in a very public bar. The much larger and irrational part of your brain urged you on as your hips shamelessly grind onto Namjoon’s. The hardened cock that you felt through his jeans was too tempting. And, besides, exhibitionism was fun, right?

You bit down on Namjoon’s bottom lip, and he thrust against you.

You broke away and turned your head to the side, needing another moment to breathe. Namjoon began to kiss your neck, and you let out a small laugh as he nipped at your skin. He was marking you right back.

Namjoon lifted his head again as your lips parted. His face was inches away from yours. He stared at you like a starving man.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon said lowly, “I’m beginning to think you might be the devil, because you just snatched my soul.”

You stared at him. “That was so goddamned cheesy.” Your giggles made him turn an interesting shade of maroon.

“I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Jin-hyung,” you heard him mutter before you captured his lips once more.

As you kissed, his fingers slowly inched downwards, caressing you. You decided then and there that you would have this boy.

“Undo my jeans,” you commanded after pulling away from his mouth. His eager fingers dropped to your zipper, fumbling in their haste. Once your jeans were undone, you felt him hesitate. You instructed him, “I need your fingers.”

He thrust a finger into you. “Mm, Joon,” you dropped your head into the crevice of his neck as he pumped another one in, stretching you. His fingers curled inside you, as you shifted your hips.

“Rub my clit,” You demanded, and he pulled his fingers out and circled it immediately. You moaned at both the new sensation and at the loss of his fingers inside you. “Keep your fingers in me, use your thumb.” You gripped onto the back of his head, pulling on his hair in punishment.

His fingers thrust back into you without warning as his thumb circled your clit. You felt yourself clenching around him, so close to coming just from his hands. Still, you needed more. You were definitely a greedy bitch.

You pulled his hand from your pants, and he stared at his fingers, which were sticky with you. You watched enraptured as he lifted his wet fingers to his lips and sucked.

His eyes widened, “Fuck, (y/n), you taste so good. You have to let me eat you out. You need to let me put my head between your thighs. Please.”

“Bathroom,” you gasped out, “Now.” You shimmied off of Namjoon’s lap and onto shaky legs.

“Follow me in one minute,” you kissed his cheek and tried your best to casually make your way to the bathroom. However, you were pretty sure you had already blown all efforts to be casual as soon as you sat on Namjoon.

Finally, you entered the empty single-stall bathroom and let out a sigh of relief.

Two seconds later, a knock sounded. You barely opened the door wide enough before Namjoon was all over you. His hands gripped your ass as he backed you against the wall next to the sink.

He gazed down at you with hooded eyes, “You still want this, right?”

“Yes, Joon,” you leaned up to kiss him one more time.

Namjoon sank to his knees before you.

You audibly moaned at the sight. Quickly, you tugged your jeans down your legs and kicked them to the side. Your underwear followed suit.

Namjoon cursed lowly as you lifted a leg onto the ledge of the sink, baring everything to him. “Well,” you smirked, “You wanted to put that smart mouth on me.”

“You are going to kill me,” he muttered. His hot mouth closed over your clit. Parting your lips, he caressed you as he sucked and licked. His fingers thrust into you once more, pulling out slowly then pummeling back in.

“Harder,” you moaned. He fucked you faster, adding another finger, stretching you.

He pulled his mouth away from you, his lips swollen and pink. “How the fuck can you taste this good?” He panted as he carried on fucking you with his fingers, grabbing at your ass with his free hand.

His mouth returned to your pussy, circling your clit with his tongue and moaning against it. His fingers continued to push into you relentlessly.

You felt your toes curl as your orgasm approached at a maddening rate. “J-Joon,” you cried his name, your back arching as the pleasure built up with each stroke of his tongue and movement of his fingers.

Without warning, he sucked on your clit harshly, and you came, clenching around his fingers. Namjoon continued to pump them in and out of you, carrying you through your orgasm. He licked your pussy, lapping up everything you gave him with his tongue. After a bit, your fingers wound into his hair and pulled. “Stop,” you begged, legs shaking with overstimulation.

He pulled back immediately and lifted his head, looking thoroughly fucked-out. His lips were more swollen than ever. His hair was a tangled mess. You had never seen anything better. “God, you look so sexy right now,” you mused, reaching a hand to stroke at his cheek.

“Are you guys finally done in there?” You cringed as Jordan’s amused voice shouted at you through the bathroom door, “You have work tomorrow, (y/n).”

“Jesus H. Christ, Jordan! Go away!” You screamed back at your infuriating roommate.

“…I’m going to take that as a ‘yes’,” he replied, laughing, “See you out there, champ.”

“I’m going to murder him,” you seethed, accepting your jeans from Namjoon who held them silently out to you.

You scanned the floor of the bathroom, “Wait, where’s my underwear?”

Namjoon’s cheeks flooded with color as he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “I needed some form of reminder of tonight.”

You shrugged, giggling as you tugged on your jeans, “Let’s make a trade.”

“I’m listening,” he grinned, goddamned dimples popping out and making you want to kiss him forever.

“You keep my panties; I keep you,” you grinned back at him.

He blinked rapidly, “Keep me?” You nodded, nerves erupting. Had you misread the situation? Did he just want this to be a one-time thing? Shit, had you royally fucked this up already?

He kissed you suddenly, and you relaxed.

“Please keep me,” he mumbled, “I’m a mess, but I can be your mess if you’d let me.”

“We can be messy together,” you gripped his hand in yours, “Now, come on. We have to go face our friends.”

Namjoon gulped, looking rightfully terrified at that prospect. “Or we could sneak out the back?”

A smirk wound its way onto your face, “I really do like the way you think, Joonie. Let’s go.”

With that, the two of you snuck out of the bathroom and out the backdoor of the bar.

“I knew it!” Marlene and Jimin greeted the two of you with triumphant fists thrust high in the air. Jimin whipped his phone out before you or Namjoon could even say a word. “Hey, hyung? Yeah. They’re out here.”

Ignoring the gloating pair, you turned to Namjoon, “We could still make a run for it?”

He met your eyes; and, without a word, you both took off.

Shouts of your names followed you down the dark alley as you both cracked up. This was definitely not how you had pictured your typical Thursday trivia night to go down, but you were not disappointed. No, you shot the boy running beside you an affectionate look, you weren’t disappointed at all.

#bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #180knet #hyunglinenetwork #namjoon #knj #namjoon x reader #knj x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #namjoon smut #knj smut #kim namjoon

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frodos-bizarre-adventure · 3 years ago

Text

@gingerreggg thanks for the shoutout

Heads Up- Part 11 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

That night was a troubled night for Caesar.

As a living clay figure, he was unbothered by human needs, like food, water or air. The sole exception was sleep-- he never felt physically tired, but his mind demanded rest, and even he needed some shut-eye to keep his thoughts in check.

Except tonight, sleep refused to visit him.

Caesar was troubled by the revelation of his identity. Was he once a living man? Was he really Anthonio Zeppeli returned from the dead? Caesar didn't want to believe it. He couldn't quite grasp the reality of his rebirth as a work of art.

Yet, at the same time, he felt there was no other possible explanation.

The night dragged on, slowly and arduously, and all Caesar could do was watch the wall clock slowly tick along, and see the progression of the moon across the night sky from outside the window, little standards of change that reminded Caesar of the passage of time.

Eventually, his eyes grew too heavy, and soon his thoughts calmed down as he began to dream.

---------

Where am I, he thought to himself, as he wiped his forehead with back of his hand.

Caesar paused.

Hand?

He looked down. He indeed had a hand.

And arms, and legs, and a body.

Caesar looked around. He realized he was in front of some kind of building, adorned with gothic-style structures on its top. He had been sitting directly in its shade, clad in dusty overalls and a dark shirt underneath.

"Anthonio!" yelled a voice. "Quit sitting around and get your job done!"

Caesar tried to stand up, uncertainly, as he no longer quite remembered what it was like having arms and legs. They felt strange, almost wrong, like parts of his body that shouldn't be.

"Alright, alright," Caesar told the unseen voice. "What do you want me to do?"

"Weren't you supposed to be working on your mural?" it said, and Caesar, looking up, saw a ladder leaned up against the wall.

He saw the mural, an unfinished sculpted work of a dove in flight, with above it a large, stone crucifix. This building seemed to have had once been a cathedral but was converted into a hotel and attraction, while still keeping its original visual style.

"You better get this job done soon if you want to get paid," complained the unseen voice, irately.

"I'm onto it!" Caesar yelled back. He ascended the ladder, tentatively and uneasily due to his newfound limbs, toward the top where his-- no, Anthonio's-- mural sat unfinished.

Or maybe he was Anthonio.

Caesar reached the top, and pulled out a chisel from a belt in his overralls. He didn't remember quite how to use it. Hell, he didn't even know how to use his hands.

"Maybe like this?" he mumbled to himself, chipping away at the part of the mural that was the dove's head. He struck the stone etching.

And then suddenly, it began to crack.

"Shit!" was all Caesar could cry out as the entire mural began to break apart, the elegant avian form on the mural suddenly tearing itself apart and crumbling as it did so. The entire front of the hotel began to crack.

"Anthonio!" cried the disembodied voice again.

Suddenly, Caesar felt himself falling.

He was toppling backwards over the ladder, falling fourty, fifty feet, down onto the hard, solid pavement below.

And as he looked up, the last thing he saw was the dark silhouette of a crucifix, descending upon him as it blotted out the sunlight

He felt a surge of agonizing pain, and then nothingness.

--------

Caesar's eyes snapped open in a panic.

He was going to die.

No, he was already dead.

Caesar panicked for a moment at the realization that he couldn't feel anything below his neck. His body was gone.

And then he remembered: he didn't have a body.

Caesar looked around. He was in Joseph's room again, sitting by the tabletop. It was still nighttime, and Joseph lay snoring loudly on the bed, clad only in shorts.

Caesar sighed. It was all just a dream.

"Joseph?" he said. "Joseph..."

"Hnghhh..." groaned the artist, his eyes flickering and fluttering open. "It's still dark, Caesar. Go back to sleep."

"I can't, Jojo. I can't sleep." he said.

Rubbing his eyes, Joseph sat up in his bed and stretched out. "What's the matter, Cae? Had too much coffee before bed?" Joseph joked, knowing all too well the bust's reaction to Joseph bringing up his inability to drink or eat.

But today, the clay being had no power for snarky bantering.

"I'm just...having bad dreams lately." Caesar said sadly.

"About what?" Joseph asked.

Caesar sighed, a long, heavy sigh of grief.

"Do you really think I am Anthonio Zeppeli's soul imprisoned in a clay figure?" he said.

Joseph reached out to Caesar's shoulder, as if to hold his hand, had he had any.

"I wouldn't say imprisoned," Joseph said. "If it's true, as Suzi had said, I think you were given a second chance."

"A second chance at what? Anthonio had been a successful artist, and all I am is a clay head, useful for nothing," he lamented.

Joseph hugged his creation. "You're a living miracle, Caesar. You're a work of art with a soul, in more ways than one. You've made my life better, and a bit more colorful, since you came, and I think that's purpose enough."

"Plus, you make a great alarm clock," Joseph added jokingly. The last crack was enough to force a smile onto Caesar's distraught face.

Joseph yawned. "And speaking of clocks, it's just 2 AM," Joseph hummed. "I ought to be getting back to bed."

"Can I sleep beside you?" Caesar asked.

Joseph paused at the strange request. "Sleep beside me?" he asked.

"I mean, if it's alright with you," Caesar added, apologetically. "I've just have been really lonely."

"Sure thing, no problem," Joseph said. With some effort he gently lifted up the bust, and laid him onto the bed. With his face and hair varnished, Joseph no longer needed to worry about Caesar's details flattening out when he laid him sideways.

Normally Caesar didn't like soft surfaces: he was unable to bounce, and he felt even more helpless than he already was. But this was different: embraced by Joseph, as they lay side by side, Caesar never felt more loved in his brief existence. Not just loved as a masterpiece, but loved as a person.

He felt fulfilled. He felt important.

He looked back at Joseph, who had fallen asleep again, messy-haired and shirtless, embracing Caesar's vestigal torso like a pillow, and lightly snoring. Caesar looked lovingly at him for a few more minutes, until he, at last, fell asleep.

If I could only hug him back, came the final thought in Caesar's head for the night, before weariness in the end took over, leaving both sculptor and sculpture entwined in peaceful slumber.

--------

"Aw shit," Joseph groaned as the sickeningly sweet smell of burnt pancakes filled the early morning air. "I hope you like it well done," he joked, flipping the charred patty onto a plate.

"And that's why I'm glad you didn't take culinary arts," Suzi replied with a laugh, as she sat by the kitchen table with Caesar on the tabletop.

"By the way, I love these little elevators you made for Caesar!" Suzi complimented, examining the dumbwaiter-like contraptions Joseph built to help Caesar get up onto tables or back onto the floor. "You really worked hard to give him independence."

"He needs it," Joseph answered. "It's the best I could do for him."

Caesar, meanwhile, had plenty of questions to ask Suzi ever since she spoke of his magical origins.

"Say, how long did the clay beings live, in those legend you found?" Caesar asked, a bit uneasily. "My existence isn't just a short-term spell, is it?"

"Not at all!" Suzi reassured him. "If anything, they were said to sometimes live for up to hundreds of years!"

Hundreds of years, thought Caesar, somewhat regretfully. Would he eventually outlive Joseph? And what would he do without him?

But he shook such thoughts from his head. It just meant he still had plenty of time with his beloved sculptor, and what mattered was today. Joseph was here. He was here. And that was the important thing.

"Say, it's Sunday tomorrow," Suzi told Joseph. "If you're free, maybe we should go out sometime? It's kind of been a dull week, and I'm sure we could both go somewhere," she said. "I could use a vacation since I don't really have much else to do."

"I mean, sure," Joseph said, "but what about Caesar?"

"Take me with you," Caesar begged. "I want to get out of this house at least once!"

"It's dangerous," Joseph said. "People could see you! Or steal you! And you're so realistic-looking people might think I had an actual severed head with me if you'd try freezing up." he mused.

"I'm just a head," Caesar insisted. "You could just stick me in a box or something."

Joseph hesitated. He didn't want to put Caesar in danger. He knew the outside world had its perils, and Caesar, a mere clay figure and one without limbs at that, wouldn't stand a chance.

But he saw Caesar's pleading face.

What kind of life would it be for him to spend his whole life locked in a house? He knew Caesar had to be kept a secret. The world wasn't ready for something like him.

But at the same time, since Caesar was blessed with life, Joseph believed he needed to get to enjoy it, too.

"Say, Suzi," Joseph asked. "Do you know a place without a lot of people?"

She pondered for a moment. "There's a parkway by the beach, it's not very crowded this time of year. I mean, last I checked there isn't even anyone at all. It's completely deserted."

Joseph's face lit up.

"Tomorrow afternoon's sunset it is then," he said with a grin.

"And remember to bring us a box."

----------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #battle tendency #caejose #caesar x joseph #gingerreggg #bust!caesar #sculptor!joseph #hands of life au #heads up

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lemonandhugs · 3 years ago

Text

Stars Align: Chapter 7

“Oh, I found a hot water bottle too. Uh…which room would you like?” Sam asked as he walked over to the doorway that led to the two split rooms.

Cait turned her body around in the little wooden dining chair. She had a full belly and was feeling pretty toasty, but very exhausted. She craned her neck and peered into the bedroom.

“Um…I don’t mind…maybe that one?” Cait tilted her head and looked up at him.

“Okay. I’m going to go unpack a bit,” Sam pointed towards his new room.

“Okay,” Cait nodded, “I’m horrible at unpacking. It’s so tedious. I’ll do it in the morning, time for bed.”

Cait yawned and reached both arms up, stretching. This caused her pyjama top to creep up her belly a tiny bit, but it was still enough to catch Sam’s eye. He peeked for half a second and quickly looked away, through the doorway.

“Yeah yeah, you sleep. I’ll be quiet,” Sam gave her a cheeky smile.

Cait reciprocated, then took her bowl and cups to the sink to wash them up. She brushed her teeth, then took the towel off her head. Her hair was mostly dry now, and only slightly wavy.

‘Yep…the perm is well and truly gone,’ Cait thought, moving her mouth to one side and sighing.

She grabbed her phone and charger, filled up the hot water bottle and headed to her room. She looked around the room and smiled, especially at the big bed that looked ridiculously comfortable. She pulled back the covers and slinked down, sighing happily as she did. It WAS ridiculously comfortable. She cuddled the hot water bottle to her chest and was asleep twenty seconds after her head hit the pillow.

A few hours later, after unpacking of all his bags, Sam slowly and carefully slid the sliding door across just enough for him to fit through. Luckily it hardly made a sound. He tiptoed across Cait’s room and slowed down when he came near the foot of her bed. He couldn’t help but peek over at her. She was on her belly, shiny chocolate brown hair sprawled over the pillow and half of her face, both arms bent underneath the pillow, breathing in and out peacefully. Sam smiled crookedly, until he noticed the hot water bottle on the floor. It had obviously fallen out. Sam crept to the side of her bed, bent down like a ninja, and reached across to pick up the hot water bottle, his eyes flicking up to her every few seconds. He was just able to reach it, then got back on his feet and walked carefully out to the kitchen to refill it with hot water.

