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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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A Beautiful Little Fool | dark!Sebastian Stan x reader (The Great Gatsby AU)

well, The Great Gatsby entered the public domain today, so I thought I’d besmirch it with some filthy dark smut. overall I did not put too much effort into relating my story to the plot or themes of the novel, just the setting and basic instigating actions, so don’t look too hard for an obvious allegory or familiar characters. this stunning moodboard (and, best of all, the incredible edits of seb as gatsby) was made by @nsfwsebbie who was also so kind as to beta for me and be my sounding board, thank you so much!!

summary: a reclusive millionaire throws extravagant parties in hopes that his lost love will attend and he can get one more chance to win her back. one can get used to getting whatever they desire, a little too comfortable with the idea that money can attain anything.

word count: 5.2k

warnings: smut (noncon/heavy dubcon), forced infidelity, a touch of breeding kink, period-accurate sexism (if anything it's a bit more toned down compared to 'period-accurate'), very slight yandere energy, obsession, one (1) slap

all my works are 18+, if you are under 18 please do not read

I was within and without; simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.

You could already hear the music and you were still a block away. “Sounds like quite the ball,” Walter observed, and you clung tighter onto his arm as you walked with him along the damp pavement. “Seems like the rumors might just be true about Stan parties.”

“All the rumors are true,” you informed him quickly, pulling your shawl up to protect your shoulders a bit better from the chilly evening breeze, “except for one.”

You took in a slow, deep breath as you observed the mansion from the outside; partygoers were mingling about in the yard and gardens, even though it was much too cold to be outside for very long, in your humble opinion. Walter opened the door for you, being polite that way, but you found yourself hesitating before you stepped in out of the dark and the cold into the overwhelming light and warmth of his mansion.

You thought maybe you could avoid him, at least for the first hour or so of the party, but it was like he had been waiting at the door just for you to arrive, twiddling his ring-adorned thumbs in that gaudy tuxedo of his.

“Darling!” Sebastian greeted with a beaming grin, outstretching his arms (a cane in one hand, and a drink in the other) to wrap you in an embrace. “You’re late!”

“Fashionably,” you defended with a nervous laugh, pulling back from the hug a little sooner than he seemed to want you to. You almost forgot Walter was standing right beside you, and an awkward beat made you suddenly remember they ought to be introduced. “Oh! Sebastian, I’m not sure you’ve met my fiancé, Walter Penner.”

“Pleasure,” Walter offered his hand for a handshake, smiling warmly. “Your home is stunning, I must say. You… really know how to throw a party.”

Sebastian just shrugged like it was nothing before returning the handshake, but his cheeks were a little pinker than they were before— maybe it was just the draft you’d let in when you and your date had entered the front door. “The pleasure’s all mine,” he assured, “I’ve been hearing so much about you from your lovely fiancée here, I’m excited to see if it’s all true.”

“Walter said the same thing about you, outside,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, and your date cast you a brief glare of embarrassment.

“She’s never been too good at keeping secrets,” Sebastian chuckled, “yours, mine, or hers.”

The negging comment made your cheeks warm a little, wondering if you should defend yourself, but Walter spoke instead. “You must be used to it by now, I hear the two of you have been close friends since you were children.”

Memories of summer flashed in your mind, of green soft grass between toes and secret hideaways in trees and warm sunshine casting the countryside in a golden glow. It seemed like that was all so far away now, the hilly landscape replaced with industry, the sun outshined by the electrical lights that seemed to cover nearly the entire mansion these days.

��Yes,” Sebastian agreed, tearing you from your train of imaginative thought and turning to address you, “you’ve known me since I was just a penniless dreamer with two good legs.”

You were a little surprised he was so comfortable admitting that he didn’t come from wealth. Maybe some people thought it was more inspiring that way, but others would say that it was impossible for him to truly shed his place in society as a poor sharecropper’s son.

But then again, they would say the same thing about you, and you’d become engaged to the wealthiest bachelor in Manhattan, as well as a man you were lucky enough to say you were truly in love with.

Sebastian let the two of you go and enjoy the party for a while, though you were sure you could feel his eyes on you all the while. Walter went and fetched the two of you some drinks, while you waited beside a small statuette that Sebastian must have collected some time, tilting your head as you observed it. He had an eye for art that you couldn’t relate to, although you at least understood why he might enjoy a bronze cast of a beautiful nude woman.

As some young women flocked in a group beside you, their conversation became impossible to ignore. “He’s single,” one of them announced, “and fabulously wealthy. The perfect man.”

“Yes,” another agreed, “but he’s so reserved.”

“I like that!” the first defended.

“I think you’d like anything about somebody who could afford to throw a party like this,” yet another accused with a smirk. A fit of giggles made it seem like the rest agreed with that sentiment.

“You’re all just jealous because he was looking at me,” she frowned defensively. “He’ll want a wife sometime, and I’ll be here waiting.”

You were almost compelled to butt in, but if you told them the truth they probably wouldn’t even believe you. Some papers had reported that the elusive Mr. Stan was disinterested in dating or engagement, but usually attributed it to eccentricity or promiscuousness. What they had not discovered was that he was still hung up on his childhood love, the girl next door who had captured his heart as a boy and never given it back— not for a lack of trying.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t considered it, in fact you had returned his affections many years ago when he left to fight in the Great War. It seemed that with you and Sebastian, it was always the right person at the wrong time; and maybe, deep down, you knew that Walter had been the wrong person at the right time, but your love for him was true if forced. He didn’t make you laugh like Sebastian could, but in the end it was best that the two of you stay friends and that he finally take up any of the lovely girls vying for his affection. Maybe some were only seeking his money… okay, maybe all of them were only seeking his money, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a girl worth his time in the bunch. An ambitious man like Sebastian wouldn’t have much trouble forging a real connection with someone like the woman standing beside you know, gossiping about how secretive and handsome he was.

When the chit-chat stopped, you looked up to see what had garnered their attention… only to find Sebastian standing right beside you. “I bought this in Sicily, thinking it was an original, but I learned recently that it’s a fake,” he informed you. You furrowed your brow in confusion until he pointed forward and you realized he was referring to the statue you’d been staring at.

“Oh! Right,” you mumbled.

“I still keep it on display because as of yet, nobody else can tell the difference,” he admitted. There he was lifting that façade again, letting his guests see a glimpse of the dirty truth he usually hid away.

“What’s inspiring this openness, Sebastian?” you asked him with a nervous giggle. “Are you high on something?”

“Just your presence,” he returned with a flirtatious grin, “and a bit of opium.”

You knew he was joking, although the ladies eavesdropping nearby didn’t seem so sure. “Yes, I think an opium addiction would suit you nicely,” you rolled your eyes, “to go with all this excessiveness you indulge yourself in.”

“I think I’ll just stick with the champagne for now,” he decided. “Have you had some yet? It’s exquisite.”

“Walter went to fetch me some,” you remembered, glancing out into the crowd to see if you’d find him there looking for you.

“Oh, perfect!”

You weren’t sure what was perfect about that.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you, in private, if I can,” he explained.

That idea didn’t sit right with you. Even just speaking to him now without your fiancé nearby was a bit scandalous, but at least there were plenty of people nearby to witness to the fact that nothing especially untoward had occurred. Being truly alone with him sounded much more dangerous. “You can,” you replied solemnly, “but I can’t say that you will.”

“Please,” he whispered, just a hint of his desperation becoming apparent. You nodded and he smiled back at you, guiding you across the foyer and up the stairs. He grabbed a drink from a waiter and handed it to you as you dutifully followed him upstairs, glancing down over the banister at the merriment before he led you into his room, the sounds of the party fading to near silence behind the door as he closed it behind you.

"Do you like the party, darling?" he asked as you swallowed a gulp of champagne which tingled at the back of your throat and did less to calm your nerves than you’d hoped.

"Yes," you nodded, "your parties are always… lavish."

"It's all for you," he informed you with a gentle smile. "All this: the music, the fireworks, the champagne—" he motioned to the glass in your hand— "it's all for you."

"For… me?"

He stepped closer with a chuckle, that light little chuckle that you’d grown to understand meant ‘oh, you silly little thing.’ “Of course. Who else? I love you, darling, I’ve loved you all my life— you know that.”

“And I’m engaged to Walter,” you reminded him. “You know that, too.”

His smile faded slightly, and you saw him trying to shake that anger that was always waiting just below the surface. “Yes, I know that. I’m not stupid—”

"You must be if you think this is going to work, that I’ll leave him for you because… because what? You threw me a party?”

“I threw you a thousand parties. Every single one, it was all a show— all the dancing and the small talk, I don’t need it. It could just be the two of us, for all I care.”

“I could hardly imagine we’d finish all the booze…”

“Don’t joke with me. Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You’re funny either way; you hardly speak with me, you hardly know me, and you think you love me.”

You gasped as he stepped forward, grabbing your wrist tightly. A sharp sound made you understand that your champagne flute had fallen to the floor and shattered, but you didn’t see it because you couldn’t look away from his icy blue eyes piercing through you as they burned with rage. “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone or anything like I love you. And you’re gonna love me, too.”

Protests died in your throat as the air was knocked from your lungs when he pushed you back into the wall. He forced his lips over yours, holding the back of your neck so you couldn’t turn your face away. Your free hand beat at his chest before it, too, was pinned by the wrist while he sighed and moaned against you, pushing his tongue between your lips. A swift kick to the shin deterred him more effectively, knocking him back just enough to let you run for the door. Your fingertips just barely brushed against the cold metal of the doorknob before he grabbed you at the waist and pulled you back. “Help!” you screamed hoarsely.

“Nobody’s gonna hear you,” he laughed, pressing his chest against your back, his breath hot on your neck. “The party’s too loud.”

He spun you around quickly, leaning in for another kiss. “Walter!” you yelped, purely out of instinct, but he stopped you with a hand clamped over your mouth.

“How dare you say his name,” he hissed. “How dare you bring him into my house?”

You couldn’t answer with his strong fingers holding your mouth shut, but you could mumble indistinctly as you began to cry.

“Has he fucked you? Hm?” he interrogated coldly. Afraid of giving no answer at all, you hesitated before shaking your head. Sebastian smiled a little bit as he let his hand slip down from your face, his expression softening.

“He’s… he’s a real gentleman,” you explained weakly.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Sebastian chuckled incredulously. “Never thought you’d want someone so… traditional.”

“He treats me right,” you continued.

“That can’t be true, if he hasn’t taken you properly,” he smirked. “God, you don’t even know how good you can feel, do you? Poor girl. I have half a mind to throw you over that bed and show you right now.”

“N-no, Seba, please, you wouldn’t,” you stammered anxiously, watching his eyes drift from your own down to your lips, and your neck, and your chest. You knew the plunging neckline was a bad idea.

“You haven’t called me that since we were children. I miss that, when you still cared for me.”

“I’ve always cared for you, it’s you that pushed me away,” you reminded him. “But it’s okay, we’ll be close again, like we used to. We’ll be friends. Just… just let me go, we should go back outside… your guests are expecting you.”

“What was that game we used to play back then?” he wondered aloud, ignoring your suggestion entirely. “It was your favorite.”

“Ch-checkers?”

He grinned, more devilish than before. “No… it was ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’”

You looked away, wincing at his mocking laughter as he held you a little tighter; the back of your dress was rather low, meaning that his rough hand was stroking your exposed back which made the hairs at the nape of your neck stand up.

“Do you still remember how to play?” he purred as he spun you back and tossed you onto the bed. You tried to sit up but he was already on you, reaching under your dress to grab at your pantyhose.

“W-wait,” you whimpered, but he had already found your undergarments and begun to pull them down your thighs.

“These legs,” he growled, “god, I can’t get enough of ‘em. You know what you do to me, sweetheart?”

He answered his own question rather quickly as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to where he was kneeling on the bed— pressing the back of your thigh against the hard shape tenting his trousers. You grimaced and looked back up at the ceiling, but he grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling your face back down to look at where he was hovering over you.

“No, no, darling, don’t look away,” he cooed, “I want you to see this.”

He lifted your leg as he turned his head to the side, never breaking from your gaze as he started to kiss your skin, moving up your calves and dipping lower to reach your inner thigh. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, but you felt it sending shivers up your body as he moved closer and closer to somewhere he was very much not supposed to be. “Seba,” you whimpered, not sure what you were pleading with him for but hoping it would get through to him anyways.

He just smiled wider, letting his teeth nip the delicate skin just beneath your hips. You yelped a bit before biting down on your lip to keep quiet; you knew that if someone walked in now, you wouldn’t be able to say that he’d forced himself on you… not when you were lying back and letting him do this to you.

Just when you thought his mouth couldn’t get any closer to the part of you that was suddenly throbbing of its own accord, he pulled back and pushed up your dress even more, growling at the sight of you spread wide for him. “What a gorgeous pussy, darling.” It didn’t seem like a sign of approval though, when he brought his hand down against it with a harsh smack, forcing you to cry out and throw your head back. It hurt, at first, but then it felt so oddly good and you couldn’t explain why. When he did it again, the pain and the pleasure were even more intense than the last time, making your legs quiver a bit. “Oh, you like that,” he realized proudly. “You’re getting so wet already.”

He hit you again, and again, until you were sobbing and begging for him to stop— not just because he was hurting you, but because you knew if he didn’t stop, you would reach your peak and that could not happen under any circumstances. You couldn’t like this. If you came, he would be able to tell so easily; he was literally staring right between your legs, there was nowhere to hide from him.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” he groaned, “I need to get a taste of you.”

You, being foolish and innocent in these regards, thought he was going to kiss you again. In a way, he did; he grabbed your thighs tightly as he leaned down and latched his mouth onto your aching, swollen sex, moaning loudly as he explored you with his tongue. Your eyes shot wide open, your hands reaching down to push him away only to falter halfway through and dig into his hair instead. Between his lips, his tongue, and his teeth, it was like you couldn’t keep track of all the ways he was touching you. Each moan from him vibrated right through you, until you were moaning even louder. It was shameful, and your heart ached to know you were betraying Walter like this, but you were lost completely in the throes of pleasure that Sebastian was giving you.

Forcing your eyes shut only made the feeling more intense as your hands tightened into fists, gathering the satin-y through beneath you in your clammy palms. But opening your eyes and looking back at him wasn’t much help either, with the way he was staring back at you so intensely. You’d never seen his eyes so dark before, not in all the years you’d known him, and it made your skin crawl.

He stopped briefly to catch his breath, his prideful smile glistening with your arousal; it was awfully lewd, and you hated how attractive he looked all disheveled and hungry like this.

“You really ought to be spoiled,” he decided, his voice deeper and rougher around the edges. “It’s a waste if nobody’s making you come like this every day, getting a taste of this sweet little cunt.”

That word made you wince, and you realized you were more offended by what he was saying than what he was doing, oddly enough.

He got back to it with more vigor than before, pushing his tongue into you as you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming. How could something so wrong feel so thoroughly right, so perfect? You hated him just as much as you loved him in that moment, and you wanted him to stop just as much as you wanted him to keep going. The tricky thing was that you didn’t get to decide if you loved or hated him, or he stopped or continued. Your body and mind were his playthings, pliable to whatever he wanted to take from you.

Apparently, he wanted to take more from you; when he had pushed you to your peak against your wishes, and done so much more easily than you would’ve liked to admit, he sat back and tossed away his jacket, freeing him to shirk his suspenders and unbutton his trousers.

“N-no, Seba, you can’t—” you whimpered mindlessly, attempting to crawl back away from him on the bed.

“You’ll let me devour you until you come, but don’t want me to get mine, too?” he grinned. “Greedy little girl.”

He grabbed you and pulled you back down into him, gripping the neckline of your dress and tearing it down the front in a few quick rips. You fought back but it was laughably useless, your strength nothing against his.

“I hate when you wear things like this— things he bought you,” he explained with a snarl. “These pearls, too, he got you these, right?”

There wasn’t even time to answer before he grabbed the string and snapped it, sending the pearls flying everywhere and rolling across the floor. You felt more naked without them than you did without the dress. Still, you felt especially naked when he pressed his hips forward and his length slid through your folds. “No,” you sighed, “no— stop, it’s not funny anymore.”

“Funny?” he grimaced. You yelped when he grabbed your jaw tightly, forcing you to look back up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I love you. You hear me? I love you.”

“I know,” you sighed shakily.

“Say it back,” he demanded. “Say you love me, too.”

“I can’t,” you shuddered, crying when he released your jaw to slap you harshly across the face.

“I’m sorry that I had to do that,” he sighed. “I don’t think it’s right for a man to strike a woman, even if it’s with an open hand, but you need to get some sense into you. I know you love me, darling. You just need to say it.”

That false impression of mercy faded quickly when you only responded with silence.

“Say it!” he yelled, dripping with rage.

“I love you!” you finally cried, and he made swift work of reaching down to push his cock right up against your entrance, driving forward with brutal force. Your back arched and your head fell back, your hands gripping at his half-buttoned shirt— some kind of silent plea that he slow down a bit, perhaps. It didn’t seem to work, each thrust deeper and faster than the last already. The only sounds now were his quickening breaths right beside your ear, his skin slapping against yours, and your weak little cries that you choked out each time he pushed himself all the way into you.

It stung and burned inside you, just like your eyes stung with fresh tears and your chest burned with some incomprehensible storm of emotions. You wouldn’t call anything about this a relief, and yet there was something cathartic about it as well.

“He’s not gonna want you once he knows what I’ve done to you,” he whispered in your ear, tickling your leg as he pulled it to wrap around his waist. “Once he knows I’ve taken your innocence, made you mine.”

You whimpered as sobs made your chest convulse, but said nothing; you knew he was right.

“He’s not gonna want you once I’ve knocked you up. Nobody will… but me.”

You started to struggle underneath him, pushing at his shoulders helplessly. “No, you can’t— you have to stop.”

“You’ll make such a beautiful bride, darling, especially if you’re already showing,” he grinned, bringing his hand to rest just below your bellybutton— just over your womb. “I’ve dreamed all my life that you’d carry my child,” he admitted wistfully.

Crying did more to egg him on than anything, it seemed, as you barely managed to speak enough to plead with him not to finish inside you. Maybe you were naïve, but not so much that you didn't know how easily you could become pregnant if he didn't pull out, or how quickly your engagement would be broken off and your reputation ruined if that happened.

He ignored your denial and moved faster, running his hands all over your body with a few brief detours to grope your breasts and pinch the hardened nipples.

As his lips attached to your neck, you felt his teeth sink into your skin as he sucked just by your pulse. “Don’t,” you whimpered, “you’ll leave a mark.”

“Good,” he mumbled, breaking away from his work at your neck to teasingly nibble on your ear. “It’s no trouble to me if everyone knows what I’ve done to you. I want them to know. Don’t you think they saw us come into my room? Maybe if you moan loud enough they’ll get to hear you coming for me.”

It should’ve made you try even harder to stay quiet— and it did, it just didn’t work at all, and soon your moans were echoing around the room as he smiled down at you. “Close again, already? You’re so sweet for me,” he praised, somehow angling his hips just right to hit the most sensitive places inside you, your walls rippling and convulsing around him.

“You have t-to stop,” you breathed, holding the waves of pleasure back with everything you had.

“I can’t,” he groaned, “you feel too good. It’s okay, darling, just let go…”

He continued with a string of whispered praises, but you couldn’t hear it anymore as your body began to erupt in jolts of pleasure, your arms and legs shaking uncontrollably where they were wrapped around his neck and hips, respectively.

“Keep going,” he encouraged gently, “you sound so beautiful when you come, darling.”

But the sensation threatened to consume you, burned you from the inside out until you couldn’t take anymore. It was overwhelming to the point that you lost all control over your words, needing this to end more than you needed to preserve any dignity you had left. “Please,” you sighed, “please come, Sebastian…”

He laughed a bit, kissing your ear again. “Sweet girl, I knew you’d come around. Want it inside, darling?”

You shook your head, he laughed again.

“Yes you do,” he sing-songed condescendingly, “you want to have my baby, don’t you? Wanna leave that awful man and be with me, like you should?”

He must’ve known there was only one way to get you to agree to that.

“Remember, darling,” he whispered, “it won’t end until you say yes.”

“Yes,” you choked out, “I want to be with you, Seba, I want your baby— just please come and get off of me.”

He grinned and fucked you faster, the slapping of skin so loud now that surely anyone in the hall would hear it. His own moans were quiet but desperate, breathless as he started to pump and flex inside you, his warmth coating your insides as he groaned your name weakly. He laid on top of you, motionless, for quite some time until finally sitting up and pulling out; unfortunately, you were too weak to do much with that freedom, just laying there and staring up at the ceiling as numbness chilled your extremities and fogged your mind.

