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writertitan · 4 years ago

Text

Grandfather Clock (III)

pairing: levi x f!reader

word count: 7068 (oops)

themes: adult f!reader, arranged marriage, multi-part fic, levi is a stubborn asshole at first, no love at first sight here folks

a/n: the final part!! enjoy!!!

Read Part 1 Here

Read Part 2 Here

On the 20th day of Levi’s engagement to you, he found himself tense, frowning, and sitting across a less than pleased Erwin, right in the commander’s office.

Erwin sat at his desk, deep discontent written all over his face, with his arms folded tightly across his broad chest.

Levi knew the scolding was coming and cursed himself in his head for being so careless. He hadn’t really meant too much by it. Mike had just been asking him how things were going as they walked down the hall together and the words had just tumbled out. Levi didn’t like talking about his personal life in general, mostly because he had hardly had one prior to getting engaged, but now he was extra wary.

“Not much to tell. Just thankful she agreed not to have an actual wedding and to prolong it as long as possible.”

That was all he’d said and he’d said it with a tone of finality that Mike understood well. It was the tone that warned not to push it any farther.

It was just Levi’s luck that Erwin had rounded the corner as the words left him. The commander had bristled as he processed what Levi had said and then blurted out that he needed to see the shorter man immediately, in his office.

Levi had never seen Mike hurry off so quickly before.

And now here he was, tense and waiting for Erwin to lash out at him.

The words came moments later, but Levi didn’t get yelled at, which made him feel worse. Erwin was quiet, stern, and very open with his disappointment.

“Is it true? You really asked that of her?”

“Yes,” Levi sighed, running a hand over his tired face. “I did.”

“You didn’t even consult me about it. Levi, I hope you know I’m trying to grant you as much freedom as I can in this situation, but this was out of line. I’m sorry, but you don’t have that kind of say.”

Erwin’s words made Levi wince a little, but he tried to keep a stoic face. He could see that the commander was waiting for him to say something, but Levi didn’t quite know what to say.

He thought of you for a moment, and thought about how confused he’d been lately, and then looked at Erwin with a hint of a frown.

“You’ve hardly given us any freedom,” he blurted out, and then cursed himself yet again. He’d used the word “us” instead of “me” and he knew that Erwin would catch wind of that.

He did, and he even seemed to soften up a bit, raising a brow curiously.

And then Erwin used you as ammunition.

“You’ve stripped away any semblance of choice left for her by making her agree to your terms. She has even less freedom than you. Is that what you wanted?” Erwin asked, but the question was more rhetorical than anything.

Levi’s frown grew deeper. His mind went back to you, how broken you’d looked when he’d said he didn’t want a wedding day, and how he wanted to wait as long as possible to actually be married. And then his mind took him to that day you were feeling unwell, and how that same broken expression appeared when he’d gotten upset with you.

His chest grew heavy when he realized he had helped in breaking you.

And even worse, he hadn’t gone back to visit you after that day, when you had fainted. It had spurred too many mixed emotions in him and he had wanted the space to clear his head. And you had confirmed you were still unwell in your most recent letter to him from yesterday.

But maybe you were lying. Maybe Levi had broken you so much that you wanted to start keeping your distance from him.

That’s what he wanted, right?

Is that what you wanted?

Erwin’s unanswered question echoed in his mind.

If that was what he’d wanted, why did he feel this way, so horrible, after being called out by Erwin?

“I just don’t know what to do,” Levi finally said, unable to meet Erwin’s gaze.

Erwin hummed and sat back in his chair, arms now unfolded as he looked at Levi. The conversation had gone way beyond Levi’s little mistake. As much as he wanted to help his friend, there was a reason Erwin had been wandering the halls. He had, in fact, been searching for Levi. And he had, in fact, been wanting to discuss the topic of you. It had been mere coincidence that Erwin had caught Levi’s confession.

“Talk to her,” Erwin said, eyes on Levi, who was still looking anywhere but at him. “And I’d suggest going today. There was a reason I’ve been looking for you.”

At that, Levi flickered his eyes to Erwin, a hint of curiosity in them. And, dare Erwin say, even a little bit of worry hid behind the silver.

“Well, spit it out,” Levi said, already making to stand up. “What happened? Is something wrong?”

Erwin also stood up, slowly and deliberately, and didn’t know how to answer that.

“There’s been some...civil unrest recently. Some of the working class citizens have been getting riled up because of some recent unfortunate events with the upper class,” Erwin explained, watching carefully for Levi’s reaction. “Some of my intel has told me there’s talk of a few riots being planned.”

“What kind of ‘unfortunate events’ are you talking about?” Levi pressed, arms at his side with hands clenched into fists. This didn’t sound good.

“Seems like your fiancee’s father has been in some bad business deals that affected a lot of his workforce. And he’s got quite the workforce, if you remember,” Erwin murmured, looking a little thoughtful as he tried to gage Levi’s reaction. “I was looking for you to tell you that I’d like for you to go and check on things. I’m not sure how extreme the situation is.”

Levi was already halfway out of the office and didn’t bother to answer. He was, without a doubt, upset.

Upset that Erwin didn’t let him know about this immediately.

Upset that it would take a while to get to you.

And, curiously, he was upset that he was upset. What the hell was going on with him?

In your parlor room, you were curled up on the sofa and reading your favorite book. It took all your willpower to try not to think about how, just a few days ago, Levi had touched those very same pages.

He’d kept his distance since then, though you had certainly had some part in that by sending him a note to say you were still sick. It wasn’t true at all and you’d felt almost back to normal the next day, but you couldn’t really face Levi yet. Despite forgiving him and allowing yourself to have a little bit of hope that things would turn out okay for the two of you, it was obvious that Levi was still on the fence with you, and had a very specific opinion about who you were despite not getting to know you.

You were using this time away from him to think of ways to show him that you weren’t that way at all, and that his impression of you was, truthfully, completely off the mark.

As the grandfather clock sounded off at noon, it brought you back to reality. You set your book down, not that you’d actually been reading much of it, and sighed when your stomach grumbled. Definitely lunchtime.

You stood up and stretched, about to walk to the kitchen and bother Chef Erlo when you realized something seemed...off.

The clock struck noon for a final time and you realized that that was the only sound you could really hear from all over the house. Silence engulfed you when the grandfather clock stopped, and you peered out into the hallway, baffled when you saw absolutely nobody in sight.

Feeling like you couldn’t break the silence, you stayed quiet as a mouse as you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to hear the usual bustle of noise there for lunch. Maybe that’s where everyone was. It was lunchtime, after all. Had you forgotten it was somebody’s birthday? Sometimes you’d sneak the staff into the servant’s quarters for a bit of a break and have a little birthday celebration during lunch, but you were sure nobody’s big day was today.

But you didn’t make it to the kitchen. As you got closer to the foyer, you could hear the commotion outside, interrupting the eerie silence in your home. Instead of going to check on things, curiosity got the best of you and you ended up peering out the window to see what was going on. A little gasp left your lips when you saw what was outside.

Hoards of people were at the gates of your home, screaming and shouting profanities as they tried to make their way inside. Your heart sped up at the sight, absolutely terrified at the pure hatred they all wore on their faces. You couldn’t really make out what they were all saying, but you heard the profanities, and you heard your father’s name enough times to know that this was personal.

The guards situated outside at the gate were pushing back as much as they could, and you even see that some of the Garrison soldiers had come to help out, but the crowd seemed to be growing bigger and bigger by the second. At any moment, it would bubble over and spill past the gates of your home.

Right to you.

Once again, after a lifetime of avoiding your father and his business to try and escape it, you were being dragged right into the middle of it instead.

You had to run. The anger outside was something that was almost tangible; you could feel it weighing heavily in the air even from where you stood inside your home. No doubt that someone would try to hurt you just in the belief that it would hurt your father to know they’d gotten to you.

For a brief moment, Levi flashed through your mind, and you sincerely regretted lying to him about still feeling unwell when his face popped to the front of your head. Maybe he would have helped you. Maybe not. The anger you could feel from the crowd outside was unfortunately similar to the anger Levi had bestowed upon you just a few days ago.

As you backed away from the window, you thought of all the different places you could go to hide. So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t register the footsteps sneaking up behind you and gasped when a hand clamped against your mouth to keep you quiet.

Before you could try and scream, a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Shh, it’s only me. Let’s go.”

You whirled around, tears of relief springing to your eyes as you hugged Greta tightly.

“Greta,” you breathed out shakily, pulling away to look at her with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s not talk here, come on,” she whispered, tugging you towards the servant’s quarters, where you knew the wine cellar was situated. As soon as the door was closed and locked behind the two of you, Greta practically dragged you down the stairs. It was cooler down there and you shivered involuntarily.

There was dim candlelight at the end of the steps that lit up a narrow hallway, one that led towards a heavy wooden door. Chef Erlo was there holding a candelabra with one hand, a silver key in the other.

Your tears of relief spilled over at the sight of him.

“Erlo,” you whimpered, moving to hug him as well. He was just as quick about it as Greta was, gently stepping away from you with a small and sympathetic smile.

“We’ll get you out of here safely, miss,” he promised you.

A pang of fear hit you and you looked between Erlo and Greta, hand at your chest as you thought of the worst.

“And everyone else? Is everyone okay?” you asked them.

From above, you heard glass shattering and heavy thumps. Your heart pounded so hard against your chest that you worried your ribs would crack from the force. The fear you felt in that moment was unparalleled, unmatched by any other situation in your life. You’d never been this scared in your entire life.

“Everyone is safe. Except for you,” Greta said, and she nodded for Erlo to open the door. He unlocked it and hurried you both inside, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw Erlo wasn’t following.

“I’m going to lock the door behind me and slip the key under the crack. That should buy you some time,” he said to Greta, avoiding your gaze.

“What are you talking about? You’re coming with us, it’s not safe here! Something’s happening outside, people are angry and I don’t know why,” you rambled, tearing up again. Greta reached over to squeeze your hand, but everything about it was rushed, too hurried to really be a comfort to you.

Erlo flashed you another small smile, and then gave you a wink, his crow’s feet prominent as he finally flashed his goofy smile.

“I’ll be fine, miss. Don’t worry about me. It’s not me they’re after,” he assured you, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

Chef Erlo was like the father you’d never had. It was impossible to allow him to do this, but Greta held you back as he shut the door and locked it once again, with the key slipping underneath moments later.

Greta let go of you to swipe it off the ground, and then began to push you forward, nearly in the dark save for cracks of light at the door opposite the room.

The faint smell of wine permeated the air and you found yourself wishing for a glass to calm your nerves. Greta led you to the door in just a few moments flat, using the same key to unlock it and hurry through with you in tow.

It was the bulkhead entrance to the wine cellar, where the merchants would come deliver or take some wine. Part of your father’s business. It was where a lot of things were delivered. On the few steps there beneath the wooden doors, there was a maid’s dress and some worn shoes. One look at Greta told you that the new outfit was for you, so you wasted no time in nearly tearing off your dress and kicking off your shoes to put on the much simpler garments and better blend in outside without striking too much attention to yourself. Your current outfit would have been a dead giveaway to your status.

Greta lifted one of the doors up just enough to peer out cautiously as you changed, making sure it was safe to leave. Once she was sure it was, she nodded to you and lifted the door up quietly, keeping it lifted for you to hop up the short steps and out into the spring afternoon.

It was cloudy outside, threatening to rain. As if on cue, a crack of thunder sounded and you felt it was remarkably similar to a cliche in your favorite novel; it always rained whenever your favorite character was feeling upset.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Greta gripped you by the elbow and tugged you away from the house in a pace that was rushed but not too much that it looked suspicious. Now that you were wearing new clothes, you looked like everyone else outside. There was no real need to rush and risk getting caught.

Nobody paid the two of you any mind. The real focus was on your house that was currently getting ransacked.

The sight made your heart sink to your stomach, but your tears had already dried.

It was true that these people were destroying the only home you’d ever known. It was true that in that moment, you were sure you’d never go back to it. But you just couldn’t find it in you to cry about this. Your tears were reserved for your staff and worrying about their wellbeing.

Whatever your father had done, it probably deserved this level of outrage.

Although you were filled to the brim with fear and adrenaline, above all, you felt a peculiar sense of freedom as more and more people pushed their way past the gates of your home to run inside.

Greta gave you a moment to watch the scene before steering you away with promises to explain everything as soon as she got you to safety.

The only time tears actually did threaten your eyes again was when Captain Levi’s face pushed its way into your mind once more.

Maybe you would never see him again. And maybe he’d like that.

Levi was all too familiar with feeling dread settle in his stomach and harden like a rock. He’d experienced it all his life, countless times as he watched comrades die, often such a big part of his nightmares and the reason for his insomnia.

He didn’t expect to feel that rock in his stomach as he approached your home. Rather, what was left of it.

But he felt it settle in his stomach, a dread so heavy that he almost had to hunch over, and he looked on in horror as people continued to run in and out of your home. Many people were running out with valuables in their arms. Others were running inside just to destroy everything in sight.

He was far too late, by the look of things.

His eyes darted around, a futile attempt to locate you, but of course he didn’t see you anywhere.

Soldiers and guards were doing what they could, and Levi could see reinforcements marching in, but it was too late.

It was too late.

Levi hopped off his horse and pushed past people and soldiers alike as he ran into your home, taking in the sight of broken glass and ruined furniture and banged up walls.

It was disgusting.

He went to your room first and only found it ravaged and empty with no signs of life.

Levi knew he was being crazy. Of course he wasn’t going to just find you there. In fact, the thought of seeing you in the middle of all this would have actually been worse. But not knowing where you were had his stomach in knots.

As a last resort, he checked the parlor room, where you’d shared an afternoon that had left Levi questioning himself and questioning you. Mostly himself.

He got there as the grandfather clock chimed at the top of the hour. It was just as ravaged as your room, but curiously enough, he noticed your favorite novel on the ground by where the side table used to be.

He picked it up and clutched it tightly, and then made a promise.

He would find you and he would get your book back to you. It was the only possession you had left in the world, he realized, looking around.

He’d find you.

He wouldn’t rest until he’d found you.

A cup of tea warmed your hands as silence filled the room of Greta’s mother’s kitchen.

The two women stared at you with so much sympathy, and so much worry, that it made you feel loved and yet also a little small at the same time.

Greta had just finished explaining everything to you.

Your father had been atrocious, and had taken advantage of his employees. He was in protective custody because he’d anticipated this riot to happen. Nobody knew where your mother was. It was a miracle that Greta and Erlo had managed to help you and everyone else out before you’d gotten hurt. Or killed.

And now you didn’t know what would happen next.

Your spirits, already low, dimmed even more at the thought of Chef Erlo. You desperately hoped he was okay, and hopefully he was. After all, he’d been correct: nobody was trying to hurt him. Only you and your family.

“Are you sure everybody made it out safely?” you whispered to Greta, who immediately nodded.

“Everyone’s been aware of some of the...tensions around town,” she explained. “We all had an exit plan in the works, just didn’t realize we’d have to implement it so soon.”

You flashed a brief and sad smile, nodding once as you took a sip of your tea.

“Thank you for getting everyone out safely first. It means the world to me.”

In your mind, you were just as responsible for your father’s sins as he was. To think you didn’t even have a clue of what was going on. It was embarrassing.

As if reading your mind, Greta’s mother, May, reached forward to squeeze your arm reassuringly.

“It’s not your fault, darling,” she murmured. “It wasn’t your place to know.”

You sighed softly and kept your eyes on your tea, frowning to yourself. It was true that you had basically been forced to be cooped up in the house, and now you were thinking there was a clear reason behind it now. You hardly had much say in your day to day schedule, especially after getting engaged to Captain Levi. Still, it didn’t feel good to be so in the dark.

And the thought of Captain Levi sent your heart aflutter. Did he know? Had he been aware of this the whole time? Was this part of the reason for your arrangement?

Slowly, you picked up your gaze from your tea to settle on Greta, biting the inside of your cheek before asking the question you were dreading to ask.

“What happens now?”

She didn’t look too sure either as she pondered your question, finally settling for shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know, miss,” she answered honestly. “I hate to say it, but it depends on your father. He and your mother will start looking for you once they realize you’re missing.”

The thought made you nauseous. Despite such a horrible outcome of your day, that peculiar feeling of freedom had been what kept you going. There was some sort of thrill attached to it.

You realized it was achingly similar to the hope you felt for your arrangement for Levi. The chance of things looking up, turning around.

All this hope and nothing to show for it.

Now you were hopeless.

News had gotten to Erwin quickly. Levi saw the commander ride in with other squad leaders as he helped beat down and arrest some of the rowdier citizens at your home. He hated to be there and wanted to go off and find you more than anything, but someone there had to have seen you, or seen what happened to you.

So far, nobody seemed to remember seeing you. In fact, some people had sworn to him that the house had been empty of people the entire time. Not a soul in the home at all.

When Erwin stepped past the gates, Levi had never wanted to pummel him so badly. Instead, he shoved a badly beaten merchant towards his commander with a growl, eyes nearly feral as he found the calm blue ones that he hated more than anything at the moment.

“You said there was civil unrest. You didn’t say there was an entire fucking mob,” he snapped.

Erwin remained calm, casually stepping over the merchant to get closer to Levi.

“Seems I was deceived,” he admitted, looking around. “Her father kept me in the dark. I had no idea about any of this. But I suppose you’ll be pleased to hear that I’m calling off the deal. We can’t tarnish the Scouts’ reputation even more by doing business with this family.”

Levi’s body went cold at the news.

Just a couple of weeks ago, he would have felt nothing but pure relief. Now, he felt nothing but pure dread.

“What about…?”

Levi couldn’t even say your name. It caught at the back of his throat and he struggled to breathe. He tried his best to remain as stoic as always, but Erwin knew him so well, and could see the concern at the edges of Levi’s gaze.

“There’s not much protection we can offer her, being her father’s daughter. She’s under his control,” Erwin reminded him. “Do you know where she is? I heard she’s declared missing.”

Levi nodded once to confirm, his worry amplifying at Erwin’s words.

He couldn’t protect you. Not while you were still affiliated with your father.

“People are saying that nobody was in the house,” Levi said, giving the commander a rundown of events. “I did a quick search, didn’t find any of the staff. No one was around.”

Erwin hummed a little, hands behind his back as he took in the sight of the damaged house in front of him.

“No surprise there. Our man of the hour is already in protective custody, having predicted this well before anyone else, and his wife was visiting with a friend, and now they’re all in protective custody as well. It’s just your ex-fiancee that we’re having trouble locating. Perhaps she’s with her staff.”

How stupid of him. Levi hadn’t really thought of that possibility yet. He’d been so focused on finding you, assuming the worst, that he hadn't taken the time to really think it through enough to realize that you were missing along with the staff.

Erwin was already five steps ahead of them.

“Some of the scouts are off to find the staff members that don’t live here in-house. One of them is bound to know where she is.”

Levi couldn’t help the small sigh of relief that left him, but he still felt useless if he wasn’t doing more to help. Without another word to Erwin, he marched off to do another quick search around the entire perimeter.

Some medics had come onto the scene as well and he was surprised to see a couple of them towards the back of the house, dragging someone out of the cellar. Levi had admittedly not really looked down there, knowing all there was, was food storage and wine cellar that someone had told him was all cleared out by now.

A familiar old man was getting dragged out and treated. He was badly beaten, bruised from head to toe, and his breathing was raspy and uneven.

Levi knew him to be a staff member and his heart skipped a beat.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was kneeling beside the old man, shaking him to get his attention despite the angry protests of a medic.

The old man opened his eyes and grimaced, but his face grew soft at the sight of Levi.

“Captain Levi,” he greeted him in a hoarse voice. “You’re a little late, don’t you think?”

“Where is she?” Levi asked, voice soft. “Do you know?”

“I know,” the man confirmed, nodding slowly as his eyes closed. “Greta...Greta took her. She’s...with Greta’s mother. But don’t know where...she lives.”

Greta. Levi knew that name. It was the name of one of the maids. You looked to be friends with her.

“Thank you,” he said, very sincere, before standing back up. More determined than ever, he made a beeline for his horse, a plan of action already formulating in his mind. He could make do with the information given to him. It was all he needed.

He was going to find you.

The sun hung low in the sky as May and Greta made up Greta’s old bed for you.

You had insisted on sleeping anywhere else, even the floor, but Greta had already set her mind on sharing a bed with her mother.

“I shared a bed with one of the other maids all the time, whenever we felt like it,” she told you. “I actually like it. It’s nice having another person there with you.”

You still felt a little guilty but stayed silent, and opted instead to watch the sun lower through the window of Greta’s childhood bedroom after being shooed off.

Greta and her mother chattered amongst themselves and you didn’t have the heart to join in just yet. You felt so drained after the day’s events that you couldn’t muster up the energy they had.

What kept you so anxious was also the thought of having to stay under your father’s thumb.

It was maddening to know that after everything, he still had your life in his hands. To be a highborn lady was to be in shackles.

A plan was starting to formulate in your mind, one where you could fake your death and run away and find work as a maid or maybe even a governess. Greta could help and confirm that you’d been taken, never to be seen again. You could grab your clothes that you’d discarded, if they were still around, and maybe douse them in animal blood or something, to really sell it.

But your plan was cut short with a pounding at the front door downstairs. The knocking was so intense that all three of you froze and looked between each other, fear prickling your spines.

When the door clearly sounded like it was trying to be opened, May sprang into action and ran downstairs, which kickstarted your adrenaline. You ran after her, afraid for her possibly getting hurt, reaching out for her to try and stop her from going any farther.

“May, no!” you hissed, eyes on the front door that was now in view. Someone was slamming into it, the lock jiggling unsteadily, until it finally gave in.

You were paralyzed in fear as the door flew open, but fear gave way to shock at the sight of Captain Levi at the entrance, looking frazzled. You would have never predicted you’d ever see him as anything other than composed or angry.

As soon as your eyes locked, you ran to him.

“Captain Levi!”

He stopped you before you could throw your arms around him and, at first, you felt embarrassed by it, taking it as a rejection.

It wasn’t until he started examining you, hands lifting and twisting your arms and turning your face this way and that, that you felt your heart warm up.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. He was cupping your face, holding your jaw familiar as his eyes scanned your face for any signs of injury, and that frazzled look he held only softened when his eyes finally met yours.

You shook your head slowly, keeping his gaze, hands shyly reaching up to cover his over your jaw.

“I’m not hurt,” you whispered. “Just scared.”

Levi frowned and reluctantly let go of your face, but his hands didn’t travel far. He rested them on your shoulders while your hands gently gripped his forearms, the two of you in your own little bubble.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he promised you, sounding so earnest. “Nobody can hurt you while I’m here.”

Your bottom lip quivered, emotional at the thought of him willingly protecting you, but also emotional at the more sinister situation at hand.

“My father can,” you told him, squeezing his forearms as the words left your mouth. “Greta says he’ll be looking for me soon. I can’t escape him.”

Levi’s eyes hardened at that, grip also tightening on your shoulders, before he groaned and stepped away from you to run a hand over his face.

“Erwin said the same thing to me,” he admitted, pacing back and forth. He briefly looked towards Greta and her mother, then to the now broken front door, and blankly stared at them before muttering, “I’ll fix that.”

He turned back to you, arms crossed, as he took on a look of deep concentration. It was only there for a few moments before he snapped out of it, holding your gaze as he seemed to come to a conclusion.

“You can’t be under your father’s control once you’re married,” he pointed out.

At first, you didn’t understand. You raised a brow, a little peeved he was bringing it up, and nodded once.

“I suppose so…,” you agreed, a hint of a frown on your face. “But I’m assuming we won’t be getting married after this, so I’m kind of shit out of luck.” It was the first time you’d really sworn like that in front of Levi. In front of anyone. It was nice.

Levi tensed up a little and broke his eye contact with you to look away, and you could have sworn he looked a little flustered. There was a hint of pink at the tips of his ears, which shocked you.

“What?” you pressed, also feeling a bit of heat creep into your face.

This wasn’t happening. No way this was happening.

Levi hadn’t wanted to marry you even when it was basically required of him.

Your hopeless romantic little heart was just playing tricks on you. He wasn’t possibly going to suggest…

“I gave my word and I don’t intend on going back on it,” he said, still not looking at you, ears still pink. “Got any better ideas?”

“Captain Levi…,” you began, but then trailed off, not knowing what to say, until finally you managed out, “You don’t have to do this.”

He scoffed a little, eyes finally flickering back to you. Tentatively, he stepped forward until he was right in front of you again. You stayed perfectly still as he lifted a hand to place it on top of your head, giving you a small pat before ruffling up your hair.

“I have something for you,” he said suddenly, taking his hand away to reach into the pocket of his coat.

And then your favorite novel was in your hands, a little more crumpled up than usual but basically intact.

Tears sprang to your eyes and you hugged the book to your chest gratefully, looking to Levi with nothing but adoration.

At that moment, it was all you owned in the world. You didn’t even own the clothes on your back.

“That was really nice,” you choked out, gazing down at the book again with a small smile.

Levi stepped forward again, closing the distance between you as he rested a hand on your shoulder again.

“Let me protect you,” he said, tone filled with an air of finality that you couldn’t argue with. “I know I don’t have to.”

He didn’t have to say the actual words; you understood what he meant.

I want to.

Marriage was all about compromise.

In the end, Levi didn’t get to prolong his nuptials, since marrying you had to be done quickly. However, it also had to be done in secret. So, at the very least, you figured he at least got half of his wishes respected.

The moment the ink was dry on the certificate, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You shed your maiden name to gain a new surname, fully protected from your father now and fully backed by the Survey Corps. It was your 30th day of knowing Levi. Your 1st day of being married.

You took in a deep breath as Erwin took the document from you to sign as a witness, and you turned to Levi with a small and timid smile, which he actually tried to return. It was brief, but it was appreciated. And when he lifted his hand to pat your head affectionately, you melted a little.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a big wedding like you wanted,” he murmured, eyes staring at you with a hint of remorse. “I should have never made you agree to that before.”

A half-smile tugged at one corner of your mouth and you shook your head, nudging your shoulder to his playfully.

“I never really wanted to have a big wedding,” you admitted to him. “I just wanted to have a special day for myself. And for my husband, of course. Didn’t have to be a big thing. It just needed to be special.”

Levi seemed to lighten up at that, giving another brief smile before murmuring, “That’s a relief.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, but he didn’t respond, choosing instead to stand up and offer a hand to help you on your feet as well.

You smoothed down the cream dress Greta had so kindly let you borrow and followed Levi out the door, head held a little higher now that you were an official Ackerman and nothing else. Instead of going to Commander Erwin’s office to go over a few next steps like originally planned, you found yourself following Levi outside.

“Where are we going?” you asked, puzzled, but Levi scoffed a little and turned to look at you from over his shoulder.

“If you could just be a little patient, I promise you’ll find out soon enough,” he said.

It was a beautiful day, you had to admit. The spring temperature was perfect and you basked in the sunlight, feeling freer than you’d ever felt before.

You stepped onto the grass in the courtyard, eyes towards the sky, and it wasn’t until you heard several people clear their throat that you tilted your head down to take a look.

Your heart nearly stopped as you saw Erlo, Greta, May, and Charlie, and some of Levi’s friends, sitting on the grass, a spread of what looked like a marvelous lunch in front of them.

Shouts of congratulations were passed around and you lit up at the sight, heart feeling full as you stumbled over while dragging Levi along.

You turned to him, eyes bright and excited, still not quite understanding.

“What is this?” you asked, looking between your bubble of friends and your brand new spouse.

Levi looked a little uncomfortable, but in that cute way, and Greta beat him to the punch with the answer.

“It’s your wedding day, so we’re celebrating, of course!” she laughed, then nodded towards Levi with a cunning grin. “It was your husband’s idea.”

Levi’s entire face flushed at the term but he also looked murderous at being found out.

You grinned at him, feeling warmed at his gesture, and you made a mental note to pull him aside later for a real thank you.

At that moment, you made do by sneaking a kiss to his cheek, fully appreciating the way he got flustered.

Erwin had made up a new room for you at base and, after a full day’s worth of celebrating your wedding day, you were ready to fall into bed.

The room was right next to Levi’s, which you appreciated. It seemed funny, almost, since of course spouses typically shared a room, but under these circumstances, that wasn’t very likely.

You cared for Levi and you could see that he at least cared for you in some ways, but those feelings would need to be nurtured with time.