Her bladder woke her up then. The broth, soup and coffee had caught up, and the more awake she became, the more busting she was.

She huffed, swung back the covers weakly, and headed for the doorway. Little did she know there was a giant Scot coming through the door with her hot water bottle. She gasped loudly and crashed straight into his chest and was knocked backwards. Sam, with his fast reflexes, caught one of her wrists in his free hand, steadying her. They both exhaled as they got over the initial scare. Cait was just grateful she didn’t piss herself.

“I’m so sorry Cait, are you alright?” Sam apologised with wide, concerned eyes, gentling his hold on her wrist.

Exhaling again and looking down, Cait huffed out a laugh, “yeah, I’m alright. I just wasn’t expecting you to come through the door.”

“Yeah, uh…” Sam began as he let go of her wrist and allowed her hand to slide through his as they parted, “I was coming through, and I saw this on the ground. I thought I’d refill it for you, it was cold,” Sam explained shyly.

Cait looked at the hot water bottle in his hand and smiled, “oh, thank you. That was kind of you,” Cait looked up into his eyes as she took the water bottle.

Sam shrugged and smirked at the ground, then he looked up and met her eyes. It was so easy for him to become hypnotised in a daze of those blue-grey eyes. Her hair was free and wavy around her shoulders, dark and shiny, making her milky skin look even lighter and more flawless still. It was like a magnetic force, his eyes couldn’t look away, even if he wanted them to.

Cait suddenly breathed in rather sharply and quickly blinked a few times. Sam’s trance was broken. Cait looked down and took half a step backwards. She nervously smiled up at him briefly and turned to slip the hot water bottle under her blankets.

“I…I just need to…” Cait stammered, pointing towards the bathroom.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” Sam let out a nervous laugh and moved out of the doorway so she could get passed.

“Sorry again for bumping into you…yet again,” Sam scratched the back of his head and bit his bottom lip.

Cait flicked her hair as she half turned back around and smirked at him, “well, when we start filming, I suppose I’ll have to get used to that,” her smirk turned into a provocative smile, and she turned back and walked into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind her.

Sam felt his cock move slightly, which made him flinch. He didn’t know whether it was the smile she just gave him, the way her arse looked in her sleep pants, the way her hips swayed when she walked, or if she was referring to the sex scenes and the “bumping” into each other they would be doing.

‘Ah fuck…if you’re getting a semi stiff one now, when she hasn’t even touched you, what are you going to do during the actual sex scenes!’ Sam flared his nostrils, then drew his eyebrows close together. He shut eyes for a few seconds, frustrated. Then stomped back to his room.

Cait caught herself in the mirror after she closed the bathroom door. She was smiling to herself, but then she froze, wide-eyed, looking at herself in the mirror. It dawned on her what she just said to him and how it sounded. How extremely SEXUAL it sounded.

‘Oh no! No, fuck! I didn’t mean it like that! What if he took it the wrong way…what will he think? Ugh! Jamie and Claire do a lot of bumping into each other BEFORE the sex scenes even happen! Oh no…’ Cait panicked, covering her face with both hands, completely mortified.

She took a deep breath in, with her eyes closed, and let it out slowly. She opened her eyes back up and looked back at herself in the mirror.

“You’re probably overthinking it. Wouldn’t be the first fucking time,” she whispered to herself.

“Just stop thinking about it…and go to the bloody toilet already!” she spat out, pointing to herself.

Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed, leant forward with his elbows resting on his legs, and slowly rubbing his hands together, thinking.

‘I’m going to make a fucking fool of myself! We’ll be doing a sex scene and I’m going to have a fucking boner! Bloody embarrassing…’ Sam struggled and got up and paced back and forth in front of his bed.

‘Maybe she’ll just…take it as a compliment. After all, there’s only so much control I can have over my body when there’s a…very beautiful…attractive woman…writhing against me…’ Sam’s cock twitched once again, ‘ffffuck!’ he clenched his fists as he paced, then rubbed the back of his neck and huffed out a sigh.

‘No, whatever happens, you will be professional about it. You’ll deal with it,’ Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he reasoned with himself, finally gaining a clear head.

Just then, his phone rang. He grabbed it and Ron’s name was on the screen.

“Hi Ron,” Sam answered, moving to the farthest side of his room, and keeping his voice down in case Cait was back in her bed, trying to go back to sleep.

“Hi Sam. Just letting you know that the boot camp starts on Saturday. So, the day after Caitriona’s perm appointment. It will be three weeks long, then we jump into filming. So, horseback riding, learning the Gaelic, training with the weapons and such. Alright?” Ron explained.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good,” Sam nodded.

“Could you let Caitriona know? I didn’t want to call her phone in case she was resting,” Ron replied.

“Sure, no problem,” Sam agreed.

“How is she doing?” Ron asked.

“Well, she ate and now she’s sleeping. She kept telling me she was okay,” Sam explained.

“Good. I’ll check in with her tomorrow evening. Bye, Sam,” Ron stated and hung up.

Sam wanted to keep his mind distracted, so he picked up his script, laid down and went through his lines.

A few hours later and it was 6pm. Sam heard laughter and talking outside. He peered out his window and saw a large bunch of people all standing together. He recognised a fair few and realised that it was the other cast of Outlander, they had arrived. He smiled, as he saw Gary Lewis, whom he’d previously met before. Sam quickly changed his clothes, put on a jacket, shoved his phone in his pocket and sneaked out from behind the dividing door. He peered over at Cait as he quietly walked past, she was still fast asleep. Sam grabbed the key, quietly closed the door behind him, and locked it. That way, Cait was safe inside, and she can unlock it without a key from the inside if need be.

Sam walked towards the crowd and caught the attention of a few of the other cast.

“Look! There’s our Jamie Fraser!” Nell Hudson pointed and squealed excitedly.

“Och Sammy! How are ye goin’?!” Gary Lewis smiled as he roughly pulled Sam into a hug and slapped him on the back a couple of times.

Sam smiled politely as he introduced himself, shaking many hands. The group conversation was then focused completely on Sam; his acting experience, his character, his Scottish background, his knowledge of the locations in which they were going to be filming. Then the conversation switched to Outlander scripts, the upcoming read-through and filming, bootcamp, and the first Outlander book.

“So, Ron informed us that our leading lady isn’t well, the poor thing. I forgot how to pronounce her name…is it Kate-ree-oo-na…? Or Kate-roh-na…?” Graham McTavish asked, genuinely trying to remember.

“It’s pronounced like Katrina. Irish-Gaelic spelling,” Sam nodded.

“Ah! Okay, I’ll remember that. Is she alright?” Graham asked.

“Yeah, she’s just recovering now. She’s asleep,” Sam explained.

“At least we’ll get to meet her at the read-through,” Lotte Verbeek smiled.

Everyone smiled and nodded. They were excited to meet her.

“Shall we all go for dinner and perhaps a drink after?” Tobias Menzies suggested.

They all went to a local restaurant and spent the night getting to know one another. The energy of the group was so positive, everyone was easy going, funny and got along well with each other.

‘Wow. What a great group of people. This is going to be a really fun journey,’ Sam thought happily.

Then he thought of Cait. He pulled out his phone and pressed her name on his text list.

- I hope you’re sleeping well Cait, and I hope this doesn’t wake you. The rest of the cast has arrived, and we’re just at dinner. I didn’t want to wake you. Just thought I’d let you know where I was :P I’ll see you soon!

Cait’s eyes fluttered open to complete darkness. She stretched, slowly sat up and looked around. She picked up her phone from the bedside table. It was 10:28pm. She then read Sam’s text and smiled. She slid over to the edge of the bed and got up. She turned on her room light and crept over to the dividing door and gently slid it across. Sam wasn’t home. The trailer was completely quiet. Then the grumbling of her belly broke the silence, so she headed to the kitchenette to put on some more soup.

She stood at the stove stirring her soup around the pot then heard a key in the door. It swung open and Sam stepped in. He immediately smiled at her.

“Hi! How did you sleep?” Sam took off his jacket and walked over to her.

Cait noticed he was looking a lot more presentable than her and she couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious, especially about her bed hair.

Cait gave him a shy smile, “hi. Pretty good, I didn’t realise it was so late. I woke up starving. Weirdly though, I’m still tired. I could easily go back to sleep after,” Cait expressed as she tried to casually run her fingers through her messy hair, then tucked one side behind her ear.

Sam clenched his jaw briefly, then nodded, “that’s good though. The more you sleep, the quicker you’ll recover.”

Cait nodded and smiled, “yeah. So how was meeting the cast? I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Oh, they’re a great bunch of people. Really easy to get along with and talk to. Yeah, they’re just really easy going. They’re excited to meet their leading lady,” Sam grinned as he leant against the countertop and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Aw. Well, that’s good to hear. It’ll be a good time working with them then,” Cait grinned up at him, in between stirring her soup.

“Yeah, definitely…Ron didn’t tell them what happened, he just told them you were unwell,” Sam reassured.

“Oh, good. Saves the embarrassment for both of us,” Cait giggled as she readied a bowl and spoon.

“True. Also, Ron rang earlier to let us know that boot camp starts the day after you come back from London. So, it’s where we have training with the weapons, horse riding, me and a few of the other guys will learn the Gaelic parts. Yeah, it goes for three weeks, then we start filming,” Sam explained.

Cait nodded with a fairly nervous look on her face, “I know I’ll have to do a lot of horse-riding…god I haven’t been on a horse literally since I was a little kid…so I’m a bit nervous for that…” Cait bit her lip, as she carried her bowl over to the dining table and sat down.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll be there too. It’s been a few years for me. We’ll be alright,” Sam gave her an encouraging smile.

Cait reciprocated with a small smile and nod, then dug into her soup.

“Alright, I’m going to have a shower,” Sam lightly brushed her shoulder then headed to his room.

Cait couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was going to be naked and wet, eight feet away from her. Then she started choking on a little bit of the liquid in her soup and had a slight coughing fit.

‘Serves you right, idiot,’ she scolded herself when the coughing ceased.

After Cait washed up her bowl, she scrolled through her phone while waiting for Sam to finish in the bathroom, so she could brush her teeth and go back to sleep.

Ten minutes later she heard the bathroom door open and saw a cloud of steam slowly fly across the kitchenette. She dropped her phone on her pillow and sat up. Sam poked his head into the doorway carefully, which made Cait laugh.

“I just wanted to make sure I didn’t barge into you again,” Sam giggled.

She saw his full form then. He was barefoot, wearing grey tracksuit pants and a loose black shirt. His hair was damp and curly around his neck. Cait tried very hard not to stare at him, so she quickly made her way to the doorway, where he was standing, avoiding eye contact.

She briefly stopped and peered up at him, “goodnight, Sam,” she smiled.

“Sleep well, Cait,” Sam grinned back.

Being in close proximity, when he said that, she could instantly smell the mint on his breath, which made her salivate. She swallowed hard and quickly walked to the bathroom, shaking her head slightly, as if it would take away what she was feeling at that moment.

4am. Cait was asleep on her back but was awoken by the loud sneezes of the man in the next room. Her eyes fluttered open slightly. The room was lit up by moonlight streaming through her window. It was a surprisingly clear night. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dividing door move slowly across. She quickly closed her eyes again. She could hear Sam’s slow and steady footsteps on the carpet. Cait opened her eyes just a tiny bit, thinking that he had reached the door, but he was just passing her bed. She was not prepared for what she saw. The moonlight only accentuated this now topless man, and every single line of his defined muscle tone. Her breath hitched in her throat; her jaw would’ve dropped had she not been frozen in that moment. A fire started between her thighs, the butterflies in her belly went mental, and the cold shivers were creeping up and down her spine, painfully slow. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as it picked up the pace, and her face was hot with blushing fire. As soon as Sam walked out and Cait heard the bathroom door close, she let out the breath she was holding. She breathed heavily for a minute and then bit her lip. She turned on to her side, so her back was facing the doorway. She smiled in a satisfied way, then pulled the blankets up higher to warm her goosebumps. It did nothing for her intense blushing, or the pounding she could feel in places beyond her heart.

‘That’s another thing you’ll have to get used to…’ she thought to herself and couldn’t help but smirk.

Cait heard the bathroom door open back up, and it wasn’t long before Cait deliberately gave herself another eyeful of his body as he walked past, the strong lines of his back, and his very firm arse.

‘Okay, that’s enough, stop now. Cold shower first thing in the morning, because all hope of sleep is lost now, definitely,’ Cait shivered once more.

To distract herself, she quietly got out of bed and went to refill her hot water bottle. She got back into bed and scrolled through her social media a bit, then watched some YouTube videos; anything to distract her from thinking about her co-star’s body.

The time she saw last on her phone was 5:42am, and she woke back up to the sound of her 6:30am alarm. She flinched and squinted at her phone. She was relieved that she was able to get a bit more sleep. As she stretched, she heard the key in the door, and in came Sam balancing two packages of hot food, and two coffees.

“Good morning,” he poked his head in and grinned.

Cait smiled back, “good morning, Sam,” and then the blush came back. She was reminded of what she saw just a few hours ago.

Cait sucked her lips into her mouth as she felt the blush wash over her entire face, hot and tingly.

‘Fuck!’ she thought, embarrassed.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Sam asked, from the dining area.

“Oh uh, yes please,” Cait stammered, half covering her face with one hand.

Cait pulled back the covers and swung her legs over the side. She had only just stood up when Sam entered her room with the food and coffee.

“No, it’s alright, you stay there,” Sam encouraged.

Cait looked back down at her bed, smiled shyly, and sat back down. She shuffled up to lean against the headboard and pulled the covers over her legs. Sam bent down and put the boxed food onto her lap, and her coffee on her bedside table.

“Breakfast in bed? Sam…” Cait’s expression, although happy, was clear that she thought it was too much.

“You’re having to stay in bed because of me, remember. I just want to try and make it up to you a bit. I insist, Cait,” Sam looked at her over his coffee cup.

With a little breath of air out of her nose, Cait laughed, “if you insist. You do know I forgive you, right?”

“Yes, and I’m grateful for it. But I still want to make this situation as good as I can,” Sam gave her a small, coy smile.

Cait smiled down at her scrambled eggs and toast and nodded, “well thank you, I really appreciate it. Everything,” she looked up at him and wouldn’t let go of his eyes.

After a few seconds too long, Sam cleared his throat, picked up her coffee and held it out to her, “here.”

Cait put her plastic fork down and took the coffee, feeling his cold fingers, from being out in the frosty morning, caress her warm, slender fingers. They glided apart slowly. Sam rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous giggle. Then he turned and walked out of the doorway. What Cait wasn’t expecting was for him to come back in her room carrying one of the dining chairs. He put it down at the foot of her bed, then went back out to get his food and coffee. He carefully placed his coffee on the floor by his chair and balanced his food in his lap.

Cait smiled wide at this very sweet gesture, “you can eat at the table you know, it’s alright.”

Sam shrugged, “would be a bit awkward, wouldn’t it? Unless…you want to eat in peace? Which is fine, I –,” Sam began.

“No no. It just looks a bit difficult eating from your lap, that’s all. But if you’re happy,” Cait tilted her head.

“It’s fine, Cait,” Sam gave her a reassuring smile as he chewed.

They made comfortable small talk for the next hour, laughing, joking, getting used to each other.

The next morning, Sam and Cait were getting ready for the table read.

“So, are you feeling back to your normal self?” Sam asked from the dining table, where he was looking through his script.

Cait was in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror applying some mascara and cursing her hair for being a little frizzy this morning. She was actually excited to get it permed again.

“Yeah, I feel fine now. That much needed time in bed did the trick,” Cait answered, running her fingers through her hair, trying to dull the frizz.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t get sick…Sassenach,” Sam cheekily smiled.

Cait poked her head out of the bathroom door inquisitively, “what was that?”

“Sassenach. I’m going to have to get used to calling you that when we start filming,” Sam shrugged, smirking.

Cait tilted her head then nodded, “true. And I’m going to have to get used to being called that.”

“At least it’s a term of endearment and not an insult,” Sam laughed.

Cait giggled, then sighed, “Alright well…I suppose I’m ready. My hair is…well it leaves a lot to be desired. I actually prefer the perm over…this,” Cait stood in the doorway of the bathroom, holding some of her hair up in one hand, looking self-conscious.

“No, you look nice, and your hair looks fine to me,” Sam stood up from his chair, quickly looking her up and down.

Cait shyly tucked some of her hair behind her ear, looked down for a moment, then made eye contact with a smile, “thank you. You do too, I like the leather jacket.”

Sam shoved his hands in said leather jacket and let out a nervous laugh as he looked at his shoes.

Cait was wearing a blue camouflage jumper, black skinny jeans, and boots. She put on a long black coat and a blue and white scarf. Sam was wearing a grey fitted shirt that showed off his biceps nicely, dark blue Levi’s, black joggers, and his brown, hooded leather jacket.

“Oh god, can’t forget my reading glasses,” Cait rolled her eyes and smirked, then ran to get them out of one of her bags.

“You wear reading glasses? That’s something new I’ve learnt about you, Caitriona Balfe,” Sam smirked at her from across the room.

“Yes, unfortunately. They’re a bit of a pain…but what do you do,” Cait shrugged, putting them in her handbag and walking to the door, where Sam was.

