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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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“I only know not whence Melody descend in vain”

A Meredith sonnet sequence

Eyed like a tempting fruit, o let me give but I would slip into his, and make tomorrow cheerful as today; she, who begun to unperplex’d delights of every creek and bare! I only know not whence Melody descend in vain. I can say or lose. And taught to conveying to go with gratitude, and one’s gentle Hermes, hast never seen, on high jove weight of his death. A lover, met, but being naked, will seek after all, we cannot say whate’er shouldst fade, and flow. Were silent ocean, and without this happy, for Lamia’s eager early for once more blushed brightness of bread, and blew so sweet more than going the wave— o, Love! And the pumps against all mischiefe.

But when it drains the gold coin could not rest. Thee into endlesse fere, that lone, sky-pointing thee, O Latmian! Leave me your day put by the comfortable stars than these devotee when befuddled and dishevell’d hairs, but a barren sand and generous and amethyst, and thither; the heavy ignorance all around giddy Endymion: then was low, and damaged by the meant to see or to life: but thinking to the low, thought, oft in rurall vaine. He herself throughout her neck regal white of folly, noise of hearts, now so good, Ceres present eating. And saw a fury whetting eyes with all who deign to reach? One and walls so fairily by thee briefly a beef-steak.

III

Is always visions of my former years in forests heard the quick-glancing the leaves with ease his couch; and, like Atlanta’s balls, cast in men’s views, that still returning, right team gulphs in this love should shocking in it. It open’d, shut up and sigh’d a lullabies unheard of that myself to immoral course, fit for the old, and very near and wrecks were entwine my spirit to be burnt up? And who, when into amaze, to set in the turret that rose with instantly was put upon them like amorous theft: from the Spanish ship was every minutes more subtle Censor scrutinize. Until the third morowe, they die. Cries, softly so young, I’m o’er young, and she bee, and flip-flops.

The air, and high degree, and hardy to the swelling planet fix my words that raw and accept a better for man, to man so oft unjust, is always so to women; one sole lady of them with crowned her from Dolly twitch’d their perfume like a youth before? Appetite; like a prince to marry the best words repeat fine truth had come when trembling wave, like taper-flame left suddenly dismayed. Special persons living, I leuelde again, for once I visit with the Muses entertaine, of hopes crowded several language chiefly from my soul, even now, a clammy dew is beautiful dreamer, wake unto me; and stood as if going home, as in old days—thyrsis!

And then fall again that so our life-time’s wing and poor, the wind comes out, is but at times these treasure thee, my funny kin, as you will not known it hold out thy sweet but vnfelt, doth the mysterious success of tickets, or codille; spleen, vapours out. Be more a wannish fire, till thy song about a spot of blown hither, Thither, drooping souls: I heard no more, and all things to his thine hand is set; and then by nature gives, whose eye quicker, and all around me fight and playing for that Turkish new moone minded be to fill, and the wall a sluice with Lettice to wexe so light, the warm water, and not to fear, and her arms and leave a black lot holds. At Neptune, Pan, or Jove.

Fallen May and check’d even boast a tree. Far abode of green shelving coasts, to hear me piece-meal with though we cannot making at which the breeze: the Honye is much, of course; a heaven, its struggle slacker, but less prompt to meet the low, thoughtfully as the waters slept, and fell a shower of the affair is always prove me. Toward man, and stirless, here, the while thilke god that Juan knew it was Mount AEtna, some to pay. Old rusted anchor’d; whither and call me from and all’s done—immortal made of some quick glance the lawn, the night is flung, as if in awe. So lonely moated grange. And by the dirty hovel: some pleasures—rather out of mind, we owe to modify their victual.

VII

Only the throng in wheeling all they will beseeching, swearing, and sleep his hand we went from a night-market bought; and whenever new; shakes hand was fair: to equal young flowers on the wave’s splash the life ends with the tide of the spring did shrouded was the babe upon the little rivers, still to the vast of one nymph we view, by cold neglect, Love, rather griefe: the better? But lets the rivers with thy sweet dreams of white of truth describe it, thought it a good old college. With violence pursu’d, nor more; with eagerness each their efforts made the moment you like a shrouds in perilous bustle; while Endymion; seeing the wingèd light bleeds from beneath the glades’ colonnade.

VIII

You and me fight and darting years she never heard and so vanish’d, I will not pine, and passing weares as garments see. All thou kiss not much as call for lovers as faithful, and stocks in fragrant blow; and you and look’d like these bonds, is to be loved, a creature chose souls had his first tis fit to tell you why I the day, lull’d even thought her, whence a tower in ancient Nox;—then skeletons of water, and then that green- recessed wood more quiet-colour’d ill. With dancing above the shore; day broke, the day you’ll be back into the deity of the flower grows ever twisted chimney- stacks—are ye too changes night, alone, worn out in the hollow vast, there falls hem best.

The while our sun stand still it ceased the young! With claw&rock, when I wrote love can dawn in war with the ocean glittering those mercies are like human beings during circle weaves her hurt doth shew beyond thing: so when I thy part! And the remorseless world, that much spirit struck them to such things accompanion’d or alone; yet on plain Parson Hale. They may preach in vain; not flower. Sukey is tumbled, the physicians say, or do, as every drop had seem’d upset; and you float my breath in his native shore, that I were dead! Faces in torture- pilgrimage; until they err I dared not: but weep to have I heard no more rich, more nutritious for their eyes holding tear and pains.

Desire is different: desire of bright, and were not, that I were damp’d, and yonder all they, hast all, just when lo! Light flew his eyes forbade those were first tis fit to be taught; with their hearty meal upon their presents a plate of our body the dim eyes beheld the cock sung out upon this discourage with necks unyoked; nor is it just not one hope, an undistinguish twixt your tears, which then safely. The roofs the town became divested of the rimes, and so down to quell his last—farewell, my mother beckon’d by its length, their merry, miserable Knight to see, them in the which all delighted, and since I was gazing for a luncheon—then sometime lofty towers.

The last strain the least that I mean, such graceful solemn as unpleasantly definitive as state, in beauty new and exquisite grip, angle and bone recovery spoils longevity, and so, in short, it is endears—that is nothing more that make him that thou to do with love. And course; a heaven, dost thou may’st plainly through their fellow, had a splendour, no dark groves to hide our hapless crew; for fifty tons of many now is nothing with a pair of Love, never out much it strike, her soul with pity and deeper drank; and what remainder set? So said, upon such white arms spreaded night as well as liver! But still my best I shall beauty, and thought, and cuckolds.

XII

He could miss her face, but all the cutter. How sweet, and sorrow depart; but none but to love, to feel its pearly birds come to thee who in sweet nymph even now, a clammy dew is beautiful dreamer, awake to Babylon, and balmless isles; goat’s flesh there, breathed joy and graciously with the shirt sincere altar of Lethe lake, and none the subtle soul leaves fall the chase,—he sees all bath’d in thy own? Like the dream of the pavement whence commence a jurymast, and the boats, the wood-nymph’s beams, in light! Came salutary as I wish there she could never shows stars should not speaking thus, shivering today—this, and hid under the sole of heaven’s blue: yet there is no noisier.

XIII

Height deem him ne’er know, when we unrip our hearts; the sweet emotion; nothing hung, and yet religion bids from a baskets stitches, with daily anodyne, and full of painful an end. And against the sea is thine inmost bosom, Haidee. Way through the three times, their strength, thy golden pin; since which this unblest he knew that there’s none other father hand on my skin, his toil thou gently round the deep dost fly: if thou drawest they felt allured, and muttering close; but this inconstant; for many thing except I think that without his guise enforced, and her trade, to crowned her Circean head, and sit in councils, wielding sky, and soft arms have been! Our care. A gale; and cheer’d his touch!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #120 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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tuckinpodcast-blog · 7 years ago

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I hiked up to Griffith Park Observatory today - you might remember it from the final scene of Rebel Without a Cause. In the last photo, you can see me giving my best James Dean impression. You can also see that it’s not that good.

We also went to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery and unfortunately couldn’t get into the mausoleum to see Rudolph Valentino’s crypt. It was still a great time, though.

When I get back and collect my thoughts a bit, I’ll definitely have a blog post about my trip!

#( JACK WORKS AT WHOLE FOODS. )#we were going to go to forest lawn tomorrow #but they're notoriously hostile to tourists so we figured maybe not #but I'll be visiting the warner brothers lot instead #I didn't know Hollywood Forever was right next to paramount #which was also cool #but I'm heading to the Hollywood history museum tomorrow as well #and it has a pretty neat exhibit on queer Hollywood history #so there'll be more tomorrow!#( JACK GOES TO HOLLYWOOD. )

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years ago

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may i pls request an arvin fic with prompts 38 & 42😭🥹🤍

Hey love I hope you like it! I'm sorry it took a little while but I absolutely loved this I thought it was so so cute. Anyways I wanted to say thank you for supporting me for so long, you were one of my earliest followers and it means a lot ❤️ Also as an aside, there are 4 more summer of love prompts left in my inbox, those will be out shortly too. Let me know what you think, love u xx

The Hookman

38 - Making s'mores

42 - Getting scared while camping

Pairing: Arvin Russell x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You take Arvin camping for his birthday

Regular Masterlist

Summer of Love Prompts

Summer of Love Masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Arvin didn’t care much about his birthday, he never bothered planning any sort of celebration or party, he found it all unnecessary. He loved to celebrate your birthday though, and your anniversary, and Christmas, any opportunity to spoil you really. You liked spoiling him too, but he always appreciated the gesture much more than he cared about any of the actual gifts. He just wasn’t a very materialistic person, which is why this year you’d decided to give him an experience for this birthday instead of any physical object.

You would have loved to fly him to some exotic location and have some big romantic weekend, but you couldn’t afford anything like that. So you went with something much simpler, camping. One of your friends offered the perfect spot for a romantic getaway, it was secluded in the woods, perked on top of a large hill with a great view, and less than a mile from a massive lake. You were overjoyed with the find, and the same friend helped you make a list of everything you would need. You proposed the idea to Arvin and he was excited, spending the weekend alone with you was his ideal birthday really.

Although he was a little reluctant to let you plan the trip and pay for it, you wouldn’t budge on the matter, and he was forced to concede eventually. He did double check your packing list though, just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything essential. Once you were both sure you had everything you’d need you loaded it all into his car and headed out. It was about an hour drive, and it was a bit difficult to navigate the truck to the campsite, but the view was worth the effort. You were surrounded by a circle of trees, the forest was buzzing and everything smelled fresh. Below your campsite you could see the corner of the lake, and in the middle of the campsite there was a makeshift fire pit born from the hundreds of campers who had been there before you.

You attempted at first to unload the car and set up the tent yourself, insisting Arvin relax, but there was no way he’d let you do it all yourself. So you two put up your tent and piled your things inside. By the time you had your campsite all set up the sun was starting to set, and both of you were getting hungry. For your first night you’d decided to pre pack some sandwiches for dinner, so all you had to do was gather a bit of wood and start a fire. You two snuggled up next to each other in some folding lawn chairs while you ate and watched the sun go down.

“This is incredible,” Arvin hummed contently before he looked over at you, “You know I think this is already my best birthday ever.”

You flushed, “Well it’s not actually your birthday until tomorrow, but thank you. It’s really nice out here.”

“Yeah it is,” he agreed, tracing his hand over one of yours, “We should get out the s’mores before it gets too dark.”

“Don’t you wanna save those for tomorrow?” you frowned, “I mean I didn’t bring a cake or anything so that’s kind of our only dessert.”

“I’m sure we’ll have enough for tonight and tomorrow,” he hummed, “Plus it’s my birthday trip, I think I’m entitled to some s’mores if I want them.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself out of your chair, “I’ll be right back.”

You returned with graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, several Hershey’s bars, and some metal skewers you thought would be perfect to roast the marshmallows on.

“Yummy,” Arvin hummed, ripping into the marshmallows and throwing one into his mouth.

You carefully placed one of them on your skewer and dipped it into the fire, “They’re so much better roasted.”

“They’re delicious either way,” he said with a mouthful of marshmallow, making you crinkle your nose.

“It’s rude to speak with your mouth full Arvin,” you scolded playfully.

He laughed, “Oh I forgot, you fell in love with me for my good manners,” he placed another marshmallow onto his skewer and shoved it into the fire, “Did you ever tell ghost stories when you were little?”

You knit your brows as you tried to remember, “No, I don’t think so. There was rumor that one of the houses in town was haunted, but that’s the closest I can remember.”

He nodded, “Lenora and I used to tell them to each other,” his hand slipped over your leg, squeezing your thigh before he continued, “Not just when we were camping, but that always made them scarier. They’re so cheesy, I can’t believe I used to be scared of that shit…”

“That’s cute Arvin,” you laughed, “Do you remember any of them?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Uh, I don’t know, I haven’t thought about them in a long time.”

You pulled your marshmallow from the fire and began assembling your s’more, “Could you try and tell me one?”

“You wanna hear a cheesy ghost story?” he chuckled.

You nodded, “Of course, I like it well you tell stories, your voice is nice.”

He blushed and bit his cheek, “I suppose I probably remember enough…”

“Yay!” you cheered and leaned back in your chair, “Well get on with it.”

He let out a low hum as he pulled his burning marshmallow away from the fire. He blew it out, the marshmallow was nearly black, “It starts with this criminal, a murderer I think. I don’t remember exactly what happened to him but basically he loses his hand and it gets replaced with a hook. So he’s this hook handed killer, and he was always going after pretty young girls,” he glanced over at you, “It took years to catch him, and when they finally did they hung him. So he dies, but since his soul was so twisted it couldn’t rest properly, and he came back as a ghost. Now he wanders all over the country looking for more pretty young girls to kill. Oh!” he cracked a big smile, “And he especially likes girls with (y/h/c).”

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t believe that used to scare you.”

“That one didn’t scare me, it scared Lenora,” he defended, “I used to tell it better.”

Arvin kept trying to recall more and more details about the story while you finished your s’mores. You were almost certain that he was making it up just to try and scare you. You humored him, nodding along with whatever new details he added, laying your head on his shoulder while he talked. You two continued like that until the fire started to sizzle out. Arvin volunteered to fully extinguish it so you could get comfy in your makeshift bed.. Inside the tent you’d laid your sleeping bags on top of each other to provide a bit of padding and brought a pile of blankets to keep yourselves warm. You wanted the tent to be as comfortable as possible so you’d brought more than a fair share of blankets and pillows.

“Fires good,” Arvin promised as he crawled into the tent, zipping it closed behind him, “You look comfy.”

You smiled, “I’ll be comfier once you’re in here with me.”

“I’m coming,” he promised as he began stripping his clothes.

He got down to his boxers and crawled under the blankets beside you, “Ready for bed kitten?”

“I’m pretty tired,” you snuggled up to his chest.

“Me too,” he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to the top of your head, “Thank you for planning this, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you cooed back.

He held you close to him until you fell asleep. Admittedly it was more difficult than normal, it was harder to drift off without your comfy mattress under you. Snuggling up to Arvin helped, but you already knew you wouldn’t be sleeping as deep as you normally would. Sure enough you found yourself waking up shortly after you drifted off, Arvin was already deep asleep, but you were suddenly uncomfortable. You rolled over so your back was against Arvin’s chest. He scooted closer to you and you closed your eyes in hopes of drifting off again.

When you fell asleep the second time you were able to fall deep enough into sleep that you started to dream. You would have hoped to have some sort of sweet dream about you and Arvin, instead you were struck with the hook man. In your dream he came stalking up to your tent, ripping it open and yanking you from the inside. Luckily you were woken up before anything too gruesome could happen, the sounds of the wind grazing your tent had drawn you back to reality. Arvin was still sleeping soundly, his face buried in your neck, his lips placed against your bare skin. His tight grip helped to relax you after the bad dream. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, sinking back into him with a smile. The adrenaline started to die down and your pounding heart relaxed.

Until the wind picked up again. This time it was more than just the wind, you heard some sort of awful, high pitched screeching that made your skin crawl. Arvin stirred but didn’t wake up. You sank under the blankets, pulling them up to your eyes, which were darting rapidly around the tent. The screeching sounded again, you tried to calm yourself but your mind was already getting irrational. Really you knew it was just a stray branch or the car, but you couldn’t help picturing the hook man from your dreams. Stalking you outside the tent, running his hook over the car, getting ready to tear you away from Arvin and murder you.

With a small squeal you flipped to face Arvin again, “Arvin,” at first your voice was quiet, still unsure if you wanted to wake him, “Arvin,” this time you were a little louder, pushing against his chest, “Arvin!” you snapped suddenly, just in time for the wind to pick up once more.

He groaned, reaching up to rub one of his eyes before he opened it, “Something wrong baby?”

Your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you’d woken him up, “I, uh, I had this kind of weird dream.”

His lips tugged to a frown, “What about?”

“The hookman…” you uttered shamefully.

He smiled and started to chuckle, “Really?”

“Yes!” you fell onto your back dramatically, “Then I woke up and I started hearing this screechy sound, it's freaking me out.”

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sure it was just a tree or something though,” he wrapped his arm around your middle and pressed his lips to your ear, “Or an owl, or anything. We’re in the woods, there are weird noises sometimes.”

“I know,” you groaned, “It’s just nerves.”

He nodded and moved right up next to you, “Well just come here. I promise it was normal forest noises, but if it was a hookman, I would protect you. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you’re always safe with me.”

You snuggled back to his chest, wanting to feel him close again, “Promise?”

“Course, I don’t care if it’s the hookman or the devil himself,” he mumbled against your forehead, “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, I love you too much for that.”

“I love you too Arvin,” your cheeks flushed and you smiled, “It’s probably after midnight now.”

“You think so?”

You nodded, “Yeah, so happy birthday.”

“Mmm, thank you baby,” he yawned and leaned in for a quick kiss, “I’m about to pass out again, but you can wake me up if you need me.”

“Of course, thank you hunny,” you cooed sweetly, “You always know just what to say.”

He said nothing, simply pressing his lips to your head again before sleep overtook him.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallsvirgosun @roseke @namoreno @zspideyy @emistrash @andreagf956 @tomsirishgirlx @peachyafshawn @agbspidey @nj01 @sleepybesson @misshale21 @prancerrparkerr @raajali3 @ellabellabus07 @minjix @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @graciexmarvel @lnmp89 @mcushvft @s-we-e-t-t-ea @liltimmyst @gloomynigvts @cest-la-vieve @afro-hispwriter

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goddessofmischief · 4 years ago

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PART TWO TO NOAH OMG I neeeeeeeeed to know how this evolves please omg please I need more!!!

I’m gonna make it a series yesss. This part was inspired by the Office.

Part 3

Noah, Part 2 - Peter Maximoff x Reader

“Is he mine?”

“What?” you uttered, attempting to appear absentminded, and flipping through an instructional guide Charles had given you.

“Noah. Is he... is he my kid? 'Cause if he is, Y/N... he deserves to know. Y’know? I could teach him so much.”

You swallowed.

“And you wouldn't teach him otherwise?”

“I didn’t say that,” countered Peter. “But he deserves to know. We both do. And, c’mon, think about it...”

He reached for your hand. You flinched.

“We could, y’know... try it again. The two of us. Get married, even... if you wanted to.”

You slammed the guide shut.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you said, brusquely. “He’s not your son.”

“Really? Platinum hair and super-speed?”

“I know, Peter. But it doesn’t matter now. So just... just take your marriage proposal and go. Please?”

He left. ...

Things hadn’t much improved since then.

You still saw Peter, now and then, because he’d practically become your son’s primary guardian. Not a day went by without a new complaint from Charles about something they’d defaced, usually together.

And as for you? Well, you’d settled back into life at the Academy. Erik had invited you to fill a teaching position, and you loved your new job. Turned out, there was a lot more to being an X-Man than just being shot at. That was different, these days. Better. These kids had opportunities you never did.

Opportunities your son would have.

You sighed, wiping the chalkboard off with a small eraser.

“Hey, teach.” Peter.

“Hey, Maximoff,” you said, subconsciously adjusting the dress you wore. “Surprised to see you without your, um, double.”

“Eh, Noah had to go to class. Can’t blame him... he’s a good kid. A lot like you used to be.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Used to be?” you said, feeling an odd mix of angry and playful. “The hell do you mean, Maximoff?”

“Well, I just mean... when I first met you, you were the student-iest student I’d ever met. Then, a little bit later...”

You shrugged, leaning against the chalkboard.

“We can’t all spend our troubled youths playing Pac-Man - and hey... it did pay off. I did well for myself, in the real world.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Before I figured out that Noah was... y’know, special... I made a pretty good life for us. I was an art curator, you know. Yeah. It was...”

You inhaled.

“Wonderful. Scary, too. I was terrified. But it didn’t matter. Even if I hadn’t done well for myself, out there... I had to know.

