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pastel-peach-writes · 4 years ago

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Season’s Chances | Katara x Reader

PLOT: Katara has always been your crush since she walked into the room. Everything about her drew you into her. So, what drew her into you? Well, nothing. Matter of fact, she didn’t even know you. You just had to introduce yourself to her, but how?

WARNINGS: Modern College Au!, Snarky Katara!, Unedited

A/N: This was originally supposed to be a headcanon, that’s why the writing feels a little different; so sorry for not posting! I’ve had an injury that didn’t allow me to sit for long periods of time. I started this before I got hurt, but had stopped so abruptly, I didn’t know where to continue. But I got it now!

You can’t remember when you started falling for Katara. Maybe it was the first day you laid eyes on her. Her long hair sat still on her back with two sections pulled from the front to form a small ponytail in the back and leaving two strands to frame her face.

She wore a blue cami dress with white flowers that had yellow centers, an off-white/cream cardigan, and beige ankle strapped wedges to match. Vanilla mixed with some fruity scent... maybe a bit of lavender fragrance brushed past your nose as she walked by.

“Whoa, who’s the babe?” One of your guy friends mumbled to you, watching Katara intensely. You shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re all freshmen here, genius.”

Hearing your conversation, Katara looked over her shoulder. Her hair moving with her as it moved from her face. Pearly whites and sparkling blue eyes. Was there a spotlight on her? Does anyone else see rose petals?

“Katara. My name’s Katara, and I would prefer it if you would not refer to me as a ‘babe’.” She did finger quotes. “I’m a woman, not an object. Thanks.” She proceeded to walk towards her destination.

“Oh, great. A feminist.” The boy mumbled. You hit him on the shoulder with your pen. “She just wanted to introduce herself. Rather be known with a name rather than her looks. What’s wrong with that?”

Unfortunately for your friend, mostly for you though, Katara rarely spoke to you at all. Not because of the situation, but because this college classroom was much bigger than a high school classroom. She sat on the opposite side of you by the farthest wall. Communication is hard when you’re at the ends of two parallel tables.

However it all changed when you saw her at the school’s library eating a blueberry muffin. Still wearing that same cardigan, but since it was late fall, she had a black faux leather skirt, a maroon tank tucked into said skirt, and cream socks that went up to her knees. There was no way the socks actually provided warmth. The material was so thin you could see her brown skin shine through.

Her hair was still in a half-up half down too, but instead of a ponytail, it was a quick bun.

Still glowing like before, she was looking off to the side and picking apart her muffin as she glanced out the window pane. You were going to go up there and talk to her too... but some boy came around. Dark hair, pale skin, red birthmark... burn mark? Must be her boyfriend.

“Of course she had a boyfriend. Why would a girl like that be single?” You muttered, watching as the two engaged. The older boy never sat down however. Just stood at the table, tapping his fingers on the surface as he talked. Sooner or later, a woman looking around his age in the same dark red aesthetic he was dressed in walked up and planted a kiss on his cheek. The pale pair said their goodbyes and walked away.

“Holy cow. She’s single?!” You whisper-exclaimed. Katara looked at your direction, sipping some of the not-so-hot chocolate from her to-go cup. You felt warmth on your cheeks as you backed away from the bookshelf you were peering from behind.

After that, you didn’t see Katara until your junior year of college. She must’ve gotten busy in the last two years. She didn’t show up to class, her sweet perfume didn’t fly past you as you coincidentally walked past her table, and you saw her two friends, but without her.

On the bright side... yeah, there’s no bright side. The girl were not-so-secretly crushing on seemed to disappear from your life. You knew you should’ve gotten her number when you had the chance.

“Hey, excuse me!” A voice huffed. You were walking around campus with your head low and hands in your pockets. You were listening to music too, so you didn’t really hear much of the noise around you. When you felt your shoulder hit another and fallen pages laid by your feet, you looked up.

And there she was. Her hair even longer than before, the same sweet smelling scent. Where’s her cream cardigan?

“Hey, are you alright? Did I bump into you too hard?” Katara said squatting down to collect her papers. “I apologize for that,” She resumes as she stands up to meet your eyes. “It’s my first time being on campus in a while... I had to go back home for a bit to help my sick grandmother.”

You finally had the moment to talk to Katara. To get her number and for her to finally know your name... but nothing. Your lips grew dry and your throat scratchy. Please... not to today. Please... any day but today!

Katara awkwardly laughed. Your blank stare to her was bone chilling. “Oh, well, h-here I am trauma dumping on a stranger.” You and her stared at each other once more. You begging for your throat to allow you to take something and Katara begging you to say something to save her from this awkwardness.

No response. She sighed and began to walk away. You turned on your heels to watch her leave. Come on, Y/n. You can’t let her go again! It’s fate. How many times to introduce yourself are you going to get?

“Y/n!”

“I’m sorry,” She turned to look back at you. Spotlight, rose petals. It was just like freshmen year again. “What?”

“Y/n.” You repeated, walking up to her. “My name is Y/n.”

“Oh,” she smiles. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n. I’m Katara.”

#katara x reader #atla fanfic #avatar the last air bender fanfic #Avatar The Last Airbender #katara fanfic #katara #pastel-peach-writes #gender-neutral terms #Gender nuetral reader #atla x reader #atla x you

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 4 years ago

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You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 6

Adore You

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.2k

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 @50svibes If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): The beginning of this is just a touch NSFW, but nothing explicit. Also, mentions of abuse and later abortion.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

AO3 link

Chapter 6 here we go!!!

Sunlight pooled into the room above the Blue Boar, warming the skin of the two bodies tangled up in the sheets upon the bed. It illuminated for Juliet all the places Ron had touched her the night before, the memory of it as electrifying and sensual as the moment itself. She stirred to look up at his sleeping face, goosebumps erupting over her as she recalled the number of times she’d whined his name as he drew climax after climax out of her. It made her squirm against him now from her spot tucked into his side. No one had ever made love to her like that before, and she found herself hungry for more already.

To steady herself, she listened to his heart, counting the beats coming steady and strong. It didn’t help quell the ache between her thighs because she just remembered bracing herself against that firm chest as she straddled and rode him. Face growing warm with all the images of their tryst, she shifted again. This time, enough to wake him.

“Morning,” he said, voice raspy with sleep. “‘M surprised you’re up. Must not have done my job right.”

“Believe me, you did more than enough,” she returned, pressing her lips to his chest, right beside the faint marks from her fingers. Her own voice was a bit hoarse as well, but she had used it quite a bit during the evening.

“I see,” he smirked. “You want more then.”

Very few people could make Juliet Fletcher blush, but that made her cheeks burn. He was right after all. Even with everything they had done, she was eager to have him again. And again and again and again…

“Shut up,” she grumbled.

“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Tell me what you’d rather I do with my mouth.”

She giggled at that, biting her lip as she considered his offer. “I want it on mine.”

True to his word, he said nothing, but pulled her close for a deep, heated kiss. Their lips were still slightly swollen from the night before, but it didn’t stop them. There was no rush this morning, just gentle exploration, soft moans, and slow hands.

As his mouth trailed from her jawline to her collarbone, he stopped, something on her skin standing out to him - something he hadn’t noticed in the night. A circular, red scar where her collarbone met her shoulder. He gently touched it with his index finger.

“Birthmark?” he guessed, but something in his gut told him he was wrong.

She shook her head. “Scar. The cigar was a pretty typical threat for Dad, but he made good on it once when I got carried away with back chat. And Billy wasn’t around.”

His face shifted just slightly when his jaw stiffened and his mouth turned down. “How old were you?”

“Ten,” she told him. “I don’t even remember what I said or why we were fighting. But I remember the pain, that’s for sure.”

He met her gaze. “You’re awfully casual about something like that.”

“It was so long ago,” she returned with half a shrug. “Honestly, I forget it’s there most of the time. And he’s gone now.”

The way she averted her eyes told him it bothered her more than she was letting on, but he didn’t pry. Instead, he pressed his lips to the scar in a display of tenderness that nearly took her breath away. It did not erase what her father had done, but it felt more healed than it ever had before.

After their morning round, they decided they needed food or they’d never be able to keep this up. So they headed downstairs.

Juliet hummed through most of breakfast, which was a stroke to Ron’s ego, but he didn’t mention it. He just watched her pop a bit of food into her mouth and do her little in-seat dance that was fucking precious in his opinion and appreciated that he was with her. It seemed odd that the last time they’d had breakfast, they were perfect strangers. Just a few weeks later, they knew each other...well, intimately.

“Why the book?” he asked suddenly.

She looked at him mid-bite into some toast. “Hm?”

“Why did the book make you kiss me?” he said.

“It really wasn’t the book to be perfectly honest,” she said, setting the toast back on her plate. “It was what you did to get it.”

He cocked his head to the side questioningly as he took a sip of his coffee.

“The whole making up multiple bidders, and choosing Humphrey Bogart as the winning name,” she explained. “And then how much you paid for it. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

“No way,” he returned. “Not even when you were engaged?”

She shook her head. “Arthur was...a very self-centered man. He wasn’t unkind, but he had a role he wanted me to fulfill. And I was expected to do it without him putting in any effort to keep me there. I think...he always thought I was lucky to have him. So he never took on any grand gestures.”

“I’d hardly call bidding on your book a grand gesture,” he replied, unsure what else to say to that. Putting effort into someone you liked? Wasn’t that setting the bar a little low? That felt like the bare minimum. He had always thought of love as two people sort of earning each other, and continuing to prove that they cared.

“It was to me,” she said, her voice soft and just a smidge quieter than usual. Which told him she was really touched by what he’d done. It didn’t surprise him since apparently the only man who had never let her down was her brother. “Thank you.”

“Well, don’t get too mushy, I mostly did it so I can make fun of you,” he said, lightening the mood.

She snorted. “You’ll get loads of material from that, trust me.”

“You’re not afraid of what I’ll find?” he asked.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she shot back, a determined gleam in her eye.

For a moment, he believed her. She did seem to put almost her whole self out there for the world to see, so ready to take a risk. With the father she had and the heartbreak she’d endured, it would have been especially understandable for her to be afraid of everything and everyone. But she took the world head on, and had even opened herself up to him, without once asking him for any sort of promise for a future. She was so remarkable to him, he just sat back and admired her. Until she froze and the color drained from her face.

“Jules?”

She didn’t answer him, she only stared at a spot on the table, eyes fixed on something in the middle. He followed her gaze and saw a small spider, maybe a couple centimeters long, creeping across the wood.

“Juliet?”

“Fucking shit!” she cried, leaping from her seat. The chair scraped against the floor before toppling onto its side as she scampered away, pressing her body into the wall on the other side of the pub. “Ron, you have to kill it!”

He gaped at her, utterly astounded. “Are you serious?”

Her ghost-like complexion told him she was, but she nodded her head anyway, eyes wide with paralyzing fear.

“Spiders?” he questioned. “That’s what gets you?”

“They’re creepy!” she insisted. “It’s perfectly normal to be -”

“It’s the size of a -”

“I DON’T GIVE A GOOD GODDAMN HOW BIG IT IS, RON, JUST KILL THE BLOODY THING!”

Resisting the urge to laugh, he picked up a napkin and slapped it down over the spider, wiping it away before balling it up and walking it over to a trash bin to dispose of the remains. When the coast was clear, he approached her and she shuddered.

“Ugh, I still feel it on me,” she said.

“It never touched you,” he reminded her.

She scowled. “Look at my face.”

“I am looking at your face.”

“Does it look like I want to be sassed?”

“It does not.”

“Then keep your little opinions to yourself.”

“Not an opinion,” he returned. “It really didn’t touch you.”

“What did I just say?” she shot back.

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said.

“Okay, and?”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just finish breakfast.”

“No way!” she cried. “I’m not going back over there, what if there are more of them?”

“There aren’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually, I was just there.”

“Can’t we just leave?” she asked.

“Juliet, I promise if there are any more spiders, I will kill them just as swiftly and mercilessly as this one,” he said. “Let’s finish our meal.”

She eyed him skeptically, as if at any moment he would open up his jacket to reveal a secret stash of spiders just waiting to assault her, but he only held out his hand. Reluctantly, she took it and allowed him to lead her back to the table. He resumed his seat right away, but she inspected hers first. Satisfied there were no more spiders, she sat.

He sipped his coffee. “So, is it just spiders or all bugs?”

“Spiders, mostly,” she answered. “Other bugs I can take care of myself.”

“Why spiders, then?”

“It’s just a thing,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t explain it.”

He could have argued there was a lot about her that couldn’t be explained, but decided against pointing that out. He just took another sip of coffee. She reached for her fork.

“Juliet, wait!” he said urgently. “I think I see another one!”

She screamed and hurled the fork away from her. It soared over to the adjacent table and clattered onto it before skidding to a stop. She looked over at it, chest heaving with her frightened breaths. Incidentally, it was free of any creatures. She glowered at Ron and the infuriating smirk on his face.

“That’s not funny,” she grumbled.

“It’s a little funny,” he returned.

“I loathe you right now.”

“I can live with that.”

She snatched his fork from in front of him and used it instead. “You’re a bully.”

“Eat your eggs,” he replied.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she retorted.

He shot her a steely look, and she stuck her tongue out at him before taking a bite of her eggs. She chewed and swallowed.

“That’s a good dad look you’ve got there,” she said. “D’you use it on your subordinates?”

“Dad look?” he questioned.

“Y’know, the stern look,” she said. “You pull it off well.”

“You seeing that as paternal is only a little bit disturbing,” he replied.

“That’s fair,” she conceded. “I didn’t have the best example.”

“I’d say you probably had one of the worst,” he said.

“Wouldn’t fight you there.”

“To answer your question, if my men disappoint me, I make it known, in whatever way the situation calls for,” he said.

“That’s...vague,” she said.

He only shrugged again before he changed the subject. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I’m actually taking the train to Trowbridge to interview the defense attorney for the Lee case,” she said. “I should be back by this evening, though.”

“You want some company?” he offered. “We don’t have any training going on today.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“Sure,” he said. “Despite your attitude, I kinda like spending time with you.”

“Flattering,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I actually...would love that. Thank you.”

Once again, something so basic was - to her - going above and beyond. It was clear to him that Juliet had become accustomed to a certain level of interest in her, and it was low. He hoped to prove otherwise.

***

Trowbridge was not much bigger than Aldbourne, there was just more going on since it was the capital of the county. Juliet was meeting the defense attorney at his office, and she confessed to Ron she was a bit nervous about the interview. He wasn’t an attorney that worked for the government, he was in private practice. His name was Harvey Cooper, and when Juliet had done some background on him, she discovered he was well-known for cases like the Lee case. He had actually sought out Meredith Fisher when the police report came through about Peggy’s body. There was a lot that could go wrong, but Ron reminded her that there was also a lot that could go well.

They arrived at the office, where they were greeted by a secretary. Harvey emerged from his office with a smile that would have been more appropriate for a salesman than a defense attorney for a murder case. He shook Juliet’s hand, accepted without question that Ron was her photographer, and took them back to his office. He gave a brief, cheerful tour of the place, explaining that he’d done some updating, but was limited because of the war. Juliet and Ron exchanged a surprised look at the man’s chipper disposition.

“Well, Miss Fletcher, I must say I’m surprised you’re working this story,” Harvey said as they all took seats in his office, Juliet and Ron on one of the desk, and Harvey on the other. “I read some past issues of the London Pursuit, and saw you were an entertainment writer.”

“Yes,” she said gracefully. “I got a bit of a promotion, you see, with the majority of the men otherwise occupied.”

“Sure, sure,” Harvey replied. “Of course, in my line of work, I’m more than aware of what women are capable of.”

Ron watched Juliet’s careful disguise of her distaste to that remark. She forced a smile and tucked her hair behind her ear, before retrieving her notepad and pencil from her bag.

“Certainly,” she said. “Which brings me to the point at hand. I’ve spoken to the prosecution about Meredith Fisher’s case, and the evidence is really strong. How do you plan to plead?”

“Not guilty,” Harvey answered simply.

“On what grounds?” she asked, unsurprised by that answer.

“Institutional failure,” he said.

That took her aback. She blinked for a moment and sat back in her seat. “Institutional failure?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Operation Pied Piper was under prepared and under planned. According to my research, no one vetted any of the families who agreed to take in children. If you signed up, you were approved, no questions asked.”

Juliet’s brow furrowed. “While that’s certainly interesting, it doesn’t absolve Mrs. Fisher of responsibility for her individual actions. No other unvetted family has done this.”

“But they could have,” he insisted. “I believe Mrs. Fisher is being made into a scapegoat for something that could have reasonably happened to any number of the children who were part of the program.”

She stared at him for a long moment, and Ron watched her. He could see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. Ron didn’t quite understand it either - it was a flimsy argument.

“Are you...are you taking the piss?” she questioned.

“Not in the slightest,” Harvey said.

“Mr. Cooper, that argument is generally only used in civil cases for things like job termination,” she said. “This is murder. And it didn’t happen to any of the other children. Mrs. Fisher isn’t a stand in for something that’s been happening nationwide, this is a single instance.”

“But, if the committee in Parliament had done its job, Peggy Lee would never have gone to the Fisher home,” he said.

“Why?” Juliet pressed. “Does Mrs. Fisher have a record of violence?”

“No, but one interview could have told them that she had no children of her own,” he said. “They never could conceive - a naturally devastating thing for a woman. Who would trust her with a child after discovering that?”

She froze, and Ron watched something flash behind her eyes. A storm was brewing inside her, a hellish anger at the implication there. He didn’t agree with what Harvey was saying either, but that was just the sort of comment that set Juliet off.

“Your entire argument is childless women being unhinged simply because they are childless,” she said, and there was a strain on her voice to keep it level. “There are plenty of women who cannot have children who do not go around murdering other people’s, myself included. Your head is up your ass if you think this will be an acceptable defense in a court of law!”

It took Ron a moment to fully absorb what she had just admitted. He wondered for a fleeting second if Juliet was bluffing, but she was too ethical. In situations like this, she wouldn’t lie - not about something so serious. He also wondered if it was something he could ask her about, but that was a conversation for later.

“Any doctor would diagnose her as unstable,” Harvey said, face darkening. “And I don’t appreciate your tone, Miss Fletcher.”

“I don’t appreciate your ignorance, Mr. Cooper,” she shot back. “She wasn’t diagnosed as anything except woman, and that was by you, not a doctor.”

“Hold on -”

“So if I - I dunno - leapt over this desk and strangled you,” she cut across him, and Ron held back a laugh. “You would reasonably expect another attorney to argue that it’s the responsibility of the London Pursuit because they should have known, say, that my ex-fiancée was an attorney therefore I’m more likely to kill one? Because scorned women are known to be more furious?”

“That’s not the same.”

“It’s exactly the same, only in your case, worse,” she snapped. “A child is dead, and you are making a mockery of the fight for justice.”

“I’m doing my job -”

“Your job should entail getting Mrs. Fisher evaluated by a doctor and arguing down her sentence based on her mental capacity,” she returned. “Instead, you are reducing her to a monster because she is unable to give birth.”

“I’m not -”

“Even if it were true - which it isn't,” she interrupted him again. “It would still be her own fault for putting her hands on a child!”

Harvey slammed his hands down on his desk, which prompted Ron to get to his feet, but Juliet didn’t even flinch. She stared that lawyer down as if they were in the courtroom already and she was the cross examiner. She was so unafraid it was almost difficult to believe that just hours ago a little spider had sent her running across the room.

“Miss Fletcher,” Harvey said levelly, casting a sideways glance at Ron. “You clearly came into this interview with your mind made up about my client and this case. I must ask you to leave.”

She stood up. “You’re right, I did come in here with my mind made up,” she said. “But that’s because I’ve got the facts. Unlike you, Mr. Cooper, I do not rely on drollery to do my job.”

“That’s a bold statement coming from a woman -”

“Do not ever reduce me to my sex, Mr. Cooper,” she snapped. “Yours certainly will not protect you from being intentionally stripped of your dignity.”

With that, she turned on her heel and swept out of the office. Harvey stood up. He went around his desk and started after her.

“Hold on, what does that mean?!” he called.

Ron intercepted him at the doorway, stopping Harvey with a hand to the chest.

“No,” Ron said simply, with a warning look. It went without saying that Ron had about fifty pounds on Harvey, so if he followed them out, there would be consequences. When that was well understood, Ron went after Juliet.

She was already outside by the time he caught up, and she was waiting for him. The wind blew her hair, and he was briefly struck by how attractive she looked. He was already aroused by how she did in the interview. When he wasn’t on the receiving end of her ranting, it really was something. It was something when he was, but ultimately more enjoyable when it was directed at someone else. Because he could just sit back to watch her go and admire her.

“Well done back there,” he said.

“What an absolute wanker,” she said. “Institutional failure, what a fucking joke. And how insulting for Mrs. Fisher. Everyone deserves a lawyer who takes them seriously. And he clearly doesn’t.”