“You just stay here and catch your breath,” he instructed gently as he gave you one last kiss before sitting up, readjusting his trousers and suspenders before finding his jacket on the floor to put back on. He circled the bed to look out his window into the gardens, seeming much too relaxed and satisfied with himself.

“W-Walter,” you remembered suddenly. “He’ll be looking for me.”

“Hm, doesn’t seem like it,” Sebastian frowned, “I can see him now, having quite the conversation with a fine young woman.”

“What?” you shivered, sitting up to look at him as he stared down into the yard.

“I’m looking right at him, darling. I figured you knew about his… reputation…”

You did, but you never really believed it; the papers lied about Sebastian all the time, so surely rumors about your fiancé could be just as unfounded.

“I need to go,” you decided as you jumped up off the bed, trying to cover yourself with your torn dress.

“Sweetheart,” Sebastian cooed sympathetically as he looked back at you, “where are you gonna go dressed like that? Or, should I say, not dressed like that? I know my parties can get a little wild, but we try not to have any nudity.”

You hated that he was right; you were trapped here, until you found some way to dress yourself. And frankly, leaving his room dressed in different clothes than when you came in was nearly as bad as leaving his room naked.

“I’ll get you something to wear, just give me a moment, alright?” he offered, stopping to give you a peck on the forehead before slipping out of the door and back into the party.

He took a deep breath when he shut the door behind him, closing his eyes briefly to stabilize himself before putting on a smile and rejoining his guests. A lot of people tried to stop him on his way, congratulated him on the party or asking him mundane questions, but he shrugged them all off as he continued his search for Walter Penner. He found him looking rather lost somewhere by the west wing of the house, a drink in each hand.

“Two at a time, I like your style,” Sebastian boomed as he patted Walter on the back affectionately. “The drinks, I mean. I don’t believe everything I read in the papers.”

“Good,” Walter chuckled, “because it isn’t true— about girls or drinks. The second glass is for my lovely fiancée— you haven’t seen her, have you?”

“Oh, I believe I have,” Sebastian put on a face like he was thinking about where he’d last seen her. “She was just leaving.”

“Leaving?!” Walter pshawed.

“Yes, she said she’d forgotten something she had to do and scurried out the door. I tried to stop her, but you know how she is when she gets her mind on something.”

“Hm,” Walter frowned. “I suppose I’m meant to go looking for her.”

“Take a coat, it’s cold out there,” Sebastian offered. “And if you see her, do tell her I give her my best.”

“Always,” Walter nodded, setting his drinks down and merging back into the crowd as he navigated out of the party. Sebastian hummed a little tune to himself as he made his way back to his room; he could hardly wait to see you again already, tell you all about how your unfaithful betrothed had run off with one of his more promiscuous friends, but he had to be careful not to run too fast on his bad leg. He figured you wouldn’t believe it, truly, but you’d give in to the story anyways if it was reason enough to justify your affair with him. You had a talent for accepting whatever reality served your purposes best, and he was happy to give you whatever you wanted. He figured you’d want an extravagant wedding, too; that would be easy enough.

Ascending the stairs and resting his hand on the knob to open his door, he braced himself to see you there and finally know you were his— and only his, forever. All he’d ever wanted, just on the other side of a door. If a poor boy can become a millionaire in spite of everything, and he can finally get his girl in spite of a pesky engagement, then maybe anything’s possible. It was you that had told him since he was a boy that dreams were just dreams and couldn’t come true; such a fool you were, a beautiful little fool— the best thing a girl can be, and now that you were his girl, he intended to cherish your foolishness rather than attempt to educate you. Because truthfully, you were a smart girl, and only a fool for him.

#sebastian stan x reader #dark!sebastian stan x reader #dark!sebastian stan #dark!sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan dark fic

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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masquerade (part 2) (d.m.)

prompt: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect...

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood reader

warnings: language, underage drinking, mild sexual tension and content (nothing crazy...yet)

word count: 9.4k

author note: if you would like to be added to the masquerade taglist, fill out this form please!

Two days since the ball. It was two days since the night that changed the course of your life as dramatic as it sounded. But rather than dwell on the fact that your prospective suitor was your sworn enemy, you decided to pretend like nothing happened and continued to move on with your life and try to enjoy the rest of the break.

You had already cried all of your tears over this the night you came back from the ball. When the door had shut behind you, you let all the tears fall and the sobs rake through your body. You weren’t upset, you were frustrated. You were mad at yourself that you didn’t see this coming. Of course, with your luck, on one of the most important nights of your life, you end up connecting with the person you despise the most. Draco had fooled you into believing he was someone he was not. He had tricked you like he had done so many times before; this was just a part of his grand plan, wasn’t it? He just wanted to throw you off track. In a way, you thought it was better you than some innocent other person who didn’t know how sinister he truly was.

But again, rather than dwell on the unfortunate situation, you just moved on. If you pretended like it didn’t happen, then no one who didn’t know of the situation didn’t need to. But this didn’t stop your parents from begging you to tell them what was going on.

There you at in front of the fireplace like you usually were when you were at home, curled up with your book, trying to distract yourself with the words on the parchment rather than the thoughts that circled inside your head. The fire crackled beside you as you sighed, closing your book gently, giving into the thoughts that plagued your head. The largest one being how will he react when you see each other again at school?

Avoiding Draco at school would be quite literally impossible. You were both in the same house, the same year, with the same class schedule. Not to mention, you were both prefects, so you spent too much time together. It was going to be a challenge to avoid him at all costs, but you have never met a challenge you couldn’t conquer.

Before you could open your book up again, your mother stood next to the fireplace, looking at you with worried eyes. “Darling, you haven’t spoken about the ball since it happened,” she tells you as you look away from her gaze and to the roaring fire. The roaring fire was exactly how you felt on the inside. You were in flames; furious at yourself, at Draco, at your parents for making you go. The fire inside you was relentless. “(Y/N),” your mother says, grabbing your attention. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Her eyes were begging you to let her in. You wanted to cry in her arms and tell her how you starting falling for an illusion. The fear of being in love with someone you hated for years lived in your chest and mind, making breathing feel tight. But a part of you feared that once you confided in her, she would realize that you had made a connection with another pureblood, powerful wizard. Your family would better from an engagement and eventually a marriage. The thought made your stomach sick and head reel. Bloody hell, Lottie.

You shake your head, “I would rather not talk about it, Mother. I can assure you that I am fine. Just a...misunderstanding...at the ball. That’s all.” You play with the pages of your book as you nervously fidgeted. You knew your mother didn’t buy your excuse, but instead of urging you further she gave you sad look. She hated seeing you upset. Especially if she knows she can help you. “Besides, the ball is over. I’m going back to school soon and I have to prepare for my N.E.W.T.s now if I want to do well.”

Your mother sighs and walks closer to you, kneeling next to you on the floor. “(Y/N),” she breathes. “Whatever happened at the ball that made you upset, I know you will overcome it. But please, if you need someone to talk to, I am here. Always,” she smiles at you.

With a sad smile back, you quietly thank your mother before she rises and makes her way into the kitchen. You stare into the fire, thinking about how things would change when you got back to Hogwarts. Even though your feelings towards Draco remained unchanged, you can’t help but think about how he was feeling about you. Did this only intensify the rivalry between you two? Did he tell anyone about your dance and almost kiss? Were you compromised?

You pushed the thoughts away again before tucking back into your book, fire crackling away until it was just dusty ashes.

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

Winter break was over and the students of Hogwarts had returned. Everyone feeling refreshed from the break with new energy greeted each other in the halls with smiles and embraces, updating friends on the time away they spent from each other.

As you walked into the Slytherin common room, returning from home, you were greeted with a cheer of girlish screams as your friends all ran to embrace you. You giggled as Daphne wrapped her arms tightly around you, rocking you back and forth before Pansy pushed her off to hug you. “Merlin, I feel like it’s been months since we’ve seen each other,” she hugs as you rub her back.

Being back with your friends, you felt grounded. You had recharged back home and now you were with your closest friends who understood you better than anyone else. Well, besides your mother. The one thing was you didn’t know whether or not you wanted to tell them about the masquerade ball. For starters, it was a touchy subject for you given the circumstances. But also, no matter how close you and Pansy were, she definitely was a gossip compared to Daphne. You were scared that if you told them, it would get around to the school like a wildfire. That would surely be talk of the school.

Daphne dragged you to one of the leather couches in the common room before plopping down next to you, she spoke, “There’s so much to catch up on. I don’t even know where to start...”

You laughed and leaned back into the couch, allowing yourself to relax. But as you did so, the tension flew back into your shoulders and your stomach started to churn. Your head felt like your brain was two sizes too big for your skull, reeling. Your palms started to sweat and your mouth ran dry, heart thumping against your chest.

When you turned away for that split second, you saw him. He walked down from the boy’s dormitory. Zabini had an arm wrapped around his shoulder as they both laughed. Draco jokingly punched Zabini’s side as he laughed. It was like you were watching him in slow motion. His white blonde hair flopped over his forehead as he brushed his fingers through it, calmly and cooly like he always did. His pink lips turned up into a bright smile. And his eyes...how could you forget those eyes. The image of his eyes is something that will be seared in your memory forever. Those grey blue icy eyes of his that could melt you if you let him. But you refused.

As he came out into the common room, his eyes landed on you and your heart stopped. Your eyes staring into his and his into yours. Your brain was on overdrive, too many thoughts screaming in your head as you felt your stomach do flips. You kept telling yourself to look away, but for some reason you couldn’t pull yourself away from his gaze. It was a trance.

Draco quite literally stopped when he saw you sitting on the couch, happy eyes and sweet smile as you were surrounded by your posse. Normally when he saw you, his blood would boil and his adrenaline would start pumping. That all happened again when he saw you, but this time his heart sunk to his stomach. It felt like he shouldn’t be looking at you after what happened at the masquerade ball. The small intimacies you shared with each other, none physical, but you had a connection. It was undeniable. Something happened that night that changed the both of you. But he, and you, were unsure if it was something to follow.

Although the gazes at each other only lasted for maximum of five seconds, it felt like forever. You pulled away first, looking back at Daphne, before you felt a heat rush to your cheeks. You took a deep breath in to calm yourself.

Daphne noticed your physical change and furrowed her brow. She knew something was up. Looking around the room, she finally spotted what caused this. “Ah,” she laughs. “Rivals are well rested after a long break and are back and ready for the next challenge I see,” she teases you as you scoff.

The thing about Daphne was she was friends with both you and Draco. You claimed that Daphne was your friend first, but she says she became friends with you at the same time as she became friends with Draco. Daphne didn’t love the idea of two of her closest friends hating each other, but she dealt with it and tried to remain neutral territory when it came to you two. You knew it was hard for her, but you appreciated her efforts.

“I have to stay on my toes if I want to be number one, Daph,” you tell her as you keep your eyes locked on her, Draco and Blaise passing you. You watched them out of your periphery and you knew that Draco was watching you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to watch the other; you were rivals. You would always steal menacing glances or an eye roll or a glare. But when it happened this time around, things felt different. There was something else this time. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but there was something there that wasn’t there before. “Anyway,” you breathe. “Are you going to tell me how your break was or are you going to sit there?” you slap Pansy’s leg.

The two girls exchange about their breaks, letting each other know what gifts they received for the holidays and what fun plans they had. You prayed it wouldn’t come up, but it was inevitable. The three of you all came from pureblood Slytherin families. Your families were all invited to the ball and were all in attendance. And so it came up. “Onto more important things,” Pansy smirks. “(Y/N), after midnight, Daphne and I were searching everywhere for you but we couldn’t find you. Where did you go? I thought you told us that you were going?”

You gulp. Oh, Merlin. How should you approach this? “Yeah, I was there,” you tell them. “I just left right after the reveal. My mother wasn’t feeling too well and father wanted to get her home before it got too late. That’s why you didn’t see me,” you explain, wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt. “But did you two find any matches? Anyone catch your eyes?” you divert the attention off of you and onto them. “I thought I saw you, Pans, talking to that Scottish brute,” you wiggled your eyebrows as Daphne teasingly oooohs.

Pansy blushes, “You mean Jamie?” You and Daphne mockingly fan yourselves and repeat his name loudly as Pansy’s cheeks turns a deep red shade. “Oh, stop it, would you?” she exclaims. “He’s very nice. He’s older than us, but a pureblood nonetheless. My parents are quite fond of him.”

Smiling at your friend, you squeeze her hand. “That’s great, Pans. I’m so happy for you. You deserve every happiness,” you tell her and she smiles. “What about you, Daph? Anyone?”

She rolls her eyes, “Bloody hell no. Every bloke I danced with got worse and worse.” You laugh. “My parents were disappointed that I didn’t find anyone, but I guess there’s always next year? Besides, I’m not in any rush to find someone.” She leans back into the couch. “You know who I am curious about though,” she speaks in a hushed tone. Pansy leans forward, excited to receive new gossip. “I saw Malfoy dancing with a bird at the ball. She looked lovely. No clue who she is though. But Draco told me that he had a great night with her, but he doesn’t think anything will come of it.”

Your heart stops. So Draco did tell people about the dance. He told people of you. Well, not you, but your masked you. He had a great night with you? The thought made your heart flutter. Before you realized his identity, you were swooning over him. The night was seemingly perfect, dare you say, before the identity reveals. You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about the ball and how Draco held the small of your back as you waltzed across the ballroom to the beautiful swelling orchestra. How he plucked the rose off the bush and handed it to you with a kind smile. The way he took your chin in between his fingers, titling up gaze up to his. The gesture made your heart thud and you sigh. It was like a fairytale. But it all came crashing down at the stroke of midnight in classic fairytale fashion. There’s always a twist for the princess. How come?

Snapping yourself out of your daydream, you say, “I feel sorry for the poor girl. Malfoy probably crushed her feet under his big, fat ones.” This makes Pansy giggle and Daphne roll her eyes. “Seriously,” you smile. “The stupid git hates dancing, you know he stepped on her toes at least twice!”

Daphne furrows her brows as she lightly laughs, “How did you know he hates dancing?”

Shit.

You have to think quickly. Draco told you he hated dancing when you were at the ball, dancing together. “What idiot boy doesn’t hate slow dancing?” you reply plainly. It was true, most of them did. Daphne shrugs, buying it before returning to a conversation that Pansy was having with her about Jamie.

You relaxed back into the couch, tuning out their conversation and entering your own thoughts. So Draco told Daphne he didn’t want to pursue things with you or the “mystery girl.” That made things easier now, didn’t it? You didn’t have to decide for the both of you. But in a way, you were a little disappointed which surprised you. Even though you would rather hex yourself than be in a relationship with Draco, why didn’t he want to? Was there something unappealing about you? Was it something you said?

The more you sat and thought about it, the more upset you got about it. Why were you upset? You shook your head and thought to yourself, Get your priorities straight, (Y/N). It was one night and it was a mistake. You both realized that. Now get a grip and get to work.

“Alright, enough of that,” you huff, standing up from the couch. “It’s about time I resume my usual position in the library,” you brush off your skirt and grab your bag.

Daphne groans, “Already? (Y/N), we literally just got back and you want to go study now?” You nod your head. “Come on, five more minutes to catch up. We have the rest of the term to study and be cooped up in the library. Let’s just hang out tonight,” she tries to reason with you as Pansy pulls on your arm, trying to get you to sit again.

You laugh at your friends’ antics. You did love being around them and spending time with them, but you couldn’t help but think about how you needed to be two steps in front of the rest of your classmates. Especially Draco. “Tempting as it sounds, excellence waits for no one, girls,” you tell him as they roll their eyes. “Oh come on, it’s not like I won’t see you! We’re all bloody roommates!” you reason with them. “I’ll see you later.”

The three of you blow kisses to each other before you walk out of the common room and down the halls to the library. As you walked, you had a pep in your step. Maybe this masquerade encounter with Draco was exactly what you needed in a weird way. It was just another reason to prove to Draco that you are and will always be better than him. He couldn’t have you as a partner or as a classmate. You will always be on top of him. Wait, no. On top. Geez.

This term was the term you were really going to prove to Draco and to the rest of the school that this rivalry was over. You had won. You were going to be better than him in classes, in grades, in your N.E.W.T.s. Everything. You were going to prove to him that you had it all; the brains, the nerve, the confidence, and the looks. And he couldn’t have you with or with out some stupid black silk mask.

You entered the library and smiled. The Hogwarts library was like home. You have fond memories and not so fond memories from your previous years. Late night study sessions, snack breaks, laughing in the stacks with friends, nervously cramming for a quiz that slipped your mind, pulling at the roots of your hair trying to find the answer to a question, crying over how stressed you were, but eventually Daphne coming into the library with a snack from the kitchen to comfort you. The library was host of so many core memories for you. It made you feel excited, nervous, stressed, and everything in between.

As you walked to your usual table, you placed down your books and journals and looked at your organized schedule. You ran your finger down the page, looking for the titles of the books that you need to grab for this session.

Walking through the stacks made you smile. It reminded you of when you were a first year student, so small in stature as you would look up at the shelves a think about how tall they were. Now, taller you laugh at the thought. It was loopy to think that it was your last year at Hogwarts before you graduated. This place was home for seven years. It was your happy place and you had to say goodbye. You didn’t know how you could say goodbye to something so special, so near and dear to your heart. It would certainly not be easy, but you didn’t need to think about that. You still had a whole term ahead of you.

Plucking books off of their shelves as you spotted them, you continued to weave your way through stacks. As you turned down one, you scanned the shelves for one book in particular. You let your fingers trace the spines of the books as you looked for it. Finally, there it was on the shelf as you smiled. But as you grabbed for it, another pair of hands grabbed it too.

As you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened. The two of you redacted your hands from the book as they touched each other. Draco’s eyes stared into yours as you stared right back. Your heart beat against your chest hard, thumping. It didn’t take you long to snap yourself out of it and realize who exactly this boy was. With a scoff, you reach for the book again, him going back for it as well. “Give it to me, Malfoy,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’m sure you can look along with Crabbe and Goyle. Certain they make excellent study partners,” you sneer.

Draco rolls his eyes, “I need my own copy.”

You pull on the book so it’s in your hands. “Too bad this is the last one and I need it. So screw your own copy and look along with your study buddies,” you try to walk away.

Before you take one step away, you feel his hands grab the book. But instead of ripping it out of your hands, he tugs on it which makes you spin back and crash into his chest. You land with a little oof and then you realize the position you are in. Chests pressed up against each other, faces inches away. Before you can process what’s going on, he steals the book from your hands with a smirk. “How about you go find someone who cares that it’s the last copy?” he speaks taking three steps back.

You groan and lunge for the book as he holds it above his head, arm extended. Malfoy chuckles as you jump for the book. Then you think. Work smarter, not harder. With a smirk, you lift up your foot and stomp on Draco's shiny leather loafer. He groans in pain, dropping the book as you scoop it up.

You contently smile and walk the other way down the stacks. You walk quickly away from Draco as you hear his approaching footsteps. You duck into another stack towards the back of the library. “Not so fast, (Y/L/N),” he speaks as you dart down the stacks, trying to get away from him.

Suddenly, there’s a dead end. You are face to face with a wall. “Shit,” you huff as you flip around, face to face with Draco now, feet apart.

He stands there with a shit eating smirk on his face. “Give me the book,” he speaks simply.

“Make me,” you bite back. You see Draco swallow hard before taking slow steps towards you. Your eyes widen, not knowing what the hell he was going to do. You don’t take a step backward. You were going to stand your ground. Poor boy wanted his own book? He could cry about it for all you could care. You needed this book meanwhile two other guys at his table had the book and he could look on with them.

As he approaches, you take a step to the left and he mimics your movements. Step to the right. Step back to the left. You laugh, “I thought you hated dancing, Malfoy.” This makes him clam up as you bring up the statement he had told you at the masquerade ball before you had removed your masks and revealed yourselves to each other. He gulps hard as you laugh at how he reacts. “Oh, wait, right, I forgot,” you smile walking over to him with a smirk on your lips, eyes burning into his icy ones, melting him under your gaze. You lean in and whisper in his ear as seductively as you can, “I made dancing more tolerable for you, don’t I?”

Pulling away, you watch Draco’s face. His jaw is locked and his eyes are fixated on yours. You watch as his pupils dilate, making his eyes darker. You feel your heart rate accelerate as you lightly gulp, eyes darting between his eyes and his lips. Your mind is screaming for you to get out of there and finish your work, what you came here to do. But your feet are glued to the ground.

Within seconds, you feel Draco’s hand on yours that holds the book. And then all of a sudden, you are pushed up agains the bookcase, your spine pressing into the spines of books. You gasp as he does so, a hint of a smile on his lips as you do so. You are frozen. Draco takes your hand that holds the book and pins it above your head with one of his. Your eyes don’t leave his, staring into them.

