#lets see who gets angry over this very clear and obvious OPINION of mine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caprina-mints · 4 years ago

Note

Could we maybe get a scenario where EJ is in heat and doing the dirty with his s/o if that’s fine ówò

So This Became a Oneshot Because I accidentally made it a bit too Long! But I Hope everyone Enjoys This Though! : )

Type : SMUT

Word Count : 4208

E.J's HEAT

As Usual it's like any other Day at the Mansion being part of this bizarre family is really one heck of a ride. You never know what could happen like anything could happen. Anything.

You're fresh meat. You just joined the family two months ago and getting used to everyone and their behavior was a real pain in the ass.

But surprisingly you clicked well with Toby and E.J the two both have a unique and striking personality but the one that intrigued you the most was Jack.

He gives off a cold and mysterious vibe and you just can't help but to have your curious eyes gleaming at him. You two got along well and he told you a little bit of everything when it came to the human anatomy.

He's a bit over protective of you maybe it's because he sees you as a trusted friend? Well during those 2 months You and Him became a little Mushy together and a week earlier he has been acting extremely weird.

Like, He'd growl if another male creep came near you or even talked to you. He's around you all the time and the only place you're actually alone is your bedroom.

He kept tugging and nudging you just to get his attention and whenever you give him any form of physical touch he'd purr and lean onto you .

He's become very clingy and from the looks of it. It wasn't good judging from the looks the creeps were giving you.

They knew something You don't. Today you were sent on a Job which is unusual because you never get sent out alone but you are now.

Fortunately the Job was easier than expected so you went back to the mansion early.

You barely even touched the door and a Body was sent flying out knocking you along with it.

Groaning you sat back to see who it was and it was none other than the resident smile kid, Jeff.

" What the fuck? " You groaned standing up and brushing your clothes off of the remaining dirt.

" Y/n!... You're fucking back!? " Jeff sounded nervous and bothered seeing you and his expression and tone made it so obvious it offended you.

" Yeah? What's wrong with it? You think I'd never come back because of a tiny Job? " You threw a sharp glare his way and he didn't seem to give a reaction to your attempt on intimidating him .

" You gotta go. Now! ASAP! " Jeff tried shoving you back into the forest and you were dragged on the way.

" Hey! Let me go! What gives!? " You grumbled trying to pry his hand away from your wrist.

But your action was cut short when you heard a loud Yell which sounded more like an animalistic Growl come from inside the mansion.

" What the fuck? What's going on Jeff?! " You asked in panic and at the corner of your eye you could see Jeff Visibly Swallow.

It was definitely serious.

" Did you guys summon a Demon or something!? To get revenge on slenderman? " You jumped to your own assumptions because if he isn't giving you an answer you're going to make your own assumptions .

" No why on earth would we do that? Ok I would! But our Demon Boy is Going In Heat which means He's basically A Cageless Feral Beast on the Loose! " Jeff explained as he continued to drag you deeper into the forest but his pace had increasing by every passing second.

" What does it have to do with me!? " You yelled looking back at the doors of the mansion which were now pounding violently.

" Are you Dumb? Isn't it obvious? He's a demon. He's in heat. If Demons are in Heat they look for a Mate to Fuck and You're unfortunate enough to Have E.J see you as a potential Mate " Jeff explained and you were actually quite shocked by his statement... That's the most well executed Explanation you heard him say.

" Wow.. You sounded kinda uh... Less stupid when you said that " You commented which earned a groan of annoyance from the bleached Smile Child.

You two didn't manage to get far when the doors burst open and you could see. A Black figure heading your way at full speed and following behind that figure were Masky, hoodie, Toby, Ben , Helen and Even Puppeteer Seemed to be involved with the chase.

" Run! They couldn't Hold Him much Longer! " Ben yelled coming out from the mansion and Immediately You Bolted off with Jeff at Full speed never looking back.

You were actually terrified ... 1. if you stay You get Fucked By E.J who you have a hidden feeling for which is... Uh.. Kinda Great? But... 2. I heard Demons Eat their Partners After Sex and you definitely don't want to end up dead. It must be a fact because the one who told you about that was a demon... Jack himself.

" Mate! " You heard a rough growl from behind you his voice Echoing through the woods and when you looked back to take a peek boy were you scared shitless.

He was running on all fours his mask off and his teeth razor sharp, his claws extended and looked extra deadly and he has this domineering aura with him that made every cell of your body shout RUN. Behind him were the rest of the Boys Following Behind and even Puppeteer's strings couldn't hold him.

" Shit He's Catching up! " Jeff yelled and you couldn't help but give off a snarky comment.

" Ya Think!? " You snapped , Your feet were getting tired from running because you just got back from a fucking Mission. You didn't expect to be served a full course of Bullshit when you got back.

" Y/n! " Oh Lord the way he growled out your name made your knees weak and you stumbled on a rock but lucky for you Jeff wasn't being a prick and he pulled your weight back up while running .

" Don't Touch Her! " E.J's threatening Snarl was heard from behind and his Voice changed to something more vicious and ruthless.

" Jack! Stop Chasing Us! " You Cried out because your legs couldn't Take it Anymore, You were panting, sweaty and most of all Traumatized.

You once lived as a normal human who knows nothing about Demons and This World of killers. You were just dragged in unexpectedly and you can't take everything in one go! .

" Then Stop Fucking running from me! " You didn't expect him to reply and you felt relief wash over you.

" So you'll stop chasing us if we stop running? You'll Leave us alone? " You asked making sure you and him are on the same page.

You heard a loud audible growl before you heard his answer.

" Yes " It sounded forced judging by his tone and you were skeptical at first but Jeff had other plans and saw right through His.

" Don't listen to Him! I've lived with Him longer and obviously He's Lying! " Jeff stated and his words made the angry demon boy growl at Jeff, as if he was warning Him.

" Jeff. Don't Fucking Test Me! " He barked and that was enough to silence both of us.

" I can't take it anymore. Jeff even though you're an asshole you're gonna have to live on " You panted and Jeff Flashed you a questioning Look. You didn't bother to reply because it's time to face your fears.

You stopped on your tracks as you turned around Closing your eyes expecting the worst .

You felt sharp claws tug on your hips and your back was slammed on a nearby tree.

You heard growling , the type of growl a prey gives to a little bunny... Yeah it was that scary.

You forced your eyes to peek a look and you saw E.J's figure towering over yours baring his sharp teeth and his claws dug deeper on your flesh making you whimper.

" Why'd you run!? Especially with another man! You like others touching you Huh!?" He spat out angrily his face dangerously close to yours. He was using the same tone earlier and it made you weak.

" Why'd you chase us!? Of course it's a common instinct to run if you see something chasing you... Ready to eat you" You murmured the last part but E.J heard it loud and clear.

" I just wanted to be close to You But you ran away... You don't want to be with me that much? " He whimpered almost like a small dog who was abandoned by his owner.

He nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck your sweet smell intoxicating him but he knew he had to control himself.

His claws were no longer as sharp as they were before and you could hear him purring while rubbing himself on your form.

" Guilt Tripping me is a really old move E.J " You chuckled trying to pry him off you but he whined holding onto you even tighter.

Oh what the hell I'm going with it.

You placed your hand gently on his head petting his locks of brown hair, he started purring and leaned on your touch his hands going lower but the two of you were interrupted.

" Y/n! Get away from Him! " You heard the familiar voice of Jeff and this time Masky, hoodie and the rest were here.

You didn't get to react because Jack pulled you in his arms growling at the other males. Baring his teeth and almost hissing at them Jack took a few steps back with you.

" Stick your noses to your own fucking business! "

" Jack! She may be a potential mate but we can't have you fucking someone in the mansion just because of your heat. You may not even feel anything for-"

" She is MY mate, she is Mine to Keep and Mine to Love. I don't need your opinion to tell me what to Do! She'll be mine forever and I'll stay true to my words now fuck off! " Jack Snarled glaring at everyone else . The boys seemed to be communicating in a telepathic way because they just exchanged a few looks to one another before finally leaving.

" Y/n...last call if you don't want to just say so we'll help you" Hoodie called out and when you gave the slightest reaction to his question Jack Started whining and whimpering almost like he was physically hurt.

" Uh... I'll be Fine " You answered and Hoodie nodded walking off.

" So- Ah! " You squealed when you were thrown over his shoulder.

" Jack! Wait where are we going? " You asked when he started walking the opposite direction of where hoodie and the rest were heading.

".... I have a cottage around here whenever I'm having my heat... " He answered in a hushed tone .

You looked back at his features and you noticed how he kept realising puffs of breaths, His Face was oddly a different shade that usual and his hands were really fidgety.

" Jack if I'm heavy you can put me dow-"

" And let you run away again? you're not doing that you little Brat. Running away like that with another man. Oh you like teasing me don't you? " His tone was deep and taunting and you could feel his hand crawling its way up your ass.

You felt him squeeze your butt cheek making you gasp and groan when he smacked your ass.

" Jack stop! " You grumbled bit he didn't take that lightly.

" Oh? Resisting me too? " His hand trailed lower down to your pussy rubbing your pussy through the thin fabric of your leggings.

You bit back a moan closing your eyes , he didn't like it and started rubbing you at a rougher pace.

He didn't stop while maneuvering his way through the thick forest and by the time you two arrived at a small cottage you were soaked.

You survived that part by swallowing your voice and it seemed to have thrilled him even more taking it as a challenge.

Opening the door he closed it using his feet and immediately threw you on the couch were he towered over you glaring down at your form.

" Holding back your moans I see? You'll be screaming before you know it " He muttered his large hands gripping onto the fabric of your shirt and with ease he tore your shirt to shreds leaving you in your bra and the only piece of clothing you had now were your leggings.

Your heartbeat began to increase as you scooted away from him . He noticed that and grabbed your foot pulling you over in between his legs both of your legs spread and set on each of his sides and you could clearly feel his hardened cock from your position.

" Oops to Late to run away Now" He grinned using his claws to tear the fabric of your bra and before you knew it he attacked your lips in a hungry Kiss his hands groping your boobs, squeezing and pinching your nipples making you moan in the kiss.

He bit down on your lower lip just enough to tear the skin drawing out a small amount of blood before continuing down to your neck and collar bone his sharp teeth pricking your skin feeling him suck, kiss and nip your neck, your shoulder and collarbone.

You tried pushing him off but he had your hands under his grisly grip before licking and taking your cold buds in his warm mouth his tongue playing and swirling around your breast giving a subtle bite before sucking on your breast each Mounds having the same amount of attention and pleasure.

You arched your back moaning slowly giving into the pleasure he released your hands before shoving two of his fingers inside your mouth . You got the hint and welcomed his fingers inside your mouth sucking and coating his fingers with your saliva while continuing his unfinished worked with your breast.

After awhile he pulled his fingers away and faster than you could say 'I' your leggings along with your soaked panties were ripped and thrown to the floor gasping when the cold air hit your glistening pussy and the very same fingers you sucked on earlier came rubbing on your clit earning a loud shaky moan to tear away from your throat.

He looked so smug seeing how wet you were and he didn't waste another second and placed both of your legs on his shoulders his face dangerously close to your heated flower .

" J-jack Wa- Ahh~" You couldn't stop him when his long Black tongue came lapping on your juices.

His tongue draped over your pussy in a slow and agonizing way making you whine and glare up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

He chuckled at your needy state before his teeth came in contact with your inner thighs biting down on your flesh making you flinch and squeak.

He left a noticeable bite mark on your inner thighs before his teeth grazed on your other thigh doing the same thing while your slick covered pussy was needy for his attention.

" Jack please " You whined biting your bottom lip and hearing you plead for him to give you more aroused him further.

His tongue sneakily slid past your folds and into your squelching pussy , your moans shaky and desperate your hands flailed around to find something to hold on and subconsciously you held onto his brown messy locks raking your fingers through his hair as his tongue went in and out of your fleshy walls and your walls wet and needy welcomed him desperately sucking his tongue in.

You could feel him so deep inside of you it made you squirm and cry out his name in pleasure.

How long is his tongue!?.

Your hips bucked and rocked while he ate you out his tongue playing freely inside you but that was when another tongue rolled out of his mouth and another one.

" Oh shit Jack! " You screamed when he inserted another one while the shorter one lapped on your clit and teased your folds.

Your core lit up when both of his tongues came wiggling inside your walls only making your walls clench tightly around his tongues and when a bubbly and hot sensation built up inside you and was ready to release he pulled back his chin and mouth covered by your juices and slowly dropped down on his chest. He stared at you with a lascivious grin when you grumbles and whine for him to finish what he started.

" You were resisting and running away from me earlier... Look at you now... So wet and Needy for me... What do you want mate? " He purred as he pulled down his pants along with his boxers revealing his thick veiny cock which was bigger than you expected.

How's that supposed to fit?

As if he read your expression he gave you an answer.

" Oh it's gonna fit. I'll make sure you're taking every inch of me for making me go through all that trouble chasing you around like a mad Dog" He growled his figure growing bigger , his ears began to grow longer as well as his claws . Now you know that this is the demon Jack had been hiding.

" Answer me! " He spat at you his hand snaking to your throat slightly choking you and damn hell it sure did turn you on.

" Your Cock... Fuck me till I can't walk anymore " You choked out and that was enough for him to ram his whole length in not even going gentle at first. He didn't give you time to adjust because technically this isn't Jack anymore. He slid inside easily because of how wet you were to begin with .

" Oh- Shit Jack! " You couldn't even finish your sentence because you were choked up in your own moans.

He was going so fast, You felt his Knot and the very shape of his Cock mold inside your pussy. He hit the deepest part of you with every fast and rough thrust.

His speed was in human and it felt so good you almost forgot how to breathe being choked up and at the same time being a moaning mess from his roughness.

You heard his gruff groans and pants not even holding back a loud snarl he placed both of his hand right next to your head trying to steady himself as he pounded is inside you mercilessly and everytime he pumped himself in, your walls would gladly squeeze the life out of him.

An animalistic growl escaped his lips as he gritted his teeth, his claws digging and ripping into the cushion of the furniture and you heard something crack. Was it the couch or the wooden floor.

Tears began to pool at the corner of your eyes holding onto his neck for dear life your legs tightly wrapped around his torso , you couldn't keep up with how rough he is you began to feel dizzy.

Every time he snapped his back and rammed himself in he could reach the deepest depths he could .

Your toes curled arching your back while moaning in pleasure as you reached your high releasing your juices all over his cock. Your walls dangerously clenching his cock which led him to bite down on your shoulder finally releasing his thick seeds deep inside of you.

Panting while staying on that position he pulled himself out of your cum filled pussy that leaked out his seeds.

He sat back on the couch panting before his hand came down on his cock jerking himself while staring at you.

It didn't take him 5 seconds and he was already rock hard.

Oh wow.

He yanked you by your arm and you sunk down on your knees infront of him with his cock standing hard with all its glory.

This time he guided your hand on his shaft letting you stroke him.

Did he really think you're that innocent? Hah. Just watch.

At first your movements were shy and timid and you stuck your tongue out a little to give his tip a few kitten licks.

Looking down at you he saw such an adorable expression in your face. He didn't expect you to directly take his whole cock in your mouth in one go unexpectedly.

He was completely caught of guard his clawed hand pulled on your hair and a loud breathy moan was forced out of his throat staring at you with wide eyes.

" Fuck " He groaned out when you started bobbing your head up and down while occasionally pulling away with a pop before trailing your tongue from his base up to his tip.

The sight of you was really something he'd kill to see. Kneeling right there with an Innocent face while taking his cock like that. Shit he found it extremely hard to control himself around you.

It didn't help when you took him whole once again your hands going down to massage his balls while increasing your speed.

You were so pretty and so good with your tongue. He just had to have you right now and that's exactly what he did.

He stood up shoving your head down on the couch befire you felt him his cock enter you again .

Gasping in surprise you felt his clawed had dig into the skin of your hips and your pussy took him in so tight and so well it made the both of you moan in sync.

Shit how the fuck are you still this tight after he literally wrecked you earlier? .

He didn't much for awhile and it irritated you. You wanted him to fuck you already. You raised your hips but his grip on your flesh made it hard to do so.

" Fucking Move! " You groaned clutching onto the cushion of the couch.

" I'm fucking working on it you impatient little Mate" He pulled back only to push himself back in again.

It made you moan and shudder your knees shaking and your hands trembling as you held onto the seat of the couch when he started ramming himself in again and again .

Your pussy swallowing his cock deep inside you every time he did so. You sucked him inside your walls so well he was so close to releasing again.

You cried out and loud pants and mewls filled the room because you were still so fucking sensitive and you were still being fucked by him at such an animalistic way.

You felt his weight in your hips and he started going even faster. You were practically drooling while moaning out his name.

Your mind felt so mushy and you were slowly seeing stars.

You started moving your hips to meet his thrusts and every time you did he kept hitting that one spot that could make you scream .

You cursed under your breath and felt your walls hugging his cock even tighter. He looked down on you seeing you at such a vulnerable state under his mercy was really something. A growl rumbling at the back of his throat. You were squeezing onto his cock like you were ready to milk him dry.

His thrusts became shallow but soon he sped up almost immediately catching his breath while you made a lot more sinful sounds underneath him.

After a few more thrusts the two of you came at the same time your cum mixed with his and you could feel it leaking out of your hole because of how much was inside. Panting while trying to keep yourself from fainting he stayed at that position for awhile before leaning down to trail soft kisses on your bare back.

" ... after my heat you are obligated to Date me. If you say otherwise... I have my ways to get you around-"

" Oh my God Jack I love you too ok? No need to go that far " You grumbled and from you position you heard his chuckle and another kiss was planted on your back.

" I'm glad you do Y/n "

" Oh and... You're not gonna eat me right? " You asked cautiously and he was quiet for a few seconds before he burst out laughing.

" You seriously believed what I said? I was just Joking Little Mate "

" Tsk... Fuck you Jack "

" Oh I see that you're ready for another round"

By the Time you two were finally done you were cum soaked and sticky, the two of you hopped in the shower but it led to something more again.

#creepypasta #SMUT #Creepypasta smut #Creepypasta Oneshot #Eyeless Jack x Reader #Eyeless Jack Smut #Send in more asks Lovelies!💞#Heats #Eyeless Jack x s/o #Smutshot

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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, I saw that you wanted Fred requests and I shall fulfill your wishes lol. I was thinking a Malfoy!reader when she’s In Hufflepuff and is just nice and she’s friends with Fred and George. One Christmas she goes home and comes back and only wears long sleeves. And Fred thinks she got the dark mark so he confronts her and she is offended bc he thought she would do something like that and she try’s to walk toward him and he reaches for his wand. she shows him and she has bruises from her dad.

This is so angsty... I love it

Warnings: Abuse, sad. Big big sad.

You had been keeping to yourself a lot more lately. It was so strange. You never did that, you always came to Fred or George if there was a problem but right now you weren't speaking to anyone. Instead you'd have yourself wearing a cardigan. Even in a warm ass class room, you refused to take it off. You were so strange lately and Fred noticed Draco acting the same way. Course Harry knew why Draco was acting the way he was. Draco had the dark mark. Which immediately made the group question whether or not you had one too. Fred hated questioning your loyalty, for God's sake he was your best friend. But considering the way you were acting, this wasn't exactly looking up. Fred walked over to you one day and sat down. "Hey, Y/n. Would you like to stay with my family for the summer?" He asked. What better way to prove this theory than to have you close, right? "... I'd like that." You nodded with this distant look.

So there you stood in the living room. Even in a home that seemed so tightly packed, you were quiet and kept to yourself, occasionally disappearing. Bill could recognize something in you. He could recognize abuse. Especially after you caught something Molly nearly dropped with your arm and yelped. You would pull back from conversation when it started to be about your father and Bill recognized something was definitely wrong. Finally Fred had enough though. They all sat around when they were sure you were asleep. "I think Y/n might have a dark mark." George sighed. "I hate to agree here but I think she does too." Fred sighed. "I don't think that's what's going on here." Bill said. "She's been acting pretty off lately. So has her brother." Harry pointed out. "Look, I could see how you would think that that's what's happening but I really don't think that's what's going on." Bill said. "So what do you think is going on then?" Arthur asked. "So you suspect her too?" Bill asked. "She hasn't been seen around this house without a cardigan or long sleeves. She's been acting very strange since she's gotten here and avoids talking about home. Ohhh." Arthur realized what Bill was getting at at the end of his sentence. "Yes, Bill I see your concern now." Molly agreed. "Care to share with the class?" Ron asked. "Well..." "I say we ask her point blank." George said. "That's not a wise plan." Arthur said. "And what is? Let a potential supporter of you know who stay with us!?" Fred asked. "Where are the girls?" Molly asked. "... They're with her." George said. "Maybe we should ask for their opinion--" Fred said nothing, going upstairs. "Shit." Bill murmured.

"I really think we should tell someone." Hermione said softly. "what's the point? Guys he works for the source it's not going to do any good." Fred heard you say. "Still..." Ginny sighed. Fred knocked on the door and Ginny opened it after hearing shuffling. "Can I help you?" Ginny asked. "I need to talk to Y/n." Fred said. "Can your booty call wait and not be in my room?" Ginny asked. ".... Seriously Gin?" Fred asked. "Alright fine! Mione. Fred wants to talk to Y/n." Ginny said. Both girls shuffled out and he closed the door. "Fred? What's going on--" "Do you have a dark mark?" He asked. You blinked and stood up. "You really think that ill of me?" You asked, looking offended by that idea. "I think you've been acting off lately and you won't tell us why! Come on Y/n you've been really weird over the course of this year!" He said. You said nothing and Fred stepped forward in such a way that made you jump back. Your heart began to pound and you began hyperventilating. "I-I'm sorry." You whimpered. Fred halted after seeing that look. No.... Something isn't right. You were shaking and your face had pure terror across it. "Y/n... I just need to you take off the cardigan." Fred said. You shook slightly and finally brought your fingers to it before pulling it off. Bruises. Everywhere. Fred looked at you and ran a hand over his face. "Please don't hurt me..." You whispered. He looked at you and realized when he walked towards you angry he must've sent you into a haze. "Y/n, Princess I'm not going to hurt you." He said softly. He approached and you pulled back. He stopped. "Y/n... Breathe..." He said softly. "Ginny!" Fred called after a little bit. She popped her head in. "Hmm?" She asked. "Get Y/n some water." Fred said. "What did you do!?" Hermione noticed you. "I accidentally scared her." Fred said. Hermione pushed past him and she carefully put her hands on your arms. "Y/n you're not there. You're here, you're home. Okay?" Hermione said softly. You broke down sobbing against Hermione, gripping her as if she was the last thing you had. Fred couldn't believe that he made that happen. Honest to God he didn't mean for this to happen.

Fred slowly retreated and went back downstairs leaving the girls alone. "Well?" Bill asked. "...She doesn't have a dark mark." Fred said. Ginny frowned with a glass of water in her hand. "Sorry, you were questioning her loyalty and didn't think to ask the girls she was staying with!?" Ginny asked. "...." Fred's silence was enough as she sat down the glass of water and smacked him upside the head. "God you guys are fucking idiots." Ginny huffed before leaving. "What's going on?" Ron asked. "She's been living through abuse." Bill said. Fred sighed. "I cannot believe I just accused my best friend of being a traitor." Fred muttered. "Especially just to find out that that is actually what's been happening." George sighed. You cleared your throat, eyes still red. "Y/n dear--" "I'm sorry if I ever made you think that I'd support him. But I have details I think you might want to know." You muttered. "Y/n--" "I'm pissed with you." You said to Fred point blank. He looked down and you spoke. "You know who is staying at Malfoy manor. My father took the dark mark along with my brother but I outright refused. Not after they killed my friend." You said. Harry felt intense guilt, forgetting you were friends with Cedric. "Any guesses to what happened next, because if you actually think I'd take that fucking mark--" "We understand you didn't." Bill assured. You sighed letting out a humorless laugh. "My father didn't take me not doing that well. After all, I'm the disappointment to my family. The only non Slytherin and now the only one who refused to take that mark." You explained. "Y/n you don't have to--" "He hit me. Over and over again. Just to please that souless monster they call a dark lord. He stopped treating me like flesh and blood to make him happy and my mother let that happen." You snapped. "I cannot imagine..." Bill sighed. "I can't believe that you would ever doubt my loyalty to you. Ever." You said to Fred. "You've been acting off Y/n, I didn't think this was why." Fred said softly. You shook your head. "Now you know. Please just... Fuck off." You muttered before walking back upstairs. Fred let out this groan of guilt in his hands. "I can't... I just accused my grieving friend of supporting the guy who killed her friend" he said. Molly went upstairs to check on you and Fred sighed. "I know... I mean I was right behind you on this theory I really thought..." George agreed. "What made it obvious to you Bill?" Fred asked. "Last week mom nearly dropped a crate. Y/n gabbed it with her arms and nearly screamed when she gripped it... I knew after she was holding her arms afterwards something else was going on." Bill said. "You could've said something earlier." George said. "I tried. You two weren't having it." Bill huffed. "I forgot for a moment that she was friends with Cedric... How could I... How do I forget something like that!?" Harry asked, referring to your reaction after the games seeing him dead.

When Harry came back with Cedric you were standing with his father... You were there sobbing into Fred's arms. How could all of them just... Forget that moment? Fred sighed. Fred sat at the table until everyone had gone to bed. You came downstairs for something to drink and he looked up after you sat down in front of him. "I'm sorry I got upset with you earlier... With the way I was acting I would've thought I was guilty too." You muttered. "Y/n I am so sorry... I just... I'm terrified that that bastard is lurking around the corner and he's going to just... Take everything." He admitted. You nodded. "Trust me when I saw him it was terrifying." You muttered. "You saw him?" Fred asked. "I said he was in the manor." You reminded. "Still... Face to face?" Fred asked. "Mmhmm." You nodded. "Blimey... That's..." Fred leaned back. "I'm sorry Y/n... For scaring you, for blaming you, for... Everything." Fred said. You took a sip of water and sighed. "It's fine--" "No it isn't. Y/n you've trusted me with so much and I feel like I've betrayed you. So... Ask me anything. Anything at all." Fred said. "Secret wise?" You asked. "it can be." Fred nodded. "...What did your Amortentia smell like?" You asked. Fred never said his out loud. He sniffed it, nodded and then leaned back and outright refused to answer Snape's question of what it smelled like. Then again, you also avoided it like the plague, not answering it either. "anything else?" He asked. "Nope. What did it smell like?" You asked. "Fuck uhm..." He sighed and squinted, debating if he should say. He did owe you the truth so... "You." He finally admitted. "What?" You asked. "You. The potion smelled like you." Fred admitted. "... You're serious?" You asked. "Yep." He nodded. "mine smelled like you." You admitted. "...Wait what?" Fred asked. "My potion smelled like you!" You repeated. "....Holy... I could've spent this entire time with you and I-- Christ how many stupid decisions have I made!?" Fred asked. "Uhhh Fred" "I mean seriously, am I going to accuse George of arson next-- actually that one could happen" "Fred" "Am I going to accidentally frame Ginny for murder!?" He asked. "Fred!" You said. "What!?" "We can fix this now. I mean if you still feel the same way." You said. "... You would want that? After everything that's happened today?" Fred asked. "Everyone has their rough patches Fred. Even us." You said softly. He took your hand in his. "Will you please be mine?" He asked. You smiled and squeezed his hand.

"I solemnly swear it."

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley

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luci-four · 5 years ago

Text

Candy. {Lucifer x Reader/MC}

A/N: *drops everything to write this* happy birthday to the literal love of my life thank you please except this stubborn ass mc,

This is in no way birthday themed but it was written *for* his birthday so i mean,,,

Lucifer is apprehensive about sweets. He accepts them with a smile if they’re given as a gift, but he’ll normally pass them along to one of his brothers in private to spare feelings; It doesn’t suit his tastes—indulging in a piece or two every now and again is something he’ll enjoy, but the idea of “sweet” (or perhaps it was the sugar rush?) just doesn’t settle with him well.

That included MC.

Something about them was sweet—not the way they treated others with devoted kindness though that were the definition of the word—but something else, something... borderline sinful. So sweet that it stirred up filthy desires within him.

They were a tease. He wondered if they knew that? It was obvious they did things to catch his attention, so they probably did—but did they truly know? The way they looked up at him through their lashes, the curve of their lips when they’re pulled into a smirk, the way they barely stick out their tongue and bite it when they’re being cheeky, even the way they drag out their touch whenever they get the chance to reach out to him. The feel of their touch was just so sinfully... sweet, it almost made him sick. He felt... filthy. It was so tempting.

