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iznsfw · 2 years ago

Note

hi, can u write a wonyoung x male reader fluff?

Even Princesses Cry Sometimes

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male/Female Reader Fluff

2,123 words

Categories | short, slightly angsty, idol!Wonyoung, caring!reader, tears and cuddles

Very short and late, but who cares?

Maybe I'll catch up with Yujin and Yuri some of these days.

It’s always another day, another front she’s putting up. Another disguise. Of course, only you know about the partial artificiality of it all. When she tries to put on a brave face throughout her schedules, or tells a particularly rude fan to take care of themself despite their scathing words, part of your heart just aches with the knowledge. Like you, she’s still so young - no eighteen-year-old has to bear with the pressure of the world burdening their shoulders like rocks.

No eighteen-year-old has gone through as much as Jang Wonyoung has. You want to make it easier for her, but she almost never lets you. She’s built such a great wall around herself that even you, her partner, can’t break through. Even if you summoned all the might into your fists and beat around its bricks, it would take long before you can even make a hole.

For the wall to be broken, the one who built it must reach out.

Gaze at the television and wonder when that will happen. It’s rarer than anything. But there she stands, gorgeous as always. Her dark hair flows in the night, and the blue dress that drapes around her form makes her look like a princess. With the colors and her makeup, she can easily pass as a Korean Cinderella. No, she can’t be Cinderella - Wonyoung never needs someone to save her. She was never a damsel in distress, which is why she’s expressed her dislike for the tale so many times:

(“It’s so… fucking odd, jagi-ya,” laughed Wonyoung, over a pack of potato salted-egg chips, while she lounged with you on the sofa. The TV was on, the classical Cinderella was playing, and Wonyoung was… well, unimpressed. She ran through her locks of messy curled hair and added, “I understand the situation. I really do—”

“You don’t,” you interrupted truthfully, but not without a smile. Oh, never without a smile; Wonyoung is your happy pill, no matter what she says.

Wonyoung laughed loudly, pushing you in the chest hard. Laughter overtook her tiny frame. “Fine, fine!” she admitted. “I don’t, but see here… this is fucking ridiculous. It’s just- ugh!” She rolled her eyes and gave you an exasperated look. “But you get me, don’t you? You get what I mean?”

There was a hint of fear in those beautiful eyes of hers. Something told you that the question was born not out of frustration, but was instead from caution nested in the swindle of circumstance the universe had blown her to. Was Wonyoung afraid she would offend you? Had the headlines and tabloid articles created a phobia she’d never dare tell anyone - not even you?

But then your lips found her forehead creased with lines of worry, and you felt them relax beneath the touch of your love. Wonyoung settled into your arms as if she were your little songbird, and you were the only nest she found that would not break.

“I do, hon,” you told her. “I do.”)

Fine, you’d settle for her being no one because not one princess out there can match Wonyoung in everything she does. She’s the perfect girl, the perfect idol. She’s pretty, talented, and charismatic enough to attract all of her success by herself. No girl her age is at the point of success she has at her fingertips. But it’s something that can easily be snatched from her with just the wrong move. Everyday is a challenge for her; too much smiling equals to her being too flirtatious, but little smiling and winks mean that she’s too reserved and self-centered to take notice of the people around her. In everything she does, begrudged people find a way to twist it around into a bad light.

You admire how resilient she is. Much to the shock of her admirers and fanatics, it isn’t exactly ideal to live a life being so closely watched. Not even with all the wealth she possesses. The way she has learned to cope with it independently teaches you more life lessons than any seminar could. But you want to remind her sometimes that she doesn’t have to be strong all the time with you. You can take her falls. You have each other, don’t you? Isn’t that what partners are for?

The fall of the princess is televised, put out there for everyone to pick apart and make fun of. Worst of all, you aren't able to catch her.

Wonyoung is happy to find out that her group, the monster rookie idol band IVE, won a lot of medals and marked new milestones. But now tears slip down her beautiful face. The camera focuses on her. It loves her, craves her - every bit of Jang Wonyoung is too pretty to not be captured and immortalized; of course it does. She sees it and tries to stop, but the fat drops of grief - grief for what could have been, what should have been; grief for her young self who wasn’t and isn’t able to enjoy the last few years of her childhood - continue to pour down like rain.

As the colorful confetti falls from the roof of the grand stadium, she falls, too, and the members start to take notice. Yujin leans over to ask if she needs a tissue, and Jiwon rubs a comforting hand on her back. But none quench the need for a hug she has buried deep inside her heart. She needs someone beyond her friends slash co-workers. She needs you.

Wonyoung looks around. There are only crowds and crowds of noisy fans and cameras flashing. But her observant eyes scrutinize every corner in the large room for any sign of you. There’s still hope in her heart that you’ll come dashing into the show to help her. Sort of like a knight in shining armor in a children’s fairy tale.

Jagi-ya? Where are you? I need you right now, please. You can’t leave me here.

Then she remembers: her life may be glamorous, but it isn’t a fairytale. She’s only one girl, in a massive crowd of people she doesn’t know, trying to make it through the night. Her thoughts are making it more than difficult though. They consist of the pain she went through to get here: those dark nights where she practiced till her legs felt like they were going to snap, the harsh scolding she received from teachers, days when her schedules were so packed that she didn’t even have the time to eat or even breathe…

Wonyoung’s makeup is stained with her own sadness. She’s gorgeous - that’s an indisputable fact, she’s talented, she’s young and successful. But what are the hardships she had to bear and all its blooming fruits worth if she doesn’t have you?

She’s torn up from the inside. She needs you now, more than anything, yet you are nowhere to be found. But it isn’t your fault. She’s been too reserved and private after all, dealing with her matters and affairs by herself. It’s only natural that you would think that she can handle her tears. Compared to everything she has to handle, tears are merely a little thing. You’re already used to the idea of her being self-reliant, so why would you show up now?

Her phone buzzes all of a sudden. One click at the side of the costly phone case, she’s able to see your messages.

You | 11:47 PM | Hey, princess?

You want to take the night off a little early? Watch some clueless? :)

And she thought you’d never come.

Wonyoung crashes between your rounded arms. This time, you don’t worry about messing up her hair, which must have taken hours to curl. You don’t hold yourself back from taking her in your arms, although the stylists warned her not to ruin the pretty blue dress. No, you bury your face into her neck, kissing it over and over. You’re happy to see her; only meeting her less these past few weeks has made you lonelier than you’d like to admit. And you know that she’s happy too; her tearful, beautiful eyes sparkle when she gazes up at you. But you also know that, although she would rather die than admit it, she’s been missing the comfort of someone caring for her.

She’s a princess, and you’re her knight in shining armor. Wonyoung rarely needs you, much less a knight to come save her. But she appreciates your love. She’ll hide it behind blushes and playful circles of her eyes, but she loves you. It comforts her that you do, too.

People are staring. The cameras start flashing. The same fear gathers up in Wonyoung’s heart again, but this time, she shoves it aside. She’s not going to hide her love for you anymore. She won’t let anyone get in her way.

The wall has finally broken and deteriorated.

Wonyoung seizes your face in between her slim hands, and kisses you deeply. It surprises you; her full lips are extremely soft, brushing over your pink ones and locking them with hers. Her eyes close, but your eyelids remain parted. This time, you’re the one scared. You aren’t scared of your own reputation, but for Wonyoung. What will the media do when they find out she has a partner already? Oh, how they’d villainize her! How they’d paint her into a promiscuous, indifferent queen bee!

“W-Wonyoung,” you stammer, when she finally stops. “The, the media—”

“Darling, please. I don’t care anymore. I just want you.”

Her words feed into a phone-installed recorder nearby. The woman holding it looks horrified, but Wonyoung simply gives her a coy wink. You smile; that’s the Jang Wonyoung you know.

You smile sincerely. Brush the tears from her face with your thumb, and realize just how much you love Wonyoung. It’s like destiny tied your threads together from the beginning. You were just a fan of her back in Produce 48 because you love how brave she was to put herself out there, despite being your age only. Hell, you couldn’t do that. When she met you at a fanmeeting and discreetly passed you her number, you were on top of the world. It was straight out of a fanfiction.

But all fanfictions end. That can’t be said about you and her. You’re best friends, lovers, and frenemies all at once. Your relationship is built around deep friendship, and that’s why you’re certain that the love you share with Wonyoung will go on forever.

“That’s my girl,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. It’s only you and her in this stadium. All the others are faceless ghosts, nothing to worry about. “Movie night?”

Wonyoung smiles giddily. “You bet!”

For the first time in years, Wonyoung completely cuddles up in your lap. Thank your parents for having tall genes; if you were any shorter than Wonyoung, you would be the one seated in her lap. It would be the other way around.

You still keep CDs, so you’re able to watch Clueless with her on the television. She’s raptly watching the iconic chick flick, mimicking the main character with “As if!”s and laughing afterwards. But you’re more interested in her rather than the film itself. Wonyoung is the prettiest when she’s happy. The companies love her trendy poses when she shoots magazine covers or photos, but her most charming self is this:

Half-moon eyes, mouth stretched into a giggly grin, and her hand becoming the resting place of her cheek as she laughs over and over at the comedic timings of the movie. Her brown hair in its uncurled natural state resting at her shoulders, which are not trapped in one of the stage outfits anymore, but rather a big, gray sweatshirt that was once yours. You want it back, but she looks better in it than you do, so you speak nothing about it.

Wonyoung falls asleep just when Clueless is about to reach its conclusive end. With strong, trained arms, you carry her over to your shared bed and tuck her to bed. She stirs a little, but she doesn’t open her eyes. She only smiles, knowing you have her back now, and beckons you under the sheets.

Slide under the comforter and wrap a protective arm around her. Moments like these make you happily remember that Jang Wonyoung isn’t merely just an idol, but your girlfriend. Your little spoon. Your baby rabbit. At the same time, you match all her curved puzzle pieces, and act the role of being her partner, big spoon, and a caring person who won’t let any hunter find her.

You’re made for each other. And as you snuggle closer to Wonyoung, your puzzle pieces connect. You promise, silently, to never let go.

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corvuserpens · 2 months ago

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The Oath - A "Black Sails" oneshot fic

Here it is, the angst fest of Billy reacting to Gates' death! I've had the full thing sitting in my drafts for days, itching to edit it and post it, but life kept getting in the way. Well, yesterday I overworked on my Master's dissertation, so today I made time. This is set on the day Billy returns to Nassau, after talking to Silver and recounting what happened to him to the rest of the Walrus crew. I hope you enjoy the read and weep as much as I did lmao 🥂 Obviously, trigger warning for death mentions and dealing with grief.

Billy bones entered the wash tent alone. There was a porcelain basin with clean water there, and some soap for anyone to use. The towels were desperately needing a wash, however. No matter. He could sit it out and air dry enough before putting his rags back on and go find new clothes. There was also a cracked mirror on the corner that he paid no attention to. Slowly, biting back the complaints each movement gave him after weeks locked in that leather vest, he removed his shirt and trousers and tossed them onto the sand. He picked up the jar by the basin, plunged it into a bucket bucket full of water and turned it over his head, hissing as it offered some respite to his burned skin. It didn't last very long; the Bahamas heat soon warmed the liquid to match his own body temperature, but fuck if it didn't feel good. Next, he picked up the bar of soap, also dipped it into the bucket and started washing the sand, sweat salt and dirt from his skin--

His eyes caught sight of his reflection, freezing him. With hesitant steps, he came closer and tilted it downwards to really take himself in. His face was an angry red color, with bits of skin peeling off, and his lips cracked and scabbed over. His ankles and feet were also burned, and every inch of him was covered in bruises of varying shades, especially around the ribs. There were dark purple rings beneath his eyes, which still had the same color and shape, but his days in captivity had put something there that hadn't been present before. A little glint of something feral. Something scared. Something... broken.

He could barely recognize his own image.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Billy forced himself to look away and take a seat on the wooden bench in front of the basin. As he rubbed off every bit of dirt until he could see the color of his own skin again, his mind began to wonder.

Inevitably, it turned to Gates.

Who was dead.

God, he still couldn't believe it. How could he be dead? What could possibly have happened that could lead to such an outcome? It was too hard to accept he could have been randomly killed in battle. Or had an accident. Or something as ridiculous as suffering a heart attack. Gates wasn't invincible, no one was, but Billy had always thought the man was too lucky or too experienced to die. He had never been sick a day in his life, not in all the years since Billy had joined.

But of course, he could have died from any one of those things. Hell, he could have died from a number of any other things, and all of them would have been better than the truth... which was that no one knew exactly how he had died.

Even Silver wasn't sure of what had happen. All anyone on the crew was certain of was that Mr. Gates followed captain Flint into the great cabin, and that was the last time they saw him alive. Flint's account was that Gates' heart had given out and that was it. Dufresne and some of the others were sure Flint had murdered him when he threatened mutiny after arriving to where the Urca de Lima was supposed to be and finding nothing. Regardless, no one was in that cabin to say what went down, except the two of them. Only Flint could tell, but Billy didn't trust a single word that came out of his mouth. And even where Billy himself was concerned, no matter what he had told the others, he also wasn't sure if Flint had lost his grip on his hand during the storm or simply let him go when he perceive him as a threat, as well. What was true and what wasn't, he didn't know.