As you stare at him, the memories of the ball flood your mind. How his eyes stared so intensely into yours as you danced. How his eyes squinted when he laughed at your jokes. How his hand held yours in his so tenderly as if to not break it. How his skin felt when he brushed your cheek in the garden. How just a look could make your heart race, blood boil, stomach churn, and head reel. How could one boy make you feel all of this.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he plucks the book out of your hand with one swift motion, eyes still glued to yours. With his other hand, he allows a finger to trace down your palm and down your forearm before brushing your cheek. “I only danced with you,” he whispers hot against your face, inches away from each other. “Don’t let that go to your head. Lots of girls would kill to be in your position,” he speaks as he looks at how he has you, pushed up against the bookcase, right where he wants you. Your body pressed up against the bookshelf, his body close to yours, hips just grazing each other. “The book is mine, darling. Maybe when Crabbe is done, you can have his.”

And with that, he leaves down the stacks, disappearing back to his table. You are left there, panting and breathless, hand still above your head. Slowly, you peel yourself off from the bookcase and just try to process what the hell just happened. “Bloody fucking prick,” you growl to yourself as you walk down the stacks.

It was one thing when you brought up the ball to him in that manner. It was harmless. Tame. But what he did? That was uncalled for. That was...

No, no, that was wrong. You were not going to let Draco Malfoy get away with that. Absolutely not. You straighten out your skirt and walk back to where Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy all sit in the library. Draco looks up from his book and sees you walking over. He shakes his head with a smirk as you glare at him. “If you can’t look along with one of these numbskulls,” you speak as you grab Goyle’s book, “then maybe they can look along with you. Happy studying, boys.” You smile to Crabbe and Goyle who are very confused as Draco rolls his eyes.

You turn around and walk to your table, knowing damn well that their eyes are watching you walk away. You smirk to yourself, knowing that Malfoy is burning holes into the back of your head. But you let him look.

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

After studying for some time in the library, you make your way back to your dormitory, yawning. The day was definitely long with your traveling back to school, unpacking, seeing your friends, studying, your little interaction with Draco...

You make your way up the stairs, dragging your feet behind you as lug your bag up the stairs and to your room. You push the door open to be greeted by Pansy and Daphne who sit on Daphne’s bed, chatting and laughing, eating some sweets from Honeydukes. “Look whose decided to join the party!” Pansy exclaims as you yawn. “Don’t tell me you’re going to bed. (Y/N), come on!”

You start taking off your uniform and change into your comfortable pajama pants and a old, oversized t-shirt. “I’ll stay up a little while longer,” you smile at Pansy who claps her hands. You walk over to Daphne’s bed and plop down on it. Pansy pulls you into her lap as she plays with your hair before asking if she can braid it as you nod.

Daphne smiles, “How much studying did you get done?”

Sighing, you think. “I finished the assignments for this week’s classes. But none of the write ups yet. I studied for DADA and Potions, but not much else. Some light work,” you shrug.

Pansy cackles. “Light work?” she exclaims. “What you do in one night is what I do in two weeks!”

The three of you laugh as you lay on the bed, enjoying each other’s company. “But I wanna know how everyone’s day was,” you insist before an idea pops into your head. You sit up to look at your two friends. “I learned something recently. Let’s do Rose, Bud, Thorn!” you exclaim as Pansy furrows her brows and Daphne tilts her head. “You tell everyone a good part about your day, a bad part, and something that you are looking forward to. I’ll start so you get the gist,” you smile as your friends shake their heads at your excitement. “So my Rose was getting to see you guys again after break,” you beam as Pansy squeezes your arm. “My thorn...” you think before the library flashes in your mind and how Draco pushed you up against the bookcase plays over in your head. Not necessarily a thorn, but definitely unexpected...You snap yourself out and clear your throat. “...was seeing Malfoy in the library as I was trying to have an enjoyable night...and my bud is getting back to normal tomorrow! Daph, you’re next.”

She rolls her eyes. “Only you would be excited over starting classes again,” she huffs as you shrug. “Okay...my rose was getting this huge box of sweets from my parents whilst you were in the library,” she laughs as you look at the enormous box. “My thorn is the stomach ache that I’m getting for eating too many chocolate frogs,” she confesses. “And my bud is getting a goodnights sleep. Pans?”

Pansy sighs, “Okay, well, my rose...” she giggles. “...I just got an owl from Jamie not too long ago with a letter from him.” You and Daphne oooh as Pansy blushes. “And my bud is getting to read it in the privacy of an empty common room after curfew,” she laughs as she gets off the bed and makes her way to the door.

“But what about your thorn!” Daphne calls out as Pansy opens the door.

Pansy calls back, “I don’t have one! I’ll be back up soon!”

You and Daphne just took at each other and shake your heads at Pansy. “She’s ridiculous,” you chuckle. “But I’m happy that she found someone at the ball that she cares for,” you tell Daphne as you play with the hem of your shirt. If only the same came to you.

Daphne looks at you in the eyes, knowingly and raises her brow. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at why she was making this face. This face was reserved for when Daphne was calling you out on something or calling your bluff. But you were serious. You were happy for Pansy, how could you not be? She had always been pining over guys and you were happy that she had found someone. “What?” you laugh nervously. “Why are you giving me that look?” She looks at you again, waiting for you to confess to something you did know. “Daph, I’m clueless. What’s up?”

She sighs and speaks plainly. “I know you were at the ball, (Y/N), and I know you danced with Draco.”

Your heart stops and your eyes widen. You open your mouth to say something, to defend yourself, but you can’t. You just stutter a little bit before sighing. Daphne gives you a sympathetic smile. “How?” you ask.

“My mother saw you at the ball with your parents just before you left. She said you were wearing your mother’s mask from when she met your father,” she smiles at you as you sigh, defeated. People were bound to figure it out soon enough and you were glad that Daphne was first to know. She would take this to the grave. “Besides that, the common room this morning, you two staring at each other, you knowing that he hates dancing, and then just now. The only other person I know who plays Rose, Bud, Thorn is Draco. He taught you, didn’t he?” she asks as you nod. She smiles sweetly. “Your secret is safe with me,” she tells you as let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in as you squeeze her hand, silently thanking her. “But...maybe this was a good thing, (Y/N). Maybe it was another force letting you know that this might be a good partnership for you rather than a rivalry.”

Her words make you freeze and shut down. A good thing? The only good thing that came of this was more motivation to defeat Draco in every task. “Daph, we’ve been enemies since I stepped foot into Hogwarts. Our families have been rivals since the dawn of time. If anything, it’s illogical. It wouldn’t make sense for the two of us to be together. It would simply add wood to the fire,” you defend. It proposition for you and Draco to be together was preposterous. You couldn’t believe what Daphne was suggesting.

Daphne sighed, knowing that the suggestion was silly, but it was worth a shot. Love was not in the cards with you both regardless if you felt something that night at the ball. And in the library...it was beside the point. Draco was someone that you never wished to associate yourself with. The ball was a slip-up, a mistake, an accident. Nothing would ever happen between you two. You were going to make sure of it.

Daphne gives you a sad smile. “I understand,” she spoke. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

“It’s not your fault, Daphne,” you squeeze her hands. “I know it’s difficult being friends with both Draco and I sometimes, but you have to know how much I appreciate you always being there for me.”

Daphne says, “Of course, (Y/N). You’ve always been there for me and it’s only right that I do the same.”

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

As you pack your things to leave Defense Against the Dark Arts, you start to think about all of the work you needed to start in the library. Book to read, notes to take, study guides to prepare. You groaned at the thought of the amount of work you had to, and on a Friday of all days. You knew that a party was bound to happen tonight in one of the common rooms. It was the first Friday of the term since the break and people wanted a way to relax. A party is just what everyone needed. It was just a matter of who was going to throw it.

You walk out of the classroom as Pansy links her arms with you and Daphne as she sing-songs, “Friday night!” You shake your head as Daphne laughs. “First night out since first term, we have to go to a party tonight. No excuses, no options.”

Pansy looks at you as she says the last words, knowing that you would fabricate some excuse to get out of the party and use the time to study. You didn’t study every weekend, but when you saw the opportunity to get ahead, you took it. Yes, it did mean that you missed out on some absolute bangers of parties, but in the end, you convinced yourself that it was worth it since you were one of the brightest in your class.

“I’ve got a lot of work on my plate, Pansy, I don’t know if a party is in the cards for me tonight,” you shrug as Pansy throws her head back and groans.

Daphne leans over to look at you as you walk. “Can’t you push it off until tomorrow? It’s the first weekend of term. Surely you want to celebrate with us?” she shimmies her shoulders.

But before you can open up your mouth to speak, you are spoken for. A voice speaks from behind you and the moment you hear it you know it’s him. Who else. “No, (Y/N) has too much parchment up her ass to have fun. She’ll spend her night alone in the library like she usually does,” Draco spits as you flip around in the middle of the hallway.

When your eyes meet, you glare at him, burning into his as his eyes stare back at you. He smirks as he walks towards you and your friends, you folding your arms in front of your chest. You knew that the library incident from earlier this week only put fuel on the fire. He was doing this to push your buttons. It was certainly working, but you weren’t going to let him know that.

You take a step forward and suck on your teeth as Draco approaches. “Oh, pardon me, I forgot. I actually get good marks because I work hard. Not because my daddy scares the professors into giving me good ones,” you retort as Draco scoffs. “It’s called work ethic.”

Draco is quick to jump on a comeback, saying, “No, darling, it’s called being uptight.” Your stomach churns at the nickname he used, reminding you of when he first called you that at the ball. You taste bile in your mouth as you gulp it down. “I will bet that I you will be in that library until the wee hours of the morning. Won’t you? Instead of having fun or getting laid like the rest of us, you’ll be cooped up with a silly book, probably next to Granger. What a match you two are. Too pathetic to have fun.”

His words made your skin crawl with rage and your fist tighten. You wanted to smack the smug smile on his face as Crabbe and Goyle chuckle behind him. You wanted to scream about how disgusting and vile he was, how the sight of him made you want to vomit. You feel Daphne pull on your arm, telling you to go, but you ignore her. “The only thing that’s pathetic is your lack of ability to find a poor girl who actually wants to be around you,” you speak through gritted teeth.

This one stung. And you knew it did. Draco’s eyes lightly widened as you delivered the blow as you let out a breathy chuckle at his reaction. You knew it was cold, but it’s what he deserved. Draco was a beast and you knew exactly what to do to tame him. But you weren’t done. You weren’t going to let yourself be embarrassed in front of your housemates and other on looking students.

Taking one more step further, you speak, “And actually, maybe I won’t find myself in the library tonight. Maybe...” you look at Daphne and Pansy with a little smile dancing on your lips, “...I’ll be the one to the throw tonight’s party. Slytherin common room. I’ll get it all ready and inform people. Fifth years and up only. I don’t want any children. So, unfortunately, Draco that rules you out.”

With a swift turn, you walk back to Pansy and Daphne who wear proud smiles on their faces. Before Draco can protest, you start to strut down the hall, not caring a bit about what he had to say. If Draco thought that you were too uptight to have fun, you were going to prove him wrong. He thought he could have more fun than you could? Yeah, right.

But what if that was his plan? To get you distracted from your studies. So you didn’t do work tonight and that threw you off for the rest of the week. Was it all part of some elaborate scheme? He was sneaky like that. But it was too late. You had already said you would host the party which meant finding music, getting food and drinks, and making sure people knew about the party and the password to enter the common room.

Oh, tonight would be interesting.

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

You are frantically pacing in your room, checklist in hand as you tick things off. You tick off guest list and sharing the password to the common room. You tick off food. You and a couple of Slytherins managed to sneak into the kitchens and grab some food with the help of some house elves, sneaking snacks and such into the common room. And lastly, you tick off drinks. You had managed to convince Theodore Nott to run out to go get fire whiskey for the night in exchange for doing his Potion’s homework for the week. No big deal, easy trade.

Pansy laughed as she watched you nervously pace around as she coated her lashes in thick mascara. “Relax, babes,” she laughs. “Tonight is supposed to be fun. You need it more than any of us. Take a load off. Unwind. Have fun. Alright?” she says as you exhale and smile. She was right. Parties were supposed to be fun, not stressful. “Now, let’s pick out an outfit for you, shall we?”

She gets up and raids your trunk, looking for something for you to wear. You sit on your bed and look at Daphne with eyes that scream help as Daphne laughs, brushing through her beautiful hair.

Pansy gasps as she finds a top deep in the trunk. A simple white cropped tank top that you hadn’t wore since year five when you got sick at Hogsmeade. You shiver at the memory. You thought that top brought you bad luck, even though it was your boobs look fantastic. “You haven’t worn this in ages!” she exclaims. You shake your head. If you wore the top, you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about the time you got sick. She groans, “Ugh! Fine. But if you won’t wear it again, I’ll take it.” She continues to dig through the trunk when she comes across a top you haven’t seen in a while. It was a sage green collared crop top that you and Daphne had picked out when you had gone shopping a few years ago. You smiled at the memory fondly. That was a great day. “What about this one? I think it’s nice. I have a pair of jeans you could wear with it!”

You nod your head as you start to change into outfit that Pansy constructed for you. You had to admit, it looked great. The green top had fit you perfectly, highlighting your figure. Pansy’s jeans fit great as you looked at your bum in the mirror. Pansy teasingly slaps it as you laugh. “Not too bad, Parkinson,” you tease her as she flips her hair.

“I know,” she mocks. “Now, let’s hurry up! I want to dance!”

With a few last touches of mascara and gloss and stealing another glance in the mirror, the three of you make your way into the common room. Only a few people are there, mostly the people who had agreed to help you set up. “Alright,” you beam. “Nott, set up the drinks over there on the table with cups. Daph and Pans, the food should be next to the drinks. Zabini, I trust you have good music,” you instruct as Zabini gives you a wink.

Soon enough, the common room filled up with people and your anxiety grew a little. You ran over to Pansy who was chatting with a few other Slytherins, sipping occasionally from her plastic cup. “Pans, do you think people are having fun?” you fiddle with your fingers as you watch people around the room, bodies dancing, people laughing, drinking, and eating.

Pansy rolls her eyes, “Merlin’s sake, (Y/N), the only person who you need to worry about having fun is you.” She grabs your hand with a mischievous smirk and drags you to the drinks. Before you can protest, she instructs, “Goyle! Pour (Y/N) a shot...make that two!”

You groan, “Pansy, come on.”

She hands you two shots of fire whiskey as she giggles. “Just have a little. It’ll loosen you up. Not to mention, it’s a bit of liquid confidence. Make you dance a little better. Flirt a little better...” she teases as you shake your head. “Come on! Shots! Shots! Shots!” she starts chanting as people join, a chorus chanting for you to throw back the two shots in your hands.

With a defeated sigh and a smile, you lift up the shots and cheers to the party before throwing them both back, the party cheering as you do so. The whiskey burned your throat, but warmed your chest in all the right places. You squint your eyes shut at the sensation and shook your head. “Bleh,” you stick out your tongue as Pansy drags you to the dance floor. “You’re lucky I’m a nice person, Parkinson.”

Some time passes and you find yourself a few more shots in to be tipsy, but not drunk. You dance in the common room with your friends, smiling and laughing along to the music. This was just what you needed. Time to loosen up and forget about your obligations for once. Push assignments out of your head, exams, and Draco.

But of course, wherever you are, he’s close behind. Fashionably late to parties as usual, Draco walks into the common room as music booms and people laugh and chatter. He wore black jeans and a white button down, a few buttons undone. Draco ran fingers through his hair as he scanned the room, looking for something or someone. Your gaze didn’t shift from him as you danced next to Daphne.

Then his eyes meet yours and he stops. For a moment, you just stare at each other before a smirk appears on his face as you gulp. You feel heat rising to your cheeks. Draco’s eyes graze all over your body, the gesture making you feel bare naked when you were fully clothed. Your heart raced as his eyes met yours again. He shook his head with a small smile before mouthing, “Library full?”

That’s when the rage takes over and you give him the finger and make a disgusted face at him before looking at Daphne who watches your changing expression. “Draco,” you tell her as she nods.

“Forget about him. Tonight, we have fun and not worry about him. Come on,” Daphne grabs your hand and spins you around as you laugh. The two of you dance around to the upbeat music, spinning the other around, jokingly grinding on each other as you know boys stare with their mouths open. You could care less, you were having fun with your best friend. “Let’s grab a drink,” she whispers in your ear over the music as you nod.

You make your way over to the drinks, Daphne pouring shots out. As you wait for a shot, you feel a body next to you.

Looking at them, you roll your eyes. “You follow me fucking everywhere, Malfoy,” you groan. “Don’t you have anything better to do than being my stalker?”

Draco ignores your comment and looks over to Daphne who hands him a shot. She sends him a wink as he nods. “Maybe if you shut your big mouth for a moment, you’d hear what I have to say, (Y/L/N),” Draco speaks as you scoff. “A toast. To none of us being stuck in that damned library tonight,” he offers.

A peace offering? From Malfoy? This seemed too good to be true. But honestly, you were willing to take the risk. You could use a bit of kindness from him after everything that’s happened.

Sighing, you raise your shot glass to his and take the shot, the liquid running hot down your throat as you cough a little bit. You look at Draco who is still watching you before he takes his shot and looks at you again with a small smile. “Enjoy the party,” he speaks before dashing off to go join Zabini who speaks to a few girls who obnoxiously flirt with him. Draco joining to get some action as well.

You scoff and turn to Daphne. “What in the hell was that about?”

She shakes her head. “Ignore it,” she instructs. “Let’s keep dancing.”

More time passes and you are still tipsy, but giggly nonetheless, mostly because of how much fun you were having rather than the alcohol. You hadn’t had this much fun in a while as you swayed your hips to the music, dancing with your friends. Your hair was now tied up in a ponytail as your face was dewy with sweat.

Almost everyone was dancing or interacting with each other in some way. The party was bumping and everyone was enjoying themselves. People kept on coming up to you and telling you how great it was. Regardless of their houses, people were loving interacting with each other and catching up. It all felt like old times for a moment. Everyone happy and having fun with each other no matter what their house was. It made you smile.

You continued to dance as your eyes scanned the crowd of people around you. For some reason, your mind kept wandering on about Draco and where was and what he was doing. His little comment before by the drinks confused you. Was it a peace offering? Was it sarcastic? What was going on inside that boy’s head?

Scanning the dance floor, that’s when you spot him. You see his blonde hair and his tall boy sway to the music. You smile softly to yourself when you see him. But it quickly subsides when you see what’s going on.

On the other side of the dance floor, Draco’s front side is pressed against Tracy Davis as he grinds against her. Your heart drops and your blood boils. Draco holds onto her hips as he grinds his hips against her backside as he bites back a smirk, dancing against her. Your blood is boiling for some reason at the sight.

You shake your head. You weren’t supposed to care about what he was doing. Tonight was about you having fun, not you worrying about where Draco was and what he was doing and who he was with. This was about you.

But you can’t stop watching him. The way his hands grip her hips. The way his hips sway to the music. The way his lips whisper something in her ear as she giggles, flipping her brown hair. The way he smirks when his eyes meeting yours that stare at him.

You can’t pull your gaze from his. You are locked in on him. And his one yours. But he doesn’t stop dancing against Tracy. They grind against each other as Draco smirks and moves his hips against Tracy’s backside before flipping her around and rocking his pelvis against hers, still not breaking eye contact with you.

This was wrong. All of it. You watching him. You feeling this way. Your cheeks becoming beet red. This was horrific. And yet you continued to watch him and him you.

This was a challenge now. And you weren’t backing down. A smirk forms on your glossed lips. With a few steps, you walk over to Theodore Nott is and grab his hand. You smirk at him and bite your lip, pulling him to the dance floor as he smiles. “What do you think you’re doing?” he teasingly wiggles his eyebrows.

“Having fun,” you respond simply, eyes raking up and down his body. You knew that when you wanted to, you could pull anyone you wanted. You had this confident and cool air that just made you intoxicating. “Dance with me.” Immediately, you’re pressed against Theodore, grinding against each other as he grabs your hips, guiding them in slow motions as you bite your lip. You hold onto his biceps as you dance against him. He leans over and whispers in your ear, “Geez, (Y/N), I didn’t know you were like this.”

You look over to where Draco is as his previous smirk drops as he watches you dance against Theodore, your hands on his as they grip on your hips, backside pressed against him, swaying back and forth. Without breaking eye contact with Draco, you reply to Nott, “I’m full of surprises.”

