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dumdumsun · 2 years ago

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To Nightfall

A/N: Enjoy!

Warnings: violence, alcohol, mentions of violence and death

Word Count: 3824

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Chapter 9: Kindest Cut

Harlan marched down the halls of the hotel, headed straight for his room. Viktor was right on his heels, firing questions about the murders of his and his siblings’ mothers. “How do you know our mothers? What did you do to them?”

“Tapes. I need my tapes.” Harlan burst into his room.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

They stumbled into the room and raced each other to the open suitcase. Viktor got to it first and shut it. “No. Not until you tell me the truth.”

“I could tear you to atoms.” Harlan hissed.

“Try it.”

Their skin and eyes began to glow with their orange and blue energy as they charged up their powers, unknowingly shaking every object and flickering every light within the hotel before they released their energy, blasting each other back. They both smacked into the wall across from each other and slid to the floor. Bits of debris from the ceiling fell onto them as they groaned in pain. The room fell silent as they caught their breath and felt the wounds they gave each other.

“Why?” Viktor broke the silence.

Harlan groaned. “It was an accident.”

“Twenty-seven dead women is not an accident!”

“You’re supposed to understand. Mom-”

“Don’t bring Sissy into this.”

“She swore you’d come back to us,” He desperately explained. “Make things right again. So, I waited for years. You never did. And on the day she died… I felt you again. Here.” His voice broke as he pointed to his head. “And I reached out. It wasn’t you.”

Viktor blinked back tears. “It was our mothers. You connected to them.”

“They were terrified about something… growing in them. I… I could feel their pain. Their screams were so loud, like a storm in my head tearing me apart. I tried to break the connection. I… I… couldn’t. It was too late. I pushed back.” He sighed at Viktor’s pained look. “After that, I just hid myself away. Just to be safe. Until now.”

With nothing else left to say, the two waited for the sun to rise in silence as particles from the ceiling floated throughout the room like embers from a flame.

In a different room, about half an hour later, (Y/N) awoke in her bed. Reaching her hand out, she hummed in dissatisfaction when she felt the cold sheets below her hand. Just in case he had come back during the night, she had left one side of the bed open for Five, but to her dismay, he was still gone.

Peeling herself out of bed, (Y/N) went to the dresser she had stored her new clothes in and pulled a pair of grey trousers, the same color corset and a blue satin button up. She went to run her fingers through her hair and momentarily forgot about her shortened length. She rolled her shoulders back, pleased with the lifted weight.

(Y/N) looked into the mirror at the dresser and sighed at the red marks on her face. It wasn’t as bad as it was the day before and it was certainly fading, but it was still adding to the collection she already had. To make herself feel a little better, she did up her eyes and applied some lip gloss, taking notes from her older self. Changing yourself took time. So, she was taking her time.

Down the hall, Viktor watched as Harlan silently organized his case before closing and latching it, hugging it to his chest. He sighed when Viktor’s gaze never left him. “I’m not a fool, Viktor. I always knew my life was gonna be hard, but… never like this. Never gonna hurt anyone. Ever. That part’s not me. That’s-”

“That’s me.” Viktor murmured, his mind wandering to a time when he gave his sister the scar on her throat, and his other sister the scars on her face, when he killed a beloved family friend. “That’s kinda my thing. I’ve hurt a lot of people with my power. And I am just so sorry you were one of them.”

Harlan nodded and sniffled. “I need to tell your family what I did to them.”

“No, no.” Viktor stopped him when he moved to stand. “Harlan, what you did had bigger consequences, and people I love got hurt. So, we have to be very careful how we tell them.”

“Consequences?” His eyes turned slightly frightened. “Like what?”

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

At the Academy that morning, Fei and Ben were having a talk as they walked about the house. “They handed over the bodies, we got what we wanted. Why do we need this old guy?”

Ben irritably scratched besides his eyes. “‘Bodies’? You mean Jayme and Alphonso, our siblings. Or have you already forgotten about them?”

“No, you know what I meant.”

“We need to punish their killer.”

“Revenge can wait.”

“Until when?”

“Until we deal with that thing in the basement.” She said as the two entered the parlor where (Y/N) sat on one of the sofas. “It’s getting stronger everyday. People from all over the world are disappearing now. We need to work together with the Umbrellas.”

Ben stopped their walk. “The man who killed our siblings is an outsider. Neither Sparrow nor Umbrella. He needs to be dealt with before we can merge the families.”

“And if they refuse? How do we save the world?”

(Y/N) looked up from her cuticles she was pushing back. “The world’s ending?”

Fei scoffed and walked out of the room. “You tell her.”

When she was gone, Ben sighed and sat beside his sister. The two sat in a comfortable silence for a bit as she went back to her nails. Ben noticed, though, that in the thirty seconds they sat together, (Y/N) was just stabbing the same area in her fingernail over and over while staring right past her hand.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“Shouldn’t you be… resting? You were shot in the stomach yesterday.”

She dropped the object in her hand and rested her hands on her bare legs. The silence continued as smoothed out her black mini skirt and then adjusted the sleeves of her red shirt. She was going into her usual habits when she was hiding something.

Ben stood to his feet. “Have you eaten today?”

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. I-I did. I ate tonight.”

“Today.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Go take a nap. You’re clearly not in the right frame of mind right now. Go on.” He motioned her out of the room, closely watching as she slowly made her way up the stairs to the bedrooms, twisting her bracelet on her wrist all the while.

“What the hell is going on with you, (Y/N)?” Ben whispered to himself.

At the Hotel Obsidian, Luther was making his way to the lobby when Viktor ran up to him from the elevator he had just exited from. “Hey,” He called out. “You seen Allison?”

Luther turned around, brows furrowing in worry at the long cut on his brother’s cheek. “What the hell happened?”

“It’s, uh… It’s not as bad as it looks.” He felt his cheek.

“It looks as if you’re lucky to be upright. Did Harlan do that?”

Viktor defensively shook his head. “We just got in a disagreement.”

“About what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

In walked Diego from the front of the lobby, flipping a knife in his hand. “So, I just checked the perimeter. We’re good. Now, we’re gonna have to take turns.”

Luther gasped and turned Diego to view the nasty cut along the back of his neck, the skin around it an angry red. “Oh, my god! What happened to you? Was it Harlan?”

“What?”

“The Sparrows are right. He shouldn’t be here. He’s dangerous.”

“He’s only dangerous because I made him that way,” Viktor said. “This is my problem, and I appreciate your concern, but I’m gonna figure it out. I’m gonna fix it.”

Allison walked in from the elevator, her bottom lip busted and a bruise on one of her cheekbones. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, my god.” Luther gaped. “He got you, too?”

She ignored him and turned to Viktor. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

“Never better.”

And finally, yet again from the elevator, (Y/N) stepped out and joined her siblings. “Do any of you know where Five is?”

Luther scoffed and gently turned her face so he could see her injury. “Oh, for god’s sake, is he going after the whole family?!”

“What?” She moved his hand away.

“(Y/N), where have you been?” Allison asked. “You’ve been gone for two nights.”

“I came back last night. I just didn’t tell any of you because I had one hell of a day yesterday.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Now before I explain anything, does anyone know where my husband is?”

On cue, an electricity crackled from beside them, a blue light swirling with it. From that light popped out Five and Lila, crashing into a small shelf and breaking it to pieces before hitting the ground. The two groaned out in pain as everyone stared in shock.

“Shit…” Five started to roll away.

“Shoo!” Lila shoved him away when she realized they were touching.

“Where have you been?” Viktor asked as Five got to his feet.

“Facing my mortality, Viktor. I don’t recommend it.” He grunted and turned to see (Y/N), his face melting into a soft look as he went straight up to her. “Hey…”

She grinned and grabbed his face, bringing him into a sweet kiss. He moved his lips with hers as he crushed her body into his. God, he missed her so much…

When she pulled away, she giggled at the way he chased her lips and took a moment to stare into his beautiful eyes. “I missed you. I didn’t know you were leaving.”

Five frowned. “None of our numb-headed siblings told you?” She shook her head and he sighed, caressing the side of her face. “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“And got a couple new scars. What happened?”

She let out a breath and moved her hands from his face to his shoulders. “I went for some, uh… soul-searching.” She grinned and quirked her brows.

“Soul-searching, hm?” He hummed, pleasantly delighted by her stunning smile. “What’d you find?”

Her grin widened as she twisted the hair at the nape of his neck with her fingers, sending a shiver through him. “I found me. Just me.”

“I’m glad.” He pecked her lips.

“Five!” Allison snapped them out of their heaven on earth. “Have you not been hearing me? What happened to the briefcase?!”

Five furrowed his brows and looked at the dented and smoking briefcase on the ground. “Oh, yeah… That’s toast. Shit.” He mumbled, Allison scoffing and storming over to the stairs, taking a seat to calm her rage.

Luther pulled Diego away from Lila. “Excuse me. One second.” He smiled at her before looking towards Allison with a worried expression. “Did you and Allison get into some kinda fight last night?” He whispered.

“Hell yes!” Diego whispered back. “We kicked some serious ass last night.”

“What the hell’s gotten into this family?”

“I don’t know, but it’s awesome,” He grinned in the direction of his sister, who silently sat alone, staring into one space with wild eyes. “Swear to god, I’ve never seen her do things like she did yesterday. She was brutal. It’s fine. You know, just needed to blow some steam off. I helped. She’s good.”

Luther looked away from Allison, who was seeming anything but fine. “Oh, yeah. Real good.”

“Hey,” Five called out to his brothers, an arm slung around (Y/N)’s waist. “Chatty Cathys, quit the chitchat, alright? I’m calling a family meeting here.”

At that, Lila began to walk away, but Diego grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back. “Ah, ah, ah. That means you, too.”

“Where’s Klaus?” Five asked, receiving shrugs in answer. By the elevator, Diego spotted Stanley looking very suspicious, so he excused himself and ran out of the room. “Dieg- Lost another. Great.”

Allison moved her eyes up to her brother. “Spit it out, Five.” She snarled.

(Y/N) grew uneasy at that.

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely, sister o’ mine, our little paradox brought forth a freaking Kugelblitz.” He leaned forward in frustration.

“A what?” (Y/N) raised her brows.

“What the hell is a Kugelblitz?”

Before he explained everything, Five led his family to the bar and made drinks for everyone, suggesting they all get one for what he was about to say. (Y/N) stood beside him on the other side of the bar across from their family. He had just passed the last drink to Viktor, who decided to voice his question. “So, this Kugelblitz, it’s…?”

Five leaned against the bar and held his wife’s hand that rested on his arm. “The end of everything. Every rock, every star, every atom sucked into a radiant black hole.”

“Randomly collapsing matter every moment in time across all existence till nothing’s left.” Lila added.

“Hate to say I told you so, but…”

Viktor scoffed. “You love to say I told you so.”

(Y/N) groaned and downed her shot, filling up her glass again and downing that right after, grimacing at the burn in her chest. “Have we thought of who exactly killed your moms? I mean, it has to be someone who absolutely hates the Umbrella Academy.”

Viktor shook his head. “No, we don’t know that.”

Allison raised a brow at her sister. “But they also have to love you for your mom to still be alive, right? Like Dad? Besides, it doesn’t matter who created it, we just have to kick its ass. Or in this case, Dad’s ass.”

“Yeah, except that it’s not Dad. He’s in no shape to kill anyone.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And how the hell would you know?”

“Because Allison, I talked to him yesterday.” Everyone stared at her and voiced their shock. She threw back another shot and waved them off. “Okay, okay, yeah, after I was kidnapped and forced to have a sleepover with myself, I convinced her to let me talk to Dad. Trust me when I tell you, he hasn’t killed anyone.”

“You were kidnapped by the Sparrows, too?” Luther widened his eyes.

“Oh, you, too? Small world.” She chuckled and took the bottle from Five, drinking straight from it. “So, yeah, we can rule him out.”

Five sighed and moved the alcohol away from his wife. “The best plan is to go back in time and eliminate the paradox and destroy whatever it was that took out our mothers and stop the Kugelblitz before it starts, but we can’t do that. Briefcase is kaput.”

“And why the hell can’t you just jump us out of here?” Allison asked.

“Last time I tried that, we all got trapped in time. Do you really wanna risk that again?”

Viktor sighed. “So, what’s plan B?”

Just then, Diego rejoined the family, bringing along Klaus and Stan with him. Klaus went straight to the alcohol and took it from Five. They all noticed that he was a bit disheveled, a large and faded red dot stained in the chest of his shirt.

“What happened to you, Klaus?” (Y/N) asked.

“Oh, speargun to the chest. No big deal. Did you ever find out who that ominous shadow was that was following you, sister dear?”

“Yeah, it kidnapped me.”

“Ooh, scary.”

Five whirled on his wife in bewilderment. “That’s where you went?! To follow a stalker?!”

(Y/N) nervously chuckled and shrugged as Diego approached Lila. “What did we miss?”

Lila smiled at him. “The universe is ending, and we’re all going to die.”

As soon as the words left her lips, the same rush of energy that had been making its rounds blew through the hotel, taking out everyone in the lobby besides the group at the bar. Everyone jumped with a start.

“What the hell was that?!”

“That was a Kugel wave.” Five answered Diego’s question. “Oh, it’s getting worse.”

“How long do we have?” Luther asked.

“At this rate of escalation, if you factor in-”

“How long, Five?!”

He hesitated. “Four, maybe five days before the rest of existence is blitzed.”

(Y/N) held her head in frustration. Another countdown, another possibility of her or someone she loves dying. In this case, any of them could go at any time. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was the timeline she was supposed to get used to, not the one she needed to run away from. When she saw Allison shakily walk away from the group, she decided to follow her.

“We should’ve given them Harlan.” Luther sighed.

“Luther.” Viktor whispered.

“What about Harlan?” Diego straightened.

Luther glanced at Viktor before answering. “The Sparrows said if we turned him over, we could end the fighting, and then work together to save the world. But if we didn’t-”

“But we tried to make peace,” Viktor cut him off. “Okay, and then the step-siblings from hell attacked, kidnapped you and (Y/N), and they tried to kill us. I mean, come on. We can’t trust them. Working together would be like trying to defuse a bomb by pouring gas on it. It’s only gonna make things burn down faster.”

Klaus raised his hand. “But don’t we need the big bad glow-y thing in their basement?”

They watched with furrowed brows as their brother casually went back to drinking. “Klaus, do you know where the Kugelblitz is?” Five asked.

“Oh, yeah. I saw it.” He dramatically gasped. “When I went to visit Dad. It’s in the old storage room where Mom used to keep all our luggage.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?!” Diego frowned.

“I did- I told you!”

“You say stupid shit all the time!”

“Of course,” Five whispered. “It appeared in the same place we did…”

Away from the growing Hargreeves argument, another one was brewing when (Y/N) found Allison hiding behind one of the pillars, breathing deeply. “Hey, Ally… You okay?”

“Does it look like I’m okay right now, (Y/N)?” She snapped. (Y/N) took a step back. “You know, right now, I don’t wanna hear shit you have to say about how we’ll get through this, how I need to push through, how you know how I’m feeling because even in a third apocalypse, you still have your husband! There is no way you can know how I’m feeling right now because you haven’t lost shit!”

(Y/N) clenched her jaw and her fists as she tried to keep her anger at bay. The absolute nerve of her sister.

“So, what?” She shrugged. “We can talk once Five dies? Do I need to lose everything for my feelings to be validated, Allison? I lost both my kids and my mom in the same day! I’ve had more to lose than you and I lost it all! Twice!”

She lowered her voice a bit, not wanting to cause a big scene. “My husband and my siblings are all I have left. And I came over here because we’re all you have now. But you know what? I’m not gonna stand here and try to help a hopeless case. I’m going back to people who are actually treating me like a decent fucking human being!” She didn’t wait for a reaction before she stormed away and joined her family near the entrance.

It seemed that everyone had gotten there the same time she did and were now waiting for either Luther or Viktor to speak. Viktor avoided their gazes and looked up at Luther. “He didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“Really? You mean, when he did this?” Luther pointed to his brother’s cheek.

“Wait, Harlan did that?” Five worried.

“That’s it, I’m gonna end him.” Diego growled.

Viktor held his hands up. “Look, I know how it looks, but Harlan didn’t ask for this. If we hadn’t gone back to 1963, if I hadn’t saved him-”

“He killed Jayme and Alphonso, not you.” Luther pointed out. “He’s the reason we’re in this mess, and he’s our only wait out of it.”

“Luther’s right.” Five sighed. “If we’re gonna have an iota of a chance of getting out of this alive, we need access to the Kugelblitz.”

Viktor shrugged. “There’s only five of them left. We can just overpower them.”

“What, and risk losing some of us in the process? Harlan is insignificant.”

“You told me once that no one is insignificant.” He turned to his family with teary eyes. “They’ll kill him.”

(Y/N) did feel for Harlan. Just a few days ago, he was a scared little kid to them. And now they had to decide whether he should live or not for the fate of the world. At everyone’s hesitancy, Lila spoke up. “Uh… so? We are talking about one person versus saving billions of lives here. I mean, is this really a debate for you people?”

“Hey, Little Britain?” Viktor glared. “You don’t get a vote.”

“Lila lives in this universe, too,” Klaus defended. “Besides, she’s family now. Kinda, sorta.”

“Oh, thanks, kitten…”

“I don’t give a shit about the Sparrows,” Diego firmly spoke. “But I’m not gonna let scary-ass Grandpa finish you off.”

Viktor spoke (Y/N)’s mind right then. “Five days ago, he was just a little kid. And what? Now I’m supposed to just decide whether he lives or dies?”

“Viktor, we’re down to ethics triage here, alright?” Five gently said. “We can’t save everyone. The kindest cut wins.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms and finally decided to voice her opinion. “The problem with sacrifice, Viktor, is that it benefits no one but whoever is taking. And we… are never taking. We’re constantly giving up everything. And it sucks. But we can’t think about ourselves in this situation.”

Viktor sadly looked away as Luther stepped closer to him. “You always wanted to be on the team. This is what it is. Saving the world means making the hard calls.”

“I hate this…”

“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, heart breaking at Viktor's defeated look. “I’ll go get him.”

Just as Luther passed him, Viktor stopped him. “Wait, no. Let me do it. He trusts me. I can convince him to come quietly.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, Viktor gently smiling at the kiss his “little” sister gave him on his injured cheek before heading up the stairs. (Y/N) sighed and turned to Five as everyone dispersed. “You look like you had something else to say.” He whispered.

“I hate it, too, you know. We all do. I just need this to work out for us,” She tiredly rubbed her face as Five pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sick of losing worlds.”

He sighed into her hair. “Me, too, Starlight… Me, too.”

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wh6res · 4 years ago

Text

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person.

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve.

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun.

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings.

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll.

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections.

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to.

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail.

but you weren’t as lucky today.

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin.

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you.

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing.

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too.

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale.

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you.

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn.

she reminds you of yourself.

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck.

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job.

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again.

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you.

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine.

you look over your shoulder.

no one’s there.

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way.

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding.

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night.

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea.

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government.

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted.

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes.

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin.

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight.

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force.

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud.

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green.

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak.

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer.

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them.

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?”

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape.

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent.

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries?

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life.

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake.

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls.

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault.

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house.

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day.

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless.

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate.

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can.

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside.

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again.

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice.

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there.

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with.

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan.

you almost collapse against the brick wall.

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose.

until you saw who it was.

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday.

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try.

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma.

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down.

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times.

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left.

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes.

three times you’ve cheated death.

but time is up and your luck has run out.

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch.

naeun is nowhere to be seen.

good.

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare.

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience.

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it.

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket.

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances.

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper.

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you.

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder.

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you.

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings.

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you.

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke.

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone.

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath.

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase.

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium).

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin.

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them.

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory.

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball.

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

taglist !!

@hoeartchoke @donghyukcore @stopknot @greenish-taro @zhongriot @lmaoskz @zephyr-abyss @anonymous-stuff @josuke8 @jaemotel @winwiniee @dundun-baby @nakamotocore @hcwurld @alaeddis @recs-for-later @jaehyunssslut

wanna be added to my taglist? click here!

‎

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #renhyuck scenarios #renhyuck imagines #haechan imagines #renjun imagines #yandere haechan #yandere renjun #purge au #purge au nct dream #tw bullying #tw violence #tw purge au

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luxekook · 4 years ago

Text

when fire meets frost | kth

as part of the christmas with bangtan: secret santa collab

❅ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

❅ genre: second chance romance, exes to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

❅ summary: just like a bad holiday song, you gave taehyung your heart last christmas. only in this scenario, he broke it eight months later. now you’re both back at that same damn holiday party where you first met one year ago and you’re just praying for you and your heart to leave in one piece.

❅ word count: 5.8k

❅ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive comments, drinking, DIY mistletoe, light violence, random ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ references, drunk tae (TM), break-up flashbacks, weird humor, hella tension, hella groveling, making out, smut [oral (m to f)], the fluffiest of fluff (borderline cheese...actually...full-on cheese)

❅ banner by: the almighty and powerful maggie @kimtaehyunq - who also is the collab host!

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 8:00PM

Taehyung is staring at you. Again. Though you're facing slightly away from him, you know that if you give even the slightest glance over, your suspicions will all but be confirmed. The heated gaze you feel skimming over your body continues as you take a much needed sip of your mulled wine and pray that you get out of his line of vision soon with your dignity still intact.

Seokjin, your best friend and current partner in conversation, notices your predicament and scoffs, “You really should just put that boy out of his misery, (y/n). Scrooge himself would be down to have a foursome with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future if he was around all this pent-up sexual tension.”

Your red-painted lips curl in a surely unattractive manner that resembles something between a grimace and a grin. You’ve heard variations of this argument about a dozen times from just as many sources, but Seokjin’s might just be the most absurd.

“I don’t know how or why your brain went right to a ghost-fucking analogy, but I’ve long since given up trying to understand your thought processes.”

Seokjin’s chest puffs up at your words like they incite something he should feel proud of. You sigh and shake your head at him, feeling a mix of exasperation and endearment - a constant haze of comfort you feel around your best friend.

“I’m just saying,” Seokjin continues, completely undeterred by your attempts to divert the conversation onto him, “He’s hot. You’re hot. He’s still into you. You’re still into him. I don’t see the problem.”

“I never said–!” You cut yourself off. He’s baiting you. “You son of a nutcracker. You know full well what the problem is. I’ve told you more times than Yoongi has yelled at someone for getting too close to his precious sound system.

At your words, you both look over to your left where Yoongi is currently chewing out a sheepish Namjoon with a death-grip on his expensive ass speakers.

“And I’ve told you that your reasons are shaky at best, (y/n),” Seokjin sighs, placing his chin in his palm and leaning over to you. He continues with a conspiring whisper, “Just because you’re scared you’ll get hurt again doesn’t mean you should never put yourself back out there.”

“Oh yeah,” You scowl, “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve never been dumped by the boy you love because he ‘wants to explore other options’. And then have to keep being around said-boy because you’re in the same friend group. And then fast forward a few months to when that same boy shows up drunk at your doorstep asking for you to take him back because you’re ‘the only one for him’. Spoiler alert: that’s fucking bullshit. And then–”

Seokjin slaps a palm over your mouth, effectively cutting you off mid-rant. “Babe, you have to stop rehashing this. Taehyung clearly is still in love with you. He looks at you like he wants to fucking eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Besides, Tae hasn’t even hooked up with anyone since he asked for another chance.”

“That we know of,” You mumble darkly behind Seokjin’s palm - your words only a barely audible jumble of syllables.

“Are you accosting my date, Jin?” The voice of your co-worker and close friend Felix meets your ears as you shove Seokjin’s hand off of you. When you invited Felix to come to Jimin’s annual holiday party, you briefed him on the situation - like any good friend would. You needed him there as an extra buffer. While you love Seokjin, he definitely can get swept up into petty drama - namely baseless arguments with Jungkook.

As your closest work friend, Felix knows all about you and Taehyung, and therefore he agreed to be your “date” in exchange for your help in getting him a date with Alicia, the new accountant in your office. You’ve spent countless hours sitting next to each other as desk neighbors and coworkers. Felix is quiet, cute and respectful - not to mention his voice is to die for.

Felix’s hand settles on the middle of your back in completely friendly territory, but you can’t help but feel the eyes on you have ramped up in intensity. You wonder if Felix can feel his hand burning from the heat and almost think he does when Felix drops his hand a second later.

It’s one thing to make you uncomfortable. You’ve learned to stomach that. But it’s another thing to make your friends uncomfortable. And for that you turn and level a glare at that beautiful asshole, sitting at a nearby table with Jimin and still looking at you with those goddamn eyes.

Taehyung shamelessly stares back at you as Jimin prattles on about something in his ear before noticing Tae’s mind is elsewhere. Following his gaze to you, Jimin groans and shoves Taehyung’s shoulder before strutting away towards the kitchen. You watch as Jimin saunters by and roll your eyes when he winks at you when your eyes meet. That one has always been trouble.

When you turn back around, Taehyung is still staring at you. No, this time he’s staring at your body - namely, your ass. You ignore the burst of heat that runs through you and make a face somewhere between a scowl and a glare. He looks up at you without the least bit of remorse.

Your eyes narrow. Your ass isn’t even out! Your green ugly Christmas sweater adorned with real ornaments basically falls to your knees. But then again, Taehyung has always had a vivid imagination - and an even better memory. His mind is like a goddamn vault.

You tug your attention away from your ex and back to the current conversation. But your thoughts wander. You still feel that pull towards Taehyung - that same damn pull that’s been there since you first met him. And that scares the shit out of you.

Flashback: The First Meeting, Last Christmas

You’re perched on the arm of Namjoon’s black pleather sofa (“It doesn’t stain! Can you believe that?” “Namjoon, it’s ripped in seven places.”). Surveying the flurry of friends scattered throughout the cozy apartment, you only see a few people that you don’t know. But something feels different tonight, and you just can’t figure out why.

Did Namjoon rearrange his plants? Did Jimin part his hair differently? Did Hoseok change his outfit - again?

“A-yo, (y/n)!” Seokjin yells over to you from clear across the room. You’re always baffled at how clueless that boy is to social cues. “Come meet Taehyung!” Your friend continues to yell, practically pinwheeling his arms to beckon you over to his side of the room. You can vaguely make out an unknown figure standing with their back to you, facing Seokjin in conversation.

You sigh. Might as well get this over with before Seokjin decides to start pretending to lasso you over to his side of the room. Or worse - get his actual lasso that he has for some unknown reason. A natural performer that boy is. Getting to your feet, you cross the room. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and you rub a hand over your heart absentmindedly.

What is wrong with you? Meeting new people always brings nerves, but you never usually feel this out of sorts. You step into Seokjin’s outstretched arm and into the embrace of your best friend. And then you look up at the newcomer.

Hooded dark eyes. Curly black hair. Perfect pink lips. Jawline chiseled by the gods.

Your breath catches in your throat. Words buzz in the air around you but you can't distinguish one from the next. You’re pretty sure Seokjin is making some sort of joke because his sides start to shake and the beautiful stranger looks exasperatedly amused. Yet, his eyes never stray from yours.

His lips part like his breath is caught in his throat.

“Taehyung-ie, don’t be rude! Say hi!” Seokjin shoves Taehyung, jolting you both out of your little staring contest.

“Hi,” Taehyung repeats. Your stomach flips at the depth of his voice. “I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung. You can call me Tae. Or V. Or just Taehyung.”

Your smile widens at his ramblings and the rising color of his cheeks. “Hi, Tae,” You can't help but grin up at the adorable, beautiful boy. He really looks angelic under the kitchen lights. His halo of curls frames his face in such a way that makes you want to curl your finger around one and tug.

Vaguely, you can tell that Seokjin is shooting rapid looks between you and Taehyung, looking like some sort of bobblehead in 100mph winds. Suddenly, a Grinch-like grin takes over his face. “Why don’t you crazy kids get some more wine? I need to talk to Yoongi...” Seokjin slips away.

In hindsight, you should have immediately been tipped off that Seokjin was up to no good. Seokjin seeking out Yoongi? Nothing good ever comes from that.

And you were right. Not twenty minutes later, you and Taehyung are both stuttering messes underneath a hastily tapped up branch of mistletoe - at least that’s what Seokjin’s calling it. You think it looks like a clump of grass with a grape thrown in there.

Just as you start to tell Taehyung that he doesn’t have to feel pressured by your lame friends, he cups your face in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Fucking magic.

There aren’t fireworks or sparks. There’s a whole blazing inferno between the two of you.

Your hands slide up his back, tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. Taehyung lets out a small gasp as your fingers tug on his locks, and you slowly slide your tongue across his lower lip.

“Uh, okay… Hello? Hey, guys!”

Finally, Yoongi slams together two pans from the kitchen, jolting you both away from each other in fright.

“Break that shit up,” Yoongi shoots a glare at a grinning Seokjin. “I did not sign up for that level of PDA, Jin.”

“I can’t predict love, Yoongi-ah. I can only bring lovers together,” Jin sighs, clasping his hands over his heart dramatically. Yoongi pinches Seokjin in the side, immediately instigating a fight.

Taehyung reclaims your attention, shyly intertwining his pinky with yours. In the midst of all the chaos around you, he just looks at you like you are the only thing that matters.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 9:02PM

“I don’t know how you survive when he looks at you like that. I’m practically melting just being in proximity of the two of you.”

Your friend Ciana’s comment pulls your attention away from your demon of an ex as he strides by, leveling you with a calculated smolder.

It’s a look that says he’s going to fuck you up in the best way - the way that used to leave you weak in the knees and covered in hickies. Taehyung’s fuck me eyes are your kryptonite. He knows it. You know it. The whole party knows it. Hence, it makes sense how he’s shamelessly using them any fucking chance he can just to mess with you.

It’s practically a fulltime job pretending it doesn't affect you. And it's a job you are failing at miserably.

You sigh and take a big sip of your drink. “Oh, I'm not surviving,” You confess, “This is just a hologram image of me. I’m practically clear across the country by now.”

Ciana laughs, “Girl, I don't blame you, but I have to say… He looks like he would follow you anywhere.”

You scoff. There was a time where you would wholeheartedly agree. Since your first meeting, Tae made you feel like you were the center of his universe.

After talking all night at Seokjin’s party, you exchanged numbers and within a few days Tae asked you out.

Your first date was to an art gallery. The two of you spent hours there, studying art and exchanging soft murmured interpretations. You would often catch Taehyung staring at you instead of at the paintings decorating the walls, and it made you feel all warm and fuzzy.

The dates continued until Taehyung managed to gather up the courage to ask you to be exclusive - his words, not yours. You hadn’t believed that he could ever have doubted your answer. But in hindsight, you probably should have doubted him.

Things were great for a while. No - they were better than great. They were the best eight months of your fucking life. Until they weren’t.

“Why did y’all break up again?” Ciana asks, pulling your attention to her once more.

You let a bitter laugh escape. “You’ll have to ask him that.”

Flashback: The Break-Up, August

“I want to see other people.”

The words strike you like a serrated blade. The plate you’re washing falls into the sink with a clatter. Your heart stills in your chest.

“What?” For a second you believe that you must have misheard him. Only he crushes that hope into dust within seconds.

“I said I want to see other people.” Taehyung repeats, a bit louder.

“You mean like taking a break?” You refuse to turn around and face him. You refuse to believe that your relationship is crumbling down. Your mind tries to grasp at straws. “Or trying ethical non-monogamy?”

“No, (y/n),” Taehyung sighs, “I mean that I want to break up.”

“But why? I don’t understand.” The tears begin to sting your eyes as you blink rapidly, trying to make sense of the blindside that Taehyung just threw at you. “What did I do? How can I fix this?”

“You can’t, okay?” The exasperation in his voice is palpable. “I’m bored here. I feel tied down. We’re both so young... How can we know we’re right for each other when there’s so many other people out there?”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” You seethe, finally whirling to face him. Taehyung flinches when he sees your tearstained face but you persevere and continue, “I bore you? That’s sure not what it seemed like two days ago when you were fucking me against the wall of that club bathroom.”

“Things change,” Taehyung scowls, “I need to explore other options, (y/n), and I think you should, too.”

Your heart is breaking, a fissure splitting it right down the middle. “You want to explore other options,” You repeat, in a deadpan voice. “Do you already have someone in mind?”

The split second pause Taehyung takes is all you need to know the answer to that.

“Get out.”

“(Y/n), it wasn’t the only reason!” Taehyung scrambles to explain. “We haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Oh, you’re a ‘we’ already? Fuck you, Kim Taehyung.”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Well, I hope you’re happy with them. I hope they don’t bore you or tie you down. I hope you’re right for each other. I hope youre fucking happy with yourself and your decision.”

“Can’t we still be friends?”

You don’t deem that question worthy enough of an answer and slam your front door in the face of the person who ten minutes ago had been the love of your life.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 10:21PM

The amount of love in the room is making your stomach turn. You watch as your coupled up friends exchange presents and kisses. You’re so happy for each and every one of them, don’t get you wrong. You just can’t help but feel increasingly alone with each passing minute.