He only nodded in agreement. “What did you mean by the dignity stripping comment?”

“I can’t print anything about this until the trial happens, but believe me, that conversation will be included in the article,” she said. “I’m not normally one to get set on taking someone down, but if he seeks cases like this out just to pull stunts like that, the public should be aware.”

Her face was red with frustration and her pace had quickened. Luckily, Ron had no trouble keeping up since his strides were longer than hers. His own heart was racing, but mostly out of his excitement about her. When there was a break in the buildings, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into the alleyway, pinning her against the wall. He stifled her yelp of surprise with a searing kiss. He wanted to show her how much he felt for her. She was smart, passionate, and annoyingly ethical, but he adored her. Seeing her in action only reinforced just how much.

She moaned into his mouth before they broke apart for air, but clung to his jacket so he wouldn’t get too far away. Her eyes took a moment to re-focus on him after the dizzying intensity of his kiss.

“You’re incredible,” he breathed.

She searched his face for something behind his words, but found him genuine. “Thank you.”

She bit her lip as she looked him up and down, that hunger from the morning returning to her. She craved him again, and when he smirked she knew he was aware of the effect he had.

“God, what’s wrong with me?” she sighed, shaking her head.

“Plenty, but I really like you anyway,” he returned, and she beamed. “You wanna get back to Aldbourne?”

She nodded eagerly. “God, yes.”

He turned to get onto the street again, but she pulled him back for another kiss, this one just a little longer than the last.

It was on the train back to Aldbourne that he decided to inquire about what he heard her say in Harvey’s office. Her head rested on his shoulder as the countryside whizzed by, slowly disappearing as the sun sank behind the horizon. He looked at the yellow glow on her face and couldn’t help himself.

“You really can’t have children?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Oh, crikey, I almost forgot I mentioned that.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if -”

“No, it’s quite alright,” she assured him as she sat up. “We are sleeping together, so you’ve got a right to know.” She paused and looked down at her lap before continuing. “I was pregnant once. By a man I’d been seeing only a few weeks. But I was nineteen years old and terrified of what life would be like with a child I didn’t really want.” She fiddled with the handles of her bag. “So I made the decision to terminate. Only, something went wrong, and I was told because of the mistake, I’d be unable to have children. That’s the long and short of it.”

The confession should have been shocking, but he found himself remarkably indifferent. He wanted to know more about it, but the act itself did not bother him in the slightest.

“Did you tell the father?” he wondered.

She shook her head. “No. I’d made up my mind and I didn’t want him to try and persuade me to change it.”

“So you went alone?” he asked.

“No, Billy took me,” she told him. “No questions asked. He was the only one who understood.”

“Understood?”

“I wasn’t ready for marriage or a child,” she explained. “I had so much more I wanted to do with my life.” She met his gaze. “And I’ve done it.”

“So, no regrets, then?” he questioned hesitantly.

She pondered that, glancing out the window before looking back at his face. “Not really, no. I’m not suited for motherhood, anyway.” She bit her lip. “Is that...is that a problem?”

Honestly, he had not thought much about the future, especially since the war started. It was dangerous to hope. Juliet had awakened some of that in him - some glimmer of faith that he could go to war and come back to her. But children? He had never thought that far ahead, so life without them didn’t feel like a disappointment. He just wanted her.

“No, not at all,” he replied.

She visibly relaxed at that, letting out a low breath before easing herself back into his side. Before she got there, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and made her look at him once more.

“And by the way, we’re more than just sleeping together,” he said, and he kissed her smile.

She settled against him and closed her eyes. He draped his arm around her shoulders. They were content.

#ron speirs #band of brothers #easy company #hbo war #juliet fletcher #roliet #you better you better you bet series #ron speirs x ofc #band of brothers fic #band of brothers ofc

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modern-vellichor · 5 years ago

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Grief, is a Beautiful Thing

Stage One; Denial

Warnings: Grief!! Mentions of death, suicide. Loss of a major character. Battles with depression, silent tears, heart and gut wrenching sadness, indirect and very minor smut just to keep you on your toes.

Prologue || Series Masterlist

Denial; refusal to acknowledge an unacceptable truth or emotion or to admit it into consciousness, used as a defense mechanism.

You acted fine, you smiled and went along like nothing happened, like Steve would just walk around the corner and kiss your forehead, just like old times.

You took his place at the head of the table for a while, hell, you took over the whole compound. You were planning missions, doing research, organising accommodation and transport, planning classic Stark celebration parties.

Bucky saw through your act, of course he did. Sam did too, they were your best friends after all.

Your room was directly on top of Bucky's, down the hall from Sam's. When they walked by your door late at night, sometimes they would hear sniffling, little secret whimpers and whines. They never said anything.

You threw yourself into not only your work, but replacing your family. You treated Peter like a younger brother, and Morgan like she was your own. Bucky and Sam would watch as you played with Morgan, helping her with homework, checking on Pepper.

Eventually, the whimpers morphed into hushed whispers.

You spoke to the moon.

Bucky could remember Steve telling him that one morning. Every night you turned to the moon and whispered a little 'goodnight', and if you were angry, or sad, you would beg her to take your problems away.

"He's gonna come back, I know he is", Bucky had his ear pressed against your door. "He's a good man, he wouldn't just leave us like that, not me, especially not Bucky"

He smiled, it was sad and small and it didn't reach his eyes.

Nightly you would talk to her, the lady in the sky, glowing bright and bringing you peace. There she was, all the time, never leaving you. You started to go numb, your body shutting down, your brain struggling to cope. You fell. And Bucky was there to catch you.

Barnes was away on a mission, on that you had organised, you completely forgot. You were lost in a state of doubt and self pity you didn't even hear your door click open. You didn't register the light spilling into your room from the hallway, or the thud of thick combat boots being chucked onto the floor. You didn't flinch when the mattress dipped next to you, only did your eyelids flutter when a cool, metal arm was thrown over your waist.

"Hey, Buck", you sighed, eyes closed.

"What's wrong?"

What's Wrong. He asked that at least once a day. Once a day he asked a question who's answer was so blatantly obvious, but you never told the truth.

Never once did you utter, 'the love of my life left me for another woman, or, 'l lost my mentor and father figure because I wasn't smart enough, not even, 'my best friend sacrificed herself to save me and half the fucking planet'.

No, you always just smiled, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, his back, his arm -never his hand- and whispering, "Nothing, Buck, I'm fine"

He never argued either, just smiling back, pain and sad, but a smile nonetheless. He never pressed further, he never asked if you needed help, he was just there. He was a failsafe, he was always there, just in case you needed him. Right now, you did, but you were in Denial.

So he pulled you closer to himself, wrapping the duvet around the both of you. His breath fanned over the bare skin of your shoulder, his fingers traced absentminded circles on the soft flesh of your hip, his eyes fluttered closed and his heart rate slowed. You waited for a while, feeling him. Feeling his steady breath and his loose grip and his slow heartbeat, just like you used to with Steve.

He was so much like Steve, in so many ways, but at the same time he was do wildly different. You thought it was beautiful, poetic. How America's Golden Boy, the model citizen, the good guy, protagonist, could be best friends with James Barnes, an army vet who couldn't give two shits even if he tried. You thought it was funny, you idolised their friendship.

"I'm sorry he left you", you whispered, voice cracking as you let the veil slip.

Tears rolled steadily down the side of your face, over the bridge of your nose, pooling on your pillow. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Bucky didn't hear you, didn't feel you, he was fast asleep, somewhere far away, with Steve, happy, you hope.

"I could have stopped him. I know "I could have stopped him. I know I could have, its okay, 'll get him back", you promised your sleeping friend.

With the denial and the numbness, and the constant work, came the forgetfulness.

You were in shock, it was normal. It was always small, forgetting your keys, or to eat breakfast, but it still made Bucky worry. You were coming apart at the seams, spilling guts and your shattered heart onto the floor by his feet, and he had to pick you up, and sew you back together. You just wouldn't let him.

Often, too often, he would catch you doing something you and Steve used to do together.

You would be reading a book, mind far away, and your spare hand would reach out for him. The look on your face was pain and regret and anger all in one, tears pricking your eyes as you recoiled your now balled up fist.

On the jet, you would reach out for reassurance, before and after a mission, and he would be gone.

You reached out for him, his wife frame squashed into the seat next to yours. You lifted your chin to admire him, in all his blood and mud caked glory, you smiled, eyes bright and glistening, cheeks blushing as he kissed the tip of your nose.

One of your hands reached down and interlaced fingers with his, your other wrapped itself around his arm. You leaned down, bead going slack against his shoulder. He let out a breathy laugh, a lovely laugh that ignited a fire in your belly. He ran a hand over your hair, brushing dried dirt and coppery blood from your cheek.

"You did so well, baby", he whispered. "You're incredible, you know that", his words were mumbled into your hair between kisses. You giggled, you learned from the best, and you made sure he knew it.

Your hand was tucked into your chest, the image of Steve in the seat next to yours all too fresh in your mind. The jet landed with a soft thud, and you ran through the compound to your room, not even bothering to grab your bag on the way in.

Bucky spent hours trying to coax you out of your room, listening to the soft sniffles and quiet sobs.

"Y/N, doll", he begged, pleaded, "please, let me in"

He was delighted to hear the soft bad of bare feet and the clicking of your lock. He shoved his way into your room, assertive and gentle, wrapping you in a hug and kicking the door shut behind him.

It was moments like these that brought tears to your eyes. It was the domesticity of it all, the soft touched, the way he drew circles on your lower back, ran a hand through your hair. It was the way he held you until you slept, whispering sweet reassurance into your hair, soft kisses to your forehead as you wept.

The next morning you called him into your office, Sam making a joke as he walked away.

"I have a mission for you, Barnes"

"Yes, ma'am", he responded, jokingly.

"Surveillance in Budapest, drug lord, Lloyd Montgomery", you stated. You never were good at briefings, not like Steve. "two weeks stay, you're leaving tomorrow morning."

He chuckled at your expression, brows furrowed, lips pulled into a frown. "Who am I bringing? Sam?"

"No, me"

The motel room was damp and dingy, mould grew in the corners of the ceiling, the mattresses were lumpy, the curtains damp.

You rolled over uncomfortably, chasing the sweet relief of sleep that wouldn't come. Day three had trickled by ever so slowly, you should've sent Sam on this one.

You rolled over, maybe Bucky was awake. You were met by a pair of startlingly blue eyes and a mischievous grin.

"Hello, doll", he smiled.

"morning, sergeant"

"What do you want?"

You stopped, thinking for a moment. You sat up against the headboard, Bucky switching on a light and mimicking your actions.

"A story", you finally whispered, smiling. You loved Bucky's stories, tales from before the war. Adventures, memories, stories of hard liquor and pretty girls and sometimes both.

"about what, doll?"

"A girl", you loved Bucky, he was always so soft when it came to his women. He described them like the finest piece of artwork he had ever seen, like they were an otherworldly being not worthy of his touch, like he was blessed just to be acknowledged by them.

"Her name was Rosalind"

You smiled, "Pretty name, who was she?"

"My first real crush. She was a waitress at the cafe my Ma took us to on a Sunday. I used to sneak in there after school just to catch a glimpse of her", he smiled, reminiscing.

You and Bucky both loved how vivid his memory could be sometimes, even after the brainwashing. He could describe some of his core memories like they were yesterday, others were a little fuzzy.

"She was gorgeous, most beautiful broad in Brooklyn. She had this red hair, real curly, stopped just below her shoulders. Real pale skin, too, freckles everywhere, and I mean everywhere"

You laughed at the little comment, waiting for him to continue.

"She wore these real thick glasses, right on the tip of her nose, she had the thickest Brooklyn accent I've ever heard, too. And these gorgeous brown eyes, they looked like they were just holes, like never ending or something, portals, I dont know", you laughed again, this time he joined you.

"Anyway, one day she caught me staring, wrote her address on my napkin. I showed up at her door that evening, told Ma I was staying with Steve. She had this birthmark, on her back. It started at the apex of her thigh and ended just above her hip, she called me Buckaroo when she said goodnight. Gave me a kiss, right on the tip of my nose and said, "See you tomorrow, Buckaroo""

You smiled, a pang of jealousy settling in your stomach, but you brushed it off. "She sounds real pretty, Buck"

"Oh she was, nice too, polite and friendly, real smart, kinda like you", you blushed at the compliment.

Bucky said a quick goodnight, turning off the light and falling asleep, you following after.

The lights were low. Music hummed softly, a hand wrapped in yours. Your eyes trailed up the arm, to find Bucky at the end of it, smiling down at you. He placed a quick kiss on your lips, "c'mon, pup"

He pulled you through the crowd, away from the party, a dress danced around your heel clad ankles as you jogged to keep up with him. He pulled you into an elevator, sporting that signature mischievous grin of his.

Next thing you know you were tangled under the sheets, Bucky on top of you placing soft kisses down your neck, sucking softly on your pulse spot.

"You're so beautiful, doll", he hummed, "so, so beautiful, all for me"

A thin layer of sweat was forming on your skin, Bucky still covering you with sweet kisses as one hand tangled in your hair, the other working it's way between your legs.

Your name fell off his lips like a mantra, a litany, a prayer for redemption, "Y/N, Y/N", over and over again like it was addictive.

"Y/N", Bucky shook you awake, you had broken out in a cold sweat. He wrapped his arms around your shaking frame, "Its okay, doll, it was just a dream. You're alright, I'm right here, doll, right here".

#captain america x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x you #marvel fic

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lilacs-with-lavender · 4 years ago

Text

Slip Away Pt. 2

Kaz Brekker x Inej Ghafa

Read Pt. 1 here! Or read on Ao3 here!

Summary:

After a long year of putting slaver ships at the bottom of the ocean, Captain Inej Ghafa docks in Ketterdam for the first time in a long while. She tells herself she’s come back to take on some new crew, maybe visit a few old friends. But if Inej is being honest with herself Jesper’s last few letters have had her worrying about a certain bastard of the barrel, one she hasn’t heard from in months. One who’s rasping voice and light touches have haunted her dreams since she left.

WC: 2, 557

Warnings: nightmares, some heated touching, & lots of feels

Kaz was drowning, again. The water that filled his mouth tasted like sweet rotting death and he clawed at his throat. Desperate to be rid of it, to be free of the darkness that held him beneath the surface. He could never escape, it dragged him deeper and deeper until he could no longer thrash, he just opened his mouth in a silent scream.

His last thoughts full of all he hadn’t done. Ketterdam’s king barrel boss was nothing in the face of what made him truly happy. Inej.

Her name was like a prayer gone unanswered within him, Inej who he wouldn’t let himself have. Inej who deserved better then him. Inej who had told him once when she thought he couldn’t hear that she loved him.

Inej. Inej. Inej.

His breathing grew erratic and all of a sudden the blackness of the dream was fading and he was blinking in the sunlight. Kaz’s brows knit in confusion, why wake from one nightmare only to come to in another dream? It couldn’t be anything other than a dream to wake up nose to nose with the one lovely face he’d been thinking of just moments before.

But as the fuzziness of sleep faded Kaz started to notice the little things that no dream could capture correctly. Her hair had come down around her face, the end of that signature braid hanging over her waist and there was a birthmark above her collarbone that he liked to kiss.

And then her chest rose, and fell, and rose again. Kaz froze. Unable to tear his eyes away as her dark brows crinkled and moved, oil black lashes fluttering as she made a soft noise of contentment. He couldn't comprehend it, Inej, in Ketterdam, in his bed.

Before he act on the instinct to escape and get dressed however she opened her eyes fully, warm brown gaze dragging over his features carefully. It felt like a phantom touch, and when he couldn’t help himself any longer Kaz reached for her and with one slender finger, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She was really there. Sleepy and barefoot in his bed.

“Inej…”

She reached out a finger to smooth the divot that had formed between his brows and Kaz shivered. Her touch was like an electric current, terrifying yet exciting, and he wanted- saints he wanted more of it. But he couldn’t for the life of him remember…

“You asked me to stay.”

He blinked, and she saw the confusion on his face, took it as a sign that he’d made a mistake last night and went to get out of bed. Kaz stopped her quickly, instinctively panicking at the thought of being without her again.

Gulping nervously at the look she gave him when she settled back into bed Kaz tried to appear emotionless. “Did I… um did I say anything else?”

Inej grinned then, slow and cat-like so that he was both warmed by the sight and slightly terrified. “You said you missed me Kaz.”

He couldn’t help it, he spluttered, “I-I what?”

She sat up so that they were close once more and smiled at him again, radiant and backlit with golden light so that she looked like some ethereal goddess come to torture him or save him. He couldn’t decide which it was.

“You said you missed me,” she leaned in conspiratorially as if to whisper some great secret, “and I think you might have meant it.”

When she leaned back Kaz couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his face, enjoying the way her dark eyes widened at the sight of it. Before he could come up with a witty retort to divert attention away from just how much he’d missed her, however, Inej spoke more firmly. “And I suppose you have a perfectly good reason for refusing to see Jes and Wylan? Or getting so drunk I find you collapsed at your desk?”

Kaz winced, the last few months had been a blur of bills and whiskey. He rarely stayed sober for more than a day, but even with a drink or two he could still work, the alcohol was just to keep distracting thoughts at bay. Distracting thoughts about Inej at bay.

Yet here she was in his bed, lecturing him like the good old days, and where was he? Grinning like an idiot at the sight of her, arms crossed and braid loose against her back frowning at him. “Kaz!”

He snapped out of it, pretending he had not just been distracted by the way her hair glowed different shades of brown in the sun. “I was trying to forget.”

Her arms dropped to her side and Inej sighed, “How many times are we going to talk about this Kaz, there’s nothing wrong with thinking about things that make you happy.”

He knew what she was implying, and she was right, nothing made him happier than thoughts of her. Her smile, her hair, her laugh. But he frowned all the same, no reason to let Inej know that such thoughts had him wishing he could sail away with her and leave Ketterdam behind. Those wild day dreams had become an almost daily occurrence and it was starting to scare him, his seventeen year old self had once thought that Ketterdam needed him as much as he needed the unforgiving city.

But now? With the Dregs putting more and more indenture hoarding establishments like the Menagerie out of business and offering those on the streets opportunities for good work, he found himself yearning for something other than the long weeks of paperwork and intimidation tactics. Dirtyhands felt like a figurehead long forgotten and Kaz finally wanted something he could have. Frankly it terrified him.

“Do you ever think about what makes you happy at sea Wraith?”

It was a stupid question, a doubt he shouldn’t have let himself voice, but it was early and she was finally here with him, making him soft. She took a while to answer, and he kept his eyes fixed on the rumpled sheets that stretched between them until she answered. “I try not to,” she breathed out the next words in a frustrated huff, “thoughts of you are distracting.”

Kaz Brekker would be lying if that particular admission didn’t make his shriveled up heart beat out of his chest. Leave it to Inej to be completely honest. He felt a warm hand trailing up his arm then, and tracked its progress from his wrist to the Dregs tattoo. Even her hands enthralled him, so delicate, and yet he’d seen her use them to grip daggers and slit throats.

And because he was a sick son of a bitch, that was the thought that had desire coursing through him. Before she could say anything else he let that desire spur him on, making the first move for once as his hand slid up her shoulder to cup her neck. The sensation of her skin against his was smooth and warm, nothing like the repulsive cold and wet he’d come to fear for so long.

In fact he relished the tremor he felt run through her as his fingers caressed her jaw, they both knew it was unusual for him to initiate anything this intimate, so he appreciated the way she relaxed into his touch. Letting him know she was alright, that this was alright.

“Do I make you happy Inej?”

His other hand went to the base of her braid, slipping it from the hair tie and watching as she closed her eyes, the dark waves fanning out around her shoulders in a way that convinced Kaz once more that Inej Ghafa was magic. She opened her eyes when his hand fit to the curve of her waist, her shirt riding up slightly as she spoke, her voice breathless, “You could.”

His hands stopped. He felt himself approaching the edge of the cliff again, the abyss waiting for him below full of possibilities and terrifying unknown variables. But also… Inej. He watched as the woman in front of him waited with eyes closed probably expecting, predicting, that now was when he left her. Pulled his gloves back on and turned away from her, from a future away from the Dregs.

Inej deserved better. He could try and be better, for her.

Kaz let his hands drop to the bed, watching as she let out a breath, never disappointed, always waiting for him. Before Inej could open her eyes he kissed her. Hard.

Her mouth responded to his instantly, her arms held tightly at her side until his hand came to cup her jaw, and she twined both around his neck. Their foreheads were touching now and Kaz was aware of every place they touched, the heat from her skin and the slide of her tongue against his, consuming any anxiety like a flame. It had been too long since she’d touched him like this and when her fingers curled themselves in his hair he groaned into her mouth, no one drew that sound from him. No one but her.

When they broke apart her hands didn’t leave his neck and he didn’t pull his forehead away from hers. Her eyes kept him steady, if the world was a stormy sea Inej’s eyes were land.