Draco stops dancing against Tracy and you can see him tense up. He gulps hard as he watches you continuing to dance against Theodore. You smiled, knowing that you had won. You just drop your left eye in a wink and that’s what sends Draco off of the dance floor and to the stairs.

You smile in victory as you gently stop dancing against Theodore, now that you’ve gotten what you wanted. “Thanks for the dance,” you smile at him as he drops his eye in a wink before leaving the dance floor.

You turn to where your friends are, seeing them dance around and singing along to the music. You want to join them, but a part of you is screaming to go find Draco. Weirdly, you felt bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have dance with Theodore. Sure, he was cute, but where you leading him on? Did you make Draco jealous?

Why would Draco be jealous? There was nothing to be jealous about.

And that’s what sends you to the stairs as you find Draco sulking by them, pacing back and forth. He looks up and sees you and just scoffs, “I thought you were the host of this party? You’re supposed to stay with the group.”

“And I thought you hated dancing,” you retort, looking at Draco with your arms crossed.

A small smirk appears on Draco’s face again as he descends a few stairs to meet you halfway. “(Y/L/N), were you jealous of me dancing with Davis?” he asks, folding his arms.

You scoff and roll your eyes. Maybe you were a little bit, but there was no way Draco was going to get that piece of information. “Absolutely not,” you state as Draco sarcastically nods. “Why? Were you trying to make me jealous?” you ask, raising your brows.

Draco laughs, “Why would I want to make you jealous?” You just stare at him, biting the inside of your cheek, controlling yourself. “Tracy Davis is hot. Nice arse.”

“You’re pathetic, Malfoy,” you spit at him.

Before you can leave him in the stairs, Draco stops you. “What about that stunt you pulled with Nott?” he asks.

You turn around, now your turn to laugh, “Ohhh, were you jealous of me dancing with Theodore?” Draco just tenses his jaw and gulps. You take a step toward him, testing the waters. “Admit it, you’re a pathetic, jealous son of a bitch.”

Draco says through gritted teeth, “Fuck off, would you?”

You smile, knowing you’re getting the best of him. His icy eyes stare into your fiery ones, battling each other. “Accept defeat, Malfoy,” you speak. “You’re just gonna have to live with the fact that I will always get the best of you.”

He chuckles, “And you’re just gonna have to live with the fact that you’re attracted to me and there’s nothing you can do about it.” You clench your fists. “You can’t get me out of your mind and you hate yourself for it.”

His words take you back. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls agape as you scoff. Draco smirks. The two of you are less than a foot away now, little steps drawing you closer and closer. There is electricity between the two of you and it was palpable.

“I fucking hate you,” you sneer at him.

He laughs, “I fucking hate you. I always have and I always will.”

“Is that a promise?” you ask, smiling sarcastically at him.

The two of you just glare at each other, inches away from the other, heavily breathing, chests rising and falling with the amount of pent up anger you both hold. Draco’s eyes dart between your eyes and then looking at your lips. Your heart stops for a moment as you stare at his, just watching his lips.

It all felt like when you were in the rose garden at the ball. When he looked in your eyes and then at your lips. That instance being more gentle and kind, this instance full of passion and rage building in your chests.

Draco’s eyes dart back to your eyes as you look up at him, still heavily breathing. His eyes search yours for a moment as if he’s looking for something.

Before anything else can happen, he has you pushed up against the brick wall and his lips are slammed against yours as you tangle your fingers in his hair, lips feverishly kissing his.

This would change everything.

-----

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istanleyff7 · 3 years ago

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TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 28-35

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 28-35 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter) Scene 28

Aerith intended to find a job on her own, but Elmyra had already promptly sorted it out. It was to help the teachers at the Sector 5 House. Even though it was a job, she didn't feel that she was working because she spent most of her time playing with the children. She wanted to know about the world that she hasn't experienced. Yoko, who was older than her, had already left the house. She rented a house with a group of friends and made jewellery, which she sold in markets around Midgar. Jean and X collected machine parts from the scrapyard, polished them and sold them to people who needed them. Elmyra frowned when she told her this and ordered that she must never leave Sector 5 no matter what.

"You said that if you restrained me, you'd be the same as Shinra. Have you forgotten?"

"I can’t believe you said that kind of stuff to your mother."

Elmyra looked very tired. Her work probably took a toll on her. If she had continued her "business" with Carlo and the others, she would not have had to work this hard. No matter how Aerith thought about it, she felt Elmyra let go of the business because of her. They were not a real parent and child, and she didn't have to care for her in the first place. Aerith wondered if she really had those inner thoughts, and she sure did. Was the given circumstances the reason why she tried to hold herself back with unnecessary words? Now, she was retaliating as a way to get back at Elmyra for tying her down.

Scene 29

"That's really sick."

"Yup, I admit it. My rebellious phase made things worse. I didn't have things to pour my heart and soul into, unlike you, Tifa."

"I really recommend exercising."

"Yeah, I’ll do that eventually."

"Yeah right… I’m sure.... You’ll do that eventually…."

"So, even though all these happened, I continued to help out at the house. The kids were so cute. They loved me. By the time I was fourteen, I didn't have much to complain about. But..."

Scene 30

After finishing work at the Sector 5 House, Aerith headed down the alley back home and saw people within the Gainsborough property standing by the entrance, unintentionally blocking it. There were two men and two women, and they seemed to be looking at the garden and the house. She recognised one of the men. His long, beautiful golden hair had not changed.

"Rodin!" Aerith called out to him instinctively.

The face she saw when he looked back was unmistakably Rodin's.

"Yo, Aerith!" Rodin called back to her cheerfully, but for some reason, still looking about his surroundings.

"You've grown taller, haven't you? How long has it been?"

"It's been two years? Maybe slightly more than that?"

"Ahhh, yeah around that long."

She also looked at the other three to see if she knew them.

"Cheers."

Their eyes met. The young man with a large body and a boy's face raised his hand bashfully.

"Eh? Is that you, Marcellus?"

"Ah, you recognise me?"

"Of course."

Although Aerith replied that, she did not think that he was the same as back then. His physique became like his father's.

"I brought Marcellus here because, for some reason, he insisted on seeing you, Aerith."

Rodin took a step back, seeming like he made an excuse. There was a sense of discomfort. Marcellus darted his eyes from place to place and Aerith could sense his nervousness. He scratched his cheeks two or three times and started to speak in an awkward manner.

"Aerith. Firstly, I want to apologise for calling you a thief. Please forgive me. I was really a stupid kid. I hated anything and everything about the world at that time. I didn't even control myself."

"I had already forgiven you. I'm glad you seem to be doing fine."

Marcellus's face lit up.

"Yea, I've been doing fine, thanks to you. Some thugs were chasing after me, then I ran away before a monster attacked me, and I was dying. Then I had a dream that you came to save me. For the longest time, I thought that it was a dream. Even if you were close by to me, you had no reason to save me, and you definitely couldn't be close by. But I had heard it from Carlo the other day that you knew where I was. Carlo didn't believe your reason. That's why he didn't tell anyone about it for a long time."

Aerith gave a faint smile, thinking that it was best not to deny or confirm anything. Damn you, Carlo.

"So I did a lot of research, and I've been wondering if it was the influence of the Lifestream. It's the flow of Spirit Energy. Do you know about it?"

"Nope."

She pretended not to know anything.

"Mako Energy sucks away the Lifestream..."

"Marcellus!" the young lady had been quiet the whole time, rebuked at him. "You're not allowed to talk badly about Mako Energy. I'll tell Papa if you do."

She then looked over at Aerith—

"My brother can talk about this for a super long time. Hey, have you been well?"

It was Rona.

"Yup. It looks like you're doing well too, Rona. How's Mr Meguro?"

"I can't say he's fine, but he's doing better now than when we left the slums. The air is better on the plate. You see, it's polluted and cloudy here, isn't it? I didn't know that until we left."

Rona was the same as before. She hurts people without meaning to.

"What's Carlo doing now?"

"He's working hard and is managing the business well. But I do wonder how he was during The Sector 5 Clash..."

"The Sector 5.... Clash?"

"You don't know about it?" Rona was shocked. "After Papa retired and Carlo became head of the household, the Corneo's, and some other ambitious, unknown people, came into Sector 5. Carlo and the others tried to get rid of them, and there was a bloody clash. Marvin, Roger and Bowman died, unfortunately."

"Eh...."

Aerith wondered how she could not have known about that.

"Well, things have already settled down, so there isn't an issue. And everyone has settled down where they should be," Rodin said, looking around again.

"Well then, Marcellus, Rona, are you both done? You both still can send letters in the future."

"Elmyra will be back soon. Do you all want tea?"

"I'm afraid we can't have tea either. We're actually not allowed in the Special District."

"Special District?"

"It spans from the station until here," Marcellus said. "It was established by Shinra around the time the Clash began. We weren't allowed to fight in the Special District. Anyone who breaks this rule would be executed. It was the only rule that everyone obeyed."

"I wonder what made this district special."

"Eh? Of course, it's because you're here, Aerith!" Rona could not hide her shock as she said it out loud.

"Okay! That's enough!" Rodin panicked.

"You both talked too much. Well then, let's go." Rodin urged them.

Marcellus hurriedly tried to arrange another meeting with Aerith. It seemed that he wanted to talk about the "mysterious incident". Aerith gave him a faint nod and dodged his attempt to do so. Rona invited her to come up to the plate to play, and Aerith replied that she would ask Elmyra. The four of them began leaving the alley. But Rodin turns around and points to a woman beside him. She was the one who was not introduced until the end.

"This woman is Amber, and we'll be getting married soon. Would you please pass the news to Elmyra? It's unfortunate that I couldn’t introduce Amber to her."

Amber looked at Aerith with an angry look on her face.

↞↠

When Aerith got home, she looked at a stand, which had a vase placed on it. There used to be a television on that stand. She wondered when the television disappeared from the house.

"Ah..."

She remembered. It was a month after Elmyra severed ties with Carlo and the household. While Elmyra was cleaning the stand, the television fell over, and it broke. There was no television in the house after that. Aerith wondered if it was a coincidence or was it just to keep unnecessary information out of the house.

Elmyra returned home late at night, and Aerith talked to Elmyra about Rodin and the others.

"Oh my, it's been a while, hasn't it? Are they alright?"

However, Aerith could tell on Elmyra's face that she was on guard.

"Hey, Mum. Do you know about the Sector 5 Clash? And about the Special District too?"

"What have you heard? We are living in a different world from those guys. It's better if you don’t worry about every little detail."

It seems that she would leave things in the dark again.

"The Special District is right here, isn't it? It's because I'm here. That's why Mum, you wouldn't let me go far away. That's the promise you made to Shinra. A promise to shut me in the Special District."

Elmyra shut her eyes and shook her head.

"That's not it. But let's stop talking about this now. I'm tired, and whew, work was rough. The water tank in the café had broken down."

"Why don't you quit your job if it’s that tough? If you want money, why don't you get it from Shinra? You've been living on their money all your life. Nothing would change, wouldn’t it?"

Aerith knew she should not have said that, but she did. She could not see the look on Elmyra's face, and she then heard footsteps. Elmyra went up to the second floor and went into her own room.

Scene 31

"At that point, I thought that would be the end of my time in the house."

"But it had a happy ending, didn't it? I mean, you both went back on good terms."

Scene 32

Aerith thought that she could not stay in the house any longer and she was filled with emotions. Aerith firstly went back to her room, pulled out a suitcase she had never used from under the bed and stuffed a few sets of clothes, along with a few valuables, into it. Lastly, she put all the money she had earned from the Sector 5 House into her pocket and left the house. She walked down a familiar alleyway into a brightly lit street. A familiar face called out to her.

"Hey, Aerith. Are you going out at this hour?"

"I'm heading towards Sector 6."

She instinctively told a lie.

"Wait, what, no!"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to the Wall Market."

"Be careful, okay? Elmyra will cry if that happens."

As she walked along the street, she remembered her adventure with Ifalna.

『I wonder which direction is Sector 3 in?』

『Which direction is Sector 3 in?』

『I've heard that there's a church in the Sector 5 Slums. In the past, people gathered here and prayed to God, but nobody comes here anymore. I've been thinking that we should hide there a little...』

Aerith's steps became lighter. She still really liked this idea that Ifalna brought up in the middle of that adventure. The church should be far and beyond the station, outside the 'Special District'. It was the perfect place for Aerith's mood. The depressing feeling she had when she left home unbelievably cleared away.

『Never forget that feeling, okay?』

『The feeling that you’ll enjoy anything.』

The memories of Ifalna came flooding back one by one.

Scene 33

"When you fight with a parent, adrenaline builds up in you, doesn't it?" Tifa uttered and seemed to be reminded of something.

"Yeah. That's why I couldn't stop and think about it."

"Yup. I understand."

"I've regrettably hurt people."

Tifa swallowed her breath after hearing Aerith's confession.

Scene 34

A train just pulled in at the platform of the station. That was probably the last train from the plate. Aerith glanced at it sideways and went ahead to try walking past it. This place was where she left her birth mother, and because of that, she still could not look at it directly. She felt as though the scene was still there. Suddenly, thoughts that she would be making a wrong move flashed through Aerith's mind. Was she about to make a grave mistake? The adrenaline she had felt earlier had unbelievably disappeared. The "Special District" was to protect her. Once she crosses the station, she would no longer have the protection. She stood rock still, as though there was an invisible wall ahead of her. Only the surrounding areas of the station were lit up. If she went forth, the road ahead would be dark. She could not see the future.

"Aerith?" a deep voice called out to her.

She turned around to see a large man standing with his back to the station. He had big eyes, a big nose and a big mouth.

"Ahhh!"

"You've totally grown up, haven't you? You look like your mother."

It was Fuzz, and he was wearing the same white coat as that day.

"You've got the wrong person," Aerith lied at the spur of the moment.

Trying to get away from him, she turned her back towards the station and darted towards the darkness. She noticed that Fuzz was following her. She could not stop.

"Aerith, wait up. It's not what you're thinking."

Aerith wondered what other reasons could he try to stop her. She felt that she should not believe him and stop for him. He must have been angry and detest us. She wondered what would happen if he caught her. Aerith no longer knew where she was headed to. She was running along a narrow road, and the surroundings were a mountain of trash. By any chance...

"Jean! X!"

There was no response. Even if this were their scrapyard, they wouldn't be there at this hour. But she could not help calling out to them.

"Ahh!"

Aerith stumbled into something big and soft and fell. The suitcase she held dropped to the ground with a thud, signalling that it broke.

"Ouch..."

She did not know what was in the middle of the road at first, but it was the carcass of a dead monster. There was an unidentifiable sound coming out from it. It died not long ago. Its bodily fluids reached Aerith's feet and hands, and she felt a stinging sensation.

"You don't have to worry. That's harmless."

It was Fuzz. She looked up at him on her bottom. He was as big as she remembered him when she was seven. She noticed that the hem of her skirt was very crumpled, and she hurriedly fixed it. She looked for an opportunity to stand up and back away.

"Aerith, how could you do this to me? I've been worrying about you since then. Ever since you ran away from Shinra, I've been wondering if you've been living in terrible conditions. I heard about this from Amber, whom you met today."

"Amber!?"

Amber. Aerith met her in the evening, and she was introduced as Rodin's lover, and they were to be married. She had an angry face. Aerith then connected Amber to Fuzz.

"Looks like you don't remember her. She was the friend who unloaded you both from the cargo train at the Sector 4 Slums Station."

"Ahh!"

So Amber was the grumpy-looking woman in the dirty work clothes that day.

"I heard from her about where you were, and I hurriedly came over to find you. But what a close call. We almost didn't cross paths. I'm sure it was Ifalna who brought us together."

Aerith slowly stood up. Fuzz took two steps back, perhaps to assure her that he was not a threat.

"Are you going to church, by any chance?"

"What?"

"I've talked to Ifalna about it before. She seemed to be very interested in it. When I told her I'd take her there someday, she said she definitely did not want to go. After you both disappeared, I went to look for both of you several times at the church, just in case you were both there. I prayed, but in the end, it seemed to me that there was no God."

A roar of a beast could be heard somewhere.

"That's from a monster. Here's the danger zone, especially at night. Shall we go to the church? Since we came all the way here anyway. It's not too far off from here, and it's nearer than the station."

It seemed that Aerith ran away further than she thought.

"But..."

"I see. Are you more afraid of me than the monster?"

She nodded honestly. He should already know how she was behaving towards him, and there was no point in pretending.

"Well, I'll just walk ahead then, and you can keep a distance and follow me. If a monster comes up behind you, run away on your own. We can’t expect the vigilante corps to be here at this hour. And I must warn you, don't expect me to put up a good fight too. Just because I'm huge doesn't mean I'm strong."

With a thin smile, Fuzz walked away. His big white back disappeared into the darkness. Fuzz was right. She did not dare to go back alone on the monster-infested road. Just because they didn't appear on the way here doesn't mean they won't appear on the way back.

"Watch out!" Fuzz's voice came from a long way in front. "The monster is dead, but it's still fresh. Don't step on it."

↞↠

The "soon" was somewhat a lie, wasn't it? They had walked so far that she was doubtful of Fuzz, and after passing the carcass of the third monster, which was still fresh, they finally came to the front of the church.

"I wonder who brought them down?" Fuzz wondered as he walked up the stone steps and approached the door of the church. It was a big door. The style of the building was unlike anything Aerith had ever seen before. She could not see the entire structure even if she was looking up. She wondered what it would look like in daylight. The door opened with a squeak. Fuzz beckoned to her, and he went in. Aerith then went up the stone steps. A light, sweet scent wafted over from the church. It was a smell that Aerith knew. The inside was pitch black, but the floor at the back was slightly white.

"Look, the flowers bloom here. Regardless of whether there is a God or not, this is a special place," Fuzz said.

Aerith thought the same. Flowers bloom in special places. The same scent from the Gainsborough garden surrounded her, and she was soon faced with feelings of regret. She wondered what Elmyra was doing—wondering if she was looking for her daughter, who ran away from home. She wondered if she was going in the direction of Wall Market, taking the word of her acquaintance and believing him blindly.

"You can sleep on the bench near the flowers. I'll be near the exit.

"Thank you."

Aerith was not sleepy at all, but she did as he suggested and sat down on a bench near the flowers. She let out a big, quiet breath and felt every stiffness in the muscles of her body relax. She must have been tenser than she had realised. She felt like she was about to really fall asleep. She had to think of something. She wondered what would have happened if she had come to this church that day with her mother, Ifalna. What if the adventure had continued until the end? What would she have worked as? With little knowledge about the world, what would she have done? Would they have been able to live together on good terms? No matter how close they were, would they have disagreements? Since they were a real parent and child, would no problems arise?

"Aerith."

A voice came from a distance.

"Yes?”

"The house at Sector 3, it's still there. I've continued paying the rent since then."

"I see."

"Would you like to live together?"

She wondered what he just said to her. What did he mean?

"You'd like me to live together with you?"

There was no response.

"Fuzz?"

As she stood up fearfully, she saw that Fuzz was right next to her.

"Yeah. Let's live together, ‘I..fal...na…’"

Fuzz smiled. The pupil in his eyes seemed like it was not looking anywhere. A big hand reached out slowly towards her.

"Come here."

He was going to grab her! Aerith tried to take the suitcase and run. However, he caught her by the arm.

"Let go of me!"

She slammed the suitcase into Fuzz's face as hard as she could. Fuzz flinched. The handle broke, the suitcase came off and flew off somewhere.

"You're heartless, Aerith."

She did not care and ran away. Weaving her way between the benches, she ran for the door. Fuzz jumped over the benches and gave chase.

"Wait!"

There was no way she was waiting. The door was already nearby. She had to exit and run away. And what should she do after escaping? Fuzz knows where she stays. Amber, without a doubt, told him about Elmyra's house. Even if she ran away now, Fuzz would show up eventually. What should she do? Would she always have to live in fear? As long as Fuzz was around...

And Aerith eventually darted out of the door.

"Eh?"

Elmyra was there in front of her, dressed in her usual clothes as though nothing was wrong. Her face changed from surprised to relieved, and her facial expression changed a few more times. Finally, she turned serious.

"Aerith, move aside."

"Huh?" Fuzz sluggishly came out of the building, "Who’s out there?"

Elmyra hammered his throat with her weapon with all of her might. Fuzz let out a shriek of pain, collapsed and laid down motionlessly. Aerith was shocked to see what weapon Elmyra was using. It was a broom, and it seems that she had brought it here.

"Shall we go home?"

"Okay."

"You didn't leave anything behind?"

"Ah..."

She forgot her suitcase. There was something important inside of it.

"Quickly go get it."

"Okay."

She went back into the darkness of the church and went over to the flowers. She looked around and immediately saw a suitcase. The lid was open, and its contents were scattered outside. She gathered up the scattered clothes and put them back in the case, but she could not find her "treasure"—the pouch containing the materia.