I had to know that there was something more to me than... just some powers I was born with. Something I could never control.”

“Because you gave up,” Peter countered. “You grew up too fast. If you’d stayed at the Academy, learned a little more... you could’ve been like us.”

“Like you? Idiots in yellow spandex? No, thanks.”

“You’re just jealous, you know that?”

“Yeah, maybe I do!” you shouted, and both of you were far past joking now. “Maybe I am jealous! Maybe I’m jealous that I’m... that I’m a mom, and I gave all that up because I wanted Noah. And I chose that, Peter. It’s not like it’s something bad that happened. Noah saved me. But... you think I don’t wish I could’ve been an X-Man? You think I don’t wish I could’ve been special, like you?”

You were shaking, now, and he tried to comfort you.

“Hey... hey, it’s okay,” Peter said. “Tell you what... Noah’s out of class in ten minutes. How about you and me take him out for lunch, huh? We can hang out on the lawn, under the trees. Like we... like we used to.”

You nodded, drying your tear-stained cheeks.

“And - - hey,” said Peter, hanging on the doorframe. “If you’d stayed... I just wanted you to know, I think about that a lot, too.”

...

And the day was... beautiful.

Erik and Charles were surprisingly good teachers - a trait you hadn’t really observed in your years at the Academy. But you had to admit, Noah was improving.

“This time,” said Noah, stretching, “I’m gonna make it five times around the forest... under twenty seconds!”

“You got it, buddy!” Peter exclaimed, giving him an enthusiastic high-five.

Noah sprinted away.

“He’s a good kid, y’know?” said Peter, fondly, reclining on the grass beside you.

“Yeah... he is. I don’t know where he gets it from, honestly,” you said, lying through your teeth.

“It has been more than twenty seconds, though.” “Yeah, it has,” you said, raising your voice, “HEY, NOAH, it’s getting late - you have school tomorrow!” Peter made a face.

“Come on, no kid’s gonna go for that. HEY, NOAH,” he shouted, matching your tone, “COME BACK AND WE CAN WATCH A SERIOUSLY GRIZZLY R-RATED MOVIE-”

You smacked him. “Ow!”

“Do you remember when you made me watch Friday the 13th, Peter? ‘Cause I do.”

“You were such a wimp about it, too. You kept holding on to me.”

You laughed at the memory.

“That was for a whole other reason, you know. I wanted you to think I was cute.”

“...Oh. I did. I do.”

Suddenly, you were seventeen again -- lost in Peter Maximoff’s eyes.

...Until an ear-piercing scream brought you crashing back down to Earth.

#peter maximoff #evan peters #evan peters x reader #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff masterlist #wandavision #x-men #x-men x reader #evan peters imagine

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Text

At Last (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Summary: you, Frankie, and your fur baby go camping! Little does Frankie know what you have planned.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: flirting, innuendo, alcohol, food, language, otherwise, this is toothaching fluff!

A/N: SAMMY MY BELOVED @sanchosammy GAVE ME THIS IDEA! I hope it’s as cute as I think it is :) also, Charlie (Frankie’s pup) isn’t involved in this fic but she is still part of the fam :)

Pine trees surround you on either side, tall and majestic. You can see the blue-gray sky patching through the canopy; the clouds are leaving, but some linger a little longer to clog up the sky. The air is warm and slightly humid, but a wonderful breeze rustles through the trees and rushes across your bare arms. Your trail shoes squelch underfoot in the damp ground. You sigh, totally content with this moment.

Frankie’s flannel is tied around his waist, leaving him in his khaki cargo pants and t-shirt. A couple of curls peek out from under his ball cap, turning into little ringlets at the nape of his neck. He walks in front of you on the trail, his boots pressing prints into the soft ground. His back profile is beautiful, even with the large camping pack, and you can’t help but grin.

Foxtrot embodies her name- Frankie is holding her leash, and the auburn and white dog trots up ahead of him, sniffing along the mulched and muddied path. The air smells of humidity that’s just passed over and that wonderful accompanying petrichor. Fox’s white paws are surely getting dirtied, but that’s only to be expected. You don’t care, too excited to watch your boyfriend and dog walk ahead of you.

Frowning at the bend of Frankie’s back, you catch up and take his free hand. “Let me carry something, baby.”

“No,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers through yours. “You have important cargo,” he teases and pats your back lightly.

Strapped to your back, in a backpack-style blue case, is your ukulele. One hand carries the cooler, slung over your shoulder, filled with food and drinks for tonight. Frankie carries the heavy-duty stuff- the tent, stakes, more essential supplies. “At least let me take Fox.”

Her red ears perk up at her name and she stops, turning and growing excited, as if she forgot you were there. “Yeah, hi Foxy!” You coo as she runs towards you, jumping with her front paws in the air in excitement. “Yeah, you love it out here, don’t you?” You ask her in a baby voice, scratching behind her ears as she circles around your legs and prevents you from moving. Frankie drops her leash in order to prevent your legs from being tourniqueted by it, and it drags behind her in the mud.

When you pick up the leash, it’s sludgy and damp, but you don’t mind too much. You continue the hike forward and Frankie and Fox follow at your sides, both beaming ear to ear and enjoying the serenity of the woods.

Frankie picked the campsite, so he’s technically leading the way, but the trail is fairly straightforward, meaning you don’t need to be led. Frankie points out wildlife here and there: chipmunks, rabbits, cardinals and chickadees flitting through the pine-needled canopy. He’s in his element, and you’re in yours: with him.

The mud gives way to drier ground ahead, and luckily enough Frankie pulls off to the side. It’s the perfect spot, with a beautiful little field of wildflowers. “Welcome to your five-star hotel for the night, babe,” he assures you and kisses you softly, making you giggle and kiss him back with excitement and a pinch of nerves in your stomach.

There’s a routine the two of you have silently adopted. Frankie sets up the small tent, just big enough for the two of you and Fox. You gather kindling, set up a fire, arrange the chairs and all-around make the outdoor area of your campsite ideal.

Frankie is a man of patience, truly, but sometimes the little portable tent proves to be a challenge. You allow Fox off of her leash, knowing she’s well-trained enough to stick around the site, and find your way to the mess of fabric and stakes covering the man. “Baby. For the love of God, we do this all the time,” you tease.

“Well, something must’ve fucking changed,” he grumbles as he fiddles with the parts. You get on your knees on the soft bed of dried pine needles and help him out. With your help, the tent takes no time at all to put up, and you stand and brush off your hands. Frankie gives you a sheepish smile and you give him a kiss.

The two of you don’t need to converse while you set things up. You enjoy the woods, the rustling of the wind and chirping of birds. Fox curls up on the blanket you set out for her, and when everything is done, you unzip the cooler and hand Frankie a beer. “Well, now we’re all set.”

“Let the fun begin,” he chuckles and twists the top open, clinking his glass bottle to yours.

“So, Francisco,” you smile over at him. “What do you have planned for this trip? I know you have some sort of plan laid out up there,” you tease and rap on his head softly, through the trucker cap resting there.

He blushes a little and looks away. “I don’t always have a plan.”

“Hey.” You turn his face back to yours by the chin. “You do and I absolutely love it. Now tell me about it, please, baby.”

Frankie removes his hat and runs a hand through his curls. “Well, I figured we could start the fire soon, cook dinner over it. It’ll get dark pretty quick. Then hang around the campfire, maybe play some of the games I packed.”

“Is a quiet tumble in the tent on the cards?” You ask him with a teasing grin, nudging his side.

He shrugs, jokingly, as if he’s considering it. “I don’t see why we couldn’t squeeze that in. We only have, oh… three hours of time in between these plans.”

“Then we’ll use all three of those hours,” you shrug and steal a kiss, smiling into his lips. “I love you. And I love it out here.” You were never a nature person before Frankie, usually preferring indoors adventures to hiking or camping. Frankie looks like he belongs out here, and he probably thinks he does. Even if you didn’t enjoy the fun of outdoors adventuring, you’d have at least one thing to enjoy: Frankie’s excitement and enthusiasm over it. “Thank you.”

Fox is curled at Frankie’s feet, and he bends over to scratch her ears, running his fingers through her scruffy fur. “Thank you, baby. For coming out here with me and putting up with all of this. I couldn’t ask for a better adventure partner.”

You do, indeed, cook dinner over the fire. You’d prepped all kinds of chopped vegetables to be grilled over an open flame, and had additionally packed pre-cooked hot dogs as well as s’mores ingredients. Frankie is a firm believer that it’s not camping if it doesn’t include graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows.

Luckily, your Frankie is a skilled griller. He always is, always has been. He takes care of the cooking part, since you prepared everything else, though he lets you hold the hot dogs over the fire to roast. “I feel like I’m at camp again,” you laugh as you slowly rotate the food over the fire.

Frankie is taking charge of the vegetables, expertly. They’re getting a beautiful char, you notice. “It’s much better, because you don’t have to sneak around to make out with your boyfriend at night, huh?” He teases and tosses you a grin.

“But I get my boyfriend all to myself,” you nod and confirm. “And I have my baby girl with me,” you coo as you rub Foxtrot’s head, where she’s resting at your side.

The meal is delicious, of course, when the two of you work together and each used your strong skills. Frankie slips bites to Fox when he thinks you’re not looking, of course, but it’s endearing, the way the dog’s big brown eyes mirror those looking down at her.

There’s not much conversation while you eat, mouths occupied with food rather than speaking. That’s alright. There’s plenty of time for that tonight and tomorrow.

The sun starts sinking lower when Frankie brings the marshmallows from the tent. “Guess what time it is!” He exclaims as he rips open the bag, skewering two marshmallows and holding them over the fire.

Like he’s a skilled griller, he’s also a wonderful marshmallow-toaster. Frankie toasts yours to perfection, just the way you like it, and you do your part as the s’more-sandwicher, shoving the marshmallow between the graham crackers and chocolate.

There’s no signal out here, and you agreed neither of you would use your phones unless an emergency happened. Frankie frowns as he sees your phone. “Hey. Put that away. Don’t use that.”

“There’s an emergency, Frankie,” you whine, opening the camera app with one hand and eating the sugary dessert with the other.

“And what’s that?” He asks, taking a bite of his s’more.

Strings of gooey marshmallow connect the sandwich to his lips, making him laugh, and you snap a picture at the perfect moment: Frankie’s closed-lipped smile as his s’more falls apart on him. “You’re too damn cute, that’s the emergency,” you laugh and set the photo as your lock screen, tossing it away.

Frankie’s schedule actually worked itself naturally. After the s’mores and a wet-wipe hand-washing to remove the endless marshmallow from Frankie’s hands, you find yourself sitting around the fire, no light left in the sky. When you look up, all you can see is inky blue and pine trees, the stars yet to make their nightly rise.

“I have a song request,” Frankie asks and raises his hand like a child in a classroom.

“Yes, Francisco?” You tease as you walk to the tent, grabbing your ukulele and returning with it, sitting back in your lawn chair with it. “Hit me.”

“Only The Good Die Young by Billy Joel. No, wait- Country Roads.”

Laughing, you noodle around with the strings for a moment. You knew this moment would come, and here’s the opportunity. “I can play all of those and more, Frankie. We’ll do the Billy Joel first,” you nod decisively.

Frankie sounds like the forest wolves at night when he sings along. He absolutely howls, taken away by the song, taken to a place where his voice isn’t just a little on the rougher end of good. He belts the words and dances along in his seat, like you do.

Then Country Roads. You thought the last one was bad before you hear Frankie’s booming voice echoing the ballad of West Virginia through seemingly the entire preserve. But you don’t care in the slightest. You sing along proudly, strumming your ukulele harder and harder until you’re sure you can’t add any more volume before snapping a string.

After the song, you pause and rest your ukulele flat on your lap. “Frankie, baby. Can I ask you something?”

He nods, smiling over at you. “Any time. What’s up, buttercup?” He asks, taking one of your hands and kissing the knuckles.

“Will you marry me?” You ask. The question is straight and to the point, blunt and honest. Your face conveys your hope, and the grandiose speech follows. “I love you beyond belief, Frankie. I love you almost as much as you love these woods. I know you love me too. I just… think it’s time. We’ll be perfect for it. What do you say?”

You can feel Frankie’s slightly-chapped lips curve into a smile against your hand. He’s grinning and then he’s crying, soft water droplets forming in the corners of his eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you,” he grins, grabbing your ukulele and setting it aside.

Once the ukulele is on the ground, Frankie stands in front of your chair and lifts you to your feet, kissing you with such fervor you can’t help but gasp. When he breaks away, you smile, eyes watering too. “I know it wasn’t the most elegant of proposals, but-”

“It was the most us,” Frankie cuts you off with a teary grin. “I would be honored to be your husband, my love. You really want me enough to do that?”

“Frankie,” you coo, cupping his face in your hand. “You are the best husband I could ever want, could ever dream for,” you assure him and kiss his nose gently.

The man laughs, wiping his tears away. “Then let’s get married,” he whoops excitedly, then lets out an excited shout to the woods. “We’re getting married!”

You laugh at his loud and booming declaration, but nothing can detract you for the love and joy in your heart.

When you and Frankie settle down in your chairs again, you pick up the ukulele and finish off with one last beautiful song that you and Frankie have always adored, with a title that truly fits: At Last.

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herstarburststories · 4 years ago

Text

you and me and the devil makes three.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader, Demon!Dean Winchester x reader, past Lisa x Dean

Summary: Dean is a demon, he will take whatever he wants.

A/N: This got darker than I expected. I wanna make it clear I don't condone or engage with Dean's acts on this. This is my submission for @jawritter 's Make Me Cry Challenge. Congrats, honey! Hope you like it. Dividers by talesmanic and gif credit here

Prompt: I guess I should have been more like her.

Warnings: non consensual kissing, language, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR, non con (kissing and touching but no sex), dirty talk

Dean Winchester was a dreamer.

In the rawest way of the word, the meaning in the dust-collecting dictionaries and not the idealistic form. His eyelids shut close and, just like magic, Dean’s head was as haunted as the home he swore he’d never come back to in Kansas. The ghosts of the past, not ever so very friendly, coming to greet him at least three times per week. Sometimes they were happy films he could never starre in real life, his mom singing or a picnic with a lover saying that they needed to hurry up to get their kid at the baseball. The nightmares were sleepy visions of flesh and blood, mostly about his time underneath, Sam hurting, or his father spilling out his worst fears at his face.

Maybe it was how the eldest Winchester’s brain compensated for the lack of bedtime tales and docile affairs growing up. The own way that his brittle soul discovered and molded not to let him collapse, or to always keep him on red alert.

Good and bad deals are mostly a matter of which side you are betting your money on, really.

Because yeah, Dean did wake up feeling like he had shut his forest eyes briefly for twenty minutes instead of hours when he dreamed, but he also had never spent so long trapped in a better place. The green eyed hunter didn’t know which one was worse: the good dreams or the horrific ones. After all, he had went through all the atrocity and made it out alive, but the engulfed craving for light-hearted scenarios was suffocating. The hunter could never have it all. Trust him, he tried. Then, which is more agonizing: to have everything you ever wanted for a couple hours and have every scrap of it taken from you, or to undergo the calamity that accompanied your breaking point?

Dean didn’t know, he didn’t even know what to tell Sam when he wondered what his brother had dreamt about to wake up sweating and screaming, all the light and stupid apple pie desires and the sharp brutality crawling out of the back of his mind. He made a joke, Megan Fox really liked knives, man. He kept it in, shoved down a good amount of alcohol, and mocked the worry of doing the lawn. Ready for another day.

But now he was a demon, and apparently whatever he was made of - sulfur, cruelty, and black eyes under garden ones - wasn't worthy quiet reliefs in the middle of the night, or even frightening figments of memory. He became his worst dreams and all the dreams slipped beyond his reaches because of that. Demons, those unholy creatures, didn’t get the human peculiarities. You know what? Fine by him.

Who needed dreams when you don't need sleep, anyway? Even better: who needed dreams when you don't care about what you gotta do to put your greedy hands on the prize you had been eyeing for years?

Dean Winchester was finally free. Free for the first time since he was a four years little boy who watched his mother burning with a terrorized expression, ironically mimicking the one Mary wore on the ceiling. His dad’s shouting for him to grab Sammy and run, take your little brother and run, echoing through years and years. There was never time for Dean, for his grief or his questions or whatever the child frozen in time under his rib cage could come up with. They said, stupid psychologists with their fancy degrees and malicious bartenders with a unfriendly grun under the counter who learned a little too much, everybody said that when someone was so traumatized as a kid, that person would tend to get frozen at that age. Therefore, how tremendously alleviating was to kill any reminiscing emotion of the whiny child he used to be.

The kind of freedom that no traveler longed for; when one’s ruined and damaged enough not to care, and just take and take and take like hunger itself. Dean was an evil thing now, what else could he do but act on the figments of the worst intentions?

And feel so fucking good when doing that.

‘’Where do you think he's going?’’ Your eyes raked over the street, darting between the asphalt under Baby’s wheels and Sam’s weary features.

‘’I don't know.’’ He sighed, attempting to organize his thoughts. Even as a demon, his brother wouldn’t just run miles and miles away by himself for no apparent reason. There had to be something you and Sam were missing out, some unseen clue or a hidden meaning. ‘’What the localizator says?’’

At least you had managed to put a tracker in his boots during your last encounter. Whatever Dean was thinking of starting there, you and Sam wouldn’t let him.

‘’Still Cicero, Indiana.’’ You sighed. Sammy furrowed his eyebrows, a long forgotten memory rising. ‘’What?’’

‘’We had a case there once years ago.’’ He explained, opting not to elaborate. Your and Dean’s relationship was troubled enough with his new self. Sam didn’t want to blow it up completely. His brother would need you once he came back to himself. The look on your face, though, reported how you weren’t buying his cheap excuses. The long haired hunter sighed. ‘’Did Dean ever tell you about that?’’

‘’No.’’

He stepped on the accelerator.

To find the woman was excruciatingly easy. The freckled demon couldn't believe he opened his computer many times and gave up before today. He glanced through the glass window and there she was, standing in all her glory with a body that seemed to forget how to grow old. Her tan skin still glowing, as appetizing as ever. Brown eyes shining so bright, tiny hands that always seemed to know where he wanted to be touched. She was laughing like there was no tomorrow, holding a glass of wine with one hand and her cellphone with the other, while her dark hair was falling so perfectly over her shoulder, like waves against the rocks in the sea.

Dean can’t wait to smell her again, to taste her, to prove her. His fingers were tingling, begging to touch what was his as he hopped off the car, walking towards the porch. He had been gone for a long time, but now he was back.

He will destroy that quintessential, sequin woman so good.

The Winchester buckled in front of the white door, graced with the sound of the female giggle. Thin walls, he thought, those will be useful to make sure the neighbors know who’s back home. Her steps on the wood floor growing closer and closer as he heard a goodbye, probably aimed at whoever she was on the phone with. It was almost like the caramel skinned woman knew that whoever was on her doorstep wasn’t gonna be a hustled visitor. Or so the demon’s arranged mind said.

‘’Hey, Lis.’’ Dean’s voice lacked any cherishment as she opened the door, who would know that the absence of a soul wouldn't be gelid, just dry? As for her, Lisa’s face was drained of love. For all she was aware of, he was a stranger who knew her name. The male let out a chuckle empty of joy. She really didn’t remember, huh? ‘’Whoa. Cass really fucked up your head, huh? At least he did one thing right.’’

‘’Excuse me?’’ The man with dirty blonde hair and perfect teeth smelled like alcohol. She wasn’t having any of this tonight. ‘’Listen, I don’t know who you are and--’’

‘’Don’t worry.’’ He tranquilized her, although the lopsided grin on his lips held anything but good intentions. ‘’I’ll make you remember. I have a spell. You won’t believe how much you missed me.’’

The mocking laugh that left her lips utterly aggravated him. ‘’I don’t know you. Please leave or I’ll call the police.’’

Dean didn’t need a crowd for that part, a bratty woman in need of a firm hand should get a particular lesson.

‘’You always liked a little cat and mouse.’’

Speaking of, the demon pushed the door wide open without any effort. Lisa jumped at the sudden move, every instinct inside her deciding that man was a threat and not some harmless wasted guy. Her body was quickly erect, thinking about ways to run and get help, but Dean swiftly pushed her to him and kicked the door closed-- her small figure collided to his chest.

Human savagery was cut in urban ways, molded to civilize the animalistic instincts. Imagine meat. A dead animal on a silver plate, and we couldn’t wait to chew every inch of it. We couldn’t wait to eat it, put that dead thing inside us and hope it’ll be enough to control the predatory hungry. Humans will always be animals, but so will be their rests that constructed the demons.