Felix notices the dip in your mood and nudges you, “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah,” You snuggle deeper into his side. Thank god for Felix. “Thanks for coming with me to this shindig. It would have been hard to be alone this year.”

“No worries, babe. Besides, how else am I gonna get Alicia to go out with me?”

You laugh at Felix’s words. The boy was oblivious to the fact that Alicia had already approached you to ask if he was single. Sometimes you enjoy your diabolical mind. “Oh, she’ll definitely go out with you,” You reply, pinching his cheek, “Who could resist this face?”

“You did. Three years ago,” Felix whines, shoving your hand away from him playfully.

“Sadly you’re not my type, pretty boy,” You sigh. It truly was sad. Felix is the nicest human you know - besides Seokjin. The fact that you're not interested just reinforces the idea that you have terrible taste in men.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know who you could possibly be referring to,” You sniff, turning away.

“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe the guy that hasn’t stopped circling you like a fucking shark in water since we got here?”

“He has not,” You retort, rolling your eyes.

“A-ha! So you do know exactly who I’m referring to, you little liar!”

“Goddamnit,” You laugh. “I need another drink to put up with you. You want a refill?” You gesture towards his cup.

“Nah, I’m good,” Felix shakes his head. You nod and head over to the kitchen, thankfully seeing no sign of ‘Shark Boy’.

But you spoke too soon, because just as you’re reaching up for a new mug you feel him.

“Is that little boy out there your boyfriend? I didn’t think you were dating anyone,” A rough voice growls from entirely too close to your ear.

You turn your head and shoot your best side-eye at the asshole who’s heated stare is aimed straight down at you. You internally curse at the unfortunate fact that Kim Taehyung somehow still can manage to look gorgeous in a bright red sweater with a whole-ass Santa beard stitched to its collar. You have never hated him more given that you look like a hot mess of a Christmas tree that no one wants to climb.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Kim,” You retort, turning around again and grabbing a glass from the cabinet. You can feel his warmth surrounding you as he grabs the mug for you instead, his body pushed up against yours.

“Move,” You order, your voice shaking slightly. But instead of listening, Tae grabs your hips and turns you around, caging you in between his arms.

“See, you’re wrong, (y/n),” His eyes dart from your own to your lips, “Everything that concerns you is my business. It has since the moment I met you, and it hasn’t stopped since.”

The incredulous snort escapes you before you can attempt to rein it in, “Taehyung, you broke up with me! I’m pretty sure that means you consider me old news and - above all - none of your fucking business.”

“And I told you I made a mistake!” Taehyung leans closer, his jaw ticking.

“You were drunk!” You stab a finger into his admittedly toned chest that you can feel even through that abominable Santa beard, “And it took you two fucking months to say that, only to never bring it up again. So excuse me if I find your argument lacking.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung curses softly, running a hand through his mess of curls, “I miss that smart mouth.”

“Yeah?” Your response flies out too fast for your brain to check your words, “Well I miss being enough for you.”

Taehyung looks stricken. “Baby…” He reaches for you but you duck past him and beeline straight for Jimin’s bathroom. Locking yourself inside, you slide to the floor and contemplate your chances of sneaking out the tiny bathroom window just like you did that night some months ago.

Flashback: A Streetcar Named WTF, October

A harsh banging sound jolts you awake. “What the fuck,” You mumble, fumbling around blindly trying to find your phone amidst the blankets and pillows surrounding you.

Finally, your hand locates the small metal device and you switch your screen on. Your eyes immediately shut at the brightness and you muster up the will to peek at the time.

3:12AM.

Who the hell dares to pound on your door at this hour? What is this - A Streetcar Named Desire? Well, slap your ass and call you Blanche because this asshole is about to feel your wrath.

Stomping over to your door, you swing it open and say, “There’s no Stella here, Stanley. Fuck off.”

While you don’t find a drunk Marlon Brando on your doorstep, you do find a drunk Taehyung.

“Who the fuck’s Stanley?” Tae glares, trying to cross his arms but failing somehow.

“Good lord, Taehyung,” You groan, grabbing his arm and dragging him inside your apartment, “You smell like a whole goddamn brewery. How did you even end up here?”

“Walked,” He says proudly while smiling down at your hand on his arm like an idiot. “Who’s Stamplee? I mean, Stangfree.”

You pinch your nose with your free hand. This boy… Ignoring his idiocy completely, you question, “You walked?” You push him down onto your couch and head into your kitchen to grab him some water.

“Yup! All by myself! Are you proud of me? Sandflea could never!”

You jump. Somehow Tae still managed to sneak up behind you while drunk out of his mind.

“Kim Taehyung, sit your drunk ass down.” You jab a finger in the direction of the couch he just vacated.

“But you’re so far away when I sit all the way over there, baby,” He pouts, giving you puppy dog eyes. “And I’m not drunk!”

You don’t dignify his words with a response. Handing the glass of water to the problem currently sprawled out on your couch, you sigh. What are you going to do with him? He can’t stay here… But he’s in no shape to walk back to wherever the fuck he came from.

“Tell me, Kim, why did you think that walking to my apartment of all places was a good idea? I could have moved!” Disdain drips from every syllable, “Is anything going on in that brain of yours? If so, it’s clearly not making any sense.”

“I beg to differ,” Taehyung has the audacity to grin up at you as he continues, “My brain makes perfect sense, baby. You plus me equals three.” His eyebrows wiggle up and down as he swings his hands out, showering you with the glass of water you just handed him.

“Maybe I’ll call you a math tutor along with your Uber,” You mumble as you fight the urge to laugh at the mess of a boy staring up at you from your couch. Grabbing a kitchen towel, you dab the water off of you as best you can. Glancing back down at Tae, you notice his attention has fallen to your chest, where the water he practically threw at you has plastered your tanktop to your skin.

“Hey, eyes up here,” You slap his arm with the damp towel, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“One more minute,” He says, absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

His attention gives you butterflies for a split second before you lock that shit down. You aren’t a fool; you’re fully aware that Taehyung’s the farthest thing from available, but he’s still hot as hell with his muscular stature, his wicked brown eyes, and his full pink lips. And that deep voice… it has shamefully been the fuel of your fantasies for the past few weeks. But that is neither here nor there.

So while his undivided attention always did make you feel fucking incredible, now he’s just a drunk boy who’s acting like he’s never seen nipples before.

“I’m calling you an Uber, okay?” You finally say, grabbing your phone and pulling up the app.

“Can’t I stay here?” Taehyung pouts, “Or will Surley get mad?”

“His name is Stanley,” You automatically reply and then curse as Taehyung lurches to his feet.

“I knew it! Where is he? Where is my replacement? I challenge him to a duel!”

“A duel?” You can’t help but laugh, “On what grounds?”

“For your hand, of course!” Taehyung rapidly glances around your apartment before his eyes land on the broom tucked in the corner of your kitchen. “There’s my sword!”

Before he can take a step towards his ‘sword’, you grab his arm and push him back down onto your couch.

“Wow, you’re strong!” Tae stares up at you adoringly, “And so-o cute. Wanna date?”

“You’re drunk, Tae. Don’t say things like that.” God, he’s going to give you a complex. You had just started getting over him and now he does this? Why is life deadset on fucking you over?

“But I do wanna date you!” Taehyung insists, “Don’t you miss me? Miss us? I still love you. I never stopped.”

“Tae, please stop.”

“I made a mistake, baby, and I wanna fix it. Can you give me a chance? Please?” His brown eyes blink up at you slowly. His lids practically fight to stay open as his words slur together.

The boy is falling asleep. Sighing, you close the Uber app. Looks like you’re housing your ex for the evening.

“I wanna marry you,” He mumbles, “Bought the ring last week. If you can just love me again I’ll be the luckiest…” His words get more and more inaudible. Mumbles about Stanley and revenge and kisses and altars filter through as you place a blanket over his form.

“Goodnight, Tae.” You can’t resist brushing your fingers through his hair. Your heart stutters as he practically leans into your touch like a cat, smiling contentedly.

“We’ll see if you remember this in the morning,” You mutter, setting another glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the coffee table for him when he wakes up.

After making sure Taehyung’s on his side with a bucket for potential incidents, you head back to bed.

When you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 10:23PM

“(y/n)... baby, please let me in.”

The underlying meaning of those six words is not lost on you. Could you let him in again? Taehyung once held your heart and then he basically smashed it on concrete and backed over it with his car - twice.

“Go away.” Your words sound weak even to your own ears.

“No, I need to talk to you… Please.” His voice breaks on the last word and you cave. Standing you unlock the door and back up. You could have a logical and reasonable discussion with Tae and get some closure, leaving all feelings out of it. Maybe...

“Two minutes,” You declare, “Nothing more.”

“But–”

You cut him off, “1:55…” You tap your foot and smile as Taehyung shoots you a look.

“Fine,” He rubs the back of his neck, peeking up at you under his lashes. “I got scared, okay?”

Your disbelief must show all over your face because he continues.

“Yeah, I was scared - fucking terrified of how much I feel for you. How in love with you I am. How can it be that easy to find your soulmate? It didn’t make any sense to me. And then Pia began to show an interest in me and I convinced myself it was a good idea to distance myself from you. To see other people. To try to make sense of my feelings.”

You hold up a hand. “So, you’re saying that you broke up with me because you were ‘too in love with me?’ What the fuck kind of selfish bullshit is that, Taehyung? You broke my fucking heart for someone you didn’t even like because you were scared I was your soulmate? Don’t you see how that just makes me feel like shit?”

Taehyung sinks to his knees. “(Y/n), baby, please. I am so sorry. I fucked up in the worst, most selfish way possible. It kills me that I broke your heart.”

“Ugh, get up, you drama king.” You pull him to his feet, continuing, “Why did you leave after that night? You said all those things when you were drunk and then just left.”

“Yeah, I kind of don’t remember what I said or how I even ended up at your place.” A blush takes over his face, “It’s so embarrassing you had to see me like that and I kind of just wanted to forget it happened. And I really hoped that you forgot it did, too. I didn’t expect you to just keep acting like you forgot my existence altogether.”

“What does that mean? I see you all the time, Tae! We’re in the same friend group for god’s sakes. We’re around each other all the time… Maybe even too much.” You mumble the last few words, but he catches them.

“Too much? You avoid me at all costs! You don’t smile at me anymore. You don’t even look at me most times! It kills me that all I get from you now is ice, when I know you have so much fire.”

His words confuse you. So he does want you back? Your friends weren’t exaggerating? A small burst of hope swells inside you, but the memory of the break-up outweighs it. “You don’t even know me though, Taehyung. Not anymore.”

“No. You’re wrong,” Taehyung leans closer to you, and you take a step back. Your back bumps up against the sink, your plastic ornaments adorning your sweater clinking awkwardly.

Tae brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes begging you to listen, “I do know you. I know that you still take your coffee black with caramel. I know that you started doing yoga but are too proud to admit you hate it. I know that you came to my art show last month but left before I could talk to you alone. I know that you–”

“Stop,” Your voice trembles, “Please, I can’t. Taehyung, you hurt me so fucking much. Don’t you get that? I just started feeling whole again. So if I let you back in and you hurt me, I might shatter completely.”

His hands cup your face gently, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I won’t ever hurt you again, baby. Please give me one more chance. That’s all I need. I want to keep you forever, (y/n)... I bought you a ring, did I tell you that when I was drunk? I think I did. I still have it. It’s yours - just like my heart.”

“God, you’re still so fucking cheesy,” You can’t hold back your smile even though more tears are falling down your cheeks.

And then his lips are on yours.

Taehyung kisses you like you're the most precious thing in the universe. Like you might break in the palm of his hand if he’s not careful enough. And maybe you will. But for right now, you melt into him.

He tastes like home.

Taehyung’s touch is tentative at first. His hands slide into your hair, tugging you even closer. You feel like you might burst, feeling so many emotions. Love. Fear. Confusion. Hope. You hook your leg around him, wanting him pressed against you everywhere.

Taehyung groans and one of his hands drops down to grab your thigh, wrapping it more securely around his waist. “Jump, baby,” He mumbles into your lips, and you listen automatically.

He perches you on the edge of the sink, kisses you deeply, and then sinks back down to his knees.

“Tae–” You protest, as he runs his hands slowly up your calves.

“I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby,” His dark eyes burn into yours, “Please don’t let me go another minute without you on my tongue.”

Fuck. Well, you can’t argue with that. When Tae sees you open your legs a bit more, he grins up at you and places a quick kiss on the inside of your knee.

His touch becomes more frantic as he moves up, his mouth placing hot kisses higher and higher.

When he sees the lacy red panties you have on, he snaps, lunging forward and hitching your thigh over his shoulder. Pushing your underwear to the side, his hot mouth is on you, closing over your clit without warning. You gasp as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue.

Your hand winds its way into his curls, pushing him harder against you. He moans into your pussy. “So fucking wet for me, baby. God, I love you.”

Taehyung places a soft kiss on your inner thigh before his tongue returns to lick at your pussy, up and down. His tongue sinks into you, making your hips buck against his face. His hand shoots up to steady you as his tongue continues to flick in and out of you.

The sight of the boy you never stopped loving tongue deep in your pussy almost pushes you over the edge already. “Ta-ae,” You moan, hand tugging at his hair, “Harder, baby, please.”

Your words have their desired effect as he replaces his tongue with two of his fingers and places his mouth back on your clit. You moan as his fingers curl inside you, brushing your walls.

The first few strokes of his fingers are slow. Too slow for your liking, “Taehyung, fuck me with your fingers.”

A rumble moves up his chest as he obeys, pushing another finger deep inside of you. “Fuck, baby,” He curses and begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy, “You feel even better than I remember, so goddamn wet.”

His mouth finally returns to your clit, his tongue flicking over it every so often. You’re hurtling towards your orgasm as his long fingers continue to pound into you and his mouth continues to lick at your pussy.

You feel the heat building up and you come with a gasp. Taehyung continues to fuck you with his fingers and his mouth, carrying you through your orgasm until you slump back against the mirror above the sink.

Taehyung grins up at you, licking up everything you gave him. Finally, you gently push him off you. Still licking his fingers clean, Taehyung’s eyes sparkle up at you, “Well? Wanna get married?”

“Oh my god,” You burst out laughing, hopping off the sink onto shaky legs. “Why don’t you start by wooing me? We’ll go from there.”

“Challenge accepted.”

You blink.

Taehyung smiles. His wild dark curls are sticking up in random places - courtesy of your hands. His eyes are full of their usual sinful promises, but this time they also hold excitement and a tiny spark of hope. “Prepare to be wooed, wifey.”

“Fuck off,” You laugh, quickly fixing your hair in the mirror before smoothing down your sweater dress.

Nodding at your semi-acceptable reflection, you swing the door open to reveal just about every person from the party collectively gathered just outside.

“I knew it!” Seokjin shrieks. “Where’s my mistletoe?”

“My poor bathroom!” Jimin cries, “Defiled! Desecrated!”

“Why am I friends with you all?” Yoongi asks no one in particular.

“Well,” Tae whispers in your ear, “At least we won’t have to tell them, right?”

You smile despite the embarrassing situation and nod. This Christmas might just be your best yet.

a/n: sorry that this is late and severely unedited LOL plz be kind, this is my first fic back and YA GIRL IS RUSTY

#bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #kpopuniverse #ksmutclub #kwritersworld #networkbangtan #kim taehyung #kth #taehyung x reader #tae x reader #kth x reader #bts fanfic #bts

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

Text

Venti: First Meeting and Friendship HCs

First Meeting HCs

————————————————————

The god of freedom certainly lived up to the title. A truly free spirit who only wished the same for others. He shaped the many hills and cliffs of Mondstadt with his own hand, and graciously bestowed his powers unto those he deemed worthy. And yet…there he sat - teetering on the edge of a barstool, completely and utterly intoxicated.

The red-head manning the bar rolls his eyes at the sorry display the archon was creating, and resumes cleaning the glass in his hand. However as a bell rings out - signaling a new patron - he looks up.

You enter the famed “Angels Share”, the best tavern in Mondstadt - or so you’ve been told. Really, you’ll decide that for yourself - is what you think as you slide into an empty seat at the bar. Eager to unwind after a long day of adventuring, you order your drink and attempt to relax.

But really, your night didn’t end how you’d hoped at all. You ended up with a loud and incredibly clingy bard hanging off of your shoulder spouting barely comprehensible rhymes and poems. You would’ve found amusement in the spectacle if you weren’t so tired. Shrugging him off did no good, as he was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Thankfully, you got your sweet freedom as the bartender cut him off for the night, presenting the smaller boy with the shockingly large bill. A wave of pity washes over you as his face drops at the number.

He laughs awkwardly, attempting to convince the bartender that he could pay by other means, but the stoic man only sighs, trying to explain to the drop-dead drunk bard that he cannot keep the tavern open with “songs and sonnets”.

Really you were quite done with your failed attempt at relaxation - wanting to go home and just sleep the night away. Sliding a bag of Mora across the counter you state that it should be enough to cover both of your tabs. That was essentially all you’d earned via commission today, though, you can’t really find a reason to be mad about the extra expenditure. Helping people out - that’s just what you do. You don’t look twice as you exit the bar, though you feel a pair of eyes on your hooded figure as the door swings shut.

And that was that - you never saw the drunken bard again. Or so you thought. As the very next day you spotted him out of the corner of your eye while scouting around a Hilichurl camp, but as soon as you looked he was gone. And then that very same evening as you sat down for dinner at Good Hunter. Then several times over the next few days.

It was ticking you off, not just the fact that you had pretty much obtained a stalker, but the extra stress he brought with him as you now had to worry about his well being on top of yours during battle. You even started taking less dangerous commissions to further guarantee his safety. You didn’t really know or like the guy, but you certainly didn’t want him hurt, or worse; dead.

And by that point he wasn’t even trying to hide or disguise himself - trailing a few feet behind you nearly everywhere you went, drawing perplexed gazes from the townsfolk as you wandered from store to store for supplies. You were trying your best to keep your composure - to pretend he wasn’t even there in the first place - but the longer the charade went on the more cracks that appeared in your mask.

You didn’t mean to snap at him, honestly, but you were tired of putting up with a complete stranger following you around for no good reason - so you yelled at him. Right there in the middle of the market, the bard stood stunned - taken aback by your sudden outburst. He recovered quickly of course, smiling up/down at you like he hadn’t just been shouted at in clear view of the publics eye.

He hastily explains his actions, identifying himself as Venti - a travelling bard seeking inspiration for his next story. That night in the bar, he had been there lamenting - drowning his sorrows in wine over his recent pieces. They were all lacking ingenuity - a certain bit of flair that makes a story truly unforgettable. And that’s where you came in. You had caught his attention with your selfless act of generosity, so much so that it had given him that spark he he had been searching for. So naturally, he followed that spark - hoping it would continue to present him with the same creativity as before.

As you listen to his reasoning, the initial anger you felt mellows. You’re more than relieved that he’s not actually a creepy stalker, just a bard looking for inspiration.

Apologizing sheepishly for your actions, you scratch the back of your head. In that moment it was impossible to look into the boys eyes. You felt bad, truly. You had misread the situation entirely - thought it wasn’t all your fault. If the bard had simply approached you in the first place this whole fiasco could’ve all been avoided.

As you voice these thoughts to Venti he hums in understanding. He returns your apology with one of his own - bowing deeply with his beret in hand - shocking you and the few random townsfolk still paying attention to the scene.

Deeply embarrassed by the confused gazes the bard was drawing to them, you hastily accept his apology, tugging your hood further down to hide your hot face. Honestly the idea of just running away from the situation sounded quite appealing, but instead you restrain the urge - opting to walk past the boy as quick as possible.

Just as your shoulders brush, a hand latches onto your wrist - stopping your escape in its tracks. This time it’s Ventis turn to look sheepish, as he officially asks to accompany you on your exploits. He offers you entertainment and conversation, as well as any other skills he may or may not have - the latter only serving to confuse rather than convince you.

“Your journey would be far more enjoyable with a skilled bard such as myself by your side. Perhaps you would even allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

It’s not entirely uncommon for a bard to travel with an adventurer for inspiration, you suppose to yourself. Though you’re still more than a bit apprehensive on the matter. It’s not that you don’t want his company - really it does get quite lonely alone out on the road - it’s simply his safety that concerns you. But upon voicing this Venti simply chuckles, exclaiming that he’s much stronger than his appearance lets on.

Now - with no real reason to refuse - you accept his offer, earning a cheer from the bard. And so your joint journey began - you and Venti against whatever tasks or monsters needed tackling.

Friendship HC

————————————————————

It goes without saying that if you didn’t have a vision before, you certainly have one now. Within the first week in fact. Waking up in the early hours of the day to a soft blue glowing vision beside your head was not something you ever thought you’d experience - but of course you’re not complaining.

Upon shaking the bard awake to show him your discovery he only gives a rather tame reaction - as if he already knew you had it.

“Hmm? You woke up to a vision by your side? My, my - what luck you seem to possess! Perhaps now you may go into battle with less distress.”

Travelling with Venti is never dull, as he fills the silence with stories of old - tales of the long deserted original city of Mondstadt, the creation of the seven nations themselves and other obscurities that you don’t remember hearing about in any history book. Often times he interrupts his own story to spill his own hot take on a major historical figure or deity - hearing him call Andrius a “mother hen in denial” had you spit out your drink. His storytimes often end with you wondering how exactly someone so young would have knowledge of times long gone. He always shrugs it off, quickly changing the subject with a smile filled with secrets. For a boy so young he talks as if he’s been around for centuries.

Any looming worries over his well being are quickly dismissed once you see him fight. His nimble fingers and sharp eyes shoot down all matter of foes in rapid succession, and his skills at utilizing anemo are completely unparalleled. Really, you’re left wondering how he’s not the adventurer here.

You will absolutely fall victim to his pranks there’s nothing you can do about it. Whether it’s the wind blowing your cloak around in your face, extra jueyun chilies in your food or a slime condensate down the back of your shirt - you cannot escape the impish bards mischievous side. It’s when he suddenly falls quiet that you have to worry. A silent Venti is a scheming Venti.

However this is not a one-sided deal at all, he welcomes - no, insists - that you prank him back. He doesn’t want you to be left out of the fun after all! So get him back for that frog he put in your pack, or the time he kept pushing air currents in your direction so you couldn’t land your glider. Really; the more creative the better. If you’re able to prank him successfully he’ll laugh with you as you celebrate, praising you for your victory. But be warned that his next scheme will be twice as good as yours.

If you ever need a break from his shenanigans, go hang out with a cat. He won’t approach you while the animal is around, however he will be pouting up a storm from a distance.

You’ve gotten to discover many quirks of the bard clad in green over time, like how the tips of his hair seem to glow brighter when he’s in a good mood - especially when he laughs, and that he’s completely repulsed by cheese. If he ever bothers you too much you can get him back by chasing him while holding the stuff. Some of that nasty, stinky stuff Sara has at Good Hunter should do the trick. Mind you that the boy is incredibly spry - so good luck keeping up.

Eventually, he ends up revealing his true identity to you after the guilt of lying begins to eat away at his heart - making it harder to keep up his persona. Really he’d wanted to tell you for months at that point, but a lingering feeling of apprehension - a worry that you may no longer see him the same way - kept holding him back.

“Y/N, I wish to tell you a truth I’ve been hiding. You see…in reality, I am Lord Barbatos.”

“…”

“That…actually explains so much…”

He’s relieved to find that nothing has changed between the two of you after his revelation. You still treat him like Venti the bard, just as you always have. It’s a weight off his shoulders to be sure, and you can tell his overall mood has improved too.

It’s still kind of shocking when he switches to “Barbatos mode”, as you’ve taken to calling it. Spouting bars of philosophical gibberish at the most random of times leaves you blinking in utter confusion and often times just hurts your brain.

At the end of the day, the God of freedom is incredibly lonely. The best way to describe it is that he’s detached - he’s out of touch with his ever-changing homeland and the people that reside in it. Only ever appearing to handle a major problem or calamity at hand and then sending himself into a deep slumber for hundreds of years.

Waking up each time is like mental whiplash for the poor god, as he sees towns rise and fall, people come and go and things change again just he’s beginning to get used them. It takes a toll on him - though he won’t let anyone see that.

He craves companionship and the feeling of belonging that comes with it more than anything. Placing unconditional trust in someone else, backing them up when the goings get tough and having them do the same in return. Providing a shoulder to lean on in moments of weakness and being so comfortable that breathing easy becomes the simplest thing in the world. That’s what he wants. Barbatos may not be human but his vessel is.

That’s why Barbatos cherishes his friendship with you so much. He knows you - like all other humans - have a finite amount of time in this world. In time, wrinkles will adorn your face, and strands of silvery gray will appear in your hair. You bones will ache as age seeps into your body. And yet he will experience no such afflictions - forever wearing the face of a young boy from another time. Ever ageless, frozen in time.

The dull ache that spreads through his chest at the thought of watching the one who he considers his closest friend wither away in front of him is…crushing. Even though he knows your time alive is brief, and that your death would only cause him more pain - he can’t stop himself.

He’ll spend nearly every day by your side, telling you tales of yore, pulling pranks and practical jokes, covering your back in battle and being there when you need it most. He wants you to experience the land and all its freedoms. He wants you to get the most out of what little time you have in such a vast and expansive world.

You’re the closest friend he’s had since the real Venti - and he sees bits of him in you too. You help fill the gaping hole of loneliness in his chest - one stemming from a millennia of duty and repressed guilt.

He knows you’ll eventually leave him, and one day hopefully he’ll come to terms with that. But for now, he’s content with you by his side, racing off into whatever dangers lie ahead.

————————————————————

This turned out so much longer that I thought it would I’m so sorry ;-;

I know you said all you wanted were headcannons but I think I went a lil too far…ok ALOT too far

I had fun though…so thanks for giving me something to work on!

—

No need to feel sorry! I loved it so much. Headcanons, fics, whatever you want^^ I stan talent and you have it 💕💕

I don’t know if you lads remember but when I was struggling over Venti HCs, this was the friend I asked for crumbs of inspiration that ended up giving me an entire fic. I went absolutely feral over it and wanted to share it with you all.

So thank you to @fulltimeventisimp [alt account] for your beautiful work and feeding us all Venti crumbs. I swear to god, if there is a Venti re-run and you don’t get 6 venti’s in one 10 roll it’s time to riot.

[No worries about tags]

Also, I know this isn’t my work but I’m going to tag you all in this

@mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact @morthecreator @aanne2601 @aklxojjk @hanniejji

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amnxsia · 4 years ago

Text

The Honored One

“Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one. Only my pleasure and displeasure exists.”

A/n: This fic is apart of @zeeroweenies fright night collab!

Thank you to @namrekcaivel and @peachy-momos for beta reading!

Both Eren and reader are aged up they are around 4000 years old!

Mikasa is ooc

Taglist: @kirsteiiins @callmepromise, @namischild, @namrekcaivel, @aotwrites, @erens-piss-cleaner, @sofi-yeager, @peachysimp, @fiaficsxo, @eremiie, @odmlevis, @instantnuma, @levibasketcase, @weepinglevi, @bruhstories, @yuedama

Summary: What do mortals with powers of a demigod on their side desire the most? More power. But that’s were you come in.

Content: A lot of violence, descriptions of violence, death (the reader nor eren dies), angst, smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers, mentions of sacrilege, fingering (fem is receiving) virginity loss but with a twist, squirting, unprotected sex.

Trigger Warnings: Violence, descriptions of violence, death, descriptions of death, blood, murder, god complex, impact play, edging, praise kink, corruption.

Word Count: 6436

all references to chainsaw man, jujustu kaisen, and attack on titan belongs to the authors only.

Demigods which are offsprings of a god and a human. This particular demigod was the offspring of Grisha and Carla Jeager. Grisha was the god of health and medicine; Asclepius. While Carla was just a ordinary beautiful and strong human who somehow, someway caught the eye of Grisha. They would wed and birth the demigod of war and violence;

Eren Jaeger.

2000 years ago

Carla’s village said his name like a prayer almost everyday at the altar, and it was for sure a prayer. Every since the council of her village had came into contact with him they had gain new and powerful powers, but women of all ages went missing under strange circumstances rumors had started spreading like wildfire, the one rumor that stood out from them all to her was “he would first take their pureness and then devour their souls, as a punishment of falling for temptation.”

Carla’s heart sank, and her anger boiled inside of her now knowing the reason why her mother and dear sisters went missing all those years ago. The endless crying, the endless begging to Gods, now knowing that Grisha Jaeger was her god, he had saved her and her village from living-hell so it only made sense that he take anything and everything that she held dear to he heart. Except for one thing.

You can’t gain anything if you don’t lose anything, right?

Carla dashes out of her old home, nothing but pure hatred, rage, flowing through her veins.

It was a windy, rainy night but that didn’t stop her. She used her “Infinity” to shield her body and view from the falling rain. She keeps running until she finds herself in the main street of the village, she see a moving figure above a lifeless corpse feasting on it’s arm, their face entirely covered in stained blood, from freshly feasting on a arm the once stained blood covered with fresh dripping blood, dripping on the person’s abdomen.

Carla’s grip on her katana tightens.

“GRISHA.” Carla says her breathing becoming labored from all the pent of emotions.

The figure stops and takes off their coat revealing a toned body, paired with sliver rings, accompanied with army boots.

Grisha smirks at Carla. “Well hello Carla I’m so sorry you had to find me like this feasting upon these mortals but I can’t help it, a god has to eat too right?”

“You bastard, how dare you show up to this village, make everyone trust you, and then go behind their backs like this.”

“Oh? You care about these pathetic mortals all of sudden? Don’t you remember what you did? When you finally decided not to give a shit, and finally gave into your bloodlust.”

Your grip on your katana tightens “Don’t try to spin this around on me, what happened to helping, treating everyone, protecting everyone.”

“PROTECTING EREN?!?”

“What happened to him, huh? What happened to us?”

Grisha starts laughing.

“Eren will end up just like us, but he would be better than me, he would not fall in love with a pathetic mortal. Carla don’t you realize I used you, just for the sake of continuing my bloodline, so the Jaeger family can continue on without me.”

Ignoring the hateful words that came out of Grisha’s mouth. Carla unhooks her katana’s from the case, without having to look up she notices energy started to from from the dead corpses' Grisha had feasted upon.

No.

10?

No.

15.

Alright.

Carla starts to sprint towards the corpses slicing open the first 5.

I can’t spend too much energy on these corpses' I need to save it for Grisha.

In the distance she see’s a chain wrapped around a pole.

I could insert some of my energy into the chain, and then somehow make the rest of the corpses come into contact with it, then automatically killing them all.

But there’s a car in front of the pole.

No problem.

Carla starts to run faster, and then pushes her body up in the air, gracefully lacing her hand with the chain.

Just a little energy.

Exerting a small amount of energy with the chain Carla swings the chain in the direction of all the corpses, killing them all.

“GIRSHA” She says running and grabbing her katana and covering it with the chain. She was focused, determined to strike down her husband. She jumps on the roofs of multiple houses.

She knows he’s out of luck by sensing his cursed energy weakening by the minute.

She looks at her surroundings she sees nothing out of the ordinary. So she pulls out a seal, folds in it half, then takes the fold and positions it at the end of her blade slicing it in half, and then positioning it once more so it could stay in place.

And she aims at Grisha.

“Sealing Technique-.”

And then she hears it.

Crying.

A baby.

A baby crying.

She looks around frantically, and then she spots the baby in the middle of the road.

“EREN!”

She jumps off the roof of the house she had once been running on. She instantly lands near Eren’s side dropping her weapon. She swoops down and collects Eren in her arms she starts to rock him with a simile on her face. She looks around her and see’s Grisha grabbing at the Earth she knows she doesn’t have much time left with her son, but she makes it count.

“Eren listen to me and listen to me well. In another 2000 years I will be reincarnated so just wait for me okay? Whoever I reincarnate into please be kind and be loving, don’t let your father’s energy and powers manipulate you into something that you aren’t. Be true and stay true to who you are. I wished I had more time with you as mother and son, but it’s just the way it is loving certain people, loving your father to be specific but I wouldn’t have it any other I love him & you so much. Goodbye Eren.”

And with that Carla feels something sharp go into her back and somehow she gently places you down onto the grass. She falls onto her back, looking upward to meet her husbands lusted filled eyes.

Somehow Carla managed to do the unthinkable.

“Eren will overcome the curse of the Jaeger family, and he will seal your presence away for good I promise you Grisha but first let’s rest for another 2000 years until we meet again.”

Grisha doesn’t say anything.

Carla makes a gesture with her hands and Grisha feels a gust of a wind and looks over and see’s a katana with a sealing heading straight towards his head.

Grisha feels blood trickle down his forehead as he begins to wobble on his feet. He collapses next to Carla who’s takes his hand into his.

