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seidenbros · 3 years

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I'm lost, I'm found in you

Pairing: Geraskier (Geralt x Jaskier)

Summary: Jaskier moved into the house he grew up in after his grandmother's passing. The house is quiet and empty (even with his cat Batman around) so he's looking for someone to rent the rooms on the top floor. Geralt as a war veteran suffering from PTSD seeks some peace and quiet outside of town with his service dog Roach, so he is the one answering Jaskier's ad, and moves in with him.

Warnings: mentions of loss/death, PTSD, anxiety, hurt, please let me know if I need to put anything else here

Word Count: 3861

A/N: It all started with this post, which then turned into some gathered thoughts of @bards-den and me, which can be found here and inspired my to do this pic/gif-spam for the Modern AU for Geralt and Jaskier (and I had to include Yennefer as Jaskier's best friend, and will probably incorporate other characters as well, we'll see)

This is pretty much setting the scene, so don't expect too much, especially since it's my first time venturing into this kind of stuff, so I hope you enjoy this.

This was the house he'd grown up in. A house that had been filled with laughter, love and music, but that had been quiet for more than a year now. Well, not exactly quiet, since Jaskier was living here, but considerably quieter ever since his grandmother had died. Jaskier had lost his parents when he was still quite young, so his grandmother had taken care of him, had raised him and given him all the support he needed. But when she died, Jaskier had been the only living relative, the one to inherit everything, which meant the house as well. Before that, he'd been living on his own for quite some time, but he'd never really felt at home in his apartment.

At least twice a week, he'd visited his grandmother, had stayed the night. The upper part of the house had been pretty much turned into an apartment, just the kitchen was missing. Ever since her passing, Jaskier had been living here. It hadn't even been a question, because the house held so many memories. In addition, the feeling of home had settled inside him the minute he'd set foot into the house with his packed bags. All his other belongings were packed up and brought there after the house was in his name. It took him some time to get settled, especially because he wasn't living in the upper part of the house, but he was now living where his grandmother had lived.

There had been a lot to do around the house, some renovations, the garden, a new bathroom and kitchen... but he'd inherited all his Grandmother's money along with the house, which was a lot. He'd known that she wasn't poor, but he hadn't known just how much money she'd owned. It was a good thing, because that way, he didn't have to worry about money when it came to renovating the house, and he could even do what he loved without worrying too much about earning money. Sure, he sang in pubs here and there, even travelled for some gigs, and he was fortunate enough to earn some money with what he loved, but it wasn't like he was earning that much with his casual shows. Still, he loved being on stage, but in the end, he wanted to make his own music, and now, he really got that chance. While renovating, he'd even included a little studio where he could record his songs. The best place to write music, though, was either the patio when it was really warm outside, or the bay window looking out over the garden, where there was a nice, cosy place to sit. He'd already loved this place as a kid, and now, he appreciated it even more.

By now, he was rather comfortable with living here, and didn't want to leave this house any more. He'd even gotten a cat from the shelter, something he'd always wanted to do, but the timing hadn't been right. A black cat had found its home with Jaskier, and he'd named him Batman. Sure, it was sometimes a little weird, when he called for Batman, but then again... was it anybody else's business? He didn't want to go with Kitty, or Leo, Simba – especially because he didn't look like a lion cub. No, Batman fit him perfectly, and he was the company Jaskier had needed all this time.

But still, after more than a year in the house, it felt lonely, quiet, even when he was playing the piano or the guitar. It wasn't like he didn't have friends, for example Yennefer had been in his life ever since they were kids, but she had her own life, and couldn't stay here every night so that there was some life in the house. They spent time together and even had their movie nights and whatnot, which Jaskier really enjoyed, but the house was still too big for him. That was why he'd put out an ad to rent out the upper part of the house. It wasn't ideal, since they would have to share the kitchen, which was something most people probably didn't want to do, but Jaskier hoped that he would find someone. After all, sharing the kitchen meant some conversations, but the other person would have to be okay with that. He didn't want as much as he probably could get for a newly renovated apartment in a rather quiet neighbourhood – and some distance to your neighbours as well due to the size of his property. But maybe, people wanted to live in the city, feel it buzzing around them. Jaskier had been the same for some time, but now, he enjoyed being out here, having some peace and quiet, no neighbours that would complain about him making music in the middle of the night, because they couldn't hear him outside of his house. In his apartment, he'd gotten complaints from the neighbours, which had put a stop to his creative flow. Now, he didn't have to worry about it – at least now, because he couldn't say what it would be like with someone else living in the house. There were always pros and cons, but he was counting on the pros to outweigh the negative points.

After two weeks he'd nearly given up on getting a call from someone who wanted to see the apartment. There was no phone-call, but instead, there was someone at the door. Jaskier wasn't expecting anyone, so a little confusion made his brows furrow when he went to the door to open it. He was greeted by a mass of silvery-white hair, eyes that seemed to look right into him, a colour he hadn't seen before, but they reminded him of golden honey. Jaskier was taken aback, not sure what he could want here.

“Julian Alfred Pankratz?” The man asked, clearing his throat, making Jaskier wince. It had been a while since someone had called him that. His grandma for instance had refused to call him Jaskier, because he'd gotten the name from his grandfather whom he'd never met, so she always associated that with the husband she'd lost. It wasn't that he didn't like the name, it just didn't feel right. Jaskier was a name Yennefer and him had come up with, and it sounded way more like him than Julian.

“Jaskier, please. Nobody really calls me Julian anymore,” he said, leaning in the doorway, because he wouldn't just let a stranger into his house. Especially not a stranger with a dog, though the dog looked rather friendly. Was it a poodle? Maybe something mixed with a poodle, he thought. The dog was sitting a little behind the man with these fascinating eyes, which was a good thing. Not that Jaskier was afraid of dogs, but he didn't know how that dog would react to him or Batman, if he decided to greet the visitor.

“Jaskier then,” the other man said. He raised his hand, a piece of paper in it, and Jaskier could already see what it was, The ad for the apartment. “I'm here because of the apartment. I probably should have called, but I'm not fond of mobile phones and stuff, so I thought we could rather talk in person about this.” Surprise showed on Jaskier's face. It was rare to find someone who didn't have a phone glued to their hands nowadays. Jaskier himself needed his phone, and he quite enjoyed looking at videos on Youtube when he couldn't sleep, but there were also times when he put his phone aside and didn't look at it the whole day.

“I'm Geralt.” Jaskier whipped his eyes back up at the man in front of him. “And this is Roach... I hope it's okay, that I brought her, but she's my service dog, so we come in a package deal.” Jaskier wasn't sure whether he detected the hint of a smile or not, but there was so much going on in his heart head, that it was difficult to realize everything at once. He was about to ask if he'd really called his dog Roach, but then he remembered that his own cat was named Batman, so it was probably safer to not ask that at all.

“As long as she's fine with cats, we'll be okay.” Wait, he'd just said service dog, hadn't he? Of course, Jaskier was curious why Geralt needed a service dog, but this wasn't the time to ask. They'd just met, and if everything went well, they'd have a lot of time to talk. “Come on in,” he said, holding the door open for Geralt and Roach, then he guided them to the kitchen. Not a lot of people had been here since the renovations had been finished, so Jaskier was always a bit excited to show people around. In this case, though, Geralt didn't know what it had looked like before.

“Anything to drink?” Perfect host that he was, Jaskier flitted around the kitchen, putting some biscuits on the table, already on his way to the fridge, when Geralt asked for tea. Now, that was something Jaskier hadn't expected at all. By his looks, he would have thought that Geralt would probably like a beer, but tea was a pleasant surprise. While he was preparing the tea, he glanced at his visitor again, Roach sitting by Geralt's side completely at ease. “What makes you want to live out here?” Jaskier asked, not trying to be nosy, but genuinely curious about the man who might move in here. Okay, let's be honest, Jaskier was definitely going to say yes, because he needed someone else here – and when it was someone that good-looking, who could even blame him?

Roach sensed that Geralt was tensing up and lay her hand on top of his thigh, showing him that she was there. Before all this, Geralt had never thought, that he would need anybody in his life, least of all a pet that depended on him, but after Afghanistan, everything had changed. He'd made his choice for the military knowing full well that he could get hurt, that he could even die, but being in the position he was in now... He didn't know whether he would make that choice again. He'd seen, heard stuff that haunted him in his nightmares. Luck had been on his side that fateful evening when his comrades had been blown up, and he'd been the one furthest away. The only one who had survived this ordeal, and he had the scars to show it. It was a miracle that nothing more had happened than some broken bones and other wounds that had now turned into scars. The biggest problem was the damage to his ear, and he wasn't talking about the scar that ran down from his ear nearly to his shoulder. He'd lost fifty percent of his hearing in the right ear, and that was nothing anybody could fix. Yes, he had a hearing-aid that managed to balance that out, but... he didn't always use it. He didn't want to. Sometimes, it was just easier to shut the whole world out.

“I worked in Afghanistan,” he eventually said, picking his words wisely, but what good would it do to keep this from the young man across from him? Geralt was the one who wanted to rent the apartment, so it was only fair to tell JulianJaskier a little bit about himself. Not all the details but a little bit. He wasn't one to talk much anyway, “Came back half a year ago and I can't deal with the city anymore. Too loud, too crowded, and I thought it would be nicer for Roach.” Which had come to him as an afterthought, but in the end, it was nice to not have to walk to a park, but just walk around the area or play with her in the garden – which Geralt had already gotten a glimpse of from the outside. He needed a place where he could get some sleep and not be woken by every honking car in the middle of the night.

“Yeah... I get that,” Jaskier said with a weary smile, handing Geralt the cup of tea he'd prepared. Geralt's eyes didn't leave him, trying to figure out what had happened, because by the look on Jaskier's face something must have happened. It always did... “I grew up here with my grandma, but she passed away over a year ago, so that was when I returned here, renovated the whole place. It's actually a lot better than living in the city, I just needed some time to realize that.” Or maybe he'd had to grow up a little bit and learn to cherish the peace a home could bring.

“Sorry for your loss.” Geralt could only imagine what he'd been going through. Yes, he'd lost some of his comrades, but not someone who'd raised him. In fact, he'd never really had someone growing up. Only when he'd gotten older, he'd found his friends, that were more like family, his brothers, and none of them had left him for which he was grateful. “That's really good tea,” he said to lighten the mood, and it actually made Jaskier crack a smile, but it was still the truth. Ever since he was back, Geralt had turned to tea. There was something soothing about a good cup of tea, especially in the cold months.

“I can show you the rooms upstairs, but there is one catch.”

Oh, Geralt had known that. It was probably more expensive than it said in the ad, which wasn't a problem in itself, he had the money, but he didn't know whether he would have come here in the first place then. Or did he have a lot of parties out here and Geralt would have to live with the noises? Probably not... After all, Jaskier had said that he understood getting away from the loud and hectic big city.

“Upstairs is no kitchen, so we'd have to share this one.”

“That's it?” Geralt asked genuinely surprised. “That won't be a problem, as long as it's not a problem for you.” Relieved, that was how he felt. He'd expected whatever and then it was about sharing a kitchen? He could do that.

Jskier took Geralt upstairs and showed him around, showed him the newly renovated bathroom, the bedroom and everything else, and finished the tour off with the garden. It was still cold outside, so they didn't stay out there for long, but Jaskier got the feeling that the cold didn't really affect Geralt. It was probably time to light a fire in the fireplace once Geralt was gone.

“What is that?” Geralt asked suddenly and without waiting for a response, he walked straight towards the open door of Jaskier's studio. He didn't know why, but all of a sudden, Jaskier felt a little bashful. He tried to get past the white-haired man, but didn't really manage, because his broad shoulders filled out the door frame.

“That's my studio... It's soundproof, don't worry.” When he wanted to record something, or when he wanted to play the drums, he went in there, but usually, he played the guitar quietly while sitting in the bay window. It was probably not wise to mention now that he did that at three in the morning, so he kept his mouth shut. After all, he had a good feeling about this, about Geralt moving in, and didn't want to scare him away. Not that he really thought that anything could scare that man, but he didn't want to test his theory.

“Hmm,” was Geralt's only response as he turned around again to go back to the kitchen where Roach was waiting for him.

Geralt had moved in a week ago, and everything seemed to go well so far. They were still getting acquainted with each other, Jaskier pretty much tiptoeing around Geralt, because he was a little afraid that he would pack his things and move out again. He didn't deal well with abandonment. Never had. Back then he'd though his parents had simply left, abandoned him. It had taken a long time for him to realize that they hadn't left him willingly, but had been ripped from this earth. His first boyfriend, the love of his life had cheated on him after two years with him, and it had ripped Jaskier's heart apart. The song he'd written back then was one, he was still singing to this day, and it was a huge crowd pleaser, because most people could relate – mostly women, which said a lot.

“Maybe I'm just crazy, maybe I'm a fool, maybe I don't know how to love, but maybe I do,” he sang quietly strumming his guitar. Geralt was out running, as far as Jaskier knew, so he sat in the middle of his living room on the floor. Batman came to his side, snuggled up to him like he usually did. Close wasn't close enough for the cat sometimes, and it was more like he wanted to crawl inside Jaskier. A smile tugged at the singer's lips when he kept singing. “And I wonder does it blow you mind, that I'm leaving you far behind. I wonder does it stop your heart to know you're not my sunshine anymore.” His singing along with the guitar sounds had gotten louder, as it usually did when he came to that part. “Okay you're pretty, your face is a work of art-” But he suddenly stopped, when he looked up. There was Geralt standing in the door watching him. Sweat was dripping down from his nose, his hair pulled back into a ponytail, which Jaskier hadn't seen before, but it did things to him...

“I'm sorry, I didn't know you were back,” he said immediately, getting up and averting his eyes, because he had to pull himself together. Geralt was already a good-looking man, but that slightly dishevelled look, all sweaty like he'd been doing God knows what, was something Jaskier hadn't been prepared for.

“Just got home,” Geralt simply said, looking the musician up and down. Something was going on, but he didn't know what. And that song... Jaskier had a wonderful voice, he had to say, but so far, he hadn't heard him sing before. Just right now, and that song seemed to come from the heart. Maybe a broken one, but that made it all the more special, more meaningful. “I didn't want to interrupt you, I was just-”

“No, don't worry, I was just finished anyway.” Jaskier put the guitar away. He'd never been someone to be embarrassed about his work or shy to show what he was capable of, but right now, it felt like he was exposing himself way too much for his own good. Being on stage in front of a lot of people was one thing, but singing for just one person was different. With Yen, it always came natural, but she'd been there for him through all the hardships he'd faced so far, just like he had been there for her as well. That was what friends did for each other.

“Jaskier...” Geralt murmured, because he knew that he'd interrupted the younger one, which had been the last thing he'd wanted to do. The music had simply lured him in here, and he'd been curious to know whether it was really Jaskier singing here. And now they had this awkward situation with Jaskier leaving the room to go to the kitchen and Geralt watching after him for a moment before he decided to let it rest and retreat to his own rooms and finally shower.

The next time Geralt heard Jaskier sing was in the middle of the night. At first he thought he'd imagined it, but there was a guitar playing quietly. He was still awake at that time, not able to sleep, too afraid that the nightmares would come back and haunt him. The last couple of nights, he'd gotten a little bit of sleep, but had woken again rather early. He needed sleep, really, but the restless nights were something that had been haunting him ever since he was back. That was one reason he'd gotten Roach. At first, he'd thought that this was a stupid idea, because what could a dog do for him? It had only taken him two days with Roach to realize that he did indeed need her. Days were easier with her around, because whenever he got anxious, she was there to comfort him, to calm him down. When he woke in the middle of the night, she was by his side, calming him, but he still wasn't able to fall back asleep for a long time.

Tonight though, he hadn't slept at all so far. The clock revealed to him that it was four in the morning, so why was Jaskier still up? At first, he was irritated by the music, but it was rather calming, almost like some background music that could accompany his dreams. Good dreams, not the bad ones. But Geralt wasn't able to go back to bed right now. Instead, he pulled on his pants and ventured down the stairs as quietly as he could, signalling Roach to stay upstairs. It was dark downstairs, only a faint light shone in the living room. Geralt followed the sound and found Jaskier sitting with his guitar in the bay window, quietly strumming on his guitar, singing.

“And I don't want the world to see me, 'Cause I dont think that they'd understand.”

Iris... Goo Goo Dolls... One of Geralt's favourite songs. He wondered if Jaskier knew about that, but how could he? They hadn't talked about music so far, and it wasn't like Geralt was on social media and shared all the bits and pieces about his life. No, he rather liked that people didn't know every little thing about him. On the other hand, it was a classic song and pretty much everyone had heard that at least once in their lives.

“When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”

Geralt watched him from the shadows, not wanting to interrupt him again. It sounded beautiful, melancholic, and the sad smile tugging on Jaskier's lips didn't really make it easy for Geralt to stay where he was, because he wanted to comfort him. He didn't even know why, because they'd hardly known each other at that point, but there was something that drew him to Jaskier.

When the guitar sounds stopped, Geralt froze in place, because he thought that Jaskier had seen or sensed him, but he didn't look Geralt's way, but instead picked up Batman. While Jaskier was busy with his cat, Geralt turned around to go back upstairs, but he overheard what the musician said quietly: “Maybe one day, someone will actually know who I am.”

#staffi writes #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #the witcher au #the witcher modern au #modern au #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #julian alfred pankratz #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier fanfiction #jaskier my beloved #this pretty much wrote itself #i dont even know what happened

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Note

For the 300 followers prompts, number 26!!!

Since this idea was worth almost crashing while riding my bicycle listening to Heather, so here we go.

Your tiny safe box

Dialogue prompt - 26. " You love me like I'm the only person who deserves your love " " but you are the only person who deserves my love " | STORY TELLING | mild hurt comfort |

For @cupofsquirrelfan, thank you for requesting this prompt.

I remember the day when for the first time you stirred something inside me. It wasn't disastrous but my heart became a traitor and I forgot what it felt like to see you otherwise. You had stood before me and awkwardly apologized for everything you've ever done me bad for but I could see it how hard it was for you, I think I accepted your apology never knowing it'd ever turn into something so beautiful.

I remember when I first saw your smile, first saw you laughing, the Actual laughing, not the snickering or laughing at insults, you laughed at a joke I told and my threefold heart raced once again. I never knew a smile could be so beautiful and a sound could ever be more homely but there was you, so breath takingly and effortlessly beautiful. But I think you had swore to the lords to always prove me wrong, no matter what.

I also remember when you told me you were getting engaged. I was perhaps not in love with you then but I might've been falling anyways but I knew it when it stung me like all the bee's kept sucking my blood but I smiled because you had to go back to your hive. I didn't stop you and when I finally saw you getting married,I finally realised how much I loved you. I should not have fallen for you, I knew it but I think my heart never really ever belonged to me after you had apologized, after you had smiled at me, after you had laughed with me, after you had held my hand in a casual touch, after you had given me the simplest reasons to sleep at night with a smile upon my face. It started belonging to you somewhere along the time and even then I didn't complain. You had two hearts, one of hers and one of mine but then again you are a real charming heart throb, only I wished you had chosen mine.

But I settled for being your best friend, your single best friend you set unsuccessful dates up on, your friend you watched the quidditch match with every Friday night, your friend you went shopping with, your friend who gave you advise on what to gift next, your friend who took you out on Saturday's just so you got out, your friend who sang with you the chorus of endless love , your friend who lied about not having found the one, you friend who gave you marriage advise, I settled for it all as long as I had you near me. I settled knowing that i didn't do a sin confessing how I felt about you even though it hurt me Everytime I saw your face with your new wife. I settled for less.

But I remembered how happy you were after you had gotten married, how happy you were when you saw the bride walking down the isle, how happy you had been with the girl who you thought was from your dreams, how happy you were when you Returned from your honey moon, how happy you were when you knew you were expecting a baby, how happy you had been all along and I wondered what would had happened if I had been the one giving you that happiness but it didn't matter because one look at you and your wife, I'd known you'd never had chosen me.

But then one day you knocked on my door, you looked tired and I summoned you inside my house, offered you tea and you talked, you talked and you talked, and finally you told that you needed a divorce. I was shook because I thought you were the happiest couple in the world but you had told me how one perceives their relationship, how it was all about concealing, that you hadn't been happy after third year of marriage, that you didn't even sleep in the same room anymore. I was confused and you told me you were Afraid you couldn't do this but I remember giving you advise to work on your marriage again, to give her another chance because I could see in the little flickers in your eyes that you looked for that answer, you hoped I'd answer for you to try again. You might've thought why I had told you this but I was in love with you, I knew what you needed to hear be it if it was a pain to me, I gave you what you needed to hear and you left that night repeating that you'd give the marriage another try and I thought that was it for me. I thought this was my last straw, that I should move on after all this time.

And I did, or at Least tried to, I tried dating people, I went off, had fun with other people but their eyes didn't blink the same way, their smile didn't cage my heart, their lips didn't quirk the same way, their eyes didn't smile with their mouth, their hands were not as warm, their body was not as warm, them sharing their jacket wasn't the same, nothing was the same Because it wasn't you. I remembered I cried then the first time realising how foolishly I had been in love with you all these years that my heart didn't yearn but for you and you were there giving your marriage another try. I remember I stood before your House that very night, thinking I couldn't hold it anymore, that you needed to know but I couldn't do this. I loved you too much to snatch you away from Someone you love.

But thing's were never supposed to be that simple Because the day you turned to me for comfort again, you told me you knew my secret. I had asked what secret but your eyes spoke for you. I didn't say anything to you after that, I didn't comment because I had no agreeing to do nor denying, I was in love with you, how could I not be. But then you asked me something so unusual that I never thought you'd ask me in my entire life.