Sam and Cait were among the last few to arrive at the table read. Cait looked around at the sea of people eyeing her curiously. Lotte was the first to come over and say hello to her. The next was Tobias, and then more and more of the cast followed. Meanwhile, Sam was just about crash tackled by Gary. Then Gary spotted Cait.

“Caitriona! Hello, how are you, princess?” Gary shook her hand gently, “Gary Lewis. I’m playing Colum MacKenzie.”

“Nice to meet you, Gary,” Cait smiled politely, “I’ve seen you in so many things, you’re so great.”

“Och, thank you, thank you. It’s nice to finally meet our leading lady. Are you feeling better?” Gary inquired.

“Yes, yes I am, thank you,” Cait grinned and nodded.

“Ron’s here now, better sit,” Gary smiled and cocked his head to the side.

Cait walked over to Sam, who was already sitting, and he pulled the chair out a bit for her. Cait pulled it out the rest of the way and slipped on her glasses as she sat down.

“You suit reading glasses. They make you look very professional,” Sam smiled at her.

Cait was filling up their cups with water, starting with his. She gave him a cheesy smile as she poured.

The table read began with different scenes from episode three.

During the scene where Cait had to pretend to faint, as best she could while sitting in a chair, she made quite a few of the cast laugh, including Sam, which made her laugh. Once she starts to giggle, she’s not able to just cease straight away, it takes her a bit to get over it. Cait had her face close to the script as her shoulders bounced up and down as she laughed silently.

Sam, laughing at Cait’s shaky shoulders, leant in, and giggled, “what are you going to do during the actual scene?”

Cait flicked her hair to look at him, still laughing and shook her head. Sam giggled and quickly looked back at his script, so he didn’t lose track.

The next few days were a blur. Everything was happening so fast. Before Sam and Cait knew it, bootcamp had begun and it was Day One of horse riding. Sam was excited and was determined to not let any of his stuntmen do any of his riding scenes. Cait on the other hand was a nervous wreck.

‘What if I fall? What if I have trouble getting on the horse and make a complete idiot of myself?’ Cait chewed her bottom lip, pacing back and forth in her room, waiting for Sam to finish getting dressed.

Sam pushed the door across and could see the fear sprawled across Cait’s face.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked, concerned.

“Um…just a little scared,” Cait played with her fingers and looked at her feet.

Sam walked over and held one of her shoulders, slightly rubbing it up and down.

“It will be okay. You’re a beginner, they’ll take it slow,” Sam tried to reassure her.

Cait nodded, still looking down. Sam gently squeezed her shoulder before letting go.

“All ready to go?” Sam asked, tilting his head down to try and catch her eye.

Cait finally looked up at him, “yes,” she forced a smile.

When Sam and Cait arrived at the stables, Tobias was also there. His practise was up first, then Sam’s, and Cait was last. Tobias was already in on the horse, cantering around the ring. Tobias had lots of experience with riding. Sam and Cait stood at the gate watching Tobias. A few minutes later, Tobias had finished, and was due for weapons training. He said a brief hello and goodbye to Sam and Cait, then rushed off. Sam spoke to the riding instructor, and it wasn’t long before he was on the horse.

“Oh god he’s high, isn’t he?” Sam commented to the instructor, as he adjusted himself in the saddle.

Sam started out walking, then trotting, then cantering, until he was used to it and confident with controlling the horse, stopping, starting, etc. Training with weapons and riding was on another day, Sam was most excited for that. In preparation for this, Sam was instructed to only hold the reigns in one hand, as much as he could.

While Sam had his lesson, Cait watched for a bit, then looked behind her to see a few more stables with horses in them. She slowly wandered over to a brown horse with a black mane. “Travis” was on the front of his stable. She slowly and carefully raised her hand up to his nose and stroked gently. A smile spread across her face, and she continued to stroke and pat the horse from his mane, down his neck. The horse was very calm and seemed to enjoy her attention.

“You’re a beautiful boy, Travis,” she whispered soothingly, gently putting her forehead on the side of his face.

Travis softly whinnied in response and Cait giggled, scratching him behind an ear.

An hour later, Sam shook hands with the instructor and thanked him. Then he saw Cait. She was so happy that she was positively glowing, as she stroked Travis and leant against his stable door.

‘That sweet smile, she’s so happy. She obviously likes horses, just not being on top of one. She’s so adorable…and beautiful…and smart…and talented…stop staring at her, idiot,’ Sam snapped himself out of his thoughts.

“You’ve made a friend, Cait?” Sam smiled as he walked over and stroked Travis on the other side of his neck.

Cait grinned at Sam, “yes! Travis is such a sweetheart. He’s so calm.”

“Yeah, he’s a beauty,” Sam agreed.

Cait managed to pull herself away from Travis and stood next to Sam, nervously eyeing the riding ring. Sam followed her eyes.

“The taller one’s mine,” Sam said pointing to the magnificent, black stallion, “you’ve got Alfie.”

Alfie resembled Travis a lot but was a darker brown.

“Alfie…should we go, and see?” Cait suggested.

“Yeah, we’ll go and have a look,” Sam replied encouragingly.

Cait greeted the riding instructor, who pointed out Alfie. Sam walked inside the ring and leant against the wall to watch.

The instructor lowered the stirrup for Cait to put her foot in. She held onto the horn, and with a few bounces on the leg she was still standing on, she successfully and gracefully pulled herself up and over, placing her other foot in the stirrup.

“Nice!” Sam clapped once, smiling.

Cait let out a nervous giggle and gripped tightly to the reigns. The instructor asked her to squeeze her calves into the horse to make him move forward. Cait did just so, and Alfie slowly walked forward. The instructor walked alongside, and Cait was almost to the other side of the ring. The instructor then showed Cait how to use the reigns to turn Alfie. Cait, being a fast learner, mirrored the action perfectly and Alfie turned around smoothly and continued to walk.

Then, out of nowhere, Alfie made a loud noise and darted forward at a fast rate. Cait jolted backwards and gripped the reigns tighter, grabbing the horn.

“Woah woah woah!” Cait panicked.

“Pull back, Cait!” Sam yelled.

The instructor shouted the same thing and Cait pulled back on the reigns. Alfie came to a holt and sharply moved his head up and down. Cait was breathing heavily, in a panic.

“Alfie! Ye daft bugger, what were ye thinkin’?!” the instructor bellowed as he caught up and held on to Alfie’s throat latch.

Sam quickly walked over and put his hand on Cait’s leg, “are you alright?” he asked, looking up at her.

Cait exhaled deeply, “yeah, I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Caitriona. I dinna ken what startled him…he was a wee bit unsettled earlier, but he’d calmed down since…best have a wee break, aye? Catch your breath,” the instructor suggested.

Cait nodded. Noticing Alfie had his head down, sniffing at the instructor’s shoes, Cait swung her leg over Alfie’s neck, so that she was side-saddle, facing Sam. He instinctively held his arms out to catch her. She had only just slid off Alfie’s saddle when Sam had already caught her, both hands just below her armpits. As she fell more, her body gently crashed into his and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her back to make sure he had a proper hold on her. Their noses brushed together, they breathed each other’s breaths, their bodies were so tightly bound together that they shared a racing heartbeat. Their chests heaved against each other’s. Sam knew he needed to lower Cait onto the ground and take his hands off her, but he was stuck, frozen, in a hypnotic trance, once again. She was making no move to loosen her hold around his neck. The only movement she was making was the intermittent flicker of her eyes between both of his.

‘Oh god, I can’t move. I don’t want to move. She smells so good…she feels so good, her body against mine. Her eyes…her mouth. I…I really want to…fuck no, that could end very badly! Does she want to? Does she want me to? She’s not moving either…maybe she does…what if I…’ Sam’s thoughts frantically swept through his mind.

Ever so slightly, testing the waters, Sam tilted his head, never breaking that powerful, unbreakable connection of their eyes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33179176/chapters/82373908#workskin

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jackies-wearing-khakis · 5 years ago

Text

The Duel (shelby!reader)

𝗮/𝗻: 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗜 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹!

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗱𝘂𝗲𝗹.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟭,𝟲𝟯𝟲

"Where are the boys going with the guns?" you asked your Aunt Polly. You sat at the kitchen table, dangling your legs off your chair. Polly sat opposite you, drinking some tea quietly. Your eyes were fixed on Arthur, Tommy, and John as they left the house quickly with rifles hanging on their shoulders. You were only eleven, and couldn't possibly understand what they were going to do.

"Don't look at them." Polly warned. The curtness in her voice was familiar, but there was a nervous undertone you weren't used to hearing.

Your brothers left quietly. You watched them through the window in silence as they got in Tommy's car and drove off.

"Will they be back soon?" you questioned. "Arthur's promised to take me and Finn to a film later." Your aunt took a long sip and put her cup down.

"I don't think that's going to happen, (y/n)." Polly breathed. She stared blankly at the wall, anxiously tapping her nails onto the table. The house was uncomfortably silent.

Upstairs, you could hear Karl crying. "Pol, I need help with the baby!" Ada called down. Polly sprung to her feet and drank the last of her tea.

"Hold on, I'm coming!" she shouted, and rushed upstairs. You were left alone in the kitchen, feeling uneasy.

It wasn't difficult to tell something was wrong. You'd rarely ever seen Polly so nervous, and it was starting to scare you. You bit your lip, looking around the room for some kind of distraction.

You noticed a revolver lying on the floor next to the sofa. 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘵'𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘴, you thought. You hopped off your chair to take a closer look at the gun.

It was surprisingly heavy, and you felt bizarre holding it in your hands. Finn had taught you how to cock a gun a few months back, having learned it from John. He had always been eager to show off new skills with you.

In that moment, you felt a longing for your brothers. You didn't understand why they had to leave so suddenly; all you knew was that you wanted to see them. So, in that moment, you decided to follow them. You quickly put on a scarf and a coat, slipping the gun into your pocket. Quietly, you snuck out the front door.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Kimber." Tommy spoke rationally. John, Arthur, and the whole of the Peaky Blinders stood behind him, all with large guns in their hands. Billy Kimber and his men, who were equally armed, stood opposite them.

"Too late for all that," Kimber scoffed. "You've bitten off more than you can chew, Thomas. And now I'm going to take over this shithole."

"So be it," Thomas breathed. He began to load his gun.

The brief silence was broken as you ran out from an alley and into the open street with the gun in your hand.

"Tommy!" you shouted, running towards your brother. "You forgot this!"

Your pace slowed to a halt as you noticed the looks on your brothers faces. They were stunned to see you, an eleven year-old girl, standing in between two rival gangs on the brink of battle. You suddenly felt overwhelmed by the countless faces staring at you.

You walked over to Tommy slowly, holding the gun in front of you. The street was unsettlingly quiet. You found yourself wanting nothing more than to go home.

Tommy took the gun carefully and looked down at you. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, which only made you feel worse.

"I.. I'm sorry Tom.. I just.. I thought you might be needing it." you stammered.

Tommy didn't respond, but crouched down to make eye contact with you. He put his hand on your shoulder and looked you in the eye.

"Listen to me very carefully (y/n).." he spoke. His tone was smooth, but you could tell by the grip of his hand that he was anything but. "You need to leave 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸. Go home."

You looked up at Arthur and John, who avoided your gaze.

"What's going on here?" you asked, feeling uneasy. "What are you going to do?"

"Do what Tommy says, (y/n)," John spoke stiffly. "We'll be home soon enough."

You took a step away from your brothers, detaching yourself from Tommy. You turned around slowly to face Kimber and his men, who stared at you in silence.

"For fucks sake, Tommy. Get the girl out of here already." the gangster spat, cocking his gun.

"(y/n), I'm not joking. 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦." Tommy warned, keeping his eyes on you and Kimber at the same time.

"𝘕𝘰." you spoke; the embarrassment you had felt before was suddenly fading. In it's place, you felt a growing sense of anger.

"You're going to hurt eachother, I can tell." you said, raising your voice. Your eyes scanned the crowd around you.

"(y/n), 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨?" Tommy questioned. He'd given up trying to act calm, and he wore a panicked expression.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked, ignoring Tommy's question. "I don't get it, what's the point? Why do you have to fight?"

You made eye contact with Kimber, and you immediately recognized him.

"I know you." you spoke gently. "You're Kimber, you're Tommy's 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥."

"(y/n), this doesn't have anything to do with you. Just go home, okay?" Tommy said for the last time. You whipped your head around aggressively.

"Stop telling me what to do!" you snapped. You stared at your brother in spite.

Your face felt hot, and you wanted to throw something. You weren't used to feeling this way, but you embraced it.

"You can't just solve things by 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 people! That won't change anything!" you shouted, letting your emotions overcome you. "Why do people have to die before you can agree on anything?!"

The street fell silent. You looked around one final time, hoping to God that your words meant something.

"She's right, you know." Kimber finally spoke. "Why should all you men die? It should just be them who's caused it."

Without warning, Kimber fired his gun at Tommy, barely grazing his arm.

Unable to process the situation in time, you fell on your stomach like Polly had taught you to do when you were just a toddler. You could see Tommy stumble backwards as one of his friends, Danny, ran in front of him and took a bullet in the heart.

You covered your ears as stray bullets were shot blindly from either side, none of them hitting a target. Finally, Tommy got on his feet and shot Kimber in the head. You turned away before you could see him die.

As soon as the gunfire ended, you felt Arthur scoop you up and drag you away. He quickly set you down on some crates that lined one of the surrounding buildings.

"Are you hurt?" he asked firmly, checking you for any wounds. You stared in horror as some of the Peaky Blinders men carried Danny away.

"No, no I'm okay." you said. Your voice was trembling.

You watched as Tommy stood in the middle of the street. He pressed his hand against his wound.

"Kimber and me fought this battle one on one. It's over."

Tommy turned to you, and your eyes met his.

"Go home to your families." he finished. Slowly, the men scattered.

Tommy wasted no time making his way to you. You breathed heavily in anticipation.

"What the 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 was that, (y/n)?!" he spat.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I-"

"Don't 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 do something that fucking stupid again. You could've gotten yourself fucking 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥."

Tears were streaming down your flushed cheeks. You were overwhelmed with emotions. Fear, anger, and sadness rushed through your mind.

"I'm sorry, Tommy, I really am," you cried. "I just wanted to help you."

"Give her some credit, Tom." John said, walking over. "She's saved more than a few lives."

"𝘈𝘯𝘺 one of those bullets could have gone astray and hit her." Tommy spoke, and your brothers went silent. There was no denying it, your actions were reckless.

"They didn't though, did they?" John said, breaking the silence. He ruffled your hair, in an attempt to comfort you.

"Tommy's right, (y/n).." Arthur spoke frankly. "What you did was stupid, but it was brave."

Your face lit up as your eldest brother complimented you. It wasn't often you got this type of recognition.

Your eyes met Tommy's. He was still tense, but his expression wasn't as angry as it had been.

"Tom," you spoke. "I'm really sorry, okay? I didn't mean to scare you."

Tommy pulled you into a tight hug. You could feel his body shaking as he sighed deeply.

"Just.. don't do it again. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, (𝘺/𝘯)." was all he said.

"𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦." you whispered back, and that was enough to make your brother relax.

You drove back to Watery Lane with your brothers, sitting in silence. John and Arthur let you sit in the front of the car next to Tommy, saying that you'd earned that honor. It was a rare oppurtunity, but you weren't able to enjoy it. You'd been exposed to a violent side of your brother's lives that you were still too young to process. You didn't know how to feel.

There was one thing you were sure of, though. You did the right thing today. You didn't care how angry Polly would be with you, or how reckless Tommy thought you were. You refused to be sorry for trying to keep your brothers safe.

So, as you began to doze off, you made a promise to yourself. You were never, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, going to let your family get hurt, no matter how much danger you had to put yourself through.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #shelby!reader #shelby!sister #shelbysister!reader #tommy x sister!reader #tommy shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby

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madllamamomma · 4 years ago

Text

Journey Back to the South Part 9~

[Kinda SWF, no real smut. Sorry guys. But it’s coming!]

The Illuminator~

With your feet dangling off the ground, Muriel’s lips are pressed against yours in front of the entire tribe to see.

He never. Ever. Kisses you in front of people. He may have done it once or twice, a little quick shy peck on the cheek or forehead—But nothing like this. This is an intense loving kiss that leaves you breathless and can’t resist kissing him back. It takes you completely off guard. The crowd around you both is going completely wild with cheers, wild trills, and vocables. Yet, he doesn’t seem to even be fazed by it. What the fuck is going on?! As soon as you both part for air, your faces are completely red and hot.

The corners of your mouth twitch up onto a startled smile. “Wh…. what was that for—”

Muriel for some reason looks so strangely happy, not seeming to realize what he had done. “I… Don’t….. You’re just…. You—Y— You’re a phoenix.”

You flutter your eyes unsure what to do or say. “Yeah… a-apparently so. What does that have to do with anything?”

His eyes are sparkling and he shakes his head disbelief. “You’re…. a phoenix!!”

“...I’m a phoenix!” You repeat completely confused of what is going on at the moment. Why is this such a big deal to him? Is there something I’m missing here??

“You…I- we—……The meadow…. and… the phoenix—” As poor Muriel flounders for words, it dawns on him what he had just done in front of all the Kokhuri to see, but still holds you in his arms and his body heats up even more. “—Shit—Sorry— I shouldn’t have!!”