"What are you doing?" Elmyra called out to Aerith, her voice audibly contained irritation.

"I can't find that materia."

Elmyra mumbled in annoyance and crouched down to join Aerith in finding it.

"It's in a little pouch made out of cloth."

"I know."

It's true. Elmyra knows everything about her.

"But, how did you know I was here?" Aerith asked while searching for the pouch.

"That's what I'd like to know too."

"Eh?"

"I knew that you ran away, and I soon went out of the house too. I thought about where you'd have gone as I ran. And then, while I was in the garden, I knew that you would have gone to the church on the outskirts of the slums."

"Why?"

"It just somehow came to my mind. Ever since you came to the house, I've had several strange experiences. I thought that it was this sort of experience again. So I went back home again and did some preparations before coming over."

"And what you prepared was a broom?"

"I wasn't exactly calm, you know. But it was useful, wasn't it? Look, Aerith, over there."

Elmyra pointed towards the densely grown flowers. In the middle laid the pouch that they were searching for. She parted the flowers away to not step on them, picked up the pouch and looked inside. The materia seemed to be glowing brighter than usual.

Aerith turned around to look at Elmyra and was about to ask her shall they go back.

Elmyra was seated on the bench, and she was praying. She had her hands clasped at her chest, and her eyes were closed. The sight of her took Aerith's breath away.

"I used to give thanks like this when I was a child," Elmyra said, opening her eyes as she stood up.

She seemed embarrassed by it.

"Is it different from a prayer?"

"It's different today."

"Who did you thank?”

"Whoever told me about this place. Well, let's head out of here."

Elmyra started to walk, and Aerith followed her behind.

"Mum."

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

"Aerith, you’ve been talking to me normally since just now, but I'm angry with you. When I get home, you will face the music and hear everything I want to say."

"Okay～"

Both of them were completely distracted.

Fuzz had regained consciousness and was hiding behind the door. Firstly, he kicked Elmyra and sent her flying.

"Mum!"

Fuzz tried to rush over to Elmyra and was drawing near her. She dodged his grasp, picked up the broom that she had dropped, turned around and struck the big man. However, the handle snapped right in half.

"Aerith! Come over here!" Elmyra called out to her.

Aerith ran towards her in panic. She saw Elmyra holding a gun with both hands and pointing it at Fuzz. That was the gun that Carlo had left behind. Fuzz stopped in his tracks and stared at the muzzle of the weapon.

"You take one more step, and I'll shoot you."

"Why don't you understand me!?" Fuzz yelled as he came towards them.

A shot rang. Elmyra had fired the gun. The dry sounds of gunshots echoed in the air. How many shots did she fire? Finally, they only heard the metallic click of the trigger.

"Ifalna..."

Fuzz approached them as if nothing had happened. His lab coat was terribly stained, but there was no sign that a bullet had hit him.

"I can't believe this gun didn’t do shit!" Elmyra swore and threw her gun at Fuzz, but it flew well over the big man's head.

"Mum, let's run already..."

A bang was heard, and it was a sharp sound that cut through the air. Aerith did not know what it was until she looked at Fuzz. He was holding his left shoulder with his right hand and moaning. His blood was running on his white coat as he had been shot in the shoulder. Who had shot him? From where? Aerith looked around, but there was no shooter in sight.

"Let's go," Elmyra uttered in an awfully calm manner.

Fuzz collapsed and was writhing in pain. Aerith was not fearful anymore. He just looked so pathetic now.

"I'm sorry."

"Aerith, let's hurry."

Without delay, Elmyra started walking, holding the broken broom with both her hands. At last, Aerith apologised to Fuzz once more. She then proceeded to hug her handleless suitcase and chased after Elmyra.

"Hey, Mum. I wonder who shot him."

"I'm guessing this, but the 'Special District' probably expanded."

Ah. That makes sense. As they walked on, Aerith looked around her surroundings, searching for a black suit. Just for tonight, she felt that she could give them her thanks.

Scene 35

"What happened to Fuzz after that?" Tifa asked with a concerned look on her face.

"I never saw him again. Though, till now, I still get nervous when I see someone big."

"I see."

Whenever Aerith thought about Fuzz, she would still have mixed feelings about him. She did not want to see him again. However, she also carried guilt. Fuzz became like that because of what Ifalna and her did to him. If she never pondered about this, these feelings of guilt would continue for a long time. She wondered if she would ever get the chance to atone.

"You can talk to me about everything, okay?" Tifa assured her.

Aerith was delighted by her compassion. She wanted to tell her more.

"Well then, next up is a big one!"

"You gotta be kidding me. There's something bigger than whatever you said?"

"For that, you're right. It's about my first love."

"Oh, that's definitely something big!"

―It sounded like someone walked into the cargo hold. Tifa seemed to notice it too. They put their index finger to their lips and looked at each other. The sound of footsteps was coming closer, coming from the other side of the cargo wall. Tifa moved noiselessly to the gap in the cargo. It looked like she was waiting for the owner of those footsteps.

The time passed slowly but surely, and the footsteps came to a stop.

"It's me."

It was the voice of Cloud Strife. Tifa's expression softened.

"I'll tell you next time. About the story of my first love," Aerith whispered to her.

Cloud walked in front of them and looked at both of them with a dubious look. He made a face as though he was investigating them, and he looked ridiculous. Aerith and Tifa burst into laughter, trying to keep their silence.

-fin- ↞↠ You’re on page 142/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel Word Count: 29322 The End. Thanks for the reading! Translator’s Note Previous Scenes: Scenes 22-27 Back to Content Page (click/tap here) Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 1 — Tifa (Coming Soon) Episode 2 ― Aerith Coda: The Investigation Unit Within the Painting follow @istanleyff7 on twitter for updates support the TOTP translation project financially here (click/tap here)

#ff7 ffvii ff7r ffviir FF7RLN aerith

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wakaoujisenhime · 4 years ago

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Hello there! I love your writing so much! ❤️ And I have a request! Scenario with Kirishima on a mission with his fem s/o, whose quirk is solar energy, she can absorb the suns energy, store it within her body for use when it’s needed, and use it to attack either with bright light to temporarily blind an enemy or condense the energy tightly together to create burning physical attacks. She saves a citizen but gets badly hurt for it. It almost kills her but in the end she survives and fully recovers

A/N: Thank you for your sweet words! This is a really cute scenario you came up with and I hope that you like what I made of it! Please enjoy! (*⁰▿⁰*)/

Tags: Kirishima x reader ✅ SFW ✅ fluff ✅ angst ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

My light - Kirishima x reader

Big hands wrapped around your body as they adjusted the creme-yellow belt of your hero costume. With an amused gaze you watched as your red-haired lover struggled to perfectly align every single detail of your clothing with his big hands until you couldn’t help yourself anymore and began to giggle.

“Don’t laugh (Y/N), you know that I’m not good with this!”

“And yet you still insist on helping me with it,” you answer with a smile on your lips as you softly remove the man’s hands from you an squeeze them. As if to return your gentle touch he brought your hands to his lips and made sure to kiss every single knuckle, making you blush in embarrassment in the process.

“Are you ready?”

His sudden question took you by surprise, but after a couple of seconds you nodded confidently.

——

Both, Kirishima and you stood next to each other slightly nervous about what your superior had called you in his office for. The blond man in front of you looked over some documents before finally lifting his gaze, a grin immediately spreading along his mouth.

“Well hi there you two, there’s no need to be that nervous, you know? C’mon, loosen up a little!”

The two of you did as told and relaxed your tensed up muscles, after which you spoke up, asking the pro hero in front of you why he had wished for a meeting in his office.

Usually, Fat Gum wasn’t one that sticked to formalities, such as calling his workers - or in your case, heroes - to his office for a talk. He preferred to casually bring it up whenever he met with the person(s) in question, and that’s why Kirishima and you were so surprised when Tamaki had asked you to go to the main office for a talk with the boss.

Luckily, he was quick to realize that you both were pretty nervous so he immediately began explaining. It was truly a relief to hear that all he wanted to share with you were the details for a joint mission the two of you would be taking care of the following day. He gave you all relevant details and as always asked you to be careful and try to not get yourselves injured. With a promise to watch out for each other and be as careful as always Kirishima and you left your superior’s office and began reviewing all the relevant papers he’d given you. You were motivated and happy to finally have a mission with your beloved, since not only were you a great team but just being by his side during dangerous missions made you feel safe and somewhat relieved. While you looked at the red-haired man’s profile as he scanned over the paper in his hands, you promised yourself to make this mission a success.

——

Ah! It’s Red Riot and Sunshine!

E-Excuse me Red Riot sir, can I have your autograph?

Thank you two for always watching out for us!

Miss Sunshine, can I have a selfie with you?

After answering all questions and attending to everyone’s requests the two of you resumed your walk. Being stopped by people who treat you like some famous actors was nothing new to the two of you since this wasn’t the first joint mission you took on and yet you were always overwhelmed by the amount of love and support everyone showed you. But what made you even happier was seeing how Kirishima reacted to it all.

The way his cheeks became redder, his slightly stuttering but nonetheless loud voice, how big his eyes got whenever a fan of his showed him the merch they’d bought, and many other small and adorable things you noticed were simply heartwarming. As his lover you knew more than anyone how much effort he puts into his hero career and just how ambitious he follows through with the goal to step into Crimson Riot’s footsteps, so seeing his hard work being rewarded made you extremely happy.

A couple of minutes passed and you slowly had to resume your patrol, so you unobtrusively signaled your red-haired companion to wrap his talk up. The disappointment of his fans didn’t last as long as you’d presumed it would, but who could blame them when Kirishima flashed that sharp but angelic smile instead of bidding them a proper farewell.

“My bad (Y/N), I got quite caught up talking with them about their t-shirts!”

You giggled and pat his shoulder a few times before answering: “There’s nothing for you to apologize about, in fact I can’t really blame you since…the new collection of yours looks pretty cool”

Even though you had whispered the last part of your sentence, the man next to you heard it nonetheless and couldn’t help but smile broader than he already was. The moment he parted his mouth to give you an answer, a sudden explosion some meters away from you interrupted the wholesome moment you were having. You two immediately ceased your idle chatter and switched over to your hero personalities. While you began to evacuate the nearby pedestrians, your boyfriend rushed to the explosion site and helped the injured people out. Your eyes followed the backs of the innocent citizens as they ran away from the smokescreen that was enveloping the massive frame of Kirishima, who was holding onto staggering and hurt pedestrians as he brought them to safety.

Before you could go and help him out a figure caught your eye and just as you were about to call out to them, they turned the corner and ran into an alleyway. “Hey! Hold it!“ you shouted and almost immediately took chase, ignoring the young man’s worried screams behind you, pleading for you to at least wait for him and not do anything too rash. You heard him and nodded to yourself, repeating his warning inside of your head as you continued your chase.

Surprisingly enough, the person before you wasn’t as quick as you had expected so it wasn’t that hard to keep up with him and just as you were about to take a hold of their arm they cut the corner yet again. You spit out a curse before following the new route of the suspicious individual and that’s when the worst case scenario happened.

Just a few steps in front of you was a young school girl who was talking to someone over her mobile phone and because of that she failed to notice the two of you approaching. You shouted out a warning but her reactions were unfortunately too slow and allowed the suspect to grab her and hold a knife to her throat.

“D-Don’t come any closer or else this girl’s death will be your fault!”

Without much hesitation you obeyed and stopped, using the moment of silence to asses the situation as well as take a proper look at the person you had just chased. It appeared to be a middle aged man and judging by his wide eyes and slightly trembling hand you deduced that he wasn’t used to threatening people like that.

Perfect, I just need to calm him down and hope that words will be enough…I’d really like to avoid using my powers

As you thought that you glanced up at the sky where the sun was shining brighter than you’d ever seen it in the past few days and if you were being honest, it worried you a little. Your quirk was the accumulative type and allowed your body to store solar energy, allowing you to use it at your discretion, but it came at a cost. To put it simply, the brighter and stronger the sun shone, the more dangerous and taxing your power was on your body. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and began reasoning with the man who faced you.

“Sir there is no need for you to get other people involved, we can clear this misunderstanding between us, ok?”

You spoke slow but with a firm voice so that neither the man got more agitated than he already was nor scare the innocent girl any further. And indeed the man relaxed his grip ever so slightly but the moment you wanted to continue with your plan of calming him down the young girl screamed out for help and began struggling desperately.

“No…! Don’t-”

But before you could warn her to not make anything rash it was too late. The girl’s thrashing about ended up hitting the man behind her a few times, which resulted in him finally losing his patience and the moment you saw him raise his hand, in which he held the knife, you immediately activated your quirk and shouted: “Close your eyes!”

Fortunately for you, your message reached the recipient it was meant for and when you confirmed that the female student had obeyed your order, you released a portion of the energy you had collected from today’s sunshine and blinded the man. While he was stumbling back screaming, you used the short timeframe to grab the girl’s hand and start running.

“Ok I need you to listen and obey everything I’m about to tell you, got it?” you asked and waited for her affirmation first before you continued, “Run as fast as you can back to the main street and there you’ll meet the sturdy hero Red Riot, a muscular, tall, and red-haired young man, who’ll keep you safe while I take care of that man, ok? Now run!”

You normally would’ve gone with her, but your previous move took more out of you than expected, so you chose to leave her safety to your trusted lover while you won them some time.

The man’s quick and heavy steps were closing in on you, so you prepared yourself to attack once again if necessary. With the plans to either stun him a second time so that he can’t see where he runs or inflict a burn on one of his kneecaps to slow him down, you turned to face him.

“O-Oh my god…why didn’t you….? T-This can’t be happening! I-I….I have to g-get away from here!”

“Not s-so fast…” you utter as you hold onto his hand and your body temperature begins to rise. In a swift and quick motion you kick his shin, causing his knee to buckle and used that small timeframe to bring this man down, ultimately pinning him to the ground with your leg on top of his chest, and your hands tightly gripping his wrists. In order to make him surrender completely you released your powers and that energy caused slight burns on each body part you had come in contact with. You had to use and control your power which was pretty taxing to your body. Your vision slowly grew blurry and that’s when you remembered the small “promise” your loved one had made to you as you ran off.

Aah…Eijiro, please hurry up..

“(Y/N)!”

Hearing the familiar voice echo behind you just mere moments after you had thought of him made you smile in relief. You took one last glance at the knife which was deeply buried inside of your lower stomach before closing your eyes and embracing the darkness that had tried to claim you this entire time…

——

P-Please, you need to save her! I-I’ll do anything, so please-!

Sir I need you to calm yourself down, you’re bothering the other patients.

We first need to perform a checkup on her, s-

I don’t care what you have to do, j-just please!

That’s enough out of you shitty hair, let the doctors handle it and meanwhile we’ll wait outside!

While your consciousness drifted back and forth you could make out a couple of voices near you and one of them belonged to none other than Kirishima.

“E-Eijiro…”

You felt a big hand tightly wrap around your own and squeeze it slightly, but before you could do or even say anything else, your vision once again blackened.

——

Calloused fingers caress the back of your hand as the tall man kisses your bandaged knuckles. His empty stare fixated on your sleeping form and the peaceful way you just lied there managed to put him at ease for at least a couple seconds before once again realizing the harsh truth of how grave you had been injured by that man and your own quirk.

“You idiot…I told you to be careful and not overdo it, didn’t I?” he silently whispered in front of himself as he used his free hand to stroke your cheek ever so gently. Since your hospitalization he remained practically glued to your side, refusing to miss even a single update on your condition, if it weren’t for his friends to literally drag him out of your room so that he gets something to eat or simply see the summer sun he would be in an even worse condition than right now. He was aware that he was a burden to others and that he behaved immaturely, but every time he tried to cheer up for their sake or simply try to worry less, he’d remember that day of the incident.

The scene of your back facing him while you were apprehending the man who had ran off seemed normal at first, but as soon as he was merely a couple of steps away from you, you had fallen forward right on top of the other man’s chest. He began panicking and apologizing frantically, saying stuff like I didn’t mean to do it or why didn’t she dodge, and that’s when he noticed the abnormal amount of blood that had stained the other man’s shirt…

While your lover recalled the unpleasant and rather traumatizing event, he failed to notice the way your facial features tensed up and your eyes slowly fluttering open. At first you couldn’t really feel your body, so all you did was glance around and quickly came to the conclusion that you were in a hospital room. All you could hear except the silence that surrounded you were the steady breaths of someone who most likely stood pretty close to you. Just as you were about to try and move your body a sudden voice stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m sorry (Y/N) for being late…I-I should’ve hurried up and come to y-your aid quicker, t-then you wouldn’t have had to use your ability to that extend and e-even wouldn’t have gotten stabb– god, forgive me…”

His shaky voice was full of sorrow and guilt and as if that wasn’t painful enough for you to hear, Kirishima even squeezed your hands tighter than before and put them up to his forehead. The man continued muttering apology after apology and with each one he got sadder, so you finally decided to speak up.

“If you continue squeezing my hand like that it’ll never recover, you know?” you joked with the most cheerful voice you could muster and even though it ended up sounding more raspy, it achieved the surprise effect you were going for. Wide red eyes, filled with nothing but relief stared at your smiling face.

The man next to your bed got up so quickly that his chair fell over, he was so overwhelmed with the fact that you were awake that he didn’t know what to do first. Call the doctor and the nurses over? Ask you about your condition? Embrace you? Lecture you? Cry?

In order to take most of his nervousness away, you gently tugged on his hand and smiled up at him with glassy eyes.

“Ei, I missed you.”

One single tear rolled down his cheek and as realization slowly downed on him the stream of tears didn’t stop flowing down his face. He bend down to you and as gently as he could wrapped his arms around you, hiding himself in the crook of your neck.

A couple of minutes had to pass by until he was capable of properly talking to you and knowing just how worried he had been you figured that he’d most likely start lecturing you, but as you saw him push the button next to your bed that was supposed to notify the hospital staff in case of an emergency, you gave him a confused glance.

“(Y/N), I’m pretty sure that you know what I want to tell you and I hope that you’re aware of just how mad I am, but,” he paused and looked directly at your face, but to you it seemed like he glanced at something beyond you. After what felt like an eternity of torturing silence he finally resumed his initial thought with a somewhat sad smile: “…the only thing I’m most thankful for is the fact that you’re alive and well.”

A gentle knock on your door and the entry of the nurse interrupted your discussion. After she checked in with Kirishima you watched as he slowly left your room…

——

“Ok, then Miss Sunshine one last sign and you’re free to leave.”

You sign the last document she’d given you and smile, thanking her for everything they’d done for you. She simply smiled and humbly shook her head. “Miss I’m simply doing my job…just like you. Thanks to every hero’s efforts I can feel safe…and if by treating your injuries I can contribute to your well-being and performance then I’d gladly do so.”

With flushed cheeks, you chuckle at her words, and just as you were about to leave she stopped you.

“But if I may give you an advice for the future…please refrain from such reckless actions again. This wasn’t the first time you came here because of your quirk’s effects on your body…but this time was the worst. I don’t know what lead you to drive yourself beyond your body’s limits, but you standing right here in front of me in such good condition is nothing short of a miracle.”

Silence.

“She knows that.”

The two of you turned to the person who’d just butted into your conversation and as expected it was none other than your boyfriend, who was standing behind you. He carefully wrapped one arm around your waist and held out a beautifully arranged bouquet to you with his other one. You took the flowers and blushed as you whispered a short thank you to him. With his usual broad grin, he kissed your cheek and took the bag you were carrying, slumping it over his own broad shoulder.

The two of you bid the nurse and her colleagues farewell as you slowly headed for the exit. She watched your backs as you walked past the entryway and focused on the man’s smile which seemed to never falter, as she recalled his words the day you had been rushed to the hospital right before his blind friend had brought him away…

I know that it’s not my place to say this, but please save her…

I’m begging you…

Please save my light…

#bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha angst #mha angst #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #━𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 #━𝙼𝙷𝙰 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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captainkurosolaire · 3 years ago

Note

I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!

Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)

@eligos-venator

- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.

@mischiefandmystics

- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.

@mishivymendi

- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.

@asymphonyofash

- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.

@lavender-hemlock

- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)

@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes

under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full

head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.

#I acknowledge you #Love you #Keep doing you #Asks answered #I'm the one guy who's never not going to be filtered or unspoken #To many people have left or been broken #Don't you ever think about it.#There's so many many more #But I'll recharge for next time

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writerofblocks · 3 years ago

Note

*sneaks this in* Bridget/Troy - things you said with no space between us (or) things you didn’t say at all

This was. From a long ass time ago. BUT ITS FINISHED NOW SO IM POSTING IT.