" why ?"

I frowned asking you what that why had been for.

" when that women couldn't love me, why do you ? Why have you loved me for long enough than my wife have ? How have you ?"

And I smiled at you, telling you how I didn't fell in love with the way you talked or the way you smirked or the way you dressed up or the way you learnt things, I fell in love with you because you became someone that was so hard to become, I fell in love with you because you're ugly too like me with scars that remained with you, I fell in love with you because you reminded me of spring, I fell in love with you because you had told me one day that a garden isn't dead until the last of the grass twig have dried up, I fell in love with you and not your things or your Beauty but your brain, your heart and you.

You had stared at me for long enough perhaps figuring out what to reply, but I didn't need one. I had caged my feelings in a tiny safe box and now I had given it to you and it was only yours now.

And after I had thought you wouldn't say anything else you told me

" you love me like I'm the only one who deserves your love "

" but Draco, you are the only who deserves my love "

And you had smiled at me, faintly telling me with your sparkling eyes you had loved me too someday, maybe yesterday, maybe an year from before, or maybe the first time we met in the robe shop but you had loved and I had loved you too.

But it was about starting new. You told me to start new, you told me you had to start new and so the next morning you came to my House with those signed divorce papers and then only you filled my brimming pot seeking a kiss from you, you finally kissed me like you had been saving yourself for me for ages and I had too..

We had lost so much time, I told you but you only replied

" if this life isn't enough, I'd find you again in the next and then there won't be Anyone for me but you "

Sorry for such a short prompt.

300 followers appreciation dialogue prompt requests open

Angst prompts request open

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astranva · 4 years

Text

Dream With Me

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Some explicit language? Not really though.

Category: Pure fluff!

Summary: One thing Harry loves about his girlfriend is her ability to make up the most interesting bedtime stories for him every night. How does it make her feel when he narrates one of her own to the world?

The one where Y/N makes up bedtime stories for Harry and he records one for the world to listen to.

When you tour the world, sing and prance on stages, write, model, play the guitar and piano, get interviewed, have people follow you everywhere, it’s safe to say that the best time to relax and let loose is when you sleep.

Harry enjoyed staying home with his girlfriend more than anything. Relaxed, chill days were his favorite; days when she’d be on the couch reading or on her laptop playing whatever video game she decided to try with people from online, he’d be lounging lazily beside her, his breath steady and calm when she’d run her fingers through his hair momentarily or when he’d be subconsciously playing with hers.

Days when their apartment would smell like pastries after she’d try baking something she saw on the television, or when it would smell like her favorite homecooked meal that Harry’s eyes would almost glimmer with happiness when she’d sneak and steal from the food he was cooking, watching her closing her eyes and a smile making its way to her face the moment she does, and he’d know that he has done a good job this time, again.

Harry loved the domestic life as much as he loved his job as an artist and entertainer. The euphoria he got the moment the crowd sang back to him, is one that he felt he achieved as well when he was with his girlfriend of 2 years when she’d be dancing to his songs in his clothes. The happiness he felt when someone would hug him and tell him that he means so much to them, is one he feels within just her smile in mornings or the soft, random kisses she’d give him. The bashfulness that would engulf him when someone would tell him that he’s good looking, was one that he felt when his girlfriend would tease him by wolf-whistling when he’d show her a new outfit or suit or just going anywhere really.

Don’t even get him started on how he feels with every single “I love you” she promises him because he was sure there would be no feeling close to what he feels when he hears those words from her, and especially her.

But there was something else about her, too, that nobody could give him but her – her stories.

Touring the world and doing what he does is hectic, of course, it is. It can be stressful, pressuring, and just plain tiring. So when he goes back home later than her after her job, and he goes straight into her arms, she knows he’s going to need a story to sleep better.

He’d nuzzle his head in her neck, smelling the scent of her shampoo with a whiff of her bodywash, his arms around her waist, hers around his neck, her hands moving to gently and lightly scratch his scalp.

“How was your day?” Harry would mumble, closing his eyes and letting her softly sway them in their place.

“Was alright,” she’d answer softly, “How was yours?”

And the sigh he’d release would be enough of an answer – tiring.

“Take a quick shower, yeah? Are you hungry?” She’d pull back to look at him, a soft smile on her lips as she asks him.

Harry would shake his head, “No, still feel too full from lunch.”

“Let me grab you an apple though. Lunch was a long time ago.” She’d pat his chest, “Go. How do we feel tonight? Do we feel like rescuing dwarfs or ending capitalism?” She’d grin, and it would instantly make him grin.

“Anything is fine. Just want to sleep with you beside me.”

On some days, they’d lie on their bed and she’d make up a story about how there were 3 dwarfs who lived in a mansion with everything miniature-sized and would climb each other and wear a coat and a fedora whilst outside. Why? “You can’t tell me you never wanted to try that, Harry!”

Then on other days, she’d tell a story about a boy named Harry with a rapidly growing fish in his backpack. Ring any bell? She remembers starting that series a long time ago with him, adding twists, comedy, and metaphors along the way until Harry decided to surprise her one day with an idea for his music video;

“Hey, baby, remember the fish in my backpack? We’re using that in Adore You! See you soon! Love you xx” he had texted.

Other days she’d make him think with the most random questions and assumptions.

“History is biased, Harry. When will the world stop considering Christopher Columbus a discoverer and instead take accountability for what he did to the natives of the land? What if Christopher never happened?”

And he’d be looking at her as she talked, one of her hands playing with his hair while the other moved all over the place for emphasis and to show how absolutely wonderful and amusing that mess of her mind was.

Some days, she’d be too tired. Drained from a day at her work, she’d be lazily playing with hair as her story was told in some sort of slurs.

“And then-And then they held hands, got on their horses and- no, they got on their skateboards,” she’d chuckle sleepily, “And they ran away. They didn’t have children because they didn’t want children and figured that the world was too ugly for that right now, so they adopted a blind dog and a deaf cat, and lived happily ever after.” She’d be out the moment she finishes, and Harry would be smiling at that and his heart thumping with love for her and love for how hard she has been trying to keep the ritual of a bedtime story alive, even when she was too sleepy and tired. It could be a 1-minute story and he’d feel better, and lighter.

It was one day when Harry went back home, turmoil evident and clear on his face. She noticed how tense his body was, how he clenched his jaw and saw him rubbing his temple as he took off his cardigan and was proven right when she put her laptop on the couch beside her and Harry took a breath before letting her know what happened;

“Fucking paparazzi. Do they think that’s an actual job?”

That day, he had showered and changed into one of her oversized hoodies (he was sure it used to belong to him) and shorts before joining her in their living room to find a tuna club sandwich waiting for him with a small cup of orange juice, his girlfriend under a blanket which she had retrieved when he was showering.

He told her all about the drama he faced that day over his tuna sandwich, giving her “thank you!”s every single time she agreed with him on how annoying they were.

“I get that people are different and that the economy is shit and everybody’s doing anything to get money but trying to trip me so they could get a photo? Why?” He rhetorically asked, shrugging.

“I agree, like,” her eyebrows furrowed as one of her arms reached out as if she was talking to somebody else but him, “Treat people with kindness, you assholes!”

And then there was a pause before Harry began to giggle, all the way to a loud laugh and struggling to catch his breath. She joined him, choosing to tackle him in a hug, hugging his head close to her chest before kissing his forehead, “Nobody is allowed to make you mad, you hear me, Styles? Now finish up, I think I know what to say tonight.”

She had taken a seat on Harry’s piano right after she uttered her last word, Harry turning his body around as he watched her with excitement and amusement. She cleared her throat, “This next song is dedicated to my mans,” Harry laughed, taking his phone in his hand and recording her as a keepsake, “It’s a song I worked very hard on. Stayed up all day and night.” She played offkey notes on the piano, “Harry, love,” she said slowly as she turned her head around to look at him, laughing when she found him recording her with the biggest grin on his face, “This one is for you.”

He had taught her how to play the Happy Birthday theme song on the piano when she joined him on tour once and began laughing when he heard her playing exactly that but with her own lyrics.

“Y/N makes me good stories, Y/N makes me good stories, Y/N makes me good stories,” she pressed the wrong key, letting out a tiny “oop” before continuing, “And she will make me sleep better toooonight.”

After, what she called a “skit”, they both brushed their teeth, did their night-time skincare routine, and were finally in bed.

Taking their usual position, Harry was on his side, looking at her with one arm draped around her waist. She was on her side, looking at him, one hand playing with his hair.

“Let’s try something different,” she suggested softly. “Close your eyes.”

Harry smiled at her, squinting teasingly which caused her to chuckle softly.

“Close your eyes, you baboon.”

So he did.

“Follow my instructions. Take a deep breath in,” she instructed, watching and hearing him follow her, “And then out. In.” He did as was said, “And out.”

Harry felt like almost sleeping from just how soft and gentle she was being, with the couple of deep breaths that he took, it felt like he could really feel how soothing the setting was; his hair played with, on clean sheets that smelled like the vanilla detergent they both loved mixed with her own scent, her presence beside him. It felt like heaven.

“Have you ever wondered what happens when you sleep?” She rhetorically asked, “Where you go, and what you feel; the places that you seek. When you start to drift away, your mind becomes a book,” she paused, “That writes itself then fades away before you wake to look.”

Harry almost swooned at what she said, embracing the calmness her words, voice, and overall presence radiated.

“Tonight, we’re going to think about anything you’d like.”

His mind instantly flashed to a scene that he had been dreaming and thinking too much about. The beach, him and his Y/N, wet with water and laughing before 3 kids were squealing and running around them. Call him a sap, but he saw a future with her and he loved kids.

“But let’s visualize some scenes. Clear your mind, love.” The hand which played with his hair stopped momentarily before he felt her knuckles softly caressing his temple and down to his cheek, making his reflexively smile which instantly put a smile on her face. “Let’s head to places more celestial.” She whispered.

“Imagine you’re there beneath the stars, which when you pause to think about it, actually, you are.” A sweet, gentle kiss followed her statement on his nose, watching him scrunch it with a wide smile and a hot face with a blush.

“You are, too.” He whispered, inching closer to her.

“Hush.” She said jokingly but blushed, before continuing the story which she had actually been thinking about for a while but saved for the right time.

She went on, describing sceneries for him and watching his lips tug into smiles as he listened to her, his face showing her different emotions despite having his eyes closed.

“Travel with me to moonlit valleys, blanketed with heather, the kind of landscape you and I could dream about forever.”

Harry was sure that if he wasn’t so sleepy, he’d be grabbing his journal to jot down everything she was saying and make it into a song, but he couldn’t cut their moment short. He didn’t have the heart to.

His Y/N continued, letting him relax more and more with every word she said.

He probably smiled the widest and felt like his heart would beat its way out of chest when she spelled out the word “love” to him, pecking different parts on his face with a kiss as she did.

“L,” she pecked his nose, “O,” she pecked one of his eyes and giggled when his face scrunched up in surprise, “V,” she pecked his temple, “E,” she pecked his cheek, “Love.” She kissed him softly and quickly.

And when she told him to think of “the ones he cherishes the most”, Harry couldn’t help but let out a low sigh of contentment as he imagined a garden with his family, friends and in between them, right under a spotlight, stood his Y/N in a flowy white floral dress, smiling so lovingly at him.

That night, Y/N watched Harry’s body get more relaxed by the minute, breath getting steadier until she realized that he had fallen asleep, his arm limp on her waist and his leg draped over hers.

“Goodnight.” She whispered.

He woke up before her the following morning, with a smile that proved that he, in fact, had a good and peaceful night's sleep. When he woke up, he realized that she was spooning him; one of her arms holding him tight, her leg over him, her head leaning against the back of his as he held her hand which was draped on his stomach.

Harry had to pause and reflect. Yesterday’s bedtime stories were probably one of her best and he was sure that if his Y/N decided to take that to the next level and write it down and read it to help ease those with a difficulty sleeping or anxiety, she would be helping out more people than she would imagine.

He stayed in his place for a while, scrolling through his phone and watching the previous night’s video without sound so that he wouldn’t disturb her. He watched how she laughed in that video, how domestically free and shamelessly herself she was, how she effortlessly managed to carry the weight of that day’s burdens off of his shoulders and throw it away.

Y/N woke up not long after and Harry felt it when he heard her let out a groan before she stretched, him instantly turning around to see her. “Good morning, beastie.” He joked as he always did to her in the morning.

“Morning, beauty.” She replied sleepily with a smile. “How was your sleep?”

“I’m certain that you’re a magician, Y/N. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh shoot. Caught.” She teased, wrapping herself around him by climbing and lying on top of him, feeling his arms wrap around her. “But really, how was it?”

“It was amazing. What was that last night?” He asked gently.

“What? You didn’t like it?”

“Like-Y/N, I loved it. That was some therapeutic shit right there.” His chest vibrated with chuckles, “Seriously. I think I want you to record that.”

Her eyebrows rose up and as did her head as she looked at him, “Really?”

“Yes!” He nodded eagerly.

“Wait, I have to show you something now that you mentioned it.” She grinned before climbing off of him and getting out of bed and walking towards her bedside table, mumbling about how she could’ve “shifted closer and gotten it without having to get out of bed.” She opened her drawer, taking out the notebook Mitch had gifted her for some reason last Christmas. It was a medium-sized notebook which had koalas on it with the title being “I’m 100% koalafied to become president!”

She sat beside Harry, who sat up and looked at her with both confusion and excitement as she shuffled through the pages.

“Here,” she stopped at one page, “That’s like, an outline? I don’t know what you call it. But I decided I’d write a bedtime story for you and that’s what I read to you yesterday.” She looked like a kid who had just won first place at a spelling-bee competition as she gave Harry her notebook.

His eyes fell on the title, “Dream with me.” He said softly.

“It’s cliché I know, forget about it.” She said bashfully, waving her hands around.

“No, it’s not,” Harry shook his head, “I did dream with you. Darling, this is incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” Harry laughed excitedly, putting the notebook aside, “Write more, will you?” He asked softly as he opened his arms, letting her move to place herself on his lap and wrap her arms around him.

“Don’t treat me as if I’m a professional. You’re overfeeding my ego.” She joked.

“And why not? You are the best bedtime storyteller I have ever seen.” He said lowly.

“You think too highly of me, Harry.”

“Not too high,” He shook his head with a smug smile, “Just enough to appreciate how bloody talented you are.”

And that began a new ritual. It then became usual for Harry to find his girlfriend perched up anywhere, her koala notebook supported on a cushion on her lap as she wrote away stories which she told him every night, deciding on the perfect ones according to different times and moods.

One day, an idea popped in her head.

Due to the pandemic and how they were both staying safe and going out only when absolutely necessary, Y/N knew how chaotic and sad the world was. She knew some chaos needed to happen, knew that some chaos was revolutionary which is why she decided against staying home and silent and was with Harry during the BLM protests, knowing that something had to be done and that something wasn’t to sit and mope.

But everyone deserved the breather. Everyone deserved to let out a breath and to catch a good night's sleep.

It was when she stumbled upon a video on YouTube that was a 39-minute video of just Harry talking with rain in the background and she saw the comments from fans that she gasped and almost sprinted to Harry.

Harry, sitting in his recording and music room, was sat on a chair with his guitar, strumming and humming when his girlfriend barged in and began to ramble. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock but it’s so important! There are so many people we can help, or like, you can, and it’s super easy, you already have the equipment and ev-“

“Y/N!” His eyes widened as he called for her and put his guitar aside, “Honey, calm down. It’s okay. Let’s talk. Come here.” He held his arm out.

She blushed and began laughing quietly at herself as she seated herself on his lap, brushing back her hair. “Sorry, sorry, too excited.”

Harry smiled, “And I absolutely love it but I’m having just a liiittle bit of hard time understanding.”

She laughed before taking a deep breath and straightening her posture, “Alright. You know how awful everything has been? How-How busy and noisy the world has been for a while?” She asked and Harry nodded, “Well do you know that your fans have a video of you on YouTube with many interviews in there because they love your voice? And they added rain and everything, reduced noise.”

“Oh, wow.” He tried to conceal his blush by laughing.

“I know! You know how good your voice is so why don’t you give the world a little something?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “I sing?”

“No, they know that. They have your songs and covers and everything but you talking?” She raised an eyebrow at him with a suggestive smile.

“Baby, I really don’t think I’m getting anything.”

“Read them something! A bedtime story.” She suggested with an excited smile and a gleeful tone.

“Like you do to me?” He asked, wanting to understand better.

“Yeah, exactly like that. You can upload it on your website or see if any app is willing to partner, whatever you want.”

“Do you think people would like that?” Harry asked again, wrapping his arms tighter around her to bring her closer as he looked up at her.

Y/N smiled and gently cupped his face, “They’ll absolutely adore it.”

Harry hummed, in thought. “Yeah well, I can’t do that on my own.”

She nodded, “You have connections. Jeff has connections, you can find a part-“

“No, love, I mean I can’t do it without you.” He grinned up at her, watching as her face then showed confusion, “Not without your beautiful, absolutely wonderful stories.”

Her eyes widened, her head tilted. “What? No. These are for you. Told you I’m no professional, Harry. I’m sure there are faaar better people.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Nonsense. We do this together or we let people have trouble sleeping.”

“You manipulative piece of shit.” She shook her head with a smile, leaning her head back, Harry chuckling.

“Dream with me.” He said after a moment, “I can read Dream With Me.”

She looked at him for a moment, her smile widening before she nodded, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. “I love you.”

Remember what I said about the indescribable feeling he got when she said those three words? It was there.

And she felt it, too, when he replied with a promise of his – “I love you, too. So much.”

---

Harry had contacted Jeff, who had contacted some people before finally landing on a partnership with Calm. There were two conditions in this work;

Harry would record from his home.

He would be reading his girlfriend’s story.

Now imagine owning a company of that sort as Calm and having Harry Styles contact you with these two conditions. Yes.

It took a couple of days. In the comfort of their own home, Harry and Y/N had him record then they would tweak some stuff then they would listen and try again. They were aware that music would be added, and Y/N was way too excited to listen to the final product.

In his denim hat, black t-shirt, striped cream-colored pants, using his Vans as slippers – which Y/N always cringed at and told him that it would ruin his shoes – and the script in his hand, Y/N stood on the side, admiring. He had allowed his scruff to grow, which she definitely wasn’t complaining about. A bracelet she made him when they were only friends years ago on his wrist, its colors washed out from when he’d shower or swim with it. Headphones were on his head, but she knew he could hear her if she said anything.

When she took her phone out to take a picture, Harry’s eyes moved to her before moving back to the script with a smile.

“Maybe all the memories that we’ve gathered here tonight are all dreams now remembered or wishes in plain sight. No matter what, they’re with us now, for this night and forever. And every time we close our eyes, they’re yours and mine to treasure. Goodnight, and sleep well.”

Harry then turned to look at her, eyes gleaming with happiness and calmness, as her hands were clutched together against her chest, watching and listening.

“I love you.” He added.

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atths--twice · 3 years

Text

Quiet, Soft

Needing a break from living life on the run in motel rooms, Mulder and Scully venture out to a different living environment.

A few weeks ago, I was driving home and decided to listen to a 90s playlist on Amazon and heard the song in this story. I was instantly back to nights of parties and having fun with friends. When being in my twenties was the best and life was easier.

THEN, it made me think of MSR, out in the world enjoying places from my own memories.

Hope you enjoy.

August 2003

The air around them was warm, stars filling the sky. There was word of a meteor shower happening later and they were sitting out waiting for it. Well, he was anyway. He was not sure Scully was even thinking about it anymore. Currently, she was swaying to the music echoing from across the river.

Two weeks ago they had been leaving a motel room, after an exceptionally long stay, and she had sighed as they put their bags into the car. Looking at her, she had shaken her head and sighed again.

"What is it?" he had asked.

"I don't know," she had answered. "I feel like we were here for too long or something. It’s a small town and thankfully people left us alone, but something feels… off. I know I wasn't always overly excited about our past trips to the forest, but I feel the time in the motel here has left me wishing for some fresh air." She shrugged and he nodded in understanding.

"Well, we do have the tent with us. We could head to the forest if that’s what you want." He had raised his eyebrows and smiled, knowing that was not exactly what she had been implying.

"I wouldn't go that far," she had said with a laugh, as they got into the car and shut the doors. "Something different would be nice, though I’ll never admit that I want to camp out in the woods." She had smiled at him and he nodded, his mind already thinking of what they could do.

After some discussion, they rented a cabin cruiser boat from a jovial, red cheeked man on a large river, despite Mulder’s tendency toward seasickness. They had stayed both on the boat and also camped out in their tent on little sandbars or grassy picnic areas with public bathrooms and showers.

About halfway down the river, there was a small dock. A path led up to a small convenience store where Scully stocked up on supplies, bringing them back to the boat with a happy smile.

Food and other necessities procured, they had driven around the river, the wind blowing through their hair as Scully laughed happily, her arm around his waist. Other times they had floated lazily, the boat rocking as Scully lay on the bow of the boat on a towel in a bikini, the sun warming her skin, as he had walked over to join her on silent bare feet with a bottle of sunscreen in his hand.

They made love in the early morning, the sun just beginning to brighten the sky, or late at night, the stars above them twinkling down through the mesh of the tent.

They went skinny dipping, day or night, shivering in the chilly water, laughing as they dunked under and swam around.

Simple meals had been cooked over a campfire or in the small kitchen of the boat, touching and smiling as they worked together.

Sitting on the boat at night, with her between his legs and leaning back against his chest, as her fingers ran gently up and down his thighs, they had listened to others who were camping around the river, music and laughter sounding in the still air.

Needless to say, she had the fresh air she had been seeking.

