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anonymousewrites · 2 months ago

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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Seven

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Seven: Stranded

Summary: Saiki and (Y/N) continue to deal with the issues of being stranded (mostly created by their friends).

“Okay. What am I going to do to save us?” Saiki stared at the ceiling of his room as he considered his options. He wasn’t going to sleep on the ground at the beach, so he’d teleported back to his house, his room, and his comfortable bed. For the night, he could stay there.

“Can you teleport us to another island when they’re asleep so we’re found?” said (Y/N), yawning and rolling over on their side to face him.

Saiki had brought them with him, of course. He was a good boyfriend and wasn’t going to abandon them.

“It would be too weird,” said Saiki. He thought hard. “Telepathy won’t work, either. I’m too far from Japan. And I can’t explain how we got so far. Damn. I can’t do anything.”

“We’ll figure out something,” said (Y/N), smiling and patting his shoulder.

Saiki rolled on his side to face (Y/N). “We’ll have to be patient with those idiots.”

“Probably,” said (Y/N), laughing. “But I’m also an idiot, so be patient with me.”

“You’re smarter than any of them,” said Saiki.

“Thanks, Kusuo,” said (Y/N), smiling softly. “And don’t worry, I’m here to help you. You’re not alone fixing this.”

“I know.” He didn’t deserve them. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

“No problem, Kusuo.” (Y/N) closed their eyes, reached out, and touched his hand. They drifted off in moments.

Saiki looked down at his hand and laced his fingers with theirs. He closed his eyes. He could face anything as long as he had (Y/N).

“My back hurts,” groaned Kuboyasu as the morning sun awoke everyone. (Saiki and (Y/N) had teleported back before people realized they were missing). “Thanks for keeping watch. Did a ship pass by?”

“No, none went by.” He had made sure he wasn’t going to get everyone stuck here for longer before going home for the night.

“I see,” said Kuboyasu. “So, no one has come after one day. That’s probably pretty bad.”

“It’s all over,” said Kaidou, eyes wide and wild. “Help isn’t coming. The world has abandoned us. We’re going to have to live the rest of our lives here on this island.”

(Y/N) watched him spiral and take out a marker. They tilted their head, and a little question-mark popped up by their head. “Huh?”

“But we can’t survive here forever. Soon, we’ll run out of food, and things will become desperate.” Kaidou drew a scary face over his features. “We’ll start killing each other!”

“This isn’t Lord of the Flies,” said Saiki.

“Besides, that was written by a guy who hated kids,” chirped (Y/N). “So don’t worry, we’re not really going to end up doing that.”

“Yes,” said Teruhashi. “Kaidou, don’t be so pessimistic!”

“It’s only been a day,” agreed Kuboyasu.

“One whole day! No one’s ever gonna come!” said Kaidou.

Ever? That might not be so bad, thought Yumehara. She was enjoying the idea of settling down on the island with Kaidou and raising a family.

Now is not the time for that, thought Saiki.

“Anyway, let’s eat and go for a swim.” Nendou had his usual smile and no sign of distress at all.

Because he’s an idiot.

“Everyone is just saying whatever they want,” said Kuboyasu, frowning.

“I’m worried about him, too,” said Teruhashi, looking to the side. Saiko was sitting on a rock and staring out to sea.

“Yes,” agreed Kuboyasu. “Maybe he feels responsible for what happened.”

“Maybe I should console him,” said Teruhashi. The two walked towards Saiko.

“Hey, Saiko, come down and eat,” said Kuboyasu, smiling.

“No, I’m good,” said Saiko.

“You’re good?” (Y/N) tilted their head. “But you didn’t eat yesterday, either.”

“The sinking wasn’t your fault,” said Kuboyasu. “You don’t need to punish yourself. Here, have some bread. No one cares.”

“What are you talking about?” Saiko looked at them incredulously. “I would never eat a dirty poor man’s bread. If I had to eat scraps like that, I would rather die.”

“So he’s going to starve to death? Alright,” said (Y/N), as bright as ever.

“I don’t like it when you don’t like someone.” It gave Saiki the shivers.

“Well, if Teruhashi fed it to me, I guess I would eat it,” continued Saiko.

“What a jerk,” said Kuboyasu, walking away.

Even Teruhashi, always kind and gentle and smiling to her fans, had narrowed her eyes. “Let’s just leave him be for a while.”

“Okay! Let’s eat,” said Yumehara.

“But Mera’s not here, yet,” said (Y/N), looking around.

“You’re right,” said Yumehara, frowning.

“That’s strange,” said Kaidou. “She’s usually the first one running when we mention food.”

“Speaking of which, I heard someone while I was asleep,” said Teruhashi. She furrowed her brow. “I wonder if that was her.”

“I guess Mera’s having a mental breakdown as well,” said Yumehara.

Kaidou shivered grimly. “Already, the first victim.”

“Don’t say such ominous things!” cried Teruhashi fearfully.

The bushes rustled.

“Maybe that’s her,” said (Y/N).

SSSssss.

“A snake!” screamed Yumehara.

“Do something!” said Teruhashi, clutching Yumehara.

“How should I know what to do?!” cried Kaidou, just as terrified.

“Hiyah!” A spear hit the snake.

“Wow!” exclaimed Kaidou.

“A spear just came flying!” said Kuboyasu.

“What great aim,” said (Y/N) appreciatively.

“That’s what you notice?”

“Who on earth is that?!” said Teruhashi, staring at the figure emerging from the forest.

It was Mera dressed in a random assortment of clothes carrying a bow, arrow, and spear. It was like she had been living on the island for one year, not one day.

“Mera? What’s with that getup?” said Kuboyasu.

“She’s adapting well,” said (Y/N).

“She’s lost her mind,” corrected Saiki.

“Oh, wow, Mera,” said Kaidou. “I mean, it’s awesome, but still…”

“Since Mera is poor, I guess she’s used to living in the wild,” said Yumehara.

“You don’t have to go that far,” said Saiki.

Mera lifted up a bag, and (Y/N) looked at it with a smile.

“Is this for us?” said (Y/N).

Mera nodded. She had lost the ability to speak with how deeply she had committed to her part.

(Y/N) took the sack. “I think it’s food!” They smiled. “It’s an apology for eating the food in the pantry.”

At least someone understands her.

“She’s going back into the forest,” said Kuboyasu.

“It seems our food problems are over,” said Kaidou.

He, Teruhashi, and Yumehara had tears in their eyes. “Thank you, Mera!” We won’t let this food you worked hard to gather go to waste. They opened the sack to find suspicious-looking mushrooms. We will eat what we have left, first.

Immediately, they walked to where the pantry had washed up. It was entirely empty.

“What? The food is gone!” said Kuboyasu. “What happened? We still had a whole day’s worth!”

“Did the animals take them?” said Kaidou.

“…Mera was sorry for eating our food,” said Yumehara.

“I thought she meant about the ship,” said (Y/N).

“Maybe she was talking about this,” said Yumehara, wincing.

Everyone groaned.

“That brute! I’ll kill her!” said Kuboyasu.

“Calm down, Aren!” Kaidou grabbed Kuboyasu. “You can’t beat her!”

“He’s right! The forest is her turf!” said Yumehara.

“ ‘Calm down?!’ ” exclaimed Kuboyasu. “We don’t have any food left!”

“We do. We have food, don’t we?” said Kaidou. “The plants and mushrooms Mera picked.” In fact, Nendou was already eating them. “Hey!” Kaidou grabbed them. “Those are for everyone!”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think anyone was going to eat them,” said Nendou. “Don’t worry. There’s still a bunch left.”

Kaidou looked into the bag. Kubyasu and Yumehara peered over his shoulders. All of them held in their nausea and groaned. Clearly, only Nendou could digest such food.

“Yare yare,” said Saiki at the dramatic moping.

“Can you help us, Kusuo?” said (Y/N), smiling at him.

“For you.”

“That’s sweet, but you’re lying.” (Y/N) knew Saiki helped people because, fundamentally, he was a good person (and got dragged into things).

“Hey, look!” Teruhashi cried, smiling widely. “Some food washed up on the beach!”

(Y/N) grinned at Saiki. He softened at their gaze. The trouble was worth it.

“Really?!” said everyone excitedly.

“You’re right!” said Kaidou. “Look at these emergency rations!”

“It’s like a dream,” said Kuboyasu. “But how?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Kaidou. “It drifted here from Saiko’s ship.”

“It’s a miracle!” said Yumehara.

“No, it’s not,” said Saiki. He had spent all his money on the food.

“I’ll pay you back,” whispered (Y/N).

“Wait, we have canned goods but no can opener,” said Kaidou.

“And cup noodles but no kettle,” said Kuboyasu.

Not to worry.

“A can opener and kettle!” said Kaidou excitedly. “It’s a miracle!”

“Is this really by chance?” said Kuboyasu, but even he was grinning. “It’s got to be because God loves Teruhashi so much.”

“Makes sense,” laughed (Y/N).

“Hooray for Teruhashi!” said Yumehara.

Saiki watched them laugh. No, it’s because I—care about my partner. “This is going to continue forever. We have to find a way off the island.”

“As pleasant as it is here with the nice sun, the beach, and the water, I do miss home,” said (Y/N) cheerfully. They weren’t scared of being stuck there; they knew they’d find a way to help everyone with Saiki.

“Oh, this wood floats on the water, doesn’t it?” said Nendou, holding up a plank of wood. “Which means, if we had a giant piece of wood, we would be able to ride it home, right?”

“What, you mean build a raft?” said Kuboyasu.

“How are we going to do that without any tools?” said Kaidou.

“Would that—”

Saiki shook his head as (Y/N) spoke. “It would be suicide.”

“What if you teleported us when you got to open water?”

Saiki literally jumped up. “That’s it!” If I teleport everyone now, they will realize it because the scenery will change. But they won’t notice it if I do it out there, in the ocean.

“What is it?” said everyone, looking at Saiki.

“Time to build a raft.”

“Oh, look, a bunch of saws drifted ashore,” said (Y/N), gasping in “surprise.”

“That’s enough for everyone! Tape, too,” said Yumehara.

“Too many miracles,” said Kuboyasu.

“Well, whatever, with these, we can build a raft,” said Nendou, shrugging.

“No, we can’t,” said Kaidou. “Though we can build a raft with these, it’s too dangerous. In these desperate times, with these murder weapons, we’ll definitely end up killing each other! So I think we should throw these back in the ocean!”

“Let’s get to work!” said (Y/N), completely moving on from the threats of doom.

The group did, with Nendou and Kuboyasu leading the group in numbers of trees cut down (both had unreal strength). Saiki sat out because his super-strength would be too obvious. (Y/N) helped Yumehara and Teruhashi gather vines for rope.

“Kaidou, we’ve got the vines,” said Yumehara.

“Great. Put them over there,” said Kaidou. He and Saiki had collected empty water-bottles.

“What’s with the water bottles?” said Yumehara.

“If we use them, we need fewer logs,” said Kaidou.

“Wow! What a great idea, Kaidou! You’re a genius!” Yumehara’s eyes shone.

(Y/N) smiled. Kaidou was a funny boy most of the time, but it seemed all of his extra schooling from his mom meant that he was smart when it counted. And he was a good friend.

Kaidou frowned. “But it’s going to take some time. I wish we had more people helping.” Mera was still in the woods, and Saiko was still sulking.

“We should check on him. He’s barely eaten,” said Kuboyasu.

“Do we have to?” said (Y/N).

“We can’t leave him,” sighed Kaidou.

He and Kuboyasu led the way towards the rock Saiko was perched on. They found him crouching over a little crab, trying to catch it.

Kaidou deadpanned. “I knew you were hungry.”

“What are you bums talking about?” cried Saiko defensively. “I’m not hungry at all!”

“But you just tried to eat that crab,” said Kaidou.

“No, I didn’t!” lied Saiko.

“But you did—”

“No!”

“Saiko, we’re building a raft,” said (Y/N), interrupting.

“What?” said Saiko. “I knew you guys were dumb, but this is your dumbest idea yet.”

“Whatever. Just help us!” said Kaidou.

“No. If you guys want to commit mass suicide, then go right ahead,” said Saiko proudly. “Help will come soon enough.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Teruhashi stepped forward, and all the light of the angels shone from her. “Please? Build it with us.” She took Saiko’s hand. “Also, you should eat something. Everyone’s worried about you, so don’t be stubborn. Okay?”

Saiko blushed brilliantly.

“Hook, line, and sinker,” chirped (Y/N), and Saiki nodded.

“Well…Okay, I guess so,” said Saiko nervously. “I shouldn’t be stubborn at a time like this.” His eyes narrowed. “But I refuse. One thing I hate is people telling me what to do. Now get away from me!”

What? My charm didn’t work on him?! Teruhashi was deflating. People haven’t been paying attention to me since we came here.

(Y/N) caught her as Teruhashi fell in shock and supported her as they trudged back to the raft.

“Damn. He wouldn’t listen to us at all,” sighed Kaido.

“My beauty is fading the longer we’re here,” sobbed Teruhashi.

(Y/N) patted her on the shoulders. “You’ll shine brighter than ever when we make it back. Everyone is missing you, remember?” That restored some of Teruhashi’s glow.

“I want to ask Mera next, but I have no idea where she could be,” said Kaido. His eyes widened. “Speaking of which, where’s the food we found this morning?”

“Well, isn’t it in the pantry?” said Teruhashi.

“Uh-oh,” said (Y/N).

Kaidou ran forward and turned the corner. “What are you doing?!”

Teruhashi and (Y/N) looked around the corner in confusion. Crouched in the pantry, Mera had a surprised look on her face.

“Stop right there!” said Kaido.

Like a nervous animal, Mera ran away. She had really gone to earth on the island.

“I’ll never forgive you for this!”

“Kaido! Wait,” said Teruhashi. “It’s alright. The food is safe. And on top of that, she gave us more. Don’t be so angry.”

“Aww.” (Y/N) pouted as they saw Mera trembling behind a tree. “And she feels bad, too.”

“Now I feel bad.” Kaidou picked up some food and offered it to Mera. “Come here, Mera, it’s alright.”

“Come here, Mera.” Teruhashi smiled.

Mera inched closer.

“What are they doing?” asked Kuboyasu, emerging from the forest with Nendou.

“Don’t be afraid, here you go,” said Teruhashi.

“You can have some.” Kaidou held the food out to Mera.

“It’s the amazon!” shouted Kuboyasu.

Instantly, Mera ran into the bushes.

“Why did you have to yell?!” said Kaidou.

“But—”

“We almost had her and you scared her off!” said Kaidou. “She’s very timid. It takes her a while to get used to people.”

“Is Mera a pet?” said (Y/N), chuckling

“Apparently.”

“Okay…I’ll forgive her,” said Kuboyasu, sighing.

“See, Mera? No one’s mad at you,” said Teruhashi. “Let’s eat a bit together.” She put the food down, and Mera hesitantly began to eat it.

Mera let out a sigh. “Thank you!”

“She spoke!” cried everyone.

“She can speak,” said Saiki.

“If you’re sorry, can you help us?” said Kuboyasu.

“And put on your old clothes?” said (Y/N) cheerfully.

“Okay,” agreed Mera.

“Alright! Let’s do it!”

When the sun set on the second day of being stranded, a bit of a raft had been built. Would it stay together? Who knew. But they at least done something to escape and survive.

“Awesome!” said Kaidou. “It’s starting to look like a raft! We should be able to finish it tomorrow, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Anyway, it’s getting dark now. That’s enough for today,” said Nendou.

“Good idea. I can barely lift my arms,” said Kuboyasu.

“Let’s go to bed,” yawned Kuboyasu.

“Good idea,” said Teruhashi, turning and walking back towards the beach.

(Y/N) lingered until they disappeared through the trees and looked Saiki. “You’re going to make sure the raft works, aren’t you?” Saiki nodded. (Y/N) smiled, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Kusuo.”

Saiki smiled slightly as they kissed his cheek. As usual, they made the trouble worth it.

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

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colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (6)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Toto makes it harder for her to not flirt in front of the cameras, and with the comfort that came with it, Tilly doesn’t even see the bad parts of the media. Not until the next day.

Content warning: Age-gap, mention of Kimi Raikkonen flirting, whipped!Tilly and Toto caught in 4K, touchy feely vibes, brief use of explicit language

Note: We getting that communications studies degree starting this fall 😩 omw to bag that f1 money ykwim 🙈

Also, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 140 FOLLOWERS?! You guys are batshit crazy and I love you all for it. I hope my cracked-out thoughts somehow made your day… or more. Here’s another chapter for our dearly beloved Toto. Enjoy xx

masterlist

vi. love on camera

I’ve been with the sky sports people for almost three hours now. My feet are thankful for sticking to a pair of low pump heels instead of running around the paddock and garage with a five inch heel.

And I’ve been thanking myself for dressing well enough today. It doesn’t even look like I’m here as a support for Red Bull. My linen shirt is loosely tucked in my bell-bottom jeans, two buttons are undone to allow the air to flow freely through my body. The Chanel belt hugs me so tight, I feel as if I have little to no oxygen to breathe in. A Red Bull jacket is worn over my shirt, and I left it unzipped as I feel warm.

I had never worked on a full live set before. It was nerve wracking to say the least. But after finding out that my father practically sold me, I feel as if I have nothing to lose. Suddenly I’m worse than a pessimist.

My sisters made sure to tell me that I’m live on television by sending filtered photos of myself. Our youngest sister is the one having the field day with the group chat. She’s been showing her friends that I’m on television. She better be thankful I love her. I never enjoyed being the topic of a discussion. I’ve heard enough from Christian, thank you.

So far, I haven’t thrown up nor fainted. That counts right? That means that my first two interviews went alright. I just have to laugh along. That’s what I did with Fernando and Kimi. They just laughed along, and flirted a little with me.

Or rather, Fernando joked and Kimi flirted; something about going for a drink? Yeah, certainly. The man doesn’t even talk much, but the Iceman definitely suggested we went for a drink (the right words were: “There’s a bar downstairs at the hotel that you may like.”) Fernando’s married and has a nearly year old baby— I would really hate to do something demoralizing.

It turns out, laughing along with their banter will bite me in the ass. Because I know my sisters will be the ones laughing at the television.

The cameras are already recording and I can’t hear myself speaking as I introduce Lewis and Nico Rosberg to the camera as if I’m speaking to an audience. Then I remember talking about the qualifying today, asking Nico about taking the pole for tomorrow.

My words are simply flowing out of my mouth as the interview goes on.

“Are you excited?” Few minutes passed by, I then turned to ask Lewis a question.

“For wha’?” He asks, obviously confused as he zoned out during my conversation with Nico.

“Home race? You coming from Britain and representing the country?” I remind him before joking, “Or did you forget you’re British too?”

“I certainly did,” he realizes what I meant just about now, “but yes. I’m very excited. If the weather treats me right tomorrow, I’m confident that I’ll be able to make it to somewhere of a higher rank.”

“It’s okay, Lewis,” I chuckle, Nico rolls his eyes beside me. “You can say P1. No one’s going to be against that.”

“You want me to get P1?” He teases me.

My face gives an incredulous expression, making him laugh. I joke, “I feel like I’ve told you this a million times now, Lewis. Do you want me to whisper it in your ears while you sleep too?”

“God, no,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “your support is highly appreciated, Tils. I am so glad you’re here.”

“That’s why you should go for P1 tomorrow,” I nudged him, microphone still in hand.

“Only for you, lovely,” he lips pucker up as I roll my eyes and place my flat palm against it. He murmurs against my palm, making people around us giggle.

Nico adds, “I think you shouldn’t appreciate her support that much, mate. She still works at Red Bull.”

Lewis finally pulls away and gives me a mocking dirty look, “Right. I knew there’s something dodgy about you.”

“Thanks Nico, for turning my own best friend against me,” I exclaim in a cheery tone, a smile still in my face as there’s a voice incoming. There he is.

My smile widens, I feel like I’ll have wrinkles at this early age. The space immediately shrunk when Toto stepped into the scene. He stands a few inches taller than me, interrupting his drivers’ interviews.

“And here we have,” I introduce him to the camera and ask him about his thoughts on his drivers’ positions for tomorrow. I absentmindedly nod, looking at Lewis and Nico here and there to avoid being caught staring at the tall bloke. Have you ever seen someone so fit you’d continuously waffle on about them until he gives you the chance to snog you? This certainly isn’t me talking.

“Are you supporting Lewis tomorrow?” He asks me with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Surely you are, right?”

“I’m wearing a Red Bull jacket, guys,” their voices let out the heaviest laughter I have ever heard. “I’m certainly supporting Lewis, a Mercedes driver, to win tomorrow. Me, someone who’s wearing a Red Bull jacket.”

Then, as I was chatting with the drivers, Toto pulls his sleeves up and takes off his black jacket, the three pointed star and his name embroidered. His outstretched hand holds the jacket in my direction as I pause from talking.

“What, what is this?” I ask, almost playfully. What’s he doing?

“You said you can’t support Lewis because you’re wearing a Red Bull jacket,” Toto shrugs with a cheeky smile, “you can have my Mercedes one. It’s a bit big but so is your jacket.”

“I really am jesting, Toto,” I giggle, watching him pull his hand back with a little smile. “I’ve said that I won’t be playing favourites so I will stick to my neutral place.”

Lewis reaches for the microphone and speaks over it, “She’s lying. She’ll support me regardless of what jacket she wears. Us Brits have to stick together.”

“There you have it, folks,” I gesture at Lewis, “he’s explained it perfectly well. Us Brits have to stick together, indeed. I hope I don’t get banned from my own workplace after this— if I did, thanks Mercedes.”

“Well we told you that we’d be more than willing to take you in,” I look at Toto as he smirks, “it would be a shame for their part if they let you go.”

“You lads flatter me so much,” I roll my eyes mockingly, grinning at the three as I say, “As I said, I’m supporting Lewis because it’s Lewis. I did not say I favour one team over the other.”

“You will, soon enough,” Nico chuckles.

Lewis pulls me in and says, “If I win tomorrow you should do what you have to do.”

“What do I have to do?” I ask him, wondering what he’s hinting at.

He shrugs and whispers to my ear, “Go on a date with Toto.”

I pull back and stare at him for a second. I really considered that huh. As if I hadn’t gone already.

“I have already. So don’t get too cocky, eh,” I tell him, his eyes widening as he eyes Toto for a second, my nudge tells him to stop as I dismiss the matter, “having an ego can get you places. But not P1.”

“Watch me,” Lewis grins at me. Like a piece of shit. His eyes also are asking me to tell him more about what was just revealed. I nod briefly, excited to tell him about it.

“Well,” I look at the camera, “that’s it for today. Tomorrow will be the 9th race of the 2014 FIA World Championship and we cannot wait to see how these drivers perform in such weather conditions. Best of luck to all. My name is Tilly and I hope you have a good night. Thank you once again, guys.”

It didn’t take long until the wires on my body were taken off by Lydia, their media pen assistant. Nico and Lewis had already left. Toto waits for me until I start walking off the scene.

We walk all the way to the motorhomes, silence shared between the two of us.

“You left quite fast earlier,” Toto utters. This is the first time we’ve walked together since earlier this morning, and this is the first time he’s spoken to me after I’ve managed to avoid him hours after the breakfast date. I look at him.

Then I remember walking away from the scene after arriving at the venue. Now I know what to tell him after seeing me speed walk from the sight of him and the journalists.

“Some of the reporters in there were the same people who harass me whenever I’m out and about,” I explain, not wanting to make a big deal out of it as I continue, “I didn’t want to be the centre of the attention today especially now that… yeah.”

“With you interviewing the drivers for Sky Sports, I can assume Christian told you about Julius’ promotion?”

I let out a heavy sigh, shutting my eyes close for a moment as I tuck my hands into the pockets. How do I not lose my shit?

“It’s something Julius needs to speak to me about,” I grimace, “if he wants me to do this then he’ll have to tell me upfront.”

But it’s not like he’ll ever show up. I’ve never seen him since the day I was called to his office building. That was when I was told about this role that I didn’t think would be… important and big.

“He’s a bit more involved than I thought,” I laugh humourlessly, “I don’t even know how to start with it. I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’re just handling however much you can,” he tells me, “Christian and the others are more than happy to help you get a head start. You don’t have to get yourself involved with the engineering and strategy part.”

“I have three degrees,” I deadpan, “three of which have nothing to do with building a car, let alone know the full terminologies. So between my father and I, I think I have less advantage in this field and he’ll most likely fail if I’m the one taking care of it.”

He pauses for a second, making me stop walking as well. My eyes are staring at his dark ones, my brows quirked at his sudden pause.

“You are confident in front of a camera,” he starts, “I think you should be confident with how you will handle the business passed on to you, no?”

“Yeah I suppose,” I sigh, putting my head down as I keep my hands tucked into my pockets. “I need to stop being sad.”

But his chuckle did it for me. That and the way his heavy hand reached to mess with my hair. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?” I ask him, looking up at him once more only to witness his eyes twinkling.

“Back to the hotel because we all have a long day tomorrow,” he tells me, “that, and I do not exactly wish to have a conversation with any other people at the moment.”

“Pshh,” I scoff with a grin, nudging him while I wag my eyebrows, “I have heard a lot about you from Christian.”

“Huh? Really?” He asks, his face has a mischievous smile that I’ll never mistake for someone else’s. I’ve seen him smile a lot. It’s quite a shame other people never did. He’s handsome and not many people have seen it. Too bloody blind, if they haven’t.

Or he needs to smile more. But that’ll only scare people off.

“Yeah,” I nod, “something about you deliberately approaching him yesterday?” I raise a brow, still not letting go of my shit eating grin. I then notice the collar of his jacket and reach out to fix it as I playfully say, “Some may say that you’re interested in their acting Liaison.”

“Hmm,” he hums as if he’s considering it, “did I not show you that earlier today at breakfast?”

I burst into a fit of laughter as I shake my head, as if I’m telling him, “Unbelievable.”

Have I ever mentioned that this is happening around other people? People with cameras?

And here I am whining about adding fuel to the fire. It’s quite difficult not to if the man in front of me continues on doing what he does best. Existing.

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #f1 imagine #f1 fic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fic #toto wolff fanfiction #mercedes amg imagine #formula one fluff #f1 fiction #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic

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digital-dhampirs · 3 years ago

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a somewhat coherent breakdown of VnC 54.5

VnC 54.5 is out and I’m losing my mind over it. My thoughts are an absolute mess and I’m losing it and screaming and rolling on the floor. So! In order to try and get my thoughts in order (and, hopefully, figure out a tiny bit about what’s going on), let’s break down this chapter, my thoughts on it, and what it means for the world of VnC.

As much as I want to immediately jump into what I’ve dubbed the “Oh Shit Oh God Oh Fuck” part of the chapter, let’s start with something a little bit less horrifying but just as emotionally impactful..!

Dominique (and also Luca)

Throughout the Exposition Universalle Arc, we’ve been learning about Domi’s massive amounts of guilt and self hatred brought on by her family’s abuse and Louis’s death. We’ve realized that Domi’s confident, flirtatious persona throughout earlier chapters was just her attempting to be what she thought Noé wanted her to be/ what Louis would’ve been like had he lived. All this comes to a head when Mikhail uses Domi’s guilt and self hatred to hijack her mind.

But once Dominique realizes that her death would make Noé upset, she starts to take back control of herself. In 54.5 she finally faces the part of herself that she’s always averted her eyes from, and fully takes control. Her strength in this chapter doesn’t come from a facade or her trying to be someone she’s not— she’s finally looking herself in the eye, and she’s fuckin breathtaking this chapter thanks to it.

Dominique uses her formula revision powers to save Noé and Vanitas and trap Mikhail, along with all of the civilians he’s controlling. Domi is so strong and pretty and I love her—

We learn from Luca that all of the living de Sade siblings have ice powers, meaning that certain vampiric powers seem to run in families in the world of VnC. As a brief detour, I have to wonder if these abilities are inherited through blood or taught from generation to generation— I feel like the simplest answer would be inherited through blood, but the fact that Ruthven uses flames despite not being biologically an Oriflamme (along with the Teacher teaching Noé how to rewrite gravity) makes me kinda think it might be an inherited secret technique type thing. It follows to wonder…. are Archiviste abilities inherited through blood, or are they taught/ passed from generation to generation in some other way?

We also get another little piece of lore from Luca during this part of the chapter— there’s something called the formula dance that vampires can perform. We see a small panel of Luca (and Ruthven) watching Domi do this dance, likely during some sort of event. Luca specifically tells Jeanne that Domi was performing “as entertainment”, implying this dance can also be used for other purposes? I want to know more.