The taunts never end with them. The way they saunter past him, the sultry drawl they give his name when it passes their lips, the way they bite their lip as he’s talking to them. Were they begging for trouble? Attention? Whichever it may be, they were finding themselves on thin ice—or was he finding himself on the ice instead? Try as he might, Lucifer finds himself focusing solely on MC instead of things around him, maybe he was more in trouble than they were; with trouble always came temptation.

Once again, he found a flirty succubus standing in front of him—a wide smile, a little hidden intention in their voice, handing him a heart-shaped box. They droned on, beating around the bush about asking him for a night out; he could feel another set of eyes on him, they didn’t feel happy at all. Accepting their gift with a smile, he politely declined their offer with the excuse of too much work, which they sighed at but accepted begrudgingly. Once they walked away, Lucifer turned to find the pair of eyes that would have burned a hole into the back of his head were it possible, but found that no one was there. Shrugging it off as simply someone else with a shallow crush on him, he went about the rest of his day.

The feeling of upset eyes on him never went away.

He would scan rooms each time, but found no one looking his way. When he came up empty, his eyes were always drawn to MC, admiring the way they held their chin in their hand, eyes half-lidded with boredom—was it boredom, or was something upsetting them? He noticed them bite the inside of their cheek every so often; they knew he was looking at them, but why didn’t they meet his eye as they normally did with their usual reaction—sticking their tongue out just enough to bite it and give him a taunting look? It was odd. For some reason, it bothered him. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Sitting at his desk at the end of the day, he allowed himself a moment to breathe. He landed face first onto the stack of paper and let out a heavy sigh; maybe not knowing who had been looking at him bothered him much more than he thought it initially would. It kept him distracted all day, as well as wondering just what had been bothering MC so much that they had the audacity to ignore him; didn’t they know he hated to be ignored? He sighed once more and sat up, ready to suffer through stacks of work that needed his attention.

Hours in, he unearthed the box of candy given to him earlier. He moved it to the corner of his desk—which brother should he give it to this time? Beel was always a safe bet, he thought. Elbows on his desk, he stared at the paper in his hand, analyzing each and every word hard enough he hadn’t heard the door to his room open and close, nor did he hear footsteps walk up beside him. MC had quickly stolen the paper from his hand before he even felt their presence.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“You look like you’re about to set the page on fire if you stare any harder at it.”

They gave the paper back and leaned against the corner of his desk, smiling when he turned his chair towards them.

“I suppose you’re right; I am focusing a bit too hard on it. Probably because my mind’s elsewhere.”

“Oh? Where is it?”

Lucifer looked away, not looking at anything in particular at his desk, but MC had apparently taken his gaze the wrong way.

“Ah, is it ‘cause of this?” They tapped the box of chocolates and picked it up before he could tell them otherwise. “Love been on the mind all day, then?”

“What? No, of course not--”

“They were kinda cute, why not go for it?”

“Do you hear yourself--”

MC looked at the box indifferently and opened it, looking over the pieces in it with a scrutinizing glare. Lucifer drew his eyebrows together, tilting his head in a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“Did you... just open my box of chocolates?” he emphasized his ownership, “Without permission?”

“You weren’t going to eat them anyway.”

They looked... irritated? He thought, at least. They looked upset as they popped one of the chocolates into their mouth, chewing awfully hard as though they were angry. He sat back in his chair and stared down his nose at them, leaning against his hand.

“Who said I wasn’t going to?”

“You never do.”

“Maybe I was this time. They’re mine, after all.”

“So... what’s different, you like the succubus that gave it to you this time?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened for a moment, disoriented with the realization that just slapped him in the face along with the bitter look in MC’s eyes and tone of voice. So, it had been them? The very eyes he constantly lost himself in were the ones full of... jealousy? He doubled over with laughter before he could stop himself; he laughed even harder when MC shouted at him. He hadn’t laughed this hard in a very long time, he had to wipe tears from his eyes when he sat back up.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I’m just... surprised.”

“About?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He waved off the cross glare they shot him and laid an arm on their thigh, resting his head on it and tried to give them the beautiful, teasing look they love to give him. “So, you’re just going to steal my candy?”

“Already told you,” they tossed another piece into their mouth, “you weren’t going to eat it anyway.”

Lucifer watched them closely; when they took another piece, they were sure to look away from him. They were obviously teasing with him now, hoping to catch his attention, and keep it on them. He didn’t think they’d be so jealous over something that wasn’t even there, but it was clear now that they did indeed know how much of a tease they were on a daily basis. They bit into it slowly, undeniably letting it melt in their mouth just to savour the sweet taste of whatever it took to mess with him.

Lucifer’s smirk dropped as he continued watching them, his mouth suddenly needing the taste of something sweet. The moment they glanced down at him to see if he was still watching them, he knew what he wanted—what they wanted—and he’d be a fool not to act on it.

He sat up once again, but not without lightly cupping MC’s face to turn it towards him first. MC leaned down towards his sitting form as he guided them there; his smirk returned as he leaned in close as well, letting his half-lidded eyes bore into theirs and his breath fan across their face.

“First, you steal something that’s mine, then you have the audacity to taunt me with it. You’re getting a little too bold, don’t you think?” When he was met with silence paired with a sly look and a glance from his eyes to his lips and back, he leaned in just enough to keep their lips a hair away from one another. “It seems you’ve eaten all of it without giving me so much as a taste. I think you might owe me an apology of sorts.”

“An apology?” They were noticeably melting against his hands, almost begging for him to bridge the gap between them. “What for?”

“Maybe for stealing my candy. Or,” he smirked once more, “perhaps for getting jealous when there’s no reason to be. If you liked me, you could have just said so. But no... you had to keep teasing, taunting, being a cheeky little one, didn’t you?”

The corners of MC’s lips twitched as they tried to hide their smile and hold in a laugh; he knew it was because of his tone of voice—they always described it as ‘a dad trying to be sexy’ and they definitely let their opinion be known-- but he didn’t care. He was on a mission now, to make a point. A statement. A mission to get what he wanted now that he knew all of their teasing was genuine; a mission to get a taste of the thing so sinfully sweet.

“An apology, MC. Don’t I get one?”

They licked their lips slightly, just barely grazing his own and gave him a smirk evil enough to send small chills down his spine.

“I’m sorry...” they whispered, “that you were kind of dense--”

That set him off. He moved his hands from their face to the back of their head, pulling them the short distance to his lips and kissed them roughly. He was taken back—only for a moment—when they kissed back with just enough force, though their touch was gentle when they held onto his arms. It was his turn to tease them, to taunt them, to make them want him so bad they could just never get enough; his turn to show them just what they do to him on the daily. Over and over again, he parted just to come back to them with more desire, more need, more passion.

He tried to part their lips with his tongue, almost pathetically begging to be let in only for them to deny with a light-hearted giggle. Pulling away just enough to bite down on their lip, he slipped it in as they gasped; he could feel them try to smile as his tongue explored their mouth, mentally mapping anything he could. Even with his tongue in their mouth, they had to be stubborn and mess with him, now teasing him with their own so that he’d give in and fight for dominance.

When he won, he drew his hands back down to their face, gently caressing their jaw for a moment before pulling away from them completely, playing it off as though he were aloof to what he had just done. Ignoring the love-struck look on their face, the flushed look of their skin and just how swollen their lips had become--alright, he did take a small peek—he spun around in his chair, picking up the earlier discarded paper and kept the back of his chair towards them.

“Hmm,” he hummed, eyes completely unfocused on the paper, “I suppose that apology will work.”

Lucifer gave a genuine smile when he felt MC’s arms wrap around his neck, their lips eagerly falling just at the corner of his lips. He tossed the paper aside once again and spun around once again, grabbing a hold of their hips to pull them close.

“I guess a little sweet now and again wouldn’t be so bad as long as I steal it from you.”

#obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me drabbles #om! lucifer #obey me! lucifer #obey me lucifer #obey me! drabbles #obey me writing #om!#obey me: shall we date #swd obey me #satans bookmark

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calumcest · 4 years ago

Text

couldn’t make it more obvious could you (be any more obvious)?

this is my birthday present for the wonderful brilliant @clumsyclifford i don’t wanna get too emo in the a/ns especially because i just wrote an incredibly long a/n out and then accidentally deleted it still slyly fuming about that but anyway enough about my technological incompetence i love you so much you deserve the entire world and i’m sorry this is all i can give you of it i’m so grateful i know you and so honoured to have you in my life loving you truly is a privilege i adore you and i hope you have the best birthday you can possibly have also can you BELIEVE i found vegas lyrics that i haven’t used for a fic title yet this is the EIGHTH fic i’ve ever written named after lyrics from vegas THE EIGHTH

(also i have to give a cheeky thank you to @kaleidoscopeminds for listening to me scream about this tonight and watching me slowly spiral while listening to right here right now by fatboy slim on repeat for like an hour straight ily meg you do gods work you truly do)

It all starts by accident.

They’re in Paris, or maybe Rome, or maybe Budapest, when Luke decides the bad mood Michael’s been in all day will be greatly improved by him tossing an opinion about Red Rock chips into the mix. Calum and Ashton both groan loudly as soon as he’s said it, knowing what’s coming, and Michael’s head snaps up from where he’s been scowling at his phone in the corner, eyes already narrowed, finally getting the fight he’s been spoiling for all day.

“Are you fucking serious?” he demands. “Sea salt is better than sweet chilli?”

“Well, yeah,” Luke says, with a shrug, like he hasn’t noticed the way Michael’s brow has furrowed, or the glower he’s sending Luke’s way. “It’s the simplicity, y’know?”

“The simplicity?” Michael echoes incredulously. “The simplicity?” He stares at Luke for a moment, righteous anger etched on his face, and then turns back to his phone, and starts typing something furiously.

“What’re you doing?” Calum asks, a little warily. Michael, a bad mood, Luke riling him up and the internet are usually a bad combination.

“Adding to my list of reasons I hate Luke,” Michael says, and Calum’s face clears, and he nods. Luke frowns.

“What d’you mean, your list of reasons you hate me?” he says, like he’s not sure whether he should feel offended or upset. “You have a list?”

“You don’t?” Ashton asks, sounding a little surprised. Luke stares at him.

“Why the fuck would I have a list of reasons I hate myself?” he asks. Ashton shrugs.

“It’s good to be self-aware,” he tells Luke, who stares at him for a moment, looking torn between indignation and disbelief, before rounding on Michael

“What’s on your list?” he demands.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s my list. Keep your own.” Luke opens his mouth, brow furrowed, ready to make some kind of furious retort, but Ashton gets in before he can succeed in his mission to piss Michael off further.

“D’you want to hear mine?” he offers mildly. “Yours is the shortest of my lists.”

“You have lists on all of us?” Calum says, and Ashton nods. Calum just hums, mulling it over. It’s fair enough, really. He’s only got one on Luke, because the things that annoy him about Ashton are so few and far between that they don’t warrant a list and the things that annoy him about Michael are so well-worn that they’re imprinted in the very fabric of his soul. Michael, though, whips around to face Ashton at that, with a deep scowl.

“What the fuck?” he demands hotly, and puts his phone down. Calum eyes it in trepidation, knowing that if Michael’s freeing both hands up to gesticulate, he’s going to fucking mean what he says next. Sure enough, both hands come flying up in indignation as he says: “You have a list of reasons you hate me?”

“You have a list of reasons you hate Luke,” Ashton points out.

“Yeah, but who doesn’t?” Michel says, waving a hand dismissively.

“Me?” Luke says, a little stroppily, but Michael’s not listening.

“What’s on your list?” he wants to know.

“I’m not telling you.”

“You offered to tell Luke his,” Michael points out.

“You’re not Luke.”

“How many lists do you have?” Calum asks curiously.

“One on you, one on Luke, two on Michael-” Ashton starts reciting, cut off by a noise of indignance from Michael.

“Two?” he says. “Why the fuck would you need two?”

“You’re really fucking annoying,” Ashton tells him, and Calum groans when Michael’s eyebrows knit together further and his mouth twists in an angry grimace.

“Why’d you say that?” Calum says to Ashton, gesturing at Michael. “He was pissed off enough already.”

“Luke started it,” Ashton says, and both of them turn to Luke, who crosses his arms sullenly.

“You’re the ones who keep lists of reasons you hate me,” he says sulkily, like that’s at all relevant to the fact he’s just made certain that the next two days of their life stuck in a cramped tour bus with Michael will be hell.

“I can’t believe you don’t have a list,” Ashton says, shaking his head.

“Why the fuck would I have a list?” Luke says, a little upset. “I love you guys.” There’s a pause, and they all look at him. “Well-” he starts to amend, and Michael lets out a triumphant noise and sits back against the sofa again.

“See?” he says, a victorious edge to his voice.

“Maybe we should go to relationship counselling,” Ashton suggests.

“We don’t need relationship counselling,” Luke says. “You guys just need to stop being dicks.”

“You just need to stop being fucking annoying,” Michael says, pointing at Luke with one hand as he picks up his phone again with the other. “Then there wouldn’t be any need for the lists.”

“What about Ashton’s other lists?” Calum points out, and then immediately regrets it when Michael’s eyes flash with irritation again.

“It’s healthy,” Ashton objects.

“Healthy?” Michael echoes in disbelief. “It’s healthy to keep a list of reasons you hate me?”

“What about me?” Luke protests, but nobody’s listening.

“Two lists,” Ashton corrects, and Calum pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s going to have a word with him about tact. “I bet everyone in a band does it.”

“I don’t,” Luke says pointedly.

“Well, maybe that’s why you’re not a well-adjusted individual,” Ashton says, with a shrug, and Luke stares at him.

“Are you trying to tell me Michael’s well-adjusted?” he says.

“What the fuck?” Michael starts indignantly, but then there’s a loud cough from someone that’s none of them, and they all start in surprise, whipping around to try and find the source.

“Mike?” the voice says into the silence, sounding a little far away and tinny. “Did you mean to call me?” Michael looks down at the phone in his hand in bewilderment, frowning at it for a split second before lifting it to his ear.

“Alex?” he says, a little perplexed. The rest of them all look at him, waiting as his eyebrows furrow further for a moment before his face clears. “Oh.”

“What?” Luke wants to know. Michael shoots him a glare, and points at the phone in his hand, mouthing I’m on the phone dramatically. Calum rolls his eyes.

“It’s only Alex,” he says. Michael raises his eyebrows. Only Alex? he’s saying, and Calum sighs, exasperated, because Michael knows full well what he means, he’s just being difficult. Maybe Ashton has the right idea, keeping a list about Michael.

“Put him on speaker,” Ashton says, and Michael flaps a hand at him and shakes his head, listening to whatever Alex is saying. “Put him on speaker, Mike,” Ashton says again, a little more insistently. Michael throws him a glare too.

“No,” he hisses. “He called me, not any of you.”

“He only has one phone,” Calum points out.

“He could have started a group call,” Ashton says fairly. “And anyway, he said Michael called him.”

“Whose fucking side are you on?” Luke says, and Ashton holds his hands up in defence, leaning back a little in his seat. Calum makes a mental note to add learn when the appropriate moment to be diplomatic is to the conversation he’s going to have with Ashton later.

“What?” Michael says suddenly, eyes darting to the wall opposite him. He listens for a second as Alex speaks, and then makes a noise of triumph, a smile spreading across his face. “Hang on, hang on, let me put you on speaker.”

“Are you serious?” Luke says in disbelief, as Michael tears the phone from his ear and presses the speaker button.

“Say that again,” Michael says to Alex.

“Michael’s right,” Alex says, a little tinny and edged with static. “It’s bad practice to keep lists of things you hate about all your band members. You’ve each got to pick one.”

“How’s that make any sense?” Luke demands, at the same time that Calum says: “Who’s yours about, then?” and Ashton hums thoughtfully.

“Mine’s on Rian,” Alex says.

“Why?” Calum can’t help but ask. He’s not sure why anyone would keep a list on Rian, least of all when Jack’s right there.

“He needed an ego check,” Alex says.

“An ego check?” Calum echoes. “What does Rian-”

“That’s not important,” Michael interrupts, before Calum has a chance to ask what’s on the list, waving his hand dismissively, because the fucker can’t stand going more than thirty seconds without everyone’s attention on him. “The point is I’m right.”

“This time,” Alex says, and the triumphant smile on Michael’s face turns into an indignant scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean, this time?” he demands hotly, and Calum snorts. Serves him right, really.

“See?” Luke says, sounding incredibly satisfied. Michael glowers at him.

“He still said I was right, though,” he says.

“Conditionally,” Ashton says, and Michael whips around to glower at him too.

“You guys should try relationship counselling,” Alex remarks, and it’s Ashton’s turn to sit back and raise his eyebrows pointedly, looking pleased. Calum feels a bit left out, now; he’s the only one that hasn’t had his moment of triumph. “Anyway, I’ve got to go and stop Jack.”

“Why, what’s he doing?” Calum asks curiously.

“No idea, but I bet he needs stopping. Hey, text me when you’re in the States, yeah?” And with that, he’s gone.

The four of them stare at Michael’s phone for a moment, before Michael sits back and stretches.

“I’m right,” he tells them, just in case they hadn’t heard. Luke scoffs.

“So, what, Alex’s word is law, now?” he says. There’s a moment of silence. “Alright, yeah,” Luke relents, and Calum snorts.

“At least we know how to sort any arguments, now,” he says. “Ring Alex.”

“Y’know, in a way, that’s sort of like relationship counselling,” Ashton says thoughtfully, and Luke sighs, loud and exasperated, and Calum and Michael both chorus: “Shut the fuck up, Ashton.”

-------

It becomes a thing after that.

When Luke and Michel can’t agree on which of MarioKart Wii or MarioKart 8 is the better game, they call Alex.

(“Obviously MarioKart Wii,” Alex says, sounding almost offended that the question’s even been asked.

“What d’you mean, obviously?” Michael says, outraged.

“When was the last time you played MarioKart 8?” Alex asks pointedly, and Michael opens his mouth furiously, and then stops, and closes it again.

“It’s still a better fucking game,” he mutters, and Luke grins.)

When the four of them can’t decide whether they should get takeaway McDonald’s or go out to eat at a proper restaurant, they call Alex.

(“Well, this is easy,” Alex says. The four of them frown. How the fuck is this easy? They’ve been arguing about it for twenty minutes.

“How?” Luke says.

“Who’s paying for Luke if you go out?” The four of them look at each other. They’ll split the bill, surely?

“Well, I thought one person would-” Luke starts, a little defensively, which is all they need to hear.

“McDonald’s,” Michael, Calum and Ashton say decisively.)

When Ashton and Calum argue about whether or not Ashton functions well on four hours’ sleep, they call Alex.

(“How long did you sleep last night?” Alex asks, after humming, like he’s having to think this one through.

“Four fucking hours, Jesus Christ,” Ashton snaps. Calum throws him a pointed look.

“Y’know what, you don’t even need me for this one,” Alex says delicately, and hangs up.)

Alex always has an answer for them.

“Why the fuck aren’t you in this band?” Ashton laments one night, when Alex has successfully convinced Calum to go on his third night out in a row, and on an empty stomach, no less. Alex laughs, bright and easy.

“I can’t leave Jack on his own for more than fifteen minutes,” he says. “Contractual obligation.”

“What d’you do when he’s asleep?” Ashton wonders.

“What d’you think?” Alex says, words curled around a coy smile. Calum frowns, and opens his mouth to say something - what, he’s not entirely sure; are you implying sleep with, or sleep with? maybe - but then there’s a crash, and Alex swears loudly. “Shit. See, it’s been seventeen minutes. I’ll send the bill for whatever that was over to your management.”

“Send it to Luke instead,” Calum says. “We shouted him at least six rounds last night.” Alex laughs again.

“Got it,” he says, and then he’s gone. Calum’s frown doesn’t go with him, though.

“D’you think he was being serious?” he asks Ashton, who’s already engrossed in his phone again.

“Hm?” Ashton says, without looking up. “‘Bout what?”

“Jack.” That makes Ashton look up, brow furrowed.

“What about him?” Calum hesitates.

“Y’know,” he says, a little uncomfortably. Ashton cocks his head, raising his eyebrows in an I don’t know sort of way. “About them. Sleeping together.”

“Oh,” Ashton says, shrugs, and turns back to his phone. “Yeah, obviously.” That’s all he seems to have to say on the matter, and Calum decides not to push it. Even if he’d wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to, because right then Luke wanders into the lounge area, frowning at his phone.

“Hey,” he says. “Why the fuck has Alex just sent me a bill for a new drum kit?”

-------

Alex doesn’t mention it again, but Calum can’t stop thinking about it.

He’d said it so casually, so easily, a lick of wicked humour to it. What do you do when Jack’s asleep? Calum had asked. What do you think? Alex had said, like it was nothing. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just a joke. Ashton hadn’t seemed to think anything of it, had he? Maybe Calum was just reading into it. Yeah, that was it, surely; Calum was probably just protecting. It’s not like everyone’s in love with their childhood best friend that they happen to be in a band with, is it? God knows Calum’s shared a bed with Luke and Ashton enough times without wanting to fuck them.

(He’d never get that coy edge to his voice, though, if he were talking about Luke or Ashton.)

He manages to push the matter to one side for a few weeks, until one day when he and Luke are arguing about whether the lyrics to Some Kind of Disaster are ‘I let the sun rise up’ or ‘I let the song rise up’, and they ring Alex, but Jack picks up.

“What’s up?” Jack says casually, like it’s perfectly normal for him to answer Alex’s phone.

“Where’s Alex?” Calum says.

“Hello to you too,” Jack says.

“It’s important,” Luke adds, leaning over the phone like it’s not on speaker. Jesus Christ. Calum wonders whether the boy was born in ‘96 or ‘56, sometimes.

“You don’t need to lean over it, Luke,” Calum tells him, wrenching the phone away. “He can hear you.”

“I’m just making sure,” Luke says, scowling.

“What d’you want Alex for?” Jack asks.

“To decide something for us,” Calum says.

“Oh,” Jack says, brightening. “I can do that. I make great decisions.” There’s a pause.

“Yeah, no,” Calum says, and Luke says: “Just give us Alex.”

“Fuck you two,” Jack mutters, but there’s a rustling sound and then the sound of footsteps. Calum and Luke both wait, listening to a door open and close quietly, and then they hear a soft: “Hey, baby, wake up.”

Baby?

Calum’s head jerks up to look at Luke, who’s still staring patiently down at Calum’s phone, like he hasn’t just heard Jack call Alex baby. Maybe he hasn’t. Is Calum hallucinating? Shit, he doesn’t have time for a mental breakdown; they’re playing a show in three hours, and they’re supposed to start recording their next album soon.

“Mm,” Calum hears Alex groan. “Wh’s’it?”

“Cal and Luke,” Jack says.

“Tell ‘m to fuck off,” Alex mumbles, and there’s more rustling. “Come t’ bed.” Come to bed? Calum shoots Luke another glance, but he’s still just waiting for Alex to say something. Maybe Calum is going insane. Maybe he should’ve listened to Ashton about that whole seven-to-nine-hours-sleep thing.

“I’m cooking,” Jack says, and his voice is gentler than Calum’s ever heard it, edged with a smile. Alex makes a noise of discontent, then a deep sigh, and then there’s some very loud static as he raises the phone to his ear.

“What?” he says, sounding simultaneously sleepy and annoyed.

“Some Kind of Disaster,” Luke says, getting straight to the point. “Is it ‘I let the sun rise up’ or ‘song’?” There’s a pause.

“I don’t know,” Alex says, through a yawn.

“What d’you mean, you don’t know?” Luke demands. “It’s your fucking song.”

“It’s both,” Alex says. “It was sun, and then I changed it to song.”

“So it’s song?” Calum says, because that’s what he’s been arguing.

“Well, it’s sun too,” Alex says.

“Well, it’s not,” Calum says, “because you can only sing one of them at a time.”

“Exactly,” Luke agrees. “So which one is it?” Alex sighs, all long-suffering, and there’s a shuffling sound, like he’s sitting up in bed.

“You’re both right,” he says. Calum and Luke exchange a look. They’re not really sure what to do in this situation.

“But on the album version-” Luke starts, and Alex makes a noise of exasperation.

“Fucking hell, I sang ‘song’ on the album,” he says, and Calum sits back triumphantly and throws his hands up in a see, I told you gesture, forgetting that he’s got his phone in his hand and sending it flying. Luckily, it doesn’t go far, lands somewhere on the sofa to their right, and Luke reaches over, inspects it quickly and dusts it off before handing it back to Calum, who inspects it again, because Luke’s managed to get through three phones in the past year alone, so he’s clearly not a trustworthy source when it comes to phone maintenance. It doesn't look scratched, though, but when he lifts it back up to his face to apologise to Alex for the disturbance, it’s on the home screen, and Alex is gone.

“If ‘sun’ was the original, though, I think that’s the right answer,” Luke says, and Calum shakes his head as he pockets his phone again.

“You heard him,” he says, letting the vindication leak into his voice, because Luke had been making fun of him for at least fifteen minutes before they’d called Alex. “The final version’s ‘song’.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Did you hear him and Jack?” Calum cuts in, not wanting to get caught in another argument when they’ve just settled it.

“What about them?”

“Well, did you hear them?” Luke stares at him.

“Yeah?” he says, like he doesn’t quite understand the question. Calum stares back. Surely he hadn’t misheard what they’d said, not twice. Baby, Jack had said, and Alex had asked him in a sleepy, needy voice to come to bed.

“Well?” he asks. Luke blinks at him.

“Look, I know I said I thought I had tinnitus, but that was on a bad day after Michael had been yelling in my ear all day-” he starts, but Calum shakes his head, a little impatiently.

“Jack called Alex ‘baby’,” he says. Luke frowns.

“Yeah?” Yeah? Yeah? What the fuck? Is Calum abnormal for not going around calling his bandmates ‘baby’?

“So, is that, like, a Baltimore thing?” Calum asks, as casually as possible. There’s a pause.

“Is...having a boyfriend a Baltimore thing...?” Luke says slowly, and Calum frowns right back at him.

“A boyfriend?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Cal?” Luke says, brows now so closely knit that he sort of looks like he has a unibrow.

“What are you talking about?” Calum asks, because Luke’s the one that suddenly brought up boyfriends and is now acting like Calum’s the idiot in this conversation. “What have boyfriends got to do with this?” Luke looks at him for a moment, like he can’t tell whether Calum’s being serious or not, and Calum raises his eyebrows in a what? sort of way.

“Cal,” Luke says slowly, like he’s still not entirely sure whether Calum’s taking the piss or not. “You...you know Jack and Alex are together, right?” Calum stares at him.

“They’re what?” he says.

“Are you being serious?” Luke asks, frowning.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“They’ve been together for years, Cal.” Calum blinks.

“How the fuck didn’t I-” he starts, somewhere between shocked and affronted that everyone seems to have known except him.

“I have no idea,” Luke says, sounding completely bewildered. “Jesus Christ, Cal.”

That pretty much sums it up.

-------

That night, Calum can’t stop thinking about it.

He stares up at the ceiling of his bunk, hands clasped over his chest, and replays memories of interactions with Jack and Alex, memories of them grinning fondly at each other when someone told a joke, of them stood off to the side at a party, Alex’s hand resting gently on Jack’s elbow as he stood far too close for comfort and told him something with an earnest expression on his face, of them declining nights out because they ‘want to rest, guys, we’re getting old - or at least Alex is’ and Rian and Zack exchanging a look and wordlessly going to secure their bunks. Calum had just thought it was because they didn’t trust Alex and Jack not to fuck around if left unsupervised, but maybe there was another reason, the reason everyone else snorted or smirked when Rian and Zack stood up and raced to their bunks.

It feels like something slotting into place when he thinks about it. Of course Alex and Jack are together; how could he have ever thought any different? How could he have thought those fond looks and gentle touches, those private smiles and shared frowns, those lazily tangled fingers and open-mouthed kisses ever meant anything else?

He knows why. Because he and Michael do all those things too.

But it’s not the same, right? Or, well, it might be from Calum, but it can’t be from Michael. Michael probably just thinks they’re friendly gestures, too. The two of them have been so intertwined with one another for so long that they’ve forgotten how to live apart, how to exist without the other’s touch, and that’s all it can be to Michael. Maybe Michael doesn’t even know about Jack and Alex. He probably wouldn’t act like he does with Calum if he knew it could be misinterpreted like that.