Tonight, there were people on the other side of the river having a party around a large fire, their music playing loudly. If they had not been there, Mulder was certain that he and Scully could have been the last two people on earth, and that would have been just fine with him.

"Mmm…” Scully hummed as she swayed, her eyes closed, a happy smile on her face, and he smiled as he watched her.

They were drinking tonight, not something they usually did, but when she had suggested margaritas by the fire, he’d had no argument. Margaritas had then turned into drinking tequila straight from the bottle, her cheeks becoming more flushed with every sip. But she was happy and he loved seeing her that way.

"Mulder, come dance with me," she sighed and he poked at the fire before getting up and coming to stand beside her. She smiled at him, her eyes half closed and head tilting back. He took the bottle of tequila from her and capped it, tossing it onto the sand.

Smiling at her, he reached out and grabbed handfuls of the new sun dress she had bought before they came onto the boat, and pulled her close. It was an interesting dress that simply wrapped around her and tied in specific spots. A wrap dress, she had called it.

“Or an unwrapped one,” he had said, tugging at the tie and kissing her neck, her laughter in his ear as his hand had slid into the dress. Finding her wearing nothing underneath, his kiss had become a nip as he growled and she shivered.

It had quickly become one of his favorite clothing items she owned.

“Hmm,” she hummed, leaning heavily against him, and he smiled.

They were not exactly dancing, but standing in the sand holding one another. She smelled of tequila, sunscreen, and sunshine; having spent the day swimming and lying lazily in the sun.

"So have you had all the fresh air you were craving?" he asked and she hummed again in response. He chuckled and ran his fingers through her hair as a yell went up across the take and he glanced in that direction.

"What do you suppose they’re doing over there? Excited for the meaty shower?"

"Do you mean meteor shower?" he asked with a soft laugh and he felt her shrug. “Are you excited, tequila drinker?"

"I've seen many me-teor showers, Mulder,” she slurred, her hands locking around his waist, her thumbs stroking his back. "But, I know you like them, so..."

"Yes, how odd of me to enjoy something as romantic as gazing up at the stars,” he said dryly as he rolled his eyes and she laughed. Tipping her head back, she looked at him through heavy lidded eyes.

"I like that you're a romantic person," she said softly. "Have I ever told you that before, Mulder?" He smiled, stroking her cheek, and brushing her hair back.

"I don't know if you've ever said as such, but l know you do."

"Good, because I really do. I always have you know." Her eyes closed and he smiled, stroking her cheek again.

"What was it that you liked most about my romantic side, Miss Scully?" he asked teasingly, but knowing her answer would be more forthcoming, the alcohol in her bloodstream loosening her tongue.

"Most? Hmm...” She licked her lips and ran her teeth slowly across the bottom one. He swallowed as he watched her, wanting to taste her lips. She smiled and opened her eyes, the moonlight shining in them. "You’re a quiet romantic, Mulder. I think that's what I’ve always liked most. It's not something… overstated or really known unless someone was paying attention."

"And you were of course.”

"Damn straight I was," she replied, her nails pressing into his back. “I always pay attention.” She stumbled slightly and he chuckled as he held her tighter.

“Mmhmm,” he murmured and she stared at him, her eyes having a hard time focusing.

“Do you… doubt me?” she slurred again and he shook his head.

“I would never,” he whispered with a shake of his head, a smile on his lips.

Strumming my pain with his fingers

“Oh… Mulder…” she said, her eyes widening as she pulled away from him unsteadily, before she closed them and began to sway and hum, the people across the way cheering and singing along loudly to the song now playing.

Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

“I really like this song. Hmm…” She raised her arms over her head as she danced, and he grinned as he watched her, the people still cheering and chanting hey, hey, hey as the song began past the chorus, Scully humming and singing along.

I heard he sang a good song I heard he had a style And so I came to see him and listen for a while And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes

Loud singing continued, Scully joining in a quieter tone, and he shook his head, closing his eyes as he smiled, listening and swaying slightly.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

Her hands on his chest caused his eyes to fly open. Staring down into her eyes, she sang quietly, the words slightly slurred, her body pressed close to his own, his hands falling to her hips.

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on

From across the river, the singing grew louder, men and women joining in and Scully stepped away from him, her eyes closed and arms over her head again, singing along loudly in their direction.

Woah Woah-oah-ah-ah-ah uh, uh La-la-la, la, la, la Woah, la Woah, la La-ah-ah-ah-ah

It seemed everyone was now singing and he smiled as he nodded along, not knowing all the words, but enjoying the beat, and the sway of Scully’s hips.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (yes, he was singing my life) Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

She hummed as the words died down and the people laughed and the occasional chorus continued to ring out before the next song began to play.

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,” she sang softly as she turned around and stepped over to him. He pulled her close as she stumbled slightly, her feet touching his in the sand and her arms wrapping loosely around him. “Killing me softly with his song… hmm.”

He smiled as they stood, only slightly moving, the warm air blowing. Moving his head down, he kissed just below her ear as he breathed in deeply. Better than any alcohol he would ever drink, her scent intoxicated him, leaving him with a hangover from which he never wanted to recover.

“I think I should sit down,” she whispered and he laughed, kissing her neck again as she leaned further into him.

Walking to the large quilt spread out before the fire, he helped her down and then sat beside her as she laid on her back.

“The earth is spinning,” she mumbled.

“Every second of every day,” he retorted as he looked at her, a slight smile on her lips as she closed her eyes.

“Even more so right now, for me anyway. I don’t know if I’ll make it for the meteor shower.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?” she asked, reaching for his hand, her eyes opening with only a slight struggle. Appearing sober for a moment, he saw sadness within them and he wanted her to remain happy, the thoughts that haunted her lingering and causing pain.

“Of course I’m sure,” he said with a smile, taking her hand and kissing her fingers. “There are many meteor showers every year. You can catch the next one.”

He laid down beside her and she turned onto her side, releasing his hand and snuggling into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, looking up at the night sky, the stars shining brightly.

“Your understanding. Your touch. Your eyes on me. The way you lean in and it becomes only the two of us, even if there are hundreds of others around. How you care for others, for children especially. It’s quiet, soft…” She fell silent and he was sure she had fallen asleep, her breathing deep and even. He smiled, kissing the top of her head as his fingers massaged it softly, and he looked back at the sky.

“It’s quiet and soft,” she repeated in a whisper, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re a good looking man, anyone can see that, but that’s not what attracts them to you.”

“No? You don’t find me attractive?” he teased and she breathed out a laugh.

“Fuck yes I do.” He laughed and she shifted, finding a more comfortable position. “But it’s not the physical, not completely. It’s you, your intensity and caring. It’s so damn attractive and sexy.” He laughed again as she ran her hand slowly up and down his chest with a low hum.

A flash flew across the sky and he tapped her head, tugging her hair a little to raise her head back and look up.

“It’s starting, Scully. Look.”

She shifted again and they watched the sky flashing with meteors passing quickly, some brighter and longer than others. Once again he stroked her hair, her breathing deep, her fingers nearly still.

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,” she sang in a whisper and he smiled.

“One time, one time,” he sang back, and she exhaled a chuckle.

“Killing me softly with his song…” she whispered, shifting again and kissing his neck, breathing out her love for him before she fell asleep, her fingers gripping his shirt.

The party across the way continued, seemingly unaware of the wonder of nature happening above them.

He stayed awake as long as he could, but the warmth of the fire, the woman beside him, and the summer evening, soon pulled him to sleep.

He dreamed of her. She was dancing in the sand, her hands beckoning to him, a beautiful smile on her face as music echoed all around them.

Strumming my pain with his fingers…

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Post The Truth #On the Run #Drinking and Dancing #Camping #Boating #Meteor Shower #Cuddling and Snuggling #Happy and Content #Love

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thetorturerwrites · 4 years

Text

Welcoming Work

Summary: “I’m…” You faltered, trying to find a way to explain what was happening to someone who likely had no idea about any of this. But he nuzzled you like a puppy, and your smile led the way.

“It's welcoming work.”The way he sat up straighter, moved your hair to one side so he could see better, and leaned into you, threatened to melt you into a puddle of goo.

“I need to welcome a new city,” you said. “New job. New apartment. New opportunities and friends.”

Author’s Note: My favorite slut is at it again, this time with a little woo thrown in.

Also: The contents herein come with facets of my own witchery and practice. If this doesn't line up with your practice, don't come for me. All paths are inherently personal, and I'm not gonna argue mine.

A bit of sex, a bit of fluff, a bit of crafting.

***

♪ Be my sister, sister of the moon Some call her sister of the moon ♪

You sang under your breath as you walked. Fleetwood Mac always opened craft days. The slightly mystic sound calmed you, centered you to a place to begin. As the day wore on, the soundtrack would become progressively more intense. Santana. Florence + The Machine. Music was the gateway, the shot to start the race.

You’d planned today for a month, checking your calendar and your pantry and stock for ingredients. Everything aligned perfectly, right down to the day of the week. Saturday, so you could get yourself feeling good all day and be genuinely ready later and not scrambling to throw it all together.

It was this plan that had you knocking on Adam’s door at 1 in the afternoon.

“Hey-eee?!” His smooth voice tilted up a bit at the end, surprised to see you in his hallway. “What’s up?”

You had no idea why he called you kid, nor did you have any idea why it felt so good that he did.

Adam Sackler was one of the first people who befriended you here. You worked part time as a stagehand for the theatre company he acted for. He smiled a lot which you really liked. It lit up his face; and when his hair was pushed back and out of the way, his ears wiggled with every smile. He had an infectious personality.

In addition, he was one of the most attractive mother fuckers you’d ever seen in your life. All broad shoulders and muscles. He was, simultaneously, a gigantic goofball and a walking aphrodisiac.

“Hey, Adam!” You gave him a friendly wave but shook your head when he opened the door for you to come inside. “I won’t be long. Wanted to talk to you about something real quick.”

He was also an unabashed sex fiend who flirted shamelessly. You lost count of how many suggestions he’d made about shagging you silly, and you couldn’t remember anybody ever winking at you in your life, but he did. He often pointed to the bathroom door with an indecent brow lift, silently asking you if you wanted a quickie. Without fail, you snickered and shook your head.

You probably should have turned him in for harassment, but part of you knew he’d stop the instant you said don’t. And the rest of you decided that you liked the way all his comments, queries, and suggestions made you giggle. You needed happiness these days.

“Shoot.”

He leaned on the door, casually looking like the world’s largest lollipop, and you worked hard to not ogle him. It was decidedly not a simple task.

“You know all the comments you make about quickies in the back of the theatre or walking me home at night to make me breakfast?” You canted your head because he shifted uncomfortably. His face darkened a bit, and you knew it was because he expected to be chastised. “I’d like to take you up on that.”

Interest flitted across his handsome features, and he took a step towards you.

“Is that right?” He smirked and tried to tug you into the apartment by the strap of your bag. “Think I can make time for you, kid.”

A wide smile broke across your face. You couldn't help it. The absurd things he said entertained you. He was the most adorable idiot you’d ever known.

“Ah, I was actually thinking later tonight. Would that work for you? I have some things to do this afternoon.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had things to do, but you were more interested in the thing's timing. You had an agenda; and as appealing as an afternoon in his bed sounded, you were sticking to it.

“Why now?”

His question gave you pause. It was a fair question, but you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to answer truthfully. He might think you bizarre and not worth it. Don’t fuck crazy, as they say.

“I’m dealing with some things,” you said. “I could use the boost. Think you could come by around 8?”

♪ Dark lady laughed and danced and lit the candles one by one Danced to her gypsy music 'til her brew was done ♪

The knock at your door came at 7:45. Entertained, your lips twitched because he never struck you as the punctual type. It could almost be construed as eager.

Inside of two minutes, you had your ‘hey kid’ and the single carnation he brought for you. You twirled it in hand and smelled it with the coy look you knew always won cute points. And then he was in your apartment, mischievous eyes looking you up and down before surveying everything beyond you.

“Holy fuck, your place smells amazing.”

You smiled at the compliment, tucking the carnation into one of too many glass jars you had on the counter top. You pointed to the large pot of simmering cider. Your apartment smelled of fruit, cloves, and bourbon. He wasn’t wrong; it was amazing. Beyond that, the pleased sound he made had your insides buzzing.

“Are you hungry?” You ducked out of the kitchen to finish the task he interrupted. “I finished supper a bit ago, but there’s still some left if you are.”

Finally looking away from the yumminess on your stove, he watched as you circled your place, striking match after match. Your apartment glowed with candlelight; pillars and votives adorned anything with a flat surface. It gave the room a warmth, the type of succulent vibe that always made you feel sensual and open.

“You tryin’ to romance me, kid?”

It wasn’t condescending or belittling. It was an appreciative joke. The grin on his face said he was poking fun at you, but the crinkle of his nose and eyes said he liked it. The lick of his lips said he also appreciated your flowy, nearly see-through linen trousers and little white tank top.

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head. Flashing eyes accompanied a little twirl of your fingers. “It’s magic.”

Your sassy quip seemed to delight him because he pushed off of the stool he’d claimed and crossed the room like a panther. There was something hunterish about him, and it was oh so tempting. It occurred to you, for the millionth time, exactly how tall he was when he curled down around you. His long arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush. His lips found the crook of your neck, and he nudged your earlobe with the bridge of his nose.

“Magic, huh?” He began a wholly distracting trail of kisses along the side of your throat. “You smell good, too.”

“Mhm.” You splayed your fingers across his pectorals, enjoying the steady beat of his heart. “You’re gonna help me.”

He lifted his head to look at you, curiosity clear in his arched brow and pursed lips.

You swallowed, gulped more like. Time to jump off the bridge. You didn’t want to lie to him, but your path wasn’t exactly mainstream. Most people thought you silly or devil-driven. But you couldn’t raise the type of energy you wanted on a lie.

“Oh, yeah?” He cocked his head to one side, deliberating. “What am I gonna do?”

You wanted him to make you vibrate, to fill you up with that endless jubilation he always had. You wanted him to raise enough power that the top of your head would blow off. You wanted the mundane world to fall away and the inner world, where courage and spirit and wisdom lay, to rise up and work.

“Well,” you sighed dramatically, “if you suck at sex, I’m gonna be mad because that’s pretty much it.” Again, you twirled your fingers around to mark the atmosphere. “Gonna raise some energy.”

You’d never been shy about your craft, but you were careful with it. Too many times in your past, you’d felt mocked, chastised, outright chased out of homes. The name calling never affected you, but losing friendships and partners was hard. Something about Adam, though, told you he was up for pretty much anything.

“Hm.” He pondered it for a moment before nudging the tip of your nose with his. “Soft and slow energy or quick and rough energy?”

“Yes.” You nodded, cheeky and matter-of-fact. “But there is one thing I’d like to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t say mean things to me, ok?”

Adam’s predilection for dirty talk was legendary. The people he’d already slept with at the theatre gossiped about it regularly.

“I’m not a slut or a whore.” You furrowed your brow because it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t mind it, really, but tonight needed to be specific. Good vibes. “At least not tonight. Ok?”

His fingers slithered under the hem of your tank, seeking skin. He leaned into your space and kissed a slow line from your chin, along your jaw, to your ear, where he whispered naughty things.

“Already thinking about fucking me again?”

With his arm about you so securely, he stretched you onto your toes as he straightened up to his near full height. And when he dipped his mouth to yours for the first time, you knew you made a wise decision. His lips were soft but sure, and he tasted like honey, as you suspected. The sound you made when his tongue slid along yours made him squeeze you a little tighter.

He sunk into it; you could feel it. His shoulders dropped, his fingers curled into your flesh, and his even breath blew across your cheek. His kisses were intoxicating, hungry but unhurried. He licked at the roof of your mouth and nipped at your lower lip. You slid your hands along his shoulders, up the back of his neck, and into his hair. He was solid, but slightly vulnerable in the best way.

Bending down to hook his hand under the crook of your knee, he wrapped your leg around his waist and hoisted you up as though you weighed little more than a feather. Long strides had him at the foot of your bed before he’d finished anchoring your other leg to his middle. You were never so grateful for a studio apartment with its no-wall, no-room layout.

“Hold tight, kid.”

He murmured it against your mouth, and you nodded against his in return. You cinched your thighs tight, which made him groan ever so softly, and bore your own weight for his shoes, socks, and belt to come off without him ever setting you down. Crawling onto your bed, he eased you to the mattress, knelt upright, and peeled off his shirt. A bite to your lip kept you from salivating all over yourself at the sight of him, his muscles, and that extraordinary ‘v’ that disappeared into his waistband.

He didn’t peel them off, but he did pop the button on his jeans to make a little more room for what you expected was something long and thick. Short-circuiting that thought, he leaned down over you and gave you the kind of kisses you’d only seen in movies. He was a staggeringly good kisser, making you squirm more and more with the curl of his tongue and the teasing scrape of his teeth. When he bit your shoulder, though, your breath stopped. Abruptly overcome, you felt like you might combust.

And just like that, you found the thing you needed.

He didn’t miss it and tested the theory by another bite at your pulse point. Your fingers curled into his bicepses, digging in as you whined and tilted your face away to give him more flesh. His sweet mouth turned ravenous, seductive kisses turned demanding. He gripped your chin and turned your lips to his once more, swallowing your gasps and whimpers.

He dragged his nails along your sides viciously as he pushed up your tank, leaving tracks and eliciting a long moan and the rise of your shoulders into his. Your core ached, your pussy throbbed, but you’d willingly drown in this foreplay, the middle energy between beginning and end. It was heady and erotic and tantalizing.

Adam’s teeth found purchase once more at the top of your breast, and he gave you more and more and more. The longer he explored you, the more fierce the bites became. At the peak of your breast, he got enough of a grip to pull it up and away from your torso, only relenting when you pushed at his chest. He flicked your sensitive nipples with his tongue until your hips bucked and twisted. He treated your ribs on both sides to the impressive span of his wide jaws and a bulldog bite. A satisfied rumble reverberated in his chest at your moans.

As with your shirt, he scraped flaring lines into your skin as he dragged down your pants; and as soon as you were completely bare, he attacked your thighs. He sucked the delicate flesh of each into his mouth good and deep.

You’d be riddled with bruises tomorrow, and it was incredibly worth it.

Gripping the sheets, you heaved for breath, staring at the ceiling but not seeing it. You’d expected filth from his lips, the sort of lewd banter you’d heard about. But this was too good for words, too animalistic. He drummed you up into a frenzy with his teeth and strong fingers. You floated on a pheromone high, watching as he pushed your leg up over his shoulder, but the way he bit and tugged on your meaty outer labia had you shot up and into your wits on a yelp.

You swore and rocked and tangled trembling fingers into his dark hair. It was the ideal amount of too much; and when he looked up from your pussy, you hissed at the salaciousness in his hazel eyes. You missed what he said because he was too many things. Mouth-watering and divinely sexy and utterly masculine. His lips grazed your wrist, sweeping words you didn’t give a damn about against the delicate flesh and easing you back down by his grip on your rib cage.

He delved into your sticky cunt, his tongue painting a wide stripe from bottom to top that had you shivering. Brazen and needy, your knees parted wide; your hips danced for his carnal kisses. Laid back for him again, he stole another harsh bite and sucked your clit until you nearly begged.

But he played you like a violin, keeping you suspended in want, not allowing you to tip over that edge.

Delirious, riding the endorphins and electricity in his fingertips, you vaguely registered that he shucked his jeans. You arched on a yearning prayer of thanks for the way he now pinned you with his weight and spread your thighs too far apart with his massive body. He undulated with you, matching the rocking of your hips because you couldn’t be still to save your life. Reaching between you, he lined himself up and surged forward to breach you with the plump head of his cock.

“Holy hell, Sackler!”

You choked, having only partially expected him to be carrying a goddamn torpedo. Amused, he licked your lips and pushed further in on languid strokes. He sunk into you maddeningly slow, drawing out pitiful whines, louder and louder until you slapped your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up.

“Uh-uh.” He tugged your hand away, pinning it down onto the bed and lacing his fingers with yours. “None of that.”

Concerned, you shook your head and chewed your own lips, but he bottomed out and you couldn’t help but swear again.

“Fucking hell. Neighbors,” you eked out.

The fiendish grin on his lips promised wicked things.

“Fuck the neighbors. Wanna hear you scream.”

He punctuated the last word with a mischievous snap of his hips, hardly withdrawing at all before surging back in. You felt socked in the gut. His dick stabbed at your stomach; and it wasn’t long before you did what he wanted. It burned deliciously. He fucked you all the way open and filled you completely. The wince you couldn’t hide was from both pain and pleasure. But as he knew it would, your body acclimated to him. The tension in your hips and legs eased, and you moved to accept him rather than limit the intrusion.

“Mm. That’s it. Open for me.”

He muttered things against your pulse, things lost to the whirlwind of lust. He wrapped one giant hand around the round swell of your ass, keeping you right there, right where he wanted. His rhythm kicked up, faster, deeper, and all the liquid in your body flooded south. Soon, the stab of his dick was accompanied by a vulgar squelch, an obscene sound to mark how much he affected you, how thoroughly he was wrecking you. A sound that made him switch from gripping your fingers to tangle in your hair. He held the back of your head tight to pull you down as he fucked up into you so forcefully your bed bounced against the wall.

“Fuck, that’s good.” He grunted against your jaw, lips dragging a line to yours. “Knew you’d be good, kid. Wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you.”

It was your turn to groan. You’d originally thought him talking to you in the midst of all this would feel silly. Because you knew he’d done it with so many others before; and surely, he had a script. But it lit something inside of you, something that was a little more than sex but still wildly fuckable.

