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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years ago

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Before The Full Moon.

Werewolf! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: The night before a full moon always offered an abundance of fun, especially when you call your man ‘Alpha.’

WARNINGS!: Biting, oral (female receiving), horny asf Izuku, sex, sub!reader & dom!Izuku

Category: Smut

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Werewolf! Izuku is here! First out of three Halloween Au’s! I’m a bit rusty with my writing skills.. heh..

Just To Clarify:

Despite Reader calling Izuku ‘alpha,’ this is not ABO

Izuku always has his tail and wolf ears, he just hides them when in public or around reader earlier in the relationship

This takes place in the country in a forest town

Werewolves can shapeshift whenever, they just has no control over it on a full moon night

All characters are aged up

Reader and Izuku are living together but not married or engaged

Perm. Tag List

@coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia:

Having a werewolf as a boyfriend wasn’t nearly as bad as you originally thought it would be.

Granted, you were lucky enough to fall madly in love with a kind one, and not a bloodthirsty beast.

You had been dating the buff man covered in freckles and scars with an addiction to sweaters for a year and a half before actually finding out his little secret, having witnessed him morph into a ginormous wolf with thick, green and black fur under the blinding light of the full moon.

You had been frozen in fear, tripping over your own two feet as you stumbled back when his head snapped towards you.

The floor creaked with every step he took, the sheer weight of the wolf being enough to make a loud thump that only added to the terror and nausea bubbling up in your stomach. You had almost accepted your death once he towered over you, only to promptly flop down beside you, whining like a puppy as he placed his large head on your legs, eyes practically begging for you to not freak the fuck out.

He made himself as small, cute, and less threatening as possible.

Yeah.

It was a wild night.

Later, he introduced you to the world of werewolves, how they fit seamlessly into society.

“You can always tell someone is a werewolf based on if they smell like a wet dog in the rain, though!” He chirped happily, emerald eyes squeezing shut as he gave you that radiant smile that showed off his sharper than average canines that you had never noticed before despite locking lips on a regular basis.

It had been a year since then, and getting used to your boyfriend shapeshifting was no easy task. Hell, you still weren’t used to coming home to a huge ass dog in your living room on nights with the moon full, despite being fully aware of what was going to happen to him that evening.

He certainly wasn’t what you expected when the word ‘werewolf’ came to mind.

Wolf-like humans covered in fur are what you and most people pictured, standing up on two legs with a snout of a dog and a bushy tail, not… essentially a dire wolf.

Apparently, werewolves could turn whenever they pleased but had no control over themselves on the night of a full moon. Most weren’t vicious, but the few that were stirred up fear in the small communities with their legends rooted deep in the ground.

He even had a pack, friends he led who were as loyal as can be to him, just as he was.

Living in a small town surrounded by forests, trees with trunks thrice your size, he had shown you what it was like to be a werewolf, letting you cling to his fur for dear life as he ran through the greenery, dirt kicking up behind his large paws as his tongue lolled out, clearly joyful to hear you screech and hold on tighter whenever he jumped. The shit.

But werewolves.. were extremely territorial. It wasn’t often you’d hear about a wolf giving up territory without a bloody fight, and so it certainly wasn’t uncommon for your sweet Izuku to come home to you covered in bruises and scratches.

You’d always take care of him, wash his wounds and wrap them if necessary before smothering him in love that always made the tail he typically hid in loose shorts or pants when in public wag.

He was your big puppy, and you were, as embarrassing and thrilling as it was to admit, his mate.

Since he was technically an alpha, a title he wore proudly since he had fought to earn it, you’d occasionally refer to him as that, just to watch as his freckled cheeks light up, darkened eyes side-eyeing you as you giggled like a school girl.

His friends always teased him when you’d call him that in front of them, to which he shook his head at, only for him to absolutely wreck your insides once you got home, growling for you to call him it again.

It got under his skin in a good way, made it burn and sent shivers down his spine.

He loved it.

He loved being an alpha, being your alpha, and he was never going to let that go.

But there was.. one thing you found out pretty quickly about werewolves the night before a full moon.. Before you found out his secret, you would always wonder why he avoided you the days before, but now you understood why.

If only you had found out sooner, you could have helped him with his problem.

“(Y/N)..” He growled possessively against your sensitive neck, sending shivers down your spine as your legs tightened around his slim waist.

You were pressed against the wall in your shared apartments darkened hallway, the hunk of a man you were honored to call your own had you pressed snuggly against him.

“Izuku..” You whined, his hot, growing erection grinding against your clothed crotch. He nipped at your skin, making you gasp and tilt your head, giving him more room to lick, nibble, and suck, marking you as his own with each hickey, large or small. Each bite was sweetly kissed, his chest vibrating with glee with each little noise you made.

His jade eyes sparkled with lust as he gazed at you, making your belly burn and twist with excitement, panties growing even more wet.

His large hands went down to your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh just to draw a gasp from you.

Making sure you were secure against him, he pulled away from the wall, drawing a small shriek from you.

He chuckled, and if you weren’t as horny and desperate as you were to get the daylights fucked out of you, you would’ve scolded him.

His lips then smashed against your own, tongue invading your wet cavern and smiling when he heard your muffled moan. Lips met again and again in a hungry haze as he walked to your shared bedroom, your hips continuously grinding down on his cock making it hard to focus.

All he wanted to do was to bury himself deep in your tight, warm walls, make you his again and again and again so that all who were nearby could hear your cries of his name. You were his.

Reaching the large bed, you were promptly shoved onto the soft mattress, legs loosely hanging off his hips as he pulled away from you.

His hands instantly went to his shirt, practically tearing it off of himself before doing the same with your own.

He was delighted to see you with no bra, your nipples already so delightfully perky and cute.

You were in your pajamas, after all.

Your face was flushed, eyebrows pulled together, tugging him forward by the waistband of his gym shorts.

Diving down, he captured your lips in another heated kiss, shoving your own shorts down so he could grind himself against your core again. He could practically feel your wetness soaking his front, it was exhilarating to know he could turn you into putty so easily.

His tail tickled at your feet as it wagged, his ears standing up on top of his bushy head, listening to every ragged breath you let out and the light creak of the bed with every movement.

Pulling away, he nibbled at your lower lip, kissing down your chin, over your jawline, licking and nipping at the large marks he’d already left.

He could feel your heart hammering in your chest as he kissed down to your exposed left breast, its sound like a love song singing his name.

Rough, calloused fingers trailed up your body, scarred palms smoothing against your warm skin as he shamelessly felt up what was his.

Moving down, you whined at the lack of friction, only to whimper as his lips encased one of your nipples, tongue circling the flesh and teeth grazing over and pulling it. Your back arched off the bed, one hand fisting the pure white sheets below you as the other tangled itself in his green curls.

His thumb played with your other bud, pinching and rolling it, kneading at your soft flesh whilst sucking on the other one.

“Hah..! I-Izu..! Mm..” You enjoyed the rough treatment he gave you, finding pleasure in the smallest amount of pain as his sharpened canines touched your skin.

He pulled away with an audible pop, letting the cool night air hit your wet nipple, moving to give your other bud equal treatment with his addicting mouth.

He always was a boob man, their plushness and bounce always catching his attention. But yours.. my God he was devoted to yours. Sweet to the taste, so cute and such a beautiful canvas for him to paint a picture on, he couldn’t help but suck marks all over them, his own sanity slipping through his fingers as the night went on.

He could smell and feel how wet you were, smell how much you wanted him.

It thrilled him to the very bone, made it hard for him to give attention to his favorite girls.

Giving one final lick to your nipple, he finally moved down your burning body, sitting back on his knees on the floor, hooking his large, muscular arms dotted with freckles under your thighs just to yank you down to the end of the bed.

Your soaked panties were right in front of his face, legs dangling off his broad shoulders.

Kissing at your thigh, he pressed his nose against your clothed core, inhaling your scent deeply, making his tail wag and you cry out in embarrassment.

You were so cute, hiding behind your hands.

He adored it.

Impatiently, he ripped the flimsy material from your body, giving you no tome to protest as he dove straight into his sopping meal.

“H-hAH.!!” You cried, fingers pulling at his green curls as he eagerly began to lap at your pussy like a starving dog.

Your juices dripped down his chin and neck, but he couldnt give less of a fuck. You were delicious.

His pupils were blown wide, drinking in the sight of your arched back and parted mouth.

His tongue expertly licked at all your special spots, giving a broad lick over your pink labia, avoiding your clit just to have you buck desperately at his face.

Izuku Midoriya was a simple man.

When his mate cries out for more, sobbing his name, he gives them more.

Your hips bucked off the bed once the flat of his tongue ran over your twitching nub.

Finding it hard to please you with your hips going wild, he held them down to the bed, eagerly eating your cunt out, holding you to his face so you couldn’t move away.

The crickets chirping just outside the window above your bedframe were drowned out by the wet sounds echoing in the room from his sloppiness, you were too focused on the pleasure to even care.

“O-oh!! I-Izu!! Mm! Haa..aAAH!!”

His mouth felt like pure numbing magic, sucking on your clit like he did your tit felt like heaven. He moaned against your wet flesh, sending your head flying back into the mattress, belly tightening with that familiar burn.

You were close. So damn close.

And he knew it.

He knew you so well.

“I’m..!! Izuku, I-I’m so..!” Your legs were shaking like crazy, squeezing the bushy warm head between them as he made you feel like you were high on drugs with his mouth alone.

A particular rough lick at your clit sent you over the edge, screaming his name as your eyes fells shut, convulsing like you were possessed against his mouth.

He held you even closer to him, slurping up the mess you had made, sticking his tongue into your fluttering walls to lick you clean, savoring your addicting taste that drove him absolutely insane.

But he wasnt done.

Pulling away, strings of your cum mixed with his saliva stuck to his face for a moment before breaking. He watched as your clit twitched and throbbed, much like the neglected cock in his boxers.

Pulling one hand away from your hip, he slid two digits down your cunt, collecting left over juice to slicken them up before pressing at your entrance that seemed to begged for him already.

“P-please…” You weeped, finally looking down between your twitching legs just to be met with such a sexy sight.

His face was covered with your mess, pupils blown wide with a feral gleam to his usually warm eyes, it made your cunt squeeze around thin air.

Despite being the sweetest man you knew, he sure fucking knew how to drive you mad.

Typically, he would tease you, make you beg and beg for him to give you what you want, but his mind was far to foggy to truly even try.

He just wanted to break you in the sweetest way possible.

And so, he plunged his fingers inside you, groaning at how you sucked them in, barely giving you a second to adjust before he began thrusting them in and out of your pussy, dragging more and more moans from your throat as his thick fingers filled you up.

Curling them, he pressed against that spongey spot inside of you, “NGHHAH!! AaaAAhH!! Th-There! HaAh..!” His fingers clicked wet against your squishy walls, mouth coming back down to lick around your clit before flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

Your body felt like it was charged by electricity, zaps running down your thighs and up to your belly, shooting shocks at your perky nipples and down your back.

You couldn't help but grind against him, crying out for more and more, to which he was always eager to give.

Until..

He couldnt take it anymore.

His sanity finally snapped, and with an animalistic snarl nothing short of carnal that had you keening, he pulled his fingers from you, shoving you further up the bed, yanking his shorts and boxers down. You had a single second to soak in the image of his large member slapping against his toned abdomen and oozing with precum before you were flipped over, ass high in the air and face pressed down into the soft pillows.

“Mine.”He growled out, mounting you and plunging his thick cock deep into your squeezing walls. Eyes rolling back into your head, a scream of ecstasy and pain tore from your throat, legs instinctively spreading as he fucked into your little cunt.

He leaned down, pressing his warm chest against your back, nuzzling his chiseled yet rounded face into the crook of your neck as he thrusted in and out of your tight hole that constantly pulled him back in.

Saliva dribbled down your chin, jaw slack as you cried out into the night, “Alpha..!”

His hips stutter, fingernails digging into your flesh, sure to leave blemishes in the shape of crescent moons as the title registered in his delirious mind.

His tongue flopped out of his mouth, smiling and panting as his chest rumbled with desire as he pulled you impossibly closer, thrusting faster than you could even handle, tail wagging like a bullet behind him.

“Ha-aAAhH!!”

Slick poured down your thighs, the loud slapping of skin against skin and animalistic growls echoing around the room, bouncing off the walls and intensifying the sensation of your brain being turned to mush with how good you felt, how good he always made you feel.

“‘MmMMH! S-sO!! H-aaH!! NNHH!! So g-good!! Alpha!! Y-you fah… feel!! Mm!!”

It was hard to get a coherent sentence out as his thick cock filled you up again and again, rubbing and fucking at all your sensitive spots with expert precision, kissing at your cervix each time he bottomed out inside your dripping cunt.

“Mine.” Izuku breathed out roughly, spare hand burying itself between your legs spread wide for him, just so he could rub your puffy, twitching clit in a circle that drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Nn-! N-no! W-ait! It’s t-oo..!! Much!! Aa-aAaaAh!!

You quickly reached another mind blowing orgasm, head flinging back as stars exploded in your vision, his teeth digging into your throat making you nose dive off the edge of pure ecstasy.

Your pussy fluttered around his aching dick, squeezing him like a molten hot vice as you came on his cock, stomach feeling full as you squirted onto his tense thighs.

He didnt stop fucking in and out of you as you came undone, only adding to the extreme, overwhelming pleasure you felt, pins and needles dancing across your shocked skin making your head lob to the side as fat tears rolled down your flushed and sweating cheeks.

Suddenly, you were flipped onto your back, dick pulling from you momentarily with a wet pop, your thighs trembling like a newborn doe around him were shoved down to the bed, fully exposing your pretty pink, wet cunt before shoving himself back inside your warm heat.

“IZUKU—!”

You screamed his name, your own nails digging into the toned muscles of his back, scratching to ground yourself as his hips snapped into yours so roughly the bed banged concerningly loud against the wall.

The bed was squeaking so loudly you feared for a second it would break from the sheer force he was giving each time he slammed into your over-sensitive pussy.

“No!” He snarled into your ear, glaring at your blissed out face, “who am I?” His threatening tone made you shake like a leaf, only turning you on even more.

His nose was crinkled up as he growled at you, ears pressed to the back of his head,

“Y-you’re Iz- HAAAH!!! AAAH!! oOOH MY- F-FUCK!” His hips moved impossibly faster, stirring up your insides like day old soup on a burner.

It made your toes curl as incoherent babbles fled from your mouth, “ALPHA!”

He always loved it, being called Alpha.

“That’s right.!” He grunted, pulling back, he forced you to stare into his eyes blown wide with lust and gleaming in the silvery, angelic light of the moon pouring in from the open window,

“I’m your alpha.”

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quillandink333 · 4 years ago

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Courage

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Vampire!Link AU

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.2k

WARNINGS: blood and gore, near-death experiences, nudity

Summary: In defiance of his creator, Link risks his life over and over as he fights to protect Zelda’s, but then watches his world crumble as she does the same for him.

Masterlist

“Highness!”

An electric arrow flew at her from above. I deflected it in the nick of time, skidding against the rainforest’s damp soil.

The scaly eyes of the monster who’d fired lased into me, just like those of all the rest as they emerged and made themselves known. I hissed, outwitted. We were surrounded, having just walked into the clearing before the Spring of Courage, but we hadn’t been expecting company. And now, there was nowhere to take cover.