Yeah, Calum thinks, rolling on his side and folding his arms, staring at the wall instead of the ceiling, and trying to let the white noise of the bus calm his churning stomach and slow his racing heart. That’s what it is. Michael doesn’t know. He can’t.

-------

A few weeks later, Calum and Michael are sat on a pier in England while the bus gets serviced, legs dangling off the edge as they smoke in silence. It’s quiet here, nothing but the sound of the waves and the wind (and the odd screeching seagull), and Calum lets it wash over him with every drag of his cigarette, letting it go with every exhale.

“We shouldn’t be smoking so close to a show,” Michael murmurs, and then immediately proceeds to take another drag of his cigarette. Calum raises an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs. “What? It’s already lit. Shouldn’t waste it.” Calum huffs out a laugh, rolls his eyes, and exhales his own cloud of smoke, watching as it curls upwards and disperses to join the clouds above them.

“You shouldn’t be smoking at all,” he tells Michael, because Calum’s a lost cause, but there’s still hope for Michael.

“You shouldn’t be giving me cigarettes, then,” Michael retorts, which is fair enough.

“I won’t next time,” Calum says, which is a flat-out lie. They both know Calum would give Michael the world, and the stars and moon and sun too, if he wanted them.

They smoke in silence for a while, and Calum watches as his clouds of smoke mingle with Michael’s as they tip their heads back and breathe up at the sky, and thinks there’s maybe some kind of symbolism in it that he can’t quite make out through the grey haze. Ashton would know, would say something like it means your mothers are twin flames with a dead straight face and mean it, and Calum would catch Michael’s eye over the top of Ashton’s head and share a quick look with him, something so brief that Ashton wouldn’t even notice it, something only Michael and Calum would know about. He’s seen Jack and Alex do the same thing hundreds of times when Luke’s made a stupid comment, or when Rian’s giving them a lecture about not pulling pranks on the tour bus that everybody has to share, or when they’ve passed a stranger on the street that had been wearing something crazy.

“Did you know Jack and Alex are together?” he blurts, before he’s had the time to process the thought and stop it in its tracks on its way to his tongue. Michael throws him an odd look.

“Yeah,” he says, as though Calum’s just asked did you know my name’s Calum?

“Oh,” Calum says.

“Why?”

“I didn’t.” Michael stares at him.

“How the fuck-”

“I don’t know,” Calum says quickly - too quickly, because Michael stops, looks, narrows his eyes, gaze flicking from Calum’s eyes to his lips and back again, and then opens his mouth.

“You thought they were just friends?” he says slowly. Calum shrugs, a little uncomfortably, and stubs his cigarette out on the pier just for something to look at that isn’t Michael. “You think friends just- just, what, look at each other like that?”

“Well, to be fair-” Calum starts, a touch defensively, but Michael interrupts.

“Or, or, what, hold hands and make out?” he says.

“We hold hands and make out,” Calum points out.

“Exactly,” Michael says. There’s a pause.

“What?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Michael says. “Friends don’t do that.” Calum frowns.

“...but best friends do?” Michael throws him a strange look.

“What?” he says. “No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. My only other best friends are Ashton and Luke, and I’d rather make out with a pig than either of them.” Calum pulls a face.

“That’s illegal,” he says.

“Well, I didn’t say I was going to,” Michael says, exasperated, like Calum’s derailing the conversation. “The point is, friends don’t do that.” Calum looks at him for a moment, looks at the certainty in Michael’s eyes, and then looks out at the sea, stomach matching the tidal current.

He doesn’t get it. Michael and Calum are friends, he knows they are, knows it from the way Michael snuggles into Calum’s chest as soon as he spots him lying or sitting anywhere with a space next to him, from the way Michael stays up all night rubbing soothing circles on Calum’s back while he throws up everything he’d drunk on the empty stomach Ashton had convinced him to go out on, from the way they laugh and joke and cry and hold each other, foreheads pressed together, or sometimes cheek-to-cheek, or sometimes Michael’s face pressed into Calum’s throat. Michael loves Calum, and Calum loves Michael, and Calum’s entire system of faith is built around that. It all starts with Michael, and Calum and Michael, and builds out from there.

So why is Michael saying friends don’t act like they do?

Sure, Calum only holds Luke’s hand as a joke, or when he’s in his darkest moments, and only kisses Ashton chastely on the lips, and usually only when he’s drunk, nothing like the casual and easy hand-holding and the kisses with tender hands cupping each other’s jaws or with fingers curled lightly in each other’s hair he has with Michael, but it’s still friendly, isn’t it? It’s what he and Michael have always done, finding respite in each other, building a home in each other’s hearts and hands and mouths. That’s just how they are, Calum’s always thought, when Michael’s slotted his fingers between Calum’s confidently, like they were made to be there. That’s just how things are with them. But they’re still just friends, aren’t they? It’s not like Calum fucks Michael, or anything. They both go out and get laid, come back to their shared hotel room smelling like girls and boys neither of them will ever see again. But, Calum thinks, when he stumbles into their hotel room at God knows what time in the morning and falls into bed next to Michael, he’s the one that’ll press soft kisses to the bruises already blossoming on Calum’s throat. And maybe that’s what it’s about.

“But we do that,” he says again, trying to understand what Michael’s saying.

“Yeah, I know,” Michael says, sounding a little annoyed now, like Calum’s being wilfully ignorant. “What’s your point?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” There’s a pause.

“Oh,” Michael says, and it sounds small, and hurt, and raw. “Is- oh.”

“Is what?” Calum tears his eyes away from the sea, looks over at Michael, who’s hunched into himself a little, shoulders sagging and knees drawn close to his chest. He shakes his head, but doesn’t look at Calum, and Calum’s heart lurches. He’s fucked up. He said something wrong.

“Hey,” he says gently, and reaches over to put a hand on Michael’s arm, but Michael flinches away. Calum frowns. “What’s up?”

“I just-” Michael cuts himself off, shakes his head again, and stands up abruptly.

“I’m going back,” he says shortly.

“Okay,” Calum says, and makes to get to his feet too, but Michael stops him.

“No,” he says. “I- you stay here.”

Oh.

Okay.

“Okay,” Calum says, and he can’t help the bit of upset that leaks into his voice at that. Michael looks like he’s torn for a minute, like maybe he wants to stay, but then he balls his hands into fists at his side and walks off, fast and stiff. Calum watches him go until he’s all the way off the pier, until he’s turned past the shop at the corner and is heading back up the hill to where they’d left the tour bus, and then, when he’s blocked by a row of houses, turns back to the sea. It looks greyer than before, but Calum doesn’t mind. It means he won’t have to see the smoke curling up into the sky without another cloud to join it as he smokes the rest of his pack.

-------

Michael’s not on the bus when Calum gets back, and, surprisingly, neither are Luke or Ashton.

There’s a note on the table that says gone w/mike, wtf did u do, burn this before we get back in Luke’s hasty scribble, and Calum’s stomach drops as he picks it up and reads and re-reads it. What the fuck did he do?

He heads back out of the bus with the note clenched in his fist, both to burn it without setting the fire alarm off and because the bus feels oddly claustrophobic on his own, too many floors and ceilings and walls and reminders of Michael plastered all over them. The fresh air feels a little calming, even though he’s just come in from outside, and he lets the breeze steal over his face as he gets his lighter to the paper and watches it burn itself out in his hand.

All he’d said was we’re friends, aren’t we? He doesn’t understand why Michael’s taken such offence to that, like he doesn’t crawl into Calum’s bunk three times a day and demand to be told he’s Calum’s best friend. Maybe it was because Calum had only said friend that time, not best friend. Michael can be oddly sensitive about these things; Calum remembers a time that he’d told Ashton he was in love with him with a completely sincere expression on his face because Ashton had made him a coffee in the morning, and Michael had stormed out of the room and spent the next three days steadfastly keeping his hands to himself around Calum, no heads on shoulders or in laps.

But he’d said it all of two minutes earlier, hadn’t he, and even Michael’s not stroppy enough to get that fussed about wording, so that doesn’t make any sense. And he can’t be upset about the hand-holding and kissing itself, can he, or he’d’ve stopped doing it by now. So it’s got to be something to do with the fact that Calum had been confused about the fact that they did what Jack and Alex do, but that they’re friends, and not boyf-

Oh.

But surely not. Surely-

Calum racks his brains, heart racing, palms sweating, trying to come up with some other explanation for the hurt etched on Michael’s features, the anguish in his eyes, the way he’d stood up so abruptly and stiffly with his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands, but there’s nothing.

All he can think, echoing loudly in his mind, is that maybe Michael thought they were- well, not quite boyfriends, but not quite friends, either.

The thought bounces around Calum’s head like it’s trying to find a way out but is trapped in a panicked bubble of Michael and shit and no no no that won’t let it escape. Calum’s breath is coming in short, sharp bursts, and he leans back against the bus, staring unblinkingly at the sky as he tries to wrap his head around what’s just crossed his mind. Fuck. Fuck. Maybe it had meant something to Michael, too. Shit, of course it meant something to Michael, what the fuck was Calum thinking? Of course it did, because it meant something to Calum. Calum never kissed Luke like that, or let Ashton hold his hand until it was slick with sweat on a hot summer night, and neither did Michael, so of course it meant something to him too. God, Calum’s an idiot, so fucking stupid; of course it meant something to Michael. And Calum’s just thrown it in his face.

He’s fumbling for his phone before he’s even really processed the desire to do so, stabbing at the last number he’d dialled and muttering c’mon, c’mon while he waits for Alex to pick up. He does, on the third ring, making the dial tone cut out with a click when he raises the phone to his ear and says tiredly: “Who’re you fighting with this time?”

“Alex,” Calum says, and he hears the desperation and confusion in his own voice.

“Shit, Cal, what’s up?” Alex says, suddenly alert and serious. “You okay?” Calum almost laughs. No, he’s not fucking okay, because he’s just fucked something up that he’s always wanted and didn’t even know he already had.

“No,” he says, feeling a little hysterical. “I- it’s- I was with Michael, and-”

“Oh, shit,” Alex says. “You haven’t- like, did you break up, or-”

“What?” Calum says. “No, we- what? We’re not together, Alex, but we-”

“What?” Alex says, in disbelief. “What d’you mean, you’re not together?”

“I mean we’re not together, but-”

“Yeah, but that’s what I’m not getting,” Alex interrupts. “How are you not together? Physically? Like, right now?”

“What?” This phone call was a mistake. Calum’s even more confused than he had been at the start. “No, we’re just- we’re not together, we’re single, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“What?” Alex sounds absolutely dumbfounded. “I- what? Wait, okay, no, sorry, you were saying?”

“I think that’s the problem,” Calum says. “I- we were talking, about you and Jack, because I didn’t realise you were together, and-”

“You-” Alex stops himself. “Never mind, never mind, carry on.”

“-and I just said I didn’t realise you were together because me and him do all the same things that you two do, and we’re friends, and he got upset and left.” He’s expecting another interruption, or at the very least an immediate rushed sentence, but instead all he gets is a long, long silence.

“Oh, Cal,” Alex says eventually, exhaling heavily. It makes Calum wince, far too loud in his ear. “You fucked up.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Calum says. “I just- I don’t know what to do now.”

“Just tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

“That you didn’t realise. That you mean it. All of it.”

“I can’t,” Calum says. “He’s gone. Ashton and Luke, too.”

“Gone?” Alex sounds horrified. “Where? Aren’t you on tour? How are you going to finish-”

“No, like, just gone out,” Calum says hurriedly, although his stomach drops at the prospect. Surely he hasn’t gone. Luke and Ashton wouldn’t have left with him, would they, wouldn’t have left Calum to try and perform some kind of one-man She Looks So Perfect with his bass slung over one knee, guitar over the other, sat at the drums with a mic in front of him. Or would they? Calum feels like he can’t be certain of anything anymore, not when the one constant in his life has been tipped on its head, his world tilted sharply around on its axis.

“Oh,” Alex says, sounding distinctly relieved. “Well, just call him, then.” Oh. Yeah. That would probably have been the best first port of call, rather than ringing Alex.

“I don’t know what to say,” Calum says, a little desperately, and hopes Alex will hear what he’s really asking. Tell me what to say.

“I can’t help you with that, Cal,” Alex says gently. “It’s gotta come from you, man.” Calum knows he’s right, knows it has to be what Calum thinks and what Calum feels, but it doesn’t stop his stomach flipping unpleasantly as he thinks about it.

“Fuck,” he mutters, inhales deeply, and closes his eyes.

“Hey,” Alex says, kind and warm. “It’ll be alright.” Calum huffs out a humourless laugh at that.

“Will it?” he says. It’s not like him; he’s usually the calm one, the rational one, the one who says yeah, man, it sucks and then shrugs and takes another swig of his beer because what good’s worrying about it going to do? This is different, though, the core tenet of his world shifted off-kilter, panic blooming in his lungs as scenes of a life without Michael flash through his mind. He’d challenge anyone to remain calm in the face of a life without Michael.

“‘Course it will,” Alex says, sounding far more confident than Calum feels. “It’s you and Michael, isn’t it? It’ll always be okay.” That soothes Calum a bit, that Alex has so much blind faith in the two of them. He wouldn’t say that unless he meant it, and he wouldn’t mean it if he didn’t believe it, so there’s still someone out there who has trust in them.

“Okay,” Calum says, more trying to convince himself than anything else. “I’ll call him.”

“Okay,” Alex says, still in that gentle, kind voice that Calum’s sure he reserves for small children, animals and Calum in a crisis. “I’ll stay by my phone in case you need me, yeah?” Calum loves him.

“Thanks,” he says, and Alex murmurs a no problem back at him. Calum hesitates for one more second, savouring the last moment of the safety of knowing he’s not on his own out here in the chilly English town that he can’t remember the name of, and then hangs up and scrolls down his recently contacted list to find Michael. His heart’s in his mouth as his sweaty fingers press on the contact, and he brings the phone back up to his ear. It rings once, twice, three times, and then-

“Cal?” It’s not Michael. It’s Ashton.

“Where’s Mike?” He can hear the urgency in his own voice, but doesn’t even have the time to care. All that’s going through his mind is I’ve hurt him and I might lose him.

“He’s here,” Ashton says slowly, delicately, like he knows the next words are going to hurt, “but he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

(They do.)

“Please,” Calum says, a little desperately. “I- I honestly didn’t realise, okay, and I need to tell him, and-”

“Woah, woah, hey,” Ashton sys, and Calum can picture him frowning, concern etched into the lines in his forehead. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t mean to, like, friendzone him, or whatever, I just didn’t think it meant to him what it means to me, and-”

“Hey,” Ashton says again, and Calum falters. “Breathe, Cal.”

“‘M breathing.”

“Breathe slower.”

“Just let me fucking talk to Mi-”

“Breathe.” There’s a pause.

“Shut the fuck up, Ashton,” Calum says fiercely, “and fucking let me speak to Michael.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Ashton says, a little apologetically.

“Can I- shit, okay. Can you just tell him something from me, then?”

“What?” That’s a good question. He’s not entirely sure what sums all of it up. I’m sorry doesn’t quite cut it, doesn’t make it clear enough that Calum’s sorry for misinterpreting, not that he’s sorry that he doesn’t feel the same way. I love you is the same; it’s not clear enough, not without the stricken expression on Calum’s face and the distraught look that he’s sure is in his eyes. He needs something that works only through words, that won’t get lost in translation somewhere along the phone line or in Ashton.

There is something, something that nudges at the tip of his tongue, a gentle reminder that it’s there, always has been and always will be, but Calum pushes it aside, doesn’t want this to be the first time he says it. There’s got to be something else, something like I need you - no, too selfish - or come back, please - no, too ambiguous, or- shit, no, that’s it, Calum’s all out of ideas.

So, he takes a deep breath, tries to use the cool sea breeze to quell the panic still rising steadily in his lungs, and says it.

“Tell him I’m in love with him.”

He’s expecting it to feel monumental after he’s said it, like a seismic shift will have occurred on Planet Calum, expects a gasp and a dramatic response from Ashton, but all he gets is a feeling of slight fear and an “Alright, sure.”

Is that it? Is that what Calu’s been afraid of all these years? A nonchalant remark from Ashton and a bit of stale fear? Jesus, Calum’s a fucking idiot. If he weren’t so blind, if he weren’t so stubbornly set on forcing things to fit the way he thinks the world is rather than simply letting the world be what it actually is, none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have overlooked Jack and Alex, and he wouldn’t have overlooked him and Michael, and he wouldn’t have waited nearly ten years to say hey, Michael, I’m in love with you.

“Okay,” Calum says, testing the word out on his tongue to see how it feels. Surprisingly good, actually. His stomach’s still churning, and his heart is still clenching with something between panic and despair, but the weight pressing down on his chest is a little less heavy, his lungs a little less constricted. He’s said it, now. It’s up to Michael what to do with the words.

“I’m going to come back,” Ashton says. “I- sorry, Michael was panicking and we didn’t think you’d be-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Calum says hurriedly, because it is. He gets it. Luke and Ashton would spring straight into best-friend mode upon seeing Michael upset and panicking, would take him out and away and calm him down, too preoccupied with the there and then to think about whether Calum might be in a similar state. “Don’t. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Ashton says, but it’s not unkind, and he’s not entirely wrong.

“Just- just...tell him, please?” Calum says, and Ashton exhales, and Calum can imagine him nodding.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, ‘course, Cal. I’ll call you back.” He knows Calum doesn’t want to stick around, doesn’t want to hear what Michael has to say just in case, and Calum’s grateful, loves him for it.

“Love you,” he says, because he does.

“Love you too,” Ashton says, and then there’s a click, and he’s gone.

Calum sinks to a crouch, staring at the houses lining the steep hill opposite him, and then sits down properly, exhaling a little shakily as he does. It’s getting colder, he notices, pulling his coat around him and shivering a little. He thinks the sky might be getting darker, too, or it might just be getting greyer; it’s always hard to tell in England.

His thoughts are racing so fast that he’s barely thinking at all, doesn’t have time to process one before the next one pushes it out of the way, so all he can focus on is the guilt and the panic and the worry blooming in every inch of him and try to quell it, try to think about the cool breeze and the hard metal of the bus pressed against his back and the scratchy gravel under his legs. It’s sort of better this way, though, he thinks, as he lets his eyes flutter shut and tries to think about the sound of the seagulls squawking above him. It’s better that he doesn’t know what’s going through his own mind.

He’s startled out of trying to count his breaths - seven in, eleven out, Ashton always says - by the shrill ringing of his phone, and he jumps, phone slipping out of his fingers and onto the gravel between his legs. It’s cracked when he picks it back up again, but he doesn’t even care as soon as he sees the Michael UK New on his screen, can’t care about anything other than the way his heart’s suddenly jumped to his throat and is beating faster than Calum had thought humanly possible.

“Ashton?” he says, expecting a yeah, listen, mate- but there’s nothing. He just gets silence. “Ash?” he tries again. “Can you hear me? What’d he say?”

“D’you mean that?” It’s not Ashton. It’s Michael, and he sounds completely blank.

“Mike,” Calum says, both relief and fear spiking in his veins. “Mike, I’m sorry, I-”

“D’you mean it?”

“Mean wh- oh,” Calum says. “I- yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Say it.”

“Michael, I just-”

“Say it.” It’s softer this time, less insistent, a little more pleading. Calum swallows. Who is he to say no to Michael?

“I’m in love with you.”

There’s no cosmic shift this time, either. The clouds stay grey and the air stays cool, and Calum can still hear nothing but his own breathing, ragged and echoed down the phone line.

“Okay,” Michael says, carefully even.

“Okay?” Calum echoes, a little incredulously. “I just told you I’m in love with you.” The words don’t get any harder to say as he repeats them, nor any easier; they’re just there, as though they always have been.

“Yeah, I heard.”

“So?” Calum prompts.

“So what?”

“So, are you gonna say anything about it?”

“Yeah.” Calum waits. “Not here,” Michael adds, like he knows what Calum’s thinking, and then it clicks.

Michael’s coming back.

Well, of course Michael was going to come back - they have a tour to finish, don’t they - but he’s coming back for Calum.

“Okay,” Calum says. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll be five minutes.” Michael doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t hang up either, and Calum just stays on the other end of the line, listens as Michael’s breathing speeds up and as shoes hit pavement, letting his heart slow to the beat of Michael’s footsteps. It feels like two seconds and ten years have passed by the time he sees Michael rounding the corner, phone still in his hand, eyes automatically searching for Calum, and then Calum watches his step falter as he sees Calum slumped against the tour bus, sat on the floor.

“Hey,” he says, when he gets close enough, and hangs up.

“Hi,” Calum says, eyes following Michael as he hovers above Calum for a minute, and then sits down next to him. Their arms are pressed together, which is a good sign, but Michael doesn’t hold his hand out for Calum to take, which isn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Calum says, when Michael sits down. “I didn’t- like, I didn’t realise. I didn’t think. I should’ve known you wouldn’t do this with just anyone.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Michael says. “But I should’ve known you wouldn’t know. I should’ve told you.”

“I should’ve told you too,” Calum says. “I should’ve told you years ago.” Michael turns to look at him, a little bewildered, and Calum clarifies: “That I’m in love with you.”

“Oh,” Michael says, and turns away again. “Yeah. I should’ve told you that too.”

“You’re in love with me?” Michael turns to look at him again, a little incredulously.

“What the fuck do you think we’re talking about here?” he says. “‘Course I am.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Calum had sort of known it, as soon as he’d realised. He’d sort of known that it meant there was something soft and warm and cosy thrumming under the surface for Michael too, something that had only taken Calum until the age of seventeen to place as love. It’s different hearing it, though, different when Michael looks at him like he’s an idiot for not realising Michael’s in love with him, like it’s easy and simple and just something that is, no question of whether it should or shouldn’t be.

“I’m sorry I ran off,” Michael says quietly, and now he holds out his hand, and Calum almost wants to sigh in relief, but settles for threading his fingers through Michael’s and squeezing as hard as he can instead.

“Don’t be,” Calum says. He probably would have done the same in Michael’s place.

They sit in silence for a moment, staring out at the grey sky and the sliver of shimmering grey sea in the distance, and Calum counts Michael’s heartbeats as they pass against his fingers, one-two, one-two. The seagulls are still squawking, and the breeze is still cold, and Calum’s still in love with Michael. Nothing’s changed.

“Maybe we should kiss,” Michael suggests suddenly, and Calum turns to look at him, a little confused. “What?” Michael says, a little defensively. “Feels like the natural next step after admitting you’re in love, right?”

“Well, we kissed before we did that,” Calum points out.

“Okay, but we should still kiss now,” Michael says agreeably, and Calum hums.

“Yeah, probably,” he says, and Michael’s lips quirk up in a tiny grin, and Calum’s stomach bottoms out, all the panic and fear and anguish flooding out of him. It’s okay, he thinks, as he grins back and leans in, their heads tilting just the right amount at just the right angle as their lips touch, a well-worn move done by muscle memory, not by thought. Calum’s still smiling as they kiss, and it’s a little awkward, a little uncomfortable, but it’s okay, because it’s Michael. It’s always okay if it’s Michael.

He brings his hand up to cup Michael’s jaw, thumb stroking across the soft skin there, and Michael sighs, a content, happy little noise that goes straight to Calum’s heart, makes him smile back and kiss Michael a little slower, a little sweeter. Of course Michael’s in love with him, he thinks a little giddily, as Michael winds his fingers into the hair at the nape of Calum’s neck and pulls him closer. How could this ever be anything else?

The kiss isn’t new, and neither are the grey sky and the grey sea beyond them, nor the seagulls that circle them, squawking loudly and incessantly. It’s all familiar, known and comfortable, and Calum can’t help but breathe in the scent of the sea as he pulls away and rests his forehead against Michael’s, grinning at the softness - no, the love - in Michael’s eyes.

Nothing has changed.

taglist: @callmeboatboy @sadistmichael @clumsyclifford @angel-cal @tirednotflirting @cthofficial @tigerteeff @haikucal @queer-5sos @i-am-wierd-always @stupidfuckimgspam @bloodyoathcal @pixiegrl @pxrxmoore @clumthood

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#malum #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #ok if you saw this before it got formatted you didnt see it close your eyes #i put right here right now back on while manually backspacing all the line breaks #and meg goes for the love of god stop listening to right here right now its not good for you #looks like its back to oasis for me then its on megs orders #ALSO can you eblieve there is not ONE SINGLE mention of britpop in this fic <3 #it was hard but i did it for bella

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beholdme · 4 years ago

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 11

Chapters: 11/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Jon has a terrible, sinking feeling about what he considers their new Mary Keay problem.

He knows Gerry feels more confident that he can deal with her now, as an adult with his own resources and a solid foundation, but Jon doesn't want her ever walking into their lives again.

He feels the threat of her existence hanging over their hard-won peace like an anvil on a lace string.

"I think we should try to find her," Jon tells Martin one evening when they’re alone in bed. Gerry is downstairs painting, and even though he almost certainly can't hear them, Jon whispers it like a dirty secret.

"You think-" Martin looks up from his book with an almost comically incredulous look on his face. "You think we should look for a murder who threatened your life?"

Utterly uninterested in secrets between the three of them, Martin does not attempt to speak quietly.

"Well, when you put it like that," Jon grumbles, returning his attention to his book and pretending to drop it.

The next day at work, he puts his researching skills to the test. It doesn't even take very long, and in less than an hour, he has an address in Morden, where she apparently owns a bookstore of all things.

The information available is fairly spartan, updated more than a year ago, but Jon can see enough. He can see that she lives less than an hour from Gerry, and it itches at him.

He knows he shouldn't go. Knows that Martin and Gerry will be furious if they ever find out that he snooped, nevermind if he goes there and unsettles old ghosts..

But still, he takes a half-day off from work and gets on a bus to Morden.

When Jon arrives and finds the storefront boarded up, he is half reassured, half perturbed. He had felt almost relieved when he had a concrete lead to follow, but now all he has is more questions.

"She's dead."

Jon startles at being unexpectedly spoken to and turns towards a teen girl sitting in the storefront doorway next door.

"She died, like a while ago? Apparently she lost her shit and cut herself up with a piece of glass. Bleed to death on the floor." She inclines her head towards the dilapidated bookstore. She seems quite taken with the gossip, as if it's the most interesting thing to ever intercept with her boring life. It probably is, Jon thinks, uncharitably.

"When did it happen?" He prods, hoping for as many details as possible.

"Oh, like two years ago?" She nods at herself in confirmation. "You can go in if you want. It's haunted. People are always going in to see if they can find Mary's ghost."

Jon shudders, feeling that Mary's ghost is already plenty present enough in his life. He asks how to get in anyway.

Jon doesn't find any obvious ghosts inside, only a lot of dust, a few vandalised books, and a trashed building.

There's a staircase leading upwards and he stares up at the upper landing for a moment, weighing his options. Might as well , he thinks, and proceeds up it carefully.

There's literally nothing but more dust, and Jon descends into a sneezing fit just as he is deciding to cut his losses, feeling slightly dizzy.

The sneezing turns into coughing, and Jon takes a step back to lean against a wall.

But the wall isn't there, and he falls.

And falls.

Jon calls Martin from the hospital. He’s down in Brighton, meeting with a business supplier, and Jon assumes this makes it a safe bet he'll arrive without Gerry. He assumes wrong.

Gerry arrives, alone, in half the time it would take Martin to make the trip, looking flustered and scared.

"How did you get here so fast?" Jon demands incredulously, made short by his shame and physical discomfort.

"How did I-" Gerry pauses and takes a deep breath, but his next words are still slightly shrill. "I took a fucking Uber, Jonathan. How did you get here?"

Jon opens his mouth, but Gerry cuts him off as he goes on.

"You went looking for Mary, didn't you?" Jon's guilty face must tip him off, because he simply goes on, pacing angrily. "Christ, Jon! What the hell were you expecting to find? And you know what, Martin didn't even sound surprised when he called me to tell me you were here. You know, I can understand this uncommunicative bullshit from you, but not Martin."

"That's not very nice," Jon grouses.

"And do you think it was nice for me to hear from Martin that you were hurt? I'm glad to know he was your one and only phone call from an ambulance."

"Gerry-"

"Don't fucking Gerry me."

"I'm sorry," Jon says, looking down at his hands.

"Are you, Jon? Because you don't even know the worst part yet. If you had asked me, I could have told you Mary was dead, and then we wouldn't be in this mess at all."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew! I was her next of kin!"

Gerry stops, pressing his fingers into his eyes and blowing a hard breath out. He takes several more breaths, heart-pounding, anxiety through the roof.