Adam’s breath broke into turbulent huffs littered with these erotic noises you didn’t think he could hold back. You clawed at his chest, trying to hold on tighter and hear them better because it was the best damn thing you ever heard.

He tipped your face towards him with the gruff demand that you look at him. Barely, you managed it, but your eyes kept fluttering shut each time he struck gold in the deepest deep of your pussy. He said something else, but it was too much. Bravely, shockingly, you pressed your free hand over his mouth and shook your head.

“Less talk,” you pleaded, hoarse and on the edge of worn out already. “More you.”

Something savage shot through his shining eyes, turning them darker than you’d seen. He licked your palm and shifted to kneel between your thighs. Without breaking contact, he captured your legs and lay your calves on his shoulders. Your loud moans turned to raucous shrieks as he threw himself into you, roughshod and sloppy. With an iron grip on your hips, he leaned forward, tipping you into an angle that rattled you from your very core. His cock dragged against the most sensitive ridges, and you were sure you could feel his heartbeat hammer down through the shaft.

You lost your goddamn mind.

Teetering on the verge of oblivion, you froze. Arched like a bow, you fisted the sheets and quaked. Higher and higher you climbed, howling like a banshee. It was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed him to be tonight.

From nowhere, everywhere, his touch broke through the haze. Deft fingers wrapped around your screeching throat and squeezed. He growled, and you knew he felt your fractured breath, the pounding of your pulse, and every thrum of your battered vocal chords. It was a claim, a pure moment of primal to send you reeling.

He hung on until the end of an orgasm that shredded your senses. You could no longer shout, couldn’t open your eyes, couldn’t hear anything other than thunderous roaring in your ears. You curled towards him. Legs, arms, brow tight, the suspense before the bomb. But he slipped his fingers in between your puffy pussy lips and set off the explosion. You tingled from soles to soul, and it felt like it wouldn’t end. Inexplicably, you found some way to be louder, cursing like a damn sailor as you crested that wave.

On the other side of it, you fell still and quiet. You yielded to the tempest, holding loosely to your tether of a man. Inside, you soared, hitting that amazing high you wanted. Flying in exactly the way you sought tonight.

Somewhere in the fuzzy exodus of your brain cells, he let go of your legs, pulled out from your quivering cunt, and shot his orgasm over the lower swell of your belly. You writhed and purred as he plied your shoulder and collarbone with kisses once more. His thumb rubbed your lower lip softly, and he nudged your nose with his the way he’d done earlier — a gesture that felt intimate and affectionate.

“Y’ok kid?”

Cracking your eyes open, you nodded and took as deep of a breath as your lungs would allow. Your body was pliant, relaxed and sated. The anxiety and tension tightening your muscles vanished, and the stress you carried for weeks was nowhere to be found.

Exquisite.

Shifting to lie on his side, Adam tugged you closer, ready to bask in the afterglow. You had plans, though, and you wiggled up to kiss the corner of his mouth softly before sliding from the disheveled covers. Pushing a pillow under his head, he engulfed your bed nearly entirely, making it look far more appealing than it ever had before.

You almost told him it was ok to leave, but something inside said no. Besides, he looked awfully comfortable.

Naked and wobbly on your feet, covered in the evidence of your tryst, you crossed over to the little table lined up against the wall across from the bed. It was tucked almost into the corner, unnoticeable to most unless you looked for it or knew what you looked at.

Sinking to the floor in front of it, you stretched your arms above your head and tilted your head from side to side as you did whenever you settled to work. It was a ritual unto itself before the ritual. Readying your body to match your mind and heart.

Your eyes darted over the prepared ingredients, looking for the 30th time to be sure you forgot nothing. That’s when it occurred to you. Something unexpected always popped up, a curve ball the universe threw at you; and tonight was no different. Pushing to your feet, you hopped back into the kitchen for his gift. The sweet gesture he never could have expected would be so appropriate.

When you turned to face the room, you found that Adam had slid from the bed and plopped down in front of your altar. He wasn’t touching anything, just looking, but he sat cross-legged where you needed to be. He noticed you watching him and held out his hand for you.

“C’mere.”

Cautiously, you took his hand and let him situate you between his legs, scooting you close enough to the altar to work but keeping you nestled in with his chest scraping your back. He stroked your hips, your spine, anything he could reach.

“What’re we doing?”

Your hand stalled because he said ‘we.’ You made it a rule to keep your craft private, for yourself only. You especially didn’t share the details with men because they liked to belittle things they didn’t understand. Adam, though, looked ardent in his question, and it birthed a warmth in your chest you’d not been ready for.

“I’m…” You faltered, trying to find a way to explain what was happening to someone who likely had no idea about any of this. But he nuzzled you like a puppy, and your smile led the way. “It's welcoming work.”

The way he sat up straighter, moved your hair to one side so he could see better, and leaned into you, threatened to melt you into a puddle of goo.

“I need to welcome a new city,” you said. “New job. New apartment. New opportunities and friends.”

You laid your head back against his shoulder as you talked, as though the intimacy you’d shared with him tonight had always been there.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time, and it’s a new moon tonight.” You pointed at your calendar, which tracked lunar cycles. “Which is the time to work on beginnings, to set intentions for the future. All things begin in darkness; so, we start when the moon is darkest. And we face east,” you pointed to the wall, “because all things begin in the east.”

“What’s the sex bit?”

You beamed, feeling lighter and better than you had in a long time. You found yourself glad you didn’t hide your aim from him. You probably could have gotten away with it, but it wouldn’t feel like this. There wouldn’t be this comfort or this easiness to share.

“Sex is one of the best ways to raise energy. It gets your heart beating and your blood pumping. It's very potent.”

“You’re damn right I’m potent.” He puffed up like a peacock before smoothing out his tone into that sassy seduction. “Told you I’d spoil you.”

His boasting was alarmingly charming. You nodded along, because there was no way to disagree now that he’d disarmed and dicked you down you so thoroughly. Taking his cue to carry on, you tapped the different jars assembled around the little black bowl.

“Rosemary for protection. Lavender for calm and joy. Birch for beginnings. Hibiscus for love and passion. And now,” you plucked his flower from the corner of the table. “Carnation for strength.”

The proud way his chest expanded against your back did not go unnoticed. He was happy to have added something to the mix, even if he hadn’t done so on purpose. You grinned, patted his hand, and stage whispered ‘good job.’

Subtly, the moment changed, transmuting to quiet concentration. Adam drew little circles on your skin, falling into a serene silence while you worked. You placed a spoonful of each ingredient into the mortar. As you often did, you fell into humming a lilting song that connected you to the work. Pestle in hand, you ground it all together, concentrating on the melding of all of that intention.

You, your world, slid into tranquil. Your breathing fell into a pattern with his. The smell of sex and flowers blended beautifully. Dubious though you had been for him to sit here with you, he lent you a bolstering you couldn’t have predicted. Adam was doggedly sure of himself. He was solid, a surprising support with no measure of judgment. It was the sort of acceptance you wanted for all the parts of you, not just those people were used to seeing. Having him be that for you for this, in setting these objectives, was the last bit you didn’t know you needed.

Pouring the ground herbs onto a sheet of wax paper, you dabbed a bit of rosemary oil onto the slender green candle, making sure the column was coated. He cheekily held your bottom when you leaned forward and tipped off of his lap, suddenly concerned with ‘helping’ as you rolled the candle through the mixture. Carefully, you placed the dressed candle into its holder, being sure to not tap off any excess lest you lose that bit in the coming days.

Striking a match, you lit the wick and watched for a while as it burned. You felt seen, protected, ready. Shifting, you plucked a bay leaf from the waiting pile and wrote your planned words upon it. This was the last part, but you hesitated. Adam had been so kind, so present and willing.

“Would you like to do this part, too?” You offered a dried leaf to him. “Write what you want; and then, we burn it in the flame to send it out into the universe.”

“What I want?” His fingers made the leaf look ridiculously small, but he was gentle with it, taking care to not tear the edges. “Like a million dollars or something?”

You snorted playfully, handed him the pen, and settled against his chest.

“Probably start with something simpler.”

You could wait however long it took him to decide. He set the leaf on the table, and you held it in place for him. It wasn’t easy to write on something so small, and you’d learned long ago to hold them down.

Abruptly, his free hand clamped over your eyes, and he jarred you to the left, still holding you but forcing you away from what he wrote.

“No peeking.”

You yipped, and you could feel him grinning like a fiend. When he finished, he helped you sit upright with both of his arms around you once more. He kissed your temple and returned to stroking your side slowly, his knuckles following the contours of your body. Holding your leaf to the flame, you watched the end catch fire and the black char consume it slowly, deliberately, as fire was wont to do. Matching suit, Adam pressed you tighter to him and lifted his leaf.

You gazed into the flame, content and not entirely paying attention; but he lingered, hovering just outside the light. Your eyes came to focus, and you saw his scrawled words.

‘More sex magic’ on one side and ‘Be mine’ on the other, like a valentine.

Your breathing, which had become so mild and centered, hitched, which was what he waited for because, when he figured you’d seen what he wrote, he set it to the flame, igniting his own intention.

For a long moment, you basked in the feeling, the beautiful, beautiful mood. It was everything you wanted it to be without not knowing all the pieces and parts. You expected him to fuck you silly, but you had no way to know that he was supposed to be here for this. It would have felt lacking without him, though, and the realization of that fact had your hands seeking contact.

“Thank you, Adam.” You splayed your fingers at his outer thigh, comforted by how real he felt. “That was lovely. Thank you.”

He buried his face into your hair and pressed kisses to the nape of your neck.

“What do we do now?”

He shifted against you, hands turning a little more than affectionate. The stroking that was innocent at your sides turned devious at your breasts, kneading and plucking. A matching hot palm found your tender pussy and cupped it, not quite interrupting the moment but skirting dangerously close.

“We leave the candle to burn down.”

“Hm. Think my wish is gonna come true before yours.”

You meant to laugh but gasped instead as a nip to your ear tripped a shudder down your spine. Adam’s thick fingers slid through the still slippery mess of your labia. He trapped you in this cubby made of his body while he fondled your clit, rubbing the slick nub in lazy circles.

“I do have a question, though.”

You had no idea how you were supposed to answer questions with him working your clit like that, but you still nodded for him to ask.

“If a little sex magic is good, a little more is better, yeah?”

♪ Got your spell on me, baby You got your spell on me, baby Yes, you got your spell on me, baby ♪

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler smut #adam sackler imagine #sackler x reader

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snapefiction · 4 years

Text

You are all I am still being for - Snapefiction

A/N: Thank you so much for this Request! ( @artisticreptilequeen ) I had a fun but also hard time writing it and by now I have read it like a thousand times and can't decide wether I like or dislike it anymore but still as always- I hope you love it! Happy Valentines day and don't forget to love yourself. 💓

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Word Count: 7338

Trigger Warnings: Breakup, Swearing, Angst

Y/N - Your Name

You are all I am still being for

It was always quite clear to you of how you imagined your Future. Since Severus entered your life or more likely stumbled into your life he was a part of your planned Future. And Despite everyones expectations the both of you connected quickly and stayed together even after you both graduated. It wasn’t easy to make things work all the time, it was rather tough and tricky. But it never had really bothered you. Not until now. You rarely spoke anymore. You lived together but past each other. You simply became strangers. So the both of you knew what would have to happen.

Looking in his eyes you couldn’t see the warmth they once gave you but shivers.Looking in his eyes you felt like you looked through them.

,,Is it because of me?“ He shook his head slowly but steady. Gasping for a bit of air he hesitated before answering.

,,We aren’t the same anymore. I feel like-“ ,,You don’t know me anymore?“ He closed his mouth. Blinked once and lowered his Glance. You knew that feeling and you also knew defeat. There was no difference anymore. Not in his words wether in his actions. You were defeated and it took over your relationship.

,,We have changed. We won’t work out anymore.“ The Words swept through the room as your Eyes looked into each others again. Now it was you. You gasped for air only to hold back a sob. As Always he hurried over to you, slung his arms around your bent figure and leaned his head on yours.The Tears were streaming- they didn’t even announce themselves but just flood out of your eyes as soon as the heartbreaking sob left your lips. There were so many Moments you knew that a relationship wouldn’t be able to last through this. Some things break under pressure and now as sad as it was - it was your time to break. Your greatest Vulnerability hit you and somehow you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fully recover from this.

„I´ll miss you.“ You said not really knowing how honest those words were meant to be.

- Four Months. It have been four Months since you and Severus have broken. Not only did you move out of your shared chambers but also quit your Job at Hogwarts.You were desperate to try something new for a long time now and maybe this would be your new start into a new adventure.

Thinking about it you almost smiled. You had a rough time lately, well, you literally just broke up with your ex boyfriend of more than just a few intense years. For Today was set a Celebration in honour of Hogwarts and the end of the School year. Also you counted it as your Goodbye to the castle and hoped it would made you feel anything more like a independent Person who was about to seek a new adventure. So you wore your prettiest Clothes, pinned up your hair and prep talked yourself ready for the Party. Remus, your best friend told you to meet him there. So you made your way there being excited and happy. There was almost no chance that Severus would be there too since he despised Parties and People in general . Perfect for you. Walking through the Room, grabbing a drink you were looking for your best friend. He was always late since he started dating Tonks which you actually didn’t mind. Soaking yourself in the Expectation that Remus would follow you any minute you looked around and greeted some guests. Until your eyes met her. She was like jewellery hanging on his arm decorating him. Severus was there with someone. Quickly turning to Filius who suddenly just stood next to you, you asked him everything about her.

,,Filius, who’s that girl?“ As he answered you didn’t even noticed how you stopped paying attention to him after he gave you enough information. All you saw were them.

Sky. She was literally named after the beautifulest creations of all and you couldn’t hold your thoughts back but compare yourself to her. To her beauty as she stood there in the dim candlelight. To her laughter as she laughed slightly at one of someones jokes. To her smile as she appreciated nice words from one of the other guests. To her whole being as she stood this close to the Man you still loved. She was perfect and like a avalanche self doubt, sorrow and even self pity swept you off the ground. At first you just stared over to her again and again, then you began to walk from the middle of the room to the edge only to crook your Posture and hoped to become invisible. She was so slim, so beautiful, so smart and interesting while you felt like a useless speck of dust. Even if you wouldn’t compare yourself to her you wouldn’t be able to not notice the way he looked at her. How Severus laid his Hand on her upper back. How he smiled and drank from his Glas. How he actually made people smile. Your stomach turned and you intended to leave the room. Enough is enough. Your feet carried you outwards the Room through the corridors to your Chambers. As if it wasn’t enough that you had to see her you also had to see him in a way that you weren’t able to make him - happy. Pressing your lips to a thin line you tried to swallow the sobs that pressured to be let out. The Tears were already flooding but you told yourself you would hold back as long as you can. The Halls seemed endless long and you tried to not think of every memory you had shared with him that drained you to a total breakdown.

It was too much for your dear heart to handle. Seeing him not noticing you was a lot but seeing him not noticing you because he was happy with someone else was summoning all your worst nightmares. Also it weren’t just your feelings. It was the physical Pain it caused you. The way your chest burned and heart was in pure pain. How your fingertips turned numb, your earlobes felt warm, your knees almost gave in and your face became puffy and red. It was the pain of it all. And by that it was clear. The both of you were officially broken up.

Hearing a knock you got out off bed. You pulled your Jacket over your arms and tiptoed to the door. Merlin, it was way to late for visitors. You have been falling asleep while crying earlier and would’ve wished it could’ve stayed this way. Opening the Door it was Remus standing in the middle of the frame waiting for you.

,,How are you?“ Shrugging your shoulders you stepped aside. As if your puffy face, the way you left the Party early and probably Filius confused reaction weren’t enough to tell.

,,How am I supposed to feel after that?“ Smiling emphatically with pity he accepted the silent invite and sat down at your sofa. Following him you started to babble. „Do you know her? Did you knew about this?“ The words you actually didn’t expected a answer but they left your mouth so quickly.

Sighing he nodded almost invisible. ,,I’ve met her at the Ministry before but I didn’t knew about their relationship or whatever it may be. Oddly he hasn’t told me when I picked up my Potions.“ A small ironic laughter escaped you. Severus would probably never get along with Remus.

,,Of course not. I´m sorry, it´s just.. I’m still..“

,,Hurt?“ He took the teapot from the desk and filled two cuppas for the both of you. Shrugging your shoulders which felt like you had to carry a enormous weight you didn’t answer any further and tried to sort your thoughts.

,,There are only three weeks left of school and i have talked to Sirius-´´He passed you your teacup. ,,And he’d glad to welcome you. Until you found a place of your own.“ Your eyes were locked with the cup in your Hands. You tried to forget this part. All your belongings were still at Severus House at Spinners End. You couldn’t stay there any longer and had to get them. You had to face the bare truth one last time before your past would be able to vanish behind all the barriers that you were trying to build.

,,Y/N?“ Looking up you just nodded. ,,Thank you, Remus. It’s tough finding something- those are tough times.“ Again he smiled. As always was Remus proving you that he’d always be there to help you out.

,,Do you think I can get my stuff this weekend and get it to the Grimmaulds Place? I don’t want to step on Severus toes and rely on him any longer than needed.“

,,Sirius told me that you’re welcome any time.“ Swallowing a lump from your throat you looked at him.

,,What would I do without you?“ Refilling his cup again he laughed.

,,No worries, dear. That’s what friends are for. Can I help you with something else?“

,,No.“ You sighed and tried to smile gratefully. ,,Can you just talk to me about something else?“ And after that he told you about anything that had happened at the Party besides Severus. About how Filch danced with Mrs. Norris, Hagrid and Filius sang together and Horace Slughorn himself broke his own Butterbeer Record.

The Weekend crept around rather quickly and as you were walking out of the cabin it was like a Suction. You took in everything at once. The smell of Severus that laid in the Air. The small Details hidden in his Bookshelves, the flair of the house itself. Everything.

This didn’t feel like leaving Severus, you thought, it feels like losing your Home. At first you weren’t daring to walk around so you just hurried upstairs. Grabbing your Bag you charmed it so you’d be able to make everything fit in there. You grabbed your clothes, your notebooks, a few of your books, personal belongings and last but not least you stopped at your Night shelf. Pulling it open you looked at the Necklace that Severus had gotten you as Teenagers. At the Letters you kept from him. The Newspaper Article of him and his favourite Book that he wanted to know safe in your Possession. Those were the last things connecting you to him. For a second you stopped. Looking at the content from above before only taking the Letters you once received from him. Those other things simply weren’t meant for you anymore.

Shoving them carefully into your Bag you closed it up and pulled it over your shoulder. This would be the last time that you’d visit this place. For a moment you thought about walking around one last time and soaking all the left memories in but as you heard noises from downstairs you apparated away. Standing in front of the Grimmaulds Place No. 12 you knew that this was your silent goodbye to Severus and the life you had connected to him.

,,Home, sweet Home. Or more like Room, sweet Room.“ Sirius joked while showing you your new accommodation.

,,I promise that I won’t bother you for too long.“ Shaking his Head he just laughed again.

,,You don’t bother me at all. Actually I’m pretty happy that I’m not alone in this house. Kreacher can be a dunderhead but I hope you’ll still like it here.“

,,It’s a beautiful House.“ A nod from both sides. ,,I´m glad you’re here, Y/N.“

,,Thank you, Sirius.“ Appreciating your friends benevolence you sat down on the bed.

By that he left the room and for the first time in your life you were truly alone.

Your Job at the Ministry started well. Your colleagues were warm hearted and welcomed you quickly. It was easy to fulfil every expectations and still have fun at work. So it came that you connected to your colleagues quickly too. Especially with Achilles Grey. A young blonde Man who was working in a office above you. He was offering to show you around and connected his intentions by also inviting you to dinner afterwards. At first you declined but after a few weeks you gave in to get his begging to an end.

Seeing Achilles was different. He was mindful. He pushed your chair back for you. He didn’t kiss your Lips but the back of your Hand as a greeting. He brought you Flowers every now and then and he cared. He cared for you. And when he kissed you on this night after he took you out for dinner everything was different. Your heart broke again. It broke in two. Because for once you were happy again but it wasn’t with the Person you planned your life out with. It was bittersweet.

Slowly, torturing slowly for him but for you furiously fast, you two grew closer together. And after five Months of meeting up for dinners regularly, talking within your breaks and having his full attention at all times you two entered a committed relationship.

It’s not like you asked him to give you presents all the time, focusing completely on you, having him always paying dinner and anything else but he practically begged you to let him do this for you. He wanted to spoil you rotten as his love language. It was a confusion trait of your relationship because you simply weren’t used to this. To love loudly and openly. It wasn’t balanced like with Severus. With Achilles it was all or nothing, he loved in extreme ways. Or at least that’s the way you felt like. Everyone around you was admiring your relationship calling it unique and meant to be.

You didn’t knew what your relationship really depended on. Was it Love? Trust? Or just the need of being with someone? Was it the fear of being alone? Whatever it was, it was a lot. And it was fast. So to relieve Sirius hospitality you even accepted to move in with Achilles after a short amount of being together. Things went on quickly but Achilles never mind. Actually sometimes he was already talking about a marriage or children as he couldn’t wait to finally achieve the Life he dreamed about so badly.

Sobbing you walked through the Grimmaulds Place. It was horrific. Another Fight within three days. Quickly you walked through the Corridor only to run up the Stairs where you almost crushed together with Remus. Wiping your eyes you tried to hide your pain.

,,Y/N..“ He didn’t asked what had happened since he already knew what had been going on. Without saying anything he embraced your hug. Sushing silently he patted your Back. ,,If you’d like to talk- then Sirius and I are always here for you.“

Nodding you carefully let go while trying not to cry for a few seconds. He was right. It wasn’t right of you to storm his house regularly without telling him what was going on at all. So a few Minutes later you found yourself sitting at the long table starting to talk about Achilles and yours Relationship.