Sleepless in Stilwater

“Three.”

“Hmm?”

Troy held up three fingers. “That’s the third time you’ve yawned in as many minutes. And I’d be okay with that if you weren’t, you know, doin’ seventy on a forty-five mile an hour highway.”

Bridget broke eye contact with the road long enough to give him a sidelong glare that would wither a lesser man. “I’m not the only one doing their best Fast and the Furious impression out there,” she irritably shot back. A sports car rushed past them with an ear splitting squeal that made Troy jump, and she gestured at it. “See?”

Troy sunk back into the leather seat of the [insert car model here], returning her glare with one of his own. “That’s not the point and you know it. The point is I’d rather not end up a red smear on the pavement because my wheel man fell asleep at the goddamn wheel.”

“Oh, is that all I-” Her mouth cracked open into another face-splitting yawn; she barely managed to hide it behind her hand. “-all I am to you? Your wheel man?”

“Four. And don’t give me that crap, you’re the one that called dibs on driving.”

“I only called dibs cause you drive like a grandma on a broken scooter.”

“You mean I drive the speed limit.”

Bridget ignored him. “Besides,” she said, swerving around a semi-truck sharp enough to make him grab at the handle above the passenger window, “I’ve got places to be after this. Julius called me about a-” she let out another yawn. “-about a storage place, said the Rollerz keep their best wheels there.”

A smirk crossed Troy’s face. He waited until Bridget’s attention was on him before he held up five fingers and wiggled them. It was worth it to see the way her eyebrows dropped into a sharp V before she jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t you fucking say it.”

“Don’t need to say anything.”

The one finger swiftly flipped upward into giving him the bird as she returned her attention to the highway. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the highway this second,” she growled, though a smile playing at the corners of her lips undercut the hostile tone.

Troy chuckled, then settled back in his seat enough to look out the car window. Stilwater was a shithole on a good day, but the oranges, purples, and blues of sunset colored the world into something more palpable to take in. Light bounced off the towering buildings of Downtown, harsh edges and cold, reflective glass softening under the gentle touch of twilight. But you could only watch buildings whiz by for so long. His gaze, as it so often did in these rare quiet moments, returned to her.

As much as he bitched about it, there was one thing he didn’t mind about Bridget being the go-to driver. It allowed him time to just… take her in. Look openly, without other people seeing and giving him crap for being lovestruck. Without her giving him crap for being lovestruck, because even after the months they’ve been together she still shied away from open affection more often than not. She cuts the sentiment with a joke, or by teasing him, or some combination of both. He doesn’t mind it- he wonders sometimes if he’s a glutton for punishment, given his career path and choice of romantic partner, but he doesn’t mind being so. Not with her around.

So he looks at her. The way her eyelids keep fluttering slightly, only for her to stubbornly hold them back open. The dark circles he’d think were black eyes if they weren’t only on her lower eyelids. She’s tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, jiggling the leg not in charge of the pedals. Any motion to tell her body it isn’t time to sleep yet. He’d make a joke about looking in a mirror if seeing it didn’t bother him so much.

That was the downside of being undercover. You got real good at seeing things people tried to hide. He had to say something. He opened his mouth, and...

“For real, though. You look like shit. Have you slept at all?”

And of course something stupid came out. Miracle of miracles, she scoffed instead of chucking him onto the highway. “Bold move to question my sleeping habits. How many used coffee mugs are on your desk again?”

Troy chose to ignore her words. “Look man, just-” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “-go home. Take a shower or something. Get some food. You need a break, Bridge.”

Bridget’s face was impassive, staring straight forward as she shifted the car into the express lane. “Can’t. Julius-”

Enough of this. “Did he tell you to do it tonight?” he asked, cutting her off before she could restate whatever bullshit task Julius had given her to do on top of everything else he’d piled on her. For fuck’s sake, sometimes it felt like she was carrying the whole gang by herself in between the tasks Julius sent down the pipeline and the duties she’d taken on herself to perform.

The glare she gave him could melt permafrost. “No.”

“Then do it tomorrow when you’re fresh.”

“I’m fresh enough,” she bit out. “You’re worrying way too much-”

The words burst from his chest before he could vet them. “I’m worrying the right goddamned amount for someone watching a person he cares about take way more shit on than she needs to.”

Bridget’s eyes went wide, whatever she’d been about to say dying in her open mouth.

Troy ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if this is some macho attempt to prove yourself or some shit, but you don’t have to do this. Slow down. Take care of yourself. Just- please.”

She was quiet for several minutes, eyes locked on the road as she slowed to match the speed of traffic. He’d almost given up on getting a response before she spoke again. “I won’t go to the storage place tonight. It’s-” She swallowed. “It’s late. Rollerz’ll be getting the cars out for races by now, there’s bound to be way more hanging around than during the day.”

He knows those justifications. Her saying he’s right without saying it directly. When she spoke again, her voice was careful. “Got anything else going on later?”

Manila folders scattered across a coffee table, a rapidly growing pile of cigarette stubs as he figures out the best way to ruin his friend’s lives-

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

When Bridget had first joined the Saints, Troy had thought her unreadable. It was easier now to read her once he knew what to look for. Her rubbing her thumb against the side of her index finger- something self soothing. Bouncing her leg- buying time to think. The lift of her head to look at him directly- she was searching him, weighing his reaction. “Feel like staying over?”

Always. “If you want me to.”

The tension in Bridget’s shoulders dissipated, and she gave him a small smile. “Of course I do, that’s why I asked,” she replied, punching him in the arm. “Dumbass.”

===

Rain tapped an improv jazz rhythm on the glass of Bridget’s bedroom window, and Troy couldn’t sleep. Blame the cigarettes, the coffee, the crippling anxiety and paranoia. The cause ultimately didn’t matter, the effect was the digital clock on Bridget’s bedside table hit 2AM and he was no closer to falling asleep than he was when he originally lay down. Bridget, though. Bridget had been asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a moment of satisfying vindication.

He rolled over, resting a hand on her arm.

It was strange to see Bridget asleep. If Bridget was awake, she was moving- tapping her foot, shifting from side to side. She bounced her heels if a meeting went too long, rattling the table until he placed a hand on her thigh to get her to stop (among… other reasons). If she chose to talk, she talked with her whole body, her hands dancing in the air. Even when she was seated and still, a part of her still seemed to tremble with energy, anticipation and eagerness. Not now, though. Now she laid there, the rise and fall of her chest the only motion. Light drifted through the cracks in the blinds from the streetlight outside her window, resting softly on the freckles on her cheeks.

His hand traveled down her arm, into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hip bone. Bridget wasn’t a paper-thin waif by any stretch of the imagination, but without the bulk of her sweatshirt to fill out her usual silhouette, she looked… smaller. More vulnerable. Which was ridiculous, he’d seen what she could do with a gun- hell, forget a gun, he’d seen the havoc she created with her fists alone- but somehow. Somehow that veneer was stripped away in the hazy orange light of a half-dead lamppost bulb, and the only thing left was a tired twenty-one year old who needed a hell of a lot more sleep than she was getting.

Christ. She really was twenty-one, wasn’t she? The face she wore around the other Saints made her seem older than that. It was all harsh angles and stony silences, only a twitch of a smile or a slight furrow in her brow betraying the emotions running electric through her veins. The uncertainty there at the beginning had long since suffocated under a rap sheet he hated to tally up in his head. It was a thing with no remorse, and little room for mercy.

And yet that face was forgotten in her sleep. The ever present tension slackened, releasing that hardened shell and letting it fall away in favor of something softer. She denied the existence of that softness, but he knew. He was allowed to know, he realized, warmth settling in his chest at the thought. Of all people, she’d offered that gift to him.

And it’s a gift you’ll lose soon.

The thought cut a sharp line through the haze, frozen against the warmth of the moment. Troy stilled, his hand resting on her waist. Somewhere in between the light on her cheeks and the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, he’d forgotten what would be waiting for them. That as much as he tried to dodge and delay, the day Chief Monroe decided it was time to pull the plug on the Saints was coming sooner than later- and Bridget, ambitious and unknowing, was only hastening that end.

His sigh was frayed, thin and trailing off into nothing. This relationship was never going to last forever. He’d known that going in, had willingly condemned them both to heartbreak, but it hadn’t mattered then. That future had drowned in the affection in her gaze. The warmth of her laughter. The spark of her lips on his. But now…

Troy cupped Bridget’s cheek, pressing his forehead gently against hers as he closed his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered. He had to say it, just once. Even if she didn’t hear it- since she would never hear it- it needed to escape before it withered under his held tongue. It needed to exist, just for a moment, all his regrets pouring into that simple, weighted phrase.

At some point she’d wake up, either through him gently shaking her or her own merit. Either way she’d grouch at him for not waking her up sooner, blinking blearily at him in a hopelessly endearing way she’d punch him for if he ever mentioned it. She’d whip the covers off of both of them, laughing when he protests. Showers would follow, breakfast of some sort, and time would continue to march forward to that inevitable, heartbreaking point.

But that was a future they didn’t have to face yet. For now, they could stay like this- curling into each other, breath to breath and at peace.

For now, he’d save her a rude awakening.

#writers writes things #otp: troyget #oc: bridget summers #troy bradshaw #saints row

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murderousginger · 4 years ago

Text

Cherry Red

Cops & Robbers epilogue???

Warnings: They’re criminals, guys, they do bad things.

Word Count: 2,982

Song inspiration here

Warm rough fingertips danced along your bare back, stopping to trace along the horse tattooed upon your shoulder. The cool rings made you grip your champagne flute tighter as the hand -- which most certainly was not your husband's -- dipped from your shoulders down your exposed back to the indent above your waist.

"Backless dresses suit you much better than men's clothing, pet," his breath tickled your ear as he rounded you, his red beard unruly compared to his sharp black suit. "You lied to me those years ago. You are a Shelby."

"You ever hit me again, Mr. Solomons, and I'll gut you in front of God and Polly," you smiled as you tipped your glass to him, your wedding ring gleaming against the flute. "Keep that in mind tonight."

"I don't remember you being so brave those years ago," he squinted, looking over your dress. As his gaze followed the line of your body you cocked your hip, showing your leg through a slit in the gown. His eyes widened before snapping back to your face. "Pretty creature gained courage with a ring on her finger."

His hand lingered on your waist as his fingers played with the edge of your cherry red dress. You lifted your eyebrow at him but refused to move out of his grasp.

"You looked me in the eye far more when I was dressed as a man," you countered before finishing your glass in a gulp. "Perhaps my witchcraft only works on you when you're reminded of my body. You forget what you told me?"

"Which part, love?" He smirked as his free hand smoothed his beard.

You leaned forward and pressed your hand on his chest as you whispered into his ear.

"Funniest thing about pretty creatures, pet," you drawled, mimicking his accent. "The most colorful are usually the likeliest to kill you dead without warnin'."

You pulled back and looked around the room with bored eyes. You could see Arthur shooting glances your way as he conversed with a man, and John and Esme were at a table across the crowded ballroom. Esme wrangled their youngest and John's glare fixed on Alfie's arm. His fist was tight on the table as Esme drew his attention back to his family. Finn and Isaiah were both talking in a corner with the help, darting glances your way from time to time.

You raised your glass to a maid and nodded for her to bring her tray over. She smiled nervously and hastily cut through the crowd.

"Mrs. Shelby," she said, eyeing Alfie standing so close with his hand on your waist before her eyes snapped to yours.

"I'm bored of champagne," you monotoned. "Get me a whiskey, please, Dolly. Mr. Solomons? Would you rather rum? Gin?"

His eyes flashed and you felt his fingers flex on your side.

"Don't drink the stuff, meself," he said. "I suppose, when in hell, I'll have a whiskey."

"How courteous to fall to our level," you teased as the maid tittered away to fulfill your request.

"I've seen no white knight come to your rescue yet, pet," his cold rings pressed against your bare spine. "Why do I feel glares but no one has dared interrupt us? Where is my good friend Mr. Shelby?"

"I've no need for a good man, let alone a knight, Alfie," you smiled and raised your glass to the ballroom. "This is my dear husband's fundraiser. He's around somewhere talking old men out of their money and into his favor."

"Ay, Birmingham and London wasn't enough, he had to join parliament," he chuckled. "And his wife's scandalous attitude has gained more than one headline in the papers."

Alfie's hand raised to graze along your tattooed shoulder.

"You show you are marked so openly," he murmured. "Like a badge rather than an abomination."

"God never visited Small Heath," you laughed. "No need to gain favor of an absent father."

"Blasphemous with a smile," Alfie shook his head and pressed his lips into a tight line. "Perhaps you should be in men's clothes with the balls on you."

"Says the man with his hands on another's wife at a very public gala," you smiled curtly and squinted at him, as if assessing him and finding him wanting.

"How will the papers headline it?" Alfie said, leaning closer as if to tell a secret. "Another man touching the good politician Shelby's wild wife. Her bare back at that. Scandalous, innit love?"

You laughed loudly and threw your head back, running your fingers along the seam of his suspender inside his jacket. You felt him freeze under your touch as you pressed against him, taking in the spice of his cologne as heads turned to follow your laugh to its source.

"Aren't you a prominent beacon in the Jewish community, Mr. Solomons?" You pushed the words into his ear, velvet draping over him as your grin grew Cheshire-like. "I'm not the only one that can suffer a scandal, and I can promise a pious man will make more headlines than a Shelby."

The maid returned with a stiff 'ma'am' as she handed the whiskey glasses to you both. You murmured your thanks, sipped your drink as you deftly took a step away and turned to face your adversary.

You looked over his shoulder to see you had Polly's full attention, her scowl cutting you as your glance stuttered on her. She nodded once slowly as she glared daggers one more moment before returning to her conversation. The signal was loud and clear: behave.

Your eyes searched the ballroom again, finding John's jaw set as he held a toddler, his eyes squinting at yours in question. You winked at him, a smile curling on your lips that you tried to hide by the rim of the whiskey glass. He was not amused.

"Getting all your orders signed to you, love?" He chuckled. "Did you get in trouble with your family? Not as free as you'd like to think."

Alfie smiled wide, a wolf who realized he found a soft spot, and took a large gulp of his drink. He grimaced, clearing his throat as he frowned at the glass.

"I'll forgive you this once," you said, your attention returning to him. "So it won't interfere with our business."

"Business?" Alfie frowned. "You would never interfere with my business with Tommy."

"No, Alfie," your eyes hardened as Alfie's expression blanked. "I do mean our business."

"Alfie, old friend," a warm voice called from behind you as a familiar hand rested on your back. "I hope you didn't start business without me. Some of my guests require more attention and it becomes difficult to get away. I see you found (Y/N) to entertain you."

Alfie watched as Tommy came up beside you, all ease and familiarity as if it was instinct. His suit was crisp, every corner of his appearance perfect and every bit a politician, down to the fake turn of his lips. His fingers played with the fabric against the small of your back and goosebumps covered your skin as he talked with the increasingly agitated man in front of you.

"What do you mean she's in charge of your shipping business?" Alfie's voice had clipped, his games falling aside as his shock got the better of him.

"Exactly what he said," you smiled. "If you would like a piece of our shipping gin -- and possibly your rum -- to the Americas, you'll need to speak to me."

"Ah," Alfie said, tongue circling an eye tooth as he reassessed you in Tommy's arms. "So the soldier had become a general herself."

"More like a queen," Tommy said, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he pulled you into his side.

"Wouldn't the charity be better business for a woman to run?" Alfie frowned, squinting between you both.

"Lizzie is running the charity," you supplied, your fingers running along Tommy's arm that stretched along your middle. "We're a modern company, Mr. Solomons. Multiple women can run multiple pieces."

"I was hoping to introduce you two, make the transition smoother," Tommy said as his jaw ticked. "But you seem to have shot straight for (Y/N) before I could."

"We've met, we did," Alfie said as he twisted his beard in his hand. "Had a nice little discussion all those years ago, didn't we pet? Thought it only proper to give her a hello while you were busy."

Tommy's face was blank, his eyes half lidded as if bored. If anyone could shut Alfie Solomons' erratic energy down, it was Tommy Shelby and his nature of being completely still. Looking between the men was like looking between fire and ice. Both were dangerous, conniving, and ambitious to a fault.

Alfie was loud, erratic, constantly flipping moods, expressions, energies, to keep everyone around him on their toes. You never knew when he would strike because he constantly tapped on walls for weaknesses. By the time he had done what he wished, no one flinched because it was old hat. You couldn't tell whick way was up or down by the time Alfie was done with you.

Tommy, on the other hand, preferred to be still, watchful, quiet. People often would see his blank face and -- unable to read an expression -- take whatever he said as truth. He would hold himself still until everyone forgot he was there and when he would strike there would be nothing but astonishment and dust in his wake. He was a ghost.

Tommy licked his lips, letting the air thicken between them before he unwrapped himself from your waist and took your hand. You placed your drink on a nearby table. His eyes instantly warmed as they left Alfie to look you up and down.

"Do you like this dress, Alfie?" Tommy asked as he twirled you slowly in front of the man, letting the long red fabric frame you. "I picked it out myself. I believe it's from Paris, right love?"

Alfie grunted, looking between you and Tommy with suspicion.

"It is," you said evenly, allowing him to spin you in front of the man like he was showing off a jewel in the light.

"Your taste has always been rich, Tom," Alfie squinted. "No doubt about that."

"It's made from a very fine silk, I believe," Tommy went on, ignoring the comment, his eyes dancing between your figure and Alfie's confused face.

"The thing about it is the cut," he went on, leaning toward Alfie as if conspiring. "My beautiful wife can't wear undergarments with it. Low back, that slit up the side, how the dress flows over her more like water than fabric. Very unfortunate, don't you think?"

Alfie's eyes widened as he eyed your body even closer. He reddened slightly as he finally made his way to your face to see your eyebrow cocked at him daringly, the smallest curl of your lips a mix of a snarl and a smile.

"Very unfortunate, indeed," Alfie mumbled. "Why are you telling me this, Tom?"

"Oh no reason at all," Tommy tilted his head and winked as he pulled you closer to him, his hand dropping yours to rest splayed on your hip.

"You're going to dance with my wife, Alfie, while I grab a smoke," Tommy said, the edge to his voice sharper than his locked jaw. "And you'll figure out the conditions for our joint alcohol smuggling effort during that dance."

Tommy's blue eyes burrowed into Alfie as he waited for an answer. Alfie nodded slowly and extended his hand toward you, a grimace on his face as you dipped your head and accepted his hand. His hand extended yours out as his other rested on your waist, flitting over your skin rather than holding. He was nervous like a clumsy child that was told to set the table with fine china tonight.

"Oh, and Alfie," Tommy called before Alfie could pull you too far away. You both looked back at him, but only you had a sparkle of mischief in your eye.

"She might cut you if your hands wander," Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as his chin and voice sank. "I'll shoot you in the fuckin' face."

You exhaled a sharp laugh as Alfie's hand on your waist all but hovered above you, his face white as a sheet as he pulled you away from your husband. Tommy gave a nod and moved within the crowd, finding a place next to Polly for a moment. You looked around the room for a moment before reading your eyes back to the uncomfortable man in front of you.

"I will, you know," you smiled as his mouth quirked. "Cut you."

"With what blade in that dress?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised," you said.

Alfie grunted and looked over your shoulder, no doubt looking for the positions of the Shelbys.

"Stop being grumpy, it's lame," you laughed as you rubbed his shoulder. "We have business to agree upon."

"Easy for you to say, pet," he mumbled. "Didn't realize I would be holding a bomb to me chest tonight over business."

"Isn't that the only way to do business?" You frowned. "I even wore red to alert you. I thought you knew better."

"Fuckin' should've," he breathed. "Alright, now, let's get to it then."

----

As the song ended, you and Alfie had agreed on a preliminary run of a limited amount of his rum going in your next shipment to America. If the numbers and shipment went well, you would ramp up within a fortnight.

"May I have this dance?" Tommy appeared, his hand outstretched and pushing the two of you away from each other.

"I believe we have amenable terms for now," Alfie bowed his head as he kissed your hand, in much better spirits than when the dance began. "I will leave my favorite cutthroats to go forth and ruin someone else's night with their fuckery. I do believe I need to return home and wash the sin from my clothes before it stains."

"Goodnight, Alfie," you said warmly as he easily transferred you to Tommy's side. "Safe travels home."

"Goodnight," Tommy said, all edge of his voice gone as his attention was only on you, his mouth dipped to kiss your shoulder.

Alfie looked between you two and exhaled a soft laugh before he turned away, shaking his head.

"Are we going to dance before you leave me to Polly to be yelled at, or was that just a way to cut short my time with your ally?" You murmured as his hand tickled your back.