"Jon, how hurt are you?" Gerry asks quietly, coming closer to gently take a hand.

"Just a few bruises." Gerry raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "A mild concussion." And the other. "Maybe a few broken ribs."

"Oh, my sweet, sweet idiot. How loving you makes me want to climb the walls sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Jon fills his voice with false levity, although it comes out rather shaky.

Gerry grunts, but leans down to kiss his forehead very gently. It's a minuscule point of contact, but Jon knows Gerry and can feel the tremble of fear (fear for him, who would have thought), and the tension of his frustration.

"I'm going to go talk to the doctor, okay? Just- just take it easy. Everything will be fine, love."

Jon doesn't believe him, not really, but he lets Gerry go. There's a lot of noise and movement after that, and Jon's head spins through most of it. Gerry is there, talking to doctors, querying the tests they want to run, and just generally making his opinion in regards to his partner's care very clear.

Martin knows it's bad when he arrives at the hospital and finds Gerry chain-smoking in the parking lot. His expression mostly just looks exhausted, but in his favorite black trench coat, and most intimidating combat boots, he looks ready to burn something down.

"That bad, huh?" Martin tries, but Gerry simply waves him towards the entrance, not making eye contact.

Martin almost cuts his losses, wanting to deal with one idiot at a time, but doesn't want to leave Gerry to sulk.

"How is he?" Martin asks.

"He's in one piece. They asked me to leave so they could do the x-rays. Apparently, he fell over a banister."

"A banister? How?"

"Your guess is as good as mine until we can interrogate him." Gerry takes a long, contemplative drag of his cigarette. "But apparently it's not all that bad and as long as the x-rays look clear, we can take him home in a couple of hours."

"He couldn't have chosen a worse time."

Gerry grunts in agreement. "He's going to tell us he wants to go back to his own flat, but that's only because he thinks I'm angry at him."

"And why would he think that?" Martin questions.

Gerry takes another long drag of his cigarette as if testing Martin's attention span, or patience, or both. Martin just waits, still and easy.

Gerry explains what he knows, his earlier outburst, Jon's guilty, stupid face.

When the cigarette is smoked and put out, Martin finally approaches Gerry all the way, and Gerry sinks into his arms gratefully.

"Everything will be fine."

"Hardly. This is my fault to begin with, and I yelled at him. In a hospital bed!"

"It's as good a place as any other, love. Come on, let's go get him so we can take him home."

Martin kisses him gently, before taking his hand and dragging him off to find Jon.

"Your partner is very loud." The blonde nurse with the buzzcut tells Jon as she wheels him to imaging.

"In his defense, I'm an idiot." He sighs, causing his battered ribs to ache.

She laughs heartily, wheeling him into an elevator. "Almost everyone I meet as an A&E nurse is. At least you seem like an interesting idiot."

Jon actually smiles, somehow pleased with the observation. "I'm Jon."

"Daisy Tonner." She offers a hand, which Jon shakes as firmly as he can manage. "You seem a bit old for trespassing in haunted houses, Jon."

The elevator dings and she wheels him out into the imaging wing. "I was looking for the woman who died there." Daisy gives him a skeptical look and he sighs dramatically. "I didn't know she was dead."

Daisy nods her understanding. "I remember when she died actually. They brought her here that night. Never seen someone with so much blood loss be so… Erratic. We had to strap her down." Daisy looks contemplative as she recalls the memory.

"She was a crazy bitch to the very end, then?" Jon asks, bitterness creeping through his tone at the woman who caused Gerry (still causes Gerry,) so much pain. Jon doesn't allow himself, yet, to dwell on the heartache of the years of Gerry she took from him.

"For sure," Daisy tells him. "What do you do for a living then?"

"I'm a librarian?" Jon tells her, but it goes up a bit at the end, like a question.

"Really?" Daisy asks wryly, "You don't sound very sure."

Jon considers laughing but remembers his ribs in time to settle on a tired smile. "I do work in a library but to be frank, most of the time I just feel like my boss's busy boy. Always running here and there and doing everything but what I thought I was supposed to be doing."

"Most professions aren't what we think they are when we sign up for them," Daisy observes. She parks his wheelchair outside a door and leans around to let them know a patient is waiting.

"Do you like being a nurse?" Jon asks her when she settles against the wall beside him, looking rather more intimidating than one would expect from the average health care worker.

"Most of the time. Sometimes it can be just exhausting and draining." She shrugs, contemplative. "Sometimes I get a patient that makes all the shit worthwhile. Mostly I just want to deck someone, though."

She cracks up at that and looks down at Jon to give him a feral grin. "Your boyfriend seems like a worthwhile candidate. Very punchable face."

"Careful, he might enjoy it," Jon warns her, deadpan.

They exchange a pointed look for a moment, before bursting into laughter. It pains Jon significantly, but he considers it worthwhile to enjoy the moment with a strange new friend.

By the time Daisy returns Jon to his room, both Martin and Gerry are there. Daisy looks pointedly between blue-haired, pierced, goth Gerry, and pink-haired, jumper clad, soft Martin and then eyes up 'born an 85-year old man' Jon for good measure.

Jon just shrugs at her and she nods in acknowledgment, before helping Jon into his hospital bed.

"As soon as the imaging comes through, it'll be checked by the surgeon on duty," Daisy informs them briskly, "then they'll come through and let you know what's happening. You'd best settle in for a bit of a wait. Buzz if you need me."

With a curt nod and a small smile for Jon, Daisy is off.

Martin comes over and pulls Jon into his comfortable arms, pressing his lips to Jon's forehead. He sighs out in relief to have solid reassurance that Jon is alright, alive, and relatively unscathed.

Gerry also moves over from his perch on the windowsill, and folds himself onto the bed, cross-legged in front of his errant partner.

They settle all together, Martin beside Jon, one unwavering arm around his shoulders, Gerry in front of Jon, both of his hands holding both of Jon's.

Jon opens his mouth to apologize.

"I'll go first," Gerry tells him, gently. "I am sorry that I was so upset earlier and that I raised my voice. I was fucking scared and I took it out on you when you needed me to be soft and steady. I'm also sorry that I didn't tell you Mary was dead before."

Jon tries to interrupt now, but Martin silences him with a squeeze.

"I meant to tell you, but it was all very messed up and over-wrought and I honestly forgot." Gerry looks chastised, a rare blush staining his cheeks. "I hope that we can get better at talking these things out so that this doesn't happen again."

He pauses, considering. "And I hope that if I have made you think that you can't talk to me by avoiding telling you things in the past, that you can forgive me and I will do what I need to be better."

Jon is truly floored, and utterly speechless. The words themselves had been a little bit halting and slightly awkward, as Gerry struggled to express himself, but the earnestness proves to Jon just how much Gerry loves him.

"I- I'm sorry too." Jon stutters out. "I'm an idiot but I love you. I hope we can get better at this together."

His words feel downright juvenile after Gerry's acknowledgement, but it's all he's got, pounding head and trapped emotions preventing similar declarations (oh and his total lack of social skills). Gerry beams at him regardless and he leans forwards to kiss Jon sweetly on the forehead.

Martin grabs Gerry's hand and places a kiss on his palm, sending him a significant look. It feels like approval to Jon, and he can't help but appreciate their bond just as much as his own with each of them.

They settle to wait, and they take turns reading from Martin's book to pass the time, each of their voices having a few moments to fill the air and weave around them.

Dr. Basira Hussain eventually comes in, assuring them that Jon's concussion is mild, his ribs are only bruised, and that he should make a full recovery (if he rests), in just a few weeks. They thank her profusely and she leaves them with Daisy to check out.

Gerry goes off to take care of the paperwork and in a few minutes, they're saying goodbye and walking out of the hospital together. Martin and Gerry flank Jon carefully, there to support him if he stumbles.

He also sits between them in the taxi, head on Martin's shoulder and one hand grasped between both of Gerry's. He feels exhausted and floaty from painkillers, and every jolt of the car makes it difficult to breathe.

He smiles, rather unexpectedly. Despite his current predicament, he's glad enough to know that Mary Keay is dead and that chapter of their lives is definitely closed. He does wish he had just asked Gerry, but he hopes that the strained feelings and injuries will blow over and she will finally be out of their lives for good, nothing but a sad, angry memory. A shade living only in the memories of those that didn't know her.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #fic #also on ao3

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seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana · 3 years ago

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The Girl in The Blue Dress

Chapter 21: Planning the End

@megatraven and @aallotarenunelma and @catlovingwitch

I finally got this chapter done!! Even tho it took almost 3 months!! I like it and I hope y'all like it as well! And feedback is appreciated!

And while I did like this chapter, the next chapter will definitely be my favorite. It will have lore reveals, emotions, and some nice Olympus time. More information on the other Gods and it probably will mainly focus on Olympus. SOO!!! I'm excited for that one!! There's proofreading, but if something is wrong or sounds weird or text looks wrong or repeats itself, then my bad :(.

“Because she’s my sister,” Oizys whispered out, her voice slightly shaky.

That sentence made him pause and he shook his head in disbelief.

“That's not possible.”

“It’s the truth,” she fired back at him. She crossed her arms and leaned against the door behind her.

“It can’t be. She’s a human. You’re a goddess. If she was your sister she’d have to be a goddess or some kind of demigod.” He felt anger at Oizys because the implication that she could be a goddess was going to give him false hope. He was used to teasing and tricks, but this was too far. He wouldn’t fall for it.

“What if she isn’t human? Hm? Did you ever think of that?! Ever think of the mere possibility at all?” She narrowed her eyes and that anger was rising again.

He shook his head slightly and let out a deep breath. “She’s dying because she has a curse," he explained. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the ground. He didn't know if he should believe her, but his mind began to wander.

Is she saying the truth?

He ran his hand through his hair and began to think, but Oizys wouldn’t let him do anything. She walked towards him in quick steps and stopped in front of him.

“She is my sister. My other half. I’m the goddess of despair, so you should know what she is,” she whispered in an angry tone. “Why do you think she keeps coming back, huh? Don’t give me the ‘fate’ bullshit. She is cursed. She is cursed by being a goddess and always forced to come back.”

“No. Lumie cursed her in her first lifetime. She follows her everywhere! Including me,” he said as he looked up at her. Surprisingly, he saw a sad look on her face.

She nodded at him. “Yes, she did. But that curse was not to keep coming back. She knows what Rose is and she uses it to her advantage. She makes her come back over and over again and curses her to terrible fates.” She let out a shaky breath and continued. “And I’ve been searching for her, trying to protect her just like you have. But I can’t do it up close. My aura is just everywhere!” She stepped back and gestured to the area of the room, holding her arms out.

She dropped them and took a moment to put her words together. “People feel my presence and I can’t turn it off. I can’t stop these feelings from happening to her, I can’t help her from up close. I have to help her from afar, and that is a curse on its own.” She gets up in his face and points at him. “But you have been able to, and still haven’t figured out the obvious. Can’t you feel it? Or see it in any way?”

He then remembered about the woman he sees in his dreams and in the real world. “What did she look like when she was a goddess?” His voice was quiet as if asking a deep secret.

Oizys backed up and shrugged her shoulders as she thought. “I think she wore this like blue and white dress? And her hair wasn’t brown, it was actually black.” She ran her hand through her hair and sighed. “But what does her look have to do with anything?”

He opened his mouth to tell her, but he felt like he couldn't. He couldn't get the words out for some reason. Something was holding him back, and he didn't want to fight it. "It's nothing."

Oizys narrowed her eyes and he knew she didn't believe him, but she didn't care anymore. She already shared enough. "Fine. Just go to her." Her voice was full of venom and he didn't want to push her anymore. He opened the door to leave, but stopped when he collided with Rose.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she said as she backed up with a small smile on her face.

He laughed and closed the door behind him. "It's okay." He was about to ask her something, but he stopped when he saw her gaze looking at the door. She had a confused look and she looked like she was trying to remember something. "Are you okay?"

She looked back at his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just a little tired." She smiled and held out her hand. "Will you walk with me?"

He nodded and they held hands as they walked through the crowd of people. Apollo looked at many things in the palace as she led him through it, and looked even more in awe when he realized she was leading him to the garden. It was beautiful and Apollo couldn't stop looking at everything. Yes, he was from Olympus and there were more beautiful things there, but the fact that this was on Earth made it better for him.

"Wow. I didn't know you'd be in shock like this," she said with a laugh.

He looked at her and saw her smiling at him. Her eyes were so bright and seemed to glow in the shine of the night. Everything about her was beautiful, and he forgot everything that happened earlier. He just focused on her and the garden.

"I've just never really seen anything this beautiful." He kept looking at her, making sure she knew what he meant. And by the blush on her cheeks, she definitely did.

She let out a fond sigh and laid her cheek against his shoulder as they walked. They walked in peace and kept admiring the garden, but they stopped in front of a statue when they heard someone clear their throat behind them. They turned around and saw a woman who was clearly a queen. She had a golden crown on, a yellow dress on complete with multiple jewel accessories, and he felt Rose stiffen beside him.

"Queen Anastasia. What brings you here?" Her voice was clear and formal.

Queen Anastasia smiled at her and walked closer to them. "Sweetie, you don't need to use formalities with me." She laughed and held her arms out for Rose.

Rose smiled and gave her a tight hug that lasted for a few moments. They both pulled away and Anastasia looked at Apollo as Rose moved to be back by his side.

"Who is this?" She looked at him with suspicion and it would be terrifying if he was a normal commoner.

Rose looked up at him and squeezed his hand. "This is Andy. He's...". She struggled for a moment as she looked at him. She looked back over at Anastasia with a smile. "He's my very good friend."

Anastasia gave Rose a look that meant that she didn't believe her. But she smiled at him anyways. "Well, it's nice to meet you. Any friend of Rose is a friend of mine." She looked back at Rose and now her smile disappeared and she looked serious. "I wish I was here for nice reasons, but I am not. I need to speak with you privately."

Rose looked concerned and she nodded without hesitation. But then she remembered that Apollo was with her, and she looked at him with a sorry look. "I'm sorry, but I have to go with her alone. I'll be back soon, I promise!" She squeezed his hand and followed Anastasia to who knows where.

He felt a little confused as to why she needed to talk to her, but he knew it was probably mercenary business or perhaps it was personal reasons. He just decided to go back the palace and mingle with the people.

Anastasia led Rose to a private room in the palace. It was the room where important decisions were made. May it be plans for war, plans for a party, or daily talk with the council. They always happened here. And now Rose felt worried for being here.

She led her to the table in the middle of the room. They stood beside each other and Rose got to see a map of the area. There were circles surrounding Anastasia's palace and a circle around a border between her and someone else's kingdom. She didn't know the little details, but she did hear about conflict spreading in different kingdoms.

"I need your help once again, old friend." She placed her hand on Rose's shoulder and looked at her with genuine need.

Rose sighed and placed her hand on Anastasia's and gave it a slight squeeze. She kept staring at the map and asked what she always did. "What are you fighting for?"

"This kingdom," she pointed at the kingdom behind the little border, "has been attacking me and my people for some time. It never was too serious. But now they are sending death threats, assassinating some of my council members, and are trying to kill my husband. This is going too far."

"Do you know why they are attacking you?"

"They are attacking because of the last war. You were there, and you know why we fought. And I need to ask of your help once more."

Rose thought about it for a second, but she knew what she needed to do. It was what she promised to do. She looked over at Anastasia and gave a sad smile. "I have to talk with my crew before I make a decision."

Anastasia looked slightly irritated at not being given a clear answer, but she knew Rose and that this is what she always done. She always went to her crew before she did anything. She wasn't alone and working solo, she had a crew and did everything together. So, she nodded at that response and let Rose go back to Apollo.

When she did return, she told him that they needed to go back to the ship immediately. He noticed her worried and uncertain look and felt worried himself. When they did get back to the ship, she made everyone come together on the deck and people looked concerned.

"Alright. I've got some news and it's not really good," Rose said with a laugh.

Many members of the crew looked at each other with unease.

"Queen Anastasia came to the party as well and found me. She asked me for another favor. The kingdom is going through some troubles. A kingdom that is on the separate side of a border is attacking hers, and she asked for my aid. I'm considering helping her, but I need your opinions first." She looked at all of them with a serious look.

"Are you sure this is good? You still have your back wound that isn't completely healed," Melody said with motherly worry.

Rose looked to her side. "I know. But she doesn't seem to be actively going to the war. There is just planning so far. But if the time comes, I want to go and help her."

"Do you want some of us to go?" A crew member asked.

She looked back out at the crew and shrugged slightly. "It's up to you if you want to go, but I will not judge you for being afraid or not wanting to go. You have your own lives and only signed up for being a crew, not soldiers."

Some people looked relieved while others looked serious.

"I say you go if it is necessary. I'll go with you," a man said.

Many more voices followed saying that she should go if necessary, and the only person who didn't speak was Melody. She was beside Rose and she looked worried.

Rose looked at her and was waiting for her input. Melody was afraid, and everyone could tell, but her daughter had her own life. She shouldn't be afraid to live it because of her mother, so she nodded and squeezed her hand.

"I say you go if you need to." Melody smiled at her daughter and Apollo knew she was proud. She was worried, but proud and supportive.

Rose nodded and smiled. "Yes, I believe I have to go."

Next thing Apollo knew, he was training with Rose more than normal. She was training him while he was training her. It was practice every day and he noticed something different about Rose.

She seemed distracted. When she was free, she would look at her book, but never really read it. And she loved that book. She only kept focusing on doing work, spending some time with the kids, and practicing. She was running herself ragged and he felt worry for her. He needed to talk to her.

With a loose plan, he decided to offer her another stroll. He walked up to her bedroom door and knocked. After a few moments, she opened the door wearing her blue toga. Usually she looked happy, but now she looked a little exhausted.

"Rose. I wanted to know if you'd like to go on another walk."

She nodded immediately. "I definitely need to talk with you," she said with a tired tone.

They were now back on that shore where they first talked. The night was cool, the waves were calm, and everything felt good, even if it wasn't. They were both silent as they stood next to each other, but they knew they needed to actually speak.

"Andy, I have to tell you something."

He looked over at her and she was facing him with a worried look. "I'm open for anything, Rose," he said honestly. He smiled at her and she smiled back after a few moments. It was shaky but it was there.

"I think I like you," she said quickly. She was looking down at the ground and picking at her nails. Her voice was quiet with embarrassment.

He stared at her for a moment and was in shock. He never would've guessed she liked him back. She never truly showed it, or was he not paying attention? "You do?" He asked with a tiny bit of happiness.

She slowly looked up at him and nodded. He expected a smile on her face, but a frown was there. "But I don't know if that's good."

"What do you mean?"

She turned back towards the ocean and walked closer to it. She stopped when her feet were at the edge of the shore, the water always coming close to touching her. She stared at the horizon and he knew something was going on in her mind. Something she struggled with.

"I've never really liked someone before...I never let myself like someone. I thought it was useless and I thought it would only distract me," she said softly. She was embarrassed and scared. She never admitted this to anyone except her mother, so no one else knew what was going on in her head. They never understood why she only had one special night with a person and choose to never see them again.

She didn't want to get too close.

He walked to be beside her and looked out into the horizon as well. "What are you afraid of?" He directly asked. He knew she was hiding something and that she was afraid to tell him. Afraid to tell anyone.

She went silent for a moment and struggled for words. She was good with snark and arguing with people if need be, but talking about her personal feelings? It was too difficult and hard to deal with, but she needed to do it now. She needed to face her fear.

"I'm afraid of being left behind," she whispered out.

Apollo felt his heart drop at that. She was the one following others, leading them to a good fate, helping anyone who reached out, and helping the ones that she had to reach out to first. She helped everyone, and now he wonders if it was because she was scared of no one being with her.

"I want to help people, everyone knows that. It's because I do like helping people, and whenever I got that feeling that was deeper than just liking someone as a friend, I would cut them off. I was scared that eventually they would leave me because I'm doing a dangerous job, and if they didn't leave me, then I didn't want them to ever get hurt because of me. And I didn't want to lose friends because of my job that I love. I'm afraid of others leaving me, so I do everything for them," she said shakily. Her voice was tight and she was holding back words and feelings.

He reached out and grabbed her hand lightly. She looked down at their hands and went stiff for a moment, but eventually squeezed his hand gently. She looked back up at him and smiled. "But I guess that's a little stupid, huh? I tell people to hold each other close, yet I push people away."

"No, Rose. That's not stupid at all. It's okay to be afraid of something," he said in a gentle voice.

She kept looking at him and her thoughts were tangled together. Happiness went through her because she felt that it was okay to be afraid, but fear also went through her again. She was still scared of seeming weak because she was afraid of such a small thing.

She looked back down at the ground. "But...how is that okay? I'm a captain. I'm supposed to protect my crew at any cost and I work for the people. I don't listen to anyone. I listen to myself, and when I do that I feel fear."

He turned his body to face her and he made her face him. She had a pout on her face and looked truly scared. He moved his hand to cup her cheek and she leaned into it.

"My words will never be enough, but trust me when I say that it's normal to feel like that. Everyone feels like that at some point. Even I feel like that. I'm always scared of people leaving me, I'm scared of hurting people who I don't want to, and I'm afraid of myself."

"Yourself?"

He nodded and didn't explain. He didn't know how. He was a God and he couldn't tell her. He had all of this power at his fingertips and he kept it at bay, all for her and the people. But he scared himself because he worried one day it would slip out. One day his strength would be out of his control and he'd hurt someone.

"I'm scared all the time, Rose. But...when I see you, I feel okay," he said softly. Now it was his turn to be shy. He was glad it was night so she wouldn't be able to see his blush. He always was honest with her, but it always made him shy in each lifetime of hers, and each time he met her.

Her eyes widened slightly and a blush appeared on her cheeks as well. She'd been with a few people, but none of them made her feel like this. This feeling she didn't know how to describe. She'd read so much about love, adored it, but didn't even know she felt it.

She moved closer to him and pulled him into a hug. She rested her cheek against his chest and heard his heartbeat. It was calm and she wished hers was the same. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his cheek on the top of her head.

"I'm scared for the war. I still have wounds and I don't want to die. Not yet," she said. She was muffled but he heard her clearly. It made his heart drop once again, and he tightened his arms around her.

"I'll do my best to protect you, Rose. I'll follow you every step of the way, every day, and do what you demand."

"But you don't have to. You are your own man. What I want is for you to live as you want to and not follow my demand. Do what you think is right, Andy." Her voice was tight once again but it also was demanding. She meant business and it made him laugh on the inside.

"I know. I don't have to, but I believe what you do. I've followed you this long. I don't plan on quitting now, okay?" He looked down at her and hesitated for a moment before kissing the top of her head.

She was silent as she continued to think and listen to his heart. It was constant, calm, and it made her slowly calm down. It reminded her that she was still alive, he was still alive, they were still here, and everything wasn't over yet.

They still had time. And maybe with this time, she'll realize that she doesn't have to cut him off.

That time, however, wasn't spent fooling around. It was filled with everyone planning for the worst possibilities and the best ones. They had to be prepared just in case she did die. Everyone didn't want to think about it, but they had to. And one person who really didn't want to think about it, was dear Ellie.

She was afraid of the idea and she didn't want to lose her mother. Apollo didn't know her background, but if she was on a ship filled with mercenaries, then something must've gone wrong. She finally found a family and a mother, and doesn't want to lose it.

Rose spent as much time with her as possible. Her attention was split between multiple people. Apollo, her mother, Ellie, the people, and her crew. She managed to spend time with everyone, but it took a lot out of her and he felt sympathy for her. She had all of this on her plate and barely let anyone know. The only time she let anyone know was when she went to sleep with her mother or joined Apollo back at the shore.

He felt worry, but he knew she could handle this. She had her crew and she had him always backing her up. She practiced every day with him and always made sure the people who were joining the war were ready. The only time he got to see the other side of Rose was when she spent time with him on the shore. She looked tired, but happy to be with him and he felt that happiness too. She let her walls down and he was happy to see the real her.

But every night when he went to bed, his heart would hurt. He finally got to see her, but...she was going into another war. She was already in a war before he met her, and all those scars proved that war wasn't kind. It never is, and he knows what else isn't kind.

Her curse.

It never showed mercy, it always hurt her no matter what, and no one could stop it. And now he knew the ending once again. He knew what was going to happen, but he still kept hope. He still believed he could change it. No matter how many times he had to watch her die, he believed he'd find her again and he'd do his best to protect her and end this. He wasn't going to stop now.

Before they knew it, it was only a week before the war started. Rose's anxiety was rising and she felt scared. She agreed because she cared for Anastasia and wanted to help her and her people, but now her anxiety was getting the best of her. She didn't want to die, and she didn't want her friends to die, but she knew this had to happen. She knew Anastasia hated war just as much as she did, so she wouldn't propose the idea of war without reason.

But it still bugged her at night. The ship's rock would now make her feel sick and she felt like she couldn't breathe at some points during the night. She dealt with them alone and no one would get the chance to know.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Apollo asked Rose.

She was getting dressed in the room they shared and he stood outside. The door was slightly cracked open so they could hear each other, and Apollo couldn't help but share his worries. They had just gotten out of another meeting with Anastasia and her council. They were still finishing the final touches of the battle and everything that still needed to happen.

She sighed as she pulled the nightgown over her head. "I'm not sure, Andy. But we don't have a choice. It's too dangerous to walk out this late at night. She held us longer than anticipated."

"She sure did," he whispered under his breath.

"You can come in!"

He entered the room and saw her sitting on her side of the bed, taking off jewelry. He smiled and laid on his side.

"You really love jewelry?" He asked with a smirk.

She huffed a laugh and shook her head slightly. "No, not exactly. I mean, if it's shiny, I like it. I'll wear it a few times and here and there, but I do not love it."

"So you're conflicted about it?"

She paused for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

They both laughed at each other and they ignored the seriousness of the situation for a moment. It felt nice to both of them to just think things were okay. To imagine that they were spending a night with a friend and going to face a bright day.

Once she was done, she laid on her side, facing away from him. She wanted to face him, but she still felt anxious and confused. She read books about love, but experiencing it? It was different and difficult. She wanted to face him just in case it was the last time she saw him, but she couldn't.

"Andy," she started. "Do you think this is the right decision?"

Apollo was facing away from her, but could still hear the hesitation in her voice. This question caused him to remember her past lifetime, and how she asked him the same question at one point. He took his time in thinking for an answer, not wanting to let her down or worry her more.

"I do. Violence is terrible, I know that, but I think we both really know that sometimes it has to happen." He waited for her to reply and she eventually sighed.

"Yeah. I guess we do know." Her voice this time was quiet and he could tell she was lost in her own thoughts now, and he decided to let her be.

However, someone wouldn't let them sleep in peace. Apollo didn't know how it happened or what truly happened, but the next time he opened his eyes, he saw Rose standing against the wall beside the door, hand reaching into the dresser there and grabbing her dagger, and waiting. He wanted to get up and ask what was wrong, but he knew someone was coming, and if he gave her position up, then she'd be in trouble. More trouble than he would.

He kept his eyes barely open and waited with her. Within a few seconds, a figure was walking slowly into the room. Somehow, the person didn't notice Rose right there and was shocked when she shut the door quietly and letting the sound of it closing scare them.

The person turned around with fear and took out a dagger of their own, but Rose was ready for that. She pulled a smaller knife out of the drawer and threw it at the person. The person groaned in pain as the knife landed right in their thigh. Rose took the opportunity to rush over to them and grabbed both of their hands and held them in the air. She took her other hand and placed it around their throat. She looked truly menacing.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

The person didn't hesitate on answering. "I was on orders to kill you," they chokingly said.

She tightened her hand around their throat. "And by who exactly?"

"Queen Anastasia's rival."

Rose cussed under her breath before throwing the person to the ground and knocking them out. She looked over at Apollo and gave a worried look before running over to wake him up.

She shook him gently. "Andy, we have to go check on the others."

He opened his eyes immediately, surprising her, and getting up in a rush. "Where are we going first?"

"Anastasia and her husband. They'd be their first target."

He nodded and grabbed the dagger the person dropped and went with Rose. They walked down the hallways, being as quiet as they possibly could, and made it to Anastasia's room. Rose threw open the door to find Anastasia and her husband fighting off attackers. There were three, one with Anastasia, and two with her husband.

"With him!" Rose told Apollo as she pointed at the king.

Apollo nodded and followed her demand as she went to Anastasia's side. She took the attacker by surprise and stabbed them on their arm. It shocked them enough to where she could snatch the sword out of their hand. She threw it on the ground and out of reach. Anastasia knocked the person out as soon as she could and they both looked over at the king and Apollo to see them doing the same as them.