„He wants it. He wants it all. A Family with children, a House to call our own, a Marriage, Me and if it’s possible everything by tomorrow. And he loves me so much. I can’t remember someone loving me so much. But I never felt so alone. So alone and lost. I’m not ready for this. I can’t give him all of this.“ You ended admitting while wiping your nose not daring to look up to the both of them. Your friends have never seen you like that. You never have talked to them about your relationship with Severus because except the part that you grew to live apart you never had issues like that. Only when it was too late they had to carry your sorrow and take care of you the way you’ve down for them a million times before.

,,It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything of that.“ Remus began shoving some chocolate over the Table.

,,He’s a Prick for always fighting with you.“ Sirius began and the Conversation just got lost in a discussion about what you truly deserved and some more and some less precious advices from them. The Conversation went along in front of your eyes but you weren’t a part of it. That’s how you have felt since a while now. Life went on in front of your eyes but you weren’t a part of it. You felt like a doll. Living up to everyone exceptions of a good girlfriend, friend, worker and human. But you didn’t notice how quickly you lost yourself.

You hated the Heat. You turned to hate the Summer. You’ve been together with Achilles something over a year yet which lead to certain events happening. Big Events happening and following. Nervous you sat down at one of the rather rare Meetings of the Order. After Voldemorts Death multiple Years ago you only met up a few times a year. That’s why everyone was greeting each other happily and waited for everyone to meet up.

,,It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.“ Albus spoke softly to you. ,,And congratulations on the Engagement.“ Nodding you tried to over hear it and somehow play it off. Engagement. What a irrational idea of itself, you thought.

,,Engagement?“ Molly quickly gasped and hurried over to look at the Ring on your Hand. ,,When did he ask you? How did he ask you?“ Quietly you started to talk while Molly held onto your Finger.

,,We went on a walk and at our favourite Place he dropped on one knee and asked me.“ Your mumbled. You felt so exposed and exploited and couldn’t feel the happiness that everyone was showing you. The whole Situation died down completely as Severus walked in. Molly let go of your hand and smilingly went to the Kitchen to get more tea. But Severus eyes immediately fell on you. On the Ring on your Hand. His reaction was important for you. You couldn’t tell why but you had to know how he reacts but when he showed you no emotion at all you felt disappointed. He only had to say one word and you’d change your mind on being with Achilles. Severus still owned your feelings but time made you change your Priorities. Why being with someone who can’t love me back? So why shouldn’t I be in a relationship with someone who was loving me to pieces and make him happy and fulfil his wishes. Even if it had cost you your happiness.

Slowly guiding the beautiful white dress over your curves you looked at yourself in the mirror. Pressing your lips to a thin line you tried to figure out who that in the mirror might be. It wasn’t the self vision you once owned by yourself anymore. It was a lonely human, a silent human. So much has changed in the last time and still you never found happiness in not even one thing. You simply became a version of yourself that you never knew laid within you. The silent version. The one that had no energy anymore. The one that forgot to laugh. But you have told yourself that you loved him, you loved Achilles so that’s why you were saying yes all those time ago and now willed to marry him.

Quietly almost inaudible you heard a small short knock. Was it a knock? Or just imagination? As you intended to call them in you heard a loud knock. A determined one.

,,Come in.“ You said while pulling the dress over your shoulders and putting the veil in your hair. Slow and silent Movements were now to be heard in the room.

,,Achilles, it’s bad luck that you see me before the ceremony.“ You whispered while turning away from the mirror now not being able to see him and sliding into your shoes. He never had high expectations when it was a bout rules or traditions. The Figure stood behind you but you just closed your eyes. Even if he hated traditions you wouldn’t ruin them. But as he said nothing you got confused. Wasn’t he supposed to already await you at the Aisle?

,,Please, don’t marry him.“ Your eyes shot open and your feet quickly made you spun around. You’d recognise his voice out of a million ones. Blinking you tried to hold back tears that quickly swelled up. Your Lips shivered but you weren’t able to form sentences besides a small: ,,What?“.

Severus was standing there in front of you, not Achilles. His tall Figure was enveloped in his formal black suit. He looked thinner and his face wasn’t just usually pale but almost grey. Damp hung his hair low covering a half of his face. He had gotten some brighter hairs between his black ones. Like you were caught in a dream you looked up to him. He also seemed to be taller which was probably just a fabrication of your fantasy. But in your mind he was almost towering you.

„Don´t marry him, Y/N.“ The onyx eyes became glossy as they connected to yours again. For a second you forgot what he meant or which Wedding he was indicating to. Until his desperate voice made you realise it quickly like they would hit you with a brick.

,,I can see that you’re not happy.“ His Hands rushed through his hair brushing strains behind his ear. ,,Please. We´re both not happy anymore, are we?“ Your Throat was like sealed. You were looking for words but there were no right words for you. Whatever you’d say now was decisive for someone else’s life.

,,Severus, I don’t know what to say. You know that- I can’t do this.“ Quickly he shook his head.

,,Why not?“ Your eyes scanned the room in hectic while avoiding him. Was this real? Your heart was blasting against your ribcage.,,Because it’s not fair. I can’t do this to him on our meant to be wedding day.“ Quickly Severus took your hands in his.

,,You know that that’s not true. It was never fair of him to force this Engagement on to you.“ Suddenly he stood so close. Your breathing slowed down and you closed your eyes only to feel his presence.

,,What do you want me to do? What am I supposed to say?“ One of his tall Hands wandered under your chin only to make you look up to him.

,,Tell him the Truth. That he isn’t good enough for you and never will be. That you despise everything about him.About this Life and that you’re way better off with-"

,,With you? Is that what you’re trying to say? If I may remind you-" You pulled your chin away and let go of his hand only to step back a few feet. ,,If I may remind you of the Fact that you didn’t want me either. That we weren’t good enough for each other as well.“ Pulling off your Gloves you sniffed. ,,You did a very good Job at proving it to me everyday.“ Tears started to smear your make up but you couldn't care less. This - whatever was happening right now - was more important than anything else to you. Now it was Severus who hesitated before he shook his head.

,,But I still love you. Everyday I wake up I realise it’s only you that I’m still living for. Without you I would’ve been dead by now a million times. Everyday I survived I dedicate to you. And I know that if you will marry this idiocy of a man I won’t be tomorrow. I will break into a thousand pieces and spend the rest of my life thinking about a life that could've been mine. I can't pretend that everything is fine when you're back at Hogwarts when I know you made a big mistake. You are all I am still being for. Are you even happy anymore? Please, don’t marry him. That’s all I’m asking for. Not any other chances or anything else but please don’t marry him.“

,,Now that I'm trying to do something right you show up and want me to give up everything I build up."

,,I ask you to do the right thing for yourself." He concluded before taking a step forward. Your Voices were now risen out of the heat just to turn down in the following second.

,,What about Sky? What about Achilles? What about me? What are we supposed to do?" Again he tried to reach out for your hand. Just to hold it carefully.

,,Sky? She never was important to me and Achilles has been engaged several times before which he always called off on his own. He will survive. But I want you to survive and to be able to become happy again. I saw your face when you announced the Engagement that wasn’t love you were talking about. I know your love.“

,,I spent my entire Life loving you and .. and now you ask me to do the unbearable for you. All the Reasons you named.. they were all dedicating to your own luck."

,,Because you are my Luck."

,,Severus, This is not a Game."

,,I know it's hard and I know that you're confused. But if you ever doubted this and want to run away I will be waiting for you in front of the Church."

He slightly pressed your hand carefully before taking a last deep look in your eyes only to vanish behind the white old wooden door.

The only thing left you could hear was your heartbeat. How loud your blood pressed through your veins and ended up in that burning point behind your ribs. Your mouth run dry and you didn't dare to move. Did this really happen? Was he really here? A mixture of every possible emotion was rushing through you.

Even though you knew the hurtful consequences you did the only right thing left to do. Time was rushing and your blood pressure was working up louder and louder in your ears like you woke up from a fever dream.

Your feet hurt from the high white shoes that you had been wearing all day long but now wasn’t the time to complain. And when you took the stairs, almost running you felt like you'd escape. Like you were breaking free. The Bells rung which was your sign to walk up the aisle. But instead of running to the chapel your feet carried you through the huge doors. Away from the few people that have been waiting for this Wedding. Away from Achilles, his Life and all his expectations that never suited you anyways.

And when you opened the door to the old blue shabby car you just grabbed your dress and left everything behind. As the Cardoor closed Severus didn't hesitated. He started the Motor and looked at you one last time.

,,Are you ready?“ Nodding you smiled. For the first time in years you really smiled which turned into a lough heartfelt laughter. And as soon as you crossed the corner Severus let the car fly towards a new destination that would now change your life for the better.

Two months later. To be exact two months, nine days and almost 9 Hours later you were nervously standing in front of Achilles and your Flats Door. Just Breathe- you told yourself which had a rather uncalming effect because you were already breathing, right? And it wasn't solving your problems just like that. Knocking twice he already opened the door. The Frown on his face was hurtful but you had no right to be hurt. You did this to him and you felt no regrets so you had to go through this.

,,Y/N." He greeted before walking down the Flat you just until the latest events have had shared.

,,Achilles, can we talk for a moment?" He stopped in his tracks standing in the middle of the small hallway.

,,I don't know what you want to talk about. I was just hoping that I finally found my significant other. For the first time in my life I was completely sure about something. It's just-" he turned around. ,,I'm not the one you want." His bright eyes grew glossy for a moment but then he turned back around. ,,I just hope that you're happier." And by that he lead the way for you to the bedroom. He already collected some things of yours and lined them up in the bed.

,,Thank you.“ He nodded firmly and tried not to look at you. He was dealing with it in his own strict ways. Quickly and carefully you collected your few Belongings before you turned to him one last time.

,,I'm sorry, I really am but.. I couldn't give you what you wanted so bad. You'll find them and will be the most happiest you ever were. You're a good Person." Again he just nodded and watched you leaving the Bedroom. As you held the Doorknob of the Entrance door in your hand you heard him one last time.

,,And i hope Severus will treat you right this time." Quickly you turned around. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you opened your mouth to say something but stopped quickly. You haven't though about getting back together with Severus until just now. He helped you move back to Hogwarts and that Thing at the Wedding. "That Thing". But getting back together? You ran away from a wedding, your wedding to be specific and now he thinks you rambled from one relationship to the next? Well, what else was he supposed to believe as you ran away with your Ex? You closed your Mouth, opened the door and left without further Words. This simply wasn’t your Home anymore.

Since the Wedding and after he helped you get back to Hogwarts Severus hasn’t had spoken to you. You hadn't intended a conversation either but also there was no possibility for it. You decided to get your thoughts straight back first.

When you were accepting the job a while back last school year which was around three months before your Wedding you weren't expecting your „comeback“ like that. Single again, running to your chambers only wearing your brides dress, your veil, white high heels and the prettiest underwear ever and starting a new chapter you knew nothing about.

It was a rare gift for you to be able to comeback to Hogwarts. After your and Severus Breakup you were quickly on your feet to practically flee from him. So as surprise as Dumbledore was as you left the school you were even more surprised that he asked you come back. The Job at the Ministry was alright. It was simple and the People were nice but it could never fulfil you as much as the Job as a Teacher did. Also it was no big secret that not only the Teaching at Hogwarts was special. The whole atmosphere took you back to a completely different Time. You didn’t only accept a Job but a different world of it’s own.

,,Y/N! I´m happy yer back! I think ye won’t need a Tour around, do ya?“ Hagrid joked at Dinner while shoving a whole steak into his mouth. Shaking your head you laughed only to answer:,,I don’t think so, but thank you.“ As your smile turned into a grin you noticed someone walking up to the Dinner Table as well. You didn’t had to take a look to know who it was. You’d recognise him everywhere. His steps almost echoed in the Hall and as quick as he walked he was sitting down next to you. It was weird at first, sitting next to him again after everything that had happened. The both of you haven’t talked about the wedding anymore. You haven’t talked in General and it was weird. The last time the two of you met he confessed all his feelings to you after not talking for almost a few years and now he sat there not even looking at you. It probably was his way of dealing with - with what exactly? Probably everything.

,,Good evening, Severus.“ You greeted silently before taking a bite of your favourite Food as well. Those three words costed you a lot of Courage which were quickly gifted by his response.

,,Evening.“ As Charming as always he didn’t hesitate you remain cold and as silent as possible. Continuing to eat you suddenly felt different. It didn’t feel like the new adventure anymore like you just had titled it. It was like a wave taking you over. For a second you stopped in your tracks until you realised that it was the feeling of feeling like yourself again. You grew back to the Person you aspired to be and the Person you were the most comfortable being. A great way to start your old new life you thought before finishing dinner and preparing you classes for tomorrow.

Stressed you grabbed your book and started to wander. Even though you loved teaching it could be difficult at times. Just like today you had a massive Headache. Everywhere you went was someone following and asking you questions. You knew how important the O.W.L´s are but sometimes the stressed students seem to forget how desperately you were already trying to help them reach the best Knowledge they can and how exhausted you got too after your first month back at Hogwarts. So with no other intention than finding some peace you ran up to the Astrology Tower. Holding the Book close so the last few Papers you had to grade wouldn’t slip you took a deep breath as you got there. To your surprise you weren’t alone. Severus sat there hunched over some papers looking up like a caught deer.

,,Oh, I´m sorry. I can leave if you want. I just needed a quiet Place.“

,,I did too.“ He cleared his throat. „Take a seat.“ Severus said before turning back to his book. Quietly to not disturb the silence and found peace you sat down on the floor leaning your back against the wall. You’ve been sitting on this hard chair in your office and classes all day and now you were glad to finally just lean against something and pull your knees close so you could lean your papers and book against your legs. Sometimes you heard Severus Feather scratching on the Paper or him huffing - probably because of some silly answers from one of his students. Back then the both of you used to chuckle at them together. But besides that it was silent. The Sun went slowly down and as you finally lightened some Candles he turned on his seat towards you.

,,Are you even comfortable down there?“ His pale face was turned worried but you just smiled and nodded.

,,Actually it’s way more comfortable than it may seem. You should give it a try.“ A short moment on you could see his thoughts debate but as you put your book aside and moved a little bit so he would have enough space he got up only to sit down on the floor next to you. Somehow he looked kind of lost alone there on the floor next to you. You saw that not the surface was uncomfortable for him but the Situation in general. Your smile left your lips as you began to wonder how the person you not only trusted but also loved the most could turn into a stranger.

„Isn’t it weird to-“ You took a deep breath only to pause a bit longer and continue as the words finally came to your mind. „Isn’t it weird to just sit here? After everything we’ve been through?“ His dark eyes looked over to you. He looked so tired and time had made him age years. „I do not only miss you.. I miss my Best Friend.“ His lips were sealed as he listened to your confession. As always he sorted his Thoughts first before saying anything. A nod followed and now he straightened his Back.

„We’ve been together our whole Life. It’s not easy to ignore it all and act like there has never been anything between the both of us.“ His eyes didn’t leave yours. He was paying full attention to all of you right now.

„Be honest.“ Your Heart raced like crazy as it was a important Question for you. „Don’t you miss me just a bit?“ Rolling his eyes he shook his head smiling vividly.

„You really think I wouldn’t miss you?“ Carefully his Hand crept closer to yours until he took it in his. „Why would I have made you changed your mind at the Wedding if I wasn’t missing you?“

„You make it look so easy.“ Your Body moved closer to him. This burning sensation came back until your faces were so close the tip of your noses touched and your lips could almost feel the warmth of his. The intensity of your feelings were almost overtaking you.

„You do too.“ His eyes were closed and he had to restrain as good as he could trying to give you the space you asked for so badly a few years ago. His heart was racing, screaming at him to move to fill the little gasp between you. But he didn’t do it.

„We both know we wouldn’t work out in a relationship.“ He mumbled and when his Lip accidentally stroked yours for a millisecond he almost broke down.

„We could.. just for the melancholy..“ Your eyes were closed by now too. Being this close was messing with your senses. His smell was filling your nose, his air filling your lungs and he at all made your blood boil.„Just a kiss.“ You whsipered.

„Just a kiss.“ Nodding, because you were unable to speak you felt him finally doing it. His Lips touched yours. Eagerly, hungry, loving. His Hands left yours and his cupped your cheeks only to deepen the kiss and make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Your Hands were grasped to his collar, he loved it whenever you did that to him. If he only knew what he still did to you. From a fast passionate kiss it slowed down to a loving desperate one. Gasping for air you had to let go of him. His eyes were widened and he was shocked.

„Just for the Melancholy.“ He now repeated while nodding quickly and Severus kissed you again. Again. Again. And again. You lost the track of time for a moment. Just a loud Noise made you tear apart. You accidentally pushed one of the Candleholders over. Flustered and blushing you woke up from the Trance that had overtaken you. The Wax had spilled on the Floor and as it splashed right next to your Papers you quickly got up to check up on those. As you flicked through the Pages you sighed in relief. Thankfully everything was till fine. In the Meantime was Severus already casting away the spilled Mess and made some distance between the both of you. He was still overwhelmed by the Situation, just as you were.

„Do you want me to walk you back to your chambers? It’s already very late.“ A smile widened on your face as you got up from the Floor. „Just for the Melancholy?“ Quickly he smiled and even though he tried to hide his cheeks behind his curtain of hair you saw him blushing. The walk was silent at first. You were still thinking about what had happened but as your chambers got closer and closer you just started to babble about the first thing that came into your mind until you did reach your door. Severus was listening carefully to every word you spoke. He always has been a good listener and you knew how much more he enjoyed to listen rather than to speak. Holding the Doorknob in your Hand you smiled vividly at him.

„Thank you.“ His Figure in this dim light made your knees weak. All the thoughts about him made you weak. He made you vulnerable again.

„Goodnight, Y/N.“ And as you walked into your chambers and saw those raw Walls again you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. All your Thoughts this night would be dedicated to Severus, again. You were so thankful that he had been saving you from one of the worst decisions that you could’ve ever made.

It became a habitat of yours to finish your classes as fast as you could, eat some lunch and then finally almost run to the Astrology Tower every Afternoon. And as always as you saw him you two promised that there were no Feelings attached and it was just for the Melancholy. At first you thought it would be a clever idea. Hide all your Feelings behind this Barriers of Lies. But time proved you wrong. You felt this addiction again, you wanted more of him ,no- you needed more of him. Each one of the thousands of Kisses made you desperate for more. Things got more and more steamy. Hands started wandering more and further and every Night you walked back to your Rooms with him by your side only to drop you off to shorter Nights and needier and more desperate Thoughts than ever. The rest that was left of you now was just a mess. You needed to talk to him, get the collected Frustration that build up finally released. You needed clarification. After three Months of meeting him everyday you needed him to know about your emotions.

You even skipped Lunch to run to the Astronomy Tower. You couldn’t wait to talk to him. Of course you were afraid since the only thing that made this flirtation work was the pretext of doing it because anything else wouldn’t work out in other contexts. But for you it wasn’t just Melancholy anymore. It probably never was.

Opening the Door you saw the Room being left empty. Empty? Severus was always here. He never ate Lunch and just graded his Papers in peace. Where was he? Out of Fear you could miss him you sat down and waited. Time never passed this slow but today was every second punishing you. The Sun went down again and your patience broke down completely. Running like your life was depending on it you hurried down to the Dungeons. Your nervousness made your vision blurry and thoughts crazy. So when you finally reached Severus Door you knocked as loud as you could fearing it was almost too late to confess yourself to him since it was your turn to finally admit yourself towards him. And the both of you knew that.

He hasn´t fully opened his door yet but you were already talking. „Severus, I love you. I cannot act like this between us wouldn’t work out anymore. I know it would because I’m willing to do anything to make it work, okay? You’re the most important Person in my Life and-“

„Y/N!“ He now finally interrupted slightly taken by surprise. He took your Hand in his only to pull you inside his Rooms. Remus who was probably just picking up some Wolfsbane quickly hurried out of the room but not without grinning widely. You didn’t really pay any attention to him. You were just looking at the dark tall man in front of you which you adored so much. As the door was finally closed behind Lupin he let go of your Hand and pulled you into a tight Hug.

„Welcome Home, Love. I have missed you so much.“

Taglist: @deepperplexity , @monstreviolet , @wow-life-love4 , @lizlil , @once-upon-an-imagine , @darkthought15 , @elizabeth-baelish , @looseheartedlady , @ithinkweallsing , @simpforsnape , @meteoritewolf69 , @1975weasley , @morphineisouthoney

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#severus snape #snape #snapefiction #my writing #severus snape x reader #snape x reader #snape x y/n #severus snape x y/n #prosnape

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vampiregirl1797 · 4 years

Text

When You Need to Escape to Your Happy Place

Spencer Reid x Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here For Masterlist.

Word Count: 2,621

Warnings: talk of a toxic relationship, but otherwise SO MUCH FLUFF.

Summary: A fight with your father leads to you seeking out Spencer’s calming presence.

‘Can I come over?’ I said, speaking quietly in an attempt to keep my voice from cracking due to all the tears I’d shed in the past hour.

‘Of course you can.’ Spencer’s voice was soft, but I could hear the concern in his tone— he knew me well enough to know that a call past 11pm followed by me asking to come over meant one of two things: I was drunk, or I’d had a fight with my dad again and I needed to get out of the house. In this case, it was the latter.

‘Great, I’ll be up in a few minutes.’ I murmured, hanging up the phone and wiping the moisture from my cheeks with the sleeve of the oversized hoodie I was wearing.