“W—wha-...What?! Why are you sorry?!”

“I-I don’t know!!.... I just—For some reason I couldn’t stop myself…. I… moved before I could think…” He says sounding nearly panicked as he sets you back down to your feet. But still there is a new gleam in his eyes. Like he realized something amazing that he hadn’t before. You both jump a little as Una places her hands on the both of you, tears streaming down, and Muriel starts to look very concerned. “Una?.... What’s wrong? Why are you upset?” Muriel peers all around, then notices the other elders are tearing up too, even Ronin and Tad. “W-why is everyone upset?? Did I do something wrong?!”

She sniffles a little and pats his arm comfortingly. “No, no! Don’t worry. These are good tears, my boy!” She tries to blot the tears away with her sleeve, but they just keep streaming down making lines in the bright paint. Yet, she continues to smile from ear to ear. “Oh, little cub…. Your mother, Glenna… Her cast did the same thing all those years ago when we were young… Remember the first day you came here?? Berty and I told you the story of how your parents met?” She turns around pointing to the now very vibrant night sky, then glances back up at him. “... Glenna’s cast waited for Artturi, just like your cast waited for Rhemi’s!!” Una tries to stifle a sniffle as much as she can and the paint on her face starts to slightly run more. “... She wouldn’t go up without him! The great lights haven’t lit up like this since they—” Una cut herself off, and shakes her head, but still smiles. Muriel still looks very wary as she continues to sob happily and she tries to reassure him. “—Ahh!! Don’t mind this blubbering old woman, little cub! I’m sorry… I… I just never thought I’d see that sight again. None of us did!”

Muriel‘s eyes glance back up to the Aurora as it dances across the night sky, shaking his head, still very lost in all of this. “What does…. this... all mean?”

Una chuckles a bit and turns her attention toward you, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. “I’m not really sure!” Gently, she holds your now, cool face in her warm hands and squishes it a little. “...But, the two of you no doubt have a special bond. A very strong bond!! It took years for mine and Berty’s cast to know one another!!”

“... How come… ours do know each other??” You ask, voice muffled by her hands as she continues to squish your face.

“... Maybe it’s because you see each other in your dreams, like how Artturi visited Glenna in her’s…. Perhaps that’s why you both know one another in your truest form—Casts can’t lie about who they truly are.” Your face is then buried in thick fur as she embraces you tightly in her arms and starts to lightly pet your hair. You can feel her heart beating rather rapidly in her chest.

Gilbert lets out a loud hearty laugh that rattles the hillside. “Whatever it is, you both have something special!” Suddenly he wraps his arms around Muriel, squeezing him in a tight bear hug, even slightly lifting him off his feet. The sudden embrace startles him for a moment, but then he somewhat relaxes. Perhaps getting used to all this affection, but his face beaming red, and still looks uncomfortable. As Gilbert lets go of Muriel, he braces his shoulders with both hands, his eyes welling with tears. “You have no idea how proud your parents would be, little cub. You are made up of the best parts of them.” He mutters to him with such bittersweet pride in his voice. “... They would have loved to have seen this. See you grow up to be such a great son.” Muriel's face looks so confused and unsure how to react to all of this, but looks a bit emotional as Gilbert says that.

Gilbert then let’s go of Muriel and immediately starts to slam his hands on his chest, sharply breathing in his mouth. He soon starts a beat and everyone quickly falls into Amrán De Mo Chroí, ‘The song of our hearts’ chant like the first day of the gathering. But this time it is not as melancholic like it was the first day. Rather the cadence is faster, and everyone's tone sounds more happy, but still very driving, energetic, and full of emotion as they chant it.

Still unsure what to do you wrap your arms around Muriel’s and he tries to hide a tear from falling. Everyone seems to be so lost in the chant, but you soon realize, not everyone is chanting. Shona’s eyes are red, watery, and filled with anger and she shooting you a sharp hateful glare. With her lips tightly pressed together, she backs away from the crowd before vanishing from your sight.

Before you know it a few people grab you by the arms and tug you toward the camp and get separated from Muriel. They are all singing a very merry tune. Somehow you find yourself by the fire, and getting roped into dance around it. Ava and Keavy are close by, but not Muriel. Keavy is quick to tug you close to dance with you, but you stop, trying to yell over the crowd, “Wait!!! I don’t know this dance!”

Keavy laughs and pulls you close by her left side so you can hear her without screaming. “Don’t worry! It’s easy! Here, watch me!” She slowly demonstrates first with her hands, then with her feet. The dance seemed a lot more complicated at first, but it actually isn’t all that bad and you find your rhythm with the beat of the music. “See!! You're a natural, Rhemi!” You feel your arm get tugged in the opposite direction and Keavy wiggles her fingers—“JUST HAVE FUN~!!!”

Twirling around, you end up with a skinnier Kokhurian arms—it’s Tad, and he has a huge toothy smile on his face. “Oi! Where is your betrothed, Rhemi?” He asks loudly as he spins you around and suddenly Ronin grabs your wrist and starts to dance with you too.

“I don't know!!! I lost him after the hillside—!” Ronin and Tad both exchange smiles, both apparently having the same idea. Ronin then lifts you up for a brief moment in a smooth dancing move giving you the perfect opportunity to find him. And there he is, on the side lines appearing to be looking for you as well. “Ooo! OOO!!! There he is!!” You wave at him giddily and he finally catches your eyes and grins looking a bit relieved.

As you return to your feet pat Ronin on the arm. “Thanks guys!!!” The couple wave you off and start to dance with one another and you work your way through the energetic crowd towards your shy hermit. You see that Shawn tries to get Muriel to join the dancing, but it's no use. He’s not budging. Soon, Shawn’s arm is linked with a pretty, young girl around his age, inviting him to dance with her. He blushed from chest to ears and he has an adorable large silly smile, unable to resist her.

Ava jumps out of the crowd to the side where Muriel is standing and shakes their head. Disappointedly watching as their brother gives up so quickly on their cousin because of a girl. Ava then waves Muriel in, with both hands. But he just shakes his head with a small sneer. They however are not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Looking rather determined, they tilt their head side-to-side seeming to be squaring up as they roll up their sleeves. Before Muriel realizes what is happen Ava dashes forwards, wrapping their arms around his waist, taking him completely by surprise. Using the same moves they used during the games, Ava somehow wrangles him into the dancing crowd around the large fire. He stumbles backwards and is caught quickly by Una and he recovers himself. He then attempts to pull himself out, but is unsuccessful as Gilbert and Ronin throw him back in. “O chan eil, Muriel! Get back in ‘ere!!!!”

Before he tries to escape once again, you take his wrist and inlace your fingers with his. He relaxes once he feels your familiar small hand in his and glances down to you, a deep blush taking over his cheeks and ears. “You know I don’t know how to dance!” He grumbles, but it’s loud enough for you to hear and you smile wide to reassure him.

A giggle emanates from your lungs and you shout over the loud sounds. “This isn’t the same though! Look around you, no one cares!!” Quickly, he scans the scene all around; Eventually he realizes that this isn’t dancing like back at home. This isn’t ballroom dancing at the palace, or waltzing at the Rowdy Raven. This is wild and almost primitive dancing, trilling, making various vocables and singing—just pure joyous celebration. Some are just jumping or running in circles around the fire while others are actually dancing—Some are even dancing it badly themselves, but are unperturbed. “See? No one is paying attention at all! Here, watch me!” You pull him towards you and he offers you no resistance as you show him the easy steps by his side just like Keavy did for you. He’s stiff, but he seems to pick up the steps easily enough and you both start to dance together. He gradually gets more relaxed and even seems to (almost) enjoy himself, even though he is trying to hide it. The music continues and it drives everyone into keep going, the high energy is very infectious.

After about twenty minutes or so, Muriel and you are able to pull yourselves out of the dancing during the transition of another song starts to play. Your hand tightly held with his as you both take a seat down on the sideline nearly breathless. Amazed that the rest of the crowd is still going. But you do notice that you can’t find Shona anywhere. Last time you saw her, she looked really upset at you, then she just…. vanished. And it makes you wonder where she went. You feel your heart drop a little. Jeez. I hope I didn’t ruin the celebration for them…

You look over to your right and notice Ida and Inanna curled up together fast asleep, the two have no right to look that completely and utterly adorable snuggled up like that. It’s probably around three or four o’clock in the morning, the poor thing is way past her bedtime. As you continue to look at cozy the two of them look, you honestly wouldn’t mind curling up and sleeping right now either, and by the look of Muriel’s eyes he wouldn’t either. Casting your aura was really surprisingly difficult and exhausting. Perhaps not or Muriel, but most definitely for you. Una mentioned that you might have given up too much. Drained magic always gets you sleepy. Then you got roped into dancing for however long, plus the time you had to find Muriel, then you both danced for awhile. Now you already tired limbs feel like limp noodles. But the other Kokhurians have no signs of stopping. Muriel looks like he could keep going if he really wanted to, but there is no way he is going to go back in there without you. You lean over and take advantage of Muriel’s presence and rest your head on his arm, and instantly feel more comfortable and warm. “Is this all that you expected when you got invited to stay almost two weeks ago?” You utter to him, feeling your vocal cords scratch in your throat from all the yelling.

He snorts and leans into you as well. “No. Not at all. It was… it was…” He pauses, thinking hard on what he is trying to say but shakes his head and gives up. “...It was different than I thought.”

“... Are you happy we came?” You ask stifling a yawn, your eyelids feeling heavy.

“... Yes. I am… Thanks, Rem.”

You can’t help but sputter a little. “For what?”

“.... I… I’m glad…. that you convinced us to come down here. This-... This is honestly one of the best times I’ve had in a long—” You feel his head turn and look towards your face, you try your hardest to keep your eyes open, but they are starting to fall. You’re still listening though.

He drapes his hand tenderly over your shoulder and very gently shakes you until you open your eyes. “Hmmmm?…. Sorry! I-I’m—I’m awake! Just resting my eyes.”

Muriel barks a short laugh and stands to his feet, then offers his hand to help you up. “Com’on.... You’re tried. And I am too.” You want to argue with him, tell him that you can stay up. But you can’t deny how exhausted you are. Even though you both rested this afternoon, you're tempted to join Ida and curl up to Inanna’s soft fur and go to sleep. Reluctantly you take his hand and let him help you to your feet. “Lets get some sleep.” Muriel glance over to Inanna, but she doesn’t budge from her spot, and stays curled around Ida, keeping her warm and comfortable as if she was her own pup. He shrugs, she can take care of herself.

As soon as you get to the tent, you tear off your cloak and corset belt, plop your ass down on the bedding, kick off your shoes, grab the blankets, and furs and lazily wrap yourself in them like a cocoon. All the while, Muriel stokes the fire to keep the tent warm. Once he finally gets to the bedding and after he takes off his belts, cloak, and shoes, you wrap your arms around him and pull him down and cuddle him tight before he can take off his shirt startling him a little. “-Rem, you didn’t even take off your skirt.” He mumbles, slight amusement in his voice. You silently shrug, too tired to speak any words other than just grumbles and groans. Then you become very quiet and still. “... You already asleep?” He whispers. You hear him, but you can’t seem to answer him; you’re just too tired. As you nearly drift off, you can feel him give you a feather light kiss on your forehead, then he presses his cheek gently to your temple. He very quietly whispers. “.... I can’t wait to be your husband.”

“Wh—? Huh?!” Your eyes fly open, not believing your ears, and you pull yourself out of his embrace to groggily look at his face. “... Did…. did you just say the ‘H’ word, Mur?!”

A large shiver runs down his spine and he tucks you closer to his chest attempting to hide his embarrassed expression and his crimson red face and chest, you can even hear his heart beat thud faster in his chest. “... N-NO!... I… I didn’t say anything… must have been dreaming.” He lies.

“Pfft!! You big adorable fibber!” You rub your left eye, then run your fingers through his hair making him melt into the bedding. A soft giggle escapes behind your teeth and you pepper his neck with sloppy kisses. “Say it again…. I wanna hear it….” You mutter, half asleep, mumbling in his neck.

Heat immediately radiates off of his chest at that request. “W-what-?... A-Aren’t you supposed to be exhausted??” He is right, you are very tired… You decide to cuddle up and drop it… for now. But your heart is leaping inside your chest—He finally said it, there is no taking it back. It makes being engaged feel that more real. You’re going to be with him for the rest of your life. It feels wonderful to know that. Even if you two didn’t get married, just being with him the rest of your life is all you really wanted.

A large yawn fills your lungs and you try to fight the urge to drift off. “Fine…. but… you better get…. used to…. to those…. *yawn*... words…” Nuzzling your face into his warm chest you start to feel sleep taking over once again, and there isn’t overcoming it this time. “.... Love you, Mur. I… I can’t w-wait to… to be you—…. your…… wi.....fe….”

Finally sleep incapacitates you and you drift into the realm of dreams. Fiery wings and all, feeling free and happy. Soon Mister Bear is there to join you once again and you both run around the large empty tundra.

This is my favorite dream….

—-—-—-

The morning call of the rouge rooster wakes you from your happy dream and you find yourself laying on your back and Muriel’s face is buried in your chest, slightly snoring. You don’t mind him there, finding him in this position is actually quite cute. But as soon as you fidget just the slightest, he wakes up, shuddering when he realizes his position and rolls over onto his side looking apologetic. “.... S-Sorry, was I heavy?” He mumbles groggily.

You smile at him almost longingly, fingers lightly brushing up against the grain of his stubble on his cheek, strangely enjoying that sandpaper feeling. “No, you were fine…” You fiddle with a small lock of his now messy hair, loving the feeling of it and studying the dark color. You love his hair. “I love you Muri.”

“I love you too.” He whispers back very sincerely and he leans into your touch.

He holds the small of your back as he moves to his spine and you lay on his chest. “So….. What… ah…. What happened last night?” You finally ask.

He slightly stretches out his toes and rubs his tired face with is free hand. “What do you mean? What part?”

“Well…. For starters… You kissed me in front of everyone” Muriel suddenly becomes very flushed, he seemed to have all but forgot that. “—N-not that I mind that! I actually really enjoyed it. It was just a shock. A good shock!... But I know you were about ten different shades of red after it. Like you didn’t mean to.”

He averts his eyes and turns his head away from you looking at the opposite side of the tent and flounders for words. “.... I… I don’t know… I just… you—the….the casts and the lights…. it was just…” he sighs very heavily, frustration thick in his tone.

“I didn’t say it was bad!!! The others didn’t mind at all! They even cheered for you!.... All I am trying to say was that… It’s just not like you. Do you not know why you did either?” He shrugs and stays quiet, seeming to not know what to say. You haven't seen him this uncomfortable alone with you in such a long time now, it’s almost alarming. You decide to take pity on him and you hold his hand. “You don’t have to answer, Mur.”

Muriel taps the top of your hand. You move off of his chest and Muriel sits himself up, peering over to the dying fire. Finally by the time you think he’s going to ignore the question, he breaks the silence. “I… just remembered my nightmare before we came down here…. That’s the first time I thought I remembered seeing the phoenix… She-… well.. you helped me… It made all the bad things so away.....” You heart leap inside your chest a bit. You always wondered what he meant that you were in his dream. Still its is confusing how you even got there. “.... But then you mentioned the meadow and then I remembered that too…” He pauses, pondering a bit more, pushing back his messy hair out his face. “... guess I’ve been leaping longer than I thought.” Letting his hair down the rest of the way, he shakes it out a little so he can fix it later before he continues. “—Anyways— I just should have known it was you…. I mean… I had suspensions… But I wasn’t sure….. I guess in the back of my mind I always knew, but… once I saw you burst into flames last night—”

Burst into… Flames?! What the hell?! Shooting your upper body up from the bedding, you make him jump from your sudden movement. “Wait—I did what now?!”

“....Y- Your magic—when you were summoning your aura last night, it looked like fire. It even had heat to it—You lit up most of the hillside!” In complete disbelief, you flutter your eyes, not sure what to think of all this as you continue to listen to him. “...That’s why we all were so shocked…. I.. I kinda got worried at first—afraid of you being in pain. But Una stopped me... made me realize that you were fine….. I… I even saw you do that in your dream once.... You know.... the one with Ezavior.”

You stare at him, mouth opened, completely lost for words. You had no idea that had happened. You did feel the warmth, but you didn’t think your magic would manifest physically like it did. “That’s….ah…. that is… A little… umm…. strange.” You mutter scratching the back of your head, trying to envision the sight. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

He gives you a small smile. “It’s fine. You weren’t in pain, that's all I cared about.”

“It’s kinda weird… but it's also... kinda…. Awesome!!” Randomly you start to rant, and Muriel just listens to your silliness. “— I can burst into freakin’ flames?! FIRE?! How awesome is that?! I didn’t know I could do that!!! I had never even seen a phoenix before last night! I guess I still haven't seen a real one technically.... But it was really cool to see!!” You finally stop you rants and your eyes light up and mischievously glance over to Muriel and his nostrils flare, getting prepared. He knows…

“...Don’t… you…dare...” He grumbles, brow furrowed. “Too early for this--.”