The two of you were in front of your bedroom door, with you yawning up a storm, and Levi grumbling about getting you to bed.

You burst into your room and made a beeline for your bed, not bothering to really look around at your new room or even change out of your clothes. As soon as you were on the bed, you felt your drowsiness start to overtake you.

Before you passed out, you peeked over at Levi, who was getting situated at a desk.

“Aren’t you gonna sleep?” you asked, yawning again, and Levi turned to look at you briefly.

“Not for a while,” he answered finally.

You frowned at that but didn’t argue with him, your heart bubbling over with so many questions and feelings that you just couldn’t hold in anymore.

“Do you still dislike me?” you blurted out, face heating up at your lack of filter.

Levi raised a brow, pointedly looking towards the new ring on your finger. Then, his gaze softened, and he leaned back in the chair he sat in.

“No,” he answered. “And I was wrong for judging you before. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance sooner.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, but kept your eyes on Levi, no matter how hard it was.

“Do you think you’ll fall in love with me one day, now that we’re married?”

You couldn't stop that question from tumbling out either, but you were too curious to feel embarrassed.

Levi’s ears flushed pink, a cute new trait you were catching onto. He looked away from you briefly, clearly trying to find the right words, and he took so long to respond that you felt your heart start to sink.

But then he stood from his seat and moved to kneel beside the bed, a hand reaching up to smooth some hair out of your face.

“Let me focus on protecting you first,” he said.

His eyes were the softest they’d ever been. They gave you another answer.

“I’m going to love you,” you promised him. You still couldn’t admit that you were actively falling in love. Not to him, not right now. But another time.

“I don’t deserve that, after how I acted,” he whispered.

“I’ll always forgive you,” you whispered back. “And I’m going to love you.”

Levi moved his hand from your head to tuck you into the sheets a little better, avoiding your gaze. Neither one of you said anything for a minute, a comfortable silence falling between you like that afternoon in the parlor room.

As you began to drift off, Levi’s soft voice filled your ears with one final promise. One that was meant more for him than for you.

“I’ll figure out how to love.”

You were too tired to notice how the sheets smelled like Levi. You were too tired to realize that the room was clearly already lived in and had typical possessions of a squad captain, from ODM gear to a desk clearly stacked up with documents.

You’d been too tired to remember that your bedroom door was the right one and not the left one. You’d been too tired to notice that you’d opened the left door.

Levi was too besotted by you to correct your mistake.

Somewhere, a grandfather clock chimed as midnight struck.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi fic #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi one shot #levi #aot fanfiction #aot oneshots #aot #snk fanfiction #snk

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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umm hi! i just binge read your writings and im super in love with it 🥺 if you don’t mind, can i request a hc with osamu, sakusa, and tsukki where they have a nonchalant, very chill, s/o who is unbelievably clumsy and funny once you get past their poker face and intimidating aura? like for some reason people are wary of them but they’re just vibing so they only have a tight grp of friends and how a confession would go?? hehe thank u!! <3

thank you so much omg <333 and i hope you enjoy!! i’m on some osamu and sakusa brainrot rn so this was nice hehe

miya osamu

i honestly think that’s very similar to osamu himself!

you can see that he’s relatively quiet and chill, but in the sense that he’s really intimidating because he has a very unbothered, expressionless face most of the time, but considering who his twin is, i don’t doubt that at his core he’s very childish when he wants to be. like i can see him as someone that says a lot of dad jokes and has really stupid humor he just snorts to himself all the time he just doesn’t show it outwardly

i love the idea of osamu knowing you just barely, having heard about you, but not in detail. and he sees you around with the same people, or else you’re just hanging by yourself. he admires you, in a way.

until one day you cross paths, and you literally trip over air and into his arms, and it’s honestly something straight out of a stupid romantic drama how you take him down with you

you start profusely apologizing and it’s honestly a little amusing to him how you’re so flustered. he thinks it’s kind of cute

so, as one does, he extends a hand for you to shake, and introduces himself

he doesn’t cross paths with you as often as he grows to realize he wants to, but he starts noticing you a lot more. noticing how you’re the loudest in your group, how you consistently seem to always trip, how a frown on your face isn’t as common when he really focuses

he learns, through observing you, that there is so much more to you than what seems

i don’t see osamu as someone that deliberately goes out of his way to get his crush to notice him. i think he’d be more of a go with the flow type of person, where he just lets it happen

as in, he will only confess if the opportunity presents itself, but he won’t go out searching for that opportunity

and what if that happens when you trip around him again and end up falling on top of him, the same way you’d first met, and as you’re about to lift yourself up, osamu goes, “go out with me?” before he could even think and he sees and feels you freeze and your eyes widening in shock

and he’s too far in to get nervous now, right?

he loves you as his s/o, how you’re both so similar but different in your own ways. and he especially loves the intimidation aspect, just,,, really amused him hehe

sakusa kiyoomi

i think sakusa would know you a little more, and that’s because you can both often be found in the same place, especially in school

he sees you spending time with a close knit group of people, but otherwise, you’re in the library with him, or in a secluded part of the school, and you’re not talking, but just sitting in comfortable silence. he’ll offer you hand sanitizer, and you’ll let him borrow your notes if you need them

it’s just serene you know?

with how quiet you are around him, i think he’d assume, just like everybody else, just how intimidating you are. he wouldn’t find you intimidating himself, but he’ll see where people are coming from. at least, for a short while. but he doesn’t mind it. if anything, he respects how you’ve managed to have people learn of your boundaries and be mindful of crossing them

he’d most likely develop a liking towards you because of those small interactions you have with him every other day. he doesn’t think much of it, since sakusa doesn’t really interact with other people. but he can tell that, you know, he’s grown from being weirded out by your presence to not minding it to actually, sort of, kind of looking forward to it

i don’t think sakusa would even consider confessing. i think he’d see having a crush as just another every day thing, something that’ll pass over time and shouldn’t really require much of his attention. until, it starts to get bad, and he realizes just how deep he is. i’m talking he can’t look you in the eye because it makes him feel nauseous type of crush

so he’d confess, to just get it out of the way, maybe even to push you away

when you sit by him in the library, he turns to you, takes in a deep breath and goes, “i think i like you.” and then he just turns to his work like he didn’t just send you into cardiac arrest

when it’s awkwardly silent for a little too long, and sakusa confirms to himself that you don’t feel the same and this crush really was a waste of time, he prepares himself to leave. until you say, really loudly, too loud that the librarian glares and hushes the two of you, “you what?”

he’s so,,, shocked at the sudden shift in your personality he’s like where’d the scary you go tf

but, it really doesn’t throw him off, not like he imagined it would. he really loves that you’re not as you appear, but that there’s depth to you, and that he doesn’t know you as much as he thinks he does, and that there’s more to learn about you.

he just. thinks you’re adorable :) in every way :)

tsukishima kei

honestly? tsukki probably has liked you for the longest time but he just expressed it as hate, cause that’s the way i’d see tsukki expressing his love towards someone. or maybe he liked you so much he hated you, that could be probable too, tbh

he was really into the fact that you were so intimidating and that you radiated it so much that people just left you alone. like he admired the fact that you mostly kept to yourself and to your small group of people

but all this also annoyed him so much too. like how dare you be all what i’m attracted to in a person?

and when he saw the second, deeper side of you, the realer side of you, watched you clumsily trip over your own words, watched you as you laughed at the stupidest of jokes, watched as you livened up your group the moment you approached them, he figured that this would be it. it would be his red flag, what finally throws him off and turns his feelings for you down

but if anything, it just made it a lot worse. he began to like you even more

which just made him all the more hostile towards you, unabashedly so. he’s never been one to hold back on his teasing and tormenting, and you’re not about to become an exception

and it continues on like this for the longest time, him pushing you away whenever he can, until you finally snap

maybe it happens with the two of you ending up accidentally locked in a storage room somewhere in school. you text a friend to ask them to look for a teacher, but you end up having to wait much longer than anticipated, and he says something that makes you break, just tearfully and angrily turning to him and asking him what the hell his problem is, why he’s so rude to you

he hadn’t expected this reaction from you. if anything, he’d expected you to be the exact same way everyone else made you out to be

but seeing the way your eyes teared up, a confused and angry expression on your face, he,,, he deflated. he’s instantly filled with regret, and he inwardly cringes, because this backfired, and it backfired badly, on him

he doesn’t reply to you after you yell at him, and it just ends up being really, really quiet in the room as you wait for your friend to get a teacher to come unlock it

until, really, really quietly, in a low voice, to your surprise, he apologizes

when you don’t reply, he repeats it, and adds, “i just — liked you a little too much. and i didn’t know how to — deal with it.”

and all you take from that is, “liked?”

he has to scoff. “like,” he corrects.

you learn overtime that that really is tsukki’s way of expressing his love, and just as he accepts you for all you are, you accept him just as much, regardless

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu headcanons #osamu x reader #osamu headcanons #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima kei headcanons

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amiedala · 4 years ago

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Something More (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 4: Protectors

Rated: Explicit (we’re FINALLY getting to the actual explicit stuff y’all!)

Warnings: descriptions of violence, mentions of stalking/hunting, descriptions of sexual activity

Summary: “Too bad,” you manage, finally, hoping that your voice doesn’t break, “you protect me, I protect you, give and take, Mando, that’s how this works—”

And then you stop because his hands are on you. So fast. Lightning quick. One grabs at your side, thumb pressing lightly against where your scar bottoms out on the left of your abdomen, the other on the right side of your face, fingers tangled in the mess of your hair. You gasp, shudder, and breathe out as he grabs you. As easily as he squeezes, though, his grip detracts to barely there at all, and he slowly pushes you back against the wall. Every nerve on your body is on fire. You breathe, uneven and desperate, as his grip on your hip trails up your side until he has both big hands cupped against your face.

He’s eclipsing you. All you can see in your line of vision is him, and, peripherally, the distorted reflection of your heaving chest pressed up against the cool beskar, everything swallowed up by him. It’s devastating. It’s everything. You can barely breathe.

You dream about him that night.

Well, you’ve dreamed of him every night. It started when you fell asleep face to face, and now he lives in your head. You think some crucial part of it has been wiped clean simply for the sheer space of memory that’s just him. You don’t even know his name. You don’t know how old he is. You don’t know anything about him except that he’s a Mandalorian, he seems to have had adopted the child, and that he has thrown himself directly in harm’s way for you twice now.

Thoughts like that live on while you sleep. Vibrantly so. Sometimes, the dream changes and you’re on top of him, or those huge hands are inside you, or you hear him gritting out your name through the modulator as he—

Somehow, you always seem to wake up before anything in the dream can finish. It’s maddening, to say the very least. Everything with him seems to overlap until it doesn’t.

It’s been a handful of days since your narrow escape on Coruscant, and both of you have healed from your injuries on the planet’s surface. You haven’t been as close to Mando since you slept face to face that night, his head slipped down on your shoulder. When you had woken in the morning, he was gone, and you frantically searched the entirety of the bottom half of the ship for any trace of him leaving before you heard him playing with the baby up the ladder, and when you ascended into the cockpit, you were back in hyperspace.

You’d been in the air for the most part, only stopping briefly down on planets to refuel and replenish whatever stock of food the three of you needed on the ship. You weren’t sure where you were going next. You don’t even remember asking him where the next planet was, just that you knew you were going somewhere. The two tracking fobs he had left to complete before returning the bounties to the Guild blinked from the dashboard, stuttering out of rhythm ever so slightly. You watched them in the dark, sometimes, when you slept upstairs in the cockpit and tried your best to not let your mind wander to the man sleeping a level below you.

Sometimes, more often than not now, your hands would slip absentmindedly into your pants and you’d find yourself conjuring up the gruffness of the Mandalorian’s voice when you touched yourself. Twice now, you’ve finished to the memory of him saying, “where did he hurt you”, and it’s an instinct so natural you don’t even realize that you’re getting yourself off to the rhythm of his words until you’re done. Once, he climbed the ladder almost immediately after you finished, and you had to wipe the warm slick off your fingers on your pants when he asked you to hold the baby. They’re still stained, and the thought of him noticing it—or walking in on you while you’re in the act—has occupied almost all of your waking hours.

It’s better on ruminating on how narrowly you escaped getting hurt by the thug a few weeks back, or on your mind reliving every single memory of how badly you handled being alone on Coruscant the last time you were there—two thoughts that you tried very hard to push away—until the Mandalorian brings it up, almost a full week later.

“You did good,” he says, and you have no idea what he means. For a split second, you think he’s talking about you touching yourself last night, and you have to stifle a yelp when you ask him what he means. “Back on Coruscant. The ship doesn’t handle easy.”

“Oh,” you say, “thank you. I think the Crest has something against me.”

He doesn’t laugh, but you almost think you’re hearing a lighter voice coming through the modulator. “It’s old.”

“As old as me?”

He looks back at you, and you swear you can feel his gaze locked on you again. “How old are you?”

You swallow. “Twenty-five.”

The Mandalorian keeps his visor on you for a second, and then turns back to the front, focusing on the space you’re hurtling through.

“The ship is older than you,” he confirms.

“Explains why it’s so cranky.”

He looks back at you, and you giggle. A few moments pass, and he says, “so am I.”

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do with that information, quite honestly. Are you supposed to ask him how old he is? Maybe he’s seventy under the armor. Until you saw his stomach back on Coruscant, you often wondered if he looked exactly like the baby under there, or if he was a Quarren or a Gungan or something else entirely alien.

It takes you a minute, but you finally ask, “Are you younger than the ship?”

“No.”

“Are you twice the ship’s age?”

The Mandalorian looks back at you again, and if you weren’t hurtling through hyperspace and the Razor Crest wasn’t mostly running on autopilot, you would have cracked a joke about distracted driving.

“No.”

“But you’re older than the baby,” you joke.

He pauses again. “The kid is fifty.”

“What?” you shriek, and turn, betrayed, to the little green child hovering innocently in his egg next to you. He coos. You look back and forth between them, incredulous, and then a laugh filters out of the modulator.

“I don’t know how he ages. But he’s definitely still a baby.”

“Maker,” you say, still flummoxed. “Baby, you don’t look a day over thirty.” He coos at you, and you grin, folding your knees up to your chest in the chair.

“The kid is older than me,” Mando says, and then all attention is on him again.

“Well,” you manage, “then we’re working with a gap of twenty-five years.”

It seems the conversation is over, and you’ve been preoccupied with the kid, when Mando finally speaks again.

“I don’t know,” he says, and you look at him, curious, confused, “how old I am exactly.”

You’re about to ask what he means when the ship lurches again, and both of you are thrown sideways. You had strapped yourself in this time. You didn’t want a repeat of Coruscant, in any capacity. The way the Crest handled was atrocious. It was an old, cantankerous piece of junk, and it seemed to defy every other order either of you gave it. It also decided to blindside you out of nowhere, which was… well, it was like both your dirty subconscious and your conversations with Mando that teetered on something more, right before you hit the impact. Mando hauled the navigation drive up, and suddenly you were all right side up again.

“What was that?” You manage, blowing rogue hair out of your face.

He pointed. “Asteroid field.”

You squinted out the window. “Where are we?”

The Mandalorian was silent for a minute, and you didn’t push him. You weren’t in any rush for him to leave again, if you were being quite honest with yourself, and were soaking in all the tiny moments of the two of you cohabitating the ship for as long as you possibly could.

“Jakku.”

You hadn’t ever been on Jakku. You knew that it was a dry, hot wasteland like Tatooine, but that all the Rebel connections here had dried up over the years, and it had lots of small outposts where scavengers could bring practically anything dug up from the sand to make a little money. It was also worlds away from Coruscant, which was probably why it had taken so long to get here. Truthfully, it sounded dangerous in ways that you’d always feared the heat for, and your stomach flipped over a little in the recognition that he was probably going to leave again. You had been so spoiled with the last few missions—they had taken hours, and not one had swallowed up a full day, let alone weeks. He had warned you when you first joined that he could be gone for a week if he were tracking someone particularly difficult to locate, and the small sadness that pained in your gut when you barely knew Mando was a blip compared to the wrench you felt whenever he left your line of sight now. Seeing him get hurt, having to pull him back from that—you hated it. You hated knowing that he wasn’t infallible, regardless of that big shiny armor and the combination of his stealth and quickness. You wanted to tell him it, sometimes, that you hated seeing him leave, but there was still that anxious twang that came attached to how deeply you felt every single interaction, how you make things out of nothing, and you don’t think you could take it if he ever rejected you.

“Is the bounty…difficult?”

Mando seems to deliberately not hear your question, and something flares deep inside you, allowing you to pretend his resistance is because he doesn’t want to admit he doesn’t want to leave you, either, but you swallow and try to be patient.

“Not as difficult as the last one.”

“How dangerous is he?”

Mando takes a second with that one, too, and you aren’t prepared for him to turn towards you. His visor pauses on you, just for a moment, and you offer up a half smile. You have no idea if he’s reciprocating under the mask, when he finally answers.

“She’s nothing I can’t handle.”

She? That tiny, betrayed part of your mind screams, and you have to fight the urge to physically kick away your jealousy. He’s hunting her. Hunting her down, whoever she is, and bringing her back to the ship in shackles. Stop it, you chastise yourself, what, do you want him to hunt you down? Get it together.

Yes, your traitorous, primal possessiveness taunts. Yes, you want him to hunt you.

Maker. You were going to have to square up with this needy, animalistic part of yourself the second Mando left. You were going to kick its ass, because this was absolutely ridiculous—you still hadn’t responded to his last comment.

“You’re objectively…better than her, right?”

He looks back at you. “Expand.”

“You aren’t going to get shot again?”

Mando’s gaze fixates on you yet again. You swallow dry air.

“A blaster’s not really her speed.”

What did that mean?

The baby babbles. He’s reaching out his tiny green fingers for the ball that rests, perennially unscrewed, on top of one of the levers. Absentmindedly, Mando pops it off and hands it to him. The baby coos as he plays with it, trying to teethe on its smooth metal surface. You watch him as he finds so much joy from one small object, not paying attention to how quickly the Crest is dropping onto Jakku’s wasteland surface.

You don’t say much. Mando doesn’t say anything. If you try hard, really hard, you can imagine that he’s regretting leaving you and the kid as much as you’re dreading it. You don’t know why you can’t voice any of this out loud. It should be easy, by now, you’ve pretty much become a permanent fixture here. He fell asleep with his head on your shoulder, your fingers intertwined, a few nights ago. He’s offering voluntary information about himself to you now, which is a complete 180 from how stoic in his silence he was when he first brought you on board. He offered up safe delivery out of Nevarro and then refused to let you leave the ship anywhere dangerous. He let you fix a wound on his bare skin—something you know goes against the rumored Mandalorian creed. There’s all these signs, blinking and humming in the back of your mind, that the way you feel around him—something earned, something real, something more—is mutual. You know you attach big stakes to everything, that you think the galaxy has been leaving you signs, when there’s no higher power orienting you to some elevated purpose. But the way the air burns around him, how right you feel with Mando and the baby…you’d bet your life that he felt it too.

Even just a fraction. Even just in the back of his mind.

When you make your landing, the ship stubbornly creaks into the uneven sand, and you’re glad you’re still strapped in. The Crest had it out for you. You loved it in the way you’d love an old house—broken and creaky around the edges, but warm enough to still call home. The Mandalorian didn’t ask you to follow him down the ladder this time, but you did anyway, out of some habit you’re trying to force. The baby toddles around the lower deck as he flings himself to his father’s shoes, and you scrunch up your lips to the side, a sore attempt at mimicking his expression. You can’t ask Mando not to leave. This is his job. You’re lucky he didn’t let you get taken out by either of the men that tried to hurt you, or leave you for dead on Nevarro, or kick you out on Coruscant.

But stars, you want to.

Somehow, he breaks the silence first. “I’ll be back within a few days.”

Your heart sinks. “Days?”

He looks at you, the visor suddenly impenetrable. “She’s dodgy. I’m not expecting to be gone more than three.”

“What if you are?”

Silence swells up in the air around you both. Your amateur handling of the Razor Crest on the last planet was only possible because you barely had to get anywhere. Jakku was huge, and incredibly desolate, and you didn’t trust yourself enough to figure out exactly where Mando was if there was a dire emergency. And he’d never told you what kind of quarry he was tracking before, which gave you a sinking suspicion that he wasn’t confident that he’d come back completely unscathed.

“Here,” he says, finally. His voice is softer through the modulator. He hands you the commlink again, and you wrap it around your wrist, intentional. “Remember—”

“Only for emergencies?” you interrupt, and give him a soft smile. You can be lenient. You can pretend that you won’t be staring at it for days on end, waiting for his deep voice to crackle across the stars to you.

“Good girl.”

He turns, quickly, like ripping off a bandage, which is probably for the best, because you don’t want him to see your knees going weak at his two words, or how that heat he gives you rushed deep down in between your thighs, warm and wet enough to line your underwear. You stand there, mouth open, just gaping at his retreating figure as he walks out into the sand.

The baby pulls at your leg, and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to yank your jaw off the floor and pay attention to him. He’s started begging for lullabies now, with his big bug eyes, and so you oblige, singing past the devastation and tingling that the Mandalorian has left behind in his wake until the kid is finally asleep. You think he does it so much to self-soothe when his daddy leaves, because he’s usually always awake in his presence. You usually don’t like when the little guy fades off when it’s just the two of you, because at least while he’s awake you can talk out loud to him and not feel like you’re going crazy being cooped up inside the ship, but right now…right now, you have other priorities.

You make sure that the kid is sleeping soundly, and you walk up the ladder as quietly as you can, trying to get snug under your blankets in the makeshift bed you’ve made in the corner, and when you finally get yourself comfortable, you play the words good girl over and over again in your mind while you slip your fingers down your pants and into the slick between your legs. You try to picture him in your mind, the way he looks under that mask, his eyes trained on you—what color were they?—and rub tight little circles to the sound of his voice, etched in your memory.

Nothing comes. You can feel it building inside you, that gold rush that sends sparks down your body when you usually orgasm, but right now, it’s like you’re teetering right on the edge. You throw your head back in desperation, in frustration, and you remove your shaking hand for just a second to refocus on him, and when your fingers return to your clit you think this is it, this has to be it—Nothing.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you exclaim, pressing both hands to your eyes as if the stars to explode there instead. You can feel it building, still, even while there’s absolutely nothing in the way, and no matter what happens, you can’t cum.

You’re frustrated. You’re very frustrated. In every version of the word. You huff, yanking up your pants too roughly and pacing around the ship’s dark hull. This is all you’ve wanted for days, this small moment of release, and he just gave you the words to get yourself off by just thinking about it, and…nothing? Really?

You pace and then slide back down the ladder. Maybe you can get outside, just for a few seconds, feel the heat on your face, and maybe that’ll force it to come somewhere else, and you’re tiptoeing past the baby and getting your blaster from the armory, and then you pass the alcove where Mando’s cot is hidden away in, and you’re about to open the airlock—

Wait. Mando’s bed.

Your heart catches in your chest, skips a couple beats. This is not good. This is wrong. This is a horrible, dirty, depraved, very bad idea.

But before you can stop yourself, you’ve pressed your trembling fingers to the button that reveals his bed, and the doors fly open. You throw yourself in quickly, as if that’ll lessen the impact, and you throw yourself down on your back, looking at the ceiling.

It’s so dark in here. It smells like him. It’s like his soap has scrubbed down the bed, the way it’s wafting through the air. In here, it’s like a holding chamber. If you close your eyes hard enough, you can imagine he’s right there with you, his body large and uncloaked of armor, his skin exposed everywhere but the helmet, his hands on your hips while you’re straddling him like you did the other day to patch up his wound, him saying good girl as he moves inside you—

Well. Your fingers didn’t even have to slip back into your pants for you to cum this time.

You bite down on the back of your hand as it ripples through you, your ears absolutely deafened by the way your body vibrates like static. You clap your other hand over the one you’ve sunk your teeth into to simply drown out the sound in hopes that it’ll recede.

It takes probably five minutes. You sit there, in complete darkness, shell-shocked. The embarrassment and the shame you feel of getting off in someone else’s bed doesn’t even compare to the feeling of doing it. Maker, you’re going to bad places when you die. Bad, dark, awful places. The internal chastising you’re trying valiantly to give yourself fades off into the background as you relive it over and over, imagining him telling you you’re a good girl again, back in this bed, wearing considerably less, when he comes back to you. Visions of him telling he’ll never leave you again dance through your head when, suddenly, you fade off into nothing.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep. You don’t remember doing it.

But you wake up, and you’re still in Mando’s bed. You’ve pulled his blanket up around your shoulders, and it’s rough and tattered compared to yours, but you don’t even care. Your skin easily irritates when it’s against fabric that hurts, but you’ll take on the rash for this. You are so snug, so warm, and then it hits you that you’re sleeping in his bed, the same bed that you came all over last night, and you sit up in a panic.

You check the sheets, and there’s no mess. You haven’t really disturbed the bed at all, really, come to think of it. You lay back down, still groggy with sleep. He said he was going to take a few days. There’s no reason why you couldn’t sleep here tonight, too, maybe you’d even take the baby in here with you—

The baby. You shoot back up in a panic, suddenly completely awake. When you throw open the door, and launch yourself out of the bed, you find him toddling around on the floor, with that little silver ball he loves so much in his adorable stubby fingers.

“Baby.”

He turns to look at you, making noises of recognition when you fall out of his father’s bed, and you pick him up, swinging his tiny green body through the air.

He coos at you, pulling on the blanket that is somehow still around your shoulders. Dank ferrik. That wasn’t supposed to come with you. You gingerly pry it from his grip. He looks at you, back at the blanket that’s been put back into the alcove, and then his big eyes well up and he starts to cry.

“No,” you whisper, and then, louder, “no, it’s okay, baby! You don’t need to cry! I’ll—here, I’ll sing you some nice little tunes, and we can dance—”

At this, he wails even harder, and you wipe away the array of tears with your free hand. He claws towards something, and you pull him into your chest before you realize he wants the blanket. You pull it back out and drape it around his tiny body. “Hey, bug, it’s okay.” You swaddle him the best you can, and then he wipes his tiny nose against the tattered thing, and you try to pull it away before you realize he’s not wiping his nose. He’s sniffing the blanket. The blanket that smells like his dad. And, more recently, you.

“It’s okay,” you say, soothingly, swinging him from side to side, bringing those big eyes in towards the crook of your shoulder. He clings to it, just a little, but it’s enough to know he wants to stay nestled up there. “You miss your daddy, huh, sweetness?”

He coos, muffled, against your neck.

“Me too,” you admit, with no one but the kid and the dark hull of the Crest to hear you.

Another day passes. Then another. You’re starting to go a little stir crazy. If Jakku didn’t scare you, you would have gone outside and taken the baby for a little walk, but you’re still nervous, jumpy leftovers from the last man who had boarded the ship, not to mention that it’s a desert, foreboding wasteland everywhere you could possibly go. You bring him outside at least once a day, though, not even fully on the ground, just down the gangplank, so that you can both have some fresh air and touch something that isn’t shiny metal or whatever scraps of food you’ve been feeding to you both.

You like the baby. Love him. He rocks. He’s the cutest thing in the entire world. You had sworn off starting a family back when your parents died, because missing them hurt too much and you didn’t want another possibility to make that hurt permanent, but you would sign adoption papers tomorrow if you meant you got to care for the little one forever. His dad was just the bonus, you’d almost convinced yourself, to satiate that hungry, aching, nervous pit in your stomach that grows bigger and bigger every hour Mando’s still not back.

You’ve cleaned the interior of the ship. Three times. Yesterday, you used the fresher twice, simply for the acoustics of that room, so you could sing and pretend you were giving a show at a cantina, and okay, maybe a little bit for the smell of Mando’s soap on your skin.

His bed is much more uncomfortable than the nest you’d been sleeping in on the floor, but it smells like him, and it’s warm, and if you close your eyes and push up against the wall, you can imagine it’s him in the beskar enough to get you to sleep. Worry aside, you’ve slept better the past two nights than you have in what feels like years. It’s partly because you’re imagining he’s there, partly because you know you’re safe in here, and partly because this place feels more like home than any other one you’ve ever belonged to.