And perhaps... it didn't really matter. It didn't matter how Gates had died. It mattered that he was dead.

Billy's hand stopped on his shoulder, only now noticing the suffocating tightness in his lungs. It had been there since he was told, slowly, steadily building up. While he had been talking to Silver, chained like an animal to a post, and then telling his brothers what he had gone through with the British navy, he had managed to bury it in his chest and ignore it, surprisingly easy. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, each passing minute it got harder and harder to do so. He scrubbed away at one arm, then the other, then a leg, a foot, all the while trying desperately to swallow the raw emotion growing inside him. It squeezed his throat, like it was trying to claw its way out. His stomach began to hurt something awful as he poured water down his head once more, washing away the soap and the filth off of himself.

The worst part though, was how heavy his eyes felt. The second he was aware of it, his chest constricted until he could barely breathe. He tried to forcefully suck in some air through his nose, only to find it stuffed. His head was swimming, from the building pressure around his eyes and from the memory of when he was finally freed from the navy's impressment.

Billy had been a small, weak thing then, but when Gates had found him, he had personally fed him, given him clothes to put on his back, taught him how to shoot and to use the cutlass. He had taken that fragile boy under his wing and taught him to be strong, to stand up for himself, to kill. And then, little Billy grew up into a man beloved by his friends, his brothers, this odd family that had found him on the brink of death and thought him worthy enough to recruit.

Gates had seen something in him, and to this day, he still didn't know what it was, but everything he had become, everything he had accomplished, he owed it to that man. Billy had respected him, looked up to him... yes, even loved him. He thought about how often Gates would call him "son" in recent years, and he couldn't fight back anymore.

The soap bar slipped from his trembling grasp. His hands went around his shoulders and buried the broken nails into his mistreated flesh, and he let himself curl up into a ball as his eyes shut tight and his features twisted painfully. Hot tears flowed freely down his burnt cheeks and dripped from his chin, as he took one shaky breath after the other.

Gates was dead. Gates was dead, and he died thinking Billy had preceded him. He never would know that this boy he had raised into a respected and revered pirate in his own right was still alive. Billy would never get to have the reunion he had prayed for, the one thing that had kept him sane all throughout the torture. It had been the lifeline he had grasped onto while violence was inflicted upon him. He never would get to thank Gates for everything he had done for him. Never would get to rise to be quartermaster in full, instead of serving as a replacement, then turn around and see the proud smile on his face. All those hopes, those dreams, had died with him.

For the first time since he had been pressed into the navy, Billy Bones sobbed. He rocked himself back and forth, his soul shattering into a thousand pieces. Someway somehow, he was expected to get up, put his clothes back on, and march out there like nothing had happened, but in that moment, he didn't have it in him. The sorrow that gripped him couldn't be forced to back down, and honestly? He didn't want to. So he wept, and wept, and wept, for what seemed like hours. Every time he tried to wipe away the tears and finally breathe, another wave would come and force him under. He held his pounding head in a hand and coughed, choked and moaned, but the tide of grief would not subside.

What was he to do, now...? Without Gates to hold everything together and make Flint listen to reason, what hope was there for him and the others? They would look up to him as Gates' chosen successor to look out for their well-being and their interests, but he didn't have any sway with Flint. Gates was the only one he listened to, and he was gone. What was he supposed to do, now...?

At last, his body stopped shivering and calmed. His breathing evened, allowing him enough respite to at least straighten up and let his hands fall on his lap. A couple of weaker sobs still managed to come out, but they too faded away after he cleared his throat and spat out the sticky saliva mixed with snot.

The crew would look to him to guide them, now. He had to get up and fight because whatever Flint was - liar, murderer, tyrant - on one very critical point he was right: civilization was coming to exterminate them. It would come and take every single person he knew and loved, and swallow them whole. Gates had only been the first casualty in the war that was now inevitable. Billy still didn't know how he would get Flint to listen to him, but that was a matter for another day. Despite how resentful he felt toward him, Flint was the only man in this island full of maniacs who was aware of the real threat looming on the horizon, which meant he was the only man with a way to ensure their survival through what was coming.

And yet, his post was at risk. With dissent and distrust rampant in the crew, it was only a matter of time before another attempt at mutiny was made. That is, if he wasn't voted out, first. That was something Billy could fix. He had learned from the best. Gates was not around to protect them anymore, but he had taught his protegée well. He owed it to Gates' memory to continue his work and make sure he saved as many as he could from the empire and from Flint. That was how he would honor him and the bond they had shared. That was the pillar he would lean on as he mourned his loss.

Billy Bones washed the tears from his eyes with a handful of water, stoop up to his feet and put his rags back on, effectively pulling himself together. Hal Gates was dead, but his legacy would live on through the boy he had seen some sort of potential in, even if he himself could not quite discern it yet. For as long as he drew breath, he would honor and continue that legacy.

That was his solemn oath, which he trusted to guide his steps, now and for the rest of his life. He only prayed it would lead them all to some place better, where their skies were always clear and they were all alive and free; then Billy could lay down on the beach one last time and be at peace, knowing he had kept his word, and that wherever Gates was, he could look down on him and smile with pride.

#black sails #black sails fanfic #billy bones #hal gates #canon compliant fic #billy bones fanfic #billy bones oneshot #black sails oneshot #stories by Crow

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sanajeh1909 · 1 year ago

Text

The Spy and The Spouse

Pairing : Chamber x F!Reader

Word Count : 5989

Warnings : Flirting, Romantic Tension, Spying/Action (only mentions of it, there is nothing much except the detailed description of whats happening), Jealousy, Unrequited Love (at the end on Chamber's part), Emotional Themes.

POV : 3rd Person

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

A/N : Sorry for my poor English, its not my native language. Chamber can be a bit OOC. Gif doesnt belong to me. Please do tell if there is any mistakes or off talks/writings on the scenario. There is so many expressions of the situation more than talks because i have no idea what to write as conversation, i have ran out of ideas. I had hard time writing this since i burnt my wrist accidentally now its hard to type without putting my wrist on the side of the keyboard. Yellow is for Chamber, Pink is for Reader, other colors are for side characters. I hope you enjoy it.

The day of the mission comes. She wears black one shoulder long sleeve black dress with black suede wedge heels. Her glasses are same design as Chamber's, except hers was thin framed and had soft edges on rectangular shape. Her hair is braided on both sides to the back and the rest of her hair is combed to the back. This made their hairstyles match.

While she was getting ready, Chamber put on his suit, matching her outfit perfectly. Chamber had been very particular about his own attire. The suit itself was black in color, it was a modern fashion design. It was tailored to his body to look as sharp as a knife. A crisp white shirt underneath was accompanied by a black tie with little black details. His hair, per usual, was undercut slickback.

When she finished, he walked in looking sharp and composed. When he saw the finished look, he was surprised to see how well put together she looked. Almost to a T to how she looked. Almost.

He raised an eyebrow at her look and expression, as if he were about to laugh at how ridiculous he found her similar sense of fashion. Then, he just grinned devilishly. Arent we a slick couple?

He was very confident in his appearance, as he should. After all, he was going to be playing the smug, arrogant husband. She smirks at him and walks towards him confidently. Her back is straight and her chin is slightly up. We will crush them just with our presence, it seems.

He couldnt help but admire how well you took the role of the wife. His eyes traveled upwards from your heeled shoes to the matching dress to your hair to the glasses that only gave you a more charming aura. One of his hand on his pocket, he offers his other arm to her and a smug smile on his face. I couldnt have picked a better partner. We make quite a pair.

She smirks at him and takes his arm. They get in the car, Chamber holding her door for her before going to the drivers seat. With Chamber driving to the party in silence, they are preparing themselves for the mission mentally.

As they arrive, they walk to the party with their arms intertwined. The party is filled with businessmen, CEO's and their spouses in simple yet classy dresses.

The host gives them both an appraising look before looking at Chamber. That look was followed by a small nod. Well, look at this. If it isnt Mr. and Mrs. Fabron. It was an odd feeling to have someone refer to her as a married couple. It was weird to be called Mr. and Mrs. Fabron, but it had a quite weird feeling that made her wanted to be called like that.

The man gesturs towards the crowd of guests. It was a variety of different types of people. The only unifying factor was money.

The moment they stepped inside was the second that the mission and the married couple act started. They even made custom rings to play along. That costed the couple more than they expected, but it would worth if it meant for success.

Chamber walks alongside of her, enjoying how her arm fit so nicely with his. He couldnt help but look at all the men who kept glancing up at her admiringly as they walk. He couldnt blame them. Even before he was a "married man", she looked good enough to make heads turn. All she had to do was show up.

He smiles at her side. He is still the charming bastard for the night. He whispers in her ear. This is going to be fun.

She smirks at his words and whispers back. Show has just begun, darling. Just watch and see.

He chuckled a little, liking this side of her. In the middle of his mission, he was finding himself to enjoy just being beside her. Being in this role of a married couple was different, it felt more... wholesome. It was... nice.

He gives her a little squeeze of her hand. He looks around, analyzing the crowd, looking for certain people. Alright. Just follow my lead, alright?

She nods. After all, he was more experienced than her in this type of situations, so the both had agreed to follow his lead. They have praticed and spend more time to get used to each other, but now they needed to put them all on the act.

Chamber turns his head to face you. He straightens his suit, making sure everything was clean before facing the guests. She was starting to get some glances. Some from men, and some from women. Of course, everyone thought she were just a beautiful woman with a handsome husband. No one suspected them being an undercover agent. They had to have their guards up. Especially in this kind of party.

A small smile crossed his face. This was going to be fun. Alright. Act, beloved wife.

Of course, mon mari~. She wears her most charming and sweet smile as they get close to a poseur table. The guests greets us and we greet them back.

Chamber does his best to make sure his smile looked both charming and smug. With her beside him, the smug smile had a little more genuine edge to it. With the guests, he looked at her with pride, like seeing his trophy wife. You played the part so damn well, how could he not show some pride? ;)

She takes a deep inhale, enjoying the feeling of the atmosphere around them. No one could tell the twi were anything but an extremely loving, happily married couple. No one would suspect a thing until him and her make a move. This had to be a good plan. This has to go well.

She pulls a waiter towards their table. Chamber looks at her out of the corner of his eye. He was making sure she was acting her part. Do you want something to drink, darling? She asks as she glances at the waiter, then she smiles at Chamber.

Chamber couldnt stop lookin at her. Acting and pretending felt... good, with her. She acter her part, like a good "married couple", and made the act so believable he almost forgot the reason they were there. This moment, the most intimate part of it all, was so convincing it blurred a line in his mind that he didnt know was there.

Chamber looks at her and whispers, still smiling. Your choice.

She smiles at him warmly, not too excessive to pull the attention to me, not insincere to look cold towards him. Then, im ordering Bordeaux Blend for you and for me... You choose. She gives him a subtle smirk with her voice is velvet-like and lowered.

He couldnt help but smile. In this moment, she acted so well, he would honestly consider taking her out of this plan and just make her his wife. He spoke in with a deep, warm and velvety tone, trying to match her. With a certain confidence, he orders a glass of champagne for her. This would work. A toast in advance...

After short while, waiter comes with the orders and they get their beverages. He turns his gaze towards her. For a successful mission.

She smiles at him. No one heard his sentence, that was a good thing. For our success.

A successful mission... and a successful marriage. He said the last part with a grin. It was half out of instinct, the other half just for show. It was part of the act, a married couple that planned their future together. Yet it was odd to him that he wanted that future with her, someone that came into his life at a most unusual time.

The people on the other tables clinks their glasses almost at the same time with them, then they take small sip from the beverage. It was time to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Her eyes slowly returns to scan the crowd. A lot of suspicioous types there... A lot of interesting people...

Chamber leans back slightly, his eyes sweeping across the party as he thought. His eyes landed on a certain target at the right side of the room, clearly a high-ranking businessman that looked to be talking to a woman in a nice dress.

He leans closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper. You see that man on the right with the gorgeous woman? His name is Laurent Danton. I know him from previous missions. That woman he is been talking to is Anette Chavois, the CEO's daughter. Our mark.

She looks at the targets without making it obvious, then speaks in a tone that matches his. Yeah, lets keep an eye on them and approach carefully.

He whispers into her ear. I have been keeping an eye on him tonight, and the target always moves between drinks. Its perfect for us to take advantage of this.

He pulls his head back to look at her. As soon as he leaves his current target, we should make our move. Do you agree?

Yes, on your lead. She whispers to him, then both takes long sip from their beverages.

He gives her an enthusiastic nod and looks at his watch, keeping on eye on Mr. Danton from the corner of his eye. He could see that the man was getting into particularly... interesting discussion with the woman he was with, his right arm slightly draped on her shoulder. It looked to be a private conversation.