One of the unholy creatures leapt out at us from behind. We would’ve been done for if I hadn’t heard its approach in time. I drew my blade and dealt with it swiftly, but this battle was far from won.

The lizalfi were cunning, more so than they appeared. They’d blended in with their surroundings, only revealing themselves when we’d walked straight into the heart of their trap. They were nine, ten...twelve in number, half of them foot soldiers and the rest archers.

“Link...?”

“It’s alright,” I asserted, though I had to admit the validity of my statement was questionable at best. “Just stay close.”

My sword and shield clattered as they hit the ground. “Wait,” she stammered, “what are you—?”

I crouched down and closed my eyes. The image of my enemy’s blackening corpse strewn across the ground beneath me devoured my thoughts and claimed my focus.

Soon enough, my arms turned thin and leathery, my legs melted away, and the corners of my vision were blurred and bloody.

With my new wings, I soared high above the stone pillar.

The monster at its vertex jerked its head up.

I dove down. My body changed shape, and I landed feet-first on top of my victim, causing it to plummet to its doom.

I leapt to the ground, retrieving the sword and finishing it off with one final blow.

“Link—ahh!”

I turned. Time froze when I saw the princess backed up against a tree with two lizalfi closing in on her.

One grabbed her wrist between its claws. My throat clenched in anger.

Thinking quickly, I picked up the bow of the fallen archer and shot an electric arrow right into the nape of her attacker’s neck. It spasmed a few times, letting go of her before collapsing to the ground at her feet, dead.

The other turned its head. In response, I shot a second arrow through its eye socket and into its skull.

But when I reached for another arrow, my hand was seized, and I was pinned to the ground.

The princess screamed out my name as I wrestled with the enemy, but it had me immobilized. I could hear the pitter-patter of the others’ footsteps fast approaching, and saw countless shock arrows wizzing overhead. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t get the damned thing off me.

So I closed my eyes again.

The creature that had been holding me down squawked in confusion. I fluttered out of its grasp with ease. If I still had my face, I would’ve been smirking in triumph.

The archers were still firing away at me, but their aim was off by a mile as always. It was even harder to hit me now that I presented a much smaller and faster target.

Assessing the battle field, I counted three on foot and five ranged remaining. I spotted one try to pick up the sword, jumping back when its hand began to sizzle. I took this chance to shift back and reclaim my weapon.

It didn’t take me long from there to eliminate the three left on the ground. All the while, I was careful to keep Her Highness in my line of sight.

Until one of the archers shifted its aim from me to her.

I raced to her side at once. The arrow flew, and I blocked it with no more than half a second to spare.

Then one of them rushed at us, catching me off-guard.

I swung my sword out, and it leapt back.

I could’ve sworn I’d taken care of all the ones on foot. Could one of the archers have abandoned its post?

“Are you alright?”

The question caught me even more off-guard. “Yes, Princess,” I stuttered, trying to focus on fighting off my opponents. “Get to the spring.”

She nodded and made a break for the stone serpent’s mouth.

Then I heard a low grunt. Her footsteps halted.

Rising to its feet in front of her was none other than a towering, third-class moblin.

Another bolt just barely missed my ankle. It purged me of my paralysis, and I dodged it. I looked back just in time to see the brute raising its club above her.

“Zelda!”

She screamed and darted out of the way. I thanked Ganon for making these boorish behemoths as slow as they were.

“Keep running!” I ordered, blocking another lightning-fast attack. “Don’t look back!”

She was terrified. I heard it in the way she gasped for air as she fled. I should’ve known better than to give way to overconfidence. Now my grip was shaky, my movements frenzied, and I was starting to panic.

I advanced, but the spineless freak just kept leaping back miles out of reach. The three left with bows were still firing away at me. I shouted out in futile aggravation. I’d lost my shield some time ago while transforming, leaving my left side wide open. I could no longer see the princess, though I still heard her frantic footsteps, as well as her pursuer’s.

I had to get back up on my feet somehow, or else her blood truly would be on my hands this time.

I sprinted over to where a bow and quiver full of shock arrows were lying deserted. My opponent, after a moment of standing there in confusion, chased after me.

I turned and thrusted the tip of my blade through its open palm.

It screeched dramatically. This gave me an opening. I grasped it and slashed the creature’s throat open once and for all.

The loud rustling of palm leaves caught the attention of one of the archers.

Standing to the left of the spring’s entrance was the princess, frozen in fear. The black moblin was sluggishly approaching her from behind.

The lizalfos took aim. She gasped and turned around, but then came face-to-face with the pig-snouted giant.

Then she took even me by surprise and ducked between its legs.

The moblin stumbled. Then before it’d had the chance to recover, the archer let loose its arrow, which hit the beast right in its thigh. Lightning surged throughout its lanky form before it collapsed on its front.

I held my breath.

But it got back up again like nothing had happened. Of course that wouldn’t have been enough to kill it, as I had hoped. Soon, it turned back around and continued its dreaded hunt.

I’d missed my chance. “Damn it...” Now it was impossible for me to hit it with the projectiles at my feet, and I had the attention of all three archers back on me.

I picked up the bow and arrows and ran. There had to be some position that was ideal for shooting down the last of these fiends.

I maneuvered across the battlefield until all three of them were in view. They were farther away than I would’ve liked, but this would have to do. Besides, this way I was far enough that they wouldn’t be able to hit me with their inferior aim whilst I pierced their throats one after another.

Finally, the last one fell from its post and into the water below, vanquished.

“Ough!”

I spotted Her Highness, sprawled out on the staircase at the spring’s entrance. She must have tripped on her way down.

Time stopped, yet again, as the monster emerged from the shadows, poised to strike.

The defenceless princess didn’t so much as scream, merely watching her fate unfold in complete, mortal terror.

The beast swung its mace.

I nearly tripped myself as I leapt in front of her, parrying the death blow, but just barely.

The enemy staggered back. I charged forward.

My aim was true.

The blade cleaved clean through its torso, exiting out through its backside. Its thick, black ichor sprayed all over my arm when I took it out. The beast fell to the ancient pavement slowly and heavily, shaking the earth as it landed.

My chest was heaving violently. By the time I looked down, the gore staining the sword had already burned away. Arms shaking in exhaustion, I returned it to its sheath, wiping the sweat from my brow.

“Link...”

I swivelled when the princess’ frail voice called me. She hadn’t moved from her position on the steps, twisting at the waist to look up and face me. She seemed just as drained as I felt, if not more so. Other than that, though, she hadn’t sustained any serious injuries from what I could see. All she had were a few small scrapes and bruises here and there.

Then it hit me. The front of her white dress was sopping wet, and I’d been staring at her for well over a minute. I immediately averted my gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment crawl beneath my skin.

“What?” she worried. “What’s the matter?”

Without looking, I cleared my throat suggestively. When that evidently hadn’t gotten the message across, I muttered, “You’re drenched.”

“Ah...” She looked down, noticing the exposed state she was in. “I just...fell into the spring a couple of times,” she blushed. “You don’t have to look away, though. I-I trust you.”

There was that phrase again. That utterly ridiculous phrase that she’d been using with me for the past month or so.

Taking a deep breath, I reached out my hand to help her to her feet.

The few drops of sacred spring water left on her palm hissed softly as they made contact with my skin. I winced. The pain was small, but excruciating.

“Oh my Goddess,” she gasped, loosening her grasp on my hand and poring over it. A few small cracks had formed in my palm, from which a few wisps of smoke had risen. “I’m so sorry,” she deliberated. “Are you alright? Do you need—”

“I’m fine, Your Highness,” I interrupted, gripping her fingers gently in demonstration. She looked up at me, uncertainty lingering in her expression, then back at my hand.

My own gaze landed on her wrist. Through the intricate metalwork of her wristband, an array of three puncture wounds, each secreting thin threads of dark red, could be seen. The memory of the monster’s filthy talons penetrating her precious, delicate skin flashed through my mind’s eye.

I cursed quietly. Once again, my infernal hate had taken hold of me and obstructed my ability to fulfill my sworn duty to her. I’d tried to fight it, but it was inescapable. I bit my lip, swallowing back a sigh. The worst part of it all was how I now found myself struggling to tear my eyes away from the blood seeping out of her wounds, further proving that I was no different from the monsters from which I was trying my hardest to protect her.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked again, tone tender and brimming with warmth. I nodded; it was all I could bring myself to do.

It was not my place to listen in on her prayer. However it was difficult not to when she was such a short distance away. Tuning her out was quite the challenge, as soft-spoken as she tended to be during these rituals of hers. Besides, I couldn’t help but be intrigued.

The things she spoke to the Goddess about were shocking to me. I hadn’t the slightest clue about how formal or intimate one was expected to be when speaking with Her, but the princess seemed to have no qualms with confiding in Her just about anything. Once, during one of these pilgrimages, she’d even confessed to Her that I was in fact a day keese. It was likely that She’d already known this about me, but even so, if I’d ever been so obscenely foolhardy as to confess my betrayal of Lord Ganon to His own face, I would’ve been stricken down on the spot.

After a while, it became apparent to me that the princess had gone quiet. This was more than a little unsettling. I kept my back turned respectfully, but kept my ears trained just the same.

Splosh

My heart sank. I turned around, just in time to see her hand fall below the surface of the water.

I didn’t think twice before diving in after her.

The water penetrated my clothes the instant I stepped in. It went up to my knees. I couldn’t withhold my wail of blinding agony. My legs were like sandcastles, and the spring, a riptide.

It took every sliver of strength left in my body to reach the princess. By the time I had her safe in my arms, I could no longer feel my feet. There was no way I could get her back to dry land by carrying her. The one choice I had left was to hurl her unmoving form as far as I could and hope for the best. So, with a silent apology, that’s just what I did.

I was forced to crawl my way back to dry land; I no longer had the physical capacity to remain standing. To my immense relief, she was there on the concrete, safe and breathing.

Until now, I hadn’t had the chance to truly feel the searing pain consuming what remained of my body. My flesh was cracked and crumbling, and the water had soaked through each little crevice deep into my brittle constitution. If I wasn’t careful, my body would’ve lost any resemblance to a Hylian it had left.

When it had become strenuous to continue drawing breath, I realized I wasn’t long for this world. And yet, as I gazed upon the princess’ unmoving form whilst my surroundings faded to black, I smiled. At long last, I could bid farewell to this dastardly life of mine.

I awoke with a slight weight on my chest and a warm, bitter-sweet taste in my mouth. A series of coughs wracked my already broken body as the familiar liquid ran slowly down my throat. I opened my eyes.

“Link...?”

The face that greeted me was veiled in heavenly, golden light. I squinted. For a moment, I was certain I was looking straight into the eyes of an angel. Then my vision adjusted. Of course, I realized, no angel would ever shine half as brightly as she.

Her hand, planted firmly at the back of my head, encouraged it forward, until my lips sealed shakily around the weeping slit in her neck once again. As I drank obediently, I began wondering if she’d made the incision herself. Something about it felt sickeningly wrong. Even so, I was too numb, too fatigued, and too delirious to do anything about it.

I regained consciousness gradually, becoming more and more aware of our situation as she slid down my throat one swallow at a time. Her blood was like finely aged wine, pleasantly burning my insides as it went down. All the while, I could feel my body recovering its structure. The cracks and chips littering my skin dissolved one by one, and before long, my legs had pieced themselves back together. Now I could feel the cool mists of Faron, as well as the warmth of her bare flesh, clinging to my own.

It was around that time that I finally came to my senses. My tongue traced over the smooth edges of the lesion, making her tense up against me. I jerked back.

For the first time since waking, I was able to get a good look at her neck. The cut was fairly small, but the way it gaped and pulsed—staring back at me and perceiving each and every one of my innermost thoughts like the all-seeing eyes of our Father—forced me to look away. I could hear His petrifying voice even then.

I let my fearful gaze meander, coming across her and my clothes, which were still damp with spring water from the looks of it. Then my eyes landed on my sword, lying unsheathed on the pavement a few feet away. A corner of its blade was stained with crimson.

I shed a silent tear. “Why...?”

“‘Why?’” she rowed, teeth clenched, clearly in pain. “You wouldn’t have made it if I hadn’t done this! And yet...you’re still asking me why?”

I opened my mouth, but found myself speechless. No matter how much I wanted to just look her in the eyes and tell her everything that weighed on my mind, I couldn’t. What good would it do to resent her for this? It was already too late.

“How could you throw your life away like that?” she stabbed. “You knew your body couldn’t take it, surely.”

I risked another glance at her neck, watching as it gushed out rivers of blood with no sign of stopping. “I could ask the same of you.”

“Because I love you, Link!”

My eyes widened. I looked up at her, desperately clinging to the possibility that this was some kind of joke. “What...?”

“I love you.”

So I had heard her correctly. “No...” I muttered, gently shaking my head. “N-no, take it back.” My fingers clamped around her arm. “Please...”

“But it’s true,” she cried, voice breaking. “I think about you every moment I live and breathe, and I can’t bare the thought of losing you.” Her tone made it clear that this was no joke. “I would rather die.”

I’d thought I had felt the most pain I ever would’ve felt when I’d thrown myself into the spring moments ago. But the crushing anguish brought on by those words was so unfathomable that I never could’ve imagined it until now.

“Link...” She cupped my cheeks in her delicate palms. The way she looked at me, eyes glistening behind a watery film and voice barely above a whisper, was just another twist of the knife. “Why won’t you say anything?”

I choked, giving way to an unstoppable wave of tears and hysterical sobbing. “Because,” I whimpered pathetically, “I don’t deserve...‘love.’” I was crying into my hands as she lay across my bare front, shaking almost imperceptibly. “H-how could—how could someone such as I ever love you back...?”

As she began weeping freely into my shoulder, I felt another even greater surge of tears swell up and out of me. All I ever did was hurt her. It was made worse when I thought about how, even if I hadn’t been born the demon that I was, I still wouldn’t have had the chance to be with her. In the end, Lord Ganon would kill us all either way. Why had I even been created in the first place? What was the point in letting me learn what happiness was before forcefully tearing it out of my grasp?

I clutched onto her with all my might for no reason other than that she was there. She held me tighter.

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #link x zelda #zelda x link #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink ff #link pov #vampire au #day keese au #vampire!link au #day-keese!link au

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fictionkinfessions · 3 years ago

Note

kin au timelines..

well, i have a mershark timeline. which is incredibly odd but understandable! it's become my favorite though, even if i have such few memories from it. i enjoy being a sopping wet beast -#🐟🦈

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #🐟🦈#au canons #memories issue #mod party cat!

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bookwyrminspiration · 4 years ago

Text

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

Chapter 6: The Beasts

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: Sophie is beginning to question her own resolve to her cause, but she doesn’t have the time so think it over before a new threat emerges.

warnings: lighting storms and chaos, being trapped (not the main characters), swearing, intentional misuse of grammar for dramatic effect, let me know if there’s anything else /g

taglist: listed in the replies. let me know if you want to be added or removed!

This chapter feels chaotic to me but I promise there’s some good moments peppered throughout it. Also it was a lot of fun to write so hope you enjoy! And yes there is a cliffhanger. Like always.

ao3 link here or read beneath the cut

Brrrr.

The hollow echo of a creature sat itself down among the vines near what had to be its head, a thick snare of sticking foliage wrapping around its skull, down its neck. Empty, beaded black pits wide as its mouth distended, no sound emerging.

No.

They weren’t empty.

Terror. Absolute, fucking terror clawed its way down its face, enough to still her in place, hovering above it. Tremors shook its emaciated body, bones visible through grey flesh, tearing as it thrashed--to no avail.