Carla and Grisha both looks over at Eren who’s already out of his blanket, already at the of age 7 he walks towards the rising sun and after taking seven steps Eren looks back at his dying parents he points to the sun and says with a smirk on his face “Throughout Heaven and Earth I alone am The Honored One.”

2000 years later

You awake to your mother patting on your shoulder. “Y/n it’s time to get up today is a special day for our village and the people in it.”

“What day is it today Mother?” You ask sleep still heavy on your mind.

“Today is the day where we welcome the person who will save us.”

For some reason your head begins to hurt, but you dismiss the feeling.

“Okay. Let me get dress, and I’ll be out there.”

And with that your mother leaves you by yourself to get dressed. While discarding your sleeping clothes you can’t help but to let your mind wander on the mystery person who would “save” your village.

Now making your way to the altar where everyone is supposed to be at, you see your mother and your best friend so you decide to stand by them, and welcome the stranger. While talking to your friend about the mysterious savior you feel a sense of deja vu washes over you. But before you can say anything a group of people begin to come into your line of sight.

They’re all walking in front of the person of the hour. But your eyes ignore them and they swiftly land on the boy who’s hair is swept back into a manbun, a single ring adorning his thumb. The group of people finally make it to where you and all the other citizens are standing.

The priest says his hello’s, welcome’s, and thank you’s for gathering here. And then he finally turns to boy and introduces him as Eren Jaeger; a demigod who has come to aid the village.

Eren eyes dart to the crowd.

Without even doing, saying anything, everyone got on their knees and hands for him, exchanging thank you’s, welcome’s, and how they believed that he was the almighty one and how blessed they are to be graced with his presence.

But you weren’t on your knees thanking him, no you were there standing with a straight face staring at him. Everyone goes quiet at your clear disrespect, you could hear the faint rustling of the grass you were standing on. The deja vu you were feeling earlier became stronger, and you were determined to figure it out why even if it meant dying at the hands of a god.

Eren’s eyes dart to yours causing the wind current to change. The tension between you both began to thicken. And that’s when Eren begins to walk towards you, but you don’t back down, your body doesn’t shake with fear, not one of your thoughts in your mind tell you to run away. No you were unfazed by him.

Eren’s face is now centimeters apart from yours, you both look directly into each other’s eyes, no you both were looking directly into each other’s souls, trying to find something, anything that you both could grab on and never let go. And that’s when you see his hand come into contact with your jaw, his fingers were pretty you thought.

He drags his index finger across your jaw, and then cups your entire face with his hand.

“What’s your name, pet?”

“M’ not your pet, get your hands off me.” You slap his hand away from his face.

The contact between you and Eren went straight to his cock, making his entire body shiver in ecstasy.

Ah. There it is.

“Y/N-” your mother said quickly getting up reaching for your body.

Eren quickly looks to where your mother is “Shut up, and sit down mortal this isn’t your concern.”

Your mother quickly mutters a apology and returns to where she once sat.

That created arousal which began to drip down into your panties.

Eren turns away from you and your mother his eyes now focused on the higher ups “remember our deal.”

“Yes of course.”

And with that the higher ups begin to make their leave but they notice that Eren is not following them.

“Sir is something wrong?”

Eren ignores them and begins to walk back towards you, this time he grabs your neck roughly, and slams you into the grass, and presses his half-hardened cock against your lower thigh.

“I asked you a question, and I expect you to answer it yeah?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n what? Use your words pet.”

“Y/n L/n”

And with that he lets you go and retreats with the other higher ups with a smirk on his face.

But he stops again and turns back to you.

He turns to the other people who are still on their knees, and the higher ups.

“Leave us.” he says and everyone is dismissed, now leaving you and him.

Eren sits down on the grass next you.

“I thought it was common courtesy when a human of low standards like yourself interacts with a high being like myself they’re supposed to kiss me, as a token of their gratitude.”

“And who said I’m grateful to you? All I did was give you my name. And speaking of names you never told me yours.”

“My name? No one has ever been interested in my name, just my title.”

“Title?”

Eren smiles “Each God has it’s own title which everyone refers them to, my birth name is unimportant to the world.”

The sun is beginning to set, and you both fall into a comfortable silence. You gain the courage to break it.

“What if it’s important to me?”

“Oh? We’ve only knew each other for a whole hour and you already asking for my name.” Eren says getting up from sitting on the grass.

“Yeah so?”

That’s when Eren bends over and and his lips are close to the shell of your ear, “You’re going to have to work, beg, show me that you’re worthy of knowing my name and title, and maybe who knows maybe I’ll give you so much more, I genuinely find you intriguing” Eren said licking and gently biting the shell of your ear.

“So do I” you said your core throbbing with anticipation. “I’m glad, well I’ll see you around pet.” And with that Eren disappears leaving you with a ache between your legs, and so many unanswered questions.

After catching your breath, you began to make your way home realizing that so much time had passed during your conversation with Eren. While making it closer to your home you mind begins to wander about the many things Eren had said. The feeling of remembering him, but from where exactly all clouded your mind, and the ache he left in between your legs.

You finally arrive at your front door, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling. You open your door to find a empty house, and a note on the dining room table. You walk over to pluck it from the table reading;

Out to get something for dinner! - Mom

Weird. You thought to yourself. Mother always used to preach about being in the house at an appropriate and decent time. You dismiss the thought, turning over the note to see if there was anything else written on it.

The second your skin comes in contact with the note, a surge of electricity shoots through your body going straight to your core. it made you collapse slightly to the floor, making you rut against it causing tiny moans to spill out from your virgin mouth. Your mind instantly shoots back to your interaction with Eren, his words causing more moans to fall out

You dig your hands into your thighs, ceasing, the moans coming from you. But the throbbing in your legs doesn’t cease no they intensify. During this moment and time, nothing else mattered except Eren.

You began to stand up and make your way towards your bedroom. Not after 5 minutes, you find yourself inside your room. You close the door and quickly place yourself in your bed, you prop your legs up and slightly spread your legs so you could have access to your cunt.

But this is as far as you can go, begin a virgin you weren’t sure what to do. all you ever did was dry hump your pillow and sheets when Mother wasn’t looking or wasn’t near.

So you pondered about the best way to successfully chase and fully experience your release. You finally decide to start teasing yourself at the hem of your panties.

You pause. Deciding to give yourself a moment to rest.

You finally pull down your panties and spread your legs even wider to access even more of your cunt.

You finally enter a finger into your cunt; the new intrusion hurts a bit but the pain quickly transforms into pleasure, overcome by the new found pleasure you quickly thrust your single finger in out of your swollen cunt.

But you suddenly stop. Eren’s words about working for something you want comes rushing back to you. You decide to slow down to relax your breathing.

You close your eyes for what seems about entirety until you open them. Titling your head from the ceiling you see Eren sitting on a chair in front of you with his head in the palm of his ring, adorned hand

“My my, what do we have here?” Eren says in a teasing tone.

“I-” You say with your finger still knuckles deep in your cunt.

“Shush pet, it’s fine. Don’t be ashamed you look so beautiful like that.” Eren says getting up from his chair as he begins to take off his shirt.

Your mind begins to wander, in thought about how good Eren looks right now before you. shirt thrown to the floor, a chest sculpted by God. your eyes quickly shift to his cock which is painfully strained against his pants; his hair pulled back into a manbun but it soon begins to unravel. Eren fully discards the hair tie, his brown locks falling to his shoulders.”

Before you know it, Eren is now straddling you. he grabs your hand, swiftly taking your single finger out of your cunt and bringing it to his mouth, licking your finger clean.

Virgin.

Eren’s lust filled eyes dart to your glassy ones. He can feel your trembles beneath him.

Poor baby.

“Pet, what are you so afraid of? I’m not gonna hurt you.” Eren leans down to you biting your earlobe and whispers; “Not unless you want me to of course.”

You begin to panic. “No, no of course not. I’ve just never done this before.” Eren smirks, giving you a peck on the forehead before scooting off the bed to drop down and come face to face with your throbbing cunt.

The sight of your needy little virgin hole waiting to be filled goes straight to Eren’s cock.

Eren quickly runs his index finger across your folds, gathering your juices. A guttural moan escapes your mouth causing you to shove your face into the pillows, hiding from embarrassment. Eren reaches his hand over your body. he cups your face, guiding it to look at him.

But before you start, what and who are you?” You ask with pure curiosity lacing your voice. Eren spreads your legs and traces your outer thighs with his pointer finger, smirking to himself.

And at that moment, Eren plunges three of his fingers into your cunt. You release a pornographic like moan.

“I’m whatever you want me to be.”

And at that moment, Eren plunges three of his fingers into your cunt. You release a pornographic like moan.

Naughty girl.

Eren stops momentarily letting you adjust to his size. And after a few seconds he begins to speed up.

“W-what do you mean whatever I want you to be?” You say whimpers catching into your throat.

Eren’s voice was shrouded with lust and darkness.

“That means I can be Your Friend.”

Eren’s body begins to shift to different parts of the room with each word.

“A Lover.”

“A God.”

“The Devil himself.”

“Eren.”

“A son.”

“A Demigod.”

“A human.”

Every word seems to draw you closer to your release.

“Eren I’m-”

“I know pet, cum for me.”

“I’m- cumming!!!”

“Yes, yes just like that pet you got this.” Eren coos into your ear.

And on cue you cum around Eren’s fingers.

What’s happening?

Why does everything feel so good?

Where am I?

So many questions. But the only thing you could think and care about was how good it finally feels to be corrupted. To finally be conquered by the mysterious boy you feel so connected to for some odd reason.

And suddenly, you’re brought back to reality by the sounds of slurping. You prop yourself up from the bed to see Eren licking his fingers clean from what it seems to be as your juices.

“That was a pretty intense orgasm pet, didn’t know you were a squirter.”

“I didn’t know that either, glad we know now huh?”

“We? So you’re saying there’s a next time?”

“There’s always a next time.”

Eren’s shit-eating grin forms on his face, he gets up and pushes you down onto the bed.

Both of you were panting like bitches in heat. it sure was turning you both on again. But Eren doesn’t do anything. no, he does the opposite. he leans close to your ear and whispers;

“That’s my girl.”

“What-?”

Before you can say anything else, Eren snaps his fingers and disappears. But then the room transports you elsewhere.

You’re blinded by a light which takes you a moment to readjust to the lightning. after a few seconds, you open your eyes and awake in a sandy area. The grainy but soft sand slides across your bare body. And for some reason, your hand comes up to your hair; its long and shoulder length. Then you look up to see trails of light in the sky resembling an aurora.

“Hello?! is anyone here?!” You question, trying to get up from the sand but you can’t move. You begin to panic, heartbeat accelerating. “Hello?!! Someone help me! I can’t move, I’m stuck here!!”

“Hello, is anyone here?” You say trying to get up from the sand but you can’t move.

You begin to panic, your heartbeat begins to accelerate. “Hello?!! Someone help me I can’t move I’m stuck here!!”

You see a figure in the distance.

Its a girl holding a pail. She has blonde hair thats reaches to her shoulder with a headband accompanying it. though her emotions and face looks unreadable.

“HELLO CAN YOU HELP ME PLEASE I DONT KNOW HOW I GOT HERE OR WHY BUT PLEASE HELP ME!!”

The girl crouches down next to you and begins molding your body with the sand.

“Thank you so much. I can’t move, the sand is burying my body.”

But she doesn’t responds. You’re confused. why isn’t she saying or doing anything to help you get out of here?

As you begin to lose yourself in thought, you catch a glimpse of a few more figures. but as they come closer, you realize that there are more people in the crowd.

Hundreds?

Thousands?

Millions?

As they get more and more closer to you, you see they’re all walking in a single file line, each of them chained up by their necks and hands.

You look back to the girl to see if her expression changed even a bit.

Nothing.

She doesn’t even look their way, her eyes paying attention to you and the sand in her hands only.

The people circle around you and the girl, but one of them stands in front of you; their leader. Your eyes dart to the person before you.

“Who are you? What is this place?”

“My name is Carla Jaeger. I’m the past Control Devil, and you’re in the Paths.”

“Paths? Control Devil?”

“Yes, the Paths are where the pervious and most recent Control Devils come to meet but time is irrelevant and conflicting here. The Control Devil is the embodiment of control and order.”

Carla raises her hand out and snaps them, transporting you and everyone to where all the trails converge into one. There, you notice a big glowing-like tree.

“This is the Coordinate. this where all and every human beings come to cross.”

The girl finally stops molding the sand and stands back up with her pail and leaves.

Suddenly, the sand on your body feels lighter so you proceed to get up.

Your appearance has changed. Your hair has become longer and reaches down to your shoulders; the clothes you were once wearing has changed to a white shirt with dark pants and black boots.

As soon you as you rise from the sand, all the previous Control Devil holder’s quickly got down on their hands and knees.

You ignore their presence and you make your way towards Carla.

“I need answers.”

“About?”

“Everything. What the Control Devil is, it’s abilities. and why I am here?”

Carla sighs, her body tenses. “If I do, your life will be forever changed.”

You stand in front of the glowing tree admiring it.

“My life changed when Eren Jaeger appeared in it.”

“How did you? I didn’t say-” Carla says while approaching you. But then she quickly decides against it, sitting down on the sand instead.

“It’s funny how much information you can get from someone’s body language.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you then. But first off, you need to learn the Jaeger curse and why your here.”

“Go on.”

Jaeger curse? You thought.

“You’re a reincarnation of me. Of the Control Devil specifically. When devils die, they’re automatically reincarnated in the Paths.”

“So that’s why I’m here.” Your voice laced with a tone of sadness.

“Yes.”

“And the Jaeger curse?”

“The Jaeger curse is a curse within my family. Or the family I married into to be specific. The curse is tempting someone to willingly give something away to gain something else. 2000 years ago, my husband Grisha fell to the curse. we fought, we both died. and Eren-”

“What happened to Eren?”

“Grisha implanted some of his memories into him. And when you awaken your powers, the memories of Grisha would awaken.” For some reason your blood began to boil and your fists began to ball. You walked to Carla, grabbing her by her chain, forcing her to look directly at you.

“If your implying that my only purpose on this Earth was to kill your only son, then go to hell! What’s the purpose of this reincarnation if all we’re going to do is kill our own flesh and blood?”

“You can’t gain anything in this world without sacrificing something. That’s just how the world is, it’s how that village is.”

“What do you mean that’s how the village is?”

“They’re plotting to kill you both during the Rumbling.”

The Rumbling was a festival where the village would gather together and watch the moon crumble to the sea. it would once again purify the sins of the Earth.

“I’m not letting that happen, not a snowballs chance in hell. How do we break the curse and stop the Rumbling?”

“That’s up to you and Eren I’m afraid.”

Carla’s will over her own body was fading, slowly dissipating. you ran up to her body, grabbing her chain once again, and you closed the distance between you both.

“MY NAME IS Y/N L/N, THE NEXT HOLDER OF THE CONTROL DEVIL! CARLA JAEGER, AND THE PREVIOUS HOLDERS OF THE CONTROL DEVIL, WITH MY ALL AND EVERY SINGLE OUNCE OF MY POWER, I WILL PUT A END TO THIS CURSE AND TO THIS WORLD!”

And with that, every single detail of the Control Devil appeared. All 13 previous holders point their finger at you as their memories come rushing to you simultaneously.

Control Devil Abilities:

Other names; Y/n L/n

Divergence: Crush anyone with an invisible force

Convergence: Can kill anyone if they look, or point at the target

Enhanced smell

Can absorb the life spans of humans through physical contact

Can bestow contracts upon humans

Restores its health by consuming blood

Should revive in Hell after being killed effectively making it an immortal

Hades Abilities:

Other names; Eren Jaeger

Inhuman Speed: Can travel and attack at high speeds.

Can sever the arms of several humans.

Death Stare: If staring directly at another being, they will begin to hemorrhage immense amounts of blood until death.

Like the Control Devil Hades can bestow contracts upon humans

Enhanced smell

Unlike the Control Devil Hades will not be reincarnated if the Jaeger curse is broken

Has the power to call on the Founder

You awake, you’re still in your bed. you look down to see your hand out of your folds with cum oozing out of you.

Oh, so that’s what he did. Smart.

You rise from your bed. The Control Devil’s powers, the markings, and the memories; they’re all freshly settling in your brain.

You make your way towards your bedroom mirror taking in your new appearance.

You smile to yourself tracing your hand on the mirror.

2000 years.

I’m going to kill them all.

I’m going kill them all and I won’t care.

Why?

Because I can and I will.

Starting with that fucking woman.

You put on your shoes, you make your way downstairs noticing that your Mother still wasn’t home but that was alright you thought to yourself knowing you had enough time to carry out your plan.

You enter the kitchen to find the listed items; vinegar, acid, a hammer, and nails.

And you head to the living room to find a stack of playing cards.

You knew that Mother loved white wine, and card games it was her favorites. She talked to fucking much and it’s now going be the reason she dies tonight.

Ironic.

You get two wine cups from the cupboard first filling the cup with actually white wine, secondly adding vinegar, thirdly adding two large doses of acid. And then setting the cards in the middle of the table.

You sit in one of the chairs while propping one of your legs over the other. You decide to drift off to sleep until your Mother arrives home.

You awake from sleep to the sound of a door opening and then quickly closing.

“Ah Y/n sweetie did I wake you?”

“No you didn’t Mother I was actually waiting for you.”

“Oh? What’s the matter?”

“I planned a game for us since we never hangout like Mother and Daughters are supposed to.”

“Oh Y/n you didn’t have to, plus it’s late we should be sleep by now.”

“Oh but I wanted to Mother, and sleep can wait.”

“If you insist then. What’s the game?”

“Drinking and Gambling.”

“What are we gambling?”

Your pathetic life.

“You’ll see.”

“What are the rules?”

“There are no rules we just drink, and talk about our day.”

“Do you want to go first Mother?”

“Sure why not.”

You lean back into your chair patiently waiting for her take a sip of her wine which would cause her to unravel soon, then the real game would begin.

“Nothing really happened today I just worked, helped children and elders at the community center. I met the “Savior” there he told me how good of a person you were. He finds you intriguing. I also meet some of the higher ups who are there to protect Eren their names are Floch, and Armin. He also hangs around a girl named Mikasa.”

“Oh that’s interesting to know thank you so much for sharing.”

“No problem darling, I also went to get food for dinner but it’s cold now so sorry about that.” She starts to giggle a red flush decorating her face showing that the wine is getting to her.

It’s time.

“Let’s play another game shall we? This is going to be the gambling part.” You said taking the cards from the middle of the table, and then opening the box depositing them all on the table in front of you.

“Oooooo cards!!!”

You quietly mutter under your breath; “Contract bestowing.”

“Mother before the game starts I’m going to need you to repeat a few words after me.”

“Mmm sure honey!!!”

Bingo.

“Y/n is going to reveal everything about herself and in exchange if I lie I will die.”

You set the hammer and nails down on the table.

“Uh oh honey what’s with the hammer??”

“Oh nothing it’s just for if you decide to step out of line.”

Your mother’s façade changes within seconds and the real person shows.

“Well well, it seems that my daughter is no longer the girl I thought she used to be.”

“Ah there we are! I wasn’t sure if I would need the extra add-ons.” You said pointing to the nails and then throwing them across the room.

“All I need is the hammer and we’re good to go. So mother, do you notice anything different at all? Have any questions or answers for me?”

“You’re not a virgin anymore.”

“Hehe no I am not, your almighty savior took it for me, which I gladly obliged.”

“You’re a slut.” Your mother said her knuckles turning white from how tightly she held the glass.

“No no I’m not a slut mother I’m the Control Devil, and that “Savior” you were talking about isn't a savior at all, he’s Hades or the god of War and Violence.”

“You’re wrong.” Your mother said tears flowing down her face.

“Am I though? All they want in the end is me and Eren’s head on a stake, and our powers for themselves, they don't care who they hurt unless we’re both 6ft under.”

You get up from your seat making your way towards your mother you crouch down to her ear “In other words, your mere existence means nothing to me and to them, you’re a slave; nothing more than cattle.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see your mother holding a knife in her hand and before you know it she swiftly shoves you with your shoulder causing you to fall down on the floor.

“I’m going to make sure that you die here tonight daughter.”

She stabs you in the stomach multiple times, the squelching of the knife going in and out of your torso almost unbearable for her to hear but at the same time she feels no remorse.

After about 10 minutes of her stabbing you endlessly just to make sure you were completely dead. She drops the knife on blood-covered floor near your body.

She takes in the scene of the bloody living room, the bookshelf she slammed you into disheveled, the wine glass she was drinking out of on the floor, the hammer you had in your hand flew across the living room and it was a few centimeters away from your body.

“Stupid girl.” She sighed turning around but she suddenly stops in her tracks.

“sTUpiD gIRL¿“ You say rising from the blood covered floor.

“How are you-”

“I made sure you were-”

“dEAD¿ aLiVE?”

You begin to laugh hysterically.

“Your supposed to be dead, I stabbed you over at least 100 times.” Her blood running cold at the mere thought.

You begin to walk to your mother with your organs hanging out your stomach, you place your hand into your stomach ripping out one of your large intestine.

By eating one of intestine you instantly get all of your powers, the stab wounds in your stomach heals and disappears.

“tHATS cORRECT yoU dID sTab mE oVer 100 tIMES, bUT yOU fAil tO rEaliSE...”

“What are you?” She said in a hushed tone cutting you off.

The Honored One.

“Divergence.” You said raising your hands snapping them with a sinister simile plastered on your face.

Instantly your mother’s limbs, organs, flesh, blood covers everything in the house, painting your face with a dark crimson red flesh mixed in with it. You turn your head darting to the beating heart in the middle of room picking it up you crush her heart.

“...only my displeasure and pleasure exist. No matter how many times you think you’ve stabbed me, no matter how much you want me dead, only my feelings thoughts, and actions exist.”

The Control Devil has awaken!

The Control Devil has murdered their whole village in a span of 24 hours!

The Control Devil has murdered 1300 people!

Eren’s POV: 2 hours after The Control Devil Awakening, 5 Hours until the Rumbling.

Ah so it’s finally happening.

2000 years.

Oh how I have yearned to meet you Control Devil.

“Master!” I hear Mikasa voice dragging me out of my thoughts.

“What is it Minnie?”

“You need to stay inside HQ, the Control Devil has awakened!” Mikasa says panic lacing her voice but cracks with nervousness.

“Yes I know Minnie. I’m glad you’re here with me.” I say but the eagerness to meet the Control Devil is getting the better of me.

Mikasa face starts to dust with red pure innocence laced with it. But the throbbing in her panties is covered in pure lust.

Ah. There it is.

“Minnie why don’t we dance to your favorite song?”

Mikasa’s face brightens up “Stay with Me by Miki please!”

“Of course” I say getting up to the phonograph.

Stay with Me by Miki Mastubara is now playing.

I cry at your door midnight, but you never came back.

“Master?”

“Yes Minnie?”

“Where were you that night you arrived in the village?” Mikasa said voice laced with pure sadness.

“I met someone new.”

“O-oh”

I reach to cup Mikasa’s cheek.

She hugs me.

“But don’t worry Minnie you’re the only one I have eyes for.”

You always say the same, but I embrace these moments.

“Master I enjoy our time together no matter how short they are.”

“As so do I.”

“But I have a idea.”

“Oh?”

“I want you deflower me. No no I want us to deflower each other, us both being virgins and you saying you only have eyes for me so I think, no I know that I want us to do this as promise to each other. That we would be committed to each other for all of eternity.”

The phonograph comes to a screeching stop.

“Minnie I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”

Mikasa suddenly drops to her knees and begins to cry.

“Master please! We’ve know each other since childhood, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! THERE IS NO ONE ELSE FOR ME ITS YOU IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I COULD DIE.”

Eren crouches down to Mikasa and picks up her gently forcing her to look at him.

“Then die.” Eren looks into Mikasa eyes and her head begins to severely ache.

She beings to scream, her eyes starts to pour out blood, her mouth begins to cough out blood, her ears begin to pool out blood, her nose starts to bleed, but unfortunately for her no one can hear her.

Death Stare.

Her head instantly erupts into nothing but blood and brain matter causing Eren to be covered in blood.

Eren smirks at the mess he’s made.

The phonograph begins to play Stay with Me again.

And those moments are the moments I’ll never forget.

The door opens to you standing there with a delicate simile with blood on your clothes.

Eren sits down in his chair.

“Well well, if it isn’t the Control Devil. Pleasure to meet you.”

To be continued?

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xecutivecucumber · 3 years ago

Text

Rexsoka Week 2021 Day 7: FUBAR

I hope everyone enjoyed my Rexsoka week contributions. I've had a lot of fun with them. Thanks for all the support!

This one is a little less focused on their relationship and more on the...effed up part of things.

TW: Non Graphic Torture

Day 7: FUBAR

Rex had hung for hours. They'd stripped him of his armor and blacks. His arms were wrenched upward and over a horizontal bar of metal. His legs were forced in an uncomfortable position, as if he was doing a squat midair. Most of his weight was on his bent knees. The device he was entangled with seemed to be a relic of the Separatists.

Rex had no hope of getting out of here alive. It would be foolish to go so deep into Imperial territory for one soldier, even as high ranking as he was. And Rex prided himself with the knowledge that he would never give any sensitive information away.

They'd started the normal Imperial interrogation process with him, using an IT-0 droid to try and get him to talk. Rex was better than that. The clones had been trained to resist the mundane mind probe that the droids used.

But then they had stopped. Some higher up wanted to interrogate Rex themselves, and Rex was to be untouched until they got there.

So Rex hung. The pain of his shoulders and knees was probably more effective than what any of the average Imperial idiots could inflict. By the whispered tones of the Imps in charge of him, whoever was coming for Rex was far from average.

Rex didn't fear pain. He'd been under extreme distress, physical, mental, and emotional, before. He hadn't broken then. He wouldn't break now.

Finally, the door slid open, and a tall, dark figure swept in. Its head was covered in a helmet that hid any trace of humanity. The sound of rasping breathing accompanied it, as if each breath was forced in and out of the thing's body. It stared at Rex, and Rex was so transfixed by its blank stare that he almost didn't notice the thing's companion.

A clone, holding his black helmet at his side, with greying hair and a wandering scar down the left side of his face.

Rex's breath caught.

"Cody? " He asked.

He didn't need it confirmed. It was Cody. Rex could never forget his ori'vod's face.

It seemed that Cody had forgotten Rex. He looked Rex over with a blank stare. His chip was still active.

"Captain Rex." The dark figure said in a deep, robotic voice that nudged something in Rex's memory. "You were listed as killed in action."

"Well," Rex said, though he could not tear his eyes from Cody's face. "Reports can be wrong."

"Yes." The figure said. "It seems so. Which leads me to believe that others that were believed dead may yet be alive."

Rex tried not to let his fear show in his face. He knew who this man wanted.

"Tell me." The figure stepped forward. "Where is Ahsoka Tano?"

Rex managed to look away from his brother and into the figure's helmeted face.

"Ahsoka Tano is dead." He said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"I see." The figure said. "Commander, you may begin."

"Yes, Lord Vader." Cody said.

In a fluid movement he withdrew an electrostaff and slammed it into Rex's side. Rex hissed through his teeth as he felt ribs break. Then the electricity began coursing through his body in burning waves. Rex’s jaw clenched involuntarily, keeping him from making much noise.

Rex fell limp as Cody finally drew the staff away.

"Where is Ahsoka Tano?" Vader asked again.

Rex struggled to lift his head.

"She's dead." He said.

Vader stared at him for a long time before turning to Cody.

"Continue."

Ahsoka stole through the halls of the Imperial facility. Rex was here somewhere. At least, that’s what she prayed. The chances of him surviving at the hands of the Imperials seven days were-

Ahsoka refused to let herself dwell on it.

She paused at a corner when she heard the idle chatter of two TK troopers nearby.

"I wish Lord Vader would hurry up and kill the wretch." One complained. "Patrolling the detention level is becoming a real pain."

"Gives me a headache." The other grumbled. "Judging by its screams, I doubt it can last much longer."

Ahsoka's heart quickened. He was alive. She waited for the troopers to move past and quickly made her way to the nearest lift. The Force guided her hands to hit level B3.

The lift opened and Ahsoka felt sick. Rex's screams were echoing throughout the hallway. There was something else; whatever was torturing him was a Force user. A powerful and Dark one at that.

Ahsoka grit her teeth. There went her plan to go in sabers blazing. She edged closer to the area from which Rex's noises of distress were coming from. Soon she could make out words.

" SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD!" Rex was screaming.

So that's what they wanted to know. Ahsoka tried to reach for Rex's mind, but it was saturated with pain, oblivious to everything but the torture being inflicted on him.

Ahsoka found a storage closet adjacent to the room Rex was in. She would have to wait this out, no matter how badly she wanted to stop Rex's tormentors.

After a while Rex's screams turned to sobs, and the words he said changed.

" Kote, vod, gedet'ye!"

Cody, brother, please.

Ahsoka's heart clenched as she translated the words in her head. He was calling for Cody. She prayed that he was seeing some delusion, and that Cody was not playing a part in his torture.

His sobs began to fade. Ahsoka pressed a montral to the wall. A door opened and shut. Ahsoka waited a minute before unsheathing her sabers. She drew them in a circle in the wall and forced the cut section forward. The room she stepped into was overly bright. The floor was tacky and pinkish. Ahsoka swallowed bile before looking at the back of the room.

Rex was twisted around a metal frame, forced into what looked like an excruciating position. He was mostly naked, save for his grey undershorts. It seemed there wasn't a bit of skin that wasn't bruised, burned, or cut. Blood ran in dribbles from fresh slashes on his chest. He didn't look up as she approached him. His head lolled forwards.

" She's dead. " He whispered through chapped lips. " Kote, gedet'ye, she's dead. "

Ahsoka shook herself and wasted no more time in releasing him from his bindings. He'd lost weight in the few days he'd been here, and Ahsoka easily lifted him. A soft groan escaped him as she shouldered most of his weight.

"It's okay, Rex." Ahsoka promised him. "It's over now."

It would be. Even if they were caught, the answer the Imperials wanted was given by her presence. There would be no need to continue his interrogations.

Of course, they could always use him against her.

She quickly scanned near her. There was one guard nearby. The dark presence was getting further away.

Ahsoka set Rex down before slipping out the door. The startled guard didn't have time to make a noise before Ahsoka slammed him against the wall. He crumpled. Ahsoka retrieved Rex and started their painfully slow way down the corridor.

Rex occasionally made soft noises of pain as she jostled him. They got to the turbolift with no incidents. Ahsoka could sense the guards on the level on which her stolen Imperial shuttle was docked. There weren’t many, and by some miracle of the Force she managed to get Rex to the hangar without being seen. He let out a pitiful groan as she quickened her pace.

"I'm sorry." Ahsoka whispered. "We're almost out. Just-"

The dark presence suddenly reappeared, looming between them and the shuttle.

Ahsoka had no time, not with Rex's dead weight, to move before the man to which the presence belonged stepped from behind another ship. If it could be called a man. It seemed more like a droid.

"Ahsoka Tano." It said. "Captain Rex has become a more convincing liar. I almost believed him when he said you were dead."

Ahsoka tensed. She would not leave Rex. But she didn't see a way out of this.

"Something I'm sure you're eager to rectify." Ahsoka spat.

"There is a way for you to survive. For you both to survive." It said. "Join the Empire and you will both live."

"And become whatever you are? No." Ahsoka said.

The figure did not immediately attack.

"You think this path leads to anything else?" It asked. "Your attachment to the clone is far too deep."

"I'm sure it was only attachment that made you fall." Ahsoka said.

Her mind raced. What could she do? She would not leave Rex, but she couldn’t move quickly with his weight. And this thing was powerful .

"I see that you are resolved." The thing said. "Then I offer you this. Surrender, and I will give you both painless deaths."

For half a moment Ahsoka was tempted. Rex's pain was saturating the Force. She didn't want him to hurt anymore. And she saw no way out.

Her hesitation was seen as a refusal. The thing reached out a clawed hand. Ahsoka tensed, but nothing touched her. Rex, on the other hand, stiffened. Ahsoka nearly dropped him as he struggled for air.

"No!" Ahsoka said. "I didn't-"

A blaster shot rang through the hangar. The thing whirled to the side and deflected it with a hand. Rex relaxed.

Ahsoka only paused long enough to see a familiar clone pointing a blaster at the thing. She drew upon the Force and darted forward, past the figure who was concerned with blocking the barrage of blaster fire raining down on it.

"No more!" She heard Cody shout. " No more! "

She reached out briefly to try to connect with Cody and found a shattered mind. Whatever they had done to Rex had been too much for him.

Ahsoka dragged Rex the last few feet to the shuttle.

"Now, R-7!" She shouted.

The shuttle's door began to rise. Right before it shut, Ahsoka saw the Dark creature shear through Cody's chest with a blood red blade.