Chamber checks his watch once more, and with a slight flick of his head he indicates that its time. The couple puts their empty glasses on the tray that was on waiters hand which was passing by, then they make their move. Now the show is about to begin.

Once Mr. Danton took a few steps away from his partner, Chamber immediately moved towards the two, with her on his arm. The man looks at them, surprised to see the handsome couple approaching him. He offered a warm smile to Chamber and shifts his gaze to the stunning woman on Chamber's arm, offers a handshake while addressing her...

Laurent Danton. Pleasure. And you are?

She gives a smile mixed with a smirk. she shakes Laurent Danton's hand eleganty. Y/N Fabron.

Its clear Danton likes the sound of her name, and she is pretty sure he just took a long look at her. Danton has eyes for women, that much is clear. Not just any women, though. Women that are just as gorgeous as her. She could tell by the way his eyes were fixated on her.

Chamber speaks before Laurent can come up with a flirtatious comment directed his wife. Vincent Fabron. He shakes Danton's hand, then moves his hand towards her in a welcoming gesture. My wife. She bows slightly as if she is proud to be Vincent's wife, still smiling at the businessman.

Laurent's eyebrows raise. He looks between the two of them, then he chuckles, clearly impressed. What a beautiful couple you make, to have such a stunning and gorgeous woman with you, Mr Fabron. And his eyes lingered back at her. If they werent pretending to be wife and husband, the man would obviously be flirting with her left and right.

Chamber didnt look away but his arm tightened on her hand, and his eyes narrowed in a focused manner. He didnt like these kinds of people in the slightest. After a few moments of silence, he speaks with a casual tone, like this was a random encounter. So, i understand you are friends with Anette Chavois? Thats an interesting woman, if i have ever met one. The tone wasnt quite hostile... but it wasnt friendly either.

He directly went to the topic. No games, no subtle meanings... She still keeps smiling and strokes his arm slightly to signal him if something goes wrong, she will back him up.

A quiet smile on Laurent's lips. He notices that stroke, no doubt. He knew it was meant for him to signal if something was wrong. But she looked absolutely charming, and the fact that she was touching him was just as effective. Even the woman he was with tilted her head, looking at her with admiration.

Laurent clears his throat, his smile growing wider by the second. Of course, we are good friends. Anette and me, we go way back.

Chamber looks over at her and gives her a smug smile, proud of how she was able to carry herself. He then looks back towards Laurent. You two must have a lot to talk about then. He makes a small pause. Or perhaps i can steal my wife for a moment?

She chuckles softly, it was fake but it made the mood that was getting heavy a little bit lighter. Mr. & Mrs. Fabron could see the man considering the decision. He clearly wanted to say yes, being a man of status and privilege... but the hesitation came from him wanting to keep Y/N close, too. An excuse to have her nearby just to look at.

Laurent chuckles. Just for a moment. He gestures towards his partner. Anette looks at her again, her eyes studying Y/N, perhaps a little too intently. Y/N knew that look. Anette was jealous. Of her.

Y/N smiles and they take some steps back, to have some privacy away from the crowd, including the businessman and CEO's daughter.

Chamber turns to face her, speaking quietly so only she can hear his words. His tone was soft and sweet... Are you okay, wife?

His arms wraps around her waist, his eyes closing in satisfaction. She was the only thing he could focus on, like a beautiful distraction that would lead to a dangerous spiral. He was just making sure her part was going well.

She reaches a hand to the side of his neck, gently caressing, her hand trails down to his shoulder sometimes and trails back to his neck. I am, except the hungry looks of Laurent. If we werent on a mission, i would have taken care of him. But i have to bear it now. She speaks in quiet tone, almost playfully and pouting, but he knew she was serious on her words. She was clearly irritated by the flirtation of Laurent, but she was heeping the pose for the sake of the mission and Chamber.

His eyes narrowed slightly in irritation, his grip on her waist tightening in an almost possessive fashion. He was still playing the role, but the words were genuine. He didn't like the way these rich, flirtatious people tried to get at her. He gives a warm, friendly smile, but his eyes were stern. One hand stayed on her waist, the other hand ran across her shoulder to her neck. His thumb caressed her cheek.

Husband mode activated. If he so much as touches you, wife, I'll make him regret it. Dont worry, beloved wife. I will take care of this situation.

Then Laurent spoke up again, a clear tone of sarcasm in his question. Tell me, Mrs. Fabron. He was being far flirtier than anyone should, and he knew it. He was clearly enjoying it.

Chamber had no problems ignoring Danton's presence when she decided to keep talking to the man. If anything, it got him more irritated the longer the conversation with him went on. Laurent was just enjoying the situation a little too much… in an inappropriate manner. Chamber let out a quiet sigh, trying to keep his smile as polite as possible.

Laurent noticed the sigh, and he spoke up while giving him a smug smile.

Laurent seemed almost as arrogant as Vincent thought he would be. It wasn't a good look for a man in his position. It was good that he was an arrogant man, though, because it was exactly what Vincent wanted. What he needed. He was going to let the man have his arrogance, in order to catch him off-guard.

Chamber looked at her softly, wanting to protect her from this person…

Excuse me, Mr. Danton? She asks without turning her body towards Laurent, one hand on Chambers shoulder and other hand is on his arm. Chamber's arms are wrapped around her waist again. She gives a gentle smile to Laurent to not cause a scene, but her body language shows how much she got uncomfortable with his behaviors.

Laurent immediately stops, his eyes shifting towards her. It took more than a second to break the smile he gave. He turned to her, a charming grin on his face. One that could not hide his intentions. I did say just a moment, didn't I? He looked as though he couldn't help it; in fact, he was simply unable to take his eyes off Y/N. He looked at her with such a predatory smile. He gave off a certain aura that he was sure Anette was enjoying. No, she wasnt. She looked at Y/N with that familiar jealousy.

Y/N chuckles softly and let go of Chamber's shoulder, but then she holds onto his arm with both hands. Of course, you did, Mr. Danton. We got carried away, apologies.

The more she tried to act the part with Laurent, Anette's gaze didn't waver. Anette would glare at Y/N, as if to express how irritated she was by the situation. Her partner looked at Mrs. Fabron, Y/N, still with that predatory gaze and sly smile. All he would need was a simple word, and he would drop Anette right away. Y/N could see the attraction to her in his gaze. Y/N could almost feel Anette's jealousy behind her. Anette needed to look good to her own partner, and Y/N was certainly ruining that.

Anette rolls her eyes, obviously knowing the intention of both parties. She can't believe she has to share a partner with Mrs. Fabron. Anette looked like she wants to make a scene to get Laurent's attention back to her. She's the type who's used to having the attention on her. Anette clearly needs a lot of it.

Chamber is still in character, so he keeps a smile on his face. However, his grip slowly gets tighter and tighter on his partner's waist. He was getting genuinely annoyed by this flirtatious bastard.

Y/N feels the tight grip on her waist and puts her hand over his gently, their rings on their fingers were touching each other. She gently stroke his hand to calm him down.

Her hand was exactly the kind of distraction he needed. For a second, his attention was back on her, and her only. He looked to her, her hand stroking his, and the anger on his face slowly disappearing as his grip on her relaxed. The warmth of her hand put a grin back on his face.

He suddenly had a mischievous idea. He leaned in closer, as if they had something between them. He kept his voice low and calm, letting his eyes rest on Anette. Let's cut to the chase, darling. You know that won't last.

Y/N smirks at him. She had a plan and they found their targets, why miss them when they can catch them? Why don't we all sit and talk a little bit? She suggests to Laurent. By we, she meant all four of them, but she is sure he will accept it.

Laurent's expression changed a little, from the predatory and charming smile, to an expression of confusion and intrigue. He was clearly trying to read both of them, searching for their intentions. He looks back at Anette. Anette was still looking at her with anger, clearly not happy with how her partner was acting. He turned back to Mrs. Fabron with a grin. The more, the merrier, darling. Have a seat. He gestures towards the empty chairs. The four of them was certainly drawing a lot of attention from other guests.

Y/N smiles and they all four walk to the empty table enough for 4 people. They sit down on the table. Chamber next to her, Anette across her, and Laurent next to Anette and across Chamber.

Chamber looks at the table. He cant help but notice how close Anette and Laurent are sitting. It wasnt a matter of space at the table, it was an act of affection. A clear display to the other guests, as if it hadnt been clear already, this was a couple. Anette placed her hand on Laurent's, resting on the table. She wore a ring on it. A gold wedding band. Fabron couple saw a small glimpse of it.

Y/N was holding Chamber's hand and gave slight squeeze on his hand, signaling the ring on Anette's finger. Chamber feels her squeeze his hand and he returns the squeeze to reply that he saw the ring too. His eyes were on Anette and Laurent's interaction. They were… comfortable together.

Y/N was wondering how much longer she'd have to sit here in the presence of these people. She had a job to do. That was the only problem. But at that moment, all she wanted was to have a moment for just the two of them, Chamber and her. All they needed to do was get close to the Anette and Laurent, and make the couple trust them enough to give some information. except that everything was nothing but just empty words.

She waited and watched. Laurent and Anette's hand kept touching… and touching. Y/N's eyes wandered to see Anettes's face. Anette was clearly enjoying this conversation. She also noticed the woman kept glancing at Y/N and Chamber out of the corner of her eyes. It was like Anette was jealous, but Y/N couldn't say why. Chamber squeezes her hand again. He was just checking in with her. His grip on her hand was getting tighter. A sign he was getting impatient.

She strokes his hand, then starts a conversation to talk. An easy and light conversation that won't bother anyone. After a good hour, They all laugh and chat. They did their job and got the information they needed. They could leave after not so long.

Chamber gave a casual and handsome smile towards Laurent and Anette. His grip on her hand was starting to hurt, but he didn't care. He was too intent on ending this conversation. He also noticed her hand stroke on his a second time. So, Anette didn't manage to be in a corner of his attention anymore. All he could think about, all he could focus on, were her hands on his, and the way she looked at him with those beautiful eyes. He was too caught in the moment, almost forgetting his job.

Y/N turns her head around to look whats happening around them. Clearly bored from the atmosphere and the conversation yet she had to play it off. Chamber looks around and sees that some partners were looking at them with awe and admiration, some women with jealousy, and Anette with… jealousy as well. From the way Anette kept looking at her, he was sure his hypothesis were correct. …This might work. He looked at her. I have a plan I think you'll like.

Y/N looks at him confused, but they were partners, even if it was just an act, she had to trust him. Especially when they were on a mission.

Chamber takes a couple steps back, pulling her with him. He moves slowly, seductively, and with grace. He took some steps back, putting some space between the table Anette and Laurent were sitting and him and his partner. He grabbed her by the waist, his arms slowly pulling her in. His eyes never left hers, the same captivating look from before, just a little more intimate.

He started dancing with her on the spot. The music was slow, the atmosphere was right, and the way they kept looking at each other… It was perfect. Y/N turns her head around to look whats happening around them. There was a light romantic melody on the background and some couples were dancing together. They can do a little show before they leave, maybe?

She smirks as she understood what he was planning. She puts her hand on his shoulder as they dance, they were close enough to whisper to each other. She whispers with a smirk. You really put on a show, Mr. Fabron. She teases him with the title. He really knew what he was doing.

He just pulls her closer to him with a smirk, his face looking even more smug than usual. At that moment, his eyes locked on Anette's for a moment. The predatory and arrogant look was still there, but it changed ever so slightly. He was observing Anette's behavior. His hand slowly slides up to the back of her neck. It was so warm, so soft. He leans in closer to her ear, whispering with confidence. Did you enjoy the show, darling?

She couldn't help but chuckle, but She tried her best to keep the smug smile on her face. The music was perfect for this kind of slow dance. It has so far worked, beloved Fabron. She looks around the room, seeing all the eyes on them, all the eyes on the two of them.

He pulls his head back. Just enough to see her face, and just enough for her to see that grin. He slowly drags his fingertips across her face, tracing her mouth and chin, still staring at her. The way she looked at him, the way her eyes locked on his. He couldn't look away. Your body is amazing. He whispers. His lips are very close to hers, but the man decided against the last step… yet he was inches away, his mouth at a perfect distance from hers.

The couple was dancing together. As much as Anette hated it, that much was obvious. But even while she looked at the two of them with jealousy, there was no denying it: they were quite the couple. Anette was clearly starting to question her relationship with Laurent after seeing the way he kept looking at Y/N.

Y/N smirks at him, she knew his intention and whispers. Oh, my husband wants kiss? She chuckles softly. I hope you still remember this all is just an act at the end of the mission. I hope your heart won't break after a pretentious kiss.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her teasing. She was too bold sometimes. Still, he couldn't resist. Still inches away from her lips, he leans closer, his eyes locked on hers. He whispered, loud enough for only her to hear. …I do get to kiss my beautiful wife, right? She chuckles silently. Then… their lips meets in a tender, gentle, slow kiss.