You’re starting to get worried, though. You know he insisted that the commlink was only for emergencies, and you didn’t want to distract him on his mission. Or bother him, more likely, the Mandalorian wasn’t a man who got distracted easily, but still, you thought about it. Distracting him. The baby wakes up sometimes, and you pretend to be completely engrossed in attending to his every need, because when he falls asleep or shows more interest in his ball than you, the silence and fear creeps back in.

Another day passes before you’ve gone on long enough without hearing word.

“Hey,” you whisper into the commlink. You’re in his bed. Again. You’re not proud of it, but you can’t pry yourself from it. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but—it’s been four days, and she’s dangerous, and I—the baby misses you.”

You press the button. You hope that’s sufficient. You just sit there, staring at the artificial light in the darkness, tummy flipping over every second that passes where you don’t hear from him.

It’s been full minutes, and you lay back down. You pull his itchy blanket up to your shoulder, huddle on your side. You’ll keep your wrist next to you in sleep, so he can talk in your ear and wake you up if he needs to—

“Are you there?”

His voice is quiet. Through the modulator and the link, you have to strain your ears in the vibrating nothingness to make out the shape of his words.

“I’m here,” you answer. It spills out of you, too fast.

“No emergencies,” he says, and you can feel your cheeks flush with the reprimand before you realize it sounds more like reassurance.

“No emergencies here either,” you manage. “The baby is still as cute as ever. You parked near a good radio station. I’ve been singing to him—”

“Careful,” he warns, and your heartbeat quickens before you can ask what. “The first word that comes out of his mouth is going to be sung, not spoken.”

You giggle, the air cutting through the darkness. “Would that be so bad?”

He’s silent for a minute, and you relax back into his pillow, the commlink pressed up against your face.

“I don’t think I could handle having both of you singing,” he says, and his voice rumbles through you in a way you can’t place until you remember the baby is fifty and hasn’t even spoken his first word yet. The Mandalorian is signing on for years with you, then, maybe full-on decades, maybe for life, with how slowly the kid progresses—you have to bite down on your lip.

“Maybe I’ll shut up when he starts.”

You can hear him shifting. He’s still so quiet. You wonder where he is. You wonder if he’s gotten close to his bounty yet, if she’s anywhere near him—that unfairly jealous part of you roils in your belly, and you push your fist into it as if to shove back the unreasonable thought.

“That’d be a shame,” he finally says.

“Do you like my singing?”

He’s quiet again. You listen through the silence. He speaks so sporadically, it shouldn’t surprise you, but being in anticipation of what comes next is almost as good as the words themselves. “I like your voice.”

Your voice. That could mean anything. That could mean your singing in the shower or the questions you ask him or the way he makes you giggle or the way you’d moan out his name, if you were ever lucky enough to learn it—you realize you haven’t spoken. “I like yours, too.”

He’s quiet. He doesn’t speak again. You know how late it is. “Have you slept?” you ask, quietly, just in case he’s fallen asleep.

“A bit.” You can hear him adjusting. “I’m close to town. I tracked her here.”

You nod, forgetting he can’t see you. “When do you think you’ll be ba—will have completed the mission?” you ask. You bite your lip in the surrounding silence.

“By sunrise,” he says. “You better fall asleep. I want you both awake when I return to the ship.”

Your stomach flips over in excitement, then in dread. “Do I have to hide from her?”

He’s silent. You slide your thumbnail between your teeth, breath bated in anticipation of his answer.

“Just be ready,” he finally says. “Don’t hide unless I tell you to.”

“I’ll anticipate it,” you counter. “I’ll be awake at sunrise.”

“Set an alarm.” His voice is quick, but you can feel the lightness to it. “Or three.”

“I’ll have you know,” you say sleepily, “that I can be wide awake at the first alarm when I need to be—”

“And,” he adds, interrupting you, “stay near my bed in case you do need to hide.”

Before you can say anything in response to that, the link clicks off. You’re in the darkness, again, that swell in your legs, the buzzing in your ears, the excitement in your heart. The last thing you remember before you fall back asleep is, he’s coming home.

Your name comes from seemingly nowhere, and you jolt up from where you’ve been sleeping. Very comfortably. You wipe sleep from your eyes as you fumble around from the source of it.

It’s the commlink. Of course.

“I’m here,” you manage, through your very groggy morning voice.

“I’m almost back.”

You dig a heel of your hand into your eye before all the moving parts click together in your mind. That’s Mando’s voice, and it must be close to sunrise, because if he’s heading back, he’s definitely got the bounty.

“I—where should I go?”

You don’t hear anything for a long moment, and you hurriedly slide out of his bed, trying to arrange the blanket and pillow in the same formation that it was before you defiled it, and can’t remember enough what it looked like almost five days before but you hope that Mando’s memory has been distracted enough by his hunt that he won’t notice. You find the baby, place him back in his egg, and shake your head firmly when he gives you his big eyes pleading to get down.

“Where are you?”

You sleepily survey your surroundings. “I am against the wall.”

He sighs. “Which wall?”

“The one across from the fresher. Near your bed.” You feel your cheeks flush with that admission, even though he can’t possibly know that you’ve holed up in there since he’s been gone.

“And the baby?”

“He’s beside me.” You pull your gun out, too, and loosely holster it in the belt around your leg. “And I have my blaster.”

“Good,” he says, and no girl follows it, and despite the circumstances, you feel a twang of sadness.

“How close are you?”

The link goes silent. Again. It’s become his modus operandi to just leave you in the lurch, right when you’re on the edge of the conversation, and while it’s hard to get frustrated with him when that pull of sureness inside you is always tuned to the highest frequency, you want to whine about it.

You cut yourself off. Nope. He’s bringing back a bounty. You cannot get distracted, not now, no matter how bad you want him. Not the time. On a whim, you run into the fresher and you splash water on your face, enough to wake you up and keep you alert.

There’s a noise outside the ship, and you immediately push the baby’s floating cradle behind you, fingers on your blaster. You could handle whatever was happening. You actually had your fingers on something tangible, and you were a good shot when it came down to it.

It turns out, the reason why the Mandalorian didn’t tell you how soon he’d be coming back because he was already pretty much there. You tense, then relax upon the first glimpse of the beskar on his helmet you got, and then tens again when the gangplank is lowered down to the hot sand of Jakku.

She…looks dangerous. She’s a Twi’lek. Long, and slim, a very dangerous shade of purple. The first thing you notice isn’t how alien she looks in comparison to the sand around the gangplank, or how she moves with a confident, seductive swagger, but the way her tongue dances in circles around her teeth. Her canines are sharp, pointed, hungry.

You didn’t scare easily. You had worked hundreds of jobs with people who had every intention to double-cross and discard you. You faced off against the intruder on the ship with your only instinct to protect the baby in mind, not your own safety. That’s why Mando had brought you aboard.

But you look at her, and you’re scared. It’s her teeth and the way her eyes lock onto you, immediately, dangerously, like she knows she could intimidate you. And then probably flog you within an inch of your life and leave you for dead. You’d been there before. You knew how it looked.

“What do we have here?” she purrs, turning around to face Mando. He shoves her, once, roughly, and she steps forward so that his blow won’t hit as hard, tongue tracing the outline of her teeth. “You got yourself a little pet.”

Your eyes glance in fear to the baby, but the way he looks back at you makes you realize that she was talking about you, not the kid. You thumb your blaster, stepping forward, trying to remain impervious.

“Hello, there,” she whispers, and you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t want to look away from her—you can just tell, instinctually, that she could strike instantaneously, just lying in wait for a moment of weakness—but you can’t help it. You look at Mando, hoping your raised eyebrow signals your fear and your level of discomfort, and the way his visor locks on you is enough to know he had calculated the risk and knew he could beat her. His hand is still outstretched, slightly, as she meanders over to you.

“Look, Mando,” she hisses, pointing back and forth between the two of you. Instinctually, you push the baby’s cradle back even further, putting your full hand on your blaster. You glance up at him again, and then catch a flash in the low light of the ship, and realize she’s handcuffed. Even shackled, though, you can see how her sharp teeth glint, how her eyes hold venom you’d never even seen. “Have you taken your helmet off for her yet?”

He stands there. You have absolutely no idea what you were in the middle of, but suddenly, it felt like you were the outsider here, not her. Your stomach flipped over with the possibilities. Had he taken his helmet off for the bounty? Had he betrayed his creed for her? You swallow, grit your teeth, loading your tongue behind them just in case whatever she gave you next could be responded to.

“She’s pretty,” she appraises, tongue finding her canine, and before you can react, she lunges close to your face, close enough that you can feel the hot wash of air, clicking her teeth menacingly right in front of your nose. You don’t jump, but the flinch of closing your eyes felt bad enough. You knew it was the wrong move the second your eyes squeezed shut. “Aw, look at that.” She sniffs. You don’t move. “She scares like a little Ewok, Mando, is that why you keep her locked away on the ship—"

Suddenly, a flash of beskar moves through the air between you two, and the Twi’lek is snapped back, recoiling and hissing at how hard he hit her.

“I don’t need to remind you that I have no issue bringing you in cold.”

You recoil at that, how detached and distorted his voice seems. You know that the modulator evens it out, for the most part, and that you tend to imagine his voice comes out softer and warmer to you than anyone else. But right now? Right now, his voice is stone cold. He sounds murderous. Dangerous. Scary. The kind of threat that scared off the man on Nevarro. The kind of threat that you know he gives to his bounties. The kind of threat he’s never once showed to you.

You swallow.

“I dare you,” the Twi’lek says, and she turns from you, just for a second, to slide up to him. So much of her skin is reflected in the beskar that it’s turning the entirety of the interior of the Crest purple. “Try to kill me. We both know you need me, whether you like it or not, that I’m still the best you’ve ever had—”

Before you can react, before you can do anything, the Mandalorian has a knife against her throat. You have no idea where it comes from. You want to react, to say something, to not sit there bumbling like a faulty droid, but you’ve got nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

“Slice me with my knife,” she whispers, taunting him. “Do it. Put on a show for your little weakling girlfriend behind me and kill me. We both know you can’t—”

You unfreeze, suddenly, so quickly that you don’t realize what you’re doing, until you yank her slender shoulder back away from the knife Mando has in his grip and shove her headfirst into the carbonite chamber. She howls, but you press the button—that’s your one move, slamming your hands against things and miraculously making them work in the moment of truth—and her terrifying, hungry face gets swallowed up in the gas. You shove her backwards—well, the block of her—so that it slams into the other bounties that have been frozen in time in between your last trip to Nevarro, and it’s only when you’re sure she’s completely immobilized that you finally exhale, hands on your knees, chest heaving. The world around you is spinning. You check your arms and throat frantically, just to make sure she didn’t nick you with something sharp while you were frozen.

When your breathing regulates, and all your bumps and bruises only tally up evenly to the ones you had before today, you look up at Mando. He’s seemingly stuck, too, the sharp knife still in his gloved hand, completely immobile. You tap his outstretched hand to be sure you didn’t accidentally catch him with your fairly heroic carbonite rescue, and he only becomes responsive to your touch on his gloved one.

“Hey,” you say, softly, to not startle him anymore, “I’m okay—are you? Are you okay?”

“Thank you,” he says, gruffly, his fingers still clenched tight around the knife that came out of nowhere, and you just know that underneath his glove, his knuckles are white. You can hear it in his voice.

“What—oh. You’re welcome. I’m sorry I didn’t react sooner, that I let her go on like that—”

“I was going to kill her.” Even through the modulator, you can hear there’s something complicating his voice. You move forward, gently, trying to pry his fingers off the knife. Your body is so close to his, your neck straining as you look up from his hand to his helmet. You don’t know why this is so difficult for him to reconcile, when you’ve seen him take out at least twenty people, easily, since you came aboard. You don’t like the killing, but you understand his necessity, sometimes, and his disconnect from it. It’s what he does, it’s his job, his survival. You don’t know why this one was so different. “If you didn’t—I was going to slit her throat.”

You’re the one who’s silent, now. You have absolutely no idea what to say, especially considering that him needing solace over the thought of killing someone—not even actually killing them—is completely foreign to you. You inhale, exhale, and then take a half-step closer, moving his last finger off the knife. “You didn’t,” you whisper, earnest, slipping the knife out of his grip and reaching in closely behind him to put it safely in the armory. “You didn’t.”

He looks at you. Up and down. It’s dark in here, but you can track his visor. You have absolutely no idea what’s going on behind it. Despite all of this, despite the way you had both been moving in sync lately, despite how you felt the magnetic pull of the universe with him, he just went radio silent. None of this seemed in character. For the first time since you met him, you felt like you were in over your head.

“I was going to,” he repeats, and you nod, slowly. “She’s not worth anything to the Guild dead, but I would have done it in a second—”

“—You didn’t,” you interrupt, enunciating each syllable, “it’s okay, you can turn her in frozen like that, and we can get far away from her, you don’t have to be—”

“—to protect you.”

You come to a full stop, breath catching in your throat.

“I would have spilled her guts all over the floor in front of you—in front of my kid—to protect you. And then you protected me instead.”

You can feel your mouth falling open in shock. The baby, funnily enough, has decided to move his floating egg upstairs, and you’re glad he’s getting out of the line of fire. You swallow, looking back at Mando. “I did.”

“That’s not your job.”

You have whiplash. His voice has gone from detached to emotional to brash. You have no idea what you’re supposed to say to that, to say to any of this. You feel a familiar, dizzying rush, the beginnings of tears pinpricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Too bad,” you manage, finally, hoping that your voice doesn’t break, “you protect me, I protect you, give and take, Mando, that’s how this works—”

“That’s not your job,” he repeats, but now his voice is almost as ragged as yours is, and so you nod.

His helmet comes forward, slightly, and he presses it into your forehead. “What is my job?” you squeak out, trying to not go cross-eyed as you try to catch any glimpse of his eyes under the visor. You can’t, so you close yours, in desperate anticipation.

He removes his helmet from against your forehead, and you sway forward, already missing his grip against you, until, suddenly, his head is in the hollow of your neck. Your breathing hitches again. You try your very best to not imagine what his voice would sound like without the modulator, what his lips would feel like pressed up against your skin, when his hand drops from your chin and trails back down your body, past your scar, past the bruises on your belly, and then it pauses.

“To take mine,” he grits out, his voice swelling up against the skin of your ear, and then your body slumps against the wall, and before you can beg for it, for anything, his hand rises, meeting you in the middle, fingers fitting perfectly between your thighs.

***

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CHAPTER 5 COMING SATURDAY JANUARY 23RD EST!!!! i hope y’all enjoy!!!

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lucientelrunya · 3 years ago

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Like a lonely house pt 3

Phew, I feel a little like that bird meme "the risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math" (which I really am *points to the 70 years that are actually 80 years* !!), with how I went "Huh, there is no 50.000+words slow burn of them, but I want!!!" and my brain was like "well, do it yourself. Here, have Chapter 1, 3, 6 and 9, I already prepared them. Oh and here is some Ba Ye+Wu Xie-friendship" And then I struggle with how to bridge the gap between those chapters.....

This part is me struggling really hard. Trying to bridge those gaps and trying to puzzle Mystic Nine-Canon and Book-Canon together. Like, Wu Laogou??? He wasn't even born? My perfectionism can't handle this!! But I guess I am like Hamilton, I'll never be satisfied *sigh*, so ... yeah. Feel free to point out any mistakes you spot!

I should definitely add that this is canon-divergent... ish (which canon???), I'm not sure if there is anything I should warn about in this part, maybe just more sadness? But @psychic-waffles and @gaiahenshin wanted someone to hug Zhang Rishan so ... here you go I guess ^^°°° (I see those tags and reblogs and favorites and I am beyond thrilled every single time, I don't even know how to react!)

It takes a conscious effort to make his lungs work properly again and take a deep breath. Fo Ye had entrusted him with his legacy and he will do everything he can to not disappoint him any further. He has to face the consequences of what he has done, he has to. But before he can get a grip on himself someone tips his chin up to shine a flashlight right into his eyes. He automatically flinches back from the blinding light, dislodging the hand from his face in the process and finds Huo Daofu staring at him, flashlight in his hand and one brow raised. “Back with us?” he asks, eyes scanning Zhang Rishan’s face methodically and only taking a step back once he nods slowly. How long had he stood frozen, trapped in his thoughts for Huo Daofu to come over and start to worry?

“Good. Any more insights on god-radio?” What is he talking about? "God-radio?" Zhang Rishan repeats slowly, confused, which only makes Huo Daofu raise both brows this time. He pointedly looks over at the mural where Zhang Rishan's fingers are still touching the picture of said god. Ah, they must have thought it was still somehow communicating with him.

“Time travel”, Zhang Rishan mutters, trying to ignore the way Luo Que hovers anxiously at his side and the way Ba Ye has his hands wrapped around his upper arm like he had always done when he wanted to hide behind him or was whining about something (and the possible connection between those two things). His words cause several confused “huh”’s from different directions. Taking a slow deep breath he braces himself to say the words, to confess and take the blame for this mess. “No, I didn't get any further godly insights, but I think Ba Ye is right, he never died, he was, as you phrased it so nicely, plucked from the past and put here, now”, he says, inclining his head at Wu Xie.

“But why?” Ba Ye asks and Zhang Rishan makes himself turn his head to look at him when he says his next words. “Because of me.” And there it is. “Because this god was inside my mind and it was so incredibly thankful I gave it its freedom that it wanted to give something to me in return, to grant me a wish.” Not that he had wished for Ba Ye to be ripped out of his time, exactly, his thoughts had been a jumbled mess at that moment. He had never consciously wished for anything in particular. But Ba Ye’s sudden disappearance in the middle of a war had torn a hole into Fo Ye’s heart and, by extension, into Zhang Rishan’s (not only by extension, of course, because Ba Ye had been important to Zhang Rishan, too - is important - but to Fo Ye he had practically been family). He could have said how Fo Ye had looked for Ba Ye for months, for years, with a war raging right on their doorstep, when thousands of people were dying or disappearing, when the city they had so desperately tried to protect had been burned to the ground. How Fo Ye had never truly gotten over not being able to find him - save him - or at least find out what happened. He had felt Ba Ye’s absence all his life, a regret he couldn’t let go of, not even on his deathbed. A regret Zhang Rishan had taken into his own heart, after Fo Ye’s death, added to his own regrets and moulded into a lump of regret-failure-pain-bitterness-sorrow that his trained mind still hasn’t filed away properly. He has failed Ba Ye, too, and has missed Ba Ye, too. And this is his mess, this is what his jumbled thoughts had made a god do, so he leaves it at that.

Zhang Rishan is prepared for anger, for reproaches, for being smacked again, but Ba Ye’s face is unreadable and he doesn’t say anything, his fingers around Zhang Rishan’s arm only slightly tightening their grip. He waits for something - anything - to happen, (maybe for the sky to fall down or the earth to open up and swallow him), for him to wake up and realize everything’s only just been a dream - nightmare? - or for one of them to tell him he’s crazy and there’s no way this could be possible. And someone does: “But that’s impossible, that would be a paradox”, Wu Xie says and Zhang Rishan looks at him pointedly.

“A bootstrap paradox, to be exact”, Huo Daofu remarks and really, that’s the part of all of this he wants to comment on? “A what now?” Pangzi asks, squinting at Huo Daofu and Zhang Rishan is glad he is not the only one who has no idea what Huo Daofu is talking about. “A bootstrap paradox. It basically describes phenomena with a cause-effect-loop just like this. I mean, you don’t know my gran, but she was absolutely obsessed with the famous Qi Tiezui so I don’t know how many times I heard the story of his tragic, mysterious disappearance and all the questions and the search and Zhang Da Fo Ye’s heartbreak.” He looks like he wants to roll his eyes in annoyance at the mention of his grandmother. “But that’s exactly that. He vanished and you wanted to find out why and that wish brought him here in the first place. So what came first? There is no discernable point of origin for- what, I like Sci-Fi, don’t look at me like that!”

It is somehow reassuring and disconcerting at the same time that Huo Daofu of all people manages to sum up his thoughts like this, aside from his guilt. And that he is able to put a name to this, even if that doesn’t mean it’s a real thing. Fiction is fiction after all. How can there even be such a thing? But then, how could there be a god chained to a cave or a mysterious force controlling people like that or golden coffin water that saved people from certain death? After everything else he has already seen and lived through or just heard about in his life he shouldn’t be so doubtful. It’s also quite unsettling how much Huo Daofu knows about Ba Ye’s disappearance and how casually he mentions those details. But Ba Ye doesn’t seem too upset about the mention of Fo Ye’s heartbreak, at least for the moment. Instead he perks up at Huo Daofu’s words.

“Good, good! After all you heard and all you read about that then it must be a real thing, so I think we can all agree that all of this is real and I am real!” And, curiously, Wu Xie looks at Liu Sang, who jerks his head in a small gesture of confirmation that’s not really a nod. But it is obviously enough for Wu Xie to smile at Ba Ye and nod. “Yes, I think we can. And I wanted to ask you something. You were the one who stole one of my grandpa’s dogs, right?” The question makes Ba Ye laugh awkwardly and let go of Zhang Rishan’s arm, so he can gesture at Wu Xie.

“Of course that’s what he would tell his grandchildren about me. Let me tell you, I took out that dog’s gallstones and I brought it back safe and sound! And he acted like I murdered it!” Wu Xie laughs at the face Ba Ye makes, or maybe his helpless gesturing. “He always said you kidnapped that dog just to get back at him.” Zhang Rishan isn’t sure if he imagines how the conversation tiptoes on the line of ‘friendly conversation’ and ‘fishing for information’. But he hadn’t been present for the whole Dog-stealing-thing, so he keeps listening, ignoring Pangzi who starts to tease Huo Daofu about his obvious love for science fiction and then continues to question him about his favorites.

“Aiyah! That’s just what I told Fo Ye, that Wu Laogou would never give me his dog if I asked him because he would think I wanted to get back at him. But I really wasn’t! We needed his gallstones to cure Mo Ce so Fo Ye said I had to steal it if I wouldn’t ask for it. So I stole it, but as I said, I brought it back better than new, freshly cured. And he even made me apologize to the dog!” That is actually something he hadn’t known, but Wu Xie laughing and saying “Of course he would!” is enough to finally fully convince him that all of this is real. It puts his mind at ease and shifts his focus to other things he still has questions about.

They should definitely find out more about this god and the people that imprisoned it. He takes out his phone to take some photos of the mural and finds it mostly covered in white, but just like before it just crumbles away in little flakes. Surprisingly his phone still works and there is no trace of dampness to it. For a moment he stares at the screen and then at his arm, where Ba Ye's hands had grabbed him. The dried white stuff has crumbled away where the cloth had been moved or touched, leaving no trace, no lingering wetness. Deliberately taking note of every part of his skin he realizes that actually nothing feels wet or damp, even though he practically swam in that liquid. He can only recall the feeling of the liquid clinging to him and dragging him down like water-soaked and heavy clothing would do, but it seems highly unlikely that he was unconscious long enough for his clothes to completely dry. It's like whatever was in the pool only wrapped itself around him, like a cocoon, but didn't soak through anything.

Luo Que is still beside him, silently watching him. His arms are covered in white flakes, too, so he must have helped Pangzi get him out of the pool. “Do you remember what the liquid felt like?” Luo Que looks confused for a moment, furrowing his brows until his eyes drift down to his own arms and he seems to get what Zhang Rishan is asking. “Not really like liquid, it felt cool but not wet at all”, he answers, rubbing at one of the larger stains that crumbles away under his fingertips. This only confirms his suspicions, he wants this stuff analyzed. Luo Que finds a zip-lock-bag somewhere in his backpack and together they manage to get at least some of the white flakes and dust into the bag, although it seems to disintegrate once it gets shaken off whatever surface it had clung to.

Wondering if this is even really a tomb he takes pictures of the whole mural. It seems more like a temple - no, they didn’t worship the god here, so more of a prison for a god if there is a word for such a thing. He turns only to find Ba Ye watching him, staring at his phone. Of course, the kinds of cameras Ba Ye knows were big and bulky so he hands it to Ba Ye. “It’s a camera and a phone”, he explains, which only makes Ba Ye stare harder, turning the device in his hands. “It’s so small!” His wonder makes Zhang Rishan smile and he promises to show Ba Ye what it can do later.

Which seems almost like a cue for them to decide to carefully explore the rest of the tomb for more information and to find out if it really is a tomb. They take the dagger, the only remarkable thing on the altar and maybe something that can help them find out more about the people that used it. Maybe at least how old this cave is. Zhang Rishan is still unsure if it’s a tomb or a prison, even after they find two more caves with clay jugs filled with human ashes. Cremation is not exactly a common burial tradition for this region and there are no grave goods at all. Not one single treasure, to Pangzi’s great disappointment, no more murals, no scripture, nothing. It’s mostly a disappointment in terms of exploration, but maybe they can find out some more.

Since it already got dark when they reached the tomb they decide to spend the night in the cave with the pool, which is the only one with enough room for all of them (and they don’t really want to sleep next to rows of human ashes). It’s still quite dark, even with Pangzi’s heater instead of a fire but more comfortable than outside where Liu Sang had heard rain and thunder. None of them goes to check, there is no need to hurry back, they can spend one night in the cave and hopefully the rain will have stopped the next day.

Reception in the cave is strong enough to mail the pictures to some contacts and ask them to look into it. Ba Ye watches him curiously while he types in the message and Zhang Rishan shows him all the other functions - or at least everything he frequently uses his phone for, which makes Pangzi laugh. “Ahh, President Zhang,” he scolds, using the title he had never used before. “You are all about work! Show the poor man some good things! Here, look at this game,” and he tucks on Ba Ye’s shoulder to get him to lean over his own phone.

“Pangzi, the ‘poor man’ doesn’t have a phone to send you money for your stupid game”, Wu Xie leans on Pangzi’s other shoulder, grinning and obviously finished with his phone call. “Ah, Tianzhen, pay attention. I’m already done with that one, this is a new one. Here, look!” Judging by the way all three of them look at the phone it must be something cute and Zhang Rishan finds himself smiling again, glad and thankful that they include Ba Ye so effortlessly. He will need people who can care for him and help him if he decides he won’t forgive Zhang Rishan after they get a chance to talk about everything that has happened since Ba Ye vanished.

This thought wipes the small smile off his face and he distracts himself by texting Liang Wan, asking her when she will be back from her trip because he wants her to check Ba Ye, blood tests and all. He will do everything he can to make sure Ba Ye is okay (or as okay as he can be) and has everything he needs for a life in the 21. century. Which is another reason why he offers Ba Ye his sleeping bag, who simply refuses, adamant that they can share. They end up with Zhang Rishan sitting on one half, leaning his back against the wall and Ba Ye using his leg as a pillow, curled up next to him on the other half. It’s familiar, but he represses the memories, busying himself with shrugging out of his coat without waking Ba Ye to drape it over him because he can feel him shiver against his leg. It seems to be getting colder but he doesn’t mind. Ba Ye doesn’t wake, but when he looks back up Wu Xie smiles at him from where Pangzi is halfway wrapped around him, head on Zhang Qilings lap.

When they pack up the next morning it’s still raining and it’s really noticeably colder than before. Zhang Rishan lets Ba Ye keep his coat, he will need some protection against the rain in his thin changshan, even if the thick forest they had hiked through should offer some protection against the rain. But when they leave the cave there is no more forest, only muddy ground where lush undergrowth had been and some tree stumps that look long dead.

“Well, the forest was unusual”, Liu Sang says but still seems just as perturbed as everyone else. For a moment they just stand there and look around them. “I guess they really needed that god to grow something around here”, Pangzi jokes, but he sounds uneasy about it. And how could they not be, with miles of dead land around them where hours before there had been fruit trees and berry bushes in abundance. Zhang Rishan represses a shiver of uneasiness and just wants to leave this place as soon as possible. He is not the only one. Instinctively they walk faster on their way back, or as fast as they can. The rain had made the ground slippery with mud and dead plants. None of them feels comfortable about stopping for the night but it’s safer than trying to navigate through the dark. Thankfully the rain stopped some time before that and they manage get a fire going, but still all of them are quiet and thoughtful, no trace of the easy banter of the day before.

They are packed and ready to go with the first light of the next day. Without the rain the ground dries up fast and the sun is too bright and too warm, which is actually typical for this region. At one point they cross a very visible line where the dead zone ends and there are plants and trees again, but they don’t stop to inspect it further, too glad to be out.