Spence had become my safe place, somewhere I could escape and feel content and free. My dad and I didn’t get along, and honestly it had been that way for as long as I could remember. I’d given up hope that we ever would, but that revelation didn’t help when I was still living at home and was faced with his presence more often than not. The relationship was complicated, but honestly I couldn’t wait for the day I could afford to move out and never have to live through forced conversations again. The thing with my dad was... he was a bully. An emotionally manipulative bully. Maybe it was harsh, and a few years ago I would have felt awful for even thinking it, never mind saying it aloud, but it was the truth. Our opinions differed, and when they did he would scream at me and tell me I was childish for not respecting his opinion, when in actuality I had no problem respecting that his views were different from mine. What I did have an issue with was him being blatantly ignorant to the information I tried to bring to his attention, especially if that would lead to him questioning his own opinions.

Aside from that, he also didn’t respect my personal space, or my right to have control over my own body. I’ve never been close with my dad, perhaps due to our differing personalities, but either way I’ve never felt comfortable around him. Whenever he’s in a room, I’m hyper aware of his presence, unable to completely relax. If he’s on the same sofa, I’m focused on making sure he stays out of my space, the prospect of him accidentally touching me putting me on edge. I’m less chatty, partly because I know he most likely won’t respond to anything I say to him anyway, but also because I minimise my talking to avoid saying something that may lead to an argument. Occasionally, he’d demand a hug, or some form of affection. He wouldn’t ask, he would demand: ‘give me a cuddle’ or ‘give me a hug.’ Now for me, this would be equivalent to a stranger walking up to me and demanding physical affection like I owe it to them. When I say no, he pulls his face and makes snide comments intended to make me feel guilty or to earn my mum’s attention to get her in on the guilt trip too. I don’t understand how he thinks I’d feel comfortable enough around him to casually give him a hug, especially since we’ve never been close, and we don’t get along. It’s as if he feels he’s owed affection from me because I’m his daughter, and that’s not the case.

Due to our distant relationship in close living quarters, I was unable to act like I wasn’t uncomfortable around him, it was apparent in my tone whenever he spoke to me and I answered him, it was obvious in my behaviour whenever he ‘told’ me to do something (he never asked) and as a result, we argued a lot over my “attitude” towards him. And believe me, I’d beaten myself up over my tone when I speak to him more than a hundred times, and I’ve actively tried not to do it, but it’s instinctive and because I simply cannot pretend to be something I’m not. I just can’t do it.

This was why we’d argued tonight. He’d told me to clean the living-room, I’d put some Ariana Grande on over the Alexa, he’d yelled at me for putting it on too loudly because of the dog, I’d pointed out that mum had it the same volume whenever she cleaned the house and it was never a problem then. I’d tried turning it down but I couldn’t hear it loudly enough to get into the proper groove of cleaning, I’d stormed to my room to grab my headphones, he’d lectured me and told me my attitude stinks and ordered me out of his sight. So after throwing on some sweats and an oversized hoodie I’d stolen from Spencer a few weeks prior, I’d left. I ended up driving around for a while and when I stopped I found myself in front of Spencer’s apartment building.

‘Hey honey,’ Spence greeted after he’d opened the door. He waited until I’d stepped inside before he asked the question that made my already brittle defences crumble, ‘are you okay?’

Just like that, the tears returned and I found myself instinctually nuzzling into his chest as his arms wrapped around me. I loved being in Spencer’s arms, he was so tall that being hugged by him was guaranteed to make me feel safe and content as I was surrounded by his scent and warmth. I don’t know how long he held me for, but by the time my sobs had subsided, my throat felt raw and my head hurt from all the tears I’d shed. When I pulled back, his usually cinnamon eyes were dark with concern, but he didn’t speak, knowing by now that if I wanted to share then I would in my own time. Instead, he took my hand and led me over to his sofa, and when I saw the blankets and two cups of still steaming hot chocolate he must have prepared for my arrival, I nearly broke down in tears again. He was such an amazing, kind, considerate man and honestly I’d been in love with him from the moment we met six months ago. I’d wanted to tell him, but the timing never seemed right, with him getting called away at a moments notice because of his job, and also because I was a chicken who was afraid of him rejecting me, and then me losing him altogether.

‘I’ve bought all of your favourite movies on Prime,’ he murmured, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and allowing me to snuggle into his side, ‘what do you feel like watching?’

‘Hmm... I would love to watch Moana, but I’m intruding on you so—.’ I never got to finish as he shushed me and played the movie I’d requested.

A small but genuine smile broke out on my face and I rested my head on his chest to hide it, knowing he’d want to know the reason for the goofy expression on my face. The truth was, whenever Spencer took care of me, or did something for the simple reason that it would make me happy... it made me all warm and gooey inside. And that happiness, that warmth, often found a way to make itself known, whether it was through a blush or a goofy grin. Either way, I always attempted to hide my reaction from Spencer, afraid he would want to know the reasoning behind it.

I felt my eyes flutter closed as Spence settled a grey fluffy blanket around the both of us; the comforting warmth and the smell of him was enough to relax me down to my bones, and to allow the emotionally taxing day to catch up with me. The last thing I remembered was hearing Spence humming along to “You’re Welcome” as Mowi sang to Moana.

Waking up was disorientating when I found myself in a bed that wasn’t my own and surrounded by furniture that certainly didn’t belong in my bedroom. But then Spence’s arms tightened around my waist and I figured out where I was, relaxing again immediately. I turned to face him, my arm wrapping around his middle and my leg settling over his hip as I got as close as physically possible. A contented noise fell from my throat as I inhaled the scent of him: he smelled like citrus from his shampoo, faintly woodsy from his cologne and like soap from his fabric softener. It was heaven and I swear if I could somehow bottle it up, I’d never leave the house without it.

I didn’t realise that Spence was already awake as I rearranged myself around him, but he didn’t mind, in fact he was delighted at her willingness to snuggle back up to him once she’d remembered where she was. He’d felt her stiffen when she’d woken up, which was why he’d pulled her closer a subtle way of reminding her of his presence. Now here he was, fully rested, more comfortable than he’d ever been and able to observe Y/N’s beauty closer than he ever had without her catching him staring. If he believed in such a thing, he’d swear he’d woken up in heaven.

Despite how comfortable I was, I couldn’t fall back asleep. So after I took a few moments to appreciate the tranquility of the moment, because honestly, I’d never felt this content in well, ever, I reluctantly shuffled out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping genius. I shrugged off the hoodie I was still wearing, leaving myself in a tank top as I made my way to his kitchen, deciding to make him his favourite breakfast as a thank you for looking after me last night. I was familiar enough that pulling out the necessary appliances to make him some chocolate chip pancakes didn’t take me long, and pretty soon I was pouring his coffee and adding the obscene amount of sugar. Once that was done I was about to yell for him, but he surprised me by wrapping his arms around my waist. I squealed and almost dropped my cup of coffee, but I couldn’t deny how good it felt to have him holding me again. If he wasn’t careful, I was going to get addicted.

‘Good morning.’ He murmured against my shoulder. I shivered at the feel of his warm breath against my skin and the sound of his voice husky with sleep. God, how was it possible for me to be so attracted to him?

I cleared my throat before I answered with a, ‘good morning. I made you breakfast.’

‘You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I love your pancakes,’ He smiled brightly as I turned to hand him his plate. He seemed reluctant to release his hold on me, much to my delight, but he did and he made his way over to the breakfast bar to eat.

I slid into the stool next to him and we ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the food and waiting for the caffeine to kick in to allow us to wake up properly. After a while, I decided to share with him my reason for needing him last night, he deserved it and honestly, there was no one easier to open up to than Spencer.

‘Thank you for looking after me last night, Spence.’ I murmured, his warm cinnamon eyes were soft with understanding and another emotion that evaded me, ‘I got into a fight with my dad again, about something stupid as always, but the result was the same.’

‘I’m sorry, honey.’ He murmured, his hand enveloping my free one, the warmth from his touch radiating throughout my body, ‘you know, if you wanted, you could always move in here.’

I blinked at him, surprised at his offer, I knew how much he appreciated his space and I couldn’t believe he was offering me the opportunity to invade it, ‘Spence that’s really sweet of you to offer, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it but I can’t afford to pay rent. That’s one of the reasons I’m still at home, it’s one less expense when I start at university.’

‘You wouldn’t have to pay rent,’ he assured me, continuing before I could protest, ‘think of it as helping me out, okay? I’m gone on cases more often than not, sometimes the apartment can be empty for days at a time. If you’re here, you can look after the place for me, keep food in the fridge, and make me feel more secure knowing that someone is watching over everything. Think of that instead of rent, okay?’

I took a deep breath and thought it through instead of immediately dismissing the idea, like my instincts were telling me to— I didn’t want to take advantage of him. It would be nice to get out of my parents house, to find myself in a warm environment absent of my father’s toxic presence. Plus, living with Spencer would be like a dream come true— one I’d admittedly had a few times— but what if I got too lost in my own feelings and it ruined everything? But he would be on cases more often than not, so that limited the time I could potentially jeopardise our friendship. But I feel like I would be taking advantage of his generosity— living here rent free, only having to keep the place tidy and the fridge stocked, was that a fair exchange?

‘Just know that I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t completely happy and comfortable with my proposal.’ His soft voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I felt a sheepish smile on my face as I processed his words. He never failed to amaze me at how in tune he was with my thoughts.

‘Honestly, Spence, it sounds perfect, but I just worry that it’s not a fair exchange for you.’ I bit my lip, worried he’d realise I was right and take the offer off the table.

‘It would be, Y/N.’ His eyes softened to chocolate and shone with nothing but reassurance, ‘Honestly, more than the cleaning and grocery shopping, it would be nice to have someone here. I feel so alone when I return from a case that more often than not I’m eager to go back to escape the emptiness of my apartment. But if you’re here, it won’t feel so cold, it’ll be warm and welcoming.’

I swear to god my heart melted to a puddle of blood and goo in my chest from his words. The sincerity in his eyes told me he meant it, and what kind of heartless monster would I be to argue with him after that admission?

‘I’d love to move in with you, Spence.’ I whispered.

His smile lit up his entire face, his cinnamon eyes glittering with happiness as he wrapped me in a tight hug. I was powerless to resist his excitement and a delighted chuckle fell from my lips as he stood and span me around in a circle. A part of me couldn’t believe that this was happening, that I was finally going to be able to escape the prison I was starting to think I’d be trapped in forever, to move in with the only man I felt truly comfortable around. But one thing was for sure, in that moment, I was happier than I’d ever been in my entire life, and I knew that as long as Spencer was in my life, I’d never feel any different.

A/N: I know, I know all I’m writing is Spencer Reid imagines lately, but I can’t stop!! I hope you liked this one, even there was no declarations of love like in my previous Spencer one-shots, I kinda love how this turned out.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds

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6pmtea · 3 years

Text

Genshin Impact - A Scaramona Tangled AU (with a twist)

Enjoy!♥️

-Tangled Stars-

Chap.1

This, is the story of how I died...

But, well, it isn’t my story, really.

It’s the story of a boy, in a tower, a boy high high up in his lonely tower...

Our story begins many years ago, in the great kingdom of Inazuma...

They say, one day, from the depth of the night sky, a single star fell to earth, and from it, bloomed a mesmerizing white flower, glistening like a million stars on the clearest summer night, a magic flower, a flower that could heal all sorrow, all pain and loss, a flower of eternal life and beauty...

But, you see, many thought it a myth, a tale, and few were those who believed in, yet along looked for it.

See her? The old woman is one of those who, raised with tales and legends of the star-bloom, wasted all her life away to find the fallen star...

Remember her name, Mother Celestia, she plays a much more important role than you might think in the story I am about recount you.

She found the flower one day, her last, no doubt.

Aged and wearied, all but aimlessly wandering, with no choice than to spend the last of her life doing the only thing she’d ever known: desperately searching for a miracle...

Every night, she had repeated the song, lest she forget the magic spell, and thus she sang to the flower with her dying breath:

‘Flower gleam and glow,

let your powers shine,

make the clock reverse,

bring back what once was mine,

heal what has been hurt,

change the fates design,

save what has been lost,

bring back what once was mine,

what once was mine.’

And with her dying breath her wasted years and life found fruit, and replenished with the power of the blessed star.

See how her wrinkles faded, her hair regained color and her eyes light? How the life she spent longing for a way to lengthen it rushed back to her?

Such a gift was never meant for one, yet the woman kept it selfishly, hid it, and used it for her own gain, and the flower became her treasure and hers alone...

Until, one day, the Queen of Inazuma, expecting a child, fell ill, terribly so... A grave and fatal illness, one which neither she nor her child would recover from.

The King, filled with despair and prepared to do anything to save his beloved and his child, sent out all of the kingdom’s forces to find the long forgotten flower, to turn over every rock and every bush and find the miraculous cure.

But Celestia greedily hid it, and their searches were all but a miss.

However, one day, seeing the wrinkles start to form at the corner of her eyes once more, the woman visited the flower again and sang...

But, in her haste to leave as she heard the royal guards approaching, she could not fully conceal her treasure, and so, lost it forever.

With the tea brewed from the healing flower, the Queen recovered fully, and delivered a perfectly healthy, beautiful prince, with shimmering midnight eyes like a starry sky and hair paler than the brightest star. The King and his Queen cherished the boy dearly, and his first crown was fashioned of shining white silver, of the brightest diamonds and sapphires, and formed like a blooming star in honor of the flower that saved his life.

As old age quickly caught up to her with the loss of her gift from the stars, Celestia grew restless, and broke into the royal palace to regain her treasure, she approached the boy and sang quietly...

She rejoiced as she saw his hair softly begin to glow with the magic of the flower, but someone was near.

She quickly drew a dagger and cut two strand of hair on the child’s head to retake the flower’s powers, but immediate they turned an ashen blue and their magic faded...

Unwilling to leave her treasured flower behind, she stole the child and escaped as the King and Queen reached the room, too late, powerless as they watched her disappear with their beloved child...

Ever since, every year on their lost prince’s birthday, the whole of the Kingdom and its King and Queen, would release thousands of lanterns into the sky, hoping their darling prince would one day come home...

Celestia disappeared with the child in a hidden tower, far from the eyes of the world, and from all who would take her precious flower away again...

The child grew up locked away, alone in this tower for eighteen years.

Every year, on the night of his birthday, after Mother Celestia had gone to sleep, he would watch the stars, as his mother called them, but they looked different on his birthday, brighter, closer, different.

All those days locked away, his only friend was a chameleon who’d found its way up his glorified prison, he’d named it ‘Paimon’, after a character of tale he loved, a tale he’d read over and over of two Travelers’ adventure through fantastical worlds, with their flying fairy guide, Paimon.

Every morning, he would wake at seven AM, and that day, Mother Celestia was away, traveling, through the so very dangerous world he could never see, because others would use him, sell him for his powers, hurt him, if they ever knew....

Everyday, he would brush his long, long hair, sitting on the pillars and the stairs, the bed or the windowsill to reach the end of it, he had never been able to cut it, for it would lose its magic, Mother had explained to him years ago.

Then, he would do his chores, after which various other activities filled his days, reading, rereading the books over and over, baking, with disastrous results at first, sewing, and much more, but more than anything, anywhere he could, he would paint.

He would paint the stars over the walls, over the ceiling, everywhere a corner was free. It fascinated him, the stars in the night sky, the stars of winter you could see during the day, cold and shimmering in the sunlight, and most of all, the pretty, odd looking stars on his birthday...

That day was the one before his birthday, his eighteenth birthday.

The boy asked, opening the window to find his companion he’d been playing a round of hide and seek with, startling the poor creature out of its color matched hideout:

‘What do you think, Paimon?

Surely she’ll let me go see the lights this year?...’

Paimon shrugged, changing color back to its usual pale teal.

‘I’m eighteen already! I’m definitely old enough to handle myself, don’t you think?’

Paimon paused, and nodded hesitantly after a long minute...

The boy huffed, flicking Paimon lightly,

‘What, no faith in me?’

Paimon gave no answer.

The boy hopped onto the windowsill, looking out into the meadow below with a sigh...

He would often sing, wonder if, and when, he could finally see these peculiar stars for himself.

‘Seven a.m., the usual morning lineup

Start on the chores and sweep 'till the floor's all clean

Polish and wax, do laundry, and mop and shine up

Sweep again, and by then it's like 7:15

And so I'll read a book

Or maybe two or three

I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery

I'll play guitar and knit

And cook and basically

Just wonder when will my life begin?

Then after it's puzzles and darts and baking

Paper mache, learn the fandango and chess

Pottery and ventriloquy, candle making

Then I'll stretch, maybe sketch, take a climb

Sew a dress!

And I'll reread the books

If I have time to spare

I'll paint the walls some more

I'm sure there's room somewhere

And then I'll brush and brush

And brush and brush my hair

Stuck in the same place I've always been

And I'll keep wanderin' and wanderin'

And wanderin' and wonderin'

When will my life begin?

And tomorrow night

The lights will appear

Just like they do on my birthday each year

What is it like

Out there where they glow?

Now that I'm older

Mother might just

Let me go...’

‘Hey, Paimon? I’m gonna do it. Today, I’ll ask her...’

A couple hours later, there was Mother Celestia, down by the tower, calling out to him to let down his hair so she could get up the tower.

‘Mother brought your favorite! We’re having hazelnut parsnip soup tonight!’ She announced as she got off the windowsill.

‘Thank you, Mother, I hope your trip went without any trouble.’ the boy answered politely, helping his mother remove her cloak and setting the basket on the table.

‘Quite well, in fact...’ she started recounting this or that event of her travels while they started getting lunch ready, and as they sat down to eat, the boy asked:

‘Mother?... I was wondering... um...’

‘Yes? What is it dearest?’

‘Well... as you know, tomorrow is my birthday...’

‘Your birthday?... No, no, no, I distinctively remember, your birthday was last year!’

The boy chuckled, ‘That’s the thing about birthdays... they’re... kind of an annual thing.’

His mother laughed lightly, ‘And so, what about your birthday?’

‘I was wondering.... I’m eighteen already... so I thought... maybe...’ the boy mumbled.

‘Now, now, don’t mumble dear, speak up.’

He cleared his throat nervously and asked, ‘I was wondering... If I could go see the lights?’

Mother Celestia paused, perplexed, ‘You mean the stars?...’

‘N-no!’ He stammered, ‘I... I don’t think they are. That’s why... I’d like to see them up close, just once!... They only ever appear... on... on my birthday. So I wondered, if, maybe... They’re meant for me?...’

Celestia scoffed, ‘For you? I told you, darling, they’re only stars, they shine for no one in particular.’

‘But I just...’

‘No. You will not risk the dangers of the world to see some shiny lights! You may not realize it, but you see them better than anyone, up here, high up, and safe...’

‘I... I suppose so... But, if I could just go see for myself... just once! Please, Mother...’

‘Oh, dear little flower, don’t you know... I’m only trying to protect you.

Out there... it’s much too dangerous....

You want to go outside?

Why, my dear!

Look at you, as fragile as a flower

Still a little sapling, just a sprout

You know why we stay up in this tower.’

‘I know but...’

‘That's right, to keep you safe and sound, dear

Guess I always knew this day was coming

Knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest

Soon, but not yet.’

‘But-‘

‘Shh!

Trust me, pet

Mother knows best

Listen to your mother

It's a scary world out there

Mother knows best

One way or another

Something will go wrong, I swear

Treasure hunters, Fatui

Poison ivy, quicksand

Hilichurls and slimes

The plague...’

‘No...’

‘Yes!’

‘But-‘

‘Also large bugs

Thieves with pointy teeth, and

Stop, no more, you'll just upset me

Mother's right here

Mother will protect you

Darling, here's what I suggest

Skip the drama

Stay with mama

Mama knows best

Mother knows best

Take it from your mumsy

On your own, you won't survive

Sloppy, underdressed

Immature, clumsy

Please, they'll eat you up alive

Gullible, naÎve

Positively grubby

Ditzy and a bit, well, hmm vague

Plus, I believe

Gettin' kinda chubby

I'm just saying 'cause I wuv you

Mother understands

Mother's here to help you

All I have is one request

Dearest?’

‘Yes?’

‘Don't ever ask to leave this tower again.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

With a sigh, the boy started to clean up their meal and his mother put on her cloak again.

‘Oh... are you leaving again, Mother?’

‘Yes, dear, but only for a few hours, I’ll be returning before dinner. I love you very much, darling.’

She smiled at him as she descended down the tower.

‘I love you more.’ The boy replied fondly, if a bit longingly as he watched her disappear into the foliage...

/in two parts because Tumblr limit reached TvT

#genshin impact #tangled au

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airiat · 3 years

Text

Boy with the Sun Song (VI.)

iorveth/f!oc | m | friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort | no warnings apply

vesta aep maghenn knows iorveth (iorveth aep mirbrach, to her) in a way that no one else can claim: they grew up together in the blue mountains and have been the closest of friends ever since. when iorveth’s unit is wiped out in an ambush by a powerful but unknown adversary, he seeks shelter with vesta until it’s safe for him to rebuild.

[read on ao3]

VI.

The days passed slowly and lazily like fog that rolls down a mountainside. Iorveth seemed to struggle with the transition from his fast-paced, unpredictable rebel lifestyle to my calm, steady world of caretaking and creating. It was almost too hard for me to be around him, the way his energy buzzed frantically and restlessly, threatening to crumble the walls of my home. We were fortunate that the enchantment extended beyond the physical house to a line around my property, which meant he was able to spend most of his days outdoors.