Once they were sure they were unconscious, Anastasia ran over to her husband and held his cheeks in her hands. "Are you alright?" Her voice that was usually stable and strong, was now weak with fear. Fear because of love. The king reassured her and she gave him a tight hug.

Apollo walked over to Rose and placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her up and down. He didn't see any wounds, but she was good at hiding them. "Are you alright?" He said with the same amount of worry that Anastasia had. Maybe even more.

She gave him a tired smile and nodded. "Yes, I'm alright. The attackers didn't have a chance against us, huh?" She placed her hands on his and squeezed them gently.

He nodded and kept looking at her until Anastasia cleared her throat. Apollo moved to be beside Rose and they both saw Anastasia holding her husbands hand tightly. She had a look of anger on her face.

"I hate to do this, but we have to have this war tomorrow."

Rose gasped. "Tomorrow?" She said in disbelief. "We can't do this so soon!"

"We have to. They were under orders, were they not? That man is trying to get rid of us before the war even begins! We have to strike back," she said with authority.

Rose opened her mouth, ready to retort, but the king held up his hand motioning for her to be quiet. She closed her mouth and nodded as she looked down at the ground. Apollo looked over at her and saw her hands in fists. He moved his hand to hold hers, and after a few moments, she held his hand back. It was tight and comforting to both of them.

Now, she felt like everything was going wrong. Everything was going to end, and Apollo felt that too. He knew her end was coming, and he had to get ready to face it again.

SOOO!!! I kinda sped this one up. I mean, it took awhile to come out, but recently I worked on it and tried to speed it up in a way. I have the next chapter basically almost done!! I wrote ahead because I was so excited and I think it will be a great chapter!! I hope you three enjoyed this and I'd love to hear your thoughts♥♥!! Once again, there's some proofreading, but sorry if something is off.

#my writing #the girl in the blue dress #and hehe planning the end...and the next chapter is the end...and they're planning a war...I took too long thinking of the chapter name lol #Again!! I hope you enjoyed!! And I hope you're excited as I am to talk more about the Gods and Olympus and Rose and Oizys and UGH!! I love #it and the next chapter will talk mainly about that. I mean it'll have her death (whoops spoiler but I mean is it really?? We know this)#but it'll also focus around olympus and such!! I'm excited and practically have the whole thing written!#Anyways!! I hope you enjoyed this and feedback is appreciated!! And Meg if you're confused on everything #the chapters that I think you haven't read??? Unless you did idk. They're 16 17 18 19 and 20. I believe those are the ones you #haven't read?? But idk. BUT YEAH!! BYE GHDSFW #And I meant the next chapter is the end of this lifetime not the actual story lol.

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promiseofthepremise · 4 years ago

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hey! i just wanted to say that i love your supercut series so much! i love the way you write dialogue, its funny and it flows really well, do you have any tips? mine always ends up really stuffy :/ thank you!! :)

oh my gosh 🥺 this is such a wonderful compliment, thank you so much!

i in no way claim to be an expert, but i also just so happen to really enjoy writing dialogue so although i feel very imposter-ish telling you how to live your life here we go!

A few things, some of which I know are obvious (but bear repeating) and some of which are blatant opinion and should be taken with a grain of salt lmao:

(I am.... so sorry this got so long oof)

1. For me personally, the number one way to learn how to write how people talk is simply to pay attention to the way people talk.

Yes, in the stuff you read/ watch/ etc, but mostly just in real life, you know? Just turning up your awareness for speech patterns and word choice and rhythm and emphasis will 1) make some of the stuff below this point super clear and 2) make natural dialogue start coming far more naturally!

2. Show Don’t Tell: perhaps the most widely recognized and cliche piece of writing advice you’ll ever get, but also a valid concern for pretty much any writing medium.

In regards to dialogue, though, I think it mostly comes into play with showing us how a character feels rather than having them tell us. Moments of pure, unadulterated vulnerability tend to be rare in conversation (not unheard of, of course! there will be moments when your characters have an open and honest dialogue about their feelings! i personally adore this!)

My point is more so that if a character is angry, they’re probably not going to say “I’m angry!” but instead they’ll show it in other ways. They’re more terse than usual, they’re speaking in shorter sentences or clamming up entirely, they’re quiet when they’re usually loud or loud when they’re usually quiet, they have an outburst, but it’s about something completely unrelated to what they’re currently mad about-- see where I’m going with this?

3. Keep long speeches few and far between:

this is one of those things that could be considered a blatant opinion lmao but I personally find that big bricks of monologues often times don’t add much to your story/ character and instead just gum up the pacing of a scene.

There are exceptions of course (is your character literally giving a speech? fair enough, friend!) but still, it’s an easy trap to fall into especially when you’re trying to get across exposition, which brings me to...

4. Avoid info dumping!

Do I love it when my friends info dump at me about the things they care about and are very knowledgeable about? yes! I adore it! But can this also, in writing, just serve to slow everything down and make it difficult to actually absorb the information you’re trying to tell your readers? Indeed!

Sometimes you can’t avoid a bit of exposition via conversation, but try not to give all the important information via conversation, because there are so many other fun ways for us to discover stuff about your story and world!

5. Context and Code-switching: Giving characters specific ways of talking that are all their own is really awesome and helps us differentiate between them in a conversation. But being aware of the context of who they’re talking to is also important.

For instance, a teenage boy calling his best friend “dude”? Absolutely-- tells us a lot about the Brand of teenage boy he is. But in most cases we probably aren’t going to see that same teenage boy calling his English teacher “dude,” and if we do that’s gonna tell us a lot about who this kid is and what his relationship is like with his English teacher (as will the English teacher’s response-- “Hey, kid! How about that game?” versus an exasperated “Get to class.”)

Along with this, letting your character fall a little bit out of character can be just as telling. A quick-witted, very smart character may be quick-witted and very smart, but she’s probably not going to be quite as on top of her game if, for instance, she’s hanging upside down above a tank of acid. This is an extreme example but the point is that how we’re feeling, where we are, who we’re with-- all of these things affect the words we use and how we talk! And if a character suddenly starts acting differently than we know them to, even if the situation is a bit more subtle of a stressor than a tank of acid, it’ll tell us a lot about where the stakes have been placed!

6. “Said” is not your enemy! You know how when there’s a fan on in the room and you stop actively hearing it after a few minutes? Said is the same way.

We as readers are gonna notice “she implored” “he exclaimed” “they argued” more than just “they said” because our brain tends to filter it out once we’ve read it a couple of times in a scene, so say “she implored” when it’s important to know she’s imploring, but maybe not all the time. (Of course, everything can be over used and repetitiveness can always set in, but the more you write and the more you listen, the more this stuff and the rhythm of it becomes second nature)

7. Don’t be afraid to start with the action:

starting a scene with “Hey, how’s it going?” is very polite but doesn’t actually move the story forward at all. Starting a scene with “You want me to do what?!” or “Get out of my way!” gives us some sense of 1) the tone of the scene 2) the level of urgency and 3) a reason to be interested in what happens next

8. How often do you address your friends by name?

Probably not terribly often! It’s such an easy thing to fall into, wanting to address characters by name in dialogue for the Drama of it all, but if you do it too much the drama sort of withers away and instead just makes the start of every new sentence stick out like a sore thumb, cutting into the fluency you’ve worked so hard to create

Okay, I could go on about this for hours and I know I’m gonna want to add to this later, but these are the things that came to the top of my head, so I’ll stop being terribly pretentious and know-it-all-ish now.

ps. if you read my writing and notice-- hey, prem, you break all of these rules constantly all the time? Yep! rules are arbitrary and also I’m not a professional 😌

thank you for your time have a wonderful day 💖

#prem stuff #it cannot be overstated how much i do not know what i'm talking about #also i apologize for being Like This #gonna shut up now #ask

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talistheintrovert · 5 years ago

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a royal pain

a royalty arranged marriage au with some pregnancy thrown in for @life-astudyofhypotheticals because TROPES ARE AWESOME KIDS. do i know what era this is set in? absolutely not. vaguely not modern, i guess? anyway, i hope you enjoy it <3

Read it under the cut or on ao3!

********

“You need me to WHAT?!” Clarke asked, incredulous.

“Bear an heir,” Abby repeated, like it was obvious.

They were sitting at the breakfast table when Abby brought it up, and Clarke had nearly choked on her toast. It’s not like she didn’t know her mother was trying to marry her off for the kingdom, but she never expected her to just jump right in like that. She thought she’d spend a few more months being coy about it at least.

“So you’ve arranged my marriage?” Clarke asked, taking a long draught of champagne from the glass that Jasper discreetly handed her, no longer caring that it was too early in the morning for alcohol.

Abby tutted. “You knew this was coming, Clarke, you’re a princess; you don’t get to decide. You marry who is best for the kingdom, and Kane’s kingdom is what we need right now. They have resources we don’t, and the only reason they even agreed to this arrangement was because Kane doesn’t have any legitimate children - his heir is the son of his sister, and he needs to legitimise him. Marrying him to another kingdom’s successor will do that.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes over the glass, trying to keep her emotions below boiling point. “And you want me to bear an heir.”

“Of course, Clarke, that’s to be expected. But look at King Marcus; he never bore an heir of his own and now his kingdom is in danger of becoming unstable due to his nephew’s legitimacy being questioned. I don’t ever want to lose our kingdom simply by lack of trying.”

“Lack of tr-” Clarke cut herself off by downing the last of the drink, trying to stop her mind from reeling. Jasper appeared at her side to switch the glass out for a full one, and she could see Monty glaring angrily at the back of her mother’s head while he refilled hers. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only person who found this insane. Abby would find it repellent that Clarke was friends with ‘the help’ but she didn’t care. She’d never really cared much about that kind of thing, much to her mother’s chagrin, which was probably why Abby was leaning so hard on the arranged marriage - it was the one thing Clarke couldn’t really contest.

Clarke took a breath, trying to calm herself. “Do I get to meet this man?”

“You’re getting married next Thursday,” Abby said, impassive.

Clarke actually did choke on her toast that time.

“Wh- shit...”

“For goodness sake, temper your language, child. If you speak like that in front of Kane’s nephew, you will give him the wrong impression of your character.”

“Or the right one,” Jasper muttered, which only made the choking worse because Clarke started laughing and tried to muffle it by shoving more bread in her mouth.

When she got her bearings back, lungs burning, she asked, “I don’t even get to meet him before our wedding day?”

Abby sighed loudly and folded her hands over the table - a clear sign that Clarke was in trouble. “This is how it has always been done. I didn’t meet your father until our wedding day and we were perfectly civil until the day he died. You’re far too much like him sometimes; he wanted to be radical and spend more time with the people, and I appreciate the sentiment, but that’s just not realistic. You are marrying this gentleman and that’s the end of the discussion.”

And with that, Abby pushed her plate away and left the room.

Clarke slumped down in her chair and Monty put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “Hey, look at it this way - at least it’s not your cousin.”

******

Clarke had never been fond of dresses. She didn’t hate them, but boy did she prefer a comfortable pair of pants to eighty layers of tulle and silk. Yet there she was, standing in front of the mirror in a white wedding dress while Harper added the finishing touches to her hair.

“Are you sure you can’t take my place?” Clarke asked, for at least the third time that afternoon. “We look enough alike, I’m sure we could manage it, at least for long enough for me to escape.”

Harper ducked her head as she laughed. “I don’t know why you’re complaining, he’s really attractive.”

“You’ve seen him?!” Clarke’s eyes widened. “When?!”

Harper raised her eyebrows. “About an hour ago, all of us had to go meet his staff, to make sure none of us step on each other’s toes, and he was there.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, actually. I think he was concerned we might not be very friendly to each other.”

“Interesting,” Clarke hummed.

Someone knocked on the door, and then Monty poked his head around. “Are you almost ready? The ceremony is supposed to start in a minute.”

“All done!” Harper said, stepping away from Clarke so she could admire her handiwork. “And looking like a princess, if I do say so myself.”

Clarke walked carefully towards Monty, dress swishing with every step, and looped her arm around his elbow so he could guide her towards the great hall she was about to get married in.

“You look beautiful,” he said, genuine.

“Thanks,” she sighed, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. “Why couldn’t you walk me down the aisle?”

He smiled sadly. “I’m a servant, Clarke.”

“I don’t care,” she said, earnest, and he squeezed her hand. “I’ve met King Marcus maybe twice in my whole life, I don’t want him walking me down; if I can’t have my dad, I’d rather have a friend.”

Before he could reply, they reached the doors and the king himself poked his head through. “Ah! Princess Clarke, I was beginning to think you might have gotten lost.”

“In my own castle?”

“I get lost in mine all the time,” Kane admitted, taking her arm from Monty as he stepped away. Clarke really didn’t mind Kane, if she was honest - he wasn’t the worst king she’d ever met - but she still ached for someone else to take her towards one of the biggest moments of her life. He seemed to notice her discomfort and tilted his head sympathetically. “I’m sorry your father couldn’t be here.”

She managed a wan smile. “Me too.”

Music swelled and the doors burst open, and then she was walking, automatic, with Kane at her side down a long carpeted nave. The hall was packed with people and she kept her eyes forward, looking at the man she was about to marry.

Bellamy Blake.

He was tall, dark hair slicked back and dark eyes scrutinising her as she approached. His hands were folded in front of him and she could see the tension in his frame the closer she got. Harper wasn’t wrong, he was handsome, but there was something in gaze, something like arrogance or annoyance or maybe both, that made Clarke’s hackles rise.

As she reached the front, Kane let go of her, and she stood in front of this man, the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with, and all she could think about was that she didn’t know the first thing about him.

*****

The ceremony, and the celebrations afterwards, passed in a kind of slow blur.

Clarke wasn’t really registering any of it, she was just going through the motions. She said “I do” and she let the man kiss her briefly on the lips, dry and to the point, and she sat beside him throughout dinner and dessert and the various entertainment before them, smiling and nodding as people came up to the table to congratulate them.

She was slightly comforted by the fact that he seemed as uncomfortable as she did, sitting up just a little too straight in his chair and drumming his fingers on his knees where no-one else could see.

Jasper kept bringing her drinks - thank god for her friends - and on the third or fourth time he slipped between them to top up her champagne, she nudged him slightly, looking to Bellamy’s empty glass. Jasper took the hint and filled it, before winking at Clarke and disappearing back to the kitchen. She wished she could go with him.

Bellamy sipped the drink, gaze cutting to her briefly before returning to the crowd. “Thanks.”

She lifted a shoulder, noncommittal, and bit into the last piece of cake on her plate. She was still chewing when someone approached; a dark-haired girl, who looked pretty angry, and Bellamy winced.

“I’m really sorry,” he muttered, and Clarke didn’t get to ask why before the girl spoke.

“This is bullshit, you know,” she snapped, keeping her voice low.

“Princess, this is my sister,” Bellamy said. “Octavia, this is Clarke.”

“Uh,” was Clarke managed to get out before she forged ahead.

“He doesn’t need to marry some prissy princess just to prove he can run a kingdom, it’s stupid, and frankly it’s offensive. If you think you’re going to come in and run our place like it’s your own you’ve got another think coming, Princess. We don’t need you, and we certainly don’t like you, so you better keep your opinions and your condescension and your money to yourself.”

“O,” Bellamy said, chastising, and she rounded on him.

“No, it’s bullshit and you know it, Bellamy.”

He sighed. “It’s done now, there’s no point picking a fight with the person I now have to spend the rest of my life with, let alone the rest of this evening. Getting angry about it isn’t going to undo the fact that I’m married. It is what it is.”

“It’s bullshit,” she repeated, glaring between him and Clarke. “You don’t get to look down on us just because your kingdom is wealthier and Bellamy isn’t a direct heir.”

Not for the first time that evening, Clarke was thankful her mother was at the other table across the room. She took a long sip of her drink. “Did I once say I did? I don’t care how much money you or anyone else has. I don’t care if you’re direct descendants of the throne or a merchant from across the sea; either way, I don’t know you. You’re saying all this like I had a choice in the matter. You think I wanted to get married to someone I’ve never met? You think I wanted any of this? I don’t get any choice who I marry, I don’t get to fall in love, I didn’t even get to see his face before I married him, I just do my duty because that’s what is expected of me. You don’t know me and I don’t appreciate the assumption.”

Octavia scowled, folding her arms like she was about to start a fight, but Bellamy held up a hand, quieting her, and she huffed loudly and stomped away back to her table where she immediately started muttering to people, shooting glares up at Clarke.

Bellamy turned to Clarke, apologetic. “She’s just worried about me.”

She shrugged, finishing off her drink. “It’s been a long day, I think I’m going to bed.”

He nodded, getting to his feet and holding out his arm.

At her questioning look, he rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “It’s our wedding night; it might look a bit strange if you go to bed alone.”

She felt mildly nauseous. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” he rushed to correct himself, “I don’t intend to do anything you don’t want me to do, but for the sake of appearances-”

“Good idea,” she said, before he could speak any further, and took the hand he was still holding out to her. They stepped away from the table to the cheers and toasts of the crowd, and she smiled until her cheeks hurt, until the people could no longer see them, until they reached the door to their new bedroom and she finally let it fall from her face.

He dropped her hand as he let them into the room, barely sparing a glance at the bed before he walked to the closet and started shedding clothes, hanging them up as he went. She hovered near the bedpost, biting her lip nervously, and when he glanced over his shoulder and noticed, he stopped unbuttoning his undershirt and returned to her side.

“I meant what I said, Princess, I don’t have any expectations about tonight. You don’t need to concern yourself with that.”

“We have to consummate the marriage, Bellamy, or it isn’t bound,” she said, matter-of-fact, and he laughed.

“Who’s going to know? Outside these four walls, who would notice if we didn’t?”

“Are you not... interested in women? Because if that’s the case I’m sure we could arrange something,” she noticed the expression of pleasant surprise cross his face and forged ahead. “Or is it me? If you don’t find me attractive-”

“Yeah, that’s,” he let his eyes trail down her figure appreciately, “that’s not going to be an issue.”

She blushed. “Then surely it’s just better to get it out of the way?”

He snorted. “Well, when you put it like that.”

“You know what I mean,” she bristled.

“Princess, we’re married. We have years ahead of us, and I don’t know about you, but I’d quite like to know more about you before we do anything else. I don’t even know what you eat for breakfast yet, let alone where you like to be kissed.”

“Neck,” she said instinctively, and his eyes widened a little. Her blush deepened. “Now probably isn’t the best time to admit I’m not a virgin, is it?”

His face broke into a wide grin. “Me neither. See, we’re learning about each other. Isn’t this a better use of our time than a quick consummation of a marriage neither of us wanted? I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind being friends, if nothing else.”

Clarke felt the tension she’d been carrying in herself for the last week slowly uncoil and she took a shaky breath, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

He returned to the side of the room to finish undressing and she did the same, managing to get out of most of the layers on her own before she reached the corset and gave up.

“Bellamy?” she asked, quiet, and within seconds he was at her back, fingers making quick work of the ties. As it loosened, she sighed, slumping slightly, and by the time it was completely untied, hanging off her frame, she was leaning against him and his hands were around her ribs, comforting. “Thank you.”

He hummed acknowledgement and pulled her towards the mattress, sitting down and positioning her on the edge in between his legs. Before she could think to ask what he was doing, he started taking out her hair, unwinding the twists and tugging pins from the ornate updo until all of it was hanging around her shoulders and he was idly running his fingers through it.

“You’re good at this,” she mumbled, eyelids drooping.

“I’ve got a little sister, you pick things up. You might remember her as the woman who accosted you earlier,” he said dryly, and she laughed. He removed his hands from her person and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over his waist while she finished putting her things away. She was dimly aware of him watching her, and as she tucked herself in next to him, he said, “I am sorry about that by the way.”

“I understand,” she said, turning to face him on the pillows despite the darkness they were washed in. “You’re moving in here for the foreseeable future and she doesn’t want you to leave her. She has to blame someone for that.”

“It shouldn’t be you though. You didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Clarke smiled reassuringly, hoping he could see it. “It’s okay Bellamy, really. We’ll introduce her to my mother and then she’ll really have someone to hate.”

And when Clarke drifted off, she did it with the sound of Bellamy’s low laugh still circling her mind.

*****

Over the next few days, Clarke learned that waking up next to Bellamy was incredibly frustrating, mostly because she kept waking up on his chest.

It wasn’t her fault; he was warm and she seemed to unconsciously gravitate towards him, and it really didn’t help things that he looked abnormally good in the mornings. The first time, she stammered an apology as she sat up, scrambling to her own side of the bed, but he waved a hand, uncaring, and promised her he didn’t mind. The fact that he went to bed shirtless only made it worse.

The first morning, he’d tossed an undershirt on loosely and encouraged her to not get dressed properly either; so they could sell the idea that they’d spent the entire night consummating the marriage. Clarke had wrapped a dressing gown around her night clothes and at his smirk of approval, they’d walked to breakfast together.

His family was staying in the castle from the wedding, so Kane and Octavia were both at the breakfast table with Abby, along with Kane’s staff, and Clarke wanted to sink into the floor when she realised they were all there, but Bellamy’s arm snaked around her waist and he kept it there as they found their way to their seats. She felt embarrassed despite not having done anything wrong, but his hand on her hip made her feel a little less anxious, especially when he seemed to forget it was there and idly stroked her side while he chatted to his sister.

To her credit, Octavia seemed a lot less furious in the light of day, and even managed to spare a nice word or two towards Clarke, which was progress.

Of course, it helped when Clarke suggested that Octavia should stay even when Kane returned to his own kingdom, to help “make the transition easier” for Bellamy. She was pretty sure she earned herself a serious chunk of respect from the fiery girl for that, not to mention from Bellamy, whose eyes poured into hers like liquid gold until Abby cleared her throat and changed the topic.

Breakfast passed comfortably and after a while Clarke could almost forget that she and Bellamy were in a significant state of undress for a royal gathering.

Almost.

Monty and Jasper, mature adults that they were, kept mouthing innuendos at her behind the heads of Abby and Marcus, and more than once, Clarke had to cough to cover a laugh. It didn’t take long for Bellamy to notice it too, and he turned and hid his smirk in Clarke’s shoulder, which only deepened their ruse.

And then, of course, some of Kane’s staff joined in, which only made the laughter in her chest bubble even closer to the surface, and Bellamy’s cheeks turn pink with the effort to remain expressionless while he ate.

As it turned out, she liked Kane’s staff almost as much as she liked her own; the ones assigned to stay with Bellamy once Kane left - Murphy and Miller - were particularly fun, and Clarke found herself in more than one animated conversation with Murphy about the local markets (which she was not supposed to have visited, but what Abby didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her). And Miller’s deadpan sarcasm never failed to bring a smile to her lips, particularly when it was directed towards her mother.

But the person she was most taken with was Bellamy.

He was perfect.

It was actually incredibly annoying how wonderful he was.

He loved to read, and in the first few days he kept going missing, until Clarke asked Miller where he was going and he told her he liked hiding in the library.

He also clearly loved his sister, and doted on the girl frequently.

He was an impressive archer (although he would be the first to tell you that his sister was better) and his sword skills were remarkable. Sometimes Clarke went and sat to the side and sketched while she watched his fencing practice with Miller or Murphy or Octavia.

He was also unfalteringly kind.

Sometimes she found herself daydreaming about what it would be like to wake him up with a kiss or surprise him before bed, especially on the occasions when she caught him looking at her with that warmth in his eyes, or when his hand brushed against the small of her back when he passed her at the table.

It was beginning to drive her a little crazy how easy it was to want him.

*****

After a few weeks, Abby started to make more and more obvious hints about expecting them to bear an heir in the very near future, and it began to really stress Clarke out.

She wasn’t ready for a baby, and she was just getting on even-footing with the idea of being married, but her mother was always eight steps ahead and expecting her to catch up.

The first time Bellamy walked in on her having a panic attack was over two months after their wedding. He’d been away for the weekend, back in his own kingdom to assist Kane, and the entire two days Abby had done nothing but lecture Clarke about how important it was for her to bear children and how much better of a wife she could be if she would only try, and if she couldn’t even bring herself to perform her wifely duties then how could she be expected to run a kingdom - and Clarke reached her breaking point. She was sitting on the edge of their bed and sobbing into her hands, unable to catch her breath, and she thought she had the entire afternoon to herself as the Blakes weren’t getting back until the evening, but she must have lost track of time, because suddenly the door of their room was opening and then it slammed as he pushed himself towards her.

“Whoa, whoa, Princess, what’s going on?!” Bellamy crouched down between her legs, trying to catch her eye.

“It’s nothing,” she wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked away, attempting to get her breathing under control.

He huffed. “It’s clearly not nothing. C’mon, Clarke, what’s going on, what can I do?”

“Nothing, I... it’s my mom, she... she just keeps talking about heirs, and she thinks I’m not spending enough time on you, and she spent the entire weekend just making me feel awful about it and she think we’re already sleeping together. I can’t even imagine what she would say if she knew we hadn’t yet, I... I just... it makes me feel so...” she sobbed. “I’m not just a princess, I’m a person, I can’t just be perfect all the time, it’s so exhausting, I’m so tired Bellamy, I’m-”

“Hey, hey,” his palms were stroking up and down her thighs and he was still trying to find her gaze. “Your mother has no say in what we do behind closed doors, okay? If you don’t want to-”

“But that’s the problem, I do want to,” she admitted in a rush. “I want to so much, all the time. It’s all I think about. But I’m... part of me thinks that if we do, that I’m only doing it for the wrong reasons. And I know I’m not, I know I like you, but I’ve spent so long listening to my mother and the other royals that it’s so hard to separate duty and want in my head, they’re so intertwined I don’t even know if I know the difference anymore-”

“Whoa, Clarke, breathe,” he said urgently, palms ceasing their movement against her knees and the pressure of it felt like it was holding her together. “It’s okay.”

She chanced a peek at him, and she wasn’t expecting to find anger in his features. It startled her. “I’m sorry.”

His scowl only deepened. “I’m not angry at you, Princess, I’m angry at Abby. She has no right to make you feel this way. Hell, if I’d have known this sooner I would have confronted her. I would have confronted her every day if I had to. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Clarke shook her head. “It’s not your problem.”

“You’re my wife,” he said, emphatic. “It is absolutely my business when someone makes you feel lesser, especially when that person is your mother.”

She felt those words to her core, resonating in her chest, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so supported. She didn’t even let Monty or Jasper see her panic attacks - the only people who knew were her father and Wells (who had been across the oceans travelling between kingdoms for two years) and she managed to keep them hidden from everyone else for fear of being accused of being weak. But Bellamy was sitting in front of her, looking up into her eyes like he wanted to fight the world to wipe the sadness from her brow, and she found herself swaying towards him.

The first time their lips met, it was moistened by her tears, and he made a noise of surprise. She made to pull back, feeling embarrassed for being so forward, especially when she was crying, but he followed her upwards, hand coming up to her neck to steady them when he kissed her.

She instinctively tangled her fingers in his curls, tugging slightly and making him moan into her mouth and yep- that was a noise she wanted to hear again.

Somehow, they ended up horizontal, Bellamy’s arms framed either side of her head as he trailed kisses down her neck, making her arch up into him. She felt his cocky grin pressed into the underside of her jaw and she couldn’t even be annoyed at it, because of course he remembered.

“This okay?” he asked, moving down her chest, nosing fabric aside as he went.

“I swear to god if your clothes aren’t off in the next two minutes, I’m divorcing you,” she breathed towards the ceiling, and felt his laugh against her collarbone.

“As you wish, Princess.”

*****

It took a lot of time for Bellamy to convince Clarke that the fact that they were sleeping together didn’t mean that she was just doing her duty. Months passed and she still couldn’t quite shake that anxiety, despite all his attempts to convince her otherwise. He made sure to check in constantly that she wanted it, making sure to remind her that it had nothing to do with their lives outside that room.

And occasionally the bathroom.

And once in the library.

(In her defence, he’d looked particular radiant in the light from the window, squinting at the book because despite the sun being in his eyes, he didn’t want to move and lose his place.) (He didn’t mind so much about losing the place when she climbed in his lap.)

She wanted desperately to silence the voice in her head that told her it was part of her wifely duties, and sometimes, when Bellamy was murmuring sweet nothings in her ear, he could drown it out, but it was never quiet for long.

That was, until the day he told her he loved it.