It’s mid afternoon when they reach the end of the road where they had left their cars and from there it’s only roughly another two hours to drive to the small village where they had spent the night before setting out on this endeavour. The villagers don’t seem to know that a whole forest has vanished and happily accommodate them again in the small inn. They had seemed to avoid the general area of said forest and hadn’t wanted to talk about it before, just whispering about local legends of a ‘man-eating wood’. Luckily the owner of the small inn doesn’t seem to remember their exact number or he simply doesn’t care that they left the allegedly cursed forest with an additional person. He gives them the same rooms (which are actually the only rooms available) and goes off to prepare dinner.

They disperse to their rooms to clean up and rest for a moment until dinner is ready. Wu Xie had made sure that Zhang Rishan shares his room with Ba Ye so they can talk, but both of them seem a bit reluctant to start. They wash in a somewhat uncomfortable silence until Zhang Rishan takes off the bandages, inspecting the two cuts on his arms and is surprised at the 2 neat rows of staples. He hadn’t realized they were that long and deep that they required stapling and is actually impressed at Huo Daofu’s level of preparation for such a small trip. He obviously knows what he is doing, the cuts are clean and already healing nicely. “Let me help you”, Ba Ye takes the fresh bandages out of his hand, and starts slowly wrapping them around Zhang Rishan’s arms.

“I understand there are a lot of things that have happened since I disappeared, so just tell me”, Ba Ye’s voice is quiet and he keeps his eyes on his hands. And, taking a deep breath to brace himself, Zhang Rishan tells him. About the second attack on Changsha, the third, and finally the fourth one when they lost and everything they had tried to protect had been destroyed. He doesn’t go into detail about all the lives that were lost in the war, while Ba Ye’s fingers work slower and slower until they stop, hovering over Fo Ye’s bracelet. Zhang Rishan pulls his arms away to tuck down his sleeves, hiding the bandages and the bracelet alike, while he only briefly mentions the destruction and despair. Ba Ye had seen enough of that after the first attack on Changsha. He tells him about the years after the war, how they slowly rebuild and how Fo Ye kept looking for Ba Ye. There are not only sad things to say - Fo Ye had been happy in his marriage with Xinyue, Er Ye had been pleased with his new apprentice, the Huo-Clan had thrived, just like the Xie-Clan - although those outweigh the good things, because one by one he recounts the deaths of everyone Ba Ye knows.

“I’m sorry”, he finishes and hates that the words don’t do justice to the depth of his feelings. “You lost them too”, Ba Ye says, his voice surprisingly steady and almost gentle, and Zhang Rishan stares at him, at a loss. Yes, he did. But little by little, parts of his world crumbling away, piece by piece, until only duty remained. He’d had time to adjust to the holes, find ways around them, new paths that had grown old and used and then been torn away, too. What he had lost in the course of 80 years Ba Ye had lost in one day, one moment, one blink of an eye.

“Yes”, he says and doesn’t know how to put into words that their pain shouldn’t be compared, because there are not enough words to even begin to describe this. Pain is something he has been trained to file away into different threat levels, into different boxes. He is not allowed to have one named ‘unbearable’, but he doesn’t know how else to label the pain of that one moment when the worst thing has happened and it feels like the world just stops, just shatters and falls to pieces, never to be whole again. But everything stays the same. It’s just his world that shattered, his heart that has been torn apart never to be whole again. He is the one who changed, not the world. And he doesn’t even fathom himself how he had to change to survive that, who he had to become. Because he had become a person that would cause that kind of pain to someone else like this. He had killed countless people in his lifetime, on purpose as a Zhang, as a soldier, in the war or by mistake, by failure, by not being able to save them but he had never thought himself capable of such cruelty.

Whatever Ba Ye reads in his face (or maybe in his heart, because Ba Ye had always been good at reading hearts), it makes him knit his brows. Not in anguish or sorrow but something more akin to chagrin and he grabs the sides of Zhang Rishan’s sweater to roughly tug him forward into a bone crushing hug. And Zhang Rishan allows himself to be moved, just like he had always allowed himself to be moved whenever Ba Ye was tugging on him.

Ba Ye presses his face into the crook of his neck, arms wrapping tightly around his sides, fingers digging into his shoulder blades and Zhang Rishan can feel the shaky inhale against the bare skin of his neck. Carefully he wraps his arms around Ba Ye’s shoulders and holds him up when he feels the other man lean most of his weight on him. He doesn’t say anything, when he feels the wetness of quiet tears against his shoulder, just closes his eyes, offering whatever comfort he can offer like this.

#fuba #zhang rishan #ba ye #qi tiezui #dmbj fic #mystic nine

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marvelettesassemble · 4 years ago

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Lost and Found (Charlie x Reader)

Summary: Soulmate AU – Things you lose appear with your soulmate and you knew you found your soulmate when you see a thing you lost years ago in his possession

Warnings: battle of Hogwarts?

Word Count: ~ 1.8k

Your fingers tried to find the little box you were searching for in your bag. In front of you stood your best friend, her eyes hopeful and expecting and now you couldn’t find her birthday present. Instead of the small box with a necklace that you had made yourself you found a glove. You pulled said item out and inspected it closely.

The smile on your friends face fell. “You lost my present?” she asked.

“Ugh, I can offer you one glove?” you held the new item in front of her. You friend sighed and told you it wasn’t your fault, but both of you knew that she was disappointed.

You weren’t quiete sure how it worked with the lost items and those who appear with you. You tried to lose something deliberately with your name on it so your soulmate knew who you were, but you couldn’t get rid of that piece of paper. However, the birthday present you made for your best friend and took hours to made got lost so easily and in return you got something from your soulmate. “Well, we add it to the collection,” your friend sighed. Not everyone was gifted with a soulmate, it was rather special and so your friend was as curious as you who your soulmate was, because it didn’t seem as if she had one.

“There’s a Hogsmead weekend coming, I’m treating you with something nice then.” you offered.

You wondered what your soulmate would do with the necklace. Your collection consisted of one glove, some hair ties (you knew it wasn’t yours as there were red hairs stuck in it), a hastily written list (wormwood, dittany, bubotuber pus, dragon liver – REPLACEMENT?), a shirt which somehow smelled of bonfire and something you hadn’t told your friend: a plush dragon. He wasn’t new when he landed in your possession. His ear was almost falling off and his eye was hold on one last string. You repaired him and since then he slept in your bed.

-x-

A few years had passed since you found the glove and with the war almost knocking on your door you were afraid of two things: what if your soulmate was on the other side or what if he or she didn’t make it? These were things you had no influence on and were still on your mind when more pressing matters lay in front of you.

As a member of Dumbledores Army you were informed that the battle would take place in Hogwarts soon. And you would take place in it, there was no way you wouldn’t fight for the right thing. Your father was a muggle and you wanted your freedom back. You wanted to chose how you would live your life.

You apparated to the Hogs Head at the same time as Cho Chang and met a grumbling Aberforth who told you which way would lead to Hogwarts. Your old DA coin had told you that Harry would be back and you weren’t surprised to see many of the members when you finally walked into the room at the end of the tunnel.

That had been hours ago which felt like a lifetime. Not everyone had survived and you stood in the shambles of your old school that you had called home for seven years. You didn’t know what to do right now, so you sat down on the stairs to the castle and looked out onto the forest. Your mind couldn’t really wrap around everything that had happened so far.

You almost felt like throwing up and you clutched your belly rather painfully. “Are you injured? Do you need help?” you heard someone asking you. You denied, you weren’t deeply injured it was just a little bit too much for you at that moment, but you kept that to yourself.

“I’ll sit down here, if you don’t mind,” you heard the strangers voice again, but you didn’t reply. After a while you turned towards him and took in his features. The first thing you noticed were his freckles that covered his whole face and the second thing was the flaming red hair that reminded you of the one which were covered in the hair ties that had turned up. But the hair on his head was shorter than the ones you found. His hands rested on his tights and looked beaten up.

“Aren’t you that dragon boy? The one that was here at the first task of the Triwizard Tournament?” you asked suddenly.

“Yeah, I’m Charlie Weasley.”

“Weasley?” you asked. Well you shouldn’t be so surprised with that hair. “Your brothers were in my year, Fred and George,” you told him.

“Freds injured, it’s not fatal but everyone is cornering him, so I just needed a little bit of air,” he told you. You asked him, if the rest of his family is okay and he nodded in confirmation.

“I think I need to check in with some of my friends, I’ve been here too long,” you said and stood up, your knees almost buckling beyond your weight. It had been exhausting hours, but you managed to make your way to the great hall. You spotted Neville and Luna and decided to join them. You looked over to the Weasleys who stood around someone who you suspected was Fred. When George looked up and met your gaze you mouthed if he was okay and he nodded before he looked back at his brother.

“Are you okay?” Luna asked you after a while.

“I don’t know. I know we won, but it doesn’t really feel like it, does it? We’ve lost too much,” you admitted your feelings. You felt kind of bad as you were sitting next to Neville who had done something magnificent, but you couldn’t help yourself. You gaze flew to the Weasleys again and you saw Charlie now among them. He had lifted his hand and you could see something on his wrist. You weren’t sure if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but you needed to be sure.

Without a comment you stood up and walked over to the Weasleys. A few of them greeted you when they noticed who came towards them. You asked George how Fred was, but before the twin in front of you could reply Fred answered for him that it needed more than that to finish him. You couldn’t help but smile at your former classmate and replied that it was good to hear that.

You turned towards Charlie and asked him if you could see his bracelet. You didn’t wait for his reaction as you were already busy pulling his hand to your face to examinate the jewellery.

“You don’t happen to have lost a plush dragon around eight years ago, dragon boy?” you asked. You could see him blushing and you were sure that the both of you hold now the attention of the whole family. “Because I made this as a necklace for my friend and it happened to be lost when I wanted to give it to her. Instead I had to buy her many butterbeers and cauldron cakes to make up for it, so I guess you owe me.”

“Charlie has a soulmate?” you heard Ron asking flabbergasted.

“Of all the things that are now in your possession, you must comment on the plushie?” Charlie finally said to you.

“Of course, it is my favourite piece,” you answered with a big smile on your face. “I also want you to know that I’ve taken good care of him and that he just waits to be returned.”

Before anyone could say anything else Charlies mother interrupted that you were more than welcome to come over for dinner. You told her that you first had to make sure to look after your parents but you’d stop buy. When you walked back to your friends you could hear George voice: “You scored her? I just want to tell you that Fred tried to ask her out once.”

-x-

“I’m afraid they think I forced you to something you don’t want,” you admitted again when you stood in front of the burrow. That wasn’t the first time you had that conversation. To be honest you had that conversation for months now and by the time it was even too late to change anything.

“I bet they’re more than happy,” he assured you.

“Well I hope you are happy,” you said and kissed his lips. You walked around the house and into the garden where a big table stood. As there was more and more family and extended family every time it was difficult to get everyone at the table at the same time. You were the last to arrive and while you still stood as the rest of them sat at the table you choose this moment for your announcment.

“We have something to tell you,” Charlie said and got the attention of whole table.

“Are you pregnant?” asked Fred.

“Were you finally able to adopt a dragon?” George asked instead.

“No, we’re moving back.” Charlie announced. This wasn’t what anyone had expected with the exception of Bill, who was helping the two of you. Molly squealed and jumped up to throw her arms around her son.

“But Romania was what you always wanted,” said Ginny astonished.

“Yeah, but sometimes it changes what you want. She wasn’t really happy in Romania. We tried for a year, but even when she didn’t tell me that directly I noticed it. And I can’t be happy when she isn’t. She tried to do it for me, now I try it for her.” He squeezed your hand. “And I noticed that I missed a lot. We’re such a big family, but I sometimes feel like a stranger and I really want to change that. And I also want to be the uncle who is actually there instead of one who writes a letter once in a while. So, we’re both happy that we will be moving back.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay here for a while,” Arthur offered with a smile on his face.

“We might take you on that offer, dad. We found a little house, but it needs a lot of work. Might take a while for us to finish it.” His siblings promised to help the two of you with renovations and you noticed that they were more than happy that to have their brother back in their live.

“We even have a photo of the house, I’ll show you,” you said and reached for the photograph in your jacket. Instead of the paper your fingers grasped something small, metallic. You pulled the thing out and stared at it. “Charlie, do you want to explain why I have a ring in my pocket?”

He looked shocked at you and when he searched his pocket and instead of the ring he bought for you he pulled out a photograph.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie x reader #soulmate au #marvelettesassemble #amwriting #charlie needs more love!#weasley x reader

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years ago

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Stay

A Rock Band!OT7 x Reader drabble

Hello, I know I’ve been gone for a while but work and school have been killing, not to mention the holidays are coming up. Anyway, I listened to the BE album (a soothing masterpiece) and then today after work I took a four hour nap and was struck with inspiration. So here you go a rock band OT7 au. Also the picture above started it all. Hope you enjoy!!

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation and abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

“...And in other news members of rock band BTS find themselves amid controversy after a video is taken of a member after a concert, who many believe to be the group’s oldest Kim Seokjin alias ‘Pretty boy,’ embracing and kissing their manager as other group members watch on…”

When YN awoke the first time she didn’t pay much attention to her state of undress beyond noticing the robe she was wearing didn’t offer much warmth. Whilst her sleep-addled mind searched for a blanket across the bed - Hoseok usually tucked them under the pillows - YN picked up on the loud sound of a K-Drama playing the background. She surmised Jimin must’ve stayed in, while the others went out to drink or eat dinner. Her search yielded no results and she was so exhausted that she simply fell back asleep.

“Long time fans of the band will be able to tell you that the group’s manager YN YLN has been someone of a polarizing figure. While many love and support her for taking care of the boys and managing their busy schedule. Other fans have been quick to point out how close they are bond is and worry that the ex-dance champion may be using the boys to her own advantage...”

The second time she woke up, YN was immediately more aware of her surroundings. The drama was still playing on in the back, though she wasn’t sure it was the same one, as the door muffled most of the voices. On the bedside table, she found a bottle of water and her night bag which let her know that it was pretty late. Still far too lethargic to comprehend doing more than one thing at a time YN chugged the water down, removed her makeup, cleansed her skin, before finally heading to the bathroom. It was once she took off the robe and sat down that YN surmised she had probably fallen asleep in the car and the boys had carried her into the hotel room. Jungkook likely being the one to undress her and bring her the stuff. She could only hope they had taken the back entrance because YN didn’t need more headlines happening especially not now.

It was once she washed her hands, redressing in the robe, and stepped back out that she was able to notice something was off. The television could still be heard, but it was unusual for Jimin to not have checked up on her at least once. He likely thought she was too exhausted and needed her rest. It was true, though the concert had been a success the impromptus of it had left YN with less than twenty-four hours to prepare for a half-hour set at the venue down the street of the latest city they were at. She even had to lend a hand to staff to load up all the devices and props, by the end her back had been killing her so much that Namjoon had given her something for pain relief.

The general haziness felt could likely be attributed to the muscle relaxer she had taken. Suddenly, right before she was about to jump back into bed a thought occurred to her. Oh shit! It’s probably the third already. I have to call mom and confirm the tickets. Immediately a pang of guilt shot through her core as she thought about her last conversation with the boys. It hadn’t gone smoothly - YN never thought it would have - they had been friends for such a long time and though YN had been with them through all the ups and downs of fame, she felt it was time to sort her own path. They had helped put her back on her feet after her accident and had even offered her to be their manager. In the beginning, no one could have expected how big they would become. YN mainly accepted take her mind off her pre-maturely finished career and as a way to repay them for everything. Now five years later, they were at the top of the world and YN had just been offered a teaching position in the most respected dance institute in the country.

Their time had come to an end and though YN had wished for the transition to be smoother and less hurried, she also knew the boys had a tendency to be...possessive. Life hadn’t been fair to them and though fame had given them so much it had also taken things they weren’t prepared to lose. Perhaps the fault lied on YN, she had after all allowed herself to become their safe space. Artists can be a bit obsessive - YN too was near right addicted to her craft at her prime - so she had let the seven men cling on to her so they wouldn’t go looking for that high in other places or things. At the time she hadn’t thought anything of it. As their friend and manager, it was her responsibility to care for them and ensure they could live as normally as was allowed.

It didn’t mean that a fight wouldn’t occur. Didn’t mean that she wouldn’t be accused of betraying them, abandoning them, despising them even if it couldn’t be farther from the truth. They were all reckless as well; harsh, abrasive, and downright machiavellian when they felt cornered. The fight after the show had been an anticipated one, though not a predictable one. They so often switched roles between them: the instigator, mediator, bystander, judge, jury, friend, and foe. Tonight however they constantly switched not allowing YN to even properly explain herself before frustration, exhaustion, and the onset of the medication forced her to call it quits. Not before Seokjin had kissed her though - but that was something she would dwell on when the morning rolled around.

For now, YN focused on scouring the room and searching for her phone, she had it on her in the car so there was no reason for it not to be there. The analog clock that typically displayed the time and date was gone, so YN turned on the television hoping to find a newscasting that displayed the time and date. She scrolled through channels until she saw an image of her flash on the screen, a picture of her from her last showcase.

“Sources had told reporters that YN had been offered a coveted position at Seoul’s Seogsa Dance Academy where she was to begin teaching courses this coming semester. It seems after much deliberation YN has decided to reject the school’s offer. Could her relationship with the band’s oldest and lead guitarist be behind it?”

A barely audible “What?” left YN’s lips. Her mind racing as she tried to process everything she had just heard in the last minute. Relationship? What relationship? I’m not dating Seokjin! Even if I were, I would never reject… YN bolted straight out of bed and to the bedroom door, shaking the doorknob furiously but being unable to open the door. No. They wouldn’t do this. They wouldn’t. “Guys! Guys, open the door. Please open the door.” YN began to pound on the wooden door, begging for an exit. Maybe it was her imagination, but she swore the television on the other side got louder. In an instant, the entirety of the conversation came to the forefront of her mind.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You can’t leave you made a promise!”

“Let’s just hear YN out. I’m sure she has a good reason for keeping this from us.”

“I’m way too worn out for this conversation.”

“Teaching position? Are you even in the state to be able to dance for so long?”

“YN, are you certain you aren’t rushing into this? Is there another reason you’re being so rash?”

“I just think you haven’t thought this out, sweetheart. You can barely handle a few boxes, I don’t think your body can handle dancing for hours on end every single day without harm.”

“We’re your friends YN. We’re just thinking of what’s best for you.”

“Clearly though we don’t matter enough to consider us in this decision. Do you know how much trouble this is going to be? What it’ll look like? You’re feeding us to the sharks and you don’t give a shit.”

YN slid down to her knees, tears streaming down her face as her voice became hoarse after crying for so long. “Please let me out! Please! I’m sorry just let me out!” After hours of imploring, she picked up the small ‘click’ of the lock and heard the creak of the door as it opened to show all seven men staring down at her. Smiles on their face accompanied by dark hooded eyes bridled with sadistic glee.

#yandere bts #ot7 x reader #yandere bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #yandere kim seokjin x reader #yandere kim namjoon x reader #yandere Min Yoongi x reader #yandere jung hoseok x reader #yandere park jimin x reader #yandere kim taehyung x reader #yandere jeon jungkook x reader #rockband bts #stay #stay drabble #bangtanarmynet #girlmeetsliv3

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hiccstrxd · 3 years ago

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Kisses from the moon

Hello! I wanted to write shameless fluff with lots of kisses and this is exactly what it is. I’d like to believe that for a first timer in the kissing department, I did it okay lmao

It's rated t btw. You can find it in ao3 as well. Enjoy!

Summary: She didn’t know how it happened, the only thing she recalls is that they had meant to depart with one chaste kiss on the lips and somehow it had quickly escalated to unknown territory, though for sure not quite an unpleasant one.

It hasn’t been that long since the battle of the Storm Spire and relationships among the neighboring kingdoms couldn’t be any more restrained — the shifting alliances have been slightly worrisome but the newly pledge between the Dragon Queen and the young King of Katolis compensate all the arising uncertainties, if just a little.

Rayla doesn’t know that much about politics but she supposes that last bit gave enough solace to the kingdom. A bright occurrence amidst the cataclysmic disputes and deadly wars.

And since this was now her home away from home, she was very well informed — rather unwillingly — in its state of affairs.

Both Callum and Ezran (and Bait too, apparently) had firmly made her know that if she was one hundred percent sure and at ease with the idea overall, she was more than welcome to stay in Katolis, no matter if it was merely a temporary arrangement. It took quite a lot of arguments and counterarguments from both parties and even further persuasion from the two brothers (and frog) for her to concede to the proposition with an underlying hesitation.

She was fairly certain that her residency in the kingdom — and in the castle no less — will not be as gladly received. She’ll have to withstand many scornful looks and insensitive judgments left and right, her presence won’t do any good there. Plus, she would feel so out of place and a little bit too conscience-stricken for her liking. But then again she didn’t have anywhere else to go, nowhere to call home.

It was all very confusing and frustrating, rightfully so.

Later that night, with the moonlight casting shadows over the two lovers that were basking in the company of one another and with no impending death hanging in the air, a five-fingered hand was tenderly holding her four-fingered one, a warm smile on each of their faces. Lazy strokes were traced on her wrist, going up to her palm and finally detouring to each of her fingers, making careless doodles with the tip of his forefinger. She let out a sigh of contempt.

A murmured ‘I love you’ was softly said to the wind followed by an imaginary heart being drawn on her palm.

She looked over at him. His eyes had softened a great deal and he now sported the gentlest of grins, he redrew the heart for emphasis. Rayla intertwined their fingers together and gave his hand an affectionate squeeze.

She’ll never get tired of hearing it.

“I love you, too.”

And maybe that was the little push that she needed to make up her mind.

That’s how she got here. In Katolis, she meant. Definitely not with her back pressed slightly against the wall and a pair of gentle hands that held onto her with urgency, if just a little shyly.

She didn’t know how it happened, the only thing she recalls is that they had meant to depart with one chaste kiss on the lips and somehow it had quickly escalated to unknown territory, though for sure not quite an unpleasant one.

They were both expected somewhere else, the kiss was just a farewell gesture, something to get them through the day until they could be close with each other again — which was most likely to be late at night or early morning for how tight their schedule was today.

Rayla needs to break it off. They need to get going. She doesn’t.

She felt his hands that were once placed safely on her waist, slowly trail down to rest on her hips with a lose grip. Hers started their journey upwards, tracing his neck with feather-light touches to finally cup each side of his jaw. Their lips moved against one another at a deliberately slow pace, their noses brushing every so often with each gentle pull.

They have kissed before, of course, but nothing like this.

A loving peck on the lips, a quick kiss on the forehead, even a small brush of lips against each knuckle. They had definitely had some kisses that had lasted more than they should have but even those seemed to be cut short. No, this is new.

The gap between them came to be nonexistent, their breaths mingling together in their shared space. She felt warmth blossom in her chest as he pulled her even closer, his thumb slowly drawing small circles on her hip and when she felt him smile against her lips she couldn’t help but let a small smile out too.

Kissing him has always felt quite exhilarating, a rush of feeling that made her heart soar and her mind numb. A tingling sensation that extended from the tip of her fingers up to her very lips, a warmth that consumed her and spread like a wildfire within. Rayla has never kissed anyone before — she hadn’t felt the need to, having little interest in that sort of matter before— but she had seen Runaan and Ethari display little shows of affections every so often, and as a kid, her inherent curiosity had led her to wonder how loving someone felt like.

Ethari had said that it was like holding your whole heart in between your hands, so delicate and precious that the rest of the world blurs and fades away having no point of comparison with its beauty. Runaan, ever the pragmatic, said that it was a matter of sentiment — you feel everything more intensely.

She reckons that both are quite true, to some extent. Though, she might add her own contribution to the mix: it felt like a typhoon of emotions all at once; you feel weak yet strong, confused yet never more certain in your life, vulnerable yet empowered. It’s warm-hearted, a tender gesture. But then again, it’s something that she cannot fully put into words because the concept is so abstract and the action is so blissful that no notion will ever do justice to what she feels.

Soft kisses soon became frenzied presses of lips and their hands seemed to have a mind of their own, moving on their own accord and trying to frantically touch every patch of skin, clinging to the fabric of clothes in an attempt to be closer. His breath faintly tickled the skin beneath her nose, their heartbeats rhythmically pounding against their chests, and the almost inaudible sighs of delight, whenever their lips brushed against each other, was all she could hear in the secluded corner of the castle. Her senses were overflowed with his presence.

She couldn’t help the soft gasp she let out when he gently bit her bottom lip and pulled it in between his own. It was definitely something they haven’t done before and the action's intimacy promptly took her off guard.

And then he was frantically pulling away, eyes wide with horror and with eyebrows that seemed to reach his hairline, his lips the tiniest bit swollen from their whole encounter. His hands were still on her hips but if he was desperately trying to bring her forward before, he was now doing his best to hold her at arm’s length.

He was quite a sight and she would find it in herself to poke fun at his ridiculous countenance if she didn’t think he was on the verge of a mental collapse.

“I-I’m so sorry, that was not— and I just— I got carried away... Not that that excuses it! I — oh Gods,” Callum stumbled over his words, hand clasped over his eyes, and shifting uneasily on both feet. Rayla had trouble deciphering the inarticulate unfinished sentences that were being stuttered past his mouth but his body language could clue her in.

She raised a single eyebrow whilst fighting an amusing smile from breaking out.

With tentative fingers, she reached forward to lace their fingers together with the hand that was covering his face, his momentary flinch didn’t go unnoticed as she did so.

“Hey,” she softly said with a small smile on her face because leave it to him to straight-up freak out during one of the most intoxicating kisses they have shared so far in their relatively new courtship. She gently rubbed her thumb on the side of his hand as a silent way to reassure him that it was all good. He visibly relaxed a tiny bit, though still showing a little apprehension for his actions done in the spur of the moment. “I liked it.” She shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes and she wanted to smack herself for the uncharacteristic demeanor.

She felt a coy smirk tug at the corners of her mouth, “I really liked it.” Rayla relished the way his face went from rueful to downright embarrassed, a deep flush spreading all over his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. She couldn’t stop the heartening laugh this time.

“O-oh?” She heard him mumble. He rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that was not holding hers, and she playfully rolled her eyes at her dorky human prince’s antics.

“In fact, I wouldn’t mind tryin’ it out again.” She said while mindlessly arranging the scarf on his neck that has become rumpled by her own doing. She looked at him solemnly, this being a little unfamiliar to both of them and the uncertainty of how to approach was slowly killing her. With a clear of his throat and his forest green eyes thoroughly searching hers to silently confirm what she had put into words, he shifted forward.

“Well, in that case,” He brought one hand to pull her closer while he raised the other one to caress her cheek lovingly. His eyes stared earnestly at her as if he could find all the wonders in the world by solely looking at her. It was wistful thinking, but she’d rather not dwell into that right now. Not when the only thing that matters was the blitheness from her heart and the prince that was the cause of it all.

He drew her toward him as the space between them once again diminished and with half-closed eyes, slightly pursed lips, and with the erratic thumps of the heart filling the air, they slowly leaned in again.

He nudged his nose against hers and placed a small kiss in the corner of her lips. Callum smiled, he went to do the same on the other side but she’d have none of it. She looped her forearms loosely at the back of his neck and lunged forward — she took delight in the muffled hum of surprise.

Their lips glided lazily but surely against each other, and this time — with the self-consciousness fading away and the overwhelming feelings of adoration rising in its place — the kiss quickly took a passionate turn. Fervent lips searched hers and she returned the gesture in equal measure.

When they came to this corner almost hidden from any prying eyes to share a light kiss, one which swiftly became so much more, Rayla had been concerned they would get caught. They never seemed to get any privacy in the heavily guarded walls of the castle and sneaking around resulted in their last resort, something that both thrilled her and troubled her; there was always a crown guard just around the corner, a handmaid that not so subtly eyed them from afar, or worse, the High Cleric that without fail appeared around inopportune instances.

The number of times she had wished the earth to open up and swallow her whole were unimaginable.

But now, as she now pulled his bottom lip in between her own, that thought was dismayed and stored in the back of her mind because kissing Callum made all of those seem as insignificant worries as every kiss felt like the very first one — she was sure there wasn’t a greater feeling than being in his arms. She could stay here forever.

That was until a nervous cough could be heard behind them, a few paces away from the darkened corner. They jumped apart.