Time became fluid, lucid, viscous, and Sophie couldn’t stop it as it dripped down from the trees, seconds ticking away as she sat there stood there froze.

No. Not again.

Desperately, she forced herself forward, swooping closer to the vines, able to move more freely with this new agility, this strange body full of great terror. This monster was...enormous grotesque painfully distended.

And entirely helpless.

“Okay okay okay,” she whispered, easing down, reaching out and making contact with the veins of thick vines, strung so tightly between the trees she could rest her full body weight upon them, slowly setting her feet down.

She crouched down, trying to ignore the stick against her skin, similar to that of your thighs on a leather chair in thick summer heat. The bucking and thrashing of that thing didn’t make it easy, sending tremors through the entire web of deadly vines, upsetting her balance.

Those empty white eyes watched as she slipped, tilting backwards, gasping as her hands flung out behind her, catching her. She breathed. Too close.

Brrrr.

The echo creature was just ahead, and it leapt directly onto the terror-struck monster, rubbing its face against the other--comforting. The erratic movements calmed, enough for Sophie to resume her crouched position, slowly making her way toward that creature’s head.

Wait. What the fuck am I doing?

She slowed, and it was as though she’d broken a trance. Everything pounded against her senses all at once, like she hadn't been awake and all the sudden she was living living burning alive.

The stagnant air filled with the stench of the vines and the creature assaulted her mind the old sweat against her skin like a film and coating every inch of her and she hadn’t showered in days and was wearing old clothes and hair tickled the back of her neck and her fingers were coated in sopping sticking wet from the foliage and she could feel the vibrations in the air and hear the movements of the grass and her own heart screaming in her chest.

Brrrr.

Breathe. She couldn’t freeze, not now--not again. She wouldn’t freeze again.

“Talk it through, Foster,” she said, holding tight to the vines. “You’re in the forest. There are vines everywhere--they’re all jumbled together around the trees. There’s a monster stuck in them--and you were led here by another creature. Why are you here? What are you doing? It stuck and--”

She paused. Something...caught. In her mind. The monster was stuck.

The little echo had found her and brought her here.

“You want my help, don’t you,” she whispered, momentarily too awed by the intelligence of this tiny creature to comprehend the request. The moment didn’t last.

Her tongue soured, and the shudder of revulsion that spiked it way down her vertebrae had the wings shivering. No no no no no. Why had she done this. Why did she follow the echo? Why why why did she never think things through and why why why was she sitting here in these vines and why why why was it staring at her like that.

She’d never seen eyes so dark before, deepened by the dimmed light, the myriad of vines reaching above them, devouring the sun.

Vines coiled around its face, reaching down it’s rib cage, branching out along its upper limbs, thick bundles of muscles ending in--it had wings too.

Angry red veins pulsing bulging bursting beneath its skin reaching up out down around branching across those membranes growing maiming spreading from its back. She stopped. She couldn’t think.

All she could do was sit there, look, unhearing of its silent screams as her eyes remained fixed on those wings.

No.

Not again.

She wouldn’t do this again. Sophie pushed herself forward, fists clenching, nails digging into her skin. She wouldn't do this again. She wouldn’t.

Gritting her teeth, she climbed through the vines, all those human years at play places coming in handy, dancing her way up to its head--its head alone was nearly the size of her entire torso, each dripping fang longer than her fingers as it snapped its teeth--she flinched.

No. It wasn’t snapping at her. It was trying to reach the vines.

“Think, Foster.” She wouldn’t freeze. Okay. Think it through.

The monster jerked, but she held tight to the vines, allowing her knees to absorb the shift. It’s neck. That was most pressing. At least, it was in people.

Thick ropes curled around its skull, snaking their way down its flesh--that was the most urgent.

Her body moved as if she’d already made the decision, nothing but clear adrenaline flooding her veins as she moved, barely noticing the ick coating her fingers as she made her way around the side of the head, reaching out and running her hands along its skin.

It jolted beneath her touch. “Shhh shh shh; I’m helping, dumbass,” she consoled, then paused.

“I'm...helping you.” Why? Why was she helping it? She shouldn’t--she really really shouldn’t. This horrible, despicable creature before her was suffering--good. She should be glad. Creatures just like this one had torn everything from her, wrenched it limb from limb and scattered the pieces in the wind of its own screams.

Just like this one.

Sophie should sit here and watch it wail and cry and hurt like it had hurt her, a twisted vengeance of some sort. Or she should turn around a leave, pretend she’d never been brought to this place and had never found it. Let it die.

Monsters just like this one killed her life. Were slowly killing this new one.

She should hate it for that. Curse it out and scream at the sky and watch it writhe and suffer. Didn’t it deserve it? Retribution for the suffering it brought to her family, to her?

Sophie exhaled.

This monster--it could have done any number of things. It could’ve been the very one to first break through the fields of Havenfield all those months ago. It could’ve been the one to tear Eternalia to its knees.

It could’ve been the one to devour the gnomes that built those homes.

Could’ve could’ve could’ve could’ve could’ve could’ve.

She’d never know.

Slowly, deliberately, she braced both hands on the creature, skin coarse against her fingertips in a way that made her nerves tingle, vaguely painful. Something something something burning through her veins; she closed her eyes. Inhaled.

She curled her fingers around the vines, slipping her hands beneath that tight suction, the viscous syrup clinging to its flesh.

“On purpose,” she whispered. “Oh purpose on purpose on purpose. I’m going to help you on purpose.”

And

she

pulled.

The vines stuck to her palms, grating and slipping and sticking all at once and it was burning her alive but she refused to freeze. She wouldn’t.

With a grotesque, wet pop the vine released, giving as easily as the crystal grate had burst when she’d first decided to run away from herself. Easier than he knew it should’ve been.

“You’re okay,” she whispered as the creature flinched. Carefully, she ran her fingers alongside the opening she’d created in that seal, vine ripping away from its skin. She followed it around, and the creatures pitch black eyes followed her as she moved around it, carefully untangling it.

It panted heavily against her skin, rancid air brushing her legs as she worked. Deliberately. Intentionally. She was choosing to help it.

Each touch sent shivers and goosebumps raving across her skin, but she wouldn’t freeze.

Slowly, each vine fell away, and the creature gained more and more mobility, but it still didn’t move. It did nothing until she stepped back, panting and sweaty, palms red from whatever substance coated these vines, pollen dusting her skin. She hadn’t showered in days.

Then it shifted. Slowly. Deliberately. Carefully crawling up the vines, maneuvering through the spaces and sending tremors through the foliage--Sophie tightened her grip.

Brrrr.

The echo followed it, glitching towards the open sky alongside it, rubbing affectionately against its side as they moved in tandem so so carefully.

Sophie tilted her head back, palm pressed against the stitch in her side as she watched them move further and further away.

Her eyesight could pick up the way each muscle moved beneath its skin as it worked its way up up up towards the sky, towards release.

She stood there and watched. The vines thinned enough that it began to spread its wings, flapping them slightly as it prepared for takeoff, the echo beside it moving so quickly too and fro in place it was like a hologram she couldn’t concentrate on.

Then it looked back.

They both did.

They looked at her and they saw her.

For a few, eternal moments, they saw each other.

And then they were gone.

And Sophie was here.

Burning.

On purpose.

Pollen crusted her bare feet, accumulating and redistributing itself who knew where with each step Sophie took. She could’ve flown home. The wings had cooperated twice now, maybe they’d do it a third.

But not yet.

She needed this time.

The time it took her to walk back, using the faint presence of her friends to guide her way home to them, tracking them subtly. Hopefully they didn’t know she was gone.

They were used to her being alone, but they’d become such a part of her that maybe they’d sense something was different. Different different different.

She blew lightly across her palms--to ease the burning. Her feet and hands and legs and arms were coated in whatever those vines secreted and it irritated her skin, turning it faintly red.

Quietly, the forest seemed to hum as she passed by, flowers curling and leaves shivering and the air buzzing with something heady. The foliage beneath her feet began to thin and reshape itself, flattening out into a path that wound its way through and under the trees--it seemed to be leading back to the gnomish village.

So she followed it, followed until the trees opened just enough for her to glimpse the faint edge of a wooden patio up in the canopy.

She was back.

And exhausted. Climbing up the trunks a second time seemed like so much work--how had they done it the first time?

There was too much too many all the time going on around in her mind, so she did the first thing she could think of.

She took flight.

It shouldn’t have been this natural, this effortless. They shouldn’t have worked alongside her so easily--they should be fighting her tooth and nail against her every wish. They weren’t supposed to act like a part of her.

But she coursed through the air, curling around and around in an almost perfect spiral upwards until that platform was moments away and her dirty feet made contact and the wings folded themselves neatly against her back and those dozen and dozens and dozens of feet had turned to seconds and it had been over before it began.

On purpose.

She’d saved that creature on purpose and had the bruises the itching the scratches to prove it.

Now what.

An unnaturally cold breeze brushed itself against her skin, and she closed her eyes. Now what? Right now her skin was coated in something icky; right now her friend was hurt and she didn’t know how to help him; right now her parents didn’t know where she was; right now she hadn’t showered in days; right now the sun was setting and the sky was burning itself alive.

Right now the world was filled with monsters.

She opened her eyes. A shower seemed like a good first step.

“Sophie! There you are!” Fuck. Marella nearly crashed into her with her impatience, Sophie throwing her hands out for balance. Marella’s tiny braids were frazzled around her face, nose scrunched with vague annoyance, the light squeeze she gave her arm betraying her affection.

“Sorry--do you need me?” If something had happened and she’d been gone she’d never forgive herself for--

“No.” Oh. That...she didn’t know how she felt about that. Marella had turned, starting to walk away, gesturing for her to follow. She made a face, though, shaking off her hands. “What is that? Where were you?”

Ah. The one question she was hoping not to answer. Fuck. “Not sure,” she ventured, choosing her words oh so carefully. “It does burn though--I should wash it off before it gets worse. There’s a lot of unkempt plants in the area--I guess with my luck I happened to run into the wrong ones.” She’d technically answered the questions, but she hadn’t given the information she was unwilling to face quite yet.

Marella laughed slightly, shaking her head as she moved with determination, choosing bridges to cross and houses to walk through with intention, faint laughter sounding up ahead.

Finally, they curved around a particularly large tree and everyone came into view. Dex leaning to Keefe alongside a flowered bench, bandages wrapped around his back; Fitz at their feet beside Linh who was speaking animatedly about something. Wylie had suspended a dull ball of light in the center of the group, emanating rich yellows and oranges and pinks like some kind of faux campfire.

“Lose a fight with the forest, Foster?” Keefe called out when he saw her, raising a brow in amusement.

“You could say that,” she answered, smiling back slightly. Tension drained from her muscles, providing enough relief that she momentarily didn’t notice the itching. Something about other people just being there made it so much easier to exist. She wasn’t the only thing to exist anymore.

Maruca snorted, walking into the area from a bridge on the opposite side of the platform they’d gathered on, Tam and Biana a few steps behind.

Sophie flushed slightly, smile turning to a full-on grin to try and hide it. She never should’ve walked away from these people. All the time alone in her own mind had created monsters that weren’t even there, fantasies to scream and run from when there were people right here who loved her and she loved back.

She briefly met Dex’s eye and he shrugged slightly--alright. He was alright right now. She didn’t press for details; he’d provide them if he wanted. Maybe that episode had just been a fluke, maybe he’d just get better and better with time.

“Seriously though, what happened to you,” Fitz asked, bewildered, looking her up and down. Sophie brushed some of the pollen off her arms, but it just smeared in that vine ick.

“I haven’t showered in days, Fitzroy, and the plants are mean.”

Linh leaned forward, an uncharacteristic grin slicing her face. “Here, let me help!”

“Help with wha--” Sophie asked, starting to move back.

A torrent of icy water blasted her from head to toe as Linh slammed her wrists together, fingers closing hypnotically until her hands formed a mock spout--aimed directly at Sophie.

It lasted for a few brief moments, absolutely soaking her all the way through. She was left standing, sputtering, dripping water onto the patio.

Linh was grinning, flushed and suppressing her laughter, as if embarrassed by her own joke. Keefe took one look at her, stilled with shock, and snapped his hand to his mouth--it didn’t do anything to mask the giggles. And he wasn’t the only one.

Biana laughed openly, Tam shaking his head with amusement right beside her.

“Hnnng thank you Linh,” she breathed, voiced unnaturally high from the overwhelming cold, shivering slightly. “I love you so much I just can’t believe how helpful you are. Really, uh, really appreciate that. O-oh” She braced her hands on her knees. “Cold water was uh--that was a choice. I’m so, I’m--really appreciate you.” The last syllable lasted a lot longer and a lot shakier than she meant for it to.

She gave a thumbs up as she stood, gently pulling the fabric of her shirt away from her skin as she did so, shaking it out a little. Now there were smiles all around the circle, everyone enjoying her comedic suffering.

“Want me--want me to--” Marella couldn’t even get the words out, trying to force her face into a neutral position of superiority as she raised a hand and snapped, sparks flying.

“Set me on fire? Go for it--sounds nice.”

Before she got the chance to, Linh reached out, drawing the water out of her clothes and hair, sending it floating around her in tiny dew drops, dispersing into the air.

Sophie shook herself off--as humorous as it had been, it had actually gotten rid of most of the substance and helped the burning. But it seemed it had been even better for morale.

She didn’t know what the atmosphere had been like before she’d arrived, but now there was an undeniable air of ease, a lightness. It reminded her of Keefe in a way, the effect he tried to achieve through his humor.

“Sorry,” Linh said, still smiling. “You just set it up so well. I had to.”

Sophie smiled back, lowering herself down to sit around the faux-fire--Linh had even cleared the water from the wood.

“It seemed like she could use it,” Dex mumbled, eliciting a few laughs that had Sophie flushing. Maruca shook her head slightly, smile tugging at her lips.

Now seemed like an excellent time to change the subject. “What’s everyone doing out here?” She’d just been brought here by Marella, she didn’t actually know what was going on. Which...wasn’t great if she was supposed to be the leader. Although everything was more of a group effort most of the time.

Biana stepped forward, sitting on the bench on the other side of Keefe, who put his arm on her shoulder and leaned against her like she was a counter. As she did so, she spoke. “Why not, you know? We can’t exactly go anywhere right now, and there’s no one to boss us around--so why not have a little fun!” She swatted at Keefe’s arm with annoyance, but he just stuck his tongue out at her. “Also, just a little check-in, see where everyone’s at--although I wasn’t expecting anyone to be fighting plants, much less losing to them.”

Had she lost, though? The question screeched painfully through her mind, catching her off guard. They’d made a mess of her, yes, but she’d technically gotten the creature out. Wasn’t that a victory? Or were they all losing, fooled by their own misguided wants that they tricked themselves into believing otherwise.

“I live to surprise.” She didn’t want to be thinking about it either way; she’d had enough moral quandaries to last at least the rest of the week. Propping her head against her hand, she surveyed the group. Chatting amongst themselves and sitting and existing peacefully--Biana was right. They didn’t have moments like this often. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d existed so carelessly.

Biana smiled at her, then turned away, attention caught by Tam as he leaned in to say something. She could hear it if she wanted, knew there was so much more to each of them than they'd ever have time to discover.

She didn’t. She tuned it out and let the moment be. Biana pushed lightly at his arm in mock annoyance, and Tam’s eyes caught the light of the fire, reflecting it back like a cat. Maruca flicked her fingers a few times, messing with the faux-fire in little spikes of flashing force fields. Marella leaned over, asking Wylie a question.