It wasn’t anything big, not a sweeping romantic moment, he was just climbing into bed after her (shirtless, of course) and when he leaned across the pillow to kiss her goodnight, he mumbled the words into her lips. Like it was routine, something he always did.

“Really?” she asked, stroking his hair back from his face.

He smiled and dropped another kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Princess, I’ve been in love with you for months. Surely you’ve noticed. Or Octavia must have told you. Or Murphy.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t put much stock in what Murphy says,” she said, lashes fluttering.

“That’s a pity, sometimes he does actually say something of value, and it would be a shame if you were to tune it out,” he teased.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she retorted, kissing him again.

“I love you,” he repeated, for emphasis, and she smiled into the kiss, ruining it somewhat. “And it’s not like it could come as a total shock, considering we’re married.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” she laughed.

“Go to sleep, Princess, we’ve got an early meeting tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned.

“That’s what I’m here for, to remind you of all the important engagements we have to keep.”

“Ah yes, that’s the only reason I love you,” she rolled her eyes, but he froze above her, eyes boring into hers.

“Yeah?” he asked, and she almost laughed again at how earnest it was; he could tease her for being surprised at the words, but when it came down to it he was just as taken aback by it.

She shrugged. “It’s true, that is the only reason.”

His head dropped against her chest, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “You’re awful, I can’t believe I’m stuck with you the rest of my life.”

“Get used to it, I’m not going anywhere,” she teased.

Rather than return to his side of the bed, Bellamy settled in against her chest, arm curling over her waist as he got comfortable, and she played with his curls, feeling sleep beckoning. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with hers, and she’d never felt so content in her life. But still, she felt she should clarify;

“I do, you know. Love you.”

He chuckled into her shirt. “Yeah, Princess, I know. But it’s nice to hear it again. I can’t see myself getting tired of it.”

“Good, cause now that I’ve said it, I’m not going to stop.”

“Good plan,” he exhaled, already half-asleep.

And as she drifted of, Clarke noticed that she hadn’t heard that voice of self-doubt since the moment he first said the words.

*****

Unfortunately, Bellamy was particularly blessed, and not two months after their first declarations of love, Clarke woke up feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom. She spent most of the morning hunched over the toilet, but it didn’t occur to her that it could be anything other than food poisoning until she was sick again the next day. And the one after that.

Just over a week later, Bellamy crouched with her as he had done every day, palm stroking up and down her back as she sniffled against the wall, the worst of it fading.

“I think I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering there. “I think so too. Is that okay?”

She closed her eyes as another smaller, wave of nausea hit her. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry, Bellamy-”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” he said, earnest and passionate and everything she loved about him. “It’s okay if you’re not ready, we don’t have to-”

“I want to,” she promised, turning to look at him and ignoring the way her stomach flipped as she did. Her hand lifted to his cheek. “With you, I want to. I just... I wish it was on our terms.”

“It is on our terms, Princess,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to, but if we’re doing this, if we’re having a baby, we’re doing it because we want to. Because we love each other and respect each other and we decide. Okay? No-one else has anything to say to us about it.”

She starting crying in earnest, overcome with emotion, and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him into a tight hug. They sat on the bathroom tiles, misty-eyed and rocking slightly, and Clarke wondered how they’d gotten here. When they got married she had decided she didn’t know him, that she wouldn’t like him, and every day since he’d managed to prove her wrong.

“I love you,” she sobbed.

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic, Princess,” he said sardonically, to hide the wobble in his own voice as he dropped a kiss into the crook of her neck.

“Shut up, you know I do.”

“Yeah,” he sat back, brushing the hair from her face. “I know.”

“I want to do it,” she admitted. “With you, I want to.”

A small smile began to grow in his cheeks. “Yeah?”

“But we’re not telling my mother for at least another month.”

“Make it two and you got a deal,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss the tears from her cheeks.

There was a noise in the doorway - someone clearing their throat - and they looked up to find Wells standing there with Jasper and Monty trailing sheepishly behind him. He smiled awkwardly down at them. “Hi. Sorry; they let me in. They said your husband would be busy with Abby by now, I assumed you would be bored and I could surprise you.”

“Wells?!” Clarke stumbled over her feet as she stood up and Bellamy’s hands snaked out to steady her, right before she leapt at her friend. “When did you get here?!”

“This morning.”

“How long were you standing there?” She asked, pulling back to look at him properly.

He shrugged. “Long enough to offer you congratulations.”

“Yeah, congrats Princess!” Jasper said loudly, earning a smack from Monty. “Ow, what was that for?!”

“She just said she didn’t want anyone to know.”

“I don’t want my mother to know,” Clarke clarified, reaching blindly back for Bellamy’s hand. “Provided you can keep it a secret from her, I’m more than happy for you to tell every other person in this castle.”

Monty snorted. “Deal. Congratulations, Clarke, Bellamy.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, eyes flicking to Wells. “So you’re the best friend, right?”

“And you’re the husband. Clarke’s letters have been getting to me a little late because of my travels, but I’m pretty sure the last one I received said something about wanting to kiss you and not knowing how to ask,” Wells grinned at Clarke as a blush filled her cheeks. “I assume you’ve managed without my advice, what with the baby on the way?”

“That was months ago,” she said, flustered.

“And that letter reached me barely a few weeks ago,” he replied, winking at her. “C’mon, let’s sit in the garden for lunch, you can tell me all about it.”

“Bellamy?” Clarke asked, looking up at him with all the affection she could muster. “You coming?”

“I’ll give you some time to catch up - I’ve got some news to give my sister,” he kissed her nose.

“Tell me what she says!” Clarke called after him as he ducked from the room, waving sweetly as he did.

As it turned out, there was no need for Bellamy to relay the message to her, because twenty minutes later, when she and Wells were sitting on the grass with Jasper, Monty and Miller, Octavia ran up and - very carefully - tackled her. “You’re pregnant!?”

“Keep it down, O,” Bellamy’s voice said as he approached behind her.

“Don’t worry, Abby’s not here, she’s with the council,” Monty waved a hand.

“You’re pregnant?” Miller asked, somewhat more subdued than the youngest Blake, who was now dancing around excitedly, attempting to drag Bellamy into it. Things had changed a great deal since their first arrival all those months ago.

Clarke smiled. “I suppose I’ll have to call Doctor Jackson, but yes.”

“Nice,” he held his fist out for her to bump and she laughed.

“Where’s Murphy?” Jasper asked, glancing around.

Bellamy made a face. “I told and he disappeared, I don’t know where he went.”

“It’s not like him to avoid us, especially when Abby isn’t here,” Miller frowned.

“CONGRATULATIONS, IDIOTS,” Murphy’s voice rang through the garden and they all swivelled to see him carrying an enormous cake towards them, iced to perfection. He put it down on the blanket and rocked back on his heels so he could cut it, handing the first slice to Clarke. “I’m so glad we got stuck with you, because Kane’s first choice was someone from Azgeda and I can’t deal with those bland, icy people. There’s no sense of humour in those mountains. You get me.”

“And more importantly, she loves your friend,” Miller nudged him with his toe.

“Ah, yep, that too,” Murphy shrugged, and Bellamy snatched a piece of cake from the plate, looking unimpressed, but it was belayed by the smirk that threatened to overwhelm his whole face.

Her family was supportive, and regardless of how anyone else reacted, regardless of the months ahead, regardless of what had brought them here, this was enough.

*****

“I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Clarke had been in labour for fifteen hours and she had hated every agony-laden second, not least because at first, the only people in the room had been Abby and Jackson.

Jackson eventually asked for Harper to join them, to help with the process, but even her calming presence didn’t alleviate the stress Clarke felt at having her mother peer at her from the side of the room.

“Where’s Bellamy?” she’d panted, throwing her head back against the pillow as another contraction started building.

“He’s still in court with the parliament.” Abby said, like it was obvious.

“Why?!”

“Focus less on your husband and more on your baby,” she said, serious.

“Why isn’t he here, Mom?!”

“He doesn’t need to be distracted from his duties simply because of labour; it isn’t as if he could be in the room anyway, that isn’t civilised.”

“He doesn’t even know?!”

“You’re having a baby, Clarke, that’s hardly something he can help with.”

Clarke wanted to scream. “If someone doesn’t bring me my husband right now, I’m going to abdicate the throne.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Harper!” Clarke cried, and she took the hint immediately, running from the room and calling out for Octavia and Wells who were pacing nervously down the hall. They immediately ran to the stables to make their way to the parliament house, while Harper returned to Clarke’s side and dampened a cool cloth to place around her neck.

It felt like hours passed, but the court was only a twenty minute carriage ride from the carriage, and she was certain her friends could ride fast, but finally, finally, Bellamy burst into the room.

Abby shrieked in shock. “Absolutely not! Out! Out!”

Bellamy didn’t even look at her, just climbed onto the mattress and crawled up to Clarke, his boots still on. He reached for her hand. “Hey Princess. You’re doing great, okay? I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. You’re doing great.”

She gripped his fingers so hard she would have been worried about breaking his knuckles, if it weren’t for the pain taking up every inch of her consciousness. To his credit, he didn’t say a word, didn’t even wince, and settled down next to her, stroking her sweaty forehead.

“This is highly irregular,” Abby sniffed.

“I want her out,” Clarke panted. “I don’t want her here, I can’t- get her out.”

Before Bellamy could take action, Jackson straightened and turned to the Queen. “Madam, it seems that with both the Princess and her husband in here, the parliament must be lacking in royal guidance. I suggest you make haste to assuage them - I am perfectly capable of delivering this child under Prince Blake’s supervision.”

Abby looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t have a leg up against the doctor, so she spared one last disparaging look at the couple on the bed before she strode from the room.

The second she was gone, Clarke slumped sideways into Bellamy. His arm came up around her, holding her upright as he offered a strained smile to Jackson. “Thank you.”

“I’m a doctor, my first priority is my patient; I don’t care what the done thing is - if Clarke wants her husband and not her mother, she gets it. There is no reason to make childbirth more strenuous than it typically is.”

Clarke whimpered in acknowledgement as another contraction started, and Jackson’s clinical gaze looked her over.

“I do believe it might be more than helpful to have you here, Prince Blake - could you sit behind the Princess? She needs something sturdy at her back, and when I tried to take the pillows away, she used some rather harsh language.”

“Because the headboard is wooden, ah-” she cut herself off with a cry, scrunching her face up in pain.

Bellamy didn’t need to be asked twice. He kicked off his shoes and manoeuvred himself around until she was sitting between his legs and her arms were propped up on his thighs, nails digging into his knees. He banded an arm above her baby bump, holding her steady, and she threw her head back against his shoulder, trying to remember to breathe.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” she growled.

“That’s hardly language befitting of a princess,” he teased, and she dug her nails in harder. “Ow, ow, okay, I’m sorry, not the time for jokes, I’ve got it.”

“We are never doing this again,” she panted. “I don’t care how good you are with kids, or how cute you are, or how much you love me, we are never having another goddamn baby. This is the only one you get.”

“Whatever the hell you want,” he promised, brows pulling together in distress as she muffled a scream of pain against his neck.

*****

Over twenty hours of labour and at least eighty curse words later, Clarke cradled her baby to her chest, unable to tear her eyes from the perfect creature in her arms.

“She’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Bellamy pulled her sweat-soaked hair back from her neck, blowing cool air on it as he looked over her shoulder at the gorgeous baby girl.

“She’s wonderful,” he agreed, kissing her cheek idly.

“I’m sorry I screamed at you.”

“I’m not, it was pretty fucking attractive,” he deadpanned, punctuating the sentence by running his nose along her cheekbone, pressing gentle kisses as he did. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you before-”

“I was bright red and sweating,” she pointed out.

“You say that like it’s going to change my opinion,” he smiled against her skin and lifted his hand to brush his thumb carefully over the baby’s chubby cheeks as she slept. “Can you believe we made something this perfect?”

“Should I let in the spectators?” Harper asked, grinning.

Clarke almost started; she’d forgotten anyone else was in the room, but Harper and Jackson were both standing to the side of the bed looking tired but pleased. At their nods of approval, Harper shuffled to the door and called out, waking up the people on the other side. Wells, Monty, Jasper, Miller, Murphy and Octavia all stumbled in, half-asleep but excited to see the new royal baby.

Octavia was the first to hold her, rocking her gently as she sat on the edge of the mattress. Clarke tangled her fingers in Bellamy’s, feeling a surge of pride, and Jasper started openly weeping, grinning from ear to ear. He wasn’t the only one, although Miller and Murphy were a little more subtle about wiping their tears away.

“Where’s Abby?” Jackson asked, bemused.

“We told her we’d wake her up when the baby was born,” Monty shrugged, cooing at the baby.

“Do you want me to go get her?” Jasper asked, a teasing lilt to his voice, “I can tell her you’ve born an heir.”

Clarke smiled softly, watching Octavia pass the child to Wells, who looked like he was holding the entire world in his hands. “You know what, I think we can wait a few more minutes. She’s had a stressful day, after all.”

Murphy snorted. “This kid is gonna grow up a tiny menace with parents like you two.”

“Good,” she grinned.

“What are you going to name her?” Harper asked, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers as she spoke.

Clarke hummed pensively, exhausted, and rested her head against Bellamy’s. “I don’t know. Can we figure it out later?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he agreed.

It was sappy, and later she would claim to have never had such a thought, but surrounded by her family in that room, sleep-deprived and spent, it occured to her that with Bellamy at her side, she was ready for anything.

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

Note

Hey!! Can I request some fluff with Arthur (modern au) he finds out his s/o is pregnant please!! Thanks 😍

I hope this one’s fluffy enough! Sidenote: I know NOTHING about pregnancy except what very little is taught in the joke that is the American Sex Ed system. Also, I used my own family as a model for this piece (not saying everyone else’s would have this reaction).

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You stand alone in the aisle of the store, torn. You’re scared, anxious, and somewhat embarrassed. In front of you stands the shelves, part of the pharmaceutical area. The boxes you’re looking at hold pregnancy tests. Should you get them? Part of you wonders if you’re just going through a weird hormonal phase. You’ve had them in the past, but none of them were like this.

Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve been having weird things happen. Getting incredibly nauseous throughout random periods of the day, you’re getting tired even when you haven’t done anything. Certain parts of your body have started to become tender and even firmer.

After Googling your symptoms, everything you found said possible pregnancy. You even took this one survey that was very interactive and asked a lot of questions. One of them was “have you been sexually active within the past month?”. Well, of course you have. You’ve been dating your boyfriend Arthur for over a year. However, that test said 93% likelihood of pregnancy. When you took the test again but lied when it asked about sexual activity, it came up with some bullshit that didn’t make sense to you. Now, the only thing you have left to do to be sure is buy one of these stupid urine tests.

You grab a box of 12, hoping no one is around to see. You shouldn’t feel ashamed for doing this, yet you do. A result of your childhood, of course. You were raised to think that a couple who had a baby outside the bonds of marriage were idiots, harlots, uncommittable morons who were dooming any baby to a lifeload of problems. As an adult though, you’ve managed to train yourself to think differently, especially now that you aren’t very close to your religious nuts who call themselves your parents. Still, that fear is there that others will think those things of you.

Quickly, you buy the box and stuff them into a grocery bag, ignoring that it’s a single item that you could easily carry in your hand. Still, you want to hide it. When you get to yours and Arthur’s house, you stuff the box into a cupboard where you keep your other feminine items. Arthur definitely won’t look for anything in there, he knows what’s in there. You don’t take one out though. You’re not ready.

When Arthur comes home, he can tell something’s off. He usually works from home as he’s a rancher, but today he had to make a run to town to sell some of his goods from the one grocery store in the tiny town. He actually makes some pretty fair money and he’s never bored.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks as he tries to cuddle with you on the couch while you both watch a movie.

“Y-yeah,” you say nervously. You’ve been dreading the thought of telling him. Never have you discussed with him his opinions on having kids outside of marriage before.

“You sure? You look kinda… darlin’, you gettin’ sick?”

You shake your head. “No. At least I don’t think so. Arthur, I… I need to tell you something. Please don’t be angry.”

“Sweetheart, you know I could never be angry with you.”

You smile, loving how he can be an extremely rough man. Hell, you remember the fight he got in. It was when you were still living in that horrible apartment complex when you and Arthur first hooked up. Your neighbor was always kind of creepy, making inappropriate comments about you when the two of you passed. One time, he’d done that when Arthur was with you and Arthur got pissed. He’d started yelling at the man, but your neighbor got right up in his face. It didn’t take long for Arthur to punch him. One hit was all it took to put your neighbor in his place, but it was only a couple of weeks after that when Arthur asked you to move in, worried about your safety.

“Okay,” you say and sit up. You grab one of his hands and place it on your thigh. “Arthur, I… I’ve been going through some kind of weird change and I did a little research. I think I…. I…”

A tear slides down your cheek. Arthur looks worried and he reaches up to wipe it away, his thumb gently tracing your skin.

“It’s okay, darlin’. You can tell me anything.”

You swallow. How the hell could this happen? You and Arthur have been so careful when you’ve had sex in the past. You’re on birth control and he’s always used protection. Then, as though the answer is painfully obvious, you remember that one day when you’d forgotten to take your pill and been in the shower. Arthur joined you and one thing led to another.

You shake your head, trying to clear it. “Arthur… I think I’m pregnant.”

His hand on your face freezes. Shit, shit, shit. His eyes have widened and his face is pale, his mouth in a hard line. Fuck, why did you have to tell him? Well, how could you not have though? More tears spill out of your eyes as you think that he’s going to end things right here and now. Your mind starts reeling with what you’re going to do after all this.

Just as you’re on the brink of completely breaking down, Arthur grabs you and pulls you close, burying your face into his chest. You realize from the sound of his breathing and sniffling that he’s crying too.

“Oh my God, darlin’. I couldn’t be happier. Were you scared to tell me?”

You look up and rub your eye, trying to dry it. You nod.

“Oh, darlin’. I never want ya to be scared of tellin’ me anythin’.” He kisses your head, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into his shirt. He lets you cry as much as you need to, intermixing his soft kisses by telling you everything’s going to be fine.

Finally when you’ve calmed down, Arthur pulls you away slightly so he can look you in the face.

“So… do you know for sure?” he asks.

“No. I’ve only Googled my symptoms. I bought some tests but… I haven’t taken any yet.”

“Well, come on then. Go take one. I’ll be here with ya every step, okay?”

“Arthur, one isn’t going to do it. Sometimes you get duds.”

“I know, but just take one. You can do more over the next couple of days. But only take them when I’m here, okay? I wanna be with you for this.”

Great, now you feel like crying again. God, if you’d known he was going to be this sweet and supportive, you could’ve saved yourself a lot of stress. He pats your back, so you get up and go take a test. The box says to wait three minutes, so while it sits Arthur pulls you into a tight hug and sets a timer on his phone. When it goes off, you look at the label on the test.

Two stripes. Positive.

You sigh and put your face back into his chest.

“Arthur, what am I gonna tell my parents?” you say, wanting to relieve more of the stress this thing is causing.

He rubs your lower back. “We’ll cross that bridge in a bit, darlin’.”

“They’re gonna be pissed when we finally tell ‘em,” you say. “They’re probably going to pressure us to get married. I’m not telling you to try and pressure you into it, I’m just warning you.”

He smiles and kisses your head. He doesn’t say anything because the truth is he’s been thinking about asking you to marry him anyways, but he wants it to be a surprise. Of course, the baby complicates things because he knows you’ll probably think he’s only doing it because of the baby.

“Darlin’, don’t worry about them. You’re an adult, and so am I. They can’t make our decisions for us, and it ain’t their right to tell us how to live. That’s all you gotta say to them. And I know your mother. She’ll be excited for a grandkid.”

You giggle. “Yeah, as long as she doesn’t ask me to move back in just so she can keep it for herself.” Your mom’s obsessed with kids, so you know that at least your parents won’t end up disowning you for having this baby.

“Yeah well, you’re mine and so’s this.” He puts his hand on your stomach. “Ain’t no one takin’ my family away from me.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #awkward asks

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hoxton-wolf · 5 years ago

Text

Reiji Sakamaki

hey hey this is an x reader I would like to let y’all know that there is some mention of depression and violence so yeah be warned but yeah do enjoy it.

besitos~

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For (Name) it was to say the least, difficult to be Reiji's girlfriend; without the constant insults that over time, has now affected her greatly. Over time she had learnt to keep the problems she faced away from Reiji knowledge. She was well aware how it can become quite bothersome, he is not the comforting type; and thus she learnt to bottle up her problems, granted it isn’t the most healthiest or smartest thing to do and she knew this very well.

Walking to school was calming for (Name), it gave her time to just appreciate life even for just a moment. Normally she would have taken the limo, with the Sakamaki's. However, in her favor the Sakamaki’s knew that she needed space every now and then; but there was this nagging feel at the back of Reiji’s head, telling him that something was off.

Once at the school grounds she was greeted by her male friends, greeting them all with a “bro-hug” as she would explain it. Although her male friend had her back no matter what, more so when she had to deal with the female students that would spread petty roomers and spit venomous insults her way.

Whilst chatting with her male friends she was unaware of her boyfriend who had heard her laughter, as she chatted with her friends. He stood for a moment to observe his girlfriend, in hopes to confirm his suspicion. There he saw the answer, it seemed that as she finished laughing her smile had fallen as soon her friends talked among themselves

"(Name)" a deep, demanding voice beckons her over

"Hello Reiji" she smiled walking to him

"Are you alright?" He asked arching an eyebrow at her

"I'm fine, better than ever" she gave him the thumbs up.

Reiji had decided it was best to not comment on anything for now, and that he would rather wait for when they were in private. Looking at the time he gave a small sigh;

"Hurry (Name) we have to attend the home-room, and i would rather not have to wait for you to get out of detention for being late to home-room" he said turning on his heels with a sigh.

(Name) made no protest, she decided she had no sark to be snarky with his slight rudeness. They walked down the hall together, Reiji with his head held high and strong as he paid no attention to the whispering slurs around them. (Name) however, trailing behind him only two steps back; kept her head slightly down and eyes forward, but her fidgeting hands hidden in her pockets desperately trying to push the unwanted thoughts and feelings;

"Oh my god why would Reiji date her? She looks like a boy" said one female studen to her friends

"I feel sorry for him, he must be embarrassed by her" said another

"Yeah, what if some of the guys in the school start spreading roomers about Reiji being gay" another female studen exclaimed

"Ugh does she have no shame" scoffed another

And the insults just go on and on. Obviously Reiji had heard these slurs before however he paid no attention to them. The only opinion he cared about was that of his girlfriend. With a small look to his girlfriend he could tell that she was bothered, being the observant person he is he could tell she was fidgeting in her pockets and felt anxious; and for his sake kept a strong and unbother expression.

There were times when (Name) would be able to hide her depressive mood to the point where at times she would start to think she's beaten it, when in reality she would convince herself it would all go away, but the hard truth was that it will always be there and it would be something she would have to manage and deal with all its hardship.

Sitting in class (Name) began to stare off into space, she was almost detached from reality. The teacher was calling out the roll and soon the teacher had arrived to her name. After the first, second, third time teacher then lost their temper;

"(Name) is she here?" announced the teacher.

Reiji stepped on her foot snapping her back to reality and giving her a stern look. He would never have to do this, sure he could have replied for her but he is well aware that she is more than capable to answer for her own actions.

"Here!" She called out giving a "bright" smile.

The teacher heaved a sigh and continued to call the roll. Reiji looked at his girlfriend clearly annoyed by the lack of attention to the teacher. She dismissed it saying that she was keeping track of a fly that was in the classroom. Reiji gave a sigh and put his attention back onto the teacher.

During class change, a few of the female students had circled around (Name). Startled at first she soon covered her facade with a cocky smirk. She stood herself up right slightly to intimidate but more so to be ready for whatever could come next;

"Here’s some advice (Name), dump him. It's clear that he isn't into you" snarled one female

"Maybe you're right, but then again. I doubt he’d be into any of you lowlives" she said with a shrug

"Shut up tranny" one snapped

"Well that's not very polite, now what would poor Reiji think of that vocabulary?" mused (Name) as they grew angry

"Go die in a hole!" one shouted

"Thought about it a few times" she let out an exasperated sigh.

One of the more slightly petite females lunged at (Name). She had no choice but to defend herself; she kicked her in the gut sending her back. This caused an obvious stir as the rest went forward to try and land a hit on her. Unfortunately it was too much; it was five against one, but (Name) put up a good fight.

With a few cuts and scratches from their nails and bruises from their kicks, (Name) had managed to get herself to the nurses office. After small treatments the nurse excused herself to make a report and to give (Name) a sick note to be sent home. As the nurse was gone (Name) let herself cry for a bit to let out some stress.

Throwing herself on the bed staring at her ceiling fan, heaving a heavy sigh knowing it was going to take a long time for her to get to sleep. She decided on taking some natural sleeping pills to aid her falling asleep. After what seemed like a while (Name) she had turned on her side however, she felt that someone was in her room. The anxiety and paranoia started to set in, sliding her hand under her pillow she gripped an open switch blade. hearing the light steps of the person approach cause her to act fast, grabbing the weapon, she waited for them to get closer that was until she heard them call her name; none other than her boyfriend

“And why are you absent, you are lucky that I have a double free period. I would rather you not end up like that deadbeat of a brother of mine. Now care to explain” Reiji asked with slight annoyance

"Oh it’s you Reiji, what's up?" she replied.

Her back to him as she replied. There was a moment of silence, Reiji sniffed the air descrit; he smelt old blood. He grew very serious as his demeanor turned from annoyed to a protectively concern

"Don't ‘what is up’ me.... You will turn over and look at me, this is a serious situation; now please explain to me why there is a scent of blood" he growled a little

"Chill dude" she muttered curling into a fetal position

"Look at me (Name)" he growled. She ignored him

"I said look.at.me" he growled a little louder

On any other day he would give into the fantasy of making her obey and punish her, however he was well aware that this was a serious matter. He pulled her shoulder back a little so that she could look at him. She felt weak emotionally and physically but that was from the natural sleeping pill slowly relaxing her body, turning he finally could see her face.

She could see many emotions go through his face; from shock, concern, annoyed and lastly anger. Her lip cut, already scabbing with dry blood, and her left eye slightly irritated and bruised.The growl at the back of his throat began to rumble, clearing his throat he took a deep breath. Grabbing her face he examined her fully, his face grew dark in features

"Who?" He asked calmly his feature still dark

"I handled it myself" she said looking away

"I don’t care if you handled it yourself. As your boyfriend and partner, I am to protect you regardless" he sighed

"I can look after myself, I don't need your protection. I'm not weak" she snapped striking his hand away from her face

"I am aware of that, you certainly are a strong mortal woman. I’ll give you that, but you don’t need to deal with everything by yourself. You do understand that what you did was highly irresponsible" lectured Reiji

"Can you leave me be, Reiji. I wish to be alone" she said sitting up, stopping him mid lecture

"Unfortunate I cannot do that I need you to understand the severity of this-"

"Reiji" she growled

"(Name)" he growled back.

The two glared at one another, Reiji was more bothered by the fact his girlfriend was being stubborn and interrupting him when he was trying to explain something, but what was bothering him the most was that his own girlfriend had a lack of trust with him; even though (Name) had told him many times that she trusted him. It wasn’t until (Name) back down and looked away, to avoid his pointed gaze. Reiji takes a deep breath, unsure how to react in a situation as delicate as this.

Reiji took a seat on the end of her bed, his back lightly touching hers. She sat up and rested her head on his shoulder. He sighed softly as he lowered his tone quietly

"What is the matter? You seem to be out of it these past few days? Your grades have also taken a hit… (Name), I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong"

"It's none of your concern" she said bluntly

And just like that Reiji could feel (Name) build these walls up as she moved her head off his shoulder. He glared lightly as he stared at her blank yet cut and bruised face

"It is of my absolute concern, whatever you are caught up in, it needs to stop, it is affecting your basic function of what makes you human… such bothersome and complex creatures you are" Reiji sighed pushing his glasses up

"Just leave me the hell alone, Reiji. I can deal with my problems, alone" she snapped.

She faced his back and shoved him off her bed, stumbling he was reaching his patients with her now. Getting his footing back he turned around to meet with her angered face and matched it with. Reiji had her pinned to the bed, her hands pinned above her head, getting real close to her face he growled out;

"Don't ever speak to me like that, ever again. I am not only your boyfriend but I hope you haven't forgotten I'm a vampire and can easily overpower you" he growled in her face.