There was no med bay in the Imperial shuttle, so Ahsoka had to lay Rex on a clean sheet in the middle of the passenger bay. It had taken nearly two hours to dress Rex's injuries. Ahsoka had to set his broken fingers, wrap his ribs, and put bacta on every burn and laceration. He began to stir as she was finishing wrapping the cut up soles of his feet.

He groaned as he shifted, eyes opening to a slit.

"'Soka." He mumbled.

He struggled to lift himself.

"Shhh." Ahsoka said, gently easing himself back down. "Lie still."

She began running her fingers through his short hair in a hopefully soothing manner. He closed his eyes again and his head sagged to the side.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Hurts." He slurred.

Ahsoka frowned. She already had him on pretty heavy painkillers. She couldn't give him more, but she hated that he was still in pain.

She continued to massage his head. She hoped he was heading back to sleep.

"Cody?" He asked.

Ahsoka felt sick at his hopeful tone.

"I'm so sorry, Rex." She said. "He didn't make it."

Rex didn't say anything at first. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Was it-" He struggled to form the words. "You?"

Ahsoka moved her hand to the side of his face.

"That thing killed him." Ahsoka said. "He died so we could escape."

Rex squeezed his eyes shut. The agony that warped the Force around him deepened. He turned his head away from her, a tear tracing down his cheek.

“No more.” He muttered. “ No more. ”

Check it out and my other Rexsoka Fics on A03!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34125910/chapters/85234081

https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveCucumber/works

#rexsoka #rexsoka week #rexsoka week 2021 #rexsokaweek #rexsokaweek2021 #captain rex #ahsoka tano #ahsoka and rex #Day 7: FUBAR #commander cody

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years ago

Text

Away. So, so far away.

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Warnings: fuckin' angst, arguing, alcohol.

Word count: 3,3K

“This is just where I draw the line, you know?”, you said to Bucky over your fifth drink. He was still sipping from that goddamn bottle of beer, as if one more drink would make him talk more. You appreciated his silence, but sometimes he was just unnecessarily quiet. You needed a friend to bitch about your in-laws and he kept staring, and staring, and —fucking staring like a mannequin. If he wouldn’t stare so much, you would even say he was shy. “I can’t believe they actually will reject me over not being a good companion for the King because I wouldn’t carry his child. Do you understand how obscenely sexist and, just… plain gross, that is?”.

“He is a prince, after all”.

“They just don’t like me. They raised Loki making him think he’ll be King, then they stripped it away, and now they did just the same and blame it on a stupid reason like I wouldn’t want to have kids. It’s idiotic, right? Besides, I’ll live much less than him. He could just be with me a while, then I die and then he gets someone else who would want his kids. It’s not that hard”.

“Damn”, he muttered. “You do have a lot to say about them, don’t you?”.

“You’re supposed to be my friend here”.

“I thought Tony Stark played that role for you”, he chuckled. “He’s all about playing roles, isn’t he? The hero, the playboy, the genius… I wonder what of them all he really is”.

“Oh, so you do have opinions”.

“Fuck you”.

“No thanks, I don’t like me that much”.

He laughed loudly. In comparison to every laugh and chuckle you’ve managed to pull out of him so far, this one was the loudest. You laughed with him. He had a very contagious smile.

“A kid is… too much. When you’re fucked up, you fuck up the kid too. When you don’t want one and have one anyway, the kid senses it. They’re sponges, you know?”, he said, asking the bartender for another round with a hand gesture.

“To be friends with Steve ‘Language’ Rogers, you curse a lot”, you chuckled, and he downed the drink in a few gulps, trying to catch up with your drunken state. “But yes, exactly. It’s not only that I think I’m fucked up, because that’s not the only thing that would stop me. I would have kids and work through not being a shit parent, if I wanted to”.

“But you don’t want to. That’s the point”.

“Yeah. And I’m not sure Loki doesn’t want one either. He joins kids that play in the park and lets them toy with his many different animal forms. He loves playing with babies, most of all. He is an innate dad, and I’m… not. And I feel like I’m depriving him of too much. The throne, the kids… He… he deserves better”, your eyes started watering, and Bucky frowned, awkwardly placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey… sometimes things just aren’t meant to be. It’s not that you’re a bad partner. You’re great, for what we all see”, he tried to help you feel better. “It’s just that maybe you’re not meant to be with him. Maybe you need someone who wants the same things that you want”.

“I don’t want anyone other than Loki”, you assured him. He nodded, his eyes still fixed on you as if taking them off would lose your interest. “I’m the problem, I’ll always be”.

“No, you are not”, said the knowingly deep voice that pulled you off your insecurities and brought immediate light to your eyes.

“My Loki!”, you greeted him, cheeks hotter and your hair—so sticky, was it always this sticky?

“My love”, he smiled fondly.

“My fucking God”, Bucky rolled his eyes. Loki didn’t pay any mind to him.

“Come on, little darling. Let’s get you some rest”, he said, placing a hand in the nape of your neck, caressing your skin softly. You got up, and just then realized how drunk you were. All the blood from your body went straight to your head, and grabbed him to not fall down. “How much did they drink?”, he asked Bucky.

Bucky raised his shoulders and pressed his lips in a line.

“A bunch”.

Loki sighed and thanked him for keeping you safe. You walked together from the bar to the parking lot. The lights of the city brimmed over the wet pavement —it had just rained. Shame you were so focused on getting drunk, you would’ve loved to stay under the fat drops.

“How long have you been listening?”, you asked as he clicked your seatbelt on. He sighed and curved his lips in a smile you knew he only used when he lied.

“Not more than the last few words”.

He had obviously listened to it all.

“I’m sorry I keep bitching about it. You really do deserve better”.

“Nonsense. If I wanted kids I would be with someone who wanted them”, he lied again. Was it love, this constant lie? Love sometimes was about keeping your thoughts for yourself. In this case, you weren’t so sure it was. Love wasn’t keeping him from the throne, from kids, from a future he wanted to have. “The only thing I want…”, he started, knowing you would finish the answer.

“...is me, right”, you chuckled. “Can I drive?”.

“Definitely not”.

“Yeah, probably for the best”.

You chuckled, your cheeks reddening at everything and anything. You felt your whole body warm, and wanted more than anything for Loki to place one of his long hands on your thigh —that hot thing he did where he drove with one hand, eyes on the road and half a smirk to your side. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink.

“The thing is, Loki”, you kept talking and he sighed. He didn’t want to listen to you like this. He knew you’d say things you didn’t want him to hear. You never were the kind of drunk that slurred on their words and couldn’t walk straight. You just lacked filters. And you had so, so many filters when sober, that Loki felt like an invasion to listen to you like this. “I know you enough, and I’m afraid you’ll…”.

“Look, love”, he interrupted you, pointing somewhere through the windshield. “That’s your favourite iced yogurt shop, is it not? I’ll get you some, you just wait here in the car, alright?”.

You smiled, looking down to your feet. He got out of the car and in a matter of minutes came back with a package. He drove in silence back home and you didn’t say anything else, understanding the motives behind the iced yogurt stop.

Love was somewhere around listening and not listening. You were too drunk to even think about it now.

You could see it in him. That lit off glitter in his eyes —he could have all of that sweet power he always longed for in the tip of his fingers and he got it stripped away. You could see the grief—no, the anger, the insomnia. Whatever his mother told him, it fucked him up for a whole week, if not more. Maybe he just learnt to hide it better after seven days.

You’d cuddle him to sleep, and when you woke up in the middle of the night because your feet were cold, or your mouth was dry, or your bed felt lonely, he wasn’t there. He left in the middle of the night to be somewhere else, and you couldn’t bring yourself to even ask.

You wandered around the apartment after the first three nights. Looking for him to find it emptier than ever. He wasn’t in any other part of the compound. Not in the common kitchen, the common room, the common anything. Not in his brother’s room, and you didn’t even have to check, but he certainly wasn’t in any other room. He wouldn’t, right?

You went back to bed with a feeling of unease. You didn’t call anyone, didn’t say anyone your lover wasn’t there, because you hoped he’d be there in the morning.

You couldn’t close your eyes until the door opened slowly and Loki sneaked his way back to bed, not realizing you were awake. You pretended to be still asleep, without a clue of his night trip to God knows where. He got undressed. He unfolded the sheets and blankets and wrapped himself around you, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder. His body was cold —so much colder than usual. Externally cold, as if he would’ve been somewhere not even his Jötun skin could keep up with. You sighed in relief, but not so much.

You needed to know if he was wounded. You pretended to turn around in your sleep and passed your hands through his bare chest, as if you were greeting him half asleep. He didn’t seem to realize you were wide awake.

No wounds. Good.

Still cold.

You couldn’t figure it out, and groaned. Loki gasped ever so slightly, and then sighed.

“Awake?”.

You opened your eyes, defeated. His eyes didn’t show guilt. They reflected an emptiness, a treasure that he seemed to have found and lost at the very same hour. Whatever kept him up at night, he went looking for it and now it was gone—and he was disappointed in himself for that. He looked disappointed.

“Where do you go when you leave?”, you whispered. You weren’t accusing him, and he knew. You wanted to know. Not demanding, just asking. If he didn’t want to tell you, you would’ve accepted it. Should you? You would. You felt powerless in these situations, now that he had given everything up for you. You shouldn’t.

He rolled off the bed and sat on his feet, looking down. Only the blue shine of the moon illuminated his features, his body, his sore muscles from all the fighting he has gotten involved into lately ��missions, more and more training, verbal fights with everyone and himself included, except you—you were always his exception. Was that a good thing, now? It was. You were sure it was.

“Jötunheim”, he said. The word weighed on his tongue, and he clenched his jaw right after saying it. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I might have ruined everything”.

“What do you mean?”.

“I… I really hope nobody notices. I really hope… Heimdall keeps it to himself. I’ve been rejected, and now the war is all against me. I hope only me”, he muttered, his gaze drifting off everywhere and anywhere. “I hope only me. If I brought you too into this… oh, no”.

“What do you mean, love?”, you asked quietly, firm eye contact on him, grabbing both his arms with so little space left between you. Such a nice comparison with the arm-length grab that still resonated on his shoulders. “What happened?”.

What happened? you asked him, and he thought that’s such a pure and raw form you showed his love to him. You weren’t asking what have you done even if he left all hints that he did wrong. You wouldn’t accuse him of wronging anything or anyone unless he himself would hand you the hard evidence proving that he was wrong. Was that love? Or blindness?

No, you weren’t blind. You understood he was wronging something. You noticed every quirk of his lips and eyebrows when he lied—and you ignored it. You acknowledged every bad he ever did to anyone—and also acknowledged his apologies. You weren’t blind, you didn’t see past it. You saw so much through it, that you understood his motives. And, for you, his motives were always enough.

That, right there, was love, Loki thought.

He was exhausted. All he had to do in there, did it hiding from Heimdall’s eye. And that form of magic left him drained as ever. He was tired from the fights and the bargains, from hiding, from showing himself too much, from having to do so many things and getting none done. He laid on bed and put his head over your abdomen. You caressed a few strands of his almost frozen raven locks, wet with melted snow. His hand trembled ever so slightly.

“Let us sleep and I'll tell you in the morning, alright?”.

When you woke up that next morning, the bed was empty again. But your heart relaxed as soon as you heard the kettle boiling on the small kitchen, a knife hitting against a plate —the sound of the fruit being cut, the bread getting toasted flying over the fire of the stovetop.

You got on your feet and walked there, lingering in the way in. He was barely dressed—a black boxer, that one with the grey lines that made his ass look amazing, a cotton sweater with a lit off tone of blue that made his eyes glow. His hair in a messy low bun that hardly got the curled hairs that fell shamelessly over his face.

He moved his hand and the toasts flew to a plate, right by the fruit. He served the water carefully on the teapot and just as he left it over the countertop again, you reached for his waist and planted a kiss on the nape of his neck.

“Morning, dear”.

“Morning, sweet”.

And there it was—that silence again. It lasted all breakfast, except for the innocuous what will you do today and his voice reading the papers out loud. He didn’t say what he did in Jötunheim but he seemed to remember it vividly. That emptiness in his eyes was now filled with terror. You remember him being terrified at the mention of one name, and one name only. And you were afraid the Mad Titan had something to do with it —once again.

He closed the paper over the table and looked at you fondly. Smiled softly, and grabbed your hands, drawing small circles with his thumbs. A halo of green lights surrounded you two, and you understood he was now hiding from Heimdall, again. He took in a gulp of air and got ready.

“I went to Jötunheim to claim my throne”.

You nodded, unable to hide surprise in your expressions. With raised eyebrows, your lips parted to form a,

“Oh?”.

“I had to take the chance. I messed up”.

“Why?”.

“I got rejected”.

That didn’t seem like it. He never got rejected in these things. He got defeated. He bargained with words and threats and what not more, with all the things he knew how to bargain in these situations, sharp as a knife, sharp as only he could be. He was terrified, of what? What stopped him in place? What froze the frost giant?

“What are you scared of?”, you asked in a whisper.

“They might take something or someone away”.

Freedom. He was scared of getting locked up again. He was scared of getting you away from him. He was scared of a million other things that seemed irrelevant in the face of those two options.

“They can’t lock you up, my love, you’ve done nothing wrong”.

“It’s treason to the crown”.

“Oh”, you nodded. “How would they find out? How are you hiding it?”.

“I spared my share of threats, enough for Laufey’s predecessors to not say a word”, he said lamely, “if they were wiser than they are. They’re a sack of oafs”.

“Alright”, you said, looking out the window. “Seems like there’s not much else for you to do, other than worry”. He sighed and came back to drawing circles in the back of your hands. “Join me on a mission, take your head off these matters”.

He smiled, and kissed your knuckles.

"We'll see".

“You’re being so stubborn”, you sighed, sitting on the couch. “We’ve talked about this over, and over, and over”.

“We talked about things over and over and not even once you have been completely honest”, he said, with that composed facade of him. “Not in this, not in anything”.

“I’m the one not being honest here, now?”, you inquired, looking up at him. He was standing in front of you. He frowned.

“What does that even mean? I’m always honest with you”.

“You’re either dishonest with me or with yourself. But we both know very well that you have no intention of…”.

“Oh, Norns. Again with that”.

“You brought it up”.

“I’m listening, then. Will you finally tell me what you actually think of it? Or will you melt your desires and adjust them until they solidify around whatever you think might please me?”, he spat with sarcasm.

“What are you even complaining about with that?”.

“I want you to be true to yourself, not some… Not some…”, he gestured with his hands, and you furrowed your brows.

“Not some what?”.

“Not some idiotic worshipper of some kind. You sound like a teen with a crush, rather than an adult partner building something here”, he said, and he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth. You got up from the couch.

“That’s what you truly think of me?”, you tried to keep your voice down. Anyone could hear you from the hallway. You tried —but you weren’t very successful. “I’m ready to give everything up for you and you think of it as a desperate attempt to worship you? You really think I think of yourself as a God who casually decided to be with me?”.

“No, that’s not…”, he rolled his eyes, but you kept talking.

“We worked so well together because we knew exactly what the other wanted and tried to get there without crushing the other one. And now…”.

“Worked?”, he scoffed. “We work. We might argue some time, but we work, my love. And that’s the point. We just have to find a way out of this mess, that wouldn’t get us even deeper in this disaster”.

You looked at him, looking for any trace of a lie. He wasn’t. He was truly calm, even though he had gotten on your nerves so well. He could have the same calmness to tell you how much he loved you and to tell you you were crushing his dreams with your thumb.

“I get what you say. I really do. But, is it really important to do whatever you’re thinking of doing to solve this? Or is this just your general… power thirsty blindness guiding you through?”.

He scoffed.

“Power thirsty blindness”, he repeated, incredulous. “I thought you understood every motive behind my actions”.

“I do. But you can’t deny half of the motives are wanting to rule the realms”.

“Half of the motives are you”, he raised his voice.

“That’s not true”, you matched his tone. “You’re playing a weird limbo where you say you’re giving up every dream you’ve ever had for me, letting the guilt eat me alive, and then just… going off somewhere to still try and get what you want. That’s not a relationship-guided motive. And it’d be okay if you could just come to terms with it. And then, and only then, we’d be able to talk through it better and find a better way to make it work. But so far, you haven’t been honest at all about it”.

“Why the need of being honest if you can apparently read me like a children's book?”, he said sarcastically. “Oh, and don’t even get me started with honesty, because…”.

“Because what?”.

He took a deep breath and composed himself back again, denying with his head, eyes closed as he figured out the right words or the right actions. He sat on the couch and asked you to sit by his side with a hand gesture.

“You know what? I think we’re really, really tired. This argument is getting nowhere and we’ll just feel bad afterwards. Can we talk about this in a more civilized way after we get some rest?”.

You sighed and sat by his side, still tense.

“Yes. Alright”.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 , @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @enderslove)

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fortisfiliae · 4 years ago

Text

Promised Part 14 - Tom Riddle x reader

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3.7k

Part 14 - Gaunt Manor

The weeks after Nagini had shed and you had added her skin into the antidote got more and more exhausting. The potion needed tending up to twelve times a day now and unfortunately, you didn’t own a time turner. Both Tom and you had not gotten a full night’s sleep in a while and it started to show. Every day that went by seemed to last for an eternity while the circles under your eyes carved deeper and deeper by the minute.

The curriculum had gotten more challenging, as the teachers were preparing their students for the N.E.W.T.s. Homework was harder and more time consuming than in any other year before and you had to study for hours afterwards as well. These things alone were enough to wear out most students from year seven. Because of that, thankfully no one got suspicious of how drained you looked. Except for Camille. She had started to ask a lot of uncomfortable questions whenever you had left to take care of the potion. She knew you too well. Sneaking out every two hours to go to the Come and Go Room on top of your studies and school work had drained you to the point where you must have looked like a walking corpse.

One day, when Professor Leveret had dismissed you after an exceptionally long Astronomy lesson in the late evening, you had reached your breaking point and were on the brink of tears, pondering about failing every single subject at the end of the term. There was little to no energy left inside of you. So little, you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry, but merely stared into space with reddened eyes and parted lips. Tom brought you to his room that night and went to the Come and Go Room alone. And when you were in bed, you were too tired to fall asleep. How ironic. You never knew that was even possible. But once you weren’t distracted anymore, your mind started to wander. It was impossible to keep up with everything at once. You would either fail your N.E.W.T.s or spoil the potion. The latter would be worse of course and for no price would you let your sister down, so you mentally prepared yourself to either leave Hogwarts without graduating or repeat your entire seventh year. Oh, there were the tears. Finally. They ran and flowed along with hollow sobs and wouldn’t stop now that they were coming.

What if the Gaunts were so appalled by your failure that they would call the wedding off before you could cure Elsie? They could easily paint you as a disgrace for not completing school and make your sister pay for it. No matter how it would turn out, they would take it out on her. The plan had worked so well until now and yet you were still desperately trapped inside Marvolo’s web.

Half an hour must have passed when Tom came back. The cushion beneath you was damp from the tears that had rolled down your cheeks and you held your breath to prevent another whimper from escaping your mouth. You hastily wiped your face and turned your back on him, trying to breathe slowly and act as if you were asleep. But he noticed, of course. And even his well-chosen words of comfort couldn’t ease your mind. You couldn’t let yourself fall into his touch and allow yourself to drift off to sleep because you knew that in two hours, the circle would start once again.

The next day, when you sat on Tom’s sofa together to study for Transfiguration, and you had just started reading the same paragraph for the third time since you just couldn’t concentrate, it just rolled off your tongue.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Tom looked up from his book. “What, the twentieth chapter? I just-”

“No, not this,” you sighed and threw your book on the coffee table. “I mean everything. This whole situation. It’s too much.”

“Well,” he said and laid his book aside too. “It certainly is a challenging time. The N.E.W.T.s, the schoolwork and the antidote.”

Challenging was an understatement.

“I just need a full night’s sleep, or two,” you mumbled. “And you do too. We need help, it’s inevitable.”

“Help?” he asked, brows raised. “What do you have in mind? Ask Hilt to look after the potion?”

His expression changed once he had seen how you shifted. “No. Don’t tell me that’s what you were thinking.”

“I thought about asking Camille for help. She wouldn’t tell anyone and she’s always been great at Potions,” you explained. “And then I thought, Ben would ask her where she’s going all the time. He wouldn’t leave her alone anyway. So I considered telling them both.”

Tom looked like he had been petrified for a second, not moving a muscle. “But you’d have to tell him about the pact.”

“I know.”

“That’s what he was after since the beginning.”

“Yes. But I think we can trust him.”

“You think?” he asked. “Why, because he’s stopped Freda’s quill? That’s enough to gain your trust?”

“It’s not like we have a lot of options, Tom,” you replied, slowly but surely getting annoyed by his constant suspicions. “Camille wouldn’t be with him if he was a snitch.”

“We will just plan better. It won’t be easy, but we-”

“No. This is too much work for two people. Just look at us. We’re both barely keeping up. It won’t be long until we’re completely worn out. We need help.”

Tom’s brows were furrowed, still not convinced even if he understood. You stretched out your hand towards him and waited for him to hold it.

“If we don’t ask for help we’re going to mess up. I’ll either fail my N.E.W.T.s or the antidote won’t be finished. No matter what happens, Elsie will pay for it. Please.”

Camille and Ben looked at Tom and you like you had both lost your minds when you took them to the seventh floor. They had asked so many questions on the way there, but you were far too tired to answer them all. Besides, they would just be able to see for themselves in a bit.

When you had arrived, you said to them once more: “I’m going to show you something now. And it is unbelievably important that you understand this needs to stay between us. No one else must know.”

Camille and Ben nodded, both with serious and still confused looks on their faces.

“And might I add,” Tom said as he looked directly at Ben. “That my memory charm is very powerful. If you can’t keep your mouth shut I’ll obliviate you and I might even make you forget that you have magic running through your veins.”

Ben nodded again. “Alright mate, I got it.”

The door to the Come and Go Room appeared and the two wore the same expression that you must have had when you had first seen it.

“Come in,” you said as you opened the door.

The room was a bit tight with the four of you in there. You stirred the liquid inside the cauldron like you did each time while Ben and Camille looked around curiously.

“A potions room?” Camille asked once the door had been closed. “Now, can you please tell us what’s going on?”

You looked at Tom, who stared back at you, lips pressed together and still unsure if what you were about to do was a good idea. But still, he nodded. He had every right to be suspicious, you had to admit now that you had brought them there. But Camille was to be trusted and frankly, you were far too tired to think of any consequences.

So you began to tell them everything from where it all had started, a day before the school year, at your house. Camille knew half of the story already, but once you told them about the Gaunts and that they were the ones who had cursed Elsie, she stood there wide-eyed, just like Ben.

“And this is why I wanted to ask you both for your help with the potion,” you said once you had told them every detail. “If you don’t mind of course. If you’re willing to help, everyone would just have to come here three times a day. That would make our lives a lot easier.”

They didn’t even need to look at each other and nodded right away.

“Of course,” Camille said. “It all makes sense now. Oh, you must be exhausted. Twelve times a day?”

“I can come more often if you want,” Ben chimed in. “I don’t have as much to do as you, my N.E.W.T.s are still a year away and I wouldn’t have bothered studying much this year anyway.”

“What a surprise,” Tom muttered, even though there was a hint of a smirk on his face.

“One more question,” Ben said. “What about the last ingredient? Banshee tears you said, right? Where are you going to get those?”

“Well. That’ll be the final obstacle.”

“My uncle owns a flask,” Tom explained. “He and my Grandfather will be out next week and we’ll go and try to get them. Our house-elves will be on high alert however, so it’s going to be risky.”

“So,” Ben said. “When are we going?”

“We?” Camille and you asked simultaneously.

“You can’t sneak your way in anyway with the elves around, right?” he said. “Four people are a better distraction than two. I’m in.”

“You weren’t even invited in,” Tom said.

“I don’t care,” Ben shrugged. “I’m still in if you need me.”

Tom sighed as he walked in circles around the cauldron, his hand covering his mouth while he considered Ben’s offer. “As much as I hate to admit it,” he then said. “I think you might be right. A distraction could be of benefit.”

“See?” Ben chuckled. “The muggleborn isn’t that dumb after all.”

“Oh brush off the arrogance, Hilt. We don’t have the flask yet.”

“Boys, please. Let’s discuss that another time and let me show you how to tend to the potion.”

You spent the following week planning for Saturday, when the Gaunts would leave their manor to attend the honouring of the Order of Merlin. You had also gotten some most needed hours of sleep. Not only that but just knowing that Camille and Ben were taking some weight off your shoulders made it much easier to concentrate on school and homework as well.

On Saturday evening, when you met at the fireplace connected to the Floo-Network, you went over your plan again.

“And don’t forget,” Tom said. “There are two house-elves. They’re loud, but not very bright. Much like Gryffindors.”

Camille stifled a laugh and looked over to Ben.

“Mate,” Ben replied. “Can you stop bullying me? I’m helping you out here.”

“Sorry,” Tom answered and bit the inside of his cheek. “I was just joking.”

“Oh yes. Riddle’s first joke in eighteen years and of course I take the fall.”

“Guys,” you scolded. “Get it together. Do you remember everything?”

“Yes,” Camille replied. “We are Theresa Carrow and Connor Prewett, your new and very pureblooded friends. We’ll be distracting the house-elves while Tom and you look for the flask. Once you got it, Tom will obliviate them and we'll come right back here.”

“Alright then,” you said as you watched Tom disappearing inside the fireplace. “See you there.”

The green flames consumed you whole once you let the Floo Powder fall and transported you swiftly to Gaunt manor, where you found yourself in a dark hallway, the reception hall, perhaps.

Tom was there already and offered his hand for you to step out of the fireplace. Camille came next, followed right by Ben. Before you could say anything, you heard two raspy, high-pitched voices coming your way.

“Who is it?” one voice asked. “Master? Is it you?”

“Show yourselves,” the other voice croaked and the elf snapped her fingers, making all the candles around the room light up. It still was dim, but you could see them a bit better now. Both of them were wrinkly and old, their faces scrunched up in suspicion. They didn’t look like the elves at your home at all but were hunching and worn out, completely different to Tummy. The male elf, Scrook, missed a large piece of his left ear and the female one, Hokey, walked with a severe limp.

“Master Riddle,” Scrook said once he had detected him and bowed tediously. “What do we owe the honour? Master Gaunt didn’t tell us you would visit today.”

“He didn’t?” Tom asked. “He must have forgotten. I told him that I’d come by today. Isn’t he here?”

“No Master,” Hokey answered. “They just left thirty minutes ago. Should we inform them for you?”

“Not necessary. I just wanted to treat my friends to dinner, you see. May I introduce you to Miss Carrow, Mister Prewett, and my fiancée.”

“Oh, networking, yes,” Scrook said and bowed once again. “Welcome to Gaunt manor.”

“Shall we prepare some food for you, Master?” Hokey asked.

“Certainly. Bring my guests to the sitting room, will you? I’ll join in a bit.”

“Of course, Master. Of course.”

The two elves escorted Camille and Ben to the back, bickering and wrangling like an old couple.

“Quick now,” Tom whispered to you and walked the opposite way, towards the basement. The whole mansion was cold and dark, mahogany bleakly spread across the floors and even on some walls. The marble staircase in the entrance hall might have looked impressive, but only added to the frigid aesthetic of the house.

“Allow me to ask, Mister Prewett,” Scrook said while Ben and Camille took a seat. “What magical family do you belong to? I’ve never heard your last name before.”

“I, uh. I’m related to the Black family,” Ben said.

“The noble and most ancient house of Black,” Hokey crowed. “What an honour.”

The corridor to Morfin’s chamber was long, you had walked there for at least a minute, and it got even colder with every step you took. When you finally reached the door at the far end, Tom halted and you took a deep breath. Tom turned the doorknob, but the entry remained closed.

“Locked,” he said. “Alohomora.”

The door stayed shut. Tom frowned. That would have been too easy.

“A different spell?” you asked. “Or is there a key somewhere?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s a charm.”

Merlin’s beard. What could it be? You thought about what Morfin could have done to lock the door. Something that only he or Marvolo would be able to use.

“What about Parseltongue?” you asked. “Does Morfin know it too?”

“Yes,” Tom answered and proceeded to speak unfamiliar words in the language. The doorknob clicked and sprung open by itself. “There we go.”

Meanwhile, in the sitting room, one of the elves got more and more interested in Ben and Camille’s backstory. “Can Scrook offer you a drink Miss? Sir?” he asked, while Hokey was busy in the kitchen. “Please, if you don’t mind, Mister Prewett. Would you tell me how exactly you’re related to Arcturus Black? Master Morfin is on good terms with him and I wonder why I’ve never heard of you before.”

When you entered Morfin’s chamber you were surprised by its size. It was almost as large as the entire Potions classroom in Hogwarts. Dead bats and shrunken heads were hanging down from the low ceiling here and there, along with strange feathers and strings that must have been some creature’s strands of hair. Despite its size, the room was crammed with bottles, finished potions and ingredients of all sorts. It wasn’t messy, not at all, but very chaotic for anyone unfamiliar.

“Morfin arranges everything by type,” Tom said. “Liquids from living creatures must be in this corner then.”

You both started opening the drawers and looked for anything that could possibly be Banshee tears.

Ben and Camille still got cross-examined by Scrook. “Interesting, interesting. Mister Black is your great-uncle, you say. Have you met him lately?“

In the chamber, you had searched for over ten minutes already, and gone through hundreds of little flasks. The number of different liquids in this room must have been in the thousands. Slughorn’s stock was absurdly small compared to this.

“Can’t we just use a summoning charm?” you sighed, going through your fifteenth drawer of vials filled with animal blood.

“No,” Tom said while closing a drawer. “The elves would notice it immediately.”

You shoved yet another drawer shut. “Bloody hell. What if it’s hidden?”

“That’s possible,” he mumbled, still scanning over all the flasks inside the cupboard.

“Wait,” you said. “What if we’re looking in the wrong place?”

“All liquids are here, as I said.”

“Yes, but I just remembered. Slughorn said this years ago. Banshee tears when stored, turn into tiny, pearly white crystals.”

Tom lifted his head to look at you.

“Where are the solids stored?”

He pointed at the opposite corner of the room. “Over there.”

At the same time, Hokey brought appetizers into the sitting room. “Enjoy,” she grumbled, her tone not fitting her kind words at all.

“Thank you,” Ben said after he and Camille had taken some canapés from the tray.

Both elves froze in shock, deeply offended. “Sir, you have not just thanked Hokey, have you?” Scrook asked.

“Of course not,” Camille stated, holding her head high. “What are you thinking? He thanked me for handing him a canapé.”

“I see,” Scrook said, eyes narrowed. “I’ll go and look for Master Riddle now. He’s taking awfully long, whatever he’s doing.”

“No!” Camille and Ben shouted which lead the elf to turn back around.

“No,” Camille repeated, her voice a lot calmer. “I’d like to know more about this house. Can you tell us how long you have worked for the Gaunts?”

In the chamber, you went through the flasks and glass containers on the other side of the room, where the solid ingredients were stored, while Tom still roamed the liquids. And finally, between fairy wings and unicorn liver, lay a tiny flask of Banshee tears.

“Got it,” you called. “There it is.”

Tom walked right over and checked out the flask too. “Good girl, very smart thinking.”

You lightly pushed him with your elbow for what he had just called you and smiled. “Let’s go.”

Scrook had gotten disturbingly close to Ben. “I’ll gladly tell you all about this house, Miss,” he said, not taking his eyes off the boy. “When Mister Prewett reveals his real name.”

“My real name?” Ben asked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not a pureblood, are you?” the elf hissed. “I can smell it.”

“Excuse you, elf!” Camille bellowed. She was a much better actress than Ben. “You surely didn’t mean to insult Mister Prewett in that way. I must have misheard you. Now apologise.”

Before they knew it, Scrook had gripped Ben’s hand and pulled it towards his own face, sniffing at the inside of Ben’s underarm. “I knew it!” the elf yelled. “Mudblood! Hokey quick, alarm the Masters!”

Hokey came running in from the kitchen at the same time as Tom and you arrived in the sitting room. All three of you stood there in the archway and looked at Camille, Ben and Scrook in disbelief.

“Traitors!” Scrook screamed and accidentally knocked the tray of canapés off the table. “What have you done, Master Riddle? Bringing a mudblood into these halls.”

Ben had finally wrenched his arm away from the elf, holding on to it tightly while standing up straight, his chest heaving.

“The Masters must know,” Scrook whined and turned around. “We have to tell them immediately, Hokey.”

“Enough,” Camille said as she rose from her seat. “Stupefy!”

In an instant, Scrook fell to the floor without another word, completely unconscious. Hokey let out a yelp at the sight, turned around and ran toward the kitchen.

“Quick, before she apparates,” you shouted.

“Stupefy,” Tom called with his wand pointed at Hokey. “We don’t have much time. The charm wears off on elves much quicker than on humans.”

Ben and Tom dragged the two elves to the entrance hall and dropped them next to the fireplace, while Camille cleaned up the mess on the floor, where the canapés had landed.