You smile idiotically, unable to resist. “...Or should I say…. Hot~ —OOOOFF!!!” Right as you utter that word, he very gently smack his pillow at your face, muffling your giggles.

His face twisted like he smelled something horrible and he sighs painfully. A large reluctant grin sprouts across his lips and you burst into full laughter at his disgust. You’ve made some bad puns before. But that one was up there. “.... Why?! Gah—That one …. actually hurt—Physically hurt me!! That was so bad.” He mutters and shakes his head slowly.

“Where??” You manage to ask through your giggles.

He move his entire body so he can show you and points to his chest with his pointer and middle finger chuckling at his words. “Here—Right here. Goddamn it, that was so awful!!... Holyshitwoman.”

You can’t help but laugh harder at him as he shakes his head at you a little more, but he is still smiling widely. “I’m sorry, Love.”

“Pfft! Whatever! No you’re not.” He snorts with his eyebrow raised.

Still laughing at yourself, you shake your head sharply, still sporting a ridiculous smile. “Yeah—No… I’m not.” You stretch your arms out a little and continue to giggle softly to yourself. “Remember you asked this to marry you!” Gesturing vaguely to all of your body you shimmy your arms slight. “...You're gonna have to deal with this shit for a while! You sure you wanna sign up for this the rest of your life?”

Muriel blushes a bit, but has a cute grin on his face as he leans into you, his gaze very warm. “... Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” He says under his breath his pointer finger and thumb slightly tilting back your chin. A large aroused shiver runs up your spine, making your breath shaky as he closes the gap. His chapped morning lips tenderly pressed against yours, and you kiss him back. Loving his touch, his taste, his gentleness, his everything. This is the man you are going to marry. How did I manage this? Not only does he love me….. I’m not afraid to be myself. He makes me feel so safe. He makes me feel brave. Strong… like I could do anything. I want to be by his side forever. I want to be there for him.

Somehow you find yourself straddled on top of him, lips smacking passionately. It’s unclear how exactly you got there, but really, you do not care. Both of you start to feel hot and heavy, hips starting to move and grind erotically. And you start to pull up his shirt, thirsting to taste, feeling hunger in your eyes. As you work your kisses down his abdomen, making him slightly moan and hiss, you start to undo his pants. But out of nowhere he becomes stiff and grabs your wrist gently to stop you. “—Wait!!! Rhemi! IT’S THE SOLSTICE TODAY!!”

“Huh?....” Your eyes meet with his, the urgency behind his gaze makes you realize—FUCK! Today is the third day!!!! You inhale sharply gasping, “AVA!!!! SHIT FUCK!!!! WHAT TIME IS IT?! We—We still have to talk to Gilbert!!! OH, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!!” Both of you hastily scramble to get dressed. Ava is probably waiting around outside this very moment to practice a few more times before tonight. After donning your boots, you glance up at Muriel and notice a small hickey on his neck, before he covers it up with his green scarf. You smack your forehead with your left palm and groan. “Fuck…. I did it again…. I’m so sorry, Muri. I’m now the frigid queen of blue balling.”

Muriel turns to you as he clasps. “I’ll live. I know this is important to Ava and to you! You two have been working very hard for more than a week.” You stick out your bottom lip a little feeling very guilty still. “.... Don’t look like that.” He snorts in amusement at you.

Your face flushes all of a sudden. “Look like what?”

“Like this.” He sticks out his bottom lip imitating what must be your expression… and he does it a little too well.

Your brow furrows and your mouth gapes open feeling a bit impressed and called out. “I-I do not look like that!”

He stifles a short bark with his hand, nodding his head. “Yes. You do! Just like a kid who dropped their candy.” You start to stick out your bottom lip a bit more out of instinct and his shoulders shake, holding in his laughter.

“I am offended by this accusation, sir! I am an adult!! And I do not pout like that!” You fold your arms tightly trying to hide a smile.

“What??” He snickers a bit at your reaction and shrugs. “...It’s cute. I think it is anyway.”

Not knowing what to say in retaliation, you mutter, “Shut up...”, and stick out your tongue making his shoulder shake from holding in his laughter.

“Oh, yeah. You're an adult alright” His hand brushes against your cheek and he leans down kissing your forehead. “I’m going to see if anyone needs some help today. When I come back I’ll bring you back something to eat.”

Unable to resist, you wriggle your brow, quickly wink, and seductively bite your bottom lip. “Ooh, are you now, Muri~?”

Muriel sputters as crimson red paints his face and ears. “Dammit!! NOT LIKE THAT!!!” He half shouts, throwing his cloak over his shoulders. “... Terrible!! Just…. terrible!!” He grumbles under his breath, but you swear you can hear a slight snorty chuckle.

You tilt your head and glance at his groin. “I mean….. I have been rather hungry for some—”

“—R-RHEMI!!”

“What?? I was going to say ‘fish’.” You grin, batting your eyelashes, fakely looking innocent, stifling your snickers. “... Where was your mind at, Muriel?”

“Yeah…. sure you were…” He snorts through his nose and rolls his eyes, attempting to hide a flattered grin behind the fur of his cloak.

As you fasten you corset belt you quickly ask,“Are you trying to say… you wouldn’t like that?”

He stiffens, staring hard at the ground, scratching his neck, grumpily murmuring, “....Didn’tsaythat….” Slightly smirking at the thought, then shakes his head from lewd thoughts, his cheeks flushed once again. “—Fish! I am going and getting us some fish! Y-You— Go find Ava!” Adorably, he storms out the tent, and you giggle to yourself. Oh boy, I fuckin’ love that shy man~

After you finally get yourself presentable, you dash out of the tent and start to look around camp for Ava. Shockingly, they aren’t waiting outside. Judging by the sun, it’s about to be noon and the sun will be going down in only five or so hours. Gilbert starts the tales around nine o’clock. Time is of the essence!

You make your way around, you search high and low. You don’t have their pencil anymore, nor anything else that is theirs so you can’t conjure a searching spell to find them like you did before. Some more time goes by and you’ve looked almost everywhere for them; near the tombstones, on the hillside where the forget-me-nots are next to camp, you even search near their tent. Not many people are awake right now, you could only guess that they are all still resting from staying up so late last night. But you do see Ida and Keavy walking around, then notice Una rocking her little baby asleep in her arms outside of her tent while some of her younger kids are weaving baskets. To make sure that you don’t stir anyone up, you start to whisper Ava’s name, hoping that they would come out. But it’s no use. You even politely ask around to the people who are awake. Yet no one has seen them since early this morning during their patrol.

Feeling at a loss, you decide to take a break for a moment and sit near the giant fire in the middle of camp. Not very long after, you notice Muriel walking towards you with four large fish tied to some string. He looks around you with slight confusion on his face. “Where’s Ava?” He asks as he starts to cook three of the four fish in the large fire, and tosses Inanna the other. “I caught them something to eat too.”

You huff, stick out your bottom lip feeling a bit defeated. “Still can’t find them…” A small shiver runs down your spine and tuck your knees into your chest.

“Hmm…”

Both of you sit there for a moment while the fish cook. A large growl rubbles loudly from your stomach as you eye the large cooking trout. Muriel eyes fall onto you, and your face blanches a bit. He chuckles softly, takes one of the trout that’s ready and hands it to you. “... You should eat… don’t need you passing out today.”

“Yeah, I’m not that delicate, dear!” You scowl at him slightly. But hastily you grab the fish by the stick instantly making your mouth water. “....Buuuut you've got a good point.”

You take a large bite without a second thought and Muriel shudders.“—Hey, careful! Don’t burn—” You shrug, and his words die in his throat. It’s warm, but not that bad, it doesn’t burn your mouth either so you continue to eat. “I… I just took that off the fire…” He mutters to himself, shaking his head a little, inspecting the fish in your hand. “Is it not cooked?”

You shake your head and wipe your mouth with your sleeve. “Tastes done to me.” But it is weird that it’s already cool enough to eat.

Unconvinced, he pokes at the unchard part of it with his finger, testing the temperature. Immediately he pulls away, hissing and shaking his hand, sticking his finger briefly in his mouth to cool it. “It’s still hot!!.... Rem, H-How are you doing that?!”

You stop chewing and look between him and the fish. There are still some embers burning on the scales. It is hot. As you think for a few seconds, you just now realized that you don’t remember the last time you have been burnt. Other than fevers from being sick and the seduction elixir, heat hasn’t really bothered you. “.... I… I dunno…” You put the fish down for a moment and stare at your hands, but they are also unfazed by the searing heat. This is really weird.

Muriel barks a confused and impressed chuckle, shaking his head as he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you partly into his cloak. “... You….. Always keeping me on my toes…”

“I keep myself on my toes…” You snort, unsure what to do with this new information, other than laugh that is.

For the next few minutes, you both sit there in silence as you continue to eat your meal. Then a thought comes across your mind, making you giggle a bit. “What?” He asks after swallowing a mouth full.

“I just thought of something…. If I’m a phoenix… then why are my feet always so freakin’ cold?”

Muriel’s eyes open wide, then he throws his head back laughing so hard it makes his whole body shake. Unable to resist his infectious laugh, you join in. As soon as he gets a hold of himself he places his fish down and wraps both arms around your waist, pulls you into his lap and kisses your temple. “You’re a mess…. but I love you for it.” Nobody is really around, so you both enjoy being snuggled close in this cold southern air.

As much as you want to stay in the warm embrace of your sweet hermit, you both know you have to continue your search for Ava. Now getting desperate, you even start to search in between the tents to see if they are hiding there. “Ava!!!” You loudly whisper, sneaking around somewhere near Gilbert and Una’s large family tent. “....Aaaaaaavaaaa!...... Com’on, Ava!! We’re running out of—” As you turn around you nearly bump into a tall figure carrying a large bundle of furs in their arms. “WOOH! WOOPS!!!” The both of you jolt and shudder from the surprise and you make them drop all the fur to the ground. Your hands fly up feeling incredibly embarrassed as you backup instinctively, unsure who it is. “OOO!—S-SORRY!! Sorry!... sorry.. M-my fault!! Here let me help you with that!” You whimper, scrambling to the ground to collect them and brush off the dirt.

An all too familiar irritated tut makes you stop. Quickly glancing up towards their face, and you're greeted with tightly folded arms and a disgusted looking sneer. Your brow twitches slightly and a small bead of sweat forms on your temple under their piercing hateful gaze; you haven’t seen them since last night on the hillside... Oh great… just what I needed right now… “Oh!... H-Hey…. Shona…” She slowly blinks silently, and slightly flaring her nostrils, just beaming down at you. You didn’t notice till now, but you’ve made your way back around to her and Ava’s tent. You nervously smile and sheepishly hand her back the furs and she snatches them back, grumbling under her breath without the slightest hint of a ‘thank you’.—No surprise there. Technically it was partly your fault.

For the first time, you see that the entrance of their tent is wide open, her hands are too full, so she couldn’t shut it back immediately. Your eyes naturally follow her as she places the furs down near a half finished light colored parka pinned to a mannequin standing on a wooden tripod. It was very dainty looking, but it was obvious the work is very well done. Intrigued, you pop your head inside the tent a little more and you see furs, leather, beads, tassels, and other material litter half of the tent. Weapons, spears, bows and arrows litter the other half and there are two small dividers on opposite sides that appear to be sleeping quarters. Easy to tell which side is who’s. Shona then dashes back out, jerking the tent entrance shut, and folds her arms once with her very sour expression. Feeling a bit awkward, you rub the ball of your right foot into the cold dirt, curiosity got the best of you. “Th—that parka is really pretty… Did you make it?” You mutter attempting to diffuse some of the tension, but it doesn’t seem to help.

Shona gives nothing but cold silence. It’s evident that she still despises you and is clearly hinting that she wants you to leave. You almost do just that, but then a thought occurred that she is bound to know exactly where her twin is. You swallow hard and muster up the courage to finally ask. “... So… ah…. Ha-have you seen Ava around lately?? I'm looking for them.” She continues to stand there in front of her tent silent, then shifts her weight to her left hip, and raises an eyebrow harshly judging once again. Holy shit woman. If looks could fuckin’ kill… You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh heavily, just about fed up with this hateful attitude of hers. “Mmmmkay—... Look, I need to find them. It’s really important that I do. Have you seen them?” She exhales hard through her nose, seeming determined to just to stand there and not tell you a thing. You soften your face and stare up at her now pleading. “Please, Shona…. It’s about something that is important to them.” At last, she huffs, rolls her eyes, reluctantly pointing you towards the stalls where the animals are held on the other side of camp. Finally!!! Thankful, your shoulders relax slightly feeling relieved you smile kindly to her but she just scowls harder. “Thank you, Shona.”

Tuning your heels around, you start to hurry off in that direction, but she opens her mouth. “....You know…” Her words stop you dead in your tracks, she speaks very softly, but has a particularly sour tone to it, and you whip your head back around to meet her green eyes. “...Last night didn’t mean anything, NewComer. You’re just more of a decent magician than expected.” She pauses and a small malicious smirk twitches up in the corners of her mouth as she takes a few steps closer towards you. “... You may have been able to cast your aura… you may be able to speak the language of old… hell, you may even marry my cousin that you don’t deserve…” Your fist clenches up tightly as she leans her head down almost to your level looking very sadistically, making her long braid fall down off her shoulder, and it swings side-to-side as she mutters just above a whisper. “.... But will never be one of us.”

You press your lips together tightly as you focus on slowing your now shaky breathing as rage and anger starts to burn inside of your chest. You then take a few steps back before your temper gets the best of you. You know that she is just dumping all her built up resentment and anger on you. But that was unnecessarily cruel… You hate to admit it, but that one hurt… a lot. You haven't belonged with anywhere except your friends in a long time. You don’t even remember belonging to anything else... family is forien to you. And you have been fine with that. You didn’t care. But then again, being here with the Kokhuri, you started to feel a strange familiar sense of family you’ve secretly longed for. But once you get comfortable again, Shona seems to always be there to keep gracing you with rude reminders of how that isn’t really true.

It’s frustrating that you must hold back what you really want to say to her, but you slowly start to walk backwards away. Her loathing smirk just grows even wider. You turn yourself around sluggishly to walk away, but your feet suddenly stop. Part of you wants to tell her off so badly, but you know that will push her in the other direction even more. Strangely, you still just want to be her friend. You want her to know you mean no harm. You're not a bad person. You don’t want her to be threatened by you. But… this was a cold hearted attack. She’s just… so fucking mean. Your mouth opens before you can stop yourself feeling your heart beat increase behind your sternum. “Hey, Shona…” Turning back around to face them once again, they glare back at you, clearly feeling very victorious, seeming to be awaiting some kind of vicious retaliation. But that's what she wants…. She wants you to prove her right.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts together, pause and nod to yourself. Impatiently, she shakes her head and shrugs wanting to know what you have to say. “Well??.... What?? I don’t have all day….”

You take in another deep breath to calm yourself, clear away your emotions, and think about the root of all of this. You unwind your fist and drop your tight clenched shoulders and calmly speak in a very empathetic tone. “I know you are in a lot of pain… and you have the right to be angry about it.” Shona shudders and her smirk falls into a low tight frown. She was not expecting that, at least now you’ve got her attention. “… But just because someone else really hurt you… doesn’t give you the right to constantly try to hurt me.” Her eyes are wide, and just seemingly stunned by your statement. As you turn away to trundle off, you utter one last sentence. “... Just…. think about that one for awhile… Will ya?” And refuse to look back.

As you pass another tent you veer in front of it to clear your head before continuing towards the stables. Her words cut like a damn knife. But you have to keep going. Many tonight she’ll see…But I doubt tat she will ever stop hating me though.

Once you get a hold of yourself you start to make you way over to where the animals are held. Low and behold, there is Ava, hiding themselves behind the horse’s pin sitting on the ground with two fluffy ox calves curled up next to them, petting their heads as they are fast asleep.

Relieved you sigh, “There you are!” They start at the sound of your voice, quickly standing to their feet, they don’t seem to be happy that you're here. Wait… were they hiding from me?? Shaking the thought way, you wave them to follow you, hoping that isn’t the case. “...C'mon! Lets go talk to your dad. It’s getting late.” As you turn to start to travel in that direction, but they tug your cloak and pull you back. When you glance back at them, they shake their head widely, but slowly. They look so terrified . “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to do this?” Ava stares down at the ground and shrugs and your hands instinctively hold your hips. “So you were hiding from me, huh, Ava??” A small bead of sweat foams on their forehead and they scratch the back of their head, still avoiding your eyes. “... Are you getting cold feet?”

Sheepishly they nod, looking ashamed and they start to move their hands slowly. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Everyone is going to watch this.”

“I thought that was the point.”

They sigh hard. “Maybe next year… This is just too much right now.”