I mentioned this in my slightly more incoherent live review of 54.5, but Luca is even more mature and insightful than I thought he was. He acts like an innocent kid at times, especially when it comes to romance, but it seems like he’s great at understanding the people around him, even when those people have massive walls up and put on acts like Dominique. This makes his situation as a political pawn/ figurehead even more depressing, because there’s absolutely no way in hell he doesn’t know what the people around him think of him. This also makes me kinda want to rethink Luca’s relationship with Ruthven…

Going back to Domi!! She protecc Noé and Vanitas, she attacc Mikhail, she make my heart go doki doki, and she’s finally bacc. This chapter really feels like the climactic moment of Dominique’s journey throughout the manga so far. She’s incredibly strong, and that strength is finally not built over years of self- hatred and insecurity. Dominique and the two parts of her mind she’s been arguing with the whole time; the side that wants to emulate Louis and be like him, and the side that hates herself and harbors all of her darkest thoughts; are finally fighting together as one.

And,,, deep sigh,,, not to get all pessimistic on y’all but this climactic moment, as fantastic as it is, makes me about 13% more certain that Dominique’s gonna die (13% because this is mochijun lmao). Maybe not in the immediate future, because I still think she needs to work some things out about her family and Noé and all that, but at some point in the future… yeah I do think she’s probably gonna die. This really feels like the climax of her character arc, and mochijun has a talent for giving characters fantastic complete character arcs and then killing them.

So yeah, I am slightly concerned for Domi’s chances of survival. Now let’s turn from concern to screaming in horror with….

The Teacher

Oh boy.

The moment I’ve been waiting for for years has finally arrived— the Teacher has showed up in the main storyline (this reveal does pretty much confirm that the Teacher was indeed the person Noé was talking to during his dream in chapter 11, but it wasn’t confirmed at the time so it doesn’t really count). I don’t quite know how Mochijun was able to make him look so absolutely horrifying in just a few panels of gloves and a single page, but he is legitimately terrifying. I am fucking scared. I am screaming. I am crying over the fact that there’ll be at least another month till chapter 55.

Let’s try to think about this rationally.

SO.

It seems like everything that’s gone down in the Exposition Universalle arc was another one of the Teacher’s experiments. It’s still possible that Mikhail’s benefactor was someone else, but judging from how he’s holding Mikhail’s head, it seems quite likely that the Teacher is the one who saved Mikhail’s life and told him he could bring Luna back from the dead. And, thinking about it a bit, Mikhail’s ability to manipulate Dominique’s insecurities would make a lot more sense if the Teacher’s been the one pulling the strings from behind the scenes all along.

Along with confirming his presence in Chapter 11 and (likely) his identity as Mikhail’s benefactor, Teacher’s arrival in 54.5 also all but confirms another theory about his experiment with Louis— the Teacher was watching the whole crisis go down from nearby (and was likely the one who orchestrated the whole incident from the start), and only stepped in when he deemed the experiment to be over/ to stop Louis from killing Noé.

I am incredibly curious about what the Teacher was trying to achieve through this new experiment…. as well as why he interrupted it and revealed himself to the gang. Was he genuinely just interested in seeing what these people would end up doing if put into this specific situation? Or did he have another motive for pulling the strings?

The Teacher says two things about the experiment to Domi and Noé— firstly, he considered stopping them sooner; and secondly, “you’ve shown me something excellent”. Maybe we can figure out something about the experiment if we figure out these two things? Unfortunately I have no feckin clue what either of these things could be. My best guess for the former would be that he considered stopping the experiment when Noé surrendered to Vanitas and did the whole “I will never set you free” love confession speech, since Noé’s life was very much in danger, and the Teacher couldn’t have predicted whether Vanitas would stop or kill Noé. As for the latter… it could really be anything. Dominique’s internal transformation? Mikhail getting rewritten/ “eaten” by the book of Vanitas? Some sort of other information the Teacher can squirrel away for a future experiment? I really hope we’ll learn more in the next chapter..!

As for why the Teacher stopped the experiment and revealed himself… hmm… that’s another thing I think we’ll find out more about in chapter 55. Occam’s razor suggests that the Teacher wanted to prevent Mikhail from dying due to his injuries/ book induced madness and use whatever crazy alchemy magic he used to save Mikhail’s life the first time around again, but it’s also possible that something else is going on.

If ya couldn’t already tell, am insanely insanely hyped for the next chapter. I’m extreeeemely curious about what everyone’s reactions to him are gonna be. We don’t actually know much about Noé’s current relationship with the Teacher, just that the tone of his letters seem to indicate it’s a positive one… so what in the world is Noé going to do in this sort of insane scenario? We know very little about Domi’s relationship with her dear ole grandpa, what’s she going to do? What about Jeanne and Vanitas (although I don’t think Vanitas is actually in any state to be able to have a reaction at this moment, more on that later)?

And of course, there’s also the big question… can the Teacher actually bring Luna back to life?

Noé, Vanitas, and Mikhail

Moving on from the insanity of the Teacher, let’s head over to his two students and their mutual obsession.

Wait, that was supposed to be a joke, but it’s actually kind of weird. Assuming the Teacher is Mikhail’s benefactor… it seems very very strange that both of the kids he’s taken under his wing have both ended up revolving around Vanitas. Did the Teacher purposefully take Mikhail in due to his connection to Vanitas of the Blue Moon? Did he purposefully send Noé to Vanitas because he knew Noé would become increasingly intertwined with Vanitas? Did the Teacher specifically send an Archiviste to Vanitas because he knew that Noé might be able to see Vanitas’s memories and learn some sort of crucial information about the Blue Moon—

Ok let’s get back on track.

VnC 54.5 shows Vanitas and Noé continuing to be themselves and constantly throw their lives on the line to protect each other, and then getting mad over the other person trying to protect them. Noé’s first reaction upon seeing the Ferris wheel falling was to try and protect Vanitas as much as he possibly could and that hurts me.

Mikhail, meanwhile, has completely deviated from the calm and composed demeanor he had at the start of the Exposition Universalle Arc. His deteriorating mental state has completely fallen apart and, aided by whatever the hell the book did to him, he becomes dead set on one goal and one goal only— killing everyone in the park, but specifically Vanitas.

If I had to make a wild guess, I don’t think Mikhail is just fully having an “if I can’t have him no one can” tantrum here— I think he’s still quite aware of what’s going on and believes if he brings Vanitas to the brink of death (or even kills him), the Teacher can come and do whatever he did to Mikhail to bring Vanitas back. Mikhail is coherent enough to put on a desperate act and manipulate Vanitas’s kindness in one last ditch effort to kill him.

And when Vanitas falls for the trick, Noé saves him once more. Noé, Jeanne, and Dominique all rush in to try and protect Vanitas, but Noé’s the one who gets to him first. I initially thought Noé was just closer to Vani than Domi and Jeanne, but then I realized that if that were the case, Domi still likely would’ve been able to cast a formula revision before Noé reached Vanitas. Noé realized what was about to happen before the other two.

Noé slashes Mikhail’s face in a way that reminds me of… something, but my brain is too jumbled to piece together what it is at the moment. Mikhail starts screaming and Vanitas collapses to the ground, caught up in what appear to be his memories of what happened on “that day”. And then the teacher shows up.

the end (for now)

VnC 54.5 was delightful. The gang’s night out at the fair seems to be winding to a close, but I’m more hyped than ever for the next chapter. I’m super pumped to see what the teacher has to say, and how the characters all deal with the aftermath of this insanity. I didn’t talk about Jeanne much in this breakdown, but I think she’ll play a bigger role in the next few chapters as she’s the only main character who hasn’t had massive amounts of trauma dredged up this evening (…..yet).

As always… thank you very much for reading this chapter breakdown/ analysis/ insane rambling post thing! Please take everything I’ve said here with a grain of salt, as a lot of the conclusions I’ve come to are probably wrong. I apologize for this blog’s inactivity and miiiight try to do a few more analysis meta thingys based on this chapter if the stars align and I’m not instantly distracted by ooh shiny

Thanks again for reading!!

Fun Fact

We haven’t seen Murr in a while, have we? :)

#vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vnc #vnc spoilers #vnc 54.5 #vnc 55 #meta-ish

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savage-rhi · 2 years ago

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Immortal Shield Chapter 8: Behemoth

**Let me know if you wish to be tagged in updates

**To read previous chapters, hit this link

Tagging: @seradyn

With the years of hunting Caelan had under her belt, she assumed tracking a wanted Behemoth would be effortless. Several hours into the hunt after conversing with the chocobo farmer and locals regarding the animals whereabouts, and neither she nor Ardyn had anything to show for it. To say she was frustrated in her abilities was an understatement. Ardyn’s sarcastic reassurances every so often were not helping either.

Behemoth’s were rather large and intimidating creatures, making them easy to spot once one picked up their trail. Caelan was beginning to consider the possibility that she and Ardyn were in over their head. Then again, the Behemoth in question they were after was on the younger side. Unlike it’s adult counterparts, this creature had more stamina and could easily escape the area once it picked up on a human scent. They were smart creatures. Many of them instinctively knew humans represented one of two things: danger or food. The fact Caelan still had no idea where Ardyn and she stood in that situation added further fright to the task.

“I hate to be that guy,” Ardyn started.

“Then don’t be him.” Caelan interrupted, sighing as she stopped and looked around the small valley her and Ardyn ended up at.

“You’re quite charming,” Ardyn mused while he rubbed the back of his head. A grimace ran over his features as he could feel how clammy his skin had become. The humidity near the Wiz area of Duscae was rather thick. He could feel his clothes sticking to crevices on his body that were most uncomfortable.

“Cahl, I’d like to suggest we head back towards the spring.”

“Ardyn, it’s almost the afternoon. If we can’t find the damn thing by nightfall, then we’re probably never gonna find it at all.”

“You’re being rather pessimistic,” Ardyn countered. “If it’s young like the locals back at the farm said, then there’s a possibility it will come to us if we stick to a singular spot.”

“How would you know that? You told me you hadn’t hunted in ages.” Caelan raised a brow. She could feel a shiver go down her arms at the way Ardyn smirked, as if he held a secret she’d never know.

“Like most young creatures, they’re quite haughty and believe they are indestructible. They feel that they have something to prove while trying their luck at where they stand upon the food chain. Every living being goes through that cycle. Including humans.”

“Why do I have a feeling this is a jab at me?”

“Oh don’t be silly,” Ardyn said in his defense but he didn’t lose that salacious grin. “Not everything is about you.”

Caelan rolled her eyes and shook her head. There was no sense in arguing with him, or keeping up their talk. That would be what Ardyn wanted, and Caelan wasn’t in the mood to give him the satisfaction. She couldn’t understand for the life of her why he had to be this complicated. One moment, Ardyn was quite civil and a pleasure to be around. The next, he’d be smug and self righteous. Caelan knew she shouldn’t have expected anything less considering who and what he is. It didn’t make things any less complicated when it came to how she felt about him as a whole. The month they’d been traveling together had brought on different layers to their partnership that she hadn’t anticipated.

Caelan shoved Ardyn out of the way as he let out a surprised grunt from her action. A few laughs rolled from his body while Caelan refused to turn around and look his way. She was quick to learn when Ardyn was trying to get a rise out of her. Not certain if it was due to boredom, nevertheless, she wasn’t having it.

“When we get to the spring, I’ll need to take off some clothes to rinse the dirt off. Don’t even think about sneaking a peek.” Caelan forewarned with a firm tone.

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Ardyn taunted.

Reaching the spring after a long trek, Caelan realized perhaps Ardyn had a point earlier suggesting they return. The cool mist coming from the water made the surface tempting to reach into. Walking over to the little creek that was pooling into the spring, Caelan crouched down with her back turned to Ardyn and started splashing water on her arms. Getting rid of grime that had caked onto her when ducking under rocks and rotten logs. Next her boots and pants came off after she rest her pack to the side. A slight hiss left her mouth, feeling some of the callouses on her feet burn when she initially dipped her toes into the cold water. The relief that came soon after made up for the initial discomfort.

The shuffling sound of clothes being tossed from afar caught Caelan’s attention. She nearly did a double take, seeing Ardyn shrug off his long jacket, fingerless gloves, and then took off his white dress shirt. She couldn't help but think his body looked rather nice. Her eyes pondered over his arms and shoulders then her gaze quickly averted the second she locked onto his eyes. Blood began to rush to her cheeks as she tended to her aching feet, distracting herself. Ardyn didn’t say anything, but he too crouched down to the spring and began wiping down his neck.

“How many layers of clothes do you even wear, don’t you think that’s much?” Caelan called out in his direction, still keeping her eyes to her space.

“It’s nothing compared to my Niflheim attire,” Ardyn said with a laugh. “There was a time I had to wear a jacket, vest, dress shirt, scarves, at one point ties and--”

“You can stop now.” Caelan sighed, shaking her head. She didn’t understand why she even bothered to say anything.

“But you asked--”

“Enough, I know what I asked! I don’t need all the details.” Caelan said bitterly. There was a pause before Ardyn piped up with a playful tone.

“Might I add you were looking at me, I thought we had an agreement. No peeking was it said?”

Caelan could feel her eyes widen at the call out, nevertheless she held her ground and after clearing her throat decided to counter him.

“It’s not everyday you hear and see a man take 10 minutes to strip versus a woman in 2 seconds.”

The chuckles from Ardyn didn’t help the embarrassment and brief shame that came over Caelan.

“I think that assessment says more about you than it does me.”

“Shut up.” Caelan muttered barely above a whisper. She went back to tending to herself, all the while ignoring the fact Ardyn moved a little closer to her area of the spring.

After chuckling darkly to himself once more besting Caelan in a battle of wit, Ardyn wiped down the sweat from his body. He only looked Caelan’s way when she made distressed noises. He hated that. How his instincts as a healer were quite strong in this incarnation.

The compulsion to tend to others was a trait Ardyn believed he had long cast aside, but it seemed to breach whatever walls he had thought were still standing. It wasn’t so bad at the Quay when he was on his lonesome, and then he met Caelan. The thought that she triggered his empathic nature had mixed feelings run amok inside himself. Ardyn knew he could never go back to that kind of life he had thousands of years ago no matter what delusions his brain entertained. However, it didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt him in some capacity.

Ardyn’s brows knitted as he started to feel angry at himself. He couldn’t help but glance at Caelan and took notice of a tattoo that was on her body, located at the hip. His eyes scanned over the ink, seeing it was the signature Lucian Crest. A skull draped with angelic feathers. He had seen such tattoos on crownsguard within Insomnia last he visited. His mind briefly reminisced about old customs from his time.

The once coming of age tradition signified that a young person was strong enough to protect the future kingdom of Lucis, and passed near death trials to obtain the mark. Nowadays bearing such a symbol was more for show than to further display loyalty to the kingdom. At least that was what Ardyn gathered during the few conversations he had with crownsguard and kingsglaive the day before Insomnia fell.

Ardyn could recall when sworn crownsguard were branded with the crest to show off their dedication to service. His nose twitched, remembering the smell of human flesh being burnt on such occasions. It was hard to believe that thousands of years later, he could still recollect such vivid scents. Not long after the memory briefly touched his mind, Ardyn had an epiphany he’d been gazing far too long at the tattoo and thus Caelan’s hips and legs. He felt his heart stammer, clearing his throat to get her attention.

“I didn’t take you for having body modification.” Ardyn said as she looked over at him. He gestured to the tattoo, then tried to keep his eyes from looking over her further.

“You make it sound like I was experimented on,” Caelan joked. “Everybody has tattoos nowadays.”

Ardyn smiled, appreciating the simplicity of her words. He let out a small laugh. “Maybe I should get one myself, to keep up with the times?”

“Maybe there are some folk who should remain in their old ways,” Caelan snorted. “Wouldn’t want you to become impure again.”

Ardyn made a face, knowing her statement was a jab at him being corrupted by the starscourge. A low blow in his eyes, but he didn’t give into anger. His tongue briefly licked his bottom lip, feeling emboldened as he smiled.

“That tattoo of yours is of the kings sigil, correct?”

“Yeah,” Caelan began and turned her head after drying her legs and putting her pants back on. “Most crownsguard get one when they turn 16. Why do you ask?”

Ardyn shrugged. “Technically, it means I own you.”

“What?” Caelan was mortified and in disbelief. Confusion soon crossed her features as Ardyn smugly met her eyes.

“I was the founder king of Lucis. If my dated brain remembers the old customs, everyone that receives the brand belong to the king and his blood for the rest of their days.”

“There’s no god damn way,” Caelan stated plainly, shaking her head at him. “You made that up!”

“Afraid not,” Ardyn laughed. “Technically, as law dictates, I can do whatever I want with you. And in the words you eloquently said to me when we played chess and you won, 'I own your ass'.”

“And I can put you back in your fucking crypt.” Caelan said out of retaliation. She glared towards Ardyn as his laughter grew.

“Oh, you’d enjoy that!”

Caelan was close to bolting to her feet and straight up tackling Ardyn. Whether it was out of play or she really meant to hurt him, would have to wait another time as a high pitched screech immediately had the two drop their banter.

Both of them glanced around the springs, ears trying to decipher the direction the Behemoth’s blood curdling roar was coming from. When the waves of the Behemoth’s vocals died down, Ardyn and Caelan sprinted to get their clothes back on and weapons ready.

The Behemoth wasn’t too far away from the spring. It’s lumbering feline form knocked down trees and anything smaller than itself. A ferocious determination ran through its mind as it prowled, claws scratching into the earth. The nostrils of the beast flared as it zeroed in on it’s targets, knowing there were at least two creatures roaming close to it’s territory. Nose to the ground, the Behemoth followed the trail and felt the urge of surprise taking hold. It climbed up a rather large tree, just above the spring. It’s shoulders rolled in anticipation as it’s lower jaw slacked, saliva pooling past its sharp teeth before it made the leap.

Landing near the spot where Ardyn and Caelan had been bathing, the Behemoth screeched and thrashed around, hoping to swipe at the unknown scents. When it didn’t feel the impact of its claws in fresh meat, did it still and rapidly look around the area. The creature was beginning to second guess it’s instincts until a primal scream bounced through it’s ears as they tilted up.

Caelan launched herself from behind a large rock, climbing the top of the boulder then slammed her body upon the Behemoth’s back with her spear out. The weapon plunged into its spine, and she gripped the staff for dear life as the animal went buck wild trying to thrash her off. Caelan could feel her body fling and jerk, muscles wanting to snap from how powerful the force was but she held on and pressed the spear into the wound further. Once she got her bearings, Caelan rapidly began to stab the creature over and over as her body took upon beatings from vegetation and rock each time the Behemoth body slammed into random objects to best it’s foe.

Ardyn from afar, conjured up three of the royal arms. He sent the phantom weapons at the Behemoth, the blades cut across the sides and legs of the massive creature. While the Behemoth was distracted by the sudden onslaught of pain and paused in it’s running, Ardyn teleported in a shadowy flash and appeared right in front of the creature with his signature Rakshasa blade. The red sword swiped up, tearing a gash into the Behemoth’s neck. He was about to teleport again, but didn’t foresee the Behemoth giving a counter swipe. The impact knocked Ardyn off to the side as he tumbled. With the wind knocked out of himself, Ardyn watched as the Behemoth slammed its body against the side of the cliff, taking Caelan and her spear down. His eyes widened, prepared to warp again to come to aid until Caelan recovered and started running towards him.

“We need to fall back!” Caelan exclaimed.

“What, why?” Ardyn was visibly upset as she took off past him. He did a quick double take between the Behemoth and her before he sighed and followed after her. “Cahl, it’s trapped! We can easily take it out now!”

“Ardyn, it’s too strong we need to tire it out! I can’t target it’s vitals unless I get distance and time it right! My weapon works best long range!”

“Cahl, I don’t know what sort of attachment you have to the damn spear but like I’ve said before in the car, you’re more suited for close combat. You wouldn’t have taken such a beating back there! You could very well put the thing down. It’s throat was slit, a few quick jabs and it’s over! Unless you like prolonging suffering!”

At Ardyn’s words, Caelan could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The images of blood and wheezing breaths came to mind followed by a strong smell of bile. Hollow eyes of shock and betrayal staring up at Caelan like an unconditional curse rapidly invaded her senses as she tried hard to keep her mental walls up. Yet the sinking sounds of skin at the throat being slashed over and over echoed and shook Caelan’s entire being. Then came the screams of men watching in disbelief.

“Cahl! What are you doing just standing there?! Run you idiot!” Ardyn’s yells had Caelan come back to her senses. Her brain registering the present danger as she came upon the realization she had stopped running and Ardyn was ahead of her. The explosive bellows of the Behemoth followed. Long striding thumps against the earth indicated the creature was drawing near, now fully chasing them after freeing itself from the rubble it unintentionally trapped itself within.

Caelan didn’t have enough time to get to Ardyn, and so she sought out the nearest tree. She climbed up several feet, then balanced herself on a large branch as the Behemoth tunneled towards their location. She once more jumped and slammed the spear into the creatures hide, this time miscalculating and ending up near it’s rear. This gave the Behemoth an upper hand as it flung Caelan off, her spear so far embedded into its flesh that this time around it didn’t leave with her.

The Behemoth snarled as it rapidly bolted around and faced Caelan, watching as she quickly got onto her feet and took out a smaller dagger. The creature, fully aggravated and beyond enraged at how it had been caught by surprise once again, pounced and slammed onto Caelan’s chest. It’s blood splattered on her clothes as Caelan screamed out and thrust the simple dagger at it’s face as it attempted to maul and maim. She cut the left eye out, followed by stabbing through it’s submental space, the blade piercing through the Behemoth’s tongue as it shrieked so loudly Caelan couldn’t hear anything for a time. Confidence began to grow within Caelan as she continued the onslaught, thinking in the back of her mind that Ardyn had a clear point when he said she was best suited for close combat. The aims were precise and as adrenaline further catapulted her need for survival, Caelan believed she had the creature down until a heavy weight seared into side as she was tossed away several feet. Her back slamming into the base of a nearby tree as she cried out.

The Behemoth grew distracted from Ardyn as he unleashed another set of the royal arms at the creature in a desperate attempt to get it off of Caelan. It’s muscles twitched from the series of deep cuts to its hide as it roared, launching itself at the other attacker. There was a poised look in the Behemoth’s gaze, the creature understanding it was to die soon and yet the primal call within itself, to take out at least one of it’s attackers compelled it to make its final stand.

Ardyn felt his body quake from the usage of the royal arms. His vision began to fade in and out as he teleported back several feet and stood his ground. He knew despite not being at his peak in strength, he could do it. He could put an end to this. He was too prideful to let this fail as he braced himself, preparing to summon his primary weapon. The ferocity in his eyes briefly gave way to fear as he glanced in Caelan’s direction, seeing her struggling to get up. Her being coated in blood, further added onto his unease, not certain if she had been truly mauled or not. The Behemoth screeched and he let out a gasp.

Ardyn greatly miscalculated the charge of the Behemoth. His overconfidence began to sway as the beast barreled closer to his location. Ardyn was quick to summon Rakshasa, the crimson blade that tore through many who tried to take his life in the past. The great sword thrust forward at Ardyn’s command, the tip meeting the Behemoth’s thick skull in between its eyes as it pierced through and struck the core of the brain. Despite the direct hit, the body remained adamantly poised to strike Ardyn down. The Behemoth’s final war cry echoed through Ardyn’s ears as it lunged forward with the last of its strength.

“Ardyn!” Caelan screamed out, watching from afar the entire grotesque scene unfold. It happened so quickly that she barely had time to register the full weight of the situation. All she saw was Ardyn’s body flung into the air, the Behemoth crashing onto its side kicking up debris and rock, and a wave of blood accompanied by a limp body tumbling onto the ground.

From Ardyn’s point of view, everything came to a grinding halt as he saw the horn of the creature begin to sink into his chest. He could hear the crunch of his bones. An intense tingle at the point of entry radiated through his upper chest as he was flung to the side. A deep sting pulled at his chest, feeling pieces of his skin being taken away by the Behemoth’s massive horn.

Ardyn wasn’t sure how many times his body rolled over itself, but he ended up landing on his right. A thick warmth pooled in his mouth and he could taste his blood. Gurgled wheezes and pained moans immediately fell past his lips while he attempted to breathe and move. He covered his mouth out of instinct to not lose blood but lost the war as it spattered past his lips. A sharp gasp finally made its way through the back of his throat as he sat upright, his head bowed as a trembling right hand reached for his heart. He couldn’t help but stick two of his fingers near the wound entry, trying to gauge how far the horn had gone. He backed off but clasped the palm of his hand to it in a losing endeavor to somehow keep his body from losing more blood than it already had.

Ardyn’s temperature fluctuated. On one hand, the opening to his wound felt searing hot. As if someone had poured molten lava straight into the cavity of his chest. The farther in felt cold. Like his nerves had been kissed over by ice. Never in his years had he felt such conflicting sensations happen all at once in his body. Ardyn had died many times, and every time he came back he became more resilient to pain. A terrorizing thought came to mind that he hadn’t the need to reconcile with before: there might not be a next time for him. Maybe this was it. His immortality had run its course. His body could recover from injuries, but maybe not to this extent. Not with how the horn of the Behemoth literally pierced the organ that was his heart. He could feel it flutter erratically offbeat.

At first, Ardyn could feel himself panic. The body’s natural way of attempting to get its host to keep fighting for survival. However, this was what he wanted to begin with. Ardyn’s reason for traveling to Insomnia to confront Noctis was for this very purpose. He wanted to die and remain dead. Whatever it took. At the realization, Ardyn felt the corner of his lips turn into a smile as he fell onto his back. He closed his eyes, knowing it would all be over soon.

“Ardyn! Ardyn!”

Caelan’s screams caused Ardyn to open his eyes, watching as a blurry figure began to approach. He could feel the ground underneath him shudder as she fell and skidded to his side, hoisting him upright. He groaned, trying to push her back with a bloody hand that she slapped away.

“Ardyn, stay with me. Stay with me, please. Ardyn, please you need to let me see. Ardyn--Ardyn. Oh, gods,” Caelan was struck with horror seeing the damage. The gaping hole in his chest continued to ooze with blood and other fluids. His mouth, throat, and clothes had been tarnished by deep shades of red. Her hand that wasn’t supporting him pressed tightly to the area, trying to offer a tourniquet while she gently pushed him back down and desperately rummaged through the small pack on her side to pull out medical supplies.

“C-come here,” Ardyn murmured, using what was left of his strength to pull Caelan to him. His bloody hands cupped her face, fingers shaking as his thumbs carded against her skin. He blinked a few times, his almost lifeless eyes staring right up into Caelan’s.

In a state of delusion, Ardyn saw Aera crying over his body. She looked beyond morose for the nature of his circumstances. Tremendous guilt etched across Ardyn’s features as he lifted his head to meet Aera’s lips with his own. It was a weak and gentle kiss, but even in death, he couldn’t bare to see he caused this kind of suffering to her. She already had been through so much because of him. More than anyone should’ve.

“A-Aera, don’t be--” Before he could finish, everything became black.

Caelan was beside herself. Her eyes filled with shock as the warmth of Ardyn’s lips and his own blood were left upon her mouth. Her own pulse began to beat heavily against her ribcage, her mind froze in disturbance until Ardyn seemingly passed out.

“Ardyn?” Caelan shook him several times, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Ardyn?!” She shouted, nearly screaming right at him to wake up.

Cradling him in her arms, she started sobbing. Not able to help it. She knew the fault of his death wasn’t her burden to carry, he had been the one to put himself in harm's way to keep the Behemoth from destroying her. Alas, it didn’t absolve her of guilt. If Caelan hadn’t agreed to this Hunt in the first place, if she had listened to him before about finishing the creature off, he wouldn’t be dying in her hold. She screamed out loud, pressing her hand more tightly to his chest to keep the blood from spilling loose.

“Damn it! I’m not going to be responsible for someone else’s death!” Caelan shouted.

Caelan shut her eyes, her teeth gritting as she could feel a powerful vibration radiate from her fingertips. Revelation and alarm traced over her features as she gasped. A quick burst of pain traveled down her arm and a faint hue of yellow illuminated from where she had pressed onto Ardyn’s chest. She was fearful. The trauma of seeing the state Ardyn was in along with this strange phenomenon was enough to make her want to pull away. However, there was a voice in the back of her head telling her to apply more pressure. To keep her hand at bay and let whatever this was, do its job.