“I leave in a fortnight.”

Kaz startled slightly, pulling back to take in her closed off expression. He knew she was already preparing to leave him, readying herself. It made him sick with longing, the longing to be with her always. So much so that he blurted, “Can I come with you?”

Now it was Inej’s turn to startle, those pretty black lashes framing her wide eyes as she looked at him. He was rooted to their spot on the bed, hands resting on her elbows as his thoughts grew panicked.

The sea is where she belongs. What do I offer that she doesn’t already have? Why would she want me there?

“You- you’re serious?”

He felt the darkness threatening, lapping at him like an encroaching tide, “It was a stupid question I-”

Inej laughed, the bright and beautiful sound that haunted his dreams erupted from her and she threw herself on top of him. Kaz was so surprised he fell backwards onto the bed, eyes wide as he stared at her on top of him, her smile lighting up his dark room. “It was not a stupid question. I’ve been waiting months for you to ask.”

His shock must have shown clearly on his face because she only laughed again. Kaz thought quite suddenly that he wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. “Oh, ok then.”

The words came out shaky but he knew Inej heard the small smile in them, her lips brushing his neck and trailing up to his jaw as he lay beneath her. He felt the rising heat of her skin as his hands came to rest on her waist, his eyes tracking her lips until she hovered directly above him. When he brought his mouth to hers Kaz thought quite suddenly that if there was one person he would be happy to touch for the rest of his life, it would be Inej Ghafa.

~*~

Kaz woke to the rocking of the warship, it’s creaks and groans a familiar song that gently prodded him awake every morning. He wasn’t surprised to roll over and find himself alone in the captain’s cabin, Inej woke with the sun. Running a hand through mussed hair he pulled himself out of bed, pulling his boots and gloves on before stepping out onto the sun soaked deck. It had caused quite the bout of gossip when Captain Inej Ghafa brought back a friend to join the Wraith’s crew, and a male friend at that. Then there was trying to hide the fact that Kaz, despite having a hammock to himself below deck, spent just about every night on board in Inej’s arms.

Thankfully no one in Inej’s crew of rescued slaves and refugees was very judgemental of this fact, as far as they were concerned the first mate had told him, what the captain did in her free time was none of their business. But that didn’t stop Kaz from turning an embarrassing shade of pink when the crew called him “the captain’s Ketterdam man”.

He took in the sight of the calm sea and was relieved to spot Inej alone by the rail, the rest of the crew still below deck. The former gang boss took a moment to admire the way her braid danced behind her, her face tilted upward towards the sun as the ship sailed ahead. It still took his breath away, how in her element his wraith was at sea. It warmed Kaz to see her like this, warmed his soul in a way that made him believe he could be happy spending the rest of his life with her like this. Helping where he could, but letting someone else call the shots for once. “I can hear your breathing, being invisible is not your strength.”

He smiles slightly, she’s not wrong. “I was just enjoying the view, Captain.”

Kaz watched Inej shiver slightly at the title, they’d only been at sea a few weeks and she still hadn’t gotten used to him calling her by title, still insisting on Inej. But he loved watching her flush whenever he called her captain, it was so rare to see his stoic treasure perturbed by a simple title, who could really blame him for misusing it? “Are you going to come join me or have you still not found your sea legs Kaz.”

He smiled, how rude. It was true it had taken him an embarrassingly long time to get used to more than a few weeks at sea, but no matter, Inej had always been there. Kaz moved to the rail leaning so that they stood shoulder to shoulder looking out over the sea. He felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude then, at the realization of how happy he’d been these past weeks. “Thank you.”

Inej looked at him, a playful smile on her sunlit face. “For what?”

“For wanting me here.”

He turned his face to hers and the smile that greeted him was so bright Kaz couldn’t look away. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Wait she was laughing at him now. Kaz narrowed his eyes and nudged her. “What? Why are you laughing?”

He didn’t want her to stop laughing now that she had started, dark hair blown out of her braid and lashes kissing her cheeks. “Oh nothing you’re just being so honest today, I never thought I’d see the day.”

Inej slid closer until Kaz looped both arms loosely around her waist. She was looking up at him more seriously now, her laughter having drifted away on the breeze. “I’ll always want you here Kaz, with me.”

Tension that he hadn’t noticed seeped from his shoulders at that, a small sigh leaving him when she brought one hand to his face. His voice was shaky when he spoke. “Good. That’s where I want to be.”

Inej smiled, that warm soft smile that made his chest hurt and Kaz couldn’t not lean in and kiss her soundly.

~*~

Guys this was SO hard to end and I’m still not happy with the ending so please tell me how I did :’)

Don’t forget to come say hi on ao3 and leave a comment or reblog this post! ~ Love Liles

#kanej #post crooked kingdom #kaz is so soft for his wraith #six of crows #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x inej #soc fanfic #crooked kingdom

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine:

The Reader and Erik having pillow talk and she asked him “Which one of your scars hurt the most?”

They were never going to get out of bed at this rate. Tangled in the sheets, Y/N and Erik were staring into each other’s eyes and listening to each other’s breathing. Erik was enamored by her striking beauty. The girl from Atlanta that he met through baggage claim only four months prior. This was the time they also got to know each other more. He learned how much she loved cats and that she couldn’t bring herself to adopting a new one after her cat passed away. She used to be a gymnast but quit at the age of 17 because of a broken ankle which ruined her chances of going to the Olympics. Her mother is of Creole heritage and supposedly they were descendants of Marie Laveau. Her favorite color is emerald green. She graduated with a degree in History and now she’s an Archivist. Her father was a drunk and a sexual abuser to her mother and she was glad he died from cirrhosis of the liver. She has a strawberry birthmark on her left buttocks. She’s fluent in French and Spanish. So much more amazing facts about her.

Erik told her of his life in Oakland and how he was passed around from foster care to foster care. Detention Centers, Juvie, almost in jail, Naval Academy, Military, MIT for grad school. Fluent in French, Spanish, German, Xhosa, and a lot more. He had a love for cooking, reading, anime, and rain. Very skilled in combat knowing three different fighting styles such as Dambe of Africa, Krav Maga that he learned while military training, and Jiu-Jitsu. He hated politics. Erik was very careful at the beginning with telling Y/N about himself but the closer they became the more she wondered about why he always traveled and what his scars meant. She didn’t know that Erik was a deadly assassin wanted in a few countries like Russia and Iran. So many passports and different currencies. It’s like he had to sleep with his eyes open.

Now, her pure hazel eyes were on his scar covered chest. A savage next to an angel. Y/N reaches out with her buttery soft hand to lightly touch his scars. The feeling tickled him in a delicious way causing Erik to close his eyes and bite his lip. She giggles, Erik, grabbing that same hand to plant a soft kiss to her skin before placing it back on his chest. Her taste lingered on his plush lips and he couldn’t help himself when he licked them.

“Can I ask you something?” She looked up into his onyx eyes, “it’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

“But I want you to,” he spoke with his alluring raspy voice, “I love it when you wanna know more about me, Princess.”

She sat up on her elbows causing her braided hair to fall over her shoulder, “okay,” she allowed her pretty eyes to travel the placement of his scarring, “I wanna know which scar hurt the most.”

“...You really wanna know that?” Erik looked away from her, grabbing her hand again, “I don’t know if you understand what you’re asking me, baby girl.”

“Erik,” her voice alone made him look up into her soft eyes, “I know what I’m asking. And I want to know more about the man that I’m sleeping with and falling in love with...”

She was so precious. There were multiple scars on his body that hurt like hell when he did them. But if he had to choose one...

“Here,” Erik grabs Y/N’s fingers, bringing them around his side to press along his rib cage. There, something she hadn’t noticed before, was a keloid scar that didn’t heal like the rest of the scars. It was oddly shaped and when she pressed into it a little more Erik flinched. He could still feel that one. Y/N drew her hand back quickly causing Erik to wrap his arms around her.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you like that-“

“It still hurts.” She couldn’t understand why she was crying about it.

Yeah, that one wasn’t intentional...it wasn’t methodical like the rest. It was as if he carried the pain of the person he killed with him. Now, Erik was experiencing nostalgia. His memories of that slaying hit him tremendously. He swallowed an angry grunt and squeezed Y/N tighter. Her warm cheek rested against his chest and her knuckles stroked his abdomen making the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

“Erik?” She looked upward, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” He strokes her hair back before grabbing her braid lightly, “You’re not a sorry person and this shit is my mess, not yours.”

“You’re mines so,” She presses her nose against his skin, “Your mess is my mess now, babe.”

“Why didn’t I find you years ago?” She was perfect for him. The calm to his hurricane.

“I wish I knew you before. Even when looking at these scars I still see the same amazing man I know now. I know you feel like trash but I see different.”

Just hearing her say those words made him want to flip her on her back and make sweet love to her. Every stroke inside her delicate and celestial body felt like a part of her was intertwined with him. He was a better man now because of Y/N.

“I killed a childhood friend of mines.”

Y/N continued stroking his abdomen without interrupting Erik. She let him talk.

“It was...the whole situation was fucked up honestly,” Erik felt his lip tremble a little so he twisted his lips to control it, “He tried to get me set up. For some money. 10,000 dollars to get me set up and killed because some motherfuckers wanted me dead back in Oakland. They hated seeing me with a college degree instead of on the streets.”

He paused to gather himself because now he was picturing his friend's lifeless bloody body.

“I was no saint, I have the scars to prove it but I was trying to change, you know? Anyway...I came back to Oakland to reunite with my second family. They took me in, fed me, clothed me, and made sure I was in school even though both of us were out there running with the wrong crowd. I wanted to properly tell them how much I appreciate everything they did for me even when I didn’t seem like I cared, you know?”

Y/N nods her head slowly to let Erik know she was hanging onto every word he said.

“So, my childhood friend asked me to meet him at Fat Burger on N Vasco Rd like we used to do before we hit the liquor store and bought up some weed. Burgers, drinks, and weed...that was our shit. I pull up and usually, it’s hella niggas out there and some shorties too. Nah. This night it was blank and cold out there. Luckily I brought my Glock with me...”

Erik looked down at Y/N to check in on her and when he did their eyes met. She looked so innocent like a child being told a bedtime story.

“Go on, I’m listening,” she spoke with a whisper.

Erik swallows spit, “The minute I grabbed my gun I see a big ass white H2 Hummer 2008 pull up, about four niggas with silver 9mm pistols hop out. Y/N, I could feel my whole world tumbling before me like a fucking earthquake touched down in San Fran. That’s when I knew that this nigga set me up. After everything, he set me up to get killed in a fucking Fat Burger parking lot by four punk ass niggas who couldn’t even hold a gun. Shit was fucked up.”

Her warm hand pressed down on the center of Erik’s chest to help him ease his shaky breaths. Erik’s hands came down to fist the sheets, veins in his arms and shoulders surfacing as he replayed that night in his head. He had just turned 32. All the Wakanda shit happened and he felt renewed.

“I held my own and killed all four of them. My friend didn’t know how skilled I was. You need a whole army for me and that’s even if you get me. After I dropped them motherfuckers I checked out the car and saw duffle bags and shit to break into somebody's place. And I bought a new house. After seeing that I saw red. Not just the blood but...I was so hurt and I just wanted to kill him.”

Erik glares at the ceiling, “I pulled up on my friend, he was home smoking weed with the neighborhood hoe in the back sleeping that he made his main bitch. I dressed in all black and I used the tip of my gun to knock on that door.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“He opened it high as a kite and I wanted him to see the hurt in my eyes before I pulled that ski mask down to finish him off. I didn’t want to talk, I wanted him dead just like them other niggas. He looked from my gun to my face and then he closed his eyes. Shorty in the back came out wrapping a robe around her body and he stopped her. She ran back into the room and slammed and locked the door.”

So...this how it is, E?

“Shut the fuck up you grimy motherfucker,” Erik could see himself pointing the gun at his friend's face as tears streamed his eyes.

“Why? Why Aaron? You’re own brother?”

Listen, niggas kept hounding me. Saying they were gonna kill me and Simone. You know Simone got a baby on the way so I did what I had to do.

Erik saw they’re text conversations between them. He knew it was calculated but he wanted his friend to say his part. And the nigga was lying dead in his face. He was about to be on his face in a minute.

“Save it, nigga,” Erik saw his hand roughly shove him inside his home, pulling his ski mask down further and slamming the door shut.

“Get the fuck off the floor and sit your ass down in that chair so I can see you, nigga.”

Aaron got up and carefully sat down. Still the same old Aaron. Just now he was betraying his friends.

“You know what’s about to happen, right?”

E, man, listen, I had to man, it’s me, E, it’s A-Ron, we boys, we go way back, man, we’re brothers-

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

What about Simone? She-she knows how you look man she’ll call up her peoples, E, don’t do this-

“Simone ain’t stupid,” Erik laughed darkly, “She knows if she talks I’m killing that bitch too. I bet both of y’all tried to set me up. You and that loose pussy bitch.” He saw his spit flying out and connecting to his hand and the Glock.

Aaron’s silence confirmed it. It was him and Simone. Shit, now she had to die too.

E!!! No...E, please man, don’t do it man, fuck, It wasn’t all her E!!!! Don’t do her like that, please-

Now that Erik thought about it, one of them niggas who tried to kill him was her brother.

“I thought I told you to stop whining like a punk bitch and take this shit like a man? You a real motherfucking gangsta, right? Planning to kill your own family for some money? Nigga, I wanna see your brains on the floor.”

Simone came running out with a gun of her own. Bitch wasn’t 6 months pregnant. Hoe ass still slim. He was gonna kill her for aiming a gun at his head. She didn’t deserve a scar on his body.

Simone, go back in the room!

She didn’t listen and actually fired a shot at Erik that would have got him in the shoulder if he wasn’t so swift. He came at that bitch with two rounds to her chest. She fell back with a heavy thud.

NO!

Erik could see Aaron snarl like a pit bull. He let out an ugly cry and shot up to grab his gun. Erik peeped that he had it hiding beside his couch.

“You forget who you fucking wit, Aaron?”

Little Erik from way back when. Little Erik that thought he was too good to look out for his family back in Oakland. The family that took you in. Nigga, if I didn’t organize the kill some other niggas would have. Won’t be surprised if some of them driving by your gated community ready to set it off-

“It’s Killmonger.” Erik could feel his blood boiling.

Aaron laughs.

Who?

He hastily aims for Erik but he was fucking with Killmonger. A skilled assassin wanted in two countries.

Pow. Pow.

Aaron’s brains were on the floor...

“Erik?”

He could hear her voice bringing him out of his trance. Erik blinked and now he was back in bed, naked with Y/N. She was sitting up now, bare chest moving rapidly with every deep breath and tears in her eyes. Did Erik just tell her all of that? Flashes happened before his eyes and he could see himself in a cold motel bathroom pacing with rage. He could hear himself screaming at his reflection in the mirror before beating the side of his head. Erik saw his past self punch the mirror into tiny pieces. Erik saw his hand pick up a long shard of glass that fell in the dirty sink. His shirt coming up rest under his chin as tears pricked his eyes making it harder for him to see. That glass broke the surface on his rib cage and his hand shook. He could see himself placing a zig-zag scar into his skin. The glass shard cut into his palm. He was doing so well. Now, he had to leave Oakland behind again.

“Shit, baby,” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, cradling his head. His hot tears dropped to her breasts and down her belly. Startling her Erik pulls Y/N on his lap bringing his large arms around her. He wept and she did with him.

“I opened that wound back up, shit, this is my fault,” she felt stupid for asking him that now.

“No,” Erik looked up at her with his wet lashes, tear-stained cheeks, and red nose, “I needed that. I need to just,” he breathed in and out, “let the shit go. It was still haunting me.”

“I didn’t want it to get this heavy,” she wiped her face, “Just keep holding me so that I know you're alright.”

Erik gripped her naked waist and rest his head between her breasts. Her smell, warmth, voice, the taste of her tears on his upper lip, she was...so...good. He groaned when he felt his dick plumping up between his legs.

“It’s okay,” She felt it too, “I got you, baby.”

Y/N cupped the back of his head gently, “here,” she brought his mouth to her left nipple, “it’s okay...”

Erik sucked on her nipples softly. His saliva mixed with his tears covered her perky breasts. She rubbed circles with her thumb into the skin on the back of his neck.

“Mm,” she moaned gingerly, “You want more?”

Her hand came down between them to rub along his dick. She picked his weight up and slapped her pussy with it. He could hear the gushy sounds. Erik popped his mouth off her nipple to look into her light brown eyes. She didn’t say a word as she gripped his shoulder with one hand, opened her legs, and picked up his dick with her other hand to sink down on him. His forehead fell forward with defeat. Y/N pulled Erik’s arms around her waist again and with slow smooth strokes, she fucked him.

“You need this, baby,” she kissed his eyebrow, “just feel me, okay?”

Her pussy slushed and oozed around him. Damn, she was giving him what he craved to fix the ache. Fucking the pain out of him like her pussy was made of angel dust. Erik rests his head on her shoulder and allowed his senses to kick in. He could smell her and feel her pulling on his dick. He could feel his balls tightening and his dick swelling. He was going to cum prematurely. Erik grabs Y/N’s waist, bouncing her on him. Her sweet moans and begs for him to fuck her good drove Erik insane. He laid his body flat, pulling her down with him. He raised his hips from the bed and pumped into her pussy. She could hear herself splashing on him.

“Yes, Erik, yes, take my pussy,” she placed soothing kisses on his neck, “Do it, baby, that’s it, make you feel all better, yeah?”

“YES.” He spoke with a grunt.

She bit into his shoulder.

“Baby, you’re making me cum. Faster, yes, don’t be shy, daddy, fuck me faster.”

She was his undoing. Erik grabs her ass to keep her still while he fucked her into a frenzy. She connected with his eyes and Erik didn’t blink away. Not even when he started to cum. A vein formed in the middle of his forehead from how hard he came inside of her. She bit down on her lip, squeezing him purposely to empty him fully.

“Oh, God, Erik.”

“I love you.” He whispered before his eyes closed.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh@chaneajoyyy@pananegra@theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah@moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold@njadakillthiscookie@blktinkerbell@luvanxi @sheisexcellent1@chocolatedippedinhoney@brandithecrystalgem@dababydababydababydababy@soulfulbeauty19@btitannaaa@sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted@harleycativy @rbhp@thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone@bugngiz@palmstreesallday@skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark

#nahimjustfeelingit writes #killmonger smut #killmonger fic #erik killmonger #killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader

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a11235carrot · 4 years ago

Text

Ever Onwards-Dragons?

"Naruto Uzumaki" Normal speech

"Naruto Uzumaki" Normal thoughts

"Kurama" Big guy speech

"Kurama" Big guy thoughts

Chapter 1

"Naruto!"

"Sasuke!"

"Shannaro!"

Three voices intertwined as their owners finally triumphed over the greatest threat the Elemental Nations has ever faced.

Pale, royal lavender Byakugan eyes helplessly glared with hatred at the reincarnations of Indra and Ashura as the sun and moon reached out to forever shatter her dreams of eternal peace. "Im…possible. For me, the mother of all chakra, to be bested by the wretched offspring of Hagoromo." Alabaster fists, capable of ending all of existence, tightly clenched as Kaguya Ōtsutsuki bitterly railed against her oncoming defeat. Suddenly, just as she felt Naruto and Sasuke grip her shoulders, her hate filled all-seeing eyes spotted her only path of freedom, the seal on the belly of the glowing blond who, out of the two, managed to humiliate and infuriate her the most.

"If my fate is to once again be sealed…"

"RIKUDŌ: CHIBAKU TENSEI!"

"...then you shall suffer with me!"

The instant Naruto and Sasuke finished the strongest sealing jutsu, a giant black sphere of impossible gravitational power emerged, forcing even Kaguya, the progenitor of chakra, up into the sky. As she drew closer to the orb, wisps of dark blue streams swiftly turned into raging rivers as Kaguya's god-like chakra constantly streamed from her body into the seal, strengthening its already powerful gravitational pull to the point of distorting space itself.

Below, the earth tore itself asunder as distant mountain ranges cracked and groaned before violently hurtling up towards the Rabbit Goddess, forming a giant prison not unlike the distant moon in space.

"Finally, it's done." Back down on the ruined earth, Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, and Kakashi all relaxed when they saw Kaguya about to be completely hidden from view.

However, just as the two incarnations of the Sage's sons were about to send the second moon into space, the enormous ball of compressed earth and stone suddenly trembled, causing bits of rocks to tumble to the ground. Yet none of them noticed the tremor since the unbreakable prison was already shaking from all of the tons of earth to begin with.

That didn't last long.

With a last burst of her godly chakra, Kaguya shuttled her prison between dimensions towards the quartet, who only now began to realize something was wrong when a black rift in space abruptly swallowed her.

"What the…"

Naruto, still garbed in both Kurama's and the Rikudō Sennin's Yang chakra, uttered his astonishment before widening his crossed eyes in shock when Kaguya's prison teleported not twenty feet above him.