“Prince Callum,” Corvus gave a slight bow, eyes not quite looking directly at the couple, “your presence is required in the throne room.” He cleared his throat, posture uptight as always but shifting from one leg to another rather uneasily.

Oh, sweet primals.

Rayla could already feel the burning sensation on her face and ears and quickly disentangled herself from his embrace in an attempt to put some proper distance between them. He was not expecting her briskly move and promptly stumbled over his own two feet, arms flailing to catch his balance before he fell somewhat unceremoniously on the ground below.

“Corvus, hi! Yeah, I was just on my way. I was just telling Rayla about the... uh,” He trailed off, unsure of what to say that would be credible enough to somehow cover up their real deed. Rayla was sure she was just about to die from embarrassment.

Corvus placed both his arms behind himself and with a deadpan expression affirmed, “I assure you, your highness, I do not need an explanation. It is all good. Nevertheless, let’s not keep the High Council and the King waiting, shall we?” Rayla could have guaranteed the corners of his mouth lifted in the slightest — almost imperceptible — in what she could only assume was amusement. “And Rayla, Soren is waiting in the courtyard for your daily training session.”

With that last bit, she nodded in acknowledgment and went straight to where she was initially supposed to be nearly fifteen minutes ago. And she almost gave Soren the triumph of his life since the only thing on her mind was how much she had enjoyed their little rendezvous and the excitement of its reprise was as annoying as it was enthralling.

#rayllum #my writing #rayllum fanfic #callum #rayla #the dragon prince #tdp #tdp callum #tdp rayla #tdp rayllum #fluff #things get a little carried away but nothing serious #I wanted to write something happy pre ttm #i'm sorry for any grammar mistakes #a hiccstrid fic is in the works too

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Prompt: imagine if Xiao Xingchen could see what Song Lan was seeing after the eye transfer. Like the visual input went to both their brains... Ps! I love your writing!!

Song Lan knew himself to be a fool, and an ungrateful one.

He’d lost his entire family, the entire Baixue temple that had taken him in as an orphan to teach him all he knew, at Xue Yang’s hands – not just Xue Yang, but whoever was behind him, egging him on. His master had conveyed as much as he’d died in his hands: Xue Yang had done the work, yes, but as hired help, looking horribly bored even as he committed atrocities and only looking even mildly interested when he announced the supposed ‘motive’ behind it.

And yet Song Lan hadn’t listened. Beside himself with grief, with pain, with the loss of his temple, the loss of his eyes, he’d lashed out against his best friend, blaming him for the misfortune – if you hadn’t insisted on going after him, on finding justice for the Chang clan, then he wouldn’t have come here, he would have picked someone else, it’s your fault. Harsh words, vicious words, words he shouldn’t have spoken, and especially not to Xiao Xingchen, who didn’t quite understand the way the world worked.

The way emotions worked – how humans could say one thing one day, and believe another the next.

And now, Song Lan was forced to hunt down the real culprit behind the destruction of his Baixue temple alone, all while searching desperately for his friend – wanting to apologize, to beg forgiveness – and all the while Xiao Xingcheng…

Song Lan had to stop along the road to bury his face in his hands, in grief –

Grief, and frustration.

Xiao Xingchen just had to find the least remarkable place in the entire world to settle in, didn’t he?

Song Lan knew he had, because Xiao Xingchen had given him his eyes, and Xiao Xingchen’s eyes were –

It wasn’t that Song Lan didn’t know that Xiao Xingchen had descended from Baoshan Sanren’s celestial mountain, armed with a sword and a horsetail whip and a mission to help people find justice. He’d been lucky enough to be the first person Xiao Xingchen met, after all, and he’d been helping him understand some of the nuances of the common world ever since – often things that most people should have known, but which apparently weren’t that common on celestial mountains.

It was only that Song Lan hadn’t realized that Xiao Xingchen’s differences from the common world were not merely experience, but also – physical.

His eyes, for one.

Apparently, Xiao Xingcheng had two sets of eyelids: one external, the normal ones that everyone saw, and one internal – as far as Song Lan could tell, now that Xiao Xingchen’s eyes were his, it mostly functioned to keep dust out of his eyes or to make it easier to see through mist. His pupils, too, were unusual: they could resize themselves as appropriate to deal with the dark, and now Song Lan understood why Xiao Xingchen never tripped over anything even when they had traveled in the darkest parts of the night.

The most important aspect, though, was the fact that they were still connected.

Now that Xiao Xingchen's eyes were his own, Song Lan could see what was in front of him, yes, but he could also see – somehow – what was in front of Xiao Xingchen, and it should have made it easier to find him, but somehow it didn’t.

It just made the need to find him all the more desperate.

When Song Lan first opened his eyes and saw the translucent form of Xue Yang, smirking up at him, he panicked. Translucent meant that it was Xiao Xingchen who was seeing him, and that meant Xiao Xingchen was in terrible danger. Oh, Xue Yang might be too injured to do anything at first, but Song Lan watched as his wounds slowly healed, the way he started to offer to help with things, the way he –

Those poor people.

And poor Xiao Xingchen, too!

After the first “night-hunt”, Song Lan bought some paper and wrote the words, “Your guest is Xue Yang and he is deceiving you” on it, then settled down in meditation to stare at the words until they felt as though they were imprinted on the back of his eyes, hoping against hope that the eyes would work in reverse, that he could convey the much-needed message to Xiao Xingchen.

It didn’t work.

Or, rather, it did – Xue Yang’s ghostly form, reflecting off of the remains of Xiao Xingchen’s optical nerve even through the thin cloth he used as a bandage, came up to him.

“Daozhang, why are you rubbing your eyes so much?” his lips said, forming the words so precisely that Song Lan could very nearly imagine hearing his voice. “Are you in pain?”

He couldn’t heard Xiao Xingchen’s response, of course, and he couldn’t see it, either, but Xue Yang was a remarkably responsive figure.

“You’re the strongest person I know, Daozhang. If you’re sure you want to ignore it, I know you can.”

That was about when Song Lan had given up, because he, too, knew Xiao Xingcheng too well: his friend was stubborn to the ends of the earth, when he thought it was called for, and he must have known – as Song Lan did not – what were the consequences of giving up his eyes.

He was deliberately ignoring the input from Song Lan’s eyes. Very likely in a misguided attempt to give him privacy.

Song Lan wanted to scream.

It had been about what he deserved, though, for having rejected Xiao Xingchen the way he did: now he had to watch, to be tortured by watching, as Xiao Xingchen was led around by the nose by a vicious and cruel Xue Yang, forced to bloody his hands, all unknowing, all while thinking he was doing good. It was enough to make Song Lan weep, and to fear the day that Xue Yang lost interest in this game – the day when Xue Yang had enough, and the last ghostly image he would see would be the bastard’s sword raised up over Xiao Xingchen’s unwary head…

It didn’t turn out like that, though.

Xue Yang the murderer, the irredeemable – he stopped on his own.

Song Lan knew why, probably before Xue Yang himself did. He recognized the way Xue Yang’s eyes softened when he looked at Xiao Xingchen, the eager way he ran to him, the smile that involuntarily appeared on his face when he did something that pleased him – a happy smile, nothing like the cruel smirks from before.

Song Lan recognized it, because he’d seen the same in himself.

Xue Yang was in love.

How could he not be? Xiao Xingchen was kind, gentle, righteous – he was born to be loved, not tormented. Little by little, he crept even into Xue Yang’s barren heart, and found a way to make his home there, just as they had made their home in the little coffin house that looked the same in every town that Song Lan visited on his desperate quest to find them.

And little by little Xue Yang put down his guard, and started sharing stories…

The one that affected Xiao Xingchen the most was the one about the little boy, with his love for candy – Song Lan knew that, seeing as he did Xiao Xingchen finding candy to leave every day on Xue Yang’s pillow. Probably with a secret little smile, wanting only to make his friend happy.

The ones that affected Song Lan the most, though, were the ones about cultivation. About where Xue Yang had learned it, and how.

Xiao Xingchen had been so pure and good, so upset about the fate of his shijie’s son, that he’d never really picked up the nuances of how demonic cultivation worked or what it did, how it damaged the temperament and corrupted the mind, but Song Lan knew.

Song Lan knew how to do math, too.

Xue Yang would have been little more than that stupid child who’d lost his finger as a result of his love of sweets when his first teacher found him – it might even have been immediately afterwards, when he was wounded and in pain and vulnerable, given some of the comments Xue Yang made about how he’d been stupid to follow the first person who offered him revenge.

That first man had had vile intentions. He’d taught Xue Yang demonic cultivation the way a farmer fed a pig: in order to raise him into a tool for his own cultivation. He hadn’t expected that when Xue Yang was still only eleven, he was already such a delinquent that he’d pick up a knife and murder his own teacher when that teacher tried to hurt him – Xue Yang had never gone into exactly what type of hurt, never even officially confirmed that he’d done the murder, merely that he’d broken paths with his first teacher when the teaching methods were too painful and that the teacher had died shortly thereafter, but who didn’t know about the dark history of the delinquent of Kuizhou?

Song Lan had known about the murder, long suspected by the citizens of Kuizhou but never proven, but he hadn’t known why.

Just as he had known that the Jin sect had recruited Xue Yang shortly after he became famous, but hadn’t known that it was specifically to try to recreate the Yiling Patriarch’s techniques, or that they’d given him as many cultivators as he wished to practice on…

Xiao Xingchen probably thought Xue Yang’s references to test subjects referred to practice dummies, and his references to “breaking” them “too often” as the harmless actions of a child.

Because Xue Yang would have been a child.

A street child, with no mother to raise him; taught by a demonic cultivator with vile intentions; taken in by the Jin sect at eleven, maybe twelve; raised there until fifteen, and required to do all sorts of dirty things for them as the means of keeping his place –

Had anyone ever taught Xue Yang the slightest scrap of morality?

The Baixue temple believed in justice, but it also believed in mercy – in mercy, and in redemption. As soon as Song Lan found Xiao Xingchen again, he would apologize for what he’d done, what he’d said, and he’d ask him to join him once again in a quest to bring justice to the world: to seek justice for his temple, for his teacher, from the person who had wielded the sword that was Xue Yang.

And as for Xue Yang himself…

Maybe there was something there that could be salvaged.

After all, he responded so well to Xiao Xingchen’s kindness – it’d been nearly three years now, and the vast majority of the time had been lived in peace and quiet. Xue Yang didn’t even threaten passerby merchants in the marketplace with knives anymore.

He didn’t practice demonic cultivation anymore, either. Three years without it, and Song Lan could see – through Xiao Xingchen’s eyes – how much cleaner Xue Yang’s qi was: how the meditation Xiao Xingchen coaxed him into trying actually helped bring it into a semblance of order, how he was belatedly forming a golden core the way a regular cultivator would.

Maybe there was still something left of that stupid street child who’d only wanted to taste something sweet after all.

If he ever found them, Song Lan would have to find out.

He sighed to himself, shaking his head at his own foolishness. He could dream about what they could do together – the three of them, and little A-Qing, too, the clever little blind girl that accompanied Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang both – as much as he liked, but first, he had to find them.

Song Lan glanced at the signpost.

Yi City, with the ‘yi’ for coffin home – what a strange name.

#mdzs #song lan #xiao xingchen #xue yang #my fic #my fics #okay this is sort of backwards from your prompt #but it was too late by the time I realized that #Anonymous

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nuka-blackwell · 3 years ago

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A Haunting Past EXTENDED {Tiana/Rora/Marzel/Nuka/Marisa/Ella/Bambi}

The full version including Willa’s capture, Rescue & Bambi’s timely arrival.

+ Memories are stolen and returned. Lives are lost and save.Final goodbyes are given.

Once you get to the battle it’s the same I was just trying to be fancy, so this has everything.

Same TW: Blood, Broken limbs, Death, Wrist Slash (from Sora’s wound when Nuka took the blood) TW are in the para as well.

@truitt-story @aurora-rosewood @cinderellaashbourne

Nuka

Nuka hadn’t considered his little game with Tiana would ever be useful. Of course he intended for it to be fun and had even gained access to her house because of it. But finding out the princess of the forest lived in the house.

Lucky day for him indeed.

Slipping in even while the house was busy wasn’t difficult, he had passed Aurora by her room and quickly compelled her to forget him before he walked into the room with Willa having her quiet down in a moment.

They didn’t want to draw any attention now did they? Yet it was curious that there were bags packed as if Miss Willa and Ella were about to leave town. A shame for them they hadn’t moved a little quicker. But curious indeed.

Not enough for him to worry about it, not when he heard footsteps and he slipped out the window heading to Talon Manor.

One Sacrifice was in hand and the remaining would walk in by themselves later tonight.

Ella

They were pretty much all packed and ready to go. Ella would be a liar if she said she hadn’t been waiting for Aurora and Tiana to tell her that something was happening, after they revealed the truth about themselves. About the knights, and all the rest of it. It seemed like it was building to something, and had she not known about her friends, Ella would never have known about it at all.

Though at least she and Willa would be out of the way for… whatever it was. She had made a deliberate decision not to ask too many questions, both so that she wouldn’t worry too much about the other girls and so that, should anything happen, she could claim deniability.

All that was left to do was to collect Willa. Ella had put her down for a nap, hoping she might sleep through the journey out of town, if only because travelling with a baby was difficult at the best of times but made even worse when that baby was fussy. She crept up the stairs with the practised silence of a mother not wanting to wake her child, and peeked into her bedroom, where Willa’s crib was nestled in the corner. She knew where all the creaky floorboards were, avoiding them as she moved through the room, arriving at the side of the crib with a soft smile.

It fell away when she saw that the crib was empty, though.

“Willa?” Ella took a step back from the cot, dread sinking like a stone in her stomach, making her feel cold all over. Willa wasn’t one to climb out and run around, she never had been… “Willa?” Ella called again, louder this time, panic creeping into her tone. Last time she had found Willa gone she had been halfway through the woods, taken by the trolls--

“Tiana! Aurora!” Ella cried, skittering to the top of the stairs. “She’s gone! Willa, she’s-- she’s gone!”

Tiana

Tiana had barely slept that night, but somehow, in the early hours of the morning, she had managed to drift off. Which meant that she had a harder time getting up than usual. She trusted Ella to take care of the things she needed to get done in the early morning, so she took her time getting out of bed and getting ready. She was just finishing up the sandwich she had made Ella for the road when she heard Ella’s voice. What was that? Gone? Who—

When Tiana saw Ella’s face, though, she understood. A feeling of horror and dread settled in Tiana’s stomach. It was just what they had feared. Willa was gone. They hadn’t moved fast enough.

“Are you— are you sure?” Tiana stammered, though she knew there was no use. Of course Ella wouldn’t have missed her somehow. She looked to Aurora. “I mean— right. We’re going to find her, we have to— did anyone see anything last night?” Her head was spinning, but she had a feeling about who this could be.

Aurora

Aurora was dazed, much like when she woke up from a sudden fainting spell, she was curled on her bed, dressed and ready for the day but it took a few moments to remember why she was ready and why Ella was screaming.

When she had though, she jolted out of her room running to Tiana and Ella the dread and heavy weight settling in. They had been too late, they had tried to protect Ella and Willa and they failed. Maybe whoever took her was close, Aurora could do what she did in Elfhame, extend her magic into the earth and see how far she could reach.

“If they are close I can- I can tell-” Aurora stated running back out of the room Lolly close on her heels barking madly at the commotion and the panic. Trying to tell them something no one could understand.

Getting to the backyard wasn’t any help though, whoever it was, was long gone and although Aurora had a feeling of who it was, or at least what family she had no proof.

“It has to be them right? The Blackwell’s.” Aurora stated meeting back up with the girls. “And we’re going to get her back.”

Ella

It took Ella a moment to stumble down the stairs after Aurora; her eyes were fixed on the crib, the empty cot, the room that she had turned upside down when she had looked for Willa. She was just willing her to crawl out from under the bed, or behind the curtain, or something. Or anything. Anything other than the reality she was now faced with.

Was she such a terrible mother? To have her daughter so easily snatched from her not once, but twice? After the first time she had never left Willa alone, she had watched her round the clock, slept with her right by the side of the bed. But time had gone on, and nothing else had happened, and Ella had let her guard down. Things had seemed so normal, but she never should have begun to settle, she could see that now.

“The Blackwells?” She asked, fumbling the words, her throat dry and her mouth feeling like it was full of chalk. “What-- what about the Blackwells?”

TIANA

Tiana couldn’t bear to look Ella in the eyes. She had failed her. After all the training, all the preparation… even though Tiana had thought living with two Knights would protect Willa, Tiana couldn’t help but wonder if it made her even more of a target. The horrible feeling of guilt in Tiana’s stomach grew.

“Remember when we told you about that… Knights of the Round Table thing?” Tiana started, looking to Aurora for confirmation. “There was a little more to the story. We didn’t get into it because it was still sort of developing, and if anything were to happen, we didn’t want to put you in more danger, having that knowledge. But I think you need to know, now.”

Tiana took a deep breath. “There’s a plot to take over Swynlake. By these people. The Blackwells. It has to do with undoing the charter. And there’s a spell that requires… certain items. And certain people. It’s, er, why I had a weather vane stashed in my room for a little bit, for example. I’m wondering if— it’s possible that Willa was a target.”

The implication dawned on Tiana: that meant Willa’s life could be in danger. “But we’re going to get her back,” she added quickly, glancing at Aurora again.

Aurora

“We never knew who they wanted just they wanted people.” Aurora supplied with a grimace. “We wanted you to get out of town before anything. I’m so sorry.” This was their fault. They should have moved faster, quicker. Done more. Done so much more.

“I don’t care what we have to do to get her back. We will. I promise.” Aurora stated without a second thought, perhaps she considered herself a pacifist, but taking someone she loved meant that she was going to do what she needed to get Willa home. To make this little family whole again.

“I know you weren’t planning to go but are you coming with us? A rescue mission of our own?”

Ella

She didn’t blame her housemates for a second. Even if there was more to the story than what they were telling her, it still wasn’t their fault. Ella knew that they would’ve done absolutely everything in their power to protect her daughter if they had known, and now she trusted them to do everything they could to get her back.

But like hell was Ella letting them go without her.

“Of course I am,” She said after a moment, once she had collected herself just a little more. She had to be strong, for Willa. She had to keep herself together until she found her again. “I’m not going anywhere without her. Not without my baby.”

TIANA

Tiana couldn’t imagine what this was like for Ella. She didn’t have any children. But she knew that her own mother would have done just about anything to keep her safe. So of course they had to get Willa back, and unharmed. She and Aurora had promised Ella that much. And beyond the promise, Tiana couldn’t imagine the house without Willa. She had developed a deep tenderness for Ella’s daughter over the past year, and now Tiana would do what had to be done to save her.

There wasn’t another option. Tiana wasn’t going to think about the alternative.

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Tiana said decisively. “If the Blackwells took her, then our best shot at finding her is going to the ball. We’ll search the place, top to bottom. And we won’t leave without her.” She took Ella’s hand. “We’re getting her back, Ella. I promise.”

~TIMESKIP~

NUKA

Nuka watched everyone fall, as he held the unconscious Willa in his arms, her mother was here as expected and so were Tiana and Aurora, what he hadn’t accounted for or expected was both of them to jump into action. He had wanted Tiana to cower in fear like she did every time. He wanted to see Aurora falter the way she had last time.

But it was fine, it didn't matter too much to him. Nuka had all the time in the world for the game. Right now all he needed was a bit of Willa’s blood and with a prick of her finger, Nuka collected it. Abandoning her on a nearby table.

Don’t worry little Willa, or the girls trying to rescue her. He would be back for her. He still had a game to finish.

ELLA

So much was happening, and it would be so easy to be distracted, but Ella only had one thing on her mind. She was looking for her daughter - she didn’t even care about the person who had taken her, she only wanted Willa. She just wanted to find her daughter safe and sound, and get her somewhere else - somewhere safe and secure, where they could lie low for a while. She wasn’t thinking too far ahead, admittedly. Her focus was just getting Willa, and keeping her safe.

Ella looked across the room, her gaze moving quickly, like she was pulled towards it, and she saw her: her little baby girl, being set down almost gently, as if the pair of hands holding her actually cared. Ella didn’t even bother to look at whoever it was had set her down, though she was sure Tiana and Aurora would-- she was already pushing her way across the carnage, all but throwing herself towards the table to grab up little Willa where she lay.

“Willa, sweetheart, my poor baby--” Ella shifted her in her arms, brought her close, pressed her ear to her chest until she could assure herself of the beating of her little heart. It was hummingbird fast, but it was there, it was strong. Ella ignored the tears in her eyes and held her daughter close, shielding her with one arm. “She’s alright,” She said, turning back to her housemates. “She’s alright, I think.”

TIANA

Tiana was surprised that Nuka left Willa without much of a fight. She had been readying herself for a battle, to do anything she had to do to get Willa back in Ella’s arms safely. It almost made Tiana a little nervous. Because Nuka clearly had more up his sleeve.

But Tiana couldn’t think about that right now. First, she had to make sure Ella and Willa got to safety. As Ella picked up her daughter, Tiana watched Nuka disappear into another part of the ballroom. She stayed there for a moment, her sword raised, until she could be quite sure Nuka was not coming back. He seemed otherwise occupied. For a moment, Tiana wondered if she should go after him, but she had to make her first priority Ella and Willa. If the Knights needed her, she would go help them as soon as she knew her housemates were safe. She turned back to the others. “Is she okay?” Tiana said, rushing over to Ella. “I think— we can try and find someone to check her out, make sure she isn’t hurt?”

OLLIE (TW: Blood, Arm Gash)

His next choice was a human, one he had seen quite a bit at the hospital lately, working with kids. How kind and caring. Not really.

Grabbing Ollie’s right arm he cut horizontally deep enough that it was quite a bit of blood and exactly how Nuka liked it. Really Nuka should have punctured each of the flowers on his chest but he was being nice and time was more important. He could play with his food later.

Aurora

Aurora followed quickly her hands on her taslisms, ready to make sure she protected the girls. She had failed once already but she wasn’t going to fail again. All of the Blackwell’s were running around quickly and suddenly she wondered why she never figured it out before.

Vampires.

They needed to stay on guard. And ready for anything.

Surrounding Ella, Aurora made sure Tiana and herself were the first line of defense as everyone else jumped into battles, Marzel was with his sister. There were so many people unconscious. “We need to figure out if she took the same thing as them or she’s just unconscious.”

ELLA

They could’ve all been vampires, every single one of them, and it wouldn’t have stopped Ella. She had hunkered down by the table where she had scooped Willa up, clutching her close to her chest; it was the first time she really stopped to look around and even then, it wasn’t to wonder what was going on. It was only to try and find the best way to get them out of the carnage and somewhere safe.

“I think she’s ok,” Ella said, glancing up briefly at Aurora and Tiana before she looked at her daughter again. She couldn’t be sure, of course she couldn’t, but--

Willa wriggled a little in her arms, and then blinked big, blue eyes up at her mother. Ella felt lighter almost immediately, like she could finally breathe again. “There you are,” She said, a smile in her voice, tears in her eyes. She looked up at Tiana and Aurora again, giving a nod. “She’s awake - we have to get her out of here. We can go to the forest, maybe. Bambi should be able to look after us both.”

SORA (TW: Blood, Wrist Slash, Broken Ribs)

Nuka ran over to the next target glancing up only briefly at his Mother and Arthur as they began to tumble. He’d help her soon, not that she needed it, Arthur was unmatched in both brilliance and brawn. He had no chance.

But Nuka felt that tick of annoyance building up. How dare any of them think they could face them. How dare they try to oppose them.

|| Grabbing the boy's wrist Nuka made a slash || drawing the blood needed and even though his wrist dripped blood it wasn’t enough for Nuka. Dropping the boy roughly he kicked him in the ribs forcing him back into a wall feeling just slightly better at the small act of violence.

TIANA

Tiana let out a sigh of relief for the first time that night. Willa was okay. That was what mattered. And Bambi would help, of course he would. Tiana tried to avoid turning serious, urgent moments into sentimental ones, but she couldn’t help it. She pulled Ella and Willa into a hug.

“Be careful. Stay there until we give you the all clear,” Tiana instructed. “I’ve got a feeling this night is only going to get scarier.” She glanced at Aurora. “Should we all walk there together?”

Aurora

Aurora nodded, they needed to get Ella to safety. First and foremost that was the most important thing. But there were so many screams of terror around them. People were going down. And then the most terrifying sob was heard and Aurora twisted her head to Marzel and his sister.

“I’ll back both of you up. Ella go!” There just wasn’t enough time for anything and that was the point. Strike when they were all down at least they hadn’t poisoned a child at the very least.

ELLA

It was surprisingly easy to find her feet. Ella would’ve gone alone, if Aurora and Tiana had needed to stay here to help, but she was glad that she didn’t have to. When Aurora told her to go she was up and running, following Tiana through the crowds of people. She kept Willa’s face tucked in against her chest, shielding her from as much of it as she could until they were out, and hopefully, safe.

“Thank you,” She said, once she could hear herself think. “For finding her. And for helping us both,” She looked between her housemates, smiling softly. “I suppose your night isn’t over just yet, but… we should be safe, until we have the all clear.”

TONY (TW: Broken Arm, Blood)

Salt - They had trapped his Mother with salt. These people were prepared for it and it pissed Nuka off. He needed to move quicker. As that anger ticked higher and higher, the only thing stopping him from jumping in and killing the knights was the fact his Mother needed him to collect the blood.

One more to go after this. Grabbing Tony’s arm roughly he heard the bone crack before he even drew the blood, but Nuka’s eyes were wild as he slowly stopped caring.

Not that he did before but he dug into Tony’s skin to draw his blood before running off to his next target.

TIANA

Tiana whipped her head around at the sound and froze for a moment, but then she remembered what she was doing. She had to get Ella and Willa out. She could help Marzel once she knew they were safe.

“Right. No time to lose,” Tiana agreed, motioning for Ella to follow her to the door. It was a good thing Talon Hall was so close to the lake, and to the forest. Hopefully the animals would have alerted Bambi.

BAMBI:

The forest was in a tizzy. It had not been unaffected by the strange smoke that billowed through the town. Of course, the animals were left alone, and himself, but those few humans and humanoids that resided within its borders were overtaken.

Something was very wrong.

In an instant, the edges of the forest shored up, becoming denser. Old paths grew over and entrances to the forest became indistinguishable from the rest of the treeline. Bambi was not taking any chances with whatever this was.

Only the birds and the smallest of critters could manage to make their way through.

That was how he found out that Ella and Willa were headed to the forest. He cut a path, following the birds, to where the would be and with a clench of his fists, a hole opened in the trees just as the trio stopped.

“Ella,” Bambi said, flicking his eyes towards the other two with her. He assessed them for a moment before looking back at Ella and his sister. “What’s happened?”

Aurora

Aurora made sure to cover the girls as they ran, the smoke was blinding and they didn’t have much time. They were going to have to move fast, be back to help the others but Willa and Ella were their family too and they needed to protect her.

Standing in front of the Great Prince was something though, even if he seemed like a kid.

“There’s a group of Vampires trying to destroy the town?” Aurora mused with a slight shrug. “It has to do with the Charter and we don’t know the repercussions of it. But it’s not going to be good. If you can protect Ella and Willa, Tiana and I would be grateful and we can go help the town.” Aurora offered a little more sincerely looking at each of her housemates. They would be fine after this, they had to be.

ELLA

“They took her,” She blurted, shifting Willa in her arms. Ella didn’t know what exactly her daughter could hear, but she supposed it must be the forest. As soon as they had gotten close she had perked up a little, looking surprisingly no worse for wear, and now that she was within arms reach of her brother Willa twisted in her mother’s arms, reaching out a chubby little hand for him.

Ella wasn’t so delighted, though. She knew Bambi would understand how she felt - he had been there the first time, too. “For whatever it was they did. I think she’s fine,” she added, looking at Bambi. “But I don’t… I don’t think I’ll feel safe at home.”

BAMBI:

Bambi’s eyes narrowed, pinched, at the sorceress. Humans were so troublesome.

Except, of course, Ella and Willa.

He stepped closer, though he did not leave the comfort of the trees. Reaching out, he touched his sister’s hand with his own, as if reassuring himself that she was alright. His heart clenched in his chest to think something might’ve happened to her. If it was up to him, he would keep her here in the forest. Where she would be safe.