Scared out of her wits Caelan pushed her palm to the wound more. The numbing pain that traveled down her arm grew worse, but she wouldn’t relent. Not until her body gave out, would she dare. She closed her eyes, straining her voice as the pain ebbed and flowed through her arm like a vice. As soon as the light began to fade from her hands did she hear the burst of breath escape through Ardyn. His eyes remained closed, yet Caelan could hear the faint whispers of his breath leave his nostrils. He was alive. He was still alive.

Retrieving her hand away, Caelan swallowed as she pulled back more of his bloody and torn shirt to reveal his flesh. Most of the gape had been sealed, save for some small pockets. The blood had receded, and she couldn’t see any bones or internal organs threatening to come out. His skin remained pink and scratched up with faint outlines of her fingertips, but it was as if Ardyn had never been impaled.

“Holy shit,” Caelan breathed out, looking down at her hand and then back to his chest, now moving up and down without issue as he slept. Somehow, a mere mortal such as herself had healed him. Caelan had healed Ardyn with magic.

This wouldn't have been a problem if not for one thing: Caelan didn't possess any magic by herself. She was terrified at the implications as she held Ardyn close, looking around before deciding to make her next move.

#ardyn #ardyn izunia #fanfic #fanfiction #story #ffxv #final fantasy xv #ff fanfic #original characters

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mggpleasedontlookhere · 4 years ago

Text

checkmate

summary: where y/n and spencer live in a world of soulmates; but how magical can it really be when the last words of your lover are the only indication of their existence.

word count: 7,054 reading time aprox: 26 mins

warnings: character death, angst

a/n: this is my comeback fic, I hope you like it. I made sure to make it extra angsty to compensate for my disappearance :) also this fic can be read by anyone!

masterlist

Chess is a meticulous endeavor, not only in its cold and calculated nature, but also in the player’s ability to detect insecurity flash across their opponents' eyes, the unconscious idiosyncrasies that foretell future moves, and the slow descent into hopelessness that disintegrates the former’s conviction. Most will point out the cruelty of the game, how callous it must be knowing your end eight moves before it happens. However, others will oppose this notion as it is the game; one must lose to win.

It’s all a matter of who plays their pieces right.

Before that pivotal moment, players can only maneuver through a black and white arena. Fingertips would drum in anticipation while the other would hover over their pieces, striding across the board with purpose. Regardless of the disparity between the players’ experience or skill, there is always one factor, unmoved by player attributes, that is not a disadvantage nor luxury for either party: time.

Even in the checkered plane, nothing will matter. The players will cease to move, forced to end the game by the lack of time. This mechanism in nature acts as a failsafe if either individual is unable to conclude the game. In other words, there are only two outcomes: winning the game by will or letting time take that will away from you.

However, what is not noticed is the growing ache in the winner’s chest, disappointment beginning to fester inside of them because of their loss in deciding. In that split realization, the winner is placed on an equal plane as the loser, wondering if they ever really won at all.

This middle plane is beautiful and tragic simultaneously—maybe the beauty is in the tragedy. But as my palm leaves a bloodied handprint pressed against Spencer’s chest, all I can see is the world around me turning red.

Please be okay, please be okay for me

My mouth would silently mutter in tandem with his desperate and reaching touches, a mantra I convinced myself could surpass time, all while knowing my will was seized from me the moment Spencer uttered the words imprinted at my hip.

October 27th

2 days before

Water vapor collected around the coffee mug pressed to my lips. Although it’s ironic to call it a ‘coffee’ mug considering it was filled to the brim with scalding tea. The tips of my fingers and the skin of my palms tingled at the heat given off. My thoughts drifted to the explanation of the first law of thermodynamics that Spencer had kindly explained during the walk home from the night before.

An unconscious smile brushed over my lips briefly, reminiscing the blissful moments of the team gathered around a bar table after finishing up a briefing about a local case. A warm cloud of content passed through my chest while a lightness traveled from the bottoms of my feet to the summit of my forehead. The herbal tea traveling down my esophagus countered the cold nipping of the autumn air, bringing a welcome equilibrium to my wellbeing.

I shrugged the knitted blanket over my shoulders further, staring into the calming view that the apartment window provided. Across from the building was a small, abandoned park. Most of the neighbors had steered clear of the area as it didn’t meet anyone’s aesthetic standards—well, except for mine.

Half of the trees have lost their leaves, counting down the days to winter. The park benches were covered with tangled vines, even some lacking required wood boards. In summary, the place was an overgrown jungle that no one was willing to inhabit. In result, the once communal area was condemned by the normal folk for being ‘too dead.’ However, I would oppose those who claim the lack of life in the park considering life is not only just living, but it is to invite death.

In my observation of the park, a soft reflection suddenly appeared beside the yellow oak trees. In my peripheral, I can see my roommate creeping up behind me with his limbs moving catlike. I bit my bottom lip to conceal the amused huff threatening to escape me, instead settling to blowing over the steam rising from my cup.

Just before I saw his head bobble over my shoulder, arms stretched out above me, I whipped around his lanky figure and ducked under his arm. “You know for an agent; I expected a better performance.” An inaudible yelp interrupted the fit of giggles I was in as some of the tea spilled onto my blanket. “Now look what you’ve done! Do you know how hard it is to get dark liquids off cotton?”

“Just some hydrogen peroxide will do the trick,” Spencer shrugged, insisting to pull off the semi-damp blanket off my shoulders. “Plus, you messed up my bit!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was living with a five-year-old,” I teased, nudging him.

Spencer craned his neck to the side, letting the sore tendons and muscles stretch out from just waking up. All without forgetting to let out an obnoxious yawn in addition to his exaggeratedly extended arms. “I’ll have you know that this five-year-old has three PhDs and three bachelors,” he boasted.

“...and daddy issues.”

Before I can find a way to defend myself, the same blanket that brought me solace previously was transformed into an unmerciful whip. Spencer chased me around the couch until I slipped and toppled over the cushions, landing on the throw pillows. I buried my head into the leather arm, shutting my eyes, while I replicated the nature of Spencer’s antics by emitting ridiculous snores.

“You can’t touch me while I’m sleeping,” I murmured, feigning my slow lull to slumber. “It’s socially unacceptable.” During my spiel, Spencer had playfully grabbed my ankles and dragged me to a sitting position.

“SPENCER!” I gasped, clutching one of the pillows in hand and smacking him over the head with it. “You do not handle people like that! No wonder why you also have momm-”

Spencer’s palm gently nudged me back onto the couch mid-sentence, leaving my frame to hit the cushions with a loud thud. A boom of laughter filled the empty space of my chest, my breath thinning as dopamine jumped from my brain’s synapses. An enchanted smile caressed the corners of my mouth mirroring the one Spencer was sporting.

In these insignificant interactions, I would think back to the times where our comfortability was limited and reveled on how much our friendship grew over the years. There was a sense of solace that overwhelmed me knowing that introducing—and working on his—humor brought an auspicious light to the darkness that often clouded his mind.

My lungs deflated with a hefty exhale, my arm slinging across my eyes in relaxation. Clamored feet and the rug shifting against the wood floor caught my attention. Freeing my line of vision, I was met with a raggedy-haired genius with barely a foot between us. I reached out to comb through his locks, the webbing of my hands catching the tangled curls. “You need to shower greasehead.”

“Actually, the buildup of sebum and laloin in the gland of the hair follicles—coined as the sebaceous gland—offers moisture and protection, given that it is regulated upon its natural equilibrium.” Spencer leaned into the soft touch of my fingers, like how a kitten purrs against their owner’s affection.

“Well, I don’t know about you almost-birthday-boy, but I don’t think you want to go into the next chapter of your life smelling like you just changed out of your first diaper.” I pushed myself up the couch, gesturing Spencer to the hallway bathroom. “This is the big 31!”

“Y/N, we had a party for my 30th. I think I’m good to last for the decade,” he huffed, walking towards his bedroom to grab a change of clothes.

“That’s not the spirit, Dr. Reid!” I yelled across the room. “I swear Spence, you’re the only person who’d turn down a party... And, you even turned down Rossi’s invitation to go all out in his backyard.”

“Another year to celebrate the ever-closing gap between my time on earth and my imminent demise—oh, and how can I forget celebrating it in an open space full of ticks and pollen,” Spencer sarcastically jested, his voice bouncing off the thin white walls.

“At least you’d know your soulmate, right? Then I wouldn’t be the only one to deal with your ‘Debby Downer’ ass,” I added on, rolling my eyes at his usual pessimistic rulings.

“I would prefer nihilistic, but if that vernacular serves you then to each their own.”

“Hey, maybe after you die, I and your soulmate can mourn over you—bond and all that—and then I can steal them away,” I teased.

I looked to the lightning bolts etched into the crevices of my thighs, my fingertips tracing each design until it fell onto the carved words at my hip. In a way, the stretch marks made beautiful vines attached to the faded letters, covering the obvious red scratch marks that had resurfaced from my bad habits.

I kissed my fingertips before planting them back onto the markings, chuckling to myself of the intimate gesture. Unconsciously, I began to rub at the tattooed words once again, hating how their protrusion made my skin crawl.

“I mean I’m dead, what can I really do?” Spencer called out, stopping in his tracks when he reached the bathroom door. He faced me as he spoke, going on about his birthday celebration tomorrow—half of his speech unheard to me—until he requested my immediate attention. “You have to stop picking at the words, Y/N. You’re going to end up hurting yourself.”

“I know, I know,” I sighed, letting my dominant hand fall to my side. A pout fell on my lips at the loss of the small satisfaction scratching granted me. “But the words are just so uncomfortable sometimes. I mean you got lucky with the whole soulmate placement.”

Spencer brought his free hand to his chest, thumb tracing over the small words typed on the skin. “Yeah, I guess I did get lucky huh.” A soft smile grazed over his lips while his eyes were still trained on the unknowing figure resting against the couch.

“What does your marking read aga-”

“Spence, what’s it say on your che-”

I groaned in playful disbelief at the coincidental timing. “You know at this point I’m starting to think we’re telepathic, Spencer.”

“That’s actually what my tattoo is,” he laughed. “It’s my name.”

“Oh yeah,” I nodded, remembering the first time we brought it up in the early days of meeting one another. “Must’ve saved a lot of name tags in elementary school” I teased.

Spencer shook his head, shuffling into the bathroom with a lightness in his steps. With the closing of the door, my gaze fell onto the marking once again.

Regardless of the mechanics of soulmates, I was never worried about the possibility of not meeting them. I was already at my happiest knowing shared moments like these were good enough. However, unbeknownst to my ideal wishes, an irking desire still lingered in the back of my head while fingers hovered over the imperfect skin.

October 28th

1 day before

“Kid, you can’t sit there and tell me that finding your soulmate can be ‘scientifically extrapolated.’ That’s not the point,” Morgan amusingly shook his head at Spencer, ruffling the top of his head as he brushed past him.

“Okay,” Spencer tutted, “tell me. What ‘is’ the point then?”

“Well, all I’m saying is that finding your soulmate—if you have one—is supposed to come supernaturally.”

“Morgan, did you just try to win over boy genius here by talking about the supernatural?” With a tilted smirk, I nursed the half-filled flute between my fingertips. My gaze flickered over to a pleased brainiac sharing the same mischievous glint found in my eyes. I let my head fall back against the couch cushions, my eyes fluttering close to the sound of grown children bickering.

“Alright,” Morgan raised his hands up in defense. “All I was pointing out was that things like these can’t be solved by numbers and science.”

“The same can be said about Newtonian physics, but look where we a-”

Morgan flung a ball of crinkled wrapping paper Spencer’s way, aiming for his head. Spencer attempted to dodge the projectile—emphasis on attempted—only to have it hit him square in the face.

“So much for those Newtonian physics, huh?” I teased while getting up to open another bottle of champagne. Spencer slouched in his chair, the paper cone hat on his head shifting to the side. A grimace replaced the smirk he initially wore, muttering about how he was going to get Morgan back.

“Y/N! Bring that bottle over here when you’re done.” Morgan called out as I walked into the kitchen, pausing the ongoing discussion of the case we planned to tackle. “Also, bring another juice box for Reid here!”

A chorus of laughter followed my ears which each step, a grin finding the corners of my lips. I rose to the tips of my toes to reach for the unopened bottle in the alcohol cabinet. I made my way to the freezer, taking out the bucket of ice I stored away hours ago. When closing the appliance door, my eyes landed on a picture magnetized to the surface.

It was a physical reminder of the time that Spencer convinced me to dress up as Amy Pond, the eleventh doctor’s sidekick, for comic con. He too was dressed up in the doctor’s attire: a brown corduroy suit, a bowtie, and a sonic screwdriver. We both had silly grins planted on our faces, it seemed like nothing could tear down the joyous bubble we were in. Upon reflecting on the memory, the kitchen door swung open revealing a merry Spencer.

“Hey, I was supposed to be getting you that juice box,” I joked.

Spencer shook his head, pushing past me to get to the cupboard. “Very funny,” he droned, sarcasm dripping off his words. I leaned against the counter, setting the bucket of ice to the side. I analyzed his movements, noticing how often he fidgeted with his fingers or how his legs would clumsily turn inward at times.

“You know,” he paused, turning around to face me, “In some countries ruled by military dictatorship, staring could be deemed as a call for execution.”

I crossed my arms, challenging him. “Well last time I checked; we aren’t in any of those countries. Is that right, Dr. Reid?”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled. “Did you need anything?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Well, by the way you were checking me out, I would think you needed something.” He sauntered over to the opposite counter across the kitchen, hoisting himself up on the granite. I watched as the casual smirk fell off his face after failing his initial attempt to sit. The second attempt proved to be better, although that didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes at his impotence.

“You know,” I repeated his words, grabbing the champagne and ice bucket as I began to stroll out of the room. “I’m really starting to think you have a better chance at ‘extrapolating’ your soulmate rather than finding them.”

“Wait!”

I whipped around to face him with furrowed eyebrows. I nodded for him to continue, watching as a sly expression reappeared on his face. “You forgot my juice.”

I sighed, setting the items back down on the counter before reaching for the fridge. “You are a grown man, Spence,” I gesticulated at the boy. I grabbed Spencer’s favorite sparkling water and left it aside. “You couldn’t get your own?” I raised my eyebrows at him, ducking out of the refrigerator door.

He crossed his legs, still propped up on the counter. “Well, you did call me a five-year-old and it is my birthday,” he argued, shrugging his shoulders tauntingly.

“I said that the other day, and considering it’s your birthday, that would mean you’d be old enough to conduct yourself,” I countered.

“Actually, it’s grammatically inappropriate to say, ‘the other day’ when the event in question occurred yesterday,” he began to ramble. With an unimpressed nod, I began to slowly back away from the scene until I was abruptly stopped once again.

“Wait!”

“What!”

“You forgot to put it in a cup,” he meekly suggested, his face evident of mischief.

“You’re clearly enjoying this aren’t you?” I groaned, shuffling towards where he was. “I’ll give you something to enjoy...” I whispered to myself.

With a plan set in motion, I sauntered over to where Spencer sat. Once I was in front of him, I made sure to give no indication that I was moving beside him. Instead, I leaned forward, letting our chests press together as I reached up for a mug. I would be lying if I denied the faint blush warming up the apples of my cheeks or the tightness of my throat from this proximity. In a nervous hash, I could’ve sworn hearing Spencer’s breath hitch as my chin brushed against his neck.

Feigning a confident disposition, I dropped back to the heels of my feet, finding myself to be inches away from the enamored and naive genius. “You need this?” I murmured, trying to maintain a collected tone of voice. However, Spencer did make it difficult with the intensity of his penetrating gaze or the way his breath fanned over my sensitive skin.

For a lasting moment, I began to dissect the small specks of hazel hues in his eyes and how a dark pool of brown surrounded his irises. The tip of his nose was flushed in crimson and his mouth hung in what seemed like anticipation and hesitation battling it out. “Uh, yeah... thank you.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, linking his fingers with mine to take the mug.

Without breaking eye contact, he set the mug aside and away from view. I opened my mouth to say something, but I soon discovered a dessert residing in the back of my throat. Slowly my composure unraveled, leaving me and Spencer in a purgatory of uncertainty and elation. I heard my heart thump against the walls of my ribcage as my eyes traveled to the parting of his lips, his tongue ever so often swiping against the skin.

I shook my head out of the trance we were in, popping the hypnotic bubble forming around us. With a trepidatious smile, I gestured to the living room, suggesting going back out there. “Do you want to...” I tied my hands behind my back, stepping away from him slowly. He nodded in response; his mouth tightly pressed into an awkward line.

With less than obvious movements, we both tiptoed our way back to the liveliness of the other room, soon forgetting about the juice and cup all together.

“Bye guys, thank you for coming! See you tomorrow.” I politely bid everyone a farewell, sending them safe wishes home as they excited through the front door. “Pen, are you coming with us tomorrow?” I received a tipsy nod and a few stumbling feet, but nonetheless confirmation for the case. Spencer was to the left of me doing the same, enduring some last-minute birthday teasing from Morgan before he made his exit.

With the slow creaking of the door, I leaned against the wood, letting my legs slowly slip down the floor until I was sitting. I tilted my head up, staring at an exhausted Spencer before making grabby hands at him. He snorted at the childlike request, aggressively pulling at my wrists until I landed into his chest.

“Alright birthday boy, just because you’re older doesn't mean you can get all strong on me,” I warned, nuzzling my heavy head onto his shoulder. A pleasant silence surrounded us, our bodies maintaining an equal balance as we leaned onto each other. On another note, it reminded me of Newton’s principle of force that Spencer explained to me a few months back. How Newton’s cradle, a simple office trinket, exemplified conservation of momentum and energy. In this fragment of space, it felt like that with Spencer—it always felt like that: a comfortable momentum.

“Hey Spence?”

The quiet continued to spread throughout the atmosphere.

“Spencer?” I pressed my chin against his chest, feeling his arms find their way to my lower back. He hummed in response, his eyelids resting at a closed position. “I’m sorry about that thing in the kitchen... I was just messing around.”

He took a while to react before sighing and pressing a tired kiss to the side of my head; with that, I knew things were okay. “Oh! I didn’t give you your present yet.”

I melted away from his arms, scurrying off to the couch. In an exaggerated reveal, I pulled a small parcel from beneath the cushions, glee filling my eyes as I watched the bow on top spring out. I extended my arms towards Spencer, eager to have him open it.

He walked tentatively towards me, taking purposefully leisurely strides. At one point he began to act like he was in a slow-motion sequence, causing me to threaten the integrity of his present. With raised hands, he sat next to me on the couch and gently pried the gift from my hands. “What did you get me this time? Let me guess. From the size and shape of his package here,” he turned the box around in his hands, shaking it up, “and the sound to force ratio-”

“Just open the damn thing, Spence.”

He smiled at my usual impatience, letting his fingers glide against the edge of the parcel. Finally, with gentle hands, he picked apart the wrapping paper, careful not to rip the heart sticker that held the presentation together. He gathered the bow in his palm, and gently pressed the sticky side of the accessory to my cheek.

I cringed at the feeling, but that soon dissipated hearing the mollified chuckle escape Spencer’s mouth. With a determined huff, Spencer pulled the last pieces of wrapping paper from the box and was left with a frayed book in his palm.

“The Parliment of Foweles...” he whispered; an unreadable expression crossed his features.

I curled into my own body, anticipating some form of reaction. “I... I remember you told me the first time we really sat down and got to know each other that your mom used to read that to you when you were younger.” I picked at the stitches on the couch, a lump forming in my esophagus as my tongue swelled. “It’s first edition...” I smiled, insecurity beginning to conquer my excitement from before.

“Sorry, if you don’t like it... I was just-”

A pair of arms pulled me into a secure embrace while a tender hand came around to cup the back of my head. An inaudible expression of gratitude was lost in between babbles of endearment and soft caresses. Spencer pulled away with pools of adoration, he clutched the book in hand as he pulled me under his arm. He ran his thumb along the deckles that adorned the sides of the pages, his palm tenderly feeling the roughness of the old woven spine.

To open the book, he singled out a random page and lightly flicked a few pages to the side before I halted his movements completely. “Wait!” I requested. “I want you to read it after the case so we can do it together,” I sheepishly tucked a hair behind his ear, hiding the careful blush on my cheeks. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah...that’s fine with me,” he breathed, his eyes locked onto the soft curves of my face. I pulled my hand away, tugging my sleeve further down my arm. “Oh! That reminds me.” Spencer places the book behind him and headed over the coat rack next to the front door. Sliding his hands through various pockets, he finally pulled a small box from one of the compartments.

He tentatively approached me, turning the object in hand. “I know it’s my birthday, but... I wanted to do something because you’ve made everything better in these past years,” he confessed, fidgeting as he came closer. “Being with my mother always felt like home, and I just... you became that for me, so thank you.”

My fingers reached over to his open palm, approaching the velvet box as if it was fragile. I glazed over its general shape, turning it a few times between my hands. “Spencer...I don’t even know what to say.”

“Well, you can start by opening it,” he smiled.

I shook my head, gently prying the box open. Inside laid a beautiful heart-shaped necklace with words etched into the metal. Once I read the words, a heavy breath escaped my lungs, and my shoulders lost all tension. “Spencer...”

“I thought that it would be easier to have the words of your soulmate above your heart rather than you tracing over your hip,” he professed. “I also know that even if you deny not having any connection to this soulmate thing, it often brings you comfort when needed.”

My attention went to him the second he uttered those words. “How did you know,” I mumbled with an enamored chuckle.

“Well, whenever we’re in the field, I could tell the times you get nervous or need reassurance by the way you subtly touch your hip.”

“I thought staring was punishable by death,” I joked, referring to his argument earlier today.

He brushed it off with a wide smile, combing his hands through his hair. “I know we have a hefty case tomorrow based on what Penelope showed us last briefing, so I hoped that this would make you feel better,” he confessed, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into the arm of the couch.

“Thank you, Spencer...really,” I wrapped my arms above my head, trying to attach the unlocked chain around my neck. “Can you...?”

With gracious hands, he lifted the chain from my fingertips and wrapped it around my neck. The skin of his fingers would occasionally brush the back of my neck, sending euphoric chills down my spine. I felt myself squirm under his touch slightly, although it wasn’t enough to be obvious. Lifting my hair to the side with his wrist, he clasped the necklace together, letting the cold metal kiss the skin.

I turned around, appreciating the trinket in my hands. I shook my head in disbelief, watching as some of the moonlight that seeped through the window reflected off the metal. “Thank you, again, Spencer.” I nodded, bringing him into a meaningful embrace. My head rested in the crook of his neck, an aroma of pine, vanilla, and old books surrounding us. “This really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever possessed.”

He scoffed, gently wrapping his hands around the small of my back. “Everything pales in comparison to you.”

October 29th

...

I twirled the metal heart in between my fingers as Hotch’s words failed to reach my ears. I would look up occasionally to see the pictures, but we’ve been dealing with an unsub who showed no mercy to anything morally reprehensible. I sighed, swinging my feet under me as I pretended to be enveloped by the case file in my other hand.

“Since we’re dealing with a L.D.S.K-”

“A long-distance serial killer,” Emily intercepted, nodding towards the team.

“We’ll have SWAT patrol the surrounding rooftops. Emily and I will stay with the defense team here.” Hotch pointed to the house of the unsub’s target. “Morgan, Y/N, and Reid will go through the floors of the apartment building with the strike team—witnesses stated that he was located on the 5th floor, but we have to be ready for anything.”

I looked over to Morgan with a determined expression. His face hardened at the words and his lips was pressed into a tight line. In my peripheral, I could see the way his veins would constrict against the skin as he clenched his fists.

This case hit him particularly hard considering we couldn’t save the unsub’s last victim. It was a 4-year-old little girl, and we were misinformed about her possible location. By the time we got to her, she was faced down into a park well with a single bullet hole above her heart. I watched the slow diffusion of her blood, and how the water turned to a murky black. I couldn’t imagine Morgan’s guilt considering he was so sure of himself when reaching a breakthrough with the unsub’s whereabouts. The parents of the child would soon blame Morgan for his ignorance, spewing derogatory slurs in their distress.

“We’ll get him Hotch,” Morgan assured, “This time, we’ll get him.”

Spencer noticed the certitude in his voice, sharing a look with me to give extra attention to Morgan out in the field. I smiled at him, warmed at the concern that the genius had over his friend.

“I’ll be working with local PD to hold a press conference to keep the public on the lookout,” JJ expressed, crossing her arms.

“Since...last time, we figured that unsub finds enjoyment in toying with us or singling us out. So, keep each other in check and make sure to report back in your earpieces every five minutes.” Hotch himself seemed perturbed by the unsub’s earlier actions considering he had his own toddler to deal with. “Penelope has sent the coordinates to everyone. Remember the profile, and don’t leave yourselves vulnerable. We’re dealing with an elusive unsub that won’t stop at nothing to satisfy himself,” Hotch spoke with a quiver in his voice.

I bit the inside of my cheek and breathed heavily through my mouth. My hands began to drift to my hip but momentarily stopped as I remembered the chain around my neck. I slumped into the chair as Hotch dismissed the team, sending them out for their respective assignments.

“You, okay?” I whipped around to the sound of JJ’s voice. She leaned against the doorframe with an expression full of concern. Looking behind her, she noticed Spencer noticeably pacing through the bullpen waiting for a specific someone. He attempted to disguise his eagerness by counting tiles on the floor or squares on the ceiling, but to JJ he was easily discernable.

I let a dry laugh, shaking my head. “After what happened, I’m a bit worried—not about me—but Morgan and Spence.” I swiveled around in the office chair a few times until I landed in front of JJ.

“You know you fidget the same way as Spence,” she pointed out, grinning at the similarity. I shook off the oncoming warmth that flooded the skin and looked elsewhere. “You’re right to worry about both of them though. But you know how stubborn and determined they are.” As she began to walk out, she left a lingering message that soothed my nerves. “Plus, Spencer may have that IQ of his, but we all know runs things between you all.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’ve always kept a watchful eye over the both of them—maybe Spencer a little more—but nonetheless, I deeply cared about both of them. It was relieving to know that Spencer’s circle of trust exponentially grew from Morgan to JJ to me. It symbolized the growth that Spencer was mostly oblivious to, but it meant more to me than I can explain, seeing how he opened himself up to happier possibilities.

A sharp exhale left my lungs while my lips formed into a sly smirk. Without another minute to wait, I left the round table behind JJ, leaving Spencer to stop dawdling. “You ready genius?” I walked out into the hall, not sparing a glance at the figure trailing behind me.

“With you? Always.”

“Nothing here,” a voice confirmed in my earpiece. My gun hung low in my hands while I tiptoed through the floor of the apartment building. “You know Y/N, if I knew that the unsub was going to the pick a building in the area we resided in, maybe I would’ve considered having the party at Rossi’s instead,” Spencer joked.

I bit the smile growing on my lips, focusing on the assignment on hand.

“Maybe after the case, instead of reading that book in our apartment we can go over to that small library/cafe we’ve been meaning to go to,” he continued to drone, forgetting about the connection of everyone’s channels.

“Reid, if all you’re gonna do is flirt with Y/N, leave the damn channel,” Morgan warned. Hearing the worry in his tone, Spencer straightened up, coughing to cover up his soft apology. Being separated didn’t help the irrational thoughts that built up in the back of my conscience; I can’t even comprehend what’s probably going through Morgan’s head.

“You good?” I mumbled into the com; my eyes straightforward while I advanced towards the hall. Morgan didn’t respond, an inaudible huff coming through the speakers.

“I’m moving up to the top floor. Y/N and Reid, go back down to the basement and see if we missed anything,” Morgan broke the awkward silence with an austerity in his words. The silent hum that came afterwards was worse than earlier. I turned off my earpiece, sensing a conversation about to ensue between the two gentlemen.

The thickness in the atmosphere was similar to the air that surrounded me and Spencer when competing in recreational chess. Whenever I attempted to put his king in check, he would block the move by maneuvering another piece in front of it. This would lead to a game of cat and mouse until I would figure out that the entire time, Spencer had been deluding me into false security while checking my king piece. Ultimately, I would lose to Spencer. However, there were games where I’d outmaneuver him or win by dumb luck.

I’d like to think that I developed some sort of intuition for his behavior from playing against him, but he’s deemed unpredictable every game. He was always sharp, eight steps ahead and aware of all possibilities. I guess that’s what make him an effective profiler, always thinking in the future.

I ran down the stairs, still armed, when Penelope’s voice ran through the earpiece. “Updates! Updates people.” The joy in her voice always relived me of the gloom that usually surrounded me in the field; hopefully she has the same effect on Morgan.

“Hey, Pen.” An invisible grin was evident in my words, knowing she’d pick up on it.

“Hello, my love, seems like at least one person is happy to see me,” she verbally jabbed at the lack of response from Spence and Morgan.