He nodded and the fire shifted colors, turning a rich magenta and melting into purples and blues and aquamarine and cycling through the whole spectrum of color, bathing all ten of them in faint rainbow light.

This is nice, Sophie thought, watching the colors play across her skin. A brief reprieve. A few moments stolen from time. A few moments where none of them worried about anything except for who could talk the loudest. A few moments where their world hadn’t ended and they weren’t so alone.

Where they were nothing but a group of teenagers enjoying each others’ company in the fading sunlight, content to stay with each other eternally.

Sophie’s eyes caught on a fraction of movement off in her peripherals and she blinked, trying to find it. Strange. She could’ve sworn there was something there. Something hollow and white staring at her, through her.

Then Fitz laughed and the moment was over.

This wouldn’t last, but it was nice to imagine it would.

“Did Linh show you what she did in that house near the outskirts?” Tam asked, walking beside her. The group had dispersed as the night got darker, Biana, Linh, Marella and Maruca disappearing somewhere; Fitz, Keefe, and Dex discussing something animatedly, Wylie straight-up vanishing--which left Sophie and Tam together.

Their arms were interlaced as they walked about, ensuring the other didn’t wander off somewhere. Despite his adeptness in the dark, Tam didn’t seem to be seeing very clearly.

He kept squinting, the shadows only thickening in his presence--luckily, there was enough moonlight that they could glean general awareness of the area.

“No, what did she do?” She grabbed his arm, pulling him along so he stopped straying to the edge of the bridge; she didn’t think he’d walk off it, but she also didn’t know how well he could see. Whatever had happened to his eyes, they way they reflected light, it had clearly affected his night vision. Not that she had the energy to think about that right now. Her head couldn’t take much more, she could feel it.

“Rerouted some of the old irrigation systems into a functioning shower system.”

“Ah. I see.” It seemed she was the dirtiest among them, everyone else changing clothes on a reasonable schedule and such. And they loved to bring it up.

He smirked at her slightly when she glanced back, amused suspicion written all over her face. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “You’re mentioning this because…” She raised her eyebrows at him and he gave a sort of half-laugh.

“Just thought you should know.”

She rolled her eyes, then looked out around the scenery. Fragrant flowers curled against the edges of the porches, leading into those quaint, decaying homes. She hadn’t been out this way before--then again, she’d spent the better part of the day untangling a monster from a snare of vines. But damn she’d love a shower. After this little moment, this calm, then she’d shower. Reset her mind and prepare to face herself in the morning.

Maybe even check her imparter.

Just the thought sent a pang of something so strong and repulsive through her gut she nearly stumbled. Accompanied by all the hairs raising on her arm, she couldn’t resist the urge to rub the sensation away, scouring her skin quickly, small poofs of pollen floating into the air.

Tam sneezed a few times. “Sorry,” she mumbled, trying to shake off the sensation.

He squeezed her arm, glancing around uneasily in a way that made her pause. “Do you feel that?”

“What?”

“That.”

Sophie glanced around, the unease oozing through her skin growing with each second, and the realization curdled her blood--this was not just her nerves.

Each pollen-coated hair on her arm raised, something deep, instinctual buzzing through her veins, wrapping its vice around her heart, squeezing squeezing squeezing her tight and lighting her cells into pyres, eating its way through her sanity.

Then the rain hit.

It descended like a sheet; it hadn’t been there, then it was everywhere. Droplets pelted her skin, the downpour so heavy she couldn’t see anything but the blurs of them falling in front of her face, could barely see Tam a foot away, arm still wrapped around hers.

Shit.

Petals and leaves whipped their way through the air, torn from their stems and trees, flailing about in the gusts. The bridge beneath them shuddered, their weight upon it the only thing holding it slightly steady--they had to move.

Sophie reached out blindly for a few steps, recalling those memories from a few moments ago when she could see the railings, and grabbed hold. She clung tight to the railing of the platform, other arm interlocked with Tam’s as they stared across the crossing paths of bridges waving and completely unstable in this torrent, barely able to see more than a dozen feet in front of their faces.

Rain mixed with the wind, chilling her to the bone as it whipped her hair back and forth, pelting those delicate wings at her back.

WHAT’S HAPPENING, several someones screamed, and Sophie winced, hand shooting to her temple to massage the ache forming there. She’d already been low energy, but--every few weeks or so, the strain of maintaining the mindbubble gave her a horrid headache; the more it was used the worse it got.

Everyone.

Everyone was talking. Yelling. Trying to find each other through the storm, shoving images of locations into the space to try and find each other. None of them could see through the rain--the rain that had fallen like a thick sheet, suddenly there all at once.

Cacophonies of Who started it and Can you feel that and Where are you and What’s happening and--

Quiet. Tam sent an aggressive streak of shadows alongside the scathing message, shocking the others enough to shut them up.

Thanks, Sophie and Fitz whispered as one, voices strained enough that an immediate wave of guilt washed over the others, detectable even in their minds.

Her head pounded, her neck scrunching up instinctively to try and force the feeling away. She needed to concentrate. Why did her head have to be such a bitch now? Each pulse of blood reverberated through her skull. She was so tired. She’d had such a long day, why couldn’t she just have a little break. A few hours where nothing went wrong.

Tam’s arm snaked its way around her back, drawing her closer to his side as she pressed her face in his shirt. The sudden humidity and change in air pressure hadn’t helped. Why was this affecting her so? What even was this?

Something prickled in the back of her mind--Linh. Linh was drawing her hands up towards the sky in a great sweeping arc, drawing the rain out of the air and suspending it above her, above all of them.

The incessant pelting against her skin stopped, the water drawn out of her clothes and hair, all of the moisture flattening out into a slightly curved circle, a lens held above them.

She’d blocked the rain.

Sophie turned her head, watching as Linh stood in the center of that circle, tiny droplets floating rhythmically to join the configuration. They could see again.

Linh turned, surveying them all, skin unnaturally alight, almost iridescent, dew drops coating her limbs and running down her arms. Why hadn’t she taken the water off herself?

The wind still whipped violently at her face, pollen dusting off her skin and scattering in the wind, Tam holding her tight as she massaged her temples. Everyone was scattered, but with their eyesight they could all see each other, all the panicked faces down to the dilated pupils.

Linh and Marella both stood in the center of her shield, the latter staring vacantly into the sky, an almost entranced look creeping over her face. The former was more stoic, seemed to see, no, sense something the rest of them could only imagine.

The fuck is happening right now, Maruca hissed, but quietly so as not to hurt Sophie and Fitz. Considerate. Sophie had to search for a moment before finding her off to her left, covering Wylie’s back with a cloak--the wings.

Fuck. The wings at her own back buzzed with a phantom pain--could the insect wings get wet? Would that damage them? Why did the thought frighten her so?

Some of her panic must’ve gotten through to the others, enough to pick up on the source.

Both Keefe and Fitz, the latter massaging his temples, took up a stance on either side of Biana, shielding her back despite Linh’s cover, and Tam shifted her so that none of the stray droplets tossed by the wind could hit her back.

There’s something up there, Marella whispered, voice too light too soft too steel. She drew everyone’s attention.

What do you mean? Sophie asked, but she received no response.

Marella? Multiple voices echoed throughout their minds, then out loud. She didn’t respond to any of them.

Sophie eyed the bridges between them--no way in hell were they going to be able to cross those. The vines were shredding themselves, stray flowers whipping about as the area self-destructed. A window somewhere behind her shattered, the sound of falling glass shocking her to her core.

Wait.

There was a shattered window in that room she’d claimed. What had broken it so thoroughly?

“Marella what are you--” someone screamed, and Sophie was snapped back to this horrid reality, Tam at her back, wind pelting her body, thoughts that weren’t hers clouding her mind.

Marella had crouched down--

“What the fuck,” she whispered. Tam inhaled sharply behind her, hands tightening on her arms.

Glowing. Each of Marella’s veins was luminescent beneath her skin, crawling beneath her flesh, lighting her up from the inside-out as she stared vacantly into the sky. You could trace the map of pulsing blood, everything leading back to the center of her chest, a concentration of light glimmering there.

That’s cool and all, Dex said, voice shaking. But what are you--

Lightning struck, ravenous thunder shuddering through the sky. Again. Again.

Shit. Lightning like that--they were literally in the trees, this was not a good place to be.

Something boomed high above.

The rain flickered.

It was gone for a brief moment, completely halted before it crashed down twice as hard a moment later. Everyone’s hands were pressed tight to their ears, the torrent of rain drops pelting to roofs, the platforms, the shield of water above absolutely deafening.

Yet...Linh and Marella stood in the center of them all, staring through the sky.

“I don’t like this!” Tam yelled by her ear. She agreed. But she didn’t know what this was. Much less how to stop it.

Another resounding boom came from overhead, halting the rain for a few seconds more.

Sophie watched as Marella’s head cocked, tension lining her muscles as she stayed crouched there, eyes half-lidded as she tuned into to some frequency far beyond her own understanding.

Brrrr.

The breath caught in her throat as Sophie froze, gaze whipping around, trying to find it--that little echo. She knew she’d heard it.

There.

Barely, across the clearing, she could see it for a moment. Watched as it glitched it’s way across the dilapidated roof of one of those gnomish houses, seemingly untouched by the downpour.

It made eye contact with her, those empty whites piercing her as it blinked once, then was gone.

Another flash of lightning struck, the hairs on her arm raising, dread coiling in the pit of her stomach. Goddammit. That echo was here again, but why? What did it want with her?

Wait, did that mean--

Sophie Foster wasn’t known for thinking. She was known for doing.

There was strength beyond her understanding lurking beneath her skin, ripping through those vines had taught her that much. Breaking the grate had taught her just how far it could go.

She flexed her biceps, jerking her arms out on either side, breaking Tam’s hold. He wouldn’t let her go any other way, she knew. And she loved him for it.

Using the adrenaline she’d generated, she rushed to the edge of the platform, there in an instant, everything around her so so so painfully slow as she did not think.

She jumped.

And the wings snapped open.

Clear, unadulterated determination spurred her forward, over those unstable bridges. Levitation too risky with this wind, walking an impossibility. They’d thought themselves stranded, unable to reach each other until the storm died down--no. They weren’t bound to human--or even elven--limitations anymore.

Rushing towards Linh and Marella, the center of that water shield, she aimed her trajectory upwards, all that practice from earlier today, weaving in and out of the trees giving her just enough knowledge on how this body worked to twist backwards in the air, face to the sky as she adjusted course.

The apex of that curved lens beckoned her, growing closer and closer as she aimed up up up.

Something snapped in the mindbubble, echoes and reverberations sounding out like something irreversible had broken.

She glanced down.

Marella took flight, Linh a moment behind.

Marella’s eyes shone with something ravenous, her movements unstable but forceful as she propelled herself after Sophie, the same determination written in the lines of her face. Linh rushed to meet them, swaying slightly in the wind.

And as a group, a unit, they burst through the top of that shield, shooting up up up into the sky, rain pelting their skin, Linh suspending it away from the delicate insect wings just in case, ever so considerate. And they charged.

Right into the center of the storm.

Sophie couldn’t hear the buzzing of the wings at her own back over the crackling lightning splitting the sky. She couldn’t hear the screaming in her head, a solid wall of power clamped around her, Linh, and Marella so thick not even Fitz would have a chance to get in.

Thunder rumbled through the sky so powerful so close so everywhere she could’ve sworn she could hear her bones crunching, her brain rocking, the nerves screaming in her body as the world reoriented itself, her body only a fleck of dust amongst the storm.

The others gasped alongside her, senses overwhelmed by the sheer force of the chaos.

What now?

Oh fuck what now?

What the hell is your plan, Foster! Marella ground out, teeth gritted. Her hands were clasped over her ears, trying to block out that deafening scream, nature’s fury.

Plan.

She was becoming woefully negligent when it came to planning.

That echo had shown up and suddenly she’d been flying through the trees not thinking anything through just living breathing doing on purpose on purpose on purpose. She’d seen the creature and thought maybe maybe maybe this was--

Something bellowed above them. Screeching deep and pained and hollow and angry and alive alive alive.

That wasn’t thunder, Linh said.

That was living breathing alive. There was something above them, something screaming it’s mind into this echoic sky.

Each passing heartbeat reminded her just how bad of an idea this was, just how much she hadn’t thought it through and now she’d dragged two of her friends alongside her into this chaos. Linh was holding another shield around them, water droplets pelting an invisible sphere and collecting, distorting the image beyond.

Lightning flashed, setting her eyes burning as the electricity sizzled and popped through the air, a continuous arc from one dense cloud to another.

Wait.

Marella surged from her stagnant hover, something inhuman in her face as her lip curled, eyes set solely on the origin of that lightning. That unnatural lightning.

“MARELLA--” Linh screamed, moving after her, tearing at the clouds the mist the storm with her hands, rending the world to shreds in an instant.

Linh

tore

the

sky

apart.

All the condensation clouding the sky shredding and dissipating, leaving everything else remarkably, unbearably clear.

Sophie could see everything. Linh just ahead, reaching desperately for Marella; Marella, wings on full display behind her, hypnotized by the beasts in the sky; the beasts--

No.

The wings at Marella’s back beat behind her, glistening red against the dark storm, scales crusting the thick muscles, leading out to taut membranes and wicked talons, scratching against the fabric of the night.

As they moved something swarmed beneath the surface, glowing hot beneath her skin.

No.

Marella continued her advance, eyes focused only on those beasts in the sky, like calling to like.

Lightning crackled against the scales of one, its teeth at the other's throat as electricity lit its eyes. Smoke curled from the mouth of the other, wings beating furiously as it scratched and clawed and bellowed.

Two dragons battled for dominance in the air.

And Marella was drawn to them, carried by blood-red dragon wings.

#that was fun #how's everyone doing after that #was kinda worried too much happened in one chapter when i wrote it but i've decided eh #why not #anyways feel free to scream about this in my asks #/g #I have many thoughts about the wings au all of the time #spectacular #i'll stop now but hopefully you enjoyed that as much as I did #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfic #kotlc fan fic #kotlc fanfiction #kotlc wings au #shattered upside down #shattered upside down chapter #do i need anymore tags or was that all of them?

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starkeristheendgame · 5 years ago

Note

College au prompt where Peter becomes good friends with a new kid on campus named Harry and invites him over one night to study and tony come home to Harry on peters bed while peter takes a shower and thinks the worst. (Peter and tony are roommates btw) and when peter comes out Harry tells peter that tony came in and saw him and stormed out and peter goes out to find him and tony tells him that he thought peter cheated and he was jealous. And they spend the rest of the night curled in Tony’s bed

I hope I did this justice! Thank you sm for the prompt, and I hope that you enjoy it :’)

TW: Miscommunication | Suspected (no actual) cheating | Moderate angst | Slight hurt

The figure sprawled on their bed is immediately evident as not Peter. Tony stops short in the doorway, taking in the sight of the boy draped over the bed like he owns it.

At a passing glance or at a distance he could pass for Peter, but closer inspection tells all the differences. This boy’s hair is lighter, a little straighter. His jaw is sharper, mouth wider, eye brighter. Classically and softly handsome, not too dissimilar to Peter.

He’s shirtless, head lifting from the pillow in surprise.