It was not up to him.

At least she appeared unharmed.

“Of course, Ella. You know you are welcome here, any time. The trees are open for you.” He grabbed Ella by the bicep gently and pulled her closer, toward the trees. He looked over his shoulder at the women.

“If there are any other children and their caretakers that need protection, tell them to come to the forest edge and say that they are a friend to the trees and creatures here. Children only.” And with that, he flicked his wrists and the trees and foliage closed around them again, plunging the forest into darkness.

TIANA

Tiana had never ventured very far into the forest. Under other circumstances, she wasn’t sure she trusted this. But Ella trusted Bambi, so Tiana did, too. She made a note to tell people to bring children to the forest, if they had to.

“Thank y-“ Tiana started, but the forest had already closed itself again. She turned to Aurora. “Alright, we’ve got to get back inside. I think I saw Nuka trying to hurt Marzel, I—“ Tiana couldn’t speculate. She would only make herself crazy. “I’ve got to go help him, before it’s too late.”

NUKA

Nuka’s last target already had a knight over her body, his sword drawn to protect her. Did all of his games have to have knights attached to them? It was annoying. Dull. Boring. Blood needed to be drawn first before they really fought.

Maybe she was a distraction and he would be useless.

Either way he still had to get through him. Rushing Marzel, Nuka grabbed the sword in his palm so even though it sliced him he disarmed Marzel grabbing him around the throat so he couldn’t speak.

“We did our research. We know your kind. Don’t think your voice is going to save you here.” Nuka mocked holding tighter and tighter until Marzel couldn’t breath. The sword tossed to the side, Nuka reached over with his bloody hand though it healed and snapped Marzel’s wrist as Marzel kicked out with the power only a merman’s tail could have (Well with legs) pushing Nuka away and dropping Marzel again in front of his sister.

Coughing out Marzel leaned low. He didn’t have his human weapon but he would fight to the death to protect his sister.

Nuka didn’t have the time, Arthur was fighting his Mother and she needed the charter broken now.

Rushing ahead Nuka didn’t attempt to play nice anymore, slamming Marzel into the wall and letting him fall limply to the ground.

Marisa was next. And Nuka was pissed off. Grabbing the girl’s throat he squeezed watching her even unconscious struggle for a breath before he sliced down her arm, watching the blood fall like a waterfall. More than enough to shatter that charter. And with this he had done what he needed to do.

Weren’t you proud of him, Mother?

Looking up at his Mother to see how she was doing, that elation dropped and Nuka snarled, she was bleeding.

What had he done, what had Arthur done! She wasn’t healing!

Nuka needed to get to her, to protect her. And as he worried about his mother his grip tightened on Marisa’s neck, cracks heard but not cared about. It was this distraction that allowed Marzel his opening. Slicing his sword through Nuka forcing him to drop Marisa, Marzel rushed to catch her and stop her head from cracking on the ground.

Grabbing his sister Marzel checked her pulse, watching her head lull to the side. At first he couldn’t even find it and when he did it just grew weaker, fainter. Her name could heal- maybe- hopefully. He just needed to stop the bleeding as it pooled around them.

Marzel scrambled to rip off pieces of his jacket trying to stop the bleeding. Begging his sister to live. They were supposed to go back to the ocean, they were supposed to lead their pod. He was going to follow her to the ends of the earth.

He had only been here to protect her.

The sobs ripped out of his throat as he tried to save her as he begged for help, covered in her blood.

“Marisa, please. Please. I’m sorry I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry. Please just wake up. I’ll do better next time please. I won’t fail again. Please. I’m sorry Valentino I promised you I’d protect my family and I failed again. Please please. Just give me this chance.” Marzel begged again and again as his sister’s head lulled to the side.

Those words couldn’t be the last. Those words couldn’t be the last ones he heard from her.

This couldn’t be the end, it couldn’t.

“Wake up please. Wake up.”

Aurora

Well that worked? Even if it was a bit rude. All that mattered was that Ella and Willa were safe. And any kids that needed protection as well.

Nodding at Tiana they both rushed inside, where Nuka was ready to go after Marzel again and he was clutching at his sister sobbing.

TIANA

Tiana had remained in the shadows, trying not to let Nuka see her. She just needed to protect Willa and Ella. That was top priority. And she trusted Marzel to handle this on his own. After all, the sparring attempts with Belle had proven that Tiana was not the best fighter. But she was small and quick, and she believed she would be best suited to hanging back.

But when she saw what Nuka did to Marisa, Tiana had to clasp a hand over her mouth to hold back a scream. It was just so brutal, so cruel. And so surreal. Once, Tiana had considered Nuka and Marisa her friends. Marisa was her best waitress, and Nuka was one of her best customers. And now, he had-- no. He couldn’t have. Marisa had to be…

Nuka fell and Marzel caught Marisa, and the sound of his voice was enough to confirm to Tiana what had happened. Tiana staggered backward, her hand still over her mouth, tears falling without Tiana even really noticing, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of her as she struggled to catch her breath but it caught in her throat. No. No. No.

She couldn’t stand there any longer. She had to do something. Tiana rushed over to Marzel, one hand on his shoulder, the other reaching for Marisa’s hand. It was all over. The realization was crushing and horrible, but Tiana knew it was a million times worse for Marzel. He needed to get out of here before he got hurt-- or worse. He was in pain. He wasn’t going to be thinking straight. Tiana knew loss well, and she didn’t know if she would still be here if she were in a battle situation when she had found out what had happened to her father.

“Marzel,” she said in a low voice, a little wobbly but determined. “Take Marisa and go. Someone can help her. There… there has to be something. But I’ll take on Nuka. You need to get out of here.”

MARZEL/AURORA/NUKA

They had gotten Willa back and for the most part that was all Aurora cared about, at least until she could tell how many people were getting injured during this. It was bloody, it was terrible and Aurora couldn’t stop it. Directing Lolly to stay at Ella and Willa’s side Aurora watched the terror appear on Tiana’s face and her rush down to Marzel and Marisa.

She didn’t know them well not more than within the knights for Marzel but the pain of losing a sibling was insurmountable. Aurora already knew that. His regents were painful to look at.

But Nuka was already standing and Marzel wasn’t moving, as he continued to sob into Marisa’s chest, her heart a slow beat.

Marzel couldn’t even feel the pain of his broken wrist. Not when it felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest. Did he have anything to live for if he had failed his duty.

Tiana’s words barely registered to him. He did need to get Marisa out of here, he needed to get her help. Gathering her body in his arms ready to run Nuka stood up and Aurora moved to grab her talismans keeping Willa and Ella behind her.

“Too late.” Nuka called out. “One, Two, Three, Falter. One Two Falter.” He called out in regards to Marisa’s heart. “She’s lost too much blood. Even a mermaid like you can’t survive that.” Nuka grinned a side glance thrown to Zira and Arthur. She would be fine. Nuka had a game to play and it seemed his favourite player had thought she won.

“Can you really take me on Tiana. Of course you don’t remember all the times you already tried but it never goes well.”

TIANA

Wait— a mermaid?

Confusion flickered across her face as she looked at Marzel and Marisa, as though trying to figure out whether that could be true just by looking at them. No, not the time, Tiana thought. She’d try and figure that one out later. Right now, there were lives at stake. And she wouldn’t put it past Nuka to say something just with the purpose of confusing her.

She drew her sword, praying that her practice wouldn’t fail her now. Oddly enough, Tiana thought of Belle. Irritating, maybe a little bit, but self-assured and competent. She needed to channel a little bit of that energy. Maybe that twisted ankle wouldn’t be for nothing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re outnumbered, Blackwell. We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Tiana said in a voice that was not really her own. She wished she could muster the strength of Gareth— but Gareth was scared, too. Tiana was just going to have to lean on her team. “Either say your piece and surrender, or you’re going to lose this fight.”

MARZEL/AURORA/NUKA

Nuka scoffed at Tiana’s ill placed confidence. He could say his piece but it would be more fun for her to relive it. Meeting her eyes Nuka compelled her to remember before meeting Aurora’s and doing the same.

Anger flooded through Aurora as she remembered and it was only one instance to remember. Reaching out Aurora threw the seeds forward quickly turning the house into a battlefield she could control vines wrapping around him and when he ripped them and moved away Aurora tried again and again. Not letting up. She didn’t know how Tiana would react and she needed to cover her.

And Marzel who had sunk to the ground knowing his sister wasn’t making it out of here, not alive. He tucked her hair behind her ear and softly sang to her as if he could take away any of the pain she might be feeling. Marzel had failed but he would get revenge for her, even if he died doing so.

Slowly Marisa’s heart stopped and Marzel whispered his goodbyes forcing himself to stand. His voice was still horse from what Nuka had done earlier but it wouldn’t matter. His wrist was broken but it didn’t matter not as he drew his sword again.

He was going to kill this bastard.

TIANA

There was so much happening at once. Too much. Time seemed to go in slow motion, the vines creeping over the floor and Marzel falling to the ground and the memories coming back to her, one after the other. Each one started out familiar: Nuka, joking and flirting with her at the bar. Nuka, walking home with her after work. And then the unfamiliar part: Nuka, sinking his teeth into her neck. It was almost like Tiana was back there again, in that alley, and she felt the terror seize her in a way that was so real, so palpable, that she never wanted to feel that way again.

Tiana was proud and stubborn. She didn’t let anyone control her destiny but her. And yet the memories proved that someone had, over and over again managed to terrify and control her, then wipe it from her memory. That was what angered Tiana most. Not the blood drawn from her, not even the betrayal of someone she had once considered a friend. It was the fact that Nuka had managed to make her feel so weak and pathetic, so out of control of her own life.

As she grasped the full extent of what had happened, Tiana started to become aware of her surroundings again, and she heard Marzel’s song, low and mournful, an unfamiliar language. Maybe he was a merman… but that was not the point right now, Tiana reminded herself.

Nuka had taken away the one thing Tiana clung most tightly to: her dignity. And, worse, he had killed a woman in cold blood, an innocent woman, someone who used to help Tiana when the restaurant got crazy and who made Tiana want to be a better boss. And clearly someone who Marzel loved very dearly. Tiana had never seen Marzel like this before. She had always thought he was cold, guarded, closed-off. Marisa brought out something different in him. And now, she was gone.

This time, Tiana didn’t even need to pretend. She was angry, numb to the pain, ready to do whatever it took to make Nuka feel as pathetic as he had made Tiana feel. “You are despicable,” Tiana spat, raising her sword higher. She glanced at Marzel, who was drawing his sword, and she could see something dangerous in his eyes. Under other circumstances, Tiana might have told him to go, that he wasn’t in his right mind, that he shouldn’t do something he might regret. But Tiana had no mercy left. Not after the horrors she had just seen Nuka commit. “Rot in hell.”

She exchanged a look with Marzel and then charged forward, her sword raised.

MARZEL/AURORA/NUKA

Marzel truly had no emotion on his face, the anger seeped just below the surface bubbling, his rage was palpable. He was empty, his purpose in life was to protect his future Queen and he had failed. Just like he failed to protect his late fiance, just like he failed to protect his home.

There was nothing quite like the rage of a siren scorned. And this time it was toward a vampire and thankfully not a human.

Nuka didn’t notice nor care about this journey on Marzel’s face, but Aurora did. She watched the waves of anger roll off of him and she never knew an instance she had seen a reagent that dark and suffocating. It was only matched when Nuka glanced up and watched his mother fall to the ground and his rage surrounded him.

Suddenly the vines he had been able to dodge along with Tiana and Marzel’s sword weren’t what he was focused on.

Nuka screamed about killing him while he battled the two knights but as soon as Aurora could surround him she grabbed him tightly with all the vines even as her head swung.

“I can’t hold onto him much longer!” Aurora yelled out.

TIANA

This was probably some of Tiana’s best work when it came to fighting, which wasn’t saying much, considering her inexperience and her ankle injury, but it was saying something. She managed to hold Nuka off, anyway, even if the few hits she managed to get in barely seemed to faze him. The vines helped. But Tiana didn’t want Aurora to use all of her energy.

“Aurora, it’s okay! We’ve got it! Save your energy!” Tiana called over her shoulder. She wasn’t so sure about that, but if Aurora fell unconscious, it would be another person down. And another person the Blackwells could try to use for their scheme— although, as Zira fell in the distance, Tiana gained more hope that the Knights might actually be able to stop them.

No time to think about that, though. She kept trying to pin Nuka against the wall, but he was too fast, too strong. At the very least, though, the vines kept him from escaping.

It occurred to Tiana, as she and Marzel surrounded Nuka, that if he slipped up even slightly, they could beat him. And then— what were they going to do? Turn him in to the Sheriff? Make him beg for mercy? Kill him? Tiana had never in her life wanted to kill someone before. She wasn’t sure she did now, even. But there was a determined glint in Marzel’s eye. And after seeing what Nuka had done to Marisa… Tiana made a decision.

If Marzel tried to kill Nuka, Tiana wasn’t going to stop him.

She slashed at Nuka, slowing him down, and shot Marzel a meaningful glance. One that said, Do it.

MARZEL/AURORA/NUKA

Marzel didn’t know what was up with Aurora and Tiana, why she couldn’t hold her magic. But he did know he didn’t need her to hold him. Even now as he struggled against the vines, hissing and ripping them apart.

Aurora stumbled even with the call of Tiana. She needed to conserve her energy and even without Lolly she knew she was using too much of her magic. With Willa and Ella behind her they couldn’t take a chance.

But there was a moment that Nuka stopped fighting, a calm surrounding him and Aurora watched Marzel’s lips moving singing him into a stupor. Slowing him down enough and reaching out for Tiana. The last blow would be his.

This wasn’t the first time that Marzel had killed someone and it wasn’t going to be the last, there was no hesitation nor was there any regret. Not for Nuka of all people. Marzel wished he could make it more painful.

That’s why at the last second he stopped his song, waited until the recognition flooded his face and then Marzel sliced through his neck his head falling off his body and he stabbed his sword through his body.

“How do we make sure he’s dead?” Marzel questioned. Glancing back at the girls.”

“Fire?” Aurora supplied weakly, all her resolve to do anything to protect Willa and Ella, Tiana now that she had jumped into a fight escaped her as she her vines got coated in blood. She had participated in that.

TIANA

It all happened so fast. And Tiana thought she had prepared herself, but how did you prepare for a murder happening right in front of you? Even if it was one you had aided in, of a person you despised more than anyone else…

A wave of nausea came over Tiana. But she had to focus. Nuka was a vampire, which meant it would be difficult to tell whether he was dead for good-- Tiana tried to remember what she knew about killing vampires. Not very much. Maybe she should have studied this more… but it was too late at this point.

“Sure. Yes. Fire,” Tiana said, trying to get her bearings. One thing at a time. Having a next step to focus on helped. Zooming out too much and thinking about how insane all of this was did not. She realized she was shaking all over. Tiana took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. “B-but I don’t want anyone else getting hurt… maybe we ought to go outside? Or we could find a Magick who could do it…”

In the distance, other fighting continued, but Tiana tried to block it out, Otherwise, she was going to completely lose it. One thing at a time.

MARZEL

“I’ll just burn his head. He can’t survive that.” Marzel stated simply. Perhaps he would feed his body to a shark or something. Of course that would be hard to do but Marzel didn’t care. Nuka deserved to die in the most painful way possible.

Gaining a lighter from somewhere Marzel arranged Aurora’s vines in a way to burn them and eventually Nuka’s head. It was Simba’s voice that brough Marzel’s attention away and he glanced to Arthur.

“I’ll finish up here. Go to Arthur.” Marzel would be right behind, his eyes trailing to his sister’s dead body and focusing back on disposing on Nuka.

TIANA

Tiana didn’t have to be told twice. She wanted to get away from this scene as quickly as possible. The image of Nuka killing Marisa would haunt her forever, she knew, and the less time she spent here around all this death, the better. But there was one more thing to do.

Tiana glanced at Aurora to make sure she was still conscious (she looked a little ill, but still okay) and then turned her gaze to Marisa. Her coworker. Her friend, even, lately. Tiana burned with regret that she hadn’t gotten to know her better. But all she had was this moment.

“Just… one second,” Tiana said, and knelt down beside Marisa’s body. If only she had gotten here sooner— if only she had been strong or fast or brave enough to take Nuka down before he had the chance to harm Marisa. She couldn’t change the past, but she could at least do her best now to say goodbye. She took off her tuxedo jacket and laid it on Marisa like a blanket, like she could be sleeping, covering the massive gash on her arm and the bruising on her throat.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears again. It was so uncharacteristic of Tiana, to be emotional and sentimental like this. But everything felt wrong. Everything felt off. This was the only thing that felt right. She imagined this was the kind of thing her mother would do if an innocent person was killed, and that was the thought that she clung to. Compassion and kindness and gentleness. Things Tiana didn’t always think she was capable of. So she channeled Eudora.

She pressed a gentle kiss to Marisa’s forehead and then stood up, rolling up the sleeves of her dress shirt. “Alright. Let’s go find Arthur.”

MARZEL

Nuka’s head burned and there was no relief from the pain. The anger and grief, he had killed and nothing felt better. Of course Marzel knew it wouldn’t solve anything, he killed and killed and none of the lives of his pod had been returned. This would never heal Marzel, nothing ever could.

He was a broken man before his sister died and he was nothing of one now that she had.

Marzel barely appreciated Tiana’s sentiment, he couldn’t. He just didn’t have it in him.

Stumbling to his sister Marzel ran his fingers over her hair before picking her up and setting her away from the fray. She wouldn’t be hurt anymore tonight. And this night wasn’t close to being finished, even as Aurora and Tiana moved to speak to Arthur, Marzel knew it wasn’t over, the night was just beginning.

Eventually Marzel stood, placing a kiss on Marisa’s hair. “I’ll be back soon. You would want me to protect the people here wouldn’t you? To love and appreciate humans. I may never to the extent that you did. But I will protect them for you. That I promise.” Marzel stated softly before moving to join the other knights around their king.

#truitt story #Aurora Rosewood #cinderellaashbourne #//thank you emma and bee for doing this quickly with me and clem for the pop in bambi apperance

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jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years ago

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Hazy Horizons (Part Four)

Summary: In the wake of their lives being turned upside down and losing their son, Andy and Laurie Barber move to Maine, in search of starting over and starting a new family, by any means necessary

Features/Warnings: Dark!Fic; Dubcon/Noncon; Drugging; Manipulation; Smut; Breeding Kink; mentions of Lacatation Kink; Pregnancy Kink; Gaslighting

Series Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon; Manipulation; Breeding Kink; Drugging; Gaslighting

Pairing: Dark!Andy Barber/Reader/Dark!Laurie Barber

Notes: A visit to the doctor’s office and a moment alone with Laurie find you questioning everything.

Shorter part this time, but it felt like a good place to end this chapter. Please heed the new warning because the Barbers are upping their manipulation game this part. This is more of a Laurie focused chapter.

Please bear in mind that this is/will be a dark fic. You’re responsible for the content you choose to read.

Word Count: 2097

You didn’t even look at Laurie when you got into the car. It had been just over a week since you found out. A week since you saw everything crash down around you. You didn’t know it was possible for them to become worse, more possessive, more overbearing. Laurie was making you lunch to bring to work daily. It was nothing new, but what she gave you was. Healthier, removing anything that might be harmful to the baby.

She’d watch you take the prenatal vitamins in the morning. You hadn’t even been to the doctor yet. No, that was coming that afternoon. Andy was taking off early to be there. Laurie had taken you to have blood drawn earlier in the week. Today would be confirmation of what you already knew.

“Andy’s meeting us there. He’s already waiting. He’s so excited. We both are,” Laurie said. You didn’t respond. You watched as the snow fell outside the car window. You saw a young woman and her boyfriend, throwing snowballs at each other. Your heart ached at the sight. Would you ever get to experience that kind of love again? The early days of being carefree, of just enjoying being with one another.

It didn’t take long to arrive at Dr. Schroder’s office. Laurie pulled in next to where Andy was parked. You had barely unbuckled your seatbelt when Andy opened your door, leaving no room for you to argue as he offered you his arm as he helped you out of the car. He made it hard to hate him, when you knew that’s the only way you should feel toward him, toward both of them.

The three of you made your way into the office. You had a Barber on either side of you. Laurie went to check you in as Andy guided you to a chair. You were jittery. You hoped that somehow the test you’d taken at home was wrong. You were called back sooner than you thought, the first thing the nurse had you do was give a urine sample. Even with the blood test, you knew they wanted to have multiple avenues of confirmation.

When you came back into the room, you sat back up on the table after changing into the gown provided. You hid behind the little curtain, refusing to let them see you after they refused to leave the room to let you change. Coming out from behind the curtain, you sat up on the table, waiting for the return of the nurse.

“Hello Barber family, I’m Angie and I’ll be your nurse today,” the peppy redhead said, shifting her focus to you. You caught a glimpse of the name on the paper and tried not to let your shock show. Your first name was there, but your last name most certainly was not. Your paperwork had already been on file with Dr. Schroder’s office from when you moved to town. You looked over at Andy and Laurie. Did they have your name legally changed? You remembered signing the deed papers the previous week. How you thought they’d sneak a marriage license in if it was legal. Could they have slipped in papers to orchestrate a legal name change? You felt your heart rate quicken at the thought.

“Before I check your vitals, I have a few questions,” Angie said. You answered them almost robotically. Any family history of high blood pressure? Heart disease? Any surgeries? Have you ever been pregnant?

“And last few questions. Have you ever been diagnosed with depression or anxiety?” she asked. You were quiet for a moment.

“She’s been having panic attacks recently. Not frequently, though,” Laurie said.

“I was diagnosed with anxiety a few years ago. I have medication, but I only take it as needed,” you said, looking anywhere but at anyone in the room. You zoned out a little bit as the nurse spoke. You heard what she said but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your movements were almost robotic when she had you lay back. You wished you were anywhere but in that room. Angie left the room shortly after.

“You’re doing so well baby,” Andy said, taking your hand in his, rubbing circles on the back of it. You hated that you liked it. You hated everything about this situation.

Dr. Schroder entered the room, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was older, probably in her early fifties. You’d been to see her once before. She gave you a warm smile and offered her congratulations.

The exam was straight forward, if a little uncomfortable. Your bloodwork showed you were healthy. She called the ultrasound technician into the room, the final part of the appointment.

“Now, because it’s so early, we’ll be doing a transvaginal ultrasound. It might feel a bit uncomfortable, but you’ll get to see the baby for the first time,” Dr. Schroder explained.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to feel emotionally. But as the image appeared on screen, you couldn’t help the emotions you felt, the tears stinging at your eyes. For the first time, you weren’t entirely sure they were out of frustration or sadness.

“And here’s the heartbeat,” the technician said as you heard the steady thud of the baby’s heart.

“It looks like you’re about eight weeks on the nose. An early fall baby,” Dr. Schroder explained as she pointed to the screen.

You didn’t speak after getting dressed and leaving the office. Laurie had made your next appointment. You could practically feel the giddiness radiating off both Barbers. You kept a small smile on your face, playing the role they expected you to. But you weren’t so sure you were playing anymore as you looked down, your hand over your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, wouldn’t for weeks yet. But knowing there was something there, it pulled at you.

In another life, you’d be wanting to shout from the rooftops, alongside someone you loved. But you were starting to resign yourself to the idea that that was not what you were going to get to have. Not now. Not ever.

The drive home was quiet, with only the sound of the radio and Laurie humming along to whatever song was playing. You went to change into pajamas as soon as you were in the door, Laurie close behind you.

“Why don’t I get the bathtub set for you? You can take a nice relaxing bath and unwind a bit,” Laurie said, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around you. You nodded, not wanting to fight. Like it or not, it had been a long day between work and your appointment. You were tired and the morning sickness that had started to set in hadn’t helped matters.

You finished undressing, throwing your clothing in the hamper, before heading into the bathroom. It was one of the few things you had come to enjoy since the madness began. The bathtub in the remodeled bathroom was huge. You didn’t resist as Laurie helped you in, joining you in the bath. You allowed her to wash you, running a washcloth along your arms, up to your shoulders and down your back in slow, deliberate movements.

It wasn’t long before she was finished with it, choosing then to begin to massage your shoulders gently, placing light kisses here and there. You tensed for moment when you felt her lips against your skin.

“Relax,” Laurie murmured. Her hands moved to cup your breasts as she pulled you close to her chest.

“These are going to start growing. We’re hoping mine will too. We’re a family now,” she whispered as she massaged each breast, before focusing her attention on your nipples. They were sore but you couldn’t help the jolt of pleasure you felt. One of her hands drifted down until it was between your legs. You mentally berated yourself as your legs spread wider, without you even thinking about it. They had worn you down, that much was evident.

“That’s it sweetheart, let me take care of you,” Laurie said as her fingers began to gently move around your sensitive clit. This was intimate. It was intense in a way you couldn’t describe, almost like you were at a point of no return. You gasped as she increased her pace, before a soft moan escaped.

“That’s it. It’s so much easier when you accept it, honey. So much easier when you know your place, isn’t that right?” she asked. When you didn’t answer she began to pull away. You surprised yourself with the whine that left your mouth.

“Answer me,” she commanded, as her fingers trailed around where you needed them most.

“Yes,” you said, desperate for the contact. She maneuvered you to pull you into a demanding kiss.

“Now let’s try again, hm?” she asked, bringing her fingers back up to your clit. Her pace was faster, and you let out a high pitched moan.

“You know your place is here, don’t you sweetheart?” she asked. You nodded.

“Y-yes, oh! Yes, Laurie,” you cried out. You felt her smirk from where her lips pressed against your skin. There was one line you never crossed. You never said their names during sex. Ever.

“Good girl,” she said after a moment. You moaned as she increased the pressure. You were close.

“Please, please can I cum? Laurie,” you whined.

“Oh, you’re asking so nicely. Good girls get rewarded. Go ahead sweetheart. Cum for me,” Laurie said. It didn’t take much for her to push you over the edge.

By the time you were getting out of the tub, the water had cooled. Laurie wrapped a fluffy towel around you, before wrapped one around herself. You were still relaxed from her actions, but shame was bubbling up. How easily you had given in, how easily you had lost sight of what she was. You were losing yourself in your thoughts as the high from the pleasure she brought wore off. You were trapped. That much was obvious. It might not have seemed so from the outside looking in, but you knew better.

A gilded cage was still a cage. You never attempted escape. How could you with how well connected they were, even as the newest residents in town? Who would believe you when you weren’t kept locked in a room? They afforded you freedoms for your cooperation. Manipulated the situation into one where any attempts from you would make you look like the crazy one. You willingly gave into them more and more. How could it be anything but consensual? You felt the tears begin to fall as the reality truly set in. And what about the name change? Had it been legal or did they somehow get it changed with your doctor?

“Honey? What’s wrong? Talk to me,” Laurie said, coming to sit beside you on the bed. When had you sat down? You knew one wrong step would have her angry, would mean punishment. But they were never cruel. No. You could handle it then.

“My name...my name at the doctor’s office. They called the Barbers back. My name wasn’t right on the paper,” you said, choosing to go that route instead, trying to gather information.

“We wanted to tell you tonight, over dinner. Andy’s picking it up now. Your name change went through. It’s the closest thing we can have to making our family official,” she said. You felt the blood drain from your face. Your fear was confirmed.

“My...my name change?” you asked.

“We talked about this sweetheart. You signed the papers, don’t you remember? We talked about this when we combined the deeds to the house,” she explained. You knew there had been no discussion.

“No...no we didn’t,” you said. She looked at you with concern.

“We did. We celebrated this new beginning. You know, it’s probably brain fog. It happens with pregnancy. It’s okay if you forgot, honey. We’ll still celebrate tonight. We won’t tell Andy you forgot about this,” she said, as she straddled your lap. You were confused. You were starting to question if the events happened like she said. You knew you wouldn’t have been celebrating, but had they told you about it? Had you forced yourself to forget?

“We should get dressed. Andy will be back soon and we still need to set the table,” she said, pulling you up. You both dressed in more comfortable clothing, you opted for sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Heading downstairs, you felt more lost than you had since it all began.