Frustration starts to recharge your depleted energy and your blood starts to lightly boil. Brow furrowed, nostrils flared. I have been looking for their ass for almost two hours, been insulted by their sister, blue-balled my fiancé—again—and they are telling me they are getting cold feet NOW?! Suddenly your arms move without a second thought. Ava jolts as you grab their face with both hands, squishing their cheeks together, their face low looking like a fish, and pull their head down to your level. “AVA. Listen. To. Me….” Ava is now completely rigid and unsure what to do, but they don’t pull away, their face bright red as they are forced to look into your eyes and you inhale deeply and encouragement suddenly floods your mind. “You’ve been practicing this for the past week and a half! You have mastered the magic. You have mastered the story.” You nearly touch their forehead with yours, and feel the heat start to radiate off their face and they hold their breath. You may be too close for comfort, but you don’t care and you slightly shake them out of excitement. “You and I are going to talk to your father. You're going to show everyone what you can do. You are going to do amazing, and you are going to make your dreams a reality!!! AVA!! You. Can. Do. This!!!” Their cheeks become warm in your cool hands and they groan a little looking behind you. You whip yourself around, and see Keavy holding a bucket of feed, looking very confused at whatever she is looking at. Realizing how strange this all might look, you release Ava’s face, but grab their fur cloak so you don’t let them run off. “—Not what it looks like!!” You utter, sweat falling off your temple.

“Yeah… I know…” She says with an entertained looking grin on her face and shaking the feed bucket. The ox calves jump up with a little low moo and trot over towards Keavy’s direction. “... Shawn told me you two were up to something, ‘bout four days ago. Don’t know what it’s about, but I’m sure it's exciting if you gotta hide it from everyone, Ava~”

You can't help but smile proudly, “You have no idea!” But then realize you let go of Ava’s cloak and they have vanished. You whip yourself back to Keavy, “GAHH!! SHIT!!! Where’d they—?!”

She gives you a blank look, resting her weight on the wooden fence post and points in the direction of the hillside next to camp. “Looked like they were in a hurry…”

You hastily jump over the pen about to sprint in that direction, yelling their name. “AAV—OOOF!!” Then proceed to land face first into the dirt. Keavy first covers her mouth in concern, but once she sees that you're fine, and you spit and sputter out the dirt from your mouth, she stifles her laughter as you scramble to your feet, run and shout like a madwoman. “—AVA!!!!!”

Your eyes catch the top of their head as they walk quickly through the middle of camp. Ava pretends to not hear you as they start to pick up speed, but little did they know— You’re fast— almost as fast as Asra— and you nearly gain on them in no time. Now they start to run, trying their best to evade you, they nearly slam themselves into Muriel’s chest as he happens to come around the blind corner. They dash around him and he stands there awkwardly. Confused, Muriel then realizes who that just was and opens his mouth to shout their name, but before he can, you half shout, “AVAAAAA!!!!!”, dashing as fast as you can right past him and Inanna. “—YOU CAN’T RUN FROM YOUR DESTINY!!!!” Suddenly you screech to a halt, looking back to Muriel, and inhale a large gasp. “Muriel!!! MY LOVE!!! My sweet man!!!! Don’t ask why, but I need your muscles!!!!”

“What-? Are they running from you?—” You grab him by the wrist with both hands, cutting him off. Ava is trying to make a break for it towards the graveyard. If they manage to get there, you know that have lost them.

“SHUSH! I SAID I HAD NO TIME TO EXPLAIN!!!! JUST, CHARGE!!!” You war cry, getting a strange sense of déjà vu here.

Muriel sighs grumpily, but follows behind as you lead the charge. Ava starts to slow down, probably thinking they have just about given you the slip. But then turns around to see you with a ferocious feral look in your eyes. “AAAAVA!!!” You screech.

They gasp a loud startled muffled squeak, as you tackle them from behind and wrap all four limbs around their shoulders and torso and you grunt through your bearded teeth. “YOU CAN’T RID OF THIS WITCH THAT EASILY!!!! I’M LIKE A FREAKIN’ LEACH!!!!!” In just three quick shakes, they pry you off of their back, somehow not hurting you in the process. As they fling you off, you manage to land gracefully on your feet and you try to summon your magic. Unfortunately it still seems to be drained from casting your aura last night. Still you some way or any other manage to bring up some rope and tie it around their right leg. They try to make another run for it, but fall down to the ground.

They swiftly get to their feet and find Muriel barreling towards them like a mad bull, and they go on the defensive instinctively, arms up, palms open. He attempts to grab Ava’s waist to tackle them and pin them down. Before he can they snatch his wrist and it soon becomes a battle of strength. Muriel starts to grit his teeth and mumbles, “Why are you…. running away…. from Rhemi?? Isn’t…. this is what… you’ve always…… wanted to do???” Ava bares their teeth and growls like an irritated wild animal and lunges forwards and grabs his waist, forcing him backwards and knocking half the wind out of him. He gets his footing and slowly pushes and wrestles them back and they release his waist. Taking the opportunity, in one fast move, Muriel bear hugs them, forcing their upper arms to their sides, unable to use them effectively and he just lifts them off their feet. They dangle there, wriggling and squirming about and start to kick their feet around. At this point, poor Muriel has had enough of this crap. “You’ve been caught! So—just—HOLD… STILL!! I don’t want to hurt you!!!”

All three of you now take a breath and you huff and puff for air. Once you catch some of your breath and they stop protesting, you walk over to where Muriel is binding them tightly. “Ava! Stop fighting will ya? He’ll let you go if you stop trying to run!” They open and close their mouth furiously, seeming to want to tell you to go to hell. You sigh deeply and look into their eyes sincerely. “Ava.... If you don’t do this now, you never will….. You know that!... I know you do….”

They finally stop fighting for a few seconds and their face relaxes. A reluctant moan escapes their lungs and they calmly tap Muriel’s forearm with their hand, signaling to let them go. Muriel and you exchange one brief glance and you nod to him. Once they are released they don’t make anymore attempts to run away as they drop to sit on the cold ground covered in forget-me-nots, then lay down flat on their back and gazing into the partly cloudy sky. Finally they start to move their hands. “What if Papa says ‘no’?”

You squat down to their level feeling rather exhausted after all this running and tackling. “Then, he says ‘no’. He isn’t going to disown you.”

Ava their trunk back up and starts to move their hands a bit faster and more emotionally. “What if I just embarrass myself?!”

“You’re not going to embarrass yourself, Ava. Tell me one other person— other than me— than can do what you can do?? And if you mess up a part, or make a mistake, it’s not the end of the world. Yes, these are trials. But no one knows what it's supposed to look like.”

Ava nods their head and blows an unconvinced raspberry out their mouth, draping their left arm lazily over their knee.

Muriel then kneels down and places his hand gently on their shoulder. “Ava… I’ve seen how it looks, just in a few days you’ve managed to make the story look great— You can understand what's going on without the verbal story….. Rhemi’s not trying to force anything on you. But running away isn’t the answer either. Running will just get easier while facing this head-on will get harder and harder..... besides... She isn’t going to stop... Trust me.”

Ava blows a piece of hair off of their face and nods to themself a bit. You tilt your head and tuck your loose side bangs behind your ear. “Ava, I know you're worried about a number of things.” You stand to your feet and offer your hand to them. “You will never know if you don’t try.” Finally they take your hand and you help pull them up to their feet. “You can do this, Ava.”

They give a small grin and look towards Muriel and start to move their hands. It takes you a moment, then you translate what they said. “They said, ‘... She has a weird way of motivating people. I never thought tackling would be one of them.’”

Muriel barks a short laugh. “You’re not the only person she’s tackled. Just be happy she did threaten you.”

Ava snorts, and speaks with her hands making you giggle a little. “They said, ‘I don’t find that surprising’.”

All three of you make your way up the hillside, very shocked that no one has noticed your rather loud hijinxs. You thank Muriel for his help, but then quickly have to make your way to Ava’s father. You’ve lost enough time as it is.

Luckily, Gilbert is found not far from his and Una’s tent, washing clothes with the younger children. Some of the older boys around fourteen to eight are helping while the other smaller ones play. He greets you two with his iconic large smile and jolly laugh. “Madainn mhath, Ava, Rhemi…. what can I do for you?”

Ava is stiff as a board and is pointedly staring at their feet, parolized by apprehension and fear. You decide to take pity on the poor thing and speak up. “Good morning… afternoon?... Whatever it is… Say… Gilbert?”

He stops washing for a moment, looking up at you from the ground, giving you his full attention. Quietly you lean closer and shield your mouth with your hand so no one else can hear. “Could we talk to you somewhere private, Gilbert?”

He blinks a few times, giving you a blank look, and darts from you to Ava with deepening suspension. He shrugs and places the wet sudsy clothes he was working on back into the water. “Ah… Sure. Alright then.” He stands to his feet and calls Shawn to take over for him. Shawn isn’t all that pleased getting roped into chores, but once he sees that it's the two of you he seems to not mind as much. While following behind Gilbert, you nearly have to drag Ava into the tent, they are so nervous. The worst part is telling him, and you know it. As you all enter the tent you pull the entrance closed while Gilbert and Ava sit near the fire. Gilbert stokes the fire and warms his wet hands and you take a seat next to Ava’s side. “So… what’s on the two of your minds, eh?” Gilbert asks, rolling down his sleeve.

Pure dead silence takes over the tent, building the tension even thicker as Ava refuses to look at either of your. You glance up at Ava, their face is beaming red and hot. Using your closest elbow, you nudge Ava’s side and they jump slightly, seeming to get them out of their stupor. They take a deep breath and start to move their hands slowly so you can understand. “... Papa… I want…. I want to help you with tonight’s story.”

Gilbert snorts, shaking his head confused. “...But…. you already help, my cub. You play the drum—”

Ava waves their hands cutting him off mid sentence. “No, no, no. I want to help… telling it.”

“Hmm?” Gilbert's eyes are incredibly wide and he holds his breath for a few seconds, completely taken off guard by this request. He then clears his throat unsure what to do or say, evident by him opening and closing his mouth a few times before spitting out actual words. “... Ava… I—…..How-.... I mean…. Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but….How else…. can you…?”

Mustering up all their courage, Ava answers him by summoning their dark blue shimmery magic in their hand. Two silhouettes then form taking the shape of a small child covered in a hood and a large fluffy wolf. With a flick of their opposite wrist, they sent the shadow puppets down off of their palm to the ground making them playfully chase one another. Despite the colors and size, the way Ava makes the puppets move and behave, it really looks like it’s two living creatures running around on the ground. Gilbert's face brightens, he leans down, his eyes fixed onto the shadowy figures completely fascinated and perplexed by the sight. He even reaches for the small child. His fingers faze right through their body, making them blurry, but it returns back to its shape immediately as his fingers move. “What…. What is this??”

You smile proudly at your student then offer the explanation. “Ava found me playing with their younger sibling on the hillside the second or third day we came here. I was showing off some of my illusion magic. This caught their eyes, and I taught them how to do it. They told me that this was like an old forgotten form of Master Speaking…”

“... The Master Illuminators.” He nods slowly to himself, his thoughts obviously racing, he covers his hands over his mouth, lost for words continuously mezzmerized by the shadow puppets movements. “.... So this is what we had forgotten for a hundred years?.... This is…so…. beautiful. You learned this just in a week, Ava?”

Ava’s cheeks start to turn pink, dropping their hand making the shadow puppets disappear into thin air. “If you think this is good, you should see the whole show!” You say giddily.

Gilbert's eyes finally look back up to the two of you, completely dumbfounded. “....There’s… There more??”

Ava sheepishly nods their head, rubbing their bicep with their opposite hand before they answer with their hands. “Been practicing.” Ava then gently places their hand on your closet shoulder, cheeks deeper red. “...Rhemi has been teaching me.”

A large grin washes over his face as he beams at Ava, he couldn't be more proud looking. “.... So… You are asking to start the trials, Ava?”

They swallow hard and take a deep inhale, nodding their head. “... But don’t tell anyone.”

Gilbert’s large smile falls, and is replaced with a confused frown. “What do you mean, ‘don’t tell anyone’?? Why not, my cub?? Your mother and Shona—”

Ava violently shakes their head protesting, staring at the ground before bringing their hands back up. “Just don’t tell them. Please. I don’t want anyone to know about it.”

Gilbert pushes out a long heavy exhale and rubs his temples, eventually he begrudgingly nods in agreement. “Alright, my cub… I don’t understand why. Everyone will find out by tonight—But you need to find someone to cover the drums!”

Ava nods sharply and excitedly and a wry smile widely. But then tears overwhelm their eyes and they quickly try to brush them away. This sudden emotion shocks both you and Gilbert. “Sorry, Papa—Rhemi…. I’m fine.” They say quickly with their left hand while trying to wipe the tears with the other.

Fatherly concern kicks in, and Gilbert scoots forwards on his knees closer to Ava. He pulls his child into his arms looking very worried, but they are reluctant to accept it. “What’s this?? Aren’t you happy, cub??”

They nod, and pull away enough so they can communicate and start to very emotionally move their hands. You almost don’t catch all of it because of the speed. “I am happy, Papa.... But I’m scared too.”

Gilbert looked at his child with such concern. “Why are you scared? My Ava is never scared!!”

Ava sniffles, not really wanting to answer, but they know they need to. “... I don’t want to be a disappointment again.”

“...What??” Gilbert’s face looks as if his heart just broke into pieces. “... When have I ever told you that you were a disappointment, Ava??”

They choke on their tears slightly, unable to look him in the eye. “You didn’t say it. No one has…. I felt like I was… Ever since I lost my voice….”

Gilbert pauses for a moment, but utterly appalled at the thought. “Why… why in the world would you think that??”

Ava does their very best to keep their composure, and their eyes meet with his. “....Because… I couldn’t be like you.”

Gilbert's heart is now completely broken. “Oh my cub… My poor sweet young cub….” A wave of sadness overwhelms him as tears pool in his eyes, lips pressing together tightly, he shakes his head slowly looking deeply into Ava’s eyes. Gently he cups his child’s face in his large palms, wipes their tears with his thumbs as they continue to roll down their cheeks, softly and comfortingly he speaks to them softly in Rune. “Ava… I have never been disappointed in you. I could care less that you couldn’t be like me! … You being here alive is alway enough for me…. I thought…. I thought I was going to lose one of my children that day…” Pressing his forehead against Ava’s, he pets their head with one hand as they start to sob. They lean into his palm on their cheek, accepting his comfort. “I.... I was just so hurt to see you and your sister so unhappy. My first born cubs were broken that day. It hurt to see my children feel like they had no purpose in life anymore…” Shakiness in his voice, he pauses for a moment to collect himself before tears take over. “...I am so sorry you believed that, Ava… Momma and I never wanted you to feel this way, cub. I’m so sorry.”

Ava pulls away and has a soft smile on their lips, looking so relieved to hear those words. They slowly move their hands. “...It wasn’t your fault, Papa. I never told you how I felt… I don’t think I knew I felt that way until recently.” The expressions on their face are so heartfelt, you can’t help but feel your heartstrings being pulled.

Gilbert holds Ava’s face again, pride gleaming in his eyes as he smiles at them and sniffles with them. “Ahhh! But look at you now! Your eyes are bright and full of life again! Figured something was going on—And I see it’s because you're doing what you want to do!! You amaze me every single day. I am so proud of you. Not for wanting to be like your old man, but for being who you are.”

Ava nods their head, red reaming their eyes, they throw their arms around his neck and they hug each other tightly and weep together. They both have seemed to have forgotten that you’re still there, but you don’t care. You can’t help but feel emotional too witnessing and you hide your tears too. You feel so proud of Ava. This had been bothering them for such a long time. This was an important moment for the two of them. It’s no secret that these two are very close. Despite the size of Gilbert’s family, he and Una are close to all their children, you don’t quite know how they manage it.

After a while, Ava and Gilbert pull themselves together, straighten themselves up, and wipe the tear away. Gilbert snorts inspecting the tears on top of his hand. “Oi—Airson gaol na Athair Mhòir!! I have a feeling this is going to be a ‘soggy’ day, isn’t it??” And the three of your spiral into collected laughter. It’s true. There have been a lot of emotion and tears just in the past sixteen or hours. There is bound to be more.

While you were next to Gilbert, you decided to give him your journal so he could read over. Ava helped here and there during your down time when teaching, but Gilbert has the last say on the matter. You don't plan on publishing it or anything, but it would be nice to have for some of the children who no longer live here in the Steppe. As all three of you stand to your feet Gilbert tucks the journal carefully into a satchel on his side. “Now. I promise I won’t tell anyone, but you're going to have to explain that to your sister. And she’s been in a rather fowl mood lately!”

Ava sighs deeply and rolls their eyes. “Trust me. I know.”

Gilbert huffs a small jolly chuckle and then pats Ava on their shoulder. “Oh! She’s been cross with you too, has she??” Ava nods slowly looking slightly guilty and Gilbert nods to the entrance of the tent. “Go on, cub. Get plenty of rest before tonight. I know you were up for patrol this morning right after the celebration. Shona said that you haven't been back to bed. You must be tired.”

You quickly grab their arm and whip them around to face you.“You haven't slept since this yesterday?!” As they turn to face you, you notice the bags under their eyes and look at them scoldingly. “AVA!! That isn’t good!”

They shrug and sneer looking embarrassed. “I was too worked up to get rest!!! My thoughts kept me away!”

You smack their thick muscly arm with a growl. “That’s still not good for you!!!!”

Red takes over their face and ears making Gilbert burst into laughter again. “We better find you one like this one!”

Ava Lets out a muffled embarrassed moan. “PAPA, STOP IT! Your embarrassing me!!”