“Oh! Peter didn’t tell me he was expecting-”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Tony cut in icily, ears picking up on the sound of the shower. Peter was one of those ‘must shower after sex’ kinds of people, though now and then he could be persuaded to snuggle for a while before the tackiness and drying sweat became unbearable.

It was crystal, nuclear level clear what was going on here. He didn’t need more than two braincells to rub together to take in the scene and know what he’d walked in on.

“Uh.” The other boy looked confused and a little apprehensive, brows furrowing as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. Glancing at the closed doorway of the en -uite. Tony forced himself to breathe out, forced himself to move under the leaden, cold weight of his heart.

He’d thought Peter was different.

Peter had promised him he was different. Had promised his friendliness with everyone was truly just who he was, that the only person who had his heart and body was Tony. He’d been a fucking fool for believing it, clearly.

Peter was beautiful, vibrant, insatiable. How could Tony have any singular claim to that? How could Tony have thought he could ever hoard such a treasure?

He turns away.

Barely hears the slamming of the door over the roaring in his ears. He felt sick, nausea and hurt twisting an writhing in his stomach like a live beast, ugly and wounded.

He kept replaying every moment with Peter over and over in his mind, the last texts they’d sent to each other, the last kiss, the first time they fucked, every time Peter had promised Tony, there’s nobody else but you.

He laughed, because if he didn’t laugh he’d cry. How fucking stupid had he been? Nobody was as sweet as Peter, as wholesome without using it as a smokescreen.

Peter had well and truly reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. He clutched his car keys in his palm so tightly that it began to hurt, metal ridges biting into his skin as he stalked across the campus towards the residential parking lot.

Ripping open the door to his car, he’d barely got inside and shut the door when it was yanked open again, a breathless Peter almost falling straight into his lap. Tony jerked in his seat, heart squeezing so painfully at the sight of Peter’s wild, dark eyes that for a moment he almost forgot about the rest of the hurt.

Peter was laughing.

“You’re an idiot, Anthony Edward Stark,” Peter managed, hair sopping wet and wearing nothing but a sodden shirt, boxers and unlaced sneakers. Fury coiled low and vicious in his stomach as Peter crawled into his lap, panting and red cheeked.

“Get the fuck off me, Parker,” he snapped once he’d come back to himself, once he’d reminded himself of why Peter was wet. Hurt flashed across Peter’s pretty face, lips parted and the light in his eyes flickering like a candle in the breeze for a moment, before cold hands clutched at his jaw, forcing his head up where he ducked it away, teeth grinding.

“Tony. Please, I know what you’re thinking, but if the last few months have meant anything, give me a moment to explain.”

He wanted to laugh, to shove Peter off him, but he couldn’t move. It was a cruel card to be dealt; if the last few months have meant anything to you.

They’d meant everything to him.

“You’ve got ten fucking seconds before I tip you ass-first into the dirt and leave you there,” he choked out, wrenching his jaw from Peter’s gentle touch as tears blurred his vision. He kept his hands fisted at his sides, terrified that if he let himself touch, he’d find himself either hurting or holding.

Peter let out a breath above him, teeth catching his lower lip for a moment. He was still awkwardly hunched over, crammed into the bare space between Tony and the steering wheel.

“Tony, baby. I know what it looked like, okay? But I can promise you, I swear to you, it wasn’t that. I meant to call you on my back to the dorm, but we ran into Steve and I forgot. That boy? That’s Harry.”

Harry.

The name was familiar, immediately so. It dredged up past conversations of the new kid in Peter’s chemistry class, friendly and nerdy, crushing hard on Peter’s friend MJ.

Something must’ve crossed his face because Peter looked encouraged, gripping at his shirt like Tony might still throw him out of the car at any moment.

“He’s my study partner for this assignment, Tones. That’s it, nothing else, I swear. He came to our dorm because we’re working on a project - I can even show you, and I can show you the lecturer’s list that shows us as partners. I had a glass of orange juice and we were trying to juggle the folders and the laptop and he knocked it from my hand.”

Peter looked like he might cry now, curling towards Tony like a flower towards the sun.

“Baby, please. We tipped the orange juice, and because we were sat back it went all over us. His shirt got soaked and it was in my hair, Tony, and I told him he could take one of my shirts while I showered but he just said he didn’t want to go poking around without me there and, and--” Peter’s words trailed off on a hitch, his eyes glossy as he pawed at Tony helplessly.

“Please. I could never do that, Tony. Not to you, not to anyone.”

And fuck, but if Tony wasn’t a weak man. Even as ridiculous as the story sounded he could feel himself thawing, drawn to Peter like they were tied by red string.

He could feel the hurt and the anger draining away, the jealousy at the mental image of two pretty, slender boys together fading like an old memory. Peter was staring down at him imploringly, braced like he still expected to be hit, wearing Tony’s shirt and Tony…

He let out a breath, a sound somewhere between a sob, a laugh and a growl, and dragged Peter down to his chest, sucking in a ragged breath and inhaling the scent of Peter’s coconut body wash.

Peter slumped against him, arms wrapping around his head as best he could in the cramped space, body shuddering with his own exhale.

“You’re being honest?” he whispered into the damp fabric pressed against his face and Peter shifted, reached for him against to tip his head back so they were looking each other in the eye.

“Always, Tones. Fuck, when Harry said you sounded pissed, and you’d walked away, I... I thought you were leaving me. I can’t... I know how it looked, and I’m so sorry. I should have-”

Peter’s words are cut off by Tony catching his mouth, licking into him and kissing him with enough force to bruise, pressing closer and closer until the car horn startled them both.

“We-- We should go back. I told Harry to wait while I went after you,” Peter murmured, biting at his lip, hands roaming Tony restlessly like he was afraid this was just a dream and he was about to open his eyes to Tony having driven away.

He doesn’t even know where he’d have gone. Home was a set of sparkling brown eyes and a laugh that made his heart soft and warm.

He let Peter pull him from the car, the cool air hitting the wetness on his chest and thighs from where Peter had leapt straight out of the shower, straight into clothes and straight onto him. Peter refused to let go of his hand, glancing up at him on every other step like he might change his mind.

He counted his breaths, counted his steps, tried to blink away the sight of Harry sprawled half naked on the bed, the way his gut had risen up like a tidal wave. If Peter said they hadn’t done anything…

He had no choice but to trust him.

Harry was standing upright when Peter pushed the door open, looking across at them warily like Peter had brought Tony back just to let him lay into him.

Tony drank in the sight of him again, the vague nervous-horrified expression, the empty cup on the desk behind him and the one important factor he hadn’t noticed before - the fact that one pillow case and the top cover of the bedding had been removed.

“I swear, nothing ha-” Harry begun, and Tony held up a hand, squeezing Peter’s with his other. Harry’s jaw snapped shut and his expression pinched, like he was bracing himself.

“If Peter says nothing happened...Then nothing happened,” Tony breathed out, glancing to the side at the sunny, joyful expression that Peter levelled him with. He offered a tiny, weak smile in response, still too wrung out to really comprehend the entire situation.

He still felt vaguely sick and he could feel a headache brewing behind his temples, but relief shook through him like an earthquake.

“That’s really good relationship trust right there,” Harry huffed out, wringing the hem of one of Peter’s shirts. Peter must’ve given it to him before running out.

“But also, for future reference, I’m straight. Not that Peter’s ugly! Just... Lacking. In what I like,” Harry clarified, shooting Peter an apologetic glance when the boy made a sound like he might actually be dying.

“Great?” Tony replied in puzzlement, brows lifting.

As it turns out, Harry was actually not such a bad guy. He’d recently transferred from Canada and had met Peter through their Chemistry class. He looked horrified when Tony apologised for getting the wrong idea, shaking it off with his own apology for how it looked, for not thinking about what Peter’s boyfriend might presume upon walking in.

Peter hugged Harry before he left, and Tony shook his hand, gritting out a heartfelt but reluctant sentiment that he was happy Harry had a friend in Peter, and that he hoped this hadn’t put Harry off hanging out with Peter or Tony in the future.

No sooner had he shut the door did he find a set of hands tugging at his hips, pulling him backwards until he bumped into a warm, solid body and they both toppled, landing on the bed together, entangled.

“You know I’d never cheat on you, right?” Peter mumbled against the back of his neck, arms wrapped around him. Tony gave a soft sound and shifted, rolling them so they were laying side by side now, playing little spoon as Peter wormed closer.

He’d dried off in the time they’d sat talking to Harry, but his fingertips were still cool as he slid them under Tony’s shirt collar.

“I know,” he replied gently, holding onto Peter’s arms with one hand, dropping the other to his thigh where he rubbed slow, soothing circles.

They lay there together for a while on the unmade bed, Peter breathing warm puffs of air against the back of his neck and Tony losing himself in the motion of sliding his thumb along the side of Peter’s wrist until the latter’s stomach grumbled loudly.

They reluctantly hauled themselves up and made ramen, remade the bed, then fell straight back into it. Peter wrapped himself back up around Tony as they settled, fingers entwined and the room around them quiet, content.

“Invite him back over on Friday,” Tony murmured as Peter tucked his head under his chin.

“Really?” Peter sounded dubious.

“Mm. We can invite the others too if you want, but I don’t want to scare away your new, straight friend.”

“And you won’t get jealous?” he could feel Peter’s smile against his shoulder.

“Mm, no,” he replied, tucking Peter closer. “Because before he gets here, I’m going to fuck you so full of cum it’ll be dripping out of your for hours, reminding you who you belong with.”

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #starker: angst #starker: (not) cheating #starker: hurt/comfort #starker: hurt an comfort #starker: established relationship #starker: college au #starker: alternate universe #sie fics

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powermaknae · 4 years ago

Text

In the Dark Part 3

Incubus! Yuta x Witch! Lily

Yuta leaves a life of wild partying and long nights to be with Lily, a witch with growing power.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~Fantasy!au, sexual themes, some angst, blood play, power complex, fighting, drinking, demons

Word Count- 4K~

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long. I started uni again and just got really busy. But I hope you like it. It took a lot of effort. I really like how it turned out :}.

The sky was dark against the neon lights of the club Yuta was stationary in. It had remained that way for days, after the pair emerged from Johnny’s nerd store. Yuta felt comfort in the corner at his reserved seat in his favorite club. He felt comfort but he was nowhere near content.

Lily had showed him her power, used it to help him, and it was highly amusing to him. But as he sat alone, accompanied only by several empty shot glasses, he couldn’t help letting his mind wander to the thought of her: Her childlike persona, soft skin, powerful demeaner. She was truly everything he desired.

He didn’t desire her like the woman he’d sucked dry the night before. No. It was so much more.

He gazed around at the crowd packing the popular night club, the clothes of many still sopping from the inclement weather. A few figures caught his attention, a group of college boys surrounding a very intoxicated girl. She was smaller than most of them but didn’t seem to notice the intention around her.

One of the boys flicked his hair out of his face as he peered over his shoulder in Yuta’s direction. He smirked before focusing back on the girl. Something about this boy was unsettling to Yuta.

Yuta was used to unsightly characters, ones of his own kind that were not nearly as skilled or experienced as he, and other creatures of similar nature with a much higher tendency for brutality, but he had never felt this unnerved.

He felt like the boy may have been a creature of familiarity, but Yuta couldn’t determine what, and that’s what was odd. He didn’t know.

After downing his last shot, he stood from his place and adjusted his dress pants before making his way to the door, trying to think no more of the feeling in the pit of his stomach. This party had become boring and he was in no mood to feed again tonight.

As he passed through the crowd, dodging body after body, the boy appeared beside him, checking his shoulder.

“My bad,” he sneered in an unexpected nasally tone. Yuta followed him from over his shoulder as he continued toward the exit, watching the next movements of the boy until he reached the door.

The streets were painted with wet streaks as the rain misted Yuta’s face. For a rainy night, he noted the unusual amount of civilians wandering the city. It was very odd indeed.

Every direction he turned his head, his eyes met a bystander. He couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that they were here for him. He felt for sure they could tell what he was, but what were they?

He picked up his pace, trying to remain inconspicuous without going into a panic. Frantically checking his surroundings, he hadn’t noticed a quickly approaching pedestrian and accidentally bumped into her arm as he passed. Her feet never slowed as she glanced behind her, giving Yuta a familiar smirk. He was close enough to her to see that the color of her irises were tinted purple.

Something unnatural was happening, he could feel it, and he needed to get to Lily as quickly as possible without being noticed.

He made a sharp turn down a confined alleyway with the intention of breaking into a sprint, turning his head over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed. The air around him grew thicker as he attempted to pull himself forward, but he was blocked.

In the little light coming from the open streets, a large figure stood in his way, chuckling in an inhumanly deep voice.

Yuta was not one to let fear take over his senses, but he had to admit, he was afraid. Not afraid for his life but the fear of Lily’s, putting her in danger. This beast of a creature was after them and Yuta had to get to her somehow, before something else did.

********

In her small quiet home, Lily was anything but calm. The clash of thunder echoed through the walls as she carefully watched the surges of energy through the clouded sky. Her entire body ached, and her hands were shaky as she tried her best to make some chamomile to calm her senses.

The Book had not opened itself to her since she brought it home, but it spoke to her often, appeared in writing on the walls, and flowed with the cold breeze of the storm. The power it had placed upon her shoulders had taken a toll on her physical being.

She knew she had become much stronger. She could feel her ability growing within her, noticed how much she could withstand, but it had been days of nonstop training, and she felt much weaker than when it began.

The energy within her had changed, shifted, almost as much as the weather had. She somehow felt connected to it, like the change in magic had conjured the storm itself. She was much more powerful, but the energy she now possessed was difficult to control and resulted in several dents in the drywall.

She hadn’t spoken to Yuta in days. She missed him, but was terrified of what he might do if he found out the Protector had been broken. His demonic nature can be difficult to maneuver. Chaos cannot be controlled once set in motion and in the state she was in, he could have easily destroy everything she’s worth.

But now as she paced her living room floor, watching her hands shake uncontrollably trying best to contain her magic and sipping at her cup, she wondered where he had been, if he was doing alright, if he would come find her. She let her thoughts run with ideas to draw her attention away from the impending anxiety the storm had caused her.

Her feet had stopped moving momentarily when she heard a loud BANG at the front door. She jumped instinctively, stumbling backwards. Then from behind the door came a frantic, “Lily, please let me in. It’s me.”

She placed the warm cup on a coffee table nearby with surprisingly steady hands and waved her hand, rushing to the door as it swung open and banged against the wall. Standing slumped on her doorstep, leaning his weight against the frame, was a very weak, beaten and bloodied Yuta. Even when covered in bruises and gashes, his face still managed to glow.

She quickly pulled his arm around her shoulder, helping him hobble through the door. She sat him on the floor against the wall opposite the kitchen and rushed out of view. When she returned, she held a small bowl of warm water that had been sprinkled with peppermint oil and a washcloth draped over the side.

He gazed at her with big eyes as she moved the objects with such grace. The door was closed with a soft thud behind them, but the air from outside had made the room cold. Yuta shivered under Lily’s touch as she padded the patches of blood on his temple. His shirt had been massacred with gaping wounds underneath. Lily tended to those next, trying her best to stay calm.

Yuta winced at first, taking in sharp breaths, but as it subsided, he brought a soft hand to her cheek, caressing it gently. His fingers were freezing against her skin, partially due to his cold-blooded nature.

“It worked.” His voice was barely audible.

Lily was still shaking, but more out of fear. Yuta was strong enough to hold his own in a fight. What kind of creature could do this much damage and was it still after him?