It was everything he expected it to be, and so much more. His eyes lit up when she kissed back, their lips touching for those precious, blissful moments. He pressed his lips against hers, matching the same gentle and slow pace. This kiss was tender and beautiful, an act of pure affection. Even if they had to lie, even if this moment was going to be just for a short instant, the two of them kissed, as passionately as any husband and wife would kiss. But they had a job to do.

Their lips part away after the short kiss. She speaks whispering and teasingly as they walk back to the table. Be grateful my lipstick doesn't come off.

Even though he knew he shouldn't, the grin on his face widened. Somehow the kiss made him feel more confident and smug than usual, and he was completely aware of it. I would have been happy to get it off your face anyway. I wouldn't mind the red lipstick on my face. He gave her a devilish look, enjoying the little fun he was having, if not enjoying the mission itself.

She rolls her eyes and chuckles. It was time to leave, since Anette and Laurent was ready to leave this "businessmen party".

Chamber glances at Laurent and Anette, whose eyes were still on the two of them. Their eyes seemed to give off a different kind of energy now, like the kind of people who just got to the end of the perfect date. Anette seemed more enamored than ever, but Laurent seemed… different. Almost as if he was jealous. Jealous of Chamber for being Y/N's husband. Chamber checks his watch. It was time for them to wrap things up.

Chamber turns and addresses the four of them. We have had a lovely night, wouldnt you agree, chérie?

She smiles at him gently. Thats right, it was a pleasant night, mon mari.

He turns his body ever so slightly towards her, keeping his eyes locked on her. He then raises a hand in the air. A small gesture of leaving the party.

Chamber's gaze suddenly turned towards Laurent, their eyes locked, like if they were trying to outstare eavh other. Laurent looked away first, almost reluctantly. He could barely hide his annoyance, like he had the worst case of jealousy.

Y/N could feel Anette squeeze Laurent's hand, and a soft kiss on his cheek. She whispered something into his ear, and Laurent let a smile creep onto his face as he nodded. He didn't look at Y/N anymore.

We should go. Chamber's smirk returned.

She bows slightly and they both turn towards the exit, arms intertwined. She whispers to him, clearly exhausted and frustrated from everything. Finally.

He gave her a charming smile. Their mission was successful, and she did a great job being his wife for that period of time. His eyes fell on her lips, as if there was something to say but he chose not to say it. He held on a little more strongly to her arm. He just enjoyed the intimacy of being with her, like the most devoted husbands might do.

I feel like we should celebrate our success somehow. He smirks, looking like he had a few ideas on his mind.

I want to celebrate it by taking my shoes off and jumping in my bed for a good night's sleep. She speaks clearly irritated by the party, act and Laurent's flirting.

He cant help but chuckle and look at her sideways, rolling his eyes. He smirks at her playfully, still clearly trying to look like the most loving husband. I think i have the perfect remedy for that... He leans in closer. In the meantime, can my wife walk next to me, arm in arm, with a smile in that gorgeous face of hers? He looks at you with more than just a hint of affection.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Chamber opens the door for her, she slumps on the passenger seat. He gets in driver's seat. Lets just end this mission. And since we are done with pretending to be a happy married couple... She takes the ring out of her finger and puts it on the cup holder of the car.

If his eyes could go any wider, they would. His smile disappeared from his face, and was replaced by confusion. His reaction wasnt due to pain or sadness, it was due to the sudden change in tone. His confident, happy-go-lucky expression turned into a look of surprise... followed by something.

She could feel that something in his eyes. It was like a tiny flicker, but she saw it. He couldnt help but look surprised... and disappointed. He turned his gaze away. ...Of course. He starts the car.

She stares at the road in silence whole time back to the quarters. All the act, all the pose of married couple ended. She had told him in the first place, after this ends, everything will be over. Now everything ended, and they were going back to how they were.

Chamber kept driving. The radio was off, the windows slightly open, with a beautiful night and a clear sky outside. The silence was awkward, to say the least. His eyes were focused on the road, while his hand gripped tightly to the steering wheel. His face was emotionless, while his eyes were filled with regret. In such an odd way, even though the act was a lie, he felt hurt. Because of his role, because of who the target was, and because of her.

As he parks his car on the parking lot of headquarters, she had fallen asleep on the passenger seat on their way back after all the tiredness of the mission washed over her.

He opened the door and saw her asleep. His eyes looked down at her, her face so peacefully serene as she slept. He gave a small smile. He was proud at how well she managed to act for most of the time. He wasn't proud of something else, though. He got the ring from cup holder and put it on his jacket's pocket.

He gently picked her up so that she wouldn't wake up. With his arm under her legs and the other supporting her back, he walked to her room to lay her down. The way he walked and his face said: "I just want to take care of you."

He placed her on the bed, her body looking like a sleeping angel. He then sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep as he stroked her hair with extreme tenderness. His face was still expressionless, but his eyes gave the expression away. The look of... Love. He loved her. But that feeling would have to wait. He looked at the ring on the coffee table. He had to keep telling himself he had a job to do.

He placed her down carefully. He pulled the blanket up to my chin and he took off her shoes for her, placing them on the side of the bed. He then turns the light off, but he just stands there. Still no words, nor any hint of movement. He is just watching over her as she sleeps. Making sure she is comfortable. Making sure she is okay. Doing what a husband would do for their partner. It was an affectionate yet sad sight, if one could call it that. He had placed the ring she took off to the table on the bedside. She was still sleeping, her hair draped over the pillow, the blanket over her.

Chamber looks at her. He sees the beautiful and fragile features of her face, and the way she sleeps peacefully and serenely. He couldn't help but place a soft, tender kiss on her forehead. He lingered for a second, letting his lips linger, but he knew time was of the essence. He walked out, turning off the lights behind him, leaving her room pitch black.

On his way to his room, he turns towards her door once more. His chest filled with conflicted emotions, he turns away and enters his quarters, leaving her to rest. The mission was over, but his heart remained undecided.

He enters his own room. He sits down on his bed, looking at the bed beside his own. His face has an expression she've never seen, an expression that he had never expected. He was thinking about her. About the one woman who had the power to change his life. The one woman who made him feel both warm and cold. The one woman who made him feel so much affection and love at the same time. The one woman who could break his heart.

He throws himself on his bed to lay down. As if he was too annoyed with himself. Too much work, too much acting. His head spun with emotions. The mission was over. So why did his heart feel like a trainwreck?

Sorry if this sucks with too much explanation and lacking conversation and mission scenes/action. I had hard time to write something good and it was hard to type with burnt wrist so it took longer than intended. I hope this meets with your expectations.

#valorant chamber #valorant x reader #vincent fabron #chamber #chamber x reader #valorant fanfiction #chamber valorant #valorant chamber x reader #valorant vincent fabron

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nitewrighter · 2 years ago

Text

Edible Flowers and Heartbreakers

Here is the BapWeaver date fic! Because I said I'd do it!!

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Baptiste looked up at the strangely fluid serif-font of La Brasserie Brassique's sign, then squinted through the restaurant's window, trying to get a better look at what everyone inside was wearing. It was one of those restaurants that had that carefully calculated rusticity and coziness, that was undercut by a waitstaff that moved with the clipped, furious discipline, grace, and speed that suggested a highly professionally competitive atmosphere.

Baptiste internally debated whether or not to keep his tie on for the next two minutes. 'Brasserie' suggested a casual dining experience, but then again all the terrifyingly fancy and avant-garde restaurants were always naming themselves ridiculously vague and minimalist names like 'The place' or '12' or 'Salt' or stuff like that.

"You made it!" a buoyant, almost sing-songy voice behind Baptiste caused him to flinch to attention. He pivoted on his heel to see Niran.

Baptiste wasn't sure why he thought Niran would be any smaller without those big biolight petals constantly flanking him, the botanist architech still towered over him. He wondered if Vishkar forced its architechs to go through leg-lengthening surgeries to meet their high aesthetic standards—couldn't be any more invasive than taking one of their arms, right? Niran was dressed in his usual modified pha chung hang, but had swapped out his ivory-colored plunging neckline wrapped top for a less daring light blue tunic with delicate blooming trees embroidered in gold. The neural implants at the corners of his forehead were obscured by a more relaxed hairstyle, and a pale silken braid hung over one shoulder, tied off with a gold ribbon. A smile tugged at the corner of Baptiste's mouth as he wondered if this was Niran's attempt to appear more casual.

"Er--yeah, wasn't too hard to find," said Baptiste, adjusting his tie. Together, they both headed inside.

The interior of the restaurant was like a dark jewel in the evening light. The lights had turned on, but a little bit of twilight light made the multiple monstera and spider plant pots hanging above appear almost black. Their greenness was only barely maintained maintained by violet and warm yellow accent lights posted at strategic parts around the restaurant.

"Niran!" the hostess lit up from her little tablet pedestal and clasped her hands together, "You came!" Her eyes flicked over to Baptiste, "And... you brought someone!" The hesitance in her voice at this addition made Baptiste give Niran a short side-eye but Niran just beamed with that easy grace. "Tatienne, this is Baptiste. Baptiste, Tatienne."

"Charmed," said Baptiste, trying to match Niran's ease in the situation.

"We're here to take you up on that offer?" said Niran.

"R-right," Tatienne pushed a stray bit of hair back, maintaining composure, "This way, please."

Instinct made Baptiste want to request a table at the back, easy to keep an eye on the whole restaurant, constant eye on the entrance (and exit) and kitchen doors, but their table was located at a front window corner, cozy, decently lit, and frankly a little exposed for Baptiste's tastes. A mini holo-lantern projecting purple fractals like romanesco broccoli illuminated the center of their table. A waiter came by, set down their water glasses, ran through the usual spiel on the specials that night, and how the kitchen was willing to accommodate any allergies before setting their menus down in front of them and telling them to take their time and enjoy. Baptiste gave a glance over to Tatienne at her little podium and glanced back at Niran.

"...she likes you," Baptiste said, taking his seat.

"Mm?" Niran glanced up from the menu.

"The hostess. Come on, she took one look at me and it broke her heart!" Baptiste snorted.

"Wow," Niran scoff-laughed, "Come on, give her a bit more credit than that!"

"I'm giving you as much credit as necessary," said Baptiste, "So, what's the story?"

"There was a group that was insisting the restaurant needed insurance, and I stepped in on their behalf to say they were perfectly fine."

"So you're saying you fought off a protection racket that was threatening the restaurant."

"No! I mean--!" Niran's fingers curled in with a bit of helpless frustration, "It wasn't so vulgar."

"No, of course not," Baptiste sipped from his water glass, "You hold yourself to a professional standard."

"Anyway she asked if there was anything she could do to repay me and I knew it was notoriously difficult to get a reservation here, so I asked for a table for tonight, and she was all too delighted to elbow out some space for me."

Baptiste raised his eyebrows and pressed his leps together at Niran.

"Look, it's not like she would--" Niran was going on and then seemed to catch himself, clearly running the math of several social cues he may have missed in his recap of the events. "Oh," he said, and then "Oh..." a bit more concerned. He glanced over his shoulder at Tatienne at her little Maitre d' podium and his eyes flicked back to Baptiste.

"Do you think I should say someth--?" He shook his head, "A bit late for it now, isn't it?"

"A bit..." Baptiste conceded, "Heartbreaker."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like the drama," said Niran, looking back at his menu.

"I like drama I'm not be the center of," Baptiste admitted.

"Are you sure you're not the center of it?" Niran asked coyly.

Baptiste just snorted and picked up his own menu. He scanned for a seafood section, turned the menu over to find only the wine and other drink selection, thought for a moment, and did his best to hide his immediate realization.

Brasserie Brassique. Brassicas. Broccoli. Cabbage. Kale. Duh.

"...Of course it's plant-based," Baptiste chuckled over the menu.

"Is that a problem?" Niran gave a slight eyebrow waggle from behind his own menu.

"Not at all. Don't usually have the option, in my travels," Baptiste shrugged.

"Well, I'm glad your travels could bring you here," Niran said breezily, leaning back in his own seat.

"You make time in all your running from Vishkar to eat at fancy restaurants?" Baptiste, sipped at his water.

"Well.. 'stop and smell the roses' and all that," Niran was scanning his own menu.

"And...not to be crude but you're sure you're okay with treating?"

"Well, if you're sitting on a giant pile of mercenary gold and just happen to go for the cutely scuffed-up improvising globetrotter part, I won't say that's not incredibly attractive in a deeply wrong way," said Niran.

"I... am afraid the 'cutely scuffed up improvising globetrotter' aspect of my appeal is completely genuine," said Baptiste.

"Ah. Yes. Well, Mum sent me her latest, 'You're killing me, you're killing your mother, please don't starve' check, and I'm on good terms with the owners so--!" He gave a theatrical little hand flourish, "My treat."

Baptiste snorted. "Just how far do you plan on getting by on charm and people worrying about you alone?"

"It's gotten me pretty far as far as I can tell," Niran shrugged.

There was a shy little throat clearing next to them and they both glanced up to see the waiter with a small tablet.

"Are you ready to order?" asked the waiter.

"I'll have the radish cakes and endive," Niran handed his menu off to the waiter.