That time was spent fletching an absurd stockpile of arrows and shooting them with his bow at the trunks of poor, hapless trees in the vicinity. To me, this seemed like a futile endeavor, but every time he did it, I could feel his energy streamline and settle, honing in on that singular task. But it also became a vicious energy, one that thirsted to see death and destruction. I could begin to imagine the fear his victims felt when they found themselves at the other end of his arrow or with his blade cutting into their skin. This was a part of him I had always avoided thinking about, but to see it take shape before my eyes made the thought unavoidable.

There were two sides of the coin. When I heard the name Iorveth, I thought of my best friend and protector, someone who had, despite all his life has asked of him, managed to stay by my side for most of it. A man whose pride was both his greatest strength and his deepest wound. A man who loved summer sunshine and played sweet music so that the birds sang back to him. But when most others thought of Iorveth, dh’oine and nonhumans alike, their minds became clouded with hatred, with cold-blooded fear.

He was a criminal, a terrorist, a bloodthirsty villain who ought to have hanged for his misdeeds long ago. I knew this, and yet, I still forgave him for all of it. Even if I wasn’t Aen Seidhe, even if I didn’t understand the reasons for why he did what he did, I would have still loved him.

What did that make me, then, if I could still love him in spite of what he’d done? Did it make me a monster the same as him?

The loud squawk of a bird pulled me out of my thoughts from where I stood leaning against the doorframe watching him shoot. When I refocused, I was met with the sight of Iorveth holding up a shot pheasant by the neck.

“Dinner,” he announced, a triumphant look in his eye, like this bird had been his white whale, like he’d not faced and cut down bigger, more fearsome foes before.

When was the last time he killed somebody, I wondered.

I smiled at him. “I have a soup recipe that’ll go really well with that.”

“Sounds good.”

I watched as he left for the side of the house where he hung the bird for one of us to clean later. But my eyes didn’t follow his actions, they settled on the bow slung across his back, on the quiver full of arrows hanging from his waist. How they might feel in my hands, what it would have been like to do what he does.

“Do you think you can teach me that?” I asked when he returned, pointing to his bow.

His face lit up as I’d never seen it before. “How to shoot?”

I nodded. “Well, I mean, re-teach me how to shoot.”

He graced me with one of his rare, hard-won smiles. “I’ve been waiting for this day for so long.”

I couldn’t help but return his smile--it warmed me from within like I was standing in a patch of sunlight. “Well, here it’s arrived.”

“About time,” he replied, reaching behind him and pulling his bow out of its holster.

Iorveth approached me and presented the bow balanced on the palms of his hands like a knight would to his queen--all that was missing was him getting down on one knee. I saw a sparkle in his eye at this performance, so I played along with it, taking the weapon into my hands with gentle reverence, as though it was made of the most fragile glass.

How many had he killed with this bow?

Then, he unbuckled the quiver from around his waist and fastened it around mine. The two objects felt so foreign to me, so cumbersome and awkward on my body. The quiver was heavy and knocked against my hip, the bow large and unwieldy. I looked down at the state of myself, feeling much like a child playing dress-up in her parent’s clothes. The feeling of this shouldn’t have been unfamiliar to me, but it still was. How did anyone fight like that? Much less with the unearthly grace Aen Seidhe are meant to possess?

“None of this is suitable for you,” Iorveth said when he saw the apprehension that was surely written on my face. “I’ll make sure you get all your own equipment, but in the meantime, we can start here.”

“Alright…” I said slowly. “What do I do now, then?”

“What is it you think you should do?” he countered, going to lean against a nearby tree.

“...nock an arrow?”

He inclined his head towards me. “So you do remember.”

I had, of course, been taught archery as a young Aen Seidhe--right alongside Iorveth, in fact--such a rite of passage it was. But it was never something that I latched on to, preferring instead the lessons in creative arts and literature. And so, while Iorveth flew ahead in his archer’s training, in anything pertaining to combat, actually, I laid down my weapons as soon as I was possibly allowed to. Thus, it had been many, many years since I had last gone through these motions.

I reached for an arrow, fumbling around with the bow in my sudden bout of nervousness under his assessing, waiting eye. Eventually, I managed to get one in my hand and held it up to him victoriously, but he hardly looked impressed. Rolling my eyes, I slid the arrow into place and raised the bow, one eye squinted closed and my tongue poking out of the corner of my mouth. I spent so much time aligning myself with a tree trunk in the distance that the veins of the wood began to blur with the brush behind it.

When I loosed the arrow, it missed spectacularly, going wide and sailing into the forest beyond.

Iorveth pushed himself off the tree with a shake of his head.

“You must not overthink it, Vesta,” he chided. “It should be effortless, without any thought.”

I shook my head, furrowing my brow. “I’ve never been able to do that. It never worked for me.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’m going to teach you how to do,” he responded as he came to stand behind me.

Iorveth’s hands settled lightly on my waist in a way that was very distinctly unlike how I’d been taught as a child. There was a very brief flash in my mind of something heady, like candlelight and dark wine, but I pushed the thought away, startled by its appearance. He removed a hand to give me another arrow, and I nocked it, raising the bow back to the tree.

“Your enemy won’t stand there stock-still as you take your aim. There’s no time to think, only to feel and then to shoot.”

His last word came as a command and I obeyed instantly, without thought, but the arrow still swung wide, disappearing into the brush. I exhaled sharply, with frustration, and lowered the bow.

“It’s alright,” he murmured. “Try again.”

I did as he said, but fell short of my target once more.

“What am I doing wrong, Iorveth?” I asked.

Another arrow passed to me. I nocked it and took aim, drawing back the string.

“You’re not breathing,” he said softly, and when he returned his hand to me, it slid down my back, over my waist, settled on my hip. ”Your core is too tight.”

In my surprise over the heat of his words, in the boldness of his touch, my fingers released the string and the arrow flew forward in a blink, embedding itself firmly in the trunk of the tree. The tree was wide, and my arrow hit far, far off to the right of center, but it was still there as plain as day.

Immediately, Iorveth took his hands off me and stepped back, but I remained standing there bewildered by what he had just done and what it had made me do.

“Look at you,” he said from behind me. “Just like a real Aen Seidhe.”

I turned around to face him. “But I missed my mark.”

“Between missing your mark and missing entirely in the heat of battle, which would you prefer?”

“...I suppose.”

“An arrow wound is still a wound no matter where it hits,” he said. “And believe me, that shit ploughing hurts.”

I pulled a face, imagining what exactly that must feel like.

“We’ll end here for today,” he said. “Better if you didn’t overdo it on a bow that isn’t right for you.”

I nodded, almost relieved at this out. I didn’t know if I’d have been able to handle another maneuver like the one he’d just pulled. Iorveth took his bow and quiver back from me, and we walked to the house.

I felt much lighter, better, without them in my possession. I realized then that I’d been feeling the death emanating from them. The strain hadn’t come entirely from the fact that they were too big for me.

“I’ll make the proper bow for you,” he said. “Then we can try again.”

“You know how to do that?”

“Of course I do,” he answered, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “I made mine.”

“You did?” I asked, glancing at the bow on his back. “It’s beautiful. I mean, it fucking reeks of death, but beautiful, nonetheless.”

He chuckled. “A lot of dh’oine blood on it.”

We arrived in the house and he pulled it off, leaning it against the wall near the door.

Iorveth continued. “You’ve always been perceptive to things like that, haven’t you?”

I nodded. “The things I could say about the way your energy manifests.”

He looked at me curiously, but didn’t ask me to elaborate. “If that’s the case, surely you can feel the danger you’re in here. You’d honestly be safer in Vengerberg itself.”

“The enchantment protects me.”

He shook his head. “Magic is fallible. Very much so.”

“I’d know if it fell.”

“Maybe so, but then what? You’d be defenseless.”

I shrugged. “It hasn’t yet.”

Iorveth made a sound that sounded almost like a growl. “I’ll make you the bow, you’ll master that, and then we’ll move on to the blade.”

His angry panic rolled off of him in waves. I stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. Instantly, he stilled and we stood there, me waiting, and him trying to calm himself down.

“If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself,” he said simply, in a low voice.

“You won’t need to. Nothing will happen.”

He let out a long, slow exhale. “Let me teach you how to protect yourself.”

“I will. Anything for you, remember?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for you.”

“I know, Iorveth. I hear you. Show me everything you know.”

“Thank you, beag’aine.”

Then, I released him and we set about the house, settling in for the evening. When I read him again, there was a different sort of feeling lingering in the fringes of his usual pain-anger-desperation. And when I took it inside myself, separated the layers, all I could think of was my writing, the purple-pink-wine red hues of an emotion I’d only ever known in fiction. I knew exactly what it was, but I didn't dare attach its name. Not now. Not yet.

#this was a fun chapter to write #iorveth #iorweth #iorveth/oc #the witcher #my posts #my writing #bwtss #tag: iorveth

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politicalmamaduck · 5 years

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Reylo Fic Recs: Fantasy, Fae, Magic, Fairy Tale, and Mythology

Ours Is The Fury by @shmisolo

Rey was tasked with taking Storm's End for her king. She defeated the Storm King Snoke in the Rainwood, but when she proceeded to the castle itself, preparing for a long siege, things did not go to plan.

A Man Called Winter by @reylotrashcompactor

The girl didn’t dream. Perhaps it was because she needed more to fuel nighttime sojourns than fantasies of a full belly, of escaping the desert. Perhaps she exhausted all these dreams years ago, falling to sleep in the soft embrace of hope and waking in the hard grip of reality. Or perhaps dreams simply could not permeate the armored shell she slept inside, those rusted walls resistant to blaster fire as well as the simple comfort of imagination. Maybe this was why, on a particularly stifling night, when sleeping on her gritty pallet in the too-still air finally proved unbearable, and she had rucked the mess of salvaged pilot seats and threadbare blankets into the sand outside her door, that he came to her first. She laid under the stars, straining her exhausted body for a cool breeze, and found sleep. And he found her.

Between Death and Winter by @shmisolo

“I’ll answer none of your questions, crow,” she snapped.Ben placed the butt of the spear down in the snow and leaned on it as he sheathed his sword. He was breathing more heavily than he wanted to admit as he looked down at her.You should kill her, then, he thought in a voice that sounded very much like the Lord Commander’s. If she’d rather die, then let her die.Except there was something wrong in that. He didn’t know why, but it felt wrong.“Pity for you,” he said and he broke the spear over his knee. “I’ll be taking you with me back to Castle Black.”The moment the words were out of his lips, he regretted them. He was the First Ranger, he was in the middle of a ranging—he didn’t have time to keep a spearwife hostage.

all true lovers are by @abstractragedy

She might seem lonely, but Ben can sense that this forest is her faithful audience, and she is nothing but alone. The birds chirp a symphony to her, and the greenery around her bows, grateful to be blessed by her beauty. She truly is beautiful, but that’s not the entire reason he is so drawn to her. It’s her Magic.

Wintertide by @transpogrrl

It was important work, gathering fuel for the Burning of the Ren, though only an outcast like the Scavenger could do it. The ceremony marked the turning of one year into the next, and ensured the light would come again to drive back winter’s darkness.The good Queen had tried to change the ancient rite, to mark the year without the loss of one more soul from their war-torn land. But in the ten years since her decree, the disasters sweeping over them had only multiplied. Famine, flood, unearthly winds and the summer’s fires had torn at people’s goodness, and the refugees that sought the Queen’s peace had only taxed it more. When a Wizard suggested that only human sacrifice would appease the angry spirits, the people listened, and demanded a real Ren for the fire.

The Scavenger Bride by @the-reylo-void

After a fairytale summer romance, Rey of Jakku sees her beloved, Prince Ben Solo of Alderaan, off to his uncle's temple, only to learn of his death at the hands of the Dread Knight Ren, a feared warrior who never takes prisoners. But fairytales are never quite that simple, and Rey soon finds herself swept up in a game of political intrigue that threatens to tear the galaxy apart. With new lifelong friends (thieves, but who's counting), mostly-dead ex-boyfriends with too many names, a grumpy wizard who wants nothing to do with any of this, and POUS (Porgs of Unusual Size), Rey's got her work cut out for her and will need her wits, strength, and the strange force she's felt inside of her for years to find her true love.

The Hunter and the Swordsman by @dreamsdescent

It was the first part of the night, and the Hunter was rising in the sky. Four stars stretched out in each direction, with a belt of three across the middle.For many generations he had watched over her kind during these long nights in the depths of winter, and now he was her only companion.The star that made the Hunter’s right shoulder shone red, reminding her of warmth, of flowers and flesh and blood, of all the things that sustained life amidst the cold emptiness of the heavens.With the fire of earth at her back and the fire in the sky over her face, Rey calmed herself and listened. Soon she could hear it, the song of the red star, low and lonesome like the call of the mourning dove.She reached out to it as if it were to someone, and sang a quiet, but high and warbling answer, as if to say, you are not alone. Whether she was reassuring herself or the other, she did not know.The red star blinked in the sky, beating along with her heart as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Stolen Hearts by @capaldisrighteyebrow

As the Judge of Souls, Rey weighs humans' hearts to assign their fates. When an imposing man who goes by Kylo Ren shows up without a heart, Rey seizes the chance to solve a mystery that threatens the universe. Returning to the mortal world together, Rey and Kylo rush to find his murderer and restore balance.

The Dragon Queen's Moon by @diadumene

“My handmaidens once told me a story,” Daenerys mused. “During my time in Essos, I would hear many variations of the story. Would you like to hear the one I liked best?”After a moment, Sansa nodded. “I would like that very much, Dany.” Dany gave her a look of approval and straightened her back. “Let me tell you the story of how the dragons were born and the moon and the sun fell in love with one another…”

All In Her Arms by @aionimica

Three things are to be expected when the dragon came back to the stars. The first was that one didn’t leave their home at night.The second was that one didn’t go check the noise they heard at the edge of the woods, no matter the cause.And last and final and arguably most important was that one most definitely did not get married.

in this white wave by @something-pithy

It was King Kylo’s season, and he had been born to rule it. Blood of the Tuatha de Danaan ran in his veins, yes, but in addition to the most glorious of the sidhe, the darkest of the Unseelie. He had been born to break the wheel and rebuild it anew, to rid the world of the systems and order that stifled it and bring the Unseelie back to power so that they could set the fae free once more. And he would be enjoying his victory -- the death of his twisted, decrepit master, his rightful place in the universe secured, the triumph of the Unseelie over the Seelie -- but for an impudent nocker, a tinkerer, a little no-one who had worked her way into his very soul.In which King Kylo of the Winter Court and Rey of the Summer Court struggle with the past, themselves, and their ferbidden Seelie/Unseelie luuuuuurve.

echoes (again) by @soul8

again and again, she slips from his grasp like moonlight (reincarnation au where ben seeks her through their past lives and maybe, just maybe this time this time will be the last)

there may be something there that wasn't there before. by @aquawolfgirl

She’s a thief, small and lithe. Her days are spent pickpocketing and snatching from market stalls. She has the sun in her skin and the light in her smile. She is beauty. He is a prince, at war with himself. He is a mix of a man, a hybrid of containment and utter chaos. He has the night in his hair and hatred in his eyes. He is beast.cShe just stole from the wrong garden. “You are aware that doesn’t belong to you, are you not?”

Like Blood, Like Honey by @lariren-shadow

“Sweet Rey,” Kylo said as he gently grabbed her chin. “We’re all monsters in the Unseelie Court.”When Rey moves in with her grandfather the summer before college she expected a part time job at best. Instead she found herself mixed up in the world of faeries.

Waves Calling Her Home by @shelikespretties

“When will you return to me, Selkie wife?” he taunted. “Have they hidden your skin that well?”She nudged him hard in the ribs with the foot he’d been cradling, pushing him away. “I’m no one’s wife, and my skin is safe exactly where I placed it. I’m not coming back. I’m here for a reason.”

The Sands of Jakku by ASingleWhiteDoe

Rey is a street rat and a scavenger in the deserts of Jakku, but when a haggard man approaches her and Finn about a lamp located in a strange and wonderful cave, all of that changes.

between belief and the sea by @thewayofthetrashcompactor

Rey has a busy schedule: between her part time jobs, trying to get a degree, and breaking into certain people's homes to steal items she can pawn off to Unkar Plutt, she doesn't have time for anything mysterious or unusual. And she's not exactly in the habit of returning lost property. However, something gets her to make an exception. Which somehow mixes her up with Ben Solo, and that turns out to be a hard bond to break.

Song in a Thousand Pieces by @thewayofthetrashcompactor

Snoke holds up a hand. “A nightingale.”The man bows. “Yes, my lord.”“In the Jakku forests.” Snoke’s voice is emotionless.The man pauses before answering, unsure of himself. “Yes, my lord,” he finally says.Snoke settles back into his throne. “Kylo Ren," he orders, and Kylo swiftly steps forward. "Bring it to me.”

Paradise Regained by @lasthopesolo

Where all fates of the universe are decided, there lives a wandering immortal, leaving behind in her wake dried and decayed things. Rey, bringer of death and rot, worries she will never find her place of belonging. Everything changes when she comes across a wailing immortal, the scent of spring clinging vigorously to him as fresh flowers dance in the wind around him.

Wherever There is You, I Will be There Too by @optimus-pam

According to Greek mythology, Tartarus is the deep abyss used as a dungeon of torment and suffering for the wicked. Rey journeys there in search of a lost soul.

it shall not be death by TolkienGirl

Rey of the Jedi Knights is sent with her sword and Holy Fire, to destroy a palace of thorns.It doesn't quite go as planned.

Fated by @shmisolo

Emperor Palpatine declared that it was the new horse in his stable that would reward Kylo of Alderaan’s saving his life, fulfilling the Law of Surprise. But the fates had other plans, and would not be denied.

My own fics in these categories:

Aníron

“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked, tracing her cheekbone. “I thought I had strayed into a dream,” she murmured, looking up into his eyes.“Long years have passed; you do not have the cares that you carry now.” He sighed, looking down and burdened for only a moment. He looked back up at her, focusing his powerful gaze once more. “Do you remember what I told you?”She could not meet his gaze. She knew the words; they were etched on her heart. Yet she still could not believe them, could not believe that he had said them in the first place, let alone held himself to them all these years later. “You said you would bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people.”

your love is my immortal crown

A young woman makes a choice and ascends her grandfather’s throne, becoming a goddess and a queen to save her lover, the god of spring, who will stop at nothing to return to her.

The Prince and the Dragon

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, there lived a prince who met a dragon woman.

if it were only the stars we had wanted to conquer

Amid a backdrop of persecution of magic users and First Order colonization, Kylo Ren discovers a powerful fellow magic user named Rey on a mission for his master. There is more than meets the eye with Rey's magic, however, and she longs to understand her true calling. Yet her fate is inextricably bound with his own.

I am sending back the key

Rey's mysterious new husband, Ben Solo, asks her not to enter his study. But who is he really and what is the truth about his family history?

Hidden in the Desert Sands

The prince ran away from home, and found himself in the desert. A scavenger's kindness reveals more than scrap metal buried under the sands.

My other fic rec lists:

#reylo #fan fiction #fic recs #my writing #mythology au #fae au #fantasy au #fairy tale au

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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

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A Husband Summoning Pt 6 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh)

Previously: One, Two, Three, Four. Five

He definitely burned down her room.

The moment she saw a few of her trinkets and photos amongst his room and belongings, she knew for sure that he’d caused it somehow. It was too convenient.

Everything about the time and the convenience said that it was his fault. She wasn’t sure how. She wasn’t sure why- no. No, she did kind of understand the why of it. The man was intent on keeping his marriage to her obvious and keeping the upper hand in this relationship. This marriage that he had with her had been the focus of everything since he’d been summoned.

However, there was a problem with that.

Unlike this guy, whom she didn’t know and she had some serious doubts about his kingship, she had no fall back from this. If she was kicked from school, there was a good chance that she would be without a home or anything. She had no riches to indulge with. She had no friends elsewhere that she could hang with until she found her feet.

“You may praise me properly at any time now, Hakuno,” Gilgamesh drawled, moving into the room and taking one of the large and overly plush armchairs in the room. He poured himself a glass of wine that he summoned forth from those mystery puddles of his that came from Never Never Land, and sipped at his drink in only a manner that someone as much as him could manage.

“We’re not allowed to drink in school,” Hakuno chastised.

“I am old enough.”

“I am not.”

“Then you may drink from my lips and I’ll drink from the bottle, unless you seek to drink from another part of me.”

“I have to study. I’m not drinking from anything.”

She moved to the table in the other part of his rooms, slamming her bag down loudly and settling into a seat.

She wouldn’t have to sit on his lap if she was busy with her books. She needed a good grade in her tests as well, otherwise she would end up behind in the student rankings and possibly end up in class B. While she was fine with a lot of things, losing her seat in class was not something she’d accept.

This was what she thought, but…

Nothing makes sense.

She shouldn’t have been covering Shinji’s ass in class for the questions. Looking through the assignments that she’d been given, it looked like a mass of lines and numbers, letters and multiple choice options that all looked as likely as the next.

There was only one thing to do: try.

With a twirl of her pencil and a honed in focus, she attempted just that. Hakuno kept her head firmly facing towards her books, her eyes flickering between examples and her practice assignments. First would come resolution. Then, she would seek to understand how she had accomplished the resolution. Finally, she would memorize.

Resolve, review, memorize.

One question down.

Hakuno smiled at her results, seeing them amongst the multiple choice options.

Onto the next question.

Her eyes were watering a bit. She was feeling a bit parched now that she was thinking about it. There was just this slight tickle in her throat that she needed to get at. While she could swallow a little and clear her throat, it was doing nothing to quell the tickle.

The tickle turned into an itch.

Hakuno pulled back, clearing her throat again.

“Your first answer is wrong and you’re repeating the same mistake for the second problem.”