Still no response.

“Sorry, they’re working out their marriage at the moment,” I teased, hoping for the usual distasteful comment I usually get from Morgan.

Still nothing.

An unnerving feeling crept up the back of my neck. “Penelope, can you check if their coms are still workin—shit.” Before I could finish, a long buzz of static came through the speakers. The only comprehensible words that were picked up was the beginning of my name before cutting off.

I bit my lip, pulling out the small piece of technology and tapping it a few times. “Come on... dammit.” After playing around with the earpiece, I grew frustrated with it and stuffed it into my pocket.

I paced in the small landing between the stairs, thinking of a new gameplan. I ran my fingers through the ends of my hair, feeling the split ends prick at the skin. I felt a mountain growing in at the bottom of my stomach, leaving my esophagus constricted without air. “What would Spencer do,” I mumbled to myself, gripping onto my necklace.

“Spencer...Spencer...”

Before I could finish the mantra, a shot rang out from above me, and the crashing off glass followed. In the split moment, my legs grew a mind of its own and sprinted to higher ground. Suddenly, the sweat perspiring off me turned cold, and my heartbeat slammed itself into my spinal cord as I ran. My feet forgot its exhaustion while my mind devoured every irrational thought, and combined it with adrenaline.

The single thing that drove me over my limits was knowing that the person who fabricated and would shoo away these thoughts was somewhere I didn’t know I could get to in time.

Spencer’s POV

I tiptoed into a vacant suite of the building, still antsy about the scolding I received from Morgan. The conversation after didn’t help considering it was all a reminder to be aware and focused on the task at hand. I knew Morgan was filled with the need for redemption despite the team forgiving him of his ignorance. So, I shook off the creeping feeling and abided by his instructions.

Deciding to update Y/N and Morgan about my whereabouts, I spoke into the coms only to have static come out of it. I tried once again but failed to reach anyone. The room around me shrank as a sharp exhale left my lungs. I swallowed the buildup of saliva in the back of my throat, feeling uneasy about not knowing what’s to come.

Seeing at the area was clear, I looked out of one of the windows. Initially I cringed at the accumulated dirt and grime in the glass panes, but that all dissipated when I spotted the quaint park that Y/N loved. No one else had any interest in the community lot, seeing as people would coin it—or what Y/N would tell me—the park of death. But to her, she saw the opposite as she always does.

The light feeling of reminiscing my interactions with Y/N soothed the disconcerting atmosphere, keeping me grounded. Although the sentiment ended as soon as it started when I spotted one of the apartment walls was spray-painted with black letters.

Zugzwang

A blaring shot rang out and glass shattered into the room. I ducked into the floor, shutting my eyes. My head spun as the boom impaired my hearing. The window was forcibly open, the shards resting beside me. Left disoriented, I groaned, only feeling the after wave of vibrations on the ground. However, I soon found out that the quake of the floor wasn’t from the initial shot, but the rapid clobbering of feet inching closer to the suite and a shadowy figure preceding it.

Y/N emerged from the doorframe, panting. Eyes were laced in fear while they bore into my own. My stomach twisted into knots from previous events while I contemplated what had occurred. The presence of Y/N wasn’t even strong enough to relinquish the egging feeling crawling in my skin. I anticipated Morgan to appear, considering he was closer to the scene.

Where was he?

Another thing I didn’t anticipate, a second shot.

“Spencer?”

January 3rd

Three months after

My thoughts antagonized one another while I stared out into the world from the eerily quiet apartment. The living room was cold and empty despite the array of furniture scattered about and the broken picture frames lining the walls. The vapor rising from the cup of tea drifted into the air, vanishing into nonexistence. It’s funny how that could happen in a matter of milliseconds.

The pain the lived inside the chambers of my heart was no match for the burning of skin I felt when holding onto the steaming cup. The only worthy adversary would be the rush of self-resentment that coursed through me when picking up the book. I deserved it though. I deserved the spikes through my stomach while my fingers trailed the deckled pages, reminding me of the first time I held the book, its previous owner present with me.

I would remember our time together.

I would remember the promise shared between us.

I would remember the bloodied handprint pressed against my chest.

Now all I had was the physical manifestation of what’s left: the necklace. As cruel as it was for me, I kept it in the book, using it as a bookmark while I lost myself into poems. After a while, the inked words lost their meaning to me, becoming an empty cacophony that encased the jewelry.

Every time I grasped the chain in my clutches, a numbed ache would make itself known at the pit of my stomach. It clawed at my intestines and made the entirety of my body system obsolete. With that, I was abandoned with the sinister hauntings of my own mind—a part of me that I was once praised for.

A genius. A prodigy. Hidden behind the real mess of a guilty man.

I ignored the smashed chess board and pieces that laid still at my feet, concentrating on the snowflakes that littered the park across from the building. The grounds looked beautiful, covered in layers of pure white. I sipped at the tea once more letting my mind deteriorate with a sophisticated nonchalance.

What a tragedy it was to know my soulmate, especially right under the tip of my nose. What a cruel joke life had played.

I wished I had more time.

It was easier to let the guilt consume me rather than pondering on what I lost—who I lost. Had I lost myself too? Maybe, it didn’t matter. In some masochistic way, I enjoyed the guilt because it was a way to remember that at one point someone made for me existed. I used it to relive the moments I could never get back.

All that remained was an empty shell of a man, staring out into a dull world, wondering how time took everything away from him.

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heyyyharry · 3 years ago

Text

Deep End - Chapter 12: Dirty Dreams

…in which Harry and Ezi kiss again…and again…and again… (THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT)

Word count: 4.6k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

Harry didn’t understand dreams. How did dreams even work? Because sometimes he would see someone he hadn’t seen in years in his dreams, even though he had completely forgotten about the person’s existence up to that point. Then there were these super violent and bloody dreams that woke him in the middle of the night in cold sweats. Then, there were some other more inappropriate dreams that made him so disappointed when the alarm rang.

Listen, Harry wasn’t a pervert. He didn’t think about sex 24/7; well, not usually. But lately, he’d been having dirty dreams more often than he would enjoy. He would wake up with his dick rock hard and end up late for work because he had to stroke one out in the shower. And he blamed it on…

“Ezi! Where are your pants? And why are you wearing my shirt?”

Ezi stopped in the kitchen doorway with a bowl of ice cream in one hand, the other holding a spoon in her mouth. “This is my new ‘at home’ look,” she said, while leaning against the door in nothing but his button-up shirt that fell just past her bum. As if the sight wasn’t torturing enough, she had to be licking ice cream from the fucking spoon. It was eight in the fucking morning! And Harry would not go back to the bathroom to wank again.

“But where are your shirts? Why don’t you wear them?” he asked and slipped past her into the kitchen. He would make himself a cup of coffee so he wouldn’t have to watch her being effortlessly sexy in the kitchen doorway.

“They said on the internet that you should borrow your boyfriend’s shirt, and you’re my fake boyfriend.”

“Fair enough,” Harry chuckled.

She gave him a shy smile and left without saying another word. That was the longest conversation they’d had since that night she went out on a date with Dawson. Ezi was always a little bit weird. Okay, well, very weird. But her weirdness had been different lately, in a bad way. She was still doing weird things, but keeping a distance from him.

Harry knew he couldn’t really complain, since he’d specifically told her to her face that he preferred it when it was just him and the cat. Having his own space had been nice for a day or two, then he’d started missing how annoying she’d been. And of course, he blamed this all on Dawson.

Harry had been second to Dawson his whole life. Ever since he’d been a kid and found out that he’d had a cousin, Dawson had been nothing but a burden for Harry. Harry was the only child, but to his parents, Dawson had been their favourite son. His father used to love sports, but Harry had never been a fan of those. Dawson, on the other hand, had been the captain of the school’s football team and was excellent at marathons as well. So if Harry’s father was still alive, Dawson would be the one making him proud by taking over the family business Harry didn’t want.

Now, just as Harry had finally gained his own spotlight as a singer, becoming great at something Dawson wasn’t good at, Dawson swept in and stole Ezi.

Harry had spent a lot of time wondering why it had mattered so much to him that Ezi had gone on one date with his cousin. He didn’t even like her like that, and the house was always peaceful without her, which he enjoyed very much. But why did the idea of her becoming something with Dawson bother him so much? He hadn’t been sleeping well for the last couple of days. Not to mention that Ezi had started keeping distance from him. Well, he’d done it first because of the kiss, but it was weird when she did it because she had always been so fucking clingy. And he’d hated that. Until now!

Ding dong!

“What do you want?” Harry asked in the least annoyed tone he could pull off, while fighting the urge to slam the door in Dawson’s good-looking face.

“Is Ezi home?” Dawson asked.

“Ezi? You mean Ezili? Because I’m the only one who calls her Ezi.”

“Y-Yeah, Ezili,” Dawson said with an awkward smile. This guy was a tool. What did Ezi see in him?

“No, she’s at work,” Harry said, and quickly added, “but don’t think about going there. They’re having a book club meeting; she’d be mad if you showed up and distracted her.”

That was a lie. Harry didn’t even know if people actually hosted book club meetings at random book shops, but did it matter? If he was going to be petty, he must go all the way.

“What do you wanna meet her for?” he asked before Dawson could leave. He didn’t want to have a long conversation with Dawson about Ezi, but it was the only way to learn more about their date. “Did you do something that you wanna apologise for?”

“No. Of course not,” Dawson chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “She bought some books and forgot them in my car.”

“I could give them to her when she gets back from work,” Harry said.

Dawson looked hesitant. “Well, she told me not to give them to you.”

“Oh.” Harry kept a straight face, but he was very offended that she’d made that request. Did she really hate him so much for what he’d said that night?

“So,” he ventured, averting his eyes. “Guess the date went well?”

“I suppose,” Dawson said.

Harry had hoped for a different response. This one didn’t really hurt him but it didn’t make him happy, either. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “So are you looking forward to the second date?”

“I don’t think there’s gonna be one,” Dawson said, to Harry’s surprise. “I don’t think she likes me like that?”

Okay, this was the response Harry had been waiting for. He tried to suppress a grin as he patted his cousin’s shoulder sympathetically, while he was far from sympathetic. “Oh, don’t be so pessimistic. I know she’s a bit out of your league, but dare to dream a little.”

“Very funny,” Dawson snorted and brushed off Harry’s hand. “But I think she has a crush on you.”

“Really? I mean, no!” Harry faked a laugh, crossing his arm and leaning against the door in an unnatural pose. “No way.” Now he sounded like a commercial guy who had never attended a single acting class. “She doesn’t...she doesn’t have a crush on me,” he stuttered. “W-Why do you think so?”

Dawson pressed his lips into an understanding smile that made Harry’s face grow red. “All she talked about for the entire night was you.”

Harry thought Dawson was just teasing him at first. Then he remembered that this was Dawson, not him. So it was true. Ezi had talked about him for the whole night when she was with Dawson.

“What did she say?” Harry asked, trying to seem more curious than excited.

“She told me you were a good cook, and then complained about your bad habits. Then it was all ‘Harry said that’ and ‘Harry said this’. It seemed like she was really into you.”

“Oh, wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Harry shrugged, trying to act cool and all that. “I’m just surprised. I thought she hated me.”

“I mean, she can still hate you if she has a crush on you,” said Dawson. “Also, why is she staying with you? Where’s her family?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Why didn’t you ask her?”

“She kept mentioning her mother but nothing more than that, and she’d just change the subject whenever I tried to ask.”

Harry didn’t have enough time to think of a lie, so he blurted, “Her family was abusive.”

Dawson looked horrified, but he completely bought that. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. “She’s a lovely girl, though. I know that you don’t like her, but don’t break her heart. Turn her down nicely.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“You don’t like Ezili, right?” Dawson asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry laughed, uneasily. “I mean no, I don’t.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t wanna be in a relationship.”

Harry didn’t want to be in a relationship, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel things. He guessed most people would just assume he had no heart because it was easier for them to make sense of why he wouldn’t settle down. In reality it was more complicated than that. He had had feelings for some people in the past, and he’d shut them down before he got to the point of no return. Ezi might be a dangerous creature, but he’d probably hurt more people than she had, mostly himself.

So did he like Ezi? Yes. He’d just realised that when his heart blossomed to the thought of her thinking about him on a date with his cousin. There was no denying that, as he only felt this way about his own songs. But was he happy about it? Well, yeah, of course he was happy about it. He was over the moon even. Still, that didn’t mean he should do something about it. He would just keep it to himself and wait–No, hope for it to pass.

Later that night, when Ezi came home from work, she went straight into the kitchen to eat from the fridge, and Harry came downstairs to find her sitting on the floor, munching off a sandwich in the fridge light glow. He watched her for a moment from the door before deciding to break the silence.

She flinched when hearing her name. She turned around, sandwich still in her mouth. “Did Dawson stop by?” she asked. “He said he would bring me my books.”

“Yeah, he did. I put them in your room,” Harry said, trying his best not to roll his eyes at the mention of his cousin. But then he remembered what Dawson had told him and came to sit beside her on the floor.

She ignored him and continued eating. She looked nothing like someone who had a crush on him, so what if Dawson had lied to him? He had never heard a lie from Dawson, but it didn’t mean Dawson was incapable of lying.

“Ezi, I wanna ask you something,” he said.

She finished her sandwich and reached into the fridge of ice cream. “Go ahead,” she said.

Harry started fidgeting with his shirt. “Why won’t you tell me about that date with Dawson?”

Ezi didn’t look at him as she said, “Do I have to tell you? It was personal.”

“Well, your sister was there,” he reasoned, “and she’s tried to kill me several times so I think I deserve to know some details about that night.”

Yes, Harry was curious about Ezi’s sister as well, but was it bad to say that he wanted to know more about what Ezi thought of him? Was it bad that Ezi’s feelings for him mattered more than his stupid life?

“My sister wasn’t there the whole time,” Ezi sighed and dipped her spoon into the ice cream. “I got rid of her at the fair then went for dinner with Dawson.”

“Oh,” Harry said, watching her intently as she ate. “So—”

“My sister wanted me to go back home.”

Harry froze. “Why?” he blurted, suddenly anxious. “I mean…does your mother want you back? Not that I think she won’t ever want you back—”

“No.” Ezi rolled her eyes. “My sister wants me to go back in return of the throne, so she can be Queen and allow me back into the Queendom.”

“But you wanna Queen?”

“I’m going to be Queen!” Ezi snapped. Seeing the shocked look on Harry’s face, she softened her voice, “I’m the firstborn. I’m going to be Queen. I have a year to…” Her voice trailed off and she spaced out for a second.

“To what?”

Ezi pressed her lips into a tight smile then said, “To stay here. My sister told me that my mother would take me back in a year.”

“That’s the punishment?” Harry chuckled. “Make you stay in this world where a handsome man takes care of you and buys you stuff?” Maybe siren mums weren’t as bad as he’d thought.

“And also bullies me 24/7,” Ezi said.

“Hey!” Harry put up his hands. “You bully me, too.”

“You literally told me you didn’t want to see me around the house.”

“Yeah, well, I like seeing you around the house now.”

“Liar,” Ezi said and took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. Harry tried not to pay attention to the way she licked the spoon or think about licking ice cream from her lips, but he knew he was going to see a lot of that in his dreams tonight.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ezi held his gaze for two seconds, squinting her eyes. “Fine,” she said at last. “I forgive you.”

“Well, that was easy.”

“For now,” she added, putting the ice cream back into the fridge. “I’ll hate you again when I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry eighty percent of the time!”

“Yeah.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her amber to the kitchen door. Clenching his fingers, he asked, “When’s your birthday?”

Ezi turned her head. “March 12. Why?”

“So I can say happy birthday to you on March 12.”

“Oh, thanks. Not looking forward to it, though.”

“Also,” Harry said fast before she left. “Do you wanna go to a party with me?”

Niall had just reached one million followers on TikTok, so he’d thrown a huge party at his mansion and invited his friends who had brought their friends and their friends’ friends. So the most influential people in the entertainment industry were at the party tonight.

Jeff had suggested that Harry bring Ezi so they could do some PDA stuff at the party to make headlines for the next few days. At first, Harry had planned to make up some excuses so he could go alone.

He and Ezi hadn’t kissed since that day in his mother’s closet. Well, actually, they had had a few pecks on the lips in public, but it’d only been for the paparazzi. It was hard to think about romance when there were at least ten cameras pointing at you.

Their first kiss, however, had been real and…hot. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t know how Ezi felt since she never talked about it, but he had the impression that she had enjoyed it as much as he had. He couldn’t stop thinking about her flushed cheeks and plum lips as she pulled back, confused yet wanting more. In his dreams last night, they had been in that closet, but their clothes had been discarded, and he’d been pounding her against the wall. It was so hot. He’d had to wank twice when he woke up and he couldn’t make eye contact with Ezi in the kitchen during breakfast. Now he couldn’t get those images out of his mind.

“Harry.”

Harry jumped when his name was called. Ezi gave him a questioning look. She was wearing a little pink strap dress and her hair was in a high bun. She looked so cute tonight; his stylist had done a great job.

“You okay?” she asked, slipping her fingers into his. He knew it didn’t mean anything and she was only doing what Jeff had told her to. But he couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach from acting up. “It seemed like your soul left your body for a second.”

“Sorry, this loud music gives me a headache,” he said and finished his glass of wine. Ezi didn’t drink. “You wanna dance?”

Her gaze shot up in surprise. “Do you wanna dance?”

“What do you mean? I’m a fantastic dance partner.”

“But I’ve never danced before. I just got these legs a few weeks ago.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll be good at it, I’m sure. We’ll wait for a slow song.”

Niall walked by just in time to overhear the conversation, so he shouted, “Slow song for my besties Harry and Ezili!”

Harry tried to stop Niall, but it was too late. Everyone in Niall’s living room was staring at him and Ezi. Jeff would be happy about this, but Harry didn’t think Ezi was. Her fingers tightened around his as she stepped closer, apparently uncomfortable with the intrusive glances they were receiving.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her close. “We’ll show them how great we are.”

“But I’m not—”

He didn’t let her finish and drag her out on the dance floor. There were a few couples slow-dancing around them, but Harry knew he and Ezi were the attention of tonight. In these people’s eyes, they were in love, completely infatuated with each other.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered in Ezi's ear while fixing her posture. “It’s easy.”

For a human who had been to too many of these dances, it was. But Ezi was barely good at walking. And so she ended up stepping on his feet repeatedly. The giggles of some women in the room made her even more anxious, so she almost stopped. But he reassured her by pulling her closer and lifting her chin so she was looking at him instead of them.

“Don’t be nervous. This is your little mermaid moment. Embrace it,” he said, making her smile.

“Ariel was a terrible dancer.”

“True. But she looked pretty stepping on the Prince’s feet.”

Ezi arched an eyebrow, amused. “Are you calling yourself the Prince?”

“I almost got casted for the role of Eric, by the way.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes.

He acted offended. “No, it’s real.”

“As real as Santa Claus.”

“Santa Claus is real,” Harry argued. “Not you saying he isn’t when you’re literally a mythical creature.”

“Shut up,” she chuckled.

“Make me,” he replied.

Harry didn’t know who had initiated it. Maybe they had both leaned in at the same time. But this time as they shared a kiss in a crowded room, it felt like they were all alone in his mother’s closet once again. Of course he had to keep his hands respectfully on her lower back, but the kiss was still hot. He could feel himself being unravelled right there on the dance floor, and he liked the way her fingers twirled the hair at the back of his neck as they melted into one. But then people had to ruin the moment for them by filming it. Jeff would be happy; Harry wasn’t.

He had developed a special talent over the years as a celebrity and could always sense when someone was taking pictures of him. It made him uneasy and distracted, so he had to pull back. He supposed his twisted expression might have given Ezi the wrong idea. She thought it was her that made him uncomfortable. And for some stupid reason, Harry let her think that.

They left the party early because Ezi didn’t seem to enjoy it anymore. On the drive home, Harry tried to find a way to apologise for ruining the moment, but he didn’t know how to not make it awkward. She didn’t say a single word to him in the car, and he knew she wasn’t going to unless he started the conversation. But then he didn’t. And so she went to bed angry at him.

Harry felt really bad about it. He knew it wouldn’t be this way if he had communicated like a normal human being. But it wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to admit to her that he’d enjoyed kissing her, and he would’ve made out with her in front of all those people had it not been for who he was. He had wanted that moment to be real, but then he remembered it wasn’t, and he felt like he was taking advantage of her.

Maybe she felt that way, too. He wasn’t sure. Or she was just tired and didn’t really care about the kiss, and he was the one making a fuss out of it because he assumed he meant more to her than he really did. Again, Dawson could’ve lied. Ezi might not even have feelings for him. She might think he was a bad kisser even.

As Harry fell asleep that night, he dreamed about her again. They were alone in Niall’s mansion. The music was playing as they slow-danced but nobody was watching. She started kissing him, and he kissed her back. His hands reached around her to unzip her little pink dress and let it pool around her ankles. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock was rock hard when they went in for more kissing. Her tongue slid between his lips, her hands reaching for his belt as he fumbled on the buttons of his own shirt. Then he woke up with a tent on his crotch. It was three in the fucking morning, and he was having the worst erection in his life.

Harry slipped his hand under the duvet and started playing with it to relieve some tension, but just as he was about to cum, he heard a loud crash downstairs. Instant boner killer.

“Ezi!” he shouted in frustration, slipped on his boxers and marched out of the room.

“I’m sorry!” Ezi’s voice echoed from downstairs. Harry groaned and headed down to the kitchen where he found her collecting broken pieces of a vase she’d knocked over.

“Just leave it,” he said, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up and away from the glass. “You’d hurt yourself, idiot.”

“I’m sorry. It was dark. I couldn’t see.”

“Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”

She shrugged, which made him laugh, because that was very Ezi of her. “You’re a dumbass,” he said.

“I’m not,” she pouted.

“You are. This only happens to dumbasses.”

“Gosh, you’re an asshole,” she mumbled, arms crossed. She was standing with her back to the counter, and he was blocking her way from the door. Of course she could always sidestep him to leave, but instead, she stayed there, just awkwardly chewing on her nail. She was wearing nothing but a loose white shirt of his. And this time, Harry wasn’t complaining.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said.

“I’m not even looking at you,” he said, yet staring right at her face.

“You are.”

“How would you know? Unless you’re also looking at me.”

“This is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“No, you—” Ezi’s voice cut off; her gaze dropped to his mouth as if she hadn’t realised how close they were until now. Harry knew that look so well, and usually it would be a sign for him to make a move. But this was Ezi.

“I should go back to bed,” she said, eyes meeting his again.

He nodded, but didn’t get out of the way.

Again, he didn’t know who leaned in first. The moment their mouths collided, all his thoughts evaporated; his walls crumbled, and he was powerless, unable to pull back. There was a kind of power in the way she kissed that he could not resist. He was all hers.

He tightened his arms around her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her onto the counter. He could feel his erection growing again in his pants. It didn’t take too long for it to turn fully hard, and she obviously felt it, so she pulled back from their kiss, panting. “It’s…”

“Ignore it,” he breathed, kissing her again, making his way down to her neck and chest. She was squirming now, and he wondered if she was also feeling things down there. “Are you wet?” he asked breathlessly against her lips.

She blinked, confused. “No, I’m dry.”

“No, Ezi,” Harry chuckled, face buried in her neck. “I mean, are you wet between your legs?”

“Oh.” She licked her perfect lips and nodded once. “Yeah. Like most of the time.”

Harry’s whole body went stiff. “What?”

“Like...whenever I think of us kissing,” Ezi admitted innocently.

Harry didn’t know which was hotter. The fact that they were both half-naked and horny right now, or the fact that she got turned on just from thinking of kissing him.

“What do you usually do when it happens?” he asked, adding soft kisses to her lips.

Her fists tightened on his back, her eyelids fluttering. “I r-rub my thighs together.”

Harry smiled as his cock twitched to the thought of it. “Does that feel good?”

Ezi nodded.

“Want me to help you feel even better?”

“You can?”

Harry nodded. He knew it wasn’t right to have sex with her when she didn’t even know what it was, so he wouldn’t rush it. He was just going to help her.

He kissed her once more and got down on his knees between her legs. She looked so hot all spread out in front of him with just his shirt and panties on. She wasn’t lying when she said she was wet. Her panties were completely soaked as he slid them off. She shivered a little yet didn’t protest. She wanted him to help.

He started by kissing her inner thigh. She had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He could just cum to the thought of licking her, and he swore he almost did when he took the first try. Her hips jolted, and he glanced up to meet her confused stare.

“If you want me to stop, just say it, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied, biting her nail.

He held her eye contact as he started licking. She tasted as sweet as he’d imagined in those dreams. He still couldn’t believe this was real, but god, the sounds she made sent him to heaven. He dipped his tongue into her and her hands flew to the back of his neck. For a moment she forgot everything and started moving her hips against his face. Fuck. It turned him on so much. He slipped his hand into his boxers and gave himself a few strokes. Then she started to moan, and he worked his hand faster while flicking his tongue into her. He fucked himself until she cummed and made a mess inside his pants, cum dripping onto the floor.

“Is that milk?” Her question got him cackling as he got back to his feet, holding onto the counter on either side of her so he wouldn’t fall. He had never cummed so much; it had literally drained him out.

“No, it’s not milk,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked so fucked out as well, which made him feel so proud. “Did you like that?”

“Yes,” she said shyly. “Did you?”

“Very much,” he said. “I would kiss you again if I hadn’t just eaten you out. Not sure how you’d like it.”

A look of horror crossed Ezi’s face as she quickly checked between her legs.

“No!” Harry laughed. “I didn’t literally eat you. It’s what it’s called.”

“Oh.”

“Dummy.”

“Is it like...sex stuff?”

“Not really sex, just part of the sex. So yeah, sex stuff,” Harry explained, not sure how to feel about this situation. Now that post-nut clarity had hit, he started to feel a bit guilty, but it didn’t he wasn’t proud of himself for making her cum so hard her legs were shaking.

“I still want to kiss, though,” Ezi said shyly. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry smiled. He liked seeing her blush because of him.

With a nod, she pulled him back in.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x mc #harry styles fic rec #harry styles dirty fanfiction

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footballfanfictions · 3 years ago

Text

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Five

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: Smut (18+)

—————————————————————————————

Mason

I had watched Katie and Ben leave hand in hand, absolutely seething. I had this awful sickening feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t quite understand. All i knew for sure was that I didn’t trust Ben. I had known him before he arrived at Chelsea and we had played together for England./ He had always seem like quite a sound lad, but there was just something about him that I didn’t like.

Christina had whined at me all night about dancing with her and when I refused had gone off in a huff to dance with a group of other guys on the dancefloor, grinding against them provocatively, as if that would ever make me mad. I had been going off her for a long time now, only clinging on to the relationship because I was scared of being on my own.

My mind kept going back to Katie kissing Ben on the dancefloor. How he had held onto her, how she had run her hand through his hair. If I was honest with myself I knew why I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it because I wished that it were my hands on her.

I had quietly admired her from afar for the entire previous season since returning from my loan at Derby County. In that entire time she had barely even said a word to me and that only made the longing feeling worse if anything. I’ve always enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

I felt bad for silently celebrating the end of her long term relationship, which I found out about from one of the physios one day when casually asking why Katie looked so sad that day. She had always been quite a serious person fully invested in her job, but that day changed her and she had gone cold.

Now I was seeing her fire returning, and she was burning for Ben.

I thought all of these thoughts while Christina was on top of me, half heartedly grinding against me. She hated going on top, hated having sex with me in general really these days. I usually did all the work, taking all of my frustration out on her. But tonight she was drunk enough to do all the work, while I lay back against the pillows.

The only reason I was able to get hard and stay hard was because I was thinking about Katie.

Christina started to move her hips a little faster against me then and I momentarily snapped out of my day dream, grabbing her hips firmly. Then I put the situation out of my head and concentrated on the fantasy of Katie on top of me.

A few moments later I felt her tighten around me and started to thrust up to meet her hips,cursing quietly under my breath “f-fuck.. Katie…”

It took a second for me to realise what I had said, my eyes snapping open to meet Christina’s but she was already rolling off of me and getting out of the bed to shower like she did after every time we had sex, wanting to wash the memory of me off of her. She was entirely oblivious.

_______________________________________________________________

Katie

I woke up momentarily confused, the curtains still wide open from the day before allowed the sun to come streaming in and blinded me for a second.

My mouth felt uncomfortably dry and my head was slightly pounding.

Rolling over I knocked into the side of Ben’s sleeping body and the memory of the previous night came back to me.