Her face was stern as she glanced up in his large, sparkly eyes and said, “What happened? What did this to you?” She was so shaken that it was audible in her voice. Yuta pushed himself with his hand against the floor, sitting up a little straighter against the wall as his body went ridged.

“Lily~ something has changed.” “No shit…” She mumbled under her breath.

“I’m serious. I felt like they were watching me, following me. I tried to get to you but…”

“Yuta… Who’s they?”

“I- I don’t know… But they are not human. Some of them may be like me or other types of demons, but I can’t tell.”

“Did they do this to you?” Her eyes were getting puffy and she felt as if she’d burst into tears, but she fought it off.

“No. It was something else; something much bigger. I couldn’t fight-”

Before he could finish his sentence, he snapped his head towards the door. A distant thudding of very large footsteps was growing closer to their place of refuge.

Lily held completely still, focusing her entire attention on the thudding.

“Please tell me you didn’t lead it here,” she elevated her voice slightly, a tinge of annoyance in it.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. I just had to get to you before it found you.”

From outside, a booming roar shook the glass window and the two of them were almost completely consumed by fear.

“LILY BENNETT! COME OUT AND FACE YOUR TRUE SELF!” The tone of the roar was demonic, almost inaudible if it wasn’t quite so loud.

Yuta stood in his spot, using the wall for stability. Many of his wounds were already starting to heal at an inhuman rate, but he was still weak. Lily was moving towards the charmed door, ready to pull it open and face whatever it was that was looking for them.

Behind her came his voice, “Lily, please don’t. I can’t lose you.” She didn’t turn to look him in the eye before she swung the door open and marched outside for the showdown of a lifetime.

For the first time in days, she was willing to let herself loose. Her eyes glowed a fiery hue and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She could already feel her fingertips tingle with every step she took.

The sky was almost a pitch black, making the surrounding difficult for any human to see. Her shoes were soaked through, but her hair remained unwavering in the storm, the rain unable to reach her.

In front of her stood a creature like no other, several feet taller than her, covered in muscle. It bared its teeth and claws at her, massive in size and terrifying to look at. It resembled something like an overgrown werewolf, but its eyes seemed familiar.

“Johnny?” Her voice was low against the sound of the pounding rain.

“NOT ANYMORE! I AM MARCHOSIAS, MARQUIS OF HELL! YOU HAVE UNLEASHED MY LEGIONS! NOW YOU SHALL FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!”

He bellowed at her, preparing to charge. She mustered everything she had within, all the magic she’d been given, the power she possessed. Her feet were picked up off the ground as she pulled her energy through her limbs to her fingertips. They glowed against the stormy night sky, where magic manifested into a line of defense.

As the marquis charged her, Lily held out a strong hand. She was putting every ounce of her being into her protection. She forced a small beam away from her stable frame, but it was a weak effort and the beast reached her, pushing backwards by several yards, and knocking her onto the ground.

He ran at her again, snarling in the dark. She was ready for his approach this time and shot onto her feet with both arms outstretched. The beam was stronger and slowed the beast down significantly, but she quickly ran out of steam.

Marchosias had realized her weakness and was charging faster than ever, feeding off of the thought of his victory. With great haste, he swiped at her small figure with sloppy aim, leaving a gash across her jawline.

She winced as she lay aching on the muddy ground. Her sore body was covered in bruises as she felt the warm gash ooze. She could make out a low growl farther away from where she lay, but it wasn’t the beast.

Yuta had regained some of his strength and was fending off the beast, trying his best to buy Lily some time.

He threw a vase across the yard, smashing it against his opponent. He was frantically dealing as many blows to Marchosias’ chest and face as possible, eyes as black as the sky, egging him on for more.

Lily pulled herself back onto her feet, wobbly and shaken. Even though her entire body ached for rest, she pulled every ounce of energy into her small fingers, drawing the attention of both males.

Marchosias lunged into a sprint, reaching his large claws towards her, but in an instant, she had filled her entire body with powerful magic, using all the energy, magic, and pure adrenaline she had left.

She cried out in the surge, as her entire body blinded her opponent. It was almost as if the power had burst from the seams of her small figure, and in a flash, the creature withered in the beam, letting out a ungodly screech.

The flash had grown brighter and brighter, and the screech louder, until, finally, Lily collapsed into the mud, bleeding profusely from her wounds and the demon shriveled into the soil.

Yuta watched in horror from his position in the distance. Farther away, he could make out the cries of other demons. By banishing Marchosias, she had also destroyed his legions.

Hearing the wailing in the far-off distance had changed Yuta’s demeanor. His face contorted in discomfort, his limbs longed for stretching and his thirst for blood was growing with every second.

He could feel himself transforming as the screams of his people grew and Lily’s pulse became faint. His body felt like that of a body builder, growing stronger and stronger with every movement. The desire for blood was growing unbearable. He needed it. He began to stand up straight, changing his appearance, preparing for a night of insatiable desire and untamable lust. His shoulders were broad, his now shoulder length black hair matched the color of his soul, and all he could see was red as he let the demon in him take over.

Lily stayed, continuing to fight as death threatened to take her. Yuta had disappeared, leaving little trace and a badly injured witch to fend for her life.

********

The next morning was colder than normal, the remnants of a demon hoard still lingering in the city. The air was moist from all the rain, the sidewalks still sprinkled with puddles. All was quiet, the early morning birds were still in hiding and the people roaming the streets were silent aside from distant footsteps.

Yuta was startled awake by a group of pigeons that had gathered around him as he lay on a park bench. He sat up slowly, trying to get a grip of what all had happened.

His lips were stained red with blood as he touched his tongue to his upper lip, tasting the familiar taste of iron. He wiped what he could on his torn sleeve, staining the fabric, too.

His head was in a daze, trying his best to remember the events of the night before. He looked down at his hands, taking note of the marks and more red stains. He noticed that his fingernails were filthy, harboring dirt and grime underneath.

In a flood of memory, he remembered Lily: rushing to her house, fighting the Marquis, and watching him vanish. After that was a blur.

He stood from the bench scaring off the pigeons and looked for a sign to tell him where exactly he had ended up. “Culture Tech Park”.

“Damn. How did I end up on the opposite side of town?”

His footsteps wavered slightly as he began the walk back to Lily’s small house. The city felt gloomy as he walked. He held his head low, watching his feet move carefully.

When he arrived, clouded in exhaustion, he looked up to see the front lawn had been completely demolished. It wasn’t picture perfect before, but now all the foliage had been destroyed and the yard was entirely mud and dirt.

Lily lay in the same indentation as before, not having moved a single muscle since the previous night. Yuta rushed to her side, rolling her onto her back. Her hair was matted from the mud and her face was covered in dried blood that had dripped from her wounds.

Yuta dipped his ear to her mouth, listening for breathing or any sign that she was still alive.

Kneeling near her limp body, he held her face in his hand, wondering how to fix this. Tears started forming in his soft brown eyes as he let his hair fall into his face. He had never meant to bring this upon her.

Just as he started to cry over her weak body, a presence manifested above him and soon he was joined by a very stern, rigid individual with short black hair and a heavy coat. He removed it from his slim figure and laid it over top if her as he lowered himself to meet Yuta’s position.

“Let’s get her inside. It’s freezing out here,” was all he said before standing back up. Yuta pulled her into his arms, holding her legs in one and keeping her head close to his chest with the other.

He tried to stay out of the way as best he could. Doyoung had cleared the small kitchen table for Yuta to set Lily on while he worked. He pulled things from cabinets and moved as quickly as possible. It wasn’t hard to tell that Lily had been like this for some time and he wasn’t sure how much he had to work with.

He paid Yuta little attention as he chanted under his breathe, sprinkling oils and herbs all over her and cursing when she didn’t respond.

“Shouldn’t we take her to a hospital?” Yuta interjected from against the wall after witnessing several rounds of ritual.

“They can’t help her. It would only make it worse,” Doyoung muttered, frustrated and becoming frantic.

Finally, after many attempts to bring her back to functionality, Doyoung placed a stick of cinnamon next to her right ear and said an incantation into her left, as a last resort: A spell he had never had to use before. He tried to keep his voice from wavering in nervousness.

When he had finished, there was almost an immediate difference: Her cold hands were slowly getting warmer, and her skin was gaining color.

Doyoung let out a sigh of relief. “The worst is over. She’ll be okay.”

“So now what happens?” Yuta was still very unsure of what he had done.

“We clean her up and let her rest.” It was simple but Doyoung began to wipe the dried blood and mud from her face with a rag. Yuta joined him slowly, coving more ground between the two of them. He had never cared for someone this much: certainly not enough to wipe blood from their cheeks.

Once her wounds were sewn and her hair was its regular shade of sunshine, Doyoung carried her to her bedroom, were the walls reflected the gloomy morning. He tucked her into the soft sheets and closed the door behind him to let her rest.

Yuta, who was flush against the wall again, knew better than to ask questions, but he didn’t have to. It was Doyoung who inquired.

“An incubus, huh? What exactly are you doing here?”

“I- We- it’s complicated…”

“I see. You know, I can tell you have a strange bond with my sister. One formed in magic. It’s quite strong.”

Sister…, Yuta never knew Lily had a brother, she really hadn’t mentioned much of a family. He only knew her to live on the outskirts of the city in a small cottage, alone.

“So, what’re you then? And how did you know she needed help?” He broke away from the wall and meandered closer to where Doyoung was brewing a cup of coffee.

“I’m a witch doctor; a healer. I’ve been staying close in the area. Lily told me she had been courted by the Book of Spells, so I’ve been doing my best to keep an eye on her. I could sense that something was off about her, but it may have just been you.”

Doyoung was not particularly fond of demonic creatures. He had several encounters with them, but never took any interest in them like his sister. She befriended the monsters in her closet and Doyoung banished them.

“Did I do this?...” Yuta’s voice was soft as he opened a place of his heart he didn’t even know he had, to a complete stranger.

“No,” Doyoung reassured. “If anything, I’m glad you found her when you did. Who knows what she could’ve done if you hadn’t been here?”

“Is she… evil? Is that why I like her so much?” His eyes went wide as the words flowed out of him. He never admitted to liking her.

Doyoung was unphased by the comment. “It’s possible. The Book of Spells certainly doesn’t court heroes.”

Yuta thought about the idea for a moment. Why was she willing to touch a demon, to befriend one, even care for someone like him? What was he to her? And what was she to him?

But thoughts were interrupted by Doyoung’s matter-of-fact nature. “I don’t think you are all evil, either. In fact, I think you and Lily balance. She could’ve become something much worse than Marchosias, but you were here to bring her back.”

They were silent now, in thoughts and words, just sitting awkwardly while Doyoung sipped at a cup of coffee, until he finally rose from his seat by the window and placed the mug in the sink before turning back to face Yuta.

“Take care of her. I know you will treat her well.”

And with that he opened the front door and vanished in the blink of an eye.

The small house was quiet, entirely. It was almost uncomfortably quiet for Yuta as he stood looking around at the aftermath of Doyoung’s power. Bloody rags were littered all over the floor along with wasted herbs and spices.

He felt overwhelmed, looking at the events of the day, so he opened the unstable door and sat on the porch step to think. The first thing he notice was that yard had been restored, was green and lush again. The indent in the ground where Lily was found had been filled.

It looked as though nothing had happened. The windchimes clanked together once more as a soft breeze filled the moist air. The flower beds in the windowsills were filled with color again as the gray of the sky began to fade.

How long will she take?

He sat and pondered on the porch step until the sun began to set and the star became visible. His head was less cloudy now and he was able to think clearly once more, only thinking about Lily’s wellbeing.

He stood from his sentinel post and shifted to go back inside, hoping that it would welcome him as she did. Upon reentry, the mess had been cleaned and placed in its rightful home. It was spotless from top to bottom. He glanced up to find his favorite scent had been replaced above the door frames.

He was careful to keep his footsteps light as he made his was to her bedroom, where he saw her under the bright stars of the night sky. She looked as beautiful as anything he’d ever seen, all comfy and cozy in her soft bed.

He slipped in next to her under the covers, careful not to wake her. Her caressed her exposed shoulder with the pads of his fingers, truly feeling her for the first time.

He closed his eyes and took her hand as he projected himself into her dreams. There he saw the two of them together, living a happy life full of wholesome enjoyment and passionate desire. There they would remain as the world was at peace once again.

#nct-writers #neohalloween #project #final chapter #maybe #incubusyuta #nctfanfic #nct fantasy au #demons #nct yuta #nct doyoung #nct johnny #witchy shit #witch oc #dark magic #big brother doyoung #werewolf? johnny

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skeeter-110 · 4 years ago

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A Twist in the Tale (That is as Old as Time)

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. As punishment for his actions, the young prince is transformed into a monstrous beast by a mysterious enchantress. Only condition is if he can learn to love someone and earn their love in return, the curse will be lifted. The prince - now turned Beast - felt doomed for eternity; until he met a little boy with a heart of gold.

AKA: a Beauty and the Beast Irondad AU

|| Chapter One || || Chapter Two || || Chapter Three || || Chapter Four || || Chapter Five ||

Chapter Six: Tale as Old as Time

The Beast was currently being bathed by one of the coat racks, wanting to make sure he smelt alright for his night with Peter. If they were going to be inventing together, chances were they were going to be really close to each other and he didn't want to put the boy off by his gross dog smell.

"Tonight is the night!" Rhodey announces as he hops onto a stool that was sitting next to a tub.

"I'm not sure I can do this," Beast admits, pushing his sopping wet hair out of his eyes.

"You don't have time to be timid. You must be bold, daring." Rhodey bluntly says, glancing over towards the rose that was bending down it was wilting so much.

"Bold. Daring." The Beast repeats, trying to take the words to heart and pump himself up as he shook all the water out of his fur.

"You two will be close together. There will be no distractions, just you two bonding alone together. And when the moment is right, you confess your love." Rhodey says as if it was that simple.

"Yes, I... I-I- No, I can't. I can't just tell the boy that I see him as a son, I'm going to scare him away." The Beast denies, giving himself a self-deprecating look in the mirror he was sitting across from.

"You care for the boy, don't you?" Rhodey questions, watching as the Beast had his hair pulled in every which direction in order to be cut.

"More than anything." The Beast sincerely replies, groaning when the coat rack tugged a comb through a particularly stubborn knot.

"Well, then, you must tell him." Rhodey continues to push.

"I'm going to look so stupid. Who just assumes a father role?" The Beast grumbles, shaking his head at how ridiculous it all sounded out loud.

"You've got to have a bit more faith. We've all seen how the boy is around you; he looks up to you! He clearly sees you as some form of father figure. It'll all be fine, just be honest." Rhodey tries to reassure.

"Just be honest."

* * *

The Beast slowly walked up to Peter's bedroom, taking a deep breath in before knocking on the small boy's door.

The door quickly swung open, the excited smile on Peter's face enough to loosen up the anxious knot in the Beast's chest a bit.

"Are you ready?" The Beast questions, cringing internally at how stupid that sounded. Of course he was ready, he wouldn't have opened up the door if he wasn't and he definitely wouldn't be smiling as wide as he was now.

"Yep!" Peter answers, happily connecting his arm with the Beast's when it was offered to him. "What are we going to build?" Peter excitedly asks, practically skipping as they walked.

"I was thinking we could build a clock that could play music similar to a music box when it chimed the hour; if that sounds interesting to you. If not we could easily figure something else out." The Beast offers, the anxiety in his chest loosening a bit when the smile stayed on Peter's face.