"I can dance," he said as he kissed your neck and swept you into his arms.

You giggled as his hot breath tickled your ear and he pulled you across the hall.

"So Polly is unhappy with me," you laughed as you pulled back to look him in the eye.

Tommy sighed.

"You threatened to make a scene, love," he said as his eyes softened. "With Alfie of all people."

"I think she's more upset about the half a glass of whiskey I had than dealing with Alfie," you said, earning a confused look from Tommy. "Alfie was only trying to make me uncomfortable."

"You didn't flinch a bit," Tommy toned.

"Oh! You're jealous," you gasped. "Did Alfie Solomons upset my dear husband, king Tommy?"

"No one's to touch my wife but me," he said, roughly tugging you to the other side of a pillar as he pressed you against it in the shadow.

He lifted your chin with his finger as his knee pressed between your legs and his other hand found its way into the slit of your dress and squeezed your ass.

"Will you take me right here, Mr. Politician," you taunted, grinding a little against his knee as his eyes caught flame. "Need to prove your claim that boldly? Not enough to dangle me in front of your colleagues?"

"You're bored of the parties," he said as his head tilted and his hand wrapped around your throat, holding you against the pillar. "You aren't made for the pleasantries of the light."

"I'd much rather us in the dark," you tipped your chin up, your hands roaming up his chest and neck to pull him close.

"I hear you," he panted as your foreheads touched. You teased, your breath on his lips as you kept just out of reach. "But tonight is about what's best for this family."

"I agree," you smirked. "Our little one deserves a good life."

Tommy's mouth slacked and his hand dropped from your throat as you chuckled.

"S'why Polly's upset," you whispered into his open mouth. "The whiskey. She called it last week. John was in the kitchen. Why do you think your little brother had grown so protective over me again?"

You smiled, taunting as he stood frozen.

"Did you fear he was trying to claim me again?" Your hand traced his jaw before you closed his mouth. "I'm yours, Tommy Shelby, just like this child is."

"Well, Mrs. Shelby," his voice was hoarse as he pushed the words out, shoveling them like gravel. He cleared his throat as he licked his lips. "Perhaps we should retire for the night."

"And leave your fundraiser?" You asked, your brows raised.

It was not like him not to be the last one in the ballroom, talking to every last person as if to stuff his pockets with every cent and favor he could. You bit your lip as you watched the gears turn behind his soft eyes. He had completely melted against you.

"My poor pregnant wife must be exhausted from the stress of the night," he said evenly, his hand tickling your thigh. "And what sort of man would I be if not to take care of her?"

"What sort, indeed," you smiled as you kissed him softly.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #tommy shelby x reader #storytime with murderousginger #promptmurderousginger

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 12

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As the moon hung low in the sky, most of the clan was peacefully lounging around camp or grooming, full from the abundance of prey brought back during the afternoon. Meadowbreeze chattered excitedly with her mate Hazelnose, and Aspenfall was practice wrestling both Fallowpaw and Fawnpaw at once while Cloudrunner observed. It was agreed they’d be made warriors before the next quarter moon and the news had renewed energy in all three of them. Briarpaw sat with his mother and father, speaking quietly with the elders as Whitetooth regaled them with the story of his first newleaf celebration. Aside from the small group chosen for the dusk patrol, the clan was at peace.

Tallpaw however, paced restlessly in a circle around the camp, fluffing his thin fur up as much as he was able against the chilly night air. He earned a couple funny looks from the warriors returning from dusk patrol as he trotted back and forth. At the end of the patrol line he spotted Dawnstripe, padding alongside Appledawn. Tallpaw turned his course abruptly and bounded up to his mentor.

“So, do you think we could go out for battle training after sunrise?” He mewed.

She turned to him and cocked her head slightly. “You actually want to? I thought you’d want to relax today, you’ve earned a break, remember?”

“Yes I know, but I don’t want to fall behind.”

Appledawn laughed, “Oh Tallpaw, surely you're not going to lose all your skills by not training for one day?”

Tallpaw shuffled the soil beneath his paws awkwardly, “No--I know that, I just...I don’t want to take a break while every other cat in the clan is busy serving.”

Dawnstripe glanced at her friend and then back at her apprentice. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that. It is your day to do what you want, and if that’s what you want to do, we can go more in depth into battle training. But I’ve only just got back from a long patrol, so I’ll tell you what, meet me at the base of the dead tree once the sun has risen above the distant hills and we’ll start then.”

“Should I warm up before then? I could do laps in the gorse meadow.” Tallpaw asked anxiously.

“If you like, but don’t tire yourself out too much before we start.”

Briarpaw called a greeting to him as he bounded past out of the camp entrance. Tallpaw waved his tail in response as he passed. Sorry I don’t have time to chat right now…

The wind was particularly strong that morning with none of the sun's warmth to offset the chill. He flattened his ears against it as he wound his way around the hill to the gorse meadow. Start with three laps, break, do another set. As he raced, his mind emptied and he could for a moment only think of the grass brushing the tips of his paws, the wind rushing against his ears and whiskers, which brought some small relief. It was more than he usually did before training, but his paws were itching so much he wanted to run until he couldn’t feel the nagging guilt poking at the back of his head. The more it poked, the faster he moved his legs. I just feel like it’s not enough. I’ve got to push myself harder, I haven’t earned a rest yet!

After his first set he paused, his breath coming heavy. For a moment he was frustrated his body wouldn’t let him do another. As he caught his breath, he looked up to see in the distance a group of cats coming towards him. He tasted the air and scented Fennelpelt accompanied by Plumclaw, Crowfur and Woollycloud. He ducked into the grass. Woollycloud always wanted to have a conversation with him when he passed, asking him what he was up to, how his mother was, how his training was going, and Tallpaw didn’t feel like it right now. He didn’t feel like his training was coming along well enough to share.

“The tunnel was still in use when you were a warrior Fennelpelt, don’t you think it could be again?” Crowfur’s gruff voice asked.

“Perhaps it could,” Fennelpelt replied, “but it’s been left alone so long, I'm afraid the heavy snow and rain from the past seasons has weakened the walls. My advice would be to hold off on using it regularly until it’s had careful fixing and testing. Maybe make some new escape routes before trying to make it longer.” “I agree” Woollycloud said, “Sandstone’s plan is ambitious, but it’s not worth it to rush and risk accidents.”

“We must think of some way to repair it faster!” Plumclaw pressed. “Mistmouse told me she scented ShadowClan across the Thunderpath on the north side of our territory as well as the east side, and their normal patrols never go out that far! And there were strange scents of outsiders on the outskirts facing Mothermouth yesterday. They were too faint for us to be sure if they were ShadowClan, but they certainly weren’t WindClan.”

Crowfur growled “Great StarClan, if it’s rogues that’s just another thing to worry about on top of everything else! ShadowClan spies could be watching from anywhere, and we still don’t know where their hiding spots are. We need to explore all our options to keep up with them, if we don’t catch them in the act, Cedarstar will just deny it! If you ask me--”

Tallpaw couldn’t make out what they were saying anymore as they started down the hill towards camp. He poked his head out of the grass and looked north towards the edge of their land. There was the thin strip of woodland surrounding the north and east side of the moor, and passed that was where cats traveled to see Mothermouth, but there shouldn’t be any other clan cats on that northern border. Others had been scented there just yesterday...? Tallpaw remembered with a start of the shape and flash of ginger fur he thought he saw in the woods before getting distracted by the festivities and the hunt. Was it a trespasser after all? He cursed himself for not paying closer attention at the time.

Now that the idea had entered his head, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He needed to find out if there was any scent around the spot he had seen the shape. I should get Dawnstripe first...or I could just tell Woollycloud.

But what if it was nothing? What if he had imagined it? He didn’t want to get everyone worked up over nothing when they were already on edge. Well...it really wasn’t too far to that border. If he just looked quickly, he would know, and it wouldn’t have to eat at him anymore. And even if there is someone there, I'm not a weakling! I can take care of myself!

Telling himself that didn’t get rid of the nervous energy crackling up the fur along his spine, but right now, Tallpaw would rather drop dead than admit to himself he’d been stopped by his stupid cowardice. Warriors don’t show fear, when things look dangerous they charge onward and take risks. He repeated Sandstone’s words to himself, and he continued to repeat it the whole way there, hoping if he did it enough, he would believe it a bit more. It wasn’t working very well.

The pale birch trees loomed above him. Tallpaw hadn’t been so near this woodland stretch before, since there was little need to patrol it. He racked his brain trying to remember where he had been looking when he saw the blur of fur vanish into the bushes. The closed off spaces in the thick undergrowth surrounded by the trees suddenly seemed very daunting, as if some creature could leap out of them at any moment, and Tallpaw’s feet would be too tangled in brambles to get out of the way.

“Stop thinking like that mouse-heart.” He growled to himself. At last he recognized two oddly leaning trees he swore he recalled seeing before. It was somewhere just off to the right of here… He opened his jaws to taste the air. Damp heather. A mouse had scurried by here some time ago. Deer droppings. Nothing out of the--

He froze. There was something different. An unexpected unfamiliar tang and it hit the roof of his mouth. It was certainly cat, but not a cat he knew at all. He froze in place, the fur on his spine bristling even more. Was it ShadowClan after all? No...no, there was none of the musty stench he’d scented under the Thunderpath. It was an incredibly strange scent. Sweet in a way. And recent. Very recent.

Go back! A voice in the back of his head cried out. But wasn’t he a warrior? Why should he be made afraid in his own territory? “I’m not afraid of loners. I’ve been trained to fight! Well...not very much but...more than any mangy rogue!” he argued quietly to himself.

Perhaps...he should just look? Just a little closer. To have a better idea of what to report. More so than his fear, there was a fierce feeling of curiosity. He’d never even seen a cat outside of the clans before. And just think of the story I could bring back if I chased away an intruder all by myself! Surely that’s more impressive than being a fast runner. Firmly ignoring the part of himself insisting what a very bad idea this was, he pressed on. One paw at a time. The scent couldn’t even be a full day old. There was only one, so whoever it was was all alone.

Something shifted in the bushes. Tallpaw whipped around, his ears pinned up, his eyes wide, one unsheathed paw raised defensively. Was that movement he saw? Legs shaking slightly, he crept forward, cautious and silent. Just beyond the next tree, he heard something rustling the leaves. A stray twig was flung to the side. Go back! Go back and get a warrior! The little voice screeched. But he refused to run away, this was his territory and he was not weak.

Another leaf was tossed aside, followed by a frustrated grunt. Were they digging? What in StarClan’s name...? Tallpaw was crouched behind the tree, trying to figure out what exactly he should do. If he was lucky, they’d just run away as soon as they knew they were caught. Suddenly the noises stopped. Had he been detected? His heart began hammering, but it was now or never.

Tallpaw sprang from behind the tree with a furious screech. He’d meant to say something commanding, or intimidating, something that would let the mange ball know they were talking to a real warrior cat and they should be very afraid. Unfortunately, he’d been spurred to leaping so suddenly that his prepared phrases had gotten all mixed up and left his mind entirely.

What he’d wanted to say was “You're trespassing! These moors belong to WindClan alone! Remove yourself at once, or else!”, but instead what came out of his mouth was a terribly loud and panic-tinged “trrRRAAAAAA-AHHHH!”

He was met with an almost equally loud scream in return. There was a furry orange tom halfway concealed in the undergrowth with puffed up fur and eyes huge with alarm. Tallpaw faced him with his back arched, every fur standing on end, and the two cats stared at each other like that for an uncomfortably silent few seconds while Tallpaw desperately wracked his brain for what he was supposed to say next. At last the other cat broke the silence. “Why are you screaming at me!?” he cried in a very bewildered, but annoyingly not intimidated, voice.

Tallpaw was still trying to collect his scattered thoughts. “I’m! I-I’m, uhmm. You--you are--upon WindClan land, and...Your...Your paws are on the grass--t-this grass is forbidden because it’s ours! Remove them! Your paws, I mean. Remove all of them! At once!”

“My...my paws are...wait, could you start over?”

“No!” Tallpaw yowled in frustration “Just be gone! Or else!”

“Well,” mewed the tom innocently, “see, I would be happy to of course, I really would, but I seem to um. I seem to be a little stuck.”

“What do you mean stuck?” Tallpaw hissed.

The tom strained his neck and Tallpaw noticed that he was crouched in the undergrowth because a thick mass of brambles was snared through his thick orange fur and caught at his neck.

Tallpaw was at a loss again. He needed to get rid of the intruder. He was supposed to attack intruders. But the intruder couldn’t go away if he couldn’t move. The tom clawed uselessly at the ground trying to pull himself out of the thicket.

“Every time I pull I get poked by thorns!” he whined.

This is embarrassing... Tallpaw thought. Then with a defeated sigh, he padded cautiously towards the “invader.”

“Alright stop moving, I can’t chase you away if you can’t even run.”

“That’s true. My name’s Jake by the way, what’s yours?”

“I don’t care, and none of your business.”

“That’s a funny name.”

Tallpaw ignored him and sniffed at where the thickest bramble was stuck fast on something soft and sturdy around Jake’s neck. It was green like plants but it smelled incredibly odd, a scent he couldn’t describe with anything he knew.

After a lot of awkward tugging and gnawing and exasperated “will you please stop fidgeting” as Tallpaw tore the mass of brambles away. Part of the soft green thing tugged free from Jake and hung ensnared in the thorns. Jake wiggled and grunted and pulled himself out of the undergrowth, leaving a couple tufts of fur behind as well. A long bramble tendril still tangled in his thick neck ruff stuck up in a ridiculous way.

“Thanks a bunch, I really owe you one!”

“I couldn’t bite through the rest of that soft...vine thing around your neck. That’s what everything was stuck on.” Tallpaw licked his muzzle, wincing a bit at where the thorns had pricked his tongue.

“Oh that’s just my collar. Looks like I lost my scarf to the thorns though...what rotten luck.”

“You’re what?”

“My collar, the housefolk gave it to me--”

It clicked for Tallpaw then and he sprang back in alarm. “Y-you’re one of those kittypets aren’t you? Those twoleg captives!”

“Kitty-pet?” he laughed “That almost sounds cute. Well I'm not a stray if that’s what you mean, but I do get pet a lot? It feels nice.”

He remembered Dawnstripe telling him kittypets were worse than loners in a way, but in a pitiful way. Most of them didn’t even know they were prisoners. I could fight a soft house cat easily-- oh right. He was supposed to fight him away now.

As the kittypet gave his fur another shake and clammered fully out of the bramble filled undergrowth, Tallpaw got a better look at him. Jake was a lot younger than he’d initially thought, barely apprentice age, if even. He was sturdy and stout, and his plush fluffy fur was a startling bright ginger, brighter than he’d ever seen on a cat before. Vivid pine green eyes blinked at him amiably from a round face with a goofy grin that Tallpaw couldn’t help feeling was rather inappropriate considering the situation he was in.

Jake suddenly gasped, “I know you! I saw you running yesterday! You really are one of those wild clan cats aren’t you?”

Tallpaw was taken aback by the bubbly excitement in Jake’s voice. “Well...yes I am. Were you spying on us?”

“Not on purpose, I was just wandering, and I heard a lot of cats talking and then I saw you all running around faster than I’d ever seen anything run, and you did this amazing leap and bounced right over this other cat and I thought you couldn’t even be real, it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life!”

Tallpaw felt his fur grow a bit hot as he blushed at Jake’s gushing. Surely it wasn’t all that amazing, but Jake was still babbling.

“I’ve heard so many incredible things about you clan cats! My siblings used to say you’re not even real but I knew better, I heard you have magic powers! Is it true you can fight foxes? Can you really control the weather? My mother heard you could cut down trees with a swipe of your claws and catch eagles out of the sky in a leap and--”

“Slow down, I have no idea what you're saying!” Tallpaw wanted to sound stern but he couldn’t help but be a bit flattered Jake thought so highly of him.

Jake came right up to him and sniffed him excitedly and Tallpaw was too stunned to back off. “I’m just so thrilled to meet an actual wild cat! I’ve wanted to my whole life, wow you smell just like heather flowers--”

“Jake, do twolegs teach you about personal space?”

“No, why?”

“Never mind. Look, I only said I would get you out of the brambles, and I’ve done that so…”

Jake cocked his head “So?”

Tallpaw looked down at his claws, suddenly feeling a little awkward ‘Well I...I’m supposed to fight you and chase you off now.”

“You have to fight me?”

“It’s my duty, warriors are supposed to fend off all trespassers.”

Jake nodded solemnly. “Ah...That makes sense. It is your duty after all. It’s ok, I understand. Here, hit me.” He turned his cheek to Tallpaw.

“You’re...going to let me hit you?”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble! You have to at least try. Besides, if I had a scar from a battle with a wild cat, that would actually make a pretty cool story.”

“Um...alright. Here goes.” Tallpaw raised his unsheathed claws hesitantly.

“Wait!” Jake cried.

“What?”

“Is it going to hurt?”

Tallpaw blinked “is it going to hurt if I claw your face? Yes, I would think so!”

“Oh… Well could you maybe not do it so hard?”

“That’s not...I’m sure this isn’t how it’s supposed to be done.”

“No no, you're right, I’m tough, I can handle it. Then you can tell your clan mates you did your job.”

Tallpaw sighed in defeat and dropped back onto four paws. “This isn’t right at all. I can’t just hit you if you’re not going to hit me back!”

“But wouldn’t that hurt you?”

“Yes but--ugh! What sort of cat are you?”

“I guess the sort that doesn’t fight very much. I don’t really know how fights are supposed to go.”

“I... don’t really know either…” Tallpaw admitted. He shook his head and sat down. This couldn’t be right. Jake was hardly more than a kitten. Maybe not exactly a kitten, but close to one...and the Warrior Code does say to have mercy for the helpless...Does he count as helpless? He looked Jake over with the brambles still sticking out of his fur and big green eyes still bright with excited curiosity. Er...probably? Tallpaw sighed in defeat. He wouldn’t be chasing off his first intruder today.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Tallpaw asked, “There’s no twolegs around here.”

“Twolegs?”

“Those terrible tall hairless creatures that keep you prisoner!”

“Oh! You’re talking about the other housefolk.”

Tallpaw curled his lip, “I don’t care what you call them. All our elders say they’ve given up the right to be treated with respect by us. They tell stories about horrible things they’ve done, they are barely like animals at all. They hurt others, but can’t be killed themselves, they control monsters that don’t even smell alive. Everywhere they go becomes inhospitable to free animals!”

“But you aren’t like other wild animals you know. You’re a cat! They like cats. They wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I don’t care what they like! They want to control us, and we won’t let them.”

Jake stared at him blankly. “I’ve never heard of anything like that, and I’ve lived with the housefolk on the farm all my life. Maybe you’ve just met bad ones? I’m sure some are bad, but some cats are probably bad too. These ones at the farm are nice, I haven’t even lived with other cats in a long time since my family went separate ways.”

“They’ve got you tied up in a collar that’s made you stuck here! You could have died!” Tallpaw argued. How could Jake not see how he’d been brainwashed?

“I never minded the collar, I forget it’s even there. I just ran off and got tangled.” Jake replied simply

“But how long have you been stuck here?”

“Since um… a day ago?” Jake looked down and absent mindedly batted at a leaf, suddenly looking a little sad. “Since my mother and littermates left the barn, I get bored when there’s no one around and so I started wandering. I wondered if I could follow the car that one of my brothers left in to go visit him, so I started down the road, but then I got distracted because I saw this really neat bird and before I knew it, I was completely lost. And then I got stuck in this bush yesterday and I thought I would starve to death until you came along! Speaking of which...how do you get food out here?”

Tallpaw had no idea what to say. This absolutely absurd cat just shows up out of nowhere, and what was he supposed to do with them now? He didn’t know where this barn was, and it was forbidden to go so far anyway. Jake couldn’t stay so near their territory, but if he went without food for too long before he could find his way back, he’d starve. If the warrior code says to have mercy…

“I’m afraid I might regret this but...wait here for a moment.” Tallpaw said.

He ducked away and padded off into the treeline. He would catch something for Jake, just one small thing. And then he’d catch another small thing to take back to make up for it. It’s not clan prey if it comes from past the border, right? There must be some mice or voles around here.

Luckily StarClan seemed to be on his side as it took very little time for him to scent a vole. Stalking in thick woodland was very awkward for Tallpaw, but the plump little creature looked like it didn’t have to do very much running in its day to day life. It almost spotted him but before it could turn, Tallpaw sprang and killed it quickly with a sharp bite. He shook the kicked up leaves from his pelt and pulled himself out of the prickly undergrowth. It was a wonder ShadowClan and ThunderClan could enjoy hunting like that, the forest felt so cramped and bracken kept whapping him in the face. He returned with the vole as quickly as he could to where he had left Jake, and found the kittypet staring up a tree at a perched robin.