I had slept with Ben, and we had barely even had a date. I scolded myself silently, wondering how I could be stupid enough to let a footballer sleep with me on the first night. I was probably one in a hundred girls that he had slept with early on and then never talked to again.

He stirred and slung his arm across my stomach, pulling me in close against his chest, he nuzzled his head against my neck. I tried really hard not to smile at the fact that he was laying here cuddling me rather than getting up and running away straight away.

“Stop fretting.” he mumbled quietly. His voice all low, sleepy and raspy sounding even more attractive than usual. “I’m not going anywhere…” he continued, now in a whisper, his lips moving to kiss my collarbone while his hand swept my hair out of the way.

I breathed out a deep sigh of relief and relaxed into his arms.

“Didn’t scare you away then?” I joked.

Disregarding the sex, this was the most intimate I had been with anyone since Rory. I tried not to show Ben how insecure I felt about being completely bare before him.

“No way” he smirked.

We were both silent for a minute, Ben was still holding me against him, his fingertips now trailing down my back. I was struggling to figure out what I should say to him now. Should I offer him some breakfast? Ask him to hang out with me today? It had been so long since I had brought someone home with me outside of a relationship that I had no idea what the post sex etiquette was.

“What time is it?” Ben asked, lifting his head to look at the display on my alarm clock sat on the bedside table.

I looked at it too, having to squint to read the display clearly due to the sunshine. “8.30”

He jolted slightly against me and then sat up. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry but there is somewhere that I need to be.” he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek but then offered no further explanation as he silently dressed.

I waited until his back was turned while he was putting his shoes and socks back on before I slipped out of the bed covers myself and threw a pair of shorts and a t shirt on to look half way to presentable to see him out.

Once we were both dressed he grabbed my hand and pulled me against him to give me a brief kiss.

“See you later then.” I said casually.

He smiled at me and squeezed my hand, letting me lead him to the front door.

“I’ll text you.” he said.

_________________________________________________________

Monday morning had rolled around and admittedly I had been disappointed not to hear from Ben, but presumed that he was probably just busy.

As usual I was busy following the weekend. Chelsea had played yesterday lunchtime and I had a folder full of matchday pictures to go through and edit to occupy my time.

By lunchtime I had barely made a dent in my work and decided that I would just eat lunch sat at my desk to try to get through a little bit more of it but Bri had other ideas, coming bounding into my office like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh with a massive grin on her face. She was so happy that it lifted my sour mood almost instantly.

“Katie! So sorry that I didn’t text you back on Friday. I knew you were out with the boys and didn’t want to disturb you, and well… me and Billy went on our date and ended up spending the whole weekend together!” she was still bouncing as she sat down on the spare office chair which nearly rolled away from the desk from the force.

“Woah slow down, all weekend?” I asked her, puzzled as I looked down at the team sheet on the desk in front of me. “Wasn’t he in the squad yesterday?”

“Oh yeah but he got me a ticket and I sat just behind the bench so that we could talk to each other. He didn’t get to play unfortunately but it was still nice to be there to support him.” she said, beaming before continuing “then he took me to the megastore and bought me a shirt with his name on the back for me to wear next time. Isn’t that just the cutest thing?”

“The cutest…” I said quietly, trying my absolute best not to sound bitter or jealous seeing as Ben had run off suddenly on Saturday morning and couldn’t even be bothered to send me a text, compared to Billy who couldn’t get enough of being with Bri. I tried to tell myself that Billy had been into her for years so was of course going to be putting in a lot of effort, where Ben and I had only just met. It would have been nice to have felt a bit more wanted though.

“Sooo… Billy told me that Ben was asking you out. Did you go?” she looked at me intently while asking the question and I knew then that she could tell that there was something wrong.

I told her everything, including what I knew about Ben’s ex and Jorginho and going to the nightclub with the boys, kissing Ben, Mason and his horrible girlfriend being weird, and then about sleeping with Ben and what had happened after.

“Oh…” she mumbled. “I thought that he was really into you. Billy said he’#s always talking about you and looking over at your office window when they’re training.”

I shook my head, trying not to feel pessimistic about the situation. It had only been two days and he could have genuinely been busy.

“I’m sure he will text or call, or even pop in here to see you.” she leant over the desk then and gave me a hug in the best way that she could with a desk in the way.

“Bri, you really like Billy now right? Not just to make you-know-who jealous?” I asked.

She laughed “Why would I want to make Voldermort jealous?”

I rolled my eyes at her and grinned “You know exactly who I meant.”

“He’s already forgotten.” she shrugged.

“Listen, I don’t think I can face going down for lunch could you bring me back a sandwich or something? I don’t really fancy being stared at. He has probably already told all of them how easy I was.”

Reluctantly she agrede to go without me but not without scolding me for thinking the way that I had, telling me that Ben wasn’t like that.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mason

“So, what happened with you and that girl?” Kai was asking Ben the question as we sat in a circle doing some stretches. We were right outside of Katie’s window and I had been trying really hard not to think about her with some success before Kai had brought her up.

Ben stayed quiet for a minute as the group pushed him for an answer. Tammy finally bluntly asking if Ben had slept with her.

I looked for any sign of embarrassment on his face but there was none as he smirked “It was even her idea, she took me back to her place and then she was all over me.”

I grit my teeth together, biting me tongue so as not to say anything I might later regret or that might make playing with him awkward. I didn’t like the way that he was talking about her. He shouldn’t be showing off for the rest of the lads like that, not if he really liked her. He could have just said that he had a good night and wouldn’t kiss and tell.

My only solace was that he wasn’t going into intimate detail. He wouldn’t ruin my fantasies about her that way.

“How did you leave things? You leaving the door open to hit that again?” Tammy was asking.

I looked up at her window then and could see her there, stood at the coffee machine. She looked tired and stressed, more so than she usually did on a Monday morning and my dislike of Ben grew that little bit stronger.

“The door is ajar. Just letting her cool off a bit before I go back to her. Don’t need her getting all clingy on me.”

I was only half listening to Ben, finding that not looking at him made it easier to pretend that I was fine and egging him on like all of the others.

Our coach Frank blew his whistle then and told us all to head inside for lunch and I hung back behind the rest of them as they all walked towards the doors to inside the complex.

I was last in line for food as a consequence of hanging back behind the others and realised that Katie’s friend was just ahead of me with Billy but no Katie.

“I need to take this back to Kate but I don’t want to miss out on time with you.” I heard her cooing to Billy who had the biggest grin on his face. It was nice to see him finally happy but a bit too sweet for me.

Interrupting them I offered to take the sandwich to Katie, saying that the table I was going to sit on was full anyway and I was planning on just grabbing one myself and heading for some physio.

Katie’s friend was slightly hesitant at first but her desire to be with Billy overruled that in the end and she handed the sandwich over to me.

I stood at her office door nervously for a minute before I even knocked.

She opened the door expecting her friend and was surprised to see me there.

“I uh- brought your sandwich…” I mumbled, passing it to her.

“Are you ok Mase? It’s not like you to be so quiet.”

I full on blushed at her calling me Mase and felt like a right idiot for doing so. It was a nickname that people called me affectionately and she had never been affectionate towards me.

“It’s just…” I started to speak but had no idea what excuse I was going to give. I couldn’t exactly tell her that I was jealous of Ben.

“Is it your girlfriend? She was um, nice?” she giggled, and I couldn’t think if I had ever heard her laugh before. It was infectious.

“If I’m honest I haven’t been invested in that relationship for a long time but I can’t bring myself to end it. I’ve always been in relationships. I’m not...I’m not sure I know how to be on my own you know?”

She gestured for me to sit down on one of the chairs and she perched on the end of her desk, taking a bite of her sandwich while she thought about what I said.

“I can understand that. I was in a long term relationship that ended last year and I thought we were going to be together forever so when it ended I had no idea how to be on my own again. I’m still not sure that I have it figured out now if I’m honest.” she shrugged. She was trying to seem casual about it but I saw straight through her. She was still hurting from that break up.

“You’re not on your own anymore though, you have Ben.” I said quietly. Although I didn’t really want to think about them together I wanted to see how she reacted to me asking about it. If her face lit up with happiness at just the mention of his name, I would know that any chance of me changing her mind about him and about me was absolutely dead.

She looked down at her feet and didn’t say anything.

“He’s not the best at communicating. Don’t give up on him yet.” Thinking back to what she had said to me not long ago about how privileged and big headed I had become, I decided in a split second that maybe I wouldn’t be good for her even if we could somehow date. Would I continue to get too big for my boots and end up pushing her away? By that time I would have burnt a lot of bridges and ruined a lot of professional and personal relationships and it didn’t feel worth the risk.

“You’ve changed your tune.” she said, obviously referring to me telling her that he wasn’t good for her.

I shrugged, standing up to leave. “He’s growing on me I guess.”

“Thanks for chatting Mase. Maybe you’re growing on me.” she smiled.

I had turned to the door, so she couldn’t tell how hard I was smiling at what she had said.

“See you later Katie.” I replied, trying to sound as casual as possible as my stomach did somersaults.

#ben chilwell #mason mount #football fanfiction #football imagines #football smut #football story

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anxiousstark · 4 years ago

Text

S4 01 | The Dark Moon

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE | KO-FI

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 3956

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, poison, death, seizures, dead bodies, swearing (always), etc.

A/N: Wow. This is the 4th Season already?! I noticed while writing this entire chapter this morning that we were starting season 4. This is crazy. Enjoy and I didn’t have time to proofread!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

I glanced around, sighing, not knowing what to expect and seeing a different scenario from the one that I was used to seeing every day. There was a lot of people in the street, wandering through street markets, trying to get the best deal.

"This doesn't seem so bad." My boyfriend rubbed his hands together.

"It's not the town, it's the plan." Lydia rolled her eyes as I chuckled. "Stiles. This could be the stupidest plan we've ever come up with. You're aware of that, right?"

"I'm aware it's not our best." His voice lowered.

"We are going to die." The three of us started walking.

"Are you saying that as a Banshee or you're just being pessimistic?"

"I'm saying it as a person who doesn't wanna die."

"Okay." Stiles's tiny gesture made my chest pound like crazy. He had grabbed my hand, scared I would get lost as there were many people. "Would you just mind restricting any talk of death to actual Banshee predictions?"

"This plan is stupid and we're going to die," Lydia said in a cheerful tone, attempting to make the hazel-eyed boy happy.

"Oh, thank you." He smirked.

It was night when we arrived at a building. The door was being watched by two men. They both smiled at us, especially eyeing Lydia and me, which made us feel a little bit uncomfortable.

"Estamos aquí para la fiesta." I murmured to them, letting them know that we were there for the party taking place inside the building.

One of them smirked, shaking their head as if to let us know that we weren't invited to go inside. I shifted my gaze to Stiles, who was searching for something inside one of the pockets of his trousers. As soon as he found what he wanted, he lifted it. A black card. And even though it seemed like just an item without much meaning, one of the men standing in front of us stopped smiling.

Stiles noticed that there was a camera just above them, lifting the card so whoever was behind it could see the object. Automatically, the door opened and the men had nothing more to do than let us go inside.

When the door closed behind us, we sighed, worried about what we could find. There was a small corridor, walls were of an intense red that was making my headache. And it seemed like the door in front of us and the walls embracing us shook.

As Stiles opened the door, we were hit with loud music, colourful lights and the smell of alcohol and sweat. Bodies ground against each other, following the compass of the music.

Stiles clutched my hand harder as his other hand rested on Lydia's arm. He didn't want us to get lost in the crowd. We ended up in front of the bar, where three drinks were placed in front of us even though we haven't ordered anything. I furrowed my eyebrows as Stiles sought money inside his pocket.

I felt a hand gripping my shoulder, and jerking around I was met with a man. "No. On the house." He offered us an insincere smile. "Most American teenagers don't cross the border to refuse a drink."

"We didn't come to drink." Lydia clarified, dropping what seemed like a bullet with a skull on it inside the drink.

Of course, we were taken out of the party, to the insides of the building where everything was dark and where now, a woman stood before us. "Severo hates this music. Me? I've always loved the music of youth." We were sitting in front of her, while there were men all around the room, keeping an eye on us. "This kind, especially. It has a savage energy."

"We're here for Derek Hale." I was the first one to speak aloud.

"Is that so?"

"We know you have him. We've heard you can be bought." Lydia was the one continuing while Stiles placed money on top of the table with a loud thump.

"It's 50,000 for Derek."

"Now, where does a teenage boy get money like this? Japanese mafia?" A woman behind us loaded her gun, making Lydia and I jump in our seats as a man did the same next to Stiles. "Not smart to come alone."

"What makes you think we came alone?" The boy next to me smirked, and I couldn't help but take the grin out of my face. Malia, Kira and Scott had come with us.

"You brought a wolf into my home?" She got up from her chair.

It was my turn to smirk. "No, of course not. How could we do that?" She seemed to relax, but only for a couple of seconds due to my following words. "We brought an Alpha."

"My friends..." She sighed as she turned around. "I don't think you're aware of your poor timing. Do you know what the dark moon is?"

"The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky," Lydia said in a robotic tone.

"But do you know its meaning?"

"Some people say it's a time of reflection. Or grief." I intervened.

She glanced at me. "Grief and loss, mija. I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale."

"'Cause, we don't like to lose."

One of the men next to Araya stopped us from continuing talking as he started speaking to someone on the other line of the walkie talkie. I couldn't help but have a tiny smile on my face when I heard the voice of my brother through it. "Stiles. Take 10 off the table."

As the button-nose boy did what my brother had asked for, I decided to speak up. "Maybe you should just take the deal." Lydia nodded her head, smiling at the woman in a sickeningly way.

"While I'm keen to follow the warning of a Banshee," She glanced at me. "And of course, the one of a Siren. I'm going to have to decline."

"Aaaa... Come on. Just give us Derek. You don't want him anyway. Haven't you noticed what a downer he is? No sense of humour, poor conversationalist." I tried to maintain a serious expression as Stiles's continued speaking. "Just come on, take the money."

Araya grabbed the walkie talkie once again. "Severo? Show them how the Calaveras negotiate." When Araya left the room, the three of us were manhandled by the men. And I wasn't a Banshee, but even I could feel that Scott, Kira and Malia were in great danger right now.

Thinking back, we ended up here because Scott had gone to Derek's lot, just to find that he wasn't there. He had found bullets, and sending a picture to Deaton, he had learnt that it was the mark of a family of hunters based out of Mexico. The Calaveras.

Lydia said that he wasn't sure he was dead, but she also wasn't sure if he was alive, which was perturbing.

"He is awake!" Kira informed us as Stiles and I got closer to my brother, who was lying down on the floor of a dirty and abandoned bathroom, where we have been taken. "Guys, he's awake."

"Scott, you okay?"

"Yeah." He tried to get up. "They don't have him. They don't have Derek."

"We know." I sighed, offering him a smile that he sent back, trying to let me know that he was alright. "But right now, they've got Lydia."

"Lydia? What do they want with Lydia?" He asked rapidly.

"We always have the same question and it is always answered the same way," I spoke as everyone glanced at me. "The power of a Banshee."

My brother rapidly got up from the floor, trying to open the door with his bare hands, which wasn't working.

"We already looked for a way out. I think a lot of people have." I furrowed my eyebrows as Kira talked, not sure of what she meant until I saw the marks on the walls. Marks of people who desperately tried to escape, scratching the walls with all of their strength.

Malia was leaning against a column. "I say when that door opens again, we take out whoever's standing in the way and run for it."

"What about Lydia?" Kira asked, and I sighed, knowing Malia's next words.

"What about her?"

"We're not leaving without her."

"Why not?"

Stiles shook his head, getting closer to her. "Because we don't leave without people. Remember, we talked about this? Rules of the wild kingdom don't apply to friends."

"Is that what you would do as a coyote, leave her for dead?"

"If she was weak and injured, yeah. If hunting had been bad that season, I would eat her. Then I'd leave."

"Mmm. Believe it or not, that's progress." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Stiles and I've been trying to explain everything to her."

"All right, guys, we're not dead yet." My brother interrupted. "And that means Araya wants something."

Kira glanced at the dark-haired boy standing by her side. "But if the Calaveras don't know where Derek is, that means they didn't take him from the loft. Right?"

"Maybe he left on his own." Stiles completed.

Scott glanced at the floor. "Maybe someone else got to him."

We couldn't continue with our theories as the door abruptly opened, showing three men that quickly walked to us. However, we were soon met with darkness.

When I opened my eyes, my head was aching and everything around me seemed to move in circles. My throat was dry as if I haven't drink anything in days. I gradually noticed that I was tied to a chair and that my brother was tied to another one, right next to me.

The door of the room where we were now opened, showing Araya with another man and Lydia. "Oh, God," Lydia murmured as she saw us.

"Let her go. Look... you've got me. Just let the others go." My brother begged as Araya smirked. Her gaze moved to me. My brother followed her gaze, and it seemed like he had noticed from the first time that they had taken me too. "Why did you bring her?"

Lydia was chained to another chair as Kira came inside the room, also chained while a man grabbed her. What was going on? "So, let me explain what's about to happen." The man grabbing Kira spoke. "This one, the fox, has an immunity to electricity. So she's going to turn the dial on the Alpha. If she doesn't, I turn the dial on the Banshee and the Siren."

"No. I'm not doing this." Kira tried to resist.

"I see. Are you sure? One of your friends has the power to heal. The other? Not so much." Severo smirked. "And the other one might end up dying." Who?

"What are you doing?" Scott glanced at the old woman. "Is this a game to you?"

"This is a test, lobito. Let's see if you pass. We're going to ask some questions. You answer them, nobody gets hurt." She walked around us, but I had to close my eyes and lean my head down as everything continued moving around me. "You don't answer, we turn on the dial."

When I looked up again, my brother was looking at the fox girl. "Do what they say. Okay. Whatever they want. I can take it."

"So... We don't know where Derek is. We want to find him as well. You know who took him."

"What?" My brother asked her. "How would I know that?"

"That doesn't sound like an answer to me."

"We don't know." Lydia intervened. "Why do you think we came here?"

"Kira, turn the dial." The woman ordered, but Kira shook her head. "Should we turn the dial on Lydia instead?"

My brother quickly spoke up. "No, no! Do it, Kira. Do it."

"Let's start at one." As soon as she said that, my brother grunted, his hands gripping the chair he was sitting on, trying not to scream in pain. "Tell me! Who actually has Derek? Who had a reason, a vendetta particular to the Hales?"

My brother continued panting. "I said I don't know."

"Oh, you don't know because you haven't figured it out yet. So think! Who could've taken him?" They turned the pain even stronger. "Who had the power? The power of a shapeshifter?"

"I-I don't know."

"Oh! Someone who could have turned without you knowing. Turned, but not by a bite!"

"I don't know!" He screamed.

"Y-you.." My voice was a mere whisper, but swallowing I was able to scream. "You are going to kill him!" There were tears in my eyes. "You are going to kill him! Stop!"

Araya laughed, shaking her head. "No, mi amor." She smirked. "You will die first." I furrowed my eyebrows, feeling the temperature in the room dropping. I was cold. "Something told me lobito right here was going to be hard to peel." Her gaze shifted to my brother. "Your beautiful sister has poison running through her blood." My brother quickly glanced at me. "The longer it stays in her system, the more difficult to take it out. She can end up having seizures." I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, feeling dizzier than before. "Say the name, Scott."

"Kate." What? Kate Argent?

"Okay," I heard Araya's voice. "Stop the machine." Severo did as he was told as another two men walked to Scott and Lydia, freeing them. My brother quickly walked to me, extending his hands to touch me. However, my body started shaking and I couldn't make it stop. "Severo bring the shot."

The door of the room opened again, this time two men were grabbing Stiles and Malia. Stiles's eyes widened as he saw me shaking while being tied to a chair. Before he could step forward, the man grabbing him stopped his movements.

"Don't dare any of you to touch her now." Araya's strong voice resonated through the room. Severo walked to me, stabbing the side of my neck with the syringe. I could feel the liquid running down my blood. Severo unleashed me, lying me down on the freezing ground as my body continued shaking.

"W-What did you do to her?? You old troll." I wanted to smirk at Stiles's use of vocabulary, but I was too busy being scared of the constant shaking of my body.

"She will be alright," Araya replied. "She has more water in her body than a human. The liquid we injected plus the water will do a quick job in removing the poison."

"N-nice." I tried to sound sarcastic.

"Fever might be a side effect of the poison, but you will be alright."

I watched as my brother talked to Araya while I was leaning against Roscoe with the others. Stiles was constantly asking me if I was alright. I felt a little weak, but my temperature was back to normal.

Scott finally walked to us. "So what now?" My boyfriend asked.

He shrugged. "She thinks she knows where we can find Derek."

"She gonna tell us where?" Malia asked while she leaned her head against my shoulder. My hand went up to play with her hair.

"Uh, actually, she's giving us a guide."

Stiles's face transformed into confusion, but it went away as soon as a big motorbike stopped in front of us. "You know her?" Stiles asked my brother.

As soon as the person took their helmet off, we saw a beautiful black woman whose neck seemed to be scarred. "Braeden."

"Who's Braeden?"

"She's a mercenary," Lydia added.

"Right now, I'm the only one who's gonna take you to la iglesia."

"The Church?" I questioned. "What's The Church?"

"It's not a place you'll find God," I smirked, liking her way of talking.

Getting inside the jeep, we followed her as she took us to la iglesia.

There was a comfortable silence inside Roscoe. The three girls were sitting behind as I sat on the front between my boyfriend and my brother. "Okay, I'll ask." Malia was the one interrupting the silence. "Who's Kate Argent?"

Kira put her hand up. "Uh, I'd like to know, too."

"Well, we were at her funeral. So, I'd like to know how she got out of a casket that was buried six feet underground." I chuckled, nodding my head that was resting on Stiles's shoulder as he drove.

"She was never in it." I glanced at my brother.

"She was Allison's aunt," Lydia spoke, and I could feel the pain in her voice. The pain of someone who recently lost her best friend. WAnd a total sociopath."

"You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to." Kira whispered while glancing at the back of my brother's head.

"Um, yes, he does." I was going to scold Malia as if she was a curious child that didn't know when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah, she's right. You guys should know. You need to know."

"All right." Stiles sighed. "Kate was the one who set the fire that killed most of Derek's family."

"Some of them survived, like Cora, and Peter." Scott added.

"A very angry Peter," Lydia appended.

"Yeah, he's the one who bit and turned me." My brother sighed.

"And the one who scratched me." I added.

"And the one who finally caught up to Kate and killed her." Lydia explained.

"And we saw her buried." Stiles and I replied at the same time. He took his eyes off the road for two seconds to place a kiss on my forehead and ask once again, if I was feeling alright.

"No." Scott shook his head. "We saw a casket, remember? She wasn't in it. The Calaveras heard that Kate had been killed by an Alpha's claws. They wanted to make sure she was really dead. Her body was healing. More and more, as she got closer to a full moon. She was coming back. So they switched out the bodies. If a hunter is bit, they have to take their own life before they change. The Calaveras, they treat the code like law. They make it their responsibility to enforce it."

"Good for her." The were coyote intervened. "I wouldn't do it either."

"Would you kill half a dozen people to get out? Because that's what she did."

Kira sighed, placing her hand on my brother's shoulder. "So Kate's a werewolf now?"

"I don't know. You know, there's a saying, sometimes the shape you take reflects the person you are." I nodded along with my brother's words, remembering Jackson Whittemore. What was of him now?

"What kind of shape is sociopathic bitch?" As soon as the Martin girl spoke, the car was hit by something, making Stiles stop driving as we all got startled. We all got out of the car as Braeden got off her bike to ask what had happened.

"I don't know. It felt like we hit something." Stiles and Scott were examining Roscoe.

"Scott, we need to get there by night. It's too dangerous otherwise."

My brother sighed. "Go." Stiles made a gesture with his hands, trying to let him know that it was okay for him to leave with Braeden.

"Not without you."

"Dude, someone needs to find Derek. We'll figure something out. We always do. Just go."

I walked to my brother, kissing his cheek and embracing him. "Be careful, okay?" He nodded his head, wishing the same for me and sharing a look with Stiles. A look pleading him to take care of me.

Before he walked to the bike, he was stopped by the fox girl. "Scott... I can't think of anything else to say except for be careful. And...and I know 'Be careful' sounds kind of lame and I'm totally sure the second you're gone I'm gonna think of something much better, but I..."

"Uh, 'Be careful' works for me." I smiled as they embraced each other.

I sighed. "They are so cute," I whispered while wandering close to Stiles as his hands rubbed Roscoe's side, making sure that there wasn't any scratch.

"We are cuter." He replied while biting his lower lip and inspecting his jeep. I laughed and nodded my head and watching my brother disappear with Braeden.

"Guys," Malia grunted. Therefore, I turned around to look at her. "I don't think we hit something. I think something hit us." She was holding up what seemed like giant teeth or claw. I couldn't differentiate them, to be honest.

I sighed, leaning against the jeep as I examined my boyfriend inspecting the hood of his car. A screwdriver in his mouth. "Stiles, baby. Don't hate me. I know you love Roscoe but maybe we should just walk." He glanced at me with wide eyes. "It's getting colder and darker." I made a gesture to the girls as they rubbed their arms.

"Hey, I will never abandon this jeep. You understand me? Ever. Ever. Ever."

Malia glanced around. "Work faster, Stiles." She paused as her eyes continued examining the whereabouts. "There's something out here with us." I gulped.

However, night had fallen upon us and Roscoe wasn't working. Malia continued in front of us, glancing around, prepared to attack whatever was observing us. Kira had grabbed her sword while Lydia and I tried to help my stressed boyfriend. "Lydia, could you please hold the light still for a second? It's really hard to see anything if you keep shaking it like that."

Lydia scoffed. "I'm shaking it like this because we're in the middle of nowhere with your broken down jeep and we're being attacked by yet another razor-clawed monster. And I'm terrified."

"Well, just be slightly less terrified." He answered back. "You hold this." He handed me a big metal piece.

"What's this?" I inspected it.

"I don't know. I'm hoping it's not important."

"Oh god." I sighed. Things got worse as the next thing that happened was Malia running towards somewhere or something. "Malia!" I yelled. Kira ran after her while Lydia told Stiles to continue fixing the jeep.

"You... you please don't do that ever again!" Stiles scolded Malia as he drove. The jeep was finally fixed or so we were hoping.

"Do what?" She innocently asked.

"I... I thought you just took off. I thought you were running."

"I was running."

"No, I mean, like, I thought you were leaving."

Malia pouted, looking between Stiles and me. "I wouldn't leave without you guys." We glanced at her. "I would never leave without you two. Them I would leave."

"Yeah. Uh, it's progress." Stiles sighed. "I feel like the dad of a teenager girl." I nodded my head. Stiles and I had taken the paper of teaching Malia what she shouldn't do. The actions she must separate between a human and a were coyote.

"Don't do it again, okay?" I begged. "You scared us." She apologized. "And that doesn't look good."

"It's okay."

"Are you sure?" Kira looked worried as the rest of us. "It looks deep."

"I can feel it healing." I sighed in relief.

"You didn't see anything?" The Martin girl asked.

"Barely. It had a strong scent, though."

"Like what?" I asked while offering her water from my bottle.

She smiled at me as if she was a little puppy, grabbing the plastic bottle. "Like death."

When we finally arrived at the place where Scott and Braeden where we noticed that they were grabbing a young boy. Malia asked if that was Derek, to which Stiles replied 'Sort of'. That young boy was Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was a teenager once again.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday - @10minutesofscreentime - @momentitodebruh - @drikawinchester - @perrytheplatypus11 - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @linkpk88 - @royalreadery - @sweetest-serpent01 - @teenwaywardasgardian - @sadcupofcoffee - @maliyamay - @seninjakitey - @tairisceana - @thegirlwhoimagined - @mackingjj - @daphnen21 - @malfoystilinskii05 - @caitsymichelle13 -

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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broadstflyers · 4 years ago

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A/N: I am so excited to be starting my first ever series. This is inspired by Taylor Swift’s “Cardigan” because her music creates stories in my head that I must write down on (digital) paper. Please keep in mind this chapter is written in past tense, and the story probably won't be in present tense for at least another few chapters. Let me know what you think! If you want to be on the tag list for the next chapter, or drop any (constructive) feedback, you can take this survey here.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: None

Summary: They say at fourteen you’re too young to know you’re in love. But what if you aren’t?

Navigation: chapter two

Grade: 9 Age: 14 --------------------------------- As sure as you are that spring comes after winter, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and seconds turn into minutes, you know you are in love with Joel Farabee. Not the gushy “I want to hug you and kiss you and never let you go” love, the intense “I want to burst at the seams because I just want to scream it on the rooftops and tell you and it literally crushes my heart that I can’t” love.