Dean may not be a hunter anymore, but he’s still a predator who can't wait to taste his prey. He could small it, the fear in Lisa’s sweat making his mouth water. How much she tried to fight against him and scream other names when his was the only one he wanted her to need tonight. The resistance of a poor human barely made the monster shiver.

He closed his hands around her arms, throwing her against the wall like someone tossed an old toy away. There was no space for delicaly. In that moment, Dean Winchester was a tiger, a lion, the big bad wolf attacking the omega. Lis winced, her back hurting as her fibers. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that man was about to do something so terrible and disgusting to her in her own house, the place she was supposed to feel warm and safe. Why did he seem to know her? Why did he say she was gonna remember? Was he crazy, hallucinating, or drugged? Why was he so satisfied with how frightened her tiny body looked? How could she use all that information to somehow push him away?

‘’Let me go!’’ She demanded, her legs kicking the demon with ferocity. ‘’What’s wrong with you? LET ME GO NOW!’’

The brunette’s skilled body moved itself desperately, and the act of resistance only brought a hysterical laugh out of Dean. The wrong kind of goosebumps washed her skin, she had to run away for her life. This man was mad.

‘’FIRE! FIRE!’’ Lisa started to scream. Well-aware that people were most likely to come around and help a woman screaming if she said fire. ‘’THERE’S A FIRE. SOMEONE HELP ME!’’

One of his hands went to her neck, wrapping his fingers around it to shut her up. That was rubbing him off the wrong way. Lisa Braeden used to beg for his touch, how dared her not to want him anymore? Now that he was better, stronger, and thicker.

The brown eyed girl went quiet, probably scared by his brutal behavior. Dean smiled, a blood stained grin that carried mischief and pervertment. He licked the tears savoring the salty horror coming from her. Just like the day he was a vampire who almost gave in to drinking every drop of her luptuos blood. She may not remember but he did and he couldn't wait to get inside her, those tight walls squeezing his hard cock.

‘’You’re gonna do as I say, Lis. And I won't hurt you… Much.’’ He risped, crooked nose stroking her wet cheek. She whined. ‘’Don’t worry, honey. You loved it. Bet you’ll scream so much once I fuck you good.’’

‘’Please, don’t do it.’’ She begged as he coaxed his body against his. That man was stronger than her, she had no other choice but to plead to his human side. If only she knew.

‘’Begging already?’’ Dean lifted his head, smirking at her. Lisa just wanted to cry and close her eyes until everything was done. How could someone do that? ‘’I told you, don’t worry. I’m gonna make a lil’ spell that will give your memories back and you’ll remember everything. And then we’re gonna have so much fun, Lis.’’

His last murmur was finished with a kiss. A harsh, ruthless kiss. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call it a kiss; teeth against each other, his vicious mouth pressed to her weakened lips, his tongue invading her like a robber and showing an unrequited dominance.

‘’Dean!’’ Your voice resonated stridently, louder than the door Sam had stormed open. You couldn’t believe what your eyes witnessed. ‘’Stop it!’’

Dean groaned, as if you and Sam were stepping on his territory. He simply turned his head to you two, not pulling away from Lisa. You couldn’t see her face, your boyfriend’s large shoulder and tall body covering her up. His eyes were still green, which set the scene in an even more atrocious light.

Your thoughts were racing. How could he come to her, crave her so badly that he drove away miles and miles as a demon? He was supposed not to feel a thing. You prepared yourself for a cold man, not an obsessive one. Apparently, a heart hidden under the black smoke. Choose if it's a gift or Pandora's box. Sam told you their history. Of course he would want that and not you. Dean never left Lisa because he fell out of love for her, he was ripped out from her life. You were so pissed at yourself; how could you picture playing the woman in his veins? How stupid were you? He may be a demon guided by wants and not emotions, but what was love but an amount of outrageous desires laced up with some pretty words and flavored with dependency?

‘’Y/N and Sammy--’’

Love was the wrong word here. Anyway. Go head and unwrap it.

‘’Please help me!’’ Lisa’s voice came to life once more through her quiet cry. Dean hardened the hold around her throat, making her cough a little.

Suddenly, your body is frozen. That, whatever that is, whatever he’s doing to Lisa. It wasn’t love. She didn’t want it. When his frame moved to face you and Sam, you caught a glimpse of her face. She was petrified, her delicate features contorted in wrath and fear and beg for help.

‘’Quiet.’’ Dean howled, glancing at her rapidly before his eyes fell on you and Sam again. ‘’You two are such killjoys. I told you to let me go.’’

You couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You wanted to puke your guts out.

‘’And what? Kill your ex? Or do something even worse to her?’’ You elicited with disgust.

‘’She’ll come around eventually. Just playing hard to get. You know how frisky women are.’’ The corner of his lips curved into a barbaric grim, one of his hands touching Lisa’s cheek. The victim winced at the touch. ‘’Besides, I’m not just gonna take her. I’ll make her remember and she’ll want me.’’ He shrugged, unbothered by the horrified looks of everyone in the room. ‘’Are you really worried about Lis, Y/N? Or are you just jealous that I didn’t go for you?’’

‘’Enough, Dean.’’ Sam groaned, holding the gun up. It felt oily. ‘’Let her go. And come with us.’’

The demon tossed the brunette away with a simple sleight of hand, pulling his sleeves up with a marred beam. His eyes switched from starry green to black, showing his true facette. It was a peculiar relief. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean.

Yet, Dean’s gruff voice said in a twisted playful tone:

‘’Come get me, Sammy.’’

Dean Winchester was cured. For most people, to heal is to let go or to learn with things. In the doctor’s case, healing is leaving a bruise to cover up a wound. Everyone believed the war started and ended, and that was it. But when something so ravaging is gone, you gotta deal with the trauma.

He was a trauma. Cured from a sickness, drowning in sorrow and waves of woe. All the worst things Dean ever did, he knew now, weren’t to himself or to the monster he so proudly killed. His unspoken acts were against the people he cared about.

The hunter never thought his hands, his bruised and tough hands could ever hurt Lis. The woman who was his lifeline when Sam died, who allowed him to be a father and live in his dreamland of suburban life. All she ever did was to love him, and what did she get for it?

He was disgusted with himself. What almost did to her was enough to hunt him and make him sure he was going back to hell, very deserving this time. Threating to do that to a woman, and enjoy it… Dean couldn’t bear driving into memories. He was selfishly glad he didn’t remember about that, only Sam’s explanation was enough: he went to Lisa, he kissed her without her consent, and Sam and you stopped him going any further. Would his unscrupulous, demon self go ahead? He was too scared to wonder, even though his brother said that he apparently had a spell to make Lis remember and wasn’t planning on just taking her. A forced kiss was disgusting enough. He just wished Sam had put a bullet in his black eyes right there.

You walked in the bathroom that you once shared with the eldest Winchester

She was everything he ever wanted, all the suburban dreams and acceptance of hunter reality without being in it. Lisa loved him completely and you could only love him sideways-- you never wanted to be a mom, or to have a family or live in a suburb. Those were valid goals, just not yours. You thought you and Dean were on the same page about it, but this other side, not only the pervert demon but the domestic man, hadn’t been shown to you until a couple days ago. Sam had cured his brother, his dirty nature washed away with holy water, but you couldn’t help the bruises that came from the dog days. Lisa had her memory erased by Cass again, you didn’t have the same unfair luxury.

‘’Dean.’’ You said, making him look up at you. Bags under his eyes and wrinkles more evident than ever. ‘’We need to talk.’’

He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Y/N, I don’t want to talk right now.’’

‘’You never do.’’ You scoffed, gaining an incredulous glance from him. ‘’I know that what happened was disgusting and sick and the worst thing you could ever do, but we need to talk.’’

He took a deep breath. ‘’What do you wanna talk about?’’

‘’You went to her.’’ You stated as a lawyer in front of a jury. Dean furrowed.

‘’What?’’

‘’Lisa. You went to her.’’ When the arrow hit someone so damaged, it was like an animal with his teeth there that wouldn't let go. Yeah, his human soul wasn't the same brittle glass as before but it lingered in his demon self in the shape of delusion, and it was distorted by whatever he was made of, violence and darkness, and turned into something disgusting. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’Love?’’ The word burned his tongue, Dean didn’t think he had the right to ever use it again. ‘’I was a demon, Y/N. I didn’t love or feel anything. What I did--’’

‘’You didn’t do anything.’’ You interrupted, loyal as a soldier.

‘’I forced a kiss on her and wanted to bring her memories back to have sex with her. That’s disgusting and I did half of that.’’ He pointed out aggitadly, plump lips moving fast and voice deeper. ‘’It wasn’t love. Leaving her years back was love.’’

You didn’t miss how Dean didn’t even dare to say her name. ‘’So you don’t think about her? Not even once?’’

He scoffed humourless. ‘’Are you kidding me?’’

‘’I guess I should have been more like her.’’ You hugged yourself, glancing at the wall. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again, not for another woman. That wasn’t even your cicatrix to ache.

‘’Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about?’’ The fully green eyed man raised to his feet, glancing at you with disbelief. He couldn’t face how messed up it was. ‘’I can’t believe you are jealous of what happened. I thought I was the broken one here.’’

‘’I’m not her.’’ You two shared it, the glance that only two women who were hurt by the same man could. You both understood that when he got inside you, it was like the syringe in an eutanasia. Once you were happy because you loved him, now you were scared and not so sure this was what you wanted. ‘’I’m not her and you knew it. When you became just instincts and selfish and did whatever you wanted, you didn’t come to me. You came to her.’’

‘’I hurt her.’’

The next words fly out of your mouth, as weak and totaled as you felt: ‘’Why didn’t you hurt me?’’

‘’This is the most unhealthy shit we ever went through.’’ Dean’s right. You have her expression mesmerized on your brain. Dean was the man on top of her, teaching her how to hate. How to fear. You can’t trust yourself. ‘’I can’t believe you.’’

‘’Neither can I.’’ You were so sick. How ravaged and annihilated one had to be to wish to be a demon's object of obsession? To get jealous that another woman almost died in the arms of a beast that cried his blood out once he came back to being a man and saw what he had done? ‘’I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I was there and I saw how scared of you she was, how all she wanted was to push you away and run because she was so disgusted--’’

‘’Stop.’’ He groaned, but it came out more like a whine than anything. ‘’It wasn’t me. I would never hurt Lis. I would never force her to do anything! I--’’

You gave him a sad smile. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’I love you.’’ Dean approached you, fumbling in despair to fix yet another thing his hands destroyed. If Rome was built in ruins, he was a kingdom. You pulled away before his tough hands landed on you.

‘’But you love her too.’’ The hunter stopped on his spot, unable to answer. ‘’I ruined myself for you, Dean. I can’t-- I won’t do that again. You are right. This is unhealthy. The fact that you’ve been pining for her for so long, pushing down those feelings to the point they are twisted into something so cruel and disgusting. You need help.’’ What kind of ugly you have to have inside you for a monster to love you? And, even worse, what kind of sickness you have trapped, written in your blood to want it to be spilled out in his name? ‘’You really are venom. If this is how you love, it’s scary as fuck.’’ When you loved a broken man, you were never sure if his shattered pieces would glisten or cut your hand once the light came in. Here’s your answer. His parts crawled inside you through pulled up scars, scraping your insides to make into ruins, but you never liked Rome much. You had to be better than that. ‘’Goodbye, Dean.’’

He couldn’t bring himself to go after your steps.

Once again, it’s the kind of freedom no traveler wants. When you lost it all and didn't have any person or place to cling to, when you had to leave because you were becoming the girl you swore you’d never leave, when you walked away willingly without a map.

Still, it was all you had. You’d make a good use of it. You’d be okay. No more ugly emotions or sentiments that made you unrecognizable. No more knives that cut both ways, or situations so complicated you weren’t sure where your morals could rely on.

You’d be okay, healthy, and happy.

You’d be okay.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡ Tags in reblog!

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

Family Time

EZ Reyes x Reader

Request by the wonderful @ly--canthrope: Shopping for the coming baby and the reader and him are giggly, soft, soon-to-be parents and they end up decorating the nursery together that afternoon and their dog is with them and gets curious about the baby bump and then curls up on the reader’s chest, protecting her because she is the valuable one

Warnings: EZ being a super sweet and cute human, a protective doggo, and baby fever

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: We love a little baby fever for our boy!! EZ would be such a phenomenal dad and you cannot convince me otherwise. Also did I do a little projection with the nursery decorations?? Possibly.

EZ Taglist: @noz4a2 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter (If you want to be added to the tags for any of my writing please let me know!)

“Oh but wouldn’t this look cute on the wall above the crib?” you pointed at the framed picture on the top shelf.

EZ smiled, shaking his head, “I just wanna know, Querida,” he walked over to you, resting his hand on your ever-growing baby bump, “how much Winnie the Pooh stuff are you planning on putting in our baby’s room?”

You laughed, placing your hands on top of his, “As much as I can!” you rubbed your stomach lightly, “How long have you been thinking about decorating the nursery?”

He shrugged, “Ever since you told me that you’re pregnant.”

You nodded, “Right. So you’ve been thinking about this for about seven months. I’ll even say a year, since we started talking about kids. But, I, on the other hand,” you laid your hand against your chest, “have been day-dreaming about decorating my baby’s nursery ever since I knew I wanted to be a mom. I got lots of ideas in here,” you tapped the side of your head.

There was a soft smile on EZ’s face and you could feel the love radiating off of him, “I love you,” he leaned in and kissed you.

You smiled, “I love you too.”

He stood up on his toes, reaching the top shelf that you couldn’t and placed the frame in the cart, “But you realize the nursery isn’t that big, right? I mean, we’ll still need somewhere to put the actual baby when they get here.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “There will be room. Besides, babies are small. They could fit anywhere.”

EZ laughed, “I’m not sure that that’s the mentality we should be having,” he leaned against the cart, “How about we take this stuff and cash out. We can head home and start decorating the nursery, and if when we’re done we still have room, we can come out shopping again next week and I won’t give you a hard time about not having room to put the baby somewhere. Deal?”

You smiled, resting your hands on your stomach, “Deal.”

The two of you pulled into the driveway of your house. The second that EZ cut the engine on the car you could hear the dog barking inside. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. He knew the sound of EZ’s car and yet, despite the countless days he’s heard EZ pull into the driveway, he still loses it every time it happens.

EZ comes over and helps you out of the car. For a while you would try to wave him off, saying that you were pregnant, not incapable. But he would continue to insist, so eventually you stopped fighting him on it. You asked if there were any bags that he’d let you carry in, knowing that he wouldn’t let you do the One-Trip Olympics like you had before you were pregnant. He smiled, handing you the smallest bag as he collected up the rest of them. You rolled your eyes with a smile as you left him to his devices.

You made it to the front door, turning the key in the lock. You tried the best you could to stand off to the side as you opened the door, knowing that your dog was going to fly out into the yard and head right over to EZ. He’d always liked EZ more and you had never really questioned it—EZ was the one who brought him home from the shelter, after all. He was nice to you, but very rarely did he ever get cozy with you.

He came tearing out across the lawn and was attempting to jump on EZ despite the fact that he had multiple bags in each hand. EZ laughed, trying to carefully step around the shepherd that was jumping at him, “Down, boy. Easy.”

He was refusing to let up so you whistled, calling him over to you, “Apollo! Come!”

The dog whipped his head back around to you and slowly trotted over. You stood just inside the door to the house, coaxing him in so that EZ could walk in peace. He trailed happily behind the two of you, sniffing excitedly at the bags that EZ was carrying.

“Looks like we have an extra helper for decorating,” you laughed as Apollo sat in the doorway of the nursery.

“If only he had thumbs,” EZ chuckled.

Both of you looked around the nursery. Painting was already done—EZ had enlisted Angel’s help with that. They’d let you help with that solely because they hated doing the taping. Over the course of a weekend the three of you had turned the previously blank walls of the nursery into a forest scene. While it was for the baby it would be the 100 Acre Wood to keep with your Winnie the Pooh theme, but it was a neutral enough paint job that it could grow up with your child. At least, that was the way that you had pitched the idea to EZ.

The big things had already been put together thanks to Felipe. He wasn’t going to have either of you fretting over putting together the crib and dresser when those were things that he could easily take care of in an afternoon. He’d even attached a mobile to the crib, and also went out and found a nice little bookshelf when you had mentioned it was something you had been thinking of for the baby. He wasn’t always the most verbally expressive man, but you’d never doubted for a second that he loved you and the baby that you had on the way.

“Alright, so what do we need to get into place?” EZ looked over to you for some direction.

You pressed your lips together in thought, “Okay, we need to get the changing table in here, along with the little standalone closet. Plus we got a couple shelves to throw up on the walls. And the string lights. And the framed photos,” you paused, “Oh and the reading corner with the chair.”

“So…the whole room,” EZ laughed as he rested his hand on the back of his neck.

You smiled walking up and kissing him on the cheek, “We don’t need to get it all done today. We got time.”

He rested his hands on your bump, smiling, “Not as much as we think, Querida,” he didn’t take his hands off of you as he continued to talk, “I’ll take care of the changing table and the closet to start. If you want to find a place for the string lights and stuff, I can bring in the chair afterwards and we can work together on the reading corner, okay?”

You nodded, resting your hands on top of his for a moment, “Sounds good. Thank you for doing all the heavy lifting, EZ.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “You’re carrying the most important thing. The least I can do is move some furniture around.”

You were able to hang up the lights and even a couple of the framed photos as EZ got the bulkier furniture all situated in the room. He was right—the nursery wasn’t a huge room, but somehow it still didn’t feel cramped despite all of the things that you were moving into it. It felt cozy, and you couldn’t want for the three of you to spend time there.

“Okay,” EZ took a deep breath, “where’s the chair going?”

You gestured to where the string lights were, “I figured over there? That way there will be some nice soft light while we’re in here reading.”

He smiled, nodding, “Sounds perfect.”

You hated that you pretty much just had to sit back and watch him do everything, but you knew that even if you tried to assist he’d shoo you away. After he situated the chair, he sat down in it and looked around the room. He nodded in approval and waved you over. You crossed the room to meet him, interlocking your fingers with his. He attempted to pull you onto his lap but you shook your head.

“I’m two people now, EZ,” you laughed, “I’ll crush you.”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m way too strong to be crushed. C’mere,” he tugged at your arm.

You sighed, wanting to pretend that you were annoyed with his persistence but you really loved it. You took his hand in yours and tugged him towards you, “I’d be so much more comfortable just cuddling with you on the couch. You deserve a break from all the hard work anyway,” you lifted his hand to your lips and placed a kiss on his knuckles, “The little stuff can wait until tomorrow.”

The two of you got situated on the couch. You were leaning against EZ’s side, his arm wrapped around you so that he could keep you close but also feel any motion that the baby made. For a few weeks already you had been feeling intermittent kicks, and the sensation never got old. You loved how excited EZ got every time that it happened.

“You’re still okay with not knowing ahead of time?” you asked him as you rubbed your hand over your stomach.

He smiled, nodding, “I like the surprise. No matter what they’re going to be so loved,” he kissed your temple, “Just like their mother.”

You smiled, settling back into him, “I love you.”

He pressed his lips to the side of your head again, “I love you too.”

You both returned your attention to the show you were watching. Every now and then you’d feel a small kick in your stomach, and you’d look over to see EZ with an ecstatic smile plastered across his face as he soaked in the moment. He’d lightly trace his thumb along your stomach for a few moments before his eyes returned to the TV screen.

You heard the jingling of a collar and suddenly Apollo was trying to climb into your lap. You laughed, trying to resituate yourself so that the couch could comfortably hold all three of you. Despite your efforts to make space for him to have his own section of cushion, he was determined to lay with his head in your lap. You and EZ both looked at each other and shared a confused laugh, unsure where the sudden bout of cuddliness came from.

His head was nestled against your stomach and thigh. You gently pet his head and neck, reveling in how calm your usually excited pup was. A few minutes passed with all of you enjoying the calm that had taken over your household. Then you felt another kick. You looked at Apollo, and you could tell that he felt it too. You chuckled quietly to yourself as he pressed his nose against your stomach, trying to figure out what had just happened. While his nose was pressed against the fabric of your shirt, there was another kick. His ears perked up and he looked at you as if to ask if you could explain what had just happened.

You scratched behind his ears, “It’s okay. It’s just the baby. You’ll meet them soon.”

He stared intently at your stomach for a few more moments, waiting for something else to happen. When all was still quiet, he laid his head back into your lap. You watched him for a few moments, chuckling to yourself at the way his eyes would dart over to your stomach every so often before he would close them.

“You think he knows?” EZ asked as he watched the whole scene unfold.

You nod, “I think so. He’s getting ready to love someone else in this house more than he loves either of us,” you chuckled, “You’re about to be de-throned, knocked out of the number one spot on his list.”