When you had gathered by the fireplace again, Scrook already opened his eyes, blinking slowly.

“Leave,” Tom urged and pointed his wand at the elves. “Obliviate.”

Camille went first and disappeared into the flames, followed by Ben and you.

Back in Hogwarts, when Tom stepped out of the fireplace, you finally felt like you were able to breathe again.

“We did it,” you said and fell into his arms. “I can’t believe we really did it.”

Tom held you for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, then moved his head and looked at Ben when he let go. “What happened?”

Ben still hadn’t calmed down. He rubbed his hands on his trousers repeatedly and shook his head. “I don’t know. They were shocked when I thanked them for serving us food. Then the elf said he could smell that I’m not a pureblood.”

“You thanked them?” Tom asked. “Elves don’t accept that.”

“How am I supposed to know that? I’ve never seen a house-elf before.”

“Forget about that now,” Camille interrupted. “Did you get them? The Banshee tears.”

“Yes,” you said and pulled them out of your pocket. “We got them.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets ~ 1

Warnings: noncon sexual acts later in series

This is dark!Bucky and dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A buried family secret comes to light thrusting you to the forefront of an old alliance.

Note: Bruh, other series are still going. At least one update a week for existing series in future, I promise! Probably more.

This was semi-inspired by The Princess Diaries but obviously we’re not going highschool.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You found it hard to focus on the lecture. You copied the slides without processing the words. You couldn’t tear your mind from the unusual stranger. The one who had slipped from the room not ten minutes earlier. The one no one else seemed to notice; even the professor as she outlined the fall of the Roman Empire.

You did because you were early every week. You sat in the same seat, pulled out your notebook and pen, and put your phone on silent. You’d worked too long to screw this up. Years of saving and scrounging just to pay the application fee, bursaries awarded for your volunteer work and nearly forgotten extracurriculars from high school.

So, you noticed. The man sat in the back row with not a possession before him. Silent, discerning, and to be frank, a bit too old for the student body. Even you, after several years away from academics, thought so. You used the reflection in your phone screen to watch him and when he stood and left without cause, you angled it after his departure.

Perhaps he had come to the wrong room. Or maybe he had got the wrong time. He could be an older student or a guest speaker. Whatever he was, he was gone and you needed to focus. You didn’t have much time outside of class to revise your notes. Between your job at the campus bookstore and your intern position at the museum, you didn’t have time for anything beyond a few hours sleep.

You packed up as the lecture came to an end. Tuesdays, Professor Halren went over the week’s material and Thursdays you had a class discussion on the assigned articles. Basic, simple, but at least eighty pages of reading a week. You climbed the steps between the rows of tables and passed through the upper doors. The east entrance down the rear stairwell was the quickest exit.

You tossed your bag in the passenger seat of your crummy used Honda, parked in front of the burger joint several blocks away from campus parking. It cost you more to park on-site than it did for the beat-up contraption itself.

You drove to the museum and got out, your lanyard around your neck denoting you as a volunteer. You usually worked the help desk or handed out pamphlets for upcoming tours. Most of the time it was quiet enough for you to study in between visitors.

Sheila was the curator on duty that night. She kept to her office, saying she trusted you to direct the rare patrons who arrived on a Tuesday night. As expected, it was dead. You wandered around with textbook in hand, occasionally looking up to check that you were alone.

There was a man by the chart of Greek gods and their relations. A spiderweb with no end. You closed your book and quietly set it down on the nearest bench as you kept an eye on the man. It was him, the one from the lecture hall. A frightening coincidence. He leaned closer to the diagram then turned away, walking, no marching along the wall and rounding the corner into the next section.

Your heart was beating; in confusion and fear. You followed, carefully not to let your shoes click as you did. As you reached the next corridor, he was nowhere to be seen. You continued on, around corner and corner, on and on, looking up and down the walkways. He was gone.

You came back to the bench where you left your textbook. You glanced around one last time and opened it. Behind the cover was a ribbon, a tricade of red, white, and blue, a star emblazoned three-quarters of the way up embroidered in gold and silver. You’d seen it before but none so new as this.

You held it up and felt it between your fingers. You closed the book again and tucked it under your arm. You went to the next wing; medieval history. You walked along the timeline of European kingdoms, below each was a display of royal families of each.

The same ribbon, aged and frayed, laid beneath the kingdom of Astrania, marked by the house of Rogers. A long storied bloodline thrust in and out of power by civil wars and politics well into the twentieth century. A country that stood still, one of the few who still lauded a monarch, as famous as the Windsors in England and beyond. The last vestiges of long lost era.

You shoved the ribbon in your pocket. It was likely a souvenir from some commodified tour of the country. A forgotten novelty sold for pennies and shoved into a used textbook. You shrugged and headed back to your usual spot among the ancient civilizations. Strange things happened. That was life.

👑

You spent your few hours before midnight writing up your rough draft for Life and Death in Ancient Greece then finally crashed. You slept on your back, uncomfortably; a heavy, exhausted sleep. You woke to voices. Your mother’s and another. One you didn’t know.

You checked the time, it was barely seven in the morning. You grumbled as you sat up. Your mother’s tone set you on edge as her voice rose. You stood and crossed to the door. You turned the handle slowly, listening through the crack of the door as you eased it open.

“You get out of my house.” She snarled. You’d never heard her sound so vicious. “I am not that person anymore. I never was.”

“You can hide behind a name,” The deep voice replied evenly. “It doesn’t change your real one.”

“My father is dead, his name died with him.” She hissed. “I won’t tell you again to leave.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll call the police, asshole.”

“I’ve been sent here under the banner of diplomacy, what are they gonna do?”

You stepped out as the argument continued, your mother growing angrier as you tiptoed down the hallway to the kitchen. She grabbed a frying pan from the dish rack as you stopped in the doorway and she waved it at the man standing on the other side of the table.

“I’ll just have to make you,” She warned. “Now go--”

“Mum,” You rubbed your eyes. “What’s going on?” You looked to the man as he turned to look at you. It was the same man from the day before. You recoiled and pressed yourself to the wall. “Who is that?”

“No one. He’s leaving.” She edged around the table and drew back the frying pan.

He didn’t move. She swung and he caught the pan as his palm deflected it away from his head. He wrenched it away from her and tossed it away.

“Sit down, your highness,” He glared at your mother as he clanked the pan against the table.

You frowned and looked at your mother. Her eyes glinted at you and she shook her head.

“You will not tell my daughter what to do,” She scowled. “Not in my house.”

“You can send me away now, but I’ll be back.” He looked around the kitchen. “Looks like you can afford a fine lawyer, indeed.”

“Lawyer?” Your mother spat.

“There’s a contract, Princess,” He sneered.

“There is no kingdom left. No crown, no throne.” Your mother neared and grabbed your wrist, drawing you to her. “My daughter does not belong to anyone.”

“Your own father signed the accord. We paid our dues, even after his fall, we expect you to fulfill your end of the contract.”

“My father is dead,” She pushed in front of you, shielding you from the man. His square jaw twitched and his blue eyes glimmered defiantly.

“As his heir, you would acquire his responsibility. She is his first born granddaughter.” The man asserted.

“She has no title.” Your mother insisted. “You can see we have no wealth, no holdings. We are displaced; we are common.”

“Princess Karissa of Ecklun,” The man addressed your mother, “Her daughter, Duchess of Brey. You needn’t land to uphold your titles… and your obligations.”

“The contract is old. Outdated.” Your mother countered. “There are other duchesses. Real ones.”

“The contract is legal still, it has been upheld to this point and there is no clause for annulment. Unless of course you have the funds to buy out the agreement.” He challenged. “Fifteen million, with interest.”

Your mother was silent. He hand squeezed your wrist.

“I never received any of these payments you claim to have made,” She said.

“In a trust, as stated in the contract, to be accessible upon the day of marriage.” He declared. “If you insist, however, I can return with my legal council… and a military escort.”

Your mother let out a long breath. She released you and shakily pulled out a chair from the table. “Sit,” She gestured you forward and drew another chair out. “I’ll entertain your… discussion.”

You stepped forward and sat and she did too. The man across from you lowered himself into another chair and set down his briefcase on the floor. He reached inside and drew out a bundle of papers. He slid them across to your mother.

“If you’d like to look over the terms,” He smirked. “You’ll see all is as I said.”

“He couldn’t find another bride?” She spat as she ignored the contract.

“Not legally.” He insisted and looked at you. “Forgive me. I didn’t introduce myself, your highness. James Barnes, I am a representative of the Astranian court.”

“I don’t--” You blinked. “I don’t understand what’s--”

“Yes, apparently your mother has created a convincing ruse here in this… slum,” He sighed. “What do you know of your grandfather?”

“Don’t talk to her.” Your mother snipped. “Talk to me.”

“She must know--”

“I will explain. That is my responsibility. My right.” She sneered and grabbed the papers.

She flipped the first page, then the second, she continued as she hastily read through it. You peeked over her shoulder but she kept turning away to block you. When she finished, she turned it face down.

“You signed it, Princess,” The man said.

“I was sixteen.” She said. “I was still a child.”

“You were a married woman.” He returned.

“A girl forced into a ring.” She slapped the paper. “And you would have me do the same to my daughter?”

“You already did,” He said plainly. “And she is older. Quite a few years, in fact.”

“It took you years to find us,” She grinned. “You think you’ll be as lucky again?”

“You are being watched. You have been watched.” He pushed his shoulders back. “We have waited long enough.”

“Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” You said.

The man, Barnes, looked at you. Appalled.

“I will,” Your mother squeezed your arm. “Mr. Barnes.” She turned back to him, her head held high. “Might you allow me some time to prepare?”

“To run?” He challenged.

“If we are being watched as you say, that should not be an issue,” She sniffed. “You must understand the circumstance.”

“I do understand your negligence,” He raised a brow. “One day. That is all I can allow you.”

He left the contract and stood. He took his briefcase and nodded to the table. “A copy for your records.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and flicked it onto the document. “My information should you require it.”

He bowed his head and turned to leave you. The door opened and closed loudly as he strode out the back door. You sat, perplexed, and reached for the contract. Your mother caught your hand. She turned to you and drew your hand back with her.

“Honey,” She said softly. “I need you to listen to me. Just-- don’t talk, just listen.”

“Mum, I--”

“You’re going to hate me. I know that hate, I felt the same for my own father. I would not blame you for hating me even more than that.” She said grimly. “But please, there is much I need to tell you. That I should’ve told you before.”

“I don’t-- I don’t understand.” You sputtered.

“So just listen,” She pleaded. You nodded and your stomach bubbled nervously. “You’ve heard of Ecklun? You were always so fond of history.” You confirmed and she continued on. “And Astrania. Occasional allies until the dissolution of the former… but that all doesn’t matter.”

Your mother hung her head.

“My father knew the tide was against him. He tried to rally his reinforcements, he made promises to those he thought could help. He was the king, you see? He was dethroned, we were all thrown out of the country. I tried to… stay with him. Tried to make him move on but he wouldn’t. So after I had you, I left. Your father didn’t want to let go either and he refused to come with me.”

She touched her cheek and shuddered.

“It was all gone so I thought that meant it was over. Everything. The promises, the debts.” She shook her head. “I tried so hard to start over. For you. But… Your grandfather promised you to the heir of Astrania to fund his personal guard. The same that ejected us from our home.”

She twined her fingers together then pulled them apart. She gulped before she found her voice again.

“That heir is now in power,” She could barely look at you. “And you… you are to be his wife.”

“I-- no, they can’t-- it--”

“I thought I could stop it. I didn’t think they’d want it still but-- I always hated how backwards it all was. Bloodlines, lineage, privilege… It was all so ridiculous.” She huffed. “I-- tried. I failed.”

“You ran once, we can--”

“That man found me. I am not foolish to think he did not come with back-up. I have seen what happens when you undermine others. I have seen the ugliness of it. I can’t say what’s worse; to let them have you or to refuse and suffer further. You don’t know how-- I was stupid enough to think I could ever outpace them.”

You gaped at her. Shocked, angry, sickened.

“And now I can’t stop them.” She uttered.

“You didn’t tell me,” You breathed. “You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry--”

“I have school, work...I… No, they can’t. I have a life!” You stood and the chair wobbled.

“Honey, please,” She got to her feet. “I know how it feels. Trust me. My father, he did the same--”

“So what? Family tradition?” You scoffed. “They can’t make me. I’m staying. I’m going to school, I’m working. I’m not--”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I won’t go!” You shouted.

“They’ll make you.”

“How?”

She looked at you. Her face was grim, her wrinkles more apparent than ever before. She didn’t need to say.

“They can’t--”

“They’ll find a way.” She muttered. “They always do. I’m so so sor--”

“So I’ll make them drag me,” You said. “I’ll fight it.”

“It’s treason--”

“It’s the twenty-first century!”

“Not there. It’s not the same as here. There’s no one to stop them.”

You didn’t know what to say. You hit the table and swore. You stormed from the room and slammed your door before you fell onto the bed and screamed into your pillows.

It was a dream. It had to be a dream!

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andraaste · 4 years ago

Text

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 7

Chapter 7 too, enjooooy (⚠️ chapter 6 was released at the same time, be careful not to miss it. You can find all the other chapters on the hashtag « i am not your enemy » ⚠️)

(Link for Chapter 8 here)

Chapter 7 : I had just entered his territory

I followed the merry band to the cherry blossom tree, a place where proudly enthroned the two statues representing Leiftan and me, the saviors of the white sacrifice. At one time, I loved this place. It had even been my favorite place in HQ. But today ... every time I walked past these inanimate figures, I felt uneasy. To see us represented in this way put too much pressure on my shoulders. Most importantly, I still had this strange feeling that people kept staring at me.

The others didn't seem to realize it, they were arguing loudly and bickering, but for my part, I couldn't help but pay attention to everything around me. Thus, since the news of my awakening from the Crystal, I had repeatedly caught shifty glances in my direction, often accompanied by whispered conversations a little too loudly. I was totally confused by these behaviors. How to react to the admiration, and at the same time the fear, that we arouse in the hearts of people when they see us ?

At that moment, I had the unpleasant feeling that I understood, if only minutely, what Lance could be feeling. And how loneliness must have weighed on him sometimes too.

I shook my head sharply to try to get those thoughts out of my head. I would no longer fail to come to sympathize with this man's moods. In addition, the atmosphere was at the party tonight, I really had to stop brooding alone in my corner. A good part of the inhabitants of the HQ were present in the garden, it had apparently become common measure here that to celebrate the return of the troops left for the missions of rank A or B, that is to say the longest and most important missions, and everyone seemed to be doing it to their heart's content.

Conversations were mingling all around me and I couldn't focus clearly on any of them, when a brown head appeared in my field of vision. Seeing the mischievous smile that crossed the young wolf's face, I couldn't help but throw myself into his arms.

- Chrome !

The latter hugged me eagerly without losing his smile.

- Andraste, how are you ? I heard you were already doing great things in the infirmary, he chuckled as I pulled away from him.

- What do you want, I still left Eweleïn alone for seven long years, I had to make up for it a bit.

Chrome burst out into a frank laugh close to barking, which made me smile even more.

- When did you come back from your mission ? I questioned him.

- About an hour, which was more than enough for me to hear from you.

- Oh that's just my new celebrity daily, that.

He laughed again before running a hand through his thick hair, his expression suddenly confused.

- And if not, I also heard that you had crossed paths, well you know...

He didn't dare finish his sentence, so I did it for him.

- Lance, yes.

- And that Huang Hua ...

- Made him my new chaperone ? Yes too, I cut him off, slightly irritated at the memory of my meeting with her.

- You know, her decision is not easy, especially for you, but if she decided that it was the best thing to do ...

- Then I'll have to get used to it, I know.

Chrome seemed both surprised and relieved that I was so easily resigned to gently following the Chief of the Guard's orders.

- But you know very well what I think about it, I continued. Okay, I understood that his faults had been atoned for and that he was a great fighter, but I should still have a say in my relationship with him. Except in this case, Huang Hua did not give me a choice and probably to him either. This is what irritates me the most, but I'm far too tired right now to argue with her. So be it.

The wolf was looking at me with big round eyes.

- What did I say that was so shocking ? I asked him, flushing my cheeks.

- You accept her decision without complaining or shouting throughout HQ that Lance is a traitor and that Huang Hua has gone wild ? Maybe you should take another trip to the infirmary, I'm not feeling your best, he said seriously.

I rolled my eyes at his mockery as he laughed again.

- I'm teasing you, don't take it like that !

He patted me vigorously on the back to ease the mood, which probably moved me a side or two in the face of so much delicacy. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to realize that his gesture was a bit too vigorous for my poor human carcass.

- Finally, I hope that Lance and you... he continued.

- Are we going to become the best friends in the world ? Don't expect a mea culpa, I tolerate his presence, at the very least read.

A mocking pout slowly appeared on his face. I raised an eyebrow.

- What ?

- No nothing...

He was trying to keep from smiling, I knew that. I sighed in exasperation before using a tone that meant to be threatening.

- Chrome.

He awkwardly raised his hands in peace.

- Alright, Alright. No, I was just thinking that the two of you are really the same.

I paused for a long time trying to figure out what he was talking about. Sensing my confusion, he continued cautiously.

- You and Lance look a lot alike, he tried to explain to me with a shrug. It's just that it's really blatant, at times.

Sorry ?

Was he really telling me that Lance and I were alike ? How's that, "really blatant" ? He didn't care about me now.

- You know, it's not pejorative at all! I know you and him are complicated, but ...

- Yes we can say that it is rather complicated, indeed.

- But having seen him a lot in recent years, I can guarantee you that it's a compliment !

A compliment ?

- Chrome, you should stop there, I said, putting a hand on my forehead.

- I ... yes, you're right, he finally concluded with an embarrassed laugh.

Suddenly two arms circled Chrome and Karenn placed a kiss on his cheek.

- You are there my loulou ! I was looking for you.

Turning in my direction, she continued :

- Andraste, if I can borrow it from you.

I gave her a polite smile as she already began to pull Chrome by the arm.

- No worries, have fun.

I watched the couple walk away and sighed heavily. I had to admit that I was more than fed up with how everyone valued Lance. But on the other hand, I couldn't deny that I myself had, on rare occasions, appreciated his presence. Well, as much as possible anyway. I found myself thinking about the last time we had exchanged. It was clear that he had gone way too far in our training, but despite that, he still managed to make me feel some semblance of my powers again. And this feat had only happened in his presence.

I think it was time I stopped running away from him.

Abandoning the festivities, in which I had actually not participated so much, I went in search of the dragon. I suspected that Lance should not be very fond of this kind of events and therefore decided to slip away discreetly. The fact of me going away from the evening surprised me the greatest good, I think I could not stand the noise and the crowd very well. Who knows, maybe spending several years meditating in a crystal could create a kind of agoraphobia. Anyway, the more the calm of the night enveloped me, the better I felt.

I finally wandered around the HQ gardens with no real idea of where I needed to go. Where could Lance be now ? And what was I going to say to him, once he was in front of me ?

Despite everything, I decided to head towards the corridor of the guards. Crossing the great hall of doors, I entered the corridor which led to the chambers of the members of the Guard. The night bathed the room in a soft light, but still, I could feel my heart race as I approached the door to his bedroom. What exactly was I going to tell him ? I had no idea.

My hand remained in the air for several long seconds before I mustered the courage to strike, my heart definitely racing. However, no sound from the other side of the clapper reached me in response. Other seconds flowed during which I didn't even dare to breathe.

Maybe he wasn't here, I must have been wrong... I finally lowered my arm, blowing loudly as I passed, and started to turn away when I felt the door open close to me.

- Andraste ?

I turned at the sound of his voice, it also slightly out of breath. It had been several days since I had heard it and surprisingly, it seemed even more serious than usual. Lance then fixed his icy gaze on mine, as if waiting for me to answer him something, but I stood for a moment stuck on the drops of sweat that smeared his chest.

Oh.

- What are you doing here ? he asked me while raising his eyebrows. You need something ?

Take it easy, Andraste. At once.

- I ... no, not really. I just wanted to talk to you, actually, I finally managed to articulate. Well, nothing very special and if I disturb you, we can do that another time.

- Why would you bother me ? he replied without a hint of irony.

His question caught me off guard but he didn't seem to mind. Seeing that I could find nothing to answer, he shifted to the side and invited me in, a glimmer of defiance in the pupils. I hesitated for a moment. Was it really a good idea ?

Slowly, I finally entered the dragon's lair. I felt him close the door behind my back and an icy shiver ran through me as a thought crossed my mind.

I had just entered his territory.

Deliberately.

(Chapter 8)

#eldarya #eldarya new era #eldarya lance #eldarya writing #eldarya fanfiction #ashkore #i am not your enemy

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 2 ~Words~

Picture Source

Previously in Stories She Wrote ...

Claire ignored the jest. "So you really think I should publish my story?"

Her friend nodded excitedly. "Absolutely! You should have let me read it sooner. From what I've seen so far, you have good, solid material, and I'm convinced, when I read the rest, it will not disappoint." She stood up and smiled. "Come on, in as much as I'm all fired up after reading your story, I'm famished." She got up and left the room.

Instead of moving from her position, Claire stared at her work for a few seconds and just breathed. Although Willie and Annalise were sincere with their praises, she couldn't help but still feel nervous. This next step in her life could either turn out to be huge, or it could get her mocked out of a dream career she loved.

Pushing aside her doubts and thinking of Jamie, she quickly compressed a copy of her story's file and sent it to him via email to read, hoping he would like her written work too

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL & LANGUAGE CONTENT

Jamie walked into his cottage and was greeted by his dog Rollo and cat, Adso. He tossed his keys on the dining table as he absentmindedly rubbed his pets alternately behind the ears and scrolled through his phone. He smiled. There was an email notification from Claire and a text letting him know she would be calling after dinner. After turning on his laptop, he shrugged off his jacket, placed it on the back of his chair, and then went to the kitchen to feed his companions, thinking his own dinner would have to wait, too eager to read Claire's email.

Feeling the chill, he put firewood onto the grate and set it alight, before making a mug of black tea and heading back to the dining table. Once there, instead of immediately opening his email, he stared at his desktop photo. It was of Claire, wearing nothing but his shirt and sitting cross-legged by the fireplace with a bowl of breakfast. Without conscious volition, he touched the picture on the screen and then brought his fingers against his lips. Miss you, Sassenach. Although work and obligations had filled his days, time seemed to go so painstakingly slow, his mind constantly wandering to her. It pained him not to have her by his side, but he knew it was a little sacrifice for what lay ahead of them.

Sighing, he opened the email. Please read and tell me what you think, love C, it said.

After clicking on the attachment, he extracted the content and found a file with Word documents. He enlarged the first page, skimmed through the paragraphs and realised it was Claire's work. After taking a sip of his tea, he proceeded to read from the beginning.

A few paragraphs later, he was hooked. Not because Claire wrote it, but because of the beautiful marrying of emotions with words. He was instantly captivated. How could she have downplayed her talent when she had this innate gift? She once mentioned, there were talks among her peers, that editors were just frustrated authors. Weel, not this editor! he thought. But more than the mental images her storyline evoked, it was the words that moved him. It was as if he was reading a personal confession disguised in the characters she'd created and it spoked straight to his soul. He continued to read, and when he came upon a particular plot, his eyes slightly misted.

From across the room, her gaze locked with his, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. A live wire crackled and sparked, launching showers of tiny fireworks to light every dark recess of her weary soul.

It was always going to be like this every time she saw him, she sighed. After all these years, nothing had changed.

In their youth, she'd believed, they were bound together, not by something tangible, but by a profound, powerful connection that is ancient and older than the planets. It was as if she'd envisioned them a million times aeons ago and the stars finally heeded and arranged for their paths to cross.

It had started with a touch, a soft kiss, a subtle stirring of their souls, and as if by magic, their story began to write itself from thereon. His strength had been her protection, her heart, his shelter, and in each others' arms, they were home. For at one time, love between them had been powerful than the fate and deeper than a naked eye. But that was then, she reminded herself ...before he found out she was from another place and time. Out of this tragedy, which altered the course of her life, was the infinite curse she must bear alone. But she couldn't blame him. It was her fault.

As a tiny sob escaped her throat, a man bumped into her, jarringly breaking her reverie. Annoyed with herself for feeling weak, she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. And as she slowly made her way over to him, she hoped and prayed her face would not betray her emotions. There comes that significant point in life when one had to choose to either turn the page, write another book or simply close it. She chose the latter.

Jamie's heart drummed, and he puffed out a lungful of air. Settling back on his seat, he rubbed a hand over his face. He had this sudden burning urge to bundle Claire's story and gift it to the world. Why has she waited this long to pursue her dream? This is bloody insane! In each of the characters, he saw her - beautifully flawed and full of heart. She wielded words in her story as if she was tearing apart her own issues and exposing her loss and regrets, the courage and honesty so palpable, it jumped right off the screen. Och, Sassenach!

He needed more time to go through the story at a leisurely pace, so he skipped a few chapters out of mere curiosity and what he read next, made his heart rate doubled.

As soon as they were alone, she grabbed at his belt, her shaking fingers tugging the zipper. She'd waited for far too long and needed him now. Dropping down to her knees, she lowered his jeans to take him fully in her mouth, feeling him throb and jerk at her touch ...oh how she'd crave for the taste of him. She was hungry, oh so hungry, to feel his most private pulse beating against her palm. Despite the urgency she was feeling, she didn't rush as she wanted to savour every moment and taste of him.

He swallowed and realised his jeans were becoming too constricted. Ah Christ! There were only so many blows to the system a man could take and what he just read sent all the blood in his brain rushing southward so fast it nearly knocked him out of commission. Who would have thought a sex scene in a romance story could affect him so much?

He read a few more excerpts from the story, and when he eventually looked at the bottom right corner of his screen, he realised it was nearly ten. He'd been so engrossed with reading, he hadn't noticed the time. Claire was supposed to call. But maybe she's fallen asleep.

Reaching for his phone, he got up, shifted the bulging discomfort in his jeans and headed for the fridge. As his screen lit up, he tapped Claire's name and waited.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice thick and muffled, causing a sudden pulsing rush of longing in his stomach. A fog of cataclysmic lust descended, increasing the weight between his legs.

"Sassenach?" He grabbed a tin of beer, popped it open with one hand and made his way to the living room. "It's me."

"I know." She yawned. "What time is it? Are you just coming home?"

"Ummm, no. I got yer email earlier." Smiling, he sat on the armchair and toed off a shoe. "I got caught up reading yer story, I forgot the time."

"A long day then. Sorry, I was supposed to call, but ...." He heard some rustling sound and then quiet.

He got his second shoe off and rested his feet on the coffee table. Right now, he wished he could teleport himself to Claire's side and slip in bed next to her. He'd wanted to come to London, but he'd been advised by Willie it was still too soon, and coming along could trigger his PTSD. Although the nightmares had stopped and he'd been following the meditation exercises Claire had told him to do, there were still times when panic attack got hold of him. They weren't as bad as before, but still, it was there lurking, ready to pounce at any time. He hadn't dared told his sister, Jenny, in case she nagged him to attend the therapy conducted by her friend Geneva. He knew what his sister was up to, and he wasn't about to fall for her matchmaking schemes.

He was just contemplating the merits of dropping everything and flying to London when he realised Claire had gone too quiet.

"Sassenach?"

"Hmmm?"

"Did ye just fall asleep on me?"

"Oh, umm, a little," she responded, utterly lacking in apology.

"Shall I let ye sleep? I can call again tomorrow."

"No!"

Relieved, he smiled. "So working too hard, I presume?"

"Yes," she mumbled. "Worked for seven hours straight. Then had too much food and wine, and too little fresh air. It made me drowsy afterwards. It's Willie's and Annalise's faults. They overfed me over dinner."

"Mmm, in as much as I appreciate why ye're doing it, I dinnae want ye to become ill because of it." He heard another yawn and imagined her long, lean body stretching, her hair all wild against the pillow and her breast bare. When he realised where his mind was wandering to, he immediately put a stop to it. Christ, get a grip! With a steel will, he extinguished his filthy thoughts. "Ye should take care more of yersel', Sassenach."

"I'm fine ...honestly."

He was unconvinced but didn't push. "By the way, I read yer story. It's bloody good. No ...correction. It's great!"

"You like it!"

"I love it. Was that a story ye wrote a while ago? Or did ye write it recently?"

"A while ago," she hummed, her words muffled as if she had a pillow over the phone.

He loved the way she sounded when sleep laced her voice.

"Hmmm, a question ...how'd ye learn to write a sex scene like that, when ..." He needed a couple of seconds to find the right words. "...when ye were a virgin before we met."

"I might have been a virgin, but I never said I was a nun."

He laughed out loud. It couldn't be helped. Though Claire could be shy at times, she always spoke her mind. "I'm sorry I didnae mean to laugh, Sassenach," he apologised when he finally sobered up. "It's just that ye wrote the sex part so vivid and graphic, it made me wonder how ye could have known the mechanics of lovemaking when ye were still a virgin at the time ye wrote that story."

"Well, I suppose I should confess ...before I met you, there might have been on a few occasions, that I had ..."

"Watched porn?"

"Yes ...but for research purposes," she said rapidly, her voice not sounding muffled anymore. She must have rolled on her back. "But what I meant to say was, I've had ...um ..." She trailed off.

He frowned. "Had what?"

"Physical contact, of course!" she replied with mild exasperation.

Something heavy rolled over in his stomach. "Excuse me?"

She sighed. "When I use to date, dates sometimes end up in making out, kissing and petting, and I sort of got the gist of what normally happens afterwards." He heard her swallow. "I -I mean nothing happened of course ...at least, not in the biblical sense anyway. W-what I'm trying to say is, before we met ... I've never made it to the Old Testament with anyone. B-but you ... you're pretty special because you and I ...well, we're almost at the Revelations."

What the hell? She was rambling, and he realised she was becoming flustered. Her attempt to calm him down using the books of the Bible for analogy put a dent on his jealousy. He puffed out a breath. "I get it. I get it. Just do me a favour, Sassenach, will ye, huh? In the future, dinnae mention physical contact with other men ever again to me even if it's no' the biblical variety. It's bad enough we're separated, and here I am missing ye loads ..."

"Sorry, but you did ask how I knew about the mechanics of ..." she stopped and then sighed. "Let's change the subject, shall we?"

"Of course." He slugged back a mouthful of beer and placed it on the coffee table, before leaning back once more on his armchair. "We were talking about yer writing. I've read a few chapters, and I'm really enjoying it. Cannae wait to read the rest."

"I'm glad. Willie and Annalise liked it too," she replied, a smile in her voice.

"I'm not surprised. Ye should have published it a long time ago. Ye have a gift, Sassenach, one that I'm verra proud of."

"Thank you. Writing does take a bit of time, and I needed a job while I was at it. I'm still glad I waited, though."

He shifted uncomfortably on his seat and paused, contemplating if ... "Are ye in the bedroom? Or did ye fall asleep on the couch?"

"In my bedroom. I couldn't stand watching a movie with Willie and Annalise when all they do is snog in front of me. So I left them to it, thinking I'll rest my eyes for a few minutes before calling you. And that's when I fell asleep." Ah, the poor thing, she must have been so tired. At least she sounded a little more alert compared to earlier. "Seeing them cuddled up like that made me miss you loads," she added, huskily, "...and think of our time together."

Ah, hell! Her voice wasn't the only thing that was alert. His cock suddenly needed a wee adjustment. Again! He unzipped his jeans, purely for ease and comfort and to give himself room for a breathing space.

"You should sleep in tomorrow and get some fresh air too," he suggested, inhaling deeply through his nose as he felt the effects of the beer, reminding him he didn't have any food in his stomach.

"Definitely, I will have a sleep in." She drank something audibly and let out a sigh. "As for that fresh air, it will depend if it's raining or not. Annalise mentioned we're in for a horrendous weather tomorrow." He heard another delicate gulp.

"What are ye wearing, Sassenach?" His words came out before he could think and put a stop to it. It sounded much more sexual than he'd intended, gruff and hoarse, his dirty mind wandering to that explicit scene he read earlier.

There was a few seconds of silence. "Why?"

"Because I want to know ...if ye're warm enough."

"I'm warm enough."

"So what are ye wearing?"

There was another moment of silence before she replied. "Oooh, I know what this is, James Fraser" she throatily laughed into his ears. "And, we are so not doing this."

"Doing what?" he groaned, this time pulling out his cock. He couldn't deny himself any longer, when this woman on the other end of the line, rained havoc to his good sense. Running a calloused hand down the length of himself, he gave his throbbing erection a nice hard squeeze. "I'm only asking solely out of concern for yer health. It's cold, and I worry ye might catch ...umm ...pneumonia." He almost laughed out loud at his lame logic.

"Pneumonia? You don't have to worry, Jamie. It's warm in the apartment, and it doesn't take much to heat a small place,," she said with a hint of amusement. "And I'm not naked ...not totally anyway."