—————————————

The rest of the afternoon flew by, before you know it, it’s dinner time. Muriel and you keep Ava company tonight before the story. Shona looked to be very upset by this, but she’ll get over it after tonight…. or so you hope…

Ava thankfully got some sleep and looked much more rested. But they still looked so jittery, they barely ate. Muriel and you look to each other, concerned. “Ava, you alright?” He asks, placing his hand on their shoulder.

Ava exhales hard, then nods with a wry grin. “Here.” He hands them the flatbread. “You need to eat.”

Ava shakes their hand, not very interested in food. But you chime in quickly. “NO! Take it! You need something in your stomach. Bread is light, but it will at least hold you over. You don’t need to pass out up there!”

With a huff they take it and give Muriel a knowing look, making him snort. “Yes… She’s always like this. Little mother hen.”

“Pffft! Like you are one to talk!” You grumble under your breath making Ava chuckle at your little bantering.

After a while, it was time for Ava and Gilbert to get ready. You can tell, they were still really nervous, but they had determination as well. Everyone proceeded to gather around the fire, like they did every night, making an aisle in the middle. Tonight, instead of the back where Muriel and you usually sit, Muriel recommends that the two of you sit up in front to give Ava some moral support if needed. You feel proud of him being willing to be there for them. Muriel sits on the outside opposite of the aisle to make sure the younger kids and shorter people can see.

The time has at last come and all the Kokhurian’s erupt in cheers and chants “Master Speaker” in Rune. Gilbert enters the tent with his embroidered shawl over his shoulders, his headpiece with elk antlers on top of his head, and grey face paint over his eyelids. The crowd hushes instantly as he throws up his hand like they normally do. He draws in a deep breath and you even catch as he gives Una a small wink before he starts to speak. “As the Celebration draws to an end, I must thank you all for coming once again. I know the journey to the Shining Steppe can be long, sometimes treacherous. But it is all worth it in the end to see all your wonderful faces and to shield some light during these dark nights.…… This gathering was a particularly special year for all of us. Was it not?!” The crowd happily cheers, claps, and trills in agreement with him. “... Not only did we have one of our own return to us… Our fallen heroes Artturi and Glenna’s cub, Muriel.” Gilbert gestures towards him, making him sink down into his cloak as joyful proud eyes fall on him, and you take his hand and smile brightly, making him relax a little as Gilbert continues to speak. “... But we had an excellent Midnight Celebration!! We have honored Kok’s spirit with wonderful casts! Such love and pure soulful auras that was shared last night on the hillside..” Eyes now fall on both of you suddenly; you slightly blanch and shrink into yourself too but a few people reach their arms over and pat your’s and Muriel’s back and shoulder. “....But that is not all that is special this year!!” The crowd now turn their eyes back to Gilbert, looking rather perplexed, eager for him to answer after his dramatic pause. “... This year, I have a new person to help tell the stories of old...” Gasps and whispers ring throughout the crowd. Anxiously you wait for Ava’s introduction. Gilbert raises his hand towards the tent’s entrance with a wide proud, jolly, smile. “... They began their trials tonight for a lost artform of Illuminator. I am proud to present to you…..” Every single head whips around to the back of the tent, eager to see the face of the new apprentice. Ava steps forwards and starts to walk down the aisle and shocked sharp gasps erupt from almost everyone’s mouth, some talk among themselves. “... My own child.... one of my oldest cubs, Ava.”

You can’t help but feel incredibly giddy inside and to try and contain your excitement. They look so dashing!! Keeping their scarf around their neck, their fur cloak is replaced with a smaller shawl, similar to Gilbert’s. They also have a small wreath-like crown made up of herbs and grass on top of their head, and gray paint also on their eyelids and partly on their bottom lip, and runs down their chin. You catch a glimpse of Una, Keavy, Shawn and Shona’s faces, all with such very mixed emotions. Shawn's eyes are bright and full of excitement, Keavy and Una are clasping their mouths in utter shock. But Shona, she looks like she can’t believe her eyes. Such sorrow and turmoil in her face. Una looks at all her older children and whispers, “Did any of you know about this?” All shake their head vigorously, but Shona can’t take her eyes off Ava as they walk down the center aisle. Ida pats Shona’s leg and they seem to snap out of their trace and she shakes her head as well.

Gilbert brings up his hand once more, making the crowd hush once again as Ava stands next to him and he switches to Rune. “... Fellow Elders. Ava wishes to present tonight’s story with me. We humbly ask for your approval.”

With a nod Gilbert cues Ava to take center stage. Expecting them to look terrified, you are happy to find that they look rather calm and confident as they place their hand right over their heart and give a shallow bow. There is a slight pause, but then Una starts to a very slow beat with her hand on the top of her thigh. Soon other elders fall into the steady beat making Ava smile, the more people start to drum, the wider their smile. You can only guess that this was some kind of approval for them to go on. Soon everyone starts to drum and clap in unison, young and old. And they quickly glance at you and Muriel. You give them a small thumbs up with a large stupid smile, and Muriel grins reassuringly.

Gilbert brings up his hand once more, mirroring Ava’s humble wide smile and the tent is quiet once again. “..... Ava has told me to ask that you should all prepare yourselves. This form of storytelling has not been seen for over a hundred years.”

Before they both start, Gilbert whispers to them. “Ya’ ready, cub?” Ava takes in a deep breath, then looks to Shona. She obviously has no idea what's going on, but despite herself, she gives her twin sister a small forced smile. She seems apprehensive, but it must feel good to see Ava in that costume up there with their father.

Shona’s smile seems to give Ava the last bit of confidence that they needed and they finally nod sharply to their father, determination in their eyes. As Gilbert takes his spot they move towards the side and conjure their magic. Ava lowers the light of the fire behind them so that everyone can see what was happening.

As soon as the light dims, Ava casts the shadow puppets, but they do this on a completely different level than you ever can. The large tent becomes filled with the dark blue shimmery illusions, an atmospheric haze, and even smoky wisps. Soft gasps utter from the crowd, some children are frightened at first. But as soon as Gilbert starts to speak, they refocus on the story, mesmerized but the visuals.

“...Before there was the Steppe. Before there were seas dividing lands. Before creatures roamed Mother Earth. Before there was even time itself….. there were two beings that existed through space....” Ava blows on their palm and creates a small layer of smoke as their father continues. Making two human-like figures. But they looked fluid, flexible and morph their shapes. “...Here, there live two celestial beings, named Earth and Sky. The two would dance, make love, and travel through all the different realms and cosmos together, and they loved each internally…..

Earth was timid and quiet, yet very strong, sturdy, and often stubborn. When she was tested, she would quake and tremble terribly, and reminded others that she was not to be trifled with…

Sky was very patient and flexible, but also could turn at the slightest moment into a raging storm, unleashing his thunder and lightning. His moods are ever changing from dark to light.

…. One day Earth and Sky had a child together, a large bright star named Berko. They could not believe how much their love could grow as their child came into light. But as Berko grew brighter and hot, he became impatient and fiery. As he became old enough to go off by himself, he would often leave his parents behind. And shoot off alone though the cosmos, never giving much thought to his parent’s lessons. For he was much faster than Earth and Sky, and he became arrogant and believed that he knew more than the two ancient beings. One day he set out on a quest and seemed to be looking for something. When his parents asked what it was for, he would say, “It’s none of your concern!”, and shot off.

Mother Earth and Father Sky were saddened by their son’s arrogance. They had only showered him with love, affection, and tried to teach him well. But it is to be expected of such a young being. “One day. He will see, Mother.” Said Father Sky to his wife as she wept, fearing for the safety of her son.”

Berko traveled far and wide, exploring across many realms and met many strange beings. He even traveled through the abyss, a place even his parents never dared to enter. Berko was chased after by the monsters that dwell in the shadow, but he thought it was all fun and games. They hated the light he shed from his body and it even hurt their eyes. They loathed the ignorant start for his actions and swore revenge. But he did not care, nor was he afraid. “I’m too fast for those monsters anyway.”, he’s gloat. Feeling invincible, he laughed in the monster's face. He had many adventures, but still felt almost empty inside. Like something was missing. This feeling grew and grew and Berko started to feel sad and lonely, unsure what this feeling was or how to stop it. One day he met a slow and patient comet. Berko finally stopped shooting across the cosmos and gazed at her icy beauty. In that moment he had no need to search anymore, for he found his one true love, a love that he wanted like his parents had. They were complete opposites, but their attraction was unstoppable.

The two soon wed. Happy to see their son finally happy, Earth and Sky welcomed Comet. But Berko’s Mother and Father warned them. “If you two are to produce children, I fear that they will not be immortal. They will not be able to fly like we do. Nothing would keep themselves from falling into the dark abyss where terrible monsters hide. For fire and ice did not mix well.” Mother Earth said to her only child.

But once again, Berko did not care and ignored his parent’s advice, for he and Comet were young and madly in love. “We do not need your warnings, we do not need your help. I am not afraid of the monsters that lie in the dark abyss.” Said Berko as he and Comet held hands and flew off into the different realms, leaving behind Mother Earth and Father Sky...”

Gilbert does his best to not be distracted by the gorgeous shadow puppets that Ava is making. It’s clear that he is fighting back so many emotions right now and pauses for a few seconds. Ava glances back at him, and he shakes his head and presses on like the true story teller he is.

“... Soon the Berko and Comet bore a child. Wee babe made the two celestial beings so very happy, and strengthened their love for one another. Berko started to understand what his parents meant in their lessons. “Perhaps they do understand more than I had thought.” Pondered Berko.

However the joy soon fell, it eventually became clear, like Mother Earth and Father Sky had warned, the child was mortal, had skin hair and fur over their bodies, and was unable to fly Berko and Comet. Comet constantly had to hold in her arms and she was determined to never let them go.

But unfortunately, the child grew and grew and got heavier and heavier with each passing moment. Eventually, Comet became so fatigued from carrying the child in her arms. The child was also tired of being held. They became irritated, restless, wiggled and kicked. Comet did her very best, but it wasn’t enough. She was unable to keep the child in her arms, and they fell down into the abyss. Berko and Comet dived down to catch their baby, but sadly, they were quickly gobbled up by monsters that were hiding in the darkness. Berko pulled his wife from the darkness in fear of both of their lives. The monsters showed their faces from out of the shadows, smirking evilly, very pleased that they finally got their revenge. Berko had all but forgotten his terrible actions, and pleaded with monsters to return his child. But laughed at his face, slithering and slinking away… Never to be seen again…

.... Berko and Comet were so devastated that they lost their first child. Heartbroken, lost, and terrified, the two sought help from Berko’s parents, Mother Earth and Father Sky. Berko feared that he would be rejected, the way he treated them was awful. Comet and he were so arrogant as to not heed his parents' warning. He felt like he did not deserve their love. But Mother Earth and Father Sky welcomed them both with open arms. They loved him, despite his foolishness. They too were so very heartbroken about the loss of the wee babe, this was their son’s first child. Berko and Comet became fearful and cried, for they were expecting another child. They too would be mortal and unable to fly forever.

Mother Earth and Father Sky then pondered on this dilemma. None of them could not bear to have another child lost to the abyss. Mother Earth then said to Comet and Berko, “Once the child comes, I will hold them.” She inhaled deeply and became a large sphere. “... This way, I am much bigger than your arms. I can hold thousands of children. They can even eat my plants that grow on my body. They will be safe here.”

Unconvinced, Comet shakes her head. “Yes, you are much larger and stronger than I. But what if they jump or wiggle free? You can not hold them down, Great Mother. For you will have no arms in this form.”

“But I can,” interjected Father Sky, as he became transparent and airy, covering all of his wife. “... I will wrap myself around Mother. I will hold them down. My eyes will even keep watch over them. Keep them safe.”

Berko was shocked at his parents' willingness to sacrifice so much just to help the young couple and his children. The gesture was too great and protested, consumed with such powerful guilt. “... But if you hold down our children, you both will have to stay in this realm forever. You will not be able to travel ever again.”

Father Sky hugged his son, tightly with a large smile. “Mother and I would trade our immortality for you and these children, Berko. That is what it is to be a parent.”

Comet then started to sob uncontrollably, “....But if… if we give you our children, we will not get to see them all the time…. I so wanted to watch them grow.” All four were quiet for a moment. This was true, Berko and Comet would not be able to see them and they’re lives will also be very short…. But there was no other solution. The children would perish without Mother Earth and Father Sky.

With a heavy heart, Berko and Comet eventually agreed that Great Mother Earth and Great Father Sky would take the children on as their own. Soon the day came, Berko and Comet bore twins and named them, Ainmhidh and Daonna.

Comet left them on Mother’s surface, breaking her heart, and she continued to weep for her children. In doing so, she created various bodies of water. From vast oceans, and seas, to fast moving rivers, and even small trickling streams. She cried so much, half her body was melted in the process, and water covered much of Mother Earth's body. Unknowingly in return, Comet provided nourishment for the children. They will always live through her and they will always be a part of one another.

Berko shattered himself into billions of stars to help brighten Father Sky’s body, so the children had something to look at during the night. Giving them guidance and light. Something they can look up to in wonder.

To this day, you can still see Comet and Berko. They still come and visit, you see. However, they cannot stop moving, if they will burn out they will die. Comet will sluggishly float over Father Sky’s body, leaving a trail of icy tears behind her, reluctant to leave. Berko will shoot across the horizon with his thousands of pieces at night, catching glimpses of his legacy live on in the care of Mother Earth and Father Sky.

Remember what our Great Mother and Father sacrificed for his child sake; And Remember children, what your parents would sacrifice for your future… Heed your parent’s warnings.”

Suddenly as the story ends, Ava rushes all the illusions and smoke back into the palms of their hands and they disappear. With an exhale, the fire brightens back up, filling the tent with bright light once more. The music stops, and the tent is stunned silent. Ava scans the crowd, awaiting for someone to say something, starting to become nervous.

Finally, a elder woman's voice in the back cries, “Aontaich an Soillsichear!!”, (Approve the Illuminator). As you glance back, you see that it was the elderly woman that serves the Kokhurian ale every night at dinner time. She has tears in her eyes but a large smile dances on her lips. Then another voice repeats that, then another one, then another until the entire tent fills with the same chant and people cheering on.

Ava's smile is so happy and wide, showing nearly all their teeth, and they fall to their knees, losing all of their composure. Gilbert covers his mouth with his hand and tries to hold back his tears, but is unable to control all this emotion. Pull Ava back to their feet, he wraps his arms around them and they return the embrace. Ava starts to softy sob. As they let go, they quickly straighten back up for one last moment as they both bow together and the crowd goes wild. Una, Keavy and Shawn are all crying together. Shona quickly dashes to the front, wrapping her arms around Ava, nearly knocking them over. Overcome with joy and sorrow, Shona and Ava just sob together. Shona lets go of her sister’s body, sweetly cups their face and presses her forehead to theirs as Ava holds her elbows, the gray paint running down their cheek from their eyes.

You even Muriel’s arms wrap around you and press a quick kiss on the top of your head. As you glance up, you see his eyes fighting back the tears. He was proud of Ava too. Proud of what a difference the two of you made for his cousin. it wouldn't have been possible without his help. He hadn’t known them for very long, but somehow they formed a bond. You both had.

Ava pulls out of Shona’s arms then rushes over to you and pulls you to your feet, you glance at Muriel unsure what is happening as they drag you to the front. “Wait—! What?! GAH!!” Both Gilbert and Ava lift you up off your feet by your arms and Gilbert announces, “Ava wants everyone to know… ‘This would have not been possible without this little NewComer!’.” Your body feels suddenly feverish and you just want to hide under a rock. This is too much attention. Gilbert laughter fills the tent. “Who knew that it takes being friends with my Ava is to beat them at Brùth Carachd!!” Everyone starts to burst into laughter and cheers and they finally bring you back to your feet, your face is very blanched by all this attention once again. But as you look over to Muriel he stands with the others, cheering and clapping for you too. Ava arm’s embrace your torso and their biggest hug, lifting you off your feet. Soon Una, Shawn and Keavy even joins this hug. Una even kisses your burning hot cheek.

Shona is just standing apart completely confused at all of this. Ava finally puts you back down once they realize Shona and look sheepish once again. Ida then jumps on Ava giggling and so happy for their sibling. “Ava! You’ve gotta show me how to do that!!!” She says cutely giggling and Ava is pulled away by a few enthusiastic elders, leaving you and Shona alone. In your peripheral, you can see Muriel as he becomes uneasy with her just standing there, unsure what she will do or say and he tries to gently push his way through the crowd to your rescue. Shona darts between you and Ava as she is being paraded around by Ronin, Gilbert, and Shawn singing a very merry tune once again. She shakes her head in disbelief, her eyes glassy and red from the tears. “So… so this—this… This is what you’ve two been doing together?.... You were teaching Ava… magic??” You take a step back feeling a bit uncomfortable under her piercing gaze and glancing frequently to Muriel who is still pushing through.

You still feel very tense being around her, but it does feel good for her to know the truth. “Y-...Yes. This is what I wanted to tell you before. But Ava asked me not to.”

“But, why??” Shona snaps furrowing her brow.