"Oi, Sasuke! What the hell is going…AHHHH!"

Then, before Sasuke's shocked mystic eyes, a scene unpleasantly reminding him of when Madara absorbed the God Tree into himself occurred just hours earlier happen to his only friend.

But it was what he heard and saw that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

Unlike the mad Uchiha, Naruto - the same person who would go to ridiculous lengths to hide away his suffering - was screaming out in terrifying agony as bloody cracks ripped apart his skin, swiftly dyeing his clothes a hideous red, before closing up thanks to his powerful regeneration...only to open again.

And again.

And again until the ground beneath was soaked in blood.

Through it all, an ugly grimace etched itself on his whiskered visage as what was equivalent to more than double an entire world's worth of chakra - determined to do nothing else but make its new host experience a living hell - maliciously barged into the seal that currently contained only the Yin half of Kurama.

"Kurama, what…the hell is going on in here!" Tearing his attention away from the pain and into his mindscape, a kneeling Naruto bore witness to what equated to a second moon pushing its way into the Kyuubi's cage, the bars that once held back the fox beginning to crumble and shatter under its impossible weight and presence. Had he been anyone else, his body would have simply evaporated, leaving nothing behind except a giant construct of rock and goddess as his tombstone. As it were, the only thing preventing this from happening or his chakra pathways outright shattering was a giant nine-tailed fox with dark russet fur desperately pushing against Kaguya's prison, only allowing the foreign object to slowly enter as the seal attempted to readjust itself.

"Hold on brat! Just hold on a little longer! Kaguya must have used the last burst of chakra under her control to teleport herself into your seal!"

"I…see." A crimson eye twitched. "NO I DON'T! HOW THE HELL DID SHE DO THAT AND OWOWOWOW…"

"SHUT IT BRAT, I'M A LITTLE BUSY OVER HERE! AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT SUPER GRANNY OVER HERE DID?!" Kurama ferociously roared as he was steadily pushed back further into the seal by the moon.

"…!" Naruto didn't bother answering back as he was yanked back into the real world from a sudden jerk on the back of his shredded jacket. Flipping through the air, the first thing he saw and felt was solid stone as his face bounced off of Hashirama's arm. Arms trembling, his vision blurred and twisted by the body-ripping agony, he shakily pulled himself back on his feet, only for his gut to sink when he saw his brother from another life stand opposite of him.

A Chidori chirping on his hand.

60 Years Later

Fragile russet brown leaves, cracked and dried as they always were at this time of year, faintly rustled as the cool wind of Fall whispered through the boughs of the trees surrounding the Uchiha compound before falling to join the small, colorful tornado of leaves swirling above the ground, much to the delight of children running around the compound. Just a few blocks away, the barking of Inuzaka clan dogs intertwined with the sharp chirps of birds could be heard all over Konoha as the sun rose to greet the new day. Only the faint wisps of smoke that rose from budding industry marred the otherwise picturesque scene.

All in all, it was a normal day for the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Yet, as laughter and barks drifted through the air, the Uchiha compound was silent, the heavy, almost tangible, atmosphere hanging above a stark contrast to the one outside. No light or signs of life could be seen from the rows of old, but well-maintained, houses, except for one deep within the ancestral area. Inside, behind a pair of thin paper walls and beneath a blanket laid a man with pitch-black hair and streaks of silver running through it, inky eyes, and a missing left arm shorn off near the elbow. His face and build, once the object of rabid affection from women across the Elemental Nations, now withered and lined with age.

On each side of him knelt two people. On his left was a woman with pale pink hair, startling green eyes, and a fading violet diamond on her wrinkled forehead. Faint lines marked the edges of her lips and eyes, the legendary seal taught by her master now losing its potency in her advanced age; yet, such trivial blemishes did nothing to diminish the gentle smile that played on her lips as she gazed down at her husband. On the opposite side sat someone who didn't seem to quite belong: a young man with sun-kissed blonde hair, eyes as blue as a cloudless summer sky, three whisker-like birthmarks on each cheek, and a right arm completely wrapped in bandages covered in a myriad of minute black seals. If not for his radically different features, he could've been mistaken as the son or even grandson of the old couple before him.

For several minutes, none spoke as dust lightly settled on the soft mats. Yet, despite the depressing air surrounding them, there was a sense of peace and comfort brought along with years of friendship and complete trust in the other. Finally, it was the bedridden man who broke the silence.

"Dobe, Sakura, I'm cough cough!" A string of coughs broke Sasuke's sentence. Only after Sakura, her hands speeding through seals with almost nonchalant ease, passed a glowing green hand over his chest did he stop. Taking a deep breath, he locked eyes with the man he called friend. "I'm dying…and there is something I must -"

A grunt interrupted his words. "Tch, you've been saying that for the past couple of years ya damn bastard. Yet here you are, still breathing and going on about that insane plan of yours. I've said it before and I'll say it again! With the power of the Six Paths and your eyes, you can still live for a few more years with Sakura and Sarada! Come on Sakura, you have to back me up on this." Naruto retorted with his arms crossed before his chest, glancing between the two as he pleaded for them to see reason, hoping to trigger even a fraction of the unyielding resolution Sasuke used to have. However, the worry in his eyes betrayed him.

Off to the side, Sakura merely sighed, not bothering to give a straight answer, having long agreed with Sasuke's proposal.

Suddenly, just as Sasuke was about to respond, a shudder wracked Naruto's powerful frame as pain capable of driving a god insane coursed through his body. Slowly, his shaking form started to keel over, and would have if not for the thin layer of gold flames which erupted from within. As his companion from birth undid the changes that took place in his very genes, Naruto spat out a small wad of blood before righting himself.

Through it all, neither of his friends bothered to react, as if used to the sight of someone capable of punching a hole through the moon losing control of his body, the only sign of worry reflected within their eyes while the scent of rusted iron filled the air.

"Even after all these years, you're still a dobe." Sasuke chuckled quietly, more amused than angry at the weak attempt to rile him up; he knew Naruto meant nothing by it. His eyes grew misty as he remembered all the times they clashed, whether it be with words or their fists, each bruise and scar a proud reminder of their times together. As he watched Naruto wipe the blood from his lips, he mentally sighed, "How time has flown by..."

Before he could sink deeper into nostalgia, a streak of agony lanced up his crippled arm. He winced at the unwelcome surprise.

"Enough, the past is the past. There is work to be done."

Taking a deep breath, Sasuke glowered at the stubborn blond, lifting his decrepit body inch by inch with a trembling arm. "Hn, do you take me for a fool, or do you think me so blind as to not see the seal holding both Kaguya and Kurama is already on its last legs, not to mention your body is already breaking down at the seams? How long do you have? A day? A week? Maybe a month? Maybe you even have a year, but by then, when that bitch finally claws her way out of that seal, I won't be able to even stand never mind fight! And you?" His voice trailed off, the room still trembling under the force of his fury and chakra.

Flopping back into bed, beads of sweat rolled over his heaving chest as he cursed how weak he was. Yet not once did his eyes leave Naruto's, his tone now soft, almost begging for him to see the inevitable. With a sense of finality, he delivered the finishing blow.

"And you...you will be dead. Either by internal combustion, or by her hand after she rips Kurama from your belly. Along with everyone else."

For a moment, nobody said anything, for how could they? No matter how Naruto wanted to deny, yell at his friend he was wrong, that there was always another way, his throat choked up before he could say the words.

Because the bastard was right, as he usually was.

When he saw Naruto stay quiet, Sasuke seized the opportunity to say the words that had to be said.

"Only when Yin and Yang combine back into one will you be able to preserve your body from breaking down anymore than it has already. And with my eyes, you will be able to resist Kaguya's pull on the Jūbi and only then stand a chance against her." He paused for a second before adding, "Perhaps your seal will even stabilize and give you time to adapt to your new powers."

Naruto irritably rubbed the back of his head as he sighed in frustration.

"Maybe my the changes to my body can be halted. Maybe the seal will stabilize. There are too many maybe's! You already know I'm at my limit, what with the old man's Yang chakra, Kurama and Kaguya, not to mention my own considerable reserves. I'll give you a maybe too. Maybe I'll explode the moment you transfer your Yin chakra and damn pinkeyes into my skull! There are just too...many...maybe's for this 'plan' of yours to work!"

It was a weak reason, and Naruto knew it.

Sakura knew it.

And Sasuke definitely knew it. And he made sure Naruto knew he knew. Ignoring how his body protested the motion, the elder Uchiha forced his body back up into a sitting position.

"Idiot!"

In response, Naruto slapped his hands down on the mat...or rather through it.

"Brooding emo!"

A hint of red and violet emerged within the inky darkness as Sharingan and Rinnegan whirled to life.

"Knucklehead!"

Ha! That's a compliment you son of-!"

Just as the two seemed ready to leap at each other to brawl it out, a hand appeared behind their skulls.

"ENOUGH!"

Smash!

A certain someone finally couldn't stand it any longer as her legendary temper, rumored to even surpass her mentor's, burst to life as she slammed her teammates' heads together until all they could see was stars. Finally, as the two legends slumped to the ground, a lone figure stood tall, her figure illuminated by the morning sun as rested her hands on her hips, green eyes ablaze with victory and exasperation alike.

"Ow, Sakura, what was that for?/Hn, was that really necessary?" Their complaints quickly petered out when they saw the culprit raise her glowing fist in warning. Seeing them simmer down, Sakura withdrew her fist to point at Naruto.

"Naruto, listen, and I mean really listen. I'm only going to say this once. You've already heard Sasuke's reasons for transferring his powers to you, and there's nothing wrong with what he said. So I won't say anything more about that. But there's something else you must consider. You know that the Elemental Nations have changed, for better or worse. Peace is now the name of the game and with everything you've worked for, power such as yours and Sasuke's is no longer needed in the new society, not with everyone across the land being so goody goody towards one another. Even the shinobi way is dying out, with the lack of wars and safer roads. It can be seen everywhere. Last year, only two children signed up for the Shinobi Academy and even then, they soon dropped out to become...businessmen. Not to mention the recent Kages are a joke compared to the past ones; some haven't even seen death."

The light in their eyes dimmed as they thought of how a core part of their childhood was dying out. However, they had come to terms with this long ago; the tradition of the shinobi was one built on blood and hatred and no longer had a place in the new age of peace. Lowering her hand, Sakura sat back down, her face slightly pale with exhaustion as her other hand sought for Sasuke's.

"Naruto, the last shinobi who could be considered true shinobi was Sarada's generation. Soon, the shinobi will cease to exist after her generation passes on, but you...should you survive the coming fight, you will be the last shinobi. So just take it, take the gift that he is offering, even if it's just a way to remind you of us after we pass on." Sakura softly said as she held her husband's hand.

A minute passed while Naruto tightly clenched his fists as his mouth opened and closed while trying to form words to somehow dissuade them. But to no avail. Shoulders slumped, his head drooped down in defeat.

"Do it then. Do it before I change my mind." Naruto softly whispered.

With hardly a pause, a paper seal slapped down on the back of his neck. As he slumped towards the floor, the last thing he felt was a slight body holding him before gently laying him down next the bed.

"Finally, it's done." Sasuke whispered; the corner of his lips quirked up as what seemed to be the weight of the world fell off his shoulders. As Naruto lost consciousness, he looked back to his wife's face to see two tracks of tears spilling out from her eyes as she fussed about with the blond's eternally spiky hair in preparation for the surgery. Stretching out a trembling hand, the last reincarnation of Indra took hold of his friend's right hand.

"At last, the cycle is broken. Perhaps, this is another form of revolution as the old man foretold..." Preparing to transfer his half of Hagoromo's power as well his own chakra reserves, Sasuke glanced up at his wife for over fifty year's glistening eyes before an uncharacteristically large grin broke out on his face.

"I love you Sakura. See you on the other side."

A small chuckle squeezed past Sakura's lips even as more tears dripped down her cheeks when she saw that smile. Leaning down, she tenderly kissed him placing a seal on his chest.

The last thing Uchiha Sasuke, Savior of the World, Last Reincarnation of Indra, heard was, "I know, Sasuke-kun. Have a good rest."

Then he saw nothing.

One Hour Later

As Naruto regained consciousness, he realized that all he could see was black before realizing the thick layer of gauze and bandages wrapped over his eyes. But he didn't motion to remove it. Instead, he reached out towards the last constant in his life.

"Kurama, you there?"

A puff of hot air rustled his hair as the giant fox made himself known.

"Yes, I'm here."

Turning around, Naruto stared into the giant crimson eye that towered above him. "...and Sakura and the bastard?"

Kurama hesitated before cautiously replying, "Naruto...they're gone."

"...I see."

Drip...drip...

Bloody tears slowly stained the bandage over his eyes red before splashing onto the floor. Gingerly standing up, Naruto fell again before steadying himself. Reaching up, he slowly began to remove the bandage around his head. When the last piece of gauze fluttered to the ground, he opened his eyes, an inky black much like the bottom of a lake during the new moon. If he looked closely, on his previously unmarked left palm was the small symbol a moon, the proof the operation worked. If he cared to pay attention, he would notice the constant bouts of agony that once consumed his mind and body were now nowhere to be felt, now replaced by a new sense of completeness as well as a new source of power lurking just underneath the surface of his skin.

But he noticed none of this. All he could see was the blurry image of his friends nestled together, their eyes forever shut and their hands tightly intertwined. Stumbling forward, he fell onto his knees and as he drew closer, he saw the small, but genuine smiles mirrored on their lips.

"Goodbye Sasuke, Sakura," Naruto whispered; leaning in, he kissed their foreheads before staggering away, his form blurring into nothingness as he raced away from Konoha, unaware and uncaring of the swathe of trees that exploded when they stood in his way.

That night, a sorrowful bellow rumbled through the land as Naruto lamented the loss of two of its legends, and more importantly his dearest friends.

30 Years Later

Three decades of time found Naruto silently standing on the easternmost shore of the Elemental Nations, watching the endless sea break against protruding rocks while enjoying the cooling sea breeze that sprang up now and again. After a particularly rough gust, the loose sleeves of his orange shirt and white trenchcoat with the kanji for Seventh Hokage sewn on it in red fluttered up, revealing a nearly invisible storage seal etched into the back of his left arm. Patting down his rebellious sleeves, he returned to quietly gazing into the endless blue sea with his now lighter black eyes, recalling everything that happened since the end of the 4th Shinobi War. From the defeat, sealing, and absorption of Kaguya, his marriage with Hinata, becoming the Seventh Hokage of Konoha and all the good times in between.

However, despite all the years he had to grieve, he refused to dwell on their deaths, rather choosing to remember them when they were alive.

A rumble through his mind broke his reverie.

"Naruto, you sure about this? If you do this and ever come back, no one will remember or even recognize you." Kurama asked.

"I'm fine Kurama. I have packed more than enough ramen and weapons…"

The giant fox interrupted him. "You know that's not what I meant brat. I'm asking whether…"

A tired sigh held back the rest of Kurama's words. "That's enough Kurama. You know why I must do this. Besides, I thought you out of the two of us would want to leave this place the most, since you've already been everywhere and don't want to potentially become a tool for others." Naruto remarked.

"Tch, fat chance of that happening if Kaguya manages to kill us. Whatever, I was just making sure you had no regrets since it would be annoying to hear you complaining about home."

"Hn, love you too furball." Naruto thought back.

"Humph, I guess anything is fine as long you don't get us killed in our journey. Anyways, your other…tenant is starting to wake up." Kurama said in a worried tone.

"Think she'll be a problem?" Naruto shot back with narrowed eyes.

"If you mean whether she will wake up in the middle of the sea…that is a very real possibility. So what will you do? Stay here and possibly lose control, or lose control in the middle of the sea with no land in sight?" Kurama asked.

"My decision remains the same. Better than possibly sinking the entire continent by accident before managing to drag her ass into space or some other dimension. Besides, it's not as if it's decided that I will lose control!" Naruto unintentionally tightened the seal-covered bandage around his right arm.

"Well said Naruto, as expected of the one holding both of my sons' chakra." Said a voice behind Naruto.

"Oi, Hagoromo-san, what did I say about suddenly talking behind my back." Naruto exclaimed, turning around to see the Rikudo no Sennin, Hagoromo Otsutsuki.

"I see that you are going with your plan on leaving the Elemental Nations? If so, I have some knowledge to share with you, along with two gifts." Hagoromo said. "First, you must know after my brother and I first sealed our mother, I created a spacetime barrier with an element of illusion around the Elemental Nations that stretched into the sea. It is because of this barrier, that there has been no visitors from outside the Elemental Nations or mention of other continents beyond this one."

"So this means…" Naruto said

"Yes, once you cross the barrier, it will be difficult for you to return to the mainland. Not even the Hiraishin no Jutsu or the Kamui can guarantee your return due to the nature of the barrier. Only when you have complete control of space and time will you be able to surely return. Should you try it without the knowledge, you might just get tossed into the void and forever drift between dimensions before landing in a random world. I never intended for the way of the shinobi to spread beyond this continent to the rest of the world. However, I should inform you, before I set up the barrier, there was a group of explorers who left soon after my creation of Ninshu around 1000 years ago." With that out of the way, Hagoromo moved closer as he raised a finger.

"Now for my gifts. My first gift is a complete list of Ninjutsu and Fuinjutsu that the Elemental Nations has ever created. No doubt this will prove useful to you. As for my second gift, I will strengthen the seal on my mother with the last of my chakra. With this, she will remain sealed for at most another three or five, years." Hagoromo said as he poked Naruto's head, instantly transferring huge amounts of knowledge as well as strengthening part of the seal that kept Kaguya dormant.

Shaking his head to get rid of the stars that had flashed in his eyes, Naruto took a deep breath before raising his fist, a layer of yellow flames flickering over it. "Thanks for everything old man."

Blinking in surprise, the Sage stared at the proffered fist before smiling and knocking against it with his own. In an instant, a stream of emotions flowed between the three: concern, fear, confidence, sadness, excitement, and others unknown to words.

As Hagoromo retracted his hand, he made one request, much to the fox's protest. "Take care of Kurama, will you. He always was the stubbornest of his siblings, and yet the most sensitive out of all of them."

"Of course…after all, he's my lifelong friend and partner." Ignoring how the fox in his belly roared out in denial of needing anyone to look after him, Naruto flicked his thumb up. However, the hidden melancholy lurking beneath his dark orbs did not escape the God of Shinobi.

"I can only hope you will one day heal and that you find somebody that can bring you happiness…son." The elder Ōtsutsuki inwardly sighed, guilt eating at him when he remembered the day the presence of Kaguya forced Naruto onto the immortal path.

"I believe you. Now it is time for you to go. Remember to train with all of your powers, and good luck." Tapping his staff against the ground, Hagoromo slowly faded from the Elemental Nations, never to be see again.

"Goodbye Hagoromo-san/Otou-san." Naruto and Kurama said one last time.

Just as he disappeared, his voice rang out one last time, just barely audible to the two, "Oh, and Naruto...Happy 100th Birthday."

Naruto sadly stared at where the first God of Shinobi disappeared with a few tears in his eyes before wiping them away.

"So even you have faded away…"

"Come on brat, let's go."

"Yeah."

#naruto #eragon #fanfic #crossover

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uncommoncold · 4 years ago

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Whispers and Nightmares

Summary: As Yeosang and Seonghwa's relationship begins to evolve, whispers and nightmares from previous lives begin to infiltrate Yeosang's sleeping hours.

Word Count: 3.4k

Content Warning: Soul Mate!AU, Light Bondage, Anal Sex, Edging, Teasing, Masturbation, Wet Dreams

The sweat on his honey kissed skin glistened in the candlelight. He admired him. He adored him. He worshipped him. He loved him. He would continue to do so until the day he died in his service. Seonghwa’s head dipped over his writing desk, Yeosang rushed forward toward him. “Master, it’s late… you should sleep.”

“This is important, I must finish it before the morning.” Seonghwa looked up at Yeosang and smiled gently, as he reached to lay his hand against his cheek.

“You’re not well master, please.” Yeosang laid his hand over Seonghwa’s.

“I am almost finished, just a few more lines. Wait for me.” He offered a wan smile, his face a mask of weariness and pain.

The vindictive harpy’s venom had ravaged Seonghwa’s body. It was a miracle he had survived her hate but her treachery had been discovered. She had been made to pay for her crimes but Seonghwa had suffered greatly. He would have taken his suffering a thousand times over to see his master smile as he once had. He knew their time was short. Yeosang covered his mouth with both hands to hold the sobs within. Tears spilled over his clasped hands as he watched Seonghwa struggling to finish his last great work, the piece that would ensure his legacy, the piece that would ensure a comfortable future for his family and his lover.

As the sun crested over the horizon, he laid down his brush. He turned his head to Yeosang who hovered nearby. “I will sleep now.”