#defending jacob fic #andy barber #laurie barber #andy barber fic #dark!andy barber #andy barber/reader/laurie barber #dark!fic #dark!laurie barber #dark!defending jacob #andy barber/reader #laurie barber/reader #andy barber x reader x laurie barber #dark fic

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myownwutheringheights · 5 years ago

Text

Like Daylight

{Malcolm x Reader} Word Count: 3967

AN: First Prodigal Son Fic! May continue, for now it’s a one shot. Let me know if you’d want more to this story! Reader insert, but reader is not present, just mentioned/discussed, etc.

Warnings: R rating. Reader is pregnant. Mentions of unprotected sex, sex in general. Mentions of choking. Mentions of Malcolm’s trauma/past/mental health. Mentions of reader having unknown mental health issues.

*****************************************************************************************

The bulletproof door shut behind Malcolm and the echo of it lasted longer than usual in his mind. The evidence folder in his hand contained only one photo, yet the pieces of paper felt like a dead weight in his protective grasp. Besides, the items didn’t match up. The evidence folder had just been the first thing on hand at the police department.

Come to think of it, it was pretty twisted, having this image in an evidence folder. He wanted the pieces of paper separated now, the picture moved away from the association with the crude colored folder, but he couldn’t just yet.

He had something to share with Dr. Martin Whitly.

Malcolm pocketed his hands, clenching the stress ball in his jacket pocket that (y/n) had given him, and he tried to hide the long slow exhale from his lips as his bright blue eyes settled on the face of his smiling father. It had been months since his last visit. And Martin would be the last to find out; everyone else already knew. He’d sung like a canary over a drink with Gil one evening soon after (y/n) had told him the news. He’d had to tell someone and try to find a way to sort through every feeling bubbling inside him. A therapist would have been a better idea to help him sort through it all, but it had felt better over a conversation with Gil over whisky. When the first few weeks of uncertainty and danger had past, he told the team. They’d certainly reacted better than he’d expected. Some of it was fake enthusiasm, and easy to spot by a profiler, but it came not from a place of malice but a place of concern; he knew they worried about how he would handle the change. And with his track record, well, he couldn’t exactly blame them. Ainsley was next, and then, the dreaded telling his mother. She’d reacted as poorly as he’d expected at first; convinced he couldn’t handle it, that it was irresponsible and selfish. But after a good long talk with (y/n), and realizing she could go shopping, do some decorating as a result, spend a lot of money, and something new to focus her attention on? A distraction and a new place to center her affections? Her tune changed soon after. They had her love and support. And some of her money, which never hurt.

Only Martin was in the dark all these months later. And he had no right to know. None. But (y/n) had been supportive in whatever his decision would be, and had even offered to go with him. He looked back in regret at the anger he’d flung at her for even suggesting it, knowing she meant well. But he never wanted (y/n) to meet his father. He hadn’t been to see Martin in a long time, but now with each passing week and each passing doctors appointment, the night terrors had come back, and for (y/n)’s safety due to the fits, she was sleeping in another bed. Perhaps telling Martin would somehow help him take the necessary steps to begin this new and strange and terrifying journey; start off on an equal and balanced playing field, where all the players knew what was happening. A new blank slate, and no secrets. Maybe he’d be able to sleep next to her again without fearing he’d hurt her by accident in the throws of a night terror.

But this was a part of his life that Martin Whitly would never touch. Malcolm would see to that; and yet there was a tremor that wouldn’t stop, and he hoped maybe telling him would help put an end to it. So here we was, like Dante descending back into hell.

Dr. Whitly broke the silence. He turned in his chair to face his son, his mouth opening in joyous shock. “Malcolm my boy! This is a surprise! It’s been so long! How have you been? I know you’re not covering a murder…” he said gesturing to the TV, with the news muted. Malcolm held out a hand to silence him.

“I’m not here for that. There’s something I have to tell you, then I’m gone.” The father’s eyes narrowed and he stood slowly, the slight sound of metal on metal from the handcuffs in the wake of the movement.

“Malcolm? Are you alright?” The Surgeon was no fool. He knew very well how his son felt about him. If he was here on his own omission with something he had to share, it had to be serious. But if anyone had heard the words and not know Martin Whitley, or what he had done, they would have assumed he was truly the perfect and concerned father.

“I’m fine,” Malcolm said a little too quickly. Martin’s head tilted to the side, slow and deliberate, and he was clearly fighting back a smile. Malcolm thought about leaving. He didn’t have to tell him. But the long and short of it was that he still wanted to tell his father. Most sons got to share this news with their fathers. Was it so wrong for him to want that moment too? Part of him had to tell him.

“Is it that girl you’re seeing? How’s that going with the night terrors? She down with the restraints? Is she into that sort of thing?” Martin said waggling his eyebrows suggestively, and Malcolm held his breath to keep from lunging at the man. Between Malcolm’s visits, and Jessica, he knew too much. Malcolm closed his eyes for just a moment, gave a shake of his head. His hands flexed in his pockets.

“We’re working on all of it, no thanks to you.” He opened his mouth to continue, but Martin cut him off.

“What do you mean “you’re working on it,” what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we worked on it.” His voice firm and the matter final. Martin lifted his eyebrows and continued in his nearly cartoonish voice.

“Gracious she must be something special, I should love to meet her,” And that smile curled as his eyes narrowed just enough to let the glee and the madness all shine through. It was the face that had been shown on the news, the face that would make everyone confirm on sight that he was a killer.

“You’re never going to meet her!” He couldn’t hold back the anger any more, it was pulsing in him like a drug. But the picture in the folder in his hand was a firm reminder, and he took a long, deep breath. “I never should have told you she existed, but she does and…”

“And it’d been quite a while, I’m very impressed considering well….everything. Does your mother like her?” Malcolm looked to the books of the small library and back, his patience lingering on the smallest thread.

“Doesn’t matter, none of that is why I’m here.” What could he have told him? If this was a normal conversation between a normal father and a normal son? Yes Jessica adored her. And so did Ainsley. And so did pretty much everyone else in his life. They said she was an angel or a saint, sent to save him. He would scoff and roll his eyes and make some witty remark whenever these sentiments were expressed. (Y/n) hated those sentiments too. But the reality of it was that (y/n) truly had helped him. He was far from saved, a long way from healed. “People don’t save people, Malcolm. That’s movie garbage,” she’d said. Chronic conditions don’t heal. Night terrors don’t just go away. PTSD doesn’t just vanish because of a pretty smile from a lovely girl who for some reason loved him. Chronic depression and anxiety couldn’t be wished away because someone special came into his life. But he’d lie if he said he wasn’t coping better with her. She had been a soothing balm, and in watching (y/n) dress her own wounds, (everyone had their own wounds), he’d learned to care for his own. It was the best form of mimicry. He found helping her when she needed it turned his mind from his own past, and brought him to the present to want to help her. If she was crying, the only thing he cared about was stopping those tears. It was a partnership in baggage that people prayed for. And it was baggage both were somehow able to manage and carry together. Because when he did have night terrors, she was near by to wake him up. When he had tremors she would hold his hand. And she hadn’t left when he’d panicked, and when he continued to panic about the changes that were coming down the line…just a few weeks left…

Don’t think about that right now.

What else could he have said? It was all the things he’d told Gil, and his mother. Even Ainsley.

That her body wash smelled like (your favorite scent) and somehow it always seemed to put him in a better mood. Scent was strongly tied to memory, and now that scent always made him smile a little. That she’d thrown her weighted blanket at him and told him to get it together on more than one occasion. That she actually asked him questions about his past and searched for the good memories for him to share and bring out. That she really liked being outside and dragged him back into nature to get away from the city. That she’d hauled him out of the area to take an actual vacation. Because she loved vacations, and traveling and getting away and damn it she would bring him along, because everyone needs a break from work and to get out of their own head now and then. The fact she was a person he just connected to in a way that people did when they found something and someone special in their life. (Y/n) was all of that to him. And somehow, best of all, she said he was all that for her too. He didn’t fully understand how or why. Some questions, he had learned, were better left unanswered.

“Malcolm?” His father’s voice didn’t even penetrate his mind. His eyes were cast slightly off to the side lost in his thoughts.

What else wouldn’t he share? What was silent and just theirs?

That he and (y/n) had both caught each other crying in the shower on more than one occasion over the course of their relationship. That they’d faced pretty much every possible one of their fears together, and while it was a cliché to say he believed it had made them stronger, it was the truth. That they’d stay up late on the couch drinking tea or coffee to figure things out, no matter what the issue on hand had been. That (y/n) had understood and worked with him getting over his fear of touch. That her body was perfect to him the way it was and he wouldn’t change a thing. Not a single freckle or scar or hair. That the first time she cried out his name while they were making love, it had made his eyes snap open and made him realize he couldn’t go without her or this. That being inside her was an addiction, that her soft cries and her legs around his waist, trembling on the verge was more intoxicating than any of the rare bottles on his mother’s wine rack. That one time he’d choked her in the heat of oncoming pleasure, on one of his particularly bad days, but he’d stopped himself before it had gone too far, and she’d thoroughly yelled at him after. That Malcolm had promised not to do it again, and he’d kept that promise. That she had forgiven him and he would be forever grateful for it. That he struggled when she wasn’t in the mood and he was fully aware he needed better coping mechanisms. That he was terrified of the oncoming dry spell, but he was determined to make it through. That the feel of her fingers in his hair was soothing and erotic to him at the same time. That she’d told him she wanted kids even with their joint collection of high-class, high-end luxury baggage. That having (y/n) beg him to come inside her was truly music to his ears, and the feeling of it unparalleled to any other experiences of his life...

That when (y/n) had told him the news, he’d bought every book possible to try to become an expert in an uncertain and terrifying field. That he stayed up late when he couldn’t sleep to read those books…

“Malcolm!” His dads voice cut through the images in his head. Malcolm’s eyes refocused on the task at hand. The reason he was here. “What is going on?” Martin took another step, and his restraints kept him from taking any more towards his son. He almost looked truly concerned.

“(Y/n) is pregnant.” Malcolm spoke each word with slow and clear perfection, making sure there would be no doubt or question in the words spoken. He composed himself, never originally imagining he’d say those words in this room, in this place. He clenched his hands again, gulped, and let the silence settle as he waited and braced for the reaction. Martin let out one, then two short barking laughs, before his face fell into an insane beaming smile, and he clapped his hands as best he could. Malcolm’s face settled to a hard line, eyes focused and jaw clenched tight, trying to not give his father anything to read.

“That’s fantastic news my boy! I don’t even know what I should say! So many possible reactions! But which one to go for? I’d give you a hug and tell you well done but…well, nevermind! The handcuffs make that tricky. Do I cry tears of joy? I’m not sure! I’m sure your mother is reeling over being old enough to be a grandmother! But which reaction? I mean, a new life in the world! That’s exciting business! The family line continues! Should I question your ability to parent considering…”

“That my own dad is a serial killer?” Malcolm’s voice was dry, the words dripping with sarcasm. Who was he to question his potential parenting skills?

“Yes, that. Should I be upset? Get all preachy, “you know condoms are cheap” kinda talk? Use protection! Ah, you’re not kids so what’s the point. I’m sure you can take care of yourselves. What does she do for work anyway? Eh, doesn’t matter. Oh! What about “you’re not even married!” But I suppose that’s antiquated, who’s married these days…”

“Actually we are,” he said casually, arrogance settling in his eyes. It was the first time in a painfully long amount of time he’d been able to leave the Surgeon speechless and surprised. Malcolm’s mouth formed a little smug smile of pride at the achievement. “Courthouse thing, nothing crazy. Mainly for the benefits, healthcare plans, stuff like that. Boring. We didn’t see the point of anything else. Everyone was there….except you…” Martin’s mouth twitched in agitation. Was Malcolm intentionally trying to anger the man? Yes, yes he was, but he shut down the voice in his head telling him to keep going. Oh the things he wanted to say.

Because of you, I can’t sleep beside her, right now when she needs me the most because I could hurt her or the baby…I’m terrified I use sex with her too much as a coping mechanism…I love her more than anything and I’m terrified of hurting her because of you…and I’m petrified of when we can’t be intimate when she’s healing after…and that’s the most selfish thought in the world and I hate myself for it… I’m terrified I’ll throw myself into work to deal with the changes…Because of you, I’m terrified of what will be passed on to this kid…Because of you I’m petrified what sort of dad I’ll be…I’m scared of hurting my own child…You robbed yourself of being a grandfather, and robbed this child of a grandfather and have left it with a legacy that cannot be explained without nightmare!

Yes, the things he wanted to say….

But he never would. It was all silent thoughts that stayed locked in his mind and kept him up at night. It was things he wanted to say to (y/n) but was terrified what she’d say, even though they’d been there for each other in every way up to now.

No. It gave Martin too much power over him, over them. And Malcolm had promised himself he would not let him have any power over his child.

So he bit his tongue till he tasted blood and let the man carry on in his charismatic ramblings.

“I’m sure I’m the last to know about this too? Yes, of course, rightfully so, I supposed I deserve that. And that jab about a wedding, I will admit that hurt just a little. I could have sent a gift! That’s a lie I couldn’t have done that. But at least a note, that would have been nice to send. But another Whitly is exciting! Another daughter.” Malcolm’s heart rate spiked and the rage that fueled him was a fire he had to put out to maintain control. Always fighting for control.. To Malcolm, she wasn’t a Whitly. (Y/n) would never be a Whitley. She was a Bright.

Martin maintained his smile, pushing every button he could “But I do appreciate you telling me, truly I do.” Malcolm remained silent, letting the man get it all out of his system. The sooner he did, the sooner he could leave. “Well then, since I’m the last to know, has enough time passed to know the big answer…a boy? A girl?” Malcolm debated, closing his eyes and seeing the last sonogram in his mind’s eye, where the nurses had written “Hi, daddy,” on it and for a while he’d been unable to look at it. More so the words than the actual blurry image. He had been horrified imagining holding that title.

But now whenever he felt unnatural terror settling over him, that image of blurry lines and those words had been on the inside of his eyelids and they had a new healing power.

Blurry lines attached to a heartbeat that he listened to almost every night through a stethoscope. A heartbeat that made up something sweet and precious…and unbroken.

Blurry lines attached to the photo in the evidence folder in his hands. Another deep breath…

“A girl.” Malcolm finally said, firming his stance. He would give him the gender, and nothing more. Never her name, which had been decided on, which even now filled every crevice of his mind and heart. To Malcolm, her name was sacred and something he’d never let his father know. Martin smiled ever so slightly at the small look of pride his son was trying to conceal from him. The boy may be frightened of fatherhood, frightened of his past and who he was. And oh he aught to be! But there was pride in Malcolm already for his child. It left Martin smiling brighter.

“Ahhh a girl! How wonderful. Of course you must be thrilled. A girl must be a source of relief!” Malcolm held his ground and stared right back at his father, like two alphas fighting for control. And he would not be afraid. “Oh a boy could look like me, look like you! Then oh, the legacy continues! What a horrible thing it would be for you, to watch my face, or your face, grow up in your care…But a girl! A girl is just different enough to seem to break the cycle doesn’t it? It may even help you in your parenting! You wouldn’t look at her and see my face. She’ll hopefully look like (y/n). That’s what you’re hoping for, isn’t it? What a joy for you, dear boy…” His smile was the stuff of nightmares, his words made to push his son to the brink of mental collapse, to push him into crisis and into his grasp. To anger him, to frighten him, to damage him, and keep him coming back, trapping him in his thrall. If Malcolm was damaged, he’d keep coming back. And it’s all he wanted. He wanted him to come back, and he wanted to meet his granddaughter. “Who knows, you might need my help! Maybe you’ll be just like me…or maybe she will be…”

Malcolm’s ears were ringing and he wanted to shut out his father’s voice.

Run,

his body said.

Run.

But if he ran now, the nightmares would continue. For just a moment, he remembered what his father had said once,

“Love didn’t drive me to kill anyone. No, it drove me to have you.”

No, it drove me to have you.

If he ever did tell his daughter about Martin Whitley, he’d tell her that sentence, he decided. Because if it was the truth, then it was the same reason he had her. For now, Malcolm just shook his head. And he pictured (y/n)’s smile, and he pictured her hand holding her swollen belly, and he wanted nothing more than to be by her side. The task was almost done. And he could, at least try, to never step foot into this room again. “It is a joy for me, Dr. Whitley,” finally opened the evidence file, and took out the image of the sonogram. “Hopefully she will look like (y/n). And I’ll be a good father not because of you, but because I know she’ll be a wonderful mother…”

He traced his fingers over the image one last time.

Love drove me to have you.

He had copies at home; on the fridge, in the bathroom, with his mom, with his sister, by his pills, by their bed, by his memo pad telling him to go to therapy, by Gil’s desk to look at, and one course, one in his wallet. He could separate himself from this one.

As a parting gift. The last gift a prodigal son could give his father. He knocked on the door to be let out by the guards and the buzzer sounded like an alarm in Martin’s ears. He was losing his son to someone else.

“Wait….no, no…Malcolm don’t leave…” But he hurried to the desk to see the sonogram as the door was opened. Martin held the image in his hands. “Malcolm, you can’t leave me…” His voice was shaking, so were his hands as he grasped the only image, he believed he would ever have, of his granddaughter. And he longed to see her, to meet her. Maybe he could say something, do something, send something. He’d meet her. He’d meet (y/n). He had to.

“Goodbye, Dr. Whitly,” Malcolm made sure his wife’s face was the image he saw in front of him, and it gave him the courage to step out that door. He thought of her name, and of their daughter’s and it kept his feet moving.

“You’ll come back my boy, you’ll need me! We’re the same you and I! She’ll be the same! She’ll be the same!” Martin yelled as the son walked away and down the secure hall, the door closing with what felt like a crashing bang in both their heads. For Martin it was an echoing crash that would fester and never stop until the door was opened again. For Malcolm it faded away to a name as he walked down the steps of the psychiatric facility and stepped into the daylight. The name he’d picked. And he thought of (y/n), and that name again and again as he walked home.

Lily. Lily Bright.

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anxiouslyfred · 4 years ago

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Avoiding the Gathering

For @dukexietyweek‘s prompt ‘games’ I decided Virgil and Remus are cousins now,

Summary: Virgil is trying to avoid a family gathering by staying in his room. He gets interrupted by he only other teenage cousin he has.

Warnings: none that I can think of, please let me know if I should include something

“You know everyone else is playing hide and seek?” Virgil had been in his room since his relatives started to arrive. He didn’t want to have a family get together and had hoped that he’d be allowed to hide through it all.

“You mean the kids have been told to entertain themselves while the adults complain about how difficult it is to entertain children for long drives?” He corrected, barely glancing away from the screen. He didn’t want to lose the level again and Remus’s voice was distinctive enough he didn’t need confirmation that it was his eldest cousin who’d come up.

He had to turn when the controller was taken from his hands, growling but not trying to grapple it back since the level hadn’t been lost in the action. “Actually just meant to warn you a few of those kids are either going to try hiding in here or think someone is hiding in here and try to search it.”

“You sure that isn’t what you’re doing? Saying you’ll play, convince the adults you’ll be supervision for them all then ask if I’m able to lock or otherwise barricade my room against any mini invaders?” They had both done that before if the gathering was at either of their homes, but over the last year Remus had actually been doing things to try and cause more chaos than simply leaving the 10 year olds and younger cousins unsupervised.

As the only 2 teenage cousins Virgil and Remus were apparently old enough to play adult supervision but not old enough to be allowed a later bedtime or get their choice of activities for a day out. Instead they took every chance they could to lock themselves away or escape the areas the family was to find their own enjoyment. Hopefully this way they’d at least get some more independance rather than constantly being told that because they’re older they should be willing to let the youngers ones choose what they play.

“Roman came with his powder paints and 5 super blasters. I suggested hide and seek where you’re only found if you’re blasted with paint. Unless you want this room redecorated in orange and red you might want to lock your door.” Remus stated happily.

Mentally Virgil had to remind himself that yelling and cursing Remus out would only get them found sooner and both of them into trouble. Instead he hissed the curses, deliberately loud enough to be heard. With Roman and Logan among the other cousins gathered today that meant he’d need more than just the lock on his door and to be quiet about moving it so the chest of drawers would have to do.

Dumping a drawer on the mattress hard enough to make Remus bounce and wonder what on earth was happening was just a bit of vindictive revenge.

“Dude if you needed help moving the furniture you should have just asked me to pause the game!” The protest was amusing given both of them knew that wouldn’t have happened, only highlighted by the fact it took 4 drawers being dumped and 5 minutes more for the protect to come.

“Well now you’ve passed the level you can save it and help me put the drawers away again.” Virgil snarked, breathing heavily after carrying the frame of the chest of drawers across the room.

“You’re giving me permission to look through your underwear drawer? Oooh, what kinks am I going to find in here?”

“None given that’s where Uncle Jay told me to hide it. Either he’s conspiring with my dads so they know where to look for things I want to hide or he wants to try and find my secrets out if he’s here when I’m not.” Virgil deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the curiousity.

The bouncing and rapid glances around every corner of the room was enough to remind him that was a stupid thing to say to Remus. “Okay then, where else would a spider hide his secrets? Carved out corners of the room, atop the wardrobe? as deeply under the bed as he can reach? Sewn into the cushions? the locked drawers of his desk? behind the computer game collection?”

“Why would I tell you where to find my secrets?” Virgil had to ask, scrunching his face up to show just how crazy an idea that sounded like.

“Cause getting one over on my uncles is fun and this is my new favvourite game. You keep playing your game and I’ll do this now. My own version of hide and seek.” Remus insisted, already attempting to crawl under the bed that wouldn’t fit an arm underneath it.

“If you get eaten by my bed then I’m abandoning you and out the window in an instant.” Virgil promised.

Even if there was now chaos happening around him it was company that he’d grown up used to. No secrets would go further than them given just how much trouble it could land them both in.

#platonicdukexietyweek2020 #platonic dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #computer games #hide and seek

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sparrowwritings · 4 years ago

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Final Fantasy Writing Challenge Day Twenty-Four: Clocks

Day Twenty-Three -- Masterpost -- Day Twenty-Five

Two members of the Convocation of Fourteen sat at the same bench located outside of the governing hall. Each had similar strained expressions as they looked over the identical gaudy invitations in their hands. They also both had the fronts of their robes, their gloves, and their red masks caked in a tiny, shimmering substance.

"How much effort do you think Hythlodaeus put into making these?" Artemis-as-Azem asked. Since the other members of the Convocation had taken their leave, her act of pretending to be her twin had been relaxed for the moment. Insofar as looking actively annoyed was her way of doing so.

"Knowing him, the maximum amount to make this awful thing look the worst. If only to further embarrass us when we received it." Emet-Selch drawled. He shook the card and more shining fragments of that substance Hythlodaeus had created fell to the ground. He had been “inspired” by the incident that destroyed the Hall of Glass. Not too long later a concept known as "glitter" had been created. And used for occasional pranks by the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect against his friends. Much to their dismay, he had released the concept to the public, and so everyone in the Convocation already knew what glitter was when Azem and Emet-Selch had opened their cards and the substance had exploded all over them.

"Remind me again why we should bother replying?" She asked while looking over the deliberately juvenile handwriting. It was an invitation to join Hythlodaeus in attending a lecture headed by the leading expert in Time manipulation. That he had sent in lieu of asking in person because the answer would have been a firm no from both Artemis and Hades.

One would think that a glitter-bomb laden card would have confirmed the disinterest of both parties. That person would also assume that Azem and Emet-Selch were reasonable people with even more reasonable friends. They would be wrong.

"That he put so much effort into this means he's required to attend and desperate enough for company that he ensured we would at least address the card." Hades sighed and ran a hand down his mask. Some of the glitter dislodged itself and fluttered in the air around him. "At the very least we need to see him in person for the technique to get rid of this damnable stuff."

"And give him time to beg us to go." Artemis dusted at a sleeve in a vain attempt to dislodge more sparkles. "I never attended any classes involving time. Is Kronos really that dreadful?"

"From what I've heard, he's an unpleasant individual and delights in his unpleasantness."

"So there are two of you in the city."

Hades sniffed. "My unpleasantness is limited to the few people I bother to be around. His is a public spectacle."

She put a hand to her chest dramatically. "I'm touched you would grace us with the true extent of your personality."

"Your sarcasm is much appreciated." A quiet silence fell over the two of them. Eventually, he was the one that spoke again. "So you're going?"

"Ugh," Artemis slouched in her seat. "I'm going to have to. With Hythlodaeus miserable and Apollo trying to keep up his spirits, someone else has to be there to make sure he doesn’t take negative criticism so personally. I’ve heard that Kronos lectures are entertaining, at least.”

"You're attending the Time manipulation lecture?"

Both of the seated folk froze, only relaxing when they realized who the speaker was. Elidibus gave a kind smile, as if the two were speaking of normal things and hadn't accidentally revealed the secret of Azem. Besides, he already knew it.

Artemis recovered quickly enough to answer first. "Yes, actually."

"I suppose I might pop in…" Emet-Selch said lightly. "I've yet to see the latest developments in that field."

"May I join you and your friends, then?" Elidibus had his hands behind him, looking all the more like his actual age. "I've been curious about Kronos' lectures but I haven't had the opportunity to attend yet."

The two older Convocation members (well, one and one imposter member) gave each other a look. As one they shrugged. "Why not?" They answered simultaneously.

------

"So now that I've had to waste half my lecture on going over the basics, shall we proceed to the heart of why I'm standing here?" The body language and voice of Kronos didn't even try to disguise how utterly displeased he was with how things were proceeding. From the way that Hythlodaeus was sunk into his chair and covering his mask with his hands this was an expected, if undesired, result. Artemis could see why he needed the company. Being alone and dying of secondhand embarrassment in front of a hall full of promising students was far lessened when there were more people he knew that could share in it.

At least Elidibus still seemed interested in the topic, seated as he was to her right. Hythlodaeus was in the seat to her left, a veritable puddle of forlorn mumbling. Apollo patted their friend on the head from his spot on the Chief's other side. Emet-Selch had taken the seat to the Emissary's right, more than glad to not need to directly hear the quiet pleading for the torture to end. That was his excuse, anyway. Artemis suspected that he wanted to be certain that the young man wouldn't be bothered by any other attendee during the lecture.

Hades could be soft hearted like that, when he thought no one was paying attention.

Back onstage, Kronos received the answers (or lack thereof) that he must have been searching for, because he quickly snapped his fingers. A display consisting of a large line, followed by several generic people shapes and a timepiece appeared above him. He didn't bother looking before he spoke. “Now, seeing as most beings experience time in a linear fashion, and we’re now all aware of how it moves forward and splits,” A wave of his hand took the singular line and split one end into multiple ones. The people shapes floated until one sat at the end of each line and changed color according to which line they went to. One shape, white in color, stayed on the still-connected part of the line. “The obvious next question becomes: Is it possible to move backwards through time to change an outcome? I say yes.”

Artemis blinked, then leaned forward to see how he came to this conclusion. From the corner of her eye, she could see Apollo stopping his comforting gestures to curiously look towards the stage. Hythlodaeus had even perked up enough to be sitting properly in his chair.

“After all, time is a progression. One step begets another begets another. What many forget is that negative progression can also occur.” Kronos gestured to the audience. “Have any of you had to be diverted from the path you were taking because of construction? Don’t bother answering, of course you have. What happens when you must trace back your steps is negative progression. Your goal is just as far as it was when you had gotten started. The energy you had saved up to go forward is spent doubling back.” He gestured at the diagram. “Similarly, if you can figure out the energy it costs to move forward in time, all one needs is double that to go backwards. Multiply exponentially by the amount of time you need to travel and you will find yourself when you need to be.” Their seats were close enough that Artemis could see the proud smirk on his face. “Simple, really.”

“But can you actually change anything?” A voice called out from the audience. “All you’re proposing is the means to move backwards! Wouldn’t the changes you make affect your reasoning for going into the past in the first place?” Kronos glared in the direction it came from.

“I’m getting to that.” He snapped. Quite literally, as he snapped his fingers and the figures moved around again. The red colored one moved slowly from its split in the timeline back to where the white colored one was stationed. The timepiece turned backwards to reflect this. “Now as the fool suggested there lies the possibility that, should you obtain enough energy to move backwards in time, you can cause the future you were trying to prevent in the first place. Thus, your self in this future must needs travel to when you arrived and cause the events that lead to you traveling, ad infinitum. This is what’s known as a Closed Time Loop, and many have theorized that it is the only possible outcome for attempting to change the past.” The red figure, having made its way to the combined timeline, moved in the direction of its split, only to move backwards again. Again, the timepiece moved backwards or forwards depending on how the red figure was moving.