She looked away from him, she could feel the tears burn behind her eyes; looking away from Reiji’s piercing gaze. With a softer tone he asked her again to just let him know what was going on with her

"You wouldn’t understand, Reiji." she said quietly

"Then explain it to me, explain in a way to make me understand" he said softly.

He let go of her and sat next to her. Slowly sitting up she looked down on the floor fidgeting with her knuckles that were bruised with her brawl with the female students;

"Look, I know not to get caught up in pathetic roomers and insults; but in the end they always come back to bite me. I hate feeling this way...you really deserve a beautiful mature woman. Not some tomboy that is mistaken for being a boy. Or some pathetic and weak person who takes other people's opinion to heart….it’s just so human yet so god damn annoying " Tears started to fall

"Why would I want someone just like myself? You humans are strange... Plus I find you very interesting... (Name) I'm sure you know this already, but I take in pride that you're an intelligent young woman. And you are not only physically strong but you are much stronger emotionally but you shouldn't bottle up your emotions" Reiji explained as he bumped her shoulder with his own.

(Name) let's some more tears fall. Reiji decided to put a hand on her head bringing her into his chest. She tried her best to not sob, the unfamiliar contact from her sometimes distant boyfriend meant a lot to her. She knew his past and so knowing that he was willing to do this simple gesture was very special

"It’s alright to cry... Didn't you tell me that" he said, giving her a soft kiss.

And just like that she fell apart in front of him for the first time throughout their whole relationship. He held her close as she cried herself to sleep. Staying the rest of the night until she woke up, he wanted to make sure she was alright.

#x tomboy reader #x reader #reiji sakamaki #diabolik lovers #reiji x reader #fluff

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treatian · 4 years ago

Text

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 44: Regina’s Insurance Policy

He hadn't planed much of a defense for the trial simply because he didn't have to. Spencer would be able to present his case against her first, and if by some miracle they got through all that before Kathryn was discovered, he did have a few character witnesses lined up, but he would be shocked if this got that far. Just as Spencer was certain that this case was open and shut, he was confident it wouldn't last that long.

Sure enough, Albert Spencer was halfway through his opening statement that morning when someone, Ruby, came slamming into the courthouse. All eyes turned to her at the unexpected interruption, and she looked around awkwardly at the court. Until she saw Mary Margaret. Then she smiled, straightened her back, and made her way down the center aisle to Albert Spencer, where she handed him a note.

The judge was antsy and frustrated at the turn of events, urging Spencer to make an explanation, to tell the court what was happening. Instead, he looked up from the note, his face so crestfallen it was difficult to hold in his knowing smile.

"Your honor…I'd like to make a motion to delay these proceedings."

"On what grounds?" he argued as it would have been expected. He longed to turn around and see Regina's face. "My client is entitled to a speedy trial and is eager to prove her innocence. Your Honor, we are prepared to proceed. If Mr. Spencer has not met the burden of-"

"Kathryn is alive!" Ruby shouted out before he could finish. The sounds of not so hushed whispers and the judge's gavel banging through the noise disrupted the peace. But Ruby went on as if she hadn't heard it, fanning the flames. "We found her this morning, outside of Granny's! She's alive! I saw her myself. Mary Margaret didn't kill anyone! She's innocent!"

If it was chaos before, then what followed was absolute pandemonium as the judge tried to get the shocked courtroom in order. People were openly talking, no longer caring if they were whispering. In fact, he thought he heard someone in the back scream while the judge continued to yell for order. And there in the midst of it all was Mary Margaret, her jaw open, her eyes wide on her pale face. Deliverance. Salvation. He put a hand on her shoulder, and all at once, he saw the muscles of her back body bend and contract. He saw her take one timid breath, then another, before her body curled up on itself. Everyone in the court saw as tears sprang to her eyes just before she threw her hands over her face and wept.

It was over, in her opinion, but not in the courts. There was more work to be done. Of course, he argued that she be freed immediately, but Spencer insisted that she be remanded at the county jail until they could be sure she had nothing to do with this. He didn't argue. Emma interviewed Kathryn, and a few hours later, they were all gathered once more in the judge's chambers as she reported that Kathryn had been drugged. It was going to take a bit more time to clear what she'd been given out of her system, but Mary Margaret was innocent. Kathryn claimed that she'd been held in a basement of some kind. He himself provided testimony that Mary Margaret neither owned nor rented property in town that matched the description of where the woman was held. In addition, he had bank statements to prove she paid no one else for the use of such a place and never had large amounts of cash withdrawn to pay under the table. It was impossible. And of course, there was the matter that while Mary Margaret was in jail, Kathryn had been cared for. Emma reported that while she'd never seen the face of her captor, Mrs. Nolan had been fed and reasonably looked after, not to mention drugged all while Mary Margaret had sat in jail for these past few days. She couldn't have been in two places at once, not unless Regina wanted to confess to giving the skeleton key to make the argument that she'd snuck out to do these deeds only to sneak back in. And she was not willing to do that, it seemed.

Who had done it? No one in town seemed to know. Ironically enough, the only thing anyone could really know for certain was that it wasn't Mary Margaret. In being under arrest, she was the only one that had an iron tight alibi. And with that, Mary Margaret was free to go. Emma beamed as the judge gave the appropriate apologies, and Mary Margaret fell into her arms, saying something about going home to get a hot shower and sleep in her own bed.

He managed to avoid Regina on the way out, something he desperately had wanted to do, given he had one last thing to arrange for all of this. He pulled the birds he had watching Emma and David and Mary Margaret and sent them after one person, telling them only to take him to his cabin in the woods and wait there for him. It was time to have a talk with Sidney Glass.

He had to convince him to take the blame for Regina, show him how to play the game. Regina would do the rest. When she got scared, she'd look for someone to blame, someone to help that wasn't him, and Sidney…Sidney was the obvious choice, especially because of their previous association. Add that to the bug he'd planted in Emma's office. Emma would have enough that she'd have no choice but to go along with it even if she still believed Regina was behind it all. And there was no doubt in his mind that Emma would still think Regina was responsible. Emma would be angry at Regina for all that she'd done to Mary Margaret, all she was putting Sidney Glass through, and she'd lash out. Regina would be angry at Emma; she'd recognize her as a threat. The two women would get back to focusing on one another. Everything would be right back on track for Emma to believe and the Curse to break...and then he could get his egg and bring magic back to find Bae. Finally.

"Relax, Mr. Glass," he muttered when he arrived in the cabin and found Sidney sitting there rubbing his hands nervously on his pants.

He smirked, the corners of his mouth trembling anxiously as if he couldn't manage to make light of this no matter how hard he was trying. "Hard to do when the last man in this cabin with you was just released from the hospital."

Now it was his turn to smirk, to let out a small snort of amusement to show the man that he wasn't denying anything but rather thought nothing of the incident. "Relax, Mr. Glass," he repeated, taking a seat opposite him and motioning for his associates to wait outside. "This conversation is for your benefit, not mine."

"My benefit? What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"In the next few days, Mr. Glass, you're going to be charged with kidnapping, blackmail, wiretapping, and fraud. You'll be found guilty. But, better yet, if you're smart, you'll admit to it."

A quiet settled over the room for a moment as Sidney took in the words, and his eyes widened.

"For the Nolan woman?!" Sidney blanched. "But…but how? I'm innocent! I didn't do this!"

"It doesn't matter if you did it. The Mayor is going to make it look like you did to save her arse."

"She can't do that."

"Oh, Sidney…we both know she can." He smiled sinisterly, and suddenly whatever words Sidney had that he was going to argue died on his tongue as his eyes widened and he considered what he was saying. They both knew it. But just in case he needed reminding… "That heart tested positive for Kathryn Nolan, didn't it…and yet here she is alive and well. Who do you think arranged that test?"

A lie. A blatant lie, as he'd been the one to arrange it himself. But Sidney didn't know that. He didn't need to know that.

"But…but I didn't do any of it. I…I gave her some phone records, but…Oh!" Sidney suddenly sat forward on his couch, leaning toward him as his face screwed up to the point he thought he might cry. "You've gotta help me! We have to stop her! You know the truth. Surely we can do something!"

"Oh, yes, yes, of course, of course, but…are you truly sure you want me to?"

"Are you crazy?!" he shouted. "Of course I want you to. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because life is a game, Mr. Glass," he explained with a sigh as though this lesson was nothing. He had to be very careful about how he approached this. He had to make it desirable. Even more than that, at the end of the day, he didn't want Regina to know they'd had this conversation, and so he had to make it so appealing that Sidney would want to claim the idea for himself and leave him out of it. He was trying to be very calm about this, but in reality, a lot rested on this conversation. Without it, Regina might go to prison. Then Emma would never break his Curse, and the Savior would never believe. "Life is a game that we all play, and it's not about who gets to the finish line first, it's about who is playing the smartest."

"I don't understand. Why? Why would she set me up? Why would she set Mary Margaret up like that? Why would Regina do any of this?!"

"Why doesn't matter," he shrugged. "What does matter is that she did this, arranged it all. Now it's all falling apart, and she risks having it all point back to her. She risks prison, losing Henry, losing her power, unless she finds someone to pin it on, someone to take the blame for her. You're the obvious candidate."

"Me?! Why me?"

"You've worked with her before. You were devoted to her, a faithful follower. You've gotten her information before, pulled strings for her in the past, and you just confessed to getting her phone records for this very case. And I have it on good authority that she'd already taken one of those bugs you're so fond of and planted it in the Sheriff's office. She'll frame you, Sidney. She's already begun. She'd claim you were angry at her, and so you tried to frame her for framing Mary Margaret…quite funny when you think of it."

"B-b-b-but why? Why would she…"

"Inconsequential. All that matters now is that she'll get away with it. Unless…"

"Unless?"

"Unless you play the game with intelligence. Unless you think things through."

"I don't understand."

"I know. Which is why I'm going to walk you through this as plainly as I can. Think of me as your own personal seer, laying out your future. You have two options available to you, Sidney. The first, we fight her accusations."

"Yes!" he exclaimed, slamming a hand down on the table between them. "That's what I want to do! I want to fight it!"

"Wonderful. But you'll lose."

Sidney's face fell. "But-"

"The evidence against you Sidney is…well, it's impressive. A jury won't believe you've been framed, they look for the simplest explanation possible and what's happened…it's complicated. A jury won't be able to follow it! Regina, she may get a slap on the wrist, might get her hands a little dirty on the other end, but you…you will be convicted. You will go to prison."

Sidney's throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. "So…what's my other option?"

"Embrace it," he explained, sitting back with a smile. "I believe around here the phrase is 'when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.'"

Sidney narrowed his eyes at him and turned his head slightly as if he couldn't decide whether or not to be offended. "Are you…are you suggesting I take the fall for this?!"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting, yes."

There was a heartbeat of silence between the pair before Sidney suddenly launched out of his seat. "Out!" he screamed. "I want out! I want to leave!" But when he opened the door, he came face to face with Stan and found his way blocked. As the man stepped forward, Sidney stepped back.

"Thank you, Mr. Dove," he called out as Stan reached inside for the door and pulled it closed, trapping Sidney once more. "That would not be the smart option, Sidney," he continued cordially to the man as he began to pace around the small cabin. "If you are feeling trapped now, just think about how a cell would feel."

"Why bother?!" he shouted. "If I listen to you, then there is a cage in my future no matter what I choose!"

"No one said that," he corrected in a quiet voice that forced Sidney to stop moving and be silent if he wanted to hear what he had to say. "Sidney, you are currently unemployed, disgraced, not a single friend in the world. You have nothing to lose. You are at rock bottom, and therefore the only place you can go is up. Now, Regina has targeted you because you are a convenient flunky. The two of you have a history together. She can spin that any way she wants, or…you can take control of it and spin it for yourself."

Sidney watched him carefully in the purposeful pause. "I'm listening…" the man finally murmured.

He smiled. Suddenly he was aware of what a shame it was that he'd never gone fishing. He probably would have been good at it. "She needs a Savior right now," he explained gently, enticingly. "You could be that Savior. Confess. To all of it. You can tell the court that you kidnapped Kathryn, planted the bug in Emma's office, the knife, the heart, the phone records all of it. Present your recent firing and undying love for the Mayor as motive."

"Yes, but if I admit to this-"

"Politics…you and I both know the Mayor is Queen around here. If you admit to this, on her terms, here's how this will play out. We'll claim that you are unstable, suffering from a mental breakdown. You'll be declared to be incompetent at trial, unable to aid in your own defense. You'll go to a psychiatric ward in the hospital for treatment, spend a few weeks there, you'll get a good vacation before they declare you well and no longer a danger to the public. You'll be free. And Regina will be so grateful she'll hire you back, or…"

"Or?" he gasped, hanging on his every word, falling for it just the way that he wanted him to.

"Or you'll have blackmail on her. You can threaten her with the truth. Maybe she'll give you a raise, maybe more…"

"More?"

"Perhaps. Loyalty can be a very valuable thing. It's all how you play the game. One way ends badly for you. The other…the other gets you ahead in life, potentially everything you've ever wanted. So, yes, Sidney, I am here to help you. But the question is…do you want me to?"

There was another pause in the room where he swore he could hear Sidney's heartbeat. Or perhaps that was just his own, echoing in his ears as he waited for Sidney to think through the options he'd laid before him. Finally, Sidney sat up a little straighter, rolled his shoulders, and held his head higher. Like before, his eyes widened, but this time it wasn't in fear but rather in determination and perhaps realization. He wasn't surprised when Sidney turned his gaze on him and choked out three words that sealed his fate.

"I'll do it."

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #dark one #mr gold #Mary margaret blanchard #Snow white #Emma Swan #Regina Mills #Evil Queen #Sidney Glass #magic mirror #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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dawnwave16 · 5 years ago

Text

Leaf Bound

Hi all this might be a little salty in places but I didn’t feel it was enough to tag salt. As Always I hope you enjoy! Also this is a one shot so I don’t think I will write more of it...

Story:

Shikamaru had grown up knowing about the outer countries. How could he not know about them when his soulmate knew about them? He didn't let anyone know that he had that particular aspect of a soulmate mark though, it would be way too troublesome! Shikamaru was one of the rare people in the world with more than one soulmate trait. His most obvious, and thus his only known, one was a ladybug that scrambled all over his chest and arms. As far as he knew it reflected his soulmates current mood or activity, after all, how many ladybugs could sow or do other handicrafts? That's not to say that that's all it did but it was one of the most common things to see his little bug doing. He loved his little mark even though it tickled when it ran across his skin, making him want to squirm.

His other marks were something he kept secret after all sharing knowledge and skills wasn't very common. That's not to say he knew all of her thoughts nor she all of his. The knowledge that the bond shared was more the world or general knowledge that they had as well as what they learned in school. As for skills, well, his mother had never taught him to sow or how to make clothes at all and that was one of the most useful skills to have as a shinobi. Baking and cooking was another thing his mother had never had to teach him so it was fairly understandable when his parents were shocked when he made them a cake and iced it expertly for their wedding anniversary one year. He didn't tell them how he'd done it though, that would lead to questions and questions were troublesome.

His final mark was one that normally gave him the most comfort, a soft tune that played constantly in the back of his mind. The tune changed slightly depending on her health and her state of mind. When she was happy or creating something it was a soft, happy tune when she was upset or stressed it took on a more sombre tone. When she was angry the tune became more staccato and lately, it was the melancholy, staccato tunes that were the most prominent tunes he heard. To make matters worse, his little ladybug hadn't drawn or sown anything in quite some time and hadn't scurried over him happily in over a year. In short, Shikamaru was worried and his teammates were starting to take notice, all of the Konoha 12 had.

“Okay Shikamaru, enough is enough! The war is over, repairs are underway and you get to cloud watch or laze around whenever you aren't training or working. What's bugging you?” Ino demanded.

“And don't tell us 'Nothing' as you've looked troubled for the last few weeks,” Naruto stated bluntly. It was unusual for Naruto to get involved as he wasn't the most observant but Shikamaru knew he needed to be honest with them. They had been through a lot together after all.

“ Troublesome, not here. I don't know how much everyone knows and I have a feeling at least part of the explanation will need the Hokage's attention so lets head there and once he raises the barrier, I'll explain.” He sighed heavily. The others looked at each other, then swiftly finished their meals and walked to the Hokage's office. Kakashi was surprised to see them all but quickly agreed to raise the barrier. Shikamaru sighed and mumbled a quiet 'Troublesome' before looking at his friends and Kakashi and starting to speak.

“As most of you know I have a ladybug soulmate mark that likes running around and generally being troublesome,” he began and saw most of them nod. “What you don't know is that that isn't my only soul mark. I have two others, though all signs point to them belonging to the same person.” Everyone's eyes showed their surprise at that and he raised his hand to forestall their questions. “The reason I say this is one of those marks is the one where there is always a tune playing that allows you to keep track of how your soulmate is emotionally and the tune always matches my little ladybug's mood. The last mark is why I said we needed the privacy barrier. It's the one where the two soulmates share skills and knowledge.” Shikamaru shifted slightly from foot to foot.

“That is how I can cook, bake, sew and draw. I have no idea what abilities of mine my soulmate got. Anyway, with the knowledge it seems we share a pool of general knowledge about the world we live in, however, they are not in the elemental nations. They live beyond its borders, probably in a country called France as that is where quite a lot of their knowledge seems to concentrate and they speak a language called French. Part of our skillshare thing is we can speak each other's languages.” He concluded with a shrug.

“So what does all of that have to do with why you have been so distracted?” Ino asked gently.

Shikamaru sighed then in a small show of trust, took his vest and shirt off, showing them the ladybug. He glanced at the clock then looked down at the little bug. At this time of the day, it normally had it's nose in a book or was busy writing however, today it was just sitting holding a leg much like they would if they hurt themselves. He went to touch it, only for it to shy away from his finger. Shikamaru closed his eyes in sad acceptance and dropped his hand.

“It's been reacting like this for two weeks. I used to be able to stroke it to try to send my soulmate comfort but two weeks ago the song changed from it's already melancholy tune to one that is almost non-existent and the ladybug started shying away from all forms of touch. I'm worried about what could have caused this change.”

Silence met Shikamaru's revelation but he didn't lift his head, choosing instead to keep looking at the cowering ladybug that was now on his arm. It seemed to understand that he was worried but knew that there was nothing that could be done to help.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Marinette didn't know what to think of the fact that she had three soulmate marks or indicators. She loved the lazy, shadowy Shika deer that wondered over her torso and upper arms dearly though. She didn't know why her soulmate was best represented by a deer or shadows but she didn't question it. Her soulmate's song was just as relaxing most of the time and she loved designing while listening to it. When she turned thirteen she noticed that the deer now had a piece of material around its neck. The material had a spiral that looked almost like a leaf, which she recognised as the symbol for Konoha.

The only reason she recognised it was due to the shared knowledge that she received from her soulmate and due to that she had guessed that he or she was a shinobi for the village. It was also due to this shared knowledge that she knew the weird eyes she had unlocked when she was fifteen and in the middle of a battle as Ladybug, were known as the Rinnegan.

In retrospect, it was due to knowing that her eyes were from the elemental nations that when her mother had revealed that Marinette was adopted, in an argument over Marinette's trustworthiness of all things, that the news didn't truly hurt as much as it would have otherwise. When Sabine had screamed out that no daughter of hers would ever be as unreliable and as much of a liar as Marinette was, Marinette had, at first, been confused. Seeing this Sabine had decided to spit the fact that they had adopted Marinette from some random traveller when she was barely a year old in her face. It had hurt Marinette to think that a simple thing like being adopted would make her mother so susceptible to Lila's lies but at the same time, it let Marinette form her plans to go to the elemental nations with a clear conscience.

After defeating Hawkmoth and taking back the Black Cat miraculous from Chat Noir without finding out his identity nor he hers, Marinette had simply been waiting to finish her education before packing up and leaving France. She knew she would need to be the one to move as a shinobi couldn't abandon their village. Especially not a Jonin, if the jacket her mark sported was anything to go by. She wondered if the mark that represented her wore clothes too. She guessed it would be a Ladybug due to her miraculous but wouldn't know for sure until they met.

She had been so caught up in her thoughts that the sudden shove that sent her spinning off balance and in turn sent her tumbling down the stairs came as an unwelcome shock. Marinette kept her eyes closed as she mentally checked to see if she was injured or not. She had been Ladybug for so long that this was second nature to her but that didn't mean she could contain her wince as she checked her arms and found her left one was broken. Thankfully, she had only been about halfway up the stairs when it happened or Marinette was sure she would be worse off.

“That's for Lila,” the person who shoved her sneered before vanishing back into the crowd. Marinette sighed, even with Hawkmoth gone, Lila was still finding ways to bring out the worst in people. She didn't know who it was that had pushed her nor did she care if she was honest. Finding out would do nothing to change the opinions of all of Lila's sycophants so Marinette ignored it. She was going to be late for class if she didn't hurry.

Once school was finished for the day, Marinette made sure she had everything of value to her packed away in a suitcase along with everything else she could fit into it. Thanks to her Soulmate's knowledge of fuinjutsu she was then able to seal that bag into a seal that she had sown onto a ribbon that she had taken to wearing tied around her wrist. She even sealed away the miracle box with the consent of the kwami's that lived in it.

To anyone looking around her room, nothing had changed. There was still a sowing machine and design paraphernalia stacked away in a corner. Her computer still sat on her desk, heck even her large stuffed cat was sitting on her bed. None of those things was what she would be taking with her. She had bought a new sowing machine along with several other things when Jagged had paid for his last commission. She had insisted on delivering it in person as she had then explained to him what was going on in her life and what her plan was moving forward. He had been disappointed that she was leaving but he had understood and helped book her a plane ticket to Japan and from there he had booked a ticket on the only ship that went to and from the elemental nations.

The plane ticket was booked for graduation day, which would help hide the fact that she had left as no one would expect her to miss it after stubbornly completing school. What none of her classmates or her teachers or even her parents would expect is the bombshell that would be dropped on them during the ceremony. Marinette had meticulously documented everything that had been happening at the school and sent it to the Department of Education as well as the school board. What happened to those involved after everything came to light wasn't her problem.

The following six weeks blurred together as Marinette completed all her school work and let her arm heal up. A side effect of being pushed around so much was she flinched whenever anyone came near her. It wasn't noticeable to anyone who wasn't trained to notice it but it still annoyed her. She knew she would have to have at least a small amount of counselling to deal with the problem and she hoped whoever her soulmate was wouldn't be disappointed in her.

The morning of her flight from Paris dawned with a slightly grey and anticipatory air to it. Moving quickly and quietly, Marinette did a final check of her room, making absolutely sure that she had left absolutely nothing that she would miss behind. All her lockboxes, designs and even her spare fabrics, needles and pins were packed. Once she was sure she had everything she slipped out of the house and walked as though she was headed to school, knowing that Sabine was watching her. Once she was out of sight of the bakery, Marinette slipped down into one of the entrances to the metro, boarding a train that would take her as close to the airport as possible.

The flight took off on time and as the piolet managed to get them to fly in a jet stream, it was shorter than Marinette thought it would be. She was grateful for this as it let her take her time getting to the harbour so that she could board the ship that would take her to her final destination. She was nervous yet excited to be on her way to meet her soulmate. Excited because who wouldn't be? Nervous because, again, who wouldn't be? This was her soulmate after all and she had left everything familiar to her to be with them. She had no idea what they would be like or even how they would react to her just showing up out of the blue. It was times like this that she wished she could at least send a notice ahead so that they would know she was coming.

The boat ride was uneventful and she was able to pass through customs with no issues. It was only after she had cleared customs that she realised she might have a problem. She knew the way to Konoha but it was a military village and they wouldn't have any reason to trust her. She also knew that while the villages themselves were relatively safe, the roads between them weren't and she would have no protection as she made her way there. Just as she was about to start spiralling anxiously she spotted a person that had a Konoha headband on. She walked over to him quickly, making sure he saw her walking towards him and that he could see she wasn't armed.

“Excuse me!” She called to him making him pause and look at her. His blond hair and startling blue eyes so similar to her own were the some of the first things that she took note of now that she got passed the fact that he had the same symbol on his headband as her mark. She purposefully ignored the amount of orange that he was wearing!

“Yes, can I help you?” He said to her looking confused as to why she had called out to him.

“I hope so! Um, you see, well...” she paused to take a deep breath as he looked at her worriedly. “This is going to sound really stupid and I won't blame you if you tell me to leave you alone but my soulmate mark has the same symbol on its headband as the one you are wearing and I was hoping you would be able to take me to Konoha,” she rambled nervously barely stopping for breath. He smiled down at her.

“This might sound rude but I'd need to see the mark for myself before I can do anything to help you.” He scratched the back of his head, “I was meant to head to Paris to try to find a friends soulmate, I hope he won't mind the delay,” he muttered.

“Oh, um, sure. I just hope it hasn't decided to hide somewhere on my torso as I really don't want to take my shirt off.” She said with a blush which made him blush too. She put her bag on the floor between her feet then took her jacket off then checked her arms and smiled fondly. There on her forearm was her lazy Shika deer, smoking a cigarette. She shook her head in amusement.

“Smoking again? Really?”

The blond looked at the mark and started to laugh. “Well, it looks like you are the one I was sent to find. However, to be certain, what type of hobbies do you enjoy?” Marinette looked at him in confusion and hope before answering his question.

“Baking and sewing why?”

“Just needed a way to confirm that you are who I was being sent to find! Right, let me go get this ticket refunded and we can head out if you feel up to travelling today. If not we can book into a motel or something, whatever you are most comfortable with! Oh! Before I forget, I'm Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto, dattebayo!” He said with a big grin.

“I'm ok to travel today though I can't guarantee how fast I'll be able to travel.” Marinette was surprised that her soulmate was sending someone to find her, she wondered what had happened to make him do that. She knew she could be falling for a trap but something about this man told her to trust him. She was also curious about why her eyes were so similar to his she had to admit. It took an hour of waiting around for Naruto's ticket refunded and to grab something for them to eat but to Marinette, it felt like the time dragged on forever. Once that was done though, they were on the road to Konoha in next to no time at all. Marinette wished she could transform into Ladybug and use her yo-yo to travel through the trees if only to speed things up but she didn't dare. There was just no way of knowing how anyone in the elemental nations would react.

Since they were walking it took them three days to reach Konoha and in that time Marinette found Naruto to be good company. In fact, it felt like she had known him for far longer than the three days that it had been. She had a feeling Trixx would love Naruto although if Marinette was honest with herself she was reluctant to hand any of the miraculi out until she was more familiar with the country and whether or not they were needed. She was also very nervous of pairing a self-confessed Prankster King with an agent of chaos like Trixx.

On the last night of their journey to Konoha, they had started talking about family and their views on it. It had come as a surprise to her to know that Naruto was an orphan, just like he had been very surprised to know that she had been adopted and that she had absolutely no idea who her real parents were. Unknown to her that had made Naruto remember an off-handed statement by Jiraiya when he was drunk the one night. They had been talking about regrets and Jiraiya had mentioned that he wished he had managed to find out what had happened to Naruto's twin. Apparently, she had gone missing a month after their parents had died but Jiraiya had never been able to find any leads regarding where she might have gone. With Marinette knowing anything about her past and with their eyes being so similar, Naruto had to fight not to be too hopeful and to remember that she might not be his twin at all.

The wall that surrounds Konoha loomed above Naruto and Marinette as they approached the main gate. They paused for a moment so that Marinette could admire them before Naruto insisted that they carry on. Their first stop, once they had signed in at the gate, was the Hokage Tower as Naruto needed to check-in. He knew that Shikamaru would be in the office too as he was technically the client for this mission. The only reason that he could walk straight in was that he had sent a toad ahead after Marinette had fallen asleep on the first night as well as each night of their trip so that Shikamaru had time to prepare himself.

Kakashi and Shikamaru looked up from their discussion as Naruto lead Marinette into the room. To say they were surprised would be an understatement, was this Shikamaru's soulmate? She was so small! To the trained shinobi it looked like she wouldn't last a minute against an academy student. Marinette blushed when she saw the two men looking at her in a frank appraisal.

“Hi,” she said her voice almost a whisper it was so soft. All three men couldn't help but remember Hinata when she was still too shy to really talk to Naruto despite knowing they were soulmates. Kakashi looked at Shikamaru and knew that he would have to be the one to speak up.