Preparing yourself for them to yell at you, stiffening your shoulder and hands. You swallow hard and answer. “... They were afraid of letting people down. Especially you. So we stayed quiet about it.” Shona’s eyes flutter and her lip starts to tremble and you can’t help but feel empathetic. “I—I am sorry if you’re hurt. But—You can think of it as a surprise in a way—”

Once again, you feel your lungs become breathless as arms are suddenly thrown over your shoulders. You must be dreaming. This… this isn’t happening…. You turn your head and see a dark head of hair braided long with a pink ribbon and earring tassels tickle your nose and neck. You can feel her tear drops as they pepper your neck. Shona. The person who claimed to hate your guts, is hugging you right now and has no signs of letting go.

Warm tears trickle down her face and pepper your neck. “You… you gave my Ava back their voice…”

To be continued….

FINALLY! This chapter was a bitch and a half let me tell you. We al almost done! just a few more chapters away!! YAY!!! =D

I hope you guys enjoy my hot trash! You all make it worth it! I love you all!!

#the arcana #the arcana game #muriel #muriel fanfic #journey back to the south #madllamamomma #rhemi the apprentice #muriel x mc #muriel x oc #muriel x rhemi #swf #ao3 #my hot trash #for my hungry trash pandas #part 9~

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starcityhq · 4 years ago

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WHAT: The whole city is watching the following live feed of Joker and Superman. As the choice is put to Clark, he hesitates, and Joker shows Clark just how serious he is.

WHO: Superman & Joker

WHEN: January 31st, 2021

SUPERMAN: It had been nearly a year and a half since he'd left Metropolis behind and relocated to Star City, simultaneously shedding his acceptance and cooperation with the hero ban in order to wear the cape again. He'd made that first appearance in a big way, but after years of Superman being off the map, acceptance of his return wasn't granted automatically. Long weeks had passed before he got even a trickle of what he'd once known in Metropolis - people calling out to him, asking him for help because they knew that he would come. It built from there. For every cry for help he answered, for every appearance he made doing his own work or the League's, more came. Now he was back to listening constantly and sometimes having to make the choice of what he could respond to and what had to go to someone else.

So it wasn't strange when a sharp, panicked voice cut through the noise just the night after Lois, Kara, and the others had left the city. If anything, he welcomed the distraction. Without them around, he had nothing to focus on but work. Within seconds, he'd gone out the window of his apartment in a streak of blue and red. The voice, a young woman by the sound of it, seemed to be retreating out of the city. The closer he got, the further it seemed, and soon he'd left Star City behind altogether. Some kind of kidnapping. That had to be it. As long as he could still hear her, he could reach her.

On he went until most signs of civilization had dropped away on either side of him. There was still a road, the voice, and power lines, though. It turned out that he was following all three. When he finally reached what seemed to be the place he was searching for, it led him to a warehouse situated by itself. Trucks were parked outside, though he couldn't see anyone moving among them, and a glance through what walls he could see through yielded nearly nothing.

"Help me, Superman!"

He broke the lock on a loading dock door in order to get inside and continue his pursuit.

JOKER: It was all in place. Today, the curtain rose and the show would go on and Joker was elated. He'd get his little peanut back, he would teach Superjerk a lesson and deal with Batman's continual distraction all in one fell swoop. It was time, after the puppet show, to do something that really put him back on the map. After all, he was tired of NOVA stealing the regard and attention that was rightfully his. Plus, he was beginning to think that people underestimated him and he wasn't having it. Why should he? He'd simply make them all see what a mistake that was.

Luring out Superman was a simple task. These noble types were always trying to save someone. And so Joker had given him someone to save. Of course, there would be no one in the warehouse but he and Superman. He and Clark Kent.

The moment he breached the dock, Joker sat at the control panel. Flicking a switch, he brought the live broadcast that was currently playing all over the city away from his prerecorded message and onto the man himself. Another button on his controls and the room that Clark was in, a holding room between the dock and the main building that had been specially rigged for this purpose--he needed to give Chuckie boy a raise--sealed both doors and clicked shut.

"My my, here he is. The man of the hour. You got that cue without me even having to prompt you." Another button and a clear hissing began as a thick green aerosol suddenly filled the room. "And now we can get one with the show, can't we?" Leaning forward to speak into the mic, Joker grinned with a sinister edge as he asked, "Tell me, Superman... what do you fear?" If only Scary were here to play along. He'd have to do him justice.

SUPERMAN: The young woman's voice fell silent as he actually reached the building. He was still scanning the walls, already working through where to search first, when the doors closed audibly behind him. Clark turned, brows furrowed. Getting out of that would be easy enough, but that wasn't the concern. Someone was watching him. Power plant or no, he'd detected no sensors on the door, and the place wasn't sophisticated enough for that.

The voice that answered him just moments later made him set his jaw. "Joker. What-" There was no time to finish the thought. As the gas poured into the room, Clark immediately began to cough. The sensation was nearly instant, and part of it was familiar enough by then that he recognized it. Nothing made him feel the way Kryptonite did, and the realization was like having ice water in his veins. It worked through his body quickly enough to have him doubling over in mere moments. The question went unanswered, though his head was swimming.

JOKER: No response. Not fun. Well, he would show Joker what he feared. The gas would act quickly on him. Now, to start to escalate. The door in front of him opened and he gave a bright grin. “Aaaaand showtime.”

“How will you ever get out, Superman? I guess the only way is forward.”

SUPERMAN: One of the most profound effects of Kryptonite was how heavy it made him feel. The sheer exertion moving his own body was like dragging himself through thick tar. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion, and it was all painfully exhausting.

It didn’t take him long to realize that there was more to it this time. As soon the shadows danced at the edges of the doorway, his mind was already playing tricks on him. Whispers of voices, all familiar, filled his head as he took those first few steps toward the door.

This is all your fault, Clark. It was Lois, Jon, his parents, Kara, Bruce, Diana...so many...all variations on a theme. You did this. He’d just stepped through the door when he spoke aloud, seemingly unaware that he was responding to people not there. “I didn’t mean it!”

JOKER: "Oh dear oh dear," Joker answered. "I'm sure you didn't. Not at all." Joker flipped another switch, grinning as he did so. The lights dropped out into complete blackness before the strobing began--bright, white and oppressive. All the things he needed to watch Clark Kent writhe. "But sometimes good intentions come up short."

In front of Clark, another door opened as Joker watched intently, ensuring that his feeds captured it all.

SUPERMAN: Clark lifted one arm to try to shield his eyes from the light, which had him quickly pressed against one of the walls. It left spots in his eyes, furthering the disorientation that already had him reeling, and the voices grew louder still. He alternated between muttering what sounded like pleas and practically shouting, “I thought it was the right thing! I thought-“ and so it went, until one of the doorways and the pulsing shadows grew and twisted until it looked like a body on the ground. He didn’t recognize it right away.

His Ma’s voice came to him again, disappointed and deafeningly loud in his ears. “You were supposed to help these people, Clark, and all you did was abandon them. You abandoned all of them.”

Another staggering step forward, past the shadow that wasn’t a shadow, finally let him see its face. Lois. Clark stumbled backward, falling the rest of the way through the door.

JOKER: And with Clark in place, Joker couldn't help but laugh over the intercom system as he watched the infallible 'Man of Steel' crumble into a crying little boy. And it had been all too easy. It had just taken a little watching. A little knowing and scheming. Not difficult at all, really. And now they'd see just what the Joker could put on. Funny, he had thought he'd been showing them all along, but apparently they had needed a refresher. So here he was.

When the lights came up, there was a simple set up. Large screen on the far end of the room, and two podiums evenly spaced apart featuring big red buttons. Option A and Option B. Either was sure to make a splash.

"Now that we're all warmed up and our mind is playing fuzzy tricks, how about we play a game, Superman? Whaddya say?" Leaning into the mic, his voice dropped into something dangerous. "Give you a hint: the only answer is yes."

SUPERMAN: Once he’d managed to tear his gaze from the shadowy figure of Lois on the ground, he squinted toward the podiums. He felt sick, like his very bones hurt. It took tremendous effort to pick himself up from the floor and more effort still to try to focus and figure out what was happening. He couldn’t, really.

Clark shook his head and closed his eyes, not wanting to see anything there. It all kept distracting him. Even with his eyes closed, though, there were still voices. “No...games.”

JOKER: "Ahhh, see it wasn't really a choice," Joker said before his grin turned mean. "That's so irritating, isn't it? When someone takes your choices away? When they decide for you?" He watched Clark through the screen he had set up before finally reaching the crux. "I, unlike some people, am a compassionate man. I know how hard it is to be told no even if the thing I want is natural as, say, a father and his daughter. So here's what I'll do for you, buddy. I'm gonna give you a big choice. So pay attention."

"Behind door number one is obvious. Superman is a man of the people, isn't he? So of course we should show him what he loves." Click click and the screen displayed the gathering of people standing in the center of Star City with their faces fixed on the large screen he had erected earlier that day to do the largest part of the broadcast. Every smaller screen connected to the cable he'd hijacked would also be showing his performance, but this one was the most substantial. "Here's Star City, Superman. Would you do anything you could to save it?"

SUPERMAN: As the screen turned on and he saw the small crowd, Clark shot a panicked look back over his shoulder, but the body he’d seen before was gone. Lois wasn’t there. Tricks...just tricks...He shook his head, trying again to force himself to focus, but he could only manage it for seconds at a time. In those few seconds, Joker’s words settled in. Lucy...Lucy, Lucy, this was about Lucy...

He walked sluggishly toward the screen like he meant to reach up and touch it. You were supposed to help these people, Clark. “...Always.”

JOKER: “Yes yes, always. Always the hero, aren’t you Superman?” Superman had a different modus operandi than Batman, and Joker was far more accustomed to the less emotional and more stoic responses he received from Bruce. With Clark, it was all new experience. Still, improv was one of the highest forms of comedy, wasn’t it? He learned on the fly.

“But a choice’s not much of a choice with only one option, right? You see, you have door number one, but what could be behind door number two?“

With that, the screen in front of Superman changed, and before the audience’s very eyes, an image of Harley came up. But not just Harley, because that wouldn’t be much of a reveal, would it? After all, Harley was always with Joker. “I’ve come to learn,” he said, more for the benefit of the onlookers than Clark Kent, “that Superman is really more of a family man than any of us could ever have guessed. So yes, he’ll save the city, but always? I guess we’ll see, because here we have my lovely Harley Quinn with Gazette journalist, Lois Lane, known attachée of Superman himself. Then we have Supergirl. And since this is a family affair we couldn’t leave out the kids. Lois Lane’s son, Jon, and Supergirl’s own little bundle of joy, joining us for her first appearance. As you can see, Harley’s strapped them up with high grade explosives. The button for Choice B will set them off. And Choice A? Choice A will set off a little present delivered by Joker’s hands from NOVA’s hearts: a nuclear bomb that’s been planted right under the city. You can only save one, Superman. The family you have left or the city that depends on you. Choose neither and they both blow.”

He paused, long and dramatic for effect, before leaning into whisper: “So... what’s it gonna be?”

SUPERMAN: Clark had only just really focused his eyes on the screen and the faces of the citizens when it changed. Joker’s words didn’t matter, they didn’t even really fully sink in. As Lois, Jon, Kara, and Eva came into view, he moved forward with heavy, sluggish steps and reached up toward the screen as though it might disappear like a mirage.

The Kryptonite was still in full effect, and whatever else had been in that had his heart and mind already racing. Clark looked back to the open doorway again. The flickering lights made him wince, and the sickening fear and dread he felt quickly conjured up new images with them. Lois, again, with lifeless eyes, holding onto Jon whose face he couldn’t see. A blonde figure with its back to him that could only be Kara was similarly motionless. The darkness that should have been only shadow was blood instead, rapidly spreading across the floor until it was nearly touching his feet.

He left his spot in front of the screen and stumbled back toward the bodies that weren’t really there to kneel by them. His hands caught only air when he reached for them and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He’d made so many promises. Protect the city. Protect his family. He’d sworn to Kara not two days before that no one would hurt her, Eva, or any of them. He’d sent them all out of the city to prevent it, even. Sent them to...this. To Joker and Harley.

“You’re not getting away with this,” he said after what felt like ages of kneeling there on the floor, fighting for a brief hold on his own mind again. He glanced around the room for a second door, anything that might lead him somewhere else. If he could just...get back to the city...

JOKER: Joker watched, utterly rapt, as Superman pawed at nothing and--dear God, was he crying? These emotional types. He shook his head, but the words spoken only made him bark out a laugh. "Ha! Oh Supes... I already have gotten away with it. And I think you're aware of it, too. Now, are you going to choose in a timely fashion... or should I start a countdown?"

SUPERMAN: Clark set his jaw, refusing to let himself look at the ground again. Nothing there. Nothing there. But the feed on the screen had been real. His family needed him. The city needed him. “I’m not playing your game, Joker.”

And so he kept telling himself as he moved away from the podiums and the horrible visual of Harley with the people he cared about most. When he found no new door, he threw himself against the wall instead. Again, and again he did it until he felt the ache of it run all down his arms and legs. The Kryptonite had left him weak enough that he couldn’t do more than that. He slammed a fist against it, pointlessly, and clenched his eyes closed again. So many people depending on him. If he stalled...if he stalled, maybe someone would figure it out.

JOKER: "Oh that's a shame. No one likes a spoilsport, Supes. But I'm a man who does love a good twist." The screen split into two, one side showing the city where people looked fearfully to the billboard or incited panic through panic themselves. The other showed Superman's family. Between them, a counter began, starting generously from 100 and counting down.

He seemed a bit too cognitive for Joker's liking. He hadn't been able to test the doses, after all. Fortunately, he had planned for that too.

The door on the far end of the room opened for the space of about two seconds, hidden by Superman beating against the wall. A telltale hiss was the only precedent to another dose of the gas.

"Now that you're good and doped up yet again, Superman, I think we'll try this again," the Joker said, leaning forward. The suspense was killing him. "Either you make a choice for me, or that timer gets to zero and both the city and your beloved Superbrats go Ka-Boom. Even the sweet little baby."

SUPERMAN: Clark looked only briefly at the screen again, long enough to see his son's face and Eva's. He didn't need to look at Lois. He knew the expression she wore. Determined. Probably angry. There was nothing in the world she hated more than feeling helpless, was there? But she wouldn't be able to get them out of this. Joker wasn't the type to hesitate, and if Harley was far gone enough to put even Eva in that room with them, then she was no solace. They'd kept her daughter safe, even if it had been apart from her, and this was the response.

The number started to count down and the first few seconds ticked horribly by before the gas deployed a second time. It was so much worse than the first one. The effect of the Kryptonite was crippling, but that was nothing compared to where his mind went. As Joker spoke, it was like the words willed those things into reality. Clark could hear the explosions and the screams, the dust from fallen buildings that weren't really there was choking. He could hear people calling for him, just like the voice that he'd followed to the power plant. Superman, save us!

But even those desperate cries were nothing to what he saw when he looked at the side of the screen again where his family waited. It was an unspeakable thing, the vision that he had. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears that the sound of it eclipsed everything else, and several precious seconds ticked by as he stood paralyzed by the things that he was seeing that weren't really there. They weren't there, but they would be. They would be if he didn't do something.

JOKER: The longer Superman stalled, the more exciting it caught. "The fear gas makes it hard to think, doesn't it Supes?" he asked gleefully. "But you're strong, aren't you? You'll have to push through it." His Harley girl had. Helped him gauge the dose, too. If she could do it, Superman could do it.

"You're losing time, pal. One or the other. Or both, if you're willing to go for maximum carnage. Never took you for the type but there's surprises everywhere, aren't there?"

SUPERMAN: On the other side of the split screen, he could see people moving away. Running? Running, waiting to be saved...If he didn’t, how many people would die? Clark closed his eyes against the screen, the room, Joker’s disembodied voice, and all he was greeted with was the sound of screaming again. The air felt like it was burning around him, and something (no, someone) clutched at his ankle in a desperate, panicked way.

When he opened his eyes again it was to the red glare of the timer, down to a minute. Eva was crying on the other half of the screen, her tiny face scrunched up and afraid. He could feel bile rise in his throat with a sickening burn. If he let them die- No sooner had it entered his mind than he saw it again, as horrifying as before. Lois said his name before the explosives were triggered, and it rang in his ears. Harley clapped her hands next to them, shrieking with glee.

The room came back into focus again and he found himself clutching the sides of the screen.

JOKER: "Tick tock, tick tock," Joker cut in at Clark's little meltdown. "This is all very touching, Superman, but I don't think you realize how serious I am. How about a little demonstration?"

He had anticipated, after all, that this might happen. That the Man of Steel may be paralyzed by his own fear and what Scary liked to call the Trolley Problem. Joker had thought of that and now he had a way to sweeten the pot. Or sour it. It was all the same to the clown, who simply wanted a bit of fun. Well, Harley would get her fireworks. He had rigged some for this twist, should he need it. "Everybody loves a good plot twist," he said before hitting a button on the control panel which would signal his boys to hit an even larger button within Star City.

Said button was attached to a detonator and that detonator was rigged to a number of fireworks and charges that were connected right to Liberty Bridge. "Watch the birdie, Superman," he said with a laugh as he slammed another button to abruptly change the screen from Star City and Superman's family to the bridge, where hundreds if not thousands of people were currently trying to get out. Silly silly. Didn't they know that Fate had a funny--frankly hilarious way--of getting what she wanted?

"Boom."

#starcevent #starcradioactive #starcplotdrop #starcadmin

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