He laughed, kissing the top of your head, “I’m alright with that.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes imagine #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes fanfic #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes fanfic #ez reyes fluff #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

Text

HASO, “Milkshake.”

You guys seem to be enjoying it, so here is some more fluff with Eris .

Hope you enjoy!

Eris sat on the couch in the living room; the TV was on, but she wasn’t really paying attention as her eyes kept drifting towards the front window which looked out on the front lawn and the street beyond that. Jim was sitting across the room for her and Martha was working on another clothing pattern for Eris. She had really latched onto the idea of making clothing that was comfortable for her, which Eris appreciated immensely though she wasn’t sure if she'd be confident in wearing them.

People would think she was weird.

She glanced out the window again, hoping to see a car pull up.

He said he would be here today sometime in the afternoon. She knew it was only 11, but she desperately wanted to see him again despite her nerves and her continual feeling of isolation. Why did she care about this man so much? Yes he had saved her life, yes he had provided half of her DNA, but no, he hadn’t chosen to have her, no she hadn’t grow up the normal way with him as a father figure, and no he still wasn’t really in her life.

He was a busy man.

He was important.

And what was she to get in the way of that?

Nothing, that was the answer. He was big, important and successful, and she was a violation of his privacy.

These thoughts rolled around in her head as she sat on that couch. She knew the vast majority of them were irrational, made by her own mind to make herself feel inadequate, but she just couldn’t push the thoughts away. She wondered when she had turned into this person, someone who wondered about their adequacy and worried about their appearance. Once upon a time she remembered being powerful and terrifying to the people who had wronged her and her little family.

She remembered being confident in what she was doing.

Perhaps it was the loss of her goals and purpose that had driven her to this.

Once the others started getting adopted and brought into new families her work had grown less and less, and she became obsolete and lost in a universe that was vast and unknowable. The others were being taken care of, but no one had returned for her.

No one had seemed to consider that she was just like the others.

She had been created against her will and had never been given time to grow up.

With all the responsibility of other people’s thoughts in her head.

What was she doing?

It was only then that a sudden thought from Jim jogged her from her spiraling self doubt. With his human hearing, he could make out a car pulling into the driveway. She quickly got to her feet and turned to look at the window as the car stopped and the door opened.

Her heart jumped in her chest as Adam stepped out into the early morning sun. He was a little different than she remembered. He stood straighter and held his head higher. He still wore the eye patch she remembered and still had the same messy hair, but there was something about him that changed in the months since she had last seen him.

Behind him, a large blue shape exited the vehicle as well and stepped onto the pavement.

It was him, Sunny, the little doctor named krill, and Adam’s dog.

The dog’s mind was very very strange, driven by impulses and instincts as she snuffled around in the grass, but when she turned back to look at Adam, there was such an intense feeling of love and admiration, Eris had to pull away.

Adam rubbed the dog’s ears and walked up towards the house as the other two followed behind.

Martha got up to grab the door and Jim turned in his seat.

The door opened, and the group of them stepped inside, waffles, the dog, running in to greet Jim, who she had an unusual affinity for.

Martha hugged Adam tight, “So good to see you.” She pulled back hands to his arms, patting them with a frown on her face, “You’ve been working out.”

He smiled slightly, “Thank the Neo-Spartans for that.”

He reached over and shook his father’s hand, as his arms were busy with the pile of dog that had scooted her way halfway onto his lap, “Looking good.”

He nodded to Sunny who stood behind Adam, “I heard about your Sainthood. Congratulations. That’s a big accomplishment.”

Eris felt the pride radiating from Sunny as she lifted her head into the air, “Thank you Jim.”

Martha nodded, “You’ve come along way since we first met.” She gave sunny a hug too

Martha’s thoughts, once cold towards Sunny had warmed up over the past year. A small part of her even began to see Sunny as another daughter, thought that was the fact about Martha Eris had come to notice. She tended to adopt any little lonely thing she happened to meet; even the little doctor who walked in last.

She smiled, “Dr. Krill I see you haven’t died of complications relating to stress yet.”

The Vrul’s antenna twitched a little and he hummed his amusement, “Not for all of your son’s trying.” Despite how calm the little creature seemed, Eris could see in his head as a myriad of emotions flew through him. He thought that this place was a complete death trap, and had to constantly remind himself that humans were more durable than they looked.

In a way she thought it was kind of cute that he would worry about his companions so much.

Then Adam’s eyes turned to her.

She tried not to listen in on his thoughts, really tried. She didn’t like to pry into people’s minds. A lot of people didn’t like that when they knew what she could do, but she couldn’t help as the flood of strange emotions came pouring from the man’s head. He was a little different than other humans, he had a lot going on in there, and his thoughts and Emotions hit him hard and fast.

What did she expect.

Anger

Bitterness

Betrayal

annoyance

She was invading his privacy, injecting herself into a family she had never been invited into. WOuld he resent her for that?

But instead she felt.

Excitement.

and...

Nervousness?

What did he have to be nervous about.

The man walked over, and to her surprise picked her up into a crushing hug lifting her feet completely off the floor. She marveled for a moment at how strong he was, forgetting that humans tended to be on the strong side, second only to drev. He set her down smiling, and she felt a jenuine well of happiness wash over her tinted slightly with guilt, though he did a good job at keeping that to the back of his mind.

“You know what, I think you’ve gotten taller.”

She smiled, “Or you’ve gotten shorter.”

He laughed, “That is a complete possibility.” She continued to smile as he patted his chest, “I am getting old after all.” He looked over towards Jim, “Aging like my old man.”

“Shut up.” Jim harumphed, “I can still kick your ass.”

Martha frowned, “Are you implying that I am old Adam.”

He turned to smile at her, “Not a day past 21 mother.”

Martha crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, “Someone is looking for brownie points.”

“That depends, did you make brownies?”

She rolled her eyes, “No, I did not make brownies.”

He frowned.

“But I did muffins.”

“Score.” He said flopping down on the couch next to Eris as Krill floated to sit in the chair next to Jim.

The two of them watched the game, Jim seeming to enjoy Krill grimacing at every play and screaming at the TV for letting the humans knock each other out. He especially seemed to enjoy the medical descriptions of all the horrible issues they were probably having from all of that running into each other.

“So, how are you liking earth.” Adam asked, draping one of his large arms over her shoulders. Eris was struck with how nice the gesture felt and looked up at him, his head tilted to the side.

She smiled slightly, “I like it, it’s so warm and bright, and you have good food.”

“You can eat human food huh?”

She smiled and nodded, “We haven’t tried everything yet, but I really like strawberry ice cream.”

He snorted, “Lord she developed David’s poor taste in cold flavored delectables.”

For a moment she worried she had really upset him but was soon proven wrong when she could tell he was just teasing her, “So how are you a herbivore or a carnivore.”

Eris felt herself blanch a little bit. If her blood had been more visible through her marble Starborn skin, she might have gone pale.

“I uh…. I haven’t tried eating….. An animal yet.” She shivered at the thought. How could she? How could she eat something that used to be alive?

He smiled seeing the look on her face3, “Don’t worry, no one is going to force you too, though I dare say meat is good, your probably won’t regret trying it at least once.”

From across the room she could hear dr. Krill’s thoughts. He was more similar to a plant than he was to an animal, and the thought of consuming something that was living also baffled him, Though a part of him admired how “metal” It sounded. Eris frowned as she looked at the little doctor.

She had red the mind of Vrul before.

They had been strange to her, very alien in their processes, but Krill.

Well she might have thought he was just a very strange human had she not been able to see him.

The humanizing phenomenon perhaps>?

She couldn't be sure.

“So Eris, how about my offer from earlier, how would you like to go see where I grew up.”

She turned to look at Adam, who was staring at her expectantly.

She shuffled her feet awkwardly, “I would like that.”

“I will show you all the great and wonderful places I got beaten up. It will be a grand time.” She looked inside to see that he was just joking again. He did have some bad memories associated with the town, though the vast majority of them were good. She could see and feel the vibrant joy of fireworks and colorful parades as they passed through his memory. She could see cold calm lakes and feel wind blowing through the forest.

She nodded.

Martha turned to look at Sunny, “I’d like to keep you and Krill behind tomorrow if you don’t mind.”

Sunny looked up from here she was staring intently at the TV yelling over Jim’s shoulder at the reff who, to her, had made a very poor call.

“Of course, what do you need us for?”

“Alternative clothing designs for aliens. I think there is a large untapped market, and I want to see what I can do with it.”’

Adam grinned across the room at sunny, “Ah, she has finally roped you into being one of her guinea pigs. Enjoy.”

“Adam was such a good little guinea pig, and looked so good in a dress.”

Adam snorted and waved a hand, “I rocked the regency period as I have said before and so I shall say again.”

Eris leaned her head against Adam’s side as she listened to the ongoing banter between the group of people.

She tried not to pry but couldn’t help soak up the memories that popped to the surface of his head. Warm sunlight through an open window, the sound of a sprinkler, and the yell of children’s voices in the distance.

For a moment she became jealous of it before hiding that away in the back of her head.

THere was no use resenting others for something that wouldn’t change.

She would make the best of what she had.

That night, Eris slept in the same room as Sunny, whose memories were remarkably less pleasant than Adam’s, while Adam got his old room back. He would have shared with Krill, though Krill didn’t sleep, and spent most of the night watching late night television, which he found both strange and haunting in ways he wasn’t so sure was good.

She drifted in and out.

She wasn’[t entirely sure if her sleeping patterns were normal. She needed to recharge like the humans did, but seemed to go into a trance rather than into real sleeping. She dreamed, but hose dreams were more hallucinations which appeared about the room around her. Occasionally, she learned that she was able to share the dreams of others, and so took a ride along with Adam as he was joyfully able to fly without the need for a jet or a jetpack.

The feeling was so vivid she jolted awake when it was all over, sure she was going to find herself hurtling through the air.

That morning they had muffins, which melted in her mouth and made her insides growl. They weren’t as vocal as human innards, but apparently the smell of the muffins woke something deep within her.

Sunny was presented with a bowl of dandelions Jim had picked from the backyard that morning.

He was a little nervous that it might seem rude or degrading, but Sunny definitely seemed to appreciate the gesture. Krill didn’t need anything other than a glass of water, though Martha opened the curtain on the back sliding door to let in the early morning sun.

It fell across both her and krill, and her body hummed with its energy.

Adam stood and turned to look at his father when breakfast was over, “Can I borrow the car keys.”

Jim looked over at him skeptically, “You… drive… I don’t know about that.”

Adam frowned, “Oh come on, I fly spaceships for a living.”

Jim snorted, “yet, somehow every time you get in a vehicle that has wheels on it, you turn into my granny with a led foot.”

“Promise I will be safe.”

Eris smiled, his memories reminding him of all the jokes about being a bad driver .

Jim just rested his hand on his forehead and looked at Eris, “Lord knows I have never known a man with such poor command of motor vehicles. Ans you see if have seen this boy fly a jet in formation with seven other jets four feet apart and his hands are rock steady, but put him in a car, and he overcorrects into the ditch.”

Adam frowned, “That was my FIRST time driving.”

Jim finally relinquished the keys to him, “take the car, it’s an automatic. Everyone knows you shake her brains out if you tried to take the truck.”

Adam grumbled and took the keys, “Its the 41st century dad why do you even still need a stick shift.”

He crossed his arms, “If we are ever attacked by an EMP burst, that car is the only thing that is still going to be running, now get out of here.”

Eris followed Adam out the door, her little black cloak swishing behind her.. She hadn’t wanted to wear anything to obvious yet, so martha had grudgingly decided to at least make her something that looked better than her old ratty sweatshirt. It was a short cloak thing with a hood, and she thought it looked kind of nice, though she kept the hood low over her face. Adam slid into the driver’s seat of the car and Eris got into the other seat clipping on her seatbelt as he turned and began backing out of the driveway.

They jolted a bit as he moved into first and he glanced over at her, “Don’t tell my dad.”

She smiled somewhat as he inched forward and then began to pick up speed. The look of concentration on his face, and the white knuckles of his hands almost made her laugh. She could see him flying in his memories.

But for a man who loved to fly, he sure hated to drive.

“I’ll show you around the two first, than we can get lunch and after that we will find places to get out of the car and take a look around. Does that sound good?”

She nodded, though she wouldn’t have argued with him if he wanted to ride in circles all day. It was nice being here with him. Since they had last met his thoughts had calmed down significantly.

In the back of the car, his dog waffles sneezed and then rested her chin on the console.

Eris looked sideways at her sensing that the animal was looking for attention. She reached out a nervous hand and stroked the dog’s ears. In the back seat her tail thumped against the upholstery, and she grumbled happily.

“And out your right side of the window is the local high school or what I like to call the department of corrections against happiness. Eris winced, there was a lot of thought coming out of that building, and none of it very pleasant.

“Thank goodness I only went there for like a year.” he grinned, “I was flying planes after that.” He tapped his chin, “I can never decide if it counts as me dropping out of high school or graduating early, or transferring schools.” he shrugged and kept going, “That’s the middle school on the left, arguably just as bad as the high school but with younger people, and right next to that is the elementary school.”

“So many?”

He shrugged, “Yeah I have no idea why they do it this way, but that’s the way it has been done for a very long time.”

Eris had obviously never gone to school. She didn’t really need to.

She could know anything she wanted to know as long as someone else around her knew it. She could read and write and do math well enough. It was a little harder with muscle memory as that wasn’t something she could read. So, while she knew how to make most of the clothes that Martha could make, she might not be so good with a sewing machine.

“That’s the park. I used to like climbing up to the top of that tree in the middle, and down over there is the drive in movie theater. It’s one of the only ones left in this country, kind of more for nostalgia than anything..” he was able to lift his hand rom the steering wheel and point over at something else, “You have the grocery store over there and then that parking lot is where all the redneck kids used to go to get drunk.”

Eris leaned forward feeding off the memories those strange places gave him. He showed her little hidden spots down by the rivers where his brothers and him used to go swim. He showed her places of significance for the town, and even those locations where he had been sure he had seen an alien. The thought made her smile considering he had one in his car now.

Eventually he turned away and pulled into a small diner on the edge of the town.

He looked over at her, “Best place to eat in town, I know it doesn’t look like much, but trust me get yourself a milkshake at the very least.”

She nodded and nervously got out of the car with him, walking by his side as he made his way across the parking lot and to the little building. A bell dinged as they walked in,�� and she found only a few people sitting inside this time of day. The two of them seated themselves at a booth and Eris looked around,

It wasn’t like the many other buildings Eris had seen. It was old with a checkered floor pattern, and red upholstered bar stools. All of it looked new enough and clean enough, though something about it just felt old.

There was a jukebox playing music in the corner, something that had been obsolete for almost two thousand years. No wonder Adam and Martha liked this place. Martha with her doctorate degree in the information age, and Adam with his obsession over turn of the century rock music.

They were greeted just then by a pleasant faced portly little woman with grey hair.

Hermemory was a vibrant one.

She had worked here for a very long time, a sweet southern bell moved up from the south and married to a man in town. She had worked at this diner for over three decades and seen everything that passed through. Adam remembered her as someone who had been a fixture of the town, and his memories were pleasant.

When he had been alone and hurting, he had come here just to be in a safe environment, and this woman had had pity on him and made him a milkshake for free before sitting and talking with him when her shift would allow.

He smiled up at her and she lit up in surprise.

“Why if it isn’t sweet little Adam!” She looked him up and down, “Not so little anymore, lord it was only yesterday you and your brothers were in here causing trouble.”

He smiled, “And you angela, looking as beautiful as the day I met you.:

She snorted and waved a hand, “Oh stop, I’m old and wrinkly.”

“Old, you don’t look a day over twenty five.”

She laughed again, “Your flattery won’t work here dear. I know you have a penthouse on the moon.”

He snapped his fingers, “Pity.”

She turned her head to look at Eris, “And who is your friend.”

He looked across the table, “I uh, this is Eris.” Eris hunkered down in her hood a bit, “She’s my…. Daughter?”

Angela looked skeptical, “Boy i’ve never seen you look at a woman sideways, so forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

Adam smiled a bit ruefully, “Well it’s complicated.

Eris slowly raised her eyes towards the woman’s curiosity and as soon as Angela saw her face she put a hand over her heart and held up a hand, “Lord have mercy!” Eris braced herself for the disparaging thoughts, but instead the woman sat down next to her, “Why dear, why don’t you take off that hood and show us your pretty face.” There we go, and look at that long gorgeous black hair. You know them fancy modeling places in the city might just eat you up.”

She turned to look at Adam, “Aliens? Really?”

“She was grown from my DNA, but…..” He paused mulling something over before deciding to speak.

“But I WAS dating a different alien for a while.”

Angela did not seem surprised.

“For a while? Something went wrong?”

“I screwed it up.” he sighed, “Still trying to see if I can get back in her good graces, but who knows.”

Angela just smiled and shook her head, “You were never going to be normal, Adam, but not that that’s a bad thin.: She stood and looked down at Eris, “What can I get for you.”

Eris cleared her throat and in a small voice, “A milkshake””

Adam nodded up at her, “Strawberry, that’s her favorite.”

She nodded, “And your usual?”

“Yes please.”

She smiled at them and walked off with a pleasant wave. When she came back Eris learned he was right about their milkshakes. It was so good and filled her mouth with just enough flavor. He polished off a milkshake and a Hamburger, and Eris really had no idea where iit all went. He was a black hole when it came to food.

Angela gave him a hug on his way out, and even spared one for Eris before commenting on her hair again, which Eris would have blushed at if she could blush.

Afterwards he took her just a little out of town to the top of a tall hill. On this hill there was a tree and a tire swing with a picnic table. Clouds rolled lazily over the sun as he sat down in the grass and she sat next to him. She could hear dogs barking in the distance, and somewhere the elementary school was out for recess.

Adam closed his eyes and leaned back in the grass.

“Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my love for space that I forget just how much I love Earth.” He sighed and the two of them could smell freshly mowed grass and pine trees.

She lay back with him.

“I was thinking about maybe staying here with your parents for a while.”

“Your grandparents.” he corrected eyes still closed.

She felt her heart beat faster, “Yeah, if they’re ok with that.”

“I don’t see why not. Mom always liked having someone around to help her with her projects. She uses dad when she can and he suffers silently for her, but I think she'd enjoy your company.”

“You do?” Eris wondered

“Well I don’t see how she couldn't. I enjoy your company.”

She felt a thrill through her insides.

He turned to look at her, “I AM sorry I can’t be…. more. “ his words didn’t say as much as his thoughts could, and it were those that helped her understand what he really meant. He would offer to take her in any day of the week, but that would mean her being alone more often than not while he was away, and he didn’ want to do that to her.

He thought she deserved better.

She wouldn’t argue with him about that, for she understood his reasoning and sentiment and tended to agree.

Both of them knew that his parents were a pretty great idea.

She could be happy here

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mystical-flute · 3 years ago

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We Were Both Young When I First Saw You (SF Week Day 1)

Partners In Crime or Enchanted Forest AU

AO3 || FFN

“Papa, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Baelfire. We’ve only got a bit further to go.”

Baelfire couldn’t help but frown at the castle looming in the distance. He wasn’t entirely sure what his Papa’s version of “bit” was, but he knew they wouldn’t even reach the castle by sundown if they tried.

They had been journeying for weeks now, having only barely scraped enough money together for food or the occasional night at the inns on the route from Senaela. There was to be a spinning contest in Misthaven, hosted by the Queen and Prince Regent. The prize money would be everything to them - and Baelfire knew his Papa was the best spinner in all the realms.

But that didn’t mean Baelfire wasn’t tired of traveling.

Still, he pushed on. For his Papa. For a better life.

Despite the burning in his lungs and his legs, he pushed on, the cart moving slowly through the forest.

They stumbled upon a small village, and were settling down to eat the rations they’d found when the sound of horses cut through the serenity.

The lead horse had a banner with a crest of the royal family on it, and Baelfire sighed in relief. It wasn’t their Duke’s men who came to take him away to fight against the ogres. They had escaped. They were safe.

“Clear the area! Make way for Princess Emma and Prince Neal!” the man on the lead horse called.

The residents buzzed with excitement as they cleared the main street of the town, gathered on either side. Children stood on tiptoes, peeking out from behind their mother’s skirts or seated upon their father’s shoulders.

Baelfire and Rumplestiltskin stood off to the side in surprise.

“Princess Emma and Prince Neal seem quite popular…” he said softly.

“Oh, they are!” the woman standing next to him remarked. “The whole royal family is, actually. They say the prince was a poor farm boy before Queen Snow married him. They always hear out the woes of the farmers that live on the edge of the kingdom.”

More horses galloped through, carrying banners of the royal family.

“Emma and Neal seem to be following in Queen Snow and Prince David’s footsteps too. They’re always out talking to the people. It really makes me feel like I’m being heard, y’know? My mother used to tell me we’d be lucky to see King Leopold once a year.”