“There is some…” Kronos paused, then said the word as if it were a curse. “Merit...to that theory. There are certain events that one cannot rightly prevent on one’s own. The rise of a virulent disease, for example, could be warned about. However, the disease could still spread before any preventative measures can be taken and cause the damage you had gone to the past to prevent. Similarly, natural disasters are just as difficult to prevent from actually happening. How then, can one effectively change the future?”

Artemis looked to her right in time to see Elidibus on the edge of his seat. Even Emet-Selch seemed like he was actually paying attention and not just half sleeping through the lecture.

“Again, the solution is simple.” Kronos picked up the white figure from the timeline. “You must remove the person who will cause the most damage to the future you are trying to prevent.” A loud murmur went out through the hall that he ignored. “With that person away, the progression of events must change the outcome of the future. Thus your mission will be complete.”

“What do you mean by remove?” A student from two rows up called out.

The man rolled his head (and presumably his eyes) hard enough that Artemis was sure his mask was going to dislodge itself from his face. Not that it would have taken much, considering how it was perched on his large, sharp nose. “Not anything as base as killing the person. I mean actually remove the person from the situation entirely. Isolate them in a place where the event won’t be able to touch them while everyone more competent takes care of prevention and recovery.”

“But how--”

The timepiece onstage made a blaring sound, shutting up the student. Kronos looked pleased. “That’s all the time I have to explain these very simple concepts to all of you. I’m obliged to tell you that if you wish to learn more, my papers on the equations behind moving backwards in time and how one would be able to isolate the person who would cause the most damage in the future one is trying to prevent are readily available. I won’t be taking any questions.” With that, he quickly made his exit.

Artemis didn’t look at Hythlodaeus, instead turning her focus onto Elidibus. “So...what did you think?”

The young man was practically buzzing with energy. “His grasp of Time and the mechanics of how it works are astounding. I would like to attend more of Kronos’ lectures.”

She looked past him towards Emet-Selch. He looked like he just ate something sour. “So you didn’t think he was...rough?”

Elidibus nodded. “Oh he was certainly terse. An uncommon trait, of course, but refreshing to see one teach with such a method.” He looked up with an easy smile. “Although I will say I’m far more pleased to have been invited to see Kronos with two of my brothers than I am in seeing the man himself. Thank you for allowing me to join you both.”

The impact her heart made inside her chest was utterly unnecessary. Even if she’d wanted to, Artemis couldn’t have stopped the warm and gooey smile from spreading on her face. “Thank you for joining us.”

A throat clearing noise drew her attention back to Emet-Selch. The red of his mask made it harder to tell, but he definitely had the remains of a flush on his cheeks. She was going to tease him about it later. “I second the thanks. If you wish to try out other lectures, be sure to talk to us.”

The emissary nodded fast enough that his hood threatened to fall off. “For certain.” He then peaked around Artemis towards Hythlodaeus and Apollo. “I would also like you both to join us the next time, if neither of you mind. Perhaps the next lecture won’t be quite so humiliating for the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect.”

She turned her head in time to see Hythlodaeus, having gotten his second wind from Kronos finishing his lecture, melt back into his seat with a prolonged groan. “If I’m still in one piece after all of the complaints I’ll have to field, just say the word and I’ll be there.” His words were muffled between his hands, but they were clear enough to hear even among the exiting crowd.

“And I’m always fine with going where Azem goes.” Apollo smiled back at Elidibus with a slight flick of his hair extensions to remind those in the know that he was pretending to be Artemis.

“Then it’s settled.” The young man stood up with a slight bounce. “At a future date, the five of us shall see another lecture.”

“Perhaps we could attend something by Astraeaus?” Emet-Selch suggested. “Gossip says that some of his work had gotten stolen, and I’m keen to see if there’s any truth to it.”

“What does he create?”

That started a discussion that lasted until the group had left the Akademia grounds altogether.

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hollyxqx · 5 years ago

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best kept secret // kihyun // oneshot

↪ PAIRING: Reader/Yoo Kihyun ↪ SUMMARY: You've been in a secret relationship with your brother's best friend and bandmate for a year now, becoming a pro at hiding it from the world. It's going well and you're happy...until you find out you're pregnant. ↪ WORD COUNT: 5k ↪ WARNINGS: mentions of abortion | sex | angst

"How are you feeling now?" Your boyfriend asked you, his voice soft and caring. He gently brushed some hair that had stuck to your damp forehead out of your face and kissed the top of your head. You had barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up your breakfast, cursing the seafood you'd eaten the night before. Kihyun had laid with you on your bed while you recuperated, the nausea slowly washing away.

"Slightly better," You sighed. "Really wish I hadn't eaten that crab though."

Kihyun just smiled and held you tighter in his arms. Although he was your boyfriend, moments like this were rare, where you could just be like any other normal couple. Today you were taking advantage of the fact that no one was home and you two would have a whole 24 hours to yourselves. Your very protective older brother with whom you shared an apartment with had gone away for work, leaving you free to be with Kihyun. "Let me know if there's anything I can do." He murmured.

"I love you," You said, closing your eyes and nestling into his neck.

"I love you more." He replied, like he always did whenever you said that to him. Just as you were enjoying this nice moment, your phone rang, the familiar jingle ruining the atmosphere. You whined in frustration as you rolled over to pick the device up.

"It's Jooheon." Your brother. Kihyun stiffened next to you. Although it was impossible it almost felt like Jooheon could see you two in this moment and he felt guilty for even touching you. "Hey bro." You answered, taking the call. You sat up on the bed, moving away from Kihyun.

"Y/N!" Your brothers voice came down the line. "You good?"

"I'm all good. Just hanging out by myself, enjoying the quiet now that you're gone." You lied. This had become so normal, so natural to you now. Your relationship had been a secret for so long now that the lies rolled off your tongue easily. It had been your idea not to tell anyone that you were dating your brothers best friend because you know he wouldn't approve. Kihyun had a reputation for being a bit of a fuck boy. You know now that's not true, of course, but you also know your brother would kill him for even looking at his sister.

"I'm glad." Jooheon replied sarcastically. You could practically hear the eyeroll he would no doubt be giving you. "I was wondering if you would pick me up from the airport tomorrow?"

"Of course." You replied automatically. "Is that all you wanted?"

"That and to tell you Kihyun and Shownu are coming over tomorrow, if that's ok?"

"Kihyun and Shownu are coming over?" You repeated. Kihyun looked up at you at the mention of his name, eyebrow raised. "That's fine, I'll make myself scarce." Kihyun smirked, knowing that he'd be sneaking into your room a lot tomorrow.

"Thanks, I gotta run now though. I'll see you tomorrow." Jooheon said. You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, feeling a little guilty. You hated lying to him but it was for the best.

"It scares me how good I am at lying to him." You sighed to Kihyun, settling back into the position you were in before the phonecall.

"I know what you mean, I hate it." Kihyun agreed.

"Do you think he'd ever be ok with the idea of us?" You asked, a tinge of sadness to your voice. You'd spoken with Kihyuhn so many times about just biting the bullet and telling Jooheon, everyone, about you. You were in love and happy together. What could be so wrong with that?

"Are you kidding me?" Kihyun scoffed. "Remember the time I accidentally called you beautiful in front of him and he slapped me?"

You laughed as you remembered that incident. You were at a family wedding that Kihyun had been invited to as well. You'd made an effort for the occasion, dressing up in a beautiful gown in a colour you knew Kihyun liked on you and he couldn't help himself when he saw you. Unable not to call his girlfriend beautiful, it earned him a not so playful slap on the cheek from your brother. Imagine what he would have done if he knew that Kihyun had fucked you in the bathroom later that night. You dreaded to think.

"I wish he wasn't so over protective sometimes." You replied, laughter dying away.

Kihyun shrugged. "He cares about you, it's understandable." He rolled on to his back and pulled you on top of him, kissing you as he moved. "Are you feeling better yet, because we haven't had sex in a week and I'm dying here. Even just cuddling you is getting me going."

"Kihyun!" You exclaimed and he grinned at you. Your boyfriend's sex drive never failed to amaze you. He rolled his hips up, pressing his erection into you, driving his point home.

"I missed you," He mumbled, pulling you in for another kiss. These stolen moments with him were your favourite and you wished you could pause time just to relish in it a little longer. At the back of your mind you knew this couldn't continue forever, this secrecy and lying. It was already starting to wear on you. You just didn't want to ask yourself the one question you would eventually have to. How long could this go on for?

♥

You threw up again the next day, feeling slightly embarrassed that it occurred when Shownu and Kihyun were over. You exited the bathroom and walked to the kitchen to get some water. The boys were hanging out in the living room and you walked quickly, hoping to go unnoticed. It didn't work.

"Y/N?" Jooheon called out to you. You stopped and looked at him, giving him what you hoped was a convincing smile. "Were you just sick in the bathroom?" He asked. Your eyes flicked over to Kihyun and you could see concern in his eyes and he frowned a little.

"Uh, yeah, I think I've got food poisioning." You stuttered. They'd heard you.

"Are you alright?" Jooheon asked, looking a little worried but you brushed him off with a wave of your hand.

"Yeah! Of course, I'm totally fine. It just needs to work its way out of my system." You replied.

"Good," Jooheon said, letting out a puff of air. "Thought you were going to say you were pregnant." He laughed and you froze. The idea had never even occurred to you. You'd been on birth control that stopped you getting a period so you didn't even think pregnancy was a possibility. You racked your brain, feeling slightly panicky, trying to work out whether you had any pregnancy-like symptoms. The vomiting was definitely one, but other than that nothing at all. "Y/N, you're scaring me." Jooheon's voice cut through your thoughts, bringing your attention back to reality. "You're not pregnant right?!"

"No!" You forced out a laugh, hoping it sounded light and natural. "There's not a chance in hell I am!"

"I'm not ready to be an uncle," Jooheon laughed. You muttered something about going to get water and left the boys alone, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Kihyun. You knew the second he saw your eyes he'd see the panic in them, he knew you so well how could he not? You didn't want to worry him.

As you sat in the kitchen, sipping your water you made the decision to buy a pregnancy test. Just to be on the safe side and put your mind at ease. Although you were almost certain it would be negative it would be good to know for definite.

The boys were so busy playing some sort of game on the tv that you managed to sneak away easily, heading to the store to buy the test. You bought two just in case, having learned through google that sometimes the first test isn't accurate. You quietly let yourself back into your apartment, hiding the tests under your sweater, hoping not to be caught. However, you were alone. You figured they must have gone out. Infact, you were a little relieved to be able to do this privately.

You walked to the bathroom, tests in hand, reading the instructions. You peed on the sticks, feeling awkward and uncomfortable, but it had to be done. You washed your hands while you waited for the results. You were nervous now. Really nervous.

The time wasn't up but you peeked at the results anyway, gasping loudly when the word pregnant had already appeared. How is this possible? It had only been about thirty seconds. The other test was still inconclusive. You picked up the positive test with shaky hands and stared at the words, wishing them away.

You were absolutely not prepared for this. You felt frozen, almost like you were dreaming. A few minutes more passed and you checked back to the other test, dropping it in shock when it had turned positive too.

It was official. You were pregnant.

♥

It was a week later when you finally got round to seeing your doctor. The doctor confirmed the pregnancy with a blood test, somehow making it seem even more real. She even did an ultrasound to tell you how far along you were and when the words 10 weeks fell from her lips you felt faint.

10 weeks. That was a long time. Nearly 3 months.

The first thing you did when you got home was immediately go to your room and open up google, typing in ten weeks pregnant in the search bar. You discovered that a baby was roughly the size of a prune at this stage. Your hand immediately went to your stomach, as if you could feel what was inside there. All this time something was growing in there and you had no idea. Someone was growing in there. The thought made you feel strange.

You hadn't said a word about any of this to Kihyun. Mostly you were scared. You didn't know how he would react. Would he be happy? Would he be angry? Would he want you to have an abortion? It made your stomach knot with anxiety. Kihyun was an idol for god sake. He wasn't even allowed to have a girlfriend let alone a child. This could ruin him and that was the last thing you wanted.

A knock on your door made you jump. You hastily closed the browser and shouted "Come in!" Your heart lept when Kihyun stuck his head round the door, a wicked grin on his face. "Kihyun!"

"Jooheon's gone to the store, so I'd say we have about 30 minutes." He smirked, stepping into your room, closing the door behind him. He strode over to where you sat and paused for a second, having noticed your expression. "Are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," You said unconvincingly. Kihyun eye'd you suspiciously.

"You don't look fine." He frowned. "I thought you'd be happy to see me, I haven't seen you in over a week." He pulled you up to your feet, bringing you in to his arms. He pressed his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes. "Is my baby girl not happy to see me anymore?" He said with a slight smile, knowing it wasn't true. He kissed your lips slowly, teasingly, knowing it would make you melt. You reached for him when you felt him pull away and he smiled into this kiss, his trick worked.

"I'm always happy to see you." You mumbled against his lips. He deepened the kiss, squeezing your body tighter against his. His tongue was in your mouth now, the sensation making you forget everything other than kissing him. He was always such a good kisser.

His hands went straight to your jeans and undid them. "We have to be quick." He said in between kisses. He pushed the denim along with your underwear down your legs. "Jooheon will be back soon."

You were in a daze. His hands on your body and mouth on your neck were making your mind foggy. He sucked two fingers in to his mouth, coating them in saliva before sliding a hand between your legs. "Kihyun," You groaned when he rubbed the pads of his fingers over your clit. His hands went back and forth as he sucked and kissed your neck, the pleasure dizzying.

"Sit up here," He said, guiding you to the edge of your desk. He helped perch you on the table and positioned himself between your legs. "Fuck, I've missed you." He said, fingers going right back to touching you. He slipped two digits inside you and pumped them slowly. You moaned. "So tight," He murmured. "I can tell you haven't had my cock in you in over a week." He looked up at you with a smirk.

His words brought you back to the present and you remembered you needed to talk to him. "Wait," You panted breathlessly. "We need to talk - ugh." You moaned out loud when he squeezed one of your nipples in his free hand, right hand still moving in and out of you. "I need to talk to you." You said, but it came out as more of whine as pleasure spread throughout your body.

Kihyun was just grinning at you, enjoying watching you squirm at his touch. "I wanna play with you more but we don't have much time." He undid his jeans and pulled his cock out of his boxers. He stroked it up and down before gripping the base and pushing the blunt end against your entrance. He closed his eyes in pleasure as he pushed into you. "Shit," He breathed. He hooked his arms underneath your legs and brought them up so he could get deeper in to you. Slowly he started to move. "Oh baby girl. Fuck, you feel amazing."

"Ki," You whined as he stretched you out. He felt amazing, as usual, knowing exactly how to fuck you to have you panting and crying beneath him. Before long you reaching your orgasm, legs trembling as the waves ricocheted through you. "Fuck me harder Ki, I want you to cum for me." You whispered, knowing he was close too.

"How badly do you want my cum?" He asked between pants. He was barely handing on as well, having not fucked you in a while. "Huh?" He squeezed your ass so hard that it hurt. "Answer me, little girl."

"Fuck Ki, I want it! I want it badly! Harder!" You cried out, unable to stop yourself. It was a good thing you two were alone in the apartment.

"You asked for it..." He was driving in to you hard and fast. A few thrusts later and he was spilling into you with a groan. "I fucking missed you." He said, out of breath, kissing you on the forehead.

You peeled away from each other and began to clean up. Once you were back to a semi normal state Kihyun wrapped his arms around you and sighed in to your hair. "I love you, Kihyun." You said, closing your eyes and relaxing in his arms.

"I love you more." You smiled at his words. "What did you want to talk about?" He mumbled in to your hair.

Fear hit you instantly. You'd got so carried away because you missed him you had forgotten you had asked to talk. You pulled yourself out of his embrace. "I need to tell you something." You were just going to do it. It was the only way. Like ripping off a plaster. Quick and hopefully painless.

"Uh oh," Kihyun joked with a little smile. "This sounds serious."

"It is." You said.

His expression changed at the tone of your voice, realising you weren't joking around. "What do you need to tell me?"

"I went to the doctor today..." You trailed off, searching for the right words. You'd never had to tell anyone something like this before. Kihyun's brow furrowed at your words, wondering where this was going. You took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

He was frozen for a moment but it felt like hours for you. "Are you serious?" He said quietly. You nodded, not wanting to speak until you could truly gauge his reaction. "How is that possible? You - we - we're careful?!"

"No birth control is 100% effective." You sighed.

"I can't believe this." He let out a deep breath, hands going to his hair. "That's why you were sick last week?" He asked and once again you just nodded. "Jesus christ." He slumped down and sat on the edge of your bed. "How far along?"

"10 weeks." You walked over and sat next to him.

"Fucking hell." He said. You reached to grab his hand but he pushed you away making your heart sink. He was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. "I can't have a baby, Y/N."

"What are you saying?" You asked, your voice small and insignificant.

"I'm saying, I can't have a baby." He finally looked at you. "You know what that means right?"

He wanted you to get an abortion. "N-no! I can't do that!" You spluttered.

"So you'd rather ruin my life, my career instead?" He scoffed. You felt a wave of anger wash over you. He was being selfish, a streak you knew he had in him but rarely saw.

"What about my life? My career?" You retorted. "I'm the one who has to actually have the baby!"

"Exactly! Think about that! Nobody knows we are even together, how can we have a fucking baby? Be logical here!" He was getting louder now and you prayed Jooheon hadn't returned from the store yet.

"I'm not getting an abortion." You said simply. Kihyun sighed shaking his head. "I can't, Ki. I really can't do that." You felt hot tears hit your cheeks, you hadn't even realised you were crying.

"I can't be involved then, Y/N." He said quietly. "I'm an idol. This won't just ruin me it will ruin the band. I can't do that to them. This is not something that can be kept a secret. Some hospital worker will see my name on the birth certificate and it's over."

"Then go, don't waste a second longer on me." You were crying louder now, sobs choking in your throat. Kihyun looked wounded at your words but he didn't move an inch. "Get out!" You screamed. He hesitated. He didn't want to break up and he knew that's what leaving meant. "I'm serious, I don't want to even look at you right now."

"Please think about what I said." He said quietly before he did what you asked and left you crying, alone in your room.

♥

It was easy to avoid Kihyun after that. He had tried to speak to you a few times but you ignored the calls and texts. It physically hurt your heart to do so but you knew he didn't you or your baby. That thought kept your will strong. You still cried about it, the pregnancy making your emotions even more intense, but the thought of meeting your baby kept you going.

Jooheon had hit the roof when you told him you were pregnant. Of course you didn't disclose who the father was, claiming it was a boy he didn't know that you had been dating. He was even angrier when you told him this made up boy wanted nothing to do with the baby. Eventually you calmed Jooheon down and he came around to the idea, realising there was nothing he could do to change the situation.

You were now 5 months pregnant. Of course you were showing quite visibly but you were able to hid it well enough so that strangers couldn't tell. Not that you minded if they could, you just were still adjusting to your growing body.

Monsta X had left for a 2 and a half month tour not long after the day you and Kihyun broke up. Of course you kept Jooheon updated about the baby, showing him scan pictures and texting him when you reached milestones, like the baby kicking. He was excited and couldn't wait to see you in the flesh.

Today was the day you were dreading. You were picking Jooheon up from the airport and that meant seeing Kihyun for the first time since you split up.

"Y/N!" You turned your head at the sound, seeing Jooheon practically running towards you from the arrivals gate. He reached you and pulled you in for tight hug. "Look at you!" He exclaimed, his hand instantly going to touch your belly. You were wearing a tight summer dress because it was hot and it emphasized your bump. "You're so big!"

"Are you calling me fat?" You teased, poking him in the chest.

"Yes." Jooheon laughed and you smacked him playfully. "I missed you kiddo." He grabbed your hand and started tugging you somehwere. "Come on, let's go see the guys, they're going to die when they see you."

You didn't have a choice. You couldn't tell him why you didn't want to see them so you somehow forced your feet to move and you followed your brother through the airport. The first person you saw was Shownu and his eyes widened at your appearence.

"You're so pregnant!" Shownu gasped and you laughed. "Can I touch?" He asked. You nodded. He reached his hands out to your bump and as if on cue, the baby started kicking. "Oh my god! I can feel that!" You smiled at Shownu's reaction.

"Let me feel, let me feel!" Jooheon was already pushing Shownu off you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Kihyun watching but you didn't dare look at him. "This is crazy!" Jooheon was laughing.

"Do you know if it is a boy or a girl?" Shownu asked.

"A girl." You replied, looking down shyly. You'd found out recently and although you would have been happy either way, it was still exciting.

"You're having a girl?" A small voice interrupted and you froze. You knew that voice anywhere. It was Kihyun. You forced yourself to look at him.

"A baby girl, yeah." You nodded. "Are you ready to go?" You asked Jooheon desperate to change the conversation.

"Yep. Let's get going kiddo."

♥

To your discomfort Jooheon had invited all the boys back to your place, which meant more time with Kihyun. As you hadn't seen them in a long time it would have been weird for you to hide away in your room so you sat in living room with them, doing your best to ignore Kihyun. You sat in between Shownu and Jooheon on the couch, talking and just hanging out.

"I can't wait to meet you, baby girl." Shownu was fascinated with your bump and when you told him the baby could hear him he insisted on talking to it, making you laugh. In a way it made you sad because it should have been Kihyun getting to do this things, and you felt like you were missing out on those nice moments.

"Oh my god, leave her alone." Jooheon was rolling his eyes at Shownu.

"It's cute!" You defended, nudging your brother.

"I'm going to be the baby's daddy. I've decided." Shownu joked, smirking at Jooheon.

"You will fucking not." Jooheon warned.

"I'm gonna marry Y/N and be her baby daddy." Shownu further provoked, enjoying getting a rise out of his friend.

"Can I call you daddy too?" You asked Shownu, knowing it would really annoy Jooheon.

"Of course." He grinned, giving you a wink.

"Alright!" Jooheon yelled and you and Shownu cracked up. "I'm going to throw up! Enough!"

You tried to get up off the couch but it was difficult. "Here let me help you." Shownu was quick to get to his feet, letting you take his hands and hoist you up.

"Thanks," You smiled up at him. "I'm just going to pee. The baby's been kicking my bladder for the last half hour." He laughed and let you go. You waddled down the hall and to the bathroom. As you were washing your hands the door opened and you looked up in surprise, locking eyes with Kihyun in the mirror. "W-what are you doing?" You gasped.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He shot back. His angry tone confused you. He hadn't even said a word to you all night.

"Excuse me?!" You raised your eyebrows at his attitude.

"You're just going to flirt with Shownu, right in front of me, yeah? While you're pregnant with my baby? Are you some kind of slut or what?" Kihyun whispered angrily, not wanting his voice to carry down the hall.

"What the hell Kihyun! We were just joking!" You said and he rolled his eyes. "Why do you even care? Last time I checked you didn't want me or my child. At least Shownu cares."

"Yeah clearly, his hands have been all over you the minute he saw you." He scoffed.

You didn't want to deal with this. You tried to move past him but he blocked your way. "Move, Kihyun." You warned.

"You think it's easy for me to see you like this?" He asked. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "I'm fucking serious! It fucking hurts!"

"You only have yourself to blame." You replied coldly.

"Y/N," He stepped closer to you. "I'm so sorry about how it all went down." You hadn't expected him to say that. "I'm sorry. You have no idea. I've barely been able to sleep these days. It's all I think about."

You felt a pang of guilt. It's not like you magically fell out of love with him. Positive thing or not you still cared. Now that you were looking at him properly you noticed he looked thinner than usual. "What do you want me to say to that? No worries, it's all forgiven, goodbye?"

"I don't expect your forgiveness. I don't deserve it." He took another step closer to you. "I want you to know I love you though." Your stomach lurched. He stepped forward again, now you were close enough to be touching. "Can I feel?" He asked, referring to your bump.

You gulped and nodded. It was his child after all, he had the right. As soon as his hands went to your belly the baby flipped over and he gasped, before smiling. "Sorry," You muttered, somehow feeling you needed to apologise.

"Don't be," He breathed. "Wow, that's amazing." It felt amazing to have his hands on you again, even if was just on your stomach. He rubbed his hands over your belly and the baby turned over again. "Hi baby," He said very quietly to your bump. You wanted to cry, this is the way it should've been.

"I missed you, Ki." You said, tears welling in your eyes. You cursed your hormones. He looked up at you and as soon as he saw you crying his hands cupped your face, wiping away the tears.

"Sh, hey. Don't cry. I missed you too."

Before you could even register what was going on, Kihyun leaned forward and was kissing you. The sensation of having his mouth back on yours was wonderful. It felt so natural, so right, like that's where you belonged. You couldn't help yourself, you were kissing him back desperately.

"What the fuck!"

You pushed Kihyun off of you and practically jumped away from him. Behind him Jooheon stood in the doorway, a look of utter shock on his face.

"Listen, Jooheon, it's not what - " You started to splutter, panicking.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Jooheon was looking at Kihyun, his voice deadly. "You are the father of that baby."

"Jooheon," Kihyun said slowly. "It's not what you think."

"How could you do that to my sister?!" Jooheon was shouting now. "Get her pregnant then abandon her! What kind of man does that?"

"We are in love!" Kihyun shouted back.

"That's a fucking joke." Jooheon scoffed. "I can't believe you lied to me. I never thought you would do anything like this. That's low."

"Just let me explain - " Kihyun started but Jooheon raised his hand.

"Get out of my house. Now."

Kihyun looked at you and Jooheon. He wanted to deescalate the situation, so with a sigh he left the room.

♥

As bad as you thought Jooheon's anger was towards you, Kihyun definitely got it worse. The band weren't even practising together any more after Jooheon nearly came to blows with Kihyun. On the plus side though Kihyun was being the soon-to-be dad you wanted him to be and doting on you. It felt surreal to be back with him like that.

"Let's get married." He said to you one night, lying next to you in bed. You'd taken to staying at his place as a way of avoiding your brother.

"What?!" You half laughed. "You're an idol, you can't dummy."

"It'll be a secret." He grabbed your hand and kissed the top of it. "I want to be a real family. I want our baby to have my last name."

"Our baby can have your last name anyway. We don't have to be married for that." You pointed out.

"I want you to have it too." He smiled, looking at you softly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Here, I got you something." You watched him curiously as he leaned up on his elbows and reached into the drawer of the nightstand. He pulled out a small black box and tossed it to you. "Open it."

You opened the black box and gasped. Inside was a beautiful diamond ring. "It's gorgeous." You breathed.

"Marry me, Y/N." Kihyun took the box back and removed the ring. He grabbed your hand and looked at you expectantly.

"Ok," You said with a laugh. "Let's get married."

♥ Jooheon eventually came round once you announced that you and Kihyun were engaged. He saw how sorry Kihyun was and how serious the relationship was, realising that maybe you were in love, that it was the real thing. He even apologised for acting so angrily to Kihyun.

"Uncle Jooheon, someone wants to meet you." You called as you walked in to the apartment. You'd given birth to a healthy baby girl and were excited for her to meet all your friends and family. Kihyun was carrying her allowing you to unlock the door.

"Oh my god," Jooheon cooed when his eyes fell on the sleeping baby. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course." You replied. Kihyun bundled the baby in his arms and passed her over to Jooheon who was smiling ear to ear.

"She's gorgeous, Y/N." He said to you, gazing at her. "She looks just like you."

"I think she looks like Ki." You said with a smile.

"No way, she's beautiful, it's all her mom." Kihyun said, making you blush.

"I agree with Kihyun." Jooheon said with a laugh, rocking the baby. "I'm so happy for you guys."

"That means a lot, Jooheon." Kihyun said, placing a friendly hand on the younger man's shoulder. You were just happy to see them friends again. "Really."

"Just don't lie to me again you guys, or I won't baby sit." Jooheon said, smirking at you.

"Promise." You answered.

Looking at the happy scene before you made your heart swell. It was hard to believe that a few months ago you felt scared and anxious about your future as a single mother. Now you were going to be a wife. You couldn't believe it. When you first met Kihyun you never thought you'd start dating, let alone have a family together. As Jooheon and Kihyun fussed over the baby you felt happy tears burn your eyes. The future was bright and you ready for it.

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