Yeah, that love.

The problem?

You were only fourteen when you knew.

Yes, the grand old age of fourteen. The age you were supposed to be nervously texting multiple boys, wondering if you were going to be asked to the ninth grade dance and worrying about who your first kiss was going to be, or even the first person you were going to hold hands with.

It started on the first day of school, but the start of it all was less than romantic. You shuffled up the hallway with one of your best friends, your feet felt like lead.

“What’s wrong?” Luna whispered in your ear.

“I really hate math,” you huffed. It was the last period of the day, eighth period, and you had to spend it in what was probably going to be a room full of rambunctious athletes who would be itching to burst out of the room at the very sound of the bell. How did you know this? Because you had been stuck in a class like that ever since the beginning of middle school. It made for some laughs, yes, but for some reason a pessimistic attitude bitterly swarmed around you in dark circles. Also, math in general made you anxious, and it didn’t help that the last few years you had to fend for yourself because of your lack of friends in said class.

“Well, at least you’ll have me this year,” Luna attempted to reassure you and your looming anxiety.

“Yeah, but I wonder who’s going to be in our class this year,” you mumbled. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies, but you’d rather call them icky moths.

Luna opened her mouth to respond, but you reached the door frame before her. Before you could even make it through the entrance, you made eye contact with a group of rowdy boys sitting at a table directly in front of you. You stopped dead in your tracks. They paused in their shouting to turn and look at you and Luna, since you were only about seven or eight feet away.

You scanned their faces, and you recognized most of them. They were mostly hockey players that played for the local team that looked for a shot at the NTDP in just a few short years. It was Syracuse, hockey was a pretty big deal there. There was also the prospective varsity quarterback and his star wide-receiver, these labels given to them at just fourteen. Of course, more athletes. Suddenly, you locked eyes with this boy you strangely have never seen before. His hand was hovering in air over his friend’s head with what you could only assume is his friend’s pencil in a lame attempt to keep him from grabbing it.

He blinked a few times, and you might have blinked a few times, you honestly couldn’t remember.

You snapped out of your trance and looked over to the board that said, “Welcome class! Pick your seats for the first day!”

“Hey,” Luna nudged you and grabbed your arm, “let’s sit over there.”

She lead you to a table adjacent to the boys’ table, despite your unheard protests of being “too close” to them.

You took your seat huffing, and you pulled out your binder and got ready for class, something you wished the crazy boys would pick up on. Thankfully the bell rang, your teacher shut the door, and class began.

That’s the first time you saw him. Not very eventful, but hey, you two were awkward fourteen year olds just entering grade nine. Of course things were not going to be all fireworks and love at first sight.

---------------------------------

A few classes went by, and the only disturbance that occurred was when the class was taking one of those horrible diagnostic tests. See, you really hated disturbances, interruptions, anything relating to that matter.

So when this dude named Joel (you learned his name when he was yelled at for playing rap music in the middle of class) started fooling around with his friend while you were trying to figure out why letters were in math now, you weren’t happy, to say the least.

And when he locked eyes with you and made a silly face, yours did not move in a rather unamused manner. You simply blinked and looked back down at your test.

You missed his face slightly fall, but it was short lived when the teacher yelled his name from across the room and made everyone jump ten feet. He was quiet after that.

---------------------------------

It was a random Tuesday in late October.

You and Luna were chatting about your previous classes, until you both stopped in your tracks and you raised an eyebrow. Everyone in your class was standing up and congregating away from tables. You could hear the ominous music creeping over everyone’s heads.

“Oh no,” you whined to Luna.

She winced. “We’re being assigned seats, aren’t we?”

You nodded. You both stood in the sea of kids and awaited your fate.

“Alright, everyone,” your teacher said. “You guys have been extremely chatty lately.” She paused to side-eye Joel and his friends.

He opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly shut it when she frowned.

“So you leave me no choice, but I must assign seats,” she dramatically said as she unveiled the new seating chart on the board.

Everyone pushed and shoved to the front to see where their name lied in the cards of fate. You heard some soft celebrations and loud protests.

You nudged your way in and scanned up and down the board. Luna wasn’t at the same table, but she was sitting facing towards you at another table. Hopefully you and her would be able to make eye contact. You scanned until you see your name fall right next to someone who you would rather forget you treated so poorly. It was there in bright, bold red.

Joel Farabee.

“Aw man,” you and a voice said in unison. You looked up at your side to see that it’s him. Oh dear brother. Did you both just admit out loud that you don’t want to sit next to each other? You and him rolled your eyes at each other, huffing that you’ll be forced to be in each other’s presence.

And you knew he was thinking some sort of variation of what you were: how dare your teacher.

You trudged over to your seat and plopped down. He threw down his stuff and sat next to you. You could sense his extreme dislike for your rather serious demeanor. Hey, you could crack a smile.

Just not around him. And for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. It’s almost like if you did, you knew you would never stop...

You both avoided eye contact, you played with your pencil as he yelled to one of his friends across the classroom about some stupid video game.

And that’s just how it was for weeks. You’d both come in, sit down, he’d scream to his friends, you’d fight shooting him a really dirty look.

Until one day, you accidentally did. Now, later when you told Luna, you swore up and down you didn’t mean to, and it was just the fact that seventh period gym was terrible (but when was it not). Okay, so maybe you were fed up with him yelling about whatever rap song came out, or whatever Instagram model popped up on his feed (that made you shutter).

But what you did wasn’t really admittedly the nicest.

“Joel, do you always have to yell so freaking loudly?” you snapped.

He feigned a stunned expression, or maybe he really meant it, who knows what goes on in that boy’s seemingly empty head.

“Do you have to be such a downer…like all the time? Kinda ruins the vibe bro.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks Joel, because the number one thing I care about is ruining your ‘vibe’,” you put that word in air quotes, “and not getting any work done in this class, bro.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Look, you could benefit from loosening up a little, you know? You’re kind of just, not a fun person.”

A look of real hurt flashed across your face. One that he caught. “No,” you punctually state. Then you turn your seat so you completely have your back to him and you’re facing the board.

Meanwhile Luna and your table-mates watched the whole situation unfold. Okay, and maybe most of the class.

And when the bell rang and he called your name, you simply decided you didn’t hear it.

“He’s calling you,” Luna prodded.

You just shook your head as you continued down the hallway to the bus. On the bus, you had some thinking to do.

Did he really think of you as...boring? You usually didn’t let the immature words of boys get to you, but this, this really hurt.

---------------------------------

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Luna insisted that evening while lying on your bedroom floor that same Friday evening.

“Yes he did, and he’s kind of right,” you begrudgingly conceded. “I haven’t been the nicest to him,” you sigh into your hands, “and maybe I should be.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?” Luna curiously asked.

“I, I don’t know.”

---------------------------------

The following Monday, you winced and leaned into Luna as you approached the classroom. To say you were terrified is an understatement.

But you took a deep breath, held your head high, and locked your face into a neutral expression. You never let anyone get the best of you, and you weren’t going to let Joel out of all people be one of the first.

Luna offered a small sympathetic smile as she made her way to her seat.

Your heart beated out of your chest anticipating his arrival. Sure enough, you caught him out of the corner of your eye. He took his time and strutted around the room to talk to all the friends he had. He was obviously looking to avoid you, too.

Coward.

Eventually, he made his way to his seat. He cleared his throat, but you didn’t budge. Ever heard of being saved by the bell?

“I’m going to hand back everyone’s quizzes from last class,” your teacher announced. You audibly groaned. That quiz did not go well. Who puts diamonds and boxes and something called factoring in math?

Sure enough, she shoved a C- into your sweaty hands.

“Dang,” you whispered.

You glanced over at Joel’s paper. 100%.

Are you kidding me?

His prying eyes had the audacity to spot your C-, as if you didn’t pry on his paper seconds before.

“That’s rough,” he said, trying to make eye contact with you.

“I- um, yeah, it is,” you choked out with your eyes still glued on your paper.

His heart broke when he heard your wavering voice. He had to do something.

“Can I see it?” He quietly asked, when quiet usually isn’t typically his demeanor.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Uh, sure?”

He took the paper and started drawing stars around the C- mark, very messily, may you add.

You went to take the paper back, but he moved it away from your grasp.

“One second,” he pleaded. He stuck his tongue out in concentration.

You tried to see how badly he was defacing your quiz, but the position of his arm prohibited you from peering over to see.

“Done,” he proudly said as he slid the paper back over to you.

Instead of a plain old C-, there was now...a C- with stars around it.

“Joel, this is very lovely and all, but why the stars around the C-?”

He smiled with his sickeningly sweet toothless grin, and your heart absolutely backflipped into oblivion.

“That’s not a C-,” he goofily joked, “that’s the moon, y/n,” he said through a smile. “See it?”

You looked up from your paper and looked at him in the eye. Your hands shook from adrenaline, your heart was fluttering, goodness, you didn’t know how you could feel any lighter.

That smile was going to be the death of you.

“Yeah, Joel,” you cracked a smile, “I do see it. Thank you,” you sincerely said.

Crack a smile.

You cracked a smile.

His heart skipped a beat. He knew instantly he was going to do whatever it took to keep that smile on your face for as long as possible. He didn’t care what he would have to do.

He smiled once more, and he turned to his buddies to shield his face from you. He didn’t want you to see how red it was turning. He proceeded to explain to them how perfect his stars were and how no one could top them. Something along the lines of “Bro, you have to see this one, it’s so perfect bro…” He also told them how he made you feel better while slapping his chest, for some reason, as in yeah, I made the mopiest girl in school smile. He sounded like he was priding himself on it.

His smile, the way he talked about you, those freaking stars. You’d let him draw those all over your arm instead any day.

At that age, you may not have known why there were letters in algebra, but you knew that the way he made you feel wasn't the same as you did with your two other crushes back in middle school. This just felt...absolutely weird.

But absolutely right.

And that’s the story of how at just fourteen years old, you knew you were absolutely screwed.

#joel farabee #joel farabee imagine #joel farabee x reader

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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years ago

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Defy Your Authority: Chapter 3

Read on AO3. Part 2 here. Part 4 here.

Summary: You always hated tagging along on boys' night.

Words: 3300

Warnings: tw//kassanovella

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: HI LOOK AT ME I GOT THIS OUT IN TIME. I did indeed test positive for COVID so this was wrought through my fatigue--and may be why there is a delay for the next chapter. We'll see!

I hope y'all enjoyed this. I am doing my best to respond to all the feedback, but I'm like... so tired LMFAO. Thank you so much for your support and engagement. It literally means the world to me and is so encouraging.

I love you. ❤️

It didn’t matter how many times you told yourself to calm down. Your pulse bounded like a rabbit, every thump a reminder of your tightening chest. The walls of the Steadfast washed past in black-silver blurs, your mind wild with fear. Hux’s words replayed over and over, a cruel broadcast in your brain. Requests for response from the officers stationed there have gone unanswered.

Realistically, that could mean anything. Pessimistically, everyone was dead and you were homeless.

The thought of losing your crew weakened your knees. For four months, they’d been your solace and something akin to a family. Not like you’d had other real options on that little butthole of a planet--but you’d gotten lucky. You’d made a home out of Orinda; a home where you’d planned to return.

Lip pinched in thought, you joined Kylo in a new turbolift, crossing to the corner again as if he were a disease you wanted to avoid. You folded your arms over your chest, stared at your shoes. If you were homeless, it was anyone’s guess as to what you’d do or where you’d go next. It was clear that your supposed… whatever he was didn’t care for your presence.

Leather gloves scrunched in the silence. The lift arrived, and he stormed off, in expectation that you’d follow. You rolled your eyes, trailing behind him, allowing the need that had burgeoned between your thighs to deflate.

He’d said he would punish you. But you couldn’t think of a punishment worse than going four more months without his touch.

Kylo broke through another set of blast doors into the hangar, officers and Stormtroopers alike snapping to attention in his presence. If he noticed or cared, it didn’t show--he pushed through the quiet floor, furious stride carrying him toward one of the ugliest ships you’d ever seen.

Black durasteel panels formed a long, cylindrical frame, the bow outfitted with a row of rakish teeth and bordered by two guiding flaps. The engines looped like two smooth bricks at the stern of the vessel, the two ends connected by rows of external piping and guarded by a sprinkle of gunning stations. Its blocky build bore a resemblance to a prison transport--if that prison transport was then modified by an eager, unsophisticated halfwit.

He climbed the descended ramp in thundering strides, and you skulked in his wake, only to be greeted with one of the mercenaries you’d seen earlier. You paused, but Kylo passed the soldier, marching toward the stern and abandoning you in the main corridor. The man--at least, you were fairly certain he was a man--wore a mask embedded with breathing tubes, a huge, heavy club in his hands. The weight of his gaze anchored you to the floor. He said nothing.

“Uhm…” You tried to find an introduction, but none seemed appropriate. Grimacing, you offered him a half-hearted salute. “Sir.”

The man did not respond. Face burning, you scurried into the ship, hot on Kylo’s heels.

Few lights rimmed the interior of the vessel, your only guide the resonant thump of his boots along the durasteel slats. It was as dim as it was dank--the deeper you delved, the heavier the air. It was sticky with the stench of war, weighed with iron and brimmed with smoke. And underneath that, a scent you’d only describe as one owned by a pack of panting massiffs.

A chill crept over your scalp. This ship was empty of kindness, barren of mercy. You didn’t need the Force to know that nothing good had ever happened within these walls.

Your fear had you scampering to keep pace. Kylo led you through a flickering hall and turned a corner, swiped a switch. A set of blast doors opened to sharp steps, another pair of doors at the top. Those parted as you approached, light spilling from the Steadfast hangar through wide slats of red transparisteel. You’d arrived in the cockpit.

Six chairs lined the wrap-around dashboard. Two as pilot seats, two positioned at gunning and weapons systems, and two plugged toward the back, each in front of a monitoring station. One seemed to handle communications--or lack thereof, the radio receivers and wiring were all almost entirely torn out--and the other dedicated to internal surveillance. At the latter, a matrix of screens with live feed of the interior of the ship.

Even through the shadowed halls, you could distinguish a handful of prison cells. Each of them was torn apart, littered with metal scrap and half-shorn weaponry. The walls themselves were adorned with sloppy graffiti, one of them decorated by a mural of a massive, five-legged lizard beast. A huge red beam was bursting through its neck. Within the tiny walls were separate collections of cultured artifacts. You knew enough about war to know they were trophies.

Every room also possessed a rumpled, dirty bed. A flash of hall light near one cell, illuminating notches in the durasteel where the head of the bedframe met the wall. Like the frame had been slammed against it. Over and over and over.

You swallowed. On one of the feeds, a body slipped through the hall like a living shade. Pausing, you watched until it disappeared from view. The sound of footsteps whispered, then hummed, then roared. You spun, seeking out Kylo, finding him by the co-pilot’s chair, and darted into the pilot’s spot as if this was a totally normal occasion and you weren’t on a weird deathship surrounded by his weird death bodyguards.

Kylo turned to gaze at you, and the blast doors opened, stealing his attention. In the frame stood another would-be man, outfitted with a ribbed-weave robe and carting a huge plasma rifle. Filth smothered him from his boots halfway up his legs, and his head was obscured by a helmet, not unlike the one you’d known Kylo to wear. This one had two blinders on either side, like this man was a predator.

Like he was a hunter.

Whatever fear you felt for him, he certainly did not feel it for you. He glanced between you and Kylo, trying to ascertain the relationship that resulted in your presence.

“She’s in my seat.” His voice was grainy, like glass on stone, distorted underneath his mask.

You held up your hands in deference. “Hey, sorry. I had no idea this was your seat.” You went to stand, frowning at Kylo, who was studying your every movement. Really had to love how helpful he was being.

“Hurry up,” the man said.

Nodding, you wriggled around the chair with your hands still raised, as if this would offer any form of protection between you and this fully armed guard. He squared his feet and stalked toward the pilot’s seat. You side-stepped him, but he shoulder-checked you despite it, and you stumbled back, wincing.

“What the f--”

Kylo Ren’s saber screamed to life, slicing a divide between the hunter and the chair. He stalled, fists balled, neck rolling to stare at Kylo. You gulped, rubbing your arm, your eyes flipping between him and the crackling rod of plasma only a foot away from the man’s waist.

“Sir.”

“Careful,” Kylo said.

He snorted. “Of a Lieutenant--”

“Kuruk.”

Kuruk pivoted to you, and you met his stare somewhere behind the shield of metal. Whoever was underneath the helmet was rending you apart in his mind.

He shrugged his shoulder and looked back to Kylo.

“Excuse me. Sir.”

The saber disappeared, and Kuruk took his seat at the dashboard. You flushed. At least he’d done that much. You snuck to the back of the cockpit, thinking to sit at the surveillance station, but pausing there too. Every one of these seats could have an owner whose name you didn’t know. Glimpsing Kylo, you threw up your hands in confusion.

Kylo caught this, but did not acknowledge it. “Resistance activity was spotted on the scanners. Get Cardo and Trudgen on the turrets. Ushar gunning.”

“Yes, Master.”

Your eyes widened. Master?

Kuruk fussed with the dashboard, relaying the information, and you gazed at Kylo, examining his body in the same routine you’d practiced nightly with your hands between your legs. Fuck, he was big--the thick expanse of chest rose with a slow breath, and you watched it fall, then watched his neck tense as he turned, attuned to your observation. Heat rushed your spine when you linked eyes. His jaw stiffened.

“Get in your seat, Lieutenant.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Is this my seat? I didn’t know.” You sank into it, shooting him a wide, sparkling smile. “Thank you, Master.”

Kylo swallowed.

The blast doors opened again, the soldier you’d seen at the entrance bursting through and tromping to a gunner console--you assumed this was Ushar. He tossed his club to the side, flicking on the controls and calibrating the sights. The ship itself bellowed to life, rising from the floor, and you gripped the seat, unable to force your focus from Kylo--just as he was unable to force his from you.

The two of you were in competition. That much was clear.

You just couldn’t figure out what the loser would be impaled with--or if that would make them a winner, instead.

The Buzzard shot into the stars, coasting in a direct path toward Orinda. You broke the staring contest, glimpsing the little planet through the cockpit, pulse picking up again. Requests for response unanswered. Once you got on the ground, you’d go find your crew and make sure they were safe. That’s all you needed to know. Whether or not Kylo wanted you to come back was irrelevant.

You met his gaze again, his irises hiding a storm. Blood bit your cheeks.

Mostly.

“Nothing detected on the sensors,” said Ushar.

Kylo glanced at him then turned toward the transparisteel, searing you with a leer before he sat at the dash. You shivered. Whatever you’d done to make him feel this way, his brief glimmers of favor only made it worse. Maybe you did want to fuck him so you could get a chance to figure it out. Or maybe it was just frustrating to know him in ways no one else had while simultaneously knowing almost nothing at all.

The three men operated in silence as you approached Orinda. From space, it seemed normal. With no starcraft popping up, there was a chance it was a false alarm. That it had been a fly-by. You held your breath when you broke the atmosphere, flames whipping the transparisteel. The Buzzard trembled with gravity, diving toward the ground, greens and browns and blues splitting to trees and fields and sea.

Then a flash of light, smog blooming to life, tiny fires swallowing your narrowing field of vision. Air froze in your lungs, nails biting the hard back of the seat.

“Fuck.” You launched from the chair, scrambled toward the dashboard. “No, no no…”

Kylo spun to face you, but you ignored him, shoving between the two pilot seats to crane over the console and peer through the transparisteel.

He stood, looming over you. “Back to your seat.”

His words swum in the tsunami of your mind. The outpost was smothered with smoke. The closer you drew, the dimmer the horizon, until the Buzzard landed on the border of the eruption, the entire sky encompassed with billowing black fog. Every muscle in your chest felt like wire around your ribs, forcing the breath from your lungs. You shook your head, hands starting to tremble.

They were out there. They could be dead.

The blast doors opened, and you whirled to leave, but Kylo caught your shoulder and stilled you.

“What the--”

“Gather the rest,” Kylo said. He was speaking to Ushar. “Spread out and secure the perimeter.”

Ushar nodded, grabbed his club, and disappeared down the steps. Huffing, you wrenched yourself free from Kylo’s grip and stomped toward the exit only to be paralyzed by a very familiar nothing. You growled, unable to even make a fist.

“Dude!”

“You will remain on board the Buzzard until I return.”

The fact you couldn’t turn to look him in the eye made you even angrier. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you said. “That’s my crew. They’re my responsibility.”

“Stand down.”

You snorted. “Hell no.”

Two long, slow steps brought him behind you. His presence consumed you like a black hole, crushing you in darkness.

His chest met your back. “Every one of your little quips has gone unchallenged.” Another step, and his mouth fell to your ear. “Do not test me here.”

Warmth flooded your thighs. If he didn’t like being challenged in front of his soldiers, he shouldn’t have put you all in the same space. His own fault.

“I don’t care,” you said. “These are my crew members. You don’t know them. I do. Let me go.”

“No.”

“Why are you even doing this?” you said. “You’re the one who fucking brought me here!”

A pause. Silence settled between you, the only sounds the distant noise of destruction and your anxious, heaving breath. You heard him exhale.

“Kuruk,” he said. “Scout and support.”

Behind you, Kuruk stood, followed by the metal click of him grappling his rifle. You watched, stuck to your spot, as he charged through the cockpit and down the steps. The blast doors to the stairs shut behind him. Then the ones to the cockpit. And you two were alone.

Kylo snarled, snatched your throat--he was a swoop of rage, swiveling and slamming your back to the wall. You seethed, squirming under his grip, unable to hide the smirk curling on your lips as you tried to pry his wrist away. He subsumed you like a star subsumed space, bright hot and pure, and you were a simple nothingness, addicted to his heat.

“You think you have earned my submission,” he muttered. “You have not.”

You wheezed, gazing into his eyes, finding an electric spark of hunger and fury within them. Four months without this had been far, far too long. As long as he was treating you like a stranger, you didn’t want to give in. But that wouldn’t stop you from making this torture for him, too.

“Then what have I earned,” you purred, “Master?”

He sucked in air through his teeth, pinning your body flat--his chest rolled with excitement, his voice raked over lust. “The further you push me, the worse your earnings.”

You bit your lip, bucking your hips against his, feeling a growing bulge between his legs. “You’re ridiculous.” You’d thought he’d wanted you to go to Orinda. Maybe you’d been wrong. “What, is this because I left?”

A huff. “No.”

“Then I don’t get it.” You rolled your pelvis into him again, and he jerked forward, crushing you to the wall. “Why don’t you want me around? What did I do?”

Kylo shifted, panting into your neck, his mouth centimeters from your skin. “Not what you did,” he said, clutching your throat tighter. “What you saw. It will not happen again.”

Some bit of that stung. You saw inside of his mind. “You act like I made you admit it!” It was difficult to speak under the pressure of his palm. “You could’ve just let me go.”

“Hm.” His hand squeezed, and he dragged his hardening bulge along your thigh. “Perhaps I should have.”

So that’s what this was about. Whatever had happened, he’d decided that what he’d shared with you was weakness. And being Supreme Leader meant he couldn’t be weak. Meant he couldn’t have room or time for you. All you were was a living regret.

Frowning, you glared at him, driving your thumbs into the meat of his wrist and throwing his hand from your neck.

“Yeah,” you said, shoving him back. “Perhaps you should’ve.” His eye twitched. A screeching blast broke the air, and you tensed. “I’m going to find my crew.”

You stalked out of the cockpit, blast doors parting for you as you hit the stairs and cut through the halls back to exit the Buzzard. It was one thing to abandon you. One thing to make you leave. One thing to act like he’d never held you, kissed you, or whispered your name.

But it was an entirely other thing to imply he wished it never would’ve happened. The thought pierced your heart, and you steeled your jaw, tried to pull the pain free. You didn’t have time to play Kylo Ren’s newest Game of Repressed Emotion. You had friends to find.

The ramp to the Buzzard was already down, and you hurried to the ground, smacked with the scent of blazing fuel. Embered ash battered your eyes, and you coughed, covering your face with your arm. Under the wailing wind of heat, you heard Kylo approaching the exit, so you trudged toward the outpost, seeking out any hint of life.

“Tonis!” Your voice was eaten by the flames. “Mirna! Lin!” Narrowing your gaze to protect it, you pushed toward the hangar, knowing that if they were anywhere, they’d be there.

Sweat crawled down your nape, scattering over your lower back as you drew nearer to the fire. The mercenaries were nowhere to be found, but you supposed that was okay, since they didn’t seem very fond of you regardless. The hangar was beyond the completely engulfed fueling station and therefore impossible to see, but as you curved around the fire, you could discern slivers of it. Edges of the building, and then whole sections.

And your stomach dropped.

Another couple of steps, only to discover the hangar scorched, collapsed in on itself like a shattered greenhouse. You stopped a scream and bolted, careening toward the wreckage to see if you could find anyone or anything among the debris. Thick durasteel girders stuck out of the heap like nails, the ridged ceiling crumpled in pieces and mirroring the fire’s light.

“Tonis!” Your back burned from the heat, but you didn’t care. You tried to find a way in, a way to pull something apart, a way to find someone. “Mirna!” You grabbed a huge wooden beam, hands slipping on the soot, but you fruitlessly tugged anyway. “Lin!”

A ragged shard of wood ripped your palm, and you shrieked, cradling it to your breast in shock. Cursing, you left the mass alone, following the foundation around the corner, hoping against hope they escaped out of the back and were huddled behind the hangar. You approached the corner, calling their names, louder and louder. They weren’t coming to meet you. Again, and louder, and you turned the corner, pleading with the Force that they’d be there.

Of course, they weren’t.

In front of you was a cluster of discarded starship parts, all outdated or malfunctioned or busted. It was a collection you’d gathered since you’d arrived--arranged and created when more parts were added. Each fragment was unique, and when building it with your crew, it sometimes resembled a sculpture. Under the clouds of smoke, it looked like a pile of junk.

Growling, you rushed it, kicking the base and sending it all tumbling to the ground. Your furious hands found purchase and hurled whatever they had grabbed to pieces. A scream shook your chest, and you jammed your foot against a solar array panel, cracking it in half. Underneath, you found an old, pretty fuelcell splinter. You grabbed it in your bloody hand and hissed, pulverizing it with your fist. Grunting, you threw the dust into the air, watching as the firewind ate it all.

You heard the rustle of grass behind you. Your shoulders sagged.

“There are no signatures of life remaining at this station.”

Sighing, you turned to Kylo. He was watching you, face blank.

“Yeah.” You wiped your palm on your pant leg, smearing it with blood. “I know.”

His eyes flicked to your hand for the shortest, sharpest moment. Then he met your eyes. “The silencer is still in need of repair.”

You frowned, averting your gaze. “I don’t want your pity.”

“You’d prefer to sleep outside in melted trash.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged a shoulder, crossed your arms. “Dumpster fire and all that.”

Kylo Ren held you in his stare, cape fluttering and hair rumpled in the breeze. Tears stung your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

“Come.”

He turned the corner. Clearing your throat of sadness, you followed him. You allowed him to guide you through the devastation, past the flames, and up the ramp until you were safe in the Buzzard cockpit. And then he left, likely to gather his men before departure.

And then you were alone.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren #defy your authority #fya2 #fanfiction problems #COVID CUTIE BRINGING THE CONTENT........

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gi-maeve-rose · 2 years ago

Text

Dark Matters

Chapter 4:

Shae left the food to simmer on the stovetop before joining the three men in the kitchen. Her dog and Nick seemed to be getting along perfectly, meanwhile Daryl was wandering the room, browsing her decor.

She joined Kandomere on the couch, sitting at the opposite end. Despite how great it was to see him, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of dread deep in her gut. To be fair, how they left off wasn’t the best, and she’d never planned on seeing him again. Crazy how life works, isn’t it?

“So, what happens if you find Nadia and Akila?” Shae dared to ask. She had a feeling there wouldn’t be much they could tell her, but with her work background with Kandomere, maybe he’d give just a bit.

He watched her silently, his frame unmoving but senses always on a swivel, but every one of those was focused on Shae, at the moment. Although it was easier to talk past the lump in his throat he’d felt since stepping into her place, he was still overtaken by her presence, as he always had been. When she placed herself at the opposite end of the couch, he suddenly felt the distance that had been between them for all this time- how had he gone so long without even speaking to her? He cleared his throat. “They’ll be charged and likely be imprisoned, but I can’t talk specifics if they receive harsher punishments,” he explained, meeting her eyes.