"And I'd like the portobello steak, please," said Baptiste, handing his menu off as well.

"Anything to drink?" the waiter asked.

Baptiste hesitated and wished he had taken a closer look at the cocktails menu, but Niran said, "We'd like the 2074 Côte du Rhone Guillard Collines Rosé--and if we could get both an ice bucket and a decanter that would be wonderful."

"I'll... see what we can do," said the waiter.

Niran immediately picked up on the curious way Baptiste was looking at him and explained, "There's a very specific equilibrium for that year and region. It's battery acid, otherwise."

"...right," said Baptiste.

"Trust me," said Niran.

"I do," said Baptiste.

Niran fidgeted with the end of his braid as a pause passed between them.

"So..." Baptiste started, "You've been traveling alone for a while, then?"

"Well... like I said earlier, you can get surprisingly far on charm and worry."

"What are your plans for taking on Vishkar?" Baptiste leaned back in his seat.

'To be honest, I thought more people would be turning on them at this point..." Niran murmured.

"2074 Côte du Rhone?" the waiter returned with the wine bottle in an ice bucket and stand in one arm and a decanter in the opposite hand. He looked a bit harried, like it had taken some negotiation to get both.

"Oh--lovely, thank you," said Niran as he set both down, "I can take it from here."

Niran was rapidly spiraling the wine around in the decanter when Baptiste spoke up again.

"I'm just asking because, it turns out the crew I'm running with is actively working against Vishkar," said Baptiste, watching Niran pour the swirled wine into glasses, "The approach isn't as organized as we'd like, but we'd be very interested in having more people with inside information with regards to combating them."

"Goodness," Niran tucked a stray bit of hair away from his temple, setting the decanter down, "And here I thought 'invite them to join your group of vigilantes' was reserved for the third date." He held a wine glass out to Baptiste.

"You like doing things your own way, I can respect that," Baptiste sniffed at his wine, "But there is safety in numbers, and I think we could use more people like you."

"'Like me' how?"

"Builders. Scientists--"

"Healers?" Niran arched an eyebrow.

"Yes," Baptiste said a bit sheepishly.

"To builders, scientists, and healers then," Niran raised his glass.

"Builders, scientists, and healers," Baptiste clinked his glass against Niran's. They both sipped the wine. Baptiste had to admit that the seemingly contradictory practice of both chilling and decanting had brought out an unusual balance of both a refreshing and less acidic sip, and opening the palette's attention to the wine's more floral notes.

Of course it has floral notes, he thought, wryly.

"Listen," Niran's expression was apologetic as he set his own wine glass down, "I was happy to help you out for that one mission, but as you've already mentioned, I do like doing things my own way. I also have to admit... I'm not entirely convinced the new Overwatch has learned from the old one's mistakes."

"Such as...?"

"Over-reliance on combat to solve problems?" Niran arched an eyebrow.

"You seem to hold your own in combat pretty well, though."

"It doesn't mean I enjoy it," Niran sipped his wine, "It's like fire, only I can never be sure whether I'm letting something burn itself out, or if it's spreading somewhere I can't see."

Baptiste took his own, small, hard gulp of wine at this.

"Believe me, no one is more aware than me of how few options I have. Vishkar has already done everything in their power to paint me as a thief and charlatan," said Niran. The melody left his voice here, and Baptiste felt a twinge of pain. Niran was an aesthete, that was clear, and the way he laughed things off and insisted he had no shame suggested a surprising resilience, but Baptiste could also sense a soft heart in there as well, someone who only ever wanted to help the world seeing all of their efforts and all the good they had done be drowned out by a cultish corporation trying to save face and push a bottom line, "The world is desperate for heroes, but I don't know if that desperation is enough to make people forget about how Overwatch let them down before."

"You're not wrong there..." Baptiste stroked his chin thoughtfully "I had similar doubts. Vaswani, too.."

Niran visibly perked up. "Come again?"

"Plus, to be fair, she only joined us because Vishkar had painted a target on her back for Talon," Baptiste went on.

"Vaswani as in Satya Vaswani?" Niran was leaning forward.

"And it could be very well that we're pissing off Talon even more by having her here," Baptiste mused.

"Satya Vaswani is in Overwatch."

"She's dug out a niche for herself," Baptiste said vaguely.

Niran's mouth quirked off to one side and his eyes narrowed. "I see what you're doing," he said, leaning back in his seat.

"Mm?" Baptiste was sipping his water.

"I think you should know, if my friends jump off a cliff, I don't jump off right after them," said Niran, raising his chin.

"No, you strike me as the first person jumping off," Baptiste smiled.

Niran gave him a shrewd look, then. Up until now, Niran's glances had had an almost overwhelming warmth to them, but here was the problem solver, here was the evaluator, here was the architech.

"For what it's worth, I'm there, too--- it would be a lot easier to coordinate our next date. That is, unless, your plan is just to run into me by chance, again."

"...or you could join me," Niran mused.

"Now who's moving fast for the first date?"

"Well it seems to me you did pretty well for yourself with the whole 'globetrotting' thing," said Niran, "Maybe you'd be interested in something more... fluid."

"I thought--" Baptiste started but was cut off.

"Portobello and radish cakes?" The waiter had returned with a tray.

"Oh! Beautiful! Thank you," Niran exclaimed as pale radish cakes lazily resting on a bed of vividly purple endive leaves and garnished with nasturtium flowers, with a small hill of forbidden rice itself topped with a violet. Baptiste's own plate was arranged in the kind of typical 'steakhouse' arrangement, with the portobello flanked by a parsnip puree, a small green salad, and a cleverly hollowed out parsnip standing at attention and stuffed with minced maitake in a way reminiscent to the bone marrow in pot-au-feu. Baptiste cut into the portobello and took a bite. He kept his bites and cuts slow. He was used to just kind of stuffing his face to keep himself going, it was a rare treat to eat something that had clearly been so carefully prepared.

"Merci," Baptiste gave a nod to the waiter who briskly headed off. There was a brief minute and a half filled only with the careful muted scrapes of forks on plates and quiet 'Mm's.' Plant based or not, Baptiste hadn't had anything this nice in months, maybe years even. His eyes flicked across the table to Niran who was first trying everything out individually, following bites with wine or clearing his palette with water, then he was experimenting with different combinations of the rice and endive or radish. So much of the time with Overwatch, 'eating' was just jamming in the necessary calories to make it to the next mission. You had chatting and jokes and a certain degree of camaraderie, but the food wasn't nearly this good and most of the time there was a conscious knowledge of this mission or that bit of Watchpoint maintenance and what parts of his equipment needed calibrating before the next mission. He honestly couldn't recall the last time a meal had felt this intimate, had had this kind of emphasis on the sensory.

"You were saying...?" Niran goaded.

"I thought I was," Baptiste conceded, taking another bite, "But... you tend to figure out pretty quickly that the 'one man war' thing is more about you than it is about stopping whatever you're fighting against."

Niran considered this, glancing off and taking another slow sip of his wine. "And I take it you had intel that was valuable to them, as well?"

"I did," Baptiste huffed, "Look, the way I see it is this: When Overwatch was first formed in the Crisis, it was about pooling resources and cleaning up logistics because so much destruction was being done, there was no way for the traditional governmental and military channels to keep up with it and respond to it. All the buzz about 'heroes'--that was propaganda. It was necessary propaganda to keep people from panicking and keeping from further complicating relief efforts. But it was still effective. Hell, it made me want to join, as a kid. But the current Overwatch I think is a lot closer to that initial framework, they just aren't in a position to propagandize themselves, nor do they really want to because—I'm killing the vibe, aren't I?"

"A little," Niran sipped his wine and gave him a catlike smile, "How many people have you hit with the sales pitch?"

"You're the first, actually," Baptiste laughed a bit nervously.

"I'm shocked," said Niran, clearly not shocked.

"For what it's worth I did tell myself I was going to try to relax tonight," he paused, "But... I do also want to see you again, and I would prefer if you did not get murdered by Talon or captured and lobotomized by Vishkar before then, so..."

"You really know how to charm a man, don't you?" said Niran.

"Well I don't see the point in pretending we don't live the lifestyle we do," Baptiste shrugged.

"It's good for getting under their skin," Niran leaned forward, "Nothing drives your enemies crazy like making them believe you don't think about them at all."

"I am not interested in making anyone crazier than they already are," Baptiste chuckled.

"Ooh—Toxic exes?" Niran set his wine glass down on the table.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Baptiste sipped his own glass.

"Usually that means 'yes,'" Niran gave a slight raise of his eyebrows, "You know, I think I like not being the only heartbreaker on this date."

"You like drama?"

"Only in the nosy, obnoxious sense that most people like their drama. But... I do think you see more of people's true selves when everything's a bit off-kilter."

"Well, if I was still making the sales pitch, this is where I'd say you'd like my team, then."

Niran scoff laughed before pushing his plate forward. "Here, have a bite of this."

"You sure?"

"That's the whole point of ordering different things at a restaurant. Which means I get to take some of yours."

Baptiste snorted. "Fine."

They exchanged bites, Baptiste carefully sectioning off a bit of radish cake and a small amount of the forbidden rice, the now-wilting endive that had lost a bit of its bitterness. It was complex, artful, and well balanced. He honestly preferred his own order since it was a bit more savory, but he could definitely see the appeal. But Niran grunted from the other side of the table.

"Dammit, you win," he muttered.

"It was a competition!?" Baptiste sputtered out a laugh.

"It's always a competition!" He huffed, "I hate the phrase 'portobello steak' it's fungus. Like fungi are miraculous on their own! Why jump through hoops to make them more meat-like!? And I hate that it's good."

"I think they just use the 'steak' phrasing to win the carnivores over," Baptiste snorted. "But I'd say they jumped through the right hoops if I won."

"Well if it won one carnivore over..." Niran smiled.

They ordered dessert, Niran tried to float the idea of lying to the waiter about it being Baptiste's birthday but Baptiste backed down. They talked more. They took turns taking bites from a coconut rice pudding brulée with a passionfruit reduction. Baptiste liked watching the bow of Niran's mouth as he nibbled on the mint leaf garnish. Niran talked about his siblings. His older sister who had more or less cut things off with him with the ultimatum of 'until he got his shit together', his younger brother who he was still in contact with whom he admitted he was probably a bad influence on. Baptiste didn't really have siblings to speak of, but he found himself talking a lot about Rosaline and the clinic.

"...I'd like to see it," Niran said, topping off both their glasses with the last dregs of wine from the decanter.

"What, the clinic? It's... not really impressive."

"It's not about 'impressive.' It means something to you," Niran was flushed at this point, "I always push the artist shit--the individualist shit--because I've disappointed so many people that the only standard I can really hold myself to is my own. But you have people. You have a community...." he stroked a finger along his eyebrow, "God, we're going to get back to the sales pitch, aren't we?"

"I wasn't going to say anything..." Baptiste felt a loose and easy warmth from the wine himself.

"...I just don't want to let more people down," Niran said quietly.

This sobered Baptiste somewhat. "Hey," he said "You... made something brilliant. So brilliant, in fact, there are lot of people who want you dead. And you believe in things--things bigger than what a lot of people want for you. And those two things together... that's lonely."

Niran made a short little "Hm" sound.

"I'm not going to push the sales pitch," Baptiste put both hands up, "But... I am going to say, you should be around people who care as much as you do. If that's not with my team, that's fine. But I do think you should look for it."

"...but your team has Satya," the wine was clearly hitting Niran at this point.

"My team does indeed have Satya," Baptiste confirmed, watching Niran drain the last of his glass. He knocked his own back in solidarity.

"I need to annoy her again," Niran was glancing off.

"Don't worry, I assure you, we all annoy her plenty."

"Well that I just might make time in my busy schedule to see," said Niran, "To make sure you're all doing it right, of course."

"Of course," said Baptiste.

True to his word, Niran covered the bill, but Baptiste insisted on the tip. There was a brief, less-than-sober apology to Tatienne over any misunderstanding considering the dinner, and she was absolutely saintly through it (and likely just desperate to end her shift at that point). Baptiste and Niran walked together through the city streets in a kind of easy silence, both suspended in that moment when the night was still full of promise and just as easily carried the potential for disaster.

We could go dancing, Baptiste wanted to say, And drink more, and maybe there would be some drama with someone else drunk at the club and one of us would end up crying and then neither of us would want to really text the other back after that mess.

We could sneak into a gallery showing, Niran wanted to say, And ask each other which is our favorite, and watch what is basically a weird bloodstained striptease behind a white tarp while someone sobs and rants in Spanish and clap bewilderedly and then steal a whole bottle of champagne, and run off to a park, and watch the sun rise like in that old movie and then become confronted with the horror that is our continued presence in the morning.

But instead they both ambled to the edge of the harbor and looked out, listening to the dark rush of the waves below.

"This is... my pickup point," Baptiste said, as he leaned against the guardrail, "If you want you could stick around, catch a ride, I'm sure Oxton would be happy to drop you off anywhere. Or you could..."

"...Come back to your place?" Niran arched an eyebrow.