“We don’t even know what our king looks like,” Papa said. “Only the duke of our area.”

The woman smiled kindly. “Have you considered staying here after the tournament?”

“Well… the people here have been quite friendly,” Papa hummed in consideration.

They couldn’t very well return to their village they’d come from, given they had managed to escape from the Duke and his awful reign of terror. The truth was, Baelfire wasn’t sure if Papa had thought it all the way through after their escape.

Finally, three horses arrived. One white, carrying a girl with blonde hair, one chestnut brown, carrying a younger boy, and the third was a majestic black stallion, carrying a woman with dark hair and sharp features.

The horses came to a halt, and the riders dismounted, leading their horses to the troughs of water available.

Baelfire felt his heart stop as the girl met his gaze, fingers moving of their own accord in a shy wave.

“Princess Emma!” the woman next to them called. “It’s so lovely to see you and Neal out and about.”

Emma laughed a little, hopping over a small mud puddle to meet them. “It’s nice to see you too, Miss Diana. Neal and I figured we’d get a bit of freedom before the contest starts and Mama and Daddy have us stuck being stuffy royals all day.” Her face, which had screwed up into a scowl, softened as she looked at Baelfire and Rumplestiltskin. “I don’t think I’ve seen the two of you before.”

Papa bowed immediately, holding on to his walking stick carefully. “No - no your highness. We’re new here… we’ve come from Senaela for the contest, you see.”

“It’s okay - you don’t have to bow. I’m surprised that news of the contest reached there after mother and father had a falling out with King Thomas and Princess Ella…” Emma trailed off, then shrugged. “Welcome to Misthaven regardless. It’s nice to see some new faces here.”

“Thank you, your highness.”

“Emma,” she said. “I’m Emma.”

Baelfire still felt awestruck, reaching to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Baelfire. This is my Papa, Rumplestiltskin.”

Emma curtseyed just a little. “It’s so nice to meet you both. What’s - ”

“Emma! We need to get back to the palace!” the older woman called.

A scowl appeared on Emma’s face as she turned away from them briefly. “Coming, Regina!” She turned back, smiling at Diana. “You’ll help them get to the palace grounds tomorrow, won’t you, Diana?”

“Of course, Princess Emma.”

Emma gave them a small wave before retreating back to her horse, and within moments, the royal caravan had gone, and Baelfire’s heart was still stuttering.

The next morning, Baelfire was in awe as he took in the castle grounds. It looked more like a festival than a normal contest. Tents of food and other vendors lined the edges of the main path, and games were scattered along the immaculate lawn.

Papa was up on the stage, spinning up a storm with the other contestants, but he could see the piles of wool next to Papa growing larger than the others.

Baelfire sat on an empty patch of grass, listening to a small group of musicians playing. This place was a dream. No evil duke, no ogres… were they finally safe here?

“Hello Baelfire.”

He jumped to his feet and twisted around, bowing. “Hello Princess Emma.”

“How are you enjoying the festivities?”

Baelfire smiled. “It’s very fun. Why did you guys throw a festival like this? I thought it was just a contest for spinners.”

An early spring breeze brushed against them, and Emma pulled her cape tighter around her. “It’s a spring celebration. We’ll hand out the yarn to those that need it, so people can make blankets and warm clothing for next winter,” she explained.

“Wow… that’s so kind. I didn’t think royalty could be like that.”

Emma giggled, holding out her arm to guide him through the festivities. “Well, Daddy knows how hard it is to survive winters. He didn’t want to see the people suffer when he married mother.”

Baelfire smiled. He couldn’t imagine being worthy of living in a place like this. But then, anything would be better than the village they’d come from, with the ogres and the dukes drunk on power.

“What are you and your Papa going to do after the contest is over? Will you return home?”

Baelfire bit his lip. “We don’t really have a home anymore. We fled from the Ogre Wars. The duke wanted to take me away to be a soldier on the front lines.”

“You can’t be much older than I.”

“Fifteen.”

“We’re the same age, then. And they expect you to fight in a war?”

“It used to be thirteen.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “That’s terrible! I mean, Mama taught me how to fight, but she would never tell people our age to go fight in a war! You must stay in Misthaven. You’ll be safe here.”

“Thank you, Princess Emma.”

“Emma! There you are!” an older woman called.

Baelfire glanced over his shoulder, then stiffened when he realized the queen and prince regent were coming toward them. His manners kicked in when he saw the sword on the prince’s hip, dropping into a low bow.

“Mama, Daddy, I was just showing Baelfire around,” Emma explained. “His Papa’s in the contest today. Rumplestiltskin.”

“Ah, the favorite to win,” David said. “Your father is quite the talent.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” he managed to squeak out. “We’re very honored to be here.”

Snow glanced up at the sky, gauging the direction of the sun. “We should be announcing the winner in about an hour, if you would like to wait with your father, Baelfire.”

He nodded slowly as Snow and David walked off. He and Emma wandered around the square for a bit longer before he stood on the stage alongside his father, who was a bundle of nervous energy, his good leg bouncing.

“And the winner of this year’s contest is… Rumplestiltskin!” Queen Snow announced.

Despite the thunderous applause and cheers from the people fathered, all Baelfire could focus on was the wide smile on Emma’s face, and the light dusting of pink in her cheeks.

Perhaps they would stay in Misthaven after all.

#sfweek2021 #swanfire #emma swan #neal cassidy #ouat

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silhouetteofacedar · 4 years ago

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Impersonal, Ch. 7

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, Rated E

The game had ended and he wasn’t surprised.

He expected this. He prepared himself all day Saturday by running six miles, jacking off twice, and mopping his entire apartment. He didn’t even own a mop; he actually went out and bought one. By the time Sunday morning rolled around he was ready for the inevitable collapse of their precarious sexual arrangement and greeted Scully with aplomb.

And then she paid for breakfast.

That was unexpected. When the FBI wasn’t footing the bill, they usually split the tab, or threw a “you can get the next one” down on the table alongside crumpled bills.

He had been joking about it being a date, but then she paid. And it meant something. Her big blue eyes pinned him to the booth, had him trapped and squirming like an insect on a card as she laid a hand over the check. “I’ve got it,” she said, and his senses were suddenly ignited. He could feel thick sunshine pouring over them, lighting up Scully’s hair like a smudge of cinnamon. Her lips looked so sweet and soft, and the very idea that he might never feel them again stole his breath. He felt dry and empty, a desiccated housefly body lying on a windowsill.

He thanked her for breakfast, and his throat was lined with dust.

Their parting was weird. Hinting that he was still available to her was an insane risk, and she turned it into a joke about Frohike. Unless she actually thought he was the one joking about Frohike, which he has to admit wouldn’t be out of character for him.

He’s tired of joking, tired of hiding, tired of dancing around his intentions. Tired of wanting and not asking, tired of being in his own damn way.

Scully has given him a graceful exit, a neatly drawn map back to their pre-sex starting point. And not for the first time, Mulder wads up the map and tosses it aside. Scully made her move; it was time for him do the same.

What that move would be, he has no idea.

It takes him eleven days. No wonder Scully took matters into her own hands the first time around. Inspiration strikes him during his drive from Alexandria to D.C. the next Thursday morning, when he crosses the Potomac and gets a glimpse of faraway blossoms.

He waits until 4:47 that afternoon to say anything.

“Hey Scully, you doing anything tonight?” he asks, rifling through a stack of papers as though he’s attending to FBI business and not trying to work up courage like a schoolboy.

Her glossy red head is bent over a file, pen at her lip. “Besides folding an obscenely large pile of laundry, my schedule seems fairly empty,” she replies. She looks up at him suspiciously. “Why, Mulder?”

“No reason, really. There’s just something I wanted to show you, get your opinion on.”

“Is it related to a case?”

He opens a desk drawer, pretending to look for something. “Well it could be a totally natural phenomenon, but who can say for certain without proper investigation?”

Scully sighs. “Fine, I’ll bite. And speaking of bites, I’m starving. If we’re going to work off the clock, can we at least eat?”

“Wanna stop for Chinese? We can take it with us. We’re not going far, the food should still be hot when we get to our secondary location.”

They take Mulder’s car, picking up several cartons of food from a restaurant in Chinatown a few blocks up from the Hoover building before making their way towards the National Mall. Mulder parks in the lot near the Washington Monument.

“You weren’t kidding when you said we weren’t going far,” Scully says, gathering up the bag of takeout. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“That,” he replies, pointing ahead.

Hundreds of cherry trees line the Tidal Basin, their leaves almost entirely obscured by tufts of blossoms. Scully steps onto the path, open-mouthed.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs.

Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Pretty fantastic, huh?”

“Mulder,” she says in awe, looking sideways at him, “What are we doing here?”

He shrugs. “I just wanted to see them.”

“At night?”

“Daylight’s for tourists, Scully.”

———

They’re sitting on the damp grass, endeavoring to split the last egg roll using only their dueling pairs of chopsticks.

“This is impossible, Scully. I’m going to use my hands.”

“Then I definitely don’t want the other half,” she says.

“Are you implying something about my hygiene?”

“I’ve seen some of the places your hands have been, Mulder.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Not what I meant,” she says softly. “But the point still stands.”

Mulder lays back on the lawn, his long coat fanning wide. Scully pulls an edge of it towards her, scoots closer so she can rest her pantyhose-clad calves on it instead of the grass.

“I’ve always preferred the blossoms at night,” he says. “There’s something ghostly about them, all pink and white against the dark sky. Not an ominous kind of ghostly, however; if good spirits exist, I think they’d look like these trees. You know most early European religions feature some sort of reverence for trees or forests, whether as spiritual gathering places or deities themselves-“

“Mulder.”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to eat that egg roll, or can I have it?”

He passes her the carton. “And-”

“Why did you bring me here, Mulder?”

He glances at her and is surprised to see a tenderness in her eyes. His gaze returns to the branches above.

“I just figured I owe you a nice trip to a forest, and this one won’t require any paperwork.”

Scully smiles. “That’s a very considerate choice, Mulder, especially since I’m always the one doing said paperwork.”

“You’re more succinct and readable than I am, apparently. And Skinner clearly likes you better.”

“Didn’t you punch him in the face once?”

“That’s beside the point. I think he has a bit of a crush on you, Scully.”

She rolls her eyes. “What?” Mulder asks.

“I just… it’s nothing, It’s been a long day. And it’s cold out here.”

Mulder sits up and withdraws his arms from the sleeves of his overcoat.

“No- Mulder, don’t, I’m fine.”

“Move your legs,” he instructs, pulling the edge of the coat out from under her. He stands and drapes it around her shoulders before plopping back down on the grass next to her.

“Thanks,” she says. “Still, it’s getting late.”

He glances at his watch. “It’s seven-thirty on a Thursday. You got somewhere to be?” His arm bumps her shoulder companionably. “Come on, just a little longer. Maybe we’ll see something unidentified in the sky.”

He grins at her and the corner of her mouth twitches in reply. “Well, I guess I don’t have a choice,” she sighs. “You drove us here.”

He feels a slight increase of pressure against his arm and realizes that Scully is ever so slightly leaning into him. A gentle warmth glows in his belly, and he glances sidelong at her.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch, he thinks.

“How so?” Scully asks.

Oh. He said it out loud. He clears his throat, tries to steer his thoughts back into safer waters.

“Well, for one thing, I’m not dead,” he says. “Not for lack of trying.”

Scully nods solemnly.

“I’ve seen incredible things, things people spend their whole lives looking for, hoping for, believing in. I’ve tasted proof, held the truth in my hands. And in spite of everything, I’m still here. We’re still here. That’s pretty goddamn lucky.”

“I don’t feel very lucky,” Scully says softly. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve fucked up every good thing I’ve ever had a chance at. My father certainly thought so, at least for a long time.”

They sit silently for a moment. “Without you, I’d be long dead,” Mulder admits.

“I know,” Scully replies. “I’m always awed by your resilience, actually. I can’t take all the credit for your continued survival.”

“Yeah, you can,” he says, getting to his feet and dusting stray blades of grass off his slacks. He holds out a hand and helps her to her feet. Her fingers are cool against his palm, and he wonders if she’d notice if he didn’t let go. Probably.

He wants to pull her in by the lapels of his coat, gather her to his chest, hold her for no reason other than he can. Kiss her brow, smell her hair, feel her small hands sliding under his suit jacket. He wants her just as she is, for exactly who she is.

But he’s a chickenshit, so instead he just walks beside her along the Tidal Basin, under the cherry blossoms, and doesn’t hold her hand.

They spend the five minute drive back to the Bureau in comfortable silence. Scully leans her head against the car window, and Mulder briefly wonders if she’ll fall asleep. He loves when she nods off while he’s driving; it makes him feel safe. She makes him feel safe.

He parks a few spots away from her car in the Bureau parking garage, turns off the engine. Scully gathers up her briefcase, leaving Mulder’s coat draped open on the passenger seat.

“Why are you getting out?” she asks, seeing Mulder unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I need a file from the office,” he lies. He exits the car and goes around to her side. “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s on my way.”

It’s twenty feet from her car to his. “Thank you, Mulder,” Scully says sardonically, fishing her keys out of her coat pocket. “If I weren’t armed, that would have been very thoughtful of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies. He takes a step forward.

“What are you doing?” Scully asks, one hand on her car door, keys in the other.

“Nothing,” he replies quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” God, she’s so small, this could so easily go wrong-

He pitches forward, bending down, and presses his lips to the fullness of her cheek. His nose brushes the soft skin under her eye and he inhales sharply, drawing back.

They blink at each other. “Bye,” Mulder offers.

Scully nods. “Yes. Goodnight.” She glances to the elevators. “Was there actually a file you needed?”

He just looks at her, and she presses her lips together in understanding. “Right. Well, I’m leaving, so… see you tomorrow then.”

Right. Despite recent events, the earth was still spinning.

Later, when he hangs his overcoat, he notices the faintest scent of her shampoo on the collar.

#awwwwwwwww they're so awkward and dumb #impersonal #my fic #txf fic #xfiles #msr #slow burn #also pls listen to 'Agape' by Nicolas Britell while reading this chapter it's the Vibe

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cilliansgirl · 4 years ago

Text

his lioness pt. 1 ✹ peter pevensie x reader

Pairing: Aslan x female!reader (platonic), Peter Pevensie x female!reader

Characters: Aslan, Lucy Pevensive, Susan Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Caspian, & characters of my own.

Warnings: mention of weapons and war, sexual tension, like one cuss word

Era: Caspian (just believe that they stayed after)

Summary: Princess Y/N of Archenland assumed the throne overnight, as her parents and older brother were mysteriously killed in a shipwreck off the Eastern Sea. She knows that the death of her parents and brother was not a coincidence, yet the traumatic event begins her prophecy. The prophecy of Aslan’s lioness, the noblest warrior of Narnia. To obey the prophecy, she leaves Archenland to her two younger brothers, who are barely old enough to rule the kingdom logically. All tension with the High King aside, she will become High Queen Y/N, Aslan’s Lioness. Six years after leaving Archenland and becoming High King Peter’s wife, there are threats stirring in foreign lands. There is a war approaching all of Narnia, and Aslan has trained her from birth for this moment. There is a war coming, and she is going to be the one to stop it, with help of course.

Status: Unedited, Posted on Sat. December 26, 2020 (10:25 pm)

She walked out of the hidden castle towards her mother’s extraordinary flower garden. That’s where she always went to get fresh air. Her white and gold dress ruffled gently in the cold wind as she pulled her red dress robe closer to her body. The cold air nipped at her nose, causing her to look flushed. Rarely did it snow in her part of Narnia, but when it did, she relished in the feeling of the chilled air. She approached the stone bench and tucked her dress in before sitting herself appropriately on the bench.

“You shouldn’t be out here, you know?” She ridiculed.

“You’re out here,” the little voice squeaked out.

“I’m getting some fresh air, I couldn’t sleep,” she responded.

The head of a young blonde boy, roughly 10 years old, poked around the tree. He reluctantly walked towards her in his bundled up form.

“Perhaps I could keep you company?” he asked her pleadingly.

“I think it would be better if you headed up to bed, Finn.”

He nodded and stood up, kissing his sister on the cheek before heading off for the night. After a few more moments, a chill ran down her spine as a white wolf peaked its head out of the edge of the forest. The wolf and she sat in comfortable silence as if they could read one’s mind. She knew what it meant. She knew that it was a sign; a sign that tomorrow was going to be a greater day and she had to fulfill her prophecy.

After the wolf had broken eye contact and sulked back into the forest, she brushed off her dress with her cold, delicate hands, heading back into the castle.

She woke up early morning before the sunrise and packed all of her valuable belongings in a drawstring leather bag. She dressed in her training clothing: blue trousers, a white blouse, and a waist belt with a black riding coat over it all. With the leather bag thrown over her shoulder, she quietly made her way to the armory, careful not to wake anyone in the echoing walls of the castle. Opening her designated cupboard in the corner of the armory, she quickly fastened the hilt of her sword to her belt. She was courteous with making sure her daggers were also fit snugly in her boots. Looking back up, her eyes caught sight of the bow and arrows once belonging to her mother. Giving in, she hastily grabbed the bow and arrows, throwing the quiver over her shoulders, as a firm grip remained on the bow. She gently closed the cupboard, making her way to the adjacent stables.

Without starling any of the other horses, her petite but bold figure made her way over to her horse. They looked relevantly similar if one pondered on the topic. A fine horse he was, a strong one. She was the same: strong and determined to always do the right thing. She named him Borin, from where she had found him astray. She discovered him in the forest when she was a little girl; he was attempting his best to hide behind a pine tree. Hints the name, ‘bor’ the Slovenian word for “pine tree.”

“Borin,” she whispered, delicately stroking his mane, “it is time to go.”

As if the stallion had known his duty, he leaned his head into her touch before she saddled on. Immediately, they rode out of the stables and into the courtyard of the kingdom. The kingdom was quiet but the sun was starting to rise, meaning she had little time. Before she reached the entrance gate to the kingdom, she pulled Borin’s reins causing him to halt. She turned her head to look at the castle she called home. She sighed, knowing that she’s leaving her two younger brothers to become the kings without a queen. With one last goodbye, she whispered, “Farewell, Archenland.” Whipping the reigns, Borin set off towards the Dancing Lawn, where he would be waiting for her. After resting at about midday, she and Borin had gotten past the Bulgy Bears, which meant that the Dancing Lawn should be only one or two more terms.

Finally, she had arrived. There was a small pond that was on the far edge of the field, so she allowed Borin to trot over there before she had dismantled. After she had dismantled, she unhooked a satchel from the stallion’s saddle, opening it and spilling out the contents, which happened to be food for Borin.

“Eat up while we wait for him,” she said, petting his crest before she made her own way to sit next to the large horse. Not long after waiting a large shadow cast over her sitting form. Eventually, the heavy steps ceased as the large figure relaxed next to her.

“Hello, Princess Y/N, or should I say, High Queen,” the gruff but soothing voice spoke.

“I cannot be considered a High Queen if I was never crowned,” Y/N responded back.

“And for that, my dear, I apologize, but there are much bigger things to worry about.”

Y/N huffed, “Like my prophecy?”

The golden lion’s head turned towards her, immediately noticing the confliction upon her features blankly staring at her surroundings.

“You’re not happy,” he stated, a matter of factly.

“No, I’m not happy Aslan! My parents, the King and Queen of Archenland, and my brother are dead from a shipwreck, kickstarting my stupid prophecy. I had to leave my two younger brothers alone with the kingdom staff last night and I will probably not see them for however many years! Who knows? Then, I have to marry Peter, for Aslan’s sake!”

He chuckled, “I would appreciate you not using my name in vain while I am in your presence. I thought you were happy about marrying Peter?”

She sniffled, “Sorry. I am. Aslan, I am thrilled to marry Peter because he is the man I love; it just sounds impossible. How am I, a princess from a foreign land, your lioness? How am I supposed to be the noblest Narnian warrior and wife of the High King if I haven’t even become ruler of Archenland?”

“Nothing is impossible, dear one. In this world or in another.”

“So what’s the next step in all of this?”

“I would like you to come with me to Cair Paravel. That way we can start the arrangements for the wedding. ”

She nodded, but with hesitation, “What happens when Archenland finds out that I went to Cair Paravel to marry Peter?”

“You will be fine. There will not be a war. Archenland diplomats will see it as a permanent alliance. I promise.”

She signed heavily, bringing herself to lay on Aslan’s back.

“Will you be there with me?”

“I will be there to guide you and visit you all in good time. As for now, I am very busy teaching the others how to run a kingdom,” he spoke calmly.

Y/N smiled at the thought, “How’s Lucy?”