“What about the wand?”

Daryl’s body stiffened at the mention. He could say he trusted in Kandomere’s judgement enough to believe Shae wouldn’t be part of any Inferni business, but let’s be real. This man was more pessimistic than he’d ever been before, considering his newly found ability and last run in with Inferni. Daryl turned slightly, eyebrow raised as he looked between Shae and Kandomere. “What about it?”

”Wands are ancient weapons forged from the Dark Lord- only he can truly vanquish them. There has never been a method discovered that effectively destroys them, so we keep them in centers like the ones Nadia and Akila infiltrated,” Kandomere looked to Ward when he spoke. “For now, we can only keep them contained and away from the world as best as possible,” he exhaled, knowing full well how brittle of a solution that was, but it was realistically their only solution. Whatever evil may come knocking on the door, it was his job to keep that door locked.

Shae looked down at her hands, picking at her nails. As much as she hated being that person, she knew Kandomere wouldn’t come up with a plan for all possibilities. “What if it’s too late?” she asked, tone lowered.

That caught Nick’s attention, a pit of nerves forming in his gut. “What do you mean?”

”Girl, that fucking prick at the mercado was giving me a hard time again-“ The door swung open and in stepped a shorter woman with dark, straight hair to her chin and hazel eyes, paper bag full of food and booze in one arm and her sunglasses in the other, looking at each individual face.

“Oh.” She first took notice of the two officers in uniform. When the blue haired elf caught her eye though, the match was made in her head, realization dawning on her. “Oh. I’ve interrupted something,” she winced, looking at Shae apologetically.

His brows pulled together in mild annoyance at the human’s rude entrance. “Who is this?” Kandomere pointed to her, looking to Shae.

Shae dropped her head forward as she snorted a laugh. “This is Rita,” she introduced. “I told you about Rita before.” Shae stood, helping her friend with the groceries. “Rita, you remember Kandomere. And this is Officers Daryl award and Nick Jakoby. Remember the whole wand thing a couple years back?”

Daryl quickly stepped forward. “That was all just a rumor,” he added quickly.

Shae rolled her eyes. “Please, I was MTF for years, I know this works.”

”Oh, I definitely remember Kandomere.” Rita stuck her chin up a little, keeping her big eyes on his scowl until she’d passed. “Nice to meet you,” she nodded and smiled kindly at Ward as she passed, but upon moving closer to the tuskless Orc, she let her eyes linger on his kind face, taking in the way he timidly made himself known around the room. Her heart throbbed a little. “It’s nice to meet you,” she looked at his badge. “Officer Jakoby,” she grinned, following Shae away.

Nick’s eyes followed after Rita. “Uh… I, uh…” His words were lost to him, taken aback by her sweet demeanor.

Meanwhile Kandomere looked on in exasperation. “She knows?” he implored.

She sighed roughly. “Yes, she knows,” Shae confirmed. “She was the only one there for me when shit went down.” Not just the recent events of the past few years. in all fairness, that didn’t really involve Shae at all. No, Rita was there for Shae from the very start of her Bright revelation, ten, long years ago.

Ward looked between Shae, Rita, and Kandomere. “How much does she know?”

Shae crossed her arms over her chest, looking guilty. Even though she didn’t work for them anymore, it could still mean trouble. “She knows as much as I do,” she admitted, then looked to Kandomere. “All of it.”

Rita looked on calmly, silently unpacking the paper bag and placing the assorted snacks and drinks on the counter. It was really her fault this was an issue now; she’d made the decision to come over unannounced, but this was truly the last thing she expected to find sitting in her friend’s home when all she thought would come of this day was booze, gossip and too much food.

Kandomere looked at Rita, both of their steely glares meeting. Ah, yes- I remember this one, he recalled bitterly.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be done, but his plan of action to keep the wand safe had been laid out like a drunk. Rules didn’t feel so important to follow when he was desperate to resolve the danger, which meant not taking this liability in and questioning her until she broke. She’d held the delicate information all this time with no incident, so for now, he had no real reason not to trust her.

His eyes shot to Shae. I can trust her judgement, at least.

“Fine. She can stay.” He paused to point at Rita. “You speak a word of this to anyone and I will lock you away from daylight for the remainder of your life,” he threatened.

Rita held her hands up. “I already pink swore to Shae that I wouldn’t tell anyone,” she grinned sarcastically.

Daryl ran his hand over his face, doing his damnedest to keep his frustration down. “Alright, so what now?” he asked impatiently. “We just get a search party going for those two crazy ass elves?”

“And what about what Shae said?” Nick added. “What if we’re too late?”

Kandomere paused, looking at all their faces when the grim question was brought up. “If he comes back, I don’t know what we could do to stop him,” he sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He knew that news would not sit well with them just as it didn’t with him, but keeping them in the dark that any efforts they made could be pointless didn’t sit right with him, either.

“But we may have a chance to prevent it from happening if you help us, Shae.” He looked to her again, his silver eyes pleading. “You two are the only Brights I have,” he realized the same moment he said it.

Rita’s brows lifted high in surprise, glancing at Shae as she poured them drinks. Too late? she thought to herself, her anxiety stirring under her calm exterior.

Shae nodded gently. “In my experience since knowing I was a Bright, I can feel some kind of... force, I guess, when Magic is used.” She glanced over to Daryl. “That’s how I know the Wand being a rumor was bullshit.”

Nick perked up considerably. “So, you have some kind of sixth sense?” Despite the absolute trauma and horror experienced in just one night with Leilah, he just couldn’t bring himself to think that Magic was anything but cool.

A humble shrug. “Something like that,” Shae confirmed.

”That exact sense of yours can help us locate where they might be collecting, but I’m sure they’re anticipating that. We’d have to be clever about this, if you’re willing to help us.”

Rita grinned when noticing Nick pipe up, sipping her drink and leaned against the counter. “What’s in it for Shae, though?” she asked, looking head on at Kandomere.

”That’s none of your business,” he replied coldly. It baffled him to think he wouldn’t compensate her for the tremendous danger ahead, but how selfish would he sound if he admitted a larger part of him wanted her to help just so he didn’t feel so alone in this matter? MTF never looked good from the outside, he realized that, but having someone he was once close with know the struggles from the inside eased some of the qualms in his heart.

Shae held up her hands, shaking her head. “I don’t need anything,” she assured. “I’m doing just fine.”

Define fine. Shae had gone from living in an Elf Town penthouse, working as a well-known, well-respected Magic Task Force agent and partnered with the only elf to ever catch her fancy, to working as a bartender and den mother at a local strip club.

Sure, she was doing fine, but it wasn’t what she expected for herself.

”Don’t be so humble, Shae,” Rita whispered under her breath at her friend, checking to make sure no one had heard her.

He rolled his eyes. Humans really are naive. “She’s right, you have every right to name your price,” Kandomere stubbornly agreed, annoyed that once again he’d been interrupted before he could say the same thing. “But you’ll help us?” he asked again. Please, please, please, Shae.

She didn’t hesitate to nod. “Of course, I will.”

All of this felt wrong to Daryl. This girl just happened to know the two elves that stole the wand, and she had no affiliation with them in this? It was too convenient, too easy.

Kandomere concealed his sigh of relief but felt it wash over him. “Thank you, Shae. And I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to be barging in like this,” he apologized, glancing down to adjust the sleeve of his coat. There was no denying he felt peace just being in her presence, that already he felt like this impossible mission of theirs might actually be possible.

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal,” Shae insisted, waving a hand dismissively. She glanced over toward the stove, doing a double take as she remembered the food was still simmering. “Ready to eat?” she asked, turning off the stovetop flames.

Nick sauntered over to the kitchen. “It smells great,” he complimented. “Need help setting the table?”

Shae smiled brightly. “I would appreciate that.”

Kandomere watched Shae, observing as she smiled and spoke to the Orc… He should’ve been the one to stand and offer help. Fool, you’re just sitting here, he belittled himself, crossing his legs in annoyance, tugging the end to his coat again. God forsaken fool.

Rita looked over her shoulder when Nick approached, slyly watching him from the corner of her eye when she leaned on the counter opposite to stand beside Shae. For a big thing like him he was awfully agile.

“When did he come back?” she whispered to Shae, her mouth hidden behind her cup as she silently observed the men around them. “Did he even call?!” she hissed a little heatedly, looking at her with curious eyes.

Shae sighed softly, shaking her head as she loaded up the plates with food. “Him and the officers came this morning to question me,” she told her friend. “Remember those girls I told you about? The ones I went to college with?” She felt uneasy, but continued when Rita nodded. “Apparently, they went Inferni,” she said bitterly. “When they’d asked me for help with a recent project, I’m guessing it was to help steal back the Wand from MTF archives.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Are you serious!?” Rita hissed, pausing as she came to better understand the gravity of the situation she’d stumbled into, and looked at Shae in wonder. How did she so willingly agree to help them? Without any hesitation?

“Are you sure you wanna get involved in this?” she asked Shae, taking a half step closer.

Kandomere couldn’t hear over the clattering of the plates being filled or the Orc setting the table, but the way her friend would glance back put him on edge, in addition fueling the urge to get up and try to walk over as nonchalantly as possible and place himself at the table to better hear, but every move he made felt stiff, and too thought out.

Shae paused when serving up the last plate, an almost far off stare in her eyes. “I know how this looks, Rita. I know it’s suspicious. Hell, Officer Ward has been giving me dirty looks all night.” A soft smile graced her features. “But, if I’m being honest, I missed doing this kind of work. I was a damn good agent. Things just couldn’t work. But just because I’m a Bright doesn’t mean I agree with any of this ‘raising the Dark Lord’ crap that the Inferni got in their heads.” She glanced back toward Kandomere at the table. “I want that as much as I wanted to never see him again,” she inadvertently thought out loud.

The moment her eyes met his he didn’t want her to pull away. There’s so much I want to talk to you about, he wanted to tell her. But now, was not that day. With her helping though, maybe it could come soon.

Rita nodded, understanding the longing she spoke of now the same way she did when she’d recall it other times, but also deeply understood the complexity of having Kandomere involved, and the emotions that must’ve come with it. “As long as you’re sure, I trust your judgement. I just want you to be okay.” She bumped her elbow against Shae’s.

The soft bump brought Shae back to reality. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t think about Kandomere often, especially now that he was back in her life. There was so much to tell him. Not now, she thought to herself, opting to smile instead as she brought plates to the table.

He stood with a low grunt, fixing his coat before approaching the table to find a seat. He watched the others move around, picking a chair to pull out as she placed the plates down. “So, how have things been?” Kandomere asked her, desperate to hear if she’d been as plagued with loneliness as he, but also hopeful to hear that she was thriving.

Rita came to meet Shae at the counter before the last two plates were delivered, gently stopping her hand. “Let me take these ones, yeah?” she whispered with a coy smile, gesturing over towards the Orc cop with mischief in her big eyes.

“They’ve been,” Shae answered Kandomere, just barely catching her friend’s subliminal message. Christ alive, Rita was into the orc. She chuckled quietly to herself, watching her friend take the plates and go make a move on Nick. “Titty bar down the way is picking up traction, so the money’s good. It’s been amazing nannying the neighborhood kids and watching them grow up. Honestly, it makes me want one of my own.”

Kandomere’s brows jumped in surprise at the mention of her wanting children, but did it really surprise him, being the way she was with everyone? Of course she would be a good mother. “That’s good, I’m glad to hear you’re doing well.” He gave her a small grin. “You haven’t had any trouble living here?”

Shae scrunched her nose. “Well, not anymore, at least.” She kept it very vague, not wanting to set off any alarms with anyone. “Everyone has been lovely nowadays.”

He twisted his utensil in his food, catching that small little detail. “’Anymore’?” he repeated in question, looking at her. His fist rested at the tables surface, clenched. What kind of harassment had she endured? The mere thought she had endured any at all was enough to anger him.

“It’s nothing. Everything’s fine now.”

Even more like Shae... No one was allowed to worry about her. She always believed there were bigger fish to fry, putting whatever she was going through on the bottom of everyone’s list. Kandomere nodded, looking down at his plate to take a bite. “it’s very good,” he grinned at her around his mouthful.

She hummed with a soft smile. “I remember how you like it.”

Kandomere smiled, a little bashfully. Nothing really had changed about her, had it? The kindness was still warm on her, the peace she emitted calming the wildest of his nerves that had been ringing since this all started. He wished he could stay in this bubble, without any of the dangerous obligations he’d have to return to.

Bu the more the two spoke, the more Daryl realized what their history was or might’ve been. And the more he realized that, the more he was uncomfortable with the situation. All of this could end very poorly for everyone.

Daryl approached Kandomere in the living after they’d all eaten, using the opportunity of Shae busying herself with cleanup and Nick speaking with Rita outside to voice his concerns. “You sure this is a good idea, man?” he questioned, eyes on Shae, voice low so she couldn’t hear him. “None of this seems any kind of wrong to you?”

The agent looked to the officer, turning slowly so his back was to Shae and pretending to be observing the room around them. “None of this feels right, but we don’t have the time to do this by the rules. She’s strong, she’s trustworthy, and you two together are our best shot against the Inferni,” he replied quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure their conversation had not been detected.

“How do we know she’s not part of that shit?” Daryl challenged. “Just take her word for it? You haven’t seen this girl in years, you don’t know what could’ve changed.” He wasn’t wrong. That could be a possibility, but then again, it just didn’t make any sense.

“Why would an elf that was Inferni willingly live in an orc neighborhood such as this? For cover? Inferni don’t do that, Officer. They do their business in broad daylight, I’m sure you remember,” Kandomere noted, looking at him critically.

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah, well, maybe after getting their asses handed to them by an orc and a human, they started taking some precautions.”

“There’s no denying that,” Kandomre half grinned. “But I truly think we’ll only benefit from having her on our side. She’s well versed in my side of the line and is- was an excellent agent.” It was almost painful to have to correct himself like that. “She also has insight you might find helpful.”

“Hey, hey, you got a lot of nerve thinking I’m gonna be doing any Magic shit,” he said lowly, holding a warning finger up to Kandomere. “I’m doing my job as a police officer. She can keep that Magic shit to herself, alright? I’m good.”

The small pool illuminated the dark damp room, surrounded by Inferni men and women, a low, harmonic chant echoing through. The light pulsed as their Magic grew stronger, their power coming together for one sole purpose. A form of water lifted from the pool, moulding and meshing into a humanoid form. Chants became louder, Magic became stronger. The water became solid, a body of a man forming inside before the water dripped off. Red, dark eyes opened. He was here. He was risen.

It was hard to not hear the conversation. They seemed to forget that elves have heightened senses, but she wasn’t going to make a scene of it. It sucked that Daryl didn’t trust her, but she didn’t blame him. She did, however, find solace that, even after all these years, Kandomere still trusted her. Shae’s thoughts were intruded by a sharp sting of something electric coursing through her body. She gasped sharply, falling to her knees and dropping dishes, shattering.

Just as he was about to respond to Ward’s dismissal, the sudden crashing of plates snapped his head in Shae’s direction, finding her on her knees in the kitchen. Panic flooded him, and he was at her side quicker than the flap of a hummingbird’s wing. “Shae!? Are you alright!?” he asked, mindful of the shattered plates but kneeling down before her to hold her shoulders.

She wasn’t the type to scare easily. Unsettle, maybe, but she was never known to fear anything.

But the look in her eyes as they met Kandomere’s, the way her body trembled. Full of terror. She knew this feeling on a much smaller scale, but this? This was big.

It was him.

It took a moment for Daryl to realize. “Shit...” he hissed, speeding toward the door for Nick.

Kandomere needn’t ask to know this look in her eye, and the chills it sent down his body were enough to make him want to run and not look back, but this was his disaster to handle. “He’s back, isn’t he?” he whispered, as if uttering the words would summon him to that very spot.

Tears filled her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. Now was not the time to cry. She nodded, gripping his sleeves as she tried to stand shakily. “And he’s close.”

”Can you tell which direction he’s in?” he asked as he helped her stand, adrenaline rising in his veins and pulling his phone out, ready to make the call to Montehugh.

“I have no idea,” she said regrettably. “But I can feel his power.” Her arms wrapped around herself, finding whatever comfort she possibly could. “This is bad, Kandomere… We thought Leilah was a hard one when we were working on that case, but we’ve never encountered anything like this.”

He swallowed. Fuck, how had they succeeded so fast!? He’d been a fool to think they had time, and now realized he’d mishandled the time that was now up. “I need to make a call.” He withdrew his hand from Shae’s shoulder, lingering at her eyes before stepping away and dialing Montehugh.

Rita stormed in with Nick, their moment of content flipping on its head when Daryl summoned them. ”What’s going on? Are you okay?” she asked, taking Kandomere’s place at Shae’s side. She tried to read her, but that look on her face… she’d never seen that one before. “What happened?”

“They did it,” Nick answered before Shae could. “He’s back.”

Shae was lost in her own mind, everything else around her hardly comprehensible. She watched Kandomere walk away, eyes lingering. Why did it have to be like this? Everything that happened to date was just one big spiral that didn’t seem to have a bottom and nothing to grab onto. She’d already agreed to help, but now that it was all happening, she didn’t know what to do.

Kandomere stepped onto the balcony where Officer Jakoby and Callie once sat, a hand on his chest and struggling to even the panicked breaths he didn’t want the others to see. He pressed the phone to his ear and waited only briefly before Montehugh picked up, answering with a casual, “What’s up, boss?”

“I need all warehouses and abandoned structures within a 10 mile radius of my location swept for the Wand and any activity from Inferni,” he snapped, his eyes roaming the horizon of East LA.

He paused. “Y-you got it… what’s going on?” he asked hesitantly, but the tone of Kandomere’s voice only brought a great sense of dread.

He almost laughed. How do you deliver news that the entirety of the city- of the fucking world was under a catastrophic threat? How do you even comprehend that?! “We we’re too late, Ulysses,” he spoke forlornly, pulling his hand down his face. “They brought him back.”

Silence took the place of any words, because silence was all that occupied his mind. It wasn’t just that this was the worst case scenario, it was that all the hard work they’d done to prevent this had all been for nothing. It honestly left him kind of pissed off. “I’ll uh, I’ll get to those sweeps right now, Boss, he replied, ending the call.

Daryl huffed, staring daggers at Shae. “What a coincidence, right?” And he left it at that, leaving the apartment and going back to the car, ringing his wife on his cellphone.

Nick watched Daryl go, frustration building toward his partner’s attitude. “He doesn’t mean it, Shae,” he assured. “All of this Magic stuff has him on edge.”

Rita turned and scoffed in disgust at Ward’s sour words and sudden exit. “What an ass!” she yelled at his departure, looking back at Shae with brows arched in anger. “Don’t listen to that nonsense.”

She could only shake her head. Again, Shae didn’t blame Ward for his attitude toward her. Honestly it was expected, but she had bigger things to worry about. “I need a minute,” she croaked, breaking away from the two mindlessly walking off toward the bathroom down the hall.

Kandomere looked down at the phone after Montehugh ended the call, his hand dropping to his side and face lifting to take in a little of the sunshine warming his pale cheeks. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He needed moments of silence like this to retreat to when shit would eventually hit the fan. He turned to step inside, following Shae with his eyes when she exited the room.

Nick grumbled under his breath, rubbing a hand over his forehead before turning to Kandomere. “What now, boss?”

He stopped beside Jakoby. “For now, we wait to see what Montehugh’s sweep turns up. We don’t know where to start until we have something to go off of,” he explained, again looking in the direction Shae left, but then looking to the front door. “He left?” He asked Nick, his blue brows furrowing.

“Unless he’s walking home, no. Just stepped out.” He shook his head. “He’s not a fan of this. His cooperation with Shae is going to be rocky.”

”He has no choice but to cooperate.” Kandomere said through tight teeth, leaving Nick with a cold glare before following the direction Shae left in, and down the hall.

He quietly approached the only door that was closed in the hall, pausing before gently tapping his knuckles against the door. “Shae? Are you alright?” He called to her softly.

She was hunched over the sink, her head in her hands. You’d think her years of MTF training would’ve prepared her for this. Then again, it had been years longer that she was away from said job. “Yeah,” she called back, voice rough. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Ynshael… Shae jumped at the whispering voice, looking around the bathroom as if someone else was there. No one else was.

”Are you sure?” he asked, shifting to the other side of the door frame. “Listen... I know it’s been too long since we’ve spoke, but I’m still here for you if you need me. To talk, I mean.” Kandomere spoke sincerely, wanting nothing more to see her face when he told her, but the door remained shut. “Shae?”

She pressed her hands to her temples, taking deep breaths to calm herself. First the Inferni, now she’s hearing voices? Fuck this shit. Deep down, she regretted offering her help, but there was no going back.

Once she’d shaken the impending dread, Shae cleaned herself up a bit before heading toward the door. “I’m okay, I just-“ She gasped again as she opened the door, not expecting Kandomere to be so close. Her smaller body bumped into his, her hands grabbing his arms to regain stability. “Ay, Dios mío,” she breathed in a startled tone.

With a loud exhale, Rita reached for the bottle she’d brought with, pouring the cold drink to the brim of her glass. She felt like she should’ve called family to check up on them, but the lack of volcanos erupting and the ground not splitting beneath their feet gave her some reassurance that disaster hadn’t come so abruptly. “Want one?” She asked Nick, tilting her cup in his direction and her smile knocked down a few amps.

He shook his head, holding up his hands. “No, thank you. I don’t drink on the job.” Oh, sweet summer child.

She giggled. “Doesn’t seem to matter much at this point, but suit yourself, Officer,” she toasted at him with a grin, taking a few hearty sips of the drink. I’m not leaving this world sober if I can help it.

Nick chuckled softly at Rita’s banter, doing a double take toward the hall.

Kandomere hadn’t expected her to walk right into him, but that’s what he got for staring so intensely at the grain of the door while waiting for her. He grunted when she made impact, his hands flying up to hold under her elbows and look down at her. He blinked a few times; she was so close. He cleared his throat. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said low, soothingly.

A soft blush dusted her cheeks when she realized how close they were. Not even when working together did they ever find themselves in each other’s arms like this, no matter how often she’d thought about it. “It’s… It’s okay, I, uh…” Her words trailed off as she looked up at him, eyes meeting. Christ alive, she’d forgotten how beautiful this man was. His sleek blue hair, the sharp cut of his jawline and cheekbones, the piercing stare that could intimidate the worst of criminals, but so comforting to Shae. She lost herself in him.

Rita furrowed her brows at the commotion from the hall, throwing back the last of her drink and burping lowly, her eyes narrowing. Are they…? She extended her neck in her struggle to listen to their low conversation in the hall, barely landing the booze in her cup as she poured another.

Kandomere was lost in her gaze, his climbing heart rate quickening his breaths, soaking in this intimate moment with her. His bones ached from her absence... How had he gone so long without taking in her beauty? His hand raised to push back a lock of hair against her cheek, swallowing when his fingertip grazed her warm skin. He just… couldn’t pull away.

The chance was right there. All she had to do was stand on her toes and their lips would lock. It was right there. Instead, she cleared her throat, taking a step back. “I’ll, uh…” She pointed to her bed room. “I’m going to get dressed. Then we can go… do things, or… whatever we need to do.”

Kandomere nodded, taking a step back to allow her passage. “We uh, I have men sweeping the area, so right now we’ll just be waiting to see if they find anything, but we can do that elsewhere,” he told her, blinking clarity back to his vision. “I don’t want to impose.” He exited the hall to leave her to change, walking through the kitchen and living room to the front door with his eyes downcast. He wanted to stop this ridiculous flutter in his gut when he thought of her joining them; now was not the time for these long dormant sensations, or the excitement when thinking of working side by side with her again.

His own hearing was good enough to hear the full conversation. “Maybe Shae should come with us,” Nick proposed. “If they reached out to her once, they may try to do it again. And I don’t think they’ll take no for an answer this time.”

He easily picked up Nick’s voice. “I’m sure you heard him,” Kandomere told her. “And he’s right,” he added. “If they decide to make another proposal in person this time. It’s best you’re not here alone.”

Rita’s brows furrowed, looking at Nick when he spoke. “Huh?” she asked, the conversation going on in the hall only muted murmurs to her human ears.

Nick nodded, turning to Rita. “We’re gonna take Shae with us,” he explained. “A busier neighborhood, somewhere we can keep closer eyes on her with more security.”

She threw back the rest of her drink, an eye pinched shut and her throat burning, a few little coughs following. “I suppose that’s my cue to get going,” she sighed light-heartedly, moving her hair off her shoulder. “Good thing I didn’t drive,” she giggled, gathering her purse and sunglasses that were sat on the counter beside her.

Nick took a bold step forward. “Why don’t you let us take you?” he offered. “It’s getting dark. You shouldn’t be walking alone.”

Inwardly, Rita’d hoped he’d offer a ride, and secretly, she was pretty stoked she had a few extra minutes worth of that ride with the cute cop she for some reason couldn’t stop herself from getting a little flustered over when his golden eyes fell on her. “Sure!” she piped, slipping her purse onto her shoulder a little wobbly.

His ears twitched as he smiled with a nod, walking over and propping his elbow out for her to take.

“Oh, que caballero,” Rita purred, her hand sliding into the crook of his elbow, slyly squeezing the muscle of his bicep.

He had no clue what she said, but he likes how it sounded. He lead her out to the car waiting in the parking lot.

Kandomere’s frown was of mild disgust watching Callie openly flirt with the Orc, his silver eyes rolling and crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to wait, staring at the entrance to the hall. He was impatient, but for what? To get going, or just be by her side and work again?

Shae took a while in her bedroom, getting dressed to properly go outside and packing a bag or two. Her mind reeled at the moment she shared with Kandomere. It was exactly what she’d always wanted, but why did it fill her with anxiety? She tried to push past the thoughts as best she could, slipping the bags on her shoulders and heading out of the room. She dawned a pair of ripped jeans and the same shirt, now covered by a leather jacket.

He looked to the hall again when he heard her steps. He repressed how widely he really wanted to smile. She looked good. “Let me help with those,” Kandomere approached, offering a hand for one.

A soft smile as she slipped one bag off her shoulder. “If they could both go in your car, I’d appreciate that,” she requested. “I actually have my own ride I’d like to take, if that’s okay.”

He eyed her curiously as he reached for her other bag, interested in what means of transportation she had. “Sure. And what about um… Titan?” he asked, looking down at the Corso.

She looked back at Titan who wagged his tail happily, then back to Kandomere, scrunching her nose with an apologetic smile. “Back seat?”

He looked down at the kind eyed beast, nodding stiffly after sharing a few quiet moments with the dog. “I hope he doesn’t puke in cars,” he mumbled, stretching an arm out to let the dog smell his hand.

Shae smiled wide as she watched Titan take to Kandomere so quickly, bumping his nose under his hand for head pats. “Just make sure he has a window seat. He’s a good dog, very smart.” She grabbed her keys from the hook by the door. “I’ll meet you out front,” she called back as she took off for her vehicle.

He nodded, turning towards the door with Titan and the bags in tow. “Now your mother has set high standards for you and that’s what I expect, good boy,” he spoke to the dog, opening the front door. “Please, stay close to us on the road… whatever method you’re taking,” he told Shae before stepping into the hall. He looked up and down; they must be at the cars already.

Nick helped Rita into the back seat, scooting in next to her, as Daryl already took the front passenger. Daryl looked back at the two, then forward toward Kandomere as he brought down bags and the dog. “Where’s Cortez?” he asked.

Kandomere walked beside the trunk of his car and pressed the button, the hatch popping up. “She said she’d ride separately,” he told him, moving to the side to let the dog in the car. “Good thing too, there’s no space left,” he grunted.

”Titan! Ven, ven hermoso!” Rita called cheerily, patting her lap to get the dog to jump in. “You like dogs, right?” she asked Nick.

He smiled wide. “I love them!” He joined Rita in giving Titan all the attention he deserved.

Daryl grunted in response, looking back out the window. He did a double take when a sleek, red Kawasaki motorcycle pulled toward them. “You gotta be kidding me,” he grumbled.

Shae pulled up next to the car, lifting up the visor on her helmet so her face was visible to Kandomere. “I’ll have somewhere to park this, right? Wherever you’re taking me?”

He looked out, slack jawed and staring at the rocket between her legs. “Yeah, yeah there’s parking,” he nodded, his line of sight bouncing up and down between her and the bike. “I have to take your friend home first though,” he gestured to the back seats and the fools ogling the dog.

She nodded understandingly. “No worries, as long as she knows where I’ll be staying.”