"Maybe I could continue the sales pitch," Baptiste shrugged.

"I say this to a lot of salesmen, but I mean it this time: You've given me a lot to think about," said Niran. He paused, "And..." he seemed like he was about to say something more, but he just forced a chuckle. "Yeah. A lot to think about."

The lap of waves was suddenly drowned out by a resonant 'vmmmmm' and both of them looked out over the water to see the Overwatch dropship approaching. Baptiste and Niran looked back at each other.

"Punctual bunch, aren't you?" Niran was smiling, but his brow was crinkled.

"Yeah..." Baptiste's voice trailed away from him and he looked back at Niran. They had to say goodbye now, and despite years of basically earning a blackbelt in avoiding discomfort, he had no idea how to do it.

Hug? Kiss? For the love of god, Baptiste do not shake his hand-- his mind was a fog of indecision but Niran stooped and gently kissed his temple and brushed some fingers behind his ear.

"Don't be a stranger, Augustin, hm?" his fingers trailed down the side of Baptiste's jawline.

"I was about to say the same thing," said Baptiste.

"No you weren't," said Niran.

"Well I am now," said Baptiste.

And with that, he ascended into the dropship.

Niran was just a shrinking little spot of blue and ivory and gold below as the dropship pulled away. Baptiste slumped his head back into the dropship seat with a huff.

"Y'know... if you two wanted to get a hotel, you only needed to send a text--"

"It's not that simple--" Baptiste cut her off but then caught himself. He craned his neck to catch Tracer in the dropship's rearview mirror. "I don't--You didn't let me do this because you wanted to recruit him, right?"

"No!" Tracer said on reflex, "I mean, would we want him on the team? Sure! But... it's about you, Baptiste. I'm just glad you took a whole bloody night for yourself, really!"

There was a pause between them.

"You didn't try to recruit him, did y--?" Tracer started.

"I wasn't thinking about the team! He just seems to be doing this hippie thing and I don't want to worry about him!" Baptiste blurted out.

Tracer snorted. "You're adorable."

Baptiste just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Oi--what's that on your ear?" Tracer's head swung around from the pilot's seat.

"Eh--?" Baptiste felt at his ear, his fingers touched on a slightly smooth and warm mass, and he pulled away a pale pink orchid of biolight that had been perched upon his ear. He blinked a few times and then flinched as the orchid dissolved into a tesselation of pink-white sparkles.

"Wow..." Tracer said a bit breathlessly, "You realize you can't not call him back now, right?"

"I wasn't going to not call him back!" said Baptiste, frustrated.

"Good to know," said Tracer, settling into the pilot's seat, "Wouldn't want you to be a heartbreaker, would we?"

#bapweaver #jean baptiste augustin #lifeweaver #overwatch #overwatch fanfic

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ikeromantic · 1 year ago

Text

Alice in College pt 1

An IkeRev Central characters AU! Written for my IkeRev 1K Celebration, a boarding school AU was the poll winner. Approx. 2700 words. 1/6

On Being the New Kid and Other Horrors

Alice looked up at the soaring towers of Cradle College, her neck tilted back uncomfortably. They were impossibly tall, and looked needle thin. Pennants fluttered atop them, their colors too distant to determine against the steely gray of the sky. The clouds above were heavy with the threat of a coming storm. “Figures,” she sighed.

There was nothing for it but to go in. She knocked once at the large, wooden entry. A smaller door set into the giant gate swung open. “There you are.” The voice that came from the shadowed threshold was warm and gentle. A moment later, Alice had a face to go with the voice as a young, bespectacled man stepped out. “I’m Blanc Lapin. And you must be our new Alice.”

“Yes, Mr. Lapin.” Alice felt flustered under his rose-gold gaze. He was beautiful in an almost fragile way, with his pale hair and complexion, thin frame, and elegant hands. She found it hard not to stare, and when she did, iIt felt as if he saw right into her heart. His playful smile and wise eyes said they knew every thought she had as she climbed the steps to meet him.

“Please, call me Blanc.” He took her hands in his and gently squeezed them. “Welcome to Cradle.”

Alice let herself be led inside.

The courtyard was old, overgrown with thick, verdant vines. Ivy and roses over crumbling statues, arches, and stone walls. She didn’t have time to really look at any of it as Blanc set a fast pace. He opened the door for her and shepherded her into the entry hall. Alice had just enough time to gawp at the floating crystal chandelier above them before she was herded into another room.

“Here we are.” Blanc came to a sudden stop, and Alice nearly collided with him. “You’ve arrived just in time for afternoon tea.” He smiled at her wistfully. “Go ahead and grab a tray. You’ll find the food here is quite good. I recommend the carrot cake.”

“The . . . carrot cake?” Alice blinked at him.

“Yes. Though the strawberry and caramel creme are also very good.”

“Stop flirting with the new kid. Nobody wants to see that.” A child’s high-pitched voice interrupted before Alice could say anything else.

She turned to see a small boy with a ridiculous top hat marching toward them. His green jacket and matching bowtie were pressed and formal and far fancier than the simple blue dress and white pinafore Alice wore. The boy looked much too young for college, she thought.

“Oliver, did you come to introduce yourself?” Blanc smiled at him with the same gentle expression he’d show Alice.

“No.” Oliver crossed his arms.

Alice wasn’t sure how to react, but Blanc was giving her an encouraging look so she took a breath and held out her hand. “Hi, Oliver. I’m Alice. It’s, um, nice to meet you?” She hadn’t meant it to sound like a question but his frown and lowered brows made her uncertain it was nice.

“Wonderful.” Blanc put his gloved hands together. “I’m afraid I have somewhere else to be, but it looks like you’re getting along just fine.” He gave Alice one last smile and then left.

She stood there awkwardly, glancing between Blanc’ retreating form and Oliver’s bored expression.

“Ugh. Come on.” Oliver rolled his eyes and turned on his heel.

Alice reluctantly followed after. “So. You must be pretty smart to be in college already, hm? What are you studying?”

“Don’t patronize me. I’m not some stupid kid.”

“Oh. Ok. I - I didn’t mean to?” She took a breath. Clearly the kid was touchy about his age. She didn’t try to make any more small talk as he led her to the snack table. There were pastries, savory and sweet, and a large samovar full of hot tea.

“Metaphysics.”

Alice was just reaching for a plate when Oliver spoke, and nearly dropped it in surprise.

He reached out, grabbing her hand to stabilize the plate. “Great. You’re clumsy too.” Oliver sighed. “Anyway, get what you want and then find somewhere to sit.” He let go of her and turned to go.

“Thanks?”

“Just try not to drop anything.” He took a step and then paused. “You can sit by us, if you want. Not that I care.” And with that, he left her alone.

Alice frowned after him for a moment. “No thanks,” she murmured. She didn’t think she could handle any more kid-sass. Not today anyway. She filled her plate, grabbed a mug of tea, and found an empty table.

The cafeteria looked like it was meant to house a lot more students than it currently did. Large, round wooden tables dotted the room, with six chairs at each. Only a few were occupied. No one looked over at her arrival, which was fine. It wasn’t her first time being ‘the new kid’ and it would take time to get to know people.

She picked up a strawberry pastry and took a bite. It was quite good. As good as anything the sweets shop she worked at in London might make. Alice finally started to relax as she sat there, sipping tea and people watching. Despite the magical nature of Cradle, the students here really weren’t that different than -

“You look so beautiful when you’re enjoying yourself.”

The voice caught Alice offguard and she spilt her tea on her skirt as she made a slight jump and turned towards it. Her eyes were met by a pair of wide, grey-blue eyes and a bright, friendly smile.

“Sorry, did I startle you princess?” He didn’t look sorry at all as he gave her a mischievous wink. “Here, let me help you with that. It’s my fault, afterall.” And then he knelt, leaning into her lap to dab at the spot of tea on her pinafore.

Alice felt completely tongue-tied, her face going instantly hot from the sudden, unexpected familiarity. She took a moment to find her voice again, though it was a little squeakier than she liked. “Who - who are you? What are you doing?”

He laughed warmly and tilted his head to look up at her. “Ah, there I go, jumping right in without even introducing myself. I’m Dalim, and it’s really a pleasure to meet you, Alice.”

She blinked at him uncertainly. He at least looked like he meant it, even if he was entirely too close for someone she just met. His hand was still resting on her leg beside the stain. “N-nice to meet you too. But. Could you . . .”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry about that. I suppose I just got a little carried away. I feel bad I just met you and already made a mess.” He drew his hand back slowly, the warmth of his palm stroking her through her skirt.

Alice wasn’t sure how to respond. People were just not this forward where she was from.

“You’re really freaking her out, Dalim. You should give it a rest. Don’t you have enough girlfriends already?” Another interruption, welcome this time.

She turned her head to see a pink-haired youth a step behind her chair. His shaggy bangs almost covered his oddly colored eyes, one scarlet and the other a tawny gold. He had on a hoodie with cat ears, and fitted t-shirt that said ‘Free Hugs’ in a bubbly yellow print.

He saw her looking at him and broke into a smile. “Hi Alice. I’m Loki. And I’m rescuing you from this guy, ok?”

“Ok?” Alice echoed him, which was apparently the wrong response because as soon as she spoke, Loki grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him toward the door.

“W-where are we- hey, what-” She tried to get her question out but before she managed, they were surrounded by a bright light and then she was standing someplace else entirely. The dining hall was gone, replaced by a small balcony on one of the school towers.

The wind here was cold and the rain felt like tiny needles on her exposed skin. She clutched the balcony railing, trying not to panic as the expanse of the school grounds spread out below her.

“This is one of my favorite places to escape to.” Loki’s lips brushed her ear as he spoke, and she felt his arms slide around her. “Here, you can lean against me if you’re cold.”

Alice gave him a withering look. She was tired of being teased and manhandled. “This is not a rescue. This is a kidnapping! I was perfectly fine. Enjoying pastries and some cute flirty guy. And now I’m freezing to death on a balcony while you try to - to -” She stopped her tirade as she saw his expression shift from glee to hurt.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his lips forming a perfect little pout.

She took a breath and got control of herself. “Look. Loki. It’s fine. I’m just really cold out here. And I wasn’t expecting this. Plus, I don’t know that I like being hugged when I’ve barely met someone.”

He considered for a moment and then nodded. “Alright. I’ll wait until we know each other better before I hug you again. Now come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”

Alice half feared he would magic them someplace else, but instead he turned around and opened a hidden door on the roof that led onto an upper floor of the school library. The walls here were lined with books from floor to ceiling. Magic crystal lamps hovered in the air over long tables, low-slung couches, and private reading booths.

After a moment, she located the ladder that led up to this level and clambered down. Her hands were so cold she had trouble holding on. Loki, on the other hand, looked none the worse for wear, other than being a little wet.

“This way,” he gestured for her to follow him through the maze of shelves and reading spots. Alice wasn’t sure she ought to trust him, but it was that or wander off on her own with no idea which direction to go.

Loki stopped at one of the private reading nooks, a big grin on his face. “Alice. Look,” he whispered.

She leaned forward to see what was in the nook and her eyes landed on a strange-looking man. He had dark hair and wore some sort of small, metal mask. His visible eye was closed in sleep, head resting on a huge, open tome. “Loki. He’s sleeping. Let’s leave him be.”

“Nah.” Loki gave her a wink and then pulled a feather from thin air. He reached forward to tickle the sleeping man’s nose.

Alice grabbed at the feather, but missed as he pulled it out of reach. She swiped at it again as he wiggled it toward the peaceful face of the sleeper. As Loki yanked it away again, she lost her balance and tumbled straight onto the man.

He didn’t yell or jerk awake. His eye opened quickly though, and slid to the side, taking in the woman now draped on top of him. In a strained, quiet voice he spoke. “Could you. Please. Get off of me?”

“Sorry. I - I fell. And. Um.” She pulled back and stood straight, flushed to the roots of her hair with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to. You see. Loki - he -” she pointed to him and found the spot empty. In fact, the little pink-haired trouble maker was nowhere in sight.

“He got away.” The man sat up and ran a hand over his hair, trying to pat it into shape. He was failing spectacularly, as clumps stood straight up on the side that had been pressed to the book. “It’s fine.” He sighed. “He does this sort of thing.” He gave up on his hair and held out a hand. “I’m Harr.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Harr. I’m Alice.” She shook his hand. “Sorry I woke you like that.” She couldn’t help but notice he was blushing and wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Not your fault.” He took a breath. “Why are you soaking wet?” At her long-suffering sigh, he smiled. “Ah. Loki. Right. Well. Do you know where your room is? You should probably change out of those wet things.”

Alice shook her head. “I assume Blanc - Mr. Lapin - was going to show me, but, I think I’ve lost him completely.”

Harr stood. He was, she realized, very tall. Was he a teacher? A senior? She couldn’t say. “Let me show you.” He rummaged in his bag and took out a plain black notebook. He handed it to her. “This has a map of the school and another of the grounds. And you can take notes in it.”