"Oh," he gritted, fisting his cock from the base to the head, as a blow of harsh breath escaped his mouth. He felt like a depraved, desperate man, but it couldn't be helped when his cock was so achingly stiff, and he wanted relief. No amount of wanking in the shower earlier had eased his need for her. In fact, it only intensified it.

As he continued to stroke himself, the house's interior closed in around him, the sounds of fire popping doing nothing to reduce the extreme feeling of airlessness. At this moment, as far as he was concerned, they were the only two people in the whole wide world awake, right here and right now, and he would die if he didn't get any release soon.

"I'm wearing undies," she finally said.

Allelujah! His fist tightened around his hardness, moisture seeping from its head. "Ah, Sassenach," he murmured. He imagined her, stretched out on her bed, the duvet kicked off, and how she had looked in those tiny cotton knickers. "And a pyjama top?" he muttered.

"No," she sighed in sweet response, a slight shyness creeping in her next words. "I forgot to turn off the radiator before I went to bed. It's so warm I must have yanked off my top while sleeping."

"Sweet Jesus!" He stilled his hand and cupped his balls, seeing her creamy breasts in his mind's eye.

"Jamie ...what are ye doing? I mean, I think I know what you are doing. But I've never done this before," she whispered. "Maybe I should go and let you ...um ...finish your business?"

"No! Please." He closed his eyes and slumped deeper into the armchair, his feet spreading apart and his head falling back. "I need ye."

"I ...I don't know how ..."

"Sassenach." Saying his pet name for her was a mild distraction from the throbbing ache in his hand, as he swiped a thumb over the head of his erection and spread the moisture seeping out. "My cock is so rock hard, I think I might black the fuck out from wanting ye. Dinnae torture me by leaving me hanging."

Her breath hitched, and it was the most beautiful sound in his ears. "So you really are touching yourself?" she asked on a huffed breath.

"Jesus, Sassenach! Ye have nae idea, do ye? I wank every day and night to yer image in my head ...stroking so hard I can hardly breathe, thinking of our last night together ..." he swallowed with difficulty, his hand busy fisting himself. "It's so lonely without ye, and every waking moment is filled with thoughts of ye naked in my bed and every night ye haunt my dreams. What I would give to touch ye right now and plunge my cock between yer thighs."

She gasped, and he wished he could feel her hot breath on his neck. "Jamie ...I don't even know what to say ... I ...this is out of my comfort zone.."

"Touch yersel', and tell what ye're thinking," he commanded as he closed his eyes, the heels of his feet pushing against the floor and his muscles thighs tightening hard. "Have ye ever touched yersel'? Tell me."

"Before you came along, there's been no one, and you know that," she said haughtily. "Giving myself an orgasm is the only reason why I remained a virgin for so long. I call it self-service."

He let out a burst of pained laughter despite himself. "Ah, Christ, I'd love to kiss that smart-arsed mouth while taking ye hard ..."

"I like it when you ..." she cut in, and he held his breath, agonisingly waiting for her to complete the sentence. "...kiss me between the legs." He heard her voice fade a little and swishing movements. "I think of you doing that when ...um, my hand is between my thighs."

"Is yer hand between yer thighs now?"

"Y-yes ..."

"Slide yer fingers in, Sassenach. And tell me ...are ye wet?"

"Yes ..." she softly moaned.

"How wet?"

"Very."

Ah, fuck!

He always thought dirty talks were arousing, but each shy admission by Claire was too bloody erotic for words, it made the already taut and strained tether of his self-control about to snap. He uttered her name with a litany of invocations to the saints, his hips shifting against the soft of his seat and his breathing becoming heavier. "Ye ken what I'll do to ye when I get to finally see ye? I'm no' letting ye out of bed," he groaned. "I'm gonnae worship that beautiful body of yers with my mouth until my lips are branded to your skin, and yer scent embedded in mine and yer taste in my mouth. Ye still have yer fingers inside ye?"

"Yes ..."

"Now imagine it's my tongue lapping ye up."

She sobbed, a whimpering sound full of longing and his heart twisted in a knot, creating a cluster that descended down to his belly and found its way to his cock, making his balls draw higher. His exhale came out like an animalistic grunt as Claire's breathing became more shallow. She gasped out his name, a soft plea that he badly wanted so much to pacify.

"Oh, sweet Lord, I want you so much, Jamie. I miss your hands on me," she whispered, her voice enveloping him, he could almost feel her breath on his heated skin. "Please don't stop talking ..."

"Ye think I could stop, Sassenach? I'd sell my soul just to hear ye come." Something told him the cries coming from Claire's mouth would ring in his head for days to come. Broken, sweet, desperate moans, interrupted by her breath hitching. Like she was drowning, just like him. "Ye miss me touching ye, is that right? Weel, let me tell ye something," he said hoarsely. "I spend every night looking at the bloody ceiling of my bedroom, envisioning yer sweet tits bouncing like wee temptations while ye ride me on my creaky bed. It hasn't creaked the way it used to, ever since ye left. And on some nights, I would lay on my tummy and grind myself against the mattress just to hear it creak and pretend it's not the bed I'm fucking," His hand went into overdrive stroking himself, fast and relentless. "But we both know we want the real thing, don't we now?"

"Yes, yes, yes," she whispered in a husky loop.

"Jesus, so sweet, my beautiful Sassenach ..." A drumming began in his head, inflicted by the raspy sound of her voice, the way her breath became laboured when he talked dirty to her.

The pressure within him rose, and his breath came out in short, head-spinning gulps of air, his senses more heightened for knowing who the cause was for his predicament. Claire. Ah, Christ, he'd never anticipated for the possessiveness that tightened around his heart with a permanence that didn't alarm him. In fact, he'd always known, right from the beginning, she was the one for him. She was the only one who moved him to take a risk in love, to abuse his body for relief ...

"Jamie ...oh God ..."

Hissing out a wounded groan, Jamie fisted the base of his cock and pumped furiously. "I'm here, Sassenach," he whispered. "I hear ye. Always here for ye."

"I'm coming ..." she moaned. "Oh, my God ..."

His heart expanded as he listened to her, her breath shallow, his name a whisper, and he could picture her, turning and twisting against the sheets with her hand between her thighs. He was so close, it hurt. When he couldn't hold off any longer, he let go, his own orgasm coming in full force, spouting out of from his cock, seizing his body in an almost paralysing bliss. It went on forever, his seed spurting into his hand and thighs, his shouts reverberating off the walls and ceiling as the pleasure surged through him and rearranging everything in its route.

Finally spent, he slumped back on his seat, his breathing coming out in choppy waves as his chest rose and fell. After a long stretch of silence between them, he put down his phone and whipped off his shirt to clean himself up. By the time he grabbed it back and placed it against his ear, Claire's breath was calmer.

"Jamie?" There was a trace of doubt or maybe guilt in her voice.

Knowing Claire's strict Catholic upbringing in the boarding school, he didn't want her thinking what they did was wrong as it would only cheapen what they just shared. He needed to reassure her. "Sssh, Sassenach, I ken what ye're gonnae say. What happened between us was ... incredible. And ye ken, why?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Because we love each other. Ye understand?"

There was a long pause before she replied and he imagined her biting her lower lip in contemplation. "Yes," she replied eventually, her voice barely a whisper. And after waiting a few seconds more, he heard her soft snore and even breathing.

Smiling, he murmured good night and turned off the phone. He was just about to close his eyes to savour the moment when the doorbell rang, and a spooked Adso suddenly leapt onto his lap. Bloody hell! He plopped the cat down, righted his jeans and quickly got up, and as he peered through the window, he saw Mrs Fitz, the owner of the Airbnb from across the road, holding a dish in her hands.

What the ...? He opened the door. "Mrs Fitz!" The scent of freshly baked apple pie wafted from the dish she was carrying, making his stomach grumble. "It's kinda late. Is everything alright?" he asked, eyeing the aluminium covered plate.

"Aye, son," she said, frowning, her eyes bypassing him as if she was in search of something or someone. "I saw the light, and I thought ye might like a bit of pudding ...for after tea perhaps or for breakfast. Yer lass ...Miss Beauchamp, I mean Claire is not here so I thought I'd check up on ye."

Jamie thought the older woman was acting a bit odd, the way she was trying to strain her neck to look beyond him. "Oh, Claire ...I was just on the phone with her."

Both her eyebrows arched. Then the frown on her face dissipated, replaced with a relieved smile and a reddening on her plump cheeks. "Oh, of course. I thought I heard some strange sounds. Ye must have been talking to her." She pushed the dish towards him. "Very well then, now that everything seems to be in order, I must go." Without waiting for him to reply, she whirled around and hurriedly left.

As Jamie stared at her disappearing figure, it slowly dawned on him, Mrs Fitz must have heard the sound he'd made while in the throes of self-love passion. Groaning inwardly, he realised Claire's writing studio shed wasn't the only place that needed soundproofing. If Claire was going to stay with him, he needed to soundproof the whole cottage. Bloody nosy neighbours!

Dear Readers,

Thank you all for the positive feedback from the previous chapter - what a warm welcome from my readers. So chuffed reading the comments and seeing the kudos. Kudos right back at you, you wonderful lot!

I'll keep this short and sweet because I have heaps of things to do, but before I go, I'm sending you all my best wishes during this very odd times. Keep the good vibes rolling, ditched the negativity and most of all, take care of your health. Until next time ... X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #outlanderfanfic

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uas-fics · 3 years ago

Text

-Title: Flower Crowns

Rating: G

Summary: Half lost on his walk, Leon finds a frustrated Piers attempting to weave flowers together.

Ships: Leon x Piers

Content Warnings: N/A

----

What a wonderful day for a walk. The sun shone over the yellow-green of the land. Not a single cloud floated across the blue sky. Flowers swayed in a gentle breeze. Rookidie chattered in the trees as bug pokemon skittered along the ground.

Simply a wonderful day outside of...Well, Leon didn't know exactly where he was, but he was at least sixty percent sure he was outside of Hulsbury. Or maybe Tuffield? He was on one side of the Northern Wild Areas.

Probably.

He stretched his arms up. His jacket sleeves rolled down to his elbows. The worn blue jacket had been his grandfather's and was still a little too big for him, even now that he was an adult, but it was comfortable and warm enough for spring days. He kept it with him when he wanted to go incognito since it wasn’t as distinguishable as his sponsor cape.

He could use more days off like this, more calming walks in nature with nothing but the plants, wild pokemon, and--

"Oh, c'mon!"

Leon jumped, nearly knocking his hat from his head.

Who was that?

He titled his head, listening. Someone swore up a storm not too far away. Half in an attempt to help, and half to seek confirmation of his location, Leon followed the colorful language over a small hill to its source.

Amongst a field of wildflowers and tall grass, someone kicked at the dirt. Grass, flowers, and dirt sprayed into the air.

"And you’re no help, you piece of--!" They spun around, throwing something.

Leon ducked just in time to avoid coming face to screen with a cellphone. The phone landed with a dull thud in the grass behind his feet.

Regret welled up in Leon's stomach. Maybe he should have just called the Pokemon League and asked them for help getting home. This person seemed too upset, and Leon interrupting their rage would just make them angrier, won't it?

"Champion Leon?"

Leon jumped at the sound of his name. Taking his gaze off the phone on the ground, he looked towards the phone's owner.

The gym leader of Spikemuth winced.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate." Piers raised his hands, palms facing forward as if he expected Leon to throw something back at him.

Leon shook his head, both to shake off his shock as well as to placate Piers. He picked up the phone.

"It's nothing to worry about," He reassured, wiping the screen on his jacket sleeve. On the screen, some sort of brightly colored webpage stared back at Leon. In a curling font, the header read 'Just A Unovan Country Gal' with 'recipes, DIYs, and patterns for good old girls' written underneath.

Deciding not to ask about the site, he pressed the power button as he passed the phone back, darkening the screen. Piers put the phone in his pocket. He hadn’t noticed Leon staring at the screen or didn’t acknowledge he knew Leon saw it, at least.

"You're lost, aren’t you?" Piers didn't hesitate to ask.

"What? Of course not. I know where I am," Leon lied, unsure why he did. Everyone in the Pokemon League knew he was terrible with directions. Every gym leader had to come to find and escort him to their gym at some point or another, including Piers.

"If you need help gettin' home, I can take you,'' Piers offered. "I'm done with...I'm done for today."

"Done with what?" Leon couldn't help but venture. The Unovain website flashed in his mind’s eye.

He couldn't figure why Piers of all people would be in a wildflower field in the middle of the day so far from Spikemuth. Was he picking flowers for a special someone? Searching for a certain pokemon? Training his team? Did it have to do with the website he had open on his phone?

Piers wrinkled his nose. "None of your business."

It was Leon's turn to hold up his hands. "Sorry." He took a few steps past Piers. "Didn't mean to pry. I'll leave you to it if you can point me toward Hulsbury."

Piers eyed him up and down, slowly, calculatingly. A shiver ran up Leon's back. Why did his stomach twist into knots? It wasn't like Piers planned on stabbing him.

With a heavy sigh, Piers pinched Leon's jacket between his fingers, stopping him from wandering off.

"Flower crown," he muttered, refusing to look at him.

"What?"

"Flower. Crown. I was trying to make a flower crown." Piers took his hand away to run it through his thick bangs, pushing them back away from his face. A tinge of pink blush dusted his face.

Leon bit the inside of his cheek to keep a laugh in. Flower crowns? Piers was the least likely person to be making flower crowns. Leon tried to imagine the dark-type gym leader with a ring of wild daisies and dandelions around his head but only succeeded in a snort of amusement at the idea.

Piers glowered and raised his hand. All of his nails had a sheen of shiny black paint, except for the middle one lifted at Leon, which was a matte white.

"If I left you out here, you would die of exposure before you found your way back."

Leon covered his mouth before another snort could make its way out.

"Sorry, sorry, but..." He took a breath, "why do you need a flower crown? It doesn't much match your..." he gestured to Piers’ punk, monochromatic outfit, “aesthetic.”

"It isn't for me," Piers snapped. "It's for Marnie, my sister. She wants one, not me."

Leon wasn't sure he'd ever actually met Piers' sister. He rarely went to Spikemuth, and when he did, he just stopped by the gym to deliver papers to Piers and get out. Had he ever even seen Piers’ sister before? She was about Hop's age, he knew that, but he couldn't remember if she was a little older or a little younger.

"Oh, of course. That makes sense," Leon said. "That's nice of you to make her one."

Piers searched his face for any sign of insincerity. Leon flashed him his champion smile. Whether that helped or not, he didn’t know.

Piers snorted. More to himself than Leon, he muttered, "It'd be nicer if I knew how to make one. Stupid website wasn’t any help..."

At this, Leon finally took a gander around. Most of the flowers had been plucked in the immediate area. They either sat in a pile or as parts of what Leon could only assume were attempts at flower crowns.

He knelt and picked a crown up, holding it carefully. Yellow daisies made up the crown. Each daisy had a slit cut in the stem with the next daisy slipped through until the end where the last stem was tied to the first. It was crude and the spacing of the flowers uneven, but not the worst flower crown Leon had ever seen.

Before Leon could look closer, Piers snatched the crown out of his hands. Pale yellow petals fell to the ground.

He glared, the tips of his ears burning red. “Making flower crowns isn’t a life skill they teach you in school, you know.”

Leon tilted his head to the side then asked, "Do you want help?"

"Help?" Piers tossed the crown into the tall grass. "You know how to make them?"

Leon nodded. "I grew up in Postwick." He fell back to his bottom. "Everyone knew how to make a proper crown." His lips twitched up into a smile. "I remember chasing down a wooloo to stop it from eating the crown I'd just given it."

He took a few daisies from the pile next to him. It took mere seconds for his fingers to remember the motion of wrapping stem over stem.

"Silly thing was someone's prized wooloo, and the farmer spoiled it rotten," Leon continued, occasionally looking down at his hands, "so when it saw me coming towards it with a handful of flowers, it thought it was getting a treat."

He laughed at the memory. He couldn’t have been more than seven or eight at the time. His mother still brought it up when she wanted to embarrass him in front of guests.

“I remember looking out the window and seeing my little boy, nearly in tears, shouting at a fat old wooloo.” She’d laugh. “Oh, he chased that thing for an hour trying to catch it!”

As Leon continued rambling, Piers watched his hands weave together daisies, dandelions, and corncockle. He sat back with his hands resting across his knees. He puffed his cheeks a little as he watched, breathing only through his nose. Whether he noticed he was doing it or not, Leon wasn't sure and didn't ask.

"And that's how I broke my arm for the first time," Leon finished, holding up the crown. He placed it on Piers' head where it sat unevenly on top of his ponytails. Leon beamed at Piers, proud of his work as if they were children playing in the fields of Postwick and not young adults.

Piers brushed his fingertips against the soft petals. He took a dandelion and a wild clover flower from one of the piles. With his face set in determination, he started to copy what he'd seen Leon doing. He wove together six flowers before tossing his hands in the air.

"What am I doing wrong?" He demanded.

Leon scooted until he sat next to Piers then took the crown to examine it. He nodded to himself. Without asking, Leon took Piers' hands in his own.

"You're doing it backward. See here?" Leon made Piers' thumb press against the first wrap in the crown. Instead of locking around the flower, the stem went behind it. A simple mistake for a first-time crown weaver to make.

Piers pulled his hands back.

"I think I got it." He took a meadows cranesbill and corncockle and began the wrap and lock method Leon showed him. He held up his attempt for inspection.

"That's it. Just keep doing that until it's long enough."

"This is going to take a while," Piers said, adding a daisy to the chain.

Leon shrugged sympathetically. "It might," he settled into a more comfortable, half-reclined position, "but it'll be fine. I'm here to help."

Piers paused and looked over at Leon, eyeing him once again. This time, however, Leon didn't feel a chill run up his back. Instead, heat crept up his cheeks at Piers' half smile towards.

Leon's pride wanted him to hold Piers' gaze as he would with any other gym leader, but he broke away to look at a patch of foxgloves in the distance.

"Thanks." Piers turned back to his project.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Piers held out a flower. Its stem was too short.

"D’you know what this is?" He asked, dropping the flower in Leon's lap.

Leon picked it up and spun it in between his fingers. Of course, he knew what it was, but he shrugged and pretended to think it over.

"Primrose, I think." He said. "My grandma kept some fancier varieties in the house when I was growing up."

The memory of cleaning up broken pots formed a smile on his face. Sonia and he landed themselves on his grandmother’s naughty list for killing her primroses, even if it was an accident.

Piers hummed. "I thought that's what it was. And this?"

Leon moved next to Piers. "That's a ragged robin. This is a cornflower. That's chicory." He continued pointing out the names of the flowers he knew, silently thanking his mother and grandparents for explaining all the wildflowers to him when he was a kid.

Of course, he didn't know them as well as Milo. He couldn't tell what medical uses dandelions had or how to make coffee from chicory, but Piers seemed impressed nonetheless with his botanical knowledge.

Leon picked up a flower from a failed crown attempt. He held it up, about to explain what it was, but Piers spoke first.

“That’s a wild violet.”

Leon slowly nodded. He was a little disappointed he didn’t get to explain it but shoved the feeling away. Of course, Piers would know such a common flower.

Piers smiled down at his work. “Marnie made me fill a whole basket with them once. She learnt you can cook with them.”

“Did you--cook with it, I mean?”

“Unfortunately.” Piers snorted. “I’ve had pot brownies that taste less like grass.” He paused, then added nonchalantly, “Before I was part of the league, of course.”

, Leon snorted a laugh to himself. That was a lie, he knew, but instead of remarking on it, he said, “Did you use the flowers or leaves?”

“Marnie baked them, not me. I just turned on the oven. I think she just put the whole plant in there, roots and all.” He laughed. “I’m going to have to tease her about that when I get home. Thanks for reminding me about that.”

Finally, Piers held up his crown. It was far from perfect, some of the flowers lost their petals and long stems stuck out at odd angles, but Piers held it out as if it were a royal crown. His expression wasn’t unlike how Leon’s mum said he looked when he finished making a crown for the spoiled wooloo.

"Wow, it looks great," Leon complimented.

Piers snorted with a smile. "For a first attempt, I guess." He looked at his flower crown, then at Leon, then back, before reaching up. He took hold of the bill of Leon's baseball cap. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed it off then replaced it with the crown.

He smiled at him. “You look like a prince, champ.” He teased before bending down and picking up the hat.

“I could say the same.”

The two shared a laugh and grins. Their fingers touched as Piers pushed the hat into Leon's hands. Leon wasn’t sure the touch was unintentional.

"It's getting late."

Leon looked up at the saturated orange-red sky.

"If you get me to Hulsbury, I can get a taxi home."

Piers chuckled and shook his head. "You really are lost, aren’t you? We're not too far outside the Spikemuth Tunnel, mate."

Leon dropped his hat. He held his head in his hands. The heat of embarrassment crept up his face. He had wandered farther off the beaten path than he thought. How did he even get so far away from where he started like this?

With a sympathetic smile, Piers put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"How about I take you back to my place, as a thank you for teaching me this." He gestured to the crown on his head. "I'll cook you up a little somethin' then you can hitch a ride on a flying taxi back home."

Leon's heart skipped a beat. He swallowed the embarrassment down and smiled.

"That sounds great."

----

AN: I stopped writing this halfway through to go outside, find some flowers, and learn how to do this because the way I described Piers doing it is how I've always done it. XP It is a completely valid way to make flower chains don't get me wrong, but it doesn't look nearly as fancy.

Anyway, maybe a little too sugary sweet, but I wanted to write some short fluff and doggone it I did!

Check out @uas-art for more of my drawings.

#pokemon #fanfiction #one-shot #piers #leon #champion leon #gym leader piers #swsh #piersxleon #leonxpiers #fluff #Still don't know the ship name...le sigh

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onlydreamofmysoul · 4 years ago

Text

Let Them Eat Cake Part VI

Here we go!!! I’m so so sorry about the extra wait for this one guys, but thanks for sticking with me!!! I hope you like it!

Tonight on The Great British Bake Off…

“Are you talking to yourself?”

“Now get out of here you cheeky buggers.”

“The person not going to the final is-”

The morning of the signature and technical challenges, Remus woke up with Sirius in his arms.

Remus smiled down at Sirius still asleep, his dark eyelashes brushing the tips of those high cheekbones. Ever so carefully, Remus reached to grab his phone and turned off his alarm - it only had two minutes left in it anyways and now Remus could wake Sirius up slowly instead of subjecting him to that heart stopping adrenaline rush that came from having a blaring noise announce the dawn on a new day.

“Sirius,” He whispered, kissing the other man’s forehead. “It’s time to wake up, love.”

Remus watched, unable to take his eyes away as Sirius’ breathing changed from that deep relaxed state to one more aware of the world. His eyes flickered open and focused immediately on Remus’ own.

“Re?” He mumbled sleepily, moving forward to press his face against the hollow of Remus’ throat and securing his grip around Remus’ waist. “Time is it?” Remus slipped his hands under Sirius’ shirt, relishing the feel of Sirius’ ridiculously warm skin against his hands. “It’s a little past seven, we have to get up, we’re filming today.”

Remus shivered as Sirius’ sigh was warm against his skin, but soon Sirius sat up, stretching high into the air, his joints cracking. Remus laughed and threw a pillow at him as he slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

“I’m just going for a shower, I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Sirius nodded, still yawning. “I should go back to my room anyways, before the world is awake and all that.”

Remus nodded and returned to his side to kiss him goodbye. “See you tonight?” He breathed. Sirius rolled his eyes laughing, “Re, you’ll see me in like, an hour.”

“Yeah,” Remus pouted, “But then everyone will see you. Only I get to see you tonight.”

Sirius smiled, lazily twining his arms around Remus’ neck, leaning against him. “That’s very true, I suppose I’ll see you then too.”

Remus grinned, then pushed his boyfriend away gently. “Go,” He said reluctantly, “Before anyone sees.”

Sirius kissed his cheek, then shoved his feet into his shoes and vanished out the door. Remus wandered to the steaming bathroom in a daze, not quite sure if this was all still just a long, elaborate dream.

He and Lily wandered down to the tent together, as was tradition at this point.

“I’m not superstitious,” Lily was saying, “But I mean, I’ve gotten this far and if there’s anything I’ve done that’s helped me get here well I’m not going to risk it.” She turned and changed the topic so quickly, Remus was pretty sure he’d get whiplash if he wasn’t so accustomed to her ways. “So how’s Sirius.”

The topic of himself and Sirius was a secret to the world, bar two people - Lily and James. Sirius and Remus had both agreed they wanted a little time to see let their relationship grow a little before being exposed to the public, but there was no denying that both of them needed to tell their best friends. In Remus’ opinion, getting to tell your best friend was one of the very best things about even being in a relationship.

Remus knew the smile on his face was ridiculous and yet he just couldn’t help it. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Lily stuck out her tongue at him. “Very funny. You know what I mean, how are the two of you getting on?”

Remus wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a little squeeze before pulling away. “So fucking good.”

“Well you sure as hell look like a love-struck idiot.”

It was Remus’ turn to stick his tongue out at her, but his cheeks flushed a little. “Oh hush. You’re one to talk, you’re not too far away from being a love struck idiot yourself.”

Sirius and Remus had a bet to see when James and Lily would finally get their shit together and start dating. Remus said before Bake Off ended. Sirius said after. Remus was trying to do everything in his power to make sure it happened before the end of filming the final (The official ‘cut off’ time) because if there’s one thing to know about Remus Lupin, it’s that he liked to win.

(And also that he thought he might be falling in love, but it was far too early to entertain such thoughts).

The tent was cooler today than it had been other weeks and Remus was glad for it. It was always chilly starting off, but the tent quickly warmed up and Remus would take any reprieve from the overwhelming heat that he could get. Tonks was already at her bench and Remus and Lily went to her, chatting before they had to get in their places.

“It’s weird without Peter isn’t it?” Tonks said, glancing at his vacant station.

“So weird.” The others agreed, all looking over. Can you believe next week is the final?”

“Shh, Lily don’t jinx it.” Remus said, covering her mouth and then ripped it away cringing. “You licked me!” He rubbed his hand on his apron before going to the sink at Lily’s station and washing his hands.

Lily just shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You totally just licked me, ew.”

Tonks blinked, the picture of a perfect alibi. “Lily is far too civilized to ever lick people Remus, don’t be ridiculous.”

Remus pointed a finger at Lily. “I’ll get you back for this.” He swore, not at all satisfied when she just stuck her tongue out at him.

“I look forward to it.” She chirped before Marlene called time and everyone went to their own stations. Remus snuck dirty looks at Lily when the camera’s weren’t on him (and once accidentally when they were - Remus could only imagine the ‘Lily and Remus Fight?’ all over bake off twitter). Sirius and James headed to their spot at the front of the tent and suddenly they were off.

“And we’re back! Welcome everyone to The Great British Bake Off!” Sirius started, smiling broadly for the camera. “Things are getting exciting, aren’t they James?”

“Oh yes,” James continued seamlessly, “Things are really heating up, we’ve made it to this season’s semi-final! I almost can’t believe it, it flew by didn’t it?”

Sirius nodded along. Remus had to smile a little at the extra bits of banter they had to slot in now that there were fewer bakers to cover. Sirius’ eyes flitted to Remus, just for a second and then he scanned the rest of the tent, but Remus knew Sirius was really looking for him. “For sure James, for sure. I think no one expected such a good year!”

Lily snuck him a little smirk and Remus rolled his eyes, miming licking his own hand to turn her mind to other things. Tonks was far more perceptive than people gave her credit for and Remus wouldn’t be surprised if she figured out about himself and Sirius just from a couple of well placed looks.

“Our lovely judges have decided that today marks the start of biscuit week!” James said, motioning to the two judges standing to the side. “Any words of wisdom for our bakers?”

“They should taste good.” Dumbledore said pleasantly, as if it wasn’t the entire point of the competition and Remus had to couch to cover the sound of him snorting.

“Well thanks for that absolutely useless piece of advice.” Sirius said with a brazen grin. “For our signature challenge, our judges would like you to prepare twenty four short-bread biscuits.”

The camera’s turned to capture the baker’s reactions while James continued.

“They should be crisp and crumbly, but still able to maintain their shape, with a golden bake, but be careful that they don’t burn.”

The bakers nodded, more than ready to begin, just waiting for the official go-ahead.

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

“So Remus,” Sirius said as he came up to Remus’ station a little bit in. “What’re you baking for us this week?”

‘You’d think you’d remember, considering I’ve been hand feeding them to you all week.’ Remus wanted to say. But of course instead he just smiled and continued weighing his sugar.

“Lemon and lavender.” He said, offering a sprig of lavender to sniff. “It tastes good, but it also smells so good. It’s a win-win really.”

Remus very pointedly did not look at the way Sirius crushed the flower between his thumb and forefinger before lifting his hand to his face to take a delicate sniff. Remus had to bite down a retort about his etiquette and instead began grating the lemon rind.

“Well it certainly looks good so far,” Sirius said, so perfectly camera-ready and ready to make some wholesome family entertainment. Remus just smiled at him and returned to his work as Sirius drifted off to chat to some of the others.

Remus made the biscuits in a bit of a haze to be perfectly honest. He had originally been surprised when he discovered the challenge was shortbreads - he thought they might be a tad simple for something as grand as the semi finals, but he learned pretty quickly that if you looked away for a second, these little bastards would go and burn on you.

“You look all nice and innocent now,” Remus said to his dough as he folded in the lemon and lavender. “But I know it’s all for show.”

“Remus, sweetheart?” Marleen asked, coming up to his station.

“Yes?”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Remus flushed. “No… I’m talking to my dough,”

Marlene nodded bemused. “Because that’s much more normal.”

Remus bit his lip. “Yes?” He said again a lot more hesitantly. Marlene just laughed and began to move on. “You sure are one hell of a man Remus Lupin.”

Remus just chuckled as he started rolling out his dough.

“What’ve you done now?” Lily asked, half teasing, half curious as she came back from the bathroom. “I leave for five minutes and I miss everything.”

Remus flicked a bit of extra flour at her as he passed by, leaving tiny white flecks speckled like snow in her hair. “Nothing you haven’t heard a hundred times before.”

“Oh were you talking to your cakes again?”

“Yup.”

“I should’ve known.”

Remus sat with his back against Lily’s station as he stared at his oven.

“Remus?” James said tentatively.

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever hear that expression - ‘a watched pot never boils’?”

Remus just raised an eyebrow, but didn’t look towards James. “Likewise I think you could say; a watched shortbread never burns.”

James laughed as he slid onto the floor next to him. “You know what? That’s fair, I can get on board with this.”

Remus knew several cameras were trained on them but he didn’t look. “Oi, James, I think you’re using talking to me as a chance to sit on your arse.”

James slung an arm over Remus’ shoulder. “Oh Remus, my love, my life, how you wound me.”

“You can stay if you make us tea.” Remus offered and nearly choked on his laughter when James half-flew from his perch to boil the kettle.

“You drive a hard bargain, but you have yourself a deal Remus.”

Remus smiled and a few minutes later he happily accepted a steaming mug from James as they both just stared into his oven.

“Psst, Remus,” James whispered. Remus gleaned over at him wryly.

“Yes?”

“Is it supposed to be this boring?”

“Doing practically nothing and getting paid for it? Why yes, yes I believe it is.”

James laughed but didn’t say any more for a moment. Remus was suddenly very aware that he was sitting next to one of the very few people who knew about himself and Sirius. He liked James, he liked him a lot and while they got on great, they had never really spent any time just the two of them. And while this wasn’t exactly the two of them hanging out - they were literally working, surrounded by people and being filmed nonetheless, it still felt a little important. Remus wished he could say something, but there was no real way to say ‘Hey, I’m falling for your best mate, let’s get to know each other better’ and be totally discreet. But James reached over and ruffled his hair once and when Remus shoved him off, laughing, he knew.

James was thinking that too.

Remus kept staring at the oven, but on the inside, he was smiling. He and James would be good friends.

James moved on after a little while, but Remus stayed where he was. At one point, he took the tray out of the oven and covered it loosely with tin foil.

“You cover it lightly, like this, see?” He explained for the camera, “This is a good trick for cakes especially - it’ll keep cooking but it prevents the top from burning. Our oven when I was growing up was a bit dodgy and it loved to burn the tops of my cakes while the inside wouldn’t even be cooked, that’s why I picked this trick up.”

Marlene grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “That might be the longest time I ‘ve filmed you without you cursing.”

“Fuck yes! Wait shit, I mean fuck, I mean, ugh just go.”

Marlene left laughing and Remus popped his tray back in the oven, making sure the tin foil was only covering the top - not secured around it, otherwise the cookies would just sweat inside and go soggy.

Remus had just taken them out of the oven to start plating them when Sirius called the ten minute mark.

“Christ this will be interesting.” Remus muttered, again to himself as he started transferring the, still hot, biscuits onto the plate.

“Don’t break, don’t break, don’t break.” He chanted, managing to get ten transferred successfully until the eleventh split in two.