"That sounds amazing! Maybe we can even get little trinkets to move along with it!" Peter adds making the Beast chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"We can definitely try." The Beast agrees.

The rest of the walk to the workshop was spent in comfortable silence, the Beast constantly running what he was going to say to Peter through his head. The Beast tried to remember everything Rhodey told him and tried his best to figure out how to phrase everything so it showed Peter how much the Beast truly cared about him; and that he wasn't just doing all of this to break the spell.

They soon came to a stop in front of two large doors, the Beast gently untangling his arm from Peter's so get could open the doors.

As soon as Beast opened up the door, Peter dashed right into the room, stopping in the middle of it and gasping.

"Woah, look at all of this." Peter breathlessly says, his fingers lightly touching all of the tools that he now had access to.

"You ready to get started?" The Beast asks, huffing out a short laugh when Peter whipped around and nodded his head so hard he began to look like a bobblehead.

It was surprisingly easy for them both to fall into a rhythm. It really didn't take long for them to figure out how the other worked and to go with that. And soon, before they knew it, a few hours had passed and they almost had the clock completely done.

"Here, try moving that gear over there." The Beast points out to Peter, the small boy huffing and beginning to get frustrated. They couldn't figure out how to get the small trinkets to pop out and move along with the music even though they've been working on it for the past hour.

Peter shifted the gears and sat back, hoping that did the trick. The Beast quickly sped up the time on the clock, making it turn the hour so they could see if it worked finally.

Just like before, the clock began to play the music they had put in it, but once again, no trinkets popped out.

Peter let out a discouraged huff and crossed his arms when the clock refused to do exactly what he wanted.

"It's never going to work." Peter all but pouts, glaring at the clock as if it personally offended him.

"It will work, don't give up on it. Some things just take more time and thought than others." The Beast tries to calm. "Try slowing down and taking a closer look at it." The Beast gently coaches, trying to stifle his amused smile down when Peter sighed.

Beast watched as the young boy took the clock back into his hands, practically seeing the gears turning in the small mind in front of him. The Beast's amused smile quickly turned proud when he saw Peter's eyes light up with a solution.

"There's a chain stuck to one of the gears! That's why the trinkets weren't able to come out." Peter announces, quickly going in and fixing the problem.

Once Peter sat back, the Beast took the clock and made it go forward towards the next hour. Almost instantly the clock began playing a twinkling little tune and the golden little trinkets began making their way out of the front of the clock.

"It works!" Peter laughs, clapping his hands excitedly as he continues to watch the clock work its magic.

Seeing the raw joy radiate of the small boy was enough to fuel the Beast through the biggest conversation of his life.

"Peter," Beast starts, pulling the young boy's attention off the clock, "are you happy here with me?"

"Yes," Peter answers without thinking. Although, almost as soon as he answers, the smile fell off of Peter's face.

"What is it?" The Beast asks, his heart sinking as soon as he saw the no longer happy look.

"If only I could see my Aunt again, just for a moment. I miss her so much." Peter admits, looking down as if the sadness and longing were physically weighing his head down. The Beast began to look down also sympathetically before a brilliant idea came to mind.

"There is a way." The Beast says, gently taking Peter's hands into his before leading him out of the workshop.

Before Peter even knew it, they were making their way into the forbidden room in the west wing; butterflies flying in Peter's stomach at the memories of went down the last time they both were in this room together.

The Beast walked Peter over to the table that held the rose, picking up the mirror that laid next to it.

"This mirror will show you anything. Anything you wish to see." The Beast explains, handing the mirror over to Peter.

"I'd like to see my Aunt May, please," Peter asks, causing the mirror to glow a bright green before settling onto the image of May; however of a happy or relaxed image like Peter was hoping.

Instead, he was showed the image of May stumbling through the woods, trying to fight against the strong winds. Peter gasped as he watched May trip and fall, the old woman coughing and struggling to get back up.

"Aunt May, oh no. She's sick! She may be dying and she's all alone." Peter cries, clutching the mirror tighter as he continued to watch his Aunt.

The Beast sighed and turned around to look at the nearly dead rose. It was wilting so bad that it was bending over, and it really only had about three petals left. Sadness washed over the Beast when he realized what he needed to do.

"Then, you must go to her." The Beast forces out. The last thing he wanted was to lose Peter, but he wasn't actually his father. The Beast couldn't keep Peter away from his last living relative when this could be her last moments; he deserved to say goodbye to the woman who raised him.

"What did you say?" Peter sniffles.

"I release you. You're no longer my prisoner."

"You mean I'm free?" Peter asks, sending another pang through Beast's heart.

"Yes."

"Oh, thank you." Peter sincerely says, grabbing Beast's hand and squeezing it gratefully before turning back to the mirror. "Hold on, Aunt May. I'm on my way." Peter says as if May could hear him. Peter tried handing Beast the mirror back, only for him to push it back.

"Take it with you so you'll always have a way to look back and remember me." The Beast says, trying his hardest not to show his sorrow when Peter leaned into the hand he placed on his face.

"Thank you for understanding how much she needs me." Peter thanks, hugging the Beast tightly when he saw how upset he was.

As much as he didn't want to, Peter had to pull away, giving a teary smile to the Beast before walking out of the room.

The Beast just hunched over the table and stared at the half-dead flower before dragging himself out to the balcony to watch Peter leave on Phillippe. As soon as he saw the young boy leave, the Beast roared, not being able to contain his feelings any longer.

The Beast had to continue to remind himself that this needed to be done. That letting Peter go was the right decision.

After all, if you love something, set it free, right?

* * *

May slowly began to regain consciousness again, realizing she was finally warm and laying on something soft as she did so.

Gently opening her eyes, May was surprised that the first thing she saw was Peter sitting over her and wiping her face with a warm cloth.

"Peter." May wheezes out, not quite believing her eyes.

"Shh, it's alright, Aunt May. I'm home." Peter reassures, continuing to wipe her face.

"I thought I'd never see you again," May admits as she struggles to sit up and pull Peter into a tight hug.

"I miss you so much!" Peter cries, relishing being able to hug his aunt once again.

"The-The Beast! Did you... How did you escape?" May questions, quickly pulling Peter away so she could see his face.

"I didn't escape, Aunt May. He... He let me go." Peter answers, a small smiling forming on his face at the memory of how kind the Beast was to him.

"That horrible Beast?" Aunt May asks in disbelief.

"But he's different now, Aunt May. He's changed somehow. He took such good care of me while I was there; almost like how you told me my Papa used to care for me." Peter explains.

Before May could even say anything about that, both her and Peter's attentions were placed on Peter's bag that was now wiggling. The top of the bag quickly popped open, causing the mirror and Morgan to roll right out of it.

"Hi!" Morgan greets, hoping right towards May.

"Oh! A stowaway." Peter giggles, watching as Morgan firmly landed on May's lap.

"Why, hello there, little miss. Didn't think I'd see you again." May chuckles, remembering her other encounter with the little teacup.

"Peter, why'd you go away? Don't you like us anymore?" Morgan asks, pouting a bit at the thought of Peter no longer liking them.

"Oh, Morgan, of course I do. It's just that-" Peter begins to reassure, only to be cut off by a knock on the front door. Peter just gave the pair a small smile before getting up and going to the door.

When Peter managed to open the door, he saw an unfamiliar man on the other side, making him subconsciously take a step back.

"May I help you?" He asks, unsure of why this stranger was knocking on their door.

"I've come to collect your Aunt." The man says as if that cleared anything up.

"My Aunt?"

"Don't worry Monsuier, we'll take good care of him." The Man tries to reassure before stepping away to reveal a mob behind him waiting with the asylum carriage.

"My Aunt's not crazy!" Peter shouts, shoving the man out of the way so he could walk down the porch steps.

"She was raving like a lunatic! We all heard her, didn't we?" Victor Von Doom asks the mob, hyping them up even more.

"No, I won't let you!" Peter shouts once he sees men jumping out of the carriage.

"Peter?" May calls out, slowly peering around the front door.

"May, tell us again, old girl. Just how big was the beast?" Victor continues to torment, causing the mob to laugh behind him.

"He was... I mean, he was- he was enormous! I'd-I'd say at least eight, no. more like ten feet!" May stutters out, making everyone laugh even harder.

"Well, you don't get much crazier than that," Victor announces.

"It's true, I tell you." May tries to plead. Of course, no one believed her.

"Get her out of here!" Victor commands, the two men from the carriage instantly grabbing May by her arms and restraining her despite her pleas, and yells for them to let go of her.

"No! You can't do this!" Peter cries, although no one was really paying attention to him.

"Poor Peter. It's a shame about your Aunt." Norman sympathizes, trying to comfort the young boy by wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

"You know she's not crazy, Monsieur Osborn," Peter says, hoping the influential man would be able to help him out here.

"I might be able to clear up this little misunderstanding, if..." Norman begins to agree, making it obvious that he wasn't going to do it for free.

"If what?" Peter hesitantly asks.

"If you come and work for me."

"What?"

"One little word, Peter, that's all it takes." Norman continues to push.

"Never!" Peter denies, pushing away from the man.

"Have it your way! But just know that either way, you no longer have a guardian, and more likely than not you'll be sent to live with me either way." Norman dismisses, the words basically knocking all the wind out of Peter's lungs.

May continued to call out for Peter to help her, finally snapping Peter out of the daze he'd fallen into. Peter quickly ran back into the house and grabbed the mirror the Beast gave him before running back out to the porch.

"My Aunt's not crazy and I can prove it," Peter announces to everyone outside before turning towards the mirror, "show me the Beast," Peter commands, the mirror glowing green as he turned it around for everyone to see.

Sure enough, an image of the Beast roaring appeared causing everyone to gasp in shock.

"Is it dangerous?" A random woman asks as Peter begins to walk into the crowd.

"No, no, he'd never hurt anyone." Peter tries to reassure, hugging the mirror close to his chest when the mob clearly didn't believe him. "Please, I know he looks vicious, but he's really kind and gentle. He's my friend."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you had feelings for this monster." Norman accuses, grabbing Peter by his shoulders again.

"He's no monster, Monsieur Osborn, you are!"

"He's as crazy as the old lady! The Beast will make off with all your children; he'll come after them in the night!" Norman begins to proclaim, ripping the mirror out of Peter's hands as he did so.

"No!" Peter cries, trying to stop the mob from believing the lies Norman was spitting out. Never once had the Beast hurt Peter, and he knew for a fact that the Beast wouldn't hurt any other children either.

If anything, it was the exact opposite. The Beast was father-like to Peter once they got used to each other and he made Peter feel safe and cared for when he was under his watch.

"We're not safe 'till his head is mounted on my wall! I say we kill the Beast!" Norman continues to rile up.

"No, I won't let you do this!" Peter shouts, jumping up on Norman's arm to try and swipe the mirror back.

"If you're not with us, you're against us," Norman says, grabbing Peter's arm and roughly dragging him across the yard. "Bring the old woman!" Norman commands, the men who threw May into the carriage grabbing her once again and dragging her over to where Norman was standing with Peter.

"We can't have them running off to warn the creature," Norman explains as he opens up the doors to the cellar, practically throwing both May and Peter down in there and locking the doors.

"Let us out!" Peter begs, trying everything to open the doors back up. The shouting outside continued for a while until everyone eventually left to go hunt the Beast down.

Peter quickly grabbed a fire iron and tried to wedge the latch off of the cellar door, huffing and plopping down when it didn't work.

"I have to warn the Beast. This is all my fault." Peter defeatedly admits, before sighing and looking over towards his Aunt. "Oh, Aunt May, what are we going to do?" Peter asks, completely out of ideas for once in his life.

"Now, now, we'll think of something." May tries to console, wrapping Peter up in a tight hug.

They stayed wrapped up in each other's arms for a few moments, only pulling away when they heard a whistle blow and a bunch of whirring outside.

Peter quickly scrambled away and tried peering through the cracks of the cellar doors to see what was going on.

"What in the devil?" May mutters, also looking through the crack. She was only able to look through the crack for a second before seeing Peter's log-cutting invention come right towards them and pulling Peter away from the door.

The doors to the cellar shattered open as the invention chopped them up. May and Peter cowered in the corner, watching as the invention promptly fell down the stairs to the cellar and fell completely apart.

"You guys gotta try this thing." Morgan giggles from where she was hanging on one of the parts that had broken.

Instead, all three of them quickly ran out and hopped in Phillippe, pushing him to his limit to try and get to the castle as soon as possible.

By the time they finally got to the castle, though, Norman and all of his goons had already wreaked havoc and Norman was currently standing over the Beast, ready to strike and kill.

"No! No, Norman, don't!" Peter cries out when he noticed that the Beast was unmoving. Norman didn't listen, though, and still swung down his cement baton.

Thankfully the Beast reached his hand up and grabbed the baton mid-swing, finally beginning to fight back.

Peter quickly ran into the castle when he saw the Beast fight back, unsure of what he was going to do but knowing he needed to do something. Peter ran up all the stairs to the west wing, running out on what he knew to be the highest balcony.

Peter let out a sigh of relief when he saw Beast was still okay and had seemingly won the fight against Norman.

"Beast!" Peter calls out, the Beast instantly turning around at the sound of the young boy's voice.

"Peter." The Beast says, happily climbing up the roof when the small boy held his hand out for him to take.

As soon as Beast got up to the balcony Peter was on, he took the tiny hand into his and couldn't stop the huge smile from forming on his face.

"Peter. You came back." The Beast happily points out, gently holding Peter's face with his other hand. Peter smiled back and leaned into the familiar feeling of Beast's hand.

Of course, with the two of them being in their own world, that was a perfect time for Norman to come out of nowhere and stab the Beast in the side.

The Beast roared and leaned back, practically falling down the whole side of the castle if it wasn't for Peter grabbing his shirt and pulling him forward again.

Peter watched as Norman lost his grip and was the one who fell to the bottom of the castle instead, not really bringing himself to care too much. Instead, he was more focused on helping the Beast climb over the side of the balcony and onto the floor.

Peter gently rubbed the Beast's face, trying to hold his tears back as the Beast gasped and panting in pain.

"You... You came back." The Beast repeated, struggling to catch his breath after.

"Of course I came back. I couldn't let them... oh, this is all my fault. If only I'd gotten here sooner" Peter admits before throwing himself forward to wrap Beast up in a hug.

"Maybe it's better... it's better this way." The Beast pants, Peter instantly shaking his head at the idea.

"Don't talk like that. You'll be alright. We're together now. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see." Peter tries to deny, trying to force a smile so the tears didn't begin to stream down his face.

The Beast, already accepting his fate, just smiled back and held Peter's face in his hand once again.

"At least... I got to see you... one last time." The Beast says. Peter just closed his eyes and held the Beast's hand against his face, his eyes snapping open when he felt the Beast's hand go slack.

"No. No. Please. Please. Please don't leave me." Peter begs. When the Beast didn't move Peter buried his face into his chest and began to sob.

"Please wake up. You promised to teach me more, you promised to read to me more. I need you. I love you." Peter cries.

In the other room, the floating, wilting rose, finally lost its last petal. The last petal falling slowly down to the bottom of the glass bell.

Just like the Beast, the enchanted rose was gone.

Peter continued to sob on top of the Beast's body, unaware of the magic that was shooting all around them. That was, until the Beast's body began to float underneath him.

Peter scooted back as the magic began to swarm around the Beast.