“Oh, umm. Thank you. You really don’t need to -”

“I don’t need it. And you do.” He smiled and it was the first time he really looked directly at her. It was such a nice smile that she felt almost stunned by it’s sudden appearance. Then it was gone and he was walking away, his long legs taking him further from her with every step. “Come on,” he said over his shoulder.

She clutched her new notebook in hand and hurried after him, happy for a guide, even one as shy and mysterious as Harr. In fact, she was watching him so intently that she didn’t see the student about to step into her path until the moment they collided.

“You idiot! Watch where you’re going!” The dark figure she’d run into nearly spat the words as they stood up and straightened their clothes. Black hooded shirt, dark pants. Purple scarf. A strand of pale hair, and a pair of furious amber eyes. He bent down to pick up his books.

“I am so sorry! It was my fault entirely.” She set her notebook down to help him collect his things. It was a pretty big stack of books, notebooks, and loose paper. Tight, scrawling cursive covered nearly every page in tiny, chaotic lines of text.

“It was absolutely your fault.” He paused to get a good look at her. “You’re the new Alice.” He said the words with even more venom, surprising her into dropping what she’d picked up.

“Yeah. Sorry about that too, I guess,” she snapped.

He bent and picked up the rest of his things, snagging her notebook as well. “You should be.”

“Right. Hey - that’s mine though!”

He glanced down as she snagged the black notebook from his hand.

“Alice?” Harr had stopped a few meters ahead and turned back to check on her. His eyes widened. “Amon?”

The rude guy - Amon - frowned fiercely before hurrying away. He didn’t say anything as he left, but he did spare her one final glare before turning into another doorway.

“Who was that,” she asked Harr as she hurried to catch up to him again.

“Amon Jabberwok.” Harr paused before he went on. “You should be careful around him.”

“Why?” Alice tried for more information, but Harr clammed up and said little else as he practically jogged down the hall and down some stairs.

Alice was doubly glad she had a guide when she realized how ridiculously tangled the halls and stairways of the school were. Even with a map, she knew it would have taken her awhile to find her room.

“Your bags should be inside already.” Harr finally spoke up again. “When you’re cleaned up, you should speak to Dean and Blanc about your class schedule.” He gave her a nod and then turned to go.

“Wait!”

He stopped. “Did you need something else?”

“No. Just. Thanks. For the help and the - the notebook.”

Harr nodded. “You’ll need it. And . . . if you . . . have questions, I’ll be around.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll see you then.” And with that, she was alone. Alice opened her door and stepped into the quiet room. Her’s, until the end of the school year. It was pretty nice. Light blue curtains framed a window with a view on the courtyard, and her bed had a nice heavy quilt to chase away the winter chill. There was a small fireplace too, though the flames that danced inside were no normal fire. They threw a light purple glow over the room as they flickered between shades of white and violet.

Peace. And warm, dry clothes. Alice took a breath, realizing that college here was going to be nothing like London. Nothing at all.

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #ikerev au #ikerev blanc #ikerev Oliver #ikerev Dalim #ikerev Loki #ikerev Harr

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27dragons · 11 months ago

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New Year Countdown: Dec 22

Of all 32 fics I've written for this countdown (31 days of December plus one for Jan 1, and they're all written!) this one gave me the most trouble. Possibly because I consider "Smaller Without You" to be my definitive Stony soulmate AU? Anyway, have a different Stony Soulmate AU!

Dec 22 - Stony - Soulmates AU - Tinsel

Steve brought his wrapped gifts into the common room to put them under the tree, only to find it surrounded on all sides with stepladders. “What the hell?”

The elevator opened to reveal Tony carrying a stack of boxes nearly higher than he could see over. “Steve! I thought you’d gone skating with the others!”

“No, I had some things I wanted to get done here,” Steve said. “What’s with the ladders?”

“Oh! Well.” Tony put the boxes down. He plucked one off the top and turned it to show Steve. It contained, according to the writing, two thousand strands of silver tinsel. “It was sort of a tradition. The tree would go up right after Thanksgiving, and it was lovely of course. But then on Christmas Eve, my mom would put the tinsel on. It took her half the day - she practically hung every strand individually.” He smiled nostalgically. “When I was older, I got to help, but when I was very little, she’d do it while Jarvis took me out for the day, and when we got back, it was a magical transformation. When they all said they were going to go out skating today, I thought...” He shrugged.

“No, I get it. That’s sweet,” Steve said. “But the ladders?”

“Oh, that’s just so I don’t have to keep moving one around. My other idea was to use the suit, so--”

Steve was laughing. “No, don’t get the suit. You’re ridiculous, Tony, you know that?”

Tony grinned and rocked on his heels. “It’s part of my charm.”

“It’s part of something, anyway,” Steve snarked, ignoring the way his neck grew warm. “Why don’t I help you out, and then you won’t need quite so many ladders?” He folded two of the ladders and set them aside, which gave him enough space to tuck his presents for the team up under the tree’s branches.

“If you insist,” Tony said, handing a box of tinsel to Steve. “I thought you had things to get done, though.”

Steve opened the box and ran his fingers over the shimmering silver strands. “My ma’s tradition was to wait until I was out and then put the presents under the tree. She always swore Santa had come while I was gone, even after I was old enough to know better.”

“Is that why you always wait until the last minute to bring yours out?” Tony asked. “Huh. And here I thought you were just procrastinating with your shopping.”

“You ought to know me better than that,” Steve chided, smiling. “It’s surprisingly hard to find a time when no one is here.”

“Trying to out-stealth the Wonder Twins won’t go very well for you,” Tony warned with a chuckle, “but don’t worry, I won’t out you.”

Steve watched Tony hanging tinsel for a moment so he could match the pattern of it, then went to work. “I’m sorry I never met your mom,” he said after a few minutes. “She sounds like a great lady.”

“She had her faults,” Tony said, “but who doesn’t? I was in awe of her.”

“Anyone who could keep up with Howard had to be awe-worthy,” Steve agreed. “What color were their soulmarks?”

Tony paused. “They weren’t soulmates,” he said. “She was pretty sure the boy who would’ve been hers had died when they were both in school together. Dad never said if he suspected he’d met his, but his wrist was blank his whole life.”

“Oh. Is that why you’re so...”

Tony finished placing a few strands and then raised an eyebrow at him. “So what?”

Steve fought a blush. “You just don’t seem to mind that you haven’t found yours, yet.”

“Well,” Tony said lightly, “if they aren’t as amazing as Pepper, I’m not sure I want to find them. What about yours? Your wrist is still blank, too, but I don’t see you out on the dating scene.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m pretty sure mine died in the war.”

Tony huffed a little. “Well, that brought down the mood. Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right,” Steve said. He picked up another several strands of tinsel and carefully draped them where the tree’s lights would make them dance. “I’ve made my peace with it.”

“But you’re not interested in dating someone if there’s no chance they’ll turn out to be the one who colors your mark?”

Steve lost the fight with the blush, that time. “I didn’t say that. It’s just...”

“Just?” Tony was awfully close, suddenly.

Steve licked his lips, and watched as Tony’s eyes flicked down to his mouth, then back up.

It wasn’t the right moment. But it was never going to be the right moment, was it? This moment was the one Steve had. He took a breath. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

Steve leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against Tony’s mouth. “I don’t need a mark to know you’re the one for me.”

#my writing #countdown to 2024 #stony #soulmates au #of course immediately after they kiss they realize their soulmarks have colored in #but instead of a solid color #it looks like they're filled with strands of tinsel #i tried to write that big like 6 times and it always sucked #so you can just imagine it #lol

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pbandjesse · 2 months ago

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Well our appliances were not delivered today. Sad. The dryer is permanently out of stock. But good news, James was able to talk to a very helpful customer service woman and got us a different one, even price matched it to the original one. Even though this one was more expensive. So now we are getting them next Friday.

But I did not know for sure if the delivery was going to happen today. So I was just a little stressed about it when I woke up. When I woke up I was not going to get up right away. No need to. But then I heard a box truck outside and absolutely panicked and threw on clothes just in case. It was very stupid. I went downstairs and waited to see what they were delivering and it ended up being a bookcase for our neighbor. I would take a deep breath and text James to see what was up. And went to take a shower and brush my teeth and calm myself down.

I felt a lot better after the shower. It was nice to be clean. And honestly today was the best I have felt in forever. I didn't even take my medicine. I just felt fine. I was low energy for sure. But I wasn't sick and that just made my heart feel so light.

I would have some brioche and ice tea for breakfast. And took the animals outside. It was just a little drizzly out today and was humid but it was really nice having the door open. Even if it lets flies in. I just want the windows/door open all the time. I can't wait til we have a screen door. Hopefully soon. We paid for it! We are just waiting for the custom sized door to be made.

I would do a ton of knitting work today. I only have 4 cream color squares to finish (it was 7 at the begining of the day but I would make 3 throughout the day) . And I would work hard to sew all my other squares together. It's such a sweet little piece. I am still going to make a boarder but I love the checker.

I would also cut and measure all of the yarn for my temperature blanket for July. I attached the June rectangle as well. But cutting and making the yarn took forever. I would have worked on August too but I ran out of the color for 70s. I will probably go to the craft store to look tomorrow. But I'm not to worried. It'll get done.

I would have a little lunch. Watch some videos. Worked on knitting. Sewed sewed sewed. I would occasionally go outside to check on the animals. I was just having a chill day.

I made strawberry lemonade but it really needed more lemon and we only had powder lemon packets. Not the same. Maybe when I go to the store tomorrow I'll pick up some lemons too.

Celia would come over to hang out for a few hours at 130. It was nice to hang out with her. She would change out of her internship clothes once she got here. And we sat on the couch and talked. I worked on my knitting and sewing. It was a chill hang out.

Eventually I made us nachos and we played the frog detective game. The second chapter/sequel was much more involved. We got to decorate a notebook, which we took very seriously. And she narrated all of the speech bubbles, gave everyone accents and everything. It was a lot of fun.

When we finished the game, after having some candy and laughing and having a good time, I realized I was ridiculously tired and just be er fed to lay down. So Celia said she would head out. I'm really glad we got to hang out today.

I wouldnt actually sleep. But I would be horizontal and just rested my body. And soon James was home.

They were very sad. Some hockey players were biking and got hit by an aggressive drunk driver and died. Two brothers. The day before their sister's wedding. Horrible. An absolute tragedy. And they were really torn up about it. Especially because people have been very aggressive towards them lately on their bike. It sucks. People need to calm down, people are literally dying.

They would go upstairs to record an addendum to their podcast about the hockey players. Just to get their feelings out. I would just lay down on the couch. Eventually they would have showered and came and laid with me and held me which was really nice.

Eventually I moved upstairs. I took the kinesiology tape off that I've been wearing the last couple days and even though I was careful I still tore my skin a bit and it hurt. So after dinner (Mac and cheese), I took a bath and tried to carefully get the excess glue off and take care of my poor torn skin. Ouch.

Now me and James are in bed. We might watch more vampire show. But my head hurts a bit and I am very tired. But thankfully not woozy or nauseous.

Tomorrow I have the market. And I am hoping it's a good day. I hope you all have a good day. I love you all very much. Sleep well my friends. Goodnight!

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redheadspark · 2 years ago

Note

& here's the 2nd one!!

Christmas Prompt

21. Secret Santa

20. “Please don’t make me wear this, I look ridiculous.”

With Oliver

Happy Writing!! 🙂

A/N: I love this for Oliver! Thanks for the request, Stella!!

Sweater Weather

Summary: The Gryffindor Quidditch Team holds their Annual Secret Santa in the Common Room.

Warnings: Just some magical fluff :)

"Go on, George, it's your turn!"

George went over to grab the one present he was eyeing for some time, a small sized box that was nicely wrapped with a silver bow on the top. The Common Room was warmly lit from the fire, calming the bustling wind outside Gryffindor Tower that was bringing the cold front that was coming through. Thankfully, you and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had the whole Common Room to yourselves since most of the other students were down at the Great Hall and getting some extra studying in at the Library.

The Quidditch Team was holding a Secret Santa party, an annual tradition that has been going on for some time. Since it was the end of the season with only a few games left, it was a great break to have and to not worry about practice or the upcoming match against Ravenclaw.

Even your boyfriend and the Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood thought it was a good idea to have Secret Santa that Friday night.

"Wicked!" George said in glee as he took out a rare pair of Kaleidoscope glasses, the rest of the teams gasped and looked in wonder as he threw it on over his eyes. Instantly, the lenses were moving in a technicolor rhythm, almost in rotation and the view of his eyes twinkling behind the lense was almost magical.

"Those are rare!" Fred said with a hint of jealousy, George chuckled as he took off the glasses and handed them to his twin, "I've looked all over to these. How do you get them?!" "I think revealing the secret will loose the concept of Secret Santa, wouldn't it?" You asked back at Fred, seeing him stick his tongue out at you as Katie Bell was going next to get the gift under the Gryffindor decorated tree. You looked over at Oliver, whom was drinking a bit from his mug that was filled with Butterbeer before he eyed you and gave you a small wink.