“Yo, the name's Kakashi and I'm the Hokage here, unfortunately. Naruto says you are probably the soulmate of one of my shinobi?” Kakashi kept his voice friendly and light in the hopes of getting her to relax slightly and it seemed to work as she gave a small smile even though her shoulders were still tense. She then took her jacket off much to their surprise. They soon understood though when they saw the stag that ambled lazily down her arm then lay down as if it couldn't be bothered with all the fuss. Shikamaru glanced at the other two men before muttering “troublesome” and lighting a cigarette while leaning against the wall next to an open window. He was about to take a drag of his smoke when he glanced at the stag again and froze. The stag had a cigarette in its mouth too and Marinette was scowling

at it.

“I understand that he probably smokes to relax but seriously? I hate that habit!” Marinette muttered before looking up and blushing when she saw she was being watched again.

“Well, I think we can confirm you are Shikamaru's soulmate from that demonstration,” Kakashi chuckled. Marinette looked up sharply.

“What do you mean?”

To avoid having to explain, Shikamaru stubbed out his cigarette and took off his jacket. Almost as if it knew he wanted it to be seen, his little Ladybug came scurrying down from his shoulder to sit on his forearm. Marinette looked at it in amazement as it sat calmly letting itself be seen. Marinette smiled at the sight of it then started to giggle which had everyone in the office looking at her in confusion which only caused her to laugh even more.

“I always knew my mark would be a Ladybug,” she said while taking deep breaths to try and control her laughter. She shook her head “Sorry it's just really funny to have it confirmed.” The shinobi stared at her in utter confusion until Shikamaru shook his head.

“Troublesome,” he muttered making Marinette look at him.

“Why is knowing what my mark would be but laughing when it's confirmed troublesome?” She asked in confusion.

“It's a Nara thing, I think,” Naruto said before Shikamaru could even think to defend himself. “Every time they actually have to do anything it's always 'troublesome'. Shika has said that to almost every new situation that he encounters as well as about most people for as long as I've known him!” Marinette took a moment to marvel at just how loud Naruto was even as she processed what he had said. She was about to say something when Naruto frowned and turned to face Kakashi again.

“Sensei I would like to request a blood test be run on Marinette.” He said rather formally.

Kakashi looked surprised. “I'll grant that request on the condition I get to know what we're meant to be checking for. Do you think Marinette is sick or...?” He let his voice trail off. Marinette was about to state that she was in perfect health when Naruto blushed.

“Oh! I think I used the wrong wording there. I meant a DNA test. Before you ask why I'll explain,” he continued in a hurry. “During my three-year training trip with ero-sensei he would occasionally get really drunk and say things that he normally wouldn't. Anyway, the one evening he mentioned that I had a twin sister when I was born but that she went missing a month later and ero-sensei was unable to find her nor could he find any trace of where she might have gone. I know it might be a long shot but Marinette mentioned that she was adopted and honestly looking at her eyes is almost like looking into a mirror at my eyes.”

Silence met that last statement as everyone thought about what Naruto had said. Marinette looked at his eyes and saw what he meant. The resemblance was uncanny and with the rest of the coincidences, it stood to reason that what he said could be true! It would be amazing to find at least one member of her birth family she had to admit that she had had dreams of that happening ever since Sabine had told her she was adopted. She had to wonder if he had the Rinnegan too though or if it was just her.

Marinette had been so lost in her musings that she jumped when someone touched her arm. She looked at the person who had touched her and saw that it was a female with pink hair.

“Hi, sorry to scare you but you weren't responding when we spoke to you. My name is Sakura and I was Naruto's team-mate as well as Shikamaru's classmate. Anyway, I need to draw some blood so that we can get those tests done. I'm also going to give you the standard health check we give everyone who is new to the village just so that we have a base to work from should you ever need to see a doctor. So any injuries that are still needing to heal or anything that we should know ahead of time?”

Marinette blinked a couple of times at the barrage of words that had just been thrown at her.

“Um, yeah sure. Sorry, I guess travelling is starting to catch up with me. Injuries, um none that should be lingering but I broke my arm about six or so weeks ago so I'm being careful with it. I don't think there should be anything else...” Marinette said nervously. She didn't want to tell them about every injury she had had as Ladybug or even thanks to Lila so she kept quiet about them. She watched as Sakura's hands glowed green and she ran them over her doing a basic scan only to bite her lip as Sakura frowned.

“Well other then your body having almost as many healed injuries as Naruto you are physically fine. As you said, your arm shows signs of recent healing as do a couple of your ribs which I suspect you didn't know about as you didn't mention them. There is also some signs of recent weight loss and I hope that that was not due to dieting as you don't need to lose weight at all. I need to draw some blood now and run it down to the hospital but other than that I'm going to give you a clean bill of health. Are you able to talk about any of your previous injuries or should that be done in a more private setting? I know that it's not always easy to talk about one's past.”

Marinette closed her eyes and reviewed her knowledge of how the shinobi villages ran then took a deep breath and asked if there was a way to seal the office for privacy. Once the barrier was set up she told the others in the office her story. It took most of the day to tell them everything, from how she was chosen as Ladybug to how Chat Noir constantly pushed for a reveal as he was convinced she was his soulmate but she had never caved to his demands. She told them how it was only due to a liars influence on her parents that they even revealed that she was adopted. She even revealed the fact that she had the Rinnegan, something that she had never revealed to anyone before.

Subconsciously Marinette knew she was probably oversharing and that she needed to stop talking but now that she had started she was finding it difficult to stop. It was as though all the negative emotions and experiences had been building up for so long that although she had only meant to give them the bare bones of what had happened, by opening the bottle she had sealed everything in ever so slightly they were now all pouring out. By the time she had told them everything, her voice had grown hoarse and her eyes were red from the tears that she had shed. While she felt physically drained Marinette found that she was feeling much lighter than she had in a while, which told her just how much she had been carrying with her emotionally.

It took Marinette about five minutes of self-reflection after she had finished speaking before she realised that nobody had said anything. She slowly raised her eyes to see if anyone had left while she was talking only to be tackled by Naruto who hugged her tightly as though he was scared she would crumble into nothing if he let go. Kakashi was looking at her with pure empathy in his eyes as if what she had said had struck a chord within him. Sakura was gripping the back of a chair as if to stop herself from walking out of the door and tracking down all those that had hurt Marinette to give them a taste of their own medicine. After hesitating slightly she let her eyes land on Shikamaru. She hesitated because she didn't want to see the disgust she was sure she would see in his eyes. She didn't know him at all and he hadn't said much since she had arrived so she had no idea how he would react.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * *

Shikamaru didn't know what to think when he walked into the Hokage's office that morning. Kakashi had sent a message saying that Naruto was on his way back with a girl who he suspected was the soulmate that he had been sent out to find. He knew that Naruto must have sent the message back with one of his toads saying that they would be arriving sometime that day and if he was honest with himself, he was nervous. Who wouldn't be? Sure the girl Naruto had found might be the soulmate of someone else that lived in Konoha and not his soulmate but Shikamaru was sure if that was the case then Naruto would have sent her to Konoha with someone else.

He was glad that they hadn't arrived yet when he walked in as it gave him time to get comfortable and to try to relax. By the time Naruto walked into the office with the girl though, despite having been chatting casually to Kakashi, Shikamaru was anything but relaxed. Perhaps it was due to his training or perhaps it was simply because he was male, Shikamaru couldn't help but notice how exceptionally pretty the girl was. Petite with ravens wing black hair and eyes so blue they could rival Naruto's, a grey jacket that must have been fitted at one stage but was now slightly loose on her. She waved shyly and greeted them and Shikamaru was surprised at how timid she was. His mark had always been vivacious and the tune in his head had always been bubbly, sure it had been muted recently but the fact stood that her behaviour was a contrast to what he had been expecting.

When she revealed the shadow Shika deer soul mark wearing what was clearly a Konoha headband and Jonin flake jacket, Shikamaru found himself desperate for a cigarette so he moved to the window to indulge himself. When the others in the room started to chuckle at something he glanced over only to see that the deer had started to smoke too, only to get a muttered complaint from the girl. Sighing he killed his cigarette and made sure that his little ladybug was visible and was surprised not only by the fact that she started laughing but also by the fact that she had suspected that it would be a ladybug in the first place.

He stayed quiet for the rest of the conversation, deciding that he would rather learn more about her by observing her before he said anything, only to be thrown yet another series of curveballs. Being given a magical piece of jewellery at thirteen? Being known as a superhero? Having the Rinnegan? Being targeted by a pathological liar and having her life pretty much destroyed? How was his soulmate still sane considering she didn't have any support after her mentor had had his memory wiped? To say nothing of the injuries that Sakura had found.

It was taking Shikamaru every inch of his self-control to hold himself back from joining Naruto with his arms around her as those questions swirled around in his brain. Something of that must have been evident in his song as Marinette lifted her head then held out a hand to him which he eagerly took.

“I know I will need to go for counselling and that I can't say ''I'm OK'' without it being hollow and meaningless but I'm still alive and I made it here safely. That has to count for something, right?” Marinette said softly while looking at him.

It was that simple moment that made everything click for Shikamaru. This was his soulmate and he would need to be there for her come what may. Sure she had issues but so did he so who was he to judge? He knew that if he wanted to be with her as more then a friend he would need to work on his communication skills and she would need to work on her confidence as it had been systematically destroyed. It wasn't going to be smooth sailing but Shikamaru was confident that things would work out for the best.

A Few Years Later:

“Naomi Nara you're going to be late for school!” Marinette yelled from the kitchen where she was making breakfast. Shikamaru had come back from an S rank mission the night before and as such she was making all of his favourites.

“Honestly I think she might be worse than I ever was,” Marinette remarked to Tikki in a much quieter voice. “I know I was a nightmare to get to wake up and to school on time but Naomi takes things to the next level!”

“It's probably my influence,” a sleep roughened voice came from the doorway causing Marinette to look up and see Shikamaru looking half asleep with a giggling pair of twins in his arms. “I'm pretty sure Ino and Choji can and have told you multiple stories of what I was like at Naomi's age.”

Marinette looked at the boys in his arms so he just nodded showing that they were why he was awake instead of resting like he should be. At least he didn't have any injuries so he could still play with them without hurting himself. At six years old they were highly active which Marinette knew was their Uzumaki heritage coming through as Naruto had apparently been the same way.

Less than an hour later and the house was quiet again with all three of the kids at the academy. Marinette smiled as she walked into the bedroom and found Shikamaru half asleep on the bed. She climbed up next to him and he automatically moved to cuddle around her. Marinette smiled as she thought about how har things had come in the last few years.

“Hey, Shika?” Marinette started making him look at her curiously. “I know we said no more but, um, I'm pregnant.”

Marinette watched as all signs of sleep vanished from his face as he registered her news. She nodded slightly when his song tuned curious wanting confirmation and smiled as it turned to pure joy. Yes, life was good now, Marinette thought as he kissed her.

#miraculous ladybug #naruto #soulmates #soulmarks

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imagine-loki · 5 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 23 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

toga-honk was Norse tug-of-war.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki could hardly grasp the landscape around him. They entered the realm via woodland and walked through it for a time, when the trees became sparse, he was shocked to see that replaced them.

This was not like Jotunheim, and he did not feel the least bit comfortable in the environs. He looked first to Helbindi, who seemed to mirror his thoughts. Then he looked to Arden, who seemed to be studying his surrounds, then finally, he looked to Ella, who seemed entirely unbothered by the situation. He found himself wondering if Asgard was similar to Vanaheim and if this how she had lived before coming to Jotunheim or if she had been there enough to simply not be bothered by it. He hoped to remember to ask her later.

People stared at the Jotunn group as they made their way through the streets of the Vanir city. They gawped open-mouthed at their height and different attire, as well as staring at the blatant Aesir in the middle of the group walking in step with the shortest of the Jotnar.

Loki and the rest of the Jotnar felt entirely ill at ease with the situation. The weather was not like anything they had experienced before, though they were grateful for whatever Ella was doing to make it easier on them. He felt angry, as though people saw him as something of an amusement. When Ella caught his eye, he noted the look of understanding on her face and contemplated if this was similar to how she felt when she arrived in Jotunheim that first day. He recalled how he stared at her and indeed how others had but he had not been so obvious, had he? He recalled not caring too greatly about anything but getting it done and over with. He also recalled Ella’s words regarding being the one to go to a new realm and having to be the one to be thrown into something so different to everything you knew before, he realised then that though he had taken her words on board somewhat after that, he never really grasped the situation, not fully. He looked at her again, noting her knowing glance. She once more gave him a knowing and sympathetic look, but so too was there encouragement in it. Nodding slightly, they continued forward.

When they came to the waiting Vanir royals, Ella frowned slightly. Next to King Wilhelm and his son Nigel was Thor. Her brother never came to Vanaheim for Ostara, the truth was he did not think it an interesting time to go to Vanaheim and the guise was that he would tend to Asgard as his mother, father and sister attended the festival. This, she felt, did not bode too well for her day. She walked forward with Loki, who she knew was also wondering why her brother was there. They said nothing until they reached the Vanir royals.

“Prince Loki, Prince Helibindi of Jotunheim, welcome to Vanaheim. It is an immense pleasure to have you as our honoured guests for this Ostara.” King Wilhelm declared.

“King Wilhelm,” Loki bowed, Ella and the Jotnar following his lead. “We thank you for your gracious invitation. My father, sadly, is not in the greatest of health, he wished he could make it. He mentioned something about owing you a game of toga-honk, I believe he called it.”

The Vanir King erupted in laughter at the mention of the sport. “Norns, but I said it before and I’ll say it again, that Jotunn has a long memory.” He looked at Ella. “And my sister’s daughter, Norns, but who do you look like?”

“Myself, King Wilhelm, and such a fine person to look like whilst I do.” Ella smiled proudly.

“You are a peculiar mix of cultures.” He indicated to her attire, very much coloured and designed in the Jotnar manner but almost as covering as Aesir attire would be. There was also so Vanir in the belt she wore around her waist.

“Well, we have four thousand or so years to get used to me looking like them, so perhaps they will not be so peculiar after a time, or so I hope.” She kept her tone jovial, but it was clear that Ella was not overly pleased by the slightly rude implications of her uncle’s comments. “Brother.” She gave Thor a small curtsy.

“Sister.” Thor bowed slightly in return. “You recovered well, I see. Though, I told Father you cannot be killed so easily.” Though his comment was jestful to his sister, there was no denying there was a wary and some bit of a warning glare to Loki as he did so.

Loki, for his part, maintained eye contact with the Aesir prince. Ella had forgiven him and chosen to work on a marriage with him, after that, he felt he had to reason to hold onto the past or feel guilty for it. She told him she would not do so, so that was what truly mattered in his opinion.

“No, of course not. I told him similarly. By any chance, are Mother and Father here?”

“No, Father fell into Odinsleep not too long ago and is only now recovering, so I am here in his stead, Mother is tending to the matters of the realm.”

Ella frowned. She thought she would be informed if Odin would fall into an Odinsleep at the very least. She took solace in knowing it could not be too serious if Thor was sent and he was awake already.“ She felt some semblance of guilt for it also, as she knew him giving her Gungnir as she recovered would have added to his weakening. “Well, so long as he is awake.”

“Now that everyone is caught up, how about we show our guests to their rooms?” King Wilhelm suggested.

Ella and Loki looked at the bed in front of them, both pondering the same thing.

“I can conjure another,” Ella suggested. “Just remind me to hide it during the day. The last thing we need is maids gossiping about us and suggesting that there is something foul afoot with us. Nigel is, what is commonly referred to as a ‘shit-stirrer’ and would love to declare to one and all that you and I cannot even share quarters without issue.”

Loki considered her words. “He is not the heir, is he. I don’t recall him being referenced before.”

“Nigel? Norns no, he is Wilheim’s fifth son, he will never see the throne. No, his heir is Frederick. Frederick is about two and a half, if not three thousand now, two sons of his own. No, he will be a good king, a good ally to have, he knows a time from before the war, where we were all allies. I will warn you, Nigel thinks Jotnar an unevolved race. Warn Helbindi and the others of it. He would have no greater pleasure than to make us embarrass ourselves while we are here to ‘prove’ his bigoted opinion. Just ignore him, his own father and brother think little of his opinions. I am not sure why he came to welcome us, but nonetheless.”

Loki noted her use of ‘us’ when referencing the Jotnar grouping. “Do you require a separate bed?”

She eyed him questioningly. “Not specifically. I am not overly big and I do not take much space.”

“Then let us not give them any reason to talk, we both will have a side and that way, if any of their staff come in, none will think anything of it.”

Ella nodded. “Good idea.” She looked at the bed. “I am taking the side closer to the window.”

“Why?” Loki looked at her, startled.

“Because I called it first.”

“I am the older.”

“That works in the case of siblings, but not here. I called it, so it is mine.” She smirked and walked over to the side she chose.

Loki simply looked back at her with a raised brow.

“I owe you an apology.” Ella looked at her husband startled at the random statement that night as they prepared for bed after spending the evening with the Vanir and their other guests. “I thought I could comprehend your situation.”

“It’s been one evening.” She shook her head. “One evening and you think you know. No, it gets worse, because of course, you get to go back to your home after this, not make a new one here. That was the hardest part for me. Saying goodbye to my rooms, the furnishings I knew my whole life, the staff that raised me, my maids, my friends. I had to leave them all, for good. But you see now what I meant when I said it is difficult to realise you feel you might make a fool of yourself or do not belong when all others know something you do not?”

Loki thought of the times through the night when different Vanir men and women spoke to them of different matters to do with Vanaheim and he had no idea what they were referencing, yet Ella did. He nodded. “Thank you, for your interjections.” He referenced the few times people spoke to him on matters he knew nothing of and Ella inserted herself to the conversation in a manner that implied she and Loki had discussed it between themselves before, saying something that clearly was a good idea by the reactions that said statement received and claiming it to be Loki’s opinion.

“It is not easy. Now that you see, perhaps when I am wrong on some matter from now on, you understand it is not always easy and assist me accordingly?” She looked at him hopefully.

Loki gave a smile in response. “I will most certainly strive to.”

“We are not too bad a pairing, once you get passed the millennium of being raised to loathe one another.”

Loki chuckled, “Yes, apart from that.” He looked at her as she used her seidr to undo her hair. “You were upset by the Allfather and Allmother not being here?”

“I hoped to see her. I suspect they assume I will not get homesick if I see Thor, it is difficult to miss anywhere he is.” She did not look at him.

Loki thought of how he did not like being on the foreign realm, especially without his father, but he knew in a few days they would return to Jotunheim, where his father would insist in speaking with him at length. “I’m sorry.”

“It is not your doing.” She toyed with her hair. “Blasted pins.”

“Why do you do that if you loathe it so greatly?”

“Married Aesir women must not have loose hair.”

“Used you have it loose before?” Loki asked, curious as to how she would look with loose hair.

“Most of the time, yes.”

“In Jotunheim, hair is not really a thing.”

Ella smiled. “I noticed. You do yours well though. If no other has hair, how did you learn to do this?” She walked over and indicated to the braiding on one side.

“One of the teachers my father got to teach me of Asgard. He showed me.”

“It suits you.”

“What used you have your hair like?”

“Like yours, really, just a little different.” She barely even thought about it and it went loose as she used to have it, a small braid over her face to keep her hair off it. “Wow, I had not realised it had gotten this long, I will have to cut it.”

“Don’t.” She looked at Loki, unsure why he would say that. “It suits you so much better like this.”

Ella blushed slightly at his words.

#loki #others #Submitted fic #submission #wolfpawn #chapter 23 #Pride and Prejudice

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sicklyscribe · 5 years ago

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y’all thought I forgot about this one

a good (3) of you really wanted this meta and well. It’s been like. Four years? Anyways.

‘Stolen Dance’ was on the radio today and it makes me think of Klaus and Care, because I get it mixed up with ‘Dangerous’ and that’s my song for them. Also, Stolen Dance has a line that I THOUGHT was ‘Stolen Paradise’ and it’s ACTUALLY ‘stoned in paradise’ so I USED to get K/C vibes from that. Anyways. Whenever I think of that ship I think of @hairzier, and I remembered that I had given her a teaser of this meta a while back. Before I got home, I had FINALLY constructed a thesis (wow amy what a nerd) for this analysis that I’d tried to write FOREVER ago, but it didn’t have a central focus and it was way too bogged down with me trying to find one as I went along.

Don’t know what the hell I’m talking about?

The meta is this: Klaus as an artist + Klaus’ relationships with three featured women in his life circa 2010′s. If you came to the fandom late or haven’t ever seen my username, hi, I used to write a ton of TO meta, I Don’t Do Ships Really At All For It. At least, not the ‘big’ ones. I digress. Just -- don’t expect me to bash or gush over any ship, I’m gonna compliment and critique them all. Please avoid or read on accordingly <3

Caroline: The Art

I tried to find my write-up for Sahar from ages ago, because it was clear and concise and exactly what I intended. Oh well. Once more.

Shippers and Antis pretty much love it and hate it for the same reason: Klaus is so different around her. Well, that and it’s either empowering for Caroline or abusive. Depends on perspective. I am firmly in the camp that every relationship in Klaus’ life during this time period is abusive in some way. What he does to Caroline is particularly messed up, but also particularly kind, in turns. The lightness and puppy-love-ness of Klaus around her was so jarring, is so jarring, because he doesn’t display that behavior for anyone else. He allows himself to be foolishly partial to her, but he also seems to only have selective guilt for the horrors he subjects her to. As a viewer who will bend over backwards to create complexity rather than label something ‘bad writing’, I found that Klaus’ relationships, especially with women, especially with Caroline, are steeped in his relationship with art.

To Klaus, Caroline is an exquisite work of living art. Pleasing to the eye, challenging to his thoughts, but benign -- safe, and static. More than wanting to ‘own’ her, though, I believe he wants to join her. Make himself into something that compliments her colors and her lines, because the experience of interacting with art is one of the purest joys Klaus knows. In this way, he intimately analyzes her life and feelings, he inserts himself into her narrative, he plays a part that he enjoys -- maybe one, at times, he truly wishes was not a performance. In this way, he adores her, he respects her, but not really as a person, and certainly not as an equal. He values every moment with her, treasures it; lets himself get drunk on it. She’s the Mona Lisa, living, breathing, and bold enough to insult him to his face. When she breaks the frame he makes for her -- when she really challenges him in ways only a person can -- he can only retreat, and lash out.

And ask for forgiveness with acts of kindness, or material value (he even, incredibly, uses his art to soften her to him, on more than one occasion) -- trying to shift her attention as if she can forget his abuses. In all: he wants her to enrich his life, not change it.

Hayley: The Clay

(Or the canvas, or materials, or what have you.)

One of Hayley’s first scenes with Klaus sets her up as a direct foil to Caroline:

Klaus: Painting is a metaphor for control. Every choice is mine-- the canvas, the color. As a child, I had neither a sense of the world nor my place in it, but art taught me that one's vision can be achieved with sheer force of will. The same is true of life, provided one refuses to let anything stand in one's way.

Hayley: So this is your thing-- show a girl a few mediocre paintings, whine about your childhood, and I swoon and spill all my dirty secrets?

Hayley doesn’t want to see him as a person. Klaus doesn’t really want to see her as a person, either. Eventually, he learns that he has to respect her as a mother, at least, or he will not deserve his daughter. Eventually, he learns to see her as family. But at the core, and I don’t think he ever loses this -- he sees Hayley as his work-in-progress. Potential. Not only to be a strong ally, but to be -- just maybe -- an equal.

Which is annoying for him, because she also happens to be the only person he cannot reliably control, or predict. His only choice is to try to shape her into someone that he can work with. That someone is himself, mostly, but with some key improvements. His tone with her is so often instructive, mentor-ly, a thin veneer above his need for her to be someone he doesn’t have to worry about, damn it! He can understand her so why can’t he control her!

This kicks into gear, mostly, after Hayley’s transformation. She estranges herself from Elijah, somewhat, and Klaus does not interfere with her spiral into blood and rage because it’s part of the process. He sees himself in her, but not like he saw himself in Marcel. His perspective on Marcel was so tied to fatherhood that he was trying to raise a young Klaus, while in Hayley’s case, he is trying to sculpt her in his image.

His advice on how to deal with rage, vengeance, and wildness is sincere and from personal experience. His advice on what to do about love? Well, certainly stay with Elijah while it’s convenient for me, but don’t let love blind you to what you need. What we need. What I need. Don’t tell Jackson you slept with my brother -- honesty won’t keep this vital political alliance strong. Don’t forget you’re one of us now. It’s what I would do.

I guess you could even say that Hayley, while pregnant, was a very different kind of work-in-progress for Klaus that made it near-impossible for him to see her as anything but a thing meant to be changed or cause change. Art, unfinished, and his.

Camille: The Critic

All of these relationships are unique and powerful in their own ways. I admit I’m partial to the poetry of this one, the radicalness of this one, but again, I don’t really ship it as a romance? Maybe I do, now that I’ve had time away from it, but I don’t ‘stan’ it as ‘otp’.

This one is obvious. Their ‘art’ scene is straightforward, and kind of cliche. A woman watches a street artist fill a huge canvas. Another passerby notices, and stops to ask her what she thinks. She floors him with her response -- so insightful, so bold, and so compassionate. The clever bartender that Marcel has a crush on just so happens to be a psychologist -- and, he learns later, with a particular, personal empathy for violent and cruel offenders.

He feels a unique desire to be seen by her, and to be considered by her, in his entirety. Not that he does not want to control what she knows -- obviously -- but that he does not want to put on a single, convenient mask with her to accomplish his ends. He wants to be known, and he wants to know what she thinks of him.

Again, he does not want any of this to touch him, or change him, really. He begins his Gallery Of Self not by making a therapy appointment but by ‘hiring’ (forcing) her to transcribe his biography (and making her forget everything she knows the moment she leaves his sight). This is safe, and it lets him bring out the masks and the goals and the good and the ugly of him and air them for her reaction. Will he, too, be worthy of empathy?

Yes. But he’s also worthy of critique. Eventually, he takes baby steps to allowing her to impact his life (to varying degrees throughout all seasons that, in my opinion, make for a shamefully circular set of arcs on the writers’ parts. The point is I saw where they were trying to go with it, and letting Drama of the Week get in the way). Eventually, he makes real appointments. Tells himself he needs to change, somewhat, for Hope’s sake.

And Camille is the kind of strong, confident woman he can imagine Hope to someday resemble. He wants his daughter to be free from the cycles of Mikaelson abuse, and he wants her to know goodness and have no reason to be evil. And if he is to do that, and if he is to know that Hope, then someone like Camille should be able to look at him and deem him capable. Worthy. Warts and all. He’ll spend time with her because he likes her, because he’s attracted to the beauty in her heart (like Caroline!) -- but he opens himself to her scrutiny because for once in his life he knows he has to change for the better. He knows he has to get help, and, well, the clever bartender seemed to fall into his life at exactly the right time to take in all of his decades and all of his deeds -- piece by piece, movement by movement, style by style, and understand them. Critique them. Maybe with that in mind he can make himself into a work that he can one day show to Hope.

With that in mind, I can’t help but have a soft spot for those cheesy lines from the very first episode.

Klaus: Do you paint?

Cami: No, but I admire. Every artist has a story, you know.

Klaus: And what do you suppose his story is?

Cami: He's...angry. Dark. Doesn't feel safe and doesn't know what to do about it. He wishes he could control his demons instead of having his demons control him. He's lost. Alone.

Cami: Or maybe he just drank too much tonight. Sorry. Overzealous Psych major.

Klaus: No. I think you were probably right the first time.

@florafaunaandeldritchhorrors @ptonkin @furrydolphin @jungshoook (DID YOU ABANDON THE KLEBEKAH URL REDIRECT????? MOM??????!?!!?!??!?!??!?!!?!!?!??! I JUST CHECKED AND IT’S NOT THERE ANYMORE???? I NEED TO *MOURN* AND YOU JUST DIDN’T *TELL* US??!)

#art in the originals is the ship I stan #anamysis #WOW GUYS LOOK I ACTUALLY DID IT #i could probably add in Aurora to this but hey give me like 2 years okay #no tags this is Special Edition Members Only Content #i wrote this in 1 hour and i've been sitting on this concept for...............longtime #granted the original version would have had a TON more line-by-line analysis but HEY you GET WHAT YOU GET #i seriously didn't realize the Cami section is longer I promise it's not some sort of Sign #it's just I was trying to write this fast and 1. couldn't remember specific Hayley scenes to reference #and 2. I pretty much copy/pasted a lot of my Cami & Hope meta discussions wholesale into this one soooooo more to work with more to write #and 3. I already wrote the caroline one like two other times before this and I kind of felt like I hit the stuff I Really Cared About #in not a lot of words

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