Yeosang nodded and helped him to his bed, taking a cool cloth to bathe his face and neck. Seonghwa watched him with tired eyes, “Do you remember the first time I took you to my bed?”

Their eyes met and Yeosang nodded, “I loved you even then.”

“Only then?” Seonghwa wrapped his hand around Yeosang’s, stilling his movements.

“No, I loved you long before.”

“Even when you said you hated me?”

“I have never hated you. There were times I wished that I could but I never could.” Yeosang sighed and offered a smile to his lover.

“Lay with me.”

Yeosang laid down, stretching out beside his friend, teacher, master, and lover.

“Promise me something…” His voice was so quiet now.

“Anything, you need but ask.” Yeosang’s eyes shone bright with unshed tears.

“In our next life…”

“No- There is still plenty of time for us in this life. Please don-”

“Yeosang, you were always quick and clever. You know we are out of time as well as I do. That is why, in our next life you must promise me, you will find me. Promise me that no matter what happens, you will find me.”

A tear broke free and slipped down over the birthmark that rested beside Yeosang’s eye. He nodded, “I will find you. I will always find you.”

“I love you, Yeosang. I will always love you, every step we take, each life we live, my love for you will only grow stronger. Nothing will keep me from you and only death can tear me from your side. You do believe me don’t you?”

The tears now poured freely, his bottom lip trembled and he sniffed as he nodded, “I believe you. How can I not? No one has ever given me their love as freely as you have. Please…”

He wanted to scream, to plead for Seonghwa to stay with him but he, better than anyone, knew the constant pain his lover suffered and how weak his body had grown. He had been so strong and vibrant, a smile his ready companion. It would only be selfish to ask more from him now. Yeosang leaned forward and pressed his tear stained lips to Seonghwa’s. Weakly, his kiss was returned.

“Do not rush to see me. Live long and find happiness after I am gone.” Seonghwa winced as pain shot through him but it did not compare to knowing he was leaving his beloved alone.

That was a promise he did not wish to keep but still he nodded. “I will.”

Seonghwa nodded and closed his eyes, “Good. I will rest now, for a little while...”

***

Yeosang awakened with a jolt. His pillow was soaked with sweat.

The details of his dream were quickly fading but he was left with an incalculable sense of mourning and loss.

Seonghwa, he had to see Seonghwa.

He ran out into the living room, looking toward the kitchen before checking the bathroom. His bedroom door was open and he wasn’t in it. His heart was pounding, he had to see him, find him. The sound of the back door opening and closing garnered his attention and he looked around to see Seonghwa standing there smiling.

Without thinking, Yeosang ran across the small space and wrapped his arms around him.

“You’re alright. You’re alright.” Yeosang raised shining eyes to Seonghwa who looked back at him with concern plainly etched on his beautiful face.

“Are you alright? Did you run somewhere?” He couldn’t quite account for Yeosang’s appearance. He was still wearing his pajamas and looked like he had run a marathon. As far as he knew, he was still sleeping. It also wasn’t in his usual slate of actions to hug him first thing in the morning.

He was relieved beyond words, he almost collapsed with relief. Reality was beginning to settle back in and he looked around more than a little confused. It was the same house he knew and had grown to love. The familiar couch that had proved so comfortable a bed when the ceiling in his room collapsed. The chair he had spent so many hours in doing homework. The table he had eaten countless meals at, the kitchen he had cooked just as many cups of ramyeon and had been learning to cook real food. He realized he was still clinging to a very worried looking Seonghwa but he couldn’t quite make himself let go. He was terrified he would vanish if he released his hold.

“Yeosang?” Seonghwa reached up and laid his hand on Yeosang’s forehead, checking to see if he had a temperature. He didn’t feel hot, in fact, he felt quite cool if sweaty. “Are you okay?”

“Am I…?” He could only remember snippets of his dream now. He remembered Seonghwa’s face or could it be because the man was before him now? Had he dreamed of him? Yes, he had definitely been there but what had happened? Why was he so panicked when he woke up? “I think … I think I dreamed about you, something … I don’t know.”

The sense of panic had faded only to be replaced by confusion.

Seonghwa smiled and patted his back, “It’s okay, I’m okay. Why don’t you have a nice hot bath? I’ll make you some breakfast, how does that sound?”

As much as he still didn’t want to take his eyes off of Seonghwa, he couldn’t come up with a good excuse to keep standing there. He slowly let go of him and nodded. Yeosang got some clean clothes and drew himself a bath. Normally he preferred showers but the idea of a nice soak sounded good. He could hear Seonghwa in the kitchen and soon the smell of food floated in. He slumped down in the water, keeping his nose just above the water line. What was it he had dreamed and why was it so devastating? He sank into the water completely, holding his breath for as long as he could before resurfacing. Whatever it was, it was just a dream and he had to shake it off. It was normal for him to forget his dreams upon waking but it wasn’t normal for them to affect him so strongly. If he kept this up, his roommate was sure to think he had gone completely insane.

The next few nights were peaceful and he slept well. Then again, he awoke with a feeling of immeasurable loss. This time it was different, he wasn’t worried for Seonghwa’s loss, it was only a pervasive and intense feeling of missing him. That was patently insane, he had seen him right before he went to bed and he knew that he would see him again when he got home from classes. It was a Tuesday and he would have already left for class. He wanted to see him.

What in the world was wrong with him lately? He shook himself and got out of bed to get ready for his own day. Seonghwa had left breakfast on the table for him. He always scolded him when he didn’t eat a proper breakfast and he often left breakfast out for him. There was something on the edge of his memory, Seonghwa scolding him for not eating. He tried to grasp it but just like that it was gone. Just then his phone buzzed, signaling a text. It was from Seonghwa, he hurriedly read it.

“The professor is late and I’m bored. Did you sleep well?”

Yeosang put down his chopsticks and typed back, “I think I had a nightmare.”

“You’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately. Are you stressed?”

He tried to think, there wasn’t really anything he could think of that was stressing him overly. School was going well, he was getting good grades. He now had a stable place to live with a roommate he got along well with. “I don’t think so.”

“I have to go, my professor is here. We’ll talk later.”

Yeosang brushed his thumb across the smiling picture of Seonghwa that was beside his text. Why was he suddenly so afraid he was going to lose him, that something was going to happen to him? His grandmother tended to go on about how you should always trust your gut and right now it seemed like his gut was screaming at him that something bad was going to happen and it seemed to revolve around Park Seonghwa.

Park Seonghwa was precious to him. He had a hard time getting to know people and Seonghwa was one of the very few people he had allowed himself to be close to. He couldn’t bear the thought of something bad happening to him, he was his dearest friend. What could he do?

***

A piece of silk bound his wrists, his body ached all over. He didn’t know how long he had been kept hovering on the edge, never enough to let him find release but always enough to keep him leaking and trembling. He could no longer think. Sweat soaked his hair to his head and ran in rivulets over his face, down over his chest. Precum pooled on his stomach.

A heated kiss found his lips and returned it with abject desperation. “Tell me what you want and I’ll let you cum.” His lover murmured against his lips. He couldn’t quite see his face, he was too close. He could feel his naked cock against his own as he leaned against him to kiss him.

Still he said nothing, he couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t tell him but he was dying, this was killing him. “Please…”

“Say it and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give it all to you. I want to hear you say it…” Again he felt the maddening caress of his fingers against the sensitive head of his cock.

“I can’t- ah! I can’t take it anymore.”

“You can have it all if you just say it. I won’t unless you tell me you want it.” There was a teasing, demanding note in his familiar voice. Soft but with a deep sonorous undertone to it.

As he reached the edge yet again, all of his muscles tightened and trembled violently. The sensation receded just enough for the pleasure he craved to fall away, he growled in frustration and finally he said it, “Fuck… me.”

He made a small sound of triumph and then he pulled the toy he had been teasing him with out and replaced it with the thickness of his beautiful cock. So much better than the toy he had been using, it was so hot. He fucked back against it as it filled him completely. It was far from the first time but this was the first time he made him say it.

His lover drew back enough to stare into his eyes as he fucked him. He knew those eyes, he knew them as well as his own. He melted into the feeling, letting it envelop and consume him.

“What do you want, tell me.”

“Cum inside me.” The last vestiges of his shame had burned away along with his resistance. All that existed now, all that mattered in the world was the man atop him and the delicious feeling of his cock inside of him as he used him, possessing him utterly. The feeling he had been fighting for all day rose again. This time he didn’t stop, his thrusts came harder and faster. With a raw and ravaged cry, Yeosang came. It felt like it would never end. It was so intense.

Seonghwa leaned back and pounded into him, his thrusts became erratic and he hilted himself. Yeosang could feel wave after wave of his seed filling him. Seonghwa offered him a crooked smile and leaned to kiss him, sucking his tongue and nipping his bottom lip.

Yeosang rocked against the cock still buried inside of him. He wanted more, he needed more. He reached down, finding wetness as he rubbed his hard cock through his pajama pants. Without opening his eyes, he shoved them down, grinding against the softness of his sheets. He could still feel that cock inside of him, those long fingers wrapped around his aching prick. “Seonghwa…” he whispered his name as he wrapped his fingers around himself. He didn’t take much. He barely managed to suppress a cry as he came.

It was only as he lay there panting, sticky and drenched in his own sweat and cum, that he realized exactly what he had dreamed and who had been fantasizing about. He sat bolt upright and looked around his room in a panic. Shit. He shook his head, it was a dream. It was just a dream and everyone knew that dreams were bullshit. It was just some nonsense that his sex deprived sleeping mind thought up. He couldn’t possibly be attracted to his roommate.

A flurry of images of the man assaulted him, when he had first met him and he had been wearing only a towel, the way his sensual lips parted as he spoke, the feeling of his wiry muscular body beneath his clothes as held him, even the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he drank. No. No, that just wasn’t possible. He wasn’t gay. He had always dated and had sex with girls and, and… No, he was just going to put it out of his head. He was going to get up, have a shower, have his breakfast and go about his day. He started to move and realized he had just cum all over his sheets. Okay, first he was going to change his sheets, then take a shower. This was nothing. It was just an overactive imagination. Dreams were rubbish, they didn’t mean anything. Yep. Everyone knew that. They didn’t mean anything. One night after some serious drinking, he remembered dreaming he was riding a piece of gimbap down a river of pudding while Jo In-Sung yodeled Fire by BTS. There obviously wasn’t any meaning behind that except that maybe he should drink less.

Okay, it was fine. He was fine. Just get up and get moving and put all of this out of his head.

With his sheets bundled in his arms, the stickiest parts balled in the center, Yeosang slowly opened his bedroom door and peeked out. He didn’t see Seonghwa, god Seonghwa. No he wasn’t going to think about that. He was just going to …

“Morning.” Seonghwa said as he padded down the hall from his bedroom. His hair was mussed and he ran a hand through it. How did he manage to look so sexy when just waking up. No! Not sexy, no. Good, he looked good. That was fine. Not sexy, definitely not sexy.

Yeosang’s eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Need some help with those?” Seonghwa reached out to take the sheets.

“NO!” Yeosang all but yelled.

Seonghwa jumped and just looked startled as he stared back, his hands still held halfway up.

“I mean, no. You don’t have to, I’m fine. I- I’ll just take them.”

They stood there in awkward and confused silence for several seconds until Yeosang cleared his throat and said hurriedly, “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He all but ran the rest of the way to the bathroom, leaving a very puzzled Seonghwa standing in the hallway.

Yeosang closed and locked the bathroom door and for a brief moment thought about pushing the dirty clothes hamper in front of the door but finally decided it was overkill. It wasn’t as if Seonghwa had ever made any sort of move on him and it wasn’t likely he was going to start now just because of Yeosang’s wet dream. Oh god why did it have to be Seonghwa he had a wet dream about and not just the dream but … No. Shit. Just stop thinking about it. He put his pajamas and the incriminating sheets into the washing machine and turned it on. Once he took a shower, all evidence of the previous night’s activities would be gone. No one would be the wiser and he could put it all behind him. In fifty years or so he might even be able to laugh about it … maybe sixty.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped beneath the shower and closed his eyes, letting the warm water wash his tension away. What was he getting so upset about? It was just a dream. He had dreamed far stranger things. Seonghwa was his best friend and his roommate and he hadn’t ever felt the need to jerk off to him before. It was just the dream, that was all it was. It had been over a year since he had a girlfriend and he was just pent up and his brain just picked the first person who came to mind. But … why did his dream choose to have Seonghwa fucking him instead of him fucking Seonghwa? It wasn’t as if he had ever had sex with a man before and certainly not being fucked. He could almost still remember what it felt like, the fullness, the heat, the way it felt when he came inside of him, the way it pulsed and throbbed.

Unconsciously, he grabbed at his now hard again cock. He gave a couple of light strokes before he realized what he was doing. He just really needed to get laid, that was obviously what it was. It wasn’t Park Seonghwa. It had nothing to do with Park Seonghwa.

He tried to keep his mind to the things he used to think about before but Seonghwa just kept creeping back in, the taste of his lips, the way his dark eyes had smoldered when he looked at him, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around him, the sound of his voice.

In frustration, he reached over and angrily switched the water to cold and yelped as it hit him. He stared at his cock, willing it to go down as he shivered in the cold. There was a knock on the door, “Are you alright?”

Yeosang shot a baleful glare at the door. Why did he have to be so caring now?! With supreme effort, he steadied his voice, “I’m fine. I just accidentally hit the knob and turned on the cold water.”

“Okay, I made breakfast. I’ve got to head to class now. I’ll probably be home a bit early.”

“Have a good day.”

“You too!” Seonghwa’s bright voice called back to him through the closed door.

With his teeth chattering, Yeosang turned the warm water back on and sighed in relief as his cock stayed down. Quickly he washed himself and his hair and got out of the shower. It was just as well that Seonghwa had already left because he forgot to bring clean clothes. Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Get ready for classes and don’t think about Park Seonghwa.

That would prove to be easier said than done. Why couldn’t one of them be a girl? He wasn’t even his soul mark…

Other stories can be found on my Master List.

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distantcowboysounds · 5 years ago

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Selfish Wishes

Warning: Contains semi-heavy topic (murder,death)

–

The midday sun shone through the stained glass windows, casting a colorful array of light down the long hallway. Soft footsteps sounded as Estlina walked with a purpose, her back straightened, head held high and decorated with her finest Altmer silks and jewels. Long white and copper hair was pulled into an immaculate tight bun decorated with thin braids and pearls. Estlina was dressed to meet the emperor and as she approached a large painted wooden door she felt the same anxiety one would before meeting someone of such importance. With a slight shake in her hand, she reached for the handle, taking one final deep breath to collect herself before she pushed the door open.

The room was an elegant tearoom decorated with beautiful tapestry and engravings running up the wooden pillars. Across the room from the door was a large window that stretched to the high ceiling. At the window stood a tall dunmer woman, the Nerevarine. The breath caught in Estlina’s throat as the woman turned to look at her, a smile dancing across her lips as she moved away from the window.

“Estlina, my sister, it has been far too long!” Her bewitching voice sounded the same as when Estlina had heard it years ago, as if time had found it perfect and left it as is.

Forcing a smile, Estlina moved into the room and embraced her younger sister. “Nivinor, I’ve missed you. It has been so long since you’ve been home.” Estlina gently pulled away from her sister. A warm expression played on Nivinor’s face as she looked down at Estlina, who mirrored the taller’s warmth.

Looking over her sister, Estlina noticed how much she has changed. Nivinor stood with elegance and strength she had never had before. Muscles in her arms had become more defined. Estlina even noticed several scars across her shoulder just barely showing underneath the sleeve of her gown. Although Nivinor now stood with the strength and confidence one would expect from a hero, her crimson eyes spoke of a different tale. There was an eternal sadness and exhaustion behind her smile. One that, like the muscles, she had never worn before. A flux of bliss coursed through Estlina as she made mental notes about her sister’s imperfections.

“Why don’t we sit? There’s already tea waiting, and I’m aching to hear how you’ve been these past years.” The words were coated in honey as Estlina spoke, hoping to ensnare her sister with them.

Nivinor gave a nod and moved to sit, gesturing to the exquisite tea set that sat waiting for them. “I brought the tea you like, the one with Tum'ja leaves from Elsweyr. I know how hard it is to get shipped to the Isles, but I also know how much you enjoy it.” The smile she wore was sweet, while Estlina’s was sour.

“That’s so kind of you to think of me, sister.” Estlina’s mind ran with annoyance; Nivinor thought she was something special, being able to travel around all of Tamriel and indulge in the luxuries of life. What made her so special? A couple of birthmarks? Some stupid false Dunmeri gods?

She seethed with hate for her younger sister as she drank the tea. All the while Nivinor sat with a smile on her face while her hands fiddled with the several rings that she wore. “How have you been Estlina? I’ve barely heard a word from you since I-” She paused with an awkward laugh. “Well since I was arrested.”

Estlina let her smile show, masking it with care for her sister. “Quite well my sister. I’ve been involved with some of the court goings-on and I was married just last month to a renowned Thalmor member. You may have heard of him? Vollas Alkinuseus.” There was no shame as Estlina bragged about her husband, nor was there any love in her words.

Nivinor only gently shook her head in response. “I can’t say I have, no. I suppose I’ve just been so caught up with Morrowind and House Telvanni. I’m so happy that you found someone. I just truly wish I could’ve come to the wedding. It would have been lovely for our new families to meet.”

Bitterness rose up in Estlina that she forced down with more of the sweet tea. “Is that so? Well, what about this new family of yours? Have you found yourself a husband?” She watched as her sister’s ears tinged red and she softly cleared her throat.

“Well, yes.” She paused for a moment, letting out a soft breath. “And a wife. They both are so lovely. I wish you could meet them but Batraza isn’t fond of,” she paused and gestured to the lavish room they occupied. “…all this, and Lazarron wanted to visit the mages market.” A gentle look overcame Nivinor as she spoke of her partners. Estlina had to hold back a grimace as she questioned how she was related to her.

“A man and a woman?” Nivinir nodded softly. “Did you say the one was named Batraza? That sounds orcish…. You married an orc?”

Nivinor let out a small chuckle. “Yes, we met some years ago. I was visiting His Highness Uriel Septim in Cyrodiil and she was my assigned bodyguard.” Estlina held back a gag as she watched her sisters pointed ears twitch excitedly as she spoke. She was supposed to be the Nerevarine and here she was twitching her ears like some child as she talked about an orc! Estlina wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Nivinor continued with a soft smile. “She asked to be my personal guard, and we got married a month after. Then we met Lazarron and he was just so sweet; told me he wanted to learn magic from me. I said yes and well, now I have two spouses.” She gestured to a silver ring she wore, a sweet expression playing on her face as she looked at the piece of metal.

“That… is interesting, my sister.” Estlina flexed her hands on the table, letting her own assortment of rings shine in the light. “I’m sure the elders would be so very approving of you marrying a female orc…”

Nivinor gave a soft shrug. “We married in Morrowind; mother’s family gave us the blessing. Things are different over there Estlina, other Dunmer don’t care who you marry or what they are as much as people do here. Either way, I want to hear about what you’ve been doing these past years.”

A true smile spread across Estlina’s lips before jumping into a surge of bragging about her life. All the while Nivinor sat across from her, smiling affectionately at her sister. Estlina talked for nearly an hour before she finally ran out of things to say. Orange rays of light now shone through the window, casting a fiery glow across the room. The tea had long emptied and Estlina noticed that Nivinor seemed to be playing with her rings more and more.

“I’m so happy that you’ve been doing so well, Estlina! You deserve the best, and I’m happy to see you receiving it.” Estlina felt her ego swell at the words. “I want to share something with you as well, something that I admittingly have wanted to say since you walked in.” Estlina hummed, feigning interest in what her sister had to share. “As I mentioned earlier, my new family, well-” A harsh knock at the door drew the sisters’ attentions.

A guttural voice called from behind the door. “Madam Estlina, I’m here on your earlier request.” Estlina felt a rush of adrenaline whirl through her chest as she called out her response.

“Ah yes, please do come in.” As soon as the words left her lips the door opened and in snuck a tall figure, shrouded in a dark cloak. Estlina watched from the corner of her eye as Nivinor shifted uncomfortably in her seat, obviously sensing the wrongness of the situation.

Their new guest closed the door behind them and as the door softly clicked shut, Estlina pounced. The table clattered to the ground, shattering the expensive porcelain tea sets, but that didn’t bother her. Nivinor’s chair hit the ground as Estlina’s fingers danced with magic. A strangled gasp came out of Nivinor’s mouth as she sent a bolt of electricity towards Estlina before desperately scrambling to the side. Estlina turned just before she was hit with the brunt force of the bolt, letting out a snarl as her head whipped back to her sister. Small waves of electricity flowed through her body.

“Estlina! B’vehk what are you doing?!” Nivinor’s voice sounded like glass as shock spread across her face.