“Oh you fucker.” Remus cursed, rearranging everything so he could hide it under the others. The rest however went well and in the end he had twenty four pretty good looking biscuits, all stacked neatly.

The judges came in, smiling at them. Remus had thought they might become more open when there were fewer of them, but it had seemed the opposite. He figured they must to want to get attached to anyone, let it influence or bias their decision. That was the best call, but Remus was still a little disappointed, he’d looked up to them all his life and he had barely interacted with them ever since he’d arrived.

“Mr Lupin,” McGonagall greeted as they arrived at his station, “What’ve you got for us today?”

“Lemon and lavender.” Remus said and it only took about seven weeks, but his voice didn’t tremble at all.

Dumbledore took one first, breaking it in half. “It doesn’t have the ‘snap’ we were looking for, but that’s probably just because they’re still a little warm.”

They both took a bite and there was the awkward sound of nothing but their chewing for a moment. “These are excellent.” McGonagall said and Remus thought this was it, he could die happy now. An ‘excellent’ from McGonagall, he was set.

“The flavours are lovely, and you balanced it quite well, I was worried the lavender would be too overpowering.”

Remus laughed, remembering the first time he had tried it, using so much lavender they had tasted more like soap than cookies. “A little goes a long way.” He admitted.

They both nodded, smiling as they chewed and then they were gone. Remus sighed as he sat down, those challenges were getting simultaneously more and less nerve wrecking. He was growing accustomed to them, which helped, but the stakes were infinitely higher than they had ever been before.

Remus welcomed the lunch break gratefully, all of them taking the hour to relax. They had all done really well on the challenge. Which was good, Remus supposed, but it meant there really was some tough competition if he wanted to stay.

They grabbed a spare tablecloth and threw it on the grass, collapsing down on it. Lily lay with her head in Remus’ lap and Remus had to hide his laugh when both James and Sirius looked slightly put out by it. Tonks spent the entire time trying to re-do her hair which had all fallen from the tight braids she had that morning, until Kingsley offered to take over, his fingers quick and nimble, even with Tonks’ short hair.

“Damn Kingsley, a man of many talents.” Sirius said with a low whistle.

“I think,” James began grandly, “I think that we should all just go to sleep.”

“That would make a riveting episode.” Remus agreed, I can see it now, half an hour of footage of us just sleeping.”

Lily snorted. “I mean, we could finally clear up the ‘does Remus snore’ issue. I vote yes.”

“Nah, he doesn’t.” Sirius said, Remus’ eyes snapping to him, heart pounding in his chest as he watched Sirius realise what he said. “That’s what I’d vote for anyway.” He said quickly, rushing to recover. "Look at him, does he look like someone who snores to you?”

Remus laughed, trying to move past the moment. “It’s Lily who snores.”

“I do not!” Lily protested, sitting up. “You know who snores? Tonks.”

Tonks flicked her newly plaited hair. “I shall neither confirm nor deny.”

“Translation,” Sirius added, “She definitely snores.”

“I think everyone snores, they're just all in denial.” Kingsley said, and everyone laughed, continuing eating.

“Except for me.” James said, breaking their silence and everyone just groaned. Remus lay back, staring up at the sky through the trees. All was good.

“Welcome back for our technical challenge!” Sirius welcomed as soon as the cameras had begun recording. “For today’s challenge, our judges would like you to make jammie dodgers.”

A burst of surprise lit in Remus’ chest, he had never actually made jammie dodgers, but they were a favourite of his grandmothers, so he used to always have them whenever he would go visit her.

“The biscuit should be buttery and hard, with a jam filling of your choosing.” James elaborated, clasping his hands together. “Judges? Anything to say?”

“We’d also like to see a shape in the centre of the cookie.” Dumbledore added. “Which is of course, of your own choosing.”

“Okay well thanks for that.” Sirius said, beginning to shoo them out. “Now off you go, you cheeky buggers.”

The entire tent burst out laughing and Remus knew he’d have to mock Sirius for that one later.

“Alright well, if no one see’s Sirius after today it’s because McGonagall has given him detention.” James quipped.

“Ready?”

“Set.”

“Bake!”

Remus lifted the white and blue checked cloth to peep at his little pile of ingredients and equipment.

“I don’t think I’ve had jammie dodgers since I was ten and visiting my gran.” Lily called and Remus chuckled, turning around.

“That’s literally exactly what I was thinking.”

“Hot take,” Tonks said, throwing a tea towel in their direction to get their attention, the cameras circling them all like vultures. “Only grannies like jammie dodgers, McGonagall set this challenge and hence, she has big grandmother energy.”

“Um, no,” Remus sassed. “If anyone’s the granny of the pair, it’s obviously Dumbledore.”

“Remus is the granny of our group so I think he knows best.” Lily agreed, gesturing wildly at Remus’ cream knit cardigan. Remus just laughed as he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands.

“If I’m a granny then I’m those cool ones who teach the kids curse words and give them ice cream even when the parents say no.”

Kingsley looked up from where he was intensely studying his recipe and nodded. “Remus is a cool nan; confirmed.”

Everyone applauded and Remus took a little bow. “Thank you, thank you very much. It's such an honour and as much as I’d love to address it and give you guys an hour long speech, I’m not gonna ‘cause we have a fuck ton of work to do.”

“Remus!” Marlene shrieked and he blew her a kiss. All in all, things were going well.

“These biscuits are going to be the death of me.” Remus half sang to himself as he coated his cookie cutter with far more flour than one would ever deem necessary but the dough kept sticking and Remus’ perfect circles were looking a little less than perfect. Or circular. They were more like strange blobs. His actual grandmother would have found them charming. McGonagall on the other hand, well Remus figured she’d think otherwise.

“Come on you little fucker.” He murmured and finally he managed to cut one out properly. “Oh thank fuck. Okay right let's keep this going.”

His dough seemed to agree that holding it’s shape did indeed seem to be the best course of action and pretty quickly, they were ready to be filled with jam.

“Hey Re, how’s it going over here?” Sirius asked as he came over, leaning his elbows on Remus’ counter.

“Alright, I’m just about to put the jam in.”

Sirius perked up, peering into the pot waiting on the hob. “Ooh, what kind of jam did you make?”

Remus grabbed a teaspoon and gave it to Sirius. “Try it and see.”

Sirius eyed him, “Just so you know, I’m sure your jam is excellent but I will have no idea what flavour it is.”

Remus laughed, grabbing a spoon himself to start coating the biscuits. “Just give it a go, I think even you will get this one.”

Sirius looked dubious, but did as he was told. Remus didn’t watch the way his boyfriend’s lips closed around the spoon, nope, no sir. He was a perfect professional.

(But for the record, Sirius had lovely lips).

Sirius hummed for a minute, taking his time. Taking so long in fact, Remus had assembled four whole biscuits by the time he finally, tentatively mumbled; “Raspberry?”

Remus grinned. “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!”

Sirius’s face lit up with such excitement, Remus would swear he was like a little puppy. “Really? Is it actually raspberry?”

“Yup.” Remus affirmed, popping the ‘p’ as he placed the top on another cookie. “You’re doing amazing sweetie.”

Sirius grinned and moved on just as Remus finished putting all the pieces together. E had to say, he was pretty happy with how neat the all looked, finally shaped like actual circles with a perfect little hole in the middle. He sprinkled some castor sugar over the tops and popped them in the oven, setting the timer and then he could finally relax for a moment.

“Does anyone want a cup of tea?” He asked the crew and spent the next few minutes boiling and reboiling the kettle as he took orders and made more cups of tea than Mrs Doyle in ‘Father Ted’. The remainder of all their biscuits from the last challenge were still hanging around, so Remus and the others passed them out too, everyone enjoying a nice tea break in the middle of filming. None of this section would make it into the actual final cut anyways, it never did. No one wanted to spend their night watching a bunch of strangers stare into their ovens.

The puff of hot air when Remus opened the oven was intense, but it softened and soon the tent smelled warm and welcoming. Remus transferred his biscuits carefully (none of them breaking this time) and put them on the plate just before Sirius called time.

“Alright bakers, please bring your biscuits to the table at the top of the tent.

The table looked strikingly empty with only four pictures on it. In Remus’ mind there were still ten of them, but moments like this swiftly brought in back to reality. His place today was the last in the line, furthest away from the judges, just after Kingsley. They all took their seats and then; the judges were brought in.

“Hello again everyone.” McGonagall greeted. “I hope you all haven’t been cheeky buggers.” She said with a glance towards Sirius. Sirius shot her a wink and Remus hand to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

“Right then,” Dumbledore cut in, “Let’s get started shall we?”

Lily was first and her blueberry jam went down nicely. Tonks’ elderberry jam wasn’t quite as well received - she had been a little light on the sugar and it was a tad tart apparently. Not that Remus would know but, he took their word for it. Kingsley’s was ‘unexpected’, a salted vanilla jam that Remus absolutely had to try and finally, it was Remus’ turn to be judged.

“These are a lovely golden colour to start,” McGonagall said as he picked one up, biting into it. And then she smiled.

Remus nearly stopped breathing, he got a smile from McGonagall.

“These remind me of my youth.” Dumbledore commented, unaware of the absolute chaos that was Remus’ brain in that moment.

“Me too, I love the raspberry - sometimes it’s nice to stick to the classics.” McGonagall said and then they were finished and talking quietly amongst themselves to rank them. Remus was holding hands with both Tonks and Lily, Lily on his right and Tonks on his left.

“Okay right, let’s start.” McGonagall said and once again, they were off.

“I can’t believe you called McGonagall a cheeky bugger.” Remus said as he lay with his head on Sirius’ chest that night, tucked under the quilt all snuggly and warm.

“I regret nothing.” Sirius hummed, squeezing Remus’ waist. “You know what I can believe? That you won the technical.”

Remus let out an amused huff. “You’re an eejit oh my god.”

“A loveable eejit though.” Sirius countered. Remus rolled his eyes but agreed. “Yeah, a loveable eejit.”

“Half way through this week’s episode.” Remus commented, stating the obvious. Sirius’ chest rumbled gently beneath him when he would speak.

“Woah, we’re halfway there-”

Remus twisted, resting his chin on his hands so he could peer up at Sirius. “Are you really singing Bon Jovi right now?”

Sirius shrugged, smirking. “Living on a prayer, baby.”

Remus traced Sirius’ bottom lip with his thumb. “I always hated ‘baby’ as a pet name, but you say it and I just…” His words left him so he just pressed forward, kissing Sirius. The arm around his waist coiled tighter and his hair was lovingly pushed back as he pulled away.

“So it’s good?” Sirius asked softly.

“Yeah sweetheart. Yeah, it’s good.”

“It’s time for our showstopper challenge!” James announced, looking far too peppy for seven o’ clock in the morning. Remus made a little mental note of that - Lily was a morning person too.

He was still tying his apron when Sirius continued; “For this challenge, our lovely judges have asked you to make any 3D structure or statue of your choosing.”

James picked up right where Sirius left off, the pair in perfect sync. “Your structure can be made of any kind of biscuit, and as many different types as you like, but it must be 3D and unsupported by anything inedible.”

“Basically,” Sirius translated for the audience, “We need to be able to eat it all.”

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

Remus cracked his knuckles and set to work, moving quickly. He had managed to perfect his idea in practice, he had even managed to do it all within the time limit, but he was cutting it close. He could do it all, he just had to move fast.

“How’s the house going Lily?”

Lily grinned, looking up from where she was measuring flour. “Well I’m not gonna lie Remus, currently, it’s not looking great.”

Remus laughed and went back to weighing his own ingredients. Lily was making a little replica of her house back at home. Or what she said was a replica. Honestly she could build Buckingham Palace and claimed she lived there and no one would be any wiser.

Remus was working with a lot of gingerbread today. For no particular reason, aside from the fact that it was easy to work with and good for holding its shape. Gingerbread houses were made of gingerbread for a reason. He also knew however, that everyone else had gingerbread in their structures somewhere, so they were all working to try to find ways to make theirs just that little bit different.

Remus had just put his first batch in the oven and was melting chocolate on his Bain Marie when Sirius arrived at his side.

“So Remus, what’ve you got for us today?”

“I’m making my bike.” Remus said, sliding the reference picture he had brought across the table. He saw the camera’s zoom in on it as Sirius looked it over.

“You ride a bike.” Sirius was saying. “Of course you ride a bike.”

Remus blushed. “It’s a good method of transportation I’ll have you know.”

“Can you drive?”

Remus glanced up from his chocolate at that. “Technically? Yes. Legally? No.”

Sirius laughed and all Remus wanted to do in that moment was lean forward and catch it, taste that laugh on his lips. Instead, he gave the chocolate a bit of a stir.

“Well I’ll leave you to it.” Sirius said and with that, he was gone. Remus left his chocolate melt as he went to make the biscuit for the wheels. They were going to be matcha an white chocolate and Remus just hoped they tasted okay because none of them were gluten free so he had never tasted them himself. The ‘metal’ part of the bike was gingerbread that would be coated in chocolate.

He took the gingerbread out of the oven right as he put the matcha in, taking a deep breath of the warm spicy scent. He quickly set them out on the cooling racks, as spaced out as possible because he needed to get them cooled quickly. While he was waiting in everything, he began setting up the plate he could be presenting it on, brushing it all with edible paint to look like grass with a country lane cutting through the middle. He grabbed one of the biscuits he had made just for this purpose and crumbled it up, sprinkling it over the plate to look like dirt.

After cutting the gingerbread ever so carefully into the shapes he needed, Remus coated them all with chocolate before pulling the matcha cookies out of the oven. He let them cool while he melted white chocolate and dark chocolate separately.

“Wow Lupin, you’ve got a lot going on here.” James said with a low whistle, standing back to watch Remus go back and forth between his several little tasks, stirring and cooling and assembling.

“Hi James. Can’t really talk - lot’s to do.”

“No worries, we’ll leave you to it. Just a heads up - there’s twenty minutes left.”

“Fuck, okay, thanks.” Remus said, not even glancing up as he went from the white chocolate to the dark.

He dipped the matcha in the white chocolate, setting those aside to cool as he ‘glued’ the bike together with chocolate, holding them in place as they dried.

“Fuck, fuck, I need more hands.” Remus glanced up frantically and spotted Sirius just leaving Tonks’ station. “Hey Sirius? Could I borrow you please?”

Sirius nodded and half jogged over. Remus sent him to wash his hands first, and then Sirius took his place holding the bike together while it dried so Remus could work on everything else.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He said, coming so close to kissing Sirius’ cheek before freezing and just moving past him.

“That’s alright.” Sirius grinned. “I’m here for more than just my good looks you know.”

“Oh really? What reasons would those be? Certainly not your sharp wit anyways.” Remus quipped, tapping Sirius’ hip lightly with his own.

“Oi! I could just leave you know!” Sirius said in mock outrage and Remus laughed as he filled his piping bag with dark chocolate.

“No, no, I’m sorry, please stay.” He met Sirius’ eyes and there it was just a second, but it might as well have been forever.

It would be easy to fall in love with him, Remus thought.

He blinked and secured the nozzle on the piping bag, pulling the matcha cookies close and piping the spikes and wheels of the bike on, trying to keep his hands steady and lines clean as possible.

“Okay Re, these are dry.” Sirius said, pulling his hands away to reveal all the pieces holding together on their own.

“Oh my god, amazing, thank you so much, I hereby set you free.”

Sirius brushed back a stray strand of hair, flashing that iconic Sirius Black smile. “No problem. Okay, this is your five minute warning.”

“Oh Christ, okay thanks go away so I can work please.”

Sirius’ laughter filled the tent but Remus wasn’t even smiling as he focused on setting the finishing touches. He added the wheels and carefully transferred the whole thing onto the plate-

“Bakers! Your time is up!”

Remus let out a sigh of relief as he stepped back, his bike looking pretty good, all assembled and plated. He was just pulling out his stool and sitting down when the judges walked in.

They loved Remus’. They loved all of them to be perfectly honest. This was the final, and everyone had brought their A-game. Tonks had made the leaning tower of Pisa. Kingsley had made a lovely little bookshelf, complete with little novels. Remus was more than a little jealous of that one, he had to admit. The judges were gone as quickly as they had come and the four contestants moved to sit at the top of the tent as they waited for their return.

“This is it.” Lily murmured. “Here we go.”

For the first time that day, Remus’ stomach was rolling. He wanted this so bad. It wasn’t even about winning - he just wanted to make it to the final. To prove it to little Remus, to his younger self who had dreamed about this. To his future self who could look back at this.

The judges emerged with Sirius and James, their faces blank and impossible to read.

James spoke first; “Today I have the honour of announcing our star baker.” He looked around at the four of them, pausing for dramatic effect. “Tonight, our star baker is… Kingsley.”

Remus grinned and patted Kinsley’s shoulder in congratulations. He nodded at them and at the judges, a little smile on his face, but his eyes were sparkling.

“That means I have the horrific job of announcing who’s going home.” Sirius said, his face looking actually drawn. Remus’ chest clenched, was it him? Was his boyfriend about to tell him he hadn’t made it?

“The person who won’t be joining us in this year's final is… Tonks.”

Remus’ heart soared and fell at the same time. He was staying, his friend was not.

He turned and pulled Tonks into a tight hug, her arms slipping around his waist.

“It’s alright,” She was saying, ever the positive presence, “I’m just happy to have made it here in the first place.” She pulled back and kissed Remus on the cheek before hugging Lily, the judges and presenters coming over to join them. Remus could hear McGonagall and Dumbledore talking to her, telling her how close it had been and that she was a truly fantastic baker and Remus smiled to himself. He met Sirius’ eyes and suddenly he wanted all of this to be done with so he could give a hug to the one person he actually wanted.

He sent Sirius a quick text a little later that he and Lily were going to be with Tonks, helping her pack. He laughed when Sirius responded with “Help her pack, or watch her pack?” Before he set his phone aside and went with Lily to Tonks’ room.

“Knock knock.” Lily said aloud, pushing the door that had been left slightly ajar, open. “It’s me and Re.”

“Hey guys!” Tonks said, her bright head popping out from the bathroom. “Come on in!”

Tonks was packing her toiletries so Lily and Remus threw themselves on her bed.

“We brought hot chocolate.” Remus boasted, luring Tonks out to them.

“Of course you did.” She said, sighing fondly. “I would expect no less from the two of you.”

Remus and Lily pulled her onto the bed, sitting her between them. They all sat with their backs against the headboard, legs out in front of them as they sipped their drinks.

“I can’t believe you’re not coming with us to the final.” Lily sighed, resting her head on Tonks’ shoulder.

“I know,” Tonks said, sliding her arm around Lily’s shoulder. “But I’ll be watching from home don’t you worry!”

“Any advice?” Remus joked.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, knocking her foot against Remus’. “I don’t think I’m the best person to get baking advice from, considering I’ve just been sent home, however I do have one or two things to say.”

“Oh?” Lily prompted.

None of them were even looking at each other, just staring straight ahead, but it was nice, peaceful. The window was cracked open ever so slightly, but the room was still warm and snuggly, made all the better by the abundance of hot chocolate.

“You, Lily Evans, need to get your act together and ask James out.”

“What?” Lily cried at the exact moment Remus enthusiastically nodded his head in agreement.

“Sorry Lily,” He said, leaning forward so he could see her. “But you totally do. The pair of you are mad for each other.”

“Oh you’re one to talk.” She scoffed, then covered her mouth, her eyes wide. Remus waved her off.

“It’s alright, I was going to tell her anyway.” He said to Lily, before turning to look at Tonks. “Sirius and I are dating.”

Tonks nodded. “Oh I know. I was just waiting for you to bring it up.”

Remus blinked a few times. “Wait, what?”

Tonks nodded like it was obvious. “Yeah, since like, the first week, right? It was so obvious, sure you were worse than Lily and James.”

Lily blushed, but Remus flushed harder. “We only started going out last week.” He spluttered, skin burning. That was the first thing that had surprised Tonks all night.

“Wait really? Fuck, why are boys so dumb?”

“Hey!” Remus protested, looking to Lily for help, but his friend just shrugged.

“It’s true.” She said, “They are.”

Tonks turned to look at her in accusation, pointing a long finger at Lily. “Exactly. Boys are dumb. You know this. That’s why you have to be the one to put James Potter out of his misery before you make the rest of us go insane just from watching you.”

Remus just laughed at Lily’s face and pulled Tonks in for a hug. “I’m gonna miss you.” He murmured as he kissed her iconic hair.

“Me too, but you guys can come visit, yeah?”

Remus smiled. “Oh, just try and stop me.”

Remus crept to Sirius’ room carefully, checking the hallway was clear before knocking on the door. Sirius opened it straight away, stepping aside to let Remus in before pulling him in for a kiss as soon as the door was closed.

“Hi,” Remus said, all breathy and amused. “I missed you.”

“You were with me all day.” Sirius quipped.

“Ah yes.” Remus agreed, wrapping his arms firmly around the shorter man, “But as you pointed out so astutely, there were other people there today.”

Sirius hummed happily into another kiss. “I do make an excellent point.”

Remus laughed and guided them both to the bed, the pair exhausted after a long day on their feet.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Remus asked softly as Sirius curled into his side. Sirius nodded and Remus grabbed the TV remote, turning it on with the press of a button.

“You made it to the final baby.” Sirius whispered, his voice smooth with sleep. Remus smiled, running his thumb soothingly over the skin of Sirius’ waist, just under the elastic of his sweatpants.

“I did. Now sleep love, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night Re.”

Remus smiled and brushed back Sirius’ inky hair as a movie began to play.

“Night darling.”

#let them eat cake #let them eat cake chapter 6 #LTEC #wolfstar bake off au #wolfstar #wolfstar au #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Evans #tonks #nymphadora tonks #kingsley shacklebolt #minerva mcgonagall #dumbledore #the great british bake off #tgbbo

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years ago

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Thirteen

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away” Relationship: Jemily

Rating: Explicit Summary: Foxes, lattes, churches and resolutions.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

The first thing she noticed was the snow. It was falling down on her, hitting her skin with pinpricks of ice cold. She wandered through the bookshelves, searching for something. She wasn’t sure what for.

It didn’t normally snow inside the library, but that didn’t seem to matter to her.

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she turned down another row of books, past the history section and stepping over a stack of books on the floor that was left there by some other student. To her left was a row of empty desks. It was just Emily and the books.

But, Emily didn’t feel peaceful. Something inside of her told her that she couldn’t wait around, she needed to do something, find something.

Emily trudged through the snow. Was she searching for a spot to sit and study? Was she searching for a book? When she found it, she would know.

She turned down a corridor, looking up and down the tall bookcases, her eyes skimming along the spines. They were old leather bound tomes, in rich oranges, blues and reds. They looked as if they hadn’t been read in decades. She searched for something she recognized, but nothing made sense to her as she couldn’t make out the titles or authors.

Out of frustration, she turned away to stomp back down the row, but something stopped her in her tracks.

Emily blinked at the image in front of her. It was a fox standing in the middle of the fiction section, looking at her expectantly. It was as if he had climbed out of one of the books and materialized before her eyes.

“Bonjour,” Emily said, kneeling down before the animal.

“Bonjour,” said the fox.

Emily looked around, confused at the appearance of the animal. What was a fox doing in a library? When she looked back, he was gone.

She looked around.

“Je suis là,” came the voice, from between two books, announcing his presence on the adjacent shelf.

“Qui es-tu?” Emily asked, wondering who he was—or what he was—and what on earth he was doing here in her college’s library.

“Je suis un renard,” said the fox. He was a fox. No shit.

She blinked at him, trying to figure out what she was remembering. The fox was familiar. She had seen him before… or read about him before.

It was just like out of Le Petit Prince—the book that JJ had given her for her birthday. The book was a classic children’s novel, one that Emily had read many times. It was as if the character had simply stepped out of the book.

The book was about a little boy who lived on an asteroid and was in love with a rose. He went on an adventure through space before landing on Earth. There, he befriended a fox. Emily could picture the simple watercolour illustration of the small boy prince speaking to the fox. She could almost feel the pages of the book between her fingers. She smiled as she thought of JJ’s excited face as Emily unwrapped the present a few weeks back.

This fox, like in the book, was speaking to her. She racked her brain for what she was supposed to say.

“What am I doing here?” Emily asked, this time in English.

“Je ne puis pas jouer avec toi,” said the fox, which was not the answer to her question, since he had told her that he couldn’t play with her. “Je ne suis pas apprivoisé."

I am not tamed, he said. He has not yet been tamed. Emily remembered now what she must say.

“What does tamed mean?” she asked, in French.

The fox jumped down from the bookshelf and walked through the library, his small paws leaving prints in the white snow. He was bright red against the ground and easy to follow through the familiar stacks. Emily noticed that she wasn’t cold, despite the weather, even as her breath came out in puffs that lingered in the air.

“It’s something that’s been too often neglected. It means ‘to create ties’... but you know this.”

Emily remembered this part, he was right. In the book, the boy doesn’t know what taming means, how to create ties with the wild animal. He does not yet know the meaning of friendship.

The novel was filled with layers of metaphor. It spoke to childhood, love, loss and the power of the imagination. Emily’s copy sat next to her bed, and she had been looking through it before she fell asleep that night.

The fox crept through the seemingly endless bookshelves, his tail swishing back and forth as he walked. Emily tried to keep up, but he seemed to weave through the library with a practised ease.

The fox stopped. He hopped onto a desk and curled his tail in front of him. He cocked his head and looked at her expectantly.

“Your person has run from you, correct?”

Emily stared at him. This part was not in the book. She nodded after a moment.

“I ran from my boy at first, too.”

She remembered this part: in the novel, the young boy wanted to befriend the fox. But he was impatient. The fox explained that it would take time, that the boy would have to return over multiple days to build his trust. The boy would begin sitting far from the fox, not even making eye contact. Over time, he could move closer and closer until they finally could play together. Their friendship could only be forged over time.

“Were you scared?” Emily asked.

“At first,” he replied. “But he was patient. And persistent.”

The fox swished his tail, then continued: “At times, my heart was not yet ready to greet him.”

“How did the little prince finally tame you?”

He did not answer the question, as she already knew the answer, instead he said: “Words are the source of misunderstandings.”

“Was it all worth it? Even though he left you in the end?” Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, then looked off into the distance, almost wistfully.

“Here is my secret,” he said. “It’s a very simple secret: it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

“On ne voit qu'avec le cœur," Emily repeated. She knew this line by heart. It was better in French.

The fox disappeared into the books and Emily was left alone in the empty library. His words filled her mind.

Words are the source of misunderstandings. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.

Emily woke up to the sound of her alarm blaring in her ear. She was curled up on her bed, on her side. Her blankets had fallen onto the floor, and she was close to shivering in the chill air. She slammed her hand onto her phone and fumbled until she turned off her alarm.

It was a dream. A vivid dream. She didn’t normally get those.

She stretched, her neck sore after sleeping at a weird angle. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the convoluted dream that was still clear in her mind. Somehow, even after all she had done to distract herself, JJ still was a key figure in her unconscious brain.

Emily needed to move on from that, focus on school. She couldn’t dwell on what she couldn’t control. She was an expert at pretending everything was okay; she had held herself together through worse.

She stared out the window. Instead of the white snow that had been so crisp and bright in her dream, outside was grey and dreary. She couldn’t see any hint of precipitation, frozen or otherwise, just dead grass and wet asphalt. The trees were bare as the leaves had fallen and been raked up last month, and there was salt on the roads in anticipation of the freezing temperatures.

Emily methodically dressed, donning a pair of jeans and a dark green button up shirt, pulling a sweater on top to combat the chill. She then played some music on her laptop. She focused on the lyrics, allowing her mind to go blank.

She sat in front of the mirror on her desk, carefully applying her makeup. There was something about a swoop of liquid eyeliner that made everything feel okay. At least, more okay than they used to be. If she looked put together, maybe she would feel like it, too.

Emily rarely remembered her dreams and she really wasn’t used to having to think too hard about her subconscious. All that was very Freudian, anyways. She wrote the dream off as her sleep-deprived brain mixed with reading before bed.

She donned her warmest leather jacket, the one with sherpa lining on the collar and tugged a mustard yellow beanie onto her head. Then, she lifted her tote bag onto her shoulders, and put her headphones into her ears, turning the volume up high, hoping that she could drown it all out.

During her lecture, Emily didn’t retain a single word her professor said. She mindlessly typed her notes, completely zoned out the entire time. She wondered if the words on her screen made any sense, but decided that it must be an issue for a future version of herself. This was probably a bad idea, as it was just about finals season and her exams were fast approaching.

Her mind was elsewhere: thinking about the blonde who lived across the hall. At times, Emily thought about their kiss, or imagined holding her hand, or holding her body. Then, as her daydreaming gave way to reality, she remembered the anxiety as JJ ignored her texts. She remembered JJ ending it one day, then coming back from a hookup mere days later.

Every day that week, as Emily walked down the hall, a part of her wanted to knock on JJ’s door, like she used to, just to say hi. Beyond everything else, Emily missed JJ. She missed laughing over dinner, studying French, or even lounging in one of their dorm rooms, doing nothing and talking for hours. She missed the way she smelled and her soft touch and her big blue eyes. She missed JJ’s kindness, how she would remember little details about Emily, and how she would knock her shoulder against Emily’s to get her attention. Emily missed her friend.

But the hurt was still there, and it overpowered her longing. The hallway reminded her of JJ’s words, her breaking it off, the tears in her eyes.

Emily hadn’t seen her since, with JJ doing an amazing job at avoiding her.

As soon as her class was over, she walked off of campus, heading straight to her favourite cafe downtown. It was usually busy this time of day, but she hoped the crowd would keep her from wallowing and make her focus on her work. Campus was inextricably tied to JJ. The field reminded her of JJ’s soccer games, the library of their study dates, the cafeteria of their group dinners and even the quad made her think of the time she almost ran JJ over with her skateboard when she was distracted.

Emily sat at the long sandy wood table and sipped her latte as she opened her laptop.

Members of the Prentiss family were extremely talented at pretending things were normal, that everything was fine, and Emily was no exception. She had tucked all the hurt, all the confusion, into a neat little box in the back of her mind. Storing it away until she could deal with it.

She typed away at one of her essays, only taking pauses to sip her coffee. She was busy finding sources and working on integrating quotes to develop her argument. She enjoyed the sound of her keyboard clacking, adding to the din of the cafe.

Her phone was tucked neatly away in her pocket. While there was a noticeable silence in their group chat—the one with both Emily and JJ in it—Emily’s phone seemed to be constantly pinging with messages. Derek was checking in on her, Penelope seemed to be trying to distract her, even Hotch had sent her a message to make sure she was ok. If Reid had a cellphone, she knew he’d be doing the same. Sometimes she got messages from Penelope’s number that was signed by the younger boy. Somehow, the whole world seemed to have known exactly what had happened between her and JJ.

The sun was setting faster and faster these days, and by five, it was creeping below the horizon. At this point, she had most of her essay drafted, so it felt like a good enough time to call it quits. Anyways, her back was starting to get sore from the minimalist chair and all she really wanted to do was curl up in her bed again.

Emily packed up her bag, depositing her empty mug on the counter, nodding at the barista before leaving.

She took the long way home, walking along the river and listening to her music, trying to clear her mind. She pulled her hood up against the cool air.

She walked for five minutes before slowing as she came upon a church that she had passed before. Instead of continuing along her way back to her dorm, something made her pause.

Lights lit up the facade: a red brick building that stretched up into the sky with a pointed bell tower in the centre. Columns graced the front, standing strong on either side of the large, wooden doorway.

Emily stared at it. It was simultaneously familiar and foriegn. Emily had spent almost every Sunday in church, be it Sunday school or mass with her mother. No matter where they were in the world, there was always at least one church in the city that they could attend.

In Rome, their visits had only gotten more frequent, as after school, she and Matthew would wander the Renaissance churches around the city, admiring the architecture and discussing theology and morality and free will.

Something came over her in that moment, and she found herself wandering up the steps, trying the door to see if it was unlocked. The door swung open easily, and for a moment Emily thought about walking in. She thought about kneeling before the cross and going through the familiar motions of prayer.

She thought about asking God about JJ, about what was going on, praying for guidance on what to do. She could picture the way the light would dance through the stained glass window, she could feel wooden pew under her knees, she could almost mouth the words of her prayer.

She thought of St. Georgia, her confirmation saint. She thought of her life of solitude, and how that almost sounded nice. Young Emily had thought the same thing.

She thought about the mass that she sat in her pew, with tears in her eyes, as the priest talked about how being gay was a sin. She thought about how her mother repeated those words when she came out at sixteen.

She let the door close without entering, before walking away, longing for the feeling of the wind on her face instead of the dusty smell of incense.

It had been years since she had set foot in church. The last time had been in Rome, the day she walked in with Matthew, before… well there was no before. It just was. Her pregnancy had triggered something in both of them, questions about the church that could not be prayed away.