He nodded, turning the engine over to the sleek car and pulling onto the street. He looked in his rear view mirror, pressing the button for Titan’s window to lower so he could stick his head out.

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

Art by: @margaritamamaaa

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DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bright or any of the characters except for my OCs!

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andysbubba · 4 years ago

Text

friends [ three ]

-> steve’s your best friend. you know damn well that won’t change. [ also you’re really stubborn in this au and steve has to deal with that ]

AKA two idiots in love but one doesn't want to admit it

link to chapter one | two | three | four |

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Steve was screwed. Completely, utterly screwed. Bucky fucked him up. Completely, utterly, fucked him up.

How the fuck did he even know? Steve’s been in love with her since they were kids. How? How. The. Fuck. Does. Bucky. Barnes. Know. That. Steve. Is. In. Love. With. Y/N.

For all Steve knows, he’s been very, very lowkey about his feelings. But really, Steve Rogers’ is oblivious at least 98% of the time. Most probably, he didn’t even know he was being obvious.

Pft, clown.

Then again, how the fuck does Bucky know? And Sam? And Natasha?

Fucks sake. Maybe he was a little obvious without him noticing.

He’s been crazy for her since they were both teenagers. He’d assume maybe when he was sixteen. He’d seen Y/N as his best friend his whole life, then.

Steve spent everyday with her, doing stupid things, going for detention, buying groceries, studying, eating. And suddenly things felt different.

He finds himself unknowingly staring at Y/N in the middle of her teaching him math. And then the hugs he shared with her felt much more intimate and personal. (Not that it wasn’t personal before, but... it just feels different) He starts missing her a little when he doesn’t see her for some time.

He told mum about it. His ma and Y/N’s. At the same time.

They laughed at him. Told him how they ‘saw it coming’ and how he ‘likes Y/N’.

He was confused, truth be told. Because really, the whole time, he sees Y/N as a friend and she turns into someone Steve can’t stop daydreaming about.

He never told her how he felt. Yes, Steve Rogers kept his feelings hidden for 12 years. Possibly more.

Y/N was single throughout highschool. No relationships, no flings. Actually, Steve doesn’t know about the flings part. Because why the fuck would she tell him if she lost her virginity? Bestfriends since childhood or not, crossing that line is not it.

Steve decided that since obviously, Y/N didn’t feel the same for him, he went ahead and got a girlfriend in senior year.

Good riddance, huh?

He got cheated on.

Pft, clown.

Well, he cried. Again, clown. Y/N was there. As if it wasn’t gonna make him fall in love deeper with her when she was there to make him feel him better.

Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t really mind the whole getting cheated on in highschool shit because it had one good outcome. One, fucking good outcome.

Not saying cheating is good but it was good for him. Wait- no that just sounds wrong.

Okay, refresh. Being cheated on gave Steve an opportunity to sleep with his best friend.

Fuck- no that sounds wrong too.

Again. He was sad from being cheated on, and he acted on his feelings for his best friend.

That sounds slightly better, but whatever.

So Steve kissed her. He had no idea what he was doing then. His ex was one for open mouthed and all tongue kind of kisses. His kiss with Y/N was so much more soft, and slow.

That night. In his childhood home with his parents out on a night shift, Steve slept with his best friend.

Steve honestly thought that there was a chance that she felt the same for him then. But she was gone when he woke up the next morning.

Y/N avoided him. For a day or two.

And then when he finally cornered her in her bedroom, she said, “You’re my best friend, Stevie."

That’s when he starts hating that word. God. That was all he was to her, huh? Just a goddamn friend.

Y/N started dating this random guy when she were 22. Steve was jealous. Because she loved said guy. Not Steve, but some guy she met at the baseball game.

Then she came into his house. And kissed him. While she was dating Peter Quill. Steve was stunned then he kissed her back. And then he thought again before he complete pulls away.

Because Steve Rogers has been cheated on before and he knows it’s not a good feeling. For the cheater and cheated. He doesn’t need Y/N to have that guilt on her consious.

Then she said she broke up with him. And she was all around Steve again.

That was the second fucking time he slept with his best friend.

Notice the pattern?

Someone breaks up. Ends up sleeping with someone. Yada, yada. The pattern continues.

Those post breakups were the only times he slept with Y/N. Peggy Carter, Sharon Carter. (Yes, he dated cousins. It wasn’t Steve’s fault that he accidentally bumped into the other at one’s barbeque party. Seriously, Sharon. A warning would be nice.)

He really thought he could move on. A goddamn joke. He was still stupidly in love with Y/N. Peggy and Sharon noticed. So maybe he wasn’t being all that lowkey.

“Be with her, Steve. As much as I love you, she’s the one that makes you happy.” Peggy told him that.

Sharon said something close. “I can’t be with someone who loves someone else, Steve.”

Steve just knows that there’s no chance that he’ll ever get over Y/N. But he was definitely hell bent on keeping that bit from his friends.

Yes, Y/N included in said ‘friends’.

Which still does not explain how Bucky, Nat and Sam found out.

“Rogers, my man.” Sam pats him on the back with a giant grin. “You goddamn clueless piece of shit.”

Y/N and Steve met Sam and Bucky in Uni. Natasha too. And it’s always been the five of them since then.

Bucky snorts besides Steve. As if Steve didn’t just express everything he’s been holding in for the past few years.

“What?” Steve only glanced between his two friends with confusion.

“Just thinking about how blind you and Y/N are,” Bucky grins, patting Steve’s shoulder as he picks up his beer.

“Not blind.” Steve huffs. “Just being realistic.” He chugs down his beer with a slight attitude. “How did you two and Nat even know about it?”

Sam chuckles, finally taking a seat beside Steve. “Man, you’d do anything to make her happy. Is that not obvious enough?”

“I’ve known-”

Bucky rolls his eyes and cuts Steve off. “Since you were two blablabla. That’s just an excuse, jerk.”

“Not like she feels the same.” Steve complains, raising his hand up and calling the bartender over.

Sam only raises his brows at the blonde. “Getting wasted?”

“Not that I have anything better to do,” Steve retorts.

“Anyone ever told you that you’re a little pessimistic?” Bucky questions, shaking his head at Steve.

“I’m just being-”

“Realistic.” Bucky and Sam chimes in sync before Steve could even continue.

Steve rolls his eyes at the both of them. “Fuckers.”

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#chris evans #chris evans x reader #cevans #cevans x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steven grant rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #soft steve rogers #steve rogers au #modern day steve rogers

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joeyjoeylee · 3 years ago

Note

Hey :) can't wait for the final chapter of "both sides of the law"... do you know when do you plan to release it?

( No pressure 😬 )

Hi Anon, this is really nice, thank you! I'm back on my usual bullshit re: angst over word count yada yada yada substantially complete but edit! needed! blah blah, etc. Best case scenario with the holiday weekend I'd say Monday but more realistic scenario (lol) later next week! (Completely pessimistic scenario - I'll tinker with it forever, finger hovering over but never actually pushing the post button.)

In penance for blowing yet another deadline and because I have missed tags for the last couple WIPs tag games - I'm gonna kill two birds with one stone AND also include a snippet (but under a thingie for mild spoilers/sheer ridiculous length).

“Who’d the judge appoint to represent Eddie?” he asked, concentrating on spearing a piece of fish with the end of his chopstick. These little fuckers were so slippery sometimes.

“One of the best litigators in Detroit, even if his practice isn’t primarily criminal,” Gretchen answered, after a pause.

He looked up and made an impatient keep going motion with his chopstick when she paused again. Gretchen actually had the nerve to wince at that as though he was flinging rice all over her pristine oak desk.

She didn’t say anything. Just kept regarding him thoughtfully, in a way he recognized was her trying to figure out the best way to proceed – to try to manage him.

Finally, she closed her eyes for a long moment in resignation, put-upon and martyred, as if this all was just going to be so so very difficult.

“Eugene Katz,” she said at last.

For a second, Rio couldn’t place the name or why Gretchen would say it with such a long-suffering sigh, like she was bracing herself for a reaction from him that was going to be nothing but unreasonable.

Then.

Eugene…Katz?

Katz?

Professor Fucking Katz?

He dropped his chopsticks with a clatter, earning him another wince, and sat back in his seat incredulous.

“You ain’t actually being serious right now, Gretch –” he began, scowling, but she cut him off immediately.

“I know, I know, you had him at school – me too, by the way – and you think he is quote ‘crazy’ unquote, but the fact remains that he’s been litigating almost as long as we’ve been alive. Yes, his practice is predominantly family law but you can’t run a small litigation firm for 30 years without doing your fair share of criminal and personal injury work too.”

He was still shaking his head no. Violently. No. No.

Gretchen narrowed her eyes at him. Then she steepled her fingers together and sat back in her own chair to do battle.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she mocked, pointedly, “I thought we had agreed these kinds of decisions were my department? No?”

Rio ground his teeth. She was right and he hated that.

He’d learned to defer to Gretchen’s expertise and counsel on issues like this. She was the one over at the courthouse every other day, the one who was vice-chair of the Criminal Law section of the Wayne County Bar Association, the one with all the connections with the criminal defense bar, not to mention the prosecutors, the bailiffs, the sheriff’s deputies.

Still, it annoyed the shit out of him to concede to her on this, especially since Gretchen knew exactly how he felt about that lunatic. So even though he already knew he was probably going to end up agreeing, he still made her work for it.

“Yeah?” he lounged back even further in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach, “well, convince me then, Counselor. Lay out your case.”

Gretchen sighed dramatically. Then started to tick off the reasons one by one on her manicured fingers.

“First, it’s not like this is going to difficult for him, the prosecution’s case is mostly circumstantial and it’s just a simple possession charge, a felony, yes, but the most baby felony of felonies,” she held up her index finger for Reason 1, “next, your unreasonable prejudices notwithstanding,” she dropped her index finger and held up her middle finger – Reason 2 – then held it aloft alone for just a beat too long until he snorted, “we wouldn’t be able to find anyone better connected. His ex-law partner from back in the day is Judge Cuccinelli and Judge Berry worked as his associate 20 years ago – they’re both on the bench over there now. And he’s taught at least half the rest of the judges on that court at one time or another, either at school or in continuing legal education classes.”

Rio rolled his eyes. All that all of that proved, in his opinion, was the very sad state of the Wayne County judiciary.

“And Reason 3 – the most important one – juries love him.”

He sighed and shook his head again, but without the heat from before.

“Rio, Eddie’ll be fine, trust me. And it’s not like I’m not going to be involved,” Gretchen’s tone had switched to sweet and conciliatory now that she sensed victory in her grasp, “I’m drafting up a joint defense agreement to be couriered over to his office. We can share thoughts and strategies and still maintain the appearance of separation between our respective clients.”

He knew he’d lost by then but he had to get one last dig in.

“You sure he can handle the workload, Gretch? Ain’t gonna drop dead before we get to trial? He gotta be 100 years old by now.”

It was Gretchen’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Exaggerate much? He can’t be more than 65 or so, and from what I’ve seen in court, still well in possession of all his mental faculties.”

That was a very low bar in his opinion, but he let it go.

Gretchen tilted her head, then leaned forward and put both elbows on her desk.

“Besides,” she said, and it seemed to him that suddenly she was watching him intently, “he won’t be handling it alone. He’s hired a new associate.”

Rio picked his chopsticks and bent back over to concentrate on wrangling his sushi again. He had already exhausted what little interest he’d ever had in talking about Professor Katz.

He expected Gretchen to keep on with her nagging and lecturing and low-key gloating about getting her way.

But there was only silence.

He looked back up to find her watching him still, her chin now resting on one hand.

She looked expectant.

“I bet you’ll never guess who it is,” Gretchen prompted. Her voice sounded a little odd to him. Almost gentle somehow?

Rio shrugged. That was a good bet on her part. It wasn’t like he gave a shit any which way, other than the passing thought of God help the poor little bastard who was going to be working for that lunatic.

Gretchen still didn’t say nothing. Just kept regarding him thoughtfully.

Damn, she could be so dramatic.

“Well, I’m definitely dyin’ of suspense over here now, Gretch,” he told her sarcastically, “so tell me – who?”

She was watching him so carefully, with such laser focus, that the second before she said the name, he knew who it was going to be and he almost, just almost, had time to brace himself before –

“Beth Boland.”

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teentitwns · 4 years ago

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soooo, as you know i wrote some bbrae fanfictions and, this one, especifically, called “all you had to do was stay” (yes, taylor swift’s song) was published in 2017 but i deleted after sometime because im little lazy and the history always seems easily in my mind.

anyway! i decided to rewrite this fanfiction and the first chapter is already posted on the brazilian website that i use (spirit fanfics), so why not put in here too?

please, remember that im brazilian and my english is a little broken - sorry for the mistakes you’ll find on the text.

well, thats it. im really nervous right now and insecure. i hope you like it and, maybe, i can post the fanfiction on ao3 or another website.

_______________

The protective dome around Raven was totally useless and, like her friends, she knew it.

She was there, standing in the middle of the contraption built by Cyborg, with all her vital signs being recorded on the computers that occupied a large part of the room, beeping together with the devices that showed her brain waves.

Everything had been perfectly assembled and positioned so that she had the best protection that anyone could have in the face of what was about to happen, but all those technological tools made her feel like a laboratory rat, studied in vain to discover that in the end the experience had gone wrong again.

She sighed loudly and propped her elbows on her knees, resting her face in one hand; she no longer cared about floating.

She felt physically and mentally drained to use her powers in something as unnecessary as floating, and she didn't need to be inches from the ground at that moment.

In fact, it was better to have contact with the earth, with the concrete floor. At least she would be sure that she was still alive, that the world was fine and whole.

Raven let out a loud snort and huffed impatiently, her eyes roaming the room until they found the door, waiting, miraculously, for one of the other Titans to enter. She had been inside that dome for hours and she couldn't take it anymore - loneliness was good when chosen willingly, not out of obligation.

To her despair, in addition to the blatant private prison that was happening there, the kidnapping, or anything else of that level, the situation made terrible flashbacks go through her head, making her remember Slade, the brand of Scath , the end of the world and, consequently, Trigon.

Why did everything have to be so similar? It seemed that karma was acting exactly the same as it had on her sixteenth birthday, creating a tedious and scary looping. She never considered herself a fan of automatic repetitions anyway.

Unconsciously, she took her left hand into the pocket of her midnight blue cloak in hopes of finding a specific object inside it, but this time, she had no lucky coin to cling to and consider as an amulet. She was alone, forgotten, practically left to die, just as she should have been two years ago, on the fateful day when Trigon’s Prophecy almost came true.

The empath, a “witch” as many called her, allowed herself to laugh with mockery. She hated feeling sorry for her own tragic life, but she couldn't escape the pitiful thoughts she was having. She probably didn't think differently from what her friends had in mind - she was just a poor girl, victim of circumstances, who was not to blame for being the fruit of the forbidden, unhealthy relationship between a human and an interdimensional demon. She was not to blame for being “Daddy's darling”, the one chosen to bring him to Earth for the second time, since she was a poorly raised daughter and prevented him the first time.

Now, at eighteen, she wouldn't be as lucky as she was at sixteen.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos… Azarath Metrion Zinthos…”, she closed her eyes and started to meditate, with nothing else to do. “Azarath Metrion Zinthos…”

“Raven!"

She opened her eyes with a start, facing Beast Boy. Awkwardly, he spread his hands on the thick glass of the dome, breathing heavily.

“Great.", She thought. “Of all the people that Robin could send, he chose the most restless."

" What are you doing here?", she asked.

“Dude, isn't it obvious? We’re doing it wrong! ”, Beast Boy waved his hands compulsively. “I mean, it's your father! There is no one better to stop him than you!”

“If I leave here it will be easier to get to Earth."

“I really don't want to be pessimistic, but he's already here, mama."

“Beast Boy..."

“It worked last time, didn't it? What good will it do you to be stuck in that dome? The world will end anyway!”

“Weren't you the one who was upbeat until two seconds ago?"

“I still am!"

“Does Robin know you're here?"

“…yes."

“I don’t believe that."

“Of course I told him,", the shapeshifter scratched the back of his head, causing his newly acquired muscles to start filling his uniform to appear. “I just don't know if he paid attention.”, He gave a nervous smile.

“It doesn't count as a warning."

“Have you never been told that what counts is the intention?"

Raven rolled her eyes and uncrossed her legs, standing up. She walked over to where Beast Boy was, touching the dome with her fingertips. He smiled broadly, running to the nearest computer and typing in the code that would free her.

When the dome barriers disappeared, Raven adjusted the hood on her head, thinking about the possibilities that surrounded her. Beast Boy was right, after all. Trigon was already on Earth, like the first time, and she would not be of much help if she were trapped, safe and sound, while her friends killed themselves to save the world.

“I knew you'd be up for it!" He celebrated, approaching her.

“It wasn't your worst idea."

“I'm smart, you underestimate me too much."

“I must have my reasons for that, right?

“Taking into account my discussions about tofu being the best food in the world can’t be considered as a reason.”

“No?”

“We all have our childish moments.”

“And you have your adult moments.”, she said.

“Nothing for having released you, I’m at your service.

“Where are they?”

“Downtown.”

“Excellent.”

“Raven”, Beast Boy called her when she started to leave. “Are you ready to go?”

“You don’t?”

“It's just… You have nothing to bring you luck.”

“I don't believe in luck.”, she lied, ignoring the thought that she had been wishing for a lucky charm a few minutes ago.

“Why not?”

“I make my own luck.”

“But it's always good to have help, isn't it?”

“Come on, Beast Boy.”

He shook his head negatively and approached her, holding her arm firmly and preventing her from getting away. The difference in height between them remained almost nil, with Raven looking a little taller from a distance because of the hood.

She frowned and looked at him without understanding, trying to pull her arm out of his grip, uncomfortable with the position they were in.

“It's just…”, Beast Boy started to speak. “I shouldn't be here and I know it. You are always so focused and correct that you even embarrass me for acting that way, but, last time, you had the coin I gave you and we won.

“I don’t know where it is.”, Raven lied, lowering her head to hide the blush on her cheeks. Some of her emotions were manifested in Nevermore, reminding her of the small passion she held for him. Passion, that, that she was sure that she would never be reciprocated. He was not a philanderer, he had never dated anyone after Terra, but he was not unaware of love affairs like her. She had a little more experience, even though she was also small. “We can't keep others waiting.”

“I can't let you go without an amulet.”

“There is no such thing as luck, Beast Boy! How many times have I told you that we need to run after what we want?”

“Many.”

“And none of them fixed on your brain?”

“Apparently no.”

“I should have imagined.”

“Why can't you give me a credit?”

“You are acting like a child who believes in Santa Claus.”

“And you're being cruel to me.”, he complained. “I thought you stopped that a while ago.”

“I stopped. Are we going to battle or not?”, Raven asked impatiently. “The world is about to end!”

“I know!”

“Then let me go!”

“I can't let you leave here without an amulet!”

“So give me this shit!”

Raven's words echoed around the room, and Beast Boy smirked, as if he had been waiting for this ever since they started arguing.

Such nonsense fights and quick discussions were not new to them, who were used to being awkward a few times a day, always for stupid reasons. However, that time, the shapeshifter had a purpose and, knowing that Raven would play the game, he put his idea into practice, which ended up working very well, thank you.

Raven shook her head and shrugged, silently asking if he wouldn't give her anything. She was waiting for a frog charm or other coin, but all she received was a warm kiss on the mouth, which made her blow up the nearest computer monitor.

The touch of Beast Boy's lips on his made her close her eyes instantly, her body and mind embracing the fact that she wanted that kiss - she had even been waiting for him for a long time, having fantasized the moment several times in the stillness of his. room.

On the other hand, Beast Boy didn't explode at all, but he felt his whole body vibrating. Her cheeks were as flushed as Raven’s, and it had taken him a long time to have the courage to kiss her.

The kiss could not be considered "worthy of a movie" because the two were too tense to give themselves up completely. They did not know where to put their hands and neither should they do it; A light in their heads blinked incessantly, reminding them that the world was ending while they were kissing, and billions of people were at risk.

It could be considered an ordinary kiss, but for Raven and Beast Boy, it meant much more than that.

They separate after a few seconds, unable to exchange a direct look. Beast Boy cleared his throat and Raven clung more tightly to her cloak, almost disappearing inside it.

“Raven”, Beast Boy smiled, making her look him in the eye quickly. Without breaking eye contact, he simply stuck a five-cent coin in her hand. Like old times. “Good luck.”

—————————————-

ok, i had no idea that the text would lose the diagramming!!! i wrote this on my iphone notes, sorryyyy

#teentitwns #bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #raven #beast boy #fanfiction

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cateringisalie · 3 years ago

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My list of bearable Binal Bantasy VII tags is thinning...

But seriously. Being skeptical of Tifa’s narration of past events is not without merit. By the time the Lifestream scene rolls around she has been through three comas and some grevious injuries. The Lifestream scene is as revelatory for her as it is for Cloud.

The new assertion she was in any way actually friends with Cloud is not only in conflict with the OG’s portrayal but counter to Cloud’s development, her development, the growth of their relationship as adults and why (in general) people have them stay together post game.

Its unnecessary, frustrating and further damaging Tifa’s character who is spinning off further from who she was.

That Tifa and Cloud were not actually childhood friends does not mean they do not have a relationship in FFVII. It does not mean they cannot be together. Tifa “falling in love�� with Cloud at the water-tower does not for a second make their later relationship any more meaningful.

All this new ship information does is make the relationship have longer longevity than previously assumed. As if whichever relationship has lasted longer is betterer and stronger. As if this should automatically undercut any other relationship Cloud or Tifa can possibly experience.

(in fact - and darkly cynically - this feels a lot more like enforcing that Cloud/Tifa and Zack/Aerith operate in near exactly the same way. The pairs fall in love in record time (two years prior to the Nibelheim incident both times as far as I’m ware), the boys go missing and the girls never move on with their lives. I get the boys have gone missing without a shred of explanation or closure, but now for both of them people are willing to wipe out a quarter of their lives waiting. Teenagers are resilient you know? They will be inconsolable if this happened but they would bounce back a lot faster and cleaner than they would expect. The approval of the never moving on this is purely to keep the shipping uncomplicated. There can only be one pairing for Tifa, there can only be one pairing for Aerith. And if you think otherwise you’re wrong in canon. And who wants to write or read about a non-canon ship? Unless its yaoi/yuri in any case. I am so tired)

Childhood friends incidentally is not, however much some insist, a common trope of the series - unless you stretch it a fair amount and it encompasses a trivial number of the pairings. And none of the big ones (you know; Squall/Rinoa or Tidus/Yuna).

Could Tifa do with more backstory? Of course. Did Tifa’s mother deserve a name? Absolutely! But not like this. Not when Cloud helping round up cats in Remake is now tied to finding Tifa’s cat in a new authored backstory. This speaks again to the constant magpie-ing of existing imagery and moments from older parts of FFVII to feed the present. The retconning in of importance by changing the meaning of otherwise unimportant moments.

Tifa is not and never was under any obligation to like Cloud as a child. She did not bully him, but neither should she expected to involve him in anything she did. I understand the book has muddied this gloriously, but for what effect?

I mean, I know where the desperation to make Cloud and Tifa childhood friends stems from. I know why you want Cloud to have fallen in love with Tifa at like age 5 or something and for Tifa to fall in love with him at 13. And I rail against it all the time that its not necessary. Being first does not mean better.

Maybe I am old, cynical and exhausted, but I kind of like watching Cloud and Tifa grow closer in FFVII. I like watching Cloud and Aeris grow closer in FFVII. I like to experience these things where I can... experience them? I don’t like reading books which assert things in blunt statements that clarify exactly what the writer intended. I certainly don’t have the patience to wait for a later book to clarify what happened on-screen when I have drawn my own conclusions based on my preferences. Especially as this is all contributing to that continued sense that the OG is a smelly, badly designed embarrassment we would rather tiday away for the crime of being graphically inferior (never mind it was championed on its looks on release) and “goofy” (and apparently unable to run the gamut of emotions I remember from serious to comedy, to silly, to tragic, to pessimistic and quietly optimistic and moving).

I’m coming back to this point to stress it - I want to see the relationship growth. Remake gave me that for Aerith and Cloud even if the details aren’t to my taste. First meeting is awkward because hey, random stranger/Cloud is tired. Cloud gets involved and spends more time with Aerith. And the high-five thing is used as a clumsy/awkward/eh but clear metaphor for how their relationship develops over the course of their time together.

To the point that yes, it makes sense for Cloud to want to rescue her. Less sense for Elmyra and Tifa to be “Well they might not vivisect her” and then delay for two full chapters, but the whole thing flows.

And here’s where I get accused of being a fake fan: I don’t like how Cloud and Tifa’s relationship develops in Remake. Flirting. Tifa being mildly fazed by Cloud claiming its been five years. Scared when he almost kills Johnny. Maybe hurt depending on your resolution scene (hey podcast people! No Gold Saucer multiple dates because too expensive? How are there branched resolution scenes in Remake then?). But there isn’t growth. They seem to fit into each other’s lives without worry, bit of flirting, strange super-intense moments jammed into inappropriate sequences (the train roll, climbing the plate, Cloud remembering the promise unprompted, Tifa not actually engaged with Avalanche’s plans). There’s no sense anything has changed between them, the missed five years has done anything to them.

And I’m sure some would take this as proof of correctness. But... somehow Remake is better for realism despite a lot of new clumsy, but this relationship is not dinged for being implausible? No way does that five year gap not seriously impact any prior relationship to say nothing of developing from scratch.

See this was a neat thing about the OG; while Tifa seemed to have an edge over Aerith by knowing Cloud longer, he was in effect meeting them at the same point in his life and more or less starting from scratch with both. Both ships are valid, and even if Cloud is with Tifa come the end, it doesn’t mean he can’t have romantic feelings about both women.

Oh, but Nojima has changed his mind/always intended it this way. And? I can change my mind about liking what he’s written - and my patience and tolerance of Nojima has waned massively since 1997. To the point where his involvement invokes a pained groan from me.

Plus the hilarious attitude that this is from the same people who insisted “the OG will always be there, stop moaning about Remake”. Well guess what? I don’t like Remake and I don’t really want it around. The OG is better.

Yes, Tifa is under-served and sure, it could be clearer about shipping (but the apparent hostility to ambiguity and personal interpretation is deeply distressing. These things can mean something to you and don’t have to mean the same thing to everyone. Interpreting the romancs - again - not a competition).

BUT

I will take the OG version of Tifa where she believed in the cause, where she had friends (again, yes, the relationship between Tifa and the rest of Avalanche is not well depicted, but it was better than actively curtailing it), where she ran a bar THAT ACTUALLY OPENED AND SERVED CUSTOMERS, where she hated Shinra, where she didn’t know how to treat Cloud because she had only really talked to him once in her life and DESPITE THAT that they great closer and spent their last night before THE END OF THE WORLD together over the Remake.

Where Tifa is wary of Cloud for about 5 seconds, twice and then defaults to constant flirting. Where Cloud is near smothering Tifa every second they’re together and she doesn’t tell him to fuck off once. Where she’s allied with Avalanche but hates their methods (and the pacifists are in a shop around the corner and she is not with them because...?). Where she has some absurd contrived plot about medical bills and buying Seventh Heaven for Barret and Marlene.

Which would lead to a whole other rant titled “Marle is the Worst” but this has dragged on quite long enough.

But seriously; if you argue that we can’t hate Remake because OG is always there, then you have to stop applying Remake back to OG and using it as proof. Which is exactly why many people bemoaned the Remake at all. OG is one thing, Remake is another. I don’t care for the latter.

And I know if anyone does read all this it will be about the meanie Cleriths who diminish Tifa for no good reason. And yes, they are indeed acting in bad faith. But what makes you think for a second evidence will convince these people?

In particular, the argument has raged so long and always will because if people do not like a ship they will not accept it as canon (if they care about this as a factor) NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS. Literally. Look at Loki if you want the most recent example of this.

Canon is to many “what I want” and often does not tally with the general interpretation. And you know, if being “canon” or guessing right early wasn’t triumphed as such a vital thing, we might not get these really terrible and pointless arguments.

Canon is a prize but here’s the big secret: fandom - in general - does not care. FFVII is an excellent case example given Sefikura overwhelms the other ships (and I think AZGSC is close?). And that’s not canon. That’s not even in the ballpark of the Cloud/Tifa vs Cloud/Aerith arena (even give that the former is roughly twice the size of the latter, you already won, so please stop?). Canon is only important if you think its important - and you get some more official art of sequences you can gif. And maybe you get kissing/implied sex/marriage/kids, but most of all you get a smug sense of superiority. And the last is why I have no patience with this.

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