Rage sparked inside of Estlina as flames licked across her fingers. “What I should have done long ago, you damn rat!” Poison dripped from her words as she shot a bolt of fire towards her sister. Nivinor rolled out of the way, right to the feet of the cloaked stranger. They took the opportunity to pounce and pin the woman down; Nivinor let out a strangled scream as she struggled against the stranger.

Magic sparked along the stranger’s hands and they held onto Nivinor’s wrists tightly, draining her magicka as the Dunmer struggled. “Hold her down! I want to be the one to do it.” A wicked grin worked its way onto Estlina’s face, her once immaculate hair now falling from its tight hold.

The stranger snapped their head towards the elven woman. “That is not the way of the Dark Brotherhood. You contracted us to kill her-”

Estlina snarled as her golden eyes shimmered with rage. “Xarxes’ backside! You don’t think I know that?! I want to do it; whatever amount of coin you want I’ll give you. But you are going to let me spill her blood.” A strangled cry came from Nivinor as she tried desperately to pull her hands free of the draining touch. Estlina laughed, mocking the Nerevarine’s struggles. “Not so all high and mighty are you? Finally, I can be free of you and your damned shadow!”

Confusion, fear, and shock. Estlina drank in the look Nivinor wore as tears began falling from the younger’s face. “Estlina, my sister wh-” The words were cut off by a shrill screech. Estlina smiled at the sound as she let zaps of electricity flow from her fingers and into Nivinor’s slender body. The woman let out a choked sob as she desperately tried to curl in on herself. “Please stop, you’re going to-” A harsh kick to her face stopped the sentence midway.

“I’m going to what? Kill you? Are you a fucking imbecile?! That’s exactly what I want to do!” Estlina glared into Nivinor’s crimson eyes; enjoying the sight of the mighty Nerevarine crumpled into a ball as tears and snot ran down her face. She was a far cry from the mighty women that stood before her just hours ago. Searching her eyes, Estlina was overjoyed to find that look of hurt in her eyes. She laughed as she looked towards the Brotherhood member. “Get off of her but do not stop holding her down, and make sure to keep draining her magicka.” They huffed in response as they moved from straddling the woman, allowing Estlina to stand over her.

She watched as Nivinor tried desperately to curl herself into the fetal position, letting out incoherent mumbles and sobs. Estlina laughed wildly as she kicked the woman’s legs away from her stomach and pulled a long dagger from the wrapping around her waist. She looked at the glinting blade, then looking over Nivinor’s pathetic form, her body shaking with adrenaline while she mentally prepared herself for what she was going to do.

Estlina bent down, sitting on her sister’s stomach and letting her magicka spill into the blade. Something murmured in the back of her mind as her magicka flowed, a soft thump. She shook it off, the blade in her hand now dancing with electricity. “Turn her head, I want her to look at me when I do it.” Estlina’s voice was dark. The Brotherhood member complied, now pinning the Dunmer women’s hands with their knees. Nivinor let out a whimper as she was forced by harsh hands to look at the woman she once called sister. Another thump. It startled Estlina, but her mind was set on one thing as she raised the blade above her head. Nivinor softly muttered her cries and pleas to deaf ears. Thump. Thump. Again, that thumping rang out in Estlina’s mind. Confusion washed over her face as she mentally searched for the source.

She looked at Nivinor, who sobbed softly as the tips of her fingers began to blacken from the extensive magicka draining. Thump. Thump. The beating was now rhythmic, like a heartbeat. Estlina’s eyes looked at Nivinor’s chest as it raised and shrunk rapidly, it couldn’t have been hers but the beat resonated from Nivinor.

Estlina’s eyes widen as the realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. She quickly pushed herself from the woman’s stomach as her shaking hands let the electrified blade drop to the ground with a harsh clatter. Her body shook as she gently sat her hands onto Nivinor’s stomach, using her magicka to feel the soft beat. A heartbeat. She looked at the other women with a mix of fear and regret. “You… you’re pregnant…” The words slipped from Estlina’s lips. Nivinor shook in fear, softly mouthing her response. Yes.

All at once, Estlina felt her senses return to her at once as she stood. She felt sick as her mind ran as she realized what she was trying to do, how her bitterness had blinded her. Her hands shook violently while she looked at her sister, her sister who had come all this way to see her, who had written to her for years, the sister who has looked up to her all her life. The sister she just tried to murder.

“I see there’s a change of plans. I’m still obligated to finish this contract you know.” The Brotherhood member spoke flatly as they produced a dagger and held it to Nivinor’s throat.

“NO!” Estlina screamed harshly, instinctively letting her magicka flow; sending a spike of ice through the assassin. They let out a wet gurgling sound as blood pooled from their mouth, before falling to the side and releasing Nivinor from their draining grip.

Estlina rushed to her sister’s aid, hands fluttering around her before landing on her arm. Nivinor pulled away harshly, the fear on her face replaced with hurt and anger. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” Her crimson eyes burned with pain as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me. You contracted the fucking Dark Brotherhood to kill me! WHY?! Because you were jealous of me? Estlina I looked up to you; I wanted you to be proud of me. I never wanted to be better than you.” Tears flowed freely from Nivinors eyes as she shook with anger, reaching to hold her head in her hands, fingers raking through her white hair. “I thought it was over, I thought I was done with Nerevar’s life.” Her voice shook as she choked back a sob. “YOU ARE NO DIFFERENT THAN THE TRIBUNAL!”

Estlina backed away from her sister, her mind raced with words but nothing would come out. She watched silently as Nivinor sobbed and slowly rose to her feet, gently holding her stomach. She walked to the door and stopped, her hand on the knob.

“Nivinor, I’m sor-”

“Enough.” Nivinor’s voice had lost the kindness it once held for Estlina. She turned to look at her, rage and anguish written clearly on her face. “You have not a fucking clue what you have done. The Dark Brotherhood won’t stop until I’m dead. You have single-handedly endangered the rest of my damn life, sorry doesn’t fix what you’ve done. If you ever try to contact me for my family, I won’t falter to end you. I’m not your sister anymore and I will never treat you as such for the rest of my life.” She gripped the knob tightly, looking away. “Goodbye, Estlina.” And with that, Nivinor opened the door and left. Estlina sat on the floor for a moment, letting the words sink in before she let the first tear fall from her face. She had gotten her wish: she had killed her sister, and would never get her back.

#morrowind #nerevarine #tes #tes3 #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #dark elf #dunmer #writers #oc writing #writing #oc: nivinor taharondre

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iincantatorum · 5 years ago

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𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂.

𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Delia Edition!

i picked delia for this because she is immortal and faced all these eras, even the medieval period she would be around the later times of the era && i would really love to portray her in all of these time periods and how the aesthetics have transferred to the modern periods

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋.

tired eyes. coffee stains on the table. listening to the bustle of the city. unmade beds. loose ponytails. sunlight seeping through the curtains. chapped lips. walking barefoot across the floorboards. dusty dictionaries. black and white reruns. huge sweaters. the ticking of the clock. hearing birds in the morning. fireplaces. falling asleep during class.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

freckles. the sun rising. watching the sea. taking shots of the city. historical museums. bright eyes. looking up at the clouds. walls covered in artworks. drawing in the middle of lessons. tracing your fingers on the sand. painting for hours. staying in uncrowded coffee-shops. worn paperbacks. messy braids. going to bed with your kneesocks on.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐐𝐔𝐄.

dark hair. a little sophisticated. always observing the world around you. intricate designs. high ceilings. extravagant musical pieces. dim lights. colorless photographs. fancy furniture. pale skin. hearing soft footfalls coming from outside the room. mischievous looks. bitten nails. candlelight dinners. dark shades of lipstick.

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋.

chandeliers. the clinking of a teacup mug. laced clothing. modern architecture. light hair. watching the view from the terrace. hidden birthmarks. drinking tea in the morning. wandering about in an empty building. botanical gardens. old films. ancient marble sculptures. expensive perfume. breakfasts in bed. reading about mythology.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂.

compassion. short writings on scraps of paper. blushed cheeks. a bouquet of roses. reading collections of poetry late at night. loose hair. carpeted floors. attending operas. faint music playing in the background. staying under the covers until midday. the night sky. streetlights. picking flowers. dancing around in silk dresses. scented candles.

tagged by: @deamonical

tagging: @survivics @xxsacrificiumxx @drew-a-tanaka @qceensofkings @thewhitepoison @thevictoryofthepeople @exorcistofgrace @fridge-o-mancer @gretaphasmatosmartin @a-kitten-with-claws @pantslessoptimism @titanofthemoon @legendmade @dominionovershadows @voxvulgi @ofstrangevariety @thecatgoddessbast @roguishlydangerous @lady-llewellyn @misfitxbeggars @rennisaturate @thc-wrong-side-of-heaven @adsagsona @crew-from-capulet @behindicyblueeyes @laverginedegliangeli @misfitxbeggars @venavinovenor @deamonical @deadxpretty & anyone else who wants to!

#delia; musings

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thornyrose463 · 5 years ago

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The Transfers (Riverdale one-shot)

This is a Riverdale (CW TV show) one-shot. The gifs are not mine. I found them here on tumblr. All credit goes to the rightful owners.

I would like to thank @amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines for making an Instagram profile for my original character Hannah Pearson.

Summary: Hannah Pearson is a member of the Southside Serpents and Sweet Pea's girlfriend. After Southside High shuts down, she transfers to Riverdale High with the other Serpents.

Rating: T

Warning: Swearing and mild sexual content

Cast

Cole Sprouse as Jughead Jones

Vanessa Morgan as Toni Topaz

Jordan Connor as Sweet Pea

Willa Holland as Hannah Pearson

Drew Ray Tanner as Fangs Fogarty

Camila Mendes as Veronica Lodge

KJ Apa as Archie Andrews

Madelaine Petsch as Cheryl Blossom

Charles Melton as Reggie Mantle

Lili Reinhart as Betty Cooper

Skeet Ulrich as FP Jones

Danielle Campbell as Emma Walker

Author's note

This one-shot is set in an alternate universe where Jughead didn't break up with Betty after she did the Serpent dance, Jughead and Toni never kissed, the Black Hood got Betty to choose his victims but didn't make her end her relationship with Jughead and her friendship with Veronica, Archie and Veronica didn't break up and Veronica didn't start dating Reggie, Alice, Polly, Cheryl, Kevin, Toni, Fangs, and Principal Weatherbee never joined the Farm, the Farm never kidnapped Betty, Toni, Cheryl, and Fangs were never kicked out of the Serpents, the Pretty Poisons don't exist, Toni and Cheryl didn't break up, Jughead and the rest of the Serpents didn't start playing Gryphons and Gargoyles, FP and Alice never dated or had an affair, the Stonewall Prep storyline never happened, and Principal Honey was never hired.

On the Heathers casting sheet, which you can find on Riverdale showrunner Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa's Twitter page, Sweet Pea wrote the initials NM, and Fangs wrote the initials FF. Based on that, we can assume Sweet Pea's first name starts with the letter N and his last name starts with the letter M and Fangs' first name and last name start with the letter F. I chose the name Nathan Montgomery for Sweet Pea and the name Francis Fogarty for Fangs.

Jughead Jones led Toni Topaz, Sweet Pea, Hannah Pearson, Fangs Fogarty, and the rest of the Southside Serpents through the doors of Riverdale High School. Sweet Pea gripped Hannah's hand tightly as they walked down the hallway. Toni and Fangs walked beside Sweet Pea and Hannah, glaring at anyone who looked at them the wrong way.

The Serpents stopped walking when they saw the table that Veronica Lodge, her boyfriend, Archie Andrews, and Kevin Keller were standing behind.

Veronica smiled. "Friends! On behalf of the students and faculty here at Riverdale High, welcome to your new school! To ease this transition, I've set up a registration desk, where you can get your locker assignments, class schedules, and a list of sports and extracurriculars. We encourage each and every one of you to drink deeply from the cup that is fair Riverdale."

"Stand down, Eva Perón!" Cheryl Blossom yelled, walking down the stairs, followed by Reggie Mantle and a group of girls in blue and gold cheerleading uniforms.

Veronica sighed and looked at Jughead before facing Cheryl.

"There's the school spirit I so fondly remember," Jughead said sarcastically.

"Cheryl." Veronica acknowledged, glaring at the redheaded girl. "No one invited Fascist Barbie to the party."

"Wrong, Veronica. No one invited Southside scum to our school." Cheryl said, crossing her arms over her chest.

The Serpents tensed.

"Listen up, ragamuffins!" Cheryl yelled.

"Ragamuffins? What kind of insult is that?" Hannah asked.

Hannah was tall and slender. Her long brown hair was parted in the middle and styled in loose curls. She was wearing an unzipped black leather jacket with the Southside Serpents symbol on the back, an unbuttoned long-sleeved green and white plaid flannel shirt over a white tank top, dark blue denim jeans, and black combat boots with black laces. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour. She had a double-headed snake tattoo on her left arm, but it couldn't be seen underneath her jacket. She didn't have any other tattoos besides her Serpent tattoo. She didn't have any scars or birthmarks. She didn't have any piercings.

Hannah was 16 years old. She joined the Serpents when she was 15. She did her Serpent dance to Warrant's song Cherry Pie. She lost her virginity to a guy her age one night at a party shortly after she joined the Serpents. They weren't romantically involved. It was just a hookup, nothing more. At some point, she and Sweet Pea realized they were attracted to one another and started dating.

Cheryl looked at Hannah with raised eyebrows and then started speaking again. "I will not allow Riverdale High's above average GPA to suffer because of classrooms that are overcrowded with underachievers, so please do us all a favour and find some other school to debase with your hard-scrabble ways." She looked the Serpents up and down with a fake smile on her cherry red lips and held her hands together in front of her.

"Why don't you come over here and say that to my face?" Toni asked angrily, moving towards Cheryl. Jughead, Sweet Pea, Hannah, and Fangs followed her, ready to fight.

Cheryl got in Toni's face. "Happily, Queen of the Buskers."

"She is just asking to get her ass kicked," Hannah muttered to Sweet Pea. She was about to lunge at Cheryl, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Okay, guys, can we just put our differences aside and start over?" Archie stood in between Toni and Cheryl. Hannah's gaze went from being focused on Cheryl to being focused on him. "A clean slate?" He looked between Cheryl and the Serpents.

"You don't speak for the Bulldogs, Andrews, and need I remind you that these greaser snakes showed up at your place trying to kick your ass," Reggie said, giving Archie a pointed look.

"Happy to finish what we started." Sweet Pea threatened, shoving past Toni and moving towards Reggie. He stopped in his tracks when he felt Fangs and Jughead's arms hold him back.

Veronica stood in between Reggie and Sweet Pea, putting a hand on Sweet Pea's left arm. "I'm so over the toxic masculinity in this hallway right now," she said loudly, her voice full of annoyance.

"All right, that's enough pomp and circumstance! Everyone, get to class now!" Principal Weatherbee yelled.

Reggie backed off.

Veronica took her hand off of Sweet Pea's arm. He began to walk towards the staircase. Jughead shoved him, causing him to pick up the pace. He could make out the rustling of papers as he and the rest of the Serpents walked down the hallway.

"Stupid Northsiders," Sweet Pea grumbled.

"It's okay, babe. Everything will get better." Hannah said, rubbing Sweet Pea's arm and getting him to calm down. "And if it doesn't, we'll just kick their asses," she added. He laughed.

Hannah walked into the math classroom. Math was her last class of the day. Once the clock struck 3, she would be able to get on her motorcycle and go back to her trailer.

None of the other Serpents had math at this time of day besides Jughead, who was sitting next to a girl with fair skin, blue eyes, and long straight blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail wearing a white t-shirt, an unbuttoned pink cardigan, dark blue denim jeans, and beige ankle-length boots.

The girl was named Elizabeth Cooper. She was Jughead's girlfriend. Hannah met her at FP's retirement party. She was as sweet as apple pie and was one of the few Northsiders Hannah could stand to be around.

Hannah sat on the other side of Jughead and smiled at Betty. "Hey, Betty."

Betty smiled back. "Hey, Hannah."

The teacher wrote an equation on the whiteboard and explained it to the class.

Hannah listened intently while writing in her notebook. Despite what people like Cheryl and Reggie may think, she was actually pretty smart and cared about getting an education.

The clock struck 3, and Hannah left the classroom and walked out to the parking lot. She got on her motorcycle and drove to her trailer.

Betty laid in her bed, cell phone in hand, browsing Instagram. The name Hannah Pearson showed up in the list of suggested followers. She tapped on Hannah's profile picture and checked out her profile. Hannah had 99 posts and 85 followers and was following 100 people. At the top of the page, there were pictures of Hannah, a picture of Hannah's black Honda CB550 motorcycle, and a picture of the outside of the Whyte Wyrm.

Betty scrolled down the page and saw a close-up of the Serpent tattoo on Hannah's left arm, pictures of Hannah and Sweet Pea, and pictures of Hannah, Toni, and Fangs. She couldn't help but smile at how cute Hannah and Sweet Pea were together and how close Hannah and her friends were.

Betty hit the follow button. A few minutes later, she got a notification saying that Hannah had followed her.

A few weeks had passed since the Serpents transferred to Riverdale High. The Bulldogs and the Serpents had been in their fair share of fights, and Principal Weatherbee had banned the Serpents from wearing their leather jackets and showing their tattoos. Sweet Pea had to wear a turtleneck in order to cover his tattoo, much to the amusement of the rest of the Serpents.

Hannah was talking to Fangs in the student lounge. She stifled a laugh as Sweet Pea walked in. "You look great, babe."

Fangs turned around and burst into laughter.

Sweet Pea was wearing a white turtleneck underneath an unbuttoned blue and white plaid flannel shirt with long sleeves, dark blue denim jeans, and black combat boots with black laces.

"Shut the fuck up," Sweet Pea grumbled, making his way over to Hannah.

Hannah tried to conceal her smile. "It suits you."

Hannah was wearing a grey tank top underneath an unbuttoned red and grey plaid flannel shirt with long sleeves, dark blue denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots with silver studs on the buckles. Her long brown hair was styled in loose curls. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour.

Fangs smiled. "Yeah. It...Um…It brings out the colour of your eyes."

Sweet Pea shoved Fangs.

"It's really not that bad. I've seen Fangs wear much worse." Hannah said.

"Hey!" Fangs exclaimed, offended.

Hannah kissed Sweet Pea. "You would look good in anything, I promise."

"Thanks, but that doesn't make me feel any better." Sweet Pea said.

"Are you guys busy tonight?" Fangs asked.

Sweet Pea shook his head. "No."

"Do you want to go see Love, Simon at the Bijou with me?" Fangs asked.

"I was going to invite Toni, but she's too busy trying to get with Cheryl Bombshell." Fangs rolled his eyes.

"Sounds like fun. We'll be there." Hannah told Fangs.

That night, Sweet Pea, Hannah, and Fangs arrived at the Bijou in Sweet Pea's truck. Sweet Pea held Hannah's hand as they walked in and found their seats.

Fangs nudged Sweet Pea and Hannah. "Guys, look."

Sweet Pea and Hannah turned around.

Toni was sitting next to Cheryl. She made a flirtatious comment, causing Cheryl to blush.

Hannah smiled. "Aww, how cute!"

Cheryl and Toni became a couple a few weeks after their date.

Principal Weatherbee lifted the ban on Serpent jackets and Serpent tattoos, and the Serpents started wearing their jackets to school again.

Betty and Jughead lost their virginity.

Hannah stood beside Sweet Pea, laughing at something stupid he had said. Fangs was on the other side of him. Jughead was in front of them. She looked around the park and saw Cheryl standing next to Toni and laughing. She smiled.

Jughead's father, FP Jones, whistled, getting the attention of the Serpents.

"Listen up, now! All right, listen up!" FP yelled.

"Some 60 years ago, the very first Serpent meeting took place on these same riverbanks. Now, it makes sense that this is where we gather now, where I…Where I say my goodbye. Jughead, would you step up here, son?" FP asked.

The crowd started muttering.

"What the fuck is going on?" Hannah whispered to Sweet Pea.

Hannah was wearing her black leather jacket with the Southside Serpents symbol on the back, an unbuttoned long-sleeved blue and black plaid flannel shirt over a black tank top, dark blue denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots with silver studs on the buckles. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour. Her hair was straight.

"I have no idea. To be honest, I thought we came here to get drunk and celebrate how far we've come." Sweet Pea said.

Hannah laughed.

Jughead walked towards FP.

"What are you doing?" Jughead mumbled.

"What I should have done a long time ago," FP muttered.

"I'm retiring from the Serpents." FP announced. The muttering got louder. "For real this time."

FP put his arm around Jughead's shoulder. "Now, my boy has never stopped fighting for this crew. Hell, he almost died for it." He turned to face his son. "That's why I'm giving you the mantle."

The crowd cheered. Sweet Pea hit Fangs, making him wince.

"And now, as your first official duty as Serpent King…" FP nodded to Toni, who made her way towards FP and Jughead and handed FP a red leather jacket with the Southside Serpents symbol on the back.