Peter watched in awe as the Beast slowly began to turn human. It started with his hands and then his feet, and soon before Peter knew it, he was completely human again and floating back down to the ground.

Peter slowly began approaching the - now - man laying there, quickly stumbling back when he began to move.

The man slowly began to stand up, looking his entire body over as he did so. He quickly turned around to face Peter, giving the small boy a reassuring smile when he saw how uneasy he looked.

"Peter, it's me." The man says, gently taking the boy's hands into his. Peter was still unsure of the man until he looked up into his eyes and saw the same caring blue that he usually would see.

"It is you!" Peter exclaims, slamming into the Beast's - Man's? - chest for a tight hug. The man just laughed and held Peter close to his chest, glad to just have this little boy back.

As they hugged, magic flew all around them, changing everything and everyone.

Peter quickly pulled away from the hug when a bunch of strangers walked out onto the balcony, the Beast gasping when he saw them all also.

"Rhodey, Happy, Miss Potts! Look at all of us!" Beast shouts out in glee, pulling all of his friends into a hug. Once he was sure everyone was there and changed back he pulled Peter back into his arms, spinning the boy around just to hear his giggles.

"What do I call you now?" Peter asks.

"Tony. My name's Tony."

"Tony. I like it."

* * *

Not too long after the spell was broken, Tony threw a big party for everyone to celebrate.

Currently, Peter was running around the ballroom with Morgan. The two of them got along so well now that she was human again, especially since they were both so close in age.

May and Tony were watching the two kids with mirth in both of their eyes.

"You know, I am very old," May begins, gaining Tony's attention. "and he is still so very young. I can hardly keep up with him and plus there are just things I can't teach him since I'm a woman. He's going to need a father and I know you can be that for him."

"May. Are you sure?" Tony chokes up, thankful that the woman trusts him that much, but also not wanting her to regret the decision and try to take Peter away later down the road.

"I am. But, don't worry too much, I'll still be here in the castle with you just in case you have a question. It really is a learning experience raising such a rambunctious child." May reassures, patting Tony's arm.

"I will take very good care of him," Tony promises.

"I know you will," May says, the certainty in her voice making warmth spread throughout Tony's newfound heart

"Tony! Tony, Tony, Tony." Peter excitedly chants as he ran over to where his aunt and now adopted father was standing.

"Do you need something, Peter?" Tony asks, amusement flooding through his voice.

"Can you teach me to dance like everyone is doing?" Peter asks.

"I would love to." Tony agrees, holding his arm out for Peter to take.

May watched as Tony led Peter to the middle of the ballroom and promptly began to teach him how to dance.

The ballroom quickly filled up with Peter's laughter as he and Tony goofed around, causing not one person to not have a smile on their face.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Tag List: @spideyspeaches @lost-lunar-wolf @joyful-soul-collector @hatakehikari @thatcrackheadsadbitchtm

#peter parker #tony stark #irondad #fanfiction #beauty and the beast #Platonic love

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childotkw · 5 years ago

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Ok, so not only did you went on a crazy updating spree, but you also just created ANOTHER Au? About Regulus and Harry? I mean, I'm not complaining, but now I want to read more fics with them? Like I was just reading Dead Man Walking and now I'm so hungry for the Regulus content argh you're killing me (in a good way please don't stop)

I gotta keep you guys on your toes. You were getting a little too comfortable for my tastes. We needed some chaos. I cannot be blamed for what grows in the aftermath.

“Why do you insist on bringing that thing inside?” Regulus asked, grimacing faintly as he gazed the massive grimm sitting on their kitchen floor.

Harry smiled up at him, the conniving little brat, and continued petting it.

“He likes me,” the boy said, the animal’s tail thumping on the floor twice in agreement.

Regulus eyed it suspiciously from his place by the wall. The walking omen of death liked his son. “Wonderful,” he murmured, deciding to put that aside for now and just ignore the beast.

He walked further into the kitchen, running an affectionate hand through Harry’s nest of hair as he went to the kettle. He could feel the weight of the grimm’s eyes on him, but resisted the urge to tense under the too-intelligent scrutiny.

It had been following them for two days now, and other than the initial attack it had launched, it had not made a move against him. He refused to be intimidated by a dog.

“I’m going to get ready for the trip,” Harry told him, hopping off his chair. He looked down at the grimm, “Stay, I’ll be right back.” Then he trotted off.

Regulus watched him go, taking a deep drink from his mug and closing his eyes as the warmth spread through him.

It was peaceful for a moment, but then something scraped against the tiles. Regulus’ eyes snapped open and stared as the grimm approached him slowly.

It was a sickly thing, too thin and dirty, fur matted with what had to be blood and other unmentionables. It was filthy. What enamoured Harry with it so, he would never know.

The thing sat down a few feet from Regulus, watching him silently. He scowled, gripping his mug defensively. “You better be here because someone else in this stupid building is about to die,” he said, hunching slightly, “I’ve had quite enough brushes with death, I think.”

He drained the mug, placing it in the water-filled sink and quickly washing it with the cloth Harry had left dripping on the bench. Unbidden, Regulus smiled in fond exasperation. “Harry!” He shouted, voice booming in the relative quiet.

“What?” Echoed back.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to leave sopping wet cloths on the bench? You’ll make marks!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” The indignation in the boy’s tone was perfectly clear despite the distance.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Regulus muttered.

#morgoona-larson #The Lone Wolf Dies (But The Pack Survives)#Regulus raises Harry AU

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today-only-happens-once · 7 years ago

Text

Lost and Found

Title: Lost and Found

Word count: 2022

Summary: High School AU. “Patton had always thought Roman had this way of filling every room he entered, but standing here on the porch Roman looks like he can barely fill the shoes he’s standing in.” Platonic Royality.

Warnings: angst/hurt/comfort, vague nods to an abusive home, crying, extremely light/brief cursing, let me know if I missed anything (and sorry if I did!)

A/N: Have some emotional angst for the sunshine pair, I guess? One of my shorter fics and even though I got a little emotional at times writing it, I’m not sure how well it translated in writing. Sometimes that’s just how it goes. I hope this turned out okay. Super nervous to post it, but when aren’t I? Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine.

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @lizaelsparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @candiukas, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @fingergunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34

Patton Foster hears the doorbell ring from downstairs and frowns at the clock. 11:00 PM. Who was coming to his house so late at night?

His mom isn’t home anyway, and Patton debates whether or not to answer the door. He pushes the blankets off his legs and sets his history textbook beside his lap before padding over to his bedroom window. It’s raining outside, and dark, but he peers through the blinds anyway. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees none other than Roman Prince standing at his doorstep. Patton doesn’t see his car in the driveway or on the street. A backpack is slung over one shoulder. His hair is sopping wet, and he doesn’t seem to be wearing a jacket.

Patton rushes out of his room and down the steps, worry twisting his stomach. What the hell was Roman doing at his house at this hour? On a school night?

“Coming!” Patton announces as he hurries down the steps to the front door. He quickly unlocks it. “Roman, what are you doing here?” The question spills out his mouth almost before the door is open.

Roman looks up and Patton freezes. His eyes are rimmed red, and even in the dark Patton notices how pale he looks. Roman looks absolutely drenched, his bangs plastered to his forehead from the rain. Patton had always thought Roman had this way of filling every room he entered, but standing here on the porch Roman looks like he can barely fill the shoes he’s standing in.

He flashes something that Patton thinks is supposed to be a smile. “Hey, Patton.”

“Hey,” Patton says in a concerned voice, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the house. “You’re soaked.”

The young teen trips over his own feet as he stumbles in. Patton steadies him with a hand on his elbow. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake,” Roman half mumbles. “I just…” The thought lingers, unfinished.

Patton chews quietly on his lip as he gently guides Roman over to the couch. “Don’t even worry about it, kiddo,” he says, the tone several pounds lighter than the weight in his stomach. “Get those shoes off. I’ll grab you a towel so you can dry off a bit.”

“You—I—“ Roman stops suddenly. He takes in a breath that doesn’t sound entirely steady to Patton. Then he gives him a smile that looks a little too much like a grimace. “Thank you,” he says, much softer.

Patton swallows, offers a smile of his own that he hopes is reassuring, and leaves the living room to grab a towel from down the hall. He stops for a moment before opening the door to the closet, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He hadn’t even thought to check if Roman had maybe said something in a text or tried to call him…

Ro 👑

U home?

It had been sent maybe a minute or two before he’d rang the doorbell. No missed calls, and no other texts. Patton thinks briefly about texting either Logan or Virgil, but he wouldn’t even know what to tell them, or if Roman would be okay with them knowing he was here. So for now, Patton slips the phone back into his pocket, grabs a blue towel, and heads back to the living room.

“I’m, uh—“ Roman coughs awkwardly as he takes the towel from Patton’s outstretched hand, “Sorry about just… dropping by like this.” He won’t look Patton in the eyes, and it suddenly occurs to him that Roman hasn’t looked him in the eye since Patton first opened the door.

He glances at the backpack—now sitting on the floor beside Roman’s feet—and then back at the young teen. “You don’t need to apologize,” Patton assures him. “Studying by myself is no fun, anyway.”

The tentative silence that swallows his words at the end feels like a void that Patton has to fill. Roman is sitting on his couch with a towel in his hands looking smaller than Patton can ever remember seeing him. If the couch could swallow him whole, Patton is pretty sure Roman would let it.

Patton slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I… was going to make some tea. Do you want some?”

Roman takes a breath as if he’s going to say something, then sighs and nods. The corner of his mouth twitches as if he feels obligated to try to smile. Patton’s heart twists, but he ducks into the kitchen anyway and busies himself with heating water. He rifles through the countless mugs on the shelf and pulls out one that he hopes might get a smile out of Roman. At this point, he’ll try just about anything.

Patton drops the teabags into the steaming cups and adds two spoons of sugar to Roman’s before heading back out to the living room with both mugs in hand.

“Since you’re, y’know, our guest,” Patton says as he hands the mug—painted to look identical to Chip from Beauty and the Beast—to Roman, “I thought this was a fitting cup choice.” Patton sees the faintest spark of humor alight in his friend’s eyes and counts it as a win.

“Thank you,” Roman replies. He curls both hands around the small teacup. Patton is faintly pleased to see that his face is dry now, and the towel is around his shoulders.

The rain on the roof is a steady stream of white noise, the occasional distant rumble of thunder keeping track of the passing time. The storm sounds heavy, in that calming sort of way that always soothed something inside of Patton.

He lets the silence stretch between them for a while as he sits on the far side of the couch. He keeps a close eye on Roman between sips of tea. He’s curled around himself with exhaustion, but his leg bounces with a tense kind of energy. Roman looks like someone who has been running for too long but is still ready to make a break for it. Patton doesn’t know what he’s trying to out-run, but more than anything, he wants Roman to know that it’s okay to stop.

So Patton stays quiet, and lets him catch his breath.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed—ten minutes, maybe fifteen?—when he realizes that the backpack at Roman’s feet isn’t the same one he usually brought to school. It’s the same color, but a little bit bigger and definitely stuffed full of something. His eyes flit quickly back up to look at Roman.

He looks lost. His gaze flits around the room like he’s looking for a place to fit.

“I’m not sure when my mom will be home,” Patton says in a soft, gentle voice. “So if you want to take my bed so that she doesn’t wake you up when she comes home, I don’t mind.”

Roman blinks quickly and shakes his head. “Oh, Patton, I couldn’t possibly stay—“

“Nonsense,” Patton tells him easily. “You didn’t appear to drive here, and there’s no way I’m letting you walk home—,” Roman takes in a breath—“in this storm.”

“No, really,” Roman insists, setting the cup on the coffee table in front of him. “I shouldn’t have even stopped by, it’s so late—“

“It’s not that late—“ Patton sets his own cup on the table as well.

“—I just didn’t really know where to go. I mean, I was just walking and then ended up here—“

“Roman—“

Roman is speaking faster now, his voice getting higher almost like he’s panicking. “—But that’s hardly an excuse, and I didn’t even ask or anything, I just thought I could maybe stop by and, I don’t know—“

“You know you’re always welcome here—“

Roman stands up and grabs the strap of his backpack. “—I can’t stay, though, I mean, I don’t want to waste space here too—“

“Roman, wait.” Patton’s hand shoots out.

Roman flinches like he’s expecting to be hit.

Patton freezes. It’s in the next moment that he sees Roman’s eyes brim with tears. The sight squeezes Patton’s chest hard enough to hurt.

“Roman…” Patton tries, but he has no words.

“I…” Roman’s breath trembles as he drags it into his lungs. He brushes the back of his hand across his eyes. “I’m sorry.” The backpack thuds to the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

Patton pushes himself to his feet. “Hey,” he says, so softly it’s almost a whisper. He steps around the coffee table to stand in front of his friend. “No, Roman. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“They kicked me out, Patton. I’m—“ The words choke in Roman’s throat. A broken sob replaces them. Patton thinks he can feel his heart splintering.

Patton swallows down the helplessness he can feel clawing up his throat. “Stay here,” he says, and something sounds wrong in his voice—it sounds too tight, too pained to be his own—but he means the offer sincerely.

“Patton, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

Patton swallows hard. “Why not?”

Roman’s hands curl into fists at his sides. “I just… I can’t, okay? They said I’m a waste of space in my own home, Patton—“

“They lied to you,” Patton cuts in, firm.

“But what if they didn’t, huh?” Roman snarls, throwing his hands up. “What if they were right to not want me? All I ever wanted was to just… to just…” He can’t finish the thought, but he doesn’t need to. Roman meets Patton’s eyes—fear and desperation etched into his irises like broken shards of glass—and Patton knows exactly what lies unspoken at the end of that sentence.

Patton holds his gaze for a long, quiet moment.

“Roman Prince, I need you to listen to me,” he says in a quiet voice. He takes a step closer and slowly, gently, places his hands on Roman’s shoulders. “You are never a waste of space. Okay?”

Roman squeezes his eyes shut and Patton softly brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “Patton—“

“You’re accepted here,” Patton continues. “You are celebrated here. Just as you are. You have people who care about you. You do. For as long as we’ve known you, you have been so important to us. You are wanted. You are worthy. You are, you are, you are, you are,” he whispers emphatically. Patton brushes away Roman’s tears with the pad of his thumb. “You are so deeply and greatly and gently loved, Roman.”

Roman makes a sound that is something between a sob and a laugh. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Then stay.” Patton offers a small, lopsided smile and pretends that the edges of his own vision aren’t blurring with tears too. “Stay here.”

Roman sniffles, glancing at Patton through red, watery, exhausted eyes. “I’m not taking your bed,” he says, managing a faint smile of his own, and Patton feels his heart leap at what the words mean. Roman will stay. And things won’t be fixed in the morning but at least Roman has a place to feel found instead of lost.

“Yes, you are,” Patton argues lightheartedly, wiping at his own tears. “You’re going to sleep in my bed to ensure you get a decent night’s rest, Roman, or so help me I will physically fight you.”

Roman holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, Padrè. Take it easy.” There’s something soft, something still vulnerable, in Roman’s eyes. He lowers his hands a moment later. “Thank you, Patton,” he says, and Patton knows without asking that he isn’t just thanking him for the bed.

“Any time, Roman.”

#sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #platonic royality #royality fanfiction #roman sanders angst #angst #crying #hurt/comfort #cursing #abuse #aaaaaaaaaaa why is always scary to post fanfics #i really dont know if the emotions translated how i am hoping they did or not #*covers my eyes as i hit post*

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