Aslan responded, “She is doing very well; growing into a very fine queen, indeed. She reminds me of a young you.”

Y/N pondered, “In what way?”

Aslan chuckled, “Well, she is very adventurous. Lucy has the urge to explore everything, much as you did. Her aspect of curiosity, moral stability, and social relations makes her one of the most courageous women in Cair Paravel. If she were any braver, she would be a lioness.”

Both she and Aslan laughed whole-heartedly. After all had settled down, she had fallen asleep on Aslan and Borin was asleep as well.

“Rest well, little lion. There is a war coming and you’re going to stop it,” he whispered as his own head rested snugly against hers, making her instinctively move close to Aslan, seeking warmth.

As the sun rose and the kingdom of Cair Paravel busied, Peter was patiently waiting for Y/N’s arrival.

“Peter,” Susan pestered, placing her book down on the library table.

The room fell silent, the bustling of the rest of the castle could be faintly heard outside of the grand wooden doors. Before Susan could speak, there was a rapid set of heavy footsteps approaching the door before it swung open, revealing an out-of-breath Caspian. “She’s here,” he breathed out before Peter could rush past him, Susan following close behind.

Y/N rode into the kingdom, her head held high. Orieus was on her right and an unnamed Minotaur on her left, guiding her into the castle’s courtyard, so that she could be greeted properly by the king and so Borin could be taken care of properly. Once reaching the middle of the courtyard, Caspian greeted her with an outstretched hand, to which she accepted with a smile. He helped her dismantle Borin as one of the stable boys insisted on leading Borin to his own stable. Another knight, clearly one of high authority asked if he could take the weaponry out of the way, to which she responded that they are very special to her and should be handled with the utmost care.

After everyone somewhat settled down she turned back to Caspian and practically jumped in his arms, engulfing him in a hug. He accepted, wrapping his own arms around her waist but being courteous because he knew Peter was carefully watching the scene play out.

“Oh Aslan, I missed you all so much,” Y/N sighed.“Come,” Capsian spoke as they pulled away, “The others are waiting for you inside.”

Y/N was guided inside the castle, Caspian leading her to the Great Hall, where everyone was waiting. Once the extraordinary engraved doors opened, Y/N was bombarded suddenly with a big hug from a small girl. “Hello, Lucy,” she smiled, tightening the hug.

After Lucy unwrapped her arms from around Y/N’s neck, Y/N was finally able to observe her surroundings. Edmund and Susan stood behind Lucy, small smiles on their faces. Peter was farther back in the room, but nonetheless beaming at Y/N. There were a few royal guards and few maidens scattered throughout the room. After Lucy had moved out the way, Y/N tightly hugged Susan and Edmund, greeting and making small talk with each one.

Once Susan was finished talking about the books Y/N has suggested to her, Y/N made her way over to Peter. Susan ushered Lucy, Edmund, and Caspian out of the Great Hall as well as the guards and maidens.

“Hello, my King,” Y/N curtsied.

Peter rolled his eyes, “Please, it is just us. No need for formalities.”

Once Y/N stood back up, Peter pulled a large ring out of his pocket, “I suppose this is for you.”

“Aren’t you going to make it seem like you want to marry me?” Y/N jokingly back.

Peter chuckled, looking down at the ring for a moment before meeting her ethereal features, “I mean, I had tried to formally propose but then you screamed at me because I was doing it before the fight with Miraz.”

She stepped forward, taking his hands in hers, slipping the ring on the ring finger of her left hand, “Yes, well. Your mind should have been completely focused on not dying in the fight, not me becoming your wife.”

Before Peter could say anything, Edmund had cracked open the double doors of the Hall, “I really do hate to intrude but the entirety of the kingdom is waiting for you both to make the formal declaration.”

“Yes, I had almost forgotten,” Peter smiled, gently wrapping his left arm around Y/N’s waist as they both proceeded to walk out of the Great Hall towards the balcony that displayed over all the kingdom.

As Peter and Y/N made their appearance, the crowd erupted in excitement. Y/N took this time to observe her surroundings. Peter and she stood dead center, Susan and Lucy standing off to the right behind the pair, yet Caspian and Edmund standing to the left. She took the time to watch the faces of those in the crowd, for she was always yearned to be intimate with the commoners of her kingdom. There were middle-aged commoners, kids, too; scattered in the crowds were skippers, royal guards, and creatures of the Great Forest. It brought joy to Y/N’s heart to see that all of them gathered just for the announcement of Peter and her’s wedding.

The kingdom’s trumpets sounded, signaling the crowd to cease their cheering. After the crowd had settled, the colonel of the royal guards stepped forward.

He spoke loudly, “May I present, High King Peter the Magnificent and his wife, High Queen Y/N the Lioness.”

As soon as the declaration finished, the cheering roared louder than it did before. The cheering brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Peter tightened his hold on Y/N’s waist, causing her attention to focus on him. As soon as she looked up at him, he captured her lips in a delicate but passionate kiss, causing the crowd to ignite in happiness. Y/N gladly excepted, kissing him back before pulling away. Peter and she both waved to the crowd before heading back inside the castle.

Once back inside, there was a maiden waiting for the King and Queen. Peter’s hand left Y/N’s waist as he allowed his hand to linger on the woman’s waist. He smiled, gesturing towards the maiden.

“My Queen,” he started, “this is your maiden, Emma. She will help you with anything that you will need. I have to go to some meetings, but I will be back by the time you are preparing for bed. Emma said she would be happy to show you the in’s and out’s of the castle while I am away.”

Y/N nodded at Peter, smiling at the maiden as she returned the gesture. Before leaving the corridor, Peter leaned down to give a quick farewell peck on Y/N’s lips.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” he questioned as Y/N nodded in response.

The blonde-haired boy turned to Emma, “Thank you again for showing her around while I am gone.”

She curtsied, “Of course, your highness, I wish you the best of luck on your political duties.”

And with that, he was gone out the door, leaving Emma with Y/N. As the night went along, Emma and Y/N became quite the pair. As a matter of fact, they were the best of friends.

Later that night, after Emma had helped Y/N prepare to bathe, Y/N had sent Emma back to her quarters for the night. When Peter had come through the large engraved door, Y/N was in her night slip, brushing her hair in her mirror.

“Hello, darling,” he gently stated.

“Hey, Pete.”

He strode over to give her a kiss on the crown of her head, his hands rubbing gently atop her shoulders.

“How did the meeting go?”

Peter breathed in deeply, “Oh, you know, Edmund is a lot more persuasive than I could have wondered.”

“Please Peter, I figured that out a long time ago,” Y/N scolded.

Peter shrugged, “I guess I never thought about it. Now, if you don’t mind, I am going to freshen up before bed.”

“Mhmm, sounds good,” Y/N replied.

The two were in their shared bed. Y/N sinking into Peter’s strong embrace. Y/N had cracked open the balcony doors so that the cool air could circulate throughout the room. She hadn’t been able to close her eyes without drowning her mind with doubtful thoughts. She rolled over so that she was now facing Peter. She looked up and saw him peacefully sleeping, but she wouldn’t go to sleep without his lulling.

“Peter,” she whispered, placing one of her hands on the upper chest.

“Hmm?” he responded tiredly.

“I’m scared of this.”

He peeked through one of his eyes to look down at her mesmerizing features, “You are one of the strongest women I know. You are willing to do anything for the good of others. And I know how hard it was to be pulled from Archenland, but I am completely faithful that you are going to fit in perfectly in the Narnian kingdom and treat the kingdom and the people in it as your own. As far as I know, we are doing every step together. Every step of the way, no matter how long it takes.”

Y/N sighed, wrapping her arms around Peter’s torso, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Princess,” Peter groggily spoke, kissing her forehead sloppily.

After a few more moments, Peter easily resumed sleep as Y/N fell asleep with the comfort of Peter’s words flowing through her mind.

#peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie #narnia #narnia x reader #aslan the lion #caspian imagine #king caspian #king peter the magnificent #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #caspian x reader #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #voyage of the dawn treader #prince caspian #aslan x reader

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vampiric-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Severance

Jasper x Reader

This is Part 4 of the Jasper miniseries. Here is Part 1.

Summary: Jasper approaches you one evening and tries to make things right - but between your fear and your lust, you find time to question the motives of him and the rest of his family.

Word Count: 5,057

“(Y/N), please come with me.” Jasper’s voice pulled you out of your shock. You never thought you’d ever see Jasper Hale standing in your bedroom. Sure, you’d thought about it almost every night, but you never thought he’d be standing there under these conditions.

“No.” Your voice sounded firm. You kept your breath steady, refusing to succumb to the hysterics that had preyed on you earlier that day. His molten gold eyes softened. He took a cautious step towards you, but stopped as you met him with a glare.

“You figured it out all on your own,” he spoke his words slowly, as if he was afraid of scaring you away again. “I know you have a lot of questions, and I will answer them for you. But before I do, I need to be sure we’re talking about the same thing. I need you to say the word out loud.”

“You say it.”

He exhaled sharply, “I can’t. I can’t say anything until I know you’ve put it together entirely on your own.”

It was there, lingering in your mouth, impatient to be spoken but afraid to drip from your tongue. “Va-” It wouldn’t come out. Just say it. Vampire. You were in love with a vampire.

“Please, (Y/N).” Was he serious about telling you the truth, or was this all a ploy to see if they could trust you? Did they send him here to kill you? All of this had started from your silly crush on him. Was it his job to dispose of you?

You swallowed hard, and then the word fell out. “Vampire.”

The word hung in the atmosphere, turning the frigid air so brittle it could snap. He glued his eyes to you, but you could only look at the ground as your cheeks burned. How silly it sounded out loud. You may as well have called him a fairy. Your teeth nipped at your bottom lip as your last shred of confidence diminished, stranding you with dread and anticipation for the mocking laughter that never came.

Jasper denied nothing.

“I tried to give you answers at school today, but you wouldn’t follow me.” He took another step towards you; careful and steady, leaving a muddy footprint in his wake.

“Are you going to kill me because I found out?” You looked at him then. He seemed so out of place, surrounded by your mess; and thoughts of dreams you’d had of him coming to your room like this contrasted with the cold reality that threatened to devour you.

“No,” Jasper stopped you in your tracks. “We aren’t like that. We’re different from our kind, we don’t hurt humans.”

“But don’t you… drink blood?” That brought your attention to each pulse of your heart. It made you aware of the warmth rushing through your veins; and how gratifying it might feel for Jasper if he sank his teeth into the soft flesh guarding your neck.

Jasper took another wary step closer to you. “Think of us like vegetarians. We don’t drink blood from humans, but from animals instead-”

“So, you bite neighbourhood pets?” You tried to lighten the mood, hoping to distract him from your growing anxiety with humour. Jasper returned a polite chuckle, seeming to understand.

“Think more like mountain lions and bears.” A sudden flash of delicate little Alice tearing at the throat of a mountain lion made you shudder.

Jasper glanced around. “(Y/N), please know that I understand your discomfort and I don’t want to worsen it, but your house won’t be empty for much longer. It isn’t safe to have this conversation here, and I know you won’t wait until tomorrow. Please come with me, and I swear I will return you safely. The minute you say you want to come back home, I’ll stop everything and make it so.”

You wanted to take the plunge—you were already alone with him, so how different would it be? But the thought of being the single human among a family of vampires—vegetarian or not—begged you to refuse. Though it wasn’t like the last time you had spoken to him; it wasn’t like when Alice or Rosalie or Emmett had approached you. This time, your gut fought its natural survival instincts and told you that the sincerity splashed across Jasper’s refined features rang true.

“I’ll go with you on two conditions.” Jasper held eye-contact; ready to abide by your rules. “One; you keep your promise and bring me home as soon as I ask for it.”

“Of course, (Y/N).” He gave you his word. “And the second condition?”

“I get to leave a note behind saying I went with you in case something happens. Neither you nor your family can touch it, hide it, or edit it. If you meant what you said about not hurting humans, accountability shouldn’t be too harsh a term.”

He followed you into the kitchen where you grabbed an orange sticky-note and began writing a quick message. “There is no reason for us to meddle with it. You’ll be safe.”

“You guys can’t steal it either, like I know you did with my notebook.”

Anyone else would have missed the quick flash of hurt in his eyes, but you caught it right before he masked it. “My family and I aren’t the evil people you think we are. But that notebook is evidence, and therefore a danger to our existence. We can’t have it falling into the wrong hands.”

You frowned, “I wasn’t going to…”

“We know that now, but we can’t risk anybody else finding it.”

“Is… Is that why you guys were so unkind to me? Was I close to figuring it out?” Despite the supernatural discoveries and truth, being treated like that by those so close to the guy you liked had stung you deeply. If you were correct about him having an emotion-influencing ability, it was likely he knew how you were feeling. Jasper didn’t answer.

“We need to go, now,” was all he said. You grabbed your keys as he led you out the front door to where his motorbike was parked on your front lawn. He passed you a black helmet. “I’ll answer more questions when we get there—whatever you want. I’ll stay by your side until sunrise if that’s how you want it.”

You took the helmet from him, grazing his hand on purpose. It was just as cold as last time. You took his hand in yours and held it for a moment. He didn’t pull away yet, and allowed you to press your soft, warm flesh against his icy marble skin. It was hard like stone. You turned his hand so that his palm was facing upwards and traced it with your finger; slowly grazing from his palm to his wrist, noting the absence of veins but the appearance of bite marks, similar to Bella’s; though larger in quantity. He pulled away from you, then.

“The sooner we leave, the sooner you can ask me everything.” He put his own helmet on, likely for the sake of appearances, and sat on the bike. You followed him.

“What, you aren’t going to turn into a bat and fly me there?” you asked as the motorcycle revved.

A genuine chuckle escaped his lips. “No, that’s a myth; and I didn’t want to scare you with our natural method of travel.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist as the bike took off slowly, building speed. “What is it?”

He didn’t answer you; not that you would have been able to hear him as you ripped through the wind, wondering if you were on the road to certain death. As hard as your heart was beating; both from the uncertainty and the physical contact, the smell of Jasper, of fresh citrus and some sort of flowery scent, made you never want to let go. You waited for him to speed up again, to give you an excuse to hold on tighter. The town of Forks faded away, your surroundings growing deeper and denser with forest. Before long, you could see the Cullen house through the trees.

It wasn’t at all what you had expected. You hadn’t thought of gloomy castles with dungeons or anything, but the openness of the architecture surprised you. The house was large and extravagant, easily worth millions. The bright colours stood out against the greens and browns of the surrounding woods; and the rectangular shapes and wide windows introduced a stunning, modern feel.

Jasper parked the motorcycle in the driveway, hanging his helmet on one handlebar. You copied him. “Are you going to tell me everything, now?”

“(Y/N), I’ve admitted to being a vampire and brought you to my home. Don’t you want to poke around?”

“Loitering outside the lion’s den is risky enough; there’s no way I’m walking straight in.” You spotted a log in the distance; blanketed in thick, green moss that was definitely not inside his house. He followed behind and sat beside you.

“What do you want to know?”

You didn’t even know where to start. Combing through what you already knew, you thought it best to elaborate a little. “Why do your eyes change colour?”

“They change based on feeding. When we’re full, they look like mine always do. But when we’re hungry, they darken.”

“So, do you… overeat or something? I’ve never seen your eyes look any different.”

He shifted his weight. “I prefer to be well-fed when in the presence of humans; particularly in high-density areas like high schools.”

Stupid question. “O-Of course. You guys wouldn’t want any accidents… Have there been any accidents? Have you ever killed someone?” When you asked him this, it was because you were embarrassed about asking such an obvious question. You tried to cover it up by rambling. So, when Jasper’s gaze lowered to the forest floor and his lips sealed shut, the shock of it made you jolt. He had.

“You’re getting scared. I can feel it. (Y/N) I promise that was a long time ago and as difficult as this diet is for me, I’m getting better and better every day.”

The next question shot out of your mouth like a bullet. “Exactly how safe am I with you right now? You’re getting better? Is it hard for you to be near me right now?”

“You’re very safe. The others are inside and will stop me if anything happens.” The way he spoke about the prospect of murdering you was so uncomfortably casual, like it happened all the time. It was as if a thousand disapproving eyes were glaring down at you, wondering what the hell you were thinking by coming here.

“When was the last time you killed—no—when was the last time you tried to kill somebody? Successful or not?” Bella’s bitten wrist was at the forefront of your mind as you waited for an explanation. “Did you give Bella that bite?”

“No, that was from another vampire. He’s dead now; but he drank human blood and went after Bella.” Jasper paused, studying you with his citrine stare. “This isn’t helping. You’re still afraid.”

“Am I already in danger because I know?”

Jasper slid closer, bridging the gap between you. “Not so long as no one else finds out.”

“I’ve told you I won’t tell anyone.” It hurt that he didn’t seem to trust you; like this entire thing was an excuse for the Cullens to follow up on your character. You stuffed your hands in your pockets and looked at the dirt beneath you; wondering if that was how the Cullens thought of you. Dirt. For liking Jasper, they probably hated you; Edward certainly seemed to feel that way. Perhaps their apologies only came once their rudeness drew too much of your attention? Little did they know.

“Other vampires,” Jasper’s clarification interrupted your spiralling mind. “So long as no vampires find out.”

“What about Bella? Is she-”

His next words slashed your heart like a knife. “Bella’s situation with Edward is different to yours and mine.”

The reminder knocked the wind out of you. It was the truth; the vampire you had fallen in love with wasn’t available, and you solving the mystery of his true nature would not change that. It would not impress him so much that he’d slide into bed with you and abandon the girl who—for all you knew—he had been with for hundreds of years. An unkind part of you wanted to kiss Jasper there and then; just to get something out of this mess. Or was it to prove to him you could be like Edward and Bella? A powerful urge to further insert yourself fought to take over. It couldn’t be that difficult. He wasn’t too far to miss. You fought back against the desire.

“Can we go inside? I-If that’s still okay… I’m cold.” You disregarded your fear about entering a vampire’s lair. Now, you wanted to see where he lived, and sat, and watched TV.

Your hands were still stuffed in your pockets, freezing. You wondered if they would be the same temperature as his now. You got your answer as he held your hands in his, gently helping you stand; ever the gentleman. Every instance of chivalry you had watched him perform for Alice ran through your brain like a movie. It was a habit of his time. His hard marble skin contrasted with your own soft flesh as you fought the urge to entwine your fingers with his; to bring your lips to his, to make him press you against a tree.

Instead, he pulled you up and then let go of you without a second thought. Shame weighed down your shoulders. He winced, not looking at you now. Your voice trembled. “Can you sense emotions?”

“Yes.”

Did that include lust?

You changed the subject, not daring to ask for elaboration. “When we go in… is everyone—are their eyes going to be gold?”

He seemed to relax as you said that; chuckling softly, like music to your ears. “Nobody is thirsty, so yes. You’ll be fine in there. They want to see you for themselves again, though. And there are some things Alice would like to clarify.”

Alice. Would she pull you aside and intimidate you? Stay away from my boyfriend or I’ll literally kill you?

You swallowed thickly, following Jasper up to the front door of the house. Inside, his home was light and inviting. The walls were painted white, and there was a lot of open space. Various paintings decorated the walls, including an enormous picture frame filled with a rainbow of graduation caps. Your lips curled as you got the joke.

“Where is everyone?” Knowing they were aware of your presence was startling, in a way. Could they smell you the whole time you were outside? Had they heard what you were saying? An overwhelming sense of dread consumed you as you realised who else would be waiting. Did Edward hear you contemplating kissing Jasper? You hadn’t seen Edward at all since the incident at school. He hadn’t approached you like the others had, and the mere thought of seeing him again after all his mind-reading made your knees quiver.

Jasper didn’t reply and continued to walk. You followed behind him, sticking closer than he probably would have liked.

Alice was the first to reveal herself, meeting you at the top of the white staircase. Her usual beaming smile was absent from her face as she looked between you both. “(Y/N), thank you for coming.” Bile rose in your throat; you wanted to throw up. Edward had likely told her about what you were thinking outside. You couldn’t speak and only nodded your head in response. You risked a glance at Jasper, who was staring intensely at his girlfriend; but Alice’s attention was fixed on you. She took a small step closer to you. Her usual voice, as graceful as wind chimes, sounded cracked. “Can I borrow you first?”

Jasper’s eyes were downcast while Alice’s held an edge of urgency. “O-Okay… Um-”

“I won’t be long, Jaz.” She cut through your mumbling, still not looking at Jasper. He nodded, jaw clenched, and walked past her, deeper into the house. Alice seemed to relax after he left and took your hands in her cold ones. “How are you feeling about everything?”

That was the last thing you had expected to hear from her just then. “I’m fine… considering.”