His eyes widened when he saw Tallpaw. “Did you just catch that? That was so fast! I’ve chased birds and mice before but I never managed to catch them, you’re really something, uh...Mr. Warrior.”

Tallpaw rolled his eyes as he dropped the vole “I’m not actually a warrior yet. But... I suppose I didn’t tell you my name did I?”

“You didn’t!” Jake grinned “But I thought it would be rude to ask again.”

“It’s Tallpaw”

“Tall-Paw?” Jake looked down at Tallpaw’s feet doubtfully. “That’s somehow an even funnier name.”

“It will be Talltail one day, when I get my full title. My father chose the name for me with that in mind.”

And he intended it to be a name for a tunneler… No, now was not the time to be agonizing over that. He rushed to change the subject before Jake could inquire about what was wrong. “Nevermind that. This is for you so you don’t starve to death.”

“I’ve always wanted to know what furry creatures tasted like--but...are you sure you won’t get in trouble? I am trespassing, even though it was an accident.”

“I think it’s alright...It technically was just off WindClan territory. And the warrior code teaches us to be merciful. Even to silly kittypets. The clan will probably be glad to hear the strange scent in these woods isn’t a dangerous cat. You haven’t seen any other cats, right?” Tallpaw asked.

Jake hummed in thought, “I saw all you yesterday...and another little group walking around the moor not long before you showed up. They were too far away to hear me.”

Tallpaw narrowed his eyes. The dawn patrol shouldn’t have gotten to this part of the territory yet, “Did those cats look like they belonged here?”

“I...don’t know how a cat looks like they belong here. I couldn’t see them very well. One was a fluffy white cat with big dark spots, and I couldn’t tell the rest of them.”

Tallpaw’s fur prickled. The only white cat with dark patches other than himself in the clan was Palebird, and Tallpaw knew for a fact she was neither fluffy nor going out on dawn patrols right now. He looked suspiciously over his shoulder at the moor as if expecting to see someone there, watching. It was possible Jake was mistaken...Maybe it was just Woollycloud?

“Well...if you see any other cats, just don’t talk to any of them. They could be dangerous.” Tallpaw said.

Jake shrugged and began to eat Tallpaw’s catch gratefully, and a bit awkwardly as he chewed around the fur. Tallpaw reminded him that you don’t actually have to swallow the fur. Light began to filter down through the tree branches and Tallpaw realized that the sun had very nearly risen over the hills. He was supposed to be meeting Dawnstripe now.

“Oh no...I’ve been here too long! I have to get going!”

Jake looked up, and Tallpaw was surprised to see his eyes glimmer with sadness

“You’re leaving? Already? But I wanted to ask you so many more questions! And I still don’t really know where I am...”

“I must meet my mentor. Listen...You just make sure you don’t go farther past this treeline. The patrols probably won’t notice you, but they might not be as nice as me. And don’t talk to any strange cats, especially those others you saw. If they were other outsiders, they could be more dangerous to you than my clanmates.”

“Will I see you again?” Jake asked.

“Well...maybe. I’ll try. But you should just try to retrace your steps to your own territory. Other predators don’t often come near clan land so there shouldn’t be too much danger in these woods.” Tallpaw dipped his head awkwardly out of habit, then remembered he shouldn’t do that when parting with a kittypet, but it was too late now. He turned and leaped over the bushes back onto the moor. Stars, I hope I'm not late after bothering Dawnstripe for such early training…

He wasn’t sure why he had told Jake that he’d try to see him again. That was the last thing he should be doing. But he couldn’t help feeling sorry for the lost kittypet. Even though Tallpaw didn’t look back, the funny orange tom was still on his mind. What a strange morning…what a strange cat! Who likes twolegs? And didn’t he know he shouldn't be so friendly to threatening strangers? Jake hadn’t looked worried or scared even once.

And he asked way too many questions! But still...he was nice. And the admiration in his eyes had been flattering, even if he was clearly easily impressed. Maybe I should go back later. Make sure he found his way home. Just to be sure. Can’t have trespassers hanging around forever after all.

But something still weighed on his mind. So Jake wasn’t one of the dangerous trespassers they had to be on alert for. But Mistmouse had supposedly scented more than one outsider on this border. And what if it hadn’t been Woollycloud that Jake saw? A tunneler patrol didn’t have much need to be on the northern border after all. Were there more cats out here after all that he had missed?

chapter list / previous / next

#FRU12 #chapter 12 #FINALLY THIS CHAPTER #ive been waiting so long to post this chapter

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alicemitch09writes · 4 years ago

Text

the catastrophic history of us

PAIRING: ryoumen sukuna x reader

SUMMARY: This is a story of two people - one was destined to see all while the other was destined to be all-powerful.

They came from different factions of society, though not entirely different if you compare a humble hut versus the slums.

This is a love story.

But it is not a happy one.

A/N: This is a continuation and sort of prequel to 'written in the stars' which gives light on why exactly Sukuna killed the reader and what he meant by 'waited a thousand years for this'. It's been in my head for a while and was an idea I wanted to try.

From what I've researched, Ryoumen Sukuna is said to hail from royalty while some he was just there, so I kinda wanna explore more on his background and ended up crafting my own. I'm sorry if it's kinda cliche. I ended up using the already existing lore about him, but added a bit of my own to fit the story and the narrative I want.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

This is a story of two people - one was destined to see all while the other was destined to be all-powerful.

They came from different factions of society, though not entirely different if you compare a humble hut versus a grandiose palace, a benevolent being versus a power-hungry one, one who dances with the mystic arts versus one who challenges the fates, one royal highness and his royal spiritual advisor, - two very different beings destined to meet, destined to fall together, destined to be together.

This is a love story.

But it is not a happy one.

This is a story of two star-crossed lovers.

But again, to reiterate, this is not a happy story. There is no happy ending here.

Legends speak of a name, so feared and great that just the mention of it sent shivers down the spines of many – young, old, human, curses.

Just the mention of his name was akin to devastation and disaster, killing all forms of life regardless of status.

Ryoumen Sukuna.

Also known as ‘King of Curses’.

Call his name, and you are invoking yourself to a life of damnation, of no return, of death.

However, once upon a time, Ryoumen Sukuna was once a simple man.

A prince to be exact, son to the Great Emperor, heir to the throne, general commander of the royal army, and quite possibly, the strongest warrior in the land.

Once upon a time, Ryoumen Sukuna was a man of great power and privilege.

He could take soldiers with a swift blow of his sword, could conquer lands in a day, with only a swagger down the road that could bring the mightiest men quaking, could overpower just about anyone with only his presence - his menacing and great presence.

Wise beyond his years, versatile in combat, cynical, ambitious, and wicked – these were the traits of the soon-to-be Emperor? How unsettling. The kingdom would no sooner meet its demise and burn into flames than to shine brightly with a ruler with blood and warfare on his mind.

Many had thought so as well, yet did little.

For what can they do against someone who can promise dominion and power? They can all but kneel and acquiesce to his bidding.

He did possess a younger twin brother, but compared to his brother, he was passable at best. The brother doesn't talk much, says very little, but paid close attention to his surroundings, his companions, even to his older brother, whom he admired greatly.

It was sometime during his time as a prince when fate decided to play their hand.

But no one saw it coming.

Save for one.

The Emperor’s royal spiritual adviser, the kingdom’s revered onmyouji known only by the name (Y/N).

"That's quite the look on your pretty face, (Y/N)."

Sighing, the (h/c)-haired woman ever so carefully dipped her brush into the ink well before continuing her writing.

"Oya? No wisecracks this time?" the voice drew near, she could feel his hot breath beside her ear. "Is that any way to speak to your future king?"

Unfazed, she dipped her brush into the well again, careful strokes bleeding into the paper. "Truly not worth his royal highness' time if I even breathe or say a word."

Even without looking, she knows he's smirking. He knows he got what he wanted, ever the child.

Silence filled in. She, continuing on with her scrolls, and he, lazily perched himself awfully close to her side, sliding his gaze from her eyes, her face, to her kimono, to her nimble fingers.

From the first moment he laid eyes on her, he was fascinated by her very being. More so, when she revealed that she was to be the royal onmyouji with the ability to see all.

Technically, her position was better suited for a man, especially a man from a renowned jujutsu family – for trivial reasons.

However, no man could ever compete with one with an all-seeing eye, with impressive control of her cursed energy other than this woman, this strange woman.

No one else but her.

He would like to think that he became a man no long sooner after their first verbal spat, after their second introduction – having differing ideals and morals, never backing from the other despite their status. He and his twin had just turned 18, a prime age for the king to be. It was what drew them together in the first place.

From the moment their eyes met, he had unwillingly declared this fascinating woman as his and only his.

When she was finished writing, just as she laid her brush aside, a hand slammed on the table. She didn’t flinch, even as the man effortlessly picking her up into his arms. "Surely you must be bored from all that gibberish writing, eh?"

Allowing herself a genial smile, (e/c) eyes alit with life, she draped her arms around his strong shoulders.

"Must I remind you time and time again that they're readings?" Fingers slipped and carded through his locks, grabbing tufts of hair playfully. Tilting her head, she used her free hand to ghost over his strong jawline. “Your great kingdom would crumble would it not be for said readings. Lives would be lost. Blood will be shed. Your name tarnished and damned-”

"Blah, blah, blah, is all I can hear you say," pushing her against the wall, he welcomed himself between her legs, drawing himself ever so close to her. “Don’t you ever get tired of spouting bullshit?”

“Surely you would know,” she gasped as something hard pressed against her core. “that’s all your mouth is good for: running your filthy mouth.”

He met her smirk with his, hot breath fanning hers. “And here I thought you’d be this docile diviner.” Scoffing, he drew close. “Thank fuck I was wrong.”

Hot lips pressed against hers, just as the ink dried out and the shadows danced in the dark.

"We order you to join forces with us destroy Ryoumen Sukuna."

"I refuse."

Even she can't deny that the man she loved was a danger to everyone, probably to all of humanity. He was quick to be enamored with power, sadistic even in his means to achieve greater feats and exploit his foes.

Eventually, she saw how the man she came to love drastically turned into the cynical, malevolent King of Curses he was.

Mad with power, ambition, and glory, in order to achieve all and more he sought out the dark mystics that made him murder his younger twin brother granting him his grotesque figure - two faces, added appendages, and dark marks littering his body.

It started with a vision. Then came the prophecy.

Overnight, a brother was murdered in cold blood by his own, through his blood spawned the King of Curses.

Many months were soon bathed in more blood as he sought nothing more but destruction and chaos,

In the end, she knew what she had to do, what must be done, what must happen, what was foretold – even if it ends up breaking her heart.

"Could you do it?"

"...I have no choice."

This is it, she thought. The end.

The end of the beginning.

Fire licked throughout the field, soot rising from the ashes, craters, devastation lurked wherever the eye could see. There was even the occasional ice covered in blood, sometimes encasing

It had been a long, treacherous, arborous, and exhausting battle – sorcerers and Imperial soldiers against fellow sorcerers and curses.

Jujutsu sorcerers – especially the high-ranking ones from esteemed clans, set aside their petty differences for this one battle, to put down the King of Curses.

Ryoumen Sukuna.

It was a hard-earned battle, as Ryoumen Sukuna had with him a rather interesting set of warriors to fend off against them.

But finally, they got him.

In the middle of all this madness and bloodshed, a victor was finally declared.

And it wasn’t him.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?" He screamed, binding spells forcing him to his knees, his whole body weakened and paralyzed by countless battles and countless spells against him. “(Y/N)!? HOW COULD YOU!?”

She forced herself to hold him down as the sorcerers around her continued their spells.

Amidst it all - the undeniable pain, the humiliation of being pinned, the utter betrayal - Ryoumen Sukuna turned to her and only her, red eyes burning her very being, as though ready to incinerate and devour her on the spot.

At the front line, that’s where she was to be – supposed to be, as she was their leverage to get close to the King of Curses.

She was leverage at best, the one thing that can keep Ryoumen Sukuna down - despite the countless claims that no one and nothing can do so.

"In this life, know that you were always the man I hold closest to my heart, the warmth on a cold winter's day, the joy from a day's tiresome work. There is no one but you, Ryoumen Sukuna," she was openly crying now, uncaring of anyone and anything. "But in this life, we cannot be."

The spell had been cast, paralyzing Sukuna, allowing the rest of the jujutsu sorcerers to attack.

With the final blow, she poured a bit of herself into her final, most powerful spell. Sealing him and vaporizing any memory of her in it, emptying his being until he was but an empty husk.

"YOU BITCH! YOU LIED TO ME!" Despite being in constant pain, his body slowly reddening and wax appearing all over, he found it in himself to spout angrily at her. "WAS EVERYTHING A LIE!?"

Memories upon memories - of their first meeting, their first verbal spat, their next meeting, him cornering into a corner, of their first kiss, of their first night, of their many nights, of promises under the sheets, of eyes searching, of eyes yearning, of eyes hurting - voided one after the other.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU DEAD, YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He doesn't mean it, she tells herself, adding more spells that caused him to scream in even more pain.

"Y-YOU FUCKING BITCH! I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!" His eyes were blank, regarding her with all the hatred man could possess. "YOU'LL BE THE FIRST PERSON I KILL THE MOMENT I GET BACK!" choking on blood, he feels himself weaken. "I SWEAR IT! I'LL KILL YOU THE FIRST MOMENT I GET!"

A sob escaped her, as much as she tried to swallow it down. To no avail, she cannot fake her remorse, her pain. She knew it was the right thing to do, for the betterment of all – humans and sorcerers, but it cost her so much sorrow and pain.

"Nothing is a lie," she croaked, feeling the last of her energy leave her, tearfully gazing into the eyes of her beloved. "But I have to say goodbye."

And just like that, the King of Curses was no more.

And when the fighting was over, the Seer vanished without a trace.

It came abruptly.

Without warning, without a sound, without a whisper, without a call.

The end of the beginning.

Of when fate decided to try its hand with life, changing the course of all.

For a thousand years ago, the jujutsu society was at its high boasting about great families within their ranks and a seer to guide them all.

The seer, who were specialists in the mystics and great beyond, who helped build empires, defend against curses, win wars - the great seer revered, respected, and treasured.

Alas, this seer fled, vanished, and doomed the jujutsu society.

For without her visions, how can the sorcerers ever know of the truth and lies that the future holds, to protect them from whatever threatens them? Of the corruption that would soon waste them away? Their arrogance and overdependency on her visions became their downfall, yet few could actually attest to that.

The jujutsu world was a strange, fickle, archaic, and destructive kind with an equally disturbing system. A system unwilling to change, unwilling to adapt, willing only to lead by example.

After her disappearance, they were left with crumbs to pick up, on where she'd be for their next life - for without her visions, how would they be able to secure safety for themselves?

(how selfish of them)

Lo and behold, a thousand years later, and she would appear again, outside of Japan and born half a Gojo! What tremendous luck they have!

Without wasting another second, they sent their best sorcerers to abduct the child and took her by force from her mother, bringing her all the way to Japan.

Only they could have their hands on this seer, one they've waited for thousands for years, one who remains theirs, rightfully theirs, one who has to atone for her sins of leaving the jujutsu society vulnerable all those years ago.

Yes, this child must bear the sins of her ancestors, must live a life for the future of the jujutsu sorcerers.

She is theirs.

Theirs and theirs alone!

But alas, Gojo Satoru caught wind of the other Gojo, singlehandedly took her from them and took her under his care.

How dare he!

So long as he was alive, no way would they ever get their hands on the seer, the great diviner, the all-seeing eye!

How dare he!

Gojo Satoru who manages to effortlessly insert himself in situations he shouldn't be, halting or stopping decisions entirely, establishing his presence as the strongest sorcerer - a title that many of them cannot deny, with much disdain, he, who is without a shred of doubt, a threat.

The Gojo seer continued to live her life, foolishly and blissfully unaware of her true value. Foolish little girl!

The past and present converged into one another, tightly wounding and bounding, meshing and mixing in between the seems, for a future nobody knows, a future nobody is prepared for, but a future nonetheless for all.

However, unbeknownst to all - even to the jujutsu higher-ups, the Great Gojo Satoru, and his beloved little sister, the future in store was not kind. No.

It's as though the past comes back to haunt, to call out for sins to be repented.

Strange as it seems, it all went according to plan - Gojo Satoru finding out about his sister, Fushiguro Megumi sent to Sendai, Miyagi to fetch a cursed object and meeting Itadori Yuuji, Itadori Yuuji ingesting said cursed object and hosting Ryoumen Sukuna, reviving the King of Curses after a thousand years. Yes. Marvelous. All according to plan.

The characters were set, ties looming into each other. Glorious.

It was inevitable, that these characters had special ties connecting them with each other, keeping their lives intertwined, for such was the plan for the grander scheme of things.

There was nothing.

A sea of nothing.

Endless nothing.

It went on and on and on and on and on and on.

It was a nothing that comforting, a nothing where nothing existed, a nothing where nothing was felt.

It was a nothing with that - nothing.

The perfect word for it would be void, however, voids can still have something in them.

And there was red.

A field of red spread across, going on forever and ever and ever.

Curious, she got to her knees to inspect. A flower, it was a red flower with six umbels and a long stamen, blooming outward, as though seeking life. Fingering through its petals, her eyes followed along millions of them spread.

Suddenly, a cold chill ran down her. For some reason, she looked up, meeting nothing.

And yet, she remembered the feeling dwelling in her in a sea of nothing.

Yes, she remembered this feeling.

She knows that feeling.

"Where am I?" a voice cut through the nothing.

In front of her stood someone who looked exactly like her, except, one pair of her eyes had the trademark Six Eyes of the Gojo clan, there was a streak of white running down the right side of her hair, and she was dressed in clothing much different from hers.

Recognition fell upon her, blinking calmly as a faint smile graced her lips.

“Who are you?” asked the girl.

Her smile turned sad as she approached, crushing the flowers under her feet.

The same recognition fell unto her mismatched eyes, but probably not the same kind of recognition she had.

With the gentleness akin to a mother, she eyed the girl before her.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her voice echoing in the dark. “I’m sorry to have cursed you – all of you,” confusion crosses her face, it hurts her even more. “to have you all carry my burden." The red all around them seemed to glow, a vibrant, blinding red. "I’m sorry.”

Confusion continued to riddle her features, which makes this meeting just more bittersweet.

And then came rain, pouring down on them.

It washed over them, over the flowers.

And then nothing.

Come a thousand years later, and there they were.

A promise foretold, enacted finally.

He, a man resurrected from the dead, free from the curses that kept him away, taking what was rightfully his with her beating heart in his.

And she, a shell of a woman in the form of her now empty descendent.

At last, he had his comeuppance, at last, he got his revenge.

As he devoured her heart, feeling the remaining pieces of his powers return, as did the memories. What a cruel twist of fate.

Suddenly, his mind felt like a rush of water downstream. He could feel his immeasurable power returning, could feel in pumping his veins, yet at the same time, there were tears.

Elsewhere was Fushiguro Megumi, screaming over and over the name of the woman he had just killed – a scream of desperation, anguish, and pain. Why did it sound so familiar?

Finding a blackened uniform, hovering over a body laid in her own pool of blood, the boy continued to scream and scream.

Fushiguro Megumi was a man he couldn’t wait to see at his full potential for battle, another in his list of to-kills, having shown great potential as a jujutsu sorcerer and as part of the wretched Zen’in. But this was far from the man he knew, all he saw was a weeping boy, a boy who lost his mind as he was grieving, begging over and over a corpse, the corpse of his beloved.

Satisfied, he should be, right? Yet, why doesn't he feel it? Why does a part of him feel a great loss? Why does a part of him feel as though he was the one with a ripped soul?

A flash of white came to view, standing next to the crying boy, his stance was rigid, apart from that nothing with his back turned.

Kneeling, Gojo Satoru let his fingers press against the dead girl's eyelids, closing them shut. His hands fell to her cheeks, engulfing them in his large fingers, lingering, thumbs caressing her ice-cold cheeks. Once filled with warmth and life.

"Megumi," says Gojo Satoru, cursed energy just radiating off him. "mind if ya take yourself and (Y/N) aside?" lowering his blindfold, his cursed energy increased in power, reeking of maliciousness. "Things are about to get messy."

He met Gojo Satoru's murderous look head-on, finally getting that fight he long promised him.

And yet, as he stood there, tears leaked from his eyes.

Even with all his powers returned, him being at his full glory, his heart felt more hollow than before.

#ryoumen sukuna x reader #clairvoyant!reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #angst #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fic #alicemitch09 writes #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk angst fic

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