Being able to see Oliver being languid and relaxed in this state was rare, most of the time he would be worried about the next match for a new set of practice routines that he made up. You loved him to death, but you almost knew he was a workaholic when it came to Quidditch. He worked hard in his schooling too, but it was nothing compared to his favorite sport. Sometimes you had to remind him to relax and take a break, which worked some times and other times his stubbornness would show.

Still, having those pockets of moments when he was calm, leaning back in peace, it was something you cherished and wished he would have all the time.

"Alright, you're up, Wood!" Oliver snorted as he got up to inspect under the tree to see what presents were left. He finally found a medium size present, walking back to his spot next to you on the scarlet couch. Everyone watched on amusement and intrigue as he was unwrapping the present with his nimble fingers. Once he opened the top and looked in, his eyes were raised in shock.

He took out a sweater, deep maroon in color with a snitch embroidered on the front.

"You gotta admit, it's a great sweater,"

"Come off it,"

You giggled as Oliver placed the sweater down on his lap while you grabbed a leftover Chocolate Frog on the end table next to the loveseat. The rest of the Common Room was deserted, only you and Oliver staying as the rest of the team went off to bed in their dorms.

Breaking the chocolate frog in half, you handed him one piece as you both were snuggling together as you took a massive bite from your chocolate.

"I think this year's Secret Santa was a huge success," You voiced to Oliver, "Everyone's gift was great, plus it wasn't like last year when we almost accidentally set the couch on fire,"

"George was so close to getting that armrest near the fire with his trick," Oliver snorted as he then reached into his pocket and pulled out a smaller gift, fitting in the palm of his hand as he handed it to you.

"Here's my Christmas gift to you," He explained, having you take it willingly and you started to unwrap it as he kept talking, "It's a bit more on the sentimental side and....and I figured you would like it,"

it was a pair of earrings: two small crimson gems that were nestled in the velvet pillows of the box. You grinned widely as you looked from the earrings to Oliver, seeing him look at you sheepishly to see your reaction.

"I didn't wanna give it to ya in front of the others since it was mostly meant only for ya," He said to you, "And I know they're ya birthstone, and you look good in red,"

You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, feeling him blush madly as you pull away and put in the earrings in front of him. Not a lot of people knew this gentler side of Oliver, which was not a bad thing since you mostly saw it yourself. He had a heart of gold, both on and off the field.

"You're far too sweet, Wood. Thank you," You thanked him, seeing him rub the back of his back with a hint of nervousness as you then moved your head around to show off your new earrings, "How do I look?"

"Very beautiful, and now you look extravagant with them on," He said to you coyly. You grabbed his sweater that was still perched in his lap, Oliver eyed you suspiciously as you gesture to the new garment.

"And if you wear this, we can match and look adorable!" You said to him, now Oliver glaring at you.

"Please don’t make me wear this, I look ridiculous.” He somewhat pleaded to you, "I can outrun you, you know,"

"Oh, can you?" You asked back, challenging him as Oliver glared. Within a second, he flew off the couch and bolted to the stairs, you were right behind him in a shriek of laughter as you had the sweater in hand.

The End.

Winter Prompts

#oliver wood x female reader #oliver wood prompts #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood #hp fanfic #harry potter writing #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom

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hanayori89 · 1 year ago

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Boundless

*Lake Hylia*

"Link, tell me about the Lakebed Temple." You watched the crackling of the flames as Link kindled them with more firewood. He had managed to turn the most disastrous day into such an unforgettable one. You sat cozily nestled in Lake Hylia Cavern. Link had first taken you to a whimsical looking place known as "Falbi's."

It had drawn your attention when you first entered. But with Aryn at your side, you didn't feel comfortable enough to explore. You couldn't contain your excitement when Link mentioned it being the first stop on your Lake Hylia tour.

It was a kaleidoscope of absurdly bright colors. You never saw such a decoupage of ridiculousness. At the same time, it held your eyes captive. It made you want to walk toward it. With the serene backdrop of Lake Hylia's azure waters, Falbi's was a vista of peculiarity. The owner was just as obscene.

"Link." You whispered with an apparent start in your voice. "He's missing half his shirt."

You could hear Link inhale beside you. You glanced sideways to see he was holding back a laugh. Once he composed himself, he responded," Falbi is a good person. He used to work in a circus. Now he and his partner Fyer manage the Water Top Land of Fantastication." Link caught the confusion sketched upon your features. He quickly added," A circus is a type of entertainment venue. You can see all kinds of animals. Clowns, such as Falbi, as well as other performances. "

"We have something similar in the twilight."

Link gave you a cautious glance. You couldn't help but light up with a wide grin. "We have people dress up in costume like Zant, and then we perform his demise. And yes, someone dresses up as you."

Link started to laugh. "I think that's not quite the same as a circus. Though knowing your realm, it's probably more of a circus than we have here. Just out of curiosity, who's the actor that plays me?"

"Her name is Fisa. She has your build and hair. Minus the red eyes and pale skin."

Link stopped abruptly. "She?"

You linked your arm around his and tugged him along. "I think you need to come see it sometime to understand." Link looked at your arm intertwined with his. You immediately realized your proximity and freed your arm from his. You tried to contain the threatening onslaught of heat about to hit your cheeks. "I'm sorry." You said coolly.

What had come over you? And why had you said Link should come to your realm? As if he could. "I feel I am being very touchy today. Forgive me. This is all so new to me."

Link gave your back a supportive rub. "It was a hard day for you. It's ok. If I could come to your realm, I would." He seemed to take notice of something on your back, wincing as he observed it. "Your dress was ripped. I know someone in Kakariko who can fix it."

The mood between you both quickly grew somber. The realization that you both weren't just divided by something as simple as an ocean. No, you were both divided by realms. You thought of Midna's lamentable voice echoing in the back of your mind. "We can never belong in their realm."

I seem to be doing a good job of assimilating.

Link gleefully chirped. "This is going to lift your spirits. I promise. Not to mention you won't get a better view of Lake Hylia than Falbi's."

"Partner! What brings you to Falbi's today?" A raucous voice greeted you as you made your way inside the whacky building.

Link took out 20 rupees and placed them in Falbi's palm. "This young lady is visiting Lake Hylia for the first time. Can we count on you to give us the grand flight-by-fowl?"

"Awwwwright! I'll lead the way! May I say, you snagged a beauty, partner!" Falbi gave a curtsy in your direction before nudging you to follow along.

He even had a peculiar gait to match his incomplete outfit. Link seemed to regard you carefully. His stare made you slightly uneasy, coaxing you to speak up. "What?"

"Y/N... you draw a lot of attention wherever you go. I don't want to impede your freedom. But I would feel better if you tried not to travel alone." Link shuffled beside you, looking at his feet. He was clearly uncomfortable by the conversation you were having.

"I'm not saying you have to just stay with me. Though I'd prefer to be the one by your side. But someone like Fado or Rusl. I can count on them. You can too."

You wanted to counter with some sort of defense. You realized that Link was right. Look at what the whole Aryn debacle caused. You also wondered how today's incident would impact Link and Ilia's relationship. Why would she be friends with someone so squalid? As you arrived at the summit of Falbi's, you walked toward the edge to take in the view. Instead of gasping at the scenic view of Lake Hylia's waters encompassing you, you gasped at something else.

Had Ilia sent Aryn? Had Ilia planned this whole horrid event? How could you even broach something so reproachful?

The altitude at which you stood made the cold air sting your lungs. Though it didn't sting as much as the undesirable thoughts looming over you.

"Y/N?"

You stared ahead, brushing Link off. Did he know who he was marrying? You did not come to the light for this. Do not focus anymore on this. You inhaled and followed it with a calming exhale. Link must have heard the staggered, deep breath that spilled out of you. He snuck up behind you.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Link questioned you sweetly. His voice always dripped out like the syrup he drenched your bread and apples in. This is the Hero of Twilight. He would never be part of such a devious farce. You thought of the way his eyes always regarded you with tenderness. Your intuitive radar told you without a shadow of a doubt that Link was not part of Ilia's plan.

Without a shadow of a doubt. The answers are always hiding in the shadows. You thought of Midna's question. You wondered if someone in the light could make sense of the answer better than you could.

"Link." You kept your gaze cast upon the sparkling ripples in the lake. "Did you know before I left, Midna gave me a homework assignment?"

Link snickered in amusement. "Sounds like Midna. What was the assignment?"

"Where does the truth lie? Within the shadows of the dark or the illumination of the light?" You surreptitiously looked Link's way to read his expression. His face was pensive as he looked out at Lake Hylia.

Instead of formulating an answer, he posed a question. "You've been in the light a few days now. Some part of me thinks you know the answer to Midna's assignment." He raised an eyebrow in your direction quizzically.

You took a moment before you proceeded with a response. " When the sun is out, I can faintly make out your Triforce. But under the light of the moon..." you paused, meeting Link's eyes. " Only under the light of the moon am I able to see it clearly."

A subtle smile lifted from the corners of Link's lips. "Not everything is as it appears in the light. We may be able to feel, but as you have witnessed, many of us don't show those feelings. They lie guarded within." Link used his hand to thud against where his heart would anatomically be located.

"Especially yours." You don't know what made you say it. Whenever you were near Link, it was like your lips had a mind of their own.

The beauty of Lake Hylia was long lost between you both. For the first time, you were becoming attuned to the beauty of something grander.

The beauty of being vulnerable.

Link could feel the warmth of the embers from the freshly kindled fire. Now that he had stoked the fire to his content, he took a seat across from Y/N. He was worried by Y/N's demeanor when they were at the top of Falbi's. He couldn't shake the way she had looked at him. The way in which she masterfully blurted, "Especially yours," in response to his guarded feelings. For someone who wasn't familiar with emotions, nobody had ever been so in tune with his.

After a moment of speculation in regard to Midna's assignment, it was time to take the plunge. He walked Y/N through what the flight-by-fowl really was. Her eyes shot open with panic. "We are flying with the cuccos?"

Link delivered her the most trustworthy smile he could. "Y/N... trust me. I would never let anything happen to you."

Her shoulders slumped as she became more subdued. Link grabbed a cucco by the feet, demonstrating what to do. As she selected a cucco worthy of the task, she gripped its' feet. "The important thing is to hold on securely but not crush the cucco's feet. On the count of three, we jump."

Link slightly bent his knees, the cucco flapping wildly above his head. He began to countdown. "One...Two..."

Y/N yelled, "Three!" Eagerly leaping off the ledge with her cucco.

"Y/N!" Link screamed. He plummeted below with his cucco. The endless lapping waves threatened to absorb them into its blue oblivion. The first part of the fall was always the scariest. Link couldn't lie; he was quite afraid his first time doing the flight-by-fowl. As the wind crushed against the weight of his body, he slammed his eyes shut so that he couldn't see his impending doom.

But doom never came. Instead, the cucco's ferocious flapping paid off. Before long, he began to soar. The cruel hand of the wind that was slapping against his body became the same hand that would carry him gracefully to his landing. Link opened his eyes to see Y/N. Her hair whipped savagely around her face. Finally, the wind permitted him to take a peek at her. She was laughing. Like he'd never seen her laugh. Engrossed in the way the blue of the sky bled into the blue of the lake. This is the light he wished for her to witness. The sheer feeling of anything being possible. Being boundless. Not burdened by the heaviness of emotions.

It was in the sky that Link realized he'd also lost sight of what the light was about. In fact, he never even knew. That was until he became a hero. When he began to explore and see the world. As he descended, his thoughts crashed back to reality along with his feet. He thought of Rusl.

He thought about the choice. The answer was always right there. He couldn't marry Ilia. He couldn't settle down in Ordon. He wasn't sure what the rest of his destiny entailed. But whatever it was, he felt he was closer to it when he roamed the expansive fields of Hyrule. He made a silent pact with himself then. He'd find a way to remove himself from this situation. He would find a solution that was just for everyone.

Y/N's bright e/c eyes peered at him through the crackling flames. "Link, tell me about the lakebed temple."

Now, as he sat, telling tales of his journey by the fire, it only confirmed what he already knew.

He vowed he would help Y/N find her place in this realm. For he too was looking for his own place to belong.

Was it wrong that he hoped the place they belonged to be the same?

That maybe they belonged together.

A/N: Edited 12/08/22

The water has a way of reflecting one's deepest emotions. As you wonder about the light and its' populace, someone else is doing some wondering of his own. Will both of your separate missions lead to the same ending?

Check out my other completed OOT Zelda work- No Woman Beyond

#legend of zelda #link #loz #fanfiction #link x reader #wattpad #romance #fanfic #twilight princess #twili #twilight #midna twilight princess #hyrule #the legend of zelda #fanfic on tumblr #action #adventure

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can-of-pringles · 1 year ago

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When I'm Alone with You - Chapter 1

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Word Count: 903

Summary: Now that Cardinal Copia had been promoted, he needed to work extra hard at his job and make the ministry and Sister proud. However he occasionally had trouble focusing, and it only got worse when he noticed a certain janitor working in the background.