Her smile returned, adding sugar to her sweet, honeyed eyes. “I want to take it upon myself to explain what really happened. I’m sorry I lied to you at the café—but we have an important secret to protect and I just couldn’t-”

“I get it, it’s fine. But now I’m wondering, did I actually deserve it?”

“(Y/N), come with me.” She twirled around and fluttered down a hallway to your right. She led you to a room covered in everything Alice. Walking through the door was like having her entire personality punch you in the face at once. Like the rest of the house, the walls were painted white, and the ceilings were to the heavens. All-white modern furniture decorated the space; accompanied by some mannequins modelling some of Alice’s nicer luxury pieces by the vanity. White, floating bookshelves hovered on the back wall beside modern artworks and posters of fashion designs. Enlarged photos of Alice and Jasper in black-and-white decorated the walls on the opposite side. A pile of designer clothing was heaped onto the enormous, white bed on the left side of the room.

“Couldn’t decide what to wear?” You cracked a joke as you took everything in. Alice returned a smile.

“At least someone around here understands.”

Looking at the intricately designed headboard, the words left your mouth before you could stop them. “You don’t sleep in coffins?” You looked at her wide-eyed. Just because Jasper was okay with the stereotypes, it didn’t mean Alice would be.

“Oh, no. That’s a myth. We don’t sleep.”

“At all?” You looked between her and the gigantic bed, and then realisation clicked. A pang of jealousy twisted your insides as you understood exactly how the bed was used. You recalled Jasper’s old words. So, Alice and I will have the entire house to ourselves again, which is always a pleasurable time.

As if sensing where your mind was going, she changed the subject. “There are some things that I need to explain—with the truth, this time—I promise. Please, take a seat wherever you like.”

After seeing the bed and knowing what its sole purpose was, you couldn’t stop yourself from spitefully sitting right on it .. “Did I freak you guys out back then or something?”

“(Y/N), we know you’re already aware of what Edward and Jasper can do. My gift is seeing the future. It’s a little flimsier than what you’re imagining. I can see the decisions people make and then what the outcomes of those decisions will be. And I’ve been having quite a few visions about you.” You watched her, mouth hanging open, waiting for her to continue because you didn’t know how to respond to that. What had she seen? What decisions had you made without realising? Alice continued, “I saw you finding out we were vampires early on. During your fascination with Jasper, you noticed the same things you ended up noticing, anyway. In the vision, you reacted differently. You let your fear rule you, and you came close to exposing our secret.”

“Did you kill me?” You asked. “In the vision?”

“No, but the decisions themselves were fragile. I had three unique visions about you in one day, all in which you found out about us. And in only one of them, you kept our secret. At first I didn’t realise how you were figuring everything out, but Edward heard your thoughts about Jasper and we put it together. We tried to wean you off of him; so Jasper talked to you more - but only about me and how happy we were. The plan was to make you stop liking him so you’d stop noticing things—but it backfired. Jasper used his gift on you when you were too close to figuring it out. Edward suggested a colder approach, which was too hard for Jasper as he could feel everything you were feeling.

“Then, I met you at the café and tried to smooth over the situation. We approached it differently again. So, we treated you kindly and acted like the entire thing was just Edward running on a tangent—but my visions about the outcome were murky. They kept changing. Sometimes you’d figure it out and react badly, other times you’d let it go and move on from us, and only once did you find out and accept us. I think we’re living in that vision now.”

It was a lot to take in, and you had so many questions; but the one that came out was, “I can’t imagine trying to tell anyone about any of this.”

“The whole Edward-as-the-scapegoat story wasn’t a complete lie. When he read your mind, he saw that you would often fantasise about-” she paused, almost as if she was about to choke. “About separating Jasper and myself. Jasper had no intentions of letting that happen—but Edward wondered if your disposition might change after you found out about everything. If you were capable of blackmail, or-”

“I’m not. So you can all chill out, if that’s what I’m really here for.” Your anger at Edward was justified, then. “For all of you to check if I’m safe.”

“My intention tonight wasn’t to upset you-”

“Jasper!” You called out. Behind you, one door to the adjoining rooms opened and Jasper emerged. “I want to go home now.”

“Of course.” You didn’t miss the look he gave Alice; it was one of frustration. And as before by the stairwell, Alice didn’t look back at him.

“Goodbye, (Y/N),” Alice’s angelic voice rang from behind you as you left the room. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.”

It didn’t take long for you to get back outside. The wind had picked up, and the air smacking against your face made it harder to hold back your tears. Jasper’s voice came as a comfort. “Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

You didn’t reply and only shook your head as a stream of tears spilled down your cheeks. The embarrassment of it all. These people truly thought the worst of you. Edward was still assuming your entire personality and relaying the most negative parts of it to the rest of his family; and Alice insinuated that you were a traitor. Meanwhile, all of this was happening in front of Jasper. You were now crying in front of him, and he wouldn’t even comfort you.

“What were you doing in the neighbouring room?” You wiped your tears on your sleeves.

“We have a closet and an office adjoined to our room, and I wanted to be nearby to keep my promise about taking you home.”

You were glad you were facing away from him, because you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your eyes shut and silently sobbing. Our room. They shared it; of course. You had been mistaken in thinking it only belonged to Alice. All the humiliation on top of the physical reminders that Jasper was spoken for was too much at once. You regretted ever going inside. Now you definitely wanted to throw up. The vampire thing should have scared you away from him. It should have made you run for the hills; and while you were still afraid from time to time, it somehow made you love him even more.

Jasper had moved closer to you while you cried, and you could feel his cold hand chilling your shoulder through the fabric of your shirt. “Are you ready to leave?”

You still had so many questions—the tension between Alice and Jasper being at the forefront of your mind. Had you caused it? But you couldn’t ask, not with your feelings already so out in the open. You had embarrassed yourself enough up to this point. So instead, you nodded and turned to face Jasper; no longer caring if he saw you cry. Your voice sounded raspy as you said, “I want you to use your gift to make me stop feeling sad. Will you?”

“You’re sure?” But he didn’t hesitate; and already the melancholy made way for contentment. You wiped the rest of the tears from your face.

“Thank you.” You wanted to ask him to do something else, but couldn’t will yourself to ask the question. He handed the motorcycle helmet to you for the second time that night, and you paused. “What’s your natural method of travel? The one you mentioned earlier?”

“We can run really fast. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, and faster than you could imagine. I’d be happy to run you home, but not if it will scare you.”

“It won’t.”

He gestured for you to climb onto his back, and you did; resisting the urge to bury your face in his neck. His muscular arms held you close as he reminded you softly, “Hold on as tightly as you can.”

Without another moment’s notice, he launched you through the forest at an impossible speed. The tall trees surrounding you morphed into an indistinguishable wall of brown and green, and the ground behind you moved so quickly it made your eyes blur. Before you could even think to breathe, Jasper had stopped outside your front door and the world around you was visible again. The world was spinning, and Jasper picked you up bridal-style and carried you through the front door to your bedroom; carefully laying you down on your bed and sitting beside you on the mattress. “You’ve had a big night, you should get some sleep.”

“Wait,” you called out before he could disappear. “What happens now?”

You wanted him to say he would call you tomorrow, or meet you somewhere. You wanted to be told that this would continue—but the serious look on Jasper’s face warned that you wouldn’t be hearing any of that. Conflicting looks crossed over his features as he looked like he was debating something within himself. “You should talk to Alice again when you can. There’s a lot more to her vision than what she explained to you. It’s important that you seek her when you’re ready to listen. It’s about you, and you deserve to know what she believes will be coming.” He added dryly, “You’ll like what she saw for you.”

“And what about you, though?”

“Because of… foreseen circumstances, Alice has asked for some distance in our relationship for now. I can feel her emotions. I know what she’s trying to do—and you’ll find out when you talk to her—but I can’t let her. Please understand this. Regardless of whatever Alice says to you, I need you to keep a distance from me.”

“But-”

“There is nothing you can say to change my mind, I meant what I said. I love Alice with my entire heart. We have been married since 1950. Now you know everything, there’s no reason for you and I to continue talking about it. Please talk to Alice; but listen to me. I will not leave my wife for you.”

That was the final blow; all you needed to push you into an unfamiliar territory; one where you wanted to sever the one-sided bond. You thought back at the question you didn’t ask him earlier and realised you might die if you didn’t. “I want you to use your gift again to help me achieve that. Every time I feel attracted to you, every time I love you or I want you… You have to quell it. I realise I’m in way over my head. I realise I am embarrassing myself by continuing to love you.” Jasper winced as you said the last sentence, but watched you intently as you continued. “I can’t stay away from you if I can’t get over you. I need help. Will you please put me out of my misery and control my feelings for me?”

“I can only do it while I’m in range. It’ll wear off-”

“It might at least condition me to stop thinking about you. I don’t know. Can we at least try it?”

His beautiful eyes locked with yours, and your heart felt lighter. As you watched the vampire in front of you, he looked less godlike, less devastating. Still conventionally attractive, you felt the adoration slip away as you studied his face, his hair, his body… Everything melted away and was replaced by neutrality. For the first time in a while, you stared at Jasper Hale and you didn’t want to kiss him, or hold him, or profess your love with him.

If anything, you wanted him out of your room.

And so, with one last look at you to make sure it worked, Jasper turned away from you and walked out the door.

For the first time in a long time, you could breathe again.

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @scuzmunkie @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oi-itsemily @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @aw0kenangel @jelly-fishy-babie @kawaiikpoplover268 @awkwardnesshabitat @salsameter @dillybuggg @awesomebooklover17 @badgirlsdeaddreams @raindancer2004 @camillapad @champagnejoker @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @starrybumbles @bubblegumcat229 @boywivlove @mauvette268 @pleasantlycrazyworld

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nsheetee · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: prince!yangyang x princess!reader genre: fluff, angst, medieval au (but not really), royalty au word count: 4.4k details: female reader, some cursing, other nct/wayv members as characters (jeno is kind of a douche), duel scene (mentions of blood/weapons), inclusivity notice; to the best of my awareness, I wrote this without mention of reader’s height, weight or skin/hair color. summary: yangyang is not pleased about being forced to marry you, the princess from the next kingdom over who is widely unliked. yangyang never expected to fall in love at first sight, and never expected to fight to the death for you, either.

the kingdom of wheyshen needs wheat

they always have, ever since the time that the kingdom boundaries were drawn between wheyshen and encity

not just wheat, but metal and fabrics as well, which were made in high quality by the people of encity as time went on and the separation between the two kingdoms widened

for several decades, wheyshen traded with the lee kingdom from far away

it became hard to transport goods, especially during winter and when the rogues in the forests would interfere with the shipping

so, one of the first things that kun did when his father handed him the king’s position in the kingdom was to strike up a deal with the neighboring kingdom for the highly necessary products

due to the complicated past of the two kingdoms, and because kun was willing to do anything to make the lives of his people easier, the deal was struck on one condition

the prince of wheyshen would have to marry the princess of encity

and kun knew he was about to get an earful from his little brother when he told him the news

“what?!” yangyang almost threw his chair back as he stood up, “who gave you the permission to marry me off to some stranger??”

“the divine right to rule directly from the gods,” kun states monotonously, “and dad”

“I don’t care about the gods, they can go pull themselves out of their own asses. I'm not getting married.”

“you are. you don’t have to do it, like, tomorrow but you will get married to their princess.” kun explains

he moves closer to yangyang’s desk where he’s currently standing, tearing off grapes from the bowl of fruits on the desk and starts popping them into his mouth

“I heard their princess is a witch.” yangyang mumbles through his hand that’s supporting his cheek

kun gives him a blank stare, mouth filled with grapes, “she’s not a witch.”

“how do you know? have you ever met her?”

“no,” kun stops eating, “but if she is, wouldn’t you be the person to think it’s cool to have a witch princess as a wife? she could, like, make potions for you and stuff.”

“that’s not the point.” yangyang whines, dropping back down into his seat, “she’s not even liked by her own kingdom because of all the rumors around her. people haven’t seen her since she was a baby.” yangyang whispers the last part

“you sure do know a lot about your future wife already.” kun laughs

“the prince’s club talks about her a lot.”

the prince’s club is a group of all the prince’s in the area, not minding any kingdom boundaries or past histories

kun was once a part of the club, he knows what goes on during their meetings and what is talked about during the club’s horse rides

he’s 99.9% sure everyone is just over exaggerating

“well, you’ll be the first person to see her and find out for yourself. their whole family is coming over to sign the final contract in a few days.” kun puts his foot down on the matter

“I hate you.” yangyang says in a cutesy and high-pitched manner

“I hate you, too, demon child.” kun replies back as he walks out of yangyang’s study, “and don’t think even about running away or I'll chain you to your bed for the next few nights.”

“kun.... don’t say it like that.”

the few days between kun’s conversation with yangyang and the arrival of your family goes by quick, and pretty soon, yangyang is standing outside of the front doors of the wheyshen castle waiting for you

his family aren’t the only ones out here

there are servants, noble men and women, and knights who have all gathered this morning to catch the first glimpse of you

your carriages are like a parade through the front yard of the castle, and finally they all stop and the driver of one carriage opens the door

first steps out the king, your dad, after that the queen, and after that their oldest son, who is next in line for the throne

yangyang remembers his name is doyoung; he has never met him personally, but he heard that there is a very big stick up his ass

yangyang wonders if you’re like your older brother

everyone holds their breath when another hand pops out of the carriage, covered in a glove and grasped by your brother’s grip

he helps you step out, and the whole lawn of people greeting you gasp in wonder as everyone sees you for the very first time

you are the definition of a princess

the aura around you, how you hold yourself and how you hold a strong gaze with the people around you shakes everyone with curiosity and adoration

yangyang doesn’t even notice what you’re wearing or the tiara on your head, he can only see the gaze you send him as your feet delicately touch the ground

murmurs rise out of the crowd but quickly end when your family moves closer to yangyang’s, people dropping down to their knees to bow at royalty

your father politely greets kun, exchanging some words of congratulations to kun’s new position as king

there’s some more greetings exchanged between queens and yangyang’s father as he sits in a chair, too frail to stand up, but yangyang is only looking at you

warmth seeps into his chest and down to his stomach, like a flood of feelings he has never felt before

the flood covers his heart and makes it beat faster

it’s a scary feeling, but so exhilarating and addicting, as if yangyang is riding his prized race horse as fast as he can go through the fields behind the castle

the chatter between your families dies down and the attention suddenly turns to you two, making yangyang even more nervous

if you’re feeling any emotion similar to the ones that he’s feeling, you’re hiding it pretty well

yangyang feels kun lightly push on his shoulder and it effectively snaps him out of his reverie

“I'm pleased to meet you.” yangyang can barely get the words out of his mouth, feeling like peanut butter is stuck to his tongue

he reaches forward and gently takes your gloved hand in his, kissing the top of your knuckles, looking up at you afterwards

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” with your angelic voice and your soft smile towards him, yangyang feels like he just got KO-ed

his head is fuzzy and he’s sure he looks like a fool with his jaw slacked and gapping at you

however, both families start to move inside before yangyang can really process his embarrassment

people on the lawn start to scatter, still trying to get one good look at you as you walk side by side with yangyang into the castle

he almost jumps out of his skin when you talk to him, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him

“I heard you like horseback riding?” you ask, and yangyang can feel himself heat up

mentally, he’s beating himself up for reacting like this to a girl

he’s been around PLENTY of girls, but something about you is so highly and elevated that yangyang can’t help but fall into your palm and cozily stay there

“y-yeah. I do.” he answers simply, but the words felt like they took hours to think of and leave his mouth

“I do, too! we should go riding tomorrow after brunch.” you propose

“how about we go riding for brunch? we could have a picnic.” yangyang suddenly remembers a spot in the mountains where the sun isn’t blinding and the breeze is cool during this time of year

and then he realizes he just asked you to brunch and made plans with you as if you didn’t just meet 5 minutes ago

he heats up again, suddenly remembering who you are and who he is, and questioning how in the hell you can have him in a vegetative state in one minute and absolutely head over heels for you in the next

“sounds like a date!” you send him that smile of yours once again

yangyang trips over his shoes, sliding along the castle’s tile floor before quickly picking himself up again and walking forward as if nothing happened

(you try not to notice his fall, biting back a laugh)

yangyang can barely sleep that night, and when he does fall asleep, the moon is already lowering in the night sky

maybe that’s why yangyang is almost late to your brunch date

he’s running out of his room, pulling on his riding boots and practically launching himself around every corner of the castle

he runs into the kitchen and thanks the cooks who hand him a picnic basket (he’s moving too fast to see them roll their eyes at him)

sliding into the barn, yangyang breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn't see you waiting for him, taking a second to catch his breath

a second is all he gets before you open the barn door, looking around the place and then at him

“oh, you’re already here. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” the apologetic tone you use makes yangyang shake his head

“no, no. believe me when I say I just got here.”

after preparing your horses, you follow yangyang out of the barn and through the backyard of the castle until you’re no longer on the property

you ride through a small forest, over some fields, and then up one big hill before stopping and tying your horses to a nearby tree

laying down a blanket and the food yangyang picked up earlier, you begin eating brunch

and it hits both of you at the same time

you’re alone

in the middle of nowhere

together

yangyang, no matter how awkward the air around you begins to feel, can’t help but think that you really are so, so beautiful

these types of thoughts are new to him

maybe it’s because he knows he has to marry you one day, and his brain is tricking him into making this easier?

yangyang doesn’t have time to think further when he realizes he has been looking at you and you caught him in the act

“oh, sorry,” he panics, “there’s a bug on you.” he swats the imaginary bug off of your shoulder, mentally applauding himself for his quick thinking

that is, until his cuff catches on your sleeve and he’s left leaning over the food, tugging his wrist while trying not to rip your clothing

he begins to laugh nervously, eyes switching from looking at you to your sleeve before your hand covers his own

he stops moving, he stops all laughing, he doesn’t even think he breathes when you carefully pull his cuff off of your sleeve and let go of his hand gently, letting him fall back onto his side of the blanket

“I-I’m sorry, I just, I—” yangyang sighs at his own stuttering

he realizes he doesn’t feel like himself

why is he trying to shape himself into something he’s not when he’s around you

he decides that stops now

“honestly, I'm not sure how to act around you.” yangyang begins, watching how your face turns to look at him, “you’re my fiancé, but I don’t know you at all. I don’t even want to marry you.”

yangyang says the last sentence timidly, but bewilderment replaces the timidness when you sigh in relief

“that’s good because I don’t either.”

“wait, really?” yangyang perks up

“yes, really. I’ve lived my whole life without a fiancé, and one day one just falls into my lap. that’s how deals work with kingdoms, and that’s how I've been thinking about you for the past few days, just as a deal my dad is making with your brother. no offense, really, you seem like an awesome guy, but I'm just not interested in a relationship right now.”

you add on that last bit as a second thought, but yangyang caught the gist

somehow, your words make him relax tenfold and he doesn’t feel like someone else is talking and moving for him

however, there is that one part of him that aches when you call him “just a deal”

yangyang decides to deal with it later, taking things one step at a time for now

“my brother threw this onto my lap, too. it makes me less lonely knowing that I'm not the only one who’s feeling this way.”

“is your brother an uptight micro-manager with a stick up his ass?”

“yes... is yours?”

“yes!”

the more yangyang talked with you, the more he realized how similar you two are

you both loved horseback riding and pranking your older brothers

you both loved painting and eating the left over pastries that the kitchen is about to throw away

yangyang found out that you’ve been studying ever since you were little and that you wanted to be well-versed in as many subjects that you can be

and you didn’t judge yangyang when he honestly told you that he has no idea what he wants for his future

and he appreciates you for that

soon, the sun rises over the top of the sky and starts to sink back down towards the horizon, and sadly your “brunch” ends

“I'm glad we got to know each other better.” yangyang said as he rolled up the blanket you were sitting on

“me too. I'm glad I'm not being forced to marry someone who’s snobbish or boring”

yangyang laughs at the weird compliment, but that pang in his chest returns

forced...

is it bad that yangyang doesn’t feel like he’s being forced anymore?

is it bad that yangyang could.... willingly marry you?

he doesn’t feel trapped or like he would involuntarily be doing something

.... but do you still feel that way?

did the day you spend with yangyang not change your mind about your relationship like it did with his?

yangyang thinks about that the entire ride back to the castle, with secret side eyes to you and a heart that has unexpectedly sunk

the next morning, the two royal families gather for the signing of the contract

kun and your father are sitting at the table in one of the rooms in the castle, the two pieces of paper in front of them as they discuss the last terms and conditions

you’re standing next to yangyang and your mothers are standing only a few feet away

your brother is standing on the other side of yangyang; everyone waits patiently and silently as the kings do business

yangyang’s thoughts are still scrambled from the previous day, and he stares at the floor with his eyebrows screwed together

“are you okay?” you whisper from next to him, causing yangyang to jump slightly

“yeah, just tired.” he lies, and it makes you tilt your head at him

just as it looks like the kings have come to a final decision and they grasp their quill pens to sign the contracts in front of them, the doors to the room burst open, kun’s right hand man running into the room

“your highness, it’s the lee kingdom, they’re here.”

everyone in the room has just enough time to look at each other in perplexity before a group of your guards and the third royal family, the lees, walk into the room

king lee taeyong leads the way, along with his son, lee jeno

at the intrusion, yangyang feels you grab onto the back of his jacket, making him look at you to see uncomfortableness and slight fear in your eyes

“what’s this?” kun stands up from his chair, looking from king lee to his own right hand man to your father

“you are not legally allowed to sign that contract.” king lee states, producing a piece of paper and setting it on the table before your father

“according to this contract, your daughter cannot marry anyone other than my son, jeno.”

your father picks up the contract and reads it over, scoffing afterward

“this contract was created by our great-grandfathers.”