Emily clenched her fists, her short nails digging into her palms. She remembered the way Matthew had held her hand at the doctor’s, and held her as she fought back tears, and walked arm in arm into the church in defiance of the priest.

After, their questions hadn’t subsided. Matthew read and read and read and the more he learned, the more the church transformed the place of safety and solace to something neither teen could stand behind.

Still, she missed her childhood certainty. She missed the feeling of a power greater than herself watching over her. She missed the singing—though she would never admit it—she had really enjoyed being in the choir. She missed how her mother would sit next to her, how it was often the longest time she got to spend with her busy mom.

Emily shook her head, fighting back the memories, and turned up her music and continued her walk home. She dug around in her backpack for a lighter and her pack of cigarettes. Fumbling for a moment, she lit one and breathed in the dark smoke.

The wind was biting and her leather jacket did little to keep the cold from creeping into her bones. As the sun was setting, Emily began to shiver.

After dragging her walk out as long as she could, she finally went back to her dorm. Her hands were iced cold and she was shivering. She dropped her backpack on the floor before collapsing onto her bed. She checked her phone to find a missed call from Derek.

She called him back, knowing that he was likely to pick up from only down the hall.

“Hey,” she said. She felt suddenly tired, and wondered whether he would pick up on that.

“Hey Prentiss,” Derek said. “How’s it going?”

“I’m fine,” Emily lied.

“No you’re not,” his voice came through the phone, and from the hallway, and he knocked once before opening her door.

Emily sat up, looking over to him in surprise. As if he owned the place, Derek walked over and sat down on her desk chair, letting it spin with the motion of his body.

“We’re ordering take out,” Derek said, “You can’t survive on coffee.”

“I can try,” Emily muttered.

“Pizza?” Derek proposed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “You’ve been avoiding the cafeteria.”

Emily crossed her arms. Derek was good at making her feel better, pushing her to take care of herself without forcing her to talk about her feelings. He was a private person, and so he never went too far, knowing that there were lines that neither of them crossed.

“Thai?” he said with a sly look in his eye, he knew she couldn’t refuse.

“Ok fine,” she gave up, “You know what I like.”

“That I do,” he said, dialling his phone and calling the local family-run Thai restaurant for delivery.

Forty minutes later the two of them were eating curry and watching The X-Files on Emily’s laptop. They were sprawled out on the floor, both scooping rice into their mouths as they discussed the plot of the episode—aliens—and whether or not they actually believed in them.

Emily didn’t realize how hungry she had been and struggled to remember the last full meal she had eaten.

After she had finished, she felt slightly more human, slightly less out of it. Still sad, but being sad on a full stomach, sitting next to her best friend and watching her favourite tv show was a bit more bearable.

“I just don't get it,” Emily blurted, surprising herself as the words fell out of her mouth.

“Yeah,” Derek replied, “What’s the point of probing? Don’t they have good enough technology that they could just scan someone and know what’s up?”

“I mean, yeah,” Emily said with a laugh, “But I was talking about JJ.”

She paused.

“Did I push too hard?” Emily mused, “Was it my fault?”

Emily didn’t plan to vent to Derek. She hadn’t really told him the details yet, as she was still embarrassed after Thanksgiving weekend. Telling Derek’s entire family about how she had a girlfriend and then immediately getting dumped was not great for the ego.

She learned early that it was safer keeping things to herself.

Emily had done just about anything to fit in when she was younger. She was desperate to be normal. To be someone that wasn’t the weird queer girl that moved around a lot. She learned languages, learned cultures. She learned how to wear the right clothes, say the right thing. She tried so, so hard to be normal, and yet she never seemed to do it right.

In her senior year, Emily finally gave up. She dyed her hair, did her make up in a way she knew enraged her mother, and dressed the exact opposite of what the other kids did.

Since then, Emily was trying to focus on being herself. Derek was her first friend to really accept her for her, and over the past year and a half, she felt herself beginning to relax around him. In her second year at college, she was no longer the new kid.

She had started to feel comfortable with him, and all of their new friends, so she was kicking herself for letting things with JJ blow up in her face. She should have known this was all too good to be true.

“Em,” Derek said, “You can’t blame yourself. There’s definitely more going on with her that we don’t know.”

“Did Pen say something?” Emily said hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck, “She hasn’t said anything outright, ‘cause, y’know it’s all so complicated. We’re friends with both of you. But she made it seem like it wasn’t just you.”

Emily gulped at the guilt she felt when she thought of how all of this with JJ must be hurting her friends. They had all gotten so close this semester, and she hated the thought of ruining it for everyone.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Emily said with a sardonic laugh.

“Essentially,” he said.

“Look Prentiss,” Derek said, “I think this is just a hiccup. You’ll figure it out. You two just need to talk and stop running from each other.”

“How do I get her to stop running from me?” Emily asked, her dream vivid in her mind once again.

“Wait it out,” he said, “She’ll come back to you eventually. For now, eat some mango.”

He offered her the dessert, some mango and sticky rice that they had gotten to share. Emily took some with a grin.

She could wait. JJ was worth waiting for.

———

Emily was almost ready for bed when she heard a knock at her door. Derek had stayed for most of the evening, watching tv and talking for hours to keep her mind off of things. He had wandered out around nine, as he had an early practise the next morning.

She was just about to get undressed after brushing her teeth and washing her face. She stood in the centre of her room with her fly half undone as she heard the sound. She zipped her pants back up and walked to her door, unlocking it, expecting to see Derek returning for something that he had forgotten. Instead, she was face to face with Jennifer Jareau.

“Hi,” JJ said. “Can we talk?”

In JJ’s hands was a large tin filled with homemade chocolate chip cookies. They were piled high in the tin, perfectly baked with picturesque chocolate chips still warm from the oven. On JJ’s face was a nervous expression as she held out the gift for Emily to take.

Emily stood and stared at JJ, wondering if she was real or if she had finally snapped and was hallucinating.

A moment passed. JJ smiled nervously at her, big blue eyes boring into Emily’s own.

Emily took the cookies.

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily cm #jj x emily #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #fanfiction #fanfic #jemily fanfiction #gravelyhumerus cm college au #my post #my writing #sweater weather au #sorry for the delay!!!!#life got in the way

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ephyla · 4 years ago

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Midsummer Relaxation

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely sets anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast but all he desired was a break. Thank the Gods for marrying such a wonderful woman.

oOo

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over the village for days, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely set anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted, prone to often make mistakes that drove the Chief of New Berk wild. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast, but also had to settle petty quarrels between sleep-deprived Vikings; avoiding sharp flying objects on the occasion. It was the perfect recipe for chaos and he was worried that they will not be ready on time. If one thing went according to plan, three more things would set them back again. Food went missing, tables were broken, celebrative outfits were set on fire. All he wanted to do relax, he felt like he’s been awake for seven days straight and his mind isn’t cooperating anymore, just begging to shut down for a whole month. By now, he was just acting like a wandering draugr. He really wondered how his father managed to handle this without breaking a sweat and dearly wished he was by his side, guiding him.

His wife was by his side the entire time, shouldering half of the responsibilities. Even she, despite being quite tired as well (he swore he saw her take a power nap on top of a ladder last time), handled it better than himself. She seemed to be fuelled by a spark of positive energy. He remembered a few years back when the twins explained the change in their friends’ attitude towards the Midnight Sun, since then, Astrid found a dark place to sleep so she doesn’t get any more of those embarrassing memories again. What kind of Hofferson would ever call a Jorgenson handsome? Of course, the sun still had its effects on her, but her overzealous demeanour toned down to a bearable extent. While it did seem a bit overwhelming sometimes, it kept Hiccup’s spirits up. It was their first Midsummer as a wedded couple and he really didn’t want to mess this up.

Today, however, she had suddenly requested to immediately go home after being done with only half of her duties done. For someone who prides herself on being so effective and getting the work done, it was very unusual of her to abandon her responsibilities. This worried Hiccup, so he didn’t object and watched her dash towards their house. He didn’t know how much time passed, the sun remained in its usual elevated position, but he felt like tonight will be a four blocks of ice kind of night. He felt like there was absolutely no progress made today despite getting up in the early hours. He couldn’t even track the time since the sun was barely moving. Some muttonhead decided it was a smart idea to open Sven’s sheeps’ pen and let the uncoordinated Vikings chase them like toddlers who could barely walk yet. If he could get his hands on that person, he swore he was going to get an earful that even his late father, Stoick, would be impressed by. He hoped that Astrid got enough rest so she can go back to being her feisty, short-tempered self. He would greatly benefit from that. The Berkians, despite being completely out of control, would never cross with a hot-blooded, axe-wielding Valkyrie and would sober up at the speed of light.

Speaking of his beloved blonde wife, he saw her approach him with a smile on her face. Even though he was absolutely exhausted, he smiled back, her presence bringing him a sense of comfort. He extended his hand to her and she took it, bringing her closer to him, enlacing her waist, and pressing small kisses on her neck. She giggled in a very un-Astridlike way.

“Well, I’m not one to object to this kind of greeting, but we’re in the middle of town and people are looking.” Astrid said as she observed around her. Gobber was covering a kid’s eyes. Some villagers had a dumbfounded expression on their faces, rarely seeing Hiccup initiating such an intimate gesture; apart from the occasional lip or forehead kiss. Others just cheered or ignored them. Hiccup let out a small whine and rested his head on her shoulder, keeping his arms wrapped around her form.

“I missed you.” He whimpered.

“I wasn’t gone for that long, babe.” She replied as she stroked his hair. Her poor husband has the bad habit of overworking himself, and the fact that no one can distinguish between day and night definitely didn’t help. “Come home with me, I have something to show you.”

“I’m sorry Milady, I still have work to do, we’re behind schedule and Midsummer is in a week.” His reply a bit muffled in her shoulder.

“Go and have yer fun, lad. You’ve worked more than anyone here and deserve some respite. And besides, how can ye refuse yer wife’s invitation?” The young couple turned their heads to look at Gobber approaching them. “Ah, I remember when Stoick was acting just like ye, never knowing when to stop. It took Valka threatening not to share their marital bed anymore, snapped ‘im right out of it, and practically dragged ‘im home. The next morning they kept yawning all over the place, creating a chain of never-ending yawns. Now that I think about it, that’s probably how ye were concei-“

“-OKAY! That’s enough Gobber. I got your point.” Hiccup exclaimed in horror. While he was used to hanging around people that did not have a filter, Gobber was probably the one he feared the most. Since his best friend’s demise, the blacksmith has been recounting stories of him. Some were great to listen to, remembering the bravery and leadership of Stoick the Vast; but some were just better to keep to oneself. With the approach of the Midnight Sun’s peak, Gobber has gotten worse and Hiccup would’ve much preferred wearing the earbuds he made once during his encounter with the Death Song, just to save himself of the embarrassing images his mentor so crassly described to him.

Astrid looked at Gobber with a mixture of disgust and amusement, before deciding to grab her stunned husband’s arm and pulling him towards their house, away from the growing crowd of curious Vikings. She hoped her parents didn’t witness this whole ordeal.

“Astrid, I don’t think I have the energy to do what Gobber obnoxiously suggested, maybe-“ Hiccup said as he was being pulled by his wife.

“-Hush you. That’s not what I had in mind when I came to get you.” She cut him off, continuing to pull him towards their house. She let go of his arm once they crossed their threshold’s doorframe and closed the door, locked it just in case those nosy Vikings decided to rudely barge in.

After being exposed to the sunlight for so long, Hiccup’s eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room, illuminated by a couple of candles. He could smell a pleasant fragrant scent in the room and spotted their bathtub in front of the lit fireplace; the rugs been removed. Astrid led him to the bathtub and sat him down on the chair that was deliberately placed right next to it. She saw his questioning gaze.

“Gobber was right about you working harder than anyone here in this village. You deserve to relax a bit, take some time off.”

“You know I can’t afford to relax, now. Not when Midsommer is so close. Those sleep-deprived Vikings aren’t going to lead themselves, they can barely listen to me when I’m there. I’ll rest once we’re done.” He said, preparing to stand up again. Astrid pushed him down.

“I’ve asked your mom to take your place for a bit. She’s surprisingly unaffected by the sun’s constant presence. And she agreed that you needed a day off. Everyone could see how tired you are.” Astrid started unbuttoning his (GUARD STUFF). “And I want to take care of my husband. Will you let me?” Hiccup gulped, his words not coming out. He simply nodded. It’s been a while since she saw him being bashful around her. She gratefully smiled at him and pecked him on the lips.

She proceeded to fully undress him, and took off his prosthetic, placing it within reach of the chair. Gone were the days Hiccup felt ashamed of showing his scar. Astrid made sure to show him how much he meant to her, leg or no leg. When he was coming home after a rough day of chiefing, she would give him his ice blocks and tell him to take care of his migraines while she took care of his leg, massaging it. She would sometimes bring it to her lips and kiss it, showing her appreciation to him. He would always beam at her every time she did this. She frowned when she saw the current redness of his stump, also spotting a blister forming.

“Let me help you get in the tub. Just relax. I’ll massage your leg when I come back, I’m going to get some food from the Great Hall.” She said as she rose from her kneeling position. Her cooking did improve over time thanks to Hiccup and Gobber, but she wanted his day off to be perfect, which wasn’t the case for her cooking yet. She tried to make a nice intricate meal for the two of them, which is why she left so early. However, her attempts were all in vain as the food always ended up burning. In the end, she had to admit defeat.

Hiccup grabbed her wrist. “Join me?”

Astrid contemplated his words for a few seconds before nodding. She can grab dinner later. She wrapped her husband’s arm around her shoulder and helped him get into the tub. The water wasn’t too warm since they were in the hottest month of Berk, but it wasn’t cold to the point he would start shivering after being submerged for a couple of minutes.

Hiccup looked over at his wife undress. He had seen her in this state countless times, even before they were married; but it always felt like the first time. He was the only Viking that she allowed to see her like this, with her guard down. Her body wasn’t unscathed. It was filled with scars and burns, proving that this woman was a warrior that has been through so many battles and came out victorious every time. She wouldn’t hesitate to swing an axe to a skull if someone ever looked at her funny. So, this woman allowing him to witness her in her most vulnerable state was an absolute honour to him, that he would never take for granted. Her scars were a part of her and accentuated her beauty and he made sure to always remind her of it.

“Allow me.” He said as he extended a hand towards her. She knew what he wanted and turned her back to him. He rose, sat on the edge of the tub and pulled the leather band that kept her braid in place off. He slowly undid his wife’s braid, letting her gold strands cascade down to her lower back. He then gathered her hair in his hand and swept it over her shoulder, exposing her freckled neck and scarred back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed a loving kiss on the largest scar she had. A scar trailed from her right shoulder to the left side of her hip. She was proud of that scar as it was a reminder of her saving his life from an assassination attempt. During the yearly Thing meeting between multiple tribes, when the dragons and some Viking tribes were still cohabiting together, a spy has been placed within them, trying to poison the Dragon-loving Chiefs. Astrid and Heather caught on pretty quickly and managed to expose the spy in front of all the Chiefs. Being surrounded, no one expected the spy to suddenly lunge himself at Hiccup with his sword. Astrid, being the closest to him and desperate to keep him unharmed, had used her back as a shield. The wound hurt like Hel but it was worth it. She was so scared to have failed him as his then-General, she didn’t care that she put her life on the line to save his. A Chief protects his own, but it’s also the General’s job to protect the people AND the Chief. Hiccup wouldn’t let her leave his sight for weeks after that, eternally grateful and forever scared he was going to lose her that day.

“You’re absolutely beautiful.” He told her. His eyes were filled with wonder to this Valkyrie in front of him. She smiled gratefully at him and climbed in the bathtub, sitting opposite of him.

She took his stump in her hands and started to delicately massage it, coaxing a few moans of relief out of him. Her nimble fingers were definitely a gift from the Gods. She managed to soothe the knots in his leg with great accuracy. All day, he had to focus on the utter chaos happening in the village that he didn’t have the time to focus on himself and his discomfort, ignoring the pains coming from his leg begging him to take the weight off of it. She carefully avoided the small blister forming near the bottom of the stump.

“Mmmh, this feels so good.” Hiccup sighed with pleasure as he closed his eye, focussing on the sensation.

“You’ve been standing for too long, babe. I know the Midsummer celebration is stressing you out, but you’ve got to start listening to your body when it tells you to rest.” He opened his eyes, looking at her hands doing their wonders underwater.

“I know, I know. But it’s a bit hard to do that when we keep progressing backward each day. I swear to Odin, every time I look away, someone messes up something, I just can’t do it.” Astrid’s hand rose to swipe Hiccup’s bangs back, revealing his beautiful green eyes. Since the start of the preparations a few weeks ago, he didn’t have the time to let her cut his hair.

“You can’t do it on your own. Remember, you have me. You have your mom, Gobber, Eret and the gang. We’re all here to help you. You just have to accept the help instead of shouldering most of the responsibilities. We’re willing to take some of the load off you.” She said as she grazed her thumb over his dark eye bags. “I can assure you that not only the work will get done much faster, but you’ll be more productive with a rested body and a peaceful mind.” She kissed his forehead. Hiccup wrapped his arms around her, making her sit in his lap. He savoured the rare peaceful moment he had with his beloved wife. She had the gift of shutting all the voices tormenting his mind and the gentle touch to relax his body in the blink of an eye. She was everything to him. He could be the best version of himself when she’s with him and never took her for granted; not since the betrothal gift incident.

“Just don’t forget you’re still human, there’s so much your body can handle before it shuts down.” She added.

“Yeah, you’re right. I might have been pushing myself pretty hard.” Hiccup replied, raising his head to look at her. There was a warmness to her that he never thought she would ever have; especially directed towards him. He remembered her words of encouragement back on the clifftops, as he was losing hope. I am the person I am today because of you. Over the years, he saw how she started to warm up to him and the rest of the people. She had been trained for years to be this fearless, unemotional warrior. Back then, the fear of losing the people you love was at its peak, so she was quick to learn how to shut her feelings down and just train from dawn till dusk. Today, she was a softer and warmer person; which didn’t mean she was weaker by any means. But with the end of the Dragon War, she has found herself a partner that saw her as an equal. They both found themselves a new purpose in life and didn’t have to fear the threat of a dragon raid any longer, which allowed them to find happiness along the way. They were happy here.

Astrid got off his lap and reached for the soap that was earlier placed at a reachable distance. She looked back at him. “Soak.” And so, he plunged his head underwater before coming back up with his bangs fully covering his eyes. She stifled a laugh as did he. “I haven’t planned to cut your hair today, so I’ll do that next laugardagr, you think you can survive until then?” She started washing his hair with the soap in her hands.

“You made a whole schedule just to help me relax? A schedule? Did I mistakenly marry Fishlegs?” This earned him a pinch on his nipple. “OW! You know they’re sensitive. I did not deserve that!” She laughed as she brought her hands back to massage his scalp. The nipple pinching forgotten, his eyes rolled back into his skull, fully appreciating the head massage. “Ooh yeah, that feels nice.” Astrid brought his bangs back down to cover his eyes and gathered the excess foam and piled it upon his head in the form two horns. She exploded in laughter at the ridiculous sight. “Wha- Astriiid!“

“You look like Snotlout’s pet yak! Oh Gods- I can’t!” She wheezed.

Hiccup was not impressed and got rid of the foam and swiped his bangs back, exposing his frown. His small smile betrayed him though. It was rare to see Astrid lose composure and in a burst of full-blown laughter. It made him break his frown and laugh with her.

“You, young lady, are in reeeally big trouble. Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yakkity’s long lost brother?” She joked.

“Okay, that’s it, come here you!” He grabbed her by the waist and started poking her sides, knowing very well she was ticklish there. “I shall not tolerate this type of disrespect on my island.”

She tried to grab his arm, but this time he was prepared and pinned her arms by wrapping an arm around her and continuing tormenting her with the other. How she wished they were fifteen years old again. “N-No- St-Stop!”

“Then say, ‘My husband is the strongest and most handsome Viking in all of Midgard’. Say it.”

“Hahaha, N-not on yo-your life!” Having minimal movement of her arms, Astrid tried to reach downwards instead of fighting the death grip he had around her. She pinched the inside of his thigh, so very close to his precious jewels, making him jump. “Astrid! No!” He stopped tickling her but kept his arm around her.

“I will pinch higher if you don’t let me go, babe.” She tried to catch her breath from all the tickling.

“You’re awful, absolutely awful.” He whined as he let her go.

“You’re lucky this is your relaxation time.” She said, a small glint in her eyes.

“Oh yeah, what kind of torment would you inflict on your poor one-legged husband?” He challenged.

“Something that would require you to use your cane for the next day or so.” She fired back; a small, dangerous smile etched on her face. Hiccup’s eyes widened and he gulped. “But we’re both tired and I did promise to take care of my sweet husband, haven’t I? So, behave.” She flicked his exposed forehead.

“Ow. How did I get myself into this mess?” He rubbed the sore spot.

“You kidnapped me and threw me on top of a tree.” She replied with a straight face.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, you’ve had soap in your hair for long enough, rinse.” She ordered. He dived in again, washing off the soap.

“Can I wash your hair?” He asked.

“But it’s your time off.”

“Yeah, but it’s yours too. You worked just as hard. You deserve to be taken care of too.” He replied.

“You worked harder.” He rolled his eyes.

“Astrid, this isn’t a competition. I want to take care of my wife. Will you let me?” He grabbed her hand and slowly spun her around in the narrow tub and made her sit between his legs.

“You’re always looking for an excuse to touch my hair.” She jokingly said. There was an element of truth though. He loved touching her hair, combing his fingers through her long strands. Since they have gotten married, he insisted on combing and braiding her hair in the morning. There was just something intimate and therapeutic about touching her hair. She was protective over it, never letting anyone but him touch it. The first time she let down her hair for him was during the incident that left her temporarily blind. She was not able to see how much soot covered her precious hair, so she entrusted it in his care. He remembers his heart beating so fast that he thought it was going to burst from his chest. He felt honoured, and has been craving to touch her beautiful golden locks ever since.

Astrid on the other hand, hated when people touched her hair. It was her pride and joy (after Stormfly and her axe). As a child, every time her mom would braid her hair, she would always pull too hard, leaving her sore. The twins were more chaotic when they were kids. They would get away with anything because kids will be kids. As a prank, they decided it would be funny to set her hair on fire, forcing her to cut it above her shoulders. That day, she saw red and very nearly beat them to death. They were all severely punished for it, but no one has ever attempted to touch her hair ever again. He remembered that day very well, it was probably the first time he saw her cry. That’s when he learned how attached she was to her hair. The way she preened on it every night since they became a couple on the Edge reminded him so much of Stormfly. Her dragon always made sure there was not a single hair out of place after a flight. It amused him how she trusted a dragon more than Vikings to manage her hair. Stormfly had the gentle touch that Astrid craved someone to have. She always wanted her rider to look the best.

“Well?” Astrid asked as she looked back. Hiccup’s thoughts were cut off.

“Oh...Uh yeah, my bad.” He started to massage her scalp as she did him.

“Okay, I’m done. You can rinse.” He said after working on her hair for the past couple of minutes.

She dipped her head underwater and got rid of the soap before emerging again.

“Thanks.” She turned her head and smiled at him.

“I should be thanking you; this whole ‘bath’ idea was yours. It felt nice.” He kissed her exposed shoulder as he embraced her.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. We’re not done.” She patted his hand.

“Not done?”

“What, did you really think that was it? Come on, let’s get out before our skin shrivels up like a prune.” She got out of his arms, turned around, and grabbed him. She helped him up and guided him to the chair, passed him a towel, and proceeded to dry themselves before taking his prosthetic and putting it back on his stump. She started to put her clothes on, so Hiccup followed suit until she stopped him.

“Nuh-uh, just wear a towel, I highly doubt you want your clothes to be stained with oil.”

“What?”

“A massage, Hiccup. I’m going to give you a massage. Gods, even a blind man would know how tense you are just by standing near you.” She answered.

“Why are you getting dressed then? Don’t I get to give you one?”

“Next laugardagr, after I trim that overgrown mop of hair of yours. Gods have mercy on my shears.”

“S-Shears?! And by the way, my hair isn’t that bad!” Hiccup dramatically exclaimed. Astrid rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen a man with that much hair on their head, I swear if we shave everything off, we’ll have enough to make a scarf. No need for sheep anymore.”

“First, I’m a yak, now I’m a sheep? Is that how you see me, Astrid? Nothing more than livestock? How you wound me.” He brought a hand up to his heart. Astrid let out a cackle.

“You are such a drama queen. Come on, get up your highness, there’s fresh meat to be tenderized before I chop it off and feed it to the village.” She helped him up and headed towards their bedroom.

“Please Astrid, can you be any more creepy?” It was his turn to roll his eyes.

They finally reached their room. The shutters were sealed shut, preventing most of the light to penetrate the room. Candles were illuminated, giving off the same soothing atmosphere as downstairs, cutting them off from the agitated outside world. The bed was covered by a large towel, probably to avoid the oil soak into their sheets. Astrid made her husband lie down on his stomach, removed his prosthetic again, and sat on his butt. She started tracing his back muscles with feathery fingers which made him shivers. While Hiccup was still a lean man, he definitely wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old, shy boy that she found herself falling in love with. He quickly gained muscle mass thanks to dragon-riding and her extensive sword fighting lessons. Just like all the other riders, he started to lose some after the dragons’ departure a year ago. He remained, in her eyes, the most beautiful man ever.

She caressed his back and leaned forward, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, making him sigh lovingly. He was clearly enjoying her pampering and she wasn’t about to stop any time soon. She reached for the small vial that was ready to be used from their bedside table and poured the contents in her hands and rubbed them together to heat it up a bit. Astrid proceeded to rub his shoulders first, trying to undo that visible tension. She added her bodyweight as she tried to loosen those knots that caused his painful backaches.

“Mmh, yeah that’s the spot.” Hiccup moaned as she rubbed a specific sore area. She continued her ministrations for a bit and slowly moved onto his lower once she was satisfied with how loose and relaxed his shoulders became.

“How are you feeling?” She asked while kneading his legs.

“Like a newborn yak.” He replied, his voice muffled by the pillows. She sniggered, happy that he’s enjoying this so much.

Hiccup can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. He truly thought he was going to melt into a puddle under her magic hands. He knew he didn’t know when to stop working. His muscles could be aching and his bones could be breaking, but he never stops until someone does or until he collapses. He had big shoes to fill and couldn’t bear to let his village down. Not when his father did a tremendous job at leading. Once Stoick finally admitted to his blindness, he saw so much growth and potential in his son, and Hiccup did his best to uphold what his father saw in him. While Stoick had to lead alone for years, Hiccup couldn’t be any more grateful to have an amazing partner by his side, supporting him. He knew he wouldn’t remain sane had he lost her like his father lost his wife. He was no idiot. He saw how he struggled when his soulmate was believed to be dead and couldn’t possibly see a future without Astrid. She was everything to him and more. The entire village knew that. They weren’t being led by the Chief and the Chief’s wife. They were Chief and Chieftess. Equals. One couldn’t function without the other. Some would say that they’re too dependent on each other and would lead the tribe to their downfall. But the Berkians knew better. Together, they were stronger than anyone.

“Turn around.” She ordered. And he complied. She sat back on his lap and leaned down to kiss him. He quickly wrapped his arm around her and savoured their kiss. They should do this more often. He missed having some quality time with just her.

Just as his hands started traveling a bit lower, a large grumbling sound resonated across the room. They separated and looked at each other. The couple started laughing.

“Well, someone is hungry. When was the last time you ate?” Astrid asked.

“Honestly, I can’t remember.” He sheepishly replied. She sighed. “Go sit in front of the hearth and let your hair dry. I’ll go grab some food from the Great Hall, I’ll be back soon.” She passed him his prosthetic and headed downstairs, leaving their household on the quest for food.

He doesn’t know how long he had been staring at the flames when she came back, a basket in hand. She approached him and sat on the floor beside him, handing him the food.

“Thank you, Milady.” He smiled at her.

“Sorry about not having any meals prepared at home.” She timidly said, looking down at her bowl of stew. “I tried to cook something from my mom’s recipes but my cooking skills are still pretty subpar. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t perfect.”

He recognized those words. It just wasn’t perfect. That’s why it took them so long to become a couple, to begin with. He knew he was romantic when it comes to being in a relationship. Even before he set his eyes on anyone, he already thought of perfect scenarios with his soulmate. All the gestures and gifts; anything to quench this loneliness he felt as a young boy. He wanted his partner to feel loved. That’s why the medallion incident hit him hard. Since when did he start neglecting Astrid, causing her to feel that exact same loneliness he once felt? He never thought she was a romantic, being a hardcore shieldmaiden most of her life. But he learned that she also longed for love, she was just better at hiding it. At that time, he was still self-conscious. He has never heard her telling him that she loved him, but hearing her share her insecurities, he realized that she has. So many times, through a variation of loving gestures that she reserved for him and only him. He felt guilty for being so blind, which is why he made up for it. She deserved the best. She deserved perfect.

“Hey.” He scooted closer to her, their shoulders bumping. “This seems pretty perfect to me.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “You have no idea how eternally grateful I am to have you. This whole thing you’ve prepared for me is just perfect. I love it. I love you. So much. Whether you managed to cook an intricate meal or just brought food back from the Great Hall wouldn’t have changed anything. You did this for me, and it made me so happy. And I get to spend some time with you. I couldn’t ask for more, Astrid. Thank you.” He tenderly kissed her lips.

“I’m glad.” She paused. “And relieved.” She confessed, a smile on her lips.

They happily ate in silence, occasionally striking a conversation or just randomly stole a kiss from each other; just enjoying each other’s presence.

Their empty bowls were cast aside as they cuddled in front of the fire; savouring this rare moment of peace and quiet. Hiccup ran his fingers through her now dry hair.

“Will you let me braid your hair?” She looked at him for a few seconds before nodding and turning her back to him. He delicately combed through her silky golden tresses with his fingers, undoing the small knots and separated her hair into three parts. He expertly twisted the locks in a loose braid. Usually, Astrid wouldn’t braid her hair when going to bed as it provided a thin layer of heat for her neck. Winter in New Berk was just as merciless as Old Berk, but right now, they were approaching the hottest days of the year. While the air was still cool when evening came, she didn’t need that much coverage as the fire heated the room to a perfect temperature.

Astrid passed the leather band that was hanging on her wrist to her husband as he finished tending her hair. He attached it and swept her hair over her shoulder. Placing a light peck on the nape. She shivered at the contact and fell back, trusting Hiccup to catch her, which he did. He pressed his lips on her now accessible forehead. She laid in his arms for a while, just relishing the feeling of having his arms around her and the small, tickling kisses all across her face.

“Is this what you’ve been up to the whole time when you said you wanted to go home?” He asked.

“The failed cooking took most of my time.” She lamented.

“Did you have time to rest?” Astrid looked away. She knew she needed extra time to do the cooking, but she didn’t expect to fail that hard. In the end, it took much more time than she expected. Not that she felt like she needed a break, her husband needed it more than she did. But she was hoping to have more quality time with him. Unfortunately, after the fourth try, she decided to throw the towel.

“I’ll rest when you do.” Just as she said that the blonde Viking let out a yawn.

“Well, someone is getting tired.” Hiccup teased.

“I’ve been tired since our beloved Goddess Sol decided to show off all her glory even more so than usual.” Hiccup fought back a yawn that didn’t go unnoticed by his wife. “Seems like I’m not the only one that’s tired. Come on babe, let’s get you to bed.” She freed herself from his embrace and got up, lending a hand to help her husband up too. They headed upstairs, leaving the dirty dishes for tomorrow.

Once in their bedroom again, they undressed and put on their thin nightwear, hoping to finally get a comfortable night of sleep. They got in bed and Hiccup spooned her, letting her get comfortable in his arms. They sighed in content.

“Astrid?” He hesitantly called out, hoping she didn’t already fall asleep.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me”

“I know, but you always seem to know what I need before I even do. So, I want to thank you. I really appreciate it. I love you, Milady.” He kissed the back of her head.

She squeezed his hand that was resting around her waist. “I love you too.” She sleepily answered.

He tightened his arms around her as he let sleep consume him.

Gods, how he loved that woman.

oOo

So this one-shot was written while I was writing another Hiccstrid story. I just needed a break since I was having a writer's block and I desperately needed some heartwarming fluff because the other one is heavy, at least for me it is. This one-shot could possibly have a potential smut scene one day, I just have no idea how to write those yet.

The other story will be posted soon, depending on how inspired I am. It's either going to be a long one-shot or a short chaptered fiction. To this day, I have written around 11K words, and it could possibly reach 20K. All I'm going to reveal for now is that Astrid is going to have a bad time. Hopefully you guys will be interested.

Also, would anyone be interested in a separate one-shot on how Astrid got that scar? I don't know why, I love Astrid so much that I need to read/write Astrid!Whump fics.

#hiccstrid fanfiction #fanfic #hiccstrid #married life #Astrid Hofferson #Hiccup Haddock #httyd #httyd 3

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