"I think you know what to do with this." FP handed the jacket to his son. Jughead smiled.

"All right, all right," Jughead muttered. "All I can say is…I love you, Dad. And the Serpents will not die out. Not on my watch."

The crowd cheered.

Cheryl walked towards Jughead, and they smiled at each other as he gave her the red leather jacket.

"Welcome to the Serpents, Cheryl." Hannah said.

Cheryl smiled at Hannah before making her way over to Toni and kissing her.

"One more thing." Jughead pulled out his cell phone. "We have a new Serpent Queen." He called Betty.

Fangs started dating a girl named Emma Walker.

Emma was a Northsider. She was on the cheerleading squad with Betty, Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni. There were no other Serpents on the cheerleading squad besides Toni.

Jughead finished writing Anatomy of a Murder, his book on Jason Blossom's death and the effect it had on the people of Riverdale. It made it to the top of the New York Times Best Seller list.

After their lunch date at Pop's, Sweet Pea and Hannah went back to his trailer.

Hannah walked into Sweet Pea's bedroom. Sweet Pea followed her. He shut the door.

Hannah took off her black combat boots, dark blue denim jeans, black t-shirt, and Serpent jacket, leaving her in just her black lingerie.

Sweet Pea left a trail of kisses on the side of Hannah's neck, rubbing his hands up and down her legs. Hannah groaned in pleasure, taking off Sweet Pea's clothes, leaving him in just his boxers.

Hannah straddled Sweet Pea's body as they laid on top of the bed. She kissed down his body, creeping closer to his boxers. Sweet Pea flipped them over so that he was on top. The two kissed each other all over as they made love.

Sweet Pea and Hannah collapsed on the bed next to each other.

"You up for round 2?" Sweet Pea asked.

Hannah rolled on top of Sweet Pea. "Definitely."

At the beginning of junior year, Hal and Alice got divorced, Emma and Fangs lost their virginity, Hiram and Hermione got divorced, FP became the sheriff of Riverdale, Veronica opened a speakeasy in the basement of Pop's, Cheryl lost her virginity to Toni, Hal and Hiram were sentenced to life in prison, Alice and FP's son, Charles Smith, shut down the Farm, Hermione got people to stop playing Gryphons and Gargoyles, burned every single copy of the player's handbook, and arrested the Gargoyle Gang, Gladys and Jellybean moved back to Toledo, Fangs' mother succumbed to her illness, Toni's grandfather died of old age, and Pop Tate died of old age.

After the fall of the Gargoyle Gang, a new gang arrived in Riverdale. They were called the Scorpions. Each member wore a black leather jacket with a big red scorpion on the back. They dealt drugs and street raced for sport, just like the Ghoulies had.

The Serpents and the Scorpions were enemies.

At the beginning of senior year, Fred died in a hit-and-run accident after stopping alongside the road to help a stranded motorist.

Friday, June 21, 2019

It was the night of the senior prom.

The dance was being held at the Five Seasons.

Veronica, Betty, Cheryl, Hannah, and Emma had gotten ready for the dance at Betty's house.

The limo Veronica had rented pulled into Betty's driveway.

Archie, Jughead, Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs stepped out of the limo and stood in the driveway, waiting for Veronica, Betty, Cheryl, Hannah, and Emma to step out of the house.

Archie was wearing a black suit, a white dress shirt, a black necktie, and black dress shoes with black laces.

Jughead was wearing a black suit, a white dress shirt, a black necktie, and black dress shoes with black laces. His beanie rested on top of his head.

Toni was wearing black high-heeled sandals and a strapless black dress with a floor-length skirt. The sweetheart neckline showed a hint of cleavage. Her long brown hair with pink highlights was styled in loose curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a light shade of berry pink.

Sweet Pea was wearing a black suit, a white dress shirt, a black necktie, and black dress shoes with black laces. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone. His Serpent tattoo was on full display.

Fangs was wearing a black suit, a white dress shirt, a black necktie, and black dress shoes with black laces.

Archie's jaw dropped when he saw Veronica walking towards him. "Wow. You look stunning."

Veronica was wearing navy blue high-heeled sandals and a navy blue floor-length dress. It was strapless and had a sweetheart neckline. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. The top was folded pieces of soft fabric, and the bottom billowed when she walked, giving her the appearance that she was flying. A small silver chain with a tiny diamond hung low on her chest. Her shoulder-length wavy black hair was in an elegant updo, leaving her neck bare. Her brown eyes were framed by long dark lashes, her lips were plum and shiny, and her cheeks were rosy.

Veronica smiled and gave Archie a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Archie."

Archie walked towards the limo. Veronica walked beside him. He held the door open and took her by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

Jughead's jaw dropped when he saw Betty walking towards him. "Wow. You look incredible."

Betty was wearing pale pink high-heeled sandals and a pale pink dress with a floor-length skirt and a sweetheart neckline that turned into off-the-shoulder sleeves. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. A small silver chain with a tiny diamond hung low on her chest. Her long blonde hair was styled in barrel curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft pink eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.

Betty smiled and gave Jughead a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Jughead."

Jughead walked towards the limo. Betty walked beside him. He held the door open and took her by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

Toni's jaw dropped when she saw Cheryl walking towards her. "Wow. You look beautiful."

Cheryl was wearing red high-heeled sandals and a red dress with spaghetti straps, a v-neck, and a floor-length skirt with a slit in the right side that reached the middle of the thigh and revealed her right leg. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. A small silver chain with a tiny diamond hung low on her chest. Her long red hair was styled in barrel curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft pink eyeshadow. Her lips were cherry red.

Cheryl smiled and gave Toni a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Toni."

Toni and Cheryl walked towards the limo. Toni held the door open and took Cheryl by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

When Sweet Pea saw Hannah walking towards him, his jaw dropped. "Wow. You look amazing."

Hannah was wearing green high-heeled sandals and a green dress with a v-neck, two spaghetti straps criss-crossing over the open back, and a floor-length skirt. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. The sides of the dress were cut out, exposing a teasing fraction of skin. Her Serpent tattoo was on full display. Her long brown hair was styled in loose curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour.

Hannah smiled and gave Sweet Pea a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Sweet Pea."

Sweet Pea walked towards the limo. Hannah walked beside him. He held the door open and took her by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

When Fangs saw Emma walking towards him, his jaw dropped. "Wow. You look gorgeous."

Emma was tall and slender with fair skin and blue eyes. She was wearing lavender high-heeled sandals and a strapless lavender dress with a sweetheart neckline, an open back, and a floor-length skirt that flared at the hips with a small train. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. Her long brown hair was styled in barrel curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft pink eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty coral pink colour.

Emma smiled and gave Fangs a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Fangs."

Fangs walked towards the limo. Emma walked beside him. He held the door open and took her by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

The limo drove down the road.

Riverdale High School

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

2:00 p.m.

It was graduation day.

The ceremony was being held in the auditorium. The graduates were sitting in the first row. They were clad in blue graduation gowns and blue graduation caps with gold tassels. The guests were sitting a little farther back.

Betty was the valedictorian. She walked up to the podium and gave a speech.

"Have you ever read a good book or a good story, and when you're on the final chapter and the final page, you feel a sadness you can't explain?"

"Sometimes, if you're lucky, the story or book will have an epilogue or a sequel. I stand here before you, my fellow graduates, to tell you that although this chapter in our lives has ended, the story is far from over."

"We are all still so young. We have time to fall in and out of love and to make mistakes. We still have the opportunity to fail and succeed and to change our minds like we change our clothes. There are tears of sadness running down some of your faces. Why? This isn't the end. This is the beginning of something amazing."

"For some of you, maybe it's college. Maybe it's your dream job. Maybe it's getting married and starting a family. Or maybe it's finally accepting who you are and not being afraid of who you could turn out to be."

"Just promise me one thing. Don't forget what these past few years have brought to your life. Don't forget about the people that taught you all about friendship, bravery, and courage. Don't forget about the smiles and frowns, the laughter and tears, and the breakups and makeups. Don't run from your mistakes. Learn from them and embrace them. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I can't think of a group of people that deserve it more."

Thunderous applause followed Betty's speech.

Betty returned to her seat.

Principal Weatherbee announced that diplomas were going to be handed out. He started calling names.

"Archibald Andrews."

Archie made his way towards the stage. He shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking his diploma back to his seat.

A few more names were called.

"Cheryl Blossom."

Cheryl made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Elizabeth Cooper."

Betty made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Francis Fogarty."

Fangs made his way towards the stage. He shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking his diploma back to his seat.

A few more names were called.

"Forsythe Pendleton Jones III."

Jughead made his way towards the stage. He shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking his diploma back to his seat.

A few more names were called.

"Veronica Lodge."

Veronica made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Nathan Montgomery."

Sweet Pea made his way towards the stage. He shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking his diploma back to his seat.

A few more names were called.

"Hannah Pearson."

Hannah made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Antoinette Topaz."

Toni made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Emma Walker."

Emma was the last to graduate. She made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

Principal Weatherbee addressed the crowd. "Everyone, please rise."

The crowd stood up.

Principal Weatherbee turned to the graduates and said, "Graduates, please move your tassels from right to left."

The graduates did as they were told.

"Congratulations to the Riverdale High School class of 2019!" Principal Weatherbee exclaimed.

The graduates threw their caps in the air.

THE END

#fanfiction

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 6 years ago

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10,800

A/N: Kicking off the Nick Smooches with this one! This is not connected to Made Man and is a stand alone one shot. Listen to “Tick of the Clock” by Chromatics if you want to add to the drama. 11 down, 8 to go! (plus a bonus smooch you didn’t even think was coming but super is.)

Warning: Language, violence, blood

Word Count: 2,082

Prompt from: @gollyderek

Rhythmic and steady, the clock counted the seconds. The A.C. unit kicked on in the window on the far wall, two tattered ribbons fluttering before the vent adding to the soundtrack of his absence. You’d paced for the first few thousand seconds, stared into the greenish blue depths of the fish tank for another few hundred. He’ll be back. He promised. In the kitchen you’d busied your hands with making yourself a tea that you knew you wouldn’t drink, and you watched the swirls of steam dance and disappear. An abrupt bang from outside drew your attention, and the tea bag string fell into the mug as you set it on the counter, the white braid absorbing the dark brown liquid the way you want to be absorbed by his arms. Pulling the curtain aside, you found the source of the sound; your neighbor’s teenage son had taken to lifting weights in the garage, and with each lift he’d made it a point to drop the heavy barbells onto the rubberized flooring. Scrawny little thing, making all that noise. Turning back to the clock you noted that an hour had passed. The bang wasn’t a gunshot, but somehow that didn’t set your mind at ease at all. He’ll be back… he will.

Your fingers found the thick gold chain around your neck, nails sliding along the links to add a metallic clanking to the empty room. Wrapping around the crucifix that hung from it, you squeezed your fist closed until you felt its edges digging into your palm. Sinking into the couch you shut your eyes and could feel his lips pressed to the side of your face as he draped the necklace around you, could feel his hand cradle the back of your head as he asked you to hold it for him until he got back. Nick… I don’t want your chain...I want you…

.. .. .. .. .. .. ..

“You don’t have to do this, Nick…” your voice was low and shaky, dropping to a whisper. “Please don’t do this.” You licked a tear that had slipped down to your lips as he pulled back, lifting your hair gently over the chain and tucking it against your chest.

The hand that was behind your head came around to your cheek, thumb sweeping another tear before it had a chance to make it to your mouth. He blinked slowly at you, eyes narrowed slightly when they reopened, and you focused on the birthmark below the right one, reaching to run your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I do. I gotta do this.” He kissed your forehead before moving his fingers to tilt your chin up. “They threatened you, and I can’t have that. They know your name. Where you live...they know you’re the only thing that can hurt me now and they won’t stop...so I gotta stop ‘em.”

“Nick, I can’t lose you,” you swallowed, throat dry as the words creaked against your vocal chords. The sun had set outside and the lamps were coming to life, throwing rosy light through the faded purple curtains, and as soft as the scene looked to an outside eye, your stomach twisted anxiously knowing that the brighter those lamps got, the less time you’d be able to keep him there with you. I can’t change his mind. He’s gonna go out there. He’s gonna… “Nick, you gotta promise me I won’t lose you. You gotta promise me you’ll come back to me.”

He gripped both sides of your face then, fingers sliding along your jaw and up behind your ear. “I promise.” The tone he took made you want to believe anything that he told you, and you needed to believe him now. “I promise. I’m gonna finish this. I’m not gonna let them get to you. I’m gonna come back to you… I love you.” He pulled you against his body then, arms coming around you with more strength than he looked capable of, crushing you to him as the confession hung in the air.

You felt his heart beating against your cheek as yours came to a full stop. “I love you too, Nick.” Mascara bled from your lashes to stain his white tee. “I’m gonna hold you to that promise, okay?” You flattened your hands on his shoulder blades, pressing him closer.

“Yeah. Good. Hold me to it.” He kept you in his arms like that for a few seconds. You felt his chin move atop your head as he turned to look at the clock.

You squeezed more tightly, but the tighter you held him the weaker you felt. He’s gonna tell me he has to go now. He’s gonna tell me to sit tight and he’ll be back…

“Hey,” your weakness overtook you then and your arms dropped, feeling heavy. He slid his hands down your limp arms to grip yours. “I have to go now, okay?”

You shook your head from side to side. No, it’s not okay. “I know.” But I don’t want you to.

“Okay. Listen. You stay right here. I’m gonna go take care of this...end it. And I’m comin’ right back to you. Few hours, I’ll be right here.”

“Okay…” you didn’t sound like yourself. “Okay, Nick. Be careful, okay?” You yanked a hand from his to wipe at your eyes. “I love you, okay? So...so be careful.”

“Always careful,” he winked before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, and then he was gone too quickly.

The door opened and shut and you were left standing in the now darkened room, alone with the tick of the clock as your heart began thudding uncomfortably. You’d been wanting to tell Nick how you felt about him for weeks, and now that you finally had you feared you’d never get a chance to say it again. He promised…

.. .. .. .. .. .. ..

Pulling your legs up onto the worn couch, you recalled the first time he told you about his involvement with the Mafia, the guarded expression in his eyes, the uncertain way his brows came together, wrinkling his forehead. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Nicky,” you’d answered, having gathered as much from the way he carried himself, the things he’d mentioned, the hours he kept. He’d promised you then, too, that he’d always do what he had to do to keep you safe, keep you away from the reaches of his work, from the hands that pulled the strings and the fingers that pulled the triggers, and you believed that it would be that simple. You took days and hours, minutes and seconds for granted then. You both had, until things went to hell in a fucking hand-basket when Nick pissed off the wrong people.

You’d gotten a letter, the envelope blank with no postage, and you’d waited to open it until he arrived. The page inside was collaged with cut out letters from magazines, some in blocked font, some in curling script. Some letters were bold and black, others a playful shade of pink or blue or yellow. But there was nothing playful about the message, or the way it darkened Nick’s eyes when he read it, one arm tightening around you protectively. “She’s a pretty girl, Nick. Shame if something happened.”

“Let’s just go, Nicky, okay? Let’s...we’ll leave.” You pleaded with him to run, to run away with you and away from the threats and the danger. But even as you begged, you knew what his answer would be.

“No. No one threatens you. No one gets to do this. We’re not goin’ anywhere.”

That had been about a week ago, and he’d made sure to keep a close eye on you, only leaving your side when he had to, and making sure that all the locks on your windows and doors were secure. He’d been working to gather enough information on the whereabouts of certain mob members so he could put them down and now he finally had his chance.

The clock chimed as the second hour ticked away, and as a chill ran down your spine the A.C. faltered and stopped, the metronomic beat of the second hand the only sound left in the room. You watched it shudder and shake with each lost second, watched another thousand pass, heard another bang of the McNamara kid’s barbells. You thought briefly about heating up the tea you’d made, but the thought of drinking it turned your stomach so you stayed rooted to your seat. Headlights shone in through the windows as a car pulled in next door, lighting the walls and throwing long shadows across the carpet. How much longer, Nick?

The hours of the day were growing thin, only another thousand seconds until midnight struck and the probability of his promise fell to pieces. You’d lived in this neighborhood long enough to know that nothing good happened after twelve, and Nick was the only good thing you had. You paced again, left foot on the tick, right foot on the tock. 3 hours. 180 minutes. 10,800 seconds.

Another sudden sound from outside forced your head to spin. It wasn’t Bobby’s barbells or a barking dog. It was the scraping of boot soles against a gravely street in desperate need of repaving. You flew back to the window and your breath evacuated your lungs at the sight of him. Nick. He was walking slowly, one hand clutching his side, high up near his ribs, and in the halo of light from the streetlamp you could make out the dark red glisten of blood between his fingers. Oh, Nick… You ran to the door, throwing all the locks and bolts open, and stumbled shoe-less out into the night, lungs burning and legs turning over as fast as you could make them to get to him sooner.

“Nick!” You cried out his name as your socked feet hit the rocky pavement. He looked up at the sound of your voice, face pale but eyes locked steadily onto yours.

“Hey,” he gasped. “Hey I told ya I’d be back soon.”

You reached for him then, one hand sliding against his cheek as he gripped your wrist, the other matching his on his side, warm blood covering your palm as you helped him apply pressure. “Nick...are you...what happened...are you…” you didn’t know what you were asking but you were desperate for his answer.

He shook his head. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” Looking down to where both of your hands were gripping his wound, he continued. “Just grazed. Hurts like a mothafucker, but…” he looked back up to you, his hand falling from your wrist to your face. “But it's over. It’s done. You’re safe… I told ya... I promised.”

Relief flooded your veins making you feel drunk and dizzy. You hated the fact that he’d gotten hurt, but more than that you loved the fact that he’d gotten home. “You did. You promised.” You crashed your lips to his and despite the blood loss and pain, you felt him respond in a way that made you sure that you’d never take another second for granted again. His lips moved with yours as your tears slipped over his fingers and his tongue slipped by your teeth. Yours welcomed it as they twined together, and you’d never felt as alive as you had in that moment. You could have lost the man you loved, could have lost the vibrant soul that stood before you. But you hadn’t, he’d come back, he’d kept his promise, and the seconds that ticked by in his absence melted away as your kiss slowed and became more gentle, finally breaking as you rested your face against his. “I love you, Nick. I love you…”

“I know,” he answered, and you felt him wince against your cheek. “That’s why I was always comin’ back to you.”

You raised on your toes and pressed your lips to the corner of his eye. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I have a first aid kit in the bathroom. Let’s get this patched up, okay?”

He let you slide an arm under his and lead him up the walkway to your front door. “Yeah, okay.”

“Then I’m not letting you out of my sight for days, you got that, Tortano?” You turned to kiss the spot on his tee where your mascara still showed, and despite the pain he was clearly in, he laughed under his breath.

“Fine with me, beautiful.”

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @agent-bossypants @lexxierave @songtoyou @poindexted @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @zaffrenotes @traeumerinwitzhelden @breanime

#nick tortano #by the gun fanfic #nick tortano x reader #nick tortano x you #nick smooches #kiss requests #kiss prompts #a kiss in the street #life or death

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lady--revan · 6 years ago

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OC Profile Meme

Tagged by @reverienne and @etoilebinaire!!!! I love talking about my gremlin daughter, thank you!!!!

PHYSICAL

Name: Revan Kestrel Varik

Nickname: She was pretty much always known as Revan, her other names were simply on papers stored away in the Jedi Temple. When she lost her memory, she became the soldier Kestrel.

Age: 28 (KOTOR 1)

Species: Human

Morality: Chaotic good. But she’s like, one dark side point away from being chaotic neutral. During her time as a Sith she was Neutral Evil.

PERSONAL

Religion: Um, does Jedi-turned-Sith-turned-Jedi-turned Gray Jedi count?

Sins: greed/gluttony/sloth/lust/pride/envy/wrath

Virtues: chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

Known languages: Galactic Basic, and some alien languages she drew out of people’s heads using Force Comprehension

Build: scrawny/bony/slender/fit/athletic/curvy/herculean/pudgy/plus size/average

Height: She’s like 5’5

Scars/Birthmarks: some scarring on her back from when Malak tried to kill her

Abilities/Powers:

Telekinesis is her favorite thing ever. It’s like having as many arms as you want, and she frequently uses it without having to think about it. Like she’ll be talking with Carth in their apartment and then the caf maker will start by itself, making drinks for both of them. (He thinks she’s showing off and well, he’s not completely wrong) After many years of memorizing the correct switches on the Ebon Hawk, Revan can turn it on using only her mind. (She still prefers doing it manually in case she misses something)

No one can sneak up on her. She always knows if someone is behind her, though she sometimes can’t tell who it is

Force lightning can sometimes prove useful in desperate situations. When a ship loses power due to deactivation, a pulse from her fingertip can spark it on again. She keeps getting lectured about it bc it’s a Dark Side power

Restrictions:

She can be reckless, and always takes the difficult part of missions, sometimes alone. During the attack on the Star Forge, she slipped away from the others because she thought they would only slow her down. Even though she’s pretty much a one-woman army, this sometimes blows up in her face. She thought she could face the threat in the Unknown Regions alone, but quickly learned she would need help. (That help eventually turned out to be the Exile.)