A glass of water came before her, set down in what had to be the most overly extra of a glass she’d ever seen. The man leaning over her shoulder was smirking, looking over her work.

“Gilgamesh, this is what we were doing today. You haven’t seen this before.”

“I’ve used a similar mathematical problem in reviewing business dealings amongst merchants, although I didn’t phrase it quite the same as your book does.” He motioned to the middle of the problem. “Here’s where your mistake comes in. You place the whole problem in without any reasoning. Then, when you end up with the two ‘variables’ at the end, you simply removed one.”

“I think I can do it.”

“Can you check these answers?”

She gave him a look before doing just that.

The back of the book said she was wrong.

“Come come.” The man moved to the seat beside hers, patting his lap and waiting. The urge came back, driving her from her seat to his lap.

She found herself closing her eyes as the man chuckled.

“Aren’t I such a kind husband, allowing you to bypass this earlier? Bring your book over. I have no desire to tease you right now. You are learning, becoming more suitable for me. I need to encourage it.”

He… what?

Hakuno stared at him.

Those red eyes stared back.

“I did not join your foolish little school to learn. This is for you, my wedding present, you plain fool. Pay attention to my gift to you and learn properly.”

Hakuno pulled her book over, turning on his lap so she could face a fresh page in her notebook and the questions that lay waiting to be answered.

“The first thing you must know is that you need only one letter for the equations. From there, we will use the result to find the other.”

“How do I do that?”

His lips pressed to her temple. “Finally, words come forth worthy of response. Continue speaking to me properly. You have a king of unsurpassed wisdom and you waste time with these fleeting chases and useless faces. Pay attention closely. I do not care to repeat myself.”

His marked hand moved over the page.

Somehow, whether it be divine intervention or something entirely otherwise, Hakuno found it making sense.

The back of the book sang them praises.

They continued into the next assignment after that.

Like liquid honey, his voice seemed to melt. She could feel her back pressing to his chest, her hands moving along the pages as every single word became trapped in her thoughts. She found herself resolving problems without direction soon. She found herself leaning into his touch, his arms and his mouth touching her far too much.

She… she was excelling at this.

Hakuno turned the page, staring at the last page of the book.

They’d done everything.

Her eyes drifted to the man nearby.

“Ah, look at that. Pride. Does that make you this happy, Hakuno? Did you enjoy this-“

“I need you to help me with all my studies.”

She could have hobbies. She could improve her magecraft.

The king, oh great and mighty Gilgamesh, had freed her from the homework cycle to this extent.

With his help, she would escape all of it.

For that, she’d happily let him burn down half the damn school.

#drabble #drabbles

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obliviouskind · 4 years

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There is a gift for Cyrus! It's a wooden abacus with coloured beads, the kind that children might play or learn with. This one is clearly second-hand, maybe even third-hand. One of the 'rungs' is missing entirely, along with all of its beads. The remainder of the beads have chipped paint, and the whole thing looks very scuffed and worn. Look on the bright side, though - maybe it's an antique? But probably not...

Merry Christmas

@mercenaryrocket

---

Upon the palms of his hands, the pads of flesh beneath his skin. Against the plastic, rounded armrests of his modest desk seat; he leant. Broad windows spanned the very left of his office, inviting in the pale, artificial glow of lamp posts onto the hardwood floors, upon the Oakwood bureau… And Cyrus, quietly, reminisced over the fact that perhaps, just maybe, he wasn’t so different from his father as he had thought himself to have been. From that of height, to their shared appearance – the two men could be read as brothers had the younger of the two carried a bit more weight upon his bones. --They weren’t so different in the words that they choose, either; both spewing lies before crowds and seeking refuge from the world once their ire becomes too much to bear.

They were lonesome, when others, conceivably, wished for them not to be.

They both would be spending Christmas on their own, cooped up within offices that were not at home and all that he missed, perhaps, was a wife whom awaited his return and a son that he could bypass and ignore.

Josefina could, and most likely would, play the part of mother if only she were asked to; but a boy, he had not blessed her with. And he would not. No matter her wishes for one of her own.

(Oh, he knew very well that he was cruel, cruel, cruel…)

The chair bounced upon its feathers as he sat down within it. Turned, by the dip of his toes shoved into the ground below and it was in the waning light of the December eve that he blindly reached for neatly folded envelopes and unraveled them into that of pure and honest faults.

Perhaps he should’ve turned on a lamp to spare himself eyestrain…

It would seem that Annika had cried wolf.

That Elvira claimed witness of unbecoming behaviors while Stefan, in writing so hasty it bordered upon unintelligible, laid claim to his errors in a hope that salvation and forgiveness would come knocking upon his ajar door – as long as he confessed, after all, then the punishment would not be so harsh.

… Hannah went out with a crowd of three last weekend, where one select soul drank much more than their body could hold while the other sought romance from a boy whose age was far less than that of an adult… Robin and Miriam never confessed to these accusations, however, and held fast that between the three – it was Hannah who lied.

Veronika, Fanny, Linnea and Morgan believe that they have seen treason from Ylva, while Tove and Tristan have been exposed as secret lovers.

Malin was pregnant, and Cyrus had reason to believe a certain Commander may have fathered it.

Two fingers settled against the bridge of his beaked nose. His arms, folded across his chest as he sunk into his seat as though a child within one that was far too big. A sigh expelled from his breast as aloud, in his lonesomeness, Cyrus simply confessed;

That he did not care for these quarrels, and that they were not his business to sort.

That he did not care to know what sins others held within their breasts.

… That he did not, in fact, have an obligation to care for the spawn of a commander who wouldn’t ever confess to his involvement in the very first place.

No, if Cyrus were to truly be honest; today, as snow lapped upon the streets of Veilstone and children’s choirs sang within sanctuary halls – he did not care for much of anything at all. --He would turn twenty-two in but an odd number of days – and time, it seemed, was running by fast.

The next mountain of letters were accompanied by that of supposed ‘evidence’.

Filip had managed a photograph of Jakob’s money meddling – sending earnings to foreign relatives without giving a notion that this was something that would be occurring. An act of treason in the form of trust, if nothing more, and though Cyrus felt the act was harmless in and of itself… it was a matter that ought not to be fostered. Trouble would begin to brew if it were.

Cyrus fingered at paper bags and sealed off packages. At boxes within boxes, notes within notes; all provided for the sake of letting him know whom it was he should trust, and whom he shouldn’t.

Anya claimed angels whispered into her ear at night, of wicked desires towards their one and true Messiah. The crude drawings were something he perhaps would’ve wished to have been spared, but their sorting system has yet to be properly defined, as well as refined.

It was a hiccup that could be dealt with by re-schooling… Perhaps psychiatric contacts would be a resource worth investing in…

“… Cyrus?”

Tired eyes redirected from the task at hand; to that of Jupiter. Stood against the frame of his office door, her hip jutted while her fingers daintily drummed upon finely carved wood. A prototypical uniform adorned her slender form, that of a pencil style skirt and blouse; something that he, in the now, saw as unfit and undesirable.

“One usually waits outside before entering a superior’s office, Jupiter,” Cyrus quietly remarked. No true authority, however, lingered within his tone; and so perhaps that was why she didn’t feel her actions were all that wrong. Noon, after all, had come to pass hours ago and in the presence of but the two… Well, exceptions had been made in the past…

He fiddled with the handle of one of his bureau desk drawers, fishing out a paper and pen to scribble down a note for their uniforms to be looked over and reconsidered once more. A hand, waving her way. “At least feign formalities if you can’t wait another minute or two.”

Her heels rhythmically clicked as she traversed the space between them.

“… I was heading out,” she began, raspberry eyes darting from side to side – anywhere that wasn’t him. Despite appearances, she seemed to hold some sense of shame within herself for her actions after all. “However, there was a package left at the front desk. Elinore left an hour early and so no one got the notice and, well, it seems the giver didn’t fancy themselves finding anyone to bring it to our attention which is just, really fucking inconvenient and-”

“Josefina.”

Her cheeks flushed.

“Right, sorry.”

However embarrassed she may have felt over his impatient promptness seemingly weren’t enough to stump her invasive ways; for rather than simply handing him the package, kneel and leave – Josefina rounded his desk and took a seat upon the armrest of his seat. A place that he, within himself, assumed to be a rather uncomfortable place to sit – though he wouldn’t be voicing this observation of his.

Least she asks if he had somewhere else in mind for her to sit.

“… I don’t know what it is,” she eventually said, after seconds had passed in simple and pure silence. The package was handed to him and now, Cyrus decided, it seemed ‘present’ perhaps was a better term used to describe the given item. The wrapping was plain, unassuming and lacking in any decorations that may have suggested it as such; but a neatly scribbled sticker was placed upon the brown wrapping. Upon which, his name was written neatly. “… But, I don’t think it’s a late report.”

“I think you’re right about that.”

Cyrus sat himself up once more – properly again, with his shoulders flush against the back of his seat. Room was lacking now, with candy seated against his left arm (his father came to mind once more…) --He grasped the supposed present from his commanders hands and begun unraveling its contents one section at a time.

---

“This, dear boy, is an abacus.”

Father Orlov had presented him with the wooden object one late afternoon, when Sunday schooling had long since passed and the boy – himself, in this case – hadn’t wished to leave for home. A question of why had been posed, and as often was the case with children whom fear punishment or ridicule; an answer had not been given. --Orlov had deemed it inappropriate, but understandable, and suggested they go to the sanctuary until Cyrus felt ready to return to his parents once more.

Something that Cyrus had appreciated very much, but hadn’t voiced.

“Did you know that man weren’t created with the idea of numbers in their thoughts? Counting, of course, occurred; but a visual means of presenting ones work hadn’t been presented in any academic sense.”

In an effort to find him something to spend his time with, however, father Orlov had taken to scouring the shelving for textbooks and scriptures to engage within and use. What he had found instead, however, had been said abacus.

It had sat awkward within Cyrus’s hands, though not unfamiliar. His elementary school had used these frames to present math as a less intimidating matter than one may first assume.

Cyrus, however, never had seen the utility of them – he could count, and knew how to do so well even before the children of his age range could count to one hundred and two.

“Miss Ulrika gave us one of these at the start of grade one,” he had expressed, gently placing the abacus down onto his desk. Ignore it, he wouldn’t – but play with it was another thing entirely. “I never needed to use one.”

Orlov’s large hands had placed before him upon the desk, then, and not for the first time in his life had Cyrus thought that his pastor was a man of significant stature. Not in the way his father was, certainly not; but he was towering, no matter whom it was he stood before. --And Cyrus was quite small, still.

Orlov’s smile had been warm. “Hm. Perhaps you didn’t… Or at the very least, not for mathematical calculations.”

“… What else would you use it for?”

---

The chair creaked as Josefina shifted where she sat and over his shoulder, her locks cascaded like imperial curtains. “A counting frame?” She said, reaching for the item as though it was hers, and not his.

He didn’t stop her. --It was held over their heads – the beads, sliding every which way it was tilted.

“Abacus.” He mindlessly corrected, settling his elbow upon the armrest of which was not currently occupied. “It’s an abacus.”

“Abacus, schoty, soroban…” He gave her a look. She waved her hand his way, returning the frame. “What? I like learning new words. Besides, it’s still a counting frame no matter what its ‘fancy’ name is.”

It felt heavier now, with one side holding most of the lingering beads. The fact that it was broken and old, was perhaps its only fault; counting upon it wouldn’t exactly be useful. “I didn’t know you were so knowledgeable about… arbitrary things such as these.”

His pastor had known a lot, too.

“I have hobbies outside of being your little helper too, you know…” Her shoulder nudged his. “Though, I will say being with you is by far my favorite of the… (one finger, two…) three.”

---

“The one’s your teacher offered you undoubtedly were one created within a factory somewhere. Carved by machinery and workers alike, with little care for the quality and style of the frame outside of the state requirements.” Father Orlov had spoken with certainty and poise, as though he was holding a lecture within the church halls rather than speaking about a simple wooden toy. Perhaps it was why Cyrus had cared to listen. “… This one however, my dearest boy, is nothing like what you have ever held before.”

His eyes had diverted, then, from that of his pastor – to the abacus within his hands. Its thick frame was carved out of oak, with its rungs created from metal surely found within one out of Sinnoh’s rich mines. --It was… Unremarkable.

Ugly, even.

“… It’s just an abacus, father.” He had expressed and the laugh that echoed afterwards caused his cheeks to flush with heat.

(Was he so wrong?)

Orlov’s voice was covered with mirth as he spoke. “It is indeed but an abacus, Cyrus. But even the most simple of things have history.” The item was taken out of his hands, as gently as though an infant was dealt with – and here, as the frame was held up against the backdrop of the setting evening sun, the beads glimmered as though honey gold.

It had felt almost magical.

“… We may not always see the value of the past when we first encounter it,” Orlov had stated, lines forming at the ends of his lips of which aged him beyond his given years. “However, if we allow ourselves to study it from a different angle… Perhaps we will be richer still.”

---

The pad of his thumb brushed over the beads, gently attempting to see – just tell – if there was something hidden within. --It seemed these were simply wood, and nothing more.

“Y’know,” Josefina eventually voiced – thumb set upon her plump bottom lip in thought. “… I don’t think this is a Sinnohan model, despite it being a… children’s toy.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Instead of stealing the toy, this time the woman simply pointed. At the piece of wood of which separated a vertical row from the rest. “Sinnohan ones don’t have this separation, and the drops are usually oval shaped and round at their edges.”

He fingered at a red-chipped bead. “These are carved to a point.”

“Exactly.” Her hands clapped together in excitement as she stood from her seat. The chair rattled from its loss. “Sinnohan ones also have two differently colored beads in each row. Save for two, where there’s three, while this one only has two over all.”

His cheek settled upon the knuckles of his hand, the toy balanced upon his thigh by but a single digit. “… Is this one of your, what was it… three interests, commander?”

She stuck her tongue out at him like a child. “I write, boss… Sometimes it leads you down weird rabbit holes of information. This happened to be one of them.”

“I see.”

Her heels clicked as she rounded the bureau, met at their points once she stood before it and after that – she gently kneeled. Like the proper employee that she pretended to be. “Well, Merry Christmas, sir. I hope you enjoy your toy.”

With that, she left; a giggle surely bubbling within her throat.

Cyrus turned in his seat, so that he faced the broad windows to his left. The sun was long since gone, hidden by winters cold and even though he tried to – attempted, to mimic an act from so long ago – the streetlights outside did not give away any hidden truth within the abacuses broken frame.

… Perhaps not all things are valuable. --It was, after all, but a broken children’s toy.

#(ic - muse)#(Guest - Josefina)#(Guest - Orlov)#drabble #mercenaryrocket #deadass forgot to put a read more on it at first oop #jul

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1nsomniacwriter · 4 years

Text

The Cursed Light (Chapter One)

@datfearlessfangirl

After Putting Others First the Dark Sides spent time together again each still trying to figure out what happened and what went wrong that horrible morning. Virgil, Janus, and Remus were huddled together in Janus’ room talking about what could have happened like they had every day since that morning when they lost the ones they loved. Patton knocked on the door and Virgil moved to open it.

“Hey, Patton,” Virgil said standing in front of the door.

“You three missed dinner. Is everything okay?” Patton asked.

“Yeah everything’s fine we just aren’t hungry,” Virgil answered.

“Okay kiddo but this is the third time you’ve missed dinner this week. Are you three alright?” Patton asked.

“Yeah. We’re just talking,” Virgil said.

“Virgil?” Remus called.

“Yeah?” Virgil said.

“I think I found what we’ve been looking for,” Remus said.

“Shit. Patton I’ve got to go,” Virgil said and closed the door.

“What did you find?” Virgil said, turning around.

“I raided the Dragon Witch a few weeks ago and I’ve been looking through some of her books and I think I’ve figured out what happened,” Remus said.

“What?” Janus asked.

“She cursed them. She left us our memories but took theirs and switched their love for hate,” Remus explained.

“Fuck,” Virgil said.

“How do we break it?” Janus asked.

“We have to make them truly see us. Make them remember us,” Remus said.

“We’ve been trying to do that for years with no success though,” Virgil reminded him.

“We have to keep trying,” Remus said.

“I know but it hurts Re,” Janus said.

“I miss being able to be around them without remembering what we had and knowing that he resents me and doesn’t remember us being married,” Virgil said.

“I was gonna propose to Patton that day,” Janus said.

“You never told us that,” Virgil said.

“Jan I’m so sorry,” Remus said, hugging the snake-like side.

“We’ll get the others to remember somehow. We have to,” Janus said.

“I know,” Virgil said.

Another knock on the door dragged the dark sides out of their conversation and Remus rose to get it. Logan stood on the other side of the door and Remus froze. Logan never bothered to seek them out and this was the first time since a movie night that Remus managed to be this close to his lost fiance. Logan raised an eyebrow as if waiting to be invited into the room.

“Can we help you nerd?” Remus asked, trying to keep the ever-present heartbreak out of his voice.

“May I come in?” Logan asked.

“Umh sure. Just give us a second we need to put a few things up first,” Remus said.

Janus and Virgil began moving their research off the table and into the chest that they kept everything they used to try and figure out what had happened that day. Remus moved to let Logan in and the logical side slipped into the room. Remus went to leave, only for Logan to grab his wrist and ask him to stay. Remus joined the other dark sides at the table and waited for Logan to speak.

“You three have been acting odd lately. What is going on?” Logan asked.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with nerdy wolverine,” Remus said.

“If whatever you are doing could affect Thomas. I think I deserve to know,” Logan snapped.

“We aren’t doing anything that could hurt Thomas, Logan. We’re just looking into something that you would find no interest in,” Janus said calmly.

“How can I be sure when you are working with Remus?” Logan said, making Remus’ heartbreak more.

“Remus might talk like he would hurt Thomas but he would never,” Virgil said.

“Then you won’t mind me asking what you're working on?” Logan said sitting at the table.

The dark sides looked at each other trying to decide what to do.

“We are just looking into something the dragon witch did,” Janus said carefully. One wrong word and they might never see the ones they loved again.

“Why?” Logan asked.

“It seems to have affected the dark side imagination and we would like to know why,” Janus lied.

“Very well. I shall leave you to it, but if I find out you lied to me none of you will be welcome in the light sides again,” Logan said and left.

Once the door closed, Remus broke down. Logan hated him and he was losing hope in getting his Logan back. The one who would do experiments with him because they both loved science. The one who would ramble about space. The one who helped him with his intrusive thoughts. The one who held him after he had a nightmare and assured him that he was alright and everything would be okay. The one who was always by his side. The one who helped him make his ideas as realistic as possible. The one who assured him that he wasn’t broken and didn’t need to be fixed.

Virgil and Janus pulled him into a hug and tried to calm him down. Saying that now that they knew what was wrong they could start trying to fix it properly. Remus just sobbed, because his Logan hated him. When Remus finally calmed down, they got back out the books and papers and began trying to figure out what they could do to jog the others' memories.

Virgil unlocked his phone and opened his gallery and hunted down the last picture he had taken before that horrible morning. It was both of them curled up together under the stars with the fairy lights twinkling from the tree’s and Roman kissing his cheek. Logan was in the background with Remus in his arms pointing at the stars and talking about them. Janus was chasing Patton who had taken the deceitful side's hat and was running around with it. It was one of his favorite pictures but it also hurt to look at and reminded him of everything they had lost.

“We need to find the Dragon Witch when she revives,” Virgil said.

“Why?” Janus asked.

“It’s her book so the odds are she cast this curse so she should know how to break it,” Virgil said.

“But why would she do this?” Janus asked.

“Revenge,” Remus said.

“Exactly. We never got along with her and what better way to get back at us then take the thing that means the most to us,” Virgil said.

“When does she revive?” Janus asked Remus.

“She should be back in a day or two,” Remus said.

“Then let's set a trap so we can catch her,” Virgil said, getting up.

“Sounds like a plan,” Janus said.

“But we don’t know where she will revive,” Remus said.

“But she has to go home right,” Virgil said.

“And this is why you're our leader,” Janus said.

“Let’s go,” Virgil said, moving to the door, “We need to get what we’ll need from Remus’ room.”

“Alright,” Remus said.

Janus and Remus followed Virgil to Remus’ room. Virgil began to gather what they would need for the trap. Once they had everything they headed towards the imagination, only to run into Roman. Virgil squared his shoulders and looked at Roman his heartbreaking at the hate he saw in the eyes of his love. Roman glared at Virgil and Remus placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

“What are you three doing?” Roman asked.

“None of your business, Princey,” Virgil said and went to move around the princely side.

“It is to my business as to why you are bringing whatever you are into my domain,” Roman snapped.

“The dark side of the imagination is not your domain Roman,” Virgil reminded him.

“Why are you going to the dark side?” Roman sneered.

“Because we need to get something. Now move!” Virgil hissed.

Roman sneered but moved and the trio headed into the dark side of the imagination making a beeline for the Dragon Witches cabin. They needed to work fast before the Dragon Witch returned to life. Plus they wanted to check on the spot they had spent the last day with the light sides, which had ended up in the dark side of the imagination as a constant reminder of what they had lost that day. The dark sides visited regularly to remind themselves to not give up and to just keep trying to get what they had lost back. That it hadn’t all been a dream and at one point they had been happy and loved and not shunned and hated.

Once they finished they headed to the spot and sat looking up at the stars. Remus began telling the stories that Logan had once told him, Virgil sang the songs Roman had once sung to him, and Janus told the jokes that Patton had once told him. They reminded themselves of what they were fighting tooth and nail to get back. Reminded themselves that it was real and they hadn’t just imagined it. That no matter what, they would get their loves back one way or another.

#patton sanders #janus sanders #moceit #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #sander sides #sanders sides fanfiction

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