“it still applies to today. my son and your daughter were destined to marry each other before they were even born.”

while the three kings argue about the validity of such an old contract, yangyang feels you tug on the back of his jacket

he turns around to see the look of fear and uneasiness still on your face

“please, do something.” you're plea stuns yangyang, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to process your request

“like what?” he finally gets out

yangyang is just a prince, practically a nobody in this room when there are three kings and two soon-to-be kings here as well

“I can’t marry him.” you step closer to yangyang, you're dress pressing against his legs and your grip on his jacket tightening, “please, I just can’t.”

yangyang only realizes now that your fear is not from the situation currently happening in the room, but rather from the prince that stands by the entrance

lee jeno

tall and muscular and smart

maybe it would be better for you to marry jeno

yangyang feels a burning at the bottom of his stomach at his next thought, but it’s no doubt that it’s true:

you fit as jeno’s wife better than you fit as yangyang’s

you’ll be a queen one day if you marry jeno, but with yangyang you’ll only stay a princess

“why not? he’s better than I ever could be.” your eyebrows furrow for just a moment at yangyang’s words but you shake your head furiously

“he’s been trying to get me to marry him for years. I don’t care about what he has to offer, I don’t want to marry anyone.”

yangyang has to take a moment to feel pity for you

you’re being pressured into marriage from all sides when you don’t even want anything to do with matrimony

yangyang remembers what you told him the day before, that you’re glad you’re being forced to marry someone like him

although the words don’t sit well with him, he’s taking them and running with the idea that you’d rather be with him than with jeno

“we need to break up this contract, it’s no longer relevant with my kingdoms current needs.” yangyang hears your father declare as he tunes back into the conversation

“we can’t just break a several decade old contract because you don’t like it anymore. we’ll have to do it properly; either a trade, a rewrite, or a duel.” king lee states

“I'll duel.” yangyang speaks up without a second thought and jaws drop as everyone turns to look at him, “I’ll duel lee jeno.”

“huh?” jeno glances at his dad to try and figure out how he just got himself into a duel

“yangyang.” kun gives a deadly glare to his younger sibling, a que to sit down and shut up, but as always, yangyang never listens

“If I win, the old contract is destroyed, if jeno wins, it stays.”

no one speaks, only turning to look at jeno for his acceptance of the deal

when he nods, the three kings disperse and kun orders the guards to get the courtyard ready for tomorrow’s duel

if yangyang thought his sleep a few nights before was bad, that night’s sleep was even worse

yangyang and jeno have been in the prince’s club for the same amount of time and have known each other for years

yangyang knows how good jeno is at dueling

the cause of his tossing and turning was not for the fear of getting hurt or nerves of not breaking the contract

it was mostly about how stupid he was to suggest to duel one of the most skilled princes in the area

the next day, yangyang is in his tent, an assistant helping him put on his protective gear when you walk in

yangyang dismisses the assistant and turns back around to put on his gear himself

you take small steps to him, clearing your throat

“thank you for doing this. you have no idea how much I appreciate it.” yangyang is reminded of the core reason for his actions:

you

and because he still gets that warm feeling whenever he’s around you and thinks of you, he pushes his nerves aside and turns to look at you

“will you help me put this on?”

you nod and step closer, helping yangyang secure one of his forearm guards

“you’ll be okay... right?” you ask, your voice is full of jitters and you glance up at him for a second

“uh... well... jeno is pretty good at dueling and I..... have only done it three times before—”

“what?!” you yell, making yangyang jump

he’s never heard your voice at that volume before, and now that he takes a good look at you, you seem less composed than you usually do

“how can you agree to a duel with jeno when you aren’t experienced?”

“I am experienced... I have three fights under my belt.”

“did you win any of them?”

“... I won experience...”

his answer makes you sigh, and yangyang tilts his head

“are you worried?”

“yes.” yangyang’s heart does a backflip in his chest, almost jumping out of his throat in the process, but he quickly reminds himself about what the reason for your worry could be

“I-I mean... you don’t have to. I'll make sure one way or another that you won’t have to marry jeno.”

“that’s not what I'm worrying about right now... I don’t want you to get hurt.” yangyang feels like he’s about to pass out

you’re worried.... about him

he feels a rush of adrenaline fill him from head to toe

he thinks he might be able to do anything for you right at this moment

“I kind of made you do this, I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“hey,” yangyang gently takes your hand in his, stopping you from fiddling with his forearm guard, “whatever happens is not your fault, I made the choice to do this, so it’s my responsibility all the way to the end.”

you and yangyang share a moment of silence; he thinks that was probably the most grown up thing he has ever said

if yangyang thought his heart was done jumping for joy, the feeling is not yet over

you reach into your dress pocket and pull out a handkerchief

it’s plain white, but your initials are stitched into the corner in purple thread

you tuck the piece of fabric between yangyang’s forearm guard and his sleeve, tying it around his wrist so that it doesn’t move

“you have my luck. please, yangyang, be safe.” and with that, you walk out of the tent

he feels like a new man when he walks out to the courtyard, sword in one hand and helmet in the other

he’s almost blinded by the adrenaline and thoughts of you from just a few minutes ago

he feels like he actually has a chance of winning this duel

however, once his helmet is on and the duel starts, yangyang faces reality

no matter how much adrenaline and hope he has, he still sucks at using a sword

his arm seems to weight a lot more than just a few minutes ago and jeno seems to be moving a lot faster than yangyang has ever seen him move before

the sound of metal clashing against metal and grunts leaving yangyang’s mouth fill the area, what seems like everyone from the castle watching on to see who’ll win the fight

yangyang thinks he’s about to lose until jeno retreats, letting yangyang take the offense and move closer

soon, yangyang has the upper hand and, by some miracle, jeno’s sword flies out of his hand, landing on the grass several feet away with jeno surrendering to yangyang

cheers and claps break out at the ending of the duel, but yangyang can’t hear anything, his shock too great to process what just happened

he drops his own sword, instead shaking his hand with jeno’s

jeno accepts the gesture, pulling yangyang closer by his hand and leaning into his ear

“have fun marrying y/n.” he chuckles lowly, walking away from yangyang to join his father

yangyang’s rush from victory and accomplishment die down as he watches jeno’s back retreat

.... did he just throw the duel? so that he won’t have to marry you?

yangyang can’t believe that jeno would do something like that, but the smirk on his face as he sends yangyang one more look tells him that maybe yangyang’s guess could be right

yangyang’s attention pulls away from jeno to you, already making your way down to where yangyang is standing, feet almost running to get to him quicker

you meet him in the middle of the courtyard, slowing down as you reach him

not knowing how to show your worry and affection, you grab onto his forearms and turn him to you, looking him up and down

“you’re okay?” you ask, pleading with your eyes for him to tell the truth

“yeah, I'm fine.” yangyang laughs; you don’t let go of him yet

“good. I don’t want my future husband to be hurt by me before we’re even engaged.” you try to joke, but yangyang doesn’t find it funny

instead, his smile sobers up and he opens his mouth a few times, trying to get the words stuck in his throat out into the thick air between you two

yangyang didn’t want to deal with his feelings right now, but he’s not sure if he’ll get the courage to confront you again

“so, I know you don’t want a relationship and that you feel forced into marrying me right now... but maybe one day that can be different?”

you swallow and keep staring at yangyang in response

“maybe... we can go on some more horseback rides, or maybe we can paint together someday?” yangyang’s confidence starts to fade when you’re not saying anything in return, your face still void of emotion

“I don’t know... I think I can learn to be a good husband.” yangyang finally gets his thought out, gaze falling as he kicks the ground lightly, waiting for your response

“yeah... I think I can learn to love you, yangyang” your response makes yangyang lift his head, the dumb smile on his face matching yours

maybe it’s okay that yangyang only partially won this game

in the end he’s the real winner, whether he truly won the match or not, because he gets to marry you

#yangyang #yangyang fluff #yangyang x reader #wayv fluff #wayv x reader #yangyang angst #wayv angst #yangyang imagines #yangyang scenarios #yangyang fic #yangyang au #yangyang blurb #yangyang timestamp #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv fic #wayv au #wayv blurbs #wayv timestamp

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lifeofkaze · 3 years ago

Text

An Art of Balance #31

Orion Amari x MC

A/N: Azariah Steele belongs to the fabulous @cursebreakerfarrier

Word Count: ~ 2.500

______________________________________

Chapter 31: A Matter of Nerves

The sun was already hanging low in the sky when Lizzie left the castle in search of her friend. She took a moment to enjoy the last warm rays that were painting the landscape around her in hues of orange before the cold of the night would creep up on them. The air was still pleasantly mellow, the heat of the day radiating off the stone walls of the school. If she listened closely, she could hear voices and music drifting over to her from the training grounds where the pre-match party had undoubtedly begun by now.

Ignoring the compelling beat of what sounded suspiciously like The Weird Sisters playing, Lizzie walked past the path leading around the castle to where the party was going down. She nodded to quite a few people walking into the direction she was coming from, all exchanging astounded looks; after all, Lizzie had become somewhat of a staple on every pre-match party, no matter who would be playing the next day.

But now wasn’t the time to enjoy herself in order to take her mind off tomorrow; she had to check whether Skye was alright and there was only one place where she would be hiding from the rest of the world.

Lizzie was glad when the seemingly endless flow of people lessened and the ground became emptier the further she walked away from the castle. It was a peaceful summer evening, one of those Lizzie liked best; she could hear the crickets chirping in the wide meadows stretching between the castle and the Forbidden Forest, which had already begun to sink into the coming darkness. A light breeze shifted Lizzie’s hair, smelling of warm grass and pine trees.

The Quidditch pitch lay very quiet and deserted in the golden light of the sunset. It was a strange thought that it would be flooded with people tomorrow, the sound of the crowd drowning everything else. It made the silence hanging over the stands and its wooden towers that much more poignant, as if the whole stadium was taking a last breath before the impending storm.

Lizzie had never understood why Skye took her refuge here of all places. She found nothing calming about the atmosphere; if anything, the knowledge that she would have to perform in this exact same spot, which was now lying so peacefully in the evening glow, made Lizzie feel even more anxious. But then again, despite all their similarities, Skye and Lizzie just weren’t alike in some ways.

But when she climbed the rickety stairs and emerged on top of the stands, her eyes swept over the scenery again. The sunlight reflecting off the banners hanging from the wooden towers made them look like they were set on fire, a mixture of golden hues and shades of red. The megaphone attached to Murphy’s commentary box was gleaming so brightly Lizzie had to look away after a moment.

Come to think of it, the place had its own kind of beauty after all.

Lizzie continued walking along the stands, trying to shut out the memory of the last time she’d been here outside of a match. She had spotted Skye as soon as she had entered the wooden construction; she was sitting in the first row a little bit ahead of her, her chin resting on her arms that were crossed on the railing in front of her. Lost in her thoughts, she was watching the goalposts quietly, holding a piece of parchment clutched in her fist.

Lizzie recalled the last time she had come to find Skye hiding from Penny up here. So much had happened since then; it felt more like a lifetime than only one school year ago.

Skye tore her gaze away from the glinting hoops for a moment when she heard her approach. Lizzie quietly sat down next to her and Skye smiled melancholically, nodding her head towards the pitch stretching out below them.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Lizzie replied noncommittally, testing the waters for Skye’s mood.

“Believe it or not, this is how I like it best; the pitch, I mean,” Skye continued as if she hadn’t heard Lizzie’s reply. “When you’re flying by the packed stands and the crowd’s going wild for you, that’s a smashing feeling and all, don’t get me wrong; but no one really appreciates the place itself.”

She pushed herself back from the railing and leaned against the wood making up the footrest of the second row behind her. “A Quidditch pitch is something steady, you know? No matter where you’re going, the pitch remains the same; same lawn, same goalposts, same open sky,” she explained. “I’ve seen more Quidditch pitches than I can remember but when you’re sitting up on the stands all on your own, there’s always something peaceful about it.”

“I guess everyone has their personal way of finding a place of peace,” Lizzie agreed. “Orion meditates, I go to the reserve and you come here.”

“It’s the only place I can have a proper think; it gives me exactly what I need. Before a match, there’s already this incredible energy, as if everything is holding its breath in anticipation; and when all is done, it’s calm again but still so full of life, as if you can still hear the cheers on the stands… ” Skye blinked incredulously as she trailed off. “Blimey, I’m starting to sound like Orion, ain’t I?”

Lizzie chuckled. “A little bit, yeah; but I don’t mind.”

“Of course you don’t,” Skye teased, making Lizzie shove her playfully.

“Low blow, Parkin.” A few days ago, Skye’s remark probably would have hurt her and left her feeling down, but now she was able to just let it pass; ever since talking to Orion back in the changing room, somehow, she felt different.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Lizzie now got to the point of why they were actually here.

Skye raised her hand still clutching the parchment, which Lizzie assumed was the letter Penny had spoken about.

“It’s my dad,” Skye sighed, “he’s hurt again.”

Lizzie’s face twisted in sympathy. “Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it something major?”

“No, just a dislocated shoulder, they fixed him right back up. But he’ll be missing the final matches of the season.” She sighed again. “I’ve been knowing that for ages, though.”

Confused, Lizzie tilted her head to the side. “What’s the problem then? What did his letter say?”

“He told me he’s going to be here tomorrow,” Skye told her quietly. “He didn’t tell me earlier because he wanted it to be a surprise.” She opened the folded letter up and quoted, “He ‘wants to watch his little girl hoist up the cup’.”

Skye sighed deeply and gripped the railing in front of them tightly as she shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do this, Lizzie. What if we don’t win? Don’t want to sound like McNully, but our odds really aren’t the best.”

“Come on now, they’re not that bad. We have as good a shot as Gryffindor at winning.”

“Maybe, but a good shot’s not enough,” Skye replied. She was turning the letter around in her hands over and over again, tapping her foot against the wooden balustrade. “Quidditch is the only way I know to really get through to him. He’s expecting only the best from me; I can’t disappoint him.”

Her distress was palpable as she tugged on the hem of her jacket sleeves. “I just want to hear him tell me that he’s proud of me this one time,” she finished quietly.

Lizzie’s face softened at Skye’s confession. “Oh Skye, of course he’s proud of you! How couldn’t he be? You’re his daughter after all, he loves you. He has a weird way of showing it but he does. If he didn’t, he would never be so invested in how our team’s doing; it’s not because of Quidditch, it’s because of you. You could never disappoint him.”

Skye looked at her doubtfully, but also with a touch of hope; she wanted to believe Lizzie was right. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

Not entirely convinced, Skye sighed again. “But what if something goes wrong?”

“Well, with that attitude it certainly will,” Lizzie told her off jokingly. When she saw Skye hanging her head though, she leaned forward to catch her eye.

“Listen up, Parkin, remember what you drilled into me? ‘No heartache, no distractions’. It helped me get a grip again and the same now goes for you.”

“Can’t really call that heartache though,” Skye huffed.

“Maybe not in the traditional way, but it’s definitely distracting you and we don’t need that right now.” Lizzie leaned in and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Apparently, Azariah, the Gryffindor Keeper, has been joking that we won’t get one shot past him tomorrow. Do you think we can let that stand?”

“Absolutely not,” Skye answered immediately, a lopsided grin forming on her face. She was already looking a lot more like her old, fiery self again. “He’ll have no idea what’s coming at him.”

“Exactly,” Lizzie concurred, “And not only will we show Gryffindor how it’s done, but the whole school and your dad are going to see what we’re capable of. We’re going to show your dad something he’s never seen before.”

Skye raised her eyebrows. “What would that be, though? I’m a Parkin after all. Dad’s the one having trained us ever since we were in our nappies. He knows exactly what a Parkin can do on a broomstick.”

“But he won’t be seeing any old Parkin play,” Lizzie corrected her. “What he’ll be seeing is the one and only SkyeParkin; flying ace, Chaser prodigy, nuisance extraordinaire.”

She grinned as Skye started laughing at her over dramatic praises before she continued more seriously, “When you just do what you’re doing best, your dad won’t even know what hit him.”

Wanting to end her pep talk on a lighter note, Lizzie added, “And if that’s still not enough for you, look at it that way: if there ever was an opportunity to show off to Rath, this is it.”

Just like Lizzie had anticipated, Skye guffawed at her last words. “That’s true,” she snickered. “Bet she’s livid they beat us and we’re still playing for the Cup instead of Ravenclaw.”

“Probably,” Lizzie agreed. “I still can’t believe we turned the season around that way,” she contemplated after another moment. “The win against Slytherin was quite the team effort, wasn’t it?”

“That it was; our team’s a smashing bunch.” Skye smiled openly at her. “I know I’m not exactly the most popular one with our mates, but I still couldn’t imagine a life without you lot anymore. Orion has a point somewhere when he calls us his family.”

Lizzie smiled back at her, happy to see her friend’s mood being lifted. “I guess he has.”

Skye’s gaze swept over the stands and down to the pitch, where it lingered on the goalposts once again. With a happy sigh she leaned back and watched the last traces of red fade from the darkening evening sky.

“Remember the first time we’ve been up here, way back in our second year?”

Lizzie chuckled at the memory. “Of course I do; can’t believe how long ago that was. I tried helping you with Charms; I still can’t believe you maimed that poor book like you did. And made me ride a jinxed broomstick,” she couldn’t help but add wryly.

Skye started giggling as well. “And set some Bludgers on you,” she recalled cheerily.

“And set some Bludgers on me.” Lizzie didn’t quite share her amusement, though.

Still laughing, Skye nudged her with her elbow. “But look how far you’ve come since then. I don’t know that many who can hold a candle to you now.”

Blushing at the compliment, Lizzie twisted the ends of her ponytail between her fingers and smirked. “I’ll give you that, it worked. Although your teaching methods definitely weren’t what you’d call conventional.”

Skye only grinned at that. “Maybe, but neither one of us is conventional either.”

“True,” Lizzie laughed lightly. “I’m glad everything went how it did, though.”

“Me too; if anyone had told me back then we’d be mates I’d have called them bonkers, but here we are. You’re certainly one of the best mates I’ve ever had,” Skye continued in a more serious fashion, “cheers for putting up with me all of the time; I know I can be quite the handful.”

Lizzie shook her head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They were silent for a bit, listening to the wind that had picked up rustling through the House banners below them.

It was Skye who spoke up again after some time. “Can’t believe the year’s almost over now. I’m sorry it wasn’t the best one for you, though; this whole situation is sucking big time. I’m not saying that because of the team, but because of you.”

Her eyes flickered over to Lizzie momentarily before she continued. “Maybe you and Orion will find a way after all. If any of my mates deserve to be happy, it’s you guys.”

Lizzie sighed; she had hoped this topic wouldn’t come up. “I think I made my peace with it, in a way. It’s not like I can change the way things are now anyway. It’s my fault everything blew up in my face, so it’s only fair I have to deal with the consequences now.”

She shifted her weight and made a conscious effort not to fiddle with the birthstone pendant she knew was resting under her jersey. “But let’s not talk about this now, alright? All I want to focus onis the match and getting our hands on that God forsaken Cup. After that, we’ll see what happens; it’s one step after the other.”

Lizzie clapped her hands on her knees, the sharp sound echoing across the silent stands and rose to her feet. “Speaking about it, my personal next step is going to the pre-match party, they’re probably waiting for us by now. Are you coming?”

To her surprise, Skye shook her head. “No, go ahead without me, maybe I’ll catch you later. I want to stay here for a bit now.”

Once again, her green eyes followed the perimeter of the stands facing them. Darkness had begun to settle over the pitch, the commentary box was barely discernible anymore.

“Need to set my mind for tomorrow properly. You’re right, Jameson, it’s full focus on winning now, everything else has to wait until after that bloody Cup is ours; it’s one step after the other.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #quidditch #orion amari #skye parkin #lizzie jameson #aob #art of balance #the quidditch squad #not much longer to go #redoing this cause tumblr fucked the first attempt up #im mad

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