This also ties in with the last part- She’s biased and keeps the ones she loves the most in the safest parts of the battle when she can. Revan would rather risk a random soldier’s life than Carth’s, for example.

Revan, unfortunately, takes after Kreia. She often has a master plan, and isn’t above subtly manipulating people with the Force. She wouldn’t dare try it with her loved ones, but she doesn’t see anything wrong with giving someone a little “suggestion” through the Force

FAVOURITES:

Food: eating emergency rations at 3 AM (gone wrong) Revan isn’t very picky. She’s even eaten questionable food before, mainly because of the resistance to poison that comes with Jedi training.

Pizza topping: She doesn’t have a favorite? As I said before she’ll eat pretty much anything.

Colour: Maroon

Music genre: Rock, but she has a soft spot for upbeat jazz.

Movie genre: Action/Adventure

Curse words: Just some Mando’a words, and never in front of Mission or Bastila

Scents: She doesn’t really smell like anything.

FUN STUFF:

Bottom or top: this question makes me uncomfortable so I won’t answer it

Sings in the shower: yes and it’s this song (epilepsy warning!!!) for 30 minutes straight

Likes puns: She despises them much more than she should lol

tagging ummmm @lesbianvisas @theebonhawke @jediisapphic (if you want to of course)

#tfw you stan your own oc #she's such a gremlin i love her #my art #kestrel varik #revan #oc profile meme #if somebody tags me again I'll do it for liana #tags

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uas-fics · 6 years ago

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Title: Soulmate Highs Rating: T Summary: Everyone has a soulmate tell. As Stan finds out one day, his is that whatever his soulmates write on their skin appears on his as well. He should be overjoyed, but instead, he’s just nervous his soulmates will find him boring… Ships: Stunny (Stan x Butters x Kenny) Other: For @polyshipprompts Polyship Week, day 2, Soulmate AU.

Oof thought I had an extra day to work on this but nope, I was wrong. >>, Sorry if it seems rushed or lacks the deeper nuisance and trope deconstruction of my other soulmate works. This one is mostly just for an excuse to write this ship.

—-

“Well,” Kyle took a breath, “that’s a dick alright.”

Stan couldn’t keep his eyes off the crude drawing of a penis across the underside of his arm. One moment, he had nothing there, then the next a line appeared. As if by magic, the rest of the appendage slowly grew across his skin.

“I can’t believe it,” Stan muttered. He’d heard stories of this, but never thought he would experience it. This happened to a second cousin’s hairstylist or a friend of a friend of an aunt’s stepmother. People you didn't ever meet. People who were lucky and excentric. This didn’t happen to normal people like Stan.

“Me neither.” Kyle prodded the drawing with his finger. “You’ve really got your soulmate’s writing on your arm.”

Stan slapped his best friend’s hand away. “They’re not writing to me. I bet they don’t even know it happened.”

Stan covered the drawing, his mind buzzing. Everyone had some way to find their soulmates. Those were the soulmate tells. Some people swapped eye colors. Some were color blind until they touched their soulmate. Some shared fingerprints.

Stan had always assumed he would be someone who shared a birthmark with his soulmate, and, given how small and awkwardly placed his birthmark was on the back of his upper thigh, he would never have a chance to find his soulmate anyway.

Having his soulmate’s drawing just appear threw that theory out the window.

Only one in a few thousand had a soulmate tell like this! A direct line of communication right on his skin!

“I really, really can’t believe this.” Stan felt a goofy smile spread across his face. “I never thought I’d get this lucky.”

“Yeah,” Kyle crossed his legs on the carpet, “you’ve got a really good lot in your love life, Stan. I’m happy for you.”

Stan winced at Kyle’s tone. Kyle wasn’t upset or mad or even jealous, but behind his happiness for Stan, there was a tinge of bitterness.

On Kyle’s wrists were the words ‘thank you, please, come again’. They were either his soulmate’s first words to him or their last. Kyle had long ago adopted a pessimistic outlook that they had to be the first and last, and he would walk out of whatever store they worked at never see his soulmate again.

“Hey, Kyle, I’m sorry,” Stan started, but Kyle held up his hand.

“Dude, it’s fine. Are you going to reply?” Kyle changed the topic back to Stan’s soulmate.

Stan nodded, craning his head around to find a pen or marker. Spotting one under his bed, he moved to his side and reached out his fingers to roll it close enough to grab it.

He spun the blue sharpie in his fingers, thinking what to say. Maybe the direct approach was best. Something like 'Hello? Is this my soulmate?“ Or maybe he could draw a dick back. Give his soulmate the first impression that he was a chill dude.

Before Stan could decide, teal blue words scrawled across his arm under the dick drawing.

"Wow! Did you draw this? Are you my soulmate?” the words said, with an arrow pointing to the drawing and a wide smiling face.

Stan frowned, twisting his arm around. Why would his soulmate reply to their drawing? Unless…

The original purple ink wrote under the teal blue, “I guess I am! If I knew today my arm drawings would reach my soulmate, I would have drawn something more classy than a dick! lol”

“You don’t just have one soulmate, you have two.” Kyle gasped. “Shit, dude. Now you have to reply.”

Stan nodded, uncapping the marker with his teeth. He spat the cap out and held the marker over his arm, just under purple’s response.

“Wowie, golly, and here I thought I’d never have a soulmate. I wasn’t born with weird eyes or marks or nothing. Where you?” Teal ended their question with an oversized question mark, right where Stan was about to write.

“I gotta mole in the shape of Louisiana on the bottom of my foot, but that’s it.” Purple drew a rough outline of the Pelican State.

“I’ve never been to Louisiana. I don’t think I’ve ever been off Hawaii.”

Stan sucked in a breath. “He’s from Hawaii?” He exclaimed as Purple wrote, “You’re from HAWAII?!?!?!”

“Yup!” Teal added a stick figure surfing on a wave.

Instead of replying directly, Purple drew sunglasses on the stick figure then added a speech bubble proclaiming, “Cool!”

Stan grinned at their antics. He was sure he’d like Purple’s personality, and Teal must have so many stories from living in a tropical paradise.

“So, are you going to eavesdrop or tell them?” Kyle asked, leaning back. He snapped a photo with his phone. A second later, Stan’s phone lit up with a SnapChat notification. Stan capped the marker and picked up his phone, already knowing what the notification was about.

“Local Love Struck Doofus To Scared to Talk To Soulmates. More At 10,” the caption on the picture read.

Kyle smirked as Stan flipped him the bird.

“I’ll talk to them, I just…I need to find the right time to jump into the conversation.” Stan twisted his arm to see the continuing conversation his soulmates were having.

“So where do YOU live?” Teal asked.

“I live in the Colorado mountains,” Purple added a winter hat to the surfing figure then a few snowflakes.

“Kyle, he lives in Colorado!” Stan scrambled to sit on his knees and shoved his arm in Kyle’s face. “In the mountains, like you do! Maybe you know him?”

“There are a lot of mountain towns,” Kyle fell back to keep Stan’s arm from his vision, “and besides, if he lives in South Park, too, he’ll definitely know about you. Everyone in South Park and Middle Park knows about 'Tegrity Farms. It’s where most of the town gets its weed.”

He waved his hand around as if clearing pot smoke from the room. “I guess that works out well for you, then. Having one live in the same state.”

Stan’s stomach fell to his knees. He hadn’t thought of that. What would his soulmates think that he lived on a cannabis farm? There is no way they wouldn’t think less of him for knowing how to make pot butter.

For probably the millionth time, Stan cursed his dad for moving them out of the mountains ten years ago when he was five to start 'living naturally and in one with nature.’

Stan tossed the marker onto his bed before flopping onto his stomach on the floor.

He held out his arm and stared at the conversation.

“Do you snowboard?! Sled? I’ve never seen snow before!” Teal wrote.

“Sledding yes, but not snowboarding. I know how to ski a little.” Purple added a bear surfing alongside the stick figure. “It’s pretty boring here. I like it like that, though.”

Teal started to write something, but Purple wrote over him with another question.

“What’s your name? We should probably know lol.”

“My name is Leopold, but everyone calls me Butters–it’s a long story.”

So Teal Ink was Leopold–Butters. It would take a while for Stan to get used to calling someone 'Butters,’ but he was sure he could do it if he had to.

“Butters? Like what’s on toast?”

The last few letters in 'toast’ curved up so they didn’t overlap a part of the earlier conversation.

“Brb, gonna wash my arm off,” Purple said in the middle of the penis drawing.

“Me too,” Teal added under.

“Well, this seems as good of break in the conversation as any,” Kyle commented, tracing the words on his wrist with his fingers. “Wait for them to wash it off, then say you’re here too.”

Stan chewed his lip. “Yeah, maybe…”

Hearing the nervous tone in his voice, Kyle rolled his eyes. He stood and brushed his pants off.

“Where are you going?” Stan demanded to know as Kyle strolled towards the door. “ You can’t leave me while this is going on.”

“I’m coming right back.” Kyle pulled open the door. “You know my mom doesn’t let me eat at your house. Do you want me to pick you up anything while I’m out?”

Stan sighed. In retrospect, he should be glad he was able to keep up a friendship with Kyle at all after he moved away, but all the rules and regulations Mrs. Broflovski put on Kyle when he came down to visit were such pains in the ass.

“Yeah, there is a new gas station if you turn left and head East instead of back up towards South Park. They have that macha Monster I like and awesome chicken veggie pizza.” Stan pushed himself up to pick up his wallet from his desk. He took out a ten and handed it to Kyle.

Kyle nodded, pocketing the money. “Ok, macha monster, chicken veggie pizza. Got it. Don’t get another tattoo while I’m on a food run.” He smirked as Stan slapped a hand over his hip.

“That happened one time and you won’t let me live it down,” Stan muttered, tracing the poorly done paw print tattoo through his shirt. Some older kids from Stan’s school had invited them to a party, where Stan had been talked into being a canvas for an eleventh-grade amateur tattoo artist.

Kyle had tried to talk him out of it, but the artist was so pretty, Stan couldn’t say no and waited until Kyle left to grab something to eat back upstairs before allowing her to make the paw outline on his upper hip.

“Nope.”

As Kyle headed down the hall and the steps, Stan stuck his head out of his room to shout, “And get me a Twix, too.”

“Are you going to stress eat all night over this?” Kyle yelled back, the top of his head disappearing down the stairs.

“I just fucking might!”

“Stanley, language!” His mom shouted from downstairs.

After calling down an apology, Stan went back to his room and sat at his desk. He eyed the cup of pens, markers, and pencils. It would only take one mark for his worrying to end. If they were his soulmates, then what his family did for a living shouldn’t bother them too much, right?

Stan’s hand hovered over an uncapped ballpoint pen sitting straight up in the cup. His arm was clear of ink now. This was his chance.

Just as his fingers brushed the pen, Butters replied.

“That’s better and yes my nickname is Butters like what goes on toast ha-ha!”

“That’s awesome dude,” Purple replied a moment later. “My name’s Kenny btw.”

Stan dropped his arm to the desktop, heaving a sigh.

He couldn’t do it.

Resting his cheek on the cool wood of the desk, Stan watched his soulmates get to know more about each other, unaware of their third partner’s eyes on their words.

Butters and Kenny went on to fill up his arm several times with chit chat and doodles. Butters was quite the artist and covered his wrist with vines and flowers twice. Kenny was funny as hell and made Stan have to cover his mouth to keep quiet before his parents came barging in.

They seemed like amazing soulmates.

After erasing their arm conversations again, Butters asked, “Could you do me a favor Kenny?”

“Sure, what?” Kenny wrote back.

“I have a tattoo. I got it to piss off my parents last year. Do you have it now? Or does it only count if I get another?”

Stan’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t even thought about if old ink still counted. He pulled up his shirt and stared at the faded green-black paw print.

“You have a tat? That’s sick dude! What is it? Where is it? I’ve always wanted one but couldn’t afford to go to a good place.”

“Thank you! I designed it myself. It’s on my left shoulder. Check yours!”

Heart pounding in his ears, Stan slowly rolled up his sleeve. Just before his shoulder, he stopped, shaking. Forcing courage through his body, he rolled it up completely to see a T-like shape in a box with the word 'Chaos’ written under it. Each of the word’s letters was in a different font style. Unlike Stan’s simple outline, this tattoo had shading that made the weird box shape look like metal.

“Oh, no…” Stan whimpered. He spun around and dove onto his bed where he left his phone. He didn’t bother to try texting. Pressing Kyle’s number, he held the phone up to his ear.

Three rings and Kyle picked up. “Yes, Stan?”

“Butters has a tattoo–and now I have one too. Another one. They’ll know I’m here when they see my tattoo.” Stan started to pace his room. “What do I do?”

“Just tell them! Who cares what they’re talking about. Just write on yourself that you’re their other soulmate and live happily ever after or whatever.” Kyle’s voice sounded irritated. “It’s not hard, Stan.”

“You don’t get it, Kyle! My family lives on a cannibis farm. I’m not funny or artistic like they are. I’m just…you know a normal joe. Nothing special.” Stan threw his arm out and brushed the back of his hand across his pen cup, knocking the whole thing over.

Pens and markers scattered on the floor, several rolling under the desk.

Stan swore, running his hand through his hair.

“Dude, I am not letting you have perfect access to meeting your soulmates and throwing it away because you’re a coward. Don’t make me take matters into my own hands, Stanley,” Kyle threatened.

“I am not a coward–”

The sound of coins and cash hitting a glass counter came through the phone.

“I have to help my love-struck, doofus best friend talk to his soulmates. Keep the change,” Kyle told someone. To Stan, he continued, “you have until I’ve driven back to 'Tridgey Farm to do it yourself, or I will sit on you and write it myself.”

Stan shuddered. He’d known Kyle since they were both in diapers. He could and would do what he threatened. No doubt about that. he would pin him down and write bluntly something like “This is your other soulmate’s best friend. He is too much of a wuss to talk to you two. His name is Stan.” right across his arm in black ink.

Stan slumped down in his chair, burying his face in his arms.

“Why can’t I have a colorblind soulmate tell or anything else? This isn’t fair…” Stan whined.

“Don’t know what to tell you. At least you know you’ll be able to meet yours and not walk out on them forever…” Kyle muttered bitterly. “Just–oh, shoot. That’s the clerk coming to my car. Well, you just got yourself another few minutes.”

He hung up before Stan could speak.

Stan repeatedly dropped his forehead against the desk. What was he going to do? He couldn’t let Kyle get here and do it. That would make him look like a total loser!

Deciding that reading Butters and Kenny’s conversation might calm him down, he rolled his head towards his arm.

A mark of blue ink ran down the back of his hand from his knuckles to just past his wrist.

“Did you do that? Are you ok?” Kenny asked, drawing an arrow to the blue streak.

“No, I didn’t draw that.” Butters drew a frowny face.

“Is there someone else here? Helloooooooo?”

Stan watched the final o and question mark appear on his skin. He heaved a sigh and sat up. He reached for a pen, only to remember he knocked the pen cup from his desk a moment before.

Shaking his head, he bent over and picked up the first pen he found.

“Ollie ollie oxen free!” Butters wrote. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Swallowing down his nerves, Stan pressed the pen to his skin.

“Sorry.” He wrote then added, “I’m Stan.”

“What?! So, there are three of us here? Triple soulmates?!” Butters then drew a big heart. “I woke up today thinking I had none and before noon I got three? How lucky!”

“Noon?” Stan asked himself, then remember Hawaii was a few hours behind.

“Cool, man. How long have you been watching?” Kenny asked.

Stan considered lying that he had just woke up, but decided against it. Best foot forward didn’t involve lies.

“An hour? I saw the dick. I was,” Stan paused, “nervous.”

“Wow. That’s cute.”

He could almost hear the tease in Kenny’s words as if he had spoken them, but somehow he didn’t mind it. Instead, he wondered what they really sounded like, or even what they looked like. Kenny seemed like the kind of guy to have a lopsided smile. Butters probably spoke with his hands, Stan guessed.

The whole conversation he’d read, they had given vague descriptions of themselves. Both of them were blonds with blue eyes and his age, fifteen, but nothing else.

“It’s ok! I was nervous, too,” Butters made a smiley face, “but with three of us, will we have room on our arms anymore?”

“If we write really tiny…” Kenny let his handwriting grow smaller and smaller until the n and y were barely readable.

Stan snorted a laugh. In his tiniest handwriting, he asked, “Does anyone have a Discord or something?”

“I do! It’s ProfChaos172, my hamster is my pfp.” Butters announced with a picture of a hamster in a square box.

“I do but could you wait a few minutes? Don’t have wifi in the house,” Kenny admitted. “Gimme ten minutes to get to the library.”

“Wait, first, there is something I have to say if you even want to really include me in your lives.” Stan steeled himself. “Dad moved us to a pot farm when I was 5. Other than that I’m boring compared to you two…Idk if you want a boring soulmate like me.”

“A POT FARM?! HOLY SHIT!” Kenny drew a big, purple cannabis leaf. “Dude, that’s not boring.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to have a boring farm life no matter what farm you’re on,” Butters announced.

A weight lifted off Stan’s shoulders. With a smile on his lips, he placed his fingertips over the top of his soulmates’ last words. Knowing they wouldn’t think he was weird or boring because of his farm life, Stan wrote down his discord name and told Kenny he and Butters would wait ten minutes before attempting to contact each other.

Once Kenny wished them both goodbye, Stan bent down to turn on his computer. He tapped his fingers impatiently against the desk as the discord logo spun around. Updates, of course. It’ll take forever for all of them to download.

Leaning back, Stan took out his phone and pulled up Kyle’s contact. If Kyle was driving, should he just text him? Calling would be faster, but would Kyle even pick up? He only got his license a month ago and was a very careful driver.

Just as Stan went to open a text message, his phone rang. Kyle was calling him.

“Perfect,” Stan mumbled before answering, “Hey, Kyle, good news. You don’t have to hold me down. I did it.”

“Oh, yeah, cool for you, Stan. Good job,” Kyle replied absentmindedly.

“Kyle? You sound distracted?” Stan strained his ears. He couldn’t hear any engine rumbling or radio or the wind. Hadn’t Kyle left yet?

Someone asked a question, and Kyle covered the phone to answer.

“Kyle?” Stan shouted into the phone as discord finally loaded. He already had a request from ProfChaos172 waiting. His profile picture was a cute cream-colored hamster. It even had a little cape on. Stan made a note to send a picture of his dog Sparky right away. Did Kenny have any pets? That topic would be a great starting off point for all three of them to talk, and it wouldn’t be hard to steer the conversation that way, either.

“Stan, you are not going to believe what happened at the gas station.”

“You got the final punch in your free pizza card,” Stan guessed as he pulled up his file folder of Sparky pictures.

“No, better,” Kyle laughed. “Do you know Jimmy Valmer?”

“Yeah. He’s in my class. Funny guy.”

“He works at the gas station you sent me to, and do you know what his Soulmate tell is? It’s like mine, words on his wrist.” Kyle continued, excitement growing in his voice. “You know what the words are?” He didn’t give Stan time to answer. “'I have to help my love-struck, doofus best friend talk to his soulmates. Keep the change’.”

Stan furrowed his brow. “No. No way. Isn’t that what you said while you were on the phone a bit ago?”

“Uh-huh! And Jimmy told me 'Thank you, please come again’! Do you know what that means? We’re soulmates!” Kyle shouted. “I found my soulmate. Life is great!” Stan could almost see Kyle jumping to his feet as he announced his joy to the gas station parking lot.

Stan held the phone from his ear, but couldn’t help but smile. After years of moping and being bitter about it, Kyle ended up finding his soulmate after all. Stan would have to rub the irony of it in Kyle’s face sometime.

“Aren’t we just a lucky pair of boys tonight.” Stan chortled to himself. “Are you coming back here?”

“Nah, I’m staying in the parking lot to talk with Jimmy until I have to head back up the mountain. I called to tell you that so you didn’t worry,” Kyle explained. “I’ll pay you back for your pizza next time I see you.”

“No, it’s fine. Consider it a gift for urging me to talk to Kenny and Butters.” Stan smiled fondly at the computer screen. Only a couple more minutes now until Kenny showed up.

“Thanks, man,” Kyle replied. “I think I’m going to go now. Have fun chatting with your soulmates.”

“Have fun chatting with yours.” Stan hung up as a request to join a private group chat with ProfChaos174 and 6969SexyBeastMcCormick6969 appeared on his screen.

Without missing a beat, Stan moved his mouse and accepted the invite.

#stan marsh #kenny mccormick #butters stock #stunny #stan x kenny x butters #one-shot #polyshipweek